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#there's this fic out in the wild that's really really well written
hinderr · 9 months
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guh
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optiwashere · 5 months
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I completely forgot about the best part of a new year, at least from a "neurotic about genuinely pointless shit" perspective. It's this little sweetness on AO3.
This is also where I'm a massive hypocrite and admit that I look at things that don't matter. I'm here as a lesson. Don't do what I do, fellow writers.
These pages on AO3 are the Great Evil. Save yourself and ignore them. I highly recommend making a site skin to block yourself from seeing any statistics!
I hate seeing this screen. Expectation and comparison lurk here:
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I love seeing this screen and its relative emptiness. It's comforting:
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I hope to stop looking at either in 2024.
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theflyingfeeling · 1 year
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Watched the new video and all I could think about was how Niko, Joonas and Tommi shared a bed there, just like Olli and Aleksi who could’ve shared with Joel but apparently they made him sleep on the sofa instead 👀
hhhmmmmhhmhmhmmhmmhmmmmm 👀👀👀👀
also: the nerds nerding while the rest of the band is just goofing around 🥺🤲
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savrenim · 2 years
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gods nov 5th is the gift that keeps giving
#I recently have been dragged into I guess sort of the boku no hero academia fandom in the funniest of ways#which is to say I read a crossover fic went 'huh that's good' and decided to read more fic while also deciding to never watch the show#which I've only done for one fandom before and tbh it might legit be a more fun fanfiction reading experience than the normal one#it is WILD trying to reverse-engineer what is simply well-accepted fan theory and what is actual canon#I've definitely gotten a few guesses wrong but the osmosis process is really fun#(esp bc if you want to be a good detective you have to check dates; even people writing very carefully close to canon#might have written a fic before canon came out)#BUT ANYWAYS I guess I read BNHA fic now it's actually pretty good#probably bc there are multiple characters that fit my standard..... not even 'blorbo' preferences#my 'you have a backstory and/or situation that means fanfic written about you is most likely going to hit the spot' preferences#1 defs being Eraserhead bc let's be real 'I am a very tired gruff teacher working two jobs at once who does not get any sleep and has#against my own will adopted all of you why is this happening to me I'm so tired' is The Most Relatable#Hawks bc Crafted Into A Weapon From Childhood is The Weapons Feels^TM#and then Dabi bc that was the crossover that I read that was fun ok it was a silly jjk crossover of 'what if Gojo is reincarnated as Dabi'#that just transferred all my 'HELLO FAVORITE CHARACTER' emotions onto Dabi who then I go and look up and has also the sort of backstory#that makes him fave character material#SO here I am sitting here just generally happy with all of this watching my annual Nov 5th meme compilation#and LO AND BEHOLD there is strong arm 'trending during the us election: destiel/ BNHA' meme#and I'm going 'what the fuuuuuuuck my new favorite fandom aLSO TRENDED IN THE NOV 5TH CHAOS????'#so obviously I had to look up why#WELL THE WHY WAS DABI BACKSTORY REVEAL#anyways my housemate had to check on me as to why I was screaming and it turns out that indeed nov 5th#is the gift that keeps on giving#if you have read this far down in my tags I feel like you now know uncomfortably personal things about me#esp if you know enough about BNHA to understand all of that#so if you have any fic recs About My Favs I'm taking them I esp enjoy canon retellings bc it's REALLY fun to try to figure out#which bits of those are actually canon
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bookshelf-dust · 1 year
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healing
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billy hargrove x gn!reader
word count: 5,445
warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??
a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333
————
November 1985
“No.”
“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?” 
Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make. 
“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes. 
She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”
The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”
Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table. 
“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”
Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around. 
“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.” 
Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment. 
It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down. 
You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro. 
Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money. 
But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.
There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way. 
Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are. 
You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?” 
He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy. 
When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”
He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up. 
“Hey. Glad your test is over?”
That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”
You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch. 
“You have work today?”
Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment. 
Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge. 
“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.” 
You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”
The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her. 
“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say. 
The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is. 
“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice. 
“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.
“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation. 
Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek. 
Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it. 
“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”
“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”
Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together. 
Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale. 
He smiles at her, and El considers that a win. 
You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door. 
He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do. 
When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do. 
Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger. 
He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side. 
“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him. 
He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him. 
“Besides what?” 
You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself. 
Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless. 
“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again. 
“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it. 
“You know what.”
“I want you to go.”
“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”
————
The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there. 
Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims. 
She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom. 
Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…” 
You and Billy. 
You and Billy Hargrove.
Sharing a room. 
Sharing a bed. 
Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall. 
“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything. 
“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”
That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”
You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?
Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?
“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”
He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”
He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them. 
“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”
You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh. 
“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”
You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that. 
“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you. 
You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”
Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether. 
“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”
You nod your head, and try to move back from him. 
Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”
You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”
Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win. 
“Really?”
He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back. 
“Yeah, baby.”
Baby. 
It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”. 
And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.
“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”
“Mhm. Thought so.” 
This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.
“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.
When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips. 
You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind. 
You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them. 
Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one. 
“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.” 
“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.
————
Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out. 
“Right hand blue.”
“You’re kidding right?”
“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”
Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card. 
“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”
“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger. 
He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can. 
Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask. 
He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.” 
“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”
“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass. 
“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”
You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder. 
“Something funny over there?” Steve questions. 
You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”
His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”
Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either. 
The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing. 
It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way. 
————
You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you. 
You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in. 
He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you. 
When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own. 
You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this. 
He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.
“C’mere then.”
You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”
“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”
“Billy.”
“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side. 
Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined. 
He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?” 
“Yeah.” 
Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?” 
“Yes.” 
He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.
Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before. 
He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him. 
“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.” 
You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck. 
“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break. 
“You’re sure?”
“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”
He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous. 
It’s just me. 
“Do they hurt at all?”
Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean. 
“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”
You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed. 
He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them. 
“Goodnight, Billy.”
He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop. 
“Goodnight, baby.”
————
When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.
Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look. 
You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in. 
Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on. 
Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction. 
You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble. 
“Sleep okay?” she asks. 
“Mhm. You?”
“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.” 
You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up. 
“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”
You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”
“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”
You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”
“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet. 
“Oh my god.”
“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”
“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”
“Or lack thereof,” Robin says. 
“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.” 
Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.” 
He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being. 
“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”
————
Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water. 
It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down. 
It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool. 
You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water. 
“Whatcha doin’?” 
Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you. 
“That sounds nice.”
“Mhm.”
“I can go back inside, if you want.”
Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does. 
“Okay.” 
He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do. 
“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”
“I understand, Billy.” 
You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see. 
“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say. 
“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”
He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water. 
Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with. 
When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest. 
He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child. 
“You motherfucker!” 
You get him back, and he’s laughing. 
Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.
You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder. 
“Billy!”
“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water. 
You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating. 
When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so. 
“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it. 
“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”
You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it. 
He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them. 
He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.
Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.
It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks. 
When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.
Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.
“I’m in love with you, you know.”
“I know,” you respond.
He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat. 
“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”
“Damn right you are.”
You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you. 
“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy. 
“So much for that,” Billy says.
But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
————
“I’m regretting this, Billy.”
“Stop whining.”
Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this. 
“Get off.”
“No.”
“Get off, please.”
“Make me.” 
There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.
He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”
And you’d do it again. 
“Didn’t work, did it?”
“No. Shut up and take it.”
By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.
You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content. 
He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up. 
He’s never had this before.
Hell, you’ve never had this before. 
And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro. 
You’re healing him. You. 
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
4K notes · View notes
minkiverse · 20 days
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KIM HONGJOONG FIC RECS
Poly!Ateez Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Park Seonghwa - Jeong Yunho - Kang Yeosang - Choi San - Song Mingi - Jung Wooyoung - Choi Jongho
Next up we have the Captain himself!~ I feel like Joong is always written so interestingly because for one, he is part of the demon line but he is also a silly lil goof my shorty in blue 😩😩 Just so you know, I have not read many series for individual Ateez members (feel free to recommend any!!!), so most of these will be one-shots or drabbles. As always, I hope you enjoy and support these authors!!
DISCLAIMER none of these works are mine and majority are MATURE 18+, please review all warnings before reading!!!
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Key:
✨ - My Favs
🔥 - Smut (MINORS DNI)
⛈️ - Angst
💗 - Fluff
🍑 - Humor
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SERIES
Wanbelyn - @songmingisthighs ⛈️💗🍑 SMAU ✧ Dad!Hongjoong ✧ Doctor AU
expect to see this author on almost all the masterlists because their SMAU 🤌🤌🤌 like you couldn't pry my phone out of my hands when i'm reading these fics 😭😭 this one is the first i got to follow along with as they updated so i am emotionally attached to wanbelyn!joong, the mc, and kijoong MY BABY 😭😭
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ONE-SHOTS/DRABBLES/ETC
This World - @hongism 🔥⛈️💗Outlaw AU ✧ Ateez Lore
The Captain's Favorite - @edenesth ⛈️💗 Pirate AU
Untitled - @sanspuppet 🔥
Ruin Me - @sxcret-garden 🔥
Untitled - @yourfatherlucifer 🔥
marigold - @yoongiseesawmp3 🔥💗 College AU
Invisible Man Hongjoong - @justaaveragereader 🔥 Slasher AU
Morning Haze - @nateezfics 🔥
wetting your lips - @k-hotchoisan 🔥 Sugar Daddy AU
the shoe on the other foot - @bro-atz 🔥 Idol AU
tone - @puddingyun 🔥Idol AU
he's kinda hot - @ohmyamor 🔥⛈️💗 Demon AU
yours, mine, & everything in between - @sungbeam 💗
friends to lovers to strangers - @bro-atz 🔥⛈️ Composer AU
Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 College AU
on me - @hongism ✨🔥
listen ok 😭😭 sub!joong is such a rare treat that i kinda lose it when i see it but this fic is just so well written and its sensual and intimate and how joong is written is just 😩😩😩
Pretty Pink - @nateezfics ✨🔥
the teasing 😮‍💨😮‍💨 the edging 🤤🤤 the overstim 😩😩😩 this is just really well written smut its so fucking hot you just need to read it!!!👏👏
a wild ride - @bombuni 🔥 College AU
13:00 - @kwanisms 🔥Idol AU
bla bla bla - @yoongiseesawmp3 🔥⛈️ Idol AU
Stupid Games, Stupid Prizes - @last-words-ofashootingstar 🔥⛈️ Rockstar AU
I'm The One - @sorryimananti-romantic ⛈️💗 Royalty AU
you're my desire - @hongism 🔥
bonnie & clyde - @byuntrash101 🔥 Gang AU
duck curtains - @ichorai 💗 Roommate AU
Coachella Rut - @meltingmidas 🔥 Idol AU
Wings and Thorns - @k-hotchoisan 🔥Angels & Demons AU
deal - @hongism 🔥 Roommate AU
while you were sleeping - @seonghwaddict 💗 Producer AU
Mist - @hongthoven 🔥⛈️
boyfriend!texts - @lololololchips 🍑 Idol AU
Business Call - @nateezfics 🔥 CEO AU
Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Hybrid AU
féconder - @yeosgoa ✨🔥 Witch AU
listen okay there is few things hotter than sex potion/sex pollen/anything that makes them so fucking horny they can't think ok ok and this is just desperate joong fucking mc into oblivion its incredible 😵‍💫😵‍💫
Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Hybrid AU
373 notes · View notes
twogyuu · 7 months
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not really magic
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Pairing: Vernon x fem!reader
Synopsis: In which Jeonghan runs out of babysitter options, so he drops Nina off with Vernon and his girlfriend. Little do either of them know, just maybe the little girl is more capable of making them confront the questions of their future than most adults.
Genre: Fluff, mild angst, good helping of crack, established relationship, featuring ex!JJK
Warnings: Profanity, McDonald's PlayPlace
WC: ~6.3k
A/N: It's Nina from Wonwoo's Tasty Milk (and Cereal) causing chaos again! This has been in the works for a hot minute! Unedited and VERY cringe-y, cheesy, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! I'm kind of embarrassed to be publishing it tbh, but it's the most I've written in forever so I'm just publishing it and then running/hiding💀🤡 The thought that two people are mature enough to talk about these mundane things just makes me feel some type of way T^T
This wasn't inspired by any particular song, but kyungsoo's 'somebody' and sundial's 'rollercoaster' are quite fitting for this fic. Happy reading :)
. . . .
It was a well-known fact that Vernon was not very good with children. 
He was not unkind or inconsiderate towards them by any means, but he simply didn’t know how to interact or communicate with them.
And to be frank, though you were a little better than him, it was only by a margin because you had younger siblings at some point (they’re now grown) and kid cousins. It has been a while since you’ve been around children in general – he’d imagine you were rusty to some end. 
Consequently, it took him by surprise when Jeonghan called and you agreed to watch his four-year old daughter on Saturday while Jeonghan and his wife were at yet another wedding of their in-laws.
To be fair, however, Wonwoo and Leah were also attending, so their usual babysitter was already not an option. The backup, Mingyu and his best friend (cough, cough – situationship), were out of town attending a music festival. Seungkwan, the backup to the backup, was hosting someone’s bachelor party. The only other father of the group, Minghao, had his hands full with growing and surprisingly, wild twins. Seungcheol was an expecting parent – his wife could go into labor at any moment. The rest of the crew was only slightly less reliable than Vernon and you. 
He guessed that extra one percent must count for something. 
There was no doubt Jeonghan and his wife were still nervous about leaving Nina with the two of you – and rightfully so. 
Vernon and you were relatively young – in age, spirit, and well, your relationship. At least from what Jeonghan could observe, the two of you were clearly not ready for kids, whether they be your own or Jeonghan’s.
Vernon was terrified and he had a feeling Mr. and Mrs. Yoon were too. 
They perhaps trusted Vernon a little less than they did you because while Vernon was standing and staring down at Nina by the front door of your apartment, Jeonghan’s wife was going through a laminated sheet of instructions and tips with you in regards to caring for Nina in the next six hours. Hands on hips, Jeonghan was standing over his wife’s shoulder, offering supportive nods and stern, unhelpful ‘mhm’s’ to back her up. 
“Hello,” Nina finally squeaked, peering up at Vernon. 
She was definitely Jeonghan’s kid – it was in the eyes: brown, round, and innocent, but with a hint of mischief glaring in the corner of her irises. 
“Hey,” Vernon greeted back casually. 
“Where’s Uncle Wonwoo?” she asked. Her eyes wandered from the tall man and glossed over the unfamiliar apartment. 
“Uh,” Vernon panicked and stalled in his reply. 
Why the heck was she asking about Wonwoo? Vernon can’t remember already knowing his babysitter by name when he was four.  
“Uncle Wonwoo has a giant teddy bear in his house!” she marveled. Her tone was quick to dip into disappointment. “But I don’t see him here.”
Vernon felt his breath grow more shallow. By the power of Boo Seungkwan, he hoped this kid wouldn’t already start crying on him. 
He had to make her feel better. How do people make kids happy?
Games? They like games, right?
“Do you wanna play rock, paper, scissors?” Vernon blurted. 
Nina peered up at him again, face twisting as she processed the situation and her emotions – confused, curious, and amused. 
He would take it. 
Vernon silently held out his fist to the girl, waiting for her to take the bait. 
“What are you guys doing?” your voice floated into the vicinity, breaking the silence and awkwardness. 
Nina and Vernon looked over to find you standing with Jeonghan and his wife on either side of you. Vernon noted how the way his wife was dressed in a light blue and him in a dark suit, was eerily reminiscent of an angel and devil on your shoulders. 
“He asked if I wanted to play block, paper, scissors,” Nina explained quietly. She looked back nervously at Vernon. 
Granted Nina had not been around Vernon and his girlfriend a lot, her uneasy behavior around Vernon did not go unnoticed by Jeonghan. Nina was smart: wary of strangers, but never shy like this. Perhaps shy wasn’t the right word, but there definitely something going on in that little head of hers. As if she was calculating and observing, trying to decipher Vernon. 
You raised a curious eyebrow in the direction of your boyfriend.
“It’s rock, paper, scissors, Nini,” Jeonghan corrected his daughter softly. He skirted around you to come pick her up, a quiet grunt leaving his lips when he heaped her up into his arms. Nina curled into her dad’s chest. 
“We’ll be back in a little while, baby,” Mrs. Yoon walked over to the father-daughter duo. She rubbed the little’s cheeks with the back of her finger to soothe her. 
Nina lifted her head from her dad’s shoulder and whispered a little too loudly. “What if they’re not fun like Uncle Wonwoo?” 
“Nina,” her mom chided. 
“Dang, little girl,” you said under your breath. 
Vernon bit the inside of his cheek, holding back the urge to laugh. You were blunt for better or for worse. 
Jeonghan, her father a little more understanding knowing Vernon for longer, rubbed the little girl’s back. “They’ll be . . . just fine.”
. . . .
Vernon was not sure what Nina did exactly when she went over to Wonwoo’s place, but it must’ve been comparably better than what she was doing here. 
Shortly after Jeonghan left, the little girl dumped out the contents of her bag and began to busy herself with the rather few activities she brought along: a coloring book and a set of markers, a hard-covered picture book with a dog on the cover, a doll, and five pieces of those giant Legos. She burned through each item pretty fast – Vernon figured you could only stack the different colored blocks in various order so many times before you got bored. 
It was fortunate that Nina already had lunch before coming over and her mother had packed a simple snack of apples and peanut butter to bridge her to dinner. However, as the clock ticked closer to 6PM and the little girl was growing bored, you could also tell she was getting hangry. 
Vernon had tasked you with entertaining and playing with Nina. It wasn’t fair, but he figured Nina would like you better than him. He would just observe from afar and take some notes for next time. 
“Can I ask you something, Miss Y/N?” Nina wondered aloud. She brushed her doll’s hair with a small purple plastic brush. 
Sitting criss-crossed across from her, you hummed and nodded. “Sure, squirt – what is it?”
You didn’t think much of it. A four-year-old’s questions can’t be that deep. 
“Are you and Uncle Vernon like my mommy and daddy?” she looked up at you innocently. “And like Uncle Wonwoo and Auntie Leah? Why did mommy tell me to call you ‘miss’ instead of auntie?”
You choked, feeling your cheeks grow warm as you glanced over your shoulder at Vernon. Sure enough, his eyes were lifted from his phone and boring holes through your back – not without the slightest smirk and quirk of an eyebrow. He waited patiently for your answer. The question was honest and innocent – he wasn’t sure what was so funny about it to him or embarrassing to you, but it was. 
“Um, kind of,” you replied slowly. 
“Huh?” she crinkled her nose. 
“Uncle Vernon is, err . . . my boyfriend,” you explained, wondering if she understood the concept of stages in relationships. 
“Boyfriend?” Nina repeated. “Like . . . a friend boy?”
“N-no! No, no!” you exclaimed. Now, you didn’t want to give Jeonghan’s kid the wrong idea about being friends with boys meant a romantic relationship. “N-not . . . really.”
“Then you’re like mommy and daddy?” she said more certainly this time. 
“No,” you sighed, “Your mommy and daddy are married. Wonwoo and Leah are engaged – they’re going to get married. Uncle Vernon and I . . . like each other a lot but we. . . aren’t there yet.”
“Will you get married?” Nina asked innocently. 
“Um,” your voice trailed off, feeling your heart race at her bluntness. That decision wasn’t entirely up to you, but how did you explain that to a four-year-old? Gosh, why did she ask such hard questions in the first place?
The fortunate thing about being four was that your attention span wasn’t very long. 
Nina huffed, setting her doll onto the floor. “Miss Y/N, I’m hungry,” she rubbed her tummy. “Can we eat?”
You let out a small sigh of relief. Classic Yoon: puts you in your doom, but somehow also saves you from it. 
“Sure baby,” you reply, you threw Vernon a quick look over your shoulder. “Let’s see what’s in the fridge.”
“Um wait–” Vernon rose from his chair.
“Yay!” Nina cheered. She stood up excitedly and grabbed your hand. Despite her immense effort, not surprisingly, you don’t move much. “Does Uncle Vernon cook well? Uncle Wonwoo doesn’t, but Auntie Leah does.”
“Y/N, hold on,” Vernon jogged over and grabbed your other hand. 
You paused in your stride and peered at him through your lashes. You waited patiently for him to continue. Nina looked up the same and impatiently swung your linked hands around. 
“Um,” he played with your fingers quietly. His cheeks felt warm as he confessed, “We . . . I-I, um, haven’t gone grocery shopping yet.”
“Oh,” you said softly, putting the pieces together slowly. “So . . . what you’re saying is you don’t have food?”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. 
“Vernon,” you started. There was a scolding tone to it. “I told you to grab a few things before Nina came over.”
“I know, I know! I just got carried away with work and stuff,” he explained. 
You pulled your hand away from him, pressing your lips into a thin line. You can’t believe he didn’t do it! You had reminded him three days in advance and all the days to follow after. Per usual, your mind spun to the future. If he could pull through for this, what did it mean for when the two of you live together?
Just as you opened your mouth to say something, Nina suddenly let out a high-pitch shrill. “Yay!” 
You both startled and looked down at the little girl, confused. 
“Let’s have McDonald’s for dinner,” she stated firmly. 
Nina grinned wide. There was a mischievous glint in her dark brown eyes, one that was all too reminiscent of her father’s. 
She was a Yoon through and through, alright. 
. . . .
A quarter pounder, double cheeseburger, large fries, twenty pieces of McNuggets with one of each of the special sauces, Fanta, topped with a chocolate milk that Nina was sipping on was spread out on the two square tables you pushed together to hold all your food. This looked like it could feed a family of six, yet you were only three people. Originally, the plan was just to get Nina a Happy Meal, you and Vernon with your own individuals, but the little girl insisted on additional McNuggets and fries too – when you were in the bathroom. 
You were quick to learn that Vernon had little to no immunity to the little girl. It was understandable, but you hated playing the “bad cop” and disciplining her. 
“Wanna see a magic trick, Nina?” Vernon asked with his mouth full. 
She grinned at him, excitedly. 
Vernon’s expression mirrored her own and held up a McNugget in front of his palm. “Watch carefully.”
Nina nodded while stuffing a fry into her mouth. 
There was a dramatic pause, his free hand covering then uncovering the McNugget like he was casting some sort of spell on it. You too found yourself curiously watching from the opposite end of the table, your chewing slowing. 
His hand blocking the view of the McNugget, though you could clearly see his face from where you were sitting, he quickly stuffs the piece in his mouth. Vernon smiled brightly, with his mouth closed as he chewed, clapping his hands together as if he just puffed it into Dragon Land instead of his mouth. 
Nonetheless, Nina being a kid and equally fond of your boyfriend, marveled excitedly. 
You scoffed, shaking your head, mumbling a quiet ‘seriously’ under your breath. Vernon must have heard it though – his eyes flickered up at you momentarily while taking Nina’s hand in his own. 
You reached over and adjusted Nina’s tray. “C’mon Nina, finish your apple dippers – we gotta go.”
She turns her attention away from Vernon and back to you. She stared at you with wide-eyes, mildly creepily – you knew this look. It was reminiscent of when Jeonghan knew he just pissed off his wife, but she doesn’t know yet, and he was trying to butter her up before then (it never works though). 
Nina’s chubby little fingers clung tightly onto your forearm, nails digging into your skin as she jumped and whined. 
“Miss Y/N, do we have to go so soon?” she asked cautiously. She craned her neck towards the PlayPlace to one side of you. “Can we stay a bit longer? If I finish my Apple Dippers?”
Now you finally understood why Nina wanted to not only eat from McDonald’s, but also in it. 
“Nina,” you grabbed her wrist in an attempt to calm her down, “There’s a reason why your mommy doesn’t let you go inside the playground.”
“PlayPlace!” she was quick to correct you.
You huffed and repeated after her, “PlayPlace. Nina – we’re not going to disobey your mommy.”
“Why?! Daddy does it all the time,” she protested. 
You heard Vernon snort from the other side of the linoleum table. He was halfway through another Mcnugget, doing his best to suppress the grin forming on his face. 
“Your daddy and I are not the same,” you told her. “Besides,” you wrinkle your nose, “It’s disgusting in there – feet and all.”
“Miss Y/N!” she threw her head back in a howl. 
She gave you her best puppy eyes, but you didn’t budge.
As if a light bulb went off in her mind, she perked up and let go of you. Timidly, Nina circles around and approaches the other side of the table. Hands clasped behind her back, her fingers tangling with the strings that pulled her dress back, she peered up innocently at Vernon and offered him a friendly smile. 
“Uncle Vernon?” she asked. Her tone was completely changed from when she was begging you just seconds earlier. 
“Hm?” he hummed, oblivious as day to the little girl’s advances. 
“Will you play with me?” Nina continued. 
“Uh,” Vernon’s eyes flickered up to you and you simply leaned back in your seat, getting comfortable as you crossed your arms over your chest. 
To be frank, taking care of Nina with Vernon did not feel like it was with Vernon. From home to here, you were the little girl’s main companion on top of making sure she was safe, hydrated, and well-fed. Vernon trailed the two of you like a lost shadow. You were annoyed at his lack of contribution, to say the least. It’s not that you didn’t like Nina and you were trying to be understanding of Vernon, but taking care of a child (and low-key him) was difficult – your sanity mattered to! You weren’t Wonowoo – you could only say and take so much about Pokemon! 
Perhaps it was already too soon to be thinking about this, but it was difficult to ignore the voice at the back of your head, nagging about what this meant for you and Vernon in the future. Granted you both have only been dating for a little over a year, the question of marriage and kids were far and few. When they did arrive, it usually was in the form of a loose tease from Seungkwan about how the two of you were hopeless as parents. Vernon would just shake his head and laugh it off. 
He never seemed to take this topic quite seriously. Your passing comments about cute kids at the zoo or how the Penguins of Madagascar showing was filled with children and their parents, were taken lightly, when perhaps you didn’t really want them to be. 
You knew you wanted at least one kid, but did Vernon?
You needed to ask and you were aware, but you thought it was probably pretty ridiculous to bring this up already. I mean, this might not be forever, right? 
A lot has already changed in this year. 
A lot can change in a year. 
Your internal struggles aside, you were interested to see how Vernon handled Nina on his own. 
“Uncle Vernon?” Nina asked again, “Pretty please? I’ll eat all my apple dippers!”
“But your mom and Y/N . . .” his voice trailed off as he echoed your concern. 
“It’s okay! Mommy’s not here and I have you and Miss Y/N! And there are nets and mats,” she pointed out to him. 
Vernon hesitated – why was it so difficult for him to turn her down? He was an adult after all. 
 “I mean,” he rubbed the back of his head and looked up at you again. “I guess?”
You smirked, cocking an eyebrow at him. Maybe, out of spite, you’ll let this one go for once. Vernon can explain to Mrs. Yoon why her daughter reeks of feet and grease when they come to pick her up later tonight. 
“Whoo!” Nina cheered as she ran back to her seat next to you. She started shoving the last of her apple slices in her mouth in a haste, not even caring for the caramel dip. 
“Slow down, Nina,” you warned. 
“Uncle Vernon is the coolest!” she shouted instead. She grinned happily with pieces of apple stuck in her teeth, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
. . . .
It was an instant regret for Vernon. 
Currently, he was trapped in one of the blue plastic cube bridge pieces at the very top. He was far too grown for the PlayPlace and could not bulldoze through it like Nina. While the little girl easily maneuvered her way around the maze, Vernon could hardly crawl through it. He tried to curl into a small ball and waddle through, but that wasn’t helpful either. The extra creaking with each step was also not very reassuring. The only nice thing was that there weren’t other children in the PlayPlace right now; no douchey eight-year-old to hurry the fuck up. 
“Uncle Vernon, come on!” 
But, there was Nina. 
Her head popped into view, the netting separating him and her. “You’re so slow! We have to climb through all of this before Miss Y/N tells us to go!”
Vernon shifted uncomfortably, feeling his neck tighten from the cramped position he was in. “Maybe we should go,” he tried. 
“Nope, nope!” Nina shook her head furiously. “We’re already inside! There’s a slide at the end.” She curled her fingers through the netting and jumped excitedly. “We can go down and run back in before she sees us.” 
Vernon followed her nervous gaze towards you down on the floor. You’re seated at the same table the three of you were just eating at, scrolling through your phone. Despite your calm expression, Vernon could definitely tell, something wasn’t sitting right with you. 
“Let’s go!” Nina shouted.
“Nina, wait–”
However, the little girl was already crawling down the narrow corridor at the speed of a lab mouse trained to recognize a maze. 
Vernon sighed, sparing you one last glance before he continued. You’re watching him this time though. It was comical the way the contraption creaked again and the corner of your lips tweaked up as if to mock him. 
He looked away and followed in the general direction Nina had headed. He really shouldn’t be in here – what if one of the screws were loose and all just collapsed with one misstep?
Vernon felt guilty for thinking such thoughts knowing Jeonghan’s daughter was in here with him right now. He had to keep her safe! He can’t be manifesting these disasters. Turning the corner towards a light, Vernon decided that the goal would to slide out of here with Nina and not go in. Maybe, he could say it was because he would get in trouble with you or something. 
“Boo!” 
“Agh! What the fuck!” Vernon shouted. He tumbled towards an opening, hand resting on his chest. Searching his surroundings, he found Nina beside him, giggling. 
“Language!” he heard you shout in the distance. 
“Fuck!” Nina repeated. She hid a chuckle behind her hand.
“Don’t say that, Nina,” Vernon scolds her breathlessly. 
“But why?” she asked. “You did – do people say it when they’re scared? Fuck!” 
“Oh my god – Nina, stop,” he shook his head anxiously. “Th-that’s only a word, adults are allowed to say, okay? If you say it in front of Miss Y/N or your parents, you’re going to be in big trouble.”
“I can say it with you though, right, Uncle Vernon?” she whispered. “Fuck!”
“No, you cannot,” Vernon stated sternly. He looked at the opening. This must be the slide. He pointed to it and told the little girl, “Let’s go down, okay? I’ve had enough fun for tonight.”
“Aw,” Nina whined, “Already?”
There was another groan from the equipment – louder this time. He cannot stay here much longer.
“Yes,” Vernon nudged her towards the opening. “You first, I’ll be right behind you.”
“Fine,” she pouted. Her short arms hang onto the top rim, swinging back and forth to build momentum before launching herself down. “Whee!”
When Vernon heard her land on the other side, he stuck his legs, one by one, into the tube and tried to push himself down. 
Key word – tried.
He got stuck after sliding probably two feet. Vernon groaned and threw his head back. “Seriously?”
“Uncle Vernon?” Nina’s voice echoed through the slide. “Are you coming?”
“Y-yeah,” he used the heel of his Converse to nudge himself a little further. “Just stuck.”
“Oh no!” Nina cried. He heard her step into the slide again. “Should I come help you?”
“No, no, no!” Vernon exclaimed desperately, “Go back to Y/N – I’ll be out soon. Promise.”
The last thing he wanted to happen was for Nina to be crawling up and he suddenly crashed into her. 
“Okay.”
He let out a small breath of relief when he heard a soft landing of her shoes on the foam carpeting. Vernon inches down slowly, finally gaining some traction. He started to speed up with the combination of pushing with his hand, pulling himself forward, and static. When he saw the clearing, relief washed over him. 
However, as luck would have it, of course, he’s too damn tall for the opening. Vernon was cramped at the opening, knees tucked and arms squeezed between his body and the plastic. His neck was craned to the right – he could hardly look up at you and Nina who were hand-in-hand watching him. 
“Um,” he smiled sheepishly, “Help?”
Nina was a little faster than you, rushing over to his aid. Her added weight as she climbed onto the landing must’ve been the straw that broke the camel’s back because Vernon heard a sickening crack and his arm suddenly felt a little looser and freer. 
Well, fuck. 
. . . .
“Y/N!” 
You were bent over, hastily adjusting Nina’s sweater before the three of you left McDonald’s. You were irritable after quite literally breaking Vernon free from the PlayPlace slide. It was embarrassing to have to explain to the teen McDonald’s employee that your boyfriend created a crack in the slide, when there was a sign that quite literally said no one older than eight years-old was allowed to enter the contraption. 
When you look up, your eyes immediately widen as you’re greeted with the sight of your ex, Jungkook. 
His hair was a little longer now, and permed, the tips of his bangs hanging over his bright doe eyes. His fashion didn’t seem to change – still sporting the simple jeans and baggy t-shirts; a plaid flannel was tied to waist. What took you aback, when perhaps it shouldn’t have, was the petite girl in a white sundress who wrapped her hand tightly around Jungkook’s arm when she saw you. 
All thoughts of Nina, who was standing between you and Vernon, fled your mind. You stiffened, unsure of how to respond and what to say, other than a strained ‘hi.’ 
It wasn’t that Jungkook has a sore spot in your memory – in fact, your breakup was mutual and as good as anyone could ask it to be. After four years of dating since high school, you realized you both grew into different people, and therefore, apart in college. It was a mutual loss of feelings for one another, a mutual agreement that you should go your separate ways. Of course, you were sad for a short bit, but nothing of a heartache. 
Nonetheless, there was a part of you that wished he didn’t see you when you were upset with your current partner. Jungkook probably did not have those sort of malicious thoughts, like ‘didn’t know how good she had it with me,’ and it was most certainly all in your head. 
Or perhaps it was you? You wanted to show him you were doing well, but you couldn’t fake it at this moment. 
All in all, the reappearance of your ex, only made you feel more insecure for some reason. Maybe Vernon wasn’t the right person for you even if deep down you wanted him to be. You knew your break up with Vernon would be much worse than the one with Jungkook. 
“Nice to see you again,” Jungkook tried. His eyes flickered to Vernon – they weren’t close, but they knew each other peripherally from mutual friends. Jungkook quickly added, “The both of you.”
“Likewise,” Vernon piped up in a neutral tone. 
“Um,” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck, looking from Vernon to you and back. Momentarily, he glossed over Nina, an idea of the situation clearly forming in his head. “Are the two of you . . .?” his voice trailed off. 
It must’ve come as a surprise to see you and Vernon together like this for neither of you were close in university. This relationship was almost a surprise to you and Vernon, yourselves. You couldn’t blame Jungkook for being puzzled.
At this, Vernon reached for your hand and cleared his throat. He gave you a firm squeeze, resting his free hand on Nina’s shoulder. To be frank, Vernon didn't care what idea exactly Jungkook was getting – the point was, you were together. Boyfriend-girlfriend, husband-wife, father-mother. Jungkook could think Nina was somehow your kid and he wouldn’t mind. 
“We are," Vernon finally answered firmly.
You turned to your boyfriend with wide eyes. 
“Oh,” Jungkook said softly. “I’m happy for you guys.”
“Thanks, I am too,” he looked back at you nonchalantly before nodding in Jungkook’s direction. “On that note, we should be on our way.” He ushered Nina towards the door. “Enjoy your meal.”
. . . .
When the three of you returned to your apartment, you started preparing Nina for bed. It was clear to Vernon that something was bothering you – you were quiet for the rest of the evening, diving head first in taking care of Nina. And to be honest, something bothered Vernon too since encountering Jungkook. 
Vernon did not envy others, nor did he claim to be perfect. It wasn’t that he was jealous of Jungkook and the unknown, presumably happy past that you had with him. What happened, happened and you were with Vernon now. He’d like to think you were satisfied with this relationship just as much as him. Nothing would change that. Vernon was content with who he was, who he had become, and who he was next to you. Nonetheless, Vernon was only human – insecurities were inevitable despite his best efforts. 
He knew this turbulence making him solemn was irrational. You had not given him a reason to doubt you and he never did to begin with. Despite knowing this, it didn’t make this feeling any less real. 
Did you regret breaking up with Jungkook? Was Jungkook a better boyfriend than Vernon? 
From what Vernon has heard through the grapevine, Jungkook happened to be every girl’s dream in university. Good-looking and adventurous, yet still respectful and caring. 
Vernon thought he looked alright, but his style was unconventional. He liked to take the city bus around at night if that counts as being adventurous?
For fucks sake, Vernon was no Jeon Jungkook. Vernon was in fact just stuck in a slide today. 
Though he knew it was unproductive to ponder these things, it was what kept him preoccupied as he put Nina to bed. 
“You should kiss Miss Y/N,” Nina stated randomly. 
Vernon furrowed his brows at the little girl. 
“She looks sad and you do too,” Nina explained. She laid her small hand over Vernon’s. “That’s what daddy does when mommy is sad.”
“I think it’s time for you to go to sleep,” Vernon sighed, pulling the blanket up to cover her chest. 
“Do you love Miss Y/N, Uncle Vernon?” Nina asked. 
God, the gall of kids – always asking the hardest, but most important questions obliviously. 
“Miss Y/N said earlier that you’re her boyfriend,” Nina continued. She kicked her feet under the covers. “Do you have to love each other to be boyfriends? Kind of like mommy and daddy are mommy and daddy because they love each other? Or Uncle Wonwoo and Auntie Leah? Miss Y/N didn’t tell me earlier when I asked about getting married.”
Did he love you? Did he want to marry you?
Vernon hesitated to answer and to be frank, he hated that he was. However, it wasn’t because he didn’t – these questions of the future were just overwhelming and he enjoyed what you had now. Alas, if things were to progress, he’d have to have answers to them soon. 
“If I’m being honest, I don’t know, kid,” Vernon mumbled. He planted a soft kiss on her forehead. “Good night, Nina.”
He didn’t wait for her to reply, turning and making his way to the door. 
“You should still kiss her, Uncle Vernon!” Nina whispered in the dark. “Good night!”
. . . .
When Vernon exited your bedroom where Nina was residing for the rest of the evening, he found you sitting on the kitchen counter. Your head is hung, eyes swarmed with questions like his own. Your legs swing back and forth, gently knocking against the cupboards. There’s an open bag of Cheeze-Its sitting next to you. 
Vernon walked over, quietly and cautiously. He knew you knew he was present, but didn’t acknowledge him. Tenderly, Vernon reached for your hand, loosely weaving his fingers in between your own. Eyes slowly rising to look at you, he mindlessly ran thumb along the side of your hand. He offered you a wistful smile as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear with his other hand. His touch lingered across your cheek.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked softly. 
You paused for a moment, eyes flickering up to the ceiling before falling to your lap again. You let out a heavy breath. Your heart swelled, appreciating how he always made these kinds of moments feel a little easier.
“I’m sorry,” you muttered. 
“For what?” Vernon asked despite having a pretty good idea of what you were referring to.  
“What happened at McDonald’s, running into Jungkook,” you explained, “Today.”
He hummed in understanding. “What about today, exactly?”
It was hard to hold your gaze – it was scary, but he knew he had to. He tried his best to put on an encouraging expression, knowing that this conversation, and further, this relationship would not go anywhere if neither of you were present, physically and mentally, and trying to avoid it. 
Only the ticking of the wall clock filled the room, deafeningly so. It was slowly drowned out by the sound of blood starting to rush in his ears, tension growing thick with each passing second. 
Your voice barely above a whisper, you took a shaky breath and confessed, “I like you a lot, Chwe . . . and,” you inhaled sharply, squeezing his hand. “That terrifies me.” You swallowed harshly, “Because what if you don’t feel the same? Or we want different things? I think I’d be . . .heartbroken.” A melancholic chuckle left your lips and you shook your head. “That's why sometimes, I feel like I treat you like such - we get too close and I push you away.”
The fear in losing him was evident in the terror that etched its way in between the space of your brows. Vernon was sympathetic; simultaneously, his heart swelled like a balloon rapidly being filled with water to the rim, threatening to burst at one final drop. The adrenaline that rushed through his veins felt like that of being confessed to by a middle school crush behind the bleachers of the soccer field, except, well, you and him were already together.
“I was worried there for a second,” Vernon stated truthfully. 
Your eyes whipped up. 
He played with your fingers. “I thought you were regretting dating me for a sec.”
“Oh?” you said softly. 
“I was kind of not the best boyfriend today either and then we saw Jungkook and I thought maybe you felt differently about me,” he explained. 
“Vernon, no!” your hands reached up to cup his face.
“I mean, can you blame me?” he chuckled half-heartedly, “I got stuck in a slide when you told us not to go.”
“I think today,” started slowly, “Made the both of us think a lot about us and what the future holds.”
“So, it wasn’t just me,” Vernon acknowledged quietly. He thought to himself momentarily before continuing. “What do you want?” You stared at him owlishly, your desires on the tip of your tongue, but fearful to share them with him. “We can’t move past this if we don’t talk about it.”
When you still didn't reply, Vernon offered, “I can tell you what I want?” 
You nodded once. 
“I think dating you for a few more years sounds okay,” he started, staring off to the side. He nodded, better affirming his words. 
He paused, making you grow anxious – does that mean he planning on breaking up with you?
“And then, maybe . . . being married sounds nice too – nice is an understatement,” the words felt unfamiliar as they fell from his lips, but he kind of liked it. “It seems far away, but I’d really love that.” 
This was something he hadn’t told anyone before because he never felt quite the same with them as he did with you. It wasn’t just easy and comfortable being with you – it was something more. It was in hard moments like this, where these conversations were difficult, but you both still managed. It was in lighter moments, where he could enjoy your company and feel relaxed. It was everything in between. 
Call him corny, but maybe the word ‘love’ can’t encompass it all that he felt for you. 
His face stretched into a grin when you chortle and shake your head. Playfully, you push him away, but Vernon was quick to catch onto your wrists. “You did really well with Nina today.”
“I think she liked you more than me,” you mumbled. 
“What do you think of Nina?” he asked. 
“She’s Jeonghan’s daughter, alright,” you joked. 
“She did suggest I kiss you tonight,” Vernon remarked, remembering his chat with the little girl before this. 
“Well,” you wrap your arms around his neck, “Do you . . . want to?”
Vernon answered by leaning in, lightly pressing his lips against yours. It’s fleeting, but still filled with the same sincerity as every other passionate kiss you’ve shared before. 
“If you want kids though, I’m not sure I’m ready for them yet,” Vernon said when you pulled away. 
“Oh with how you broke that slide, that’s certain,” you joked. 
“Does that mean you do?” 
“A family? With you?” you wrinkled your nose playfully. “Nonsense.”
He knew that look – when you don’t really mean what you say, but rather the opposite. Despite all the angst prior, this conversation was surprisingly easy to have. Maybe that was the lesson to be learned: not perfection, but just doing. 
Vernon chuckled, about to lean for another kiss when suddenly Nina’s familiar shrill shattered the moment. He jumped away from you as if you were delinquents caught by your mothers making out in the kitchen. 
“Mommy said we shouldn’t sit there like that!” she squealed, her fingers pointing at you on the counter. 
"Nina, you're supposed to be sleeping," you scold.
“We shouldn’t sit there like that though,” Vernon acknowledged. He walked over and helped you down, not without pulling you into his side though. You’re a little stunned with him being so affectionate suddenly – not that he never was, but he usually showed it in other ways, smaller gestures like the kiss he’s pressing into your temple now. 
Nina eyes the both of you curiously, the situation being pieced together slowly in her tiny head. It was visible when she put it all together, her eyes lit up. 
“Are guys getting married now!?”
Or not. 
. . . .
Epilogue
“Hey dad,” Nina tapped Jeonghan’s forearm. Pushing a piece of kimchi between his lips, he hummed softly and glanced over at his daughter. “Do you want to see a magic trick? Uncle Vernon taught me.”
When did Vernon start learning magic tricks?
“Sure,” he nodded, curious to see what his friend taught his daughter. 
With her training chopsticks with Ryan Bear on one end, she holds up a slice of pork in front of her hand. Shielding it with her other hand, she stuffed the piece of meat quickly in her mouth and shouted, “Ta-da!”
Jeonghan swallowed his food harshly and narrowed his eyes at his daughter. “Squirt – what?”
“Did you like it?” she grinned happily, returning to her food. 
“You j-just . . . ate your pork though?” Jeonghan stated. 
“Mhm! Magic!” Nina chirped. She giggled happily and took Jeonghan by surprise by shouting, "Fuck!"
Jeonghan nearly spat his water out, the profanity ringing in his ears. "Who taught you that word!?"
"Uncle Vernon too!" she kicked her feet happily.
Jeonghan ran a hand over his face and mumbled under his breath, “Oh dear - Yoon Nina, in this household, we do not use that kind of language do you hear?"
Nina's joy simmered down and she shrank back, nodding understandably. She knew when her dad used that voice, she shouldn't push her boundaries further.
His wife popped her head into the room upon hearing his brewing. 
Jeonghan sighed exasperatedly and turned to his wife, "I think we should stop hiring my friend’s as Nina’s babysitters.”
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sunshinesteviee · 2 years
Text
call it what you want - s.h.
summary: you find yourself on the edge of friendship and something more with steve at a halloween party. for @sparklingsin's spookinktober writing challenge with the prompt "quick, switch costumes with me!" wc: 8.1k wtf warnings: friends to lovers. alcohol consumption. smut!!! 18+!!! f!reader. a/n: this is the longest thing i've ever written and it killed me lol i hope y'all like it. feedback is much appreciated! love u sm. also huge shoutout to @sparklingsin and @familyvideostevie for reading this and helping me out and listening to me complain about this gd fic for weeks i love u so much thanks for putting up w me
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Parties weren’t Steve’s thing. Not anymore, anyway. And Halloween parties in particular were definitely crossed off the list, especially after everything that had happened with Nancy a few years ago. He was over Nancy, they were even friends now, but something about the idea of going to another Halloween party stirred up a sick feeling in Steve’s stomach that he wanted to run from. Somehow, though, Robin had managed to convince him that it would be fun. 
Really, it hadn’t taken much convincing on Robin’s part — all she had to do was mention you, and Steve was in, though he’d never admit that to her. It was stupid, she thought, the way the two of you were constantly pining for each other, but refusing to do anything about it. She’d heard enough lovesick complaints from her best friends, and decided she’d take it into her own hands. And Halloween seemed like the perfect opportunity. She wasn’t quite sure how yet, but she was sure the night would end at the very least with confessions. She’d make sure of it. 
And so, Steve was two drinks deep in a crowded house, filled with more regret than beer. Robin had somehow disappeared after one drink, Eddie was nowhere in sight, and he still had yet to see you. Maybe you’d decided not to come. If so, the whole night would be a waste. He hadn’t missed parties one bit. The stuffy, crowded rooms filled with sweaty bodies pressed against each other as music pounded in his ears, pulsing lights making his head throb. 
It didn’t used to be so bad. He used to be the keg king, down shot after shot, maybe get lucky, and still wake up the next day more or less fine. Now, two drinks usually did him in, and he didn’t always like the feeling of being drunk. Of being out of control. To be fair, he’d taken quite a few beatings that had definitely fucked with his head since he’d last been to a proper party. But parties just weren’t enjoyable anymore. Especially when all of his friends had disappeared, and he didn’t know anyone surrounding him. 
Tipping the last of his drink into his mouth, Steve crushed the red plastic cup in his hand and tossed it into the trash can nearby that was already almost overflowing. A familiar laugh sounded behind him, a sweet sound above the loud bass, “Whoa there, champ. How many drinks have you had?!”
Steve already had a smile on his face as he turned around, and his jaw nearly hit the floor at the sight of you. You hadn’t ditched. And better yet, you looked fucking gorgeous. He let out an adoring laugh, eyebrows furrowing together, forehead wrinkling as he asked, “Champ?”
“Your costume, silly,” you nodded towards his outfit as you reached out, placing your warm palm against his bicep. Without thinking, Steve leaned into your touch, stepping in closer to you, his hand grazing your hip slightly. 
Since it had been a last-minute decision, and since he wasn’t fond of Halloween anyways, Steve had decided to pull his baseball uniform from high school out of his closet. It fit a little tighter than it used to, but would work well enough for one night. The ugly green and orange baseball jersey was tucked into a pair of baseball pants, and he’d even tucked his wild hair underneath a Hawkins high baseball hat. Steve’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, the soft pink obvious on his pale skin, even in the dim lighting of the house. “Oh, right. Yeah, I think I kinda… knocked it out of the park with this one.”
The snort that left your mouth had Steve smiling again as you clapped a hand over your mouth, “Oh my god. That was fucking awful, Steve. It does look good, though. Can’t believe you’d ruin all of your pretty hair under that hat.”
Steve flushed again, a common occurrence that he couldn’t help when he was around you, and shrugged, “What can I say? I’m dedicated to the costume. I like your costume, too, by the way; you look nice.”
Your eyes lit up at his compliment as you bounced on the balls of your feet nervously, “Yeah? Thanks, Stevie.” You were wearing a short shirt that had “Camp Crystal Lake” printed across the chest, with a picture of a lake underneath it, and a pair of red shorts that were also nearly too short; you were a counselor from one of your favorite horror movies, Friday the 13th. Quite frankly, the costume fit you perfectly, accentuating all of your best features, and you weren’t oblivious to the way his eyes had caught on you when he’d first turned around. 
“Yeah! That’s a great movie.”
“I thought you didn’t like horror movies?” you questioned, a teasing tone lacing your words. You and Eddie had had to convince him more than once to watch a horror movie on one of your movie nights, and he usually hid underneath a blanket for more than half the movie. 
“Well, no,” Steve huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he narrowed his eyes at you, “But I’ve seen that one, and it wasn’t bad. Do you want a drink?"
When you quickly agreed, Steve’s hand left your back as he pulled back from you. Before you could mourn the warmth of his hand on your skin, though, his hand was reaching toward yours. “C’mon then, babe.”
Without a second thought, your hand slipped into his, fingers slotting together easily. Steve started pulling you through the crowd, weaving between bodies skillfully. The grip he had on your hand, though gentle, was firm, as if you’d be lost forever if he let go. As if the crowds of people would swallow you whole and carry you away from him. He glanced back a few times to make sure you were alright, flashing you a small smile every single time his eyes caught yours. 
The alcohol was finally starting to hit Steve, making him feel a bit lighter, though maybe it was just from being near you. Your hand in his was enough to make him feel tipsy. To have him questioning if it was real. He definitely didn’t need to have another drink, not if you were going to be holding his hand like your life depended on it. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, to be close to you, but the alcohol had his senses dialed up. Steve knew that if he wasn’t careful, he might let his real feelings for you slip, and he didn’t want to risk the friendship you had. 
Steve shook his head in an attempt to clear it, though the alcohol was making it a bit difficult, and refocused back on you. He gave you a lopsided smile, working to untangle his fingers from yours, “Whaddya want, cutie? Punch? I had two cups and it’s kinda strong because I’m definitely starting to feel it, and—”
“I’ll have punch!” You’d listen to him ramble for hours, but the kitchen was even more packed than the room you’d just been in. You didn’t see Steve drunk, or even tipsy, often, and you adored the way his face flushed red and he started rambling. He’d clearly had just enough to have him feeling good, not enough to tip him over the edge, and it was endearing the way he seemed to let go a little bit. 
Not wanting to be away from your side for too long, Steve hurried across the kitchen to get a cup and fill it with punch for you. He pushed by a few people on his way back, trying to be gentler than the asshole who had pushed you, and frowned as some of the drink spilled over the edge of the cup and ran down his fingers. The pout was still on his lips as he approached you, holding the cup out, “Sorry, didn’t mean to spill it. Here you go, babe.” 
Taking the cup from him carefully, you smiled gratefully, glad that you hadn’t been the one to cross the kitchen, “Thanks, Stevie. You didn’t get one for yourself?”
“Nah, if I have more I’ll be suffering tomorrow,” he replied. As he talked, Steve lifted his hand that was now covered in the sticky punch, and slipped one of his fingers into his mouth to clean it off. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you stared in disbelief as Steve did it again with another finger. This time, he caught the look on your face and his own eyes went wide as he stared at you in confusion, completely oblivious, “What?”
You nearly choked on your drink, and you quickly shook your head, turning away from Steve so he wouldn’t see the reaction you were having. There was no doubt you were attracted to Steve — how could you not be? He was kind and funny and brave, and treated you better than anyone else ever had. The problem was, he wasn’t your boyfriend, and you were fairly certain he had no intention of that. He was a nice guy to everyone.  Just because he called you babe or cutie from time to time, and held your hand or shared blankets with you… that didn’t mean he was interested, and you’d done your best to shove those feelings down. You didn’t want to lose Steve’s friendship above all else, so if you had to pretend your feelings for him were strictly platonic, you could do that. But watching him lick his fingers clean sparked something in your stomach, and made your face feel hot. To be fair, you had already downed a shot with Nancy while the two of you were getting ready, so maybe you could just blame the way your thighs clenched on the alcohol. 
Instead of responding, you downed half the cup of punch just in time for Steve to look back at you, a grin breaking out on his face as he chanted teasingly, “Chug, chug, chug!” 
You nearly choked again, this time as you laughed, sputtering some of the red liquid out of your mouth, “Steve!” You wiped the back of your hand across your mouth to catch the drops sliding down your chin with a giggle, “Stop itttt.”
“Hey!” Steve’s pout matched yours, eyes narrowing at you, bottom lip pushing out, “How come you can tease me when I’m drinking but I can’t tease you?”
Your eyes may have lingered too long on Steve’s lips as he pouted, but he didn’t notice with the way he was unabashedly returning the favor as your tongue darted out to catch the last of the punch that had spilled past your lips. You wondered what his lips would feel like against yours. If they were as soft as they looked. If he was as good a kisser as the girls from high school claimed. You shook your head, desperately trying to focus so you could answer Steve’s question instead of gawk at him, “No, it’s not allowed.” 
Steve laughed hysterically as his arms wrapped over your shoulders so he could pull you into him. He got even more affectionate than normal when he’d had some alcohol. Pressing his lips to your hair, he shook his head, but was totally sincere as he replied, “Okay, fine! I’ll never make fun of you again, cutie. Promise.  Should we find Robin? Or maybe Nancy and Jonathan?” 
His words had you feeling like you were on fire once more, but you quickly agreed, needing to find someone else to get your mind off of Steve. To think of something other than SteveSteveSteveSteve. Your cheek pressed into the rough fabric of the jersey he was wearing, and you nodded against his chest, “Yeah, let’s go find them.” 
“Wait,” he paused, fingers wrapping around your arm as you tried to pull away from his grasp, “you still have…” His sentence trailed off as he licked the pad of his thumb before placing his free hand against your cheek, fingers slipping into the hair just behind your ear. His thumb pressed to your chin, rubbing across your skin carefully in an attempt to get rid of the last of the punch that you’d spilled. Steve’s hand slid down, fingers hooking underneath your chin as his thumb dragged down, pulling on your bottom lip slightly, and you thought for a moment that he was going to kiss you then and there, his eyes flashing with something you hadn’t seen in them before. But as quickly as it came, it disappeared, and Steve was back to his tipsy, bubbly self, “Got it!”
You felt absolutely breathless, frozen in place as Steve pulled away searching the crowd for anyone he recognized. “You coming or what, babe?” 
“I, uh–” you shook your head to clear it and moved towards Steve, “Yeah, ‘m coming.” 
Finding Robin seemed to be a lost cause, but Nancy and Jonathan had been easy to find, talking to some of Nancy’s friends from high school, drinks in hand. And after talking for a bit, it didn’t take much to pull your friends away to dance with you. You immediately grabbed Steve, feeling bolder than you normally would be, and pulled him into you, chest to chest. 
Steve’s heart thudded in his chest as his hands grabbed at your hips at the same time, fingers pressing lightly into the soft skin there as you swayed to the music. Had he been sober and more aware of what he was really doing, he probably would’ve been much more flustered with the way you were pressed up against him. And, had he been sober, he would’ve seen the look Nancy and Jonathan were exchanging knowingly, with Nancy in on Robin’s plan. 
Robin found you a bit later, the sound of your name being called over the music was enough to get your attention, and you quickly stopped dancing next to Nancy to search the crowd of people surrounding you. It wasn’t hard to find Robin, who was already pretty tall and was wearing heels for her costume. You grinned at her, throwing your arms out to her for a hug as you shrieked her name, “Robin!”
“Hey, hot stuff!” she replied, wrapping you up in her arms, careful of the drink in her hand, “Where have you beeeen? I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
You scoffed, “Stevie and I have been dancing. Thought maybe you weren’t here,” you said, pushing your bottom lip out into a pout. 
“I am! I have been the whole time!” she laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, “I’m glad I found you! We’re gonna play a game!” She paused and turned to point at Steve who had been watching the two of you, “You too, dingus! You’re gonna play, too.”
“What? No, Robin, I don’t—”
“Please, Stevie?” you asked, cutting him off with wide, pleading eyes, even though you had no idea what the game actually was, or who you’d be playing with. 
The alcohol Steve had consumed was now starting to wear off, while it seemed like it was in full swing for you. Had Robin shown up half an hour ago while he was still feeling tipsy, and was actually dancing with you, he would’ve agreed no problem. Now, as he started to think a bit more clearly, he knew that Robin’s drunk ideas usually weren’t her best, and at the very least, he’d make sure you all didn’t get into too much trouble. And, as always, he couldn’t say no to the look you were giving him. “Okay, okay, fine! I’ll play.”
Reaching out to close the distance between the two of you, your fingers curled around Steve’s bicep to pull him closer. You were giving him the brightest smile he’d ever seen as you leaned into his side, “Yay! C’mon, Harrington.”
The smile that pulled at Steve’s lips was involuntary as your hand pushed down his arm and into his own hand, tugging him behind you as you followed Robin through the house, back to the other side where she’d been beforehand with a few other friends. They weren’t really people you knew – mostly Robin’s friends from band, and Eddie and a few of his friends – but you weren’t going to let that stop you from having fun. 
“Okay!” Robin clapped her hands, drawing the attention of the small group, “Everyone stand up, get in a circle. We’re playing a new game!” 
“What game is it?” Eddie grumbled, ever the contrarian, though he was getting to his feet to do as Robin said. 
Steve had also reluctantly joined the circle, standing at one of Robin’s sides, arms crossed over his chest as he waited impatiently for her to explain what was going on. You couldn’t help but giggle at his sullen expression as you glanced at him from the other side of your friend standing between the two of you. Your laugh caught his attention, and he cracked a smile as he glanced over Robin to look at you, eyebrows furrowing together as if he was asking “What’s so funny?”
You shook your head, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth with a smile as you quickly glanced away, trying to focus on what Robin was saying. Only after you’d listen to half of the “rules” did you realize that this was some kind of speed costume changing game, and you groaned, feeling a bit too tipsy for trying to change quickly. Not only that, but this felt like a game that some boy in high school had come up with in hopes to see the girl he liked half naked. 
“On the count of three, find someone that you want to change costumes with, and then we’ll time everyone! One… two… three!” 
You’d been counting on switching with Robin, considering she was right next to you, and you could probably get into at least some of her clothes. Steve had a similar idea – who else was he going to switch with when he’d already shared clothes with her before? – and turned in her direction. Robin, on the other hand, had a different idea, pointing aggressively at Nancy who was across the circle from her, “Nance! You’re my partner!” She quickly stepped out from between you and Steve and darted over to Nancy without letting her respond. 
At the same time, both you and Steve groaned in frustration, “Robin!” She all but cackled, an evil grin on her face that you knew meant this had been her plan all along. You’d told her about your feelings for Steve, but you never expected her to use that information against you.  
Still, you turned to Steve with a grin, hooking your arm through his to pull him closer to you, “Guess you’re my partner, Harrington! No backing out now!” 
As soon as he realized that partners were being shoved in one of the closets one at a time to change as fast as possible, Steve wished desperately that he could back out. His face burned at just the thought of being in a confined space with you while you took off your clothes. He didn’t have long to think about it, though, as after two other pairs were timed, Robin quickly pushed the two of you in, closing the door behind you and plunging you into complete darkness, except for the small sliver from under the door. 
You and Steve weren’t strangers to being close to one another, but this felt like a new level of intimacy, and Steve didn’t know what to do. His heart was pounding in his ears, so loud he was worried you’d be able to hear it, too, considering how close you were. It didn’t seem to affect you as much, though maybe that was just the alcohol, and you giggled with an urgent whisper, “Quick! Switch costumes with me, Steve! I don’t wanna lose!” With that, you pulled your shirt over your head, nearly elbowing Steve in the face with how fast you were moving. Steve immediately averted his eyes to the dark ceiling, wanting to be a gentleman, though he’d be lying if he said he’d never thought about you shirtless. 
Frustrated with how slow he was moving, you gave his shoulder a weak push, “C’mon, Stevie!”
Steve huffed, amused with how badly you wanted to win, even though he knew it wasn’t going to happen, “Okay, I’m going!” He started unbuttoning the baseball jersey as fast as he could as you started to shove your shorts down your legs, and suddenly his buttons became a lot more interesting, fingers fumbling with the small pieces of plastic. The closet felt scorching hot as he shrugged off the jersey and quickly pulled the  plain white tee he was wearing underneath off as well, shoving it in your direction. “Jesus, babe. Here.”
The shirt you’d been wearing had been quickly dropped to the floor as you pulled Steve’s shirt over your head, immediately engulfed in his scent. He always smelled nice, and this shirt was no exception. As much as you wanted to hug yourself and breathe in Steve’s comforting scent, you also wanted to win, and slipped the jersey on, motioning for Steve to take his pants off next. Your voice was frantic when you spoke again, “Pants! Give ‘em to me!”
The giggling from his friends outside the door was distracting to Steve as he thought of ways he could get back at Robin for this. It was torture, really, being shoved into a small space with the girl he liked while they undressed, but in a situation where he couldn’t touch her without seeming like a perv. He was only snapped out of his thoughts when your hands reached out towards his waist, going for the button on his pants. There was no way he could let that happen, and pushed your hands away, all but shouting, “I got it!”
He quickly shimmied out of his pants and traded them with you for the tiny shorts you’d been wearing. Groaning internally, Steve pulled them up his legs and knew immediately that he looked ridiculous. They barely fit over his thighs, and his ass was nearly hanging out. It was bordering on completely inappropriate to be wearing in public; he might as well just be wearing his boxers with how little it left to the imagination. “These do not fit.”
Just then, you stumbled forward as you tried to get Steve’s baseball pants on, hand catching on his chest for the second time that evening. His hand shot out as if on instinct, grasping at the bare skin of your hip to steady you, even though there wasn’t really any place for you to go. You were giggling like a maniac, breathless as you murmured a thanks and pulled the pants up all the way. It was only as you buttoned the pants that you realized your shirt had dropped on the ground, and you grabbed it, shoving it into his hands, failing at your horrible attempt to avoid looking at his bare chest, “Last one!”
Steve stared at the fabric in his hands skeptically; the shirt was already short on you, there was no way this wasn’t going to be the most extreme crop top anyone had ever seen on him, “I don’t wanna rip it!”
“You won’t!” you reassured him, “‘s okay if you do, anyway. ‘M never gonna wear it again.”
Letting out what was possibly the most dramatic sigh you’d ever heard, Steve pulled your shirt over his head. The fabric stretched around his arms and chest, the hem falling just below his pecs. His entire stomach was exposed, and while it wasn’t exactly what he’d prepared for that night, the smile on your face in the dark made it worth it. 
As your hand reached for the doorknob, Steve realized you were missing one last piece of his costume, “Wait! Can't forget this.” He lifted his hat off of his head and placed it on yours carefully, running his hand through his hair, “Okay, we’re good.”
Your heart fluttered in your chest as he placed his hat on your head, and you nearly dropped everything to kiss him then and there, but the sound of someone laughing outside the door caught your attention. You gave Steve a grin and then pushed the door open, nearly falling over yourself as you shouted, “We’re done! Did we win?!”
Steve’s hand was at your hip again to steady you as he followed you out. He finally felt like he could breathe again. The whole thing couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes, but it felt like he’d spent a lifetime in the closet with you. So close, but so far. 
So wrapped up in his own thoughts, Steve missed everything you and Robin were discussing, until there was a loud wolf whistle from someone else in the group, “Damn, Harrington! Who knew you had all that ass!”
 Without even glancing in the direction of the noise, Steve knew who it was. He flipped his middle finger up but grinned at his friend, “Fuck off, Munson!”
You let out a laugh as you turned to Steve to say something, but you felt like all of the air had been sucked out of your lungs when you finally properly saw Steve. It’d been too dark in the closet to really see what your clothes looked like on Steve, so you were surprised to see how little of your costume actually covered him. His biceps, stomach, and legs were on full display, and somehow, it still wasn’t enough. Your eyes caught on his arms, the small moles and freckles that covered his stomach, and then, the trail of dark hair that disappeared into the waistband of the much-too-short shorts. 
Robin, who was standing next to you, nudged your shoulder, a smirk evident on her face. Her plan was working. You were short-circuiting. Even though your head was feeling less fuzzy due to the alcohol, you might as well have been drunk on Steve. You watched for a few seconds as he found space on the couch to sit down, his cheeks flushed a light pink, and then turned to your friend. 
“Robin!” you hissed her name, grabbing at her elbow to pull her closer to you. You gave her the most menacing glare you could muster, but before you could say anything else, she let out a low giggle. 
She looked quite pleased with herself, leaning in and whispering loudly, “Did anything happen in there?” 
“No! How would that even be possible?” you asked, laughing a little yourself at her ridiculousness. 
“Dunno, but a girl’s gotta try. Still have the rest of the night to make something happen.” 
As much as you didn’t want to give in to Robin’s hand, you were starting to realize that if she was trying this hard to get something to happen between you and Steve, it probably meant that Steve felt something for you too. You narrowed your eyes at her and then huffed, all but stomping away in search of Steve. If something was going to happen, it had to happen before you lost the confidence. 
He was still sitting on the couch, chatting with Eddie, but quickly looked up as you walked over, eyebrows furrowed in concern at your seriousness, “Are you okay?”
“Will you come with me?” you asked instead of answering his question, holding your hand out to him. 
“Yeah, of course,” he replied, still confused, but took your hand in his and stood up, allowing you to lead him away. You weaved in and out of people, trudging up the stairs to find a quieter place to talk. 
When you finally found an empty bathroom, you flicked on the lights and pulled Steve inside, shutting and locking the door behind you so no one would bother you. The music from downstairs had quieted to a dull thud and suddenly the idea of confessing your feelings felt much more daunting in the harsh light of the bathroom. You quickly turned away from Steve to try to take a deep breath, wringing your hands. Steve watched in concern, reaching a hand out to rest on your forearm gently, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay? Did something happen?” 
You were just going to have to go for it. Turning around quickly to face him again, you started rambling, “I don’t really know how to say this, so I think I just have to jump into the fucking deep end and say it. Especially since Robin’s getting on my nerves with all of the scheming and smug smiles, which I’m sure you’ve noticed, but if I’m reading this wrong, I’m really sorry, we can just pretend it never happened, and–”
“Say what, babe?” Steve interrupted, shaking his head which caused his hair to bounce slightly, “You’re worrying me.” 
“I really like you, Steve. A lot.”
It was silent for a moment, and you couldn’t tell what Steve was thinking with the way he was staring at you so intently, nearly scrutinizing. Your heart began pounding in your chest, worried that you had read the entire situation wrong. His arms crossed over his chest and he let out a soft sigh, “You’re drunk.” 
“I’m not!” you insisted quickly, shaking your head vehemently, “Maybe the tiniest bit tipsy, but mostly sober, I swear. I’m– I’m serious, Steve. I just… I thought maybe Robin had a point? And honestly, you look so fucking good in those shorts, and I–”
You were cut off as Steve surged forward, one hand moving to cup the back of your head, the other grabbing at your hip to pull your body into his. Before you could process what was happening, Steve’s lips were on yours and he was kissing you desperately. Your hands struggled to find purchase as they landed on his shoulders and you kissed him back, hardly able to believe that this was actually happening. That you were kissing Steve. But just as soon as you’d started to wrap your head around it, Steve pulled back, eyes wide, chest heaving. 
“You don’t…” he stopped himself and shook his head as he looked down at the floor for a moment before looking up to you, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that. How long I’ve liked you.”  His hand that had grabbed at your side flattened as he smoothed over the fabric of the baseball pants, his gaze dropping down to the floor again bashfully. 
“Are you drunk?” you asked in disbelief. 
Steve laughed, a soft and amused sound, as he shook his head and repeated your earlier sentiment, “No. Just barely tipsy, almost completely sober. I feel sober now.” 
The kiss had sobered you up, too. Your hands slid down from his shoulders, palms resting flat against his chest as you tilted your head up so you could see him clearly. You could count each individual eyelash if you wanted. Count each and every freckle on his face. But all you really wanted was to kiss him. 
Your lips met his again as you pushed your chin up, fingers curling into the fabric of the shirt as Steve sighed into your mouth. Both of his hands dropped to your waist, pressing against your body gently until the small of your back bumped into the counter behind you. He squeezed your waist again as he murmured against your lips, “Up.” 
You jumped just enough as he helped to lift you onto the counter. His palms grasped at your thighs, fingers digging into the softness there as he stepped into the space between your legs. Once his lips were back on yours, his hands dropped down to your ass and pulled you forward on the counter easily. The feeling made you gasp; your shorts on him left little to the imagination with how you were pressed against him, “Steve.” Your own hands slid down from where they were resting against his chest and pushed against the soft lines of his abdomen, feeling up towards the tiny shirt on him.
“Mm?” he hummed, distracted by the feeling of your hands on his skin. His lips trailed along your jaw, nipping at your skin softly. 
“Want you,” you breathed out, eyes fluttering shut momentarily at the feeling of his lips on your neck. 
This caught Steve’s attention and his eyes lit up at your admission, “Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you nodded quickly, cheeks filling with heat as you recalled the moment earlier in the evening when Steve had licked the spilled punch off of his fingers, “Want… want your fingers.”  
“Shit, okay, babe. Just let me…” he trailed off as his fingers hooked into the waistband of the baseball pants. You lifted your hips to help, letting him drag the fabric down your legs and drop them to the floor. Steve’s eyes caught on the wet spot in the center of your underwear and he cursed softly as his hands slid back up your legs, thumbs sliding up the inside of your thighs. A smirk was growing on his lips, “Y’already so wet, baby.” 
You let out a soft huff of embarrassment, cheek pressing into your shoulder to ease the burn as you looked up at Steve, “You’re… you just… you look really fucking hot in basically a crop top and short shorts and then you’re kissing me like I’ve never been kissed before, and–”
“Relax, cutie. I got you,” Steve’s eyes softened, the pads of his thumbs rubbing small circles up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to the hem of your panties. At the same time, the tip of his nose brushed down the length of yours before gently nudging up against yours until he caught your lips with his own. 
He kissed you a bit softer than he had before, murmuring as his fingers slipped under the hem of your panties, rubbing back and forth against the delicate skin, “Can I get rid of these?”
Instead of answering, you lifted your hips off of the counter again so Steve could pull the fabric off. It dangled off of your ankle for a moment before falling to the ground to join the pants. Steve’s hands were warm at your knees as he pushed your legs apart, but before he could properly touch you, you grabbed at his wrist, fingers circling around it carefully. He watched you in confusion, about to speak but quickly cut himself off when you finally did what you’d been wanting to do all evening. 
You pulled his hand up to your mouth, kissing his palm once before your tongue darted out to circle his middle and ring fingers. Steve’s jaw dropped open slightly, eyes somehow growing even wider as you took his fingers into your mouth, his breath hitching, “Jesus fucking christ, babe, I—” Your hand still wrapped around his wrist gave it a small tug, releasing his fingers from your lips with a small pop. “Fuckin’ hell, baby.”
Steve kissed you like it was his last chance, tugging at your lips and licking into your mouth, distracting you enough to let his hand drift back down to your center. You jolted forward, whining into his mouth as his spit-slick fingers traced up your center until his fingertip nudged into your clit. “Please, Stevie.”
“I got you, baby,” he replied softly, emphasizing his words with another circle over your clit. Then, as if reading your mind, he slipped two fingers into you, drawing quiet moans from the both of you. “Shit, you’re so tight.”
His words had you clenching around his fingers as you leaned back, pressing your palms into the cool countertops beneath you. Finally, he started moving his fingers, thrusting them in and out of your cunt at a slow pace. “Steve, I need— oh, shit— I need more.”
Happy to oblige, Steve picked up the pace a bit, fingertips just grazing the spot that was going to make you see stars. Ever in tune with you and your body, he heard your soft whimper, and saw the way your fingers curled over the edge of the countertop, knuckles white with how tightly you were gripping it. He didn’t really have to ask, but did anyway, a knowing smirk settling over his lips, “Right there?”
“Ri-right there,” you repeated, voice breaking as you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against Steve’s hand. He curled his fingers inside of you and then he doubled down, fingertips repeatedly rubbing against the same spot that had you keening before. And when his thumb pressed to your clit, you nearly fell apart then and there.  
“C’mon, baby, know you’re close,” Steve muttered, rubbing his thumb over your clit again and again and again until you were clenching around him and falling over the edge with a loud moan of his name.
Your head fell back, thudding against the mirror on the wall behind you as you gasped for air, knocking Steve’s hat on your head off, chest heaving, “Fuck, Steve, I–” The words died in your throat as your eyes fluttered open, only to find Steve with his fingers halfway to his mouth. 
He paused for a moment but quickly took note of the way your breath hitched, eyes wide, and slipped his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean for the second time that evening. You squirmed against the counter, trying to shuffle off of it as Steve hummed around his fingers and then pulled them from his lips, “Mm, y’taste so good, babe.” 
“Holy shit, Stevie,” you gasped as you stumbled off of the counter. 
Steve’s hands shot out, grabbing at your hips to steady you, “You okay?”
“More than okay,” you replied, nodding as your hands trailed down Steve’s chest. To prove your point, you leaned up on your toes and pressed your mouth to his. One of your hands curled into the tiny shirt as you kissed him, and the other slid down his chest and abdomen, brushing over the soft hair that disappeared under the waistband of the shorts. You paused, pulling your mouth from Steve’s to look up at him through your eyelashes, “Can I?”
“I— yeah,” Steve nodded hard, hair bouncing with the movement. He looked so pretty — prettier than normal — with his messy hair and wide hazel eyes, lips pink and shiny from your kissing. As he dipped back down to kiss you again, you slid your hand under the waistband of the shorts, but over his boxers. He groaned as you began palming him, and you nearly did as well. 
The shorts left very little to the imagination — you knew Steve was big, but feeling him hard in your hand was something completely different. You wanted him, and you weren’t sure you could wait much longer. Your fingers tugged at the shorts and his boxers, discarding them into the pile of your clothes, and you pressed a kiss to his hipbone as you straightened up again, “What… what do you want, Stevie?”
His chest heaved as your hand wrapped around his length, stroking him slowly while you waited for an answer. Steve felt like he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t function. Not when you were finally, finally touching him. He wanted to do so many things with you, but most of all, he wanted you. “Need to be inside you, baby, fuck.”
Your breath hitched a little at his admission and you nodded quickly, wanting whatever he wanted, “Okay. ‘M yours, Stevie.”
“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” he groaned, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your hips again to help you back onto the counter and pull you towards the edge. “Do you— um, I don’t have a condom, I—”
“‘S okay,” you shook your head quickly, leaning back into your hands as one of your legs hooked around Steve’s waist and pulled him in closer to you, “‘m on the pill.”
“Are you sure?” he asked softly, eyes searching yours carefully. 
“Positive, Steve. I want you. Have for a long time.”
That was enough for Steve, and he shuffled forward, one hand resting against your waist while the other reached down to line himself up at your entrance. You sucked in a sharp breath as Steve pushed in slowly, your hands sliding into his hair at the back of his head. It was more of a stretch than you were used to, and it must have shown on your face because Steve’s hand left your hip and came up to cradle your cheek carefully, lips pressing to the corner of your mouth, “Okay?”
“Mhm,” you breathed out heavily, eyes flicking open to find Steve’s face centimeters from yours. His thumb rubbed soothingly over your cheekbone, back and forth a few times, and you nodded, “More, Steve.”
Steve nodded, pressing another soft kiss to your lips as he pushed forward again slowly, searching your face for any sign that you wanted to stop. And when he found none, he continued until his hips were flush with yours. His jaw clenched, fingers digging into your thigh that was around his waist, and hitched it higher up his side to push a bit deeper. “Tell me when you’re ready,” he murmured, dropping kisses to your shoulder. 
Your mind was racing, but with thoughts of only SteveSteveSteveSteve once again. Your senses were flooded with him; the smell of his cologne and sweat, the sound of his heavy breaths in your ear, the taste of his lips on yours, his hands on your body and his cock buried deep inside your cunt. With a gasping breath, you pulled Steve’s chest to yours, your other leg wrapping around his waist. “Ready. ‘M ready. You can move.” 
His hands slid under your arms and wrapped around your back to hold you against him as he began to move his hips slowly, “God, baby, you— fuck— you feel so good around me. So good for me, huh? Been wanting you like this forever.”
You rolled your hips into his as you all but sobbed his name, pressing your heels into the small of his back. He took the hint quickly and picked up the pace, the filthy sound of his skin smacking yours filling the small bathroom. Your hands searched over his shoulders and back, slipping underneath the shirt of yours that he was somehow still wearing, nails digging into his skin. 
Steve’s chin hooked over your shoulder, and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror behind you. He looked just as fucked out as he felt; eyes and hair wild as he clung to you. What really got to him, though, was the sight of his last name sprawled across your back. Maybe, just maybe, you’d finally be his after all of this. Heart racing at the sight, he set a punishing pace, “Look so fuckin’ good in my clothes, sweetheart. You’re so… so fucking perfect.” 
“Steve— oh fuck— you feel so good. Gonna come soon, ‘m so close—” you were mumbling incoherently into Steve’s neck, trying your best to meet his thrusts, which became harder as one of his hands snaked down between the two of you to rub over your clit. You clenched around him again at the feeling, pulling the best noise you’d ever heard from the back of Steve’s throat. Your moan echoed his, completely oblivious to the fact that you were still at a party and that someone could probably hear you. 
“Gonna come for me, my pretty girl?”
My pretty girl. His and only his. It was enough for you to come undone, Steve’s name intertwined with the curses and filthy moans you couldn’t hold back. His thrusts faltered, hips stuttering against yours as he came, your name spilling from his lips in a way you wanted to hear again and again and again. 
Your chest heaved against his as you both tried to catch your breaths, and you left soft, open-mouthed kisses to the crook of his neck where you’d buried your face as you’d come. His hands were gentle as they pushed up your thighs and hips, around your back to slip under the shirt of his you were wearing. They were exceptionally warm, tracing over the curve of your spine as he pressed your body into his, voice soft at your ear as he murmured, “Are you okay?”
You let out a soft laugh as you kissed up Steve’s jaw, fingers slipping into the slightly damp hair at the nape of his neck, twisting a strand around your index finger, “‘M perfect, Steve. Are you okay?”
“Fuck,” he laughed, shaking his head in amusement, popping up from your shoulder to look into your eyes, “I’ve never been better. Meant what I said… been wanting you forever.” 
“Yeah?” you asked quietly, feeling bashful, like he wasn’t still inside of you.
“Oh yeah,” he nodded, dipping his head down to press a soft peck to your lips. At the same time, his hands moved back down to your hips, holding you tightly as he finally pulled out. You winced slightly at the feeling, causing a soft apology to tumble from Steve’s lips, followed by another soft peck. 
It was quiet as you cleaned each other up as best as you could, stealing sweet kisses from the other more often than necessary. The sound of the music had finally come back into focus, and you realized that it wasn’t as loud as you’d remembered. Still, you’d do it all again, even though you weren't sure you could walk, and you knew your friends were going to give you shit for how long the two of you had disappeared. 
As you redressed, you finally swapped your clothes back, but just as you were about to give Steve the last piece of his costume — the jersey — he shook his head, cupping your cheek in his hand, tilting your head up, “You wear it. Looks better on you. And besides, need everyone to know you’re mine now.” 
You didn’t put up a fight, grinning and shrugging the jersey back over your shirt that Steve had definitely stretched out. Smoothing down your shirt, you held your hands out to your sides slightly, “Good?” 
Steve laughed again, reaching out to swipe a thumb under your eye in an attempt to remove some of the mascara that had smudged, “As good as it’s gonna get. And still perfect. Ready?”
Before he could open the door, you grabbed his hat off of the counter and brushed his hair back before placing it on his head, “For the sex hair. Oh, and Steve?”
“Yeah, cutie?” 
“Good game!” you giggled, slapping his ass before bolting out of the bathroom, leaving Steve to stare after you for a few moments with the biggest grin on his face. 
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Love On My Fingers, Lust On My Tongue.
18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI
A/N: This story is totally self-indulgent and was inspired by one specific line from the fic Wild Child, written by the lovely and immensely talented @writingcold. If you haven't already, go check it out, you won't regret it, believe me😉
I really hope you like this one. It's been ages since I last indulged in writing this kind of fics.
Special thanks to @edgingthedarkness for suggesting this delicious gif!
Join my taglist here.
Word count: 6K
Pairing: Jake x female!reader
Warnings: NSFW 18+ONLY, graphic sexual content, handjobs, oral (m!receiving), use of toys, anal play, pegging.
Summary: Coming home late from work, you decide to skip dinner to better savour dessert.
________________________________
Winter really didn't seem to let the warm rays of spring sunshine free to dissolve its icy tentacles.
Snow kept falling for the entire day without a pause but your boss was adamant in his decision of not letting you go home early. That bastard.
You were angry, freezing and starving and you couldn't wait to finally go home, shower, inhale dinner, bury yourself under at least three blankets and cocoon in Jake’s warm embrace.
He was lucky. He was home from tour and still asleep when you had left for work. You had been thinking about him the whole day. You envied and longed for him at the same time.
When it was finally 5pm, you clocked out and reached your car as quickly as possible, while trying not to break your neck slipping on the copious snow on the pavement.
After pushing the snow off the windshield, your gloves were soaked and your boots were full of icy snow slowly melting in your socks.
You felt anger increase in your chest as a passing car hit a puddle and soaked your jeans. You were about to flip them the bird and send them to hell but karma took the matter into its own hands before you could, sending the way-to-fast proceeding car to spin out in the middle of the road. Thank God there was no-one else there or it would have caused a big accident.
You were about to go check if they were alright when they drove off.
You climbed in your car and turned the heat at maximum level.
When finally you started to feel your own hands again, you took the road and started driving home.
But unfortunately not for long.
Traffic was always bad in your town but when snow was involved it was a proper nightmare.
You were proceeding so slowly that it was a miracle if you could be home in two hours time.
You phoned Jake and told him you were basically trapped on the road home.
He reassured you that he would cook for you and run you a hot bath for when you would be home.
You thanked him profusely. Mentally you were already home with him.
~
After an hour or so, the traffic jam went down unexpectedly and you found yourself pulling up your driveway much sooner than you had originally anticipated.
You wanted to surprise Jake, so you didn't call him to tell him you were early.
When you opened the door of your house, warmth and the fragrant smell of pizza engulfed you and your mouth watered instantly.
Jake was surprised to see you.
He was sprawled on the sofa wearing only a soft robe around his body. When he saw you were there, he approached you, placing a lingering kiss on your freezing lips.
He looked freshly showered and so soft you wanted to climb inside his body. He smelled wonderfully too.
As soon as your eyes landed on him, you were no longer hungry.
Well, at least not for actual food.
You couldn't wait to be tangled with him under many blankets.
When he asked about your day you didn't answer. You just crashed your lips with his and reveled in the familiar and comforting taste of him.
You started backing him slowly back into the living room and, when he reached the couch, you made him sit down.
You admired the way his damp lips glittered in the soft light coming from the lamp in the corner of the room and the way his big brown sleepy eyes watched you ever so submissively from below.
When you slowly dropped down to your knees between his slightly parted legs, you saw his eyes roll back into his skull as a low growl escaped his throat.
You started caressing his thighs through the fabric covering him and you saw him shiver lightly when you reached for the knot holding the robe closed.
You made quick work of it, uncovering his chest and starting to place little kisses on the expanse of soft smooth skin. Your icy hands travelled lower and he hissed sharply when you touched the warm bare skin of his hips, the contrasting temperatures making goosebumps raise on his body.
You uncovered him completely then, moving your kisses lower onto that soft tummy that you loved so much while your hands rounded around his perfect ass.
He hissed again then and tensed, but relaxed soon after, when your hands started warming, thanks to the heat of his body.
Your kisses moved lower and lower and you made him gasp when you stuck your tongue out and circled his navel, before dipping it inside.
Then, you placed a quick kiss on his hip bone and you bit down harshly, sucking the skin inside your mouth and making him groan again.
You had been purposely neglecting his growing erection, but when his hips rutted up almost imperceptibly, you took pity in him.
Now you were face to face with it. He was absolutely perfect and you knew you would never get tired of him.
You gently took him into your hand and he stiffened even more. You both sighed, contentedly. You knew that the feeling of his weight growing in your hand and on your tongue would cure your upset. It always did.
“God, please, baby yes” he muttered, sounding already on the verge.
You started stroking him gently and seductively.
“Did you take care of yourself today, baby?” You asked him as your lips started kissing, nibbling and leaving marks on the inside of his thighs.
Surprisingly he shook his head.
“I didn't. I was waiting for you. Actually I kind of edged myself all day” he confessed, already out of breath.
“You know I love when you take care of this beautiful cock of yours when I'm not here to do so, but fuck it if I don't love the idea of you edging yourself because you wanted to wait for me.” You whispered on his damp skin, making him shiver again as your grip tightened slightly around his erection.
“I know, but I missed your touch so much that nothing compares” He confessed, moaning lowly as your tongue dragged up and down the underside of him from base to tip to base again, in one slow broad lick.
Your hands stroked his hips again and you thought you felt something in one of his pockets.
You were about to reach inside to discover what it was but he begged for your mouth , blushing a little.
“I need your mouth, angel” he whimpered, sounding desperate.
You nuzzled your nose against the warm skin of his balls, making him close his eyes and whimper.
Unexpectedly, you started stroking him with purpose, making him grit his teeth and pant at your sudden change of pace.
You even added the little twist to the tip that he loved so much, gaining a pained groan from him.
You placed his wet tip between your lips and gave him a light suck before plunging him to the back of your throat without warning while kneading his balls gently between your fingers.
That action made him almost lose it completely but he recovered, biting his bottom lip with force and clawing at the couch.
His back arched as your throat constricted around his length and his movement caused something to finally slip out of his pocket.
Lube.
You slowed down your rhythm but kept your mouth on him, arching an eyebrow and silently asking him for an explanation.
And he couldn't stop himself from confessing.
“Since you were late, I wanted to try something. I was ready to turn on the TV on some suggestive video and edge myself until you came home.” He whispered, averting his eyes from yours, embarrassed.
You gently removed your mouth from him and sat back at his confession.
An idea slowly slithered inside your mind.
“Go on then, baby. Show me what you had in mind” you winked at him, tossing him the lube and making him curse.
“Really?” He asked, a little annoyed about your change of heart.
“Hm-hm” you nodded and sat back to enjoy the show.
You watched him closely as he placed a generous amount of lube onto his hands and warmed it a little.
Then he wrapped a hand around himself and started stroking his cock slowly, groaning and whimpering every now and then.
Just when you saw his body tense and you knew he was almost ready to let go, you spoke, ordering him to stop and remove his hand from himself completely.
“Stop, Jakey” you said. Your authoritative tone made him almost jump.
His eyes shot open in shock, as if in reality he forgot you were there and didn't enjoy your little teasing game.
But you knew better. He was the one who taught you that edging, and consequently being edged, was one of his favorite things. Ever.
You had learned that at your expense way too many times.
“Baby, pleaseee. I need it so bad.” He begged you, pouting adorably and hitching to wrap his hand around himself once more to finish what you had started.
He looked at you with a pained expression and with his rosy lips wet and parted as he panted, but obeyed nonetheless.
“First, you have to tell me what's inside your other pocket.” You went on, sounding incredibly serious.
His eyes widened in utter panic and he blushed the deepest shade of red you had ever seen.
Then, he cursed himself out loud for even thinking he could outsmart you and get away with it.
He knew he was in trouble. And the more he waited to finally show you the content of his pocket, the more you were going to punish him for even thinking he could get away with it.
Even though he knew that, he couldn't even bring himself to say it out loud but after a few agitated minutes in which his heart threatened to jump out of his chest, he finally relented.
You followed the slow path of his hand from the couch to inside his pocket with bated breath.
You saw him grab something in there.
Then his eyes fluttered closed, he took a deep breath, muttered a low “oh my god” and then removed his hand from there, finally showing you what he had been hiding from you.
You gasped.
You really didn't expect that.
His cheeks were ablaze. He was covering his eyes with his bent arm as he placed the object on the sofa for you to see and, immediately, removed his hand from it as if he had been burned.
You didn't know what to say.
You recognised it.
It was the vibrating dildo he had once discovered inside your nightstand drawer at the early stages of your relationship.
You had been so embarrassed that night but he, being the gentleman that he was, had brushed it off like it wasn't a big deal. He had even told you he was happy you took care of yourself properly.
You had almost forgotten about it until one night.
You were grasping the sheets for dear life as Jake was railing you from behind.
Sometimes he was the most careful and gentle lover, but other times he treated you like a filthy whore.
That night was one of those times.
And you were loving every second of it.
But suddenly you had felt him move and you had jolted forward in utter shock when you felt something wet and slightly vibrating circle your back entrance.
“Shh, angel.” He reassured you as he kept thrusting into you, “it's just your pretty little toy. It was a bit jealous. It wanted to say hi to your pretty ass as I take care of your sweet pink pussy.” You moaned at his words and started pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts.
“Are you ok with this?” He whispered into your ear from behind, dragging the vibrating toy up and then down your spine, making you shiver, while keeping his thrusts steady but gentle.
You quickly nodded, you needed it so bad.
It wasn't the first time you two indulged in such depraved activities.
To be fair, one night you'd had one too many drinks and you had confessed to him you wanted to try double penetration but since then he had never acted upon it.
He must have thought you weren't paying enough attention to his question because he stopped abruptly and bent his entire body over yours.
The contact with his hot skin made you shiver and moan.
His lips quickly found your ear and his voice, sweet and raspy, made goosebumps raise on your skin.
“Are you really ok with me doing this?” He said gently while pushing strands of your hair out of your eyes to better see your face.
The more you thought about it, the more you couldn't wait for him to do that.
You shivered in anticipation and kissed him passionately.
“Please, Jake, yes” You said, involuntarily clenching around him and making him groan.
You felt the distinct sound of him getting the toy ready for you with copious amounts of lube and then you tried your best to relax.
The feeling of the lightly-vibrating toy sliding inside of your back entrance while Jake kept his hard, flushed cock inside your pussy was something you had never experienced.
You felt so deliciously full you couldn't think straight.
When he started gently moving his hips while keeping the toy still inside of you, you couldn't stop your mouth from hanging open, making you drool all over the sheets.
The sounds that started leaving your mouth were delirious and unbridled when he started pulling the toy slightly out and then back again, picking up the pace.
But you reached the point of no return when he coordinated his thrusts with the toy and increased the speed of the vibrations.
“God, fuck, I can feel it vibrating through your walls, angel. It feels so fucking good.” he groaned on the verge of exploding.
Your brain shut down completely when he increased it at maximum level and you came, making an absolute mess all over the sheets and dragging him with you in a matter of seconds.
Those were the thoughts that crossed your mind when you saw that toy, but you were brought right back to the task at hand when a pained whisper reached your ears.
“Please, just say something” he whispered, still refusing to look you in the eyes.
Your hands immediately found his hips, giving his soft flushed skin a gentle squeeze to try and ease the tension in his body.
The embarrassment had caused him to lose his excitement completely.
As your hands massaged his hips, thighs and back, you felt him relax again.
You skimmed your lips on his soft tummy and started to nibble at the skin of his hipbone, while wrapping a loose hand around his now soft cock.
He mewled a little and sunk further into the sofa.
“It's ok baby, don't be embarrassed. May I ask you what exactly you had in mind?” you asked him, keeping a gentle rhythm on him and circling your tongue around his head.
With a shaky intake of breath he started speaking.
“One night we were staying in a hotel somewhere and there was no way I could sleep. I was so tired but I just couldn't. I didn't want to bother you so I just started messing around with my phone. I ended up on an adult website and…fuck, baby just like that.”
You had successfully derailed his train of thoughts by sucking gently on his tip, tasting his sweet precum.
But the distraction was short-lived.
You needed to know more.
“And?” You pressed him to continue.
“And I randomly chose a video to watch and touch myself to. But when I scrolled down I ended up on a video about…this” he said, pointing to the toy that laid there abandoned on the couch.
He knew you wanted more, so after a few seconds, he went on.
“Fuck, I still get so hard thinking about it. In the video there was a woman penetrating her man with one of this things and he sounded like it was the best thing he had ever had. It looked and sounded like she was ripping the soul from his body. And damn it if I didn't want to try it. It made me cum so hard and so quick I was so embarrassed. I felt so ashamed but I couldn't stop watching it. I wanted to finally try this when you arrived earlier.” he confessed with his cheeks ablaze.
You had completely stilled your hand and mouth on him. You felt incredibly overwhelmed by his words and your brain was having a hard time concentrating.
You two weren't new to that kind of fun either.
It all started the night after a delicious wine-tasting event. The two of you were pleasantly tipsy and you couldn't take your hands off each other as soon as you got home
You were on the couch, clothes already scattered all over the floor and your hands were wandering on each other's bodies. Yours had taken residence on his perfect perky ass and you were kneading the muscles in your hands, making him groan and whimper.
Suddenly your hand slipped and your fingers made contact with his back entrance causing him to whimper and moan your name.
You had frozen after that, looking him in the eyes completely lost in his reaction.
Right there, with a little smirk on his upturned mouth and his eyes glittering from wine and arousal, he wrapped a hand around your wrist and brought two of your fingers to his lips, sucking on them sloppily. Then he dragged them down to repeat the motion that had him moaning over and over again until you were knuckle deep inside of him and he was a whimpering mess.
Maybe your fingers weren't enough anymore and he needed more.
And you were going to give him anything and everything he ever wanted.
He noticed you were lost in your head and his gentle touch on your lips brought you back to the task at hand.
You wrapped your lips around his thumb, sucking lightly, and then letting it drop from your mouth.
You met his eyes and your heartbeat sped up considerably.
He looked so needy and fucked-out already. Delicate and delicious.
“Did you want to try this all alone?” You asked him pouting slightly because he hadn't told you he wanted to try that before.
“Yeah, sorry. I didn't… I guess I didn't know how to bring this up. I can't even say it to be honest” He confessed sheepishly.
“Really? You didn't know how to tell me you wanted me to fuck you in the ass with this bad boy here?” You told him patting the silicone at his side and making him groan out loud at you choice of words.
“Fucking hell baby. You are torturing me. Don't stop.” He said in a pained tone and you winked at him.
“Did you edge yourself with it before I arrived and interrupted you?” you asked then, in a sliver of voice.
He nodded, biting his lower lip, embarrassed.
“Well, Jakey, why don't you show me then? I'd like to watch you have some fun with our little friend here.” You whispered, sensual and dirty, handing him the dildo and the lube and then making yourself comfortable on a cushion on the floor, right in front of his spread legs.
His breath hitched in his throat as he saw you there watching and admiring him like that.
Yours was just a façade. You appeared to him absolutely calm and collected, but internally you were exploding and fighting the urge to jump his bones and destroy him with that toy.
The moment he switched the toy on at the minimum speed, you imperceptibly jumped and bit your tongue to stop yourself from moaning when you saw his hard cock twitch against his flushed tummy.
Your eyes followed his every move with bated breath as he drenched the toy with lube. You watched as he angled his erection upwards with the thumb of his free hand and brushed the tip of the vibrating toy against his flushed head.
A whimper left his lips.
Then he started circling the toy around his tip, focusing on the little spot right under the head and his toes curled at the sensation.
You were going to implode.
He started caressing his shaft with it, up and down, up and down, panting heavily, first just with the tip of the toy and then grabbing the length of it and placing it flush against his member. .
He almost screamed when he prodded the toy against his full tensed balls and you felt your arousal absolutely drench your panties at the sight.
He was about to drag the toy further down but he stopped abruptly, blushing furiously and abandoning it on the couch with a pained groan.
His brain was taking over, making him feel ashamed for what he was doing.
The moment he made eye contact with you, you knelt on the cold floor and crawled towards him.
You closed the distance between the two of you and sat on the sofa at his side, kissing him and stealing his breath away.
“Relax Jakey, let me take care of you” you whispered on his lips and he sighed.
You slipped back on the ground and took him in your hand and then in your mouth, the warmth of it making him hiss.
Your rhythm was slow on his dick and it was making him go crazy.
After a while, when finally he had managed to relax again, you grasped his hand and placed it on the toy that was still humming lightly at his side.
His eyes met yours questioningly but you just nodded and hummed approvingly when he took the toy in his hand.
You placed his hand between his legs and made him almost double over in pleasure when you gently made him press the silicone tip against his taint while keeping your mouth on him.
The scream that echoed into the room was heavenly.
You wanted to hear it again.
You pressed his hand with the toy with a bit more intention there and he cursed, his body tensing.
At that moment your hand slipped further down and you made him push the toy right against his hole, eliciting from him a low moan that made a shiver run down your spine.
You removed both the toy and your mouth from him and he cursed and pleaded with you to just touch him again.
He was about to take the matter into his own hands when you bit on the inside of his thigh to stop him.
Then, while maintaining eye contact with him you licked a broad stripe on the underside of his balls and you pressed your pointed tongue right against his taint and further down, rimming his fluttering hole over and over again while your eyes burned into his.
His eyes rolled back and you chuckled. You loved teasing him like that.
“Holy shit, angel!” He whimpered and clawed at the couch as your tongue kept licking at his entrance with different kinds of pressure.
When, abruptly, you stopped he started begging you, immediately.
“Please, baby, pleasepleaseplease, just fuck me already I can't take it anymore” he slurred, out of breath.
But you were feeling cruel and you didn't want to give in just yet. You wanted to play with him and you were sure he was going to love every second of it.
You removed your mouth from him and he shivered when you started whispering against the sweaty skin of his hip.
“Now, my sweet good boy, would you like to play a game with me?” You said while skimming your lips from his hip to the underside of his cock.
You knew he was going to agree to everything you suggested. He was always down for this kind of games.
“Fuck yes, I do” he answered, closing his eyes and relaxing back.
“I am going to give you everything you want over and over and over again, but on one condition.” You stopped talking until his eyes were open and focused on yours.
When you knew he was looking at you, you started caressing the outside of his muscular thighs, reveling in the way the muscles jumped under your delicate touch while maintaining a devilish eyecontact.
When you reached his knees, you let your hands wrap around them and you pushed them upwards until he was deliciously spread open for you with his bent legs close to his face.
“Keep these beautiful legs of yours spread open for me and wrap your hands around your knees, Jakey. Oh, and hold on tight because if you take them off I'm going to stop and you'll go to bed with blue balls. Understood?” You deadpanned and he knew you meant business.
“Fuck me. Yes, I understand.” He whimpered as your hands caressed the back of his thighs and pressed them further apart.
“Are you ok with this, Jake?” You whispered and he started nodding and saying yes even before you had finished the sentence.
You chuckled but he interrupted you, sounding already on the verge
“I'm beyond the point of no return. I think I may go crazy if you don't just fuck me already.” He confessed spreading himself even further for you.
You delved right in then, skimming your tongue against his entrance and wrapping a tight hand around his leaking cock.
You loved feeling him flutter under the steady licks of your tongue.
When you knew he was relaxed and ready, you stopped stroking him, you let a few drops of lube fall on your fingers and started pushing one inside him, making his scream in pleasure.
“Please, another” he groaned when the first wasn't even fully inside of him yet but you didn't even think twice before giving him exactly what he was asking for.
Soon a third finger joined the other two and you couldn't take your eyes off from where his body was rhythmically swallowing and enveloping your fingers into its warmth.
That image would be engraved in your brain forever, you were sure of it.
He was being such a good boy that you wanted to reward him, so you slightly curled your fingers upwards, making him exhale a high-pitched moan as you easily found his special spot.
“Now I'm going to use the toy, Jakey” you whispered, gently removing your fingers from him and he nodded, struggling to keep his eyes open.
You grabbed the toy you had previously switched off and drenched it one last time with lube.
You circled the tip of it around his hole and Jake whined when you turned the light vibrations on.
You kept teasing him like that for a few minutes before he begged you again to just push the toy in to the hilt. He was desperate.
As you pressed the toy a few inches inside of him he moaned your name, relieved, and arched his back trying to push it in further.
“Please, push it all the way inside. I need it so bad.” He whispered and you obeyed, watching him shiver and arch his back in pleasure as the toy penetrated him deeper and deeper. Watching his toes curl in your peripheral vision was having the worst effect on you, making you moan.
As you kept the toy inside of him you took the opportunity to observe him closely.
He had slipped further down the sofa and was now laying with his back almost all the way on the seat of the couch with his head bent against the back cushion.
He had trapped his hands in the crease behind his spread knees to prevent himself from letting them go and disobeying you.
He was panting heavily, his lips were reddened and sleek with saliva and swollen from the constant biting.
His neck and his heaving chest were covered in sweat, making his skin glitter.
His long hair was completed damp with sweat and strands of it were plastered all over his cheeks and collarbone.
You couldn't help yourself.
You bent over him and kissed him intensely. His tongue wasn't fighting for dominance, like it usually was. He was granting you total control on his body, and you were about to reward him.
As you kept your eyes planted on his face, you started pulling the toy out of him and you saw his face scrunch up and then relax again when you pushed the toy back in.
You repeated the motion again and again, angling the toy so it would massage his special spot and he started whimpering lowly every time it did.
The need to see him unravel completely by your hand was increasing in your chest so you quickened your rhythm, bending to whisper into his ear.
“You better hold on tight, baby, ‘cause I'm about to fucking ruin you.” you hissed in his ear and began moving the toy at a punishing rhythm. That caused his back to arch violently from the couch and a string of curses left his mouth.
“Oh fuck me, angel, just like this, oh my god. Yes fuuuck, right there” He moaned out loud with his eyes squeezed shut as a sequence of particular harsh thrusts hit his prostate in rapid succession.
His eyes snapped open and he cursed loudly when you sucked his balls into your mouth. You started massaging them delicately with your tongue, making him almost scream, while his cock, rock hard and leaking, laid twitching but still neglected on his sweaty tummy.
Your arm started cramping with the unforgiving rhythm you were using to fuck the toy inside of him but you didn't plan on stopping until he was coming harder than he ever had.
With your other unoccupied hand, you were grasping his hip so strongly you were sure you were leaving marks there. You couldn't wait to see his bruises there and remind him who he belonged to.
A particularly intense suction on his full balls paired with the harsh punching his prostate was enduring were what sealed his fate.
He held his breath and you knew he was about to unravel.
When finally he reached the point of no return, it looked as if he had completely lost control over his body. His head started thrashing around and a prolonged scream left his lips.
Ropes of cum covered the sweaty skin of his chest, creating a beautiful painting. Some drops of it even landed on his neck, chin and lips since he was still pretty much folded in half.
The intensity of his orgasm made him dig his nails so hard into the delicate skin behind his knees that he ended up scratching himself.
You kept your eyes peeled on him, admiring him in all his naked glory as his chest heaved and his mouth dropped open in the throes of utmost pleasure, before he started to finally calm down.
You slowed down the thrusts of the dildo and bent over him again. You licked away the drops of cum still on his lips and kissed him, making him taste himself on your tongue and groan.
You were about to remove the toy from inside of him and pamper him with a nice hot bath when you noticed something.
He was still very much hard and you wanted to prolong his pleasure, since he had obeyed your orders so diligently.
You were about to make him remember that night forever.
A loud hoarse curse echoed in the room as you angled the vibrator upwards and put it at maximum speed moving it gently against his prostate without thrusting too harshly.
Then, to maximise his pleasure, you plunged him down your throat while one of your hands gently massaged and squeezed his balls.
He was completely gone in an instant, babbling and moaning unintelligible words that sounded very much like a mix of curses and your name.
You hadn't noticed that he had removed his hands from his knees until you felt one of them bury in your hair.
His grip got progressively harsher on you but you were loving it.
At one point his thighs snapped closed, trapping your face between his legs and muffling the beautiful sounds he was making.
His back arched abruptly and his other hand gripped the back of the couch in an iron grip as his mouth dropped open in a scream so loud it was absolutely impossible that your neighbours didn't hear it.
You felt him twitch in your mouth and, immediately after, he spurted his warm release down your throat. His body twitched and shook and his chest heaved like he had just finished a marathon. He was so beautiful you wished your eyes could take pictures.
An indefinite amount of time had passed when finally he relaxed the grip of his thighs from your face and of his hand from your scalp.
You clearly saw some of your ripped hair hanging between his fingers when he moved his hand from your head, but you didn't care. You were ready to do that all over again as soon as he asked you to.
He couldn't keep his eyes open and he was having a hard time calming his heartbeat and breathing.
You removed your mouth from around him and he shivered but still he was a sight to behold.
His hair was completely damp with sweat and clinging onto his forehead, cheeks and neck.
Little rivulets of sweat adorned his chest and strings of pearlescent cum decorated his tummy chest and collarbone from his previous orgasm.
He had the most relaxed and blissed-out face you had ever seen with his rosy tortured lips slightly parted and his eyes closed.
But still he wasn't talking.
You started to worry. He was about to slip entirely off the couch so you tried to call his name, but he just mumbled in response, without opening his eyes
You tried to keep him from falling, but with your sore knees and arms you couldn't and, at some point, he fell dragging you down with him and landing with his head on your chest.
You chuckled at his expenses. You had never seen him so fucked-out.
“Jakey?” You whispered after a few minutes, caressing his hair.
“Hmhm” he grumbled in a sliver of voice.
“Are you ok?” You asked him, moving your hand gently down his spine.
“Yeah” he whispered, but he didn't move.
You two laid there a bit more reveling in eachother's presence until you felt him shiver.
“Jake?” You whispered again.
“Yeah?” He answered this time, sounding almost asleep.
“We should take a nice hot bath, what do you think?” You suggested, trying to sit up but failing miserably.
“No” he said, the pout evident in his tone.
“C'mon, we can sleep afterwards” you tried to convince him.
After a little more persuasion and a few giggles from your part, he finally relented and you managed to make him roll off of you. Getting him up wasn't exactly easy, since his legs were shaking with the aftermath of your devilish ministrations.
When finally the two of you were pleasantly immersed in hot water and he was laying with his back against your chest, you started washing the sweat and remnants of that crazy evening off his spent body.
“Are you ok?” You finally asked while you rinsed his hair one last time.
He didn't answer you.
Instead he turned around in the tub and kissed you deeply, caressing your body gently but passionately with his calloused fingers.
Then swiftly, he grabbed your hips and pushed you out of the tub, making you sit on the edge of it with your back against the cold wall and your legs spread open in front of his face.
You gasped and grabbed at his shoulder to steady yourself while you observed him astonished.
You were about to speak but he stopped you, placing a wet finger against your parted lips.
“Remember, angel, the one who laughs last laughs best” he whispered, bringing his mouth closer and closer to your heath.
He was going to get his revenge, and you were absolutely ready for it.
____________________________________
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kneelingshadowsalome · 2 months
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so, i’m currently taking a west civics class in college, and i am currently researching ancient greek civilizations, most notably, the arts and culture of ancient greece. i know you have written a fic based on its mythological stories, with minotaur könig (bless your beautiful soul).
but through my readings, i couldn’t help but come up with such a dirty daydreams while in class. i couldn’t stop myself from thinking about könig and… the ancient olympics…
i know, realistically speaking, women were not allowed to attend or watch these games for the most part. so, in a universe where könig’s dedication not only falls upon him being a top man, but being the perfect man in honor of being recognized by the god of strength himself, he becomes so enticing in the way he trains and readies himself for such a significant event of his life. he’s never really had much to care for, neither does he need to prioritize anything that isn’t him or his training. he’s a workhorse, nothing stopping him from being the best, most valuable follower of zeus. that is… until…
well, it was your fault, and you admit that, but he wasn’t stopping you either. i mean, who could blame you, this little thing sneaking and peeping at a man who’s at work in order to provide to cute women like yourself. in fact, you argue that this was your way of appreciating a man, to observe them in their element in such a loving gaze. it didn’t help that könig was a man who preferred to train naked too, in all his glory, so of course there was no missing you, you were just too obvious for a man like him to notice you.
and with every grunt he’d give after each swing of a fist or a blade, a mew is what you’d give in return, your own form of a cheer for him to keep going. and you promised you didn’t mean to stare and make distracting noises, but an innocent maiden like yourself was just too hypnotized by this new anatomy that was found between this man’s legs. so outspoken, so dirty for your mouth to spew such beautiful filth to a stranger.
was this könig’s new test of endurance? part of the program to make him stronger for the olympic event that was just around the corner. he has heard man advising others to refrain from sex before the games, but he hadn’t even been given the chance to work on that since no one was bold enough to approach him like you did. he wonders, does fucking before a game really make a man weak, does thinking about shoving his big dumb cock in his soon-to-be wife distract him too much to succeed? perhaps, perhaps not, one thing he does know though, he’s got someone else to honor and worship, which makes his training all the more necessary.
Oh my god….. I’m totes not getting caught up in the fact that women were not allowed to participate in these activities….
This led me to think, what if some misbehaving little creature decided to peep at this Hercules reborn? She gets caught one day, but because she’s absolutely carefree and unhinged, she asks König if he could show her how to train.
CW: Nudity, implied sexism/misogyny (Ancient Greek society thang), teasing König to the point where he gets a boner and growls
Our Olympian hero gets so confused that he forgets he was supposed to report you or throw you out of the gym. Outside, where birds fly free and the sun tortures the trainees, he has picked a spot where he can train in solitude and silence: for some reason, other people’s stares make him uncomfortable… Until this curious, sweet little nymph came around, perched atop a wide rock, munching some wild mountain herb as she watched him train.
He allowed her to watch him train for two days, but on the third, he marched over to her and told her she needs to leave. Women are not allowed here, doesn’t she know that? Where are her parents? Does she have a husband?
No, no husband, and her parents don’t really care what she does. Well, this explains why she’s behaving this way. Running around the hillside so untame, watching men train—can’t she see she’s putting herself in danger? Any one of these men could decide to just take her on the barren land if she’s not careful.
She just giggles and asks, would he like to take her? Then points out that men shouldn’t waste their seed before a big competition. Also, Zeus’s wife would not think well of him if she saw him rut innocent women on the hill... There’s nothing but heaven above them, surely someone would see. The gods could curse him with a weak ankle, or a sprained muscle, a failing heart or a snake bite…
“All right, all right, that’s enough,” he says, but there’s even worse to come.
Next, she asks if he could show her how to lift those smaller rocks, how to throw a javelin or a discus. Could he teach her how to wrestle…?
“Absolutely not,” he scoffs while his groin floods with warmth at the thought of wrestling with this pretty, wonton woman. She’s absolutely disgraceful, and yet, he doubts she’s running from man to man, teasing them to death. She’s not begging to get raped, she’s just… a little gullible, or something. Happened to take interest in him, little thing. As she should, after all, he’s the pride of this city...
“You fear I’ll become better than you?” She asks with little stars in her stare.
“Bah. Don’t be ridiculous...”
They’re both smiling, now. This kind of banter and games he has never experienced with a lady, she’s making him extremely uncomfortable and at the same time, fly high like Icarus. He’ll have to be careful he doesn’t get burned…
When he still refuses to show her how to train, she shrugs and goes over to the wooden javelin that’s taller than her. Picking it up, he expects the gods to smite her down with a sudden hail or thunder, but nothing happens. The sun keeps on shining, and the sheep keep on baaing. She weighs it with two hands, then starts to look for a spot to try and throw it.
“Wait,” he calls after her, but she only looks back at him with a smile. Picks off to run, with the javelin securely in her right hand, she runs like a deer while he lumbers after her, completely perplexed.
Insufferable woman… He’s growing hard from the cock as he runs, somehow aroused by this silly chase. Like Apollo trying to court Daphne, but his Daphne is not meek and unwilling; she’s giggling as he huffs and runs after her like a stumbling giant.
At a distant field of nothing but rock and weather-beaten flowers, she stops. Shields her eyes as she looks for a perfect spot, she’s not even breathless when he finally catches her. She turns around to look at her hero, catching his breath in the sun.
“You’re not fit enough for a marathon,” she comments. “Did you lift too many weights?”
“Give me the javelin,” he pants, dismissing her blunt analysis of his weaknesses. Stepping towards her, he extends his hand, offering her a chance to return it to him without fuss.
“Wrestle it from me,” she smiles, so playfully and brightly that his cock suffers another throb.
Gods damn this woman... She’s toying, playing with him, teasing him to the point where he’s left no choice.
He doesn’t want to hurt her, which means the “wrestling” becomes an awkward battle of snickers and limbs. His cock gets in the way, and to an outsider, this might look like a scene of an oddly gentle, upcoming rape… This little minx is giving him such an ache in his head and his loins that he’s gritting his teeth by the time he gets his hands around the wooden spear. By then, she has her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms above her head as she’s lying on her back with him on top of her.
“I’m not letting go,” she laughs as they both hold the spear, his erection now blissfully trapped between her legs.
“Who sent you,” he grunts, head spinning as he tries to figure out which of the gods is trying to give him trouble this time.
“What do you mean…?”
“You’re here to thwart and tease me. Tell me who sent you, now.”
“You think I’m sent by some angry god?”
Her eyes sparkle even more, if possible. She even giggles under him and under the sun, her laugh like a thousand little bells in his ears.
“That’s so cute…!”
His grunts turn into a hollow, painful growl – even Tartaros is better than this.
“Train me, and I’ll let you have your silly javelin,” she smiles, even licking her lips before they purse together innocently.
But he knows she’s far from innocent. She has to be a curse of some sort, a plight sent here to torment him, because he finds himself sighing, “Alright…”
He gives her one condition: she has to wear clothes; no flaunting herself around him and especially not around the other men if they were to ever see her. They will both get flogged or worse if this mockery comes to daylight… She gives him a soft, adoring smile this time, and says of course, whatever he says.
The next day, she’s waiting for him at the training grounds, javelin in her hands…
Completely, utterly naked.
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dumplingsfordays · 8 months
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tutoring sessions
Dan Heng x fem!reader
genre - smut
summary - your tutor (and friend) gets a little hot under the collar after you tease him, and things escalate a little (by a little I mean a lot).
cw!: nsfw (sexual themes), friends to (implied) partners, oral (dan heng receiving), praise, virgin!reader, virgin!dan heng, all characters 18+, kinda subby dan heng (he's also very vocal hehe), voyeurism kinda, reader is referred to as 'good/pretty girl' but that's really it for gendered language, implied that dan heng's still v thirsty for reader once the fic ends 👀
note - this is my first smut fic so I'm sorry if this is badly written 😭😭 dan heng might be a little ooc but I'll just roll w it... I was working on a fluff version of this but I accidentally posted the draft and I couldn't un-post it so I'm crying rn it was so long too-
and as always, thank you for reading :)
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
"And today's topic..." the raven-haired man flips to a page in the calculus textbook that he's holding, "is mathematical induction."
"That sounds super hard!" you sigh playfully. "Can we please do something else?"
"Sum and product identities?"
"No!"
"How about-" he flips further, "-sigma notation?"
"Also sounds super hard."
"But it isn't."
"You say that everytime!"
"We do have to start somewhere, though," he remarks with a small smile.
For a split second, you remember where this whole thing actually started. Ah yes, your room, six months ago... when your parents hired him and you came downstairs to find a complete stranger your age sitting at the dinner table. You remember being confused about what classes you shared with him - he did seem familiar in a way, so you just assumed that you had some shared classes. Back then, he was very quiet, very low-profile, and look at him now! Talkative, compassionate, cheeky (only sometimes), kind... if you really excelled in English class, then you might've called him a bloomed flower or something else of the sort. He looks so different now, though - you don't know if it's the chill of the night air that's trickling through the open window by your desk, or the soft, mellow glow of the fairy lights strung up around your room, or if it's just your stupidly big crush on him... it's probably the latter, now that you think about it.
"Well, I don't want to start anything." You lean back in your chair and close your eyes, relishing in the way that you can practically feel his mock-disappointed gaze on you.
"I guess we'll end the sessions here then," he sighs. You weren't sure if he was kidding or not - something about his tone hinted that he wasn't, so, not really thinking it through, you spring back forward to the table and cup your face in your hands with your elbows on your desk. You look up at him in desperation.
"There's no need to do that," you pout, "I just don't feel like doing anything, you know?"
"Come on, let's just finish at least one lesson today," Dan Heng urges, leaning in a little as he does. He smiles encouragingly and pats your back, but you're still not planning on giving in to the agony of work.
"Why do we have to do that, though?" you whine, now folding your arms on your desk and laying your head down on them. It's now his turn to lean back in his chair.
"Okay, so what are you lacking in right now?" he asks, running a hand through his hair to get some wild strands out of his eyes. "Why don't you want to do anything today?" You hate yourself for the fact that you felt your face redden at his action.
"Lack motivation, probably," you bury your face in your arms now, trying to hide the prominent blush on your cheeks.
You hear him hum - a low, pleasant sound. "Motivation..."
As you hear seconds tick by on the clock across the room, your heartbeat calms down and just as you're sure that the redness covering your face and the tips of your ears has faded-
"Just be a good girl and if we get through at least one topic tonight, you'll get a reward. Is that good enough motivation for you?"
You tremble at his voice. It's persuasive and smooth and deep and makes something deep inside of your stomach flutter - was he messing with you? Did he know about you having a crush on him and was teasing you?
You tilt your head to look at him and instantly regret it. He's leaning in so much that you can feel small breaths of air escaping him as he breathes, his eyes trained on yours.
Then he leans back again and smiles, still keeping eye contact, while you, wide-eyed, bewildered, gawk at him.
"Just kidding." The audacity to say that! After you thought that he was flirting and actually took it seriously! Oh, you just had to get revenge.
"No, no, I'll do it," you raise your brows in defiance, a cheeky smile dancing on your lips. "I'll be a good girl."
This does him in. Now he's the blubbering fool, mouth opening and closing like a fish's, trying to process what you said. The fact that you could make Dan Heng, the least expressive person you've ever met, turn into a tomato from just a simple sentence was extremely satisfying.
"You don't have to," he stammers. In a few quick movements he's back at the table, arms folded in his lap. You notice that they're not relaxed, no, his hands are balled up into white-knuckled fists - should you really keep on teasing?
Immediately, you decide that yes, you should.
"But I want to."
For a split second you think that you heard something, maybe a faint meow from a stray cat or a little creak of the walls, but then you realize that the sound came from a much closer origin. Dan Heng, at this point, is tense all over - you can see his jaw clench and his fists growing tighter, nails probably leaving small white crescents in his skin. He's doubled over, too, like he has a stomachache. At this, you immediately feel regret, and all the seductiveness and sass from your voice vanishes in an instant, replaced with concern.
"You okay?"
"Yes," he says, still avoiding eye contact, "Yes, I'm good- can I just go to the bathroom for a sec?"
"Are you..?" You trail off, scared to finish your sentence at the possible implications. He swallows thickly and stands up, trying his best to cover his problem with his shirt, and just as he's about to exit your room-
"You can stay, if you want to..."
He slowly turns his head around, totally stunned at your words.
"I mean," you babble nervously, "my parents are still home, and there's a chance that they'll see your- um, friend, and..."
Before you can internally slap yourself for letting your mouth run like a river, he swivels around fully and his hand leaves the doorknob.
"You're sure?" he whispers.
"Only if you are," you reply, looking directly into his eyes, and Dan Heng awkwardly trudges back over to sit beside you on your bed, a blush dusting his face.
"I don't really know how to start," he admits, "I've never really... you know."
"Me neither," you reply with a nervous chuckle, trying to make light of the situation. "I mean, if you're up to it, I guess we can start with, um, kissing, or something..."
As if on cue, he leans towards you, cupping your cheek in his hand, and your eyes close as your lips touch.
It's your first kiss, too, so you don't really have anything to go off of, but this kiss makes your knees weak and you press your hands against his broad chest, seeking stability. He wraps his other hand around your waist at this action and as the kiss deepens, his lips travel down your jaw and to your neck, eventually coming to rest on your collarbone, where he plants another kiss and leans further into your touch.
You, meanwhile, reach for the tent in his sweatpants and start to rub it though the fabric, eliciting a whine from the larger man. He bucks up into your palm, desperate for more friction, and raises his lips to the shell of your ear, whimpering and quietly gasping in overwhelming pleasure. His large hands finally settle on your waist and his fingers dig into your skin as you continue your ministrations and smile into his shoulder.
"Please," he begs softly, "need to feel you 'round me."
He didn't need to tell you twice as you immediately get the hint and drop down to your knees in front of him. You hook a finger over the band of his sweatpants, tugging at it while looking up at Dan Heng with pleading, wide eyes.
He mutters an expletive when he lifts his hips up, cheeks reddening every second that passes, and as the clothes pool around his ankles, you can see the outline of his thick cock through the material of his boxers.
You decide to tease him (again, and you will never get tired of it because his reactions are way too cute to stop) and glide your fingers over the bulge, at which he squirms, but doesn't dare to take his eyes off of yours.
His hips rise again, and another article of clothing is shed, but this time his lower half is completely naked, so you finally get to see what he's been packing in there.
It's gorgeous compared to the ones that you've seen online. It's standing at attention, slightly twitching whenever your hot breath meets the tip. Dan Heng sees your eyes widen and swallows nervously as you subconsciously lick your lips.
"Is it not...?" he trails off, eyebrows furrowed.
You shake your head, still mesmerized. "No, no, it's very pretty."
He whines when you lean closer to it, eventually bringing it to rest against your cheek. You look up at the man as your hand wraps around its base and you hum at how warm it is.
"You ready?" you ask. You're rubbing your thighs together at this point - his half-lidded eyes, red, swollen lips parted in a sigh, and cheeks dusted with pink elicit a reaction from you like no erotic content ever could.
"Yes- yes, (y/n), please, need you so much, please," he gasps desperately, hands reaching to his sides and grabbing the blanket underneath him. You fulfill his request with a light kiss to the red tip of his now-leaking cock (at which a whimper escapes his lips and he almost bucks up) and take it into your mouth.
His long fingers weave through your hair at the back of your head in an attempt to feel more of you - you then moan, sending delicious vibrations to his cock which throbs in appreciation.
"You're s'warm," Dan Heng hisses through his teeth above you, tears about to fall from his watery eyes, "so, so tight, fuck! Such a good girl f'me, yeah-"
You take more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as his tip hits the back of your throat. Your gag reflex activates and your throat constricts - the raven-haired man above you nearly chokes at the feeling while you drag your lips off of his cock.
"'M sorry," you whisper as you slowly stroke it, feeling it pulse in your soft hands.
"Don't be, that was - ah - felt so good," he pants. "You okay, though?"
"Yeah, 'm all right... can we continue, though?"
"Please."
You stop stroking it and attempt to fit it all in once more, sharp gasps coming from the man above you. You almost reach the base, but his tip prods against the back of your throat so you have no choice but to suck it, bobbing your head up and down on his cock. Rogue specks of your saliva land on it just to pool on your lips as they hungrily come back down his shaft.
He's arching his back from the pleasure, applying a little pressure to your head to guide it in a steady rhythm. His hips start bucking up faster and faster as he gets close to his orgasm - he's shaking his head, screwing shut his eyes as deep, throaty groans are ripped from his chest.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck... doin' so well, pretty girl - ah! - makin' me feel s'good, yeah? 'M gonna cum, baby, just keep - fuck - suckin' me off like that like a good girl, please, fuck, please-"
Eventually he can't take it anymore. His hips are now wildly thrusting up into your mouth, lower abs flexing at the movements, he's panting, drooling, and crying all at the same time - it's so overwhelming and it feels so amazing that he cums with a single, broken moan.
Dan Heng's chest is heaving up and down as he comes down from his high, soothing hand petting your head gently. You attempt to stand, but fail as you topple back onto the ground, laughing.
"Cock so good you can't stand back up?" he teases jokingly, and lends you his hand so he can pull you back up onto the bed.
"Hah, you wish," you smirk back and giggle again. "So, what are we then? Are we still friends, or have we been demoted to student and tutor again?"
His eyes narrow and cloud with lust as an idea pops into his head - you swallow nervously when you meet his darkened gaze. He grabs your wrist and pushes you back, his other hand now greedily kneading your thigh.
"We'll see after I repay you."
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strangersmunsons · 2 months
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💖 Eddie Munson x Reader Fic Recs 💖
I just wanna show some appreciation for a few of my all-time favorite Eddie fics! Here’s a handful of the series & oneshots that have really stuck out to me in all the time I've been reading - there's A TON of great writers on here who have posted really stellar work :^)
List under the cut!
june baby by @luveline - luveline jade u are a celebrity to me. this was the first Eddie story I ever read and it is so beautiful. it's tender. it's melancholy. it's realistic. it's gorgeous. it honestly makes me feel something I've never felt reading any other fanfiction.
oh, baby by @inknopewetrust - another one of my first Eddie fics! the feeling that this series invoked in me is what I aspire to invoke in others for my own writing someday. it's just so sweet and funny and made me nostalgic, in the same way that watching '80s teen films do, except it's even better because Eddie is in this one. I wanted so badly to just dive into the story and really experience it for myself.
hoping I'll find [a glimpse of us] by @inknopewetrust - this smashed my heart into 1000 pieces, and then promptly glued it very sloppily back together and I've reread it like six times just to reinflict the pain. I love rockstar!Eddie stories that maintain some realism about what that type of relationship would look like, and this fic does that SO perfectly. masterclass in angst right here.
dancing with myself by @ambrossart - this one hits close to home! and even though it hurts along the way, there's a happy ending that it builds so nicely towards! it's beautifully paced & the reader is very funny. you can just tell that the her backstory & relationship w/ Eddie was so carefully thought out, it really feels like this was written with so much love! and I LOVE that it doesn't paint Chrissy as a villain.
10 things I hate about you by @spideyanakin - so glad that we all collectively agree that Patrick is Eddie-coded. and in this fic the parallels are there, without Eddie sacrificing his own unique character - that part is handled really beautifully! and the ST characters are worked into the original movie's narrative so well. it's the perfect mix of fluff and drama!
freaky friday by @jo-harrington - I adore this series! I love this version of Eddie so much I could cry, he is so sweet and selfless, I want to give him the entire world. and an Eddie & Steve body swap? 10/10. lindsay and jamie lee, eat your hearts out.
to know you're mine by @blueywrites - oooohboy. I almost didn’t read this one (just because I would normally avoid swinging/cheating in a fic) but I'm so glad I did, because it was like being on the homer's odyssey of 18+ ST fanfiction. it’s wild. bluey girl u were insane for this. and i mean that as an extremely high compliment. i was so damn invested!
i will wait by @abibliophobiaa, @blueywrites, @breddiemunson, @myosotisa, @fracturedarkness - there's three chapters, it's on hiatus, I don't care, I will literally keep reading these three chapters over and over again and just fill in the blanks myself if I must. it's that good. you guys are amazing. I am totally enthralled.
rumor by @msgexymunson - this is what turned me on to older!Eddie. I love him, and I desire him carnally, and specifically this version of him. when I daydream about Eddie sweeping me off my feet, I think about Eddie in this series. he's everything to me. I even wrote my own older neighbor Eddie fic because of this!
trapped under ice by @munson-blurbs - the iron grip this fic had me in...I'm still going back and re-reading my favorite parts. it's beautifully developed. this version of Eddie is so real and believable. Harris is my favorite kid he's ever been given. an all-time, truly, I can't sing its praises enough.
siren!eddie by @parkermunson - a monster-ish Eddie fic! I'm a sucker for anything that incorporates mermaids and sirens and the like, so I really love this concept. it's a great story, I love our protective, doting fishboy, and hope to see more of him!
use me by @reysorigins - simultaneously the nastiest and sweetest fic ever. smut, but it's interspersed with these moments of such deep-seated love and yearning between Eddie and the reader that it made me want to cry! incredible piece.
mine and yours by @muertawrites - ahhhh this one is so so sweet! dating is so fucking hard, I think we could all use a comforting, reassuring moment with a sweetheart like Eddie, who is especially kind to us in this fic. I love the way he’s written here.
our patron saint of the arts by @storiesbyrhi - I love an artsy, crafty reader! I feel like Eddie would be sooo into someone who’s creatively-minded like him. this is the dream relationship, basically, these two are adorable together! (and Eddie in a dress! 😗)
And this is just a sample of what’s out there! Some of these are fics that I read very early on, even before I started this blog. I was more shy then, too, so I feel like I never showed them the appreciation I should have! You guys are all so talented, these works are very inspiring to me.
To readers: I encourage you to let the writers know how much you enjoy their work! Reblog! Leave a comment, even if it’s just in the tags! Write a reply, or send them a message, even if it’s on anon! I’m trying to get better at doing these things myself, too 💖
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Hey 👋🏽!!,
I just want to stop by and say I absolutely love your fics, you capture Daryl so well😍. I was wondering if you could write something where Norman stops by his restaurant in Senoia for a quick meeting and sees the hot new waitress working there and it's lust at first sight🥵😈 .. He has to have her.. They meet up after her shift takes her back to his home and c o m p l e t e l y ruins her 🥴🫠: Blowjob & swallow, NORMAN WHIMPERING 😩🤌🏽 as reader sucks him off, deep fingering, face sitting & squirt, eating out tongue fuck!ng, ROUGH doggie style with a sloppy creampie breeding kink ending 😮‍💨 WHEW LAWD😶‍🌫️🫣, I hope this isn't too off the rails for you 🙃 Below is an aesthetic of what I want female reader and Norman to look like
"The New Girl"
Please and thank you 🙏🏾 🤭
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GIRL. OMFG. THE WAY YOU DID NOT HOLD BACK AT ALL?? LITERALLY CURLING MY TOES PULLING MY HAIR KNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE
I’m actually really scared because this is gonna be my first time ever writing for Norman, or an actor in general, and I’m just nervous for this to come out like super corny or I write him super out of character and it’s like your average fangirl fanfic but tbh we’re just gonna close our eyes, spin around in circles and god willing nothing bad happens
The reader is black, obvs, but it’s written in a way where everyone can still enjoy and squeeze their thighs together, you’ll just be one of us in this story 🎀
Also how did I not know Norman had a restaurant… three actually…
This definitely has a word count of atleast 4k my phone actually started to slow down everytime I opened this
@blackvelveteen1339 I hope I did you justice cause holy fucking hell this was the hottest request EVER ❤️❤️
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THE NEW GIRL
“Are ya' impressed yet?”
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Everyone knows that moving to another place will always be the hardest feature in life, let alone moving to a whole new city in a whole different state.
Senoia was absolutely stunning, with breathtaking views and beach perfect weather. It was totally everything that you had hoped it would be, and so was your little studio apartment, which wasn’t bad at all considering the cozy size, not to mention there were quite a few stores around, also well as the infamous main street.
You sighed, a twinge of sadness. At almost twenty-seven, this would be your first time ever living alone, having lived with your parents for a huge chunk of your life. You were still young and wanted to go out into the big world on your own, and for the longest Georgia had been calling out your name.
Some of your friends and family had discouraged you from going, claiming that it was ridiculous to move so far away from home so carelessly. For a minute, you had even thought so yourself, repeating it over and over again in your head that it wasn’t worth it, or that it was just a dumb dream, and you didn’t even have a path in mind. It was a reckless thing to do, to go into a whole new state with no clue on what you wanted to do with yourself, let alone who you wanted to be.
Yet, here you sat in your new apartment, with nothing but a suitcase, duffel bag and mattress to your name, yes, happier than you’ve ever been but lonely as well. You check your phone, swiping through your notifications before unlocking it, and opening your Instagram.
You had always been a quiet and reserved person with a bit of a wild side, which you kept hidden very well under wraps. Your feed consisted of hair tips, food, traveling, and a little heat. You followed a couple of influencers, mostly your favorite music artists, and actors. There were lots of concerts happening in Atlanta, which you found wasn't far away from Senoia at all. You'd always wanted to see some of your faves in person, but none of them had ever come out to where you used to live. Not to mention, it was expensive. Speaking of expensive, you realized that you would need to start looking for a job sooner or later if you wanted to keep your studio.
Luckily you had enough to pay rent for at least the next few months, however, groceries were quite pricey these days. You huffed and glanced over to your suitcase to where it remained unpacked in the corner, clothes spilling out of it from where you had been carelessly digging through it. You had only been in Georgia for a few weeks, and hadn't really left to go anywhere. By the looks from what you could see out the window, it was an undeniably nice day, and job opportunities were always fluttering around. You decided that it was finally time to get your shit together and show Senoia what kind of girl you really were.
Swinging off your makeshift bed, you rose to your feet, grimacing slightly and groaning softly as you stretched and walked over towards the bathroom, frowning at the tangled mess that was your hair once you stood in front of the mirror. There were also a few stains on your shirt. Yeah, a shower was definitely needed. You twisted the handle to the middle and allowed the water to heat up, padding over to your messy suitcase.
There were a couple of hangers in the closet but that was about it. Luckily there were also shelves built in which would have to do for now. You were probably going to need a small list of things, hangers being priority number one.
Going through the suitcase, you had your everyday clothes, some old work clothes, and few clubbing clothes. Your duffel bag contained your personable items, as well as a couple of important documents and paperwork for the apartment. You had already moved all your hygienic stuff into the bathroom, and decided to stress about putting away your clothes later, focusing on what you would actually wear out.
You wanted it to be a mix between comfortable yet classy, classy yet also sexy. A simple and lowcut long-sleeve matched with a pair of bootcut jeans that you could easily jazz up with some jewelry and a cute hairstyle. Draping the outfit over your bed, you began to rid yourself of your clothes, fishing a towel as well as a bra and pair of panties out of your duffel bag, and stacking them together on the bathroom counter. You played music off your phone out loud and made a mental note to also buy a speaker, letting out a satisfied groan as you stepped under the hot spray from the shower head.
The water ran down the length of your body from where it soaked in your curly hair, eyes fluttering shut as droplets began rolling down your face. It felt incredible to have days worth of bedrotting be finally washed down the drain. You wiped the water out your eyes and wringed it out your hair, reaching for the shampoo bottle and twisting the cap off, dumping a handful of the liquid into your palm. You smeared it from the top of your head, carrying it down to your ends, beginning to thoroughly scrub your way back up to your scalp, where you worked the soap into the strands.
Once your hair was completely coated and covered in suds, you rinsed the excess from your hands and grabbed your body wash to start cleaning yourself up as you let the shampoo soak into your hair. You drizzled a generous amount onto the sponge amd ran it under the hot water, rubbing it together in your hands to create the foamy bubbles. You began to work your way up one arm, scrubbing the skin as you went over your shoulder and underneath your arm, moving over across your collarbone to the other arm, eventually working down the length of your chest, as well as legs.
You squeezed the remaining soap out from the sponge, hanging it back in its spot as you started to rinse off your body, leaned your head back and wringing the sudsy water out your hair, hands working to wash all the shampoo out the coily strands. Not that you were in a rush, but it did take a little time, an ache beginning to form in your arms by the time you were done. Pumping a generous amount of conditioner into your hand, you worked it into your scalp with the tips of your fingers and rubbed it into the rest of the strands, clipping it back once there was no more left in your hands.
This time you shaved your legs, cause lord knows it’s been a minute since you’ve done that. In the process of shaving them, you noticed that your bikini area could also use some razor work.
It had been a little while since you had needed any reason to shave down there, but now that you were in a new environment with new faces, you never knew what you might stumble across. The men back in your hometown were okay, but you held your hopes up high that Senoia would toss something totally unexpected your way.
Once you were bare and smooth, you washed away the hair caught in your razor and unclipped your curly hair, rinsing off the clip before your hair, humming at how soft the strands felt under the stream of water. You squeezed and wrung out the conditioner, hearing the days of neglect run down the drain. When it was all out, you gave your body one last thorough scrub, properly washing off your skin from head to toe before shutting off the water and grabbing your towel.
You sighed as you patted your face dry, moving down your neck and chest. As you dried your hair, you stood in front of the mirror, lazily singing along to the current song playing and striking a few poses in your nude form. Although you did have a few insecurities, ones that sprouted from your late teen years and hadn't really left in your adult years, you preferred to just focus on the parts of yourself that you really liked.
It was still fairly early as you rechecked your phone, dropping the towel down on the ground and slipping on your panties, clasping your bra on shortly after. You grabbed your toothbrush and squeezed almost a little too much paste onto the bristles, giving it some water before scrubbing your teeth, mindlessly walking around your apartment as you did. The main street below your window was still bustling with cars and filled with people spilling out of shops, and music thumping from the lively restaurants. There was a nearby park that was full of squealing children, as well as other people from the community and neighboring apartment complexes. All of it was much different than what you had grown accustomed to back home, but it was such a nice change of scenery all at the same time, and you couldn't wait to throw yourself out onto Senoia's street.
Back in your little bathroom, you flicked the sink faucet on and spit the gathered foam out, filling your mouth with water and swishing it around for a little, spitting it out as well. You also brushed your tongue before taking in another mouthful of water, washing out the remaining toothpaste from your brush before dropping it back in its cup, shutting the sink off, and wiping your mouth dry. Taking a deep, but quick grounding breath, you moved to put your clothes on, hiking your fairly tight jeans up before slipping on your top. Even though it was plain black, it had a cute set of flared sleeves.
You dug through your bag for your box of jewelry as well as your makeup, setting both down heavily on the counter as you stared at your hair in the mirror, huffing in annoyance as you started to wonder if you needed to style it. Maybe a half-up half-down look? No, a full ponytail would be better. But a high bun would also be cute... or maybe a half-bun. Maybe bald. Bald would be best.
You mentally kick yourself as you flip the lid to your makeup box open to distract yourself from your hairstyle dilemma. You reassured yourself that you'd figure out something by the time you were fully ready, sighing as you prepped your face. The only times you ever really used makeup was when you were going out with intent, and wanted to make sure that your face stood out to any potential victims. It didn't take long to do as you pointedly and skillfully brushed sharp and soft lines over your honey skin, keeping your hand as steady as your body would allow you.
A few swipes of liner and mascara later, glossy lips, and the front of your hair parted to the side, you were clipping on a silver necklace paired with a bracelet, and a dangly pair of earrings. It was a bit simple, so you decided to layer another necklace on top of the other, smiling at yourself in the mirror before flipping the lights off, padding out into the bedroom, and fishing around for your purse, placing it on the bed next to you as you slid on a pair of wedged sandals. Hopefully, the foot pain later would be worth it.
You slipped your phone into your back pocket, and threw your purse onto your shoulder, tossing in a small bottle of perfume just in case. You shut the doors inside and flicked off the main room light, creaking your front door open and securely shutting it behind you, locking it with your keys before tossing them into your purse, striding down the hallway of your complex with intention hot in your steps.
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When you pushed the door of your building open, the warm and inviting air of Senoia almost immediately filling your lungs, you felt a strong sense of anticipation surge through you as you walked out onto the sidewalk, the sounds of conversations now real and more animated than ever, the thumping of music now bumped through your feet and right in your chest.
As you casually strolled down the sidewalk, taking in all the different buildings and things to do, a furniture store caught your eye. While you didn't have any money, it never hurt to look around, and maybe get some information from some of the locals.
The furniture store was filled with pieces on the much older side and vintage lamps that only old ladies would be interested in, but you continued to walk around anyway. As you were browsing a wall of intricate paintings and sculptures, a kind-looking woman approached you.
"Welcome to Hollberg's! Our newer, more modern stuff is upstairs if that's more your style" She smiled, and you gave a polite one in return. "I'm just browsing for now. Just moved here about a week ago and I don't have a job yet" You lightly laughed.
The woman gave you an excited expression, clasping her hands together. "How nice! Where are you from originally?"
"Louisiana, Chalmette. I lived there for most of my life so I just needed a fresh start somewhere totally new." You sigh, still kindly smiling at her.
"I get that, and Senoia is perfect for that, Georgia overall. Atlanta is also quite close, and there's lots of job opportunities out there."
You frown, "Unfortunately I don't have a car, and you can't Uber without money" Shaking your head at your obviously very sticky situation.
The woman seemed to think for a moment, walking quickly away to fetch something from behind a desk and coming back over, holding out a few pieces of paper. "We aren't hiring now, but here are some flyers for restaurants in this strip. Not sure how lucky you'll get, but I do wish you luck. There's a cafe right across the way" You took the flyers from her, smiling at her one last. "Thanks girl. Hopefully, next time we talk it's about furniture" She let out a small laugh, watching as you spun on your heels and walked out of the store.
On your way out, you almost immediately spotted the cafe and wasted no time walking over to it, quickly crossing the street while throwing a few quick glances to the left and right as you did. Before you entered, you slipped the restaurant flyers into your purse and swung the door open, the smell of coffee strong and a bit overwhelming. The cafe was quite large inside, and there was a small line at the registers at near front, nothing you weren't willing to stand in.
Once you reached the front, you were greeted by a young woman, smiling brightly at you. "Hi! Welcome to Senoia's Coffee and Cafe, what can I get started for you?"
"Sorry, I'm not looking to buy anything, I'm actually looking for work. I just moved here about a week ago" She made a small look of surprise, furrowing her brows as she mouthed 'one moment' and disappeared behind a wall, returning mere seconds later with a sheepish look replacing her previous one. "We, unfortunately, aren't hiring right now. I think my boss is in a bad mood, but I heard the restaurant down the street is hiring! Uh, just can't think of the name"
You fish out the flyers, "Any of these?" Holding them out to her. She tilts her head, humming quietly before tapping her finger against one. "This place! They need waitresses, especially around this time. You'd be a great fit there too" She smiled, and you smiled back, giving her a "Thanks" before walking back out of the shop, and down the sidewalk, eyeing a few of the other buildings before stopping in front of dark gray one, reading the sign before pulling the door open.
The inside of the restaurant was absolutely stunning, with clean floors, and light walls mixed with brick that complemented the expensive chandlers hanging from the ceiling, highlighted against the polished wooden furniture. There was casual jazz playing in back, loud enough to hear but loud enough to still be able to talk normally.
The restaurant was fairly small, a highly stocked bar on one side and the dining room on the other, bathrooms at the back. You weren't quite sure where to stand, awkwardly off to the side as you scanned the room for someone, feeling relieved when a woman spotted you and called that she would be right there. You watched as she cleaned a finished table, quickly walking the dirty dishes into the kitchen before coming back out, huffing when she reappeared.
"It's a lot of work, huh?" You asked kindly, and she sighed.
"Hell yes. I jus' wish I had one more set of hands" She laughed airily, tapping at something on her register. "Table fer one?"
You shook your head, "No, I'm actually here to work. Just moved here a week ago" Smiling softly at her.
She gave you a look of surprise, "Really? Where ya comin' from?"
"Chalmette in Louisiana. I just needed a different change of scenery, somewhere new where I can figure my shit out" She nodded her head at your words. "I hear that. Good fer ya' girl! Like I said, I need one more set of hands. Got any experience?"
"I worked in a sports bar for a good while back home, there wasn't really much to work with" You sighed. "I've never served tables but I was a host for a little bit"
She seemed pretty satisfied, nodding as you spoke with a smile tugging her lips. "Well, I'd say yer gonna make a pretty good damn waitress. How soon can ya' start?"
"I'd start today if you let me" You laugh lightly, and she makes a face. "I mean if you can bring me the papers I need within the hour I can get you a shift tonight"
You blinked at her, raising a brow. "Seriously?"
"I'll give ya' the uniform straight after, m'serious" She smiled, holding out her hand.
You took hers in yours with little hesitation, shaking it firmly. “I’ll be right back” Was all you said before walking out the restaurant, quickly and eagerly striding back over to your apartment building. It was maybe a five minute walk, which was not bad at all. As you entered, walking through the lobby and up the stairs, you dug in your purse for the keys to your studio, swinging them around your finger as you walked down the hallway on your floor.
Unlocking the door, you stepped inside and shut it, placing your purse on the counter and taking out the flyers, rushing over to your suit case and flipping it open, rummaging through. You grumbled as you began pulling stuff out, zipping open pockets and shaking the bag, about to freak out when the blue folder fell out. “Aha!”
You cracked it open, smiling when you confirmed the important papers such as your W2 as well as birth certificate. You rose to your feet and it in your purse, finish out your wallet to make sure you had your I.D as well as social security, tossing it back into the bag and sliding it back over your shoulder, setting out your house once again to go get your new job.
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You felt a small amount of anxiety boiling in your stomach as the sun started to set, the main street of Senoia, only get louder and louder, even through your shut window. Your eyes flickered down to your pressed uniform, sharply exhaling as you checked the time on your phone and unlocked it, rereading the schedule over and over again. It was about five-thirty, and you needed to be there at six.
Hooking your phone up to get some more charge as you stripped out your regular clothed and into your work ones, humming pleasantly as you looked the mirror. The shirt was tight but loose fit, and the pants covered your ankles. It was an all black uniform, ‘Nic & Norman’s’ in the left corner embroidered in white.
To keep your hair out the way, but still stylish, you tied it back into two high and curly space buns. You decided to go for a simple cat eye liner look, sticking on a pair of lashes instead of mascara this time. A few quick swipes of a rose pink gloss, and a couple spritz’s of your most expensive perfume, you were done and ready to go.
As you slipped a pair of black tennis shoes on, you still had a lingering feeling of nerves in your tummy. This wasn’t your first job obviously, but this was you first waitress job. The woman you had spoken too, who’s name you learned was Tyler, reassured you that you were a perfect fit.
Standing in the mirror one last time, you gave yourself a good look over to make sure you looked professional and presentable, hopefully also tippable.
You tossed your purse over your shoulder, and draped a sweater over yourself, flipping off all the lights and shutting the front door behind you, locking it and stuffing your keys inside.
Just as you expected, the air was brisk and much cooler than it had been when the sun was still high in the sky, night falling over the streets and Senoia’s street lighting itself up, restaurants now more alive than ever. As you walked with a small crowd, you observed how almost everyone was now dressed in more proper attire, nicely ironed suits paired to modestly short dresses.
The outside seating of Nic & Norman’s was already packed full when you arrived, swinging the door open to find the inside seats equally as stuffed. You felt your nerves soaring this time, and tried not to awkwardly duck your head down as you walked into the kitchen, feeling like a foreigner.
“Y/n! Thank fuck!” Tyler gasped from behind you, making you jump slightly. “I’ve got salads and burgers wedged so far up m’fuckin’ ass” She grumbled, grabbing you by thw wrist and pulling you quickly through the clamoring kitchen into a back office.
She dropped down onto a seat, sighing heavily. “Is it like this every night?” You asked, a little more scared then you should be.
“Sometimes. If m’not mistaken, one of the owners should be coming tomorrow. Boy do I sure hope it’s Norman” Tyler sighed, dreamily at the end. She stared off into space with a small smile, and you looked around the room, looking at the overflowing cubbies. “Shit sucks. Ya’ can stick yer stuff with mine” She spoke, snapped out her trance and pointing at a pile a good distance away from the rest. “It’s okay. People know not ta’ fuck with m’shit” Tyler added when she saw the wary look on your face.
“So, who exactly is ‘Nic and Norman’?” You question, and Tyler’s mouth drops.
“You don’t know who Greg Nicotero and Norman Reedus are?” You shook your head, brows furrowed in pure confusion. Maybe you did know them, you just never were very big on putting faces to names.
Tyler whipped out her phone, but frowned. “Shit girl, forgot we had a job ta’ be doin’. Don’ even stress. Ya’ look real good. Shirt fits ya’ good too. Yer gon be loaded up with tips, ‘nd m’sure ya’ can handle tha’ creeps” She rose to her feet, checking her own makeup in the camera lense of her phone before pocketing it. “And don’ try ta’ be fuckin’ superman and carry thirty plates at a time. Pro-tip, learn some Tetris” Tyler swiped a new layer of gloss on her lips, and tossed it into her pocket, pulling you back through the busy kitchen.
“Luckily they print tha’ table number tha’ food is fer on tha’ ticket, so tha’ chef’s started ta’ put tickets with plates, so when ya come here, just find yer table” She explained quickly yet simply, each word she spoke going in one ear and echoing in the other, turning themselves on loop.
Tyler poked her head out the kitchen, looking around before she beckoned someone over. A young man came jogging over, and she pulled him inside by his shirt. Damn if she didn’t play around.
“This is Javi, one of our hosts tonigh’.” Tyler gestured to his with her hands, and he waved politely. “Javi is gon’ show ya’ yer table section. From this point on, m’gon be nothin’ but a blur ta’ ya” She placed a hand on your shoulder, smiling at you before turning and picking up the plates from earlier, easily balancing them on her arms and kicking open the kitchen door, out onto the floor.
A awkward moment of silence passed between you and the young man, not really quiet, but there were no words spoken as he swiped through something on an iPad, brows slightly furrowed. “You’re um, you’re y/n right?” He mumbled, and you nodded.
Javi motioned for you to follow him with his head, and he led you out into the loud dining area, bringing you over towards the bar. “See those four tables there?” He pointed, and you had to follow his finger, nodding when you spotted the four booths he was pointing to. “All yours. They can hold up to like ten people, so good luck.” You grimaced at that, feeling your stomach do flips.
“Here. Can’t be a waitress without your notepad. Or a pen” Javi joked, and you smiled kindly at him, thanking him. As you did, a new wave of people entered, prompting Javi to go over and get them situated. You watched as he seated the new guests, and pulled a group waiting from the lobby, grabbing their menus and leading them over to your section.
He came back over, mouthing ‘all yours’ before disappearing into the kitchen.
You took a few, shaky and deep breaths, before putting on your friendliest face and approaching the table.
Luckily, it was just a simple family, mom and dad with their two kids who seemed to be well over the age of ten. You greeted them with a kind smile, “Welcome to Nic & Norman’s, my name is Y/n and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you started on any drinks?” You clicked your pen, pressing it into the pad of paper.
The mother smiled back at you, “You guys sure are busy! I bet it’s always exciting when they come to town, huh?” She glanced back at her menu, acting as if she hadn’t left you totally clueless.
“Yeah. It’s only my first day here so I’m a little nervous” You confess, brushing off her earlier statement. “Gosh! Well, guess we’re testing you now!” She laughed, and you laughed as well, only a tad unnerved. “I think I’ll just do a simple cocktail” You nodded, writing down at the top of the pad. Her son ordered a strawberry lemonade, her daughter a soda, and her dad a beer.
“I’ll have those right out for you guys” You clicked your pen once again, and quickly walked away, retreating back into the kitchen.
You pushed the doors open, but frowned at the loud clamoring and multiple orders being shuffled out. No way in hell would your drinks be done in a reasonable time. You exited out the kitchen, glancing around when you had a lightbulb moment.
“Psst, hey muscle man” You called to the bartender, leaning against the counter. “Think you could make these real fast?” You held out the drink ticket, wiggling it as you flirtatiously smiled and batted your lashes.
He stammered for a second, “muscle man?” glancing down at himself and feeling a heat rise to his cheeks. What could you say? You knew a strong man when you saw one.
You kept your hand outstretched, motioning for him to take it.
“Do I even know you?” He raised a brow, and you shook your head. “Nope. But you should do it anyways” You smile, and he frowns, taking the paper from your hand. You spot Javi leaving your section, throwing you a glance and a thumbs up, and you tap the bartop. “I’m counting on you, Hercules”
You approach your second table, and feel a hint of annoyance surge through you as you discover it’s a group of men. Very loud ones at that. You put on your best fakest smile, clicking your pen against your leg as you spoke. “Welcome to Nic & Norman’s, my name is Y/n and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get a round of drinks going for you gentlemen?”
One of the men whistled, “Well ain’t you just somethin’ pretty to look at” letting out a very country laugh.
A few of the other men let out laughs, and you simply smiled, more of ‘I wish I was off the clock so I could rock you’ smile, but still a smile. “Yeah. I’m also here to get you guys something to drink” You joked, knowing men tipped more when you gave into their antics.
"Let the woman do her job, Bill" Another man said to him, nudging him with his arm and he swatted them away. You tapped your pen against the paper, trying not to hurt one of them. Thankfully they made things easy and agreed to order a round of beer. You murmured that you'd be back, quickly walking out of the section to the bar.
When you walked over, you could see the family's drinks sitting on top of the counter and swapped out the drink tickets when you stopped before them. It was a little awkward trying to carry four drinks at once, struggling as you kept picking up and putting the cups downs.
“See? Wha' did I say?” Tyler spoke as she suddenly appeared next to you, placing a hand on her hip. “Tryin’ be some kind of fuckin’ avenger when yer jus’ makin’ yerself look goofy” She scoffed and held out her dish tray, watching as you placed the drinks down on it.
You took it from her with a sheepish look. "Thanks, Just a bit on edge" You told her, and she placed both her hands on your shoulders, smiling softly at you. "Don' be. Yer a natural. Jus' keep doin' wha' yer doin'" She gave you a salute and was gone as quickly as she had come.
Sighing sharply, you walk the tray of drinks over to the family with a smile and hand them, listening to the mother awe over the colors of her cocktail. "How pretty! I think we're all ready to order, right?" She glanced at her family for their confirmation, and you pulled your notepad out, tucking your tray under your arm. The mother ordered a margarita flatbread, her husband ordering a whiskey salmon, and her kids both ordering a classic hamburger. "I'll have those out for you guys shortly" You smiled once you had their order scribbled down, collecting their menus and leaving them be.
You walked past the men's table, briefly letting them know you were coming back with their beers, and dropped the menus off to the front where Javi was standing, getting the next group of people seated. "Y/n, I'm gonna stick these folks in your section. Hand me those" He said as he turned to you, taking the menus from your hand and leading them to your third table. You weren't doing too bad if you did say so yourself.
Thanks to the help of the tray, loading up the round of beers for the men wasn't much of a hassle at all. When they saw you approaching with the mugs filled to the bim, they whooped and hollered, prompting you to shush them as they began to collect eyes nearby. Instead of handing out the drinks like you did with the last table, you simply let them take their respective mug off the tray, knocking their glasses together. "I'm guessing you fellas are ready to order huh?" You give them your best show, even jutting your hip out a little. Don't get mad at a girl for using her resources.
"You bet'cha sweet ass we are, and this big boy wants a steak" The one they call Bill piped up once again, drumming on his belly as he spoke. A few laughs erupted from the table, and you felt your eye twitching. "How would you like that cooked?" You mumbled, smile just barely clinging to your face. "Medium-rare. I like mines to be pink on the inside" He laughed gravelly, and you tried to act like he wasn't comparing a steak to someone's vagina.
The same man nudged Bill, this time a little harder and more serious than last time. "Sorry 'bout him. I'll do the medallions" You nodded at him as you wrote down his order, murmuring how it was alright. The other men just started to throw their orders out there, placing their menus down in the middle once you had their request scribbled down. You gathered all the menus and dropped them off to the front, exhaling as you made your way to the kitchen in order to get your tables food started.
As you pushed the door open, you groaned when you saw how chaotically busy it was getting, loud chattering and banging filling the space. Orders were lined up and quickly being pushed out, some of the other waiters brushing past with their own trays of food in hand. Glancing around for someone, you awkwardly handed off the papers to the nearest chef. Getting ready to exit out the kitchen, feeling as though you were in the way the sound of applause rang out from the front, and all movement around seem to freeze for split second. You all looked around at each other, mirroring faces of confusion before Tyler came barreling through the doors.
"Norman fucking Reedus just fucking walked in and I swear on everythin' I love I'm gon’ go absloutely mad" She rambled, bouncing with energy.
“I thought he wasn’t supposed to come til tomorrow?” The head chef spoke, rising a brow from where he was manning a large grill.
Tyler rolled her eyes, charging towards rhe back office. “Who cares? He’s here now ‘nd I need ta’ make sure I look good!” She got about halfway, before turning back around grabbing you by the wrist, resuming her mission to the office.
Inside, she shuffled over to hee stuff, digging through a backpack and pulling out a makeup bag, plopping down in a seat and pulling up the lens of her phone. “So what’s the big deal?”
“Wha’s tha’ big deal?” Her eyes almost bulged out of her head, staring at you in shock and a bit of horror. “Oh, nothin’, jus’ tha’ he’s tha’ sexiest guy in Hollywood”
You scoffed at her, “Sexy ain’t nothing if he’s shit in the sheets” shaking your head.
Tyler groaned, curling her lashes carefully. “Ya’ don’ even know wha’ yer talkin’ ‘bout. He’s a munch, certifiable”
“Psh. I’ll believe that when I see it.” You say, turning to walk out the office and get a look at this guy for yourself.
“Wait!” Tyler held out her hand, rising to her feet. “Yer not leavin’ without a little touchup. One of us is gettin’ lucky tonight and it’s gon’ be me. If ya’ fuck him, I want all them details” She spoke as she maneuvered you to sit in the chair, tilting your your head up and insecpting your face.
“If I do fuck him it’ll just be so I can get ahold of his wallet” You murmur, closing your eyes as she dusted the lids of them with glitter, brushing some down the bridge of your nose. “Well ya’ better share some with me” She pinched your nose, and you swatted playfully at her, smirking. “I’ll think about it”
She swipes a glossy layer of gloss over your lips, before her own, tossing the contents of her makeup back into the bag and the bag back into her backpack. The kitchen has returned to loud clamoring and pots and pans being banged together, servers dashing in and out with their orders.
Nearby by, the food for your first table was waiting patiently for you, and you gasped softly. “Oh wow this stuff actually looks really good!”
Tyler held out the dish tray for you, again, holding it with both hands and verbally helping you to cram all four dishes on there, the flatbread being a long and awkward dish. “The salmon is super good. I probably done’ forced the kitchen ta’ make it fer m’bout a hundred times now” She laughed as she spoke, gingerly handing off the the tray to you. “Don’ drop nothin’”
“Now why would you even say that?” You roll your eyes at her, and lightly kick her shin, turning on your heel quickly to walk out the kitchen when she frowned your actions.
You pushed the door open with your hip and walked back out into the busy dining area, a smile on your face as you approached the family with their food, placing the tray down on the table so you could hand out their plates easily. The mother helped by taking her flatbread off, humming as she made sure it was exactly what she had wanted. “Could I get anything else for you folks tonight?” You politely asked, sliding the tray off the table and back under your arm. “Nope! Thank you, you’ve been so kind and helpful” The woman smiled back at you, and you slightly bowed your head before leaving them to their meal.
“I should be back with you guys food as well. Another round while we wait?” You stopped by the mens table, observing their almost empty mugs and giving a thumbs up at their rowdy agreement. “And my apologies for the wait. At least you had plenty of menu looking time right?” You joked lightly as you finally approached your third table for the night, a small group of friends who seemed like easy people to deal with.
“Ahaha, not much. We were pretty hung up on drinks. I think we’re all gonna try the Bloody Nicotero” One of the women spoke, glancing around the table for her friends confirmations. They all nodded in agreement, and another girl requested for a cup of water. “Would you like table water? For all of you!” They nodded, and you scribbled down the few drinks. “I’ll be right back with those” You smile at them, and as soon as you walk out the section it totally drops.
“Hey, muscle man!” You called out to him, leaning over the bartop. He eyed you from the side, finishing the drink he was currently pouring before moving over to you, a brow raised. “I have a name y’know” He pointed to the tag, but you ignored him, raising your own finger and pointing to the group’s order. “What the hell is a bloody Nekot… Nickote- Tar?-“
“Nicotero. And it really packs a punch” A man spoke suddenly from behind you, making you instinctively jump with your hands raised. “My God! Didn’t your momma teach you not to walk up behind people?” You huffed and put a hand over your thumping heart, turning back to the bartender to promptly ignore the asshole behind you.
“So like I was saying- What? Why’re you looking like that?” You glance at his stun face, and turn back to the man behind you, a curious smile tugging his lips. “Are you Nicotero?” You quirk a brow, and the bartender sputters.
The man lets out a light chuckle, shaking his head which made his wavy curls bounce. His hair was fair dark and stopped at his shoulders, his bangs attractively pushed back by a pair of sunglasses. He was pretty tall, and very well built, eyes lingering on his musclar arms longer than they should’ve. Your eyes flickered down to the skull inked on his hand, and then back up to his face.
“Nope. Nicotero is the other guy. I’m just Norman” His voice was smooth and rich, but not quite deep. It had a light and airy feel to it, very gentle on the ears.
Norman. Norman… “Reedus?” He nodded. Oh, well, shit. “Don’ know if you were aware of this pretty girl but I own this place” He spoke casually and easily.
“I wasn’t actually. I’ve only lived here for a week” You told him, watching as the bartender busied himself with your group’s drinks, as well as the men’s beers. “And this is my first day working here, and right now you, Norman, are being a distraction”
He raised a bow, smile only growing across his lips as he spoke. “That’s just what I do best darling”
You placed the tray down on the bartop and assist the man in fitting both the bloodies and waters onto the platter, slowly and very carefully picking it up.
Norman stepped out your way, and as you shuffled past him you stopped to whisper in his ear. “I feel like there’s a lot else you do best” You murmured, flirtatiously winking and walking into your section, greeting the friend group with a smile.
“Got your drinks here folks, heard these things knock your socks off so good luck” You joke as you hand out straws, clicking your pen and flipping through your notepad. “Is everyone ready to order?” You press the tip of the pen into the paper, writing down the first order shouted out and going down the line. There was a simple mix of burgers and salads, a few people had special requests on how they wanted their food to be which you wrote underneath, small but big at the same time.
You collected their menus, letting them know you'd have their food out shortly and whisking away, dropping the menus off at the front and walking quickly to the kitchen, glancing at Javi who seemed to be conversing with Norman. You pushed the door open and huffed a sigh of relief when the men's food was sitting there waiting. Placing the tray down, you loaded the plates on the best you could, having to carry two of them out with your other hand, balancing one on your forearm.
Another waitress saw you as she entered the kitchen, and she politely held the door open for you, nodding as you thanked her on your way out.
"Not gonna drop that are you?" Javi questioned when you walked back past, causing Norman to turn and glance at you.
You continue walking away, a smirk pulling your lips. "Not if you stop talking" The feeling of eyes lingering on your back makes a chill run up your spine, and part of you swears that you can feel butterflies in your stomach.
The men see you approaching their table, and at first, they start cheering but quiet down when they realize you were balancing heavy plates, resuming their celebration once the food is safely placed on the table. You call out the names of dishes to find their rightful owner, watching the men grab their plates and eagerly start eating, satisfied groans sounding from the table. With that, you left them to eat and returned back to the family, who was chatting amongst themselves and seemed finished with their food, most of it half eaten.
"Would you guys like some to-go boxes?" You smile, and the mother nods, "Yes please, and you can bring the tab as well," mirroring the kind smile you gave her.
You informed her you'd be right back with that, quickly walking out of the section and to the kitchen, glancing around. "Where's Tyler?" You asked a nearby chef, and he furrowed his brows, tilting his head in confusion. You repeated your question, a little louder this time, and he made an 'O' face, pointing to the office. You thanked him, and made your way back there, knocking before creaking the door open.
"What are you doing?" You stare at her, sitting in the chair with a tall cup and her phone in her hand. "Wha'? I needed my coffee" She shrugged, a smile playing on her lips. "Talk to my beloved husband yet?" You rolled your eyes at that, stepping inside the office, but catching yourself. "Wait! Uh, my first table is ready to pay"
"Oh!" Tyler kicked herself off the chair, stretching and taking another sip of her caffeine. "C'mere, lemme show ya'" She said as she ushered you out. She led you through the kitchen, bringing you to a section behind the door you hadn't even noticed was there.
There was a computer with a list of waiters and waitresses on them, table numbers as well as totals on it. You spotted your name, and read the first tables total, which actually wasn't a bad price at all. "Jus' click tha', and then the huge print button" Tyler pointed, tapping the screen as she explained. The machine behind the computer whizzed to life, printing out a receipt. "They want boxes?" She questioned and you nodded, watching as she reached her hand down and pulled four to-go boxes out. You took them from her silently, blinking as if she had just performed a magic trick.
Tyler tore the receipt out of the machine, clicking her pen and scribbling something down. As she did, the machine began to print once again, and Tyler pulled out a slim booklet from underneath. "It prints twice 'cause tha' second receipt is tha' one tha' customer signs" She said as she took the paper out the machine, sticking it into the booklet, and handing it to you.
You took it from her with a smile. "Thanks. I did talk to Norman, and he's alright. Nothing too special" She gawked at your words, and started to playfully smack you with her hands. "Ugh! Ya' don' know wha' yer yappin' 'bout! Tha' man will change yer life" She harped, voice fading as you walked out the kitchen, lips stuck in a smile as you brought over your first tab of the night.
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The rest of your shift went by with a breeze, the number of people coming in was now lessening and coming in pairs of two and four. It wasn't as busy anymore, and the air around seemed to be less tense.
You only had about one more hour left before you were done, and had about two tables still waiting for their food. You were ecstatic that your first night had gone by without any mishaps or complaints, having received generous tips from all your tables throughout.
On your way back to the kitchen to check on your last few orders, you spotted Norman sitting alone at the bar with a small drink in hand as he seemed to do something on his phone. You aren't sure what came over you, but you found yourself quietly approaching from behind.
"Shouldn't you be riding away in a limo back to your mansion?" He jumped slightly at the sudden sound of your voice, turning towards you with a small smile. "Maybe, but I didn't wanna leave without getting to know you better" You raised a brow at that. "Seriously? I'm just a waitress. Shouldn't you be like screwing around with models?"
Norman laughed at that, shaking his head a little. "Who's to say you aren't a model?"
"Well, aren't you just a real charmer" You giggled, feeling a heat rising to your cheeks. "What? You wanna take me home or something?" You said jokingly, standing more off to his side now.
You observed the look on his face, soft, interested, yet so dark. His piercing blue eyes shamelessly raked over your figure, tongue darting out over his lips. "Yeah. I really do" He whispered, eyes landing on yours. "Can I?"
"Not very celeb-like taking home staff don't you think?" You hummed, taking his drink and downing the rest, a mix between whiskey and coke. "It would be quite unprofessional for you to take me to your house when I get off in thirty minutes, very unprofessional indeed" You sensually mumbled, tossing him a final cheeky glance before disappearing into the kitchen, almost sprinting to the back office to go find Tyler, giddy smile tugging your lips.
Staring at his now empty glass, head resting in his hand, Norman couldn't help the way his stomach flipped, excitement and anticipation building up as your words rang out in his head.
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Thirty minutes had felt like a whole other hour, and you heaved a sigh of relief when you finally clocked out, purse slung over your shoulder and your sweater draped over yourself in a puny attempt to shield yourself from the cold.
Tyler had almost flipped the table over when you told her, jumping off the walls and excitedly shaking you, squealing as she rambled about all the things she thought were gonna happen, yelling that you needed to tell her every detail afterward. She even downright begged for you to get some pictures.
She had already left in her car to go home, slamming the digits of her number into your phone and pulling you into a tight hug, telling you to be safe and text her as soon as you got to your next destination, threatening to send out a search squad.
You stood outside, mindlessly rolling a rock under your foot and swiping through Insta, starting to wonder if a literal A-list celeb had just totally played in your face. Minutes went by and you started to feel a little offended, rightfully so, deciding to start making your way back home instead of waiting around like an idiot. As you were walking, you texted Tyler that you were leaving, that he had just left instead. Cars passed by and obviously none seemed to belong to someone who would own a restaurant. You scoffed, annoyed but not surprised.
As you rounded the corner to the street of your apartment building, you just so happened to crash into somebody smoking a cigarette, of coursing falling onto your ass like a dumbfuck.
"Damn, tryna run away from me gorgeous?" Norman's light voice sounded, and you blinked your eyes into focus. "Been looking for you" You grumbled as he easily lifted you off the ground, taking a drag from the cigarette. "Sorry. I get bored sitting still for too long" He shrugged, smiling cheekily at you. "Ready to go?"
"Go where? My house is right there" You shook your head, gesturing towards the building.
Norman waved his hand, dismissing you. "Nah. Gonna take you for a little ride. C'mon," He took a final pull, stubbing his cig out on the wall and motioning for you to follow him.
He led you back down the sidewalk and a little distance from the restaurant, making easy and light conversation. It felt like you had known him forever with the way he casually joked around with you, your heart fluttering a little each time he laughed.
He walked you over to a sleek and shiny motorcycle, standing on the other side of it with his hand held out, offering you some help with climbing onto the back of his bike. "A romantic bike ride? And here I thought you had ghosted me" You laughed when he himself straddled the bike, the engine roaring to life.
"Ghosted? Someone like you? Never doll" Norman chuckled over the rumble of his bike, kicking the stand out and rolling out the parking lot, glancing both ways for any passing cars.
You wrapped your arms around his middle when he started to pick up speed, turning off Senoia's main road and revving the engine, motorcycle quickly shooting forward. "Not so fast!" You gasp, tightening your hold. He laughed, patting one of your hands with his. You put your head on his shoulder to get a better view of the road, catching a strong whiff of his very expensive-smelling cologne, an exotic herbal smell that attracted you to him more, a heat shooting down to your core.
Norman caught a glimpse of your lust-filling eyes in his side mirror, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he knew he was in for a treat tonight, almost instinctively revving his engine again to speed up, but obeyed your request to not go too fast. He drove with the flow of traffic, listening to you awe over the lights and buildings. "Ever been to Atlanta?"
"Atlanta? Wh-why are we going there?" You stammered, taken aback since well, that was bit of a distance.
"Oh no doll, we aren't going. Yer just back there 'oh'ing and 'awe'ing I figured not" Norman chuckled, laughing when you smacked his shoulder. "Hold on, we're almost there" This time he revved his engine again, weaving between cars.
It made you feel like a teenager again, getting whisked away at night to some random guys house for an hour or two of fun, just to be dropped off somewhere unknown but close to home. It brought you back to your early twenties also, the years having been filled with nothing but hungover days and drunken nights, latching onto some poor guy who was willing to buy you every shot you down, likely in hopes of getting laid.
Sitting on the back of Norman’s bike however, something your gut told you this would be a little more than just a plain hook-up. Tyler’s words rang out in your head, and you couldn’t help but start to wonder if this really would change your life.
The traffic on the road dispersed as he drove further out, eventually turning down a quiet and dirt road.
“Whoa, I ain’t about to get murdered am I?” You joked, but you were really asking.
Norman chuckled, squeezing your hand and even looping his fingers through. “Nah. I’d take you out somewhere pretty”
“You wanna take me out or take me to bed?” You wiggled your fingers in his hold as a mock wiggle of the brows.
“Maybe I wanna do both”
Jesus, this man was something else.
The dirt road continued out for a couple of miles out, gravel and rocks crunching under the spinning tires of his bike. The road seemed to be hidden by a tall grassy field and towering trees, the only sound interrupting the peace being the rumble of Norman’s engine.
He made another turn, the tall field of grass seeming endlessly as he drove until you could barely make out what looked like houses at the top of a field. Shit, maybe he really was gonna murder you?
Norman revved the engine and the motorcycle picked up speeds, whipping the cool country air into your face and probably messing up your tied hair. The large houses came closer into view, huge properties with cars in driveways and lights on. The houses were scattered, your next-door neighbor being about five normal houses away.
Norman rolled down the street at a slower speed as to not disturb his neighbors, approaching a dark and gated house. The gates opened after the man pressed a few buttons on his phone, the outside lights of the home fading on and making it look more welcoming.
The gates closed behind the two of you when he rumbled onto the large driveway, lazily parking his bike right where he was.
This time you didn’t need any help, swinging yourself off the motorcycle and immediately tossing your arms up to stretch as you stared at the literal mansion you were about to walk into.
“C’mon. Did you get a chance to eat?” Norman placed a hand on your hip and led you to the front door, some fancy thumbprint technology letting him in.
“Not yet,” You smile softly as you enter the home, standing in the boxed-off foyer. “I got whisked away before I could escape back home”
“Well, I surely didn’t bring you here to starve you. Take your shoes off, I’ll mix something up” Norman said as he took his own shoes off, socked feet quiet against his wooden floors.
You toed off your own shoes next to his and followed, staring in awe at the midsized entrance. Two staircases descended on either side, leading to an equally large-looking upstairs with a small balcony.
Straight ahead, there was an opening that led out to the spacious main area, tall industrial windows covered the walls in the living room, paired with ceiling-to-floor navy blue curtains tied back so as to probably let in the earlier sunlight. The kitchen was big as well, with dark and wooden cabinets matched to grey ash-colored granite counters with specs of black obsidian throughout.
You had never seen such a gorgeous home, marveling at how clean it was. It had a luxurious feel while still being homely at the same time, a few paintings and sculptures hung up on the walls, sitting on table tops.
“This place is beautiful,” You said after taking a minute to fully appreciate the decor, resting your hip against the counter. “Do you live here?” You placed your purse down.
Norman laughed from somewhere, rounding a corner with an expensive-looking bottle of whiskey. “For the moment. I’m usually out in New York, but I have to be here for some work” You watched as he poured two glasses, handing you one a small smile.
You clinked the glasses together and both threw them back, the liquid burning your throat as well as your chest. “What do you do for work?” You said as you cleared your throat.
“Well right now we’re shooting,” Norman said casually, turning and opening the large fridge.
“A movie?” You question, pulling at the collar of your shirt.
The man chuckled slightly, “Do you have any ideaa who I am?” turning to you with a playful smile tugging his lips.
You scoffed, cheeks heating up a little bit because, well, “No, not really. My co-worker seemed to be a fan though”
“Oh really now? What’d she tell you?” Norman quipped, chopping and tossing the ingredients for what you could see was a really stuffed chicken salad.
“That you were the sexiest guy in Hollywood” He laughed at that, and you couldn’t help but stare at his broad shoulders from behind, watching his back muscles as he fixed the food.
“Well?” He said after a minute, and you realized you had zoned out. “What?”
Norman glanced at you, a dark look in his blue eyes. “Do you agree with her?”
You stared at him for a moment, before slowly approaching, stopping only a few centimeters short from him.
“Make me agree with her” You whispered, batting your lashes as you ran your finger up his arm.
Norman halted his movements, staring at you before his eyes flickered down to your lips, not hesitating to lean down and kiss them.
“Ya’ ain’t got no clue what you’re askin’ for, doll” He rasped, disregarding the half-made salad as he gripped your waist, lifting you off your feet and onto the island top, slotting himself between your legs as he moved to capture your lips in another kiss, this one way more eager and heated.
You moaned softly into his mouth as his hands caressed and fondled your waist, sliding down to your hips and pulling you closer against him, pressed his bulge into your clothed cunt.
He kissed you calculated yet sloppily, tongue swirling around in your mouth as his fingers slipped under your uniform. You hooked an arm around the back of his neck and bit down on his bottom lip, hard enough to where he groaned painfully. “Come on, impress me already”
“Whadd’ya want from me?” Norman started to kiss and lick your neck, but you yanked his head back by his hair, for starters yanking the pokey sunglasses off. “I wanna see what you’ve got, maybe like,” You trailed a hand down his chest, pushing him hard so he stumbled into the counter behind him. “What you’ve got in your pants?”
You kicked yourself off the island, pulling the hair ties out your hair and fluffing it out, dropping down to crawl over to Norman, evil smile taking over your lips as you scratched your nails down his denim jeans, mouthing and placing open mouth kisses over his straining cock.
Norman groaned above you, “Think ya can handle it?” a hand coming down and tangling into your hair.
“Can you handle it?” You retort, taking the zipper of his jeans between your teeth and unzipping them, popping the button open.
You tugged his boxers down, very unexpectedly getting smacked in the face by his cock, a good thick eight inches. His tip was red and leaky, the veins running along his shaft pulsating. You had been with your fair share of big guys, but Norman was quite impressive, your fingers stretching when you wrapped them around him.
You gave him a few experimental strokes, playfully looking up at him through your lashes as you run your tongue from his balls, all the way up to the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it and taking it into your mouth, sucking the salty pre-cum off.
Norman’s hips jerked slightly, a mumble of curses falling from his lips as he tightened his grip on your hair. “M’not gonna be very nice to ya’ if you keep it up” He grunted, his face a little flushed.
“Didn’t want you to be nice in the place” You mused as you licked down the sides of his throbbing dick, smearing spit from your tongue as you went along. “Such a big cock but do you even know how to use it?”
Norman scoffed slightly, “Ya’ really don’t know who I am” rolling his hips when you took only his tip past your lips.
“Gonna show me?” You wiggled your butt a little, a surge of excitement coursing through you when rough hands gathered all your hair in one. “Yup, gon’ make you remember it too. Open that little bratty ass mouth wide” He tugged your head back, and you moaned, stretching open your lips as well curling your tongue inside your mouth.
Norman slowly slid himself inside, grunting at the warm wetness engulfing him as he leisurely rocked his hips, thrusting half his cock past your lips. There was an uncomfortable stretch the more he pushed in, a slight burning sensation as he worked himself in.
“I know this pretty throat can take a lot more, c’mon girl” Norman rasped, tilting your head further back and holding himself at his base, pushing in until his tip hit the back of your throat.
You relaxed your gag muscles, staring up at him innocently as you started to slide the head of his cock down, Norman letting out a thick hum as his grip in your hair tightened and his eyes fluttered, his hips jerking forward. He snapped the rest of his length suddenly down into your throat, a harsh grunt coming from him when your moan vibrated through him.
He pulled his hips back and sent them forward again, going smoothly back down in one thrust, repeating this action a few times. Norman watched how all his cock disappeared past your plush lips, nose nuzzled in his well-trimmed pubes before he pulls his hips back, leaving only the tip in before fully sliding right back down.
You squeezed your thighs together each time he plunged his cock into your mouth, eyes rolling shut as he started to increase his pace, only pulling himself out halfway now.
“Takin’ me so well gorgeous,” Norman said in a low, husky drawl. “S’like ya’ were made for this”
He was practically humping your face at this point, his own a bright shade of red as pants, and small gasps came from him, flat-out fucking your mouth. Each little noise that came from him made your cunt throb.
Speaking of throbbing, you could feel the way Norman’s cock was pulsating in your throat, deep and shaky grunts starting to come from him. His hips sped up, the sound of his balls slapping against your chin slightly echoing in the spaciousness, the soft gagging of his cock abusing your throat only heard between the two of you, followed soon by Norman’s heavy whimpers, grip on your hair impossibly tight.
His hips stuttered, cock twitching and spasming as he spilled deep inside your throat, trying your best to swallow but you sputtered around him, cum dribbling from the sides of your mouth.
Norman pulled himself out from your mouth, groaning softly at the cool air hitting his sloppy dick as it rested still painfully hard against your equally messy lips, gasping as you stared up at him.
“Impressed yet?” He raised a brow, out of breath himself.
You ran your tongue over your top lip, tasting his bitter release with a smile. “I thought you weren’t gonna be nice? I think you’re being quite boring if you ask me” You teasingly spoke.
Norman smirked, “Who said I was done? By the time m’done with ya’, your body will remember the shape of my cock” He said, snapping himself all the way back down into your throat, not wasting any time before he was fucking into it. He was still a little sensitive from his first orgasm, each bump of his tip pulling a husky whine from him.
It didn’t take long at all before he was already starting to get weak in the knees, each thrust feeling better than the last. He increased his pace, breathing picking up as small whimpers and gasps fell from his lips, a few final strokes before he was cumming down your throat, holding you flush against his navel as you swallowed the best you could.
He pulled out, leaving only the head of his cock on your tongue as he rutted against it, drawing out his orgasm until he was spent, cock softening when he pulled completely out.
You swallowed his load while staring right into his eyes, fluttering your lashes with your bottom lip caught between your teeth.
“Salad can wait. I wanna see wha’s hidin’ under this uniform” Norman said as he suddenly leaned down, scooping you up and tossing you over a sturdy shoulder, strong arm keeping you secure by your middle.
You let out a high yelp at the change in position, bouncing slightly as he trudged out of the kitchen, tugging at your pants as he climbed the stairs. He tossed them somewhere for you to hunt down in the morning, letting out a satisfied chuckle at your round backside, smacking a bubbly cheek. You giggled around a moan, especially when he firmly squeezed that cheek and spread it, helping himself to the view of your soaked panties, a dark red with black lace.
He pushed open a door to a huge and luxurious bedroom, the bed he dropped you on feeling like a cloud pulled straight out of the sky. Norman tore his shirt off, you doing the same as he dipped down, dragging his lips and teeth across your dark skin, sucking and biting as he explored your exposed collarbone.
You groaned and shamelessly wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him down to feel his already-hardening cock against your wet heat. Norman seemed to have something different in mind.
“Wanna sit on my face, sweet girl?” He murmured into your ear, brushing curly hair out your face. “Did so well fer me, gotta return the favor”
“You don’t gotta ask me twice,” You said in a honeyed voice, using your legs to flip your positions.
Norman landed with a small sound, looking up at you as you rolled your hips down on where you had his cock trapped between your two bodies. His hands traveled up to your waist, caressing and fondling the deep skin.
You looked like a goddess straddling him, curly hair flowing everywhere and framing your upper half, Norman’s eyes flickering down to your black bra where your tits were practically spilling out. You crawled towards his face, dragging your core heat up his abs and pressing it on his chest, towering angelically above him.
“I hope you don’t disappoint me” You tease, lifting yourself up onto your knees as you stuff your panties to the side, heart racing a little.
Norman licked his lips, hands squeezing your hips as he watched you toy with your clit. “Wouldn’t be able to forgive myself” He whispered, tugging you towards him.
You lowered yourself down, Norman more so pulling you down onto his waiting tongue, licking a warm stripe up your aching cunt, a pleased moan coming from you as you gripped the headboard, rolling your hips.
He started at your clit, flattening his tongue and giving the puffy bundle of nerves multiple hard licks, waves of electricity shooting through all your limbs, down to your tightly curled toes. He took the small bud into his mouth, sucking hard and rubbing the tip of his tongue against the raw nerves, making you gasp and rut down onto him.
Norman seemed to be enjoying himself, soft groans of his own coming from him as he started to slide his tongue between your folds, teasing your entrance before swirling around your clit, repeating the action a few more times. He used his grip on your hips to steadily rock you back and forth in time with his deep licks.
Eventually, he slid his tongue all the way inside your hole, curling it as well as thrusting it in and out. “Mmm, fuck yes, keep using that fucking tongue in me” You were almost bouncing on his face at this point, passionately moaning as he curled the wet muscle into you, harshly licking as his nose bumped against your clitoris.
His hands encouraged your movements, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass as he plunged his tongue as deep into you as he could. His cock twitched and needily ached, hips slightly jerking upward into the air. You ground your clit down on the tip of his nose, body rolling as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.
Norman could feel you clenching around his tongue, deciding to speed up your nearing orgasm by suddenly slipping out you, replacing his nose on your clit for his tongue, and filling your back up with two thick fingers, blissfully curling right into your sweet spot. You moaned loudly as one of your hands tangled in his hair, gripping roughly. Your body trembled as he fingered you in time with his tongue, bone-crushing weight washing over you as your hole spasmed around his wiggling digits, grinding down on his tongue until you just couldn’t take it anymore, groaning as you could feel your used cunt leaking juices all over his hand and face.
You were both gasping for air when you lifted yourself onto wobbly knees, Norman’s fingers slipping out as you kept yourself steady by gripping the headboard with both hands.
“Are ya’ impressed now?” He asked, audibly out of breath as he licked your slick from his glistening lips.
You scoff, smiling down at him. “A little, but I’d like to get to the main course now,” You said, swinging a leg and crawling off from above him. “No more side dishes”
Norman watched as you discarded the drenched pair of panties somewhere in the room, landing on the wooden floor with a small slap. You yanked your socks up, taking a needed second to ball them together before tossing them as well, starting to grab at Norman’s unbuttoned pants.
He helped kick them off, murmuring to you as he tugged his own socks off. “Forgot ta’ take yer bra doll”
“That’s your job, mister famous” You chuckle as he comes up behind you, hands exploring your bare melanin skin as they run up your sides, climbing and cupping your breast, circling to your back to unclasp the bra hooks. He threw the final piece of garment onto the floor, pulling you flush against his front.
He started sucking on your neck, one of his hands fondling your tit while the other snaked down to toy with your puffy clit. He rubbed his cock between your cheek, biting and licking his way to your shoulder. He pinched and rolled your nipple with his fingers, trailing his lips up the side of your neck and nibbling on your pulse.
You moaned softly when his hand dropped your tit, coming up to brush your hair out the way, gathering it in a tight but gentle grip as he tugged your head back onto his shoulder, dragging his tongue across your newly exposed throat, up the underside of your jaw till he reached your lips, capturing them in his.
Norman’s cock twitched against you when your hand joined the one still fingering your clit, scratching his skin with your nails gingerly as he slowly kissed you, deep and lustful. You blindly reached your hand behind yourself and felt around for his dick, a small grunt coming from him when your fingers grazed his tip. “Ya’ ready fer me?” He murmured against your lips.
“Been ready since I got here” You sass, dropping down onto your elbows with round hips in the air. “You better fuck me like you mean it”
A hand landed on your ass, Norman’s other still holding up your hair, grip a little tighter now as he burned the image of your arch into his head, the hand he spanked you with spreading your cheek, thumbing your pussy as he pressed his tip to your entrance, greedily sucking him in.
He was big, but you were so wet and dripping to the point he just completely slid in, unrestrained groan coming out his chest as his entire cock was swallowed up and wrapped in your squishy walls, almost immediately starting to find a rhythm with his hips.
Norman’s fingers curled into the fat flesh of your ass, “Takin’ all of m’so goddamn well baby girl, could fuck this pussy for fuckin’ days” spreading you apart so he could watch the way his cock was sliding into you and blissfully stretching you open.
“Pound me already, I thought you were gonna be a meanie tonight” You drawl as you roll your head from side to side, pushing back needily against him.
He gripped your hair at the roots suddenly, yanking it roughly to pull you up onto your arms, almost pulling himself all the way out before slamming right into a sensitive bundle of nerves, mewl of pleasure racking your body as he started to relentlessly and mercilessly thrust into your body, so deep that you thought he was actually in your stomach for a moment.
You gasped and sputtered as he pulled you back by your hair in time with his harsh hips, huffing as he started to fuck you with all his strength. Each slam of his hips sent his cock flying into your cervix, each one leaving you more breathless than the last. “Got real quiet all of a sudden girl. This wha’ ya’ want?”
Norman’s fingers were fisted in your hair, the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberated in the large room, bed quietly squeaking as he railed you, watching how each forward thrust of his hips made your ass bounce, a wet sound coming from where his balls slapped against your clit.
“Yes, Oh fuck yes,” You mewl, eyes rolling back as your toes curled. “Harder, I know you can fuck me so much harder” Norman groans at your words, yanking you back onto your knees flush against his front and wrapping a hand around your throat, dropping his grip in curly hair to tightly grip your hip, jamming the entirety of his cock into your body, poking spots you didn’t even know were there.
He quickly resumed his unforgiving pace, pounding into you so deep and so rough, you choked out small sobs with each hit of his tip, gasping as you started to lose air. It was everything Tyler told you it would be and more, dots starting to cloud your vision and prickle under your skin, clenching as you could feel each thrust send you further and further to the edge.
You can tell Norman can feel it too, resting his sweaty forehead against your shoulder as he starts to lose rhythm slightly, pace not faltering as his cock twitches inside you, so tight and hot, your cunt squeezing his full dick like never before. It made Norman’s head fuzzy and a little dizzy, fueling the buzz he had from the earlier alcohol, though he only had about maybe three drinks total tonight. He was purely drunk off your body, letting out a soft whimper as he throbbed, on the verge of his orgasm.
“Feels so good, don’ wanna pull out of ya’…” Norman mumbled as he rocked himself into you, grunting when his tip nudged against your cervix. “Might just hafta’ stuff ya’ beautiful”
You rolled your head back onto his shoulder, his grip around your throat loosening as you cheekily smiled. “Yes please, let’s make a mess” Norman mirrored your expression before reaching down and capturing your lips in a deep kiss, swirling his tongue around yours.
He pulled his hips back, leaving only the tip in before sliding all the way back inside, hungrily groaning into your mouth as he repeated the action, downright stroking his cock using your cunt. "Jus' gonna let me to fill this pretty pussy? Pump you full of all my cum?" Norman groaned, increasing his pace as his hot mouth landed on your neck, his teeth and beard scraping the skin as he continued his deep strokes, still pounding blissfully into you.
"God yes, give it all to me" You moan, rough fingers coming back up to your hair. Norman forcefully pinned your upper half down into the fluffy sheets, his other hand firmly gripping your ass as he fucked into you like an animal, shoving his whole dick into your cunt from tip to base. You let out a high keen with every unforgiving thrust, each one sending you a little closer to the edge.
Norman huskily panted, whimpering a little as he sped up, this time pulling you back onto his cock to meet his hips as he started to really fuck you, now railing into you with all his strength. Uncontrolled whines came from you, eyes rolling as his hand tightly gripped your scalp, each loud slap of his pelvis against your backside sent you lurching forward, only to be yanked back by the fistful of curly hair.
Your walls were practically milking his cock, so warm and wet around him, greedily sucking him in with every thrust, squeezing the entirety of his length as he increased his pace even more, letting out unrestrained gasps and grunts as his hips begin to stutter in their rhythm. “Fuck m’gonna fuckin’ cum” Norman chokes out, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he groaned with each hot drag of your cunt, cock twitching and throbbing inside you as he fucked himself closer and closer over the edge. “Jus’ keep fuckin’ takin’ me doll, takin’ me so damn well”
His words made you tighten up around him, and it was all he need to fly off the handle, tossing his head back as his hips sputtered, cock slipping out of your stretched hole with an audible pop, Norman softly groaning as he came all over your twitching pussy, suddenly pushing himself inside and letting out a loud, shaky whimper, fingers curling in your hair as he started to fuck into you again, followed by the filthy squleching of Norman’s cock sliding into your ruined cunt, his cum becoming a creamy mess were it was being pushed in and out, dribbling down your folds to your clit where his balls slapped lewdly against.
“So fucking good for me, ya’ve got such a perfect pussy ‘could fuck you all day” Norman purred, dipping his head down to latch onto the skin of your already marked shoulder, sinking his teeth into the flesh and shuddering when he seemed to slip impossibly deeper into you. His hand fell from your hair, both palms falling firmly on either side of your head. "Feels like a goddamn dream" He snapped forward, breathing hot in your ear and gently nibbling on it. One of your hands wrapped around his wrist, helpless gasps falling from you with each drag of his cock, feeling the throbbing veins which each thrust.
Your nails curled into his skin, eyes fluttering shut as your second orgasm built rapidly in your gut, whines of pleasure spilling past your lips. You couldn't even speak, each hard snap of his hips knocking the words straight out your chest. Norman roughly groaned in your ear, hotly kissing and licking at your bare shoulder. You were both so close, it only fueled his animalistic pace as he sped up.
Norman fisted the comforter in his hands, the skin tingling and raw from where you dug into it, little half-crescents decorating the back of his hand, and puffy lines sprouting blood on his arm, sweet sobs coming from you with every jab of his cock. Norman buried his sweaty face into the crook of your neck, sucking and biting the skin, his beard scratchy as he trailed his lips up to your pounding pulse. A breathy, shaky whimper came from him as he stuttered in his movements, pressing himself deep as he spilled into you for the second time, capturing your kiss in a greedy and heated kiss, moaning into each other's mouth as he drew out your shared orgasm.
When he pulled out with a slick pop, softly humming as the cold air hit his cock, you were both thoroughly fucked and completely worn out, panting heavily with Norman still halfway on top of you.
“Are ya' impressed yet?” He huffed out, a smirk forming on his face as he tugged your head back.
With a deep exhale and a small smile playing on your lips, you looked over at him with heavy, satisfied eyes. "I guess I am"
。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚
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Okay, I absolutely LOVED writing this request. It practically consumed my life lol. I would definitely be open to more reqs like this where there’s a little bit of a plot, even though I already have so many that are unanswered 🥲🥲🥲
I was really nervous about posting this because I’m just not a fan of the ending but at this point all I can do is hope for the best
THAT BEING SAID If people are also interested in sending in more Norman requests… 🥶🧏🏾‍♀️ y’know where to hmu babe
ALSO SHOUTOUT TO MY FAV POOKIE TYLER WHO DIDNT EVEN KNOW I WAS USING HER AS A WAITRESS I LOOVE YOOU BABYGIRL MY OLDER SISSY FR 😝
。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★
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foolishlovers · 2 months
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CO-WORKER AUs: Below you can find a list of Good Omens AUs in which Crowley and Aziraphale are co-workers. (oh my god they were co-workers)
[Requested by anon. You can request more fic recs here.]
Hit me with your ledger by KissMyAsthma (G, 1k) Corporate accountant Aziraphale has been infatuated with his coworker Crowley for a long time, but he has done nothing about it. One day, opportunity strikes and… Sometimes, an accidental nude is all it takes to score a date.
Get Down by AppleSeeds (T, 3k) When Aziraphale calls downstairs asking them to send up someone to fix the fax machine in his office, he doesn't expect them to send the most handsome and stylish man he's ever encountered in his entire life. Hopefully he won't end up doing anything foolish to embarrass himself.
The Piano Serpent by journeytogallifrey (T, 3k) Aziraphale owns The Flaming Sword, which is one of the premier gay bars in London. Everyone knows this… except for their pianist, Crowley. While the regulars take bets over whether he's the clueless straight person he seems, Aziraphale just tries to prevent himself from falling further. But one night Crowley plays a song written specially to honor their regulars, and Aziraphale can't hold the truth in any longer. How will Crowley react? Will the truth really set them free?
Hold the Lift by CemeteryAngel725 (T, 5k) Crowley just wants to get to work on time, but when he gets stuck in a lift with new guy Aziraphale, he ends up with a lot more than he bargained for. See, Aziraphale has this list of 36 questions…
!False (It's Funny Because It's True) by MirjamOmens (E, 6k) Aziraphale drew a long breath through his nose. Crowley, of course it had to be Crowley. The new guy in the sales department, who would promise potential customers just about anything to close a deal. Arrogant, annoying – and wildly, stupidly attractive. Aziraphale hated him. Aziraphale is a stellar software architect and a project manager, who is so done with the sales department selling unrealistically scheduled and budgeted projects. And he definitely doesn't have a crush on anyone, thank you very much.
Bang This Out? by crepesandoysters (E, 9k) As far as work friendships go, Aziraphale and Crowley have won the jackpot. They work well together and know how to make each other laugh, the whole metaphorical package. They could even be called best friends. Or, at least, they could be called that until today. Today comes with a kiss, and the kiss comes with more. A lot more if it were up to them. Except that their workplace seems to have other ideas.
Cock Tales by TawnyOwl95 (E, 12k) Crowley’s love life is on the rocks so he finally swears off men. Typical that his new job places him with a co-worker who's so straight up sexy. Or in which, Aziraphale tries to mix things up, Crowley is shaken and Anathema is a right stirrer. But could a relationship be worth a shot?
I'm Beginning to See the Light by ineffabildaddy (E, 15k) There was Crowley - the paragon of cool, the overlord of apathy, breezing easily through each and every one of their exchanges and giving no fucks while doing so; then there was the anachronistic, cloying Aziraphale, trying and failing not to live life like a Thomas Hardy protagonist, and giving many fucks indeed. Or: Aziraphale has quite the pash on his colleague Crowley, who seems resolutely disinterested in him. As their annual Christmas party progresses, it appears that Crowley may not be as disinterested as Aziraphale first thought.
Wild Hearts by foolishlovers (E, 15k, WIP) In the idyllic English countryside, far from the hustle and bustle of the big city, two teachers at Willowbrook Hall set out to transform their students’ lives through the world of theatre. But for Mr. Crowley, the challenge of navigating his long hidden feelings and dear friendship with Mr. Fell may prove to be the greatest drama of all.
House Style by soft_october (M, 24k) “Since that's all settled, the real question is did he give you his number?” Anathema laughed. “He was looking at you the way you look at lunch.” “Forget lunch!” Michael declared. “He was looking at you the way you were looking at him!” Aziraphale is content in his job as an editor at Celestial Publishing, though he could go for a bit less of doing his boss' job for him. But everything goes a bit screwy when the CEO brings in a consultant with plans to build a program that will turn the entire editorial department on its head. If only he wasn't so handsome.
All Lines Are Open by TawnyOwl95, FeralTuxedo (E, 21k) Anthony Crowley, bored host of a trite call-in radio show on Tadfield FM, has very few pleasures in life beyond annoying his long-suffering producer Aziraphale. When a caller reports suspicious activity at the abandoned Tadfield Manor, Crowley is determined to investigate, dragging Aziraphale along. Both of them are going to get more than they bargained for. A local radio AU
Heavenly Wicked Cafe by WaitingToBeBroken (T, 28k, WIP) There is a terribly rude barista that makes amazing coffee and a saint of a barista, whose coffee tastes vile. And they are in love.
i've found a way (a way to make you smile) by curtaincall (T, 40k) Crowley worked in Sales. He had never intended to work in Sales. It had just sort of happened. One moment, there he’d been, a newly minted university graduate off to change the world, exquisitely useless Philosophy degree in hand, and now here he was, having sauntered vaguely downwards into a Hell that consisted mainly of cold-calling new customers and sucking up to existing ones.   AU based on The Office.
First Class (Hons) Christmas, University of Tadfield. by heloluv (M, 41k) Dr. A.Z. Fell is a renowned literature tutor at the prestigious University of Tadfield. December is upon the University, and Dr. Fell is leading the Christmas Charity Drive. He needs volunteers. Dr. A.J. Crowley is a skilled plant ecologist who recently began his tenure at UoT. He can't stand Christmas, and nothing at all could ever possibly convince him to partake in "festivities". Until a certain literary expert catches his eye. A Christmas and New Years fic, in which Aziraphale teaches Crowley how to enjoy the most wonderful time of the year.
because thinking makes it so by summerofspock, NaroMoreau (E, 41k) It's supposed to be an exchange. An arrangement. Something to make them both feel better and less lonely. But Crowley's never had the brightest ideas.
Tadfield's Finest by angelsnuffbox (E, 51k) The sleepy town of Tadfield is thoroughly shaken by the arrival of DI Crowley. Where barely anything ever happened before, there is now a bustle of low grade criminal activity, and everyone knows where to point the blame. Gabriel thinks he's a bad omen for the town, many others are quick to agree. Meanwhile, Aziraphale from SOCO just thinks he's hot. Ridiculously so.
Golden Handcuffs by seekwill (E, 70k) Far from any city, near the Scottish coast, Tadfield College has a celebrated history, an unrivaled academic reputation, and two departments at war. When the Biology and English departments are forced to share a building, Senior Lecturer and botanist Anthony Crowley finds himself drawn into the orbit of the polite but strange English professor, Dr. Aziraphale Fell. As the new term begins, two academics navigate the politics of both their offices and academia, and try to solve the puzzle of one another.
Sugar And Spice by SylWritesStuff, ladydragona (E, 95k, WIP) Queer technology giant Anthony J. Crowley is just about ready to throw in the towel after relationship after relationship has failed, but there's a new barista at the company coffee shop and he's cute and sweet and Crowley's never been able to resist blond hair and blue eyes. The tabloids will have a field day, they always do, but his assistant is getting married and a temp is needed. A temp who really isn't very good at making complicated coffees, has past experience in reception, and absolutely no idea that the latest complicated coffee order came from the owner himself. Aziraphale only knows that he's handsome, patient, and was the first person who told him he was doing well. How could he refuse the temp position? Or, he soon discovers, more.
[you can find more fic rec masterposts here]
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skyward-floored · 4 months
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Here’s my (very late) birthday fic for @kikker-oma, it’s based off her art for day 17 of whumptober!
(Which at least one other person has already written a fic for but I didn’t realize until after I’d already started writing it so any similarities are pure coincidence 😅)
https://www.tumblr.com/kikker-oma/731400216730828800?source=share
I hope you like it Oma, happy (very belated) birthday!!!
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Something was wrong with Legend.
Time could see it in the way the teenager walked, his steps heavy and dragging. How he lingered at the back of the group and barely spoke, mostly just nodding along to whatever it was Wind was telling him, and didn’t go out of his way to speak to anyone, his words sharp and vicious when he did.
Normally Time wouldn’t think twice about Legend being a little extra antisocial and standoffish. He was often grumpy (though Time had seen his soft interior once or twice in the brief time they’d been traveling together), and it wasn’t surprising his mood would get a little more severe now and then.
No, the worrying thing was that it had been several days since the behavior began, and it hadn’t gone away yet.
If anything, it had gotten worse.
Legend seemed to get more lethargic and snappish as they traveled across the wilderness of Wild’s Hyrule, keeping to himself even more intensely, and largely ignoring the rest of them. He’d gotten paler too, in just the few days of whatever this was, and Time was only growing more concerned.
It was worrying. Incredibly so.
Time had been keeping a closer eye on Legend ever since he’d realized something was up, and most of the others seemed to catch on that something was wrong as well, but nobody had confronted Legend about it yet. Or if they had, hadn’t succeeded at all in fixing the problem. Twilight had tried to tactfully approach the subject just that morning, and Legend had nearly bitten his head off in response.
Time wasn’t sure what to do, and he wasn’t the only one.
After all, none of them liked to admit something was wrong with themselves— Time himself was certainly guilty of that— but Legend, prickly as he was, was one of the worst. Confronting him head-on about whatever the issue was would only make him more likely to deny anything was wrong at all, as Twilight had already demonstrated earlier.
But someone needed to get through to him, before something snapped.
And later that day, Time finally got a chance.
They’d reached a good spot to stop for the night, Time watching Legend like a hawk the entire trip there. The veteran had nearly tripped on nothing a few times, but had covered it up so quickly nobody could call him out on it.
They had eaten dinner fairly quietly for once, Wild roasting some mushrooms and meat of some kind. Legend kept to himself during the meal, barely picking at his food, and staying out of the conversation. Everyone pretended not to watch, but it was almost laughable how obvious it was that they were all keeping an eye on him, the worry hanging like a cloud over the group.
And Legend seemed to have noticed the increased scrutiny, as later when the heroes were all settling down for the night— cleaning up dinner, getting out bed rolls— Legend stood and told them all he was going to patrol around.
“Really? Are you sure?” Hyrule piped up, and Four frowned from next to him when Legend nodded.
“...By yourself?” the smithy asked.
A very slight edge of concern lay in his voice, and Legend’s shoulders immediately hiked up to his ears.
“What, you think I can’t handle myself?” he shot back in a sharper tone than normal, and Four quickly raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.
“Of course not Vet, I know you can,” he reassured, and Warriors stepped in.
“Exactly. It’s just dark, and we’re in unfamiliar territory, that’s all,” Warriors put in, and Legend turned to glare at him.
“Yet that’s never an issue when Twilight goes off by himself,” Legend snapped. “Shove off Captain. I’m the veteran, remember? I’ll be fine.”
Then before anyone could stop him, he disappeared into the trees.
All of them watched in an uncomfortable silence as Legend stomped away, and Time stopped Twilight when he went to follow him, placing a hand on his arm.
“Best we wait until he’s calmer,” he said, and Twilight exhaled, then sat down. “...And probably best someone who hasn’t made him mad yet go.”
“I think that’s just you at this point,” Sky pointed out, and Time paused, then sighed as he realized Sky was right. Every single one of the rest of the group had been the target of Legend’s ire in the past few days. Time somehow was the only one who had escaped unscathed... which made him the perfect candidate to follow Legend now.
“All right,” he agreed somewhat reluctantly, and settled down to wait.
“Hylia be with you,” Wild muttered as he cleaned his cooking pot. “You’re gonna need her.”
(...)
Half an hour later, as the others either went to bed or tried to busy themselves, Time got up and headed in the direction that Legend had stormed off in.
The moon was large and bright in the sky, and Time almost didn’t need the lantern he’d brought to find Legend’s trail. Though despite the moonlight lighting his path and the assistance of the lantern, it took Time much longer to find the hunched-over figure of Legend then he’d thought it would.
Legend had gone a fair distance from camp, and plunked himself down on a large fallen tree, his head bowed as he stared at the ground. He didn’t react when Time stepped a bit closer, and Time frowned as he watched him for a moment.
Were his shoulders shaking?
Time purposely crunched a few leaves to signal his presence, and Legend’s ear twitched in response. He didn’t do anything else though, and didn’t look at Time when he carefully sat down beside him on the log and set down the lantern.
An owl hooted nearby, and Time listened to it a moment before letting out a quiet sigh.
“They can be an overbearing bunch, can’t they?” he remarked in the silence, the owl going quiet.
Legend flicked an ear, and didn’t respond.
“...They mean well, though,” Time continued when the silence stretched between them. ”They’re not trying to be overwhelming, or even nuisances. They’re... just concerned about you, Vet.”
Legend let out a little huff of air that almost sounded amused.
“Right,” he said flatly. “Well they shouldn’t bother, there’s nothing to be concerned about.”
His hand tightened where it was held around his waist, and Time couldn’t help but notice when it did. Legend’s face seemed paler in the moonlight shining down on it as well, but when he saw Time staring at him, he scowled.
“Go back to camp old man, I’m fine,” he muttered.
Time took a deep breath. Nayru grant me wisdom, here’s where it gets tricky.
“The way you’ve been acting the past few days seems to speak towards a different answer,” he said in a level voice.
“Well whatever it is you think you’ve noticed is all in your imagination,” Legend shot back, clutching his middle even tighter.
Time looked at it again, and paused in what he was about to say as a thought suddenly dawned on him. He couldn’t remember for sure, not everything at least, but if he was right... would Legend really do something so detrimental to his health like that?
“Legend... when was the last time you ate anything?”
Legend’s mouth turned into a thin, hard line.
Ah-ha.
“That’s none of your business.”
“It is if you’re pushing yourself not to for some reason,” Time said, firmness creeping into his tone as he watched the boy. “We have plenty of supplies Legend, why aren’t you eating?”
“I never said I wasn’t,” Legend snapped back, glaring at him. “And even if I am, maybe I’m just not hungry.”
“Not hungry at all?” Time asked with a raised eyebrow, thinking back to the past several days. “Legend, I don’t seem to recall you actually eating anything recently, you can’t just starve yourself.”
“Oh yeah? Well maybe it would be better for everyone if I did!”
Time blinked in surprise, and Legend’s anger seemed to falter a moment, something horribly vulnerable cracking through the prickly mask he’d thrown on. But he quickly tossed it back over himself, despite the tears trying to gather in his eyes, and his expression reverted back to the anger he’d possessed a few moments ago.
“Link,” Time said quietly, and Legend looked away. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. Okay? Would you shove off?”
“Legend,” Time said imploringly, and Legend’s ears pinned back against his head.
“Look I’ve handled it alone before, I can handle it now,” Legend suddenly bit out, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s just— nothing!”
“Nothing wouldn’t make you raise your voice like this,” Time pointed out.
“Well it is!” Legend said in a slightly quieter tone, though it still shook in anger.
Something in Time’s chest ached at the rawness in his voice and the tears that had returned to his eyes. Legend’s lip was trembling, but he was firmly biting down on it to stop it from doing so, and he looked like he was close to losing what control he had left.
Time studied him more intently, trailing carefully over skin flushed with anger, over shaking fists and shoulders, at the hand still held close to his middle.
The shakiness, refusing to eat, the paleness of his face...
Time’s eye widened as a new thought crossed his mind, and he exhaled, reaching a careful hand towards Legend.
“Link, you’re sick, aren’t you?” Time asked in a soft voice, and Legend’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “That’s at least part of this, isn’t it?”
Legend slapped away his extended hand.
“Go away,” he bit out, something truly dangerous in his voice, but Time was nearing the eye of the storm and he wasn’t prepared to back out now. “Go back to camp, wander in the woods or whatever, I don’t care. Just leave.”
“Legend,” Time said, shifting closer. “You can’t keep ignoring this. You nearly fell over earlier, how long have you been feeling ill?”
“There’s nothing to ignore,” Legend snarled. “Just— just leave me alone.”
“I can’t do that,” Time said, his voice soft, but firm. “You need help, and I won’t—”
“I don’t!” Legend shouted, his voice hoarse. He tried to get to his feet, but Time quickly caught him by the wrists, stopping him from leaving. “Just— let go!”
Time shook his head, and Legend tried to jerk out of his hold with no success.
The teenager’s wrists were warm in his grasp, and Time could feel them shaking, though he wasn’t sure if it was from anger or the illness Legend was fighting. Either way, he wasn’t making any headway in escaping, even though Time was sure Legend would have normally been halfway across the forest by now.
Legend tried to swing a fist at Time, but he didn’t succeed in the slightest, the older hero still holding him tight.
“What’s wrong, Link?” he asked, and Legend only struggled harder in his grip.
“Let go!”
Time shook his head, and Legend let out a cry of frustration.
His eyes were glassy with tears as he glared, and his breath came in short pants as he tried desperately to free himself. Legend’s facade of being perfectly fine had dropped in his anger and panic, and Time was now wondering how on earth any of them had missed just how bad things had gotten.
“Leave me ALONE old man!” Legend shouted.
But Time kept holding him, equally gentle and firm as he tried to lurch away. He met Legend’s eyes, stormy and swirling with emotion, and gave his hands a soft squeeze.
“Legend, son, please let me help you,” he said softly.
Legend’s face twisted with rage.
“Don’t call me that!” he nearly screamed, and tried one last time to pull Time’s arms out of his grip.
But he was too weak to free himself, the sickness affecting his strength. Legend couldn’t do anything but struggle, his breath coming in quick gasps, wrists trembling in Time’s hold as he tried to free himself with one last burst of desperation.
Then he crumpled forward, a sob wracking his body.
Time’s eye widened, and he caught Legend, immediately running a hand through his bangs. His forehead was hot where Time’s fingers brushed it, and Legend was shaking so hard he felt like he would fall apart, Time soothing him as he sobbed again.
“Legend, easy,” Time whispered, panic trying to burrow into his chest. He’d never seen Legend like this, screaming and crying and showing his emotions in such a blatantly un-Legend way. And he didn’t exactly have experience with soothing sobbing, feverish teenagers, but Legend was acting so strange...
There’s something else at play here then just a virus, Time thought worriedly, Legend letting out an unsightly hiccup.
All of Legend’s strength seemed to have been used up by their argument, and he lay nearly limp against Time’s arm, shivering, with tears still escaping the corners of his eyes.
“What’s wrong, Link?” Time asked again, careful and soft.
This time Legend didn’t try to pull away or scream at him. He merely let out a quiet breath, one that shuddered on the exhale.
“I... I don’t...” Legend croaked, his eyes squeezed shut. “I can’t... again.”
“You can’t what?” Time asked, and Legend swallowed, tears trickling down his cheeks. Time shifted his grip a little so that Legend’s head rested more comfortably on his shoulder, and waited for him to continue.
“...Care,” Legend whispered finally. His hand tightened where it was fisted in Time’s shirt. “Every time I-I care, someone gets... hurt. I get hurt, I... I can’t again, not...”
He let out a shuddering breath, and his eyes squeezed more tightly shut.
“I don’t want you all to care,” he whispered.
Time looked down at the boy in his arms, shivering and feverish and trying so desperately to fight through it himself, and exhaled.
Oh.
Legend curled into himself at the admission, tears still falling down his cheeks, and Time suddenly saw himself, trying to keep a safe distance from everyone who tried to care for him, afraid of anyone slipping past his barriers and finding the scared little boy hiding behind so desperate for love.
Time swallowed.
We’re all horribly similar, are we not?
“...Being known is a terrifying thing,” Time said after several moments of silence drifted past, voice barely a whisper.
Legend shuddered again.
“I used to think it impossible,” Time whispered. “To be known, but not hurt. Drifting along and staying unattached seemed best, safer. Even when I was in desperate need of help, taking care of myself... seemed like it would hurt less. Without Malon, I have no doubts I would still be that way.”
Time sighed, and looked down at Legend, not even sure if the words were getting through his fever.
“Legend... you don’t have to tell us everything. But we are a team. Brothers, in spirit if not by blood. By merit of those things alone... we care for you,” he said simply. “I have no doubt that if any one of us were in the condition you’re currently in, you would be caring for them as fiercely as anything.“
Time shifted, and met Legend’s eyes, puffy and red, and bright with fever and exhaustion.
“Let us do the same for you.”
Legend closed his eyes and let his head fall back against Time’s shoulder, face scrunched slightly with pain. Several long moments went by, and then Legend let out an exhausted exhale, and gave Time the smallest nod he’d ever seen.
“...Sure. Fine,” he muttered, almost so quietly Time didn’t hear him. “...But only because my head is pounding so hard I can’t... think of anything better at the moment.”
“Trying is half the battle,” Time said with a faint smile, and Legend sighed again, heavy and exhausted.
Time pulled Legend up into his arms, and noted with a bit of worry that Legend was rather frail in his hold, still shivering. And normally the veteran would protest up and down about being carried, but Legend was completely silent, only a few leftover sniffles coming from him as Time hooked the lantern he’d brought to his belt so his hands would be free.
It truly was a miracle Legend had lasted this long without collapsing in front of them all— but Time knew the power of stubbornness when it came to this sort of thing. Malon was still mad at him for that time he’d tried to milk the cows when he’d had that broken wrist.
It was still impressive, though.
I wonder how long he’s had a fever, he wondered as Legend shifted in his arms. One this intense wouldn’t just appear... it must have been at least a day or two.
“...Don’t tell the others,” Legend suddenly whispered as Time began to walk back to camp, and Time looked down at him. “About... you know.”
Time nodded. “The only thing they get to know about is you being sick,” he promised, and Legend relaxed a bit further in his arms.
When they got back to camp, everyone stared, but nobody commented on Legend’s tear-streaked face, or the fact that he was shivering and being carried. Twilight made eye contact with Time, looking at Legend in concern, and Time mouthed the word ‘fever’.
Twilight’s face softened with understanding, and he quickly put out Legend’s bedroll so Time could get Legend into it.
Legend didn’t resist, and the others didn’t directly address the fact that he had obviously been hiding the fact that he was sick from them all. They merely went about their business, occasionally drifting by where Legend was lying in his bedroll, offering a few words, or some food, or just quiet company that offered to place a wet cloth on his forehead.
And when Legend finally fell asleep, he looked more relaxed then Time had seen him in weeks.
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dpr-stay · 10 months
Text
Cupid | LH44
Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, reader is a press officer, don't think gender is stated specifically, implied sexual content, second chance romance, she is not edited, zhou guanyu does not crash, and there are swears.
WC: ~7.7k (kill me now)
I literally hate this, im so sorry. I haven't edited it because it's late but I hope it's not bad. I'll edit it tomorrow. also how is it so longgg, it was supposed to be 5k at best. (why have i written two fics about exes having dinner?)
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Being Valtteri Bottas’ PR Agent was a wild ride. From being hired by him in his early days at Williams, to his successful years at Mercedes, and now at Alfa Romeo, you’d gotten to know the man through all stages of his career. You’d been there to field off questions about his declining performance at Mercedes and had been the first one to slam open the door and start yelling at him after the ‘cheated-on-his-wife’ rumours started floating around.
However, the paycheck was good and, when he wasn’t causing you to spend many nights in meetings about his public image, you didn’t mind the guy, happy to have to follow him around the world for most of the year.
The whole Formula One thing was also a bonus, you having been hooked on the sport after your Dad introduced it to you at an early age. You’d spent countless hours watching your dad watch the car’s speed by on his tv set, finally deciding to pay attention to the race after a few years. And boy, did you love it. 
You’d spent many an early birthday present forcing your parents to take you to the Grand Prix nearest to you, saving up for months to be able to afford the tickets and the travel. Something about the sport just intrigued pre-teen you, nothing to do with Michael Schumacher at all.
So, when the chance to be a F1 driver’s personal PR agent had landed on your advertisement agency’s desk, the place you had worked in the early days of your career, you had snatched it up quickly. The work started well before the start of the 2013 season, you having to meet the man himself and quickly getting adjusted to the many people you’d need to know to network for the guy. 
You’d also met Maldonado’s PR agent, one from the Williams team, who quickly brought up the ideas of doing interviews and press releases between the two drivers. You were swept into the world of the sport, beginning to get into the swing of things. 
Years passed, as did teammates, and Valtteri got signed to Mercedes alongside Lewis Hamilton. You didn’t know if your employment would carry over to Mercedes, but a team shirt and a letter letting you know about when Valtteri’s responsibilities started being mailed to your house confirmed it pretty quickly.
The atmosphere at Mercedes was more professional, though the team still treated each other as family. You’d often see engineers leaving together, going to go get drunk and celebrate Lewis’ common wins and Valtteri’s less common, but still happening, wins. 
You’d often spend hours at a time bargaining for spots for Valtteri in interviews and in PR related spots, and it worked. He was a well-known man, your job was practically done. The bosses were (finally) appeased, Valtteri was happy, and you could finally relax after years straight of stressing about social media and whatever the hell a vine was and if that was still relevant.
And then you’d gone and got yourself trapped in an elevator with Lewis Hamilton. 
Being a Mercedes employee, though only temporary, you’d met Lewis often during interviews and team meetings. However, you never really know a person until you spend five hours sitting opposite each other in a broken-down elevator, only being able to see each other by the light of your phone's flashlight, waiting for some sort of help as there was no signal.
Your conversation had started off hesitantly, you incredibly intimidated by the several-time world champion and him having a fleeting idea of who you were. The conversation had eventually fizzled out till the lift jolted, and a creaking sound echoed into the cavern of the contraption.
Your telling groan that you couldn’t hold back elicited a concerned “You alright?” from Lewis and then you eventually had to tell the professional F1 driver, who raced cars at over 200km/h every other weekend, about your fear of small spaces.
He hadn’t judged you for it, something which you thought was rather nice, and had even tried to adjust for you, moving to the very other side of the small box. Granted, your feet still touched, but you thought the sentiment was nice. 
He was more down to earth than you expected, you knew he wasn’t a prick but you weren’t expecting him to be… kind. Soon enough, after a few more questions about why you were afraid of small spaces and other questions, you both had spiraled into boundless conversation. 
You had talked about things you’d never talked about with someone, let alone a practical stranger, his soothing accent making it easier to open up to him. Things like the future and where it would take you, uncertainties about both your careers, even relationships, the type of conversations you only have trapped in a suspended metal box in the dark. 
Lewis was a fantastic person to talk to. He’d listen when he needed to and returned your conversation with equal energy, as though he actually wanted to be part of the conversation. For some reason he had decided to trust you and had talked freely to you, showing you a side that you doubted many people had seen.
Maybe it was the fact he couldn’t see your face or maybe you just gave off a trustworthy vibe. You didn’t know. All you knew was that, all of a sudden, you were one of Lewis Hamilton’s most trusted confidants. 
Even after someone had finally realised you were missing and exactly where you were, calling more firemen than necessary to bust open the lift though you supposed that’s what you were supposed to do when a ‘Sir’ was trapped in an elevator, Lewis had asked for your phone number and had continued to text you.
You’d met up a few times over the season, quickly becoming incredibly close friends who told each other everything. You’d had to deal with a few teases from Valtteri, who’d shut up when you reminded him who controlled the public’s opinion of him. 
During the off-season Lewis had invited you to come to his house for dinner. You’d went, it was lovely, and then you’d unknowingly experienced the moment of truth in your weird friendship/developing relationship. 
You’d been sitting at Lewis’s dinner table, eagerly chatting to the man about your family, leaning in closer and closer until the both of you were nearly leaning over the table. He’d cooked for you, an act you found incredibly sweet for the multi-millionaire who probably had ten private chefs on speed-dial, and you’d spent the evening wining and dining. 
You had both finished your main courses, talking about everything and anything when a loud bang had come from the upstairs of the man’s house. He glossed right over it, ignoring the loud sound. You had been about to comment on it but, at his nonchalance, you deigned not to. 
The conversation had continued, you both moving from his table to the couch he owned, which probably cost more than your salary earned you, when another loud sound, which sounded suspiciously like a bark, reverberated through his open-plan house. 
He sighed loudly at your questioning look, deciding that he couldn’t ignore it this time. He opened his mouth to speak but, before he could utter a syllable, the tapping of claws sounded against the stairs located, conveniently, in view of his living room. 
You looked up and there stood one of the largest Bulldogs you had ever seen. It was almost majestic, the way that he stood there on the steps, panting as though he’d just run a race. His brown coat was shining in the twilight glow, his muzzle a white colour in comparison to the rest of his body.
He took a few steps down the stairs, tripping on one before regaining his posture. You could only watch in wonder, mouth agape, as the beautiful beast padded down the steps and took a turn, approaching you head on.
The dog was a thing of beauty, his droopy face conveying no discernable emotion except from being tired. He slowly made his way to the couch, you doing nothing but watching as he trotted along the hardwood floors. You didn’t catch Lewis staring at you warily as you were only focused on the thing that younger you would’ve fought a clan of savage chipmunks in order to have.
The dog eventually made his way in front of you, plopping his behind down on the carpet and staring up at you questioningly. You didn’t know what emotion your face was conveying, you only knew it was very silent.
You cautiously reached a hand down to rub between his ears. After a second of your rubbing he made a gruff ‘woof’ sound and you couldn’t help it, an entranced whine releasing from your throat. Collapsing onto the floor beside the dog, you forgot about Lewis, focusing completely on the magnificent specimen of a dog. 
Roscoe, as you’d soon come to know via a fond Lewis, took to you as soon as you took to him. Within a minute the dog was letting you handle him as much as you’d like, rolling over on his back to let you get his stomach and vigorously licking your arm as you pet him. Praises spilled from your lips abound, making sure to let the bulldog know just how much of a good boy he was.
At a cough you turned from your spot on the floor to face Lewis, the radiant grin he had on his face making you feel as though you’d passed a test of sorts. Roscoe also turned to look at Lewis before turning back to you and huffing. 
He moved forward, stepping on your legs, trying to sit on you, before falling off the slope onto the carpet. You then picked him up and cuddled him, trying to keep eye-contact with Lewis as you did so. Lewis’ eyes had turned into half moons as he watched you love on his dog, his smile consuming his face.
“I’m glad he likes you, I don’t know what I would’ve done if he didn’t.” He admitted, placing his drink on a wooden table that stood beside the couch. He then slowly slid from the couch onto the floor beside you, leaning his body down till he was face-to-face with Roscoe and gave the dog a kiss.
“He’s got good taste.” You commented and Lewis released a laugh, glancing up at you.
“Me or the dog?” He asked after a second and you paused, overdramatically placing a finger on your chin and tilting your head as though you were thinking. You then shrugged and he laughed again, you not missing the incredibly familiar twinkle in his eye as he looked at you.
After that, you’d found that Lewis was a lot more eager to meet at his house. Roscoe, accompanied by the sheepish man, was bowling you over nearly every time the door was opened to you. Lewis had also made the trip to your house, though you doubted he’d seen a house as small as yours within the last ten years. He seemed to like it though, settling in quickly and even staying there when you were at work. The off-season had continued like that, casually building your relationship between his training and your many meetings with Alfa Romeo, trying to settle the discussions about your contract after Valtteri’s move.
You’d finally gotten somewhere just before the season started after having to plead to not be replaced by an inside hire, Valtteri backing you up and stating he wouldn’t race without you. Alfa Romeo had accepted and then you finally had the contract you’d wanted. 
You’d left the meeting, Valtteri in tow, before turning around and hugging the man for having your back before you both said goodbye and made your way home and to the gym respectively.
The uber ride you’d hired was peaceful, the man staring straight ahead as you looked out the window, your small apartment building coming into your view. You smiled as you saw it, thinking of the Lewis you’d left in bed that morning, having to pull yourself out before him to go to your meeting. 
The climb up the steps (the elevator didn’t work which Lewis hadn’t complained about when you’d explained it in embarrassment) had seemed to take forever no matter how fast you climbed. When you’d finally made it to your floor, you had to practically drag yourself across the hallway to your door, unlocking it with force after the lock had gotten stuck.
Immediately you could tell something was off, the place seemed colder than that morning and it didn;t have to do with the fact the thermostat had broken a few months ago. All the lights were off and there was no noise coming from within, a telltale sign that Lewis was somewhere within whether he was listening to music or talking to someone. 
That was ok, though, he might’ve been at a meeting like the one you’d had, though you doubted there would be less than 7 zero’s on his contract. But that’s the difference between a big team and Alfa Romeo, you work with what you get.
You looked to the side table, placing your keys in the bowl, noticing the absence of Lewis’ keys. But that made sense if he was at a training session or a meeting, so you continued into the apartment, losing components of your outerwear as you went. 
You’d lost your scarf and blazer as you’d made your way to your bedroom, prepared to change from your business outfit into one of Lewis’ many shirts when you opened your closet. A quick rummage and you couldn’t find any. Weird.
You checked again before moving to another part of your closet and noting the lack of his hoodies or jumpers, which was even weirder as you’d stolen a few of them last week. You turned and moved to your dresser, an old antique wooden piece you’d picked up from an op-shop a few years ago after seeing it and falling in love.
You’d opened your drawer specifically for pajamas and found everything you’d acquired through your time of living independently but Lewis’ shirts. Moving to the many drawers Lewis used specifically when he’d stay over, a small inkling of panic settled in your stomach however you ignored it and opened the drawer.
Nothing. There was nothing left in the drawer. You quickly opened all his other drawers, almost pulling them out of the dresser with the force you were applying. All of them were empty. This caused the inkling to grow to an uneasy pool. Maybe he’d taken them to wash them at his place?
You stepped back from the dressers, incredibly confused and vehemently denying the growing panic in you. You walked, not ran, into your bathroom. The lonely toothbrush sitting on the counter sent a strange feeling, almost like adrenaline, rushing through you. Opening the cupboards under the counter you noted the loss of his extra face wipes and the moisturizers he insisted on using. 
You ran to your kitchen, not seeing anything off, before slamming into the back of the couch in your open plan apartment in your haste to get into the living room. The action caused pain to ring through your shins but you barely registered it, the missing cd’s that normally sat on the table your tv was balancing on that he had insisted were better than Spotify the only thing you were focused on. 
A quick look down the hallway to the door of your apartment only furthered your dread, noticing details you hadn’t seen before. The missing stack of shoes that he normally toed-off at the door and the missing extra wallet he left on the side table in case someone broke in almost confirmed your fears.
But what really set in the fact that he’d packed up and left was the missing leash that normally hung from a hook you’d installed specifically on the back of your front door. The inscribed ‘Roscoe’ on the hook seemed almost mocking from your place on the couch, but you couldn’t really acknowledge it, the tears filling your eyes blurring your vision.
You stood up from the couch and stormed back into the bedroom, slamming the open drawers shut, not hearing the splintering of the vintage wood. You picked up your phone from your bed that you’d tossed earlier in your haste to become relaxed, and opened your messages.
He hadn’t sent anything to you explaining his leaving and when you went to send a text (‘??? Where are you’) the message that you’d been blocked popped up at the bottom of the screen. You could only stare at the screen for a second, the implications of what he’d done sending emotional shockwaves through you. 
You barked out a sardonic laugh, your hand flopping from its position in front of you to be held uselessly at your side, your phone slipping from your grasp onto the floor. The world went still for a moment before you lifted a hand to cover your vision, the tears slipping from your eyes wetting your hand.
You sat alone on your bed that had, not even 24 hours ago, contained what you had thought was your future. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be angry at this point, the grief for something that was evidently never meant to be controlling your thoughts. A long deep sigh left you before it was interrupted by a sob. And then another sob.
You ended up falling asleep alone that night, still dressed in the smart pants and white shirt you’d worn to your meeting. Your only lullaby was your sobbing, not the sound of his gentle humming, something which you kept reminding yourself of. 
Valtteri had commented that you’d seemed sad the next time he’d seen you but neither of you had addressed it past that, him knowing when to keep his mouth shut. He especially knew to shut up after the intense glare you had fixed him. 
The season had started again and, while you were prepared for your duties as a PR agent, Valtteri’s full calendar being proof enough for that, you weren’t sure you were prepared to see Lewis again. Especially after the news that he was already seeing someone else had come out a week before the first race.
You’d returned Valtteri’s knowing glance with as much strength as you could muster and promptly ignored his further pitying look, choosing to feel sorry for yourself at home that night. You’d also ignored his attempts to try to get you to talk to Tiffany, you liked the woman but you didn’t think you should burden her with your ridiculous, because that’s what it was looking back, delusions that you could’ve been something more than just a summer fling to Lewis Hamilton.
You’d successfully managed to avoid Lewis the whole first couple of races, eventually beginning to see fleeting glances of him throughout the paddock. Seeing him for the first time with his partner had hurt but, looking at her, you couldn’t exactly blame him.
She was gorgeous and, after you’d done a bit of searching, was exactly his previous type. She was wealthy and had a respectable job, someone worthy of being with him. You’d made sure to avoid him after that.
You kept on at work though, determined to be the best goddamn PR Agent Alfa Romeo had ever seen. And you were succeeding. Valtteri was getting brand deals and after more positive press around him and his dedication to the sport regardless of his company, you were finally able to relax. 
And by relaxing, you meant getting wasted at a bar. In fairness, last time you’d relaxed you’d ended up more broken hearted than you’d ever been, so releasing some steam at a bar had seemed an appropriate route.
And it was, being able to drink away your sorrows and spill your guts out to a bartender in a small rundown pub in the middle of Canada was the perfect way to unwind. You hadn’t told the whole story of course, you resented the guy for what he did to you but you didn’t want to tarnish his reputation, but it was nice to tell it to some random person who probably didn’t even understand the way you were switching between Swedish, English, and Finnish. 
You’d woken up the next morning with a heavy weight off your shoulders and a nice Canadian man in your hotel bed, sending him off with a promise to call before promptly adding his phone number to your phone. Valtteri could tell something had changed when you’d walked into his driver’s room the next day, prepared to tell him about his schedule. You greeted his questioning look with a smirk and he shook his head, a disbelieving look on his face.
You’d found that you hadn’t thought about Lewis the whole day, when you’d settled into your hotel bed the night after the race. A warm feeling had spread through you at that, the knowledge that the man no longer consumed your thoughts making you feel good inside.
The next race weekend you were ready to go, the British GP making you pumped. You weren’t so pumped when Valtteri DNF’ed and were mentally preparing answers for the Finn as the race continued, briefing him on every response you could think of in relation to the gearbox issue. Zhou Guanyu did well in his race though, so the garage was quite excited for him, even though Valtteri hadn’t finished.
When the interviews had rolled around after all of the celebrations, you were following Valtteri on the walk to his first interview, eventually stopping to the side of him as a mic was held in front of him and the cameras had started rolling. 
Typical questions such as if he was happy for his teammate and if he was happy with the car were asked, some weirder questions such as if he thought the car’s not-working had to do with some obscure political issue before eventually the interview was wrapped up and the Finn moved on to his next interview, you following him.
You could see other drivers beginning to arrive in the area, being interviewed before you quickly looked away, not wanting to see if he was close. You’d managed to avoid him thus far today, how hard could a few more hours be?
You’d thought that before you heard the faint but tell-tale bark of Roscoe and you had to force yourself not to turn around and run to the dog. Lewis had mentioned bringing the dog to his home race at some point while you were together, so you weren’t exactly surprised at Roscoe’s presence. 
Valtteri’s interview was continuing in the background of your mind as you thought over the nights you’d spent cuddled with Roscoe and Lewis. Did you miss him or Lewis more? Did Lewis even miss you?
Valtteri nudged you in the side, his eyes wide and you snapped back to reality, staring at the interviewer.
“Pardon?” You asked, politely trying to make it seem as though you just hadn’t heard them and were paying attention.
“I just asked if Valtteri preferred Mercedes or Alfa Romeo.” The interviewer filled in and you turned to Valtteri, a questioning look on your face. Surely he could handle that question? He vehemently shook his head. Alrighty then.
You brought out both your hands in front of you, prepared to gesture out an answer for Valtteri to say. But before you could a large force had pounded into your back, knocking you to the floor and landing on top of you. The weight was heavy but it was warm and… was it licking you? “Roscoe! Oh my god, I am so sorry!” A voice came from behind you.
Oh no.
While you had been mentally preparing an answer for Valtteri, Lewis had been walking around the media area, Roscoe in tow on a leash. The dog had been restless ever since he’d entered the pen, Lewis echoing that sentiment as he saw a brief glimpse of you. He wanted nothing more than to run to you but he couldn’t with media responsibilities weighing him down.
Eventually the interviewer’s fill of Roscoe was full and he was able to do a little bit of wandering around the area. Lewis had handed the leash of the now-agitated Roscoe to Angela as he went to go answer some more questions, the press incredibly curious about the dynamics of the car.
Angela, bless her soul, had tried her best to wrangle the dog, but his continuous pulling and barking was beginning to annoy some of the media. Seeing this, Angela had decided to just let the dog pull her away, Roscoe almost dragging her as he went. 
He had pulled her almost completely across the room before he got too violent and managed to rip the leash from her hands, leaving Angela stumbling in the dust as he began to run. Lewis had watched this happen, and continued to watch in horror as Roscoe ran up behind you.
One gigantic leap and you were pushed to the floor, the big bulldog nuzzling into your neck. The world seemed to almost go quiet before Angela ran over, trying to grab the collar of the rabid dog, asking if you were ok.
Lewis had started to move over, dismissing the reporter who he was talking to as he made his way to his dog and his ex-lover. He saw you roll over on the floor, a small sad smile on your face as the dog began slobbering over you. A few more steps and he was in front of you, scolding Roscoe and apologising as he effortlessly grabbed the dog’s collar and pulled him back.
You tried not to look in his eyes, knowing all your effort of trying to get over him would be null if you saw his face. You ignored the hand he extended, instead smoothing down your clothes as you sat on the floor, only pulling yourself up when he awkwardly lowered his hand, framing it as if you just didn’t see.
He knew though, he’d developed the unfortunate skill of reading you.
You didn’t look at him as you assured him you were fine and that he should continue with his interviews, only sparing a glance at Angela who looked at you with a regretful hint in her eyes. You didn’t want to think about that more than you had to, waving them off to more interviews. 
You turned around before you could see Lewis leave, thankfully not seeing the longing he had displayed over his face as he turned away, back to his interviews. 
Would you have been able to hold it together if you’d seen the look he’d shot you? No. Were you when you watched it back after the weekend? Also no.
You turned back to Valtteri, cracking a quick joke, before he got back to his interviews. You spent the rest of that day picking gravel out of your palms, trying to forget about the whole interaction. You wouldn’t let this break your progress, the handsome Canadian man in your contacts getting a ring that night as you tried to distract yourself.
After a few days of you cursing Roscoe for trying to see you while also feeling as though you should arrange some sort of custody agreement so you could see the beautiful beast, a notification had popped up on your phone. It was a recommended tweet, a news article about how Lewis had apparently split from his “new fling”. 
That sent you spiraling, questioning why on earth the algorithm had thought to show you this and wondering what you’d done wrong in your past life in order for this to be what was happening to you.
You’d only become more confused a day later, when Angela had sent you an email, saying that Lewis would like to meet up and apologise because of the media backlash. The thing was you’d seen no media backlash, people just finding the dog's enthusiasm funny. 
If there was any sort of trouble, you’d have seen it, it was your job after all, so you were left sitting on your couch, pondering what was the point of the meeting she was trying to set up.
You’d aired the email for a few days, wondering what you should do. You wanted to say yes, to talk to Lewis again and ask him what had happened, but you didn’t want to get hurt again. And you knew you’d be hurt when you saw him doing perfectly fine without you.
The fact that Angela was waiting for you to respond didn’t cross your mind till you received a text from an unknown number, politely asking you to respond. The older woman had waited till she knew you’d read the text, about five minutes, before sending a more desperate text. That had your eyebrows raising unwillingly, confused about why she had sent three “please”’s in one paragraph.
Regardless you fell victim to knowing how hard it was to try and manage a driver's personal and professional commitments and said yes. Only because you felt bad for Angela was what you kept telling yourself.
Eventually the day had come and you were dreading it, lying on your couch until the last second possible. The thought of canceling had popped through your head multiple times but it was too late now. The only way you could back out is if an emergency happened or you died on the way to the private restaurant Angela had insisted on booking, saying that even though the meeting was supposed to be platonic, it shouldn’t be aired to the public.
A deep sigh left you as you pulled yourself up and walked to your bedroom, dressing yourself in business clothes. You wanted to put effort in, but knowing that you’d definitely be embarrassed if you showed up glammed out and he showed up in a shirt and jeans, you decided against it. It was a business dinner anyway, simply to smooth over a wrong that had been committed against you. 
But it wasn’t a wrong, it was Roscoe pushing you over, which could hardly be considered a wrong and was more the dog testing the things he could get away with.
The real wrong was what Lewis had done to you. You hoped that you could get through the ordeal without talking about it, showing up and then posting a picture to Lewis’s instagram or something about how it was all good to appease the critics.
Except there were no critics, it was just Lewis wanting to have dinner with you. Or maybe it was just Angela trying to meddle. Maybe he was going to try to apologise for him ghosting you? You didn’t know if you would accept it.
You might’ve been able to accept it if he’d been honest from the start, telling you that he wouldn’t want you past the end of the break so you could quickly shut down the relationship before it started and move on with your life.
A thought that’d you always try to flush from your mind sprung to the front of it as you wondered. Maybe you were being too harsh. You’d never explicitly expressed what you were, maybe you had just been overthinking it the whole time you were together. Or rather, not together. 
But that would’ve been unfair to you anyways, you reassured yourself. Him letting you get a taste of his future before exempting you from it was a cruel thing to do to anyone.
A ring from your phone let you know that you should’ve been out the door at this point. You quickly cursed before grabbing your essentials and running to your entryway, pulling your shoes on, before grabbing your keys from the side table. 
After locking your door, you ran down the stairs to your apartment building and hailed a taxi. Luckily traffic wasn’t too bad, so you were able to arrive at the restaurant on time, quickly hurrying inside and getting led to your table.
You never had to worry about being late though, as Lewis wasn’t there when you got to the private booth. It was fine, he came from the other side of town so he’d probably only be a few minutes late.
It was about twenty minutes later you’d sighed and decided to ring Angela. Ironically, she didn’t pick up. You couldn’t help the bark of a laugh that left your throat, shaking your head at the sad reality of your situation.
Ghosted by two members of Mercedes. Maybe it was a good idea for Valtteri to move when he had, otherwise they may have just stopped picking up the phone. You gave him ten more minutes before trying Angela again. The same response. 
At this point you were sick of being made the fool of. Perhaps it was your fault for believing your dispute could be resolved, your fault for believing you were worth showing up for. You stood up with a pressure at the back of your eyes and began the walk from the private booth all the way at the back of the swanky restaurant to the exit.
Before you got even five meters from your table, the door to the restaurant slammed open. Everyone turned to stare at the heavily breathing world champion as he took a second to recoup himself. He didn’t let himself look at anyone in the restaurant as he straightened his suit and turned to the host, who looked a little shell shocked. A quick exchange later and the host stepped back from the little podium he was stood behind. 
You quickly scampered back to your seat, making it just in time and plastering an unimpressed look over your face. Looking back up, you could see Lewis scanning all the patrons of the premises before his eyes paused and locked onto you. 
The simple action of making eye-contact, a luxury which you had refused yourself during your bump with Roscoe, sent a lick of emotion down your spine. You couldn’t exactly read his face, you didn’t know what he was choosing to display or doing unwittingly after being played by him for months, but you believed he was relieved. 
When he arrived at the table he waved off the host with a small ‘thanks’ before sitting down in the seat opposite to you. It was silent for a few seconds, you both continuing eye contact. You were trying to find anything you could recognise in his eyes while he was just looking at you, at your face. 
“I’m sorry for being so late.” He spoke finally, a slight tilt growing at the corners of his lips. You didn’t respond and the awkwardness won him over after a few more seconds, something that was quite uncharacteristic of him. He coughed.
“The lift wouldn’t work, I’d left my keys, then no one would pull over. I tried to call you but my phone died, so I just ran trying to get here.” He said and averted his eyes, a mannerism you’d recognised as a nervous tick the couple of times you’d seen it. You didn’t know how to reply so you let your emotions take hold.
“Your call wouldn’t have gone through.” You said blankly and he looked back to you, before chuckling awkwardly. You didn’t find it funny.
“You would’ve had to unblock me first.” You needlessly elaborated, getting some sadistic enjoyment out of the way the man squirmed. He continued his awkward laughing, you joining in to laugh sardonically.
You didn’t know where this feeling, of needing him to a sliver of the uncomfortableness he’d caused you, had come from. The feeling you got from his discomfort wasn’t pleasure though, it felt empty as though it was pointless in the long run. You supposed it was, he wouldn’t remember you in a few years and your small petty actions wouldn’t even matter when he married the princess of some country. 
He cleared his throat, drawing your attention from your musings to his face.
“I wanted to apologise.” He stated bluntly and you raised an eyebrow. Yeah, no shit. He caught your expression and winced. 
“I should’ve had Roscoe on a tighter leash and not have given him to Angela. It was my fault-” You tuned him out as he continued, shaking your head in disbelief. Yeah sure, it was why the meeting had been arranged, but you’d genuinely thought he might’ve talked about the elephant in the room at some point. Maybe you were judging harshly though. Maybe after a few minutes he’d start talking about the model he’d piped the other day or the Albanian billionaire who wanted to be his sugar mommy.
You’d forgotten that he could read you like a book and had stopped when he realised you were no longer paying attention. He reached over the table to wave a hand in front of your eyes, an action that was very rude, and you reacted accordingly. You turned to face him, affronted, and he smiled at your expression before his face turned serious and he breathed a deep breath.
“I didn’t know if you’d want to talk about what had happened.” He said finally, staring down at the table, and you scoffed, crossing your arms in front of your buttons. You started to talk, the words leaving your mouth before you could properly think about them, hurt blurring your thoughts.
“Of course I would love to recount the time I came home and I found my place ransacked.” You said, the fakeness of your enthusiasm leaking into your words causing him to flinch.
“I’d love to talk about the messages I sent you before I realised I’d been blocked. Sure, let’s talk about how, not even two weeks after telling me you thought we’d have a future together, you’d completely left me, without a word of discussion.” You finally let out, almost strangling your throat closed so as to not let more of the hurt out. This was a work-related dinner after all and you didn’t want to draw more attention than Lewis already had.
His face had fallen, an incredibly unfamiliar look coating his face and you tried to stop yourself before you spoke, trying to tame the biting uncertainties in your head.
“Was it because I’d moved companies?” You questioned and he looked up. “Should I not have followed Valtteri?” Your question floated in the air and he shook his head, a sorrowful expression taking over his face.
“Then why?” You asked after a second and he paused, not responding. You, tired of his silence, thought about all the reasons you’d gone over in your head, and settled on the one that made the most sense to you. Looking back, it was probably the most unrealistic, but it made sense to the angry and sad mindset you had.
“Was it because I couldn’t afford everything?” His head snapped up, shock colouring his features. “I could’ve moved to a new apartment if it bothered you, having to stay over at my place. I knew you didn’t do a lot of things that break because I couldn’t pay, but you could’ve told me if you wanted to. I do have a savings account I could’ve dipped into.” You said quietly, looking down at the table, all the fight having been sapped from your body. 
You were tired. You didn’t know what the time difference was between you and Canada, but you were sure that you could set an alarm and wake up to spill your guts to the stranger, it was better than telling anyone you knew. 
Lewis called your name but you didn’t look up from the table, hoping to not see any form of confirmation in his eyes. He reached a hand over the table, this time to not be rude but to lift your chin up and look in your eyes. He contemplated for a second before speaking softly.
“I thought it was what you wanted.” He said and you reared back, completely shocked before he continued.
“You kept going to meetings with Alfa Romeo and I thought it was your subtle way of telling me to fuck off. You know, that you had more important things to worry about than a driver from your old company. We’d never talked about what we were and I just thought…” He paused for a second here, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked at the wall before looking back into your eyes.
“I thought I could bite the bullet, leave before you could tell me to go. And it worked in the end, you’ve been doing exceptionally well. I haven’t seen a bad story about Valtteri in months.” He said and withdrew his hand as he leaned back against the chair behind him.  You processed his words for a moment before he cleared his throat, drawing you back to look at him.
“I would never, by the way.” He disclosed quietly and you tilted your head. He continued. “I don’t mind if you have the money or not, for that break your apartment was the best place for me.” 
The use of the present tense threw you off for a second, leaving you to rearrange yourself in your seat and clear your throat as you thought of a response. You couldn’t, opening your mouth but no words coming out. He’d stunned you into silence. You finally found your voice after steeling yourself for a second. “W-what about umm… what was her name?” You asked, a stutter permeating your words. He just sighed, letting his head fall slack to stare at the table. 
“It was a mistake.” He said quietly, and guilt for the poor girl rushed through you. “I thought that after I’d let you go I should at least try to find something as a replacement.” He looked up at you.
“I couldn’t though, no one could match to you. But I couldn’t leave her without a reason.” 
He leaned further back in his seat, his voice terse as he spoke. “She gave me plenty of reason after I caught her in bed with her ex.” You winced at the tone of his voice and gave him a second to collect his thoughts. Even if he was trying to break it off, it’s never a good feeling to be cheated on. 
You spoke up after a second, trying to clear the silence between you and deciding he should know about your fling after you’d ended if this dinner was going to way you thought it was.
“I met a man in Canada.” You said hesitantly and you saw his shoulders drop.
“Oh.” He said quietly, before shaking himself out as if he was a cat and plastering a smile on his face. Lewis made eye-contact and asked you a question.
“What’s his name?” Fake-enthusiasm permeated his question, as though he was trying to hide his disappointment. 
You didn’t want to address that, though you knew you had to. Could you take him back? You didn’t know for sure if he would leave you again, which scared you. The whole idea of taking him back scared you, though the thought of more time with him that wasn’t spent trying to avoid looking his way made you hopeful. You tried not to feel that way, knowing that you shouldn’t base your happiness on the man.
But he had apologised and explained his reasoning. As much as you wanted to curse him out for not talking with you, it did make sense. Feelings of inadequacy were present in every person, no matter how remarkable they were.
Look at you, already being hypocritical over your own words. You’d said you didn’t know if you’d take him back, but now you were already planning it. Was that pathetic? You didn’t like to think it was, but maybe you were wrong, ignoring your dignity in favour of the man.
God, if only the world was more simple and less complicated. If only you hadn’t gotten locked in an elevator, if only Roscoe hadn’t been as adorable as he was, if only you’d said no to this dinner. If only you’d just talked about your feelings from the start instead, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.
Too late now though, you supposed, snapping back to the present and leveling eye-contact with Lewis. You contemplated your words, knowing they’d probably either be the start or the end of your time with him.
“I don’t remember.” You said finally, staring at Lewis’ face as a smile that he tried to contain spread over it.
“You don’t remember his name?” He asked, almost trying to confirm his words and you shook your head. He couldn’t control his smile, trying to mask it behind a cough. You only started to grin in response, looking into his eyes as they slowly turned back into half-moons.
A cleared-throat startled you both out of your bubble and you turned to the waiter, who looked as if he had just watched a soap opera play out in front of him. He awkwardly held out menus to the both of you and you quickly accepted them, apologising for making him stand awkwardly for so long.
When he’d left you both had looked at each other and exchanged smiles. The dinner had continued and it was as lovely as Lewis himself. That is to say, very lovely. 
After paying and making the walk to Lewis’ house, you both stumbled into Lewis’ abode, not able to keep your hands off of each other. However a large obstacle had stopped you from taking it further, namely the heavy weight of the british bulldog that decided to settle himself on top of you the second you’d walked through the door.
You could barely hear Lewis’s laughter over the sound of Roscoe licking the side of your face, you muffling your own laughter into the carpet. 
When you’d next seen Valtteri, he’d only taken one glance at your neck before shooting you a smirk, the knowing glance he had on his face making you roll your eyes as you pushed him to his interviews.
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i got stuck halfway through but i just wanted it overrrr. Hopefully it's not too bad, let me know in the comments.
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