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3rachasdomesticbanana · 8 days

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Among Strangers II | Han + Bang Chan

Synopsis: You know nothing is ever as it seems. You never assume and you always expect for things to get a little messy. You didn't expect for things to end up like this though. Not like this...

Pairings: CEO Bang Chan x AFAB Reader x Han Jisung

Content Includes: smut, non idol au, light bondage, possessiveness, biting/marking, oral (m+f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie lots, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mfm, angst, jealousy, light fluff, happy ending.

an: there's a lot going on in this one and I'm sure I missed some content to list. If you feel that I should add it please let me know♡ Also forgive me if this doesn't do justice to part one... I tried ಠ⁠﹏⁠ಠ

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

PS: Those who asked to be tagged/asked for part 2 are tagged. If you want to be removed please let me know.

Also thank you to everyone who expressed their love for part one. Even if I didn't respond, your words meant more than you can ever imagine, more than I can even say♡

It's been a whole week since that steamy, unforgettable encounter with your hot new boss, Chris, in that crowded subway car. Now, every time you catch each other's gaze at work, it's like reliving that sweet sinful moment all over again. The memory of his hands on your skin and the warmth of his chest pressed against your back still lingers. The tension between you two is palpable, and your cheeks flush hot every time he brushes past you in the hall. His playful smile, those charming dimples, they only add fuel to the fire that continuously burns in you and the physical reactions your body has when he's near.

You've tried avoiding him but he's everywhere. Every turn there he is, dark eyes, hair perfectly styled and outfit tailored in all black perfection looking runway ready. Each time you've seen him and turned to walk in the opposite direction, there he is. It's like he spawns in front of you and there's nothing you can do but blush at the sight of him as he walks away with some important looking people. It isn't until Friday at the end of your shift that he catches you in the staff break room when you go to get your thermos from the fridge.

“You've been avoiding me, y/n ” Chris states, his voice low, walking into the room and shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

You spin around startled, heart in your throat and too stunned to speak. The top three buttons of his black dress shirt are undone and his sleeve have been rolled up halfway. He looks breathtaking and the sudden sight of him throws you off. You didn't see much of him today so you figured he either was too busy or just left earlier but here he is looking just as sexy as he did that day on the subway. The way he’s looking at you right now you don't trust yourself being alone with him. Not while still being at work where there's a risk of anyone catching you two. Swallowing nervously you back up as he starts to walk towards you smiling.

“Do I make you nervous y/n?” He asks, getting closer to you. Your heart is pounding far too fast now. It would be a miracle if he couldn't hear it himself. Why is he making you react this way?

“No.” Your voice comes out small and weak as you lie. He can see the way your chest rises and falls rapidly that you're full of shit.

When he reaches you, your back is against the counter and he cages you with his arms, hands on the edge of the counter. You smell so good to him and he loves the soft blush on your cheeks. He wants to see it deepen while he's deep inside you. Every time he saw you earlier in the week he could feel his cock stiffen at the memory of your cunt around him. He wanted nothing more than to take you and bend you over his desk.

Just yesterday he lost it when he saw you in the hall wearing all black like him. He couldn't help but wonder if you did it on purpose. The tight black skirt that reached your knees hugged your curves and the blouse you wore made his imagination run wild. He took his erection in his hands in his office thinking about how pretty you would look on your knees with all of him down your throat.

“I could have you right here, right now y/n. I want to. Do you want me to?” You bite your lip and nervously look at the door behind him. “It's locked. Just say the word.”

You open your mouth to speak only to close it and nibble on your lip with your face full of uncertainty. It isn't that you don't want him. You positively want him in the worst way, in every way possible, yet you hesitate still. He's watching you, still smiling sweetly waiting for your answer and you can't help but notice the barely visible freckles that pepper his handsome face. They go from his cheek bones and up around the outside of his eyes like stars. You're lost in his beauty when you notice how red his ears have gotten and he chuckles.

“Like what you see y/n?” He teases trying to sound cocky but there's a shyness to his words. You take him by surprise when you nod and finally speak up.

“Yes. To both of your questions. My answer is yes.” You tell him and his brows go up in surprise before his hands are on your hips and he's kissing you, groaning when your lips make contact.

You wondered how those lush full lips would feel on yours and it's like nothing you could've imagined it to be like. His lips are soft and taste of strawberries as his tongue glides over yours before he nibbles on your bottom lip. Just with a kiss he makes you feel weightless, like you're suspended in the air. As the kiss grows more intense you can taste his need and Chris is lifting you up sitting you down on the countertop standing between your legs.

“Fuck y/n, do you have any idea how crazy I was feeling the whole week without hearing from you?” He asks after pulling away from your lips. “Nothing I did satisfied my hunger. Only your cunt can do that.” He kisses you again and rubs his hard bulge over your clit through your dress and hitches up the hem.

He reaches between you both and with his fingers rips your thong like it was made out of paper. Your moans are loud with shock but muffled by the kiss. He pulls back and looks at you with eyes like embers and kneels between your legs. He wastes no time in diving his hot tongue inside of you. He shows no mercy on your cunt and it doesn't take long to feel that electric sensation in you build but he stops just before you can reach your climax. He growls “no.” when he feels your muscles tighten around his tongue.

He looks up at you, his neat hair now a mess because of your greedy fingers and he says, “You'll cum on my cock again. I've got to feel you bear hug my cock like last time y/n.” He says standing up straight, flicking his belt out of the loops and it falls to the sides as he begins to unbutton and unzip his slacks. “I'd bound your wrist with my belt if I wasn't so fucking desperate to feel you.” With a clack his pants hit the ground and he snaps into your drenched sex hard.

In one thrust he's completely inside of you with a groan deep in his throat from the pleasure. Your eyes are on the ceiling, mouth hung open in a silent Oh. A moan that got stuck somewhere in your throat, lost in oblivion. You forget all about where you are, only that you can finally wrap your legs and arms Chris's muscular body and grind your pussy into him as he fucks you instead of having to be restricted. His cock feels so much lengthier this way and each time he bottoms out your moans get so loud you have to bite down on his shoulder over the neatly pressed black cotton of his shirt.

“Fuck y/n, I knew you'd feel amazing around me like this. Free to move, free to… ah. Free to crush me with your thighs.” He tells you and his arm wraps around your waist tighter. “Come back to my place after work tomorrow baby.” It's not really a question, though if you said no he wouldn't force you. He knows your mind is so muddled with lust and passion that you'll agree. Because you need him right now, because you're so close.

“Yes! Oh god Chris fuck. Yes I'll come. Fuck i'm gonna cum.” You gasp. Every breath leaving your lungs is cut short with each of his rough thrusts and he smirks against your neck.

“Yeah baby, thatta girl. Cum on Chris's cock. You can do it for me. Be as fucking loud as you want. No one can do anything about it. This building is mine and so is this pussy.” He grunts, his body trembling.

Although it's only the second time, you've noticed that he sets claim to you when he's close to cumming. When he really relaxes and lets go, he loses all of his composure.

“Y/n, don't hold back princess, I need to hear you. I wanted to hear you moan my name on that fucking Subway to let everyone around us know that it was me making you feel good.”

Instead you bite through the fabric of his shirt harder making him hiss and slam into your cunt harder than he has. The sensation makes you come crashing down shuddering and whimpering into his shirt as your cunt convulses around his cock. He keeps his thrusts going, pushing past your muscles that tighten. He's groaning loud, not caring about who walks past the break room door. Every curse, every praise can be heard by anyone within fifteen feet of the room.

“That's it. Fuck, oh yeah baby keep cumming for me, don't stop beautiful. Make a fucking mess on my cock.” He groans, slamming his cock into you and rotating his hips.

He could very well cum right now, fill your pussy just like he did last week but he's holding back because he wants you sore and spent when you go home. He wants your mind on nothing but his cock until he sees you again.

“Mm fucking hell. You like that don't you? Yeah I can tell you do. Your pussy tells me just what I need to know baby girl.”. He breathes, voice sounding strained.

He feels like he's going to go insane. The veins in his neck, arms and hands are prominent showing just how hard he's fucking you and how much he's straining himself. It's taking a lot for him to hold back and wait for you to cum again especially when you arch your back like that, eyes shut, mouth hanging open and whispering his name over and over. It's a beautiful fucking sight to him. He should've waited until he had you in his bed but soon as he saw you step off the elevator and walk into this room his feet were moving. He meant every word when he said that nothing could satisfy his hunger except for your cunt but now he's not even sure that'll do it. He still feels like a starving man even now that he's balls deep inside of you, ready to coat your walls white.

“Gonna cum, I can't- mm! I can't… I can't fucking hold it anymore y/n, shit!.”

You open your eyes and find his eyes on you, round and glassy like he's high. His face and ears are red and his bottom lip is pulled in-between his teeth grunting into you. You feel his cum filling you up and the pressure sends another orgasm ripping through your body. You're both shuddering and out of breath and equally both craving more.

“Shit that was fucking intense y/n.” He whispers, still feeling your cunt fluttering around his cock like butterfly wings.

The clock on the wall behind Chris reads 7:40pm and you should've been home an hour ago but right now, Chris is intent on helping you clean up. Brushing a soft clean handkerchief that he pulled from his pocket over your sensitive core sending jolts throughout your body and his sly smile says how much he's enjoying himself.

“I think you're enjoying yourself too much Mr. Bang.” You tease watching his hands between your legs. He chuckles and looks up at you, stuffing the cloth back into his pocket along with your shredded thong when he's done and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“I enjoy myself plenty around you y/n if you haven't noticed. I'm sure I'll enjoy myself even more. Meet me in the parking garage tomorrow after work?” He asks and you nod. “Sweet then I'll see you then.” With a wink he leaves you alone in the break room blinking and shaking your head with a small laugh.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

With a groan, your body sags against your front door soon as you step foot into your apartment. Kicking your heels off you watch as they clatter and go skidding across the hardwood floor. You're in need of a hot shower, it's been too long of an evening for you on top of work and Chris cornering you in the break room. Never in your wildest fantasies did you think you'd be doing something like this. All because you fucked your boss in a crowded subway car.

You shake your head at the memory of the moment he showed a glimpse of who he truly was that day. He knew you worked for him before he even made a move. That didn't stop him and as you walk further into your apartment you wonder if he'll regret anything in the long run. Lost in thought you're oblivious to the large shadowy figure standing inside the dark bathroom waiting for you to walk past.

Soon as you're past the open door the figure emerges and a hand goes around your mouth while the other traps both of your wrists, holding them behind your back. The screams you let out are muffled as you try to shake free but it's useless. Whoever has you is strong and they're not letting go. Your only option left is to fight. Fight to win just like your friend Minho taught you. As you raise your leg, intending to kick it back, a dark whisper against your ear stops you cold.

“I wouldn't do that y/n.” Says the voice, raspy and deep.

Your eyes go round at the sound of your name like that. It's full of such anger and venom. It turns your blood icy.

“Fucker! Let… Go.” You mumble loudly but it just sounds like, “Mm! Mmpf.. mmm.”

Your captor laughs darkly behind you and holds you tighter making you groan uncomfortably by their strength. “I'm loving these noises that you're making y/n. Is this all it took in order for me to hear you sound like this? Shit, baby.”

You roll your eyes and when you smile, the man lets your mouth free to speak, “Jisungie baby, I always sound like this for you.”

Your boyfriend Jisung chuckles and licks your neck right over the hickey that Chris gave you last week. The color has faded some but Jisung will just bite and suck the same area to make it come back.

“That's my lovely baby. You're going to be loud for me aren't you jagi?” He asks, still buried in the crook of your neck. “I need you baby. Need you so bad. Need to remind you whose pussy this is. God it's always so hot watching another guy enjoy what's mine.” You feel him smirk on your neck.

That damn smirk. You almost said fuck it that day in the subway train car when he looked at you like that. That smirk always makes you wet. It's so cocky, so confident, so… Jisung. This game the two of you have, has been going on for so long you never know when it starts and ends or if it actually ends for that matter. The plan is always the same, pick up a guy at the bar and bring him back home where Jisung sits in the shadows to watch you get your back blown out. Afterwards he fucks you even harder than the guy did all with the warm cum of another man still inside you. It's a win-win you think. You like being watched and Jisung loves to watch. But that night you ran into Chris was a pure accident. Since it was the middle of the week the bar was dead. Boredom muddled your mind and when you saw that your boyfriend was behind you, you had the brilliant idea of playing cat and mouse. You just didn't expect to get fucked in public let alone to be fucked by your boss.

“I'm relentless, am I now? hm? That's what you told him that day right lovely? Hm?” He hums against your neck before biting down over the mark making you gasp that soon transitions into moan trailing off into silence. He sucks down hard and when your body turns to liquid he's picking you up and taking you into the bedroom you share.

“Yes…” You hedge and he smirks again before kissing you rough.

“Mmm gonna show your pussy just how relentless I really am. Do you still feel his cum inside of you my love?” Jisung questions you sweetly. You told him about why you were late when you got into your car to drive home. He was mad he didn't get to watch but you knew he'd be waiting at home, hard and in need of your sore pussy. When you nod he bites his lips. “Fuck.”

He tosses you onto the bed and is on top of you before your body can stop bouncing. His hands roam all over your body like he hasn't memorized every inch of it over the past 4 years you've been together. Jisung undresses you, tossing your clothes into the open closet. When he sits up to take his shirt off you catch him off guard by biting his left pec. His legs shake and his arms fly around you.

“Again jagi.” He demands, twisting around and falling back onto the bed with you on top.

His chest is littered in bite marks and his erection is now too painful for him to handle. You take care of him, removing his baggy black acid wash jeans. Your aim isn't as good as his and when you toss them over your shoulder they hit the wall. You both laugh at your clumsiness and his eyes are so full of love. You love your boyfriend, never once has any man you've slept with threatened the bond you two have. Jisung has never been jealous even when you're arching your back and moaning while someone else fucks you senseless. Because he knows that this is where you always end up in his arms.

When you take his cock into your hands still smiling wide while lining him up with your entrance, he caresses your body and whispers, “I love you my baby.”

With a smile that grows as well as your arousal you sink down taking every inch of him and moan, “I love you too Jisung.”

You ride him until your legs wobble, two orgasms in and he still isn't ready to let you go. He wasn't kidding when he told you he'd show just how relentless he is. Flipping you over onto your back he fucks two more orgasms from you and only then does he cum. Claiming your body and heart as his. Neither of you plan on moving from where you are, too spent to lift your heads off the pillow. But after a quick nap your activities resume. Following into the shower, to the kitchen and back into the bedroom until late in the night.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I don't know Ji, should we really keep this going? He's my boss, this is different than some rando in a bar babe.” You sigh, holding your phone in your hand.

Today was your off day but Chris got your number from your file at work and texted you wondering if you were still down to meet up. You were having second thoughts about the whole game now. This could get really messy if it starts conflicting with work. Jisung walks over to where you stand in the kitchen and wraps you in his arms.

“What is it baby? Are you afraid I'll get upset? Why would I when I know that the only one that can fuck you right is me.” He gives you a cocky grin and kisses your forehead. When he looks at you again he's got a serious expression on his face. “If things get to be too much we'll stop, baby. I promise.”

You nod, still feeling a little indecisive but not wanting to worry Jisung. He needs all his focus on this song he's writing for a big client of his. Some guy named Seungmin, who's a pretty big deal you've been told. It's just nerves you tell yourself. You're just nervous since Jisung won't be around like he normally is. It's definitely not because you're worried about how Chris makes you feel.

“Come straight home after you leave his place baby. I'll miss you if you stay too long.” He pouts a little, making you smile.

“You know I hate being away from you for too long, Ji.” You tell him before leaving the apartment.

The whole drive to the parking garage of CBO your heart would not stop racing and your hands, sweaty on the steering wheel, began to shake when you pulled into the dim garage.

Get a hold of yourself y/n, shit. If Ji isn't worried then no reason I should be right?

Your little pep talk in the car is cut short when you see Chris walking out of the elevator looking hot in a plain black tee and black jeans. Your heart skips a beat and you force yourself to move. When he spots you stepping out of your car his reaction to you wearing a white tank top and denim jeans is just about the same as yours only he becomes instantly erect at the sight of you.

“Sup gorgeous?” He greets you, putting his hands in the front pocket of his jeans, giving you a cheeky lopsided grin.

You giggle and feel yourself relaxing at how casual he looks and talks to you. “Sup yourself Chris.”

“Come on let's get out of here before I fuck you in the backseat of my car. I don't think I can keep my hands to myself seeing you looking like that.”

He walks in the direction of his car and you mutter under your breath, “Feeling's mutual Bang.” Too quiet for him to hear.

Twenty minutes later you're underneath him, a whining begging mess, tied up to his bed and overstimulated beyond your limits just like he's dreamt about. He's brought you to the brink of cumming so many times you've lost count. You're not even sure how long you've been in this bed, you're only aware of the sounds that Chris conjures up from you and the satisfied moans of his that follow.

"Please Chris.” You whimper when he pulls his cock out for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. “Mm! Please let me cum. Please, please.” He looks down at you with bedroom eyes and trails a hand down the length of your body.

“Nah, don't wanna. Ceebs baby. Think I'll just leave you like this.” His smile spreads ear to ear when you widen your eyes and he starts laughing, throwing his head back. “I'm just kidding, beautiful but you should've seen your face.”

He comes plowing into your cunt with so much force that the headboard bumps the wall and you're screaming out his name. Chris smirks with each long quick stroke inside of you, getting just what he wanted. For you to lose control and let go. He needs to hear his name being spilled out from your soft lips that he can't stop kissing as if you were his girl. The way your body shivers when he grinds his pelvis hard over your clit makes him fuck you even harder with possessive primal moaning growls.

“Call me baby.” He demands out of nowhere gasping and kneading your breast in his hands as he looks down at you.

Without thinking you do it. It's impossible to not get swept up in the heat of the moment, to do any thinking of your own right now. So you call him baby. Over and over you say the name and watch as it has a physical reaction to him. Like a button that's been pressed Chris puts his all into fucking you.

“That's it baby girl. Sounds like heaven from your lips. Fuck, ah! Gonna cum y/n. Cum with me yeah? You're gonna cum with me. Yeah, yeah like that.” He sucks in air between his teeth slowly before gritting them. His jaw muscle flexes and you feel his cum spraying inside of you just as your own orgasm bursts through you.

It felt so good to Chris. To have you in his home, in his bed. It felt… right. Felt even better having all of you to himself. He only kept edging you simply because he didn't want the night to end so early. He knew you'd leave his side soon. When he finally drove you back to your car it was like torture to him. He couldn't pull away from you and ended up fucking you in the back seat of his car.

By the time you get home, poor Jisung doesn't know what hit him. You're on him as soon as you walk in the door. Sex drive still high, cunt still needy and the guilt of calling another man baby simmering inside you. Although Jisung doesn't complain, he feels this sudden odd feeling begin to gnaw at him. He's never felt this type of emotion. It's strange and foreign to him it's starting to piss him off but he bites the feeling down, pulling you closer to him suddenly afraid of letting you go.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The difference between Jisung and Chris is like being struck by lightning from both sides. No bolt is the same but you'll still burn from the inside out. With Jisung his moans when he fully lets himself go are whiny, desperate, needy just like your own and the random grunts and growls here and there when his orgasm builds always echo in your mind pushing you to reach your own peak. It's like diving off a cliff into the ocean, it swallows you up. Chris, he talks a lot more, praises you through gritted teeth with a low feral growl at the end of almost every sentence. He's the epitome of alpha male commanding your body to experience an earth shattering mind altering orgasm with a single word.

And night after night Chris commands your body. You return home to Jisung after spending a few long hours with Chris after work and you never get back home in one piece. Not without some new mark on you. Whether it's from his mouth or the pretty white ribbons he ties your wrists and ankles with, there's something. Ji always covers them up with his own markings with a growl and claim to you. “Mine. Naekkeo.” Jisung will moan, filling you up as many times as he can.

Tonight will be no different when you go home. You're currently tied up in Chris's bed with his tongue buried in your cunt as you cum with so much force you pull hard on your restraints not caring that they dig into your skin. You hear Chris laughing, feeling his breath breeze against you all while your legs are shaking on his shoulders.

“That's my girl. You're so delicious y/n. Shall I have another go? I'm still hungry.” He says, with amusement in his voice, raising his head and licking his lips.

“Chris please. I can't… that was the fifth orgasm you've given me with just your mouth. I'm too sensitive and far too out of breath. Let's call it a night please?” You beg in-between your panting breaths.

“Only because you said please and you look so cute like that. Why don't you stay the night babe hm?” Chris smiles down at you, freeing your hands from his headboard.

“I can't, I mean… remember I told you I don't feel comfortable.” You stutter rubbing your wrist looking down at the bright red line that goes all the way around.

“Right. My bad angel, no worries. I'm sure I'll wake up to your beautiful face soon.” He winks smiling like he's got some juicy secret that only he knows about. “Need a ride?”

Shaking your head you look up at him, “It's okay I drove.” You reply smiling sweetly and once you're dressed and not walking like a newborn fawn, he kisses you on the head and walks you out of large home.

When you get home you barely have it in you to take a shower. Every step you took, you could still feel Chris's mouth. His hot tongue, his beautiful lips sucking your clit. You're still too sensitive and it's a beautiful torture. As soon as you're out of the shower you fall into the bed with Jisung right behind you sliding up to you cock out and hard but you're too tired. You feel bad about leaving him to take care of himself.

“I'm sorry baby he spent two hours eating me out and I'm so tired.” You tell Jisung groggily and he pouts, taking your hands in his, kissing your wrists.

“That fucker.” He mutters under his breath angrily. He's upset but not with you. “It's okay though sweetie, you sleep.” He rubs his nose over yours and kisses your lips making you smile.

“I love you Sungie.” You mumble before drifting off to sleep peacefully.

Waking up is anything but peaceful though. Jisung is pissed and shuffling around the house pouting with his brows furrowed and a dark aura around him like some anime villain.

“Baby?” You say and there's silence. “Ji?” Still nothing. “My Han and only?” That does it and he cracks a smile while shoving instant ramen in his mouth, pointing his chopsticks to the plate of breakfast he made you. “What's the matter Hannie?”

He chews still pouting and you can't help but smile at him. His cheeks puff out when he gets like this but you know after breakfast he'll fuck you in the kitchen and he'll be okay.

“That fucker Bang.” He grumbles.

“I'm sorry about last night, baby.” You say taking a bite of watermelon.

“He's been keeping you later every time for the past two weeks and when you get home you're so sore that I wonder if I'm hurting you or we can't do anything at all. I haven't fucked you in two days. Don't go today, baby. Stay with me.” He confesses and you get up to sit on his knee.

“Of course I'll stay baby. You know if you don't want me to go that's all you have to say. I'll text Chris later and let him know.” Jisung nods and nuzzles your chest with his cheek like a cat.

“Sweetie… you don't like fucking him better than me do you?” Jisung asks, suddenly making your heart crack.

“Of course not baby. Why would you even think that?”

“I… uh. You were talking in your sleep last night and moaned his name.” He says.

Oh so that's why he's so mad… Now you're the one pouting.

“Never baby. I'm sorry for my brain. You know it has a mind of its own.” You say and he laughs hugging you tight. “You're going to make me do more than moan your name aren't you Sungie?”

“Mmm lovely you know I am.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Breakfast long forgotten Jisung has you bent over the table staring into your reflection of the closet door across from you. Its surface is a mirror from ceiling to floor and you can see the pure desire on his face from behind you.

“Fuck.” He whispers, rubbing your ass in a circle after smacking hard and chuckles when you give it a shake. “I want you to watch me fuck you.” He tells you low and tender.

He slides his cock into you with a groan, throwing his head back before looking at your reflection. He loves seeing your cheeks turn pink from pleasure, loves how your lips poke out making him wish there was two of him so you can wrap your lips around his cock while he fucks you like this. He starts moving and you grip the side of the table hard with a gasp. You're sore still but you both love it when your swollen like this. You have a feeling this'll be a quickie but your boyfriend will worship and cherish your body all day long, making up for the two days he didn't have you.

“Gotta fuck his cum outta my sweet lovely baby.” Jisung says picking up speed. He groans along with you when you push back into him meeting his thrust.

“Jisung!” You gasp and he chuckles behind you.

“See how you look baby? You see why I can't ever get enough of you huh? I really needed this. Needed you, y/n baby” Jisung slaps your ass and then rubs his hand over the redness.

He repeats the move again each time he rams his cock into you. Over again until you're falling flat onto the table and letting out a long groaning moan and cumming around him.

“Yes.” He whispers, extending the word before he loses his ability to say anything more.

He's fucking you just as hard as Chris does all while moaning uncontrollably, breathing heavily and digging his fingers into ass as he grips it tight. God you love the sounds he makes. He's always been the noisiest man you've ever slept with, never shying away or holding back and you found that to be the sexiest thing ever. What started as a one night stand between you and Jisung years ago became what you have today. Four amazing years.

“Oh? My baby's gonna cum again. Hm? Hm baby? Oh God. Fuck y/n. Yeah rub your clit just like that. Gonna fill you now baby.” Jisung grunts, pulling you back into him as he thrusts forward three final times, feeling you reach another climax before throwing his head back, freezing and spilling his cum inside you.

That's how your day goes with Jisung. Spoiling you not just with sex but love. Deep inside you know it's because he feels like he has to do better than Chris, be better than your CEO boss but he doesn't need to do any of that. Can't tell him that though. Once he sets his mind to something, he sees through it till the end.

With Jisung on the phone with his client Seungmin, going over the song he wrote for him, you decide to message Chris and let him know you won't be able to come over tonight before doing some light chores. Ding! Your phone notification goes off from the coffee table while you wash dishes in the kitchen.

“Ji baby, could you check that for me please? It's probably Chris. I let him know I wouldn't be coming tonight.” You call over your shoulder. It's nothing new, you two always check each other's phone whenever the other has their hands full. However this is the first time a message has actually angered someone in the relationship.

Jisung scoffs staring down at your phone, feeling the rage and jealousy build up inside of him. He's seeing red at the short text message in front of him. The room is quiet and you're unaware of all the sudden anger that's seeping out of Jisung but inside of him is so loud.

“No worries, my baby. If you need me you know who to call.” He spits out in a mocking tone making you turn around in shock.

You've never heard him like this. You watch Jisung pace the floor grabbing his hair in his hands and you quickly go to him. Placing a damp hand on his shoulder carefully, he looks at you and you finally see it. Past the anger in his eyes there's uncertainty. He really is worried about losing you. Worried that your boss is trying to take you away from him and it's been eating him up inside silently but for how long? Why couldn't you see it before? Why didn't he just tell you that was how he was feeling? Communication, that's what you two always lived by.

“Sungie baby…” You whisper.

“Who does he think he is huh? Your boyfriend? No. I am. You're not his. You're mine.” He kisses you roughly before you can speak.

You moan against his mouth when he slips his hand over and under the band of your leggings and finds that you're not wearing any panties like you normally do at home. He growls and bites your bottom lip before plunging two fingers inside.

“This pussy is mine, it won't ever belong to another. Isn't that right sweetie?” He asks, breathing heavily like he's just ran a marathon.

“Yes baby, all yours. Only yours.” You breathe, legs shaking as he fingers you and kisses you hard again.

That night Jisung fucked you harder than ever. It was like he was a possessed man, it wasn't him but you'd never admit that you loved it.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Though he was still feeling a little jealous, Jisung still encouraged you to go to Chris's but this time he'd go with you and wait in the car. That's why you're tied up and blindfolded in Chris's room on your knees in front of him. You can hear his feet shuffling around but you just assume he's cleaning up after he filled your throat with every inch of him, fucking your throat until he came. He's been pretty easy on you tonight. You're not sore and the ribbons don't pinch so much.

“So babe, did you miss me?” He asks, coming to stand in front of you.

“I did.” You answer honestly.

“Yeah baby?” He purrs and you feel him get down to your level. “Did your boyfriend fuck you good the other night?”

Your mouth pops open comedically and Chris laughs kissing you on your head. A thousand thoughts flood your mind, jumbled and frantic.

“Yeah, I know about Jisung beautiful. When I ran a background check on ya he popped up. I've known ever since that day after we met. He's a great songwriter at the company. Pops was right to hire him.” He confesses and you're too stunned to speak but he's not quite done.

“What surprised me though was that the so-called creep following you that day was your boyfriend. It's a fun game you two play, so I'll go along with it for however long you want.” He stands up, lovingly caressing your head. “Because I know that despite you going home to someone else, it's my cock that you're thinking of and lusting for.”

He fucks your mouth again but denys you when you ask if he's going to fuck you now. Instead he unties you and reminds you that your boyfriend is waiting for you in the car. You're fuming when you get into the car. Jisung doesn't quite know how to handle the situation at the moment, not while he's driving. It's not until you're home that he takes care of you once you're both home in bed. Laying in bed post climax, Jisung has the most ridiculous idea that's ever come out of his mouth and he's said some crazy things before.

“How about a friendly competition between men? Chris and I take you together and see who's the better man. You know, just for fun.” He smirks to himself laying on his arm and looking up at the ceiling. “If he can't handle it, then game over Christopher.” He says and laughs at himself before rolling over and burying his face in your tits.

“Uh, yeah... I don't know if he'll be down for that Hannie but if that's what you what I'll relay the message.” You reply and thread your fingers through his hair. "Just remember he's responsible for our paychecks."

You're certain Jisung is just joking or if he isn't he'll change his mind. Right? There's no way he'd go through with that idea but isn't that how this game you two have going on started? One crazy idea from the genius mind of Han Jisung. Could you handle it though? Having both men inside of you? The thought made you nervous and excited and honestly you were kind of hoping that Chris would agree. And to your surprise, he does. Now you're in a coffee shop talking about a threesome. How did your life get to this?

“You're a crazy man Han Jisung.” Chris says, leaning back in his chair. He's looking every bit of the CEO that he is in the small cafe that he agreed to meet you and Jisung at. There's an amused smile on his face as he takes a sip of his freshly pressed juice. “But you're on. Obviously this is just for shits and giggles. In the end whatever y/n wants goes.” He continues and smiles at you flashing his dimples.

“Of course what my baby wants goes. Anything to make my girlfriend happy.” Jisung responds, placing his arm over your shoulders possessively pulling you closer to him.

You sit in silence looking between both men amused and intrigued. The conversation shifts into one of more intimate topics: You. Specifically your body and who would be where inside of you. Your whole face and chest flush pink at how casual they talk. They actually seem to be getting along well when they comment on what you like and don't like. Both men know your body so well. Probably even better than you know yourself.

“So it's settled then. My place the day after tomorrow? Let's say… around 8.” Chris says looking pleased with himself. “I don't plan on losing so it may be a long night. I figure 8 will give you time to rest before princess.” He looks at you and winks before getting up from his seat to leave. “See you two then.”

When Chris is gone you turn to Jisung, doubt in your chest. You need to make sure he really wants this. This will get messy quickly if more jealousy seeps it's way back into the mix. You don't want to lose Jisung so you double and triple check with him on if this is really what he wants to do.

“Are you sure you wanna do this baby?” You question taking in your boyfriend's features as the sun from the large storefront window makes him glow radiantly. The brown in his eyes pop, looking like the cup of coffee in your hands.

“Lovely, I could ask you the same. Please don't do this if you don't want to. I know you love me naekkeo.” He brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles. “Don't feel like you have to do this for either me or Chris, okay?”

You smile and nod feeling your heart bloom in your chest. You hit the jackpot with Jisung. Have you gotten wealthier with Chris too?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The room is silent and a gentle breeze from Chris's open window stirs your hair around your shoulders. You didn't think you'd feel so nervous but you're shaking with anticipation as you're kneeling on Chris's large bed naked for both him and Jisung. Biting your lip, you sit up on your knees straddling Chris and wait as Jisung comes up behind you. Taking your hips he lubes your ass and his cock up, making things slippery so it's easier for him to enter you. Slowly he guides himself into you from behind all while kissing his way down the side of your neck, pausing to bite down gently on your shoulder. You're moaning and crying with pleasure once your boyfriend is fully inside of you. All the while Chris lays underneath you. Watching you and stroking his cock, caressing your left thigh with his fingers.

“You ready baby?” Jisung whispers behind you in your ear.

Your body reacts, shuddering around him and his groans are felt against your chest. You feel his cock pulsating inside of you and you feel desperate for movement. Nodding your head Jisung guides you down onto Chris who lines himself up with your entrance nice and slow. Excruciatingly slow. Just the tip of Chris's cock is inside of you and you're whining at the pinch and stretching sensation. Brief doubt that you can take them both bubbles up in your mind but you push it aside and keep pushing down taking the length of him in carefully.

When Chris pushes up helping you take the last remaining inches, your back arches and you cry out. Not from pain although you can feel that sting of being fully stretched but from pleasure once both men are fully sheathed inside of you. It's a strange blissful feeling, their cocks pressed tightly together with only the thin wall of your flesh between them. With Jisung taking your breasts in his hands, Chris sits up and guides the movements like the leader he is. It's just a natural thing and the three of you seem to fall into that unconsciously. Thrusting and moving your hips along with his guiding hands until a synchronized rhythm starts. It's slow at first, far too slow for you and it becomes hard for you to relax your muscles around each man.

“Fuck me.” You grind out, sweating and already breathless.

There's a shared moan between Jisung and Chris that vibrates through you and echoes in the quiet room. You don't give them a chance to respond, you're moving for them, taking over the pace. Fuck does it amazing, that fullness. Your orgasm is quick and you're groaning and writhing with pleasure cumming hard.

Your head falls back, landing on Jisung's shoulder while he still keeps his push and pull in and out of your ass all while you cum around Chris's cock. His thrusts force your body to continuously rock against him, heightening the sensation and pleasure all together. Chris grunts and fights back to urge to cum with you, determined not to lose against Jisung. Both men, stubborn as hell would gladly fuck you all night long trying to last longer than the other but you're not sure how much longer you can keep up. Your legs would've given out long ago if you weren't held up by Jisung's arms as he cradles you, pumping his cock into you.

“Fuck, I can feel everything baby. God keep cumming. More baby.” Jisung groans in your ear, coaxing you.

Your whimpers make both Chris and Jisung feel absolutely insane. Chris in particular is struggling watching your face. How your features contort beautifully with each synchronized thrust, it's like seeing the stars for the first time to him. He feels his balls tighten and he knows that he'll lose as soon as you cum around him again. You're already babbling incoherently but it becomes even more crazed and hard to understand when Chris places a firm thumb over your clit. Your whole body tenses up and both men curse and grunt in harmony and it's such a beautiful sound.

“Mm y/n. Shit, shit that's a good girl. You're close baby girl. That's right cum on my cock again.” Chris whispers and bucks his hips up off the bed causing both his and Jisung's cock to ram up harshly inside you.

“Ah, fuck!” You cry loudly holding onto Jisung's arms and clawing at him. Legs shaking, eyes rolling in the back of your head and with a strange tortured groan your second orgasm erupts from within you.

It's too much for them, you feel so much tighter than before and their own orgasm happens with no warning. Both your cunt and ass are being filled at the same time and the feeling is phenomenal.

“Ah! fuck naekkeo… F-fuck me!” Jisung groans and the sound shortly turns into a long winded whine.

“Oh shit y/n fuck. So beautiful, so fuuucking beautiful.” Chris breathes and growls, thrusting upwards more. “Yeah that's- mm! That's it baby.”

Fuck a bet you need to experience this everyday. Is this what addiction feels like? They're still inside of you, cocks softening while slowly dribbling the last drops of cum into your sore and stretched holes but you want them to fill you up even more. As completely fucked out of your mind you are, you still don't want to move from where you are. Two pairs of hands caress your body, relaxing you after the intense full body orgasm you just had. You feel so loved and taken care of. It's an overwhelming feeling and a tear falls from your eye and down the side of your face onto Jisung's shoulders.

“Sweetie? What's wrong, does it hurt? Here I'll pull out first slowly.” Jisung says worried voice tender and full of concern.

Once he's out and moving to stand beside the bed he picks you up, pulling you off of Chris's lap and gently lays you down beside the man who's looking at you wide eyed and terrified that he might've hurt you.

“Y/n babe, where does it hurt? Tell us beautiful. Please?” Chris pleads when you start fully crying.

Shaking your head and covering your face you take a deep breath trying to calm down. “I'm sorry boys, I'm okay. I'm not hurt, I'm just… fuck. That was just amazing. I felt so overwhelmed and I don't want this,” you wave your arms around gesturing to the three of you. “To end because the bet is over. I also feel like shit for wanting that but…” you trail off looking up at the ceiling laying on top of black silk sheets.

The room is silent and when you close your eyes you feel Jisung slide into bed on your other side. For a minute, the three of you just lay there listening to the cars drive past outside through the open window. You don't open your eyes until you hear laughter on either side of you.

“What's so funny?!” You say turning your head back and forth to look at Chris and Jisung.

“Oh my gosh she's so cute. You're a lucky man Jisung.” Chris says, wiping fake tears from his eyes.

“Thanks bro. That she is.” Your boyfriend says and you sit up suddenly wincing at the soreness.

“Okay not that I'm complaining but where the hell did this sudden bromance come from?” You question, which only makes them laugh even more. Crossing your arms you pout and wait for their laughing to subside.

“My baby, my angel, my lovely... We're two men who only want to make you happy and cherish you from head to toe,” Jisung kisses your shoulder when he sits up. “How could all that not have been a bonding moment between all of us? I'm down to do whatever makes my baby happy.

“Yeah, no worries gorgeous. I mean granted we… ya know, work out a better routine or something, this arrangement can work out I think.” Chris agrees and takes your hand in his playing with your fingers.

You're touched that they care so much about you to even agree with what you want let alone agree so quickly. Could this three person situation actually work though? Or have you just made things a whole lot messier for yourself?

••••••••••••••••One Month Later•••••••••••••••

“Babe! Could you tell Ji his client wants to run a few ideas for the song when you get back to CBO please? I've got to go to a meeting in a bit.” You hear Chris call out to you from the shower.

Walking into the steamy room you see his body fully submerged under the spray of the water. You try to scare him but he's fully aware of your presence outside of the glass and he opens one eye in your direction smiling at you.

“Can you also tell him that I can't keep wiping the cameras so you two can fuck in the stairwells. Poor security guard had a front row show last week. I'm still jealous.”

Giggling you lean towards him past the open glass for a kiss that he returns with a groan. “Fuck y/n you know what your laugh and those lips do to me. Keep it up and we won't get any work done and Jisung will be pouty all day.”

“My bad babe, you just look so good wet.” You giggle again and now he's pulling you into the shower with him fully clothed.

You squeal when the warm water soaks the flowy white summer skater dress you had just put on and Chris's mouth is on your neck lapping up the water and nibbling your flesh. His hands are quick lifting the dress up and over your head letting it fall to the tiles in a loud splat just outside the door. His cock is inside of you before your hair is even fully saturated with water. The loud wet sounds and your moans echo throughout the bathroom as Chris holds one of your legs up and fucks you up against the shower wall. Your hands slip and slide over his bare back feeling every muscle shift with his movements.

You let out a loud moan when you hear the door creak open to a heavy lidded Jisung in a black blazer, white tee and jeans, standing there looking into your eyes and watching his girlfriend get fucked by another man. He slowly grins and saunters into the room, eyes still on you until he reaches the counter. There, he continues to watch you, watch Chris's cock quickly slip in and out of your cunt. His grin grows when you struggle to keep your eyes on him and the flush to your cheeks deepen. When you reach your hand out to him he shakes his head and chuckles deep.

“Take his dick like a good girl, lovely. I'm a patient man. I'll fuck you after until your body is dry and your pussy is dripping on my cock.” Jisung says and you feel Chris laugh while he sucks down hard on your breast.

Jisung rubs his hard cock over his pants and your cunt locks down around Chris's length making you both breathe out a soft moan.

“Fuck Sungie.” You whine with a pout, reaching out to him again but he won't be swayed that easy. He's used to waiting his turn while watching you.

“No, no naekkeo I'm not here remember.” He says sitting up on the counter next to the sink, getting comfortable.

Chris begins to thrust into you harder, taking your other leg and wrapping it around his hips. “Mmm, you heard the man baby. Take my cock so he can fuck my cum out of you when I'm gone.”

Chris's words make you shiver all over and you lean your head back onto the wall behind you giving in to the sensations Chris's cock and Jisung's eyes give you. Some days they take turns, some days they share you together but in the end both men would have worshiped your body inside and out. It's been a month now having this strange relationship with your two boyfriends and your heart isn't the only thing that feels full everyday. Sometimes messy isn't always a bad thing.

@resi4skz, @msauthor @thesarcasmqueen-22 @skzworldx @turtledove824 @jisungsbammey @brojustfknkillm3 @rixenluv @cookiesnmilfx @tirena1 @redlikemysoul

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sehodreams · 3 months

Text

sex money feelings die - fourth visit

third visit ↬ fourth visit ↬ fifth visit

WC: 4.1k

TW and Tags (permanent for the story): rich client!Anton x stripper!reader, smut, fluff (?), a touch of angst for the moment, inexperienced reader, fingering, kissing, lots of silly conversations.

Summary: Working at a night club was difficult in many aspects, your sleep schedule was messed up for life, your feet were more used to high heels than sneakers and you had to lie about where you went to work those nights. Still, even with all those cons, you didn't hate your job, you had more than enough to pay your bills, feed your brother and save money for his college. However, what happens when your boss makes you do the one thing you asked to never do.

Without noticing you had started to wait for your Mondays and Fridays.

You were glad that you could quickly see Anton when he said goodbye on Fridays, but Mondays felt more difficult even if the difference was only one day.

Your conversations continued like usual but now instead of finishing with Sungchan abruptly opening the door to get you out he’d knock twice before saying his line behind the door, giving you the time to pull yourself together instead of scaring the shit out of you.

You didn’t ask him why he had changed his method, but you could guess it had something to do with Shotaro, and you didn’t mind that he had ordered to give you more privacy, but what did bother you was what he had told Sungchan to convince him, and what he thought you were doing inside that room.

You were no longer just talking on Mondays, the routine had changed to tell him about random stuff until you had no interesting topic and he, seeing that you didn’t feel like talking anymore, covered your mouth with his until the time was up.

Sometimes you forgot what you were planning to say on purpose.

And, even if you hadn’t made further moves apart from kissing, you couldn’t look at Sungchan in the eyes when you gave him his coffee, your mind repeating you that he no longer saw you like the same good girl.

‘’Angel, all good?’’ He said after two weeks of you avoiding his eyes.

You bit your lip and gripped the thermos on your hand. He was giving it back to you like he always did at the end of your shift. You were naked under your robe, and you were no longer wearing makeup so you couldn’t feign the same confidence you had on stage. ‘’Am I still your angel?’’ you asked.

Sungchan grin came back to his face, and he laughed for almost a minute at your flushed cheeks visible without your foundation covering them. He gave you a soft hug from the side, patting your shoulder and meeting your eyes in the mirror, you not avoiding him this time.

‘’Always.’’

None of the girls mentioned the birthday incident, they already got some ideas but didn’t feel like pressing you, you were the young kid always talking nonstop around the local, but since you didn’t say anything about him, they decided to just wait for you to approach them.

You could feel their eyes following you when on Mondays you walked to the VIP room, all of them now noticing how you had a long private show booked at the same time the same day every week, and you thought about breaking your silence and telling them, but it was a obscure path, you didn’t know how would they react, now you obviously did more money than them and you hadn’t show any signs of change in yourself for them to see it, but Shotaro was fixing the place and buying better alcohol that wasn’t as mixed with water, so you didn’t know how long you would be able to maintain your arrangement with Anton a secret and you free of problems.

‘’The stew isn’t orange anymore, it looks like blood’’ your brother got you out of your thoughts.

You turned off the kitchen and saw that, indeed, the stew had changed colors.

You tasted to see what was wrong with it, but you couldn’t even swallow with the bitter and spicy flavor invading your mouth and knocking back your senses.

‘’Shit, sorry, you’ll have to buy dinner today’’ you sighed.

Your brother nodded, he didn’t like how you made that dish anyways, so he gladly accepted the bill with an open hand.

‘’I have to tell you something before I leave’’ he put it in his pocked while you drank a glass of water to erase the taste. ‘’I earned the scholarship.’’

You spat your drink over the sink.

‘’What?’’ your eyes got wet and your heart started to beat loudly against your ribcage, too shocked to even breath properly.

‘’I won, I’m the best of my year.’’

You denied with your head still not believing his words, and after a long minute of your tears falling down your eyes and you trying to breath properly again, you wrapped him in the tightest hug you could give him.

‘’FREE COLLEGE’’ the two of you started to jump while hugging and you stayed like that, from swinging from one side to the other and circling, until you started to get nauseous of how excited you were and he had to leave for his first class.

You couldn’t wait to get to work and tell everyone, except, when you saw that it wasn’t Monday or Friday, a sense of disappointment filled you.

Anton didn’t know you had a brother, you knew a bit about him, like that he enjoyed going out with his mother when he visited her in the States, or that he had a little brother too, but you had never reciprocated the conversation with information about your family, it wasn’t that you were ashamed or anything, but it was a step you didn’t know you were ready to take, so he tried to keep the deep topics aside to not make you uncomfortable, and even if you had liked to know a bit about his home, you didn’t feel it correct if you couldn’t do the same.

You sighed, you couldn’t think of him like someone you could tell good or bad news, you had to maintain him entertained, nothing more.

Telling your close coworkers was enough, they weren’t your friends, but they were the closest thing as friends you had. After school finished everyone went to follow their own path, and when you tried to mix with them again all the conversations were focused on how college was treating them, if they had a campus crush or if they had bombed an exam, but those were things you couldn’t relate to, and soon you lost all contact with them.

When you arrived you jumped to Sungchan’s arms and he spined you until you had to tap his back so he let you down before your lunch betrayed you. You told the news in high voice and everyone around that knew your name, even one new girl that didn’t know you that much, congratulated you.

You were practically floating from one side to another, and not even in stage you could hide how happy you looked.

‘’Good day?’’ one of your regulars, a doctor, asked when you, on your knees, about to unbutton your nurse uniform, were smiling a lot more than normal.

‘’Great day’’ you confessed.

‘’I’m happy for you sweetheart’’ he answered, caressing the side of your cheek and pushing two bills of a hundred into your bra, ‘’I hope you continue having them.’’

You imagined he was Anton until you finished your dance.

Regulars were always a nice thing to have, of course they had to be the correct kind, you had seen how some of them were dangerous or brought problems with their wives screaming to get their money back, but that was none of your business, and since you were more selective with them now, you always did your best to avoid the bad kind.

Sometimes you let them have a little touch, Shotaro had put an advice that clearly said it was prohibited for them to do it unless the girls allowed it, and you had learned who to let have a taste of your skin after many months hearing the girls.

‘’You don’t need to know they’re married, but you need to know they’re not crazy.’’

‘’And how do you find that out?’’.

‘’We still don’t know, but what we have seen is that most of them are rich.’’

Yes, your regulars had to be pretty much rich if they wanted you to spare them some of your time.

You had your methods to discover their careers and marital status, sometimes you just had to act like you were a cop and ask them for their wallets for them to willingly give you their IDs.

Married, single, divorced.

You never accepted married regulars.

To learn what they did you just tried to remember their names, and if they didn’t want to give you their IDs you just had to whisper some pleads about wanting to make their deepest dreams come true for them to say it.

Sometimes it made you sick how much they fantasized with their coworkers, but you preferred to know that they had stable jobs than to be followed by a creep telling you to give them back their money if you wouldn’t accept his love.

There were special cases in which you could just smell it, all the girls developed that ability after some time. You weren’t sure how, but there was something about the texture of their hands or the smell of their aftershaves that helped you to identify them.

You still remember the first time Anton and his friends arrived, they looked like the typical group of college boys that wanted to experiment a crazy night after exam season, but just with one look all you noticed how they weren’t the normal group. Their confidence while steeping in, the dirty look to the menu or the normal seats, even how they asked for different drinks, ‘’just in case, don’t you have Blue Label or at least Chivas Regal?’’

Shotaro had to sell them the precious untouched Blue Label he had in his office for years, more a decoration than anything else, for them to not leave.

However, now that you noticed, you all knew that Anton was rich, but none of you knew what he did to live.

When Friday came, you were decided to discover it.

You were too ashamed to use the cop method, you felt bit embarrassed to show up with that outfit, certain that he’d laugh at it instead of finding it hot.

The whisper was the only option, but that usually required of you taking off your clothes, and even if he had seen you naked before, since starting your conversations you had never flashed the skin under your bra to him again.

It was impossible to even think another method now that you had him on your side.

He was the one who started all the intimacy, so he had gotten closer like he usually did, a hand over the sofa behind your shoulders and pulling you closer, slightly covering you from the neon lights to only look at him and his rosy lips.

He definitely used a better lip balm than you.

‘’What are you thinking about?’’ he asked seeing that something was wondering inside your mind before he closed the distance. You, without noticing, had started to pull his shirt every time you wanted him to kiss you, and you unconsciously had done it the minute you arrived, but he didn’t notice the same desire in your eyes, it was more like you wanted to call his attention even when you always had it.

‘’Nothing, just that it’s sad that sometimes I forget things I want to tell you about’’ you said, making him smile.

‘’Sometimes I forget them too, I wish I could come and see you every day’’ he replied, pushing your hair behind your ears and pressing his thumb over one of the little black dots on your cheek your foundation couldn’t cover. When you were younger your mother said that moles brought bad luck, but you didn’t have the money to remove them, and now that you had it, you didn’t dare to do it because you remembered how your mother would press them every time she gave you a goodbye hug before she left for work in the weekends.

Now Anton was the one pressing them and you remembered two people when you saw your reflection while you washed your face.

‘’Not even I come here every day’’ you laughed.

His eyebrows went up.

‘’Such a shame, there are days in which I really miss your voice asking me if I had dinner or not.’’

‘’Well, you’re the one who started doing that question.’’

‘’I was just afraid you were going to puke over me again.’’

You laughed and pushed his shoulder.

‘’Please forget that already, I didn’t even do it, and it’s been a life.’’

‘’It feels like yesterday to me, I remember our time together frequently, maybe that’s why I miss you more too.’’

‘’Shut up.’’

Your hand found his like instinct, welcoming his touch with ease.

You saw a different bottle behind him and wondered why he hadn’t opened before you arrived, like he usually did.

‘’Why is the bottle still closed?’’

‘’Oh, I just forgot about it, do you want me to open it?’’ he didn’t pull his eyes away from you for even a second, looking down to your lips instead.

‘’I kind of want to try it.’’ Better said, you wanted to celebrate your good news, and you couldn’t tell him, but you could still do something special with him without talking more than necessary.

‘’I thought your boss didn’t let you drink in work hours.’’

‘’Yeah, that was a lie, I was tired of so many men trying to buy me drinks instead of just letting me work.’’

He nodded, ‘’Yeah, I kind of knew it too, all the other girls love to drink with my friends.’’

The bottle made a pop sound when he got the cork out. It was a wine with a name you couldn’t even read, and you didn’t know much about them but the way he was telling you why it was one of his favorites was enough to make you curious of the taste.

There was only one proper cup for it, Anton said, so you’d have to share it with him.

You weren’t sure if that was the true or he just wanted to drink it with you, but since you weren’t the expert, you just accepted it.

‘’Do you see how dense it is?’’ He asked you and you didn’t notice any difference with other wines, but you didn’t want to interrupt his little moment, so you nodded, ‘’it indicates the flavor, I like this kind, rich that leaves a long rest in the palladate, but if you don’t just tell me and I’ll look for one you like, okay?’’

He continued with a whole ritual you had never seen before, your friends were more into beer and tequila, while your coworkers only had mixed drinks with what was left from the shift.

He swirled and made you sniff it before he placed in front of you take a sip from it, and holding the glass, instead of taking it from his hand, you let him pamper you and give it to you like that.

‘’Well done’’ he said after you played with it in your mouth like he had indicated. His fingers nestled in your chin and his eyes inspected your every movement. ‘’Did you like it?’’ he had so many expectations in his eyes that you decided to smile and humor him a little, and after you nodded, you showed him your tongue for him to see how there was not a single drop left.

You expected him to laugh at what you did, not for him to drop his smile, take a big gulp from the same cup, and press his mouth against yours.

‘’My favorite flavor’’ he whispered before the tip of his tongue brushed your lip, asking for permission. When you opened your mouth for him, he quickly pushed his tongue and played with yours while his free hand maintained the back of your head in place for you to not breath or pull away until he allowed you.

The wine wasn’t too sweet, but it tasted like that when the lingering savor of the drink he had found you.

You didn’t think what you did was a big deal, but soon he was pouring another glass and repeating the same sequence, making you sip it first, to then finish the cup and kiss you again and again.

You don’t know when, but his hands had dragged you to his lap, and with strong touches over your waist while still controlling how close your mouth was to his, he made you rut against him.

A whimper escaped your mouth.

It felt good, too good.

The warmness of his hands over your naked skin brought an electric sensation to the room, like little volts everywhere he touched, pulling you apart from the way his mouth was suffocating you, to then come back with the taste of the drink in his mouth.

Your hips moved on its own at some point, and your panties were getting so wet you couldn’t believe how drenched you were.

Your body was getting hot and your mind dizzy with the alcohol, but your hips instead of stopping searched for more, and the only thing that seemed to appease you enough was the mound inside his pants and the sensation of his zipper pressing your clit.

Minutes later it wasn’t enough anymore, and with his mouth still possessing yours, you couldn’t talk at all, only leaving little whimpers while searching for your own pleasure.

‘’You like how my cock feels?’’ he asked while making you, with both hands, sweep even harder over him, hissing with the force he had used.

You nodded while looking at him with tipsy eyes, more intoxicated with how good it felt to press that special place over him than with the alcohol.

‘’But I want more’’ you murmured.

He stopped your hips. He let his forehead fall on your shoulder and denied.

‘’Fuck, you shouldn’t say it like that, you’ll make me give you everything I have’’ he gulped loudly before he kissed you one more time.

Distracting you with his mouth, his hand found the front of your panties, groaning at how wet you were over them, to then push it inside and feel how you were dripping under them.

‘’Shit, so wet.’’

You accepted him, doing the motion over his hands now and biting your lips to not moan too loud.

He saw how you were containing yourself and decided to kiss you, because if you were going to keep quiet, you’d do it with his lips over yours.

Three of his fingers were swiping up and down your clit, smearing your juices until they got all the front of your panties dirty and the sticky feeling made your legs open even more to him, knees sinking on each side of him over the velvet couch.

Your hands didn’t know in what to hold onto. Your mind was scattered all around and his other hand trailed the way from your neck, which he was eagerly holding, until it found the cup of your bra.

His hand was so big it cupped most of your chest and it felt so good you wanted him to give the same attention to your nipple like he did with your clit.

‘’Should I take it off?’’ you asked him. Not that there wasn’t much you hid, but even if you were wearing just a set of lingerie you felt you were wearing too much. And you wanted to feel him more too, if just his hand felt that good, you couldn’t imagine how his whole body would.

‘’No, I’m sorry, I won’t be able to hold myself if I see more of you.’’ He begged.

You couldn’t understand him, every man in that place wanted you naked and to touch you just like you were asking him, yet he didn’t want to see you like that.

Anton was so different from all the other guys, none of them would focus on you like he did right there, making you forget your question with how he was pushing his fingers inside you now.

His fingers were reaching a place you never touched with your own, and you had left one guy touch you like that, but he didn’t have as much precision as Anton, not even close. He was pushing your walls and then he would make a curling motion that made you whimper of how stimulating it was, touching a spot that made you feel more than good.

You were clenching not much after and he couldn’t stop his fingers from pushing you. He wanted you to make a mess over his hand, a bigger one, one that would keep him company even after you left him alone there and he had to go home with that painful boner.

Inside his pants he felt his cock twitching and his chest calling for you, you would feel so good, he could easily see it, he could feel it.

You were so tight you’d have a bit of trouble taking him, but it was okay, he’d help you get used to his size, that sweet pussy had to be his and only his.

You were shaking over him, your hips moving to find his contact and your eyes fluttering over him, hypnotized with a drunk look.

‘’It’s okay if you cum and make a mess, don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.’’

You shook your head, ‘’I can’t, the other’s will notice.’’

Your cries were so sweet he tried to care about what you wanted, you didn’t want to make a mess, but just feeling how wet you were he knew it was impossible for you to not make it.

‘’Trust me, I’ll find a solution, you just have to cum, I need you to cum or I won’t be able to sleep in peace the next days, I need to see you cumming over my hand, to know I was the one who made you feel this good, please.’’

One hand pressed your chest to him, and you tried to refuse him, but it was so overwhelming your toes were already curling and your hips couldn’t stop. It seemed like your body listened to him more than to you, and you tried to fight it, but it was impossible to win.

Pinching the material of his jacket with your nails, you nodded, giving in.

A gushing sensation came from your insides, warm with a touch of pain but so liberating that black tears fell down your cheeks, your mascara and eyeshadow running in little grey dots. Anton let you hide your face on his neck to moan as loud as you wanted with his shoulder muffling your voice, and after feeling you had enough, your hips jumping away from him to some point, he stopped his fingers from pushing inside you, leaving a long sigh out.

His head fell back to the head couch and seeing the lights of different colors above you two, he felt the dizziness not letting him think straight. However, with the help of your lips thanking him through kisses over his cheek until you left one over his lips, full of fondness, his mind, now full of praises for you that wanted to leave his mouth, functioned a bit better than before.

‘’I don’t think you’ll like my solution’’ he said after you took your breath over his shoulder.

‘’I just don’t want Sungchan to know what happened here’’ you replied between deep breaths.

‘’I know angel, that’s why I hope you don’t get mad at me.’’

You moved apart. He, after caressing your legs and having recollected himself, made you sit next to him, giving you that playful smile when you looked at him with questioning eyes.

‘’What are you going to do Anton Lee?’’

He poured the rest of the bottle over your lap, leaving you, and the couch, sticky with a three hundred dollar wine.

You complained inside your mind. You would have to change for the rest of the night, and even if you quickly washed yourself, you’d still smell like a drink all the girls would interrogate how was, obviously not referring only to the taste of the wine.

You’d have said something out loud to Anton the next time if it wasn’t that, before you left, he had handed you a card, telling you to call him later about the cleaning fees.

‘’You can call Shotaro’’ you said unconvinced.

‘’To be honest I just want to hear your voice through the phone’’ he smiled.

In the back there was something apart from his phone number. Anton Lee, Lee Compositions, music producer, you saw written in bold letters.

At least you knew what he did now.

third visit ↬ fourth visit ↬ fifth visit

#riize smut #riize scenarios #riize imagines #riize x reader #anton smut #anton x reader #riize hard thoughts #riize hard hours

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steviewashere · 2 months

Text

Debrief

Rating: General CW: None Really Apply to This One! Tags: Established Relationship, Married Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Hurt/Comfort, Deep Breath Exercises, Dialogue Heavy, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington has Seizures (Not shown), Steve Harrington has Migraines (Not shown), Stressed Steve Harrington, Neurodivergent Steve Harrington, Not Really Said But it Is Implied, Negative Stimming (Hair Pulling), Teacher Steve Harrington

For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is helping them unwind after a rough day."

💕—————💕

It was a bad day when Eddie hears the front door slam close. The first telltale sign that Steve’s had it rough, that he’s worked himself up, that he’s thinking too hard and too fast and needs to unwind. What comes next is the groans and the huffs and the irritated little sighs. The slamming of his thermos on the dining table. A chucked briefcase. Sneakers that, from where Eddie can see on their couch, get creased on the heel from how Steve takes them off. Never a good sign.

Just as he rocks forward to stand up from his comfortable cushion, Steve comes careening around the corner. A lukewarm plastic bottle of water in his left hand, glasses unfolded and dangling in the other. His hair is standing up every which way, as if he’s been pulling at it for the last little bit. Dress shirt untucked, sweater vest already absent from his body. He’s removed his belt somewhere in the time it took him to get home. So his pants are threatening to fall off his waist. But he just rushes over to the couch and plops down unceremoniously. Eddie leans back in his spot, attempting to nonchalantly lay about his space, waiting for Steve to start the conversation.

Really, he shouldn’t let Steve continue to be worked up. But, for the sake of who Steve is and for the sake of an argument-less night, Eddie has to indulge.

It’s not even three minutes later that the water bottle is crumpled in Steve’s grip, empty, and carelessly thrown onto their coffee table. Eddie turns down the volume of their TV as soon as Steve huffs.

“I fucking hate this new principal,” he seethes. Here we go, Eddie thinks, though calm. “She just drops into my classroom without giving me any sort of warning. Gets all my kids excited to the point they can’t calm down. Her fucking heels were practically stomping about the tile. And she is so demanding!” Steve’s elbows are set heavily on his knees, pressing down hard enough to leave an obvious divot in his pants. His fingers are splayed over the sides of his face, itching to move into his hair.

Eddie turns towards him a little. But he doesn’t say anything, not yet, at least.

“Fucking—“ He cuts himself off with a groan. “—Going through my lesson plan! Tsking under her breath whenever she sees something not up to her standards. Grumbling that certain things were going to be too hard or too long or too…Ugh!” There his hands go, wrapping around tendrils of his hair. He tugs hard enough that the skin on his scalp stretches with the movement. “At least my previous boss would wait until after the students left the classroom! At least she’d fucking explain in length why certain things weren’t working. This new principal, she just fucking takes it upon herself to scratch things out all willy-nilly—AND—she doesn’t consult me about it first! Doesn’t even explain! Doesn’t give me the chance to explain! I just—I don’t—“

This is the time where Eddie has to cut in. He leans into Steve’s space little by little. Enough until they’re warm at each other’s sides. His hands cover the backs of Steve’s. “Let go, honey,” he whispers. And waits, squeezing at Steve’s skin until he does release. “There we go,” Eddie murmurs, “Take a deep breath for me.”

He stutters through an inhale, but instead of exhaling—“It’s so stupid! Who the fuck does she think she is?! And none of the other teachers like her! They all think—“

“Steve,” Eddie murmurs firmer, “You need to take a deep breath.” Inhale and exhale. Then, Eddie states, “Stress causes seizures and migraines, sweetheart. She isn’t somebody worth getting sick over.”

“She’s my boss, Eddie,” Steve whines back.

Eddie runs his palms soothingly up and down Steve’s arms. Some of the tension seeps from his shoulders, but the rest of his body is pulled taut like a brand new bow. “I know,” he whispers, “but she doesn’t matter to me. You matter to me. And you getting sick over somebody like her only does harm.” He ducks down and meets Steve’s eyes. They’re shiny with tears, red on the waterlines, squinted to avoid crying. “You can tell me about what happened, but I’m going to help you, alright? You remember how we do this?”

Steve sniffles. One of his hands wipes at the bottom of his nose, coming away wet with snot. He grimaces, but sucks on his bottom lip in thought. When it comes to him, he mumbles, “Deep breaths. Quiet voice.”

Nodding, Eddie whispers, “You got it, love bug. Take another deep breath and then tell me what’s bothering you.” He brings a palm to settle over Steve’s chest, rubbing in slow circles over his heart. It’s beating hard and fast under his palm. Unsettling. Pressing a little into his sternum, Eddie requests, “Go ahead and lay down on the couch.” He stands from his spot and waits for Steve to elongate. Once his legs are stretched out and his head is cushioned on one of their lousy throw pillows, Eddie settles on the edge of the middle cushion, close to Steve’s hip. He keeps his hand on Steve’s chest. Doesn’t crowd his space, but the heavy weight of his arm is reminder enough that he’s there.

Steve closes his eyes. Hands rested on his belly. Fingers splayed instead of tugging at one another. The inhale lasts for four seconds. And Eddie’s proud of the way Steve holds it, the entire seven seconds. Not once giving up on it. When he exhales, his eyes flutter back open. He finds Eddie’s face, gives him a tight smile, and nibbles on his bottom lip. His eyebrows raise in silent question and Eddie simply nods in response.

“The new principal at my school made me angry today by vetoing my entire lesson plan,” he states calmly. “She had asked for my schedule for the day, which always includes my plans. And I watched her sit at the back of the classroom. With her stupid—“

With his palm, Eddie presses down lightly on Steve’s chest. “Deep breath, Steve,” he commands softly. They avoid using words like stupid when Steve debriefs like this. As soon as his tone goes sharp, his heart rate elevates, the louder his voice gets, the more frustrated he is, and then the whole day crumbles around them.

Another four seconds. Then seven. And eight on the release. Steve asks for permission, Eddie grants it to him.

“She pulled out a ballpoint pen, not a pencil, and marked out things on my plan she didn’t like. Which was most of it,” he relays, “And that made me irritated, not angry. But then a kid asked her what she was doing. So she told this kid the truth.” His hands spasm lightly on his belly as if attempting to bunch his shirt, but he prevents himself from completing the action. “And he said really loudly that the principal was ‘Giving Mr. Harrington a bad grade.’ That shouldn’t embarrass me, but it did. Because—“ He stops to take a deep breath of his own, not even prompted by Eddie.

He smiles to himself as Steve closes his eyes and inhales. Does the whole exercise. And clears his throat to continue.

“—Because it made me feel like I did a bad job. Like I—Like maybe I failed?” He questions rhetorically, searching for the right word. And decides that, yep, that was right. “It made me frustrated that she couldn’t keep that confidential from the student. And it only made me angrier when the kids began to laugh and tease me. I shouldn’t be so—“ He stops himself with another groan.

Palm press. Breath. Exhale. Permission.

“I got so overwhelmed, Eddie,” he admits. Completely shameful. “I didn’t know how to reign them back in, even though I’ve been doing this for nearly ten whole years. There wasn’t any yelling or anything, but she was scolding me with her eyes. Made me feel like—“ And instead of a groan, there’s a sniffle. Small and polite, but there. “—Like I was getting reprimanded by my dad. Which is so humiliating. And I just felt…Small. Like I wasn’t there at all. Wasn’t a teacher. As if I—As if maybe I didn’t deserve to be there today.” And at that, Steve crumbles a little further. Tears sluggishly leaking down his face.

Eddie rubs his thumb over Steve’s chest. He aches. “Oh, baby,” he breathes. “You deserve to be there, Steve. You’ve worked hard for your job. For those kids. I’m sorry she made you feel that way, sweetheart.” He presses lightly once more on Steve’s chest. “Take one more deep breath, alright?”

As Steve does what he’s told, Eddie gently lays his hands on either side of his face. Thumbs wiping away at the tears. He’s surprised that Steve lets him, but then again, today was rough enough. Probably didn’t want to make it harder on himself.

“You know what I think, Steve?” He questions.

Steve hums in response, eyes finding his, big and wet and tired.

“I think she’s very unprofessional,” Eddie states sure. “I think that you did your best with what happened. It’s not your fault that the students acted the way they did. It wasn’t okay of her to tell that student your business. And it definitely should’ve been a conversation she had with you outside of classroom time,” he immediately validates. Because, yeah, this whole situation is bullshit. And you know what? Eddie kind of hates this principal, too. Maybe he has a little bit of a bias, but that doesn’t matter. “She shouldn’t make anybody feel that way. You know what I think you should do? And fair warning, it’s kind of a big scary move.”

“What should I do?” Steve asks, his voice raspy from crying, but calm and curious.

“You need to talk to her boss. Explain to them what you told me. Calmly, by the way. You have to keep your head on your shoulders,” Eddie explains. “But I know that you can. Because you seem a bit better, right?” Steve nods. “Just rung out now, huh?” Again, Steve nods. Sometimes the words are too big for his mouth, the emotions having already been large enough for his chest. “And that’s okay,” Eddie tells him, validating again. “I’ll order in our dinner. Put on a movie. And we can just cuddle. I don’t expect anything more out of you.”

“Okay,” Steve tiredly mutters. He does sound small. Like he’s a teenager all over again, not well into middle age. “Will you help me figure out the words to explain again? Just so I don’t make a fool out of myself?”

“Of course,” Eddie agrees. “But I think we should do that tomorrow after your day, okay? I think today’s been enough of a burden for you.” He runs his palms down the sides of Steve’s neck, over his shoulders, down to his hands and holds him gently. “I’ll grab your pajamas. You get comfy. And remember that I love you. And you’re enough. And you do such a good job at what you do.”

Steve smiles softly at him. “I love you, too,” he whispers. And that, in itself, is enough of a thanks for Eddie.

💕—————💕

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #hurt/comfort #steddielovemonth #day 19

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dojunie · 4 months

Text

MISDIAL; LJN [CH4] PICK UP THE PHONE!

[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

info;

lee jeno x fem!reader

college au

chaptered

very slow burn

genre; not-quite-friends to lovers, older brother mark lee, brothers best friend lee jeno, light angst, yn is a menace to society, story/character driven

warnings for this chapter; none

chapter wc: 9.5k / comment on this post for taglist!

taglist: @hibernatinghamster @jenoxygen @eaglesnotravens @donutswithjaminthemiddle @jvjsssnaa @huangrenhyucks @luvenshiti @shiningdery @jaeminsbebu @aliceinwhateverland @bebsky@gem-gem @jkjkseo @jenosbliss @pewpewpwe00 @ti--red @philanarose @softbbyg0rl @aaasteroidsky @carelessshootanonymous @en-boyz @jlsavyy @roseymerrie @bangchanisemo @skuezk @jaehyuns-adorable-dimples @ourbeautifulaffair@jeonnyread @jvjsssnaa @episkeyjeno @bockhyun @jenojammin @zarastrawberry @peachie-bear @itadaramaterasu @alymii @cuteejeno @episkeyjeno @nohunlee @ooojisoo @luv4jeno @not-clemb @jydivrs @maeyoung @axmdocs @nctzennikki09 @pinkysinnerbaby

unable to tag: @jenojenoyes

[a/n]: merry early christy mass

“SO. ARE WE GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT?”

It’s 7:38AM, and Jeno has finally driven for long enough that the Palisades building is no longer looming in his rearview mirror. In a perfect world he’d be heading back to his apartment right now to sleep away the next twelve hours of his life— but Jeno’s life has not been perfect since you moved back to Seoul, and he knows even before Donghyuck finishes speaking that the following conversation is going to be unbearable.

The man in the backseat slurps obnoxiously from the thermos he’s got at his lips. “Frankly, I’m a little suspicious that we’re not already talking about it. Because there is like… no chance neither of you have anything to say about all of that.”

“All of what,” Jaemin asks, nonplussed. “Your sudden closeness with little Jeon?”

Donghyuck scoffs, taking another loud sip from the borrowed bedazzled cup. The contents held within is fresh brewed coffee courtesy of the small Starbucks Jeon Somi’s has on her kitchen counter, and he’s practically perched on top of the center console because he’s leaning so far forward. “No, prick. Don’t even start. All of that being last fucking night. You know,” he prods very pointedly, “At Wooyoung’s?”

For a split second, Jeno’s mind goes completely elsewhere. Wooyoung’s. The guy was more Jaemin’s friend than his but he’d been invited to the party anyway, initially with a polite promise to swing by for an hour or two before clearing out to avoid the storm rolling in. Then, a few hours later at Mark’s place, you. Wandering into the apartment none the wiser to his presence, squinting into the depths of your phone; and the only thing Jeno can remember from the seconds before you looked up and shut him out again was wondering how the hell he didn’t notice how much you’d changed.

If he was being honest, it's something that's been bothering him since that night at Nabi Bar. Because you’d always been cute. Ask anybody with eyes. In highschool you were cute enough that sometimes Jeno didn’t quite understand why no one else seemed to be thinking about it as much as he was. Everything you did made him want to pick you up and shake you like a dog with a new toy. But somewhere along the lines, this…shifted.

“What about Wooyoung’s?” Jaemin sighs. “We were there for like, four hours. You’re going to have to be more—”

“You and Y/N,” Donghyuck says unrepentantly, striking right to the heart of his curiosity. “Mark’s birthday up in the woods, the lake house, whatever the fuck happened there. Her truth or drink question. To be specific.”

Jeno isn’t the best at understanding his own feelings, and he’ll admit that easily. So if he’s being serious about when he first realized something had shifted, when he noticed that something was undeniably different about you— he’d, coincidentally, also have to point a finger towards the weekend they all spent at the lake house. It was the first time he’d properly seen you in nearly a year. He’d shown up at Mark’s parents house with the van full of guys and hung out downstairs in the same living room he used to spend every afternoon in before college came and whisked them all away, and waited for you and your brother to come down.

And he’s not proud of this, but. Well.

Well, when you did eventually reveal yourself, finding his eyes amongst the crowd of his friends perking up at your arrival… he’d been expecting a bigger reaction.

He’d been working out more, is all. And he’d grown his hair out for the first time since he was a little kid, and had finally grown accustomed to the pokey, itchy world of contacts. He looked different. He felt different. He’d just finished his first year of college and was definitely feeling a little too cool about it. And in high school you used to look at him like he had done something great for just simply existing— so he’d been ready for you to all but drop when you saw him now— but you’d run your gaze over Jeno for what felt like half a second before turning to Renjun, smiling widely at this new guy like you’d been waiting to meet him and only him.

And he remembers being… confused.

That had been the first clue that something about you (or, maybe, something about him) had changed.

“Na Jaemin. You are absolutely not going to sit here and not explain what the hell she was talking about.”

“It was over a year ago,” Jaemin says. The uneasy beat that followed Donghyuck’s question was nothing to be envied, but Jeno wholeheartedly preferred the silence over actually listening to this conversation. “And you heard her. There’s nothing to explain. She was getting over someone, I was getting over someone, and like most stupid teenagers do, we did the only thing that came to mind—”

“Okay but you understand that she’s not like most stupid teenagers, right? You hooked up with Mark’s little sister. On his birthday. At his birthday party. Did you have a death wish? Why are you both acting like this isn’t breaking goddamn news?”

“Because it isn’t news,” Jaemin replies sharply. “For a myriad of reasons. Can you not phrase it like I was trying to seduce the Virgin Mary?”

“I’m not phrasing it like anything! I just… I mean, you’re not seriously going to pretend like this isn’t absolutely insane, right? It’s hard to imagine—”

“What about two people hooking up is so insane to you?”

Donghyuck seems flabbergasted by this. “Jaemin. Everything. Everything about it is insane. Because it’s not just two people ‘hooking up’. Of all the people on earth you could have— and trust me, the number of options you have is high, I’ve heard some of the shit the girls on campus say about you— you chose her? The single person on this earth that Mark would flay you alive for even—”

Jaemin snaps his eyes to the rearview mirror, and Donghyuck’s words cut short. “Is Y/N a human being to you?”

A stunned second passes.

“Or is she just some attachment to Mark, some little doll with no will of her own? You realize that this is why she hates being around us so much, right? Why she’s never around in her own fucking apartment? Did you even notice that you’ve only ever said her name once in this whole conversation? Do you know what you’ve been calling her?”

Jaemin’s question hangs in the air like a physical weight. Mark’s little sister. It hits Jeno like a punch; his hand tightens around the steering wheel with immediate guilt. Guilt for not even noticing how interchangeably they’d all been using the words in the first place and, much deeper down, knowing that even if Jaemin wasn’t talking to him, Jeno was definitely the worst culprit in the vein of only seeing you as an extension of your brother.

That’s basically what you’d told him on the balcony before you left and took half of his spirit with you.

“That’s not what I meant,” Donghyuck says, sufficiently chided. All the gossip-seeking enthusiasm has drained from his voice. Now he just sounds sorry. “You know that’s not what I meant. That’s not how any of us see her.”

“I know that,” Jaemin says quietly, returning his gaze to the window. “She doesn’t.”

They ride in silence for almost a whole block before Jaemin sighs.

“She found me after I got off the phone with Jurin for the last time,” he supplies, unable to ignore Donghyuck’s scolded pouting. “Sometime while you guys were off getting wood for the campfire.”

Perking up a little in the backseat, Donghyuck tentatively asks, “At… At the lake house?”

And, having foolishly assumed the reprimand would've ended this conversation, Jeno almost wants to slam his head against the headrest when Jaemin nods and he realizes they're not done talking about you. He feels raw; sensitive and uncomfortable and combative. It's residual from what just happened with you, he knows that, and he also knows saying something will probably just draw attention he does not want, but he still can't help but blurt; “Do you really need to hear the details, man?”

He’s not sure who he surprises more by the edge in his voice: himself or the other two. Both turn to look at Jeno like he’s just magically appeared in the vehicle.

Donghyuck is so caught off guard by the distaste that he actually rocks back a little bit in his seat.

“I’m not asking for those kinds of details!” he exclaims, scandalized. “I just want to know how it went down beforehand, because as far as I remember, they were the perfect picture of normalcy on that trip! Jaemin was a little sulkier than normal because of the whole girlfriend-breaking-up-with-him thing, but he perked up after, like…”

Donghyuck trails off. Then after a very long second he gasps, sounding almost appalled, forgetting Jeno again immediately.

“When we came back from camping because it started raining, you were like a totally different person. It was then, wasn’t it? You and her stayed back. I remember being worried that you were going to bore her to death if she ever came out of her room. Holy shit, dude, don’t tell me you guys planned—”

Jaemin whirls around. “Do you think I’m completely crazy?”

“Well how am I supposed to know, when you won’t tell us anything?!”

“You really want to know so badly?” Jaemin says, fed up. No, Jeno thinks uselessly.

“Earlier in the afternoon Y/N heard me on the phone with Jurin and figured something was wrong. She came over to talk to me about it and I found out that she was having guy problems of her own, so we tried to make each other feel better— Verbally," Jaemin tells, pointedly adding the last word when Donghyuck's eyebrows jump in scandal. "The next time I saw her was when you guys left to go camping and we stayed back. I was watching a movie in the living room and she asked if she could join me because she couldn’t sleep, and— And after that you can put two and two together. That’s it.”

“Prude,” Donghyuck mutters. When Jaemin shoots him another look in the mirror though, he’s the perfect picture of innocence. “—Is what I would have said, if you were talking about any other girl, ha ha. Anyway! Did you guys kiss?”

Jeno's arms tense up so quickly that he almost swerves into oncoming traffic. Hyuck nearly topples out of his seat.

“Fucking hell—! Hey! You’ve got precious cargo back here, jackass!”

“Pothole,” Jeno bites.

He’s lying through his teeth. But it’s the only thing he could think of. There’s no such thing as a pothole out here— they’re in Gangnam, on a main goddamn road, but he can almost feel Jaemin’s eyes on the side of his face, so keeps his eyes sharply forward despite the fact that his ears are no doubt already starting to flush pink from discomfort.

“I’m not telling you that,” Jaemin replies after a second. “Voyeur.”

“What? What type of sense does that make? You two literally fucked on our communal couch, but asking about a kiss is too—”

Even if it feels like every nerve instantly lights ablaze under his skin from this comment, Jeno is much better about controlling his expression this time around. It probably wouldn’t have mattered because in the moment after the words left Donghyuck’s mouth Jaemin whirled around in his seat to pinch him, a sharp grab at his thigh that had the boy yowling in surprise— and then immediately thereafter, agony, because Jaemin’s strength is nothing to sneeze at.

“Listen to me very carefully,” Jaemin hisses. “Not a word of this is leaving this car. Do you understand me, Lee Donghyuck? If you tell anybody—”

“Okay, okay!” Donghyuck cries out. “Fuck, do you have razors under your nails?! I think I’m bleeding!”

“I’m serious,” Jaemin continues darkly. “You can laugh about it all you want, but we all know exactly how Mark is going to react if he finds out and I am not interested in playing the odds on whether he ends my life via strangulation or vicious beating. Keep your mouth shut.”

Donghyuck is still muttering to himself, rubbing bitterly at the spot where Jaemin sniped him.

He’s thinking of ways to reassure Jaemin, probably. Or maybe that’s just what Jeno hopes he’s doing, because a younger him could have used some reassurance that Mark possibly wouldn’t have tried to kill him where he stood if, back in highschool, he’d ignored your brother's wishes entirely and actually told you how he felt.

But Donghyuck simply says, “Remember when we all watched him punch that watermelon in half during spirit week? Back in our senior year, when they were still finding chunks of it a week later in, like, the ceiling rafters and shit? I think my money is on him beating you to death if he finds out you slept with his sister.”

And on that very positive note, Jeno flicks his turn signal on and coasts into the lane that’ll take him right back to SNU.

It’s four days later, Jeno hasn’t seen you once in that span of time, and he’s beginning to think it’s driving him a little insane, because he’s been staring pathetically at a photo of you on Mark’s fridge for the last five minutes. You’re mid-laugh and you’ve got one arm tight around Mark’s neck— you’re both on the beach, jeans rolled up to your knees, and your hair is a startling, bright red.

Back in highschool, when you were a junior and he was a senior, you’d had a short lived obsession with dying your hair. Mark had mentioned it to him in passing, recalling the half a dozen conversations he’d witnessed of you trying to convince your parents to let you bleach it, but he hadn’t really thought about it too seriously until he was over at Mark’s house to work on a project a few weeks later. Your brother, who’s brain stopped working properly when he was hungry, tapped out after about fifteen minutes to hit the convenience store a few blocks away for a pint of ice cream and a few energy drinks.

It was only after the front door slammed shut that Jeno even realized you were home; he was slouched in Mark’s desk chair scrolling listlessly through his phone when he heard the bedroom door creak open, and turned around expecting your brother. It was not your brother.

It was you. Standing in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights as your eyes met, dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top, hair slicked down to your head with cherry red dye— it was all over your hands, splattered down your neck, an artful blob on the tip of your nose.

The two of you stared at each other for what felt like minutes. He hadn’t seen you this close for a few weeks now, since this was around the time that you’d started hanging out with your friends more and were rarely ever home. That was what he blamed for the way his brain seemed to start buffering at the sight of you.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked.

You stood up straight and hid your hands behind your back like he hadn’t already seen them in all their bloody glory, and said, “I thought you… Left. Just now. With Mark.”

“I didn’t,” he replied. You stared at each other some more. Then, because he wasn’t quite sure what else to do and he’s never really been good at reading a room, he said,“You missed a bit, there. On the top.”

You stiffened, and then your whole body slumped like he’d cut your strings with those eight words alone. “I know. Mark has a little mirror in here somewhere that I was going to steal while he was gone, because I didn’t realize until it was too late that I couldn't see the back of my own head.”

And somehow this ended up with Jeno standing behind you in your bathroom, dutifully brushing red goo into your scalp as you fidgeted and twitched and tried to pretend you weren’t staring at him in the mirror, even though it was very obvious that you were. Jeno pretended, like he’d been doing for the last three years, that he didn’t notice— even if he was finding it a little harder than normal to not stare right back.

Back then, he chalked up his jitters to all of the physical things that were happening in that moment. He credited his desire to stand a little closer to you than necessary to the pleasant scent of cherry coming from the dye in your hair, and blamed the uneven straps on your tank top for the reason his eyes kept drifting to the curve of your shoulders. He was hyper-focusing on the tiny beauty mark below your ear not because he found it fascinating, but because it was easier to keep his eyes trained on that than to risk forgetting what he was doing and finding your eyes in the mirror.

When the dye ran out and your head was sufficiently gooped, he’d been gearing up to ask if you needed help washing it out too, when the sound of the garage door opening whispered through the house and you stiffened. In an instant you were plucking the empty dye bowl from his hands and then herding him out of your bathroom— startled, he turned around to mention his sweater, only to find it flying at his chest with enough force to knock him back against the hallway wall. Your eyes were huge as you stood in the bathroom doorway, hand already on the door as if already positioning to slam it shut.

“Don’t tell Mark you helped me,” you said quickly, before blinking very hard a few times, “And— Thank you? This probably would have turned out like shit if you didn’t offer to help me. Thanks.”

Downstairs, the front door opened. Jeno stood there with his balled up sweatshirt in his hands suddenly feeling very odd. Only later did he realize that feeling was hesitance. He didn’t want to go yet. “Why can’t I tell him?” he asked.

“Because Mark’s going to freak out when he sees me, and I don’t want him to get mad at you too for, like, being an accessory to my crime.”

“An accessory to your what?”

“Oh,” you said belatedly. Then you raised your eyebrows at him, lip quirking into an innocent smile that felt like anything but, and his stomach twisted. “Might’ve said too much.”

Your brother's voice rang up the stairs and Jeno made the mistake of turning towards the landing. By the time he turned back to you, mouth opening to speak— even though he wasn’t even sure what he was planning to say— he only caught the last glimpse of your red stained hand through the shutting the door.

Mark returned a few moments later to find Jeno sitting back in the desk chair, back to peering into his phone, but what he probably didn’t notice was that Jeno was really staring at the little, cherry colored splotch on his palm.

Back then he hadn’t known yet, just what he was feeling. He didn’t put two and two together to realize why whenever he’d see the color red in the corner of his eye at school after that, he’d turn around in the middle of a conversation to see if you were passing by; why, when the school strong-armed you into dying it back to its natural color a few days later, the missing cherry red had bothered him more than he could justify. It took him another few months to really get it.

“No-Jam! Dude, did you get lost in there or something? The cola is in the little—The bin thing! In the back!”

Mark’s voice pitches over the rest of his friends' muffled bickering and right through the memory he’s sunk into, and he tears his eyes away from the fridge to remember who he is and what he’s supposed to be doing right now.

It’s movie night. He’s been put in charge of drinks now that the take-out has arrived, and yet he’s malingering in the kitchen like some kind of sad voyeur. Right.

He snatches the cans and shuts the door a little harder than necessary, if only to get away from that photo of you faster. The conversation he returns to isn’t much different than the one he’d left; initially it was Chucky versus Annabelle, now when he sits the rack of soda on the coffee table and sinks back down between Jaemin and Jisung, it’s Jason versus Michael. Hyuck is ripping his hair out trying to explain that Michael is a borderline mutant and therefore obviously the winner in this bracket, and per usual, Chenle is completely unbothered and arguing the opposite solely to raise their friend’s blood pressure.

This would usually be Jeno’s pre-movie entertainment, chiming in with the occasional fact check to keep the sides even, but tonight he can’t focus on their debate. Instead, his eyes drift towards the clock on Mark’s TV stand.

7:06. He frowns.

“Where is Little Lee, by the way? Out getting into trouble?”

It’s embarrassing how quickly Jeno snaps back to attention at the sound of your nickname.

Mark shrugs in response, completely unbothered, even though Jeno is almost boring holes into the side of Mark’s head waiting for an answer to Renjun's question. “She’s at dance practice. Been at it all week for her showcase, and it goes real late. She should be back in about an hour if you’re looking for her.”

“Not looking,” Renjun says, “Only noticed she hasn’t been around. What showcase?”

“Goodness,” Jaemin coos. “My hard worker. Saw her this morning on my way to chem, looked a little like death, eyes all dark and broody. I guess that's why?”

“She leaves in the morning before I do, too. Probably dead tired.”

Mark tries to return to scrolling through Netflix’s catalog but Renjun, not satiated, flaps his hand in front of his face. “Wait, but what showcase, though? I didn’t even know anything was coming up. The school is hosting something?”

“Not the school,” Jisung offers instead. He sounds oddly eager to talk about it, and for a second Jeno is rattled by the idea of Jisung paying enough attention to you to know the intricacies of your schedule, until he realizes it’s the topic he’s excited about. “It’s this thing called the Aegon Showcase, a big competition for unknown hip-hop dancers. It’s a nationwide thing so it’s broken up into different showcases in every province, and there technically aren’t supposed to be favorites, because talent is like, everywhere, but pretty much everyone knows that the Seoul competition is the most popular. It’s pretty difficult to get chosen for Seoul, and yet Y/N’s team got in. They even air it on TV.”

Chenle whistles. “I knew about the competition, but I didn’t know all that. That sounds like a big deal.”

He remembers how sheepish you’d been when Somi told them in his car; the awfully shy look he’d caught on your face when your eye met in the mirror.

“It is a big deal!” Jisung declares, sounding proud. “Yonsei hasn’t been on the roster since 2016, so the guys in my hip-hop class are pretty excited about it. There’s posters up in all the hallways of the performance building and noona’s name is all over them. Jeongsob nearly knocked my head off when he found out I had a ticket to see it live, and I didn’t even tell him it was center house because I thought he’d really hit me.”

“A ticket?” Renjun’s spine straightens indignantly. “From where? When was this an option? I want to go!”

Jisung’s shrug is interrupted by the loud smack of Donghyuck’s mouth as he swallows a swig of his soda. “This is how I know you don’t read my messages.”

“What?”

“I sent you the ticket, loser. I sent everyone the ticket like, a week ago.”

“Where the hell did you get them?”

A beat of silence as Donghyuck stares at him, before he realizes Renjun is serious and begins to whine. “So you don’t read my messages or listen to me. Somi. Jeon Somi! Rockstar’s little blonde bestie pulled some strings and gave us all tickets. Gave the rest of us tickets, should I specify, since Y/N-ie doesn’t love us and only got one for Mark.”

The Mark in question only hums proudly.

“Right up in front,” Donghyuck continues. “All she’d tell me is that they’re opening with DNA.”

“By BTS?”

Chenle scoffs. “By Kendrick Lamar. My God. Listen to something other than Seoul Top 50.”

“Their tracklist must be stacked if they’re opening with Lamar,” Jisung adds, awed.

Jeno has never really seen you dance before. It’s something he’s always known about you, sure, but only through word of mouth; He knew you started dancing because of Mark, since your brother has been telling the story to anyone who would listen for half a decade. How you were dragged along to his lesson one day, bitter about missing out on an afternoon of Guitar Hero for some ‘lousy physical activity’, when the dance teacher happened to notice how quickly you’d been picking up on the moves. She convinced you to come to another, and then another, until you ended up attending those classes more often than Mark did.

Those lessons had been before you and Mark transferred to their school though. Mark dropped dance to pick up basketball, which meant Jeno didn’t hear much about it from him, and while you kept up with it, it wasn’t like the two of you were close enough to talk about things like that.

So it simply stayed a fun-fact. A topic only brought up in passing, like Mark randomly mentioning a competition you had one weekend, or apologizing for being late because he had to pick you up from a lesson across town.

A topic only brought up in passing until the next words that fall out of your brother's mouth.

“That’s the type of music she dances to all the time though,” Mark says belatedly. “Kendrick Lamar I mean. She has like, four or five videos on Youtube from that album alone. It was her favorite for a while.”

“She has videos on youtube?” Jeno blurts.

The world pauses. Or it feels that way to him, since he hadn’t even registered the ending of Mark’s sentence before his own mouth was opening without his permission. It’s the first words he’s spoken in nearly half an hour and it shows in how they all glance at him, varying from brief confusion to clear interest in his sudden curiosity— and he instantly wants to kick himself considering that the latter comes from Jaemin, who’s already suspicious that he’s hiding something.

Mark furrows his eyebrows, staring back at Jeno like your presence on youtube is just supposed to be common knowledge.

“I never told you guys? Freshman year of highschool, she had this channel she’d upload all her dance class videos to. Mostly just for progress, to see how she improved, but I guess they must’ve hit some weird algorithm or something because the videos actually ended up doing super well.”

“Rockstar is famous?” Jaemin asks.

Mark scratches his chin. “Subjectively, I guess so. I meant doing well as in like, a dozen of the videos have broken a hundred thousand views, but subscriber wise she’s not—”

Donghyuck chokes so violently on his cola that it sounds like he’s being waterboarded. Instinctually Jisung starts to pat his back, but even he looks surprised; not that Jeno is confused by why. A hundred thousand?

The second that Donghyuck is able to form words again he all but demands Mark pull up her channel on the TV, which is when he finally seems to realize the predicament he’s put you in. All of your older brothers' friends. Watching your old highschool videos. Without your knowledge. Any little sister’s waking nightmare.

Mark tries to backtrack; ‘Ah, well, the whole reason she stopped uploading was because she got embarrassed about all the attention. She’d seriously kill me if she knew I showed you guys.’ But Hyuck only grins. ‘You damned yourself to that the second you mentioned it at all, tiger. You know I’ll just find it on my own if you don't, right? I’ve got resources!’

Doubtful. Donghyuck can’t even find files on his own computer, much less sift through the entire internet for a few six year old videos from a person that’s no longer uploading. Even though Mark doesn’t look fully convinced, glancing warily between his phone and the clock like he’s worried you’ll walk through the door the second he picks up the remote, Jeno knows he’ll fold. He always does.

We shouldn’t, he could say to help. Y/N wouldn’t like it. You know she wouldn’t.

He would’ve a month ago. Maybe even a week ago.

But right now he’s mortifyingly desperate to see you again, even if it’s only through the glass of a screen. So he does nothing but swallow his shame when Mark sighs, “One video. One! And if she finds out, dude, I’m telling her it was you!” and snatches the remote from the coffee table. He does nothing when Mark scrolls through the seemingly endless list of people he’s subscribed to, and he continues to do nothing when you blip to life on the television, Xx_SGirl2002_xX’s youtube channel.

Mark presses play on the first video there is, the last thing ever uploaded to your account— a three-minute clip titled ‘Kiss Kiss - Chris Brown, (J’HO’s ADV class)’ with ninety-eight thousand views.

Jeno knows it’s 2016 from the date in the description but for some reason he’s still startled by how young you are here. This is how you looked when he met you, and its a whiplash he isn't prepared for. Fourteen years old with a glare that could cut down grown men. You have on a baseball cap that Jeno recognizes because it actually belongs to Mark, and an oversized t-shirt over a pair of green sweatpants (that Jeno also recognizes, because you wore them around your house all the time in high school)— but there’s no time to get into the intricacies of your outfit because soon enough the beat kicks in and Donghyuck is squealing like this is his favorite song.

You’re dancing with four others who look just as confident as you, bouncing on their feet before the choreo starts, but it immediately becomes clear why you’re in the front. Your movement is so natural that Jeno would’ve thought you were freestyling if it wasn’t for the others you’re on beat with, easily capturing the center of attention with your style— though he knows you’re not intending to.

That’s how you’ve always been. The brightest person in the room, without even realizing it.

It’s not as surprising as he expects it to be. Despite never having seen you attempt to dance in front of him in your life, he’d somehow always known you were going to be this good. It’s familiarity probably that keeps his eyes on you, even when the videos go on and on and on and new dancers filter in and out of the choreographies. He’s only made aware of how blatantly he’s ignoring everyone else in your videos when Jisung excitedly points out that he recognizes one guy you’re dancing with, some famous popper in the hip-hop circuit, and Jeno has to drag his eyes away from you to even realize you’re dancing with a man in the first place.

Too engrossed in showing you off now to remember why he’d been so hesitant in the first place, Mark, obviously, fails to stick to his word. They’re on video four or five when there’s the very, very sudden sound of the front door handle rattling.

It’s mere dumb luck that Mark manages to scramble for the remote fast enough to mute the TV before you get the door open. It’s even luckier that you wander into the apartment with both your headphones in and your eyes squinted at something on your phone. It’s just enough time for them to all assume the picture of perfect innocence when you do finally look up— appearing almost startled by the sight of them all staring at you with wide eyes, silent and still like a bunch of weeping angels.

Jeno for an entirely different reason than the rest of them, however.

“Hello… all?” you greet, clearly suspicious, but you can’t seem to put your finger on the reason they’re all looking at you, and this makes the whole room seem to relax.

“You’re late, Rockstar,” Jaemin says, playfully scolding, “Take-out’s gone cold.”

“I ate before practice. What are you guys doing?”

“Is it not obvious? Movie night, of course!”

There’s a beat as you glance at the TV behind their heads, all their eyes on you, before you nod slowly.

“Movie night. Right. Uh. I’m going to head in early since I have to be out of here early tomorrow, so try not to have too much… fun out here. I’ll leave you guys to it then?”

You readjust your duffel on your shoulder and pull an apple from the bowl on the island as you pass, not sparing a glance behind as you head for your room.

“Too much fun?” Jaemin echoes quietly beside him, the both of them still staring off after where you’d just been, when Donghyuck curses and brings their attention back to the front.

“Are you fucking— Has this been on the screen the whole time?”

It’s only belatedly Jeno realizes that, in his haste to just get your youtube channel off the screen, Mark must’ve just pressed any recommended video from the suggestions. Even if it didn’t make the most sense for them to be so diligently watching. Because, still muted, a video of an aerobics class plays on the TV dozens of women in a giant studio, dressed in very tight, very small clothes, all bending over and lunging and casually contorting their bodies into positions that would probably make nuns across the country blush.

Quite the movie you walked in on them watching. Together. Without speaking. On mute. Mark gasps when he realizes this and snatches the remote again, frantically clicking on something else like the damage hasn’t already been done, and Chenle laughs until he cries when he, also, finally understands what a sight that must’ve been. Jeno probably would’ve found it hilarious too, if he’d been paying attention to it at all.

Instead, all he could really think about was the fact that while he couldn’t take his eyes off of you— you hadn’t thought to look in his direction once.

Movie night comes to a close with two casualties— Renjun and Jisung, snoring and completely unconscious on the couch and floor respectively— Mark shooing the rest of them out at one in the morning with a loud yawn and a promise to continue Scream VI after everyone's classes tomorrow night.

Per usual, Jeno gets sacked with taking Jaemin home. And per usual, like a Gremlin straight from the films, Jaemin turns into a pit of insatiable hunger after midnight and demands they stop at a drive through so he can get something to eat.

But if Jeno is being honest— he really just wants to go home.

He’s tired. It’s been a long day. Four classes, basketball practice, having to take his car to get looked at because the air coming out of the aircon kept smelling like burnt lemons. The final nail in the coffin had been you not even batting an eye at him when you’d gotten home, when he’s been physically unable to think of anything else besides you for the last four days.

He is entirely ready to call it a night… but he knows that he’ll never, ever hear the end of it if he doesn’t take Jaemin somewhere before he drops him off, and it’s only fate that he spies McDonalds golden arches at the next turn signal.

He whips into the drive through and is preparing to turn right back out of the lot when the food is safely in the vehicle a few minutes later, but Jaemin asks him for something he’s never asked for before.

He asks him to park.

Jeno glances at him, incredulous, but Jaemin doesn’t seem to be joking at all. “You can’t wait until you’re home?”

“I’m hungry, I said. And I want to eat in peace.”

“You had two whole servings of that Lo Mein and still snuck some off of my plate.”

“Don’t fat shame me,” Jaemin replies mildly, eyeing the steaming contents of the paper bag. “My digestion is only a quarter of the reason. Jaehyun will snatch this from me if he sees me come into the house with it. Just park it, will you?”

And because Jeno has never really been one to argue, despite being annoyed by the detour, he does just that.

He should’ve known better though. Jaemin knows a dozen ways to sneak food into that apartment without setting off the nose of his brother; the two have been living together for a year and a half. He’s never asked him to park before because he’s never needed Jeno to park— but he doesn’t start realizing any possible ulterior motives until a few minutes in, when (after he’s polished off half of his nuggets in complete silence) Jaemin asks how he’s doing.

Jeno’s eyebrows dart up to his hairline. “What?”

“I’m asking if you’re okay,” Jaemin says. “Doesn’t take a psychiatrist to see that you’ve been off these last few days. What’s on your mind?”

“What’s on my mind?”

And only then does he put two and two together.

“Is this... is this an intervention?”

“What? Of course not! I can’t just wonder how my friend is doing?”

“You made me drive you into an empty parking lot at one in the morning because you were just wondering? Are you even hungry?”

“I would never lie about food,” Jaemin says with great offense, seemingly forgetting himself for a moment before he sees the jarred look on Jeno’s face. “Well. Okay. Fine. I just… I heard what happened on the balcony with you and Rockstar a few days ago.”

It’s like being suckerpunched.

“You’ve been all weird since,” he continues, “And watching you do nothing about it is starting to stress me out.”

Jeno expects to feel angry once the shock wears off; to get mad at Jaemin for eavesdropping, or butting in, or for trying to offer advice Jeno didn’t ask for. But nothing actually comes to him besides an eye twitch, courtesy of Jaemin’s straw squeaking as he stabs it through the soda cup lid.

He releases the tension from his spine. No need to play coy, then. “Weird is an understatement.”

“Of course it is. You’ve been moping around like you’re about to be executed.”

“Because I screwed up, man.”

“What?” Jaemin says flippantly. “Hardly. There were a few rough edges, like how you probably could’ve gone without calling the poor girl’s eternal undying love for you… cute, but as far as I know nothing you told her was a lie. I don’t actually see where you went wrong in telling her that her brother was the reason you didn’t acknowledge her feelings when she asked.”

Jaemin says nothing for a moment as he leans forward, shaking and then rifling through the brown bag for the few fries that had somehow escaped his previous sweep. Jeno knows better than to take that speech as final verdict, however. A silence this heavy over ever means that there’s a but. There’s always a—

“If you’re not interested in her anymore, that is. Because what you did up there was pretty straightforward, for someone who was actually trying to let a girl down easy.”

And there it is. Jeno screws his eyes shut and exhales for much, much too long, if only to focus on the feeling of his lungs caving in instead of where he is and what he’s talking about.

“And if I wasn’t trying to let her down easy?” Jeno asks.

Jaemin doesn’t even look at him. Just keeps his eyes trained lazily on the traffic going by, humming as he inserts another whole nugget into his mouth. “Then you’re fucked.”

Okay. Here the anger comes, just a little belated. The wave of irritation that hits him at Jaemin’s stupid reply catches him off guard. Then you’re fucked. If Jeno didn’t already know that would he have asked? Did Jaemin bring him out here to rub it in? Just to hear the details?

Without thinking he jams his middle finger into the push to start, roaring the car’s engine to life— if his only goal was to remind Jeno of his colossal mistake then he could finish his damn nuggests elsewhere.

“Woah, woah!” Jaemin bursts as the car jerks into first gear, big eyes wide in alarm, “Damn, man, I was just— Can I finish before you tear out of here like fucking Batman?”

“Why can’t you just eat while I drive?��

“What? No, I meant finish what I was saying! There’s still hope for you, dipshit!”

And he sounds so sure of himself that Jeno can’t help but hesitate. With a huff that even he knows is petulant, Jeno knocks the shift back into park and drags a heavy, tired hand down his face. “What hope.”

“Have you maybe considered telling her how you feel?”

“Did you pull that from an episode of Dr.Phil?” he mocks childishly, but before he can finish Jaemin socks him in the arm hard enough to make him yelp, patience waning, and wary of being hit again Jeno says the first thing that comes to mind.

“No! No, I’ve never considered it, because I don’t… I don’t know.”

Jaemin says nothing, so he just keeps going. “I don’t know how I feel. Whenever I felt myself caring too much about what she was doing I’d just chalk it up to Mark’s overprotectiveness rubbing off on me or something, and I’ve been like that for so long that it’s just become my go-to answer. I’ve never let myself think about it long enough to come to any other conclusion. I couldn’t.”

“Because you were scared of what you’d realize if you did?” Jaemin finishes, unsurprised. “You’re so stupid.”

“Fuck off,” Jeno bites, but Jaemin shakes his head.

“No. You’re actually dumb. You already know how you feel about her. You’ve known. You’ve just never let yourself say it out loud because saying it out loud means confirming it, and confirming it means you have to choose, but not looking at the writing on the wall doesn’t mean it isn’t there. What you still don’t seem to realize is that not choosing is still a choice.”

“A choice that keeps everyone happy,” he replies through a taut jaw. “Y/N got over me, and Mark doesn’t hate my guts. Easy.”

Jaemin looks like he has a lot to say about that statement, but swallows it down to ask the one he finds will get him the closest to his goal. “Why are you even friends with Mark if you think he’ll hate you over something like this?”

“What?”

“Don’t get mad at me, Jeno, actually think. He’s your best friend. You’re closer to brothers than two people who only met in high school. But you swear he’d drop you without a second thought if ever found out that you ever happened to look at Y/N in a way that wasn’t entirely innocent. Why? Are you some sort of threat Mark should be wary of? Do you have nefarious intentions with his baby sister?”

Jeno balks. Jaemin is clearly just trying to rile him up, his questions nothing but rhetorical, but regardless of knowing this Jeno still feels something angry and dark churning in his gut. His voice is a touch sharper than me means for it to be when he says, warningly, “What the hell are you trying to say, Jaemin?“

“I’m not trying to say anything! I’m asking you, because I’m seriously starting to think that you’ve never asked yourself! What reason do you actually have for thinking Mark wouldn’t even hear you out?”

“I know you’ve heard him, man. When he told us she was hanging out with Yeonjun again, you don’t remember that? How pissed he’d get— the tangents he’d go on, how he’d insist no guy was good enough for her, how guys ‘our age’ have nothing good in mind when it comes to chasing after girls? You think just because we’re his friends that rule doesn’t apply to us?”

“I don’t think that, actually,” Jaemin snorts and pulls yet another nugget from the bag. “Especially because Yeonjun was a super senior that was nearing twenty when he graduated, and had a reputation you could see from around corners for using girls like fast food napkins. That’s your big hang up? That Mark didn’t want some sleaze like that hanging around his sister?”

He has a point. But in Jeno’s mind this isn’t nearly enough to undo years and years of Mark’s theoretical judgment hanging over his neck like a guillotine.

“Yeonjun is a strong example, but it still seemed pretty clear to me that he meant that about every guy. Not just the real shitheads.”

“Then you read him wrong.”

Jeno surprises even himself when he laughs. “What makes you so sure, Na?”

“‘Cause he—” And Jaemin hesitates. All that informative bravado wavers, a visible wave of uncertainty crossing his face. “Because a few years ago he pretty much gave me permission. To go after her, I mean.”

Jeno thought for sure that after Wooyoung’s party he’d really experienced it all. The confusion, at first, as the explanation fell so casually from your mouth; Hooked up with one of your siblings friends, Somi said. But you only had one sibling, and Jeno also was pretty fucking sure he knew all of Mark’s friends since. Some itchy part of him wished you were lying— merely putting a finger down to look cool amongst the party goers and not because you’d actually lost the round, but he knew you and was therefore acutely aware of the fact that you weren’t one to play pretend for strangers.

Then, before he even had time to come to terms with why he felt so bothered by this knowledge, Somi accidentally outed this mysterious Mosquito Boy and Jeno felt like he’d just been doused in ice.

In the span of a few seconds he ran though the five stages of grief like a racecar zipping around a closed track. Denial, quick and easy, he thought Somi must’ve just been mistaken. That Jaemin probably just looked like whoever it was that you hooked up with, and in her stupor tried to connect dots that weren’t there. But not only did that stop making sense once he really thought about it— since you explicitly mentioned the lake house and Mark’s birthday, two landmarks that would be very hard to miscalculate— he’d seen the look on your face when Somi said it.

You weren’t annoyed that she got it wrong. You were terrified because she’d gotten it right.

Then came anger. Sharp and barely contained, Jeno’s eyes drifted from your face to Jaemin’s, and a wash of deep, burning… something, took him over. Jeno might not have been able to name the crime Jaemin committed, because you were both consenting adults who were fully allowed to do what they pleased and it wasn’t like Jaemin was bound by blood to tell them everything he did in his freetime, but Jeno as he watched Jaemin smile at you, none the wiser to what secret of his had just been spilled to half their class, he still felt like he was staring at someone who should be on the top of a wanted list.

There simply was no final stage of acceptance, because for the last week he’s been stuck squarely in depression. Replaying that moment on the balcony over and over again like a kid picking at a scab, moping around campus like some sort of ghost as the days went by.

He thought he’d felt it all, in the last four days. He thought that there were no more bombshells to be dropped.

This presumption is blown out of the water when, after the near fifteen seconds it takes for him to compute what Jaemin has just said, Jeno finally feels something new.

And whatever it is, the appearance of it on his face seems to worry Jaemin greatly.

“He gave you… permission?”

“Which I did nothing with,” Jaemin says with careful haste, “I didn’t. He’d just… picked up on something. He took the fact that I dote on her so much as— As a sign, or something, that I liked her, and pulled me aside one day before you and Hyuck got to their house.”

He swallows. “When?”

“Some time when we were juniors. I know it was close to summer because I just turned eighteen.” He laughs, awkwardly and a little too loud, like this is the first time he’s telling this story and is just now realizing how ridiculous it is. Jeno doesn’t laugh with him. “I asked if Rockstar was coming home ‘cause I had something for her, and he said dropped her off at her friend’s house already. Then he got this look on his face and said, super seriously, that he wouldn’t mind if she liked a guy like me. I said what, he said what, and then elaborated that he noticed how much I fuss over her and stuff, and that if I liked her more than I let on that he’d be cool with it. Said I’d— He knew I’d treat her well.”

“Cool with it,” Jeno echoes distantly. “Cool with… you. Dating Y/N.”

“I turned him down,” Jaemin tells him for some reason. “Just laughed it off, because I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Why?”

He blinks like this is the last question he was expecting Jeno to ask. “Why?”

“Obviously, you—” The words almost don’t want to come out. “You’re clearly attracted to her. I don’t see why you wouldn’t take that as a greenlight to really pursue it.”

“You’re asking me why I didn’t ask her out?”

“Yes?”

“Are you kidding? I didn’t do anything about it because of you. So you could then kill me in my sleep?”

“I wouldn’t have felt anyhow about it,” Jeno lies. “If Mark gave you his blessing then that— That has nothing to do with—”

“Yes it does, man! I only brought it up because it’s proof that Mark doesn’t just shoot blindly when it comes to who his little sister likes, and if you don’t have to worry about that, you can stop lying to yourself about what you really want. You have a chance.”

“I had a chance,” Jeno blurts before he can swallow it, truth sharp and instantly sobering. “Before the lake house. Maybe even before what I said on Saturday. But—” He remembers the look on your face on the balcony. The clear, deep hurt. Then he remembers how you looked at him an hour ago. Or how you didn’t look at him, more realistically— Casual, unbothered, composed.

Unlike him, you’ve already reached some semblance of acceptance.

“But this time I think I really messed up.”

The lights of the restaurant are too bright in his periphery. The silence is too quiet, and the air in the car is too suffocating. Again he’s grabbed by the urge to go home, and before Jaemin can say another word Jeno glances at the finally empty fast food box in his lap.

This time when the engine revs and Jeno wordlessly kicks the car into drive, Jaemin says nothing.

You owe it to her to tell her the truth, you know.

Jaemin lives in an apartment with his older brother, a few short blocks from Jeno’s own place. The ride had been mostly silent, neither of them really feeling the need to speak in lieu of the rather tense exchange they’d left behind— the first thing Jaemin said since they left the parking lot was when he was pulling in front of the building, and it was for Jeno to cut down on the moping if he didn’t want to have wrinkles by twenty-five.

Before Jeno could roll his eyes and tell him to get out, Jaemin opened the door and stepped out himself; but not without doing what he does best. Lecturing.

She’s miserable. You’re miserable. I know you know that much.

Jeno only sighed.

All because of one big miscommunication. I know you, and I like to think that after half a decade of being in her house I’d know Y/N pretty well too, and you’re both never going to be able to look at each other again without this hanging over your heads if you don’t sort it out. If you’re so sure that this is the end, then you have nothing to lose by telling her the truth about everything. Everything. How you feel now, and how you felt then. And if there’s any part of you that believes this can be saved, then you need to try as hard as you can to make sure it happens. And it starts with you manning up and telling her feelings weren’t nearly as unrequited as she thinks.

And Jeno wasn’t quite in the mood to tell him he was right, so he didn’t. Instead he squinted at Jaemin, and asked the question that’s been prickling in his mind since they pulled out of the fast food place.

“What Mark said about giving you his blessing,” he started, “You said you turned it down for me.”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Because regardless of how obtuse you are, I know what I saw. You liked her. A lot. I wasn’t getting in the way of that.”

A beat.

“And If I wasn’t there to get in the way?”

It’s a clear inquiry to Jeno, cut and dry, but Jaemin laughs like he’s just been asked a trick question. With his eyes narrowed and a cavalier smile in his expression, Jaemin stared at him as if he was thinking ‘Do you actually want to know the answer to that?’ and in that moment without a single word spoken, Jeno saw it all. There was a world quite similar to this one where they weren’t having this conversation, or talking so casually about you, or sharing advice. A world where Jaemin was a more opportunistic person who didn’t care that Jeno had liked you first; A world where they weren’t friends, but rivals.

If you weren’t in the way then she would be mine.

“I don’t think asking things like that is going to help you get the girl.”

“I would still appreciate the clarification,” Jeno said, just as vague.

“Mmm. I bet. Well, Lee Jeno,” Jaemin tapped the roof of the car twice, the whole car echoing with the force of it despite how casually he spoke, “My answer to that question is going to make you do everything but appreciate me, so how about we call a draw here, huh? Before we open that can of worms and everyone gets all… thinky.”

And they both knew that by not answering Jaemin had actually replied loud and clear. But once he heeded his words— really sat there and thought about it, what good it would do for anyone if Jeno knew how Jaemin really felt about you, he found himself agreeing.

Maybe ignorance is bliss.

“You smell like french fries,” Jeno called offhandedly, as Jaemin retreated closer and closer to the revolving doors of his building. He turns right as Jeno steps out of the driver's seat, just in time to catch the tiny cologne he keeps in the console for emergencies. “No chance Jaehyun won’t clock you.”

Jaemin cooed. “So thoughtful you are, No-Jam! If you weren’t so buff and scary, Y/N-ie might’ve had competition.”

And for the first time all night, maybe even all week, Jeno felt a genuine laugh.

[♥︎]: and there it is, folks! please leave a like if you enjoyed! it REALLY gives me the motivation to work on this faster! plus, yay, new chapter after a literal entire year, LOL

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anki-of-beleriand · 5 months

Text

Bad Liar Ch. 9

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers

Warnings: Slow burn - slightly Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - idiots in love - homophobia - more tags as the story progress.

Author's note: Reader and Wanda are confronted by others in regards to their growing feelings, an accident shakes Reader's world, and America and Kate are just two idiots in love.

As always, English is no my mother tongue, so please forgive the grammar, spelling and funny mistakes!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 9

The vulnerability of love

The soccer field was completely drenched, the field completely unkempt after the soccer team training session every single one of them getting ready for the final match on Saturday.

Even in the midst of such a cold mid-morning, everyone was still filling out the soccer field with some of the team members practicing with the ball and others simply warming up. It had been a small morning, and America hated to be just a spectator to what had been happening from more than twenty minutes. They were supposed to enjoy lunch time out in the open, Kate had been quite insistent to just go over the field and America didn’t understand why until they met with a very sweaty and drenched Riri Williams waiting for them.

America rolled her eyes clenching the thermos flask Kate had left to her care just so she could go down the stands and joined Rori in her training session. America clenched her jaw watching as her best friend giggled while allowing Williams to put her hands on her waist, Williams leaned in whispering something in Kate’s ear and the young woman flushed shaking her head while wriggling her hands nervously. America didn’t know when Kate had taken interested in soccer, she had always been a sports fan but this particular sport was never something she paid closed attention to. Not until now.

Not until she found out Riri Williams was the Captain of the team and they had started talking almost every day ever since Riri helped them out with Wanda’s file.

“You either are going to throw that to Williams, or you're going to break it.” Loki stated leaning back on his elbows, he tilted his head smirking at America. “Personally, I'm bored so I wouldn't say no to you starting something up with Williams.”

Yelena snorted, slapping Loki on his head, Kamala huffed, pressing her lips together. From that distance they couldn’t hear what Riri and Kate had been talking about, but it was something that had made Kate nervous, she would glance up towards her friend every once in a while before shaking her head and pressing Williams into teaching her some moves.

“I don't think America stands a chance…” Kamala said all of a sudden, America turned sharply towards her glaring at her friend who smiled apologetically.

“What the hell is that supposed to be, Kamala?” America exclaimed as she pointed a finger to the field, eyes narrowing. “I could take Williams with my eyes closed if I wanted to!”

Kamala winced looking for some support but finding herself alone in her argument, she opened her mouth to speak but Yelena beat her to it.

“Look at those legs, that abdomen, that skin…” Yelena leaned back patting Kamala on her back. “I'm with Khan on this one, Williams could take you in a fight, and Kate would finish the job if you mess with her girl.”

America was building a counterargument passing around the edges of the stands when Yelena’s words hit her brain. She faltered in her footsteps, and that was all it took for she too lose her footing and slipped down the group of stairs, America could hear the screams from Loki and Yelena, but her world soon became a mixture of colours and blurry images as pain filled her senses. She hit the ground with a heavy thud, the air leaving her lungs as her mouth opened in a silent scream, America clenched her eyes for a moment, her lips parting to let out a whimper filled with pain.

“America!”

The young woman heard her name being called but her mind was still trapped in the piercing pain she felt on her back, arms and legs. A warm sweaty hand placed itself on her forehead, she fluttered her eyes open to see Kate's worried frown and her lips pulled into a thin line.

“I didn't spill the chocolate.” America said, offering a pained smile.

“You're an idiot.” Kate said affectionately, she lifted her face to see Riri coming over with the coach and the assistant. “Stay here, Riri is bringing help.”

America winced, rolling her eyes, “woah, the hero to save the day, fantastic.”

Kate frowned at the sarcasm dripping from America's tone. She was about to say something but soon the coach put her away to see how bad the young woman on the ground had hit herself.

Kate turned around to see Kamala, Yelena and Loki leaning forward torn between being worried and amused. She placed her hands on her waist glaring at them.

“What did you guys do?” The question came accompanied by a hiss, Loki and Yelena looked at one another then at Kamala. “Guys…”

“We did nothing, Kate Bishop.” Yelena shrugged. “She was just a little worked up because you were too distracted with your girl over there.”

“And we kind of point out that she could take America in a fight and that you wouldn't take it lightly if America were to mess with your girl, that’s when she fell.”

Kate opened her mouth to retort until she frowned cocking her head to the side.

“My girl?” She blinked away a couple of times, then her eyes turned into a fierce glare as she finally caught up with her friend's game. “You guys…”

“Hey, Kate, we have to take her to the infirmary.” Riri came from behind her, placing a hand on Kate's shoulder.

“What? Why? Is she okay?” Kate forgot all about her friends and focused her attention on America who was being put on a stretcher, Riri tried to offer a comforting smile but Kate could see there was something else bothering the other girl.

“She is going to be okay, but she may need some medical attention, an X-ray and perhaps painkillers and a good massage. She bruised her back, and ass, so perhaps you could help her out with that massage.” Riri winked playfully at a now blushing Kate who was torn between being completely worried and slightly embarrassed by the comment.

“You can go with her; they’re taking her to the infirmary.” Riri placed a hand on Kate’s arm, her lips curling in a comforting smile. “Go on, I bet you're dying to do just that, play the nurse and everything…”

“Shut up, Williams.” Kate hesitated for a moment before mumbling. “Thank you.”

Without wasting any more time, she sent her friends one last glare before joining the coach and his assistant that were carrying America on the stretcher.

“Don't you guys think you're taking this too far?” Riri asked, turning to the group.

“No.”

“Yes.”

Kamal shrugged sitting down on the bench, she pointed a finger to Loki and Yelena.

“I think we should stop before this end in a tragedy.” Kamala made a gesture with her hand pointing to the ground and Riri. “It is fun and games at first, but you know this could end in a heartbreak.”

“Oh, Kam, don't be overly dramatic.” Loki exclaimed, his elbows on his knees. “Everything has gone according to plan, and Williams here has had her fun as well.”

“Besides, I think this is the best way to make those idiots finally give in.” Yelena kicked the grass tilting her head. “Though, I have to admit the probability of this ending badly is high.”

Kamala set her eyes on Riri who lifted her arms and shook her head.

“Don't look at me, I'm here for the ride.” She smirked, putting her hands on her hips. “And it has been fun and all, but I think one of these days Chavez is gonna break my nose or something.”

Kamala rested her chin on the palm of her hand, she couldn't shake the feeling this was a bad idea, but she had to admit the plan was solid. She lifted her dark eyes to Riri who was now engaged in a conversation with Loki and Yelena.

The day was growing older, Kamala huffed thinking about her conversation with Kate and the confusion growing inside Bishop. They all had one year left in school before they would need to part ways and start college. They had all been friends since kindergarten, and while at first everyone thought of going to the same University and be together forever, they each had started taking measures to ensure their future. Kate and America had been so reluctant to grow in that aspect of their life's, and while America had been protected by her sister taking over the family business, Kate was not so lucky.

“You look thoughtful, is there something you're not telling us?” Loki sat beside Kamala watching as Riri taught Yelena how to kick the ball.

“Next year we are all gonna be so busy trying to enter into a university and decide what to do…” Kamala broke into a nostalgic smile. “I think America and Kate are thinking about that responsibility, you know?”

“I thought you shipped them together.” Loki stated, Kamala rolled her eyes at the term.

“I do! They are so good together.”

“Then, why are you so worried? This plan is going to work.”

“Loki, what if they have to end everything after having gotten just a year of relationship?” Now Kamala grabbed Loki by his forearm, glistening eyes showing the deep emotion she was experiencing and Loki could do nothing more than to roll his eyes.

“You know that's ridiculous, right? They had been in love with one another since America gave her lunch to Kate after she dropped hers by tangling on her feet.”

Kamala giggled remembering the first time they had met America in school. At least, the first time they had talked to one another. Loki hesitated, pressing his lips for an instant before letting out a suffering sigh, his right arm wrapped comfortingly around Kamala's back.

“Everything is going to be fine, Kam, this is just a push in the right direction, but in reality this is something that will happen sooner than later.”

And Kamala had to believe that.

She knew Kate was still afraid to tell everyone about her decision, and America had never made it a secret of what she wanted in life. Sooner or later they would need to part ways, so why not let love find a way?

______________________

Wanda Maximoff strolled down the hallway, her hands busy texting you as she approached the infirmary. She chewed on her lower lip seeing as her messages went through but left unread.

It had been a couple of days since she had last seen you, and just a couple of hours since she last spoke with you. Wanda found herself once more in a turmoil of emotions with you at the centrefold. It certainly had been too long since she had so much fun and found herself relaxing and enjoying her time with the twins and anybody else for that matter. A small smile played on her lips, her chat with you filled with nonsense and meaningful conversations that made Wanda's heart flutter with longing.

Not for a single moment had Wanda stopped to think about the consequences of the game she had been playing with you. She had tricked herself into believing that whatever she was experimenting was normal, that it was something she could control but that little by little had sneaked inside her heart whenever she talked to you, whenever you smiled at her, whenever she was closed to you.

“Professor!” Kate Bishop stood up rather quickly, her eyes wide and filled with a spark of concern that translated into a terse smile. Wanda broke from her thoughts seeing Kate coming her way with a frown attached to her features.

“Hey, Kate, are you alright?” Wanda placed a soothing hand on Kate's shoulder, and the young woman nodded curtly.

“She hurt herself pretty badly, such an idiot!” Kate turned around lifting her hands in the air while pacing around the small waiting room.

Wanda dropped her shoulders, her thumb caressing the carcass of her phone. She followed Kate while the young woman ranted half exasperated and half concerned. It was not a secret that Kate and America had been best friends since forever, and for Wanda it had been quite evident both girls seemed to be at the edges of something else.

The woman stopped her trail of thoughts when you came into her mind. The similarities were there as well, but Wanda knew without a hint of a doubt that you and her were friends. Just good friends. Nothing else. It couldn't be, it was not possible. Wanda was no gay and you… Well, you were, but Wanda wasn't. And even if Wanda was, or entertained the idea, you were taken. Not that…

“Professor?” Wanda jerked awake from her internal rant, she turned to see Kate watching her with curiosity and some exasperation at being ignored.

“Sorry, Kate I…” Wanda made a gesture with her hand to cover up her lack of attention.

Kate huffed, pursing her lips to the side.

“Your phone was ringing, and Doctor Sue wants to see you.”

“Right, let me see what they need.”

Wanda covered her flustered face entertaining herself with the phone. There was a new message and this time around the fluttering in her heart intensified, and her stomach dropped deliciously.

I know, Tasha just called, I just left my office and I’m making my way over there, Wands. I’ll be there in 30 minutes, thank you for telling me. See you in a few.

“Wanda?” Sue Storm stretched her hand towards the newcomer, she smiled nodding backwards. “She is in there, I have to give her a sedative because she was in pain.”

“Thank you, Sue, is it too bad?” Wanda tried to get a glimpse of the bed in which America was now fast asleep.

“Well, not too bad.” Sue made a face signalling a chair, Wanda sat down with Sue who fixed her hair while chuckling. “At this time of the year, when they are not careful, these kinds of accidents do happen. And America is…”

“Prone to them?” Wanda contributed; Sue made a face nodding.

“Yes, I guess it's only normal, Y/N was the same when we were in school.” Sue chuckled, lifting her eyes to the ceiling before turning to Wanda. “She will need some x-rays just to make sure everything is alright, and probably won't be able to come to school for a while, her back and legs are all bruised up.”

Wanda winced chewing on her lower lip, she dropped her eyes to her mobile and her fingers flickered with her unconscious desire to text you.

“Have you talked to her?” Sue asked softly, Wanda lifted her head frowning.

“America?”

Sue held back her amusement, “no, Y/N. I know you two are like friends, right?”

Wanda hated the warmth she felt on her cheeks, and the knowing glance the doctor was sending her way was somewhat unnerving. It was the same stare she received from Natasha, or from Hope whenever Wanda decided to talk about you. Or rant against you, depending on her mood.

“Oh, I…Yeah, we are, I just talked to her…” Wanda hesitated for a moment, bouncing her left leg and she opened her phone but you had not written anything yet.

“She said she will be here in 30 minutes.”

“Perfect, I guess that covers it.” Sue stood up pointing to the bed in which America was asleep. “I guess we can let Kate come in before she opens a hole in my waiting room.”

Wanda chuckled, nodding in agreement.

“She is worried.”

“That she is, you want to see her or are going to wait for Y/N?”

There it was once more, the tone of voice and the glance that told Wanda everyone knew something she didn't. It was slightly unnerving, and Wanda couldn't shake the feeling that it was as if she had been discovered. As if her attraction for you was so evident everyone was amused by it. But it wasn't possible. It couldn't be. Right?

“America is my student so I will wait for her sister to make sure she can…I mean, so…”

“So she can take America to the doctor?” Sue helped the other woman when Wanda seemed a little lost for words.

“Yeah, that. Yes.”

Sue shook her head, now she understood why Natasha and Hope had been torn between being amused and concerned about this newfound friendship. Wanda looked a little lost, while you usually were so easily smitten. Sue observed as Wanda allowed Kate inside the room while talking softly to her, America completely asleep for the time being.

Then Kate went to America and Wanda left. Sue put her phone away dialling a well-known number.

“Hey, Stephen, how are you?”

The parking lot was almost empty, you sighed getting out of the car with your earphones still on.

You think you can be here in an hour?

“Yeah, Stephen, don't worry, I'll be there with America, I just got to school so…” You strolled down the sidewalk towards the main building.

Good, Sue told me it was probably nothing but wants to make sure so let me know and I send for the both of you. And make sure you take her out on a wheelchair.

Your heart dropped at those words, your hands were sweaty at the thought of America being hurt. The moment Natasha called you to inform you about the accident your world stood still. She had assured you it was nothing bad, and soon after Wanda had made the same comment trying to ease out your worries. But this was your little sister, and hearing the word accident brought forth unwelcome memories.

“Hey, you're here.” You faltered in your steps turning to see Wanda coming towards you.

In a moment of sudden vulnerability you hugged her tightly, your whole body relaxing as soon as she allowed her arms around you. Her warmth and body comforting your aching heart.

“Y/N, are you alright?” She whispered, her hand caressing your hair.

“Yeah, I just…thank you.” You stepped back, your body going rigid and whatever flickered of weakness disappeared almost instantly.

“It's okay, she is fine. It was a simple fall but…”

“It was an accident.” You stated bitterly, Wanda frowned but you waved away her confusion.

“Come I need to see her and then I'm taking her to see Stephen.”

Before you could resume your walk a single hand wrapped around yours. Your air caught in your throat, and your heart stopped beating as Wanda came closer to you, her free hand cupping your cheek. For a moment you thought she was going to kiss you, and Wanda entertained such an idea by letting her eyes drop to your lips then to your eyes. She leaned in placing a single kiss on your cheek.

You let out a single gasp, her hand tightening around yours and while she stepped back the distance between the both of you was almost non-existent.

“America is going to be fine, for what I heard she is as tough as her sister, also prone to such troublesome outcomes.” Wanda offered a comforting smile that you couldn't help but return.

“Thank you.”

Wanda smiled shyly at you, looking away before she did something that could destroy the friendship she was forging with you. You hesitated and then leaned in placing a kiss on her forehead, your arms sneaking around her waist pulling her closer to you.

“I mean it, Wands. Thank you.”

Wanda was left in the hall, her heart almost coming out of her chest and her skin imprinting the memory of your lips on her forehead, your body so close to hers. She tried to regulate her heartbeat, and then with a longing she had never felt before followed you into the infirmary.

_______________________

America couldn’t help the grin adorning her features at the sight of Kate and you fuzzing around her fixing everything in her room to make these days more passable. You brought some more pillows, and Kate went right on to fix them around America smiling at her friend while letting the flicker of concern shadow her stare.

“Are you sure you don't need anything else?” You checked the pillows and the blankets, making sure America had the two bottles of water and the medication for the pain.

“I can make sure to bring something else, if you need anything at all.” Continued Kate wriggling her hands in front of her.

“Shouldn’t you be home? Today is a school night, Katie Kate.”

“Ugh, you know I hate that nickname.” Kate rolled her eyes pressing her lips together while making her way to the chair near the window. “And I brought my bag, and mom will send for me later on, so I’m going to do my homework with you and keep you company, so suck it up, Chavez, you’re stuck with me until I said so.”

America softened her features; she followed Kate with her eyes missing your expression of amusement. You stood there for a brief moment, the medication and the water on the bedside table, as well as everything America could need if the night became too much for her. The fact that Kate had come over to help you out had been a great plus, and it had given you the chance to take a deep breath and be there for your sister.

Once Kate had started babbling about homework and facetime with Loki, Kamala and Yelena, America could turn her attention to you. You had been standing in complete silence on the side, the young woman knew she had been quite an idiot for falling down the stands at school. The doctors had been optimistic, and while she had not broken anything, it was quite obvious she hurt her back pretty dumbly. A part of her was embarrassed by the accident while another part was sorry for the fact she was making you overreact with the care and attention she was giving you. America tried to calm you down, perhaps providing you with some jokes or easy words. But at the moment she was just tired and in pain, the only thing she wanted was to be sedated.

“You know there is a new TV show you may like, and I already talked to Tasha and sent her over the medical records for your sick leave notes.” You broke your silence all of a sudden, America nodded pressing her lips together.

“So no chance of missing out on school?” She asked, you snorted and Kate huffed in disbelief.

“Of course not! And you need to be on top form because the festival is two weeks away.” Kate commented, America made a face shrugging.

“I don’t think I wanna go…”

“You have to!” You and Kate stated at the same time, Kate looked almost horrified by the idea and you looked hopefully at your sister.

“I am the one organizing this, and if I’m going to be a chaperone you better be there, kiddo.” Then, as if you were trying to convince yourself nothing was wrong, that you were fine, you started talking about all the things you and Wanda had planned so far.

You were almost babbling by then, after having you completely silent during the afternoon, America was slightly concerned at your sudden talkative persona. You busied yourself by arranging America's clothes, and some books, for a moment everything seemed okay until you just stopped what you were doing and stood watching to her bookshelf where a picture of her and yourself was resting.

“You know? This is nothing, I just didn't calculate my steps and the bleachers were slippery.” America gauged your expression trying to see your face waiting to know what you were thinking exactly, Kate let her eyes wander from you then back to America trying to understand the sudden change of topic coming from America.

“And you heard uncle Stephen, I'm gonna be fine.”

“I know.” You turned to her making your way to where she was resting comfortably. “That’s why you need to get better, Kiddo, so you can go to the dance with us…so, everything will be fine.”

You leaned in to place a kiss on her forehead, America opened her mouth to say something but she knew at the moment you were just trying to pretend everything was fine. She sighed glancing at Kate out of the corner of her eyes.

“I love you.” America screamed out before you left the room, your eyebrows shot upwards and your lips finally curved into a tiny smile.

“Love you too, kiddo. Do your homework and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Both Kate and America blushed as you left chuckling closing the door behind you.

You finally sat down on your sofa with the sound of a random TV show filling up the empty living room. You closed your eyes, resting your head on the back of the sofa letting the sounds washed away your concerns and the fears that had erupted inside you that day. You could smell the sweet aroma of the whisky you had pour for yourself, but you didn’t dare to drink; it wasn’t so much that you need it, but it was a comfort to busy yourself with just about anything you could.

Your life has taken on quite a turn as of late.

Your weekend had been filled with magic and discoveries, the time you spent with Wanda and the kids had filled you out with a longing you were not familiar with. You had laughed, and you had relaxed, you had shared and you had never before had so much fun or felt so safe by being around someone such as Wanda. Your heart fluttered at the memory, and your mind was a whirlpool of possibilities of what would happen if you were just to take a leap of faith with the other woman. Would it be worthy? Would she want it? Would she want you in the same way you wanted her?

Sometimes you thought you saw the signs there, in the way she looked at you with such a warmth glint and that tender smile. In the way she let her touches linger, or how she always seemed to be closer to you, to lean into your touch and just let the tension built up to the point you and her waited for something to give in. For something to happen.

Then, there were times in which you remembered she was married, that her husband was still out there and that she probably was not even interested in women. Perhaps that was Wanda’s way to be a friend, and you coming onto her would be just wrong. Unnecessary. Perhaps, even unwelcome.

As if that wasn’t enough, you had been under a lot of pressure ever since you signed the contract with Jarvis. The man was unbelievable, and he certainly thought highly of himself; not only had he come to the office as if he owned the place, but he had also been trying to get into your good graces by disrupting your meetings and your office whenever he wanted it. It had only been one day, but you were about ready to call Fury and tell him you would no longer keep up the façade. Maria had been the one talking you out of it, reminding you this was for the greater good and that it wouldn’t take too long before they got the man. Still, your had life had complicated just a little bit more when, in one of those rants Jarvis threw your way that day, Monica Rambeau decided to barge in and demand answers about your break-up with Carol.

Carol Danvers would always be your biggest what-if, and your biggest regret. She had always been your friend, and as such, you loved her very much. When you two decided to start a relationship, you had done so ignorant of her feelings for you, and while this didn’t excuse you for using her, you always thought it was a game for her as much as it was for you. You sighed remembering just as Monica said Carol had left that day, no good-bye and no announcements. She just left.

And while you would always be there for Crol, you couldn’t help but thing of what you could not give her, the love that she so deserved and that now seemed to pour out of you in waves towards a single individual you thought impossible.

Wanda Maximoff.

The woman was a complete mystery to you. Her mannerism, her wit and her contradictory personality were some of the things that had enchanted you from the first moment. Getting to know her had been a plus you never thought would happen, and now that you were seeing a part of her you didn't even suspect you knew you were in deep trouble. Wanda had spent most of her time in your mind, and you were still trying to decipher why and how.

“God, I'm a mess.” You shook your head glancing at the stairs and wondering how America and Kate were doing.

You felt the tears prickling your eyes, the suffocating weigh in your chest wanting nothing more than to explode. You clenched your eyes close, the warm sensation of tears rolling down your cheeks brought a grimace to your face. You hated crying.

The sound of a single bell called your attention, you dropped your eyes stopping the overwhelming emotions you were experimenting at the moment.

Your heart leaped contentedly when you noticed the name on the screen.

Can you open the door?

You straightened up, eyes wide opened glancing at the screen then at the door. For a brief moment you just tried to process what was happening until you heard a shy knock on the door. You sprang into action going straight to the door, the sight that greeted you brought a grin to your lips.

Wanda was standing right there, her hands full and the twins standing before her. They were hesitant at first, glancing from you then to Wanda before Tommy stepped forward hugging you tightly.

“Hi, Y/N.” Tommy leaned back showing a toothy grin. “Mummy thought you may need us to be happy, and to make America feel better.”

Wanda opened her eyes blushing profusely at Tommy's words. You arched a single brow ruffling the kid's hair.

“Well, Mommy knows best, right?” You winked at Wanda who was now mortified, Billy frowned stepping closer stretching his hand to you.

“Is America fine? Can we see her?”

“Well, I think she is doing her homework with Kate at the moment.” You could see the disappointment in the kid's face, it took you but a minute before you moved from the door. “But you know what? I bet she would love to have you two coming over to say hi, perhaps help her and Kate a little?”

“Can we?” Billy perked up following you inside the house with Tommy closed behind.

“Sure, but you guys need to make sure Kate and America behaved themselves, deal?”

“Deal!” They exclaimed at the same time.

America and Kate were completely surprised by the twins entering the room running to America and making sure the young woman knew she was missed. Kate chuckled when they tried to go into bed, until America winced in pain and they jumped out of bed scare of having hurt America even worse.

The room was soon filled with excited chatter, and while you stood by the door with Wanda, Kate made sure to look at you and her Professor with care. Wanda was far too close to you to be normal, Wanda’s hand was twitching by her side almost brushing against your own hand, and while your eyes were on the twins and America, Wanda had hers on you.

You watched from afar, smiling at the sight. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Wanda smiling as well. The packages she had been carrying were left in the hall downstairs. You stepped back, your hand resting on Wanda's shoulder. The young woman turned to you following you downstairs.

“This was quite unexpected, Wands.” You commented glancing at the bags with curiosity.

“I thought you may appreciate this.” Wanda lifted one of the bags, handing it over to you.

You snorted, lifting your stare to her, inside the first bag she handled you there was a big bowl of poke. You glanced at the other two, finding more food, your heart shivering at the gesture.

“You didn't have to…” You started but Wanda ignored you grabbing the bags making her way to the kitchen.

“I'm pretty sure you have not eaten at all, and America must be the same. So I thought we could eat together, I didn’t count on Kate being here but I know I brought enough food for everyone.” The confidence Wanda felt when she made the decision of buying for left her as soon as she found herself standing far too close to you.

You were looking at her blankly, not a single expression on your face while your eyes pierced her soul. Wanda fidgeted, her eyes flickering around your face, then she parted her lips and you knew all you had to do was close the distance and you would know how sweet those lips were.

Wanda from her part was completely frozen, her mind blank and deep into an ocean of possibilities. Each one of them was scarier than the previous one. She just had to lean in, to give in and she would cross a line she had never crossed before. If Wanda were to give in, she could end up in a heartbreak.

The moment was broken by Wanda, she dropped her gaze stepping forward to give you a friendly hug. You closed your eyes, your lips pressed together while your heart sank. It was a mistake, and you almost crossed a line that should never be crossed with a friend.

“I know today was not ideal, Y/N, I just thought food and some friendly company could help some.” Wanda sealed the hug with words that pierced deep inside your soul.

It hurt.

And you hated the fact that it hurt so much.

“Thank you, I just… She is my little sister, you know?”

You both parted leaving a great distance in between, Wanda nodded in understanding dancing around the kitchen to grab some plates and get the food ready.

“I know, let me help you with this, perhaps we can work some on the festival while we eat.”

“Yeah, sure that sounds good.”

The tension never left, and the casual touches and the brush of hands became a constant during your time serving dinner. You had to remind yourself that for Wanda you were a friend and that the young woman was straight as an arrow, probably in a disagreement with her husband that could end up with the redhead back in his arms. And while you fought yourself with conflicting emotions, Wanda had to remind herself that you were already engaged with someone else, and that she had never even considered dating a woman. The fact that she felt attracted to you was not as bothersome as she might have thought initially.

Both women kept gravitating around one another, unbeknownst to them the twins, Kate and America were paying close attention to their interaction, their closeness… The unsaid emotions that were quite evident, if seen as innocent, by the most important people in their lives.

America scowled deeply at your smile, the flush in your cheeks, hearing laughter of pure delight, the flirtatious conversation. She then glanced at Wanda observing how the other woman leaned closer. The tension was palpable from a distance.

It was right there and then, America knew you needed to know everything about Wanda Maximoff before it was far too late.

The question was, how should she tell you such news?

_____________________

Hope shivered lightly on her chair, her eyes following the restless form of Wanda that was ranting about her week so far. The session had started like any other, just small talk about the tasks Hope left Wanda for the week and how the young woman had made progress with them.

There was a moment in between that conversation that Y/N had popped up in the conversation making Wanda change completely. Hope found it quite interesting, placing questions here and there until Wanda was babbling terrified about you and how wonderful it was to be with you. How her children love you and America, and how Wanda was left in an ocean of confusion every time she was around you.

Hope never thought whatever relationship the both of you share would become in this. Sure, she considered a friendship, perhaps even a crush but Wanda was certainly affected by you, she was completely shaken by her feelings for you.

“And we just… We ended up having dinner with her and America again, and she was…” Wanda passed her hand through her hair, her eyes glistening with unshed tears she remembered your smile, the warm of your caressed, your words as the both of you pretend to be working on the festival.

“Y/N is a sweet soul, you know?” Hope leaned back, interlocking her fingers. “She can be tough and decisive, but deep down she really is a softie and she always loves without measure, she gives herself to family and friends even if that costs her own soul.”

Wanda stopped harshly in front of the windows, she didn't need to hear such a description to know it to be true. She had seen it, how you would do the impossible to make everyone happy. To perhaps, make things easier for them.

“I…I think…” Wanda turned around with the words at the tip of her tongue, her eyes finding the knowing stare in Hope's eyes.

“Have you ever felt this way before?” Hope didn't need to add anything else to the question, doing so might lead to Wanda trying to hide her emotions, and besides the revelation must come from her.

Wanda wrapped her arms around herself looking away. No. Yes. She was never allowed to feel, to experiment, to decide. But, she had felt things when younger, and once she was old she had tried to see the possibilities, but many of them had been beating out of her.

“I haven't.” She whispered, leaning back against the window.

“And, what do you think about this?” Hope inquired softly, Wanda pressed her lips looking away from Hope.

“I think it's wrong.” She stated after a while.

Hope leaned forward furrowing her brows, Wanda carried with her a heavy weight that was putting her down and filling her with guilt and uncertainty. Hope could see the conflicting emotions running through those green eyes, the way she was holding onto her convictions but also how she was letting herself be the person she was supposed to be.

“Really? Why?”

Wanda opened her mouth then closed it again, she leaned back lifting her head and her eyes stared at the ceiling.

“I'm not supposed to.” Every word seemed to take a toll on her, it was like a painful reminder of everything she was starting to change in her life.

“I have two children, and I have a husband.”

“You're divorcing him, though.”

Wanda smiled bitterly, dropping her arms to her sides.

“I like men.” She said with finality, Hope hummed tilting her head.

“Do you?”

The question caught Wanda by surprise, she liked men, right?

“How many men did you date before going out with Vision?”

Wanda readied her answer but soon stopped herself when no words came out. She looked away slightly annoyed by this, she didn't understand why she had to give explanations.

“I don't remember.” She said flatly.

“You don't? That's pretty curious…”

“No, it is not. It was a long time ago, and I really don't remember.” Wanda defended herself, her passing around the room resuming all of a sudden.

“I just know I like men. She can't… I mean, I can't…”

Hope sighed knowing Wanda's stubborn nature was coming into play and that the younger woman was not ready to admit anything at all. The room fell into a tense silence, and Hope had to wonder how affected were you by the same situation. Were you as confused or you were already hooked up with these newfound emotions? The last time she spoke with you Hope could hear the affection in your voice, she could tell Wanda was becoming someone important to you.

Wanda sat down once more she rested her face on her hands, her voice carried through the room shaking Hope to the core.

“You don't understand, Hope.” Wanda was trembling and the other woman was pretty sure that she was crying. “I can't let myself feel anything for her, I am far too damaged, far too lost and she… She has someone else, and I couldn't be…what she wants. I just… I don't know how to stop feeling like this.”

Hope softened her stare, and by the time Wanda locked her eyes with hers Hope could see the rampage emotions going through Wanda.

“What are you feeling Wanda?”

But Wanda didn't answer, she just sobbed and clenched her eyes closed feeling foolish for being weak. Hope wished the other woman wasn't so hard on herself, she knew whatever Wanda was experimenting would pass but she certainly needed for Y/N to do something to clarify the situation or this would end up in a heartbreak.

The question in here was, were you ready to give the first step?

Only time would tell.

______________________

“Hey, Kiddo, how are you feeling?” You stood up rather quickly making your way towards America who was wincing with each footstep she took.

“I feel horrible, but better than yesterday.” She gritted her teeth holding onto you. “I think I'm still sore and I hate that I can’t recover faster.”

“You should be resting.”

“Ugh, please I'm tired of being in bed, let me help you around or something.” America leaned forward pouting and making eyes at you.

You snorted pointing towards the counter where there were tomatoes ready to be cut. America smirked in triumph setting to work and help you with dinner, she grabbed the knife until her eyes fell on your mobile and the name of Wanda popped up all of a sudden. The music you usually put on while making dinner filling out the kitchen, and the sweet aroma of pasta filled the air. America observed as you waltzed around the kitchen, a smile playing on your lips in ways she had not seen in a very long time.

Not even with Carol.

The young woman furrowed her brows, her eyes coming back to the mobile then to the task at hand. She had not read the messages that you and Wanda had exchanged when talking over the phone, but America had seen enough of your interaction with the other woman to know that there was something there. That you had started developing feelings for her; America hesitated almost grabbing your phone but she decided against it.

“You’re awfully quiet, Kid, what is it?” You cleaned your hands on the washcloth on the stove, your eyes gleaming contentedly at America. “Are feeling okay?”

“Are you?” America asked back, she focused on the tomatoes making sure they were cut correctly before passing them over to you.

You felt your shoulders put backwards, your lips forming a thin line before letting out a heavy sigh.

“I was a little out of it when I heard you hurt yourself, America.” You grabbed the tomatoes putting them together in the blender with the rest of the ingredients for the sauce. “I was really worried, but I’m better now.”

America hesitated for a moment before speaking again, “that’s not what I meant, Y/N.”

You raised an eyebrow at her, America huffed tapping the table.

“Lately, you have been different.” She stated as subtle as she could, you nodded tentatively at her but didn’t interrupt her.

America tilted her head, wincing lightly while looking for the closest chair. You observed as the younger woman stall the conversation, as if she was afraid to say or ask what was so obvious bothering her as of late. You waited patiently trying to think of a reason for America to be this restless towards you.

“How are things with Carol?” The question caught you by surprised, you thought by now America knew what had happened but you realised that the time you had spent with your sister as of late was minimal and whenever the both of you were together Wanda and the twins were in the middle of it.

America scowled noticing how shocked you seemed by the question, you opened your mouth and then closed it your cheeks changing colour while your eyes looked away from her.

“What is it?” This time around America’s tone was demanding. “What happened?”

“I broke things up with her, last Monday.” You stated simply, shrugging while returning your attention back to the dinner.

This time around America was the shocked one, not a friend of you having casual sex with a woman that so obviously was in love with you, America had come to like the blond-haired woman and was hopping that she would be the one to put you out of the dark hole you had fallen into after the break-up with Shuri. The fact you decided to break things up even after you had decided to give the other woman a chance was all America needed to know to talk to you about her recent discoveries and concerns.

“Why? I thought you were going to give the relationship a chance?” America could see this was a topic you were not overly excited to talk about.

“I just thought it was not fair to continue something that wouldn’t go anywhere, Carol got the opportunity of her life to move to the other side of the world and I just…I couldn’t.” You let everything stirring on the stove while facing your younger sister.

The younger woman was glancing at you with a knowing stare you hated and loved. It was so easy to forget you were the older of the two, and you were supposed to be the responsible one. You remembered the time in which America had been crying, asking for your forgiveness after Shuri had left you broken-hearted. She blamed herself, perhaps if America hadn’t been there and you didn’t have to take up the responsibility you two would be together still.

Family comes first, America, and you are my family, if she can’t understand that then she doesn’t deserve me.

That was the moment you had decided to move on, for yourself and for America. Now, standing before you were a more mature woman that knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes, and you knew she was always in the lookout for you to be happy.

“Y/N, this has nothing to do with Professor Maximoff, is it?” America asked tentatively, you almost fell down at such suggestion your eyes opening wide as if you had been caught doing something you were not supposed be doing.

America rolled her eyes when you opened and closed your mouth, the babbling started with half-formed explanations and sputtering words that America stopped lifting a single hand.

“I knew it! You ended things with Carol because of Wanda?! Why?!” America was now pointing a finger at you. “Y/N what the hell is going in on?”

You were trying to talk to her, but America kept on pressuring you into talking, and you were trying to get half-witted explanations that had nothing to do with what you knew was happening inside your heart.

“I swear to God, you hate her a few months ago!”

“I may like her a lot!”

The room fell into a heavy silence.

America and you were breathing hard, both of you looking at one another while the sound of boiling sauce echoed through your ears. America lowered her hand on the table, she grabbed your phone shaking her head with conflicting emotions crossing her face. You frowned not really understanding where this sudden change towards Wanda came from.

“You had been talking to her, haven’t you? She is the one that has been putting that stupid smile in your face, and the one that has made you so…annoying as of late.” America locked her eyes with yours waiting for an answer.

“I just…I…” You hesitated and America lowered the phone.

“You really like her.” America mumbled, you walked around the counter placing hand on your sister’s shoulder.

“What is it? I mean, I thought you would be happy or something, you’re always telling me I should settle down, or look for love or something.” You gauged your sister’s face trying to see where her discomfort came from.

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” America shrugged. “And, Professor Maximoff has two children, and she may not be who you think she is.”

You broke into an easy smile, “hey, Kiddo, I like her, yes. But I also know she may not like me back, I know that.”

“It didn’t stop you from being an idiot and liking her.” America retorted knowing you were not ready to hear the deepness of your own emotions.

You offered a bitter smile shrugging, “we cannot help who we like, America. But I’m gonna be okay, I promise you, is that what had you so worried? That she may hurt me?”

America winced nodding, she flushed turning away from you when you ruffled her hair and wrapped her into a tight hug.

“Oh, lil’ sister, I’m gonna be fine, don’t worry so much.” You chuckled, your heart tugging inside your chest at the small gesture of sisterly love from America.

America went to say something else but your next words stopped her completely.

“I know she is married, and I know that I don’t stand a chance, so…don’t worry. She is a friend, and I will make sure to not cross that line with her.”

“You know she is married?” America blinked her confusion; you nodded a flash of sadness crossing your eyes. “But, Y/N, her husband…”

But whatever America was about to say about the marriage was cut suddenly by the ring of the door. You perked up wiggling your eyebrows, America was slightly confused glancing around the table to see five spots on.

“Are we waiting on someone?” She asked, and you chuckled.

“I invited someone over, I know you would like the surprise.”

You ran over to the door and right there stood Hope with Scott and Caisie. America’s face lit up and she had to stopped herself from running when Hope came right at her engulfing her in a tight embrace.

“HOPE!”

“America!”

You smiled closing the door behind them, Scott grinned goofily wrapping his own arms around you.

“Damn, Y/N, is so good to see you again!”

“You too, Scott, I missed you guys so much.” Scott nodded watching as the rest of the women went right away to the kitchen hearing America babbled about her accident.

“We missed you too, you know? Hope was driving us crazy with her constant worry and indecision to just suck it up and come talk to you.”

You offered a tired smile to the man in front of you.

“She wasn’t the only one, I think we both were fools.”

“That’s right, but now we’re back together so let’s make the most of it. Now, tell me, what has been going on in your life?”

The rest of the afternoon was spent with the friends you hadn’t seen in a while. Everything felt right into place, the old jokes and the new ones, the adventures and the struggles, everything was so familiar that you felt at ease knowing in the midst of separation and internal struggles whenever you had a real friend distance and time didn’t matter at all. They would always be there for you, the same way you would be for them.

Scott, Cassie and America went straight to the basement, Scott carrying America while the older woman blushed unable to struggle for far too long due to the pain on her back. Everyone knew it was that time of the night in which you and Hope would need to have that long await conversation. You served more wine grabbing your glass and Hope’s carrying it with you towards the living room.

“So, how’s work?” You asked settling comfortably on the sofa.

“Same old, same old, it has been good and quite interesting.” Hope offered a cryptic smile, and your heart dropped at what could be hidden there.

“Interesting… How?”

“You know I can’t talk about my patients, right?” Hope asked lightly resting her cheek against the palm of her hand.

“I know.” You hesitated before speaking again. “That’s why I haven’t asked you about her.”

Hope clicked her tongue, her eyes piercing right through yours.

“What’s going on with Wanda, Y/N? As far as I know you were with Carol and now…” hope could certainly not tell you anything at all of the appointment she had that day with Wanda, she could not talk about the other woman’s feelings for you, but she could talk about yours.

You played with the glass in your hand, your eyes watching the red liquid danced around with your heart pounding blood into your ears. You could pretend before America, it was easier to make sur ethe young woman would not be worried about you or your emotions, but Hope had always been there. She had always known. Even if, at some point, she had been gone.

“I think I’m…god, I don’t know.” You mumbled passing your hand through your hair. “Carol was amazing, you know? But I couldn’t feel the way I’m feeling right now for Wanda.”

Hope pressed her lips together, waiting for you to continue.

“I don’t know when it happened, you know? I just though she was beautiful and then, I though she was funny, interesting, smart and I just…” You closed your eyes, opening them again to glance at the screen of your mobile. “I get to meet her even more and all of a sudden I’m just experimenting all these emotions for her, and I know it’s not possible because she…”

“She what, Y/N?” Hope asked when your silence went for far too long, you rolled your eyes taking a long sip from the wine.

“I’m not one of your patients, Hope.”

“No, you are my friend.” Hope stated. “I don’t want you to get hurt, but I also don’t want Wanda to get hurt in the process.”

This last part perked up your curiosity but Hope offered a half smile shaking her head.

“I wouldn’t be able to hurt her, Hope.” You mumbled looking away miserable as ever. “God, why do I always fall for the complicated it ones? What couldn’t I fall for Carol? It would have been perfect!”

Hope raised her brows at the sudden declaration, though she was pretty sure you didn’t even notice your own confession. Two confessions in one single day, that must be a record for Hope who was watching everything developed from afar; she wished things were easier for you and even for Wanda, but she also knew she could not force things to happen, she would need to be patient or else everything could end up in a heart break.

“I think you need to give yourself time, Y/N and you should also be honest with yourself, and her.”

You snorted shaking your head, “look, you must know this already but, she has a husband, she has two kids, it’s a matter of time she may go back to him or perhaps find another man that…I mean, she is straight as an arrow and I’m just always reding the signals incorrectly, I know I have to keep my distance so this is what I’m going to do.”

Hope was really grateful to the fact you were too busy feeling sorry for yourself to notice the hint of panic in her eyes when you mentioned Wanda’s husband. You didn’t know much, for the comment you just made, and Hope was not the right person to provide you with that story. But what stroke Hope the most was the fact you felt miserable at the mere thought that Wanda might found her heart’s love in a man. Which confirmed your assessment of a moment ago: you didn’t know how to read the signs.

“I just don’t know, I should focus on the business and America.” You emptied the glass of wine shaking it in front of Hope’s eyes. “Want some more?”

“No, thank you.” Hope smiled leaning forward and placing a hand on yours, you lifted your stared and waited patiently for Hope to talk.

“Let me give you some advice.”

“Please.” You mumbled, and Hope could see you were just as confused and terrified as Wanda.

“You need to decide what you want, what you really desire. Once you had defined this you should give yourself and others a chance to get there with you.” Hope offered a kind smile as she continued. “I cannot tell you about Wanda, Y/N, but I can tell you really feel so much that you’re still afraid to get hurt. Allow yourself to take a leap of faith and find out what can be possible.”

“What if…” You started trailing off when Hope rolled her eyes.

“Then, you took a risk and whatever the end result you came out of that moment wiser, and with the certainty that you did everything that needed to be done for you to be happy.” Hope then wrapped her arms around you. “You and Wanda deserve that much, at least, and even if it doesn’t end the way you want it, you and her would had gained a friendship that may help you face the hardships of life, so it’s a win-win situation.”

You had a lot to think about by the time you went to bed.

You glanced out of the window to see Wanda’s home had the lights off, she was probably sleeping already with the twins in their room. You grabbed your phone reading the last message she had left in the chat; it had been a simple question about the final arrangements that ended up with her inviting you and America over for lunch the next day.

As the night grew older, you kept your stare to the darkened sky right above your head. The next day would be a new day, and you had made up your mind. Tomorrow would be a new day, and hopefully, it would be the beginning of a new chapter in your life.

************************************************************************Next Chater: The tension between Wanda and Reader grows, the twins play matchmakers, Kate and America shared a kiss, the dance is almost there and someone that shouldn't be there gets a sight of the twins.

#personal #fanfic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxreader #female reader #imagine wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #reader

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the-kr8tor · 6 months

Text

Speed Drive

🎉500 celebration fic🎉

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 6.2k

Synopsis: You come along with Hobie on a road trip to Glasgow. Aka the fic where I squeezed in multiple dream dates of mine lol

Tags: Use of Y/N sparingly, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mention, reader is a history nerd (definitely not projecting), the reader can't drive, sunshine! Reader. Suggestive content, lovestruck Hobie, Established relationship. FLUFF.

A/n: I did some research on the places they went to, if there are any inaccuracies on the geography/ information, please note that I've never been to any of these places, I'm only basing my knowledge on what I've researched and what I've studied in uni.

* I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms and copy and pasted on any ai software*

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You grunt as you lift the heavy amp, back straightened so you don't accidentally sprain yourself. Waddling towards Hobie's van, amp sitting heavily near your waist. The sun is just about rising on the horizon, painting the pavement deep blue. The water laps at the house boat's side, the sound familiar, adding to the relaxed atmosphere where you and Hobie are the only ones awake in the entire city. The early morning air nips at your skin, leaving goosebumps on the back of your neck.

Suddenly, strong familiar arms wrap around the amp. "What are you doin'? Told you I've got them" Hobie clicks his tongue, taking the amp from you.

He's annoyed but not at you, he's irritated that he got the short end of the stick, ending up waking up early (too early) to load the instruments. You don't take it to heart, knowing his annoyance isn't because of you. It would've been better if he just helped his band mates load them in, but lady luck wasn't on his side. Unfortunately he also got driving duties, now he has to drive seven hours to get to Glasgow for the band's very first big gig. Leaving the rest of the band to take (a very comfortable) train ride at a later hour. Hobie's a bit jealous on that end, he would've liked for you to see the sights on a train instead of sitting on his old van that creaks when he steers a little too far to the left.

The only silver lining about the impromptu road trip is you. Seven hours on the road with just you is pure bliss, if only he didn't have to wake up in this ungodly hour, he would've been in a better mood.

"Sorry, you were busy loading in the drums. Thought I would help" you look up at him through equally tired eyes. A cloud of breath escaping when you talk. Hobie zips your jacket further up, keeping you warm.

He heaves the amp on one arm, effortlessly carrying it. "Don't be, you're just trying to help." Hobie feels guilty for clicking his tongue at you. He holds your cold hand, sharing his warmth.

"You're definitely not a morning person" you squeeze his hand. "grumpy" bringing his hand to your lips, you leave a chaste kiss over his knuckles. "Is that the last one?"

"Think so," he looks around the area, finding nothing else to load inside the van. "Don't forget to bring in the thermos, you're turning into an icicle"

"Okay, I made us sandwiches" you smile at him, swinging your intertwined hands.

"What kind?" He stomps down his grumpy demeanor at the sound of breakfast.

"Lots!" You grin excitedly at him, Hobie wonders where you got your sudden burst of energy.

"Fuckin' hell, no wonder why you were up so late. You made every conceivable sandwich in the world" he jokes, your happy energy spreading to him.

You chuckle, "not every single one. You have the first pick for waking up so early"

"Yeah? Even though you threatened to splash me with water?" He raises a pierced brow, a smile curling on his lips.

You wince, "yeah, sorry. It finally got you to wake up though!"

"Yeah, yeah, and here I thought you would wake me up with a kiss"

"I did! Like five fucking times. You wouldn't even stir, I got desperate, okay!" You laugh, it echoes around the silent neighborhood.

"I believe you, can you get our bags from inside? I'll warm up the van" Hobie reluctantly lets go of your hand. You feel cold already.

"Get it nice and toasty for me?"

"What are you? Banana bread?"

"Funny" you point at him playfully, walking backwards.

"Don't forget the bloody Thermos!" He yells after you, following you with his gaze, making sure you don't trip because you decided to walk backwards.

You wink at him, "okay, dad!"

"Lil shit" he says with a smile.

—

Munching on your sandwich, Hobie cranked up the heating, you're now warm and toasty in your seat. The leather squeaks when you move to feed Hobie a bite of your sandwich. He *insists that he prefers yours even though you made an identical one. Hobie's free hand is glued to your thigh, squeezing it from time to time, making sure you don't fall asleep on him.

Hobie keeps his eyes on the road, trying to take a bite of the sandwich that you've teasingly moved a few inches away from his waiting mouth.

He bites at air, "Oi, what the fuck" you snicker, biting your lip. Hobie immediately figures out what you're doing, "don't make me swerve this fucking car into that ditch"

"Jeez, okay!" You laugh, leaning closer (as much as the seat belt would allow you to) Hobie takes a generous bite, "you're still grumpy? Do you need more coffee?" You rub at the corner of his mouth with your thumb, cleaning the bread crumbs. He hums appreciatively.

"I don't think that coffee's workin' too well" he says while chewing. "We're not even out of the city yet" Hobie huffs.

"Do you want me to drive for a bit?" You wait for his reaction with a tiny smirk.

"You haven't got a license," He says matter-of-fact, "you don't even know how to drive" he doesn't sound condescending or making fun of you, his voice laced with endearment. He makes a mental note to teach you once you two get back home. His fingers pinches you through your pants.

"I'm a fast learner" you joke, Hobie cracks a sleep deprived smile, oh he's definitely not a morning person. "Give it time, you basically drank the entire thermos. Maybe some music could help?"

"If it's your music, I'm gonna fall asleep on the wheel" He squeezes your thigh, just in case you didn't get his joke.

"If it's your music, It's going to burst my eardrums this early in the morning" you quip back.

"Nice. Sandwich me, love" he opens his mouth, darting his eyes from the road to you before his gaze goes back to watching the road.

You lean again, holding up the almost finished sandwich. "Do you know who invented the sandwich?" Hobie eats the entire thing in one bite, almost taking your fingers off. You glare playfully at him.

He chuckles, mouth full. "No, who?"

"Lord Sandwich, the fourth earl of Sandwich in the eighteenth century"

"You're fucking with me" Hobie takes a left turn, the van creaks, instruments in the back sliding a bit. You watch his hand turn the steering wheel, mesmerized by how his large hand grips the wheel. His rings don't help, you tilt your head, watching intently.

He pinches your thigh, getting your attention. "Hey, where'd you go?"

"Sorry, I was trying to recall the rest of the fact" you blink back to reality.

"Will you be like this the entire trip? Watching my bloody hands, you perv" He read you like an open book.

"What– I wasn't, okay! I was–" you fumble with your words.

He has a playful smirk on his lips. "You were what? Fantasizing my hands wrapped around your–"

"Stop!" You hold his hand that's on your thigh, so he could stop his teasing.

"What? I was gonna say 'wrapped around your hand', honestly what did you think I was gonna say?" He asks you playfully, shoving your shoulder lightly.

"it's too early for this shit" you mumble with a playful pout, intertwining your fingers with his.

He laughs, eyes crinkling into a smile. Hobie brings your hand to his lips, placing a quick peck on your warm hand. "Ah, too early for it? Maybe later then?"

You groan but your smile and the twinkle in your eyes says otherwise.

"What were you talking about? 'Bout the sandwich bloke?"

"John Montagu, he invented the sandwich because he didn't have time to eat a proper meal while he was playing cards and working."

"Bloody rich lord" he grumbles with malice.

"Hey, if not for him you wouldn't be eating one of my Sandwiches"

"I love eating your sandwich" he raises a teasing brow, proud of his innuendo.

"What is up with you this morning?" You laugh, playing with one of his rings, twirling the metal around his index finger. "Seriously, did I accidentally make you coffee with something in it? Is that why it says 'special' in the packaging?"

Hobie laughs loudly, echoing around the van. "You think they'd put an aphrodisiac in coffee?" He lets go of your hand for a bit while he steers the wheel with both hands. "Like ginkgo biloba or somethin'?"

You reach for his free hand immediately after he lets go of the wheel to lay it back on your thigh. "No like pistachio nuts or–" you try to think of another example, "— crab" you giggle when the word escapes your lips.

"Crab?!" He rides with your bit. "Must be some expensive bloody coffee, lovey" Hobie rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. "No wonder I tasted something fishy in that coffee"

You gasp, feigning offense. "You did not!" contributing to the bit.

"Now who's crabby this morning, huh?" He chuckles.

You roll your eyes at his pun, "argh, can't believe I have to endure seven more hours of this" teasing him, your sentence has no ounce of truth in it whatsoever. More than happy to accompany him on the trip.

"It'll be the best seven hours of your life, sweets" He looks at you through the rearview mirror with a smirk.

You can read him like a book too. Narrowing your eyes, you can just tell he has something planned, but you can't quite put your finger on it.

"You've got something up your sleeves? Spill it, Hobart"

He sideways glances at you, hiding his knowing smile. "Don't know what you're on about" Hobie clears his throat, playing it cool.

"Nope, I know you, babe. That fucking smirk of yours, I know it!" You lightly poke at his cheek.

"Lovey, I haven't got a scooby doo. I'm just here drivin' trying to get us to Glasgow"

"You get very detailed when you're lying. I know your tells!"

"That so?" He makes a mental note of what you've said, which might be handy the next time he has a surprise. Hobie opens the radio, cd already inside, it plays a loud tune, drowning out your questions.

"Hey!" You yell through the loud music. Hobie almost gives himself away with a laugh, he bites his lip to stifle it. "Whatever– wherever you're planning to stop at some backroad tourist attraction, we better not be too late for the show!"

Hobie cranks the volume up, "What? Can't hear you through the music" he gestures towards his ear.

You press the 'volume down' button, covering your ears. Now you're definitely both wide awake. "You're an ass, you can't have any more of my sandwiches" huffing, you grab a ziplock of sandwich just to tease him more.

Banter fills the van, laughs and flirty words entertain you until sleep comes back to haunt you. Unexpectedly falling asleep, Hobie lets you snooze away in his passenger seat. Avoiding potholes, slowing down when passing a speed bump. He even uses his arm to act as your second seat belt whenever he turns sharply, hand cradling your head so you don't fall off the headrest.

Hobie has the urge to wake you though, but he needs you at full energy for what he's planning on taking you. Eyes drifting to the van's console, he gazes at your camera, taking a mental note to remember to give you the extra roll of films he bought for you.

—

Hobie shuts off the engine, eyes bleary, he clicks the seatbelt off of him. He has the urge to close his eyes and join you in slumberland. One look at your sleeping face almost pushes him off the edge.

He leans closer to you, hand cupping your jaw, he taps your face with his thumb. "Love" you don't stir, eyes still closed. Hobie's so attuned to you that he knows you're not faking it.

He kisses you chastely, warm lips puckering to wake you up. Hobie calls your name this time, poking your cheek. You still sleep, lips slightly parted. He's absolutely jealous of you right now. Peppering your face with kisses, he fully intends to wake you up. Defeated, you still lay asleep.

A bright idea pops up in his mind. Pulling away, Hobie grips the steering wheel with both hands, arms length away from him. He screams bloody murder like he's about to hit a wall.

You jump away, yelling for a second before seeing the parking lot bare, van parked safely. You clutch your chest, eyes now wide awake. Slapping his arm, you glare at him. Hobie has a shit-eating grin on his face, arm raised to shield himself. His laugh echoes.

"You fucker!" Slap "I could've" slap "gotten a heart attack!" You huff with a pout.

"I'm sorry, c'mere" he tries to hug you, standing your ground, you cross your arms on your chest. "You wouldn't wake up! I'm sorry, please?" Hobie flexes his fingers, face apologetic.

"Are we here? Did I sleep the entire time?"

"No, lovey. We're at a stopover" he points outside with his head. "'m really sorry. If there's any consolation I think you'll like this place"

Your eyes zero in on the sign, reading it loudly, "Stratford Upon-Avon?!" Screeching excitedly. You click off your seat belt with urgency, with the intention of leaving Hobie hanging as revenge. You'll kiss him thank you later anyway.

Opening the door, you step off, stretching your legs and breathing in fresh air. Warmer air greets you, a much kinder one from a few hours ago. Trainers bouncing off in excitement. Greenery and old timey Houses fill your vision, adding to your eagerness.

Hobie joins your side, your sling bag over his broad shoulder. Hiding his disappointment from your lack of hug, he only blames himself for scaring the crap out of you.

"Y/n." The lack of the term of endearment alerts you, whirling around, you see his shoulders slumped, face clearly hiding his true feelings behind a straight face. You know he'll feel worse if you don't try to reassure him. So you do, hand signaling him to hold yours.

He blames the early morning for making him all lovesick, if it was the later hours, Hobie would've stuck to teasing you about your reaction. With a sigh and a weak roll of his eyes, he steps in your arms instead of just holding your hand, head resting on your shoulder, yawning as you knead his aching back; you indulge him.

Good thing it's still too early for tourists to flock the area, save for a few scattered ones looking for a place to have breakfast at.

"Apology accepted," leaning back, you straighten the knots on his forehead. "You need better coffee" you scrunch your nose at his closed eyes.

"Or sleep" he grumbles.

"Do you want to sleep for a bit inside the van?" You feel bad for sleeping the entire time. "I'll stay with you don't worry. I won't fall asleep this time."

He shakes his head, slapping his own face to wake himself up. Jumping up and down with you still in his arms. You don't question it, jumping along with him. Metal accessories clinking together, boots thumping hard on the pavement.

Spluttering, he shakes his head vigorously. You giggle at his face.

"Alright, 'm good. Let's go get coffee"

—

You lead a very sleep deprived Hobie by the sleeve of his hoodie, too warm for his leather one yet too cold for just a t-shirt. He lets you drag him along, not because he's disinterested, sleepiness just got the best of him.

Gasping, you point at a unique streetlight. Little statues of a donkey and a man sitting on the metal sides, a curious owl placed on top, looking down on the street.

"Look at that donkey with a guitar!"

Hobie squints through the haziness, "think that's a lute. Kinda looks like you." He still finds the time to tease you even with heavy eyes. A smirk playing on his lips, watching you closely.

"You're the owl then" you let go of his sleeve, taking the camera from your bag, positioning and angling it for the best lighting. He watches your face full of concentration with a faint endearing smile.

Click.

"Got it" you smile, spotting a stand full of maps and information about the place. "Oohh" skipping over the display, you take one. "Hobie, look! Babe?" You look up from the pamphlet when Hobie doesn't reply back.

He walks towards you at a snail's pace. Grunting back in acknowledgement.

You wince, practically feeling his tiredness ooze out of him. "Let's get that coffee. There's a café near here."

"Overpriced coffee" he could only mumble out a protest. While you guide him towards the shop for some much needed refuel. It's not like he has any other choices, all the coffee shops near the area are unnecessarily expensive, save for gas station coffee– which is too far to get to right now, he might fall asleep while driving to it.

Hobie can't let himself drive through the fog of sleep, especially that you're with him. So he surrenders with the promise of getting his pep back so he can drive you safely to the next destination.

—

After gulping down two cups of coffee that made Hobie seethe after hearing the price, he leaves you on the table to go to the loo, your eyes glued on the leaflet, absorbing every word and information on it.

Hobie makes his way back, now wide awake, he watches you put too much milk on your cup, too distracted with reading– it overflows, spilling the hot liquid on the table. He has never loved you more when you jump in your seat, quietly yelping, clumsily wiping at the table with a napkin. He shakes his head with a fond smile and soft eyes.

Hobie asks for more napkins from the cashier, promptly heading towards your table. He helps you wordlessly, wiping, avoiding spilling any more expensive tea.

"Sorry" you expect Hobie to chastise you for spilling your drink, instead, he looks at you with concern and fondness.

"You alright? Didn't spill any on you?"

You smile softly, thankful eyes staring back at him. "I'm okay, it's not that hot anyway"

"Sure?" He takes his tea stained finger on the tip of your nose, leaving a wet patch over it. Green tea wafts your nostrils. "There's some on you"

"Ack!" Wiping it with a clean tissue, you roll your eyes; faint smile telling him otherwise.

"That's how it is then?" He chuckles, satisfied with your reaction. He sits down next to you, drying his hands on a napkin. Arm instinctively flying around your shoulder, holding you close. "Where to go next?"

"Hmm?" You hum, drinking what's left of your tea, "I thought you had it planned?"

"I planned on stopping here, thought you got the next part since you've always wanted to go here, y'know planned the entire trip in your head before"

For a second he thinks that you're disappointed in him for not planning ahead. The thought stops the second you beam at him, hands on his shoulder to anchor yourself on him. lips puckering to kiss him on the cheek quickly since you're in public. Hobie doesn't protest, leaning towards the kiss, angling his face so that your lips just about graze the corner of his lip. You know exactly what he's doing, you let him, moving slyly closer to his lips.

"Oh, you know me so well!" You say excitedly, pulling away, shaking his shoulder for emphasis. "First stop! The river Avon!"

—

"The ferry's closed" you come back to his side with a frown. Gusts of cool air rushes past, rustling your jacket, the leaves on the trees whisper and rustle in the wind, big fluffy clouds providing shade. The river laps at the dock, adding to your downturned lips. "The employee also said Shakespeare's house and the other houses are closed since it's too early"

"We'll just have to come back on our way home then" your frown turns back into a smile, poking his sides teasingly.

"You'll take me back here?" You say with a smirk, playful eyes smile back at him, finger poking his waist. "Ohhh, you're so smitten"

He takes your poking finger with a roll of his eyes, hiding the growing smile on his lips with a scoff. "Yeah, yeah. Where to now, tour guide?"

"The butterfly farm is open early. Is that okay?"

"Why not?"

"We have to walk there, it's a bit of a trek" you shrug, "it's okay if we don't have time for it"

He calculates in his head, if you only stay an hour more, you two can be right back on schedule; just on time to get to Glasgow without being late for the show.

"We've got time to spare"

"You sure? I don't want us to be late" toe to toe with Hobie, finger still encased in his hand, you ask him anyway even though you know what his answer will be.

"Yes, let's go before people flock this place"

Hand in hand, you take in the sights, stopping from time to time to shoot pictures of the historical houses and buildings. Hobie becomes your model, posing like a natural in front of the lens. He wrangles the camera from you to take your picture right in front of Shakespeare's home and school. Shyness slowly edging away for a while as Hobie hypes you up. Instructing you to pose here and there.

You ran out of film before reaching the butterfly garden, stopping right in front of the royal Shakespeare theatre. The red bricks and dome like structure looms overhead.

"Aww, I think we used it all"

"'ve got more" he takes an extra roll of film from his pocket. You stare at him like he just did magic right in front of your eyes.

"Where'd you get this?" You say, bewildered.

"Brought it with me" he says nonchalantly like he didn't do the sweetest thing just for you.

"Have I told you lately that you're really amazing?" You load film inside the camera, quickly snapping a picture of his smug face.

"No, maybe you should say it often"

So enamored, chest filled with love, you agree. "Mm-hmm, maybe I should. Now, can you stand right there while I take a picture of your amazing face"

—

You finally make it to the butterfly garden. An arch with a large colourful butterfly display greets you. Inside is a beautiful glass greenhouse with a dome ceiling, it shines brightly in the early morning sun, adding to your excitement.

Once paid for the tickets, you and Hobie head inside, you're practically jumping off the glass walls. Hobie's hand leads you inside, preventing you from sliding on the gravel and breaking your ankle on the rough ground.

You're in complete awe of the place, it looked beautiful outside but nothing compares to it once inside. The sun glows brilliantly, bouncing its rays on the glass ceiling and walls. Flora and greenery as far as your eyes could see, strategically placed around the massive greenhouse. The flowery and sweet smells entranced you to explore the entire place, not to mention the colorful butterflies in all shapes and sizes fluttering all around you. Birds make their morning sing-song adding to the fantastical atmosphere.

The look on your face makes waking up a few hours earlier than scheduled makes it all worth it for Hobie. He softly smiles at you, hands clasped comfortably over yours. Eyes sparkling, mirroring yours, he guides you further inside. You let him, neck craned up, watching as butterflies swirl overhead.

Gravel crunches under your footsteps, Hobie stops walking. You almost bumped into him, he tugs at your hand, pointing down on the shrubbery.

"What is that?" You squint, jumping when something green slithers further away from you two and into the thick greenery. "Woah!"

He chuckles at your reaction. You fumble for your camera to capture a photo of the iguana lounging in the warmth, scales as green as the leaves around it.

Click.

"Look, it's you!" You point at its sharp spikes, looking at Hobie with a teasing smile.

"Careful, he bites" he taunts back, making you retract your finger back.

Strolling around more, you take so many pictures, the film Hobie gave you is almost full. You've even snuck in candid pictures of Hobie, and by god, he looked great in all of them. While all your pictures looked like you were at a field trip with your parents, posing with a goofy smile on your face as a butterfly lands on your shoulder.

It's been almost an hour of exploring, so you hold his hand again to tug him towards the exit with a promise of going back, without a time constraint next time.

Crisp air greets you two, hand in hand, you walk by the river, watching as ducks and swans swim on the surface. Their quacking and honking gets louder and louder as they notice you, asking for food.

"Maybe we should've brought rice with us" You mumble, looking at the birds with an apologetic look as if they can understand you.

"Do you think if you fall in they'll eat you?" Hobie asks with a serious look on his face, a small smirk curling on his lips, the only indication that he's fully joking.

"I don't think they'll like me very much, I'm full of bread, which isn't nutritious for 'em" you playfully quipped back, squeezing his hand. He chuckles at your comment.

Hobie slyly moves you away from the river, just in case you actually fall in. He guides you to his right, so that he's the one nearest to the water instead of you. Hand holding your left one, you lean to his side, full of affection in your chest, you softly kiss his shoulder. Whispering softly a 'thank you'

—

You've been quiet for an hour, Hobie side eyes you from time to time. The sudden silence makes him concerned, moreso when your face has contorted into a grimace, eyebrows furrowed, you bite your lips with a sharp inhale.

He's worried since you've been extremely chatty an hour ago, voice filling the van, you help him stay awake. Well until he hit a speed bump that made you squeak out.

"You alright, lovey?" Hobie asks with a squeeze of your thigh.

You sit with a fluffy blanket over your lap, a neck pillow under your head. You look comfortable enough, so why do you look like you're in pain?

You exhale, looking at him through the corners of your eyes without moving your neck. "Mm-hmm"

"Mm-hmm? What's wrong? Is the seat not warm enough?" Hobie looks at you through the rearview mirror, seeing your knitted eyebrows.

You ball the blanket under your knuckles. "I'm okay"

He nods, unconvinced.

After a few moments of smooth driving on the highway, cars drive past, you squeeze your thighs together. Controlling your breathing, you try not to think of water.

"Love" he calls for you, "did you see that car with the flame decals on it?" Chuckling softly, he places his hand over your thigh again. Hobie feels the tight muscles under your pants, eyebrow raising in question.

"Y/n" he snickers under his breath. Hands kneading softly at your thigh. Hobie translates the squeezing of your thighs together and your elevated breathing, "I swear if you're hot and bothered, I can't park right here–"

"I need to pee" you say embarrassed, avoiding his eyes. Only finally admitting it so he doesn't actually think you're aroused for some reason.

Hobie laughs loudly, hand slapping the steering wheel. "I told you to go before we left"

"Hobie," you whine. "Not funny, I've been holding it for so long"

"Alright," he clams up, still smiling at your predicament. "There's no gas station near here, love. We're too far away to turn around but we're thirty minutes away from Manchester. We can stop there"

"Thirty?!" You're in agony, hands tucked in between your legs in an attempt to tamp down the need to go.

Hobie moves his hand from your thigh to the back of your neck, kneading softly. He presses the gas, if he hurries you can make it in twenty five without breaking any traffic laws. He makes a joke about you peeing in a bottle which you only glared in return.

Twenty minutes later, you're folded in half on your seat, head layed on your lap, trying to distract yourself by counting the threads in your blanket.

"Almost there, love. Hold on" Hobie pats your head in reassurance. You groan out a reply.

—

You jumped from your seat after a second of Hobie parking the car in front of a gas station. Hand tightening around your travel sized toilet paper.

Hobie patiently waits for you outside the door. Fingers fiddling with his web shooters tucked under his sleeve.

The door creaks open. His neck cranes up to meet your relieved face. "Success?"

"Remind me to not drink anything until we make it to Glasgow."

"You still need to drink some water y'know" he walks back to the car with your pinkies linked together.

"Are we still far?"

"A bit, let's stop by Liverpool to eat lunch" he opens the passenger door for you. You smile sweetly at the gesture.

"Thank you, sorry for being annoying" You hug his waist with one arm briefly just before you hop to your seat.

"Not annoying, tell me next time, yeah?"

"Okay" you lean down to press a kiss on his lips, savoring the moment. He hums into it, his hand right over your shoulder so that you don't fall off.

—

As the van passes through Manchester, you spot the canals, houseboats parked on the side, you get reminded of your shared home.

"Look! That one looks like ours, same color too"

"Missing home already?"

"Kind of. Wish we could stop here, they've got the oldest library in Britain" You lay your head over the window, watching as landmarks pass by in a blur.

"They also have a serial killer too"

You scoff, "in this day and age?" Looking at Hobie's face, you don't see any lie to his comment. Your face falls, "wait, you serious?"

He shrugs, side eyeing you. You have absolutely no idea if he's joking or not, Hobie's good at acting like that, especially if he's teasing you.

"Hobie, you're joking right?"

"Hmm?"

"Is there actually a killer on the loose here?" You instinctively check the door locks.

He doesn't respond, adding to your fear. You completely miss the mischievous look on his face though.

"I don't want to stop here anymore" you mumble.

"We could always take a detour right now–"

"Nope, no thank you" you answer lightning quick.

He hides his smile behind his hand. Maybe he'll tell you all about it on the return trip.

—

An hour later you're sitting down outside a local restaurant in Chinatown, waiting for your food to arrive. The air blows softly, fluttering your lashes. You close your eyes, head resting on your hand, elbow over the table. You can see the faint outline of the Liverpool cathedral underneath the fog. It's gotten a few degrees colder since you've arrived, the streets shine from the earlier rain, petrichor wafts your senses.

Two bowls of warm noodles are placed in front of you. Side dishes, dimsum and xiaolongbao makes your stomach rumble at the sight and savory smell.

"Thank you," you smile at the waiter.

Wondering where Hobie went, lo and behold, he emerges, walking towards you with a paper cup of convenience store coffee. "Food is here, you still need coffee?"

He sits down across from you. "Yeah, needed another boost" Hobie scrunches his nose before standing up again, moving his chair right next to you, avoiding it from scraping the concrete. He sits back down, arm thrown over the back of your chair.

You look at him with a fond smile, heart eyes staring back at Hobie.

"What?" He challenges you with a raised eyebrow and faint smirk.

"Nothin'" you shove him lightly with your shoulder.

"Hm" he hums, you translate it to an 'obviously'

You eat with content, letting him steal some of your broth from your bowl, in exchange, he gives you a dimsum from his share.

—

You do your best at reading the booklet about Liverpool that you've bought before leaving the city while the vehicle moves.

"The guy who designed the cathedral is the same person who designed the red telephone box"

Hobie listens intently with coffee coursing through his veins, stomach full of food, he's properly fueled to drive for more than four hours to Glasgow. His band mates better be there already when you two arrive or he'll wring their necks.

There won't be any more stops until you get to the destination since there'll only be the highway to drive on. It stretches far, cars whirring past. With Sprawling green hills, and mountains curved around the highway makes the drive much more serene. Powerlines on the sides ground you, making it all seem familiar. The weather is foggy, blanketing the England to Scotland border.

The van rattles as Hobie swerves the car to the right. He plants his hand back in your knee, palm circling the curve of it affectionately.

"Ohh, they've got a beach" you stare at the picture of the nature reserve with its sandy windswept dunes, and grassy knolls.

"Add that to the list"

"Okay" you take out a pen from the glovebox, biting the cap off with your teeth, you scribble it on the back of the booklet where there's an empty space. Using your thighs as a table, you add the destination on your little list right under 'old thatch tavern'

"There," you hum happily.

"Is there anything on there 'bout Glasgow?" He kneads your knee with his knuckle.

"A tiny bit" you flip to the back, "they've got a mural trail, we might pass through it on the way. Ooh they also have a glasshouse."

You two pass the time by giving him facts about the places you've passed. Hobie listens in, adding his own knowledge to the mix. An hour later, you're both jamming to his music cassette. You try to make him laugh by banging your head to the song. Whipping your head too hard, you end up banging it on the dashboard.

With wide eyes and laughter threatening to spill out, Hobie comforts you with his palm over your forehead.

You two chat about with you feeding him crisps in between, exchanging stories and playing 'I spy' Hobie ends up winning with his enhanced vision, you challenge him again with a huff. He still wins the second and third round. His prize? Hobie tells you he's gonna hold onto it until you reach Glasgow.

At hour three, the car makes a metal groaning sound in the middle of the highway, you and Hobie looked at each other in fear for a second, silent and waiting for the van to keel over. You both sigh in relief after a few good minutes of silence with the car still running smoothly. Good thing it did because you have no idea how you'll make it to Glasgow if it did decide to just die in the middle of the road.

Before you know it, Hobie parks the van near the venue. Clicking off his seatbelt while you stretch in your seat. Hobie leans towards you, elbow right over the center console, he helps you with your seatbelt before promptly moving his hand to your cheek to face him.

"Can I help you?" You giggle, pecking the tip of his nose. "Are you claiming your prize?"

"This isn't my prize, lovey." He softly says against your lips. "That'll wait for later"

"Okay," you feel like your cheeks are on fire.

"This is my thanks" He meets your waiting lips, moving with yours. Cupping his jaw, thumb rubbing his cheeks, you breathe through your nose so the kiss would last longer yet it still leaves you breathless. You feel his hand around your nape, deepening the kiss further.

Hobie pulls away, seeing your pupils completely dilated, chest heaving for air.

"Thanks for what?" You ask breathlessly.

"Comin' with me" with his finger, he wipes the sheen off your lips, it stays there for a second, savoring, longing. For everything.

"You could've asked me to go anywhere and I still would've gone. As long as it's with you."

He answers with another kiss, laced with so much love and thankfulness, you feel it all through it.

A sudden knock has you pulling away, Hobie clicks his tongue at the intrusion. Turning around, he spots his bandmates whistling and wiggling their eyebrows. One was making a gesture that made you hide your face.

"You fuckin' wankers!" Hobie opens the door, slamming it on his friends' faces, they scatter, hooting and hollering, taunting him.

You watch as Hobie play fights with them, arm choking his bass player. With a lopsided smile on your face, excitement bubbles in your chest, the return trip and his promise makes you excited more than anything.

A/N: this fic is long overdue that we're at 700 already! Thank you all so much for reading and interacting with my little stories! Love all 700 of you ❤️

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months

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Carpe Noctem 20

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, violence, blood, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You don’t know where to go. You know you can’t go back to Lloyd’s. Not yet. You don’t want to talk about what happened. Maybe he won’t even ask or care but it would be obvious if you got back so soon.

So you drive around, listless, until you find a place to park and hide behind your steering wheel. You stay there for a while, just across the street from a hardware store. You check your empty thermos and sigh. Coffee. More coffee and you can think.

You get out and cross the street. You head up down the next block to the cafe nestled between a pawn shop and pharmacy. You get a medium roast and add a healthy dollop of cream. You sit down at a table and try to piece together your life.

You’ve lost Johnny, your apartment, and pretty much your job. What else do you have left? What are you going to tell Lloyd? He’ll be expecting some sort of rent and you’ll be lucky to get that much on your next pay.

You glance over at the counter as a puff of steam hisses from one of the machines. You bite down on the inside of your lip and leave your cup at the table. It’s not really a downgrade, but you’ll miss the kids.

“Hey, excuse me, sorry,” you speak over the lower part of the counter where you can see the baristas at work, “I was wondering if you were accepting applications.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, there’s some part-time spots open,” the man calls back, “just Google us and it will come right up.”

“Uh, duh, I should’ve thought of that,” you laugh at yourself awkwardly, “anyways, thanks.”

“Boss is here, I can see if he’s free… he does all the interviewing.”

“I, um, I’d hate to be a bother–”

“Honestly, you wouldn’t,” he brings a mocha to the counter and signals to you as he calls out a name, handing over the drink to another customer. He turns back to you, his name tag reads Peter. “We need all the help we can get.”

“Right, er, okay, I guess… I guess if he’s free.”

“Sick, I’ll go run and get him,” he spins and waves at his coworker, “Ned, I’ll be right back.”

The other employee only rolls his eyes as he takes an order at the till. You hover there, waiting, wringing your hands nervously. Peter clamours back, out of breath, cheeks rosy.

“He’s coming,” he grins broadly, “I’m Peter.”

“I know,” you nod to his name tag.

“Oh, yeah,” he looks down goofily, “you?”

You give your name and shift your weight on your feet. He grabs another receipt and an empty cup.

“You can sit down, he’ll find you.”

“Okay, thanks again,” you show your teeth sheepishly then drag your feet back to your table.

You lower yourself into the seat and stare into the cup. It’ll be something until you can get better. Or go back to the daycare. You hate to think you won’t ever see the kids again.

“Uh, hey,” a man approaches, thumbs hooked in his jean pockets, “you the one?”

You look up, slightly startled as your worries split down the seams. You open and close your mouth as you peer up at his bright blue eyes. He seems familiar.

“Y-yeah, looking for a job,” you brace the table and go to stand. He stops you as he raises his palm and sits across from you. He turns his hand and offers it to you, “Cole.”

You once more say your name as you shake his hand. He clings a little bit longer than you expect but lets you go and rests his forearm across the table. He smiles and you stare back, waiting for him to say something.

“So…” his eyes widen as he remembers why he’s there, “you make coffee before?”

“Well, sort of. I can use a french press and I used to have a nespresso…” you let your voice trails off; before Johnny broke it. “But I can learn and I have loads of customer service experience.”

“I can tell,” he taps his fingers on the table, “you have a kind face. Does that sound weird?”

“Um, no, thanks, I think,” you keep your smile in place. He’s a bit strange but not unpleasant.

“I just bought this place, you know? Lots of changes so I wanna revamp it. Get some new faces in.”

“That’s exciting. It’s very… quaint,” you glance around.

“Ah, don’t worry, I know it needs work. Actually, I think… I don’t wanna offend you but we could use a good eye around here. A woman’s touch. You think maybe you’d have some ideas for the redesign?”

“Well, I… I only worked in a daycare, so I don’t…”

“I like that,” he snaps his fingers and points at you, “alright, well, Peter can show you how to use the espresso machine and I’ll come get you to look at swatches when you’re not too busy.”

He stands, surprising you as you can only gape up at him.

“Is that it?”

“That’s it,” he looks at his watch, “gotta call ma. It’s about that time.”

He strides away, leaving you absolutely upended. That was somehow the most and least stressful interview you’ve ever had. You shake your head and hug your coffee with your hands.

“When you’re done that,” Peter calls over, “I’ll teach you how to grind beans.”

“Oh, great,” you nod and look out the window, hiding your uncertainty. It’s not forever, just for a while. Just like Lloyd. You’ll be back on your feet soon.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #series #carpe noctem #au #the club #the gray man

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carolmunson · 7 months

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you keep me without chains | em.

this is a re-post of a ramble fic of me processing some stuff i've been through and am struggling with in my own healing. if you're familiar with my 'bad at feelings' series, it's in a similar vein of writing except eddie is incredibly soft and sweet to reader who is going through her own stuff. eddie sucks here, i don't think it's a correct characterization of him but it's just me using him as a placeholder.

originally, i didn't want to put this story in the tags because it's sad and explores the mindset of someone in a non-physically abusive relationship. however, since it is DV awareness month, i wanted to make sure to express that if there are people reading this who are struggling that they aren't alone and there are people there that understand and support them. and also that if there are younger readers reading (still eighteen plus!) who aren't sure if they are in an abusive relationship they are maybe able to get some context via fiction. my inbox is always open. DV Hotline US: 800-799-7233 DV Hotline UK: 0808 2000 247 tw: 18+ mindors dni, references to emotional and psychological abuse, minor threats of physical violence.

he left this morning with a kiss on your cheek and your lips, a nuzzle against your temple when you gave him two thermos's, one with hot black coffee and the other with the beef stew you made last night. hot hot hot. the way he likes it.

you made bread, so crisp on the outside, pillowy soft on the inside. he groaned when he popped it in his mouth at the dinner table, soaked in broth and butter. you warmed some in the oven when you put his lunch together, wrapping it in foil to trap the heat -- maybe it'll keep until his lunch hour. he might eat it all before his lunch hour. he never eats breakfast really.

you clean the counters and do the laundry while he's away. no kids to take care of, not yet at least. you mend his spare coveralls, treating the grease and oils stains, resewing his name tag stiched in red thread. you shine your mary janes and stilettos, shine his doc's just to be nice. you fix his patches on his vest from the last show he went to. you clean the stubble out of the sink in the bathroom.

he has the car so there's nowhere to go.

you shower, you do your hair, put make up on, go through the motions while he's not home. he hates to wait for you to do it but you hate looking tired when you're out and about. better to do it when he's busy doing something else.

next door neighbor is heading to the library, knocks on your door to see if you wanna come with. she just wants you to get out of the house for once, stop playing wife to a man who hasn't married you yet.

you hesistate, wanting to be home in time to make dinner, but you can't imagine the library taking too long so you go. she looks at you with a strained pity that you can't stand. he doesn't hit you, so why does she even look at you like that? he'd never do that. he just got back from all that shit with a few screws loose. he never knows what he means when he says it.

he's always sorry. y'know? he's always sorry. sorta.

doesn't hit you but you know how the day will go by the way he says good morning. by the way he wakes up with you -- or without you. know how the night will go by the way he breathes when he comes in through the storm door. by the cadence of his steps on the metal stairs. by the way the van pulls in.

sometimes things break and that's fine cause he just replaces them. he knows he shouldn't have thrown it, he knows he shouldn't have tossed it, he knows. he knows. that's why he gets it the very next day. new plates, new house phone, new coffee pot, new records, new casettes, new picture frames, new flower pots. he doesn't throw them at you. he's only punched the wall twice. he slams his head against it all the time. cause he knows he's not good. he knows. you go to the library and check out some books, laugh at your neighbors jokes, tell her about your weekend in the city visiting his friends. he held your hand in front of everyone and pulled you onto his lap, he joked with you and you laughed the whole time. you went to see a band play that you'd never heard of and he got you a t-shirt and the next morning you all went out for hot chocolate and breakfast and he kissed the whipped cream off your lips and ran his thumb over your engagement ring over and over. he never stopped calling you baby. so charming. so perfect. you don't know what you did to earn it, but you've been chasing it ever since. modeling that week's behavior into this one. tip toes through the tulips of the trailer. jagged. shell like.

you get home from the library and lunch, she even stops with you when you mention you have to go to the grocery store. out of eggs for meatloaf, needed some canned string beans for one of the sides.

it's the best dinner you've made in a while and the mashed potatoes are double whipped and extra buttery because he can never get enough of them. you know that it's little things like that. you love the smile he gets when you tell him you do some things just for him, so blushy and boyish.

'that's so nice, baby,' he gushes, 'thinkin'a me.' and god he gushes. cries when he can't contain it. saw you in a new dress and wiped his eyes. new hair cut sent him into orbit.

so pretty.

you're so beautiful, i don't deserve you.

you're gorgeous i -- i can't even like, think.

presents on your birthday. handwritten notes with tear drops washing over the ink in a wave, blurry letters blue and black, black and blue. he'd never hit you. too in love. too bursting with affection when he looks at you. too nervous when you look at him when he takes you out. when he plays a show. when he sees you get dressed into your pjs at night. you're so good to me. especially when you hold him through those nightmares. when you calm his anxiety, those deep breath panic attacks. the ones that the meds miss when he misses them. you're patient through the mood swings and he always says thank you. he always says it -- you're the only one that understands him. that sees him. sometimes you don't get it. that's what he says at least. you don't get it and that makes him upset. but you're not sure what there is to get. and you try not to get sad about it -- 'bout anything really 'cause you're not the one who got a few screws knocked loose. nothing bad like that happened to you. i mean, sure, maybe some bad things happened to you but not like the way bad things happened to him, right? you wouldn't get it. but he gets you, he tells you all the time. he gets you so well. symbiotic. the only person who knows you, the only person whose been in your skin -- right? at least that's what he says, and he's said it so long you can't help but believe it.

your eyes fall on the newly vased roses he bought you two days ago from the florist near the shop. bright red petals opened and fat, contrasting against the pea green of the walls. you smile at them while you pour gravy over each plate, extra on his mashed potatoes. he kissed you this morning, he was almost late leaving the house -- couldn't stop kissing you. couldn't stop looking at you with those brown eyes, sparkling with a mischief saved for tonight.

the van rolls in as you set the table, still in your outfit from earlier, the books you checked out on the counter need the flowers. the storm door opens off kilter, your throat constricts. you know by the way he doesn't say anything when he comes in the house. work boots kicked off with loud thumps. his jacket swishing with a thwap when he throws it with a grunt to the ground. something bad must've happened at work. 'hey honey,' you say quietly, 'got dinner for you.'

you know better, watching him turn the corner into the dinette, looking down at you from where he stands and you sit. you hold a mug full of orange juice on the table, fingers tapping on it silently while he holds his gaze. 'you goin' somewhere, dressed up like that?' he asks, there's nothing behind those sparkling eyes now. dulled out to hollow brown.

'no,' you shrug, you know how to coreograph your responses now -- still stepping on his toes sometimes, 'went to the library with gina, she just wanted a friend for some errands.'

'you know gina doesn't like me,' he nods, walking to the fridge to grab a beer, 'she doesn't like us together. she hates me.'

'she doesn't hate you, ed,' you assure, voice still calm, mediating, 'no one hates you.'

'your folks hate me, your sister hates me,' he nods, curls bouncing while he takes a swig, like it's normal conversation. so steady, 'you think they like that i got you ever here in this trailer park?'

'my parents don't ha--'

'they do.' and that's final. you don't argue. and he's right. your parents don't like him and that's why you don't call anymore, and they stopped calling you too. so did all your friends from back home.

'so what'd gina tell you about me today, then?' he presses.

'nothin'," you shrug, 'we didn't talk about you.'

'of course not,' he laughs but it's one that sends a chill under your skin, a laugh to not seem so mean when you know he's about to be, 'she was prob'ly tryna set you up with someone. that's why you got all dressed up right? anything to look good for other guys out there.'

's'cuse me?' 'you heard me,' he nods, voice still steady like nothing's wrong, 'that's why you wore all those tight jeans in the city last weekend, right? those dresses? tryna show off to harrington and the guys. don't act like i didn't notice.'

'what are you talking about? why didn't you say anything when we were there?' you heart rate quickens, you try not to get mad.

'i shouldn't have to. but that's how you are, y'know?' he shrugs, another swig, another chuckle, 'makin' dinner and everything, you must've been out there makin' eyes at everyone if you made my favorite.'

'i wasn't doing that,' you urge, voice raising, tears threatening to pool, 'i just made it cause you like it, cause it makes you happy.'

'so you just do anything to make sure i don't get mad? do you even know why you do stuff like this for me?' he asks.

'what are you even saying?' your voice raises again, a mild yell. you're frazzled now, heart racing, head already scrambled.

'don't yell, what're you -- fuck babe, see! this is why gina doesn't like me,' he grits through his teeth, 'cause you're always making a scene over nothing. you're over fuckin' reacting.'

'i --' your voice catches in your throat, quieting, 'i'm sorry? i'm sorry.'

'd'you even know what you're sorry for?' he nearly sneers, 'always sayin' your sorry over nothing. y'know somethin' babe, sorry loses it's meaning when you're sayin' it all the time. it doesn't mean anything from you anymore.'

you nod, losing your resilience, too confused about how quickly you got here -- and he's right. you're always apologizing but half the time you don't even know what you're apologizing for. just that you feel like you need to be sorry. like you need to say sorry.

he holds that stare on you like he's waiting for you to speak again. daring you to say something. you stare down at the wood grain of the table, blank and empty -- numb, even. the mug between your hands is warm from how hard you were gripping the ceramic to keep you grounded.

's'what i thought,' he nods, voice a low rumble while he makes his way to the bathroom.

he'd never hit you.

the slam of the bathroom door makes you flinch.

sometimes you wish he would. maybe it would hurt less than this. at least that physical pain fades, right? at least it wasn't the same dull ache on a bruise that won't go away. are you hemmorhaging? do you just not feel it yet? will it be too late when you do?

he slides into bed with you at night after spending the rest of the evening out back with the other couples and families that were smoking ribs, having a little fire out in the brush. he smells like cigarettes. you could hear his grizzly laugh through the windows while you laid in the dark of your bedroom. too tired after the way he spoke to you to do anything else. everyone's favorite mechanic loverboy in the park.

you feel his fingertips on your shoulder, one of them gliding down the slope of your arm. he presses his lips to your shoulder blade, your eyes shut -- blearing with tears from that dull ache.

'dinner was really good, baby,' he says softly, a whisper.

you try to get out a thank you but it becomes a choke, a sniffle, a gasp. then a cry and then a harder one, remembering how he rolled his eyes at you two weeks ago when you cried after he threw out the love letter you wrote him for your four year anniversary because 'you didn't mean any of that shit anyway'.

he sits up, shushing you softly while his hand smooths over your bicep.

'what is it, sweetheart?' he asks, 'are you mad at me?'

you shake your head no. looking up at him, lying flat on your back. he looks so handsome in the moonlight, concerned eyes and tilted head peering down at you. 'n-no, ed. m'not mad at y-you,' you push out, head still scrambled. you feel guilty about last weekend, about going out today. what if guys really were looking? you know you weren't looking at them but what if they got the wrong idea? gina doesn't know what she's talking about, she's always hated ed. ever since they were kids.

'you just havin' one of your moments?' he asks, soothing voice, 'yeah?' one of your moments. always just one of your moments. couldn't be him, you're just -- maybe you're over thinking it.

'yeah,' you nod, 'm'sorry i went out with gina, baby i -- she didn't say anything bad about you.'

'it's okay,' he smiles, 'm'not mad at you. never mad at my girl.'

'no?' you ask, swallowing hard -- your heart leaps. he's not mad. maybe he just had a rough day.

'no doll, m'never mad at you. you always think i'm mad at you,' he says, thumb brushing away the tears that threatened to roll down the sides of your face to your hair line, 'you need me to kiss it better?'

another sob rips through you, nodding, because you do. you need it. and you sort of hate that you need it. you hate yourself for needing it. but he kisses you and it does feel better. he knows how to kiss you just right, he always has. he knows just where to put his hands. just how to pull away and brush his nose against yours. how to kiss your forehead between affirmations. smooth and understanding, like a movie scene. his kisses are his apologies. his sorry. you accept it every time.

because he doesn't hit you and he never would. in the morning, when the bathroom door slams so hard the walls vibrate, you flinch.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #dark!eddie munson #dark eddie munson #stranger things au #stranger things angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfiction

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