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#anyways this leather jacket look... i am here for it
suncaptor · 2 months
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speaking of 😘😘
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shotmrmiller · 5 months
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I'm your only situationship.
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A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.
18+ MDNI
TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 
Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 
“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”
“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”
“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”
“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 
He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.
“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”
His phone vibrated a minute later.
“I can’t today, Si.”
“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”
As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.
“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”
Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.
“Hiya, Si!” 
“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”
“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 
“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”
“No.” And hangs up. 
The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—
“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”
One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’
You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 
The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 
“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 
You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”
Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—
“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”
“Where is he?”, he snarls.
“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”
You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,
“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”
“No, pet.”
“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”
“Pet.” 
You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.
You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.
He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 
“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 
He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”
With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 
Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 
You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.
Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—
Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 
You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 
“You have a condom?” 
You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”
“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”
You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 
“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 
You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 
He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 
He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 
Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.
That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 
“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.
“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”
He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 
He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.
“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 
You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.
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help-itrappedmyself · 2 months
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Danny Punches a Clown Pt. 4
Previously in Part 3:
“I’m Red Robin, how long have you been in Gotham?”
“That really depends, Red Robin.”
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“On what?”
“What time it is.” Danny states. Red Robin lets out a concerned sounding chuckle.
“Probably not long then, I take it? It’s almost 3:00 am.” 
Danny nods, but on second thought this does little to help him. He doesn’t know what time it was when he got here and considering the new dimension bit he doesn’t know the time difference from his home dimension in the first place.
“Are you hurt?” 
Taking stock, Danny knows he isn’t fully recovered from his last fight in his dimension. He got hit with a few blasts that he knows are currently burns and he whacked his head either during the fight, after, or both but the headache is negligible at this point and he is not letting anyone take him to a doctor.
“I’m fine.” Danny hefts the backpack onto his shoulders and looks around. The alley is a dead end, so he’s going to have to get past Red Robin if he wants to leave. Despite all his questions he doesn’t seem to want to hurt him yet, so hopefully they can do this nicely. 
“What’s your name?” Red Robin has opened what seems to be a computer on his wrist.
“Danny.”
They look at each other for a moment before Red Robin nods.
“Okay, Danny. Why are you in Gotham?”
Danny shrugs. He is not particularly aware of Gotham and he didn’t have a destination in mind when he was running anyway. 
“Is your family here?”
Danny flinches and backs up a step at the mention of family, but Red Robin just puts up his hands again.
“Whoa, it’s okay. I’m sorry. No family, that’s fine.”
Then there are two more figures in the alley, someone in blue and someone in a leather jacket with a red mask covering their whole head jumped from the roofs behind Danny, and he doesn’t want to put his back to Red Robin, but he has seemed pretty nice and these guys are bigger and more of an unknown so he turns quickly to keep his eye on them.
“It’s okay,” Danny can hear from beside him. “This is Nightwing and Red Hood. They’re friends, I work with them.” 
Danny backs up to the wall of the alley near Red Robin, able to see everyone, but as he presses back against the wall his backpack presses up against one of the burns and he hisses involuntarily, flinching back forward a little. This is not a good situation to be in, Danny thinks as he looks around. He makes sure his backpack is securely on his shoulders before turning towards Red Robin.
“Sorry.” He mutters before quickly reaching out and grabbing him. He uses the momentum, and a little ghost strength, to toss Red Robin right into the other two and he doesn’t stick around to see what happens. He is running and he can hear footsteps behind him, and he doesn’t know where he is so he does the only thing he can think of.
He turns a corner, and then quickly, before any of them can catch up, walks himself right through the wall of the building to his left.
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Tag List: @that-random-fangirl, @sebas-nights, @whataspectaclebear, @wolf-iz-2000, @bl-webtoonweeb @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @molasses-being-slow @kiana996
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kingsandbastardz · 3 months
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So for basically my whole life I'd grown up with and was resigned to accept that the chinese concept of formal/nice clothing of my and the previous generation has been western clothes. So at any awards ceremonies or performances, entertainers would show up mostly in western suits/dresses and maaaaaybe you'll spot the occasional cheongsam if they're going for a Wong Fei Hong vibe. Which, you know, kinda sucks if you have any concept of western cultural imperialism in asia.
So when the hanfu revivalist movement started, I was waiting to see when it would enter the mainstream -- my hope was for fashion designers to integrate traditional/dynastic elements into their work and make it common place enough that I can buy this shit online for ME. Because I WANT.
Though some of the designs can be a bit hit or miss, I am LOVING what various stars and entertainers are wearing out and about now.
Anyway - here's a collection of Xiao Shunyao's modern hanfu inspired/hybridized stage outfits from the last couple years. For his MLC performances, his stylists seem to be borrowing inspiration from his Di Feisheng and possibly other character costume silhouettes.
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I'd been seeing a few comments about how his outfits play with gender - and some of his outfits do! But I think the interesting thing to discuss is from which standard is he playing with gender? Because from a western perspective, the things he does with his western suit tops, belting on top of the jacket for a tightly cinched waist, and the addition of a trailing skirt = femme. But if you're talking from a hanfu-hybridized pov, that's just a modern take on hanfu and having any of those elements is not inherently femme and would often read masc to me.
So these things aren't necessarily gendered because they exist traditionally in chinese men's clothing or costume designs (ie video games, comics, historical fiction illustrations and film, etc, so therefore in the modern lexicon of masculine/acceptable for men):
presence or lack of a skirt
silky, velvety, gauzy or sparkly material choice, esp in formal or stage clothing
short or long length of skirt
embroidery
flowers/floral/bird designs
folding fans
certain styles of makeup
beading, gold, tassels, jewels
non-chunky jewelry
headbands
widely flowing silhouettes
What XSY's stylists are doing with some western clothing items are interesting. I'm convinced there have been one or two western jacket tops made of thinner material that they're folding over the front, and belting down instead of buttoning (which then matches with his other outfits that are designed specifically to do this). Then they're adding a skirt, cloak or bracer element to it.
The western portions often bring a military minimalist feel which they balance with a more gauzy material in the skirt or cloak portions.
Things I think are playing with gender:
row 1 - image 1: red di feisheng-inspired outfit
The lace-up girdle is there to match the bracers in both material and style. And it's positioned to be similar to the heavy belt that Di Feisheng wears. HOWEVER. That style of girdle/corset-like clothing item can't be divorced from the modern idea of sexy leather corsets. So imo, this waist piece on that outfit was a choice. Especially when paired with his allergic-to-collars-higher-than-his-sternum necklines. And if you take into context how masculine yet female coded his character is in the drama, the whole look evokes that.
row 2, image 1: black western suit with belt on top, hat, cloak, black boots and not-visible but also a black tassel fringe skirt
Hat and cloak moves the intention of the outfit from western toward a more Asian slant, because alone, it looks like a western black suit with western heeled boots, cinched waist with a lady's belt (seated photoshoot) and western style tassel skirt. The suit top consists of a vest and a shrug-like sleeve portion that appears masculine at first glance. But take the shrug and pair it with the tassel skirt (I can't find the red carpet photos but here is a better view of the skirt when seated), and I think you got a look that's both intentionally edging toward the femme in a western sense but also confusing matters by hiding within the parameters of both western and chinese traditional male styling.
row 2 - image 2 : white asymetrical western jacket styled in a front fold-over style, gauze skirt, trailing pearl embellishments
The more traditional leaning version of this is the white outfit in row 3 that he wears to the Hi6 Hello Saturday variety show -- the skirt portion on that outfit is one I'd consider non-gendered. Row 1, images 2 and 3 are examples of masculine/neutral uses of gauze that plays with flow of form but isn't inherently femme. This stage outfit is very western-appearing masculine suiting, until you hit the skirt which is giving me long ballerina tie-on skirt with the additional swan/mermaid pearl strings. Imo, another example of deliberately using traditional masculine styling but switching it up with the combination of material choice and make that is feminine.
row 2, image 3: black space military boots, black suiting, black -silver ombre sequin trailing skirt and white gauzy shawl with black floral design
The over all design is going for a masculine military-feel. (think this outfit for shen langhun) But instead of a thicker military cloak, it's replaced with a woman's gauze shawl and a skirt that trails behind him very much like the back of a woman's formal fish-tail gown when he moves around. If you take into context Wang Herun's outfit is a white-silver sequined dress cut in a way to also give a space-military-queen vibe, imo they both coordinated their outfits to balance out with both femme and masc qualities.
Thoughts? I'm curious what others think about this.
While I wait for the CNY photoshoot for XSY's red and black look, here's him with his stage collaborators with a nice range of skirt lengths, period influences and material choices. The woman in the center is the one with the most military-fighter design out of the bunch. The dudes are all in variations of formal-wear-with-good-kicking-boots (and lots of crotch space).
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ew-selfish-art · 9 months
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Dp x Dc AU: Not exactly a meet cute between Jazz and Jason.
Jason's had a long night of beating the shit out of a gang that dared to sell in his territory, the last thing he needs is the Bats on his tail. He can always sense them when he leaves Crime Alley- they watch for him. Waiting for him to fail. It pisses him off.
So Jason shakes his tail, he's pretty sure it's the demon brat, parks his bike, removes his helm and heads into the loudest bar he can find, ditching his mask along the way. There are no camera's and there was no one watching, so Jason just looks like any other angry frat guy at the bar. Well, he supposes that the Leather jacket might be a stand out.
He grabs a drink, and looks at the time. Jason just needs to wait out the chance that a baby bird saw his bike and hope that curfew kicks in before this has to be a 'conversation'. Besides, the music is good and despite all the people, the crowd is pretty behaved.
"Hi! I'm so glad you're here!" A woman approaches, he can tell she's had a few drinks from her walk but her eyes scream sobriety and fear. She's tall in her flats, her hair looks disheveled (from dancing maybe) and her outfit screams 'this is the one fun black top I own'. She's beautiful and her approaching him might've been a wet teenage dream if his suspicions weren't immediately raised.
"I certainly am here." Jason replies, a smirk set into his features easily and as he straightens out his back he can see the three men watching the back of her head like predators. They're wearing super lame white hoodies and coats, like they're organized somehow.
"That's why you're my hero! Always ready to grab me at a moment's notice! Any chance you'll be good to leave after you finish that drink?" Her eyes are pleading but she keeps the same happy smile and joyful tone the whole time.
"Nah, no worries about the drink. It was cheap and I was just getting bored with it anyway. " Jason explains, setting his glass down on the counter. He's mentally photographed the three creeps, "Did any of your friends also need a ride home?"
"Nope! They all got in an uber... without me. So they'll be just fine!" She explains and there is an anger in her eyes that clearly meant she was telling the truth. Her hands are straightening out his jacket collar, making it look like they're more comfortable with each other than just strangers. She lays her hands flat on his chest once her task is completed and Jason feels his throat go dry.
"I'm always telling you to find better friends. Now c'mon, I parked out back." he wraps an arm around her waist, though its not tight, and peers over his shoulder. These guys weren't going to leave without a fight it seems, Dumb, Dumbie and Dumber are all watching her with evil in their eyes.
The two of them walk out and before she can even say thank you, the door swings back open and she's sucker punched one of the assholes and Jason's pulled his gun out for the other two.
"You gents are gunna go home, or you're gonna end up in the dirt. Pick." Jason growls. Not taking him seriously at first, he shoots one dudes foot and the last one standing looks like he might pass out. He picks up his fallen comrades and backs away into the bar.
"For ancients sake those dudes were trying to traffic the hell out of me." She sighs, and Jason holsters his gun.
"Yeah no shit. You okay?" Jason inquires.
"I will be. I'm Jazz, thanks for saving me Hood."
"I'm no-"
"You're literally leaning comfortably on Red Hoods motorcycle that still has his helmet perched on it. No one would do that unless they were suicidal or him." She challenges, but then a look changes in her eyes and she almost looks nervous "But still, do you uhm, wanna get out of here?"
He blinks. She was trying to pick him up? AFTER finding out he was a crime lord??
The answer is that yes, Hell Yes, Jason does want to get out of here. None of the Bats will bother him while he has a civilian, not at the diner he takes her too and certainly not while he's taking her back to one of his safe houses.
Jason had expected one of his siblings to show up in the morning and cause a ruckus. He hadn't planned for a dude to let himself into his kitchen screaming about government agencies tracking Jazz down that wasn't related. Turns out it's her brother and he's floating and no he's not going to explain why he's there or how he found them.
Jazz has a lot to explain to the both of them and it starts with "So I can admit that I have a thing for motorcycle guys-"
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toruro · 7 months
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— ✧ cry for me
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i want you to cry, cry for me (twice)
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pairing: lee chan x reader
description: in which you're holding back tears in a cute little restaurant because you spilled wine all over your lap, and chan is holding back a raging boner.
a part of the crybaby series (can be read as a standalone)
genre: smut (18+ / mdni), fluff, ft mingyu for a second
tags: tattooist + tattooed chan, crybaby reader, established relationship (they're so cute it's disgusting), dacryphilia, oral (m receiving), wall sex, petnames (baby, crybaby, princess), chan has a chest tattoo and i think that deserves it's own warning
w/c: 5.1k
a/n: i am a woman of my word: i finished it tonight! thank u to @rubyreduj iand @gyuswhore for looking this over for me when i thought i was going crazy. anyways, i hope u guys missed me actually writing. writer toruro is BACK!
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Pretty and short satin skirts are saved for nights like these. Under the dim glow of the moonlight and stars, the soft fabric falls loosely over your soft thighs and the beautiful curves of your hip. The cool night breeze pinches at your skin as you shuffle toward your boyfriend, hugging his arm that’s already linked with yours even closer to your chest.
Chan hums when you press your cheek against the cool leather of his jacket, “What is it baby?”
“‘m cold,” you mutter, pressing your legs together in an attempt to preserve what little warmth you have left. In hindsight, wearing this skirt probably wasn’t a good idea knowing that it’d be on the chiller side tonight but still, you couldn’t help but want to doll yourself up.
“Here,” Chan says, and you nearly whine when he pulls his arm away, but the complaints die on your tongue when he takes off his jacket and slips it over your shoulders, leaving him in his short-sleeve shirt.
“But—” you protest, running your fingers over his bare arm and frowning, but Chan cuts you off before you can speak further.
“Wear it baby, it looks nice on you,” he says casually, holding his arm out so you can wrap yourself around it again and hold him close. You feel warm, partly because of the protection that Chan’s jacket provides but mostly because of the way your body flushes with heat at his affectionate words.
The two of you are standing outside of this restaurant that you’ve been aching to try for ages, waiting for your names to be called in. As you settle back into his hold, Chan pulls out his phone holding it at an angle so the both of you can read the messages on the screen when he scrolls through your friends’ group chat.
“You wanna go to Jeonghan’s place tomorrow?” you ask, noticing Jeonghan complaining about being bored since Jihoon never leaves his room. Chan nudges your head with his own affectionately before shrugging.
“I’ll go if you go.”
You frown. “Well do you want to?”
“Baby if you want to, then I want to,” Chan says with a chuckle. “And anyways—”
“Chan! Table for two!” the voice of the hostess from the entrance of the restaurant calls out, and the two of you perk up. Chan raises a hand and nods, gently tugging his arm out of your grasp and instead slotting your hand in his, pulling you to follow after him inside.
The hostess greets you kindly, and you’re thankful that indoors is much less cold and much more inviting as she takes you to your table where you and Chan sit across from each other.
“What were you saying?” you ask as you settle into the seats, slipping off Chan’s jacket and handing it to him.
He only holds his hand out, palm facing you, and shakes head with a smile. “Keep it. Anyways, I was saying that I’ve been meaning to talk to Jeonghan for a while since he said he wanted to get a tattoo done.”
Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at that as you carefully drape his jacket over the back of your chair, scooting forward. “No way! Jeonghan always told me he’d never get a tattoo ‘cause he’s scared of needles.”
Chan laughs and his eyes light up. “Didn’t you say you were scared of needles? Look at where you are now …” he murmurs, eyes glossing over the little crescent moon on your arm, and then the small star that he had the privilege of pressing into your wrist just a few weeks earlier.
You shift in your seat and shyly nod. “Yeah but … that’s different. I think I might’ve chickened out of the last part if—” Your breath hitches in your throat and you stop yourself from finishing what you were about to say. If he hadn’t fucked you in that tattoo parlor right there and then, is what you both are thinking.
Chan grins at the way you grow flustered at his words before changing the topic. “I like this top, is it new?” he asks, eyes glossing over the blue, knit shirt that you put on for him just an hour earlier.
“Yeah! I got it to match the skirt—I’ve had this one for a while though, but it didn’t look nice with any of my tops I had until now, so I was really excited to finally get to wear it,” you tell him with a grin, hands smoothing over the satin and brushing over the plush of your thighs. Your stomach fills with a wave of giddiness when Chan smiles at you and nods.
“I’m glad. You look really pretty,” he says, reaching over and grabbing your hand. His gaze doesn’t falter, eyes on you as you continue to tell him about how you thought the shirt was sold out when you found it online you cried (Chan remembers; you called him with choked sniffles at midnight and almost hung up right away out embarrassment but he assured you that it was okay), rubbing a thumb over your skin as you speak.
You two fall into conversation naturally after that, waiting for your food to come as your fingers intertwine and sit in the middle of the table comfortably. The waiter starts off with your drinks—a wine for you each—before bringing out the appetizers.
Things go smoothly as they always do: the food is amazing and the setting is perfect, Chan’s hand grazes over yours ever so often and his eyes are on you in a loving gaze—everything’s going great, actually.
So maybe that’s why you let it get a little to your head when you hear the clanking of glass against glass.
It happens so quickly—the sound reverberates through the room and you blink once and then twice, looking down to find the growing wet spot on your cute little skirt. The feeling of wine against your skin hits you next, and when you look to your right and see the apologetic look of the waiter as he scrambles for the glass on the ground, it sinks in.
Fuck, and there it is again—that ugly feeling that clogs your throat and the furious blinking of your eyes as you try your best (you really, really do try your best). Chan knows it all too well, the way you press your lips together and try not to quiver as you reach down and try to help the waiter.
“What the hell man?” Chan exclaims, standing up from his seat in an instant to walk over to you, his eyes set as a hard glare on the waiter as he observes the growing stain on your precious little skirt.
The waiter stutters for a moment, reaching forward to dab a napkin over your lap, but your boyfriend stops him midway, swatting his hand away. “Watch it—” Chan peers closer at his name tag as he snatches the napkin from the waiter’s hand, “—Mingyu. You’ve done enough.”
“I-I’m sorry,” the waiter, Mingyu stutters out, holding the dropped wine glass behind his back as he shuffles away.
Chan glares at him hard as he presses a hand against your back, and if your vision wasn’t already so blurry you might have been intimidated by how intense the gaze was. Instinctively, you turn your face towards his figure as you feel other customers’ eyes over the little scene unfolding at your table. “C-can we go?” you ask him quietly.
It doesn’t take him more than a second for Chan to turn to Mingyu and mutter, “Just get us the check. We’re leaving.”
Mingyu nods bashfully and scurries away, but you don’t really notice because you’re chewing down on your lip as your boyfriend pats your back and leans down to watch you apologetically. Fuck, you feel so pathetic for crying over this but you can’t help it! You really can’t!
You’ve been looking forward to this night for so long and have been planning this outfit for even longer, and now that both your night and your pretty little skirt are ruined, you swear you can’t stop the tears from falling.
Chan hates it when you cry. Well, that’s a lie. It’s a fickle thing, really—the anger that bubbles up inside of him whenever he sees your eyes red and brimming with tears isn’t directed at you—fuck no—but rather whatever (in this case, whoever) caused it in the first place.
So yeah, you could say Chan hates it when you cry, but then again, he finds it cute when you call him, sniffling over your favorite croissant being sold out at that cafe down the street you always go to. He hates when you waste tears over things like this, but he also knows you can’t help it, and there’s something oddly endearing about the way you always lean in to his touch for comfort. After all, you’re his sweet girl, and he loves all of you; the parts of you that cry over seeing a kitten struggle to cross the street and the parts of you that sob when he’s shoving his cock into your warm cunt.
All of it, he loves all of it.
So maybe that’s why Chan can’t help but get a little bit lost in your puffy, glossy eyes when you look up at him and silently beg for some comfort. He knows it’s an innocent gesture, and when he runs a hand down the side of your cheek and you nuzzle into his palm, he almost feels guilty for the way his cock begins to strain against his pants.
You’re just so cute, and Chan swears he can’t control himself. He can’t ever control himself when it comes to you.
Using the napkin he snagged from Mingyu just moments earlier, Chan leans down and swipes over the wetness on your thighs, soaking up as much of the red liquid that he can. It’s kind of hard to think, honestly. He watches your tears mix with the wine on your lap, and while his fingers brush over the plush of your thighs, he starts to lose himself entirely.
Stop! Stop! Stop! Chan tries to tell himself because really, he should be focusing on taking care of his sweet, sweet girl and wiping away her tears but here he is trying to not think about the massive hard-on he’s got going on beneath his pants.
Mingyu stops by with the check, frantic with more wipes as he cleans up the ground as Chan pays the bill. You quietly slip on the same leather jacket Chan gave to you just half an hour earlier as he helps you get up from the seat, cringing at the way your wet and stained skirt feels against your legs.
With his hand closed around your wrist, your boyfriend leads you to the exit but you keep your head down bashfully. You feel the gazes of other customers on your back as you two make your way out of the restaurant, and the cold night air is a stark contrast to the way your body burns with embarrassment.
Once finally outside and standing by the parking lot, Chan takes a moment to look at you. You’re still biting down on your lip like it’s the only thing you know how to do, eyes trained to the ground as you tighten your fingers around him instinctively. He senses something is bothering you—something other than the fact that your meticulously planned outfit was ruined on such a whim.
Nightly zephyrs pulse against his skin and Chan glances down at your slightly shaking legs, realizing that they are now wet and exposed and probably feel colder than ever. “C’mon baby,” he urges, tugging you towards his car, “Let’s sit inside.” Silently, you comply and follow behind him, slipping into the passenger seat and sighing contently as you escape the chilliness of the night.
He watches you as you click your seatbelt on, sinking into the seat when that familiar clenching of your jaw and furious blinking of your eyes takes over your features. “Oh baby,” Chan coos, shuffling closer to you so he can plant a hand on the back of your neck. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he asks as you bury your hands in your face in a fruitless attempt to muffle your sniffles.
“I—” You stop because your voice comes out all ugly and distorted. “—I was s-so excited for tonight,” you admit honestly, calming down a little as Chan’s hand runs up and down your spine soothingly. “And then I just—I ruined it.”
“Baby, what are you talking about?” your boyfriend asks, tapping your cheek so you finally look up at him. Your cheeks are a little puffy and your bottom lip juts out in a pretty pout, and Chan brushes a thumb over the wet skin. “You didn’t ruin anything—it’s all that prick Mingyu’s fault. We can go to my place and still have fun,” he suggests, and although he means it to be a thoughtful gesture—something like takeout and ice cream—he can’t help but fantasize about some other definitions of fun.
“But—”
“No buts baby. Except, maybe yours,” Chan tells you with a playful wink, his heart swelling when you manage out a giggle between your harsh breaths. He starts to pull himself away from you when he senses a lightening of your mood, and so slowly, he starts the engine.
You settle into a comfortable silence as he starts the drive back to his place, and even though he’s mainly focused on keeping a smile on your face, Chan really can’t ignore the relentless ache in his pants.
After all, how could he when you insisted on keeping his hand on your thigh? “Wanna feel you,” is what you said when you guided his fingers to settle over the soft flesh, and Chan has half a mind to think it’s in an innocent gesture—his sweet girl just wants to keep him close—but he also knows you.
Chan knows that beneath all the soft whimpers and hot tears is a girl far more observant than you let on, and he’d be stupid to think you didn’t notice the tent in his pants earlier.
Maybe he’ll make you pay for that, he thinks as he parks in front of his apartment building, but when you shyly slip out of his car and keep your head hanging low as your eyes glaze over the big red stain on your skirt, Chan thinks otherwise.
Again, he can’t ever control himself when it comes to you.
Any thoughts Chan might have had about teasing you until the world’s demise wash away when he closes the door behind him as you both walk into his apartment. He knows you get a bit needy when you’re upset but still, he wasn’t really expecting you to turn around and sink into his arms the second the lock clicks shut.
Your cheek is pressed into his chest as your arms circle his firm torso, and from above, Chan can see that your eyes are pressed shut. The base of your stomach is pressing into his crotch and fuck, he can’t tell if you intentionally shift against him because your face looks so sad but then again, there’s no way you’re doing this without thinking.
Still, Chan shoves away the filthy thoughts that he really doesn’t think he should be having and wraps his arms around your shoulders, placing a hand on the back of your head. You’re not sure how long you guys stay like that, and despite the ache that burns between both of your legs, it’s a comforting few moments—his fingers in your hair as you pull him closer to you.
You need a distraction, you’ve realized. Something to really cry about.
Being with Chan over the past few months has taught you that, in the best way possible, your tears really mean nothing unless they’re falling because of him. Maybe it’s the thought that prompts you to finally pull away and pout up at him.
“Channie,” you whimper and fuck, Chan knows those eyes. You know he does.
“What is it baby?” he asks, gazing down at you so intensely that you know he isn’t even bothering to hide his lust anymore. He holds your cheek with a hand, thumb stroking over your soft skin for a moment before crashing his lips onto yours.
Chan kisses your breath away. Teeth nipping and sucking against yours as your tongues melt in a hot mess when he presses you into the wall. Looming into you from above, his grip on your face remains tight as he guides you deeper into his mouth, crotch pressing into your lower stomach.
It’s dizzying, almost. Kissing Chan always is.
It isn’t long before you’re pawing at his chest as you struggle to keep up with his intensity. Your palms ache for his skin, and having your fingers run up and down his firm arms just isn’t enough. When Chan pulls his lips away, your eyebrows furrow and your bottom lip juts out into a pout.
“Off,” you mumble, weakly tugging at the hem of his shirt, and usually Chan would play with you a little longer, make you beg a little harder, make you really work for it, but he feels that you’ve already suffered enough.
Swiftly, he pulls the tight shirt over his head, revealing the firmness that lay beneath the fabrics, and fuck, you think you might just pass out on the spot—you’ll never get sick of seeing him like this.
“Like what you see baby?” Chan chuckles, but he already knows the answer from the way your eyes zone in on the symmetrical pattern that adorns his upper chest.
“Always …” you mutter, wrapping your arms around his torso and pressing your body close against his as you start to place kisses all over his skin. Shy and sweet is what your lips feel like, skitting over his chest as Chan watches you in admiration; your tongue traces over the dark curves, eyes fluttering shut as if you’ve already got it memorized by heart (you probably do).
His hands start to thread in your hair, pressing against your scalp until he’s fisting the strands and tugging your head back. Chan’s mouth meets yours in a hot mess—your own saliva’s already smeared all over your chin and cheeks, and the mix of tongue against tongue and teeth against teeth is only adding to the sloppy kiss as he backs you into the wall.
“Baby,” he whispers into your mouth before beginning to trail rough kisses down your jawline and over your collarbone. He sucks blotchy, red marks into your soft skin, fingers kneading at the flesh of your waist when you start to press your lower half into his. “Baby, you drive me fucking crazy.”
You wanna scream and say ‘ditto’ but the only sound that escapes your lips is a choked moan when he shoves a thigh between your legs and presses against your core. The ache is like a fire, burning through your veins and blooming all up inside of you, making your tummy tumble and your eyes roll to the back of your head as you clamp your bottom lip between your teeth.
Grinding against him, your skirt rides up your thighs revealing the pretty white, lace panties hidden beneath, and Chan’s breath hitches in his throat. Something buzzes in his head and it’s like a rush in his ears—his hands shoot out and are all over your tits.
Gripping the soft flesh over your pretty little shirt and matching lace bra underneath, and soon you’re scrambling to get all this fabric off of you. “So pretty baby, so pretty,” Chan breaths out when he steps away from you a little, dropping his knee as you toss your shirt and bra to the side. He grabs your chin and uses his fingers to squish your cheeks together as you look up at him dreamily. “You’ll suck Channie off, right baby?” he coos, and you feel your legs grow weak at the sickly sweet touch to his tone.
“Yeah-huh,” you pant, inching closer to him as you start to drop to your knees, hands immediately making their way to the waistband of his dark jeans. Chan doesn’t help you with the belt—he enjoys watching you fumble with the leather, pouting when it doesn’t come out as easy as you’d like.
Once you finally work your way around it, you’re unbuttoning his jeans and yanking them down to reveal the bulge that strains against his boxers. Without a second thought, you lick his cock over the fabric, eyes lazily looking up at Chan who watches you expectantly.
“You know what to do baby,” he tells you, and so you comply, hooking your fingers under the elastic band and tugging his boxers down. When his cock springs out, it lightly slaps against your cheek, precum smearing all over your already wet cheeks.
Chan thinks you look so beautiful like this, shiny cheeks marked by his heavy cock that starts to make its way between your lips with the guidance of your hands. Soft fingers play with the base of his length as you swipe over the tip your shy tongue and fuck—you look so hot when you stare up at him like that, like you don’t know all the depraved things Chan wants to do with you.
You start off with kitten licks—lapping at the precum that’s dribbled all over the pretty, prominent veins that adorn his cock, and pressing your tongue flat against his bulbous tip. Chan runs a hand over your hair, resting his palm against the crown of your head at the end and gently pushing you forward.
You whimper as you start to take more of his length into your mouth, the underside dragging against your tongue, and you move one hand up to wrap around the base of where your mouth can’t reach, using the other hand to cup his balls.
“Jus’ like that,��� Chan mumbles, watching you struggle to take him deeper, shoving his fat tip to the back of your throat as far as you can, tears pricking in your eyes, before pulling back to take in a heaving breath. “Good job baby,” he urges you on, when you open your mouth again, taking him down your throat again.
Your jaw aches as you repeat the motion, tears dripping down your cheeks, over your chin, and onto your soft thighs. Every time his cock pushes to the back of your throat, a few more drops fall, and soon Chan starts to take the lead, directing the movement of your head with his grip on your head.
And it feels so fucking good, the way he’s a got a firm grip on you, the way his cock stretches your mouth open so nicely—so you can taste all of him—the way he’s muttering curses amidst the murmurs of praise; “Yeah baby, feel’s so fuckin’ good.”
It’s got even you rolling your eyes to the back of your head and all you can think is Chan, Chan, Chan, and he can think about is you, you, you—and suddenly, he’s pulling his length out of your mouth so quickly it has your vision going white.
“Gotta cum w’me, princess,” Chan instructs over the rush in your ears, grabbing your wrist and gently tugging you to your feet. You’re slightly light-headed, stumbling forward from all the movement, but Chan catches you gently with a soft chuckle. “Easy baby, easy,” he murmurs, smoothing one hand over your head and kissing your aching lips softly as he once again presses you into the wall.
You make out sloppily for a few moments, your arms wrapping around his neck, tongues melting into each other as Chan tastes himself on you. His hands are playing with the zipper of your skirt, and with a soft gasp into his mouth, he pushes them down to pool at your ankles. “Leg up baby,” he tells you, tapping your hip with one hand so you get the message.
Hastily, you lift your thigh, involuntarily groaning against Chan’s lips when his big, rough hand plants itself on the underside of your thigh, helping you wrap your leg around his torso. His cock’s prodding right against your leg now, and you swear you can feel how painfully hard he is, swear you can feel him straight up throbbing against you.
“‘m so wet Channie,” you sigh helplessly, slotting one hand between your parted legs and swiping your fingers over the slick that drenches your thin panties. With slippery hands, you mindlessly reach for Chan’s cock, gently nestling the thick length against your clothed core.
“Oh fuck,” Chan groans at the contact, jutting his hips further into yours to increase the friction. His pelvis is flush against yours, and the stimulation of his skin against your clothed clit along with his cock sliding right by your folds is dizzying. “Makin’ a mess already, huh?” he says, shoving the fabric of your panties to one side to reveal your dripping cunt.
Quickly, his fingers are all over you, sliding between your slickness and thumb rubbing circles into your clit until you’re whining and fuck—Chan hardly gets to stick one finger into your tight cunt before you’re almost on the verge of tears again—
“Channie, need your cock now,” you cry out, hands pawing at the tattoo over his chest. “Can’t wait—need it no—oh.” The last words die on your tongue when Chan shoves his fat tip inside you. “Oh Channie—feels s’full,” you moan, your head falling back and hitting against the wall as he continues to slide his full length against your walls.
“Yeah princess?” he mutters, leaning forward and kissing your shoulder blade after he fully bottoms out inside of you. Your cute little cunt is screaming from pleasure, erupting flames all over your skin as you struggle to adjust to his size. Chan can see it, the way you’re already trembling, standing leg quivering as you try your best to not crumble into him, try your best to not give in right away.
You always look so cute trying when you know you’re gonna fail anyways.
Without warning, Chan drags his cock out slowly, and when you look at him with those glossy eyes and flushed cheeks, he can’t help but slam right back into you with a force that throttles you against the wall.
“Fuck,” you whimper, running one hand up Chan’s arm, tracing the curves of his biceps before finally gripping onto his shoulder tightly.
“You feel it princess?” Chan asks you softly when he drags out of you again before pressing you into the wall with another harsh thrust.
“Yeah-huh,” you nod dumbly, using your free hand to run your palm over your lower stomach. “Feel you all the way here Channie,” you moan when he shifts inside of you so his cock is hitting you even deeper. “Fuck!” you cry out when his pace starts to speed up, the tears that lingered in your lash line already starting to drip down your face.
“My pretty baby’s crying already …” Chan coos with a mocking pout, grip on your waist tightening so much you feel you’ll have bruises the next morning. “That’s it princess … cry it out—I know you wanna,” he eggs you on once he leans in, fingers ghosting by your earlobe.
“Can’t help it,” you choke out, finally letting the soft sobs pleasure erupt from your throat, head falling against Chan’s shoulders. “Feel so good Channie—can’t help it—’m sorry, I—”
“Shh,” Chan hushes you with a particularly harsh trust, pressing so close to you that his pelvis is once again bumping against your clit. “Don’t apologize … you look so pretty … pretty crybaby. That’s what you are, aren’t you? My crybaby?”
“Ye-yes!” you mewl when your legs start to shake more rapidly.
“Yeah … yeah—fuck,” Chan huffs when you clench down on him, and your walls are so tight around his length that you’re starting to wonder just how much longer you can hold out for.
“Can’t have anyone seeing you like—fuck—like this,” he moans, gripping your thigh tighter and tighter as he starts ramming into you so fast it’s punching the air straight out of your lungs. You’re wailing into his skin now, teething at his neck as your whole face is covered in a hot and sticky mess, fingers running all up and down his chest.
“Only thing you should be crying over is me, okay baby? You got that?”
“Uh-huh,” you whimper, fingers sinking into his skin as you feel that familiar wave of pleasure well up in your stomach. “Only yo—oh fuck, Channie ‘m gonna cum s—fuck!” you gasp out, hiccuping over your own tears as the waves crash down.
Your legs go limp as Chan’s cock drills into your warm cunt, the combined arousal dripping down your thighs and onto the floor (you’ll have to clean the ground later). His fat cock is battering against your tight walls roughly, fluttering walls pressing down on every vein, every curve of the length.
“There you go princess, cum f’me,” he grunts as he secures one arm around your waist, digging your back deeper into the wall so you don’t fall over as he starts to ride out his own orgasm against your pulsing walls.
Watching your blown out eyes and swollen lips, tear kissed cheeks and disheveled hair, Chan feels his own eyes rolling to the back of his head when your overstimulated pussy clamps down on him, squeezing out every last drop of cum. Painting your walls white, the sensation of Chan’s cum filling you up has you whimpering and mewling into his neck as he starts to loosen his grip.
“Fuck princess … made such a mess,” he mutters, looking down at the sticky mixture that rests where his softening cock meets your cute cunt.
“Hmm,” you hum, letting your wobbly legs drop to the floor once his cock flops out of your slippery, cunt, nuzzling into his tattooed chest. Giggling softly, you wrap your arms around his torso and look up at him with a lazy grin, “I forgot why I was crying earlier.”
Chan smiles, holding your cheeks with both his hands to press a chaste kiss on your lips. “That’s my girl.”
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crybaby series masterlist
a/n: thank u for reading, i hope u enjoyed >_< pls feel free 2 leave comments / rbs if u did! i know i took horrendously long 2 pop pt2 of crybaby :[ I'M SORRY guys not 2 ramble but i have been in a writing slump recently and this is the only thing of decent length and decent quality that i have produced in the span of two months so c: i am happy w how this turned out! i'll try my best to get the 3rd and final part of the series a little bit quicker, but no promises :3
taglist pt1: @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @todorokiskitten @98-0603 @hipsdofangirl @minnie-mouser22 @minhui896 @whippedforjihoon @seokchannieworld @nishloves @woozarts @ellesmoon @blurryriki @maknae00 @hanniebanggi @peachyaeger @shoulietaro @1004luvangel @dnylwoo @dollyhaes @gyulune @wonranghaeee @tsukkisboo @cheolism (strike through could not be tagged)
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whatifyoulivelikethat · 9 months
Text
almonds, m | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: You're having a really shitty day and it ends with Jeon Jungkook cumming on your ass. Oh, some stuff happens in the middle. You eat some almonds. Yeah.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; acquaintances-to-lovers; mentions of fasting (restricted eating for the day); reader is the hot girl bro of her friend group (yup); so much TENSION; JK is def a shy mess and reader teases him just because he's cute; smut w/o penetration (fem reader, semi-public sex in a rented photo studio space, m-receiving oral, handjob, fingering, forearm kink, nipple play, m-masturbation, cum-eating, multiple orgasms, overstimulation); non-idol!BTS – hobbyist photographer!Jungkook x model?reader
--
“You seem annoyed.”
“Just had to tell someone I didn’t want to date them and then had to deal with a grown man’s hissy fit. Well, I guess that doesn’t make him grown, does it? Hmph. Anyway.”
You threw your jacket aside with too much force and exasperation. It flew off the chair and shot into Jeon Jungkook’s legs.
Oops.
“Um…”
“Sorry,” you muttered, hurrying over and yanking your black-and-scarlet leather bomber off the ground, dumping it firmly on the seat of the foldable chair. “Sorry. It wasn’t that serious. It was simply unnecessary and a waste of time. I also hate being late. Sorry, again.”
“N-No, I mean… we don’t have to do this today. If it’s too much trouble for you.”
You didn’t know Jeon Jungkook that well and yet here you were. You knew of him. He was friends with a lot of your friends, but both he and you were introverted and were the type to be in own your own worlds. There wasn’t much chance to interact with him and you didn’t think to. Also, your male friends got a little weird if other guys approached you too readily, even if they personally knew them. Some macho man shit or something. You didn’t know.
“It’s no trouble. Really.”
You rubbed your forehead and placed your backpack on the table. Maybe you needed a snack. No, now was not the time. You hadn’t eaten at all today. Specifically, for this. You didn’t know Jungkook well, but you did know he was helping another of your friends who was a tattoo artist. He had a photography hobby and he had tattoos done by said friend, so they asked him to take some artsy shots for their tattoo and piercing studio. Your forward helix was done by the same guy on a drunk night (not that the customers were going to know that… also the piercer was the drunk one and you were the sober one, so, honestly, who was the problem), and so were your double helix piercings (sober day and you paid him like a responsible human being), all on your right ear. Since you didn’t have tattoos, you didn’t think you would be asked, but.
As your friend put it, “I don’t want to look at only dudes on my walls. I’m sure my customers don’t either. I need at least one hot girl. Be a bro.”
Okay, bro.
“I was only trying to buy some almonds and I got accosted by this guy I was talking to, then I had to stand there through this guy’s sobbing as the register was malfunctioning and it was all very annoying,” you sighed, then put a pin in the (literal) sob story. It (he) was irrelevant anyway. “But I am free of him.... hopefully… and I’m sorry I’m late. I didn’t expect that to happen today, hah, I simply wanted some fuckin’ almonds.”
You had bowed with your apology. Upon finishing your last remark, you yanked the small packet of almonds out of your bag and slapped them on the black canvas accusingly as if they were the ones that caused you a lot of trouble. As if it was the almonds’ fault, not some dude that couldn’t take the hint and comprehend that you didn’t want a relationship with him.
Maybe you male friends getting a little weird were on the right track.
Also, maybe you should stop trying to sneak behind their backs and meeting guys through apps.
Sigh.
The silence lasted a few seconds.
Then.
A very tentative, “You like nuts?”
You suddenly remembered Jeon Jungkook was standing next to you. Oh, right. “Ah, I heard models eat raw almonds on shoots to curb their hunger,” you chuckled sheepishly, looking up at him and realizing, once again, that there was a lack of closeness preventing you from being too comfortable. He was taller than you and was gazing at you with big, round eyes and a curious expression. You cleared your throat before speaking again. “Since I’m wearing a crop top, I didn’t want to…” You trailed off, hoping he understood.
He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, mussing up his hair. “Oh, yeah, I’ve been doing intermittent fasting so I would…”
Then.
Your eyes connected with Jungkook’s and you both stopped talking.
It was only then that you fully processed the man in front of you.
He was wearing a ribbed white tank top that very much showed off his built frame. Whenever Jungkook happened to be at the friend gatherings, he was the type to always wear baggy shirts and loose pants. You had heard before that he worked out a lot, but you had never really thought about it because he preferred to be a fabric mountain in public. Understandable that he enjoyed being comfortable. But now you were taken aback by the close-fitted top and his tapered, straight-leg, dark blue jeans, complete with messy black hair falling over his forehead and grazing the nape of his neck. He typically wore beanies and baseball caps at the get-togethers, probably to avoid styling his hair. All that to say that you weren’t prepared for Jeon Jungkook to look…
Like a model.
Yeah.
He seemed to sense your visual analysis and started, placing his arms over his chest awkwardly as if that was going to block anything. His arms were muscular too. There were no tattoos on his left arm – for now (you knew his type). His entire right arm was a sleeve of them. Deep black and vibrant color, lively tattoos that spread all the way up to his shoulder, ending with crowning petals resembling a floral mandala reaching almost to his collarbone. His hand even had a few small tattoos, the most notable being the sheepish emoji with the squiggly smile.
“Oh, y-yeah, I t-thought… er…”
You didn’t interrupt.
You simply stared at him.
It was unnerving him and it was beginning to greatly amuse you.
“I mean, to take photos of my sleeve and stuff… and you’re so… uh.”
You looked down at yourself. “You said I should wear black and white if I could.” Tight white cropped tank with a thicker, more rigid construction so you didn’t have to wear a bra. Exposed midriff and mid-rise black jeans with a slight flare to accommodate your high-heeled black ankle boots with silver buckles suggestively coffin-shaped.
Hey, you had to have some personality even in a bland outfit.
Jungkook was malfunctioning a little.
“Y… Yeah…”
He also had two rings pierced on the right side of his lip now. He only had one when you saw him last. When had he gotten the second? Your eyes tracked the silver hoops interestedly as Jungkook gulped, revealing the little mole underneath his lips. He had another one on his nose, several on his right cheek, and one on his neck. Hmmmm.
“I was thinking the m-majority of the photos would be black and white… and I would just take some shots of my arm in color later.,” he was saying, backing away from you and into the rented studio space, to the white backdrop and bright lights. There was a camera tripod and monitors set up already. In the center of the white background was a rectangular white pedestal. Probably to sit on to aid with posing. Everything was going to be torso up it seemed.
You followed him, scanning the room. “Oh, I should check my make-up, huh,” you thought out loud.
Sudden heat.
“No, I mean, it’s better if it’s natural, there’s a little–”
You were still standing absolutely motionless as Jungkook brushed his thumb against your left cheek, leaving a trail of prickling skin and a hot sensation pouring down your spine. When did he–? And what was with this earnest, concerned expression? Not quite making eye contact yet, but suddenly realizing what he had done as the silent seconds ticked by. His shaking irises slid towards you, immediately apologetic, but too embarrassed to speak.
Jaw completely slack, mouth open, completely frozen.
“I, um,” you coughed, waving a hand loosely. “It’s a mole. Next to my lip.”
It seemed, to the shock of neither party, that Jungkook had understood that way before you even said it out loud. Probably because he had attempted to wipe your moles away with his finger. Awkward. His thumb was still lingering by your ear.
“O… Oh.”
Yeah. Oh.
“I don’t really wear foundation,” you tried to clarify. “Only on special occasions.”
Jungkook’s face was quite close to yours. He had to bend down a little to be eye-to-eye. He was really staring, similarly to how you were analyzing his body earlier. It wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable and you didn’t view it as invasive since you had partaken in the same act earlier.
It was just…
Giving you a racing feeling throughout your veins.
“Your skin is so smooth and pretty already,” he murmured in that deep, dreamy voice of his, almost inaudibly, like he hadn’t meant to say it.
The tops of your ears were abruptly on fire. You had to force the word out.
“T… Thanks.”
You were still clutching the packet of almonds as if they were life support.
The sharp crackle of the plastic cut through the silence. Jungkook jerked, pulling his hand back, and you let out a silent breath, surprised at the suspension of the unpredicted moment. Both looking away from each other, and you didn’t dare look back to check how he was doing because you were internally scolding yourself. It was only the current circumstances. The way the chips fell today was throwing you off your game. You weren’t being professional, not that this was an overly professional setting, but you expected yourself to be professional or at least not intimidate the shit out of someone you were about to work with.
Wouldn’t want weird vibes the entire time.
You wanted to say you were sorry again, but it seemed unnecessary and you would rather show your apologies with action. You shoved the packet of almonds in your pocket.
Damn almonds.
“So, um, what would you like me to do? I’m not a model, but I can follow instructions.”
You forced yourself to face him and not make it weird. It wasn’t a shameful moment and there was no reason to act ashamed about it. At first, Jungkook didn’t move, big peepers and all, but you firmly walked over to the white background and stood there in front of the camera lens, seeing one of the monitors was facing you. You weren’t in focus. You backed up to the rectangular pedestal and now you were, skin glowing under the bright lights, looking inquisitive at the arrangement. Raised a hand. The image was flipped rather than mirrored. Ah, okay. You played with your reflection for a moment while Jungkook hurriedly went behind the camera and fiddled with the settings.
Neither of you said anything about the…
Uh.
Tension.
You left the spot for a moment to hurry back to your backpack. Water, extra clothes in case an outfit change was needed, pocket hand sanitizer for the bus, another package of almonds. You fished out your makeup bag and felt around, taking out the two black hair clips inlaid with mother-of-pearl. Lotus flowers. After a moment of consideration, you unhooked your white gold hoop earrings on your lower lobe piercing and put on the pearl lotus flower earrings you had brought with you. They were tiered and dangled on thin silver chains, waterfalling against your neck. You placed your other earring set in a small black velvet pouch and pocketed them in your right jeans pocket, just in case Jungkook thought the dangling ones were too distracting. As a last thought, you plucked the hand sanitizer from your bag and squirted some on your hands, rubbing them together swiftly.
You had messed with your piercings, after all.
You hurried back, pulling your hair away from your right ear, peering at the monitor. Tucked your hair behind your show ear and placed the hair clips accordingly so all your ear piercings were on display.
“Oh!”
“I thought it would be good to show off a little,” you mentioned absentmindedly, frowning as you noticed the chain connecting one of your helixes to your higher lobe piercing was tangled. You carefully pulled the strand of hair away and swept it back. Hadn’t thought of bringing hairspray, shit. Hopefully–
You froze, your hands framing your ear.
Looked up and Jungkook was gawking at your narcissistic use of the monitor.
“Ah, it’s just… there’s no mirror…” Your eyes shifted, rueful in your vanity. “I could go to the bathroom and…”
“N-No, it’s totally fine,” he sputtered. You sensed movement and looked back to see him waving his arms frantically. “I didn’t even think of any of these things, like accessories and hair and stuff… I was kind of hoping that you already knew what you liked… and stuff…”
Even though you weren’t originally close with Jungkook, there were parts of your personality that you just couldn’t hold back.
Like teasing.
“You said and stuff twice,” you snickered.
Immediately, Jungkook gave you this look of puffed cheeks and indignation. “Hey!” Then he seemed to realize his childlike outburst and flushed, shaking his head quickly. “Argh…”
You laughed, dropping your hands and relaxing your shoulders. Better to move along with this newfound tension than the previous one. You straightened and turned your body, right side with all your piercings facing the camera, the ornate earrings catching the light.
“Come on. Let’s start.”
You had thought it would be weird, modeling like this, but it was much easier since you weren’t supposed to look at the camera. With a purpose and your willingness to continue, Jungkook instructed you to tilt your head and move your body. It was quick considering it was primarily your right profile. He asked for movement of your hair and head so there was some life to the photos rather than just the stills. Once you sat on the pedestal and moved your head, he brought the camera tripod closer and stepped around it, holding the small remote in his left hand.
“I did a few solo shots before you arrived,” he was saying, concentrated on the task at hand. “Just to test lighting and stuff. Do you want to review? Or should we move on?”
“Do you like at least one of them?” you chuckled, turning your head back.
Jungkook was bent over the table, bringing the wireless mouse over so he could change the window and scroll through what was taken. You had a brief moment of looking at his shoulder blades and back muscles before ripping your gaze away, seeing your own face in a filter of black and white. Oh. It hadn’t really sunk in that this was photography until this moment. You almost didn’t recognize yourself.
Was that you?
Whoa.
“This one is good. And this one.”
Lips. Jawline. Lowered lashes. Hair curling along the other shoulder, creating that kind of wild devil-may-care fantasy. The choice of mother-of-pearl shone even in the black-and-white. For some reason you had thought of your role in this as quite small – Jungkook was the tattooed one, after all – but there was a mood created here. Calm yet definitive. On the edge of rebellious.
Maybe you had been chosen for more than just being the bro hot girl.
Hm.
“Do you think we need more?” you asked, not knowing the answer.
Jungkook chewed on the left side of his lower lip, puffing his cheek cutely. A thinking face. “I don’t think so? There’s going to be mostly drawn art and finished tattoo photos on the walls. As far as I know, our full-body pictures are going to be blown up but used very sparingly. We’re just there to be pretty.”
You didn’t miss a beat. “So, you think you’re pretty.”
You saw his shoulders flinch. “T-T-That’s just what I was told,” he stammered, tongue-tied.
“It’s okay, I think you’re pretty,” you casually interrupted. “Then this is probably enough. How do you want to pose for the couple photos?”
“C-C-Couple?”
You took a second to stare at yourself for another moment and turned your head, lifting your gaze. Not trying to make it weird. Round, dark brown eyes with curls of black hair over his brows. Lips parted and quickly shutting as you made eye contact. Someone was silently telling themselves to get a grip.
Well.
You were about to get close.
“Um…”
It was already weird just standing in the frame with him. Deep breath. It would be no good to stand here like self-made scarecrows. Come on. It wasn’t like you would be forced to interact with him every day after this. Plus, you already started with a bad impression. The sooner you finished, the sooner you would be able to go home and treat this like any other day.
Right?
“What about…”
You backed up. Jungkook squeaked but you ignored it, taking his right arm and placing his hand on your left shoulder so it crossed over your body and he held you against his torso. Again, you didn’t have to look at him or the camera. You only took a moment to adjust his forearm and not think about how solid it was before turning your head to the left and pulling back your shoulders to lift your chest.
Your ass touched the front of his pants.
Ahem.
You tapped his thigh impatiently.
“Ah, r-right…”
You tried not to think about how deep his voice was or how you could feel his chest vibrate from the tops of your shoulder blades against his pecs. Nope. You heard the sound of the camera and tilted your head again, raising your chin, and did not think about how nice he smelled. Like fresh laundry detergent but not overpowering. You swept your hair back so your collarbones were bare, putting your hair between him and you.
Jungkook angled his body so he wasn’t chest-to-back anymore.
Oh.
Then you attempted not to stiffen as his arm slid across so that his elbow was above your breasts, no, pressed against them, the grip on your shoulder tightening and suddenly his bicep and forearm were pushing your tits together through your crop top.
Um.
The right side of his body pressed against your back and you felt his breath against the crown of your head, his chin resting on you, um, but still you didn’t say anything, his leg shifting forward and now his thigh was pressed to your ass and the back of your leg, UM?!, and Jungkook exhaled, slow and with a shudder.
You did not interrupt.
Stood shock still.
It didn’t so much bother you as it confirmed some things.
“Ah, s-sorry, I should have as–”
“It’s fine,” you replied automatically, not wanting to get into it, glancing at the monitor. The preview was small but even at this distance it was effective. Worth it. “Do whatever you think would give a good result. We have to try things,” you muttered, untangling yourself a little. “Let’s…”
Fuck it.
You turned around.
For a brief glimpse, you spotted Jungkook’s shocked expression, but you avoided it, planting your hands on his waist. No, that wouldn’t do. Your arms felt like they were in the way. You slid them back, over his sides and up, fanning your fingers out. Centimeters between your body and his. His right arm was now along your back, but only loosely, and with his musculature it wasn’t laying quite right if you kept this current distance between each other. You could tell from the way his upper arm was positioned against your shoulder.
You pressed to him.
Chest to chest.
Angled your head so your cheek faced his face and your eyes fixated to the side, not looking at him. But you could feel him. Feel the shallowing of his breath against your cheekbone. Feel the solidness of his body in your arms. Feel his shoulder muscles under your fingertips tense. Like you were really hugging him, except you weren’t.
Not really.
Right.
“Put your arm around me,” you said softly but firmly.
“T-This…?”
“With your thumb in my right back belt loop.”
You felt Jungkook’s entire body stiffen.
“E-Eh…?!”
Your eyes darted to the side and you glared at him from your peripheral vision, seeing beautiful expressive eyes far too close but never mind that. “Come on. It’s a tattoo and piercing shop. Provocative, remember?” You looked away again, to your right. Steeled your voice and sharpened it. You could feel the damn almonds in your left jeans front pocket. You should have put them in your bag.
For fuck’s sake.
“Do it.”
You had asked him to do it but you still weren’t prepared for his fingertips to brush the top of your ass and his palm rest against your hip. You lifted your pelvis away from him, pressing more into his torso, involuntarily closing your eyes. Too weird to stare out wide-eyed anyway.
“Just tell me when you’ve taken it.”
Seconds that felt like hours.
You could tell he was taking the photos. You felt his arm shift. Tilt. Another. His hand moved up and you managed not to shiver. Nudging your head with his nose. You followed the movement obediently. You weren’t going to make this any weirder than it already was. His touch barely on your hot skin. Held your breath.
“O… Okay.”
You moved back and you felt Jungkook also release a tense exhale. He didn’t back away from you though. You tried to think of another pose. Maybe if you just laid your hand on his shoulder as if you were about to walk past him and.
Wait.
You jerked back as Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest and yanked his white tank top up and over his head. Arms flexed, tan skin and inked patterns. You bit back the surprised sound that threatened to escape, looking away quickly and snapping your jaw tight.
“Wha–What are you doing?” you forced out as evenly as you could, snapping your head as Jungkook flung the article of clothing aside like it was goddamn litter. Um, hello? You gawked after it as it skidded across the floor, missing the table just so.
“Shit, I missed–”
You whipped your head back and Jungkook froze, as if he only now noticed you were real human being and not a prop. Now you were aimlessly standing there with a shirtless Jeon Jungkook that you had been getting closer to, but wasn’t this too close, he was too fit and attractive to…
To?
Oh, fuck.
You really hoped he hadn’t noticed your glance at his hard dark nipples and toned abs. It wasn’t exactly something you could ignore. You weren’t curious. Really. His pecs were right in front of your face. Still, you didn’t want to be seen as disrespectful or creepy.
Your jaw was slack.
On cue, an inappropriate thought popped into your head.
And you said it, because, well, you never missed an opportunity to tease.
“This is exactly how all porno vids start, Jungkook.”
Oh, come on. Not that casual tone. And why did you add his name with familiarity like that? That was so unnecessary. Now he was turning fifty shades of red. Great. None of that helped. Of course not. And you chose the crass term over adult films. Maybe you were too much of a bro. You cleared your throat and looked away, trying to break the tension with a soft chuckle.
And, of course, you both spoke at once.
“Ah, why did you…?”
“I mean, you said provocative, so,” Jungkook blurted out way too fast. “I had fasted because I thought it would be good to take off my… uh…” And now you witnessed the processing of that idea in real time. Hm, taking off your shirt for a photoshoot? Great idea. Taking it off in front of a woman you only kind of knew? Er. And in front of a woman that he…
You looked at him.
Jungkook immediately shut up.
You could see he was mildly regretting yeeting his tank top so far.
This couldn’t end if you didn’t get a grip. So, you got a grip and stepped up, half of your body covering his chest, your left side to his left side. You saw him stiffen, but you ignored it, looking straight ahead to the white paper backdrop behind him. Told yourself to breathe. Then you turned your head and you were staring at Jungkook’s left ear. He had three earrings on this side, but they were plainer compared to the five thicker huggies on his left. He stood shock-still, unsure of what to do even though this was his idea.
“Turn your arm so it shows the tiger lily.”
His head jerked and suddenly Jungkook was looking back at you.
You were so close that you could see his moles clearly, especially the one underneath his soft parted lips.
“You… You noticed the tiger lily?”
It was on the inside of his forearm. You had seen the vibrant orange under your lashes and immediately recognized the distinctive shape. You stared into those chocolate irises, barely moving your lips.
“You like them?” you whispered.
Your breath and his breath, mixing.
“It’s… It’s my birth flower…” Jungkook mumbled, dream-like.
He was both a striking and adorable man.
You smiled.
Not breaking eye contact.
“Take the photo.”
A second of hesitation.
“Ah, r-right.”
But Jungkok didn’t look away.
You felt his left hand by the bulge in your jeans pocket. Those damn almonds. Felt him press the button and wondered why the fuck you were still carrying deez nuts, but those thoughts came and went, not dawdling because you were under Jungkook’s gaze. Not overbearing, not trying to feel you out, but, rather, relaxing as you watched him, curious. That was the word.
Curious.
You leaned in closer, pressing your hip to his.
These goddamn almonds.
Placed your fingertips on his collarbone, casting shadows over his neck and jaw.
His chin tilted down, and now your lashes were lowering and so were his. Heavy with a mood. Acting. Just acting, you reminded yourself. Your brow barely touched his. Nearly nose-to-nose. You felt his hand shift a little, but at this point that was his job to press the button and your job to pretend like this chemistry was natural. His scent really was lovely. His sheets must smell just like him. Must be nice to lay in them and wake up with him beside you.
You whispered into the still air between you and him.
“I don’t really like this side of my face,” you murmured.
Those dark eyes flickered to yours.
“Looks good to me,” Jungkook said delicately.
Your fingertips slipped over the curve of his muscle.
He gasped under you and he tried to hide it, letting his eyelids slide shut. He couldn’t see you now. Couldn’t see you tilt your head just a little more. The faintest movement. His hair brushed against your forehead and temples. The distance between your lips and his was so narrow that you could feel the metal of the silver rings as you spoke once more.
“You can’t hide from me just because you close your eyes.”
A moment of closed lids.
Then.
Those brown irises rising beneath coy lashes.
A second.
You took a step back, mid-smile.
Jungkook’s right hand shot out and gripped your waist, pulling you back.
It happened all at once. The wispy exhale leaving your lungs. The warmth of his touch and strength of his tug making you collide with his body. Your hand stopping yourself, pressed against his sternum, molding to the curves. Your face suddenly centimeters from his, a soft gasp falling from your lips, and those round brown eyes went wide as if he only now realized that actions have consequences, as if this wasn’t the expected result, as if his bold move wouldn’t be met by a bolder one.
The movement had been so fast that strands of his black hair were still falling back onto his forehead.
You angled your head and kissed him.
Not the quick flitting peck that toyed with emotions but the press-to-heart, inhale-and-caress kiss, your hand sliding down, the pad of your middle finger stopping on his nipple. Not moving it, but he shivered against your touch, muffled whine under your lips, and your other hand grazed his hip, fingers dancing along the waistband of his jeans. No hesitation. Mature and sensual, his hair against your temples, yours whisking over his arm, your crotch to his hip.
You moved your left thigh forward.
Jungkook yelped into your mouth and drew back, his cheeks flushing pink.
Your hand slid across his bare back and pulled him back against you. You and him now entangled in a ying-yang embrace, no one able to escape. Traced a circle around his hard nipple and you could feel the trembling against your chest, hear the sharp inhale, watch him bite back a whimper. Your lips and breath followed his jaw as you spoke.
“Now, where do you think you’re going?”
His hand on your waist tightened.
You raised an eyebrow to his stunned expression that seemed more like a cover-up than it was honest. Not a cover-up for ill intentions, no. He was trying to hide something else. Excitement. Ah, that wasn’t it either. You stared into those expressive eyes. Read him like a book. He was…
You smiled.
Pressed your thigh against the hard bulge between his legs.
Jeon Jungkook was horny.
“I…” He completely paused with his mouth open. You waited, dancing your nails over his spine. “I was… I was going to…” His face was getting redder. He was still clutching you, his expression telling you that he couldn’t believe that you had taken that last moment from him. You ticked your head.
Challengingly.
“Go on then. Kiss me like you mean it.”
You wouldn’t have held it against him if he didn’t. Wouldn’t have been salty about it. You could be wrong, after all. Could be, but weren’t, because Jungkook’s brows furrowed, a spark of annoyance flaring through his expression. Flint to flame. You tilted your head back. Making him reach for it.
A sliding clatter.
Your head whipped to follow the sound. The small camera remote shot behind your bodies, hitting the backdrop, stark black against white, and then you felt strong fingers slide into your hair, turning you back to a playful smirk adorned with two silver lip rings.
Jungkook kissed you.
A little bit of desperation, a lot of defiance, and the electric taste of uncertainty, the fear of coming on too strong, but you did him one better, rolling your body into his and pressing back to him. Breathing in his scent, running your fingertips over his skin. Hooking two fingers on his belt loop and pulling him closer even though he couldn’t be any physically closer. It wasn’t enough. The tip of your tongue flitting between his lips, gently asking for more.
His sweet gasp addictive, saturated with the wind of the butterflies in his heart.
You ran your thumb along the top of the waistband, stroking his hot skin, and slipped your tongue into his mouth. His tongue brushed up against yours, sending a delicious wave of shivers through your chest, and you exhaled into his throat, low and slow, tasting him, savoring his quivering whimper, trapped in the heat under bright lights and electric tension. His left hand cupped your head, deepening the kiss, more, another, tongue against tongue, body against body, pulse beating in harmony.
You broke the kiss, but only to breathe and cross your arms.
Pulled up, inside out, stripping off your top and casting it out of the way, your hands already taking Jungkook’s wrists before it hit the ground. He stared down, wide-eyed, sputtering, and you pressed his palms to your sides, shivering at the contact of another. Guided him up, up, gliding your fingers over his and closing them around your breasts.
Jungkook gawked at you, jaw completely slack.
You smirked. “Wanna take a photo like this?”
His eyes narrowed. A touch possessive. It made your smirk grow.
“Fuck no.”
Your chuckle was cut off by another one of his kisses, respectively hard and soft from his piercings and his lips, insistent and heated. His hands squeezing, and you sighed approvingly, letting go so he could explore, running his fingers over your hard nipples. Moaning with you, kiss after kiss, breaking the chain to look down and awe at the way his hands framed your breasts, following the curve, pushing your large nipples with his index fingers, and he groaned, his eyes hazy, kissing you again, harder, hips to hips, that hard bulge fitting between the space of your thighs. Rolling his body into yours, chasing your lips despite you not moving away. Pleas hidden in his thin breath. You hooked a leg around his thigh and you saw his eyelashes flutter, moaning into your mouth, needy and wanting.
“What’s wrong?” you purred.
Grinded against him, lightly thrusting, way past suggestion at this point, stings of pleasure racing through you as his fingers flicked at your nipples, those brown irises glassy and unfocused, struggling to get his bearings.
“O-Oh… fuck…”
You fanned your fingers over his sides, sliding down his shapely back, your touch slipping under the top of his jeans.
“Don’t you wish?”
A shadow of confusion, but you simply rocked his hips into yours, digging your nails into the top of his ass and making him gasp, pressing up against you. Your lips hovering over that trembling mole under his lips, placing a single chaste kiss on his skin.
Airy chuckle.
“I didn’t plan to fuck you, so I didn’t bring protection or anything,” you explained, bouncing your breasts into his muscular chest. “I’m sorry but I can’t take that risk just because you’re cute and I like the way you taste.”
His defeated whine was too delicious to resist.
“But.”
You wanted to feel this heat a little more. Stare into those eyes a little longer. Too fast, other people would say. Fuck off, you would say. Those large brown eyes, that dreamy curious expression, that racing feeling from two electric hearts entangled with lustful friction down below, and you couldn’t ignore it any longer.
“I have some ideas of things we can do.”
You led him back, making him lean against the rectangular pedestal.
“Poses, if you will.”
The way Jungkook smiled make the world sparkle with mirth.
“You cool with that?” you asked, not wanting to continue if there was no desire. His erection threatened to rip his damn jeans, and yet you wanted to hear him say it. Took his hands from your chest and placed them behind him, helping him catch the corners so he didn’t topple over. Placed your hands over his, stroking his knuckles. You lifted your head and Jungkook caught your gaze.
Biting the side of his lower lip and wiggling his eyebrows playfully.
“I’m cool with you.”
Couldn’t help but smirk, leaning in. Lips and tongue and the slow fuck of his soft mouth, devouring his whines as you traced his body lines. His thighs. His sides. Down the center of his chest, your fingertips grazing, your lips leaving his and feathering down his neck. The tremble of his pecs now under your kisses, even the raging beat of his heart, his shallow breath skipping as your tongue tasted him, intoxicated by his scent and the way his body followed your every touch, wordlessly begging for more.
His moan was low and throaty, tapering to a whimper as you unbuttoned his jeans.
Unzipped them, breathing hot over his clothed section, pressing your lips to the strained fabric.
“P-Please…”
Even here, he smelled intentionally clean. Pure. Physically, anyway. Mentally, you doubted it, mostly because Jungkook was practically humping your face in impatience as you wiggled the top of his jeans down his tense thighs.
“Please… anything you want… please, please, do it…”
You pushed his black boxer briefs down.
Washing a burning hot exhale over taut skin and straining veins, making sure to look up at him to see Jungkook checking to see if you were satisfied with what you discovered, then immediately turning red when you caught him, tucking his chin against his shoulder to avoid your gaze. Black hair falling over his eyes. Biting his lip hard, trying to keep his cool.
You licked the dark red head expectantly.
His hips bucked. Gasp torn from his lips. The strong taste spread over your tongue, pre-cum and lust, and you cocked an eyebrow as Jungkook carefully ticked his head back, looking down at you from his peripheral vision, the left side of his lower lip caught between his teeth. He was a sizeable length and girth. Nothing you couldn’t handle and dismantle.
You closed your lips around the swollen head and teased the slit.
“Nrgh…hah…”
Tongue swirling, taking him deeper. Slow, wet, running wet muscle up and down from tip to base, rubbing that thin skin just under the head with persistent pressure and then all the way down to flick out against his balls. Hard then soft. Fuck. That prickling sensation sliding down your back was not a good sign. Molding your tongue to his cock, taking him deep, digging your own grave in the way that everyone hoped for when touching someone for the first time.
The taste, the scent, the lust.
The earnestness of him trying to hold himself back, wanting to succumb to your tight mouth and persistent desire rather than heedlessly chase his own pleasure. Trusting you and trusting that you could get him there.
Fuck.
You wanted to hiss, have some common sense, but your mouth was full of his dick so that wasn’t happening.
“You’re so hot, oh, fuck… fuck…”
Glanced up and saw Jungkook was staring down at you, your face, your tits, your knees planted down firmly. Your hands were on his thighs, keeping him steady as you took him in your mouth, deep to hit your throat and squeeze around the head, up across the roof of your mouth with your tongue rubbing against the underside, your lips catching at the base of the tip and brushing against the throbbing skin, his moan hitching, so sexy, so dreamy, so sublime in its rawness, unfiltered and untainted by expectation.
Well.
You hadn’t expected to suck off Jeon Jungkook in the middle of the photoshoot either.
Life finds a way.
There wasn’t room or time to laugh at your inappropriate thoughts so you went back to focusing on keeping that pressure, that building pace, pulling your shoulders back and driving them forward to diffuse the impact of the force you were exerting. Close, hearing it in his rough voice. Seeing his head tilting back, black hair and tan skin glimmering with sweat. His toned chest flexed, his shoulders strained, and suddenly you realized that it was your name in that needy, desperate tone. Your name falling out of shaking lips, followed by so good, fuck, you’re so good. Your name melting into his moan, filling his lungs, each breath drenched with potent, carnal desire. You were used to that.
What you weren’t used to was this sudden unbearable craving to hear Jungkook say it again.
And again.
Him, specifically.
Fuck.
He came with a groan, his head falling so far back that you could barely see his face, his hips thrusting up and your lips closing in. Thick spurts, messy spasms, squishing saliva and cum into the back of your throat. Strong and surprisingly delicious. An obvious tingle dispersing up the insides of your spread thighs, the pulse of his shuddering length mirroring your lower body.
Want me more.
Licking all around, swallowing, gripping his shaking hips so he couldn’t escape you, encouraged by his delicate but still compliant whimpers. There was an undertone here. How long? How long had he felt these sparks? How long had he dreamed for them to become fire? Was it after your bodies had touched or after you walked in and took off your jacket?
Before that?
You pulled back, your tongue lingering, swirling around his stiff, twitching length.
Those glassy brown eyes would tell you anything right now.
“I don’t want to stop here,” you murmured, staring into the windows of his soul.
“Please, d-don’t…” Breathless, panting, erotic. “I–”
Your fingers wrapped around his girth and pumped him.
“A-Ah!”
Calmly leaned in and curled your tongue around his balls, scooping them into your mouth, all while twisting your hand. Base to tip, creating a tight seal with the residual saliva. He wasn’t prepared. You could visibly watch the ecstasy ripple up from his core to his shocked expression, his eyes rolling back and his head falling, flushed lips quivering, hardly breathing as you held both with his balls with your lips and danced your tongue over them. Rapid strokes. Wet slick. Switching from one and then the other, humming to provide a strumming vibration. Changing the direction of your tongue and the pressure of your lips before switching again, from left to right, all the while keeping a firm, steady pace on his cock.
“Oh, s-shit, what, a-aaah… Your m-mouth is insane, wha…?”
Chasing a feeling.
His high and maybe it could be your pride, your ego, whatever. Sin. The immense satisfaction of watching someone unravel. Jungkook made it beautiful, surreal with his deep but clear voice, dreamy with his hard body lines and soft trembling against you, trying so hard to be so good and not disturb your hard work so he could get the most out of it.
So he could savor your desire for him.
So he could bask in it.
So he could want it more.
“I-I, ah, I’m gonna cum again, please, please, please let me cum in your mouth, ple–”
The fuck was Jeon Jungkook so stupid hot for?
The slight irritation must have shown on your face and it did nothing to stop him, his head snapping back and suddenly he was burning under your gaze. You popped your mouth off and left a trail of spit down his legs, sliding your tongue out to hover under the dark purple-red head of his throbbing cock, pushing him to the edge, hard, fast, racing, I’m so close, you’re so sexy, oh, fuck, that racing prickling down your spine and a heady haze invading all your thoughts, the kind of haze that made you forget common sense, forget the earlier events of the day, and forget even the previous apprehension of being so close to someone you didn’t know too well.
Now you knew a lot.
Heh.
He could see it and you could feel it, the warm streak streaming across your tongue, another splattering before you pressed the flinching head to your mouth, hearing his ragged moan and hiking whimpers, oversensitive and overstimulated and willfully drowning in it, feels so fucking good, your lips are so soft, a-ah, swallowing and grazing your lips over him, faint but so wet, sucking off your saliva and replacing the wetness with kisses, making his body twist and writhe, unable to take it all but wanting to, needing to so damn bad that he thrust into your face, smearing your cheek with leaking cum and spit.
Jungkook moaned so fucking loud that you swore security was about to walk into the rented studio space and catch you pinning him down.
“Hey, hey,” you chided, crawling back up his body, gripping his shoulders. “Don’t lose your mind–”
His lips collided with yours and silenced your words, lip piercings electrifying the contact, kissing you again and again, surely tasting himself but you had no time to warn or complain, suddenly feeling hurried hands fumbling with your jeans, slipping, stumbling, too much haste and too much lust, mumbling against your lips.
“Stop me, stop me if you don’t want it,” he was saying and there was no need, but you appreciated him saying it all the same, fighting with his grasp to undo the fastenings yourself, and then his fingertips found your hot skin. You sucked in a tight breath. Jeans heavy enough to fall down your thighs, and then two fingers hooking on each side of your barely-there, bikini-cut black panties, a second and then gone, now shivering at the rush of cool air on your damp heat.
The moment before he touched you.
Your gaze caught his under lashes, and his eyes shifted back up to you, his lips brushing against yours.
“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone this fast and this bad,” he gasped.
Honestly, you couldn’t really think about anyone else but Jeon Jungkook right now.
“Me neither.”
You grabbed his right hand and shoved two of his fingers into your pussy.
Middle and ring finger, gasping at the full feeling and the slick ease, pushing him up to his knuckles right away. The response was immediate. His eyes widening, your inner walls closing in around them, your juices dripping onto the silver ring on his index finger, hoping he was okay with that. Thankfully, it was a plain band so there wasn’t much irritating friction when you began to roll your hips into his hand. He thrust upwards, shooting a wave of pleasure through you, and you snapped your head up, exhale laced with the sting of hunger.
“S-Sorry, I got excit–”
You grabbed his head and shut him up, driving his fingers into you to indicate the deep and intense pace you desired before diving into his lips, catching his tongue and sucking on it. You had expected him to be strong and he did not disappoint. It was a rough ride and you rode it with ease, with wild greed, with commitment of your full body, hips and back and teasing his tongue, one hand tangled in his hair and the other gripping his hard forearm just in case you needed to tell him to adjust or stop.
His muscle was like iron.
You glanced down, seeing ink shadowed by your vicious grip. He must work out. Had to with this amount of control and how hard he was flexing right now. Looked back up and Jungkook was watching you, curious of your attention shift, and then you felt his forearm pulse.
Teasing you.
A flash of mischief in those dark brown orbs.
You narrowed your eyes and nipped at his lower lip.
Still felt him smirk though.
Punk.
But there was no time, inhaling sharply as you came in violent pulses, your pussy molding around his fingers and squeezing tightly. Your slick juices sticking to the inside of your thighs despite his hand being there, your skin tingling hot even with the aggressive air conditioning, your lips pressing into his. Shuddering, eyes closing, heartbeat pounding in your throat, alive.
Fuck.
“F… Fuck…”
Jungkook didn’t scold you about your unladylike language, at least.
“Can I…?”
He asked you something but the afterglow was leaving you lust-drunk, simply agreeing and turning around. His wet fingers trailed over your hip, your thigh, and then back to where they had been between your legs. His other hand on your lower abdomen, pressing your ass back and you finally understood, half-smiling when you felt his semi-hard cock sliding between the dip in your ass. His whimpering gasp, letting go of your torso to adjust himself behind you. Now the wet head was tucked in the space just under your tailbone. An obscene scene, his two fingers sliding back into your pussy, ah, so full, and his hand returned to your chest, pinching your nipples. His forehead hit your shoulder, forcing you to arch your back.
His moan heated your shoulder blades, desperation pitching as he rolled his hips into your ass.
“F-Feels so good, your skin is so soft–”
You reached back and pushed the sides of your ass together, creating a deeper channel.
“A-Ah, oh, fuck, fuuuuuuuck…”
You were about to say something but then you realized the camera was still on.
The remote was meters away so no photos were being taken. The monitor was still on though, and you could clearly see yourself with Jungkook’s left hand all over your breasts, your hard nipples pinched and tugged at, his tattooed forearm over your lower belly and crotch while you held your ass in position for his hardening cock to rut behind you.
Your hair was a gotten mess, leaving your face in tangled shadow.
The top of his black hair was balanced on your shoulder.
His forehead was pretty damn sweaty but you didn’t even care.
His hand between your legs slipping, the two fingers now atop your swollen clit, rubbing softly, harder, your voice hoarse with exertion, and he did exactly as you asked, building up the pace, your nipples stiffening even more at his actions and causing sparks to dance in your blood, your breath shallowing, falling into it, letting go, your hair tumbling back onto his shoulder and closing your eyes, diving into the pleasure, wave after wave, feeling him harden against you, his strong thighs behind yours, somehow holding you up through sheer willpower.
You gasped his name, delicate and breathless, and Jungkook moaned behind you.
Slick becoming slicker, the scent of sweet-sour lust saturating the air, sticking to the insides of your thighs.
Should have brought a damn condom.
His hand left your tingling chest and you felt the head of his cock throb, smearing even more pre-cum between your ass. The aftershocks of orgasm stung through you, leaving you faint and woozy. He kept rubbing against your skin, rock-hard, whimpering, mumbling under his ragged breath.
It took you a moment to realize he was talking to you.
“Can I… Can I cum on your ass? Please? Please, I…”
Was it possible to fall in love with someone for being an insatiable horndog?
You had to laugh. It sounded more like an airless wheeze. Nice. If that didn’t lock him down, you next words had to be the ticket.
“Are you a freak?”
You turned around to face him and Jungkook shrugged, chewing on his lower lip.
“I am now?” he admitted in uncertain question.
You grinned. “Lucky you, ‘cause so am I.”
Then you pointed to the active monitor to remind him that the camera was, in fact, still on, enjoying every second of his face turning shades of deeper and deeper pink with his hand still around his hard dick. He had such adorable wide-eyed shock. You yanked him up, both of you still entangled with your pants down your shins, and yet it was just a fun obstacle at the time (although much later you would wonder why you hadn’t simply kicked them off). Shuffled to switch places, balancing your lower abdomen and crotch on the top of the rectangular pedestal, bending over with your ass in the air.
This was probably the best action this studio was getting in its entire existence.
Blessed, truly.
You turned your head to make sure you were in frame, not putting much pressure but just enough to not fall over, arching your back to have your breasts look their best, exposing their full perky shape, reaching back to spread your pussy lips for Jungkook to look at as he jacked off.
You were, as they say, a generous sex goddess.
“W-Woah!”
You smirked as his attention was completely diverted from the equipment, forgetting to be embarrassed, his jaw dropping as you flexed your opening, letting out a shaky breath as you heard the wetness echo in the silence. Tightening your core, releasing, and you could see his grip tense, moving, his lashes lowering. The pleasure was palpable from the heavy scent of sex to the sound of hand on taut skin. Jungkook was standing slightly beside your legs, every so often grazing the dripping, tender head to the top of your ass, moaning wantonly at the contact. You could clearly see the rapid movement of his arm, could sense the speed and power and desperation, fiercely chasing orgasm with his eyes roaming over your back, ass, pussy, back up to the monitor to stare at your obviously hard nipples, and if someone walked in right now you would most certainly snarl at them to wait for Jungkook to finish.
They would probably be too shell-shocked at this literal porno-vid-to-real-life to even say anything but never mind that.
You stiffened reflexively as you felt his searching fingers glide over your slit. Checked and his eyes were rolling back, groaning as he felt your muscle control, mumbling something about wanting to put his cock in your pussy so bad, not right now, I can’t, I can’t, I w-wouldn’t last, a-ah, I have to be good for you, shivers racing through your body at the suggestion, a craving created, and you gave in, sighing dreamily, his finger circling your sensitive clit, the pulse thudding under his touch, and you moaned for him, asking for it.
Which was how you ended up orgasming again with Jungkook stroking your clit and shooting out a stream of hot cum over your ass, pitching forward and smearing it up your back.
Dripping all over you.
“D-Don’t stop…” you gasped out.
Not shying away from the overwhelm and instead aching for it.
His fingers pumped in and out of your wet tightness, your walls spasming at the extended pleasure, barely registering him lifting himself up so he didn’t crush you into the pedestal, rocking your hips back so he struck deeper, harder, and then you yelped, hazy vision clearing suddenly at the feeling of hot tongue to your back.
The surprise made you freeze as you spotted Jungkook in the monitor.
His dark eyes followed yours as he licked his cum off your ass, devious mouth trailing kisses.
Well.
Shit.
An intense high bolted through you and you gasped, knees buckling, pussy clenching around his fingers and throwing your head back, drawn-out moan bursting out of your lungs, clutching the corners for balance and perhaps just to orient to reality, the impossibility and sinfulness of the situation blossoming into a vicious orgasm that crawled up your legs, your arms, chewing throughout your lungs, mounting pleasure as Jungkook pulled a finger out to press against your clit.
He must have felt it.
His warm moan heating your lower back, the delicate pad of his fingertip sensing the brutality of the throbs ransacking you. Even you were witness, the camera monitor revealing everything, seeing the tendons of your neck pop and your collarbones prominent. Lashes low, pink tongue sliding out of your flushed lips, the memory of his unique kiss lingering and making you dream of him already.
You had run out of witty things to say.
Thoughts in general currently obsolete.
“H-Hah…”
Your hands slid down, still shaking from the fallout of the afterglow.
“L-Let me… Let me go to the bathroom and get you something to c-clean up,” Jungkook panted, attempting to get to his feet very unsteadily. You made a noise of agreement, breathing hard although not very loudly, pushing your hair back. It was doomed. You were hunched over and the tousled wave simply fell back, but you let it be because at the moment post-nut clarity was setting in.
Bro.
You just fucked Jeon Jungkook in the middle of the photoshoot.
Pushing off, standing on legs that had the structural integrity of soft tofu, wondering why you also had brains of soft tofu as well. For fuck’s sake. What happened to getting a grip? You yanked at your jeans, not quite pulling them all the way up yet. How old were you now? Surely true adults aren’t this deranged. Surely over the years you would have learned to not fuck a guy you barely knew. And completely sober!
Your stomach growled.
The hunger was not only sexual, it seemed.
Your hand hit the left pocket of your jeans. The crunch of plastic. You frowned, reaching in and pulling out a small package of almonds. You stared at it. Wow. Seriously. The mascot on the almonds looked way too jovial for how disheveled you were right now. You stomach clawed at your insides upon seeing the food.
Fuck it.
Jungkook came back to you holding the handful of almonds and chomping away.
The plastic was on the ground. Actual litter. You would pick it up later. Eat first. He was still shirtless. You wondered if he ran into anyone. You found that you didn’t really care as long as he only thought about you. Seemed like he did, because he skidded to a stop, looking terribly concerned.
You popped another almond in your mouth.
“Uh…”
Shit, you really liked him.
His brows knitted together. “I got some tissues. And paper towels, in case your back…”
You took the tissues and wiped between your legs, still holding the unsalted nuts with your left hand. “I probably need a shower. No one is gonna know you came on me anyway.” Chew, chew. Damn, you super liked him. Shit. Jungkook hovered next to you, not wanting to leave. You usually hated that but not with him. Oh, no. You pretended that you weren’t going to give up all responsibilities to fuck him seven days a week even though you barely knew him. Well, you knew what he was like in bed.
Really fuckin’ good.
Heh.
Technically not in a bed yet, but, eh, semantics.
“I’m really hungry,” you remarked.
“Me too,” Jungkook nodded, but he was still stuck to you, as close as he could be without clinging onto you. Trying to be cool about it. You glanced at him and he looked away quickly, feigning like he hadn’t been staring. Your jeans weren’t buttoned, but they were hanging off your hips. Ah, that explained it. You hadn’t handed him the wad of used tissues despite him clearly showing that he would help you with that gladly.
You fisted the rest of the almonds.
No, not actually.
Fine, you dumped the remainder into your mouth. Chewed thoughtfully. “I have a question and I want a truthful answer,” you mused, directing your gaze at him. Jungkook peeked back through his curls of mostly dry black hair. Must have wiped off his sweat. “Did you plan this?”
He shook his head very quickly and straightforwardly. “No, I didn’t. I swear.”
You believed him. “Never thought about it?”
His hesitation was glaringly obvious.
“Um…”
You waited.
“Y-Yeah… but it was hard to approach you… and I didn’t even think you remembered me.”
You frowned. “Of course, I remember you. I’ve seen you often. You’re not easy to miss.”
His ears were bright red. “O… Oh…”
You thought about it. There weren’t many opportunities for Jeon Jungkook and you to be alone. Then… The cheerful trickster face of the tattoo artist popped into your head.
You frowned slightly. “Did he plan this?”
The possibility seemed to have dawned on Jungkook. He looked surprised and then confused. “I never said… was it that night, when we were drinking at four in the morning…?” His dark brows furrowed. “I don’t remember what happened that night…”
You stared at him.
He slowly slipped from his thoughts and looked back at you, somewhat terrified at your intensity.
You told him exactly what you thought.
“You’re an idiot.”
He sputtered. “H-Hey!”
You shrugged. “Still wanna fuck you though. With condoms. Wanna come back to mine?”
“W-Wait…what?”
“Actually, we should grab something to eat first because I can’t live off only almonds. I’ll die.”
It wasn’t until you were fully dressed and Jungkook was yanking his tank top back on did you look more closely at the monitor screen. After clean up and kisses and light teasing (much to Jungkook’s dismay but he better get used to it if he wanted to be around you), you peered at the narrow column of previews on the side, tilting your head at the last one taken.
Uh.
“Jungkook?”
He was scrambling around behind you, snatching something off the ground. Oh, right, the camera remote he threw. “Huh? Ah!” You heard a thud and swearing. Must have run into the pedestal in his haste to get to you. You ignored his chaotic grumbling and used the mouse to click on the preview, expanding it.
Oh, you know.
Just you and Jeon Jungkook kissing for the first time in high definition.
You raised your eyebrows as he bounded up behind you, what, what, what, then skidding to a dead stop, centimeters from your crouched form. You stuck your tongue in your cheek. He must have pressed the button when it happened.
“Accident?”
Turned your head to look at him.
Those big peepers shifted awkwardly.
You blinked again, agonizingly slow.
“Uh… Yeah…?” he cautiously answered.
Believable.
Not.
You straightened and crossed your arms, giving him a look. Thoroughly intimidating. Jungkook blinked very fast and looked like he was trying not to enjoy it, which did not help you in maintaining the front. This fucking little shit. Or, rather, tall and muscular – never mind. You clicked your tongue and ticked your head to the screen.
“What were you gonna do with it? Frame it?”
He shrugged veeeery slowly. Raising his hands with his shrug as he replied.
“Maaaaaaaybe?”
You tried not to snort in laughter. It was very difficult. Sigh. He was so freaking annoying. And what was worse was that you liked it. Fuck. Maybe you hit delirium. Damn almonds. You wouldn’t have been so weak for Jeon Jungkook if it wasn’t for those fuckin’ almonds creating your aggravating morning.
Hm.
That had to have been the fattest lie you have ever told yourself.
“Can you just have a meal with me so I don’t have to tell everyone the reason we’re dating is because we fucked during the photoshoot?”
He started speaking very fast and stumbling on his words, Busan satoori slipping out. “Oh! We’re dating? Yes! I mean… yes, please! Wait… are we going to your place too, I mean, I would like to but I understa–”
Well.
You should remember you got yourself into this, bro.
--
masterpost
1K notes · View notes
junosswans · 5 months
Text
FMA sketches by Ace Attorney's character designer, Iwamoto Tatsuro
For the past week, Iwamoto-san has been posting sketches of FMA characters on his twitter as a part of his daily sketching challenge and they are absolutely BEAUTIFUL.
I really want to share his art over here and also translate his posts for you all because I think his commentaries are quite insightful for people who are interested in character design!
[Those who know their AA lore would recognize him as who voiced Edgeworth (Mitsurugi) in the games :3]
Anyways, below are his FMA sketches he's shared on twitter so far! (Contains: Ed, Hughes, Kimblee, Mustang, Breda) You can click on the dates to see their original post. I will add to this post if he shares any more sketches, it seems that he has been on an FMA roll xD
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25/11/2023
If you draw your favourite things out you will know them better! So, this is Edward Elric from #FullmetalAlchemist.
Even if you have decided on the pose you want to draw, it is better to sketch out these three first:
the moment before the pose is struck
the pose itself
the moment after the pose is struck
then decide which image works better for your art. I learned this from a really great senior of mine, and it is very solid advice.
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29/11/2023 (Translator's note: I decided to move this one to the top because it is my favourite. No I don't accept criticism.)
I have been drawing Ed's automail again.
I like it when the machine part has a distinctly different silhouette compared to the human body, so I added some original ideas to the design.
What design should I draw next? Perhaps I should draw the military uniform?
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# (combined two posts because they’re the progression of the same piece.) #
26/11/2023
Again, it is the time of "drawing your favourite things to know them better!"
It feels so good to draw such great characters...
27/11/2023
My Photoshop has been crashing for mysterious reasons the whole morning, and I tried to troubleshoot in the afternoon and it was a PAIN. Computers are really difficuuuuuuuult--
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28/11/2023
Iwamoto-style drawing Masterclass: Bonus!
It is the "Give the leather and metal items a bit of flare/shine to immediately make the drawing look more complete"-jutsu!
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30/11/2023
I wanted the clothes to give off an oversized, loose impression.
Canon Hughes didn't seem to be wearing a shirt underneath... hmm.
03/12/2023
I am beginning to understand the structure of the military uniform better...
Realising the butt flap/cape didn’t actually connect to the upper jacket is a shocker to me.
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03/12/2023
A continuation of yesterday's sketch
...or so I thought, until I realized how King Bradley and Kimblee during the Ishval war had a different overcoat design, in which they actually wore a single long coat instead of a separated upper and bottom set.
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04/12/2023
When his clothes were unbuttoned, there was something that looked like an additional button on his right chest... I wonder if it could be fastened from the back?
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(Translator's note: sorry, I have no idea what button he's referring to here lol)
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05/12/2023
I like how each character's personality was expressed through the way they dress. Contrary to his appearance, this person was very intelligent, which makes him such a great character.
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915 notes · View notes
lanadelnegan · 20 days
Text
Ghost - Part 2
Negan x Glenn’sSister!Reader
Part 1 here
smut will be in part 3, don't worry :)
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“Y/n!” Maggie practically tackled me as soon as I walked through the gates, followed by the others. 
“The hell you been?” Daryl grunted with an angry expression, refusing to hug me. 
“He’s been out looking for you everyday since you left.” Maggie clarified. 
I pushed him playfully as I walked by. “You knew I’d be back, I told you I didn’t want to be found.” 
After all the hellos and welcome backs, I finally made it back to my house, thrilled to be alone again. That was too much. 
While unpacking my things along with some of the items I stole from the cabin, I noticed my picture of me and Glenn was missing. No, no, no. Please tell me I didn’t leave it. It was the only thing I had left of him. 
A knock on my door distracted me and I went to answer, finding Rick on the other side. 
“Hey, heard you were back. Just wanted to come say hi.” 
“Hey, its good to be home.”
“Listen, a lots happened since you left. You need to know about the Saviors. They’ve been here a few times already. They’re scheduled to return tomorrow.” Rick’s hand rested on his hips as he looked down. “I thought you’d wanna know.” 
I forced a smile. “Thanks for the heads up.”
I closed the door and exhaled a breath. It’s a good thing they’re coming tomorrow. I need to meet this asshole and learn his ways. Learn how to destroy him and what makes him weak. 
I settled back in, had some dinner, and decided to read some of my book. When I opened the page, the corner was dog-eared and at a place I didn’t remember reading. 
Oh my god. I have never in my life dog-eared a page…..
Should I be relieved that I’m not crazy? Or sad that my mystery man left without saying goodbye? It doesn’t matter. I reminded myself and went upstairs to go to bed. Stopping in the doorway, my jaw dropped at the empty space where my bed used to be. Not even a pillow left behind. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. 
Maybe I’ll kill them all. Not just Negan. Fucking pricks. 
I slept on the couch downstairs. Luckily I still had that left. I woke in the morning to the sound of a loud, obnoxious voice outside. It sounded familiar. I didn’t bother changing out of my sleep clothes or brushing my hair before heading outside. I couldn’t let them think  I was scared or hiding. If my plan was going to work, I needed to be assertive. 
I quickly joined the others, who were standing around Rick and that’s when I saw him. Negan. His back was turned to me, but I knew it was him because a baseball bat rested on his shoulder. He was wearing a leather jacket, and his hair was black, slicked back, and…. Oh god. 
That can’t be… 
I suddenly felt sick, like I could faint any moment. 
“Reeelax, Prick. We’ll be in and out in no time.” He patted Rick’s shoulder before waving a finger in a circular motion and signaling his men to start their routine intrusion. Negan whistled, spinning on his heels before instantly locking eyes with me. His arrogant smirk faded into regret the moment he saw me. I turned away, quickly walking back to my house.
“Shit, wait.” i heard him call from behind me.
I ignored him and made it all the way to my porch before his hand grabbed my wrist and spun me around. 
“Baby, please. Listen.” 
“I am not your Baby. What the hell is wrong with you?!” I said through my teeth, jerking out of his grip. 
“Please, just let me explain.”
“And if I don’t? You’ll just forcefully break into my house anyway! So sure! Come on in.” I spit out furiously as Negan followed me into my house. Two of his men were already inside, lifting my couch. 
My hands flew up. “Oh, great.” 
“Put it down.” Negan ordered his men who gave him a funny look in return. “Are you deaf or fucking stupid? Put. It. Down. This house is off limits.”
“Yes sir.” They obeyed, setting my couch back down and awkwardly left. Negan and I stood in silence for a moment before he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a picture. It was the one of me and my brother and I felt my throat closing. 
“When you fell asleep that night, I carried you to bed and found this on your nightstand. I knew you looked familiar, but once I realized..” He paused, looking up at you. “..I felt so guilty. So I left. And I haven’t stopped thinking about you once. Baby, I am so sorr-”
I laughed loudly, cutting his sentence off. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes so I looked up at the ceiling to hold them in. "You cannot be fucking serious right now. You murdered my brother, in the worst way possible, and then you have the nerve to give me a half ass apology?!” I scoffed, shaking my head. 
He set the picture on the end table and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Alright, what’s it gonna take for you to forgive me? You want me to get down on my knees and beg?” He walked closer, towering over me. 
“Yes, actually.” 
His smile widened as he looked back and forth between my eyes, but I remained serious. He shook his head in disbelief, but finally gave in. Leaning his bat against the back of the couch, he kneeled in front of me. 
“I’m so sorry, baby. Please, forgive me.”
"Let me bash your head in. Then I'll consider it."
An uncomfortable silence filled the room and he nodded towards his bat. 
"Fine, go ahead." He whispered.
"Wh-what?"
"Go ahead, doll. Bash my brains out, if that’ll make you feel better." 
I walked over to the bat hesitantly, not taking my eyes off of him. When I stood in front of him again, I looked down at the bat in my hands - the same one that killed Glenn. My tears spilled over the wood and I dropped it like it burned my skin. 
My knees buckled beneath me before Negan caught me, pulling me close to him and adjusting us so that he was holding me in his lap. I sobbed into his chest as he held me tightly, stroking my hair while his chin rested against the top of my head.
"Goddamn it, doll. I am so fucking sorry. I can’t say it enough. I wish I could bring him back." Negan sounded as if he was crying himself.
I let him hold me a moment longer before I shoved him away and stood up. "Please just go. I don’t want to see you again." 
He looked at me pleadingly as he stood, and for a moment I let myself imagine his sincerity until my gaze returned to the floor and he left without another word, taking his stupid bat with him.
2 weeks later...
I’ve fully betrayed myself. Thinking of Negan like he was the only man to exist. My days ran together, and the more time went by, the more I missed my brother, and the more I resented myself for fantasizing about the man who took him from me.
The loud rumbling of engines vibrated my ears as I washed shampoo out of my hair. Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my body and approached my bedroom window, moving the curtain slightly.
Rick's back was facing my window while Negan stood in front of him. I remained still, trying to listen to their conversation and also to avoid drawing attention to myself in the window. 
Sensing my stare, Negan's eyes darted up, instantly meeting mine. I couldn't look away, being frozen in mix of emotions that I didn't know was hatred or lust. Or both. 
A smirk appeared on his face, causing Rick to turn and look towards the window, making me quickly drop the curtain and step back. I brushed my hair, threw on some shorts and a tank top and headed downstairs. As soon as I reached the bottom, there was a knock on the door. My heart raced and I scolded myself on the inside for smiling, quickly replacing it with a frown. Get a fucking grip.
I opened the door, probably with too much eagerness. "I thought i told-"
Oh.. it's just..
"The hells going on with you and Negan?"
"What?" 
"Ya heard me."
I stared at Daryl confused and shocked, not understanding where this sudden confrontation was coming from.
"Nothing! Nothing is going on, what is that even supposed to mean?" I looked past Daryl to find the Saviors' truck already gone and it felt like a punch to my gut.
"I saw that little exchange from your window. Not to mention his last visit when he kicked the saviors outta here." Daryl’s hands rested on his hips and luckily no one else was around to hear his little outburst. This was the most I’d ever heard him speak. 
"Daryl, where is this coming from? How could you seriously think I could ever have an interest in him after what he did?!"
Daryl’s head dropped. "Glenn made me promise if anything ever happened to him, that I’d look after ya."
Tears filled my eyes. 
“We care about ya. Just trying ta keep you safe.”
"I know." You smiled sympathetically before Daryl turned to leave. "Wait.. they left quickly this time. What did they take?" 
"You should know. He only went to your house."
I frowned, closing my front door and suddenly the air around me felt different. I looked around for any trace of him, but it seemed the only thing he left was a pit in my stomach and a faint trail of leather cologne. I was getting ready to head upstairs when something caught my eye from the kitchen table. A rose, lying next to a folded piece of paper.
Meet me at our place tonight. We need to talk. 
Part 3 here
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wynnyfryd · 3 months
Text
Trailer park Steve AU part 47
part 1 | part 46 | ao3
cw: recreational drinking; fatal levels of fluffy idiocy
They make their way over to the kitchen, where Eddie snags them two cans of beer off the counter — warm, but unopened, which is really as much as you can hope for at a house party by this time of night.
Steve doesn't mind, anyway. Doesn't want Eddie's hands to be cold.
"You think you're good to step outside for a few minutes?" he asks, tugging at the hem of Eddie's leather jacket. The black hoodie he has layered underneath. They're not nearly thick enough for an extended stroll through the two-inch blanket of snow outside, but he's hoping it'll do for just a few minutes.
Eddie cracks his beer with a grin. "Why? You wanna have a snowball fight?"
"Something like that."
Eddie follows him out back, down the slope of the lawn toward the property's edge. Away from the rest of the party until theirs are the only footprints in the powdery sheet of fresh snow.
It's bright out tonight. Moonlight bounces so fully off the white canvas that Steve doesn't even need to use a flashlight, and Eddie's pale skin shines; dazzles in the moonglow, all shimmer and sparkle and so utterly alive, his limbs in constant motion to keep the cold out of his bones. He's taking these big exaggerated hop-steps, shaking the snow from his shoes with each lift, compressing the fluff beneath his feet with each heavy stomp down so it doesn't creep into the eyelets of his boots and wet his socks.
Steve's gonna thrift him a new jacket. A big, puffy one, he decides. New boots, too, next chance he gets; gonna wrap him up in a big knitted scarf and crocheted mittens and a hat with a silly little pompom on top. He'd look cute like that, all bundled up. Warm and safe.
"What are you smiling so big for?"
"No reason," Steve smiles wider with a shrug. He doesn't bother trying to explain himself, 'cause he never sounds half as eloquent out loud as he thinks he does in his head; shit gets all jumbled up on the way out of his mouth, but he just thinks, "You look cute."
Eddie stops short. "Excuse you!" he squawks, one foot still hovering in the air. Arms out wide to keep his balance on one leg. "I am not cute."
"Uh huh," Steve licks his lip. Your eyes are bigger than the moon and your cheeks get all pink when you're offended, but sure. You're not cute. "Whatever you say."
"That's right," Eddie insists. He sticks his nose up in the air with a little hmph! noise. "I'm mean and big and scary, and you like doing what I say."
"Also true," Steve agrees.
Eddie's face comes back down, expression softening into something sickeningly sweet; desperately so, almost unbearable to look at.
Steve's heart squeezes hard enough in his chest to bruise his lungs.
"Where are you taking us, anyway?"
"Not much further," Steve says. The party’s on a cul-de-sac that backs up to Maple, to Tommy’s old street — weird, considering how much newer and nicer this neighborhood is compared to Tommy's, but that's how all of Hawkins is. The zones stacked on top of each other, new money swooping in and taking over them like kudzu.
In between the neighborhoods there’s a stretch of untouched woods: old trees and tall grass, brambles and dark mulch and the remains of reedy stalks, and through the center of it all runs a massive, winding storm drain. Like the bones of a concrete snake, blanketed by moss and leaves and snow.
Steve and Tommy used to play here. Used to perch where the drain pipe let out to a shallow open groove; dangle their legs over the edge and pretend they were sitting on a lake dock instead of sweating their asses off in the woods beyond Tommy’s yard.
“This one year,” Steve says as he leads Eddie toward the spot, pausing to hold a branch back so it doesn't pop them in the face. “There was this, like- this crazy flood, and the water got so high that we could almost splash our feet in it from the top of the pipe.”
He points out the drain in question. It’s smaller than he remembers; comes up to maybe shoulder height, but it used to be huge. Used to be that he could stand up in the opening and spread his arms out wide and only just scrape the tips of his fingers against the gritty walls.
Now it looks like he’d tweak his back trying to hunch over to crawl in. Guess he was a lot smaller than he remembers then, too.
"Okay..." Eddie says as he takes wide steps toward it, eyeing the curve of snowy concrete. "I can't tell if this is secluded in a romantic way, or if this is just some creepy Stephen King shit."
Before Steve can so much as roll his eyes, Eddie gasps and spins on his heel; snow spraying under his feet, eyes impossibly wide. "Oh, my fucking god," he breathes.
It puts Steve on high alert. "What is it?" he asks as he steps in close; gets Eddie by the elbows, backs him up against the side of the pipe and uses himself as a shield so he can look over his shoulder and scan the undergrowth. Is there an animal out here? Something worse? Did Eddie see something? "What-?"
When he turns back around, Eddie's clamping his lips shut so tight it looks like it hurts. "I just realized..."
His nostrils flare as a snort escapes him.
Oh, goddammit. Steve thought it was something serious! He slouches in relief, letting his hands slip around Eddie's waist; underneath his jacket, to the dip at the small of his back. "Yes?" he sighs, prompting Eddie to spill whatever's got him trying so hard not to laugh.
"Your- your name is Stephen."
Uh. "Yeah?" What the hell...? "I mean, it's Steven with a V, but- yeah?"
Another giggle breaks free. "And- and you're The King."
"...Oh, my god."
He's so stupid. He is so fucking stupid. Eddie's snickering so hard it's making his nose wrinkle up, his whole face flushed a brilliant pink, and there are fireworks going off in the neighborhoods all around them; Steve can hear the countdowns starting, the muted chorus over the hills, people shouting 'ten! nine! eight!' and Eddie's so fucking tickled he can barely get his words out.
"Baby," he gasps as the crowds chant four! and three! "You're Stephen King."
Two!
Steve has to kiss him.
One!
Has to kiss him and never stop.
"You're an idiot, Eddie Munson," he smiles against laughing lips, and their tongues meet in the middle as they ring the new year in.
part 48
tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)
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navstuffs · 1 year
Text
Wonderful Surprise
Pairing: Husband!Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader
Summary: After a horrible day at work, you find a surprise at your job's doorstep.
Warnings: comforting leon, self indulgent, cute fluff, domestic!leon
Author's Notes: can you imagine just leaving work and seeing leon waiting on you outside???? 😭 to have dinner at your favorite restaurant?? gimme gimme please!! hope you enjoy your reading!
my leon masterlist
You look at the clock, frustrated. Time couldn't be passing any slower. It had been such an exhausting day, and you couldn't wait to get home, unwind on the sofa, watch your favorite tv shows, and eat a warmed-up old pizza. Alone, you thought. No call or text from Leon, your husband, in two days. 
You knew Leon was busy with whatever he had to do in those secret missions of his, and you didn't want him to worry about you, so you didn't disturb him, for more than you missed him. Leon did warn in the last message he could go M.I.A. Since then, something heavy has installed itself in your chest. 
It was always like that, anyway. You became useless at work, at home. You tried to use Leon's shirts to sleep or watch the silly videos he recorded for you in case you missed him.
It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. 
When it is finally time to leave, you walk toward the exit, checking your phone: Still no text messages. You sigh, typing that you would be leaving work and going home. That you loved him and couldn't wait to see him. For him to stay safe.
When you exit through the main doors, you first notice the sky. It is the start of the twilight, and it looks so pretty. You sigh, taking a picture. You may send that one to Leon. At least walking until the bus stop won't be so bad. If you want to get home soon, you must hurry.
You finally notice the man leaning against the building wall, eyes closed, hands in his pocket. Golden locks in front of his serene face, wearing his famous leather jacket. Standing there like an illusion.  
"Leon?" You whisper, mortified. As if he would disappear or it was just your imagination going crazy.
Leon opens his eyes at the sound of your voice, giving a smile, the first one in days. You wait until he walks closer to you and hugs you, a sigh coming from his mouth. 
"Hey, sweetheart," Leon whispers. Work had been horrible for him, and being unable to communicate with you made it much worse. Being close to you and feeling your heartbeat and presence instantly wiped all worries away. You are still frozen, not believing your husband is back. It takes you a couple of seconds before holding him back. Innahiling his smell and presence, all of him, "I missed you."
How much you missed his arms around you. His voice. His touch. You hide your face on Leon, not caring if you are outside work right now and anyone could see you. You can feel the tears forming in the corner of your eyes, and you hug Leon even more tightly. Leon wipes some of your tears when you separate, his eyes full of love.
"Wh-when did you come back?" You wonder as he checks your face, analyzing and admiring simultaneously. 
"About an hour ago?"
"Fuck Leon, I have been worried sick about you. Why didn't you message me?"
"I wish I could have. My phone is gone, sweetie. It was just - fucked up this time, I guess."
You let out a sigh, feeling guilty. Leon looks fine physically: no visible bruises, no cuts. But you know, the inside must be a turmoil. You could see the pain in your husband's eyes, a pain you recognize well. You don't overthink that now, just glad he is home, placing a hand on his chest, another one to rub his cheek. 
"I am sorry. Can we just leave?" You request, and Leon nods, holding your hand.
"Yeap. Just give me your car's keys, I will drive today."
"Wellllllll."
"What is it?"
"I didn't come to work by car. I came by bus," You admit, embarrassed to look at this face.
"Is something wrong with your car?"
"No. It is just...it makes the ride home longer. I tend to do that when you aren't here," You confess, feeling ridiculous. Then you quickly add, to not sound so desperate, "Also, it helps the planet, fewer cars in the streets, pollution, all of that!"
"My car is nearby, don't worry," Leon replies, his voice calm. 
"There is also something else," You add before you can start walking. Leon stares back at you, his expression going a little worried. "We might need to get dinner on the way."
You don't look at Leon for his reaction, worried he might be disappointed with you. And he has all the right to be since you had promised him you would do your best to take care of yourself when he was away.
"I see. Your favorite, then?" Leon simply asks, maintaining the same calm tone from before.
You look at him, grateful and nodding. You are just happy you can have him in yours arms again.
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corroded-hellfire · 1 year
Note
The year is 1986. Eddie is in danger of not graduating (again). Reader is his girlfriend, and she’s tired of him not taking his future seriously, so she breaks up with him. He finally decides to get his sh*t together and buckles down. But is it too late? Will he graduate? Will the love of his life take him back? Up to you, bb!
xoxoxoxo, @munson-blurbs 💚💚 PS ily
Anything for you, my love! I hope you enjoy the way I broke Eddie’s heart. It hurt me more than it did him. ily2💚
Words: 5.2k
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“Eddie, we’ve got to study,” you say. He’s kneeling behind you on his bed, pressing soft kisses along the back of your neck as you try to focus on the textbook laying open in your lap. 
“How am I supposed to concentrate, hmm? With you sitting on my bed, looking so beautiful,” Eddie says against your skin. 
“Okay,” you say, letting your book thump onto his sheets. “I’m gonna quiz you on stuff that’ll be on our finals. For every right answer, I’ll take off a piece of clothing. For every wrong answer, it’s an extra fifteen minutes of study time.”
“Fire away, baby.” Eddie lounges back against his wall and tucks his hands behind his head, a sinful smirk on his lips.
“Let’s start with English,” you say as you shift on the bed to face him. “What two Shakespeare plays are written entirely in verse?”
Eddie purses his lips, eyes searching his bedroom ceiling as if the answers were written across it in big bold letters. “Hamlet and…McBeth?” 
“King John and Richard II,” you say with a sigh. Eddie groans and lets his hands fall down to his lap. 
“Ehh, shit,” Eddie says. “But just because it had two answers doesn’t mean that’s half an hour of study time! That was one question, so only one fifteen-minute addition.”
“Fine,” you say, silently knowing this is all in vain anyway. Eddie’s been caring less and less about school lately, to the point where you’re afraid he’s going to fail senior year for the third time. “We’ll move onto biology.”
“Take your clothes off and I’ll give you a biology lesson.”
“Eddie,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. 
“Fine, fine, sorry. Go on.”
“What part of the brain deals with balance and coordination?”
One of his dark brown eyes squeezes closed and he tilts his head from side to side as if he’s deliberating what he wants for dinner. 
“The left part. No, wait, that’s a joke! I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Um…the frontal lobe?” Eddie winces, knowing that this was just a wild guess—it was the first part of the brain he could think of. 
“The cerebellum,” you say.
“Okay,” Eddie says, nodding his head. “I’ll remember that. The cerebrum controls balance and coordination.”
“The cerebellum,” you correct. 
Eddie groans, rolling the tension out of his neck before letting his head thump back against the wall. 
“Come on, hit me again.”
“Last one,” you say as you adjust your legs tucked underneath you. “History this time. What city was the first capital of the United States?”
“I know it wasn’t DC,” Eddie says, pointing his finger at you. “Hmm, what other cities were important then? Boston, Philly…Philly! Philadelphia!”
At the shake of your head, Eddie slumps down on the bed.
“New York City,” you tell him. 
“Ugh, fuck me.” Eddie rubs his hands over his face, and you give him a pat on the leg. 
“Not tonight, hot shot. Grab your books.”
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Spending your free period in the library, pouring over books, you’re jarred out of the world of microeconomics by the chair across the table from you screeching against the floor as it’s pulled out. A dark figure plops down in it, and you glance up to see the dark leather jacket and black Judas Priest t-shirt that you’d sat next to in last period English. Eddie runs a hand over his unruly curls and shoots you a smile.
“Hey, babe.”
“Eddie, what the hell are you doing here?” you get out through gritted teeth. You’re almost certain the pencil in your hand is going to snap in half. “You’re supposed to be in history.”
“Ugh, O’Donnell,” Eddie complains, dropping his head back. “I swear, she was there for half the shit she’s telling us about. God, I couldn’t take it anymore. She’s just droning on and on. Told her I had to take a leak and knew this is where I’d find my best girl.”
“Eddie!” You all but shout his name before remembering you’re in the library and you lower your voice. “Eddie, you’re already in danger of failing her class. Among others. Should you really be skipping class?”
“Babe, it’s been five minutes,” he says with a chuckle, his carefree attitude that you usually love grating on your nerves. 
“Okay. So, go back and pay attention now.” Your tone is sharp and curt, but you’ve put up with this long enough. 
“Trying to get rid of me?” Eddie asks, jutting out his lower lip in what is an admittedly adorable pout. He leans forward on the table, letting his hand slide over to rest on top of one of yours.
“Trying to get you to graduate,” you say, snatching your hand away. Your boyfriend watches you with wide eyes as you slam your book closed and shove it into your backpack. Slinging it over your shoulder, you stand up and nod your head towards the library door. “Let’s go.”
Eddie follows behind you like a lost puppy as you storm out of the library and stalk down the hall. Once you’ve turned down an empty hallway, you spin around to face him. The anger in your eyes takes him aback, and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“You’re mad,” he says softly. 
“Yes, I’m mad,” you snap. “My boyfriend doesn’t seem to give a shit if he graduates high school or not.”
“I care,” Eddie defends weakly.
“If you cared, you’d be in class right now. Or would study with me when I ask—or at all! Jesus, Eddie, I’ve been trying for months to get you to take your future seriously.”
“My future with you is what’s most important,” Eddie says, hand reaching out for you. Hurt flashes across his face when you pull away, and it hurts you too. This isn’t what you wanted. You’ve never wanted to be the reason Eddie’s in pain. But you also can’t just sit by and let him do this to himself. 
“That’s part of the problem, Eddie. You’re so focused on me and not enough on you.” 
“Because I love you,” he says.
“I love you, too, Eddie,” you reply, tears starting to fill your eyes. “That’s why I’m so concerned about you. About your future.”
“I’ll go back to class,” Eddie says, taking a step closer to you. “I-I’ll study with you. Baby, I promise.”
“You’ve said that before.” You squeeze your eyes closed, resolving yourself to what you know you have to do. As much as you don’t want it. As much as it’s going to break your heart. “It’s not enough, Eddie.”
“Then what?” Eddie rests his hands on your upper arms. “Tell me what to do.”
“It’s too late,” you say, shaking your head. 
“W-What do you mean it’s too late?” But the dread in his eyes says he knows exactly what you mean. 
“You’re not taking your future seriously. I’ve tried so hard to help you, but there’s only so much I can push you. At some point you have to do it for yourself. I’m so tired of waiting for you to do it, though. It hurts me to sit here and watch you not care about you as much as I do.” 
“Sweetheart, please—.”
“Eddie, it’s over. We’re over.” 
Tears flood his eyes as his jaw hangs open. Eddie’s hands slip from your arms, and he stumbles back a step. You know the pain on his face must be reflected in your own. And maybe it means you’re a coward, but you can’t look at his broken expression anymore. Tucking your thumbs into your backpack straps, you turn around and walk down the empty hallway, away from Eddie.
Eddie feels numb. He’s walking around school in a haze. Friends try to talk to him in the hallway, but they sound like they’re underwater and Eddie can’t understand them. Gareth waves his hand in front of Eddie’s face, but he doesn’t even blink. Jeff grabs his shoulder, but Eddie doesn’t even feel it, he just keeps walking. It’s not until Dustin grabs Eddie by the zipper of his leather jacket and pushes him up against the lockers that the twenty-year-old snaps back to reality.
“What?” Eddie asks, big brown eyes blinking as he tries to focus on the shorter man in front of him.
“Are you okay? What the hell is going on?” Dustin asks. Eddie’s eyes find the floor and he shakes off Dustin’s hands. 
“She left me,” he mumbles. 
“What?” Gareth asks, leaning in to hear him better.
“She fucking broke up with me, okay?” His friends flinch as Eddie pushes himself off the lockers and runs his hands over his hair. They back away, giving him room to pace the small area around him. 
“Why?” Jeff asks, sounding half afraid to ask the question to his hot-tempered friend.
“She said I’m not taking my future seriously,” Eddie answers. “That I don’t seem to care that I’m failing classes. Again.” Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie can see his three friends share a look. He stops pacing and stares at them. “What?”
“I mean,” Jeff starts quietly, “she has a point.”
When Eddie just continues to stare, Dustin decides to speak up as well.
“She’s been trying real hard to help you, man. You haven’t seemed to care, though.”
“I…I care,” Eddie says. 
“When’s the last time she tried to get you to study?” Dustin asks.
“The other night.” Eddie remembers, thinking about how he failed your quiz. 
“And what did you do?” Dustin asks.
Eddie sighs and rubs a hand over his forehead. “Tried to have sex with her.” 
“This is probably a good thing,” Gareth says, shrinking in on himself when Eddie glares at him. “For you. So you can focus on school.”
Eddie scoffs. “She really think I’m gonna be able to focus on school after she shatters my heart like this? Fuck, I love her so much.”
“I’m sorry, man,” Jeff says. 
“Fuck this shit.” Eddie slams his fist against the lockers and strides down the hall, towards the exit.
When Eddie gets home, Wayne hasn’t left for work yet. He’s sitting on the couch, remote control in his hand as he points it at the small television and clicks through the channels. Eddie wrenches open the front door, dirty black boots stomping into the trailer before banging the door closed behind him. Wayne pauses his channel surfing to raise an eyebrow at his nephew.
“What’s the matter with you, boy?”
Ignoring the older man, Eddie strides down the hallway to his bedroom, footsteps so heavy they rattle the mugs hanging on the living room walls. Wayne was no stranger to Eddie temper tantrums—having raised him through puberty—but this is a level he hasn’t seen since the last time a letter from his father arrived. He gives it a few moments before deciding to see what’s going on with the brooding boy. Wayne hoists himself off the couch, groaning as his bones click and muscles tighten. 
The bedroom door isn’t fully closed, so Wayne swings it open to see Eddie lying flat on his back, staring up at the water-stained ceiling. He hadn’t even bothered to shed himself of the leather jacket or boots before plopping down. 
“I know I may not have taught you much in life, boy, but I know I taught you manners,” Wayne says. 
Eddie stays silent, which is never the case. That worries Wayne more than anything. 
“Eddie?”
“She dumped me.”
Wayne takes a moment to process what his nephew says. He places his hands on his hips and blows out a breath. 
“What happened?”
Eddie rubs his hands over his face before responding. When he does speak, his tone is bitter. “She said that I don’t care about my future. That she’s tired of sitting around while I’m out here being a dumbass.”
“She wouldn’t say that,” Wayne says with a shake of his head.
“Maybe not with those exact words.” Eddie forces himself to sit up, shoulders slumped. “But the same messaging.”
Sighing, Wayne sits down next to him and pats his shoulder. 
“I’m sorry to hear that. She’s a good kid.”
“I always told her that you like her more than you like me,” Eddie grumbles. 
“Only sometimes,” Wayne jokes with a small smile. “Now, you’re allowed to wallow for one day—two at the most. Then you get your ass in gear and get your act together.”
With a low groan, Eddie flops back down on the bed. “Don’t wanna.”
“Well,” Wayne says, pushing himself off the bed. “The girl is either gonna be right about you or wrong. It’s up to you which one it is.”
Wayne makes his way out of the bedroom and Eddie rolls over so he’s face down on his bed. He squeezes his eyes shut as the first of the tears begin to burn his eyes. The way his throat begins to tighten has Eddie gripping his blanket in his fists. Wayne’s words repeat in his head. Would you end up being right? Is everything you said about him true? Of course it is, he thinks to himself. He’s about to fail senior year for the third time—and he didn’t even care. Until now, he decides. Pushing himself off the bed, Eddie yanks his leather jacket off. He tosses it in the general direction of his closet, not caring where it lands as he bends down to pick his biology textbook from the floor. 
“Should be able to read this whole damn thing before finals.”
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Eddie’s friends hardly recognize him at lunch the next day. Instead of arguing over Lucas missing another Hellfire meeting for a basketball game and munching on pretzels, he has his nose buried in a book. 
“Now I’ve seen everything,” Gareth says, dropping his tray on the tabletop. His brows pinch together when Eddie doesn’t even lift his head. 
“Is that Eddie Munson reading a book?” Jeff asks.
“And not just a book,” Dustin says as he slides into the seat next to his Dungeon Master. He picks the corner up to take a look at the cover to confirm his suspicions, but Eddie’s quick to slap his hand away so he can keep reading. “Eddie is reading Romeo and Juliet.”
“Look at this cultured man,” Gareth says. Still, Eddie doesn’t lift his head. 
“How far do you think this will go?” Mike asks. “Think we could shit talk Metallica?”
“I’m reading, I’m not deaf,” Eddie says. 
“Is this about—” Lucas starts but Dustin elbows him in the ribs. 
Finally, Eddie raises his eyes from the book and sends a death glare to all of his friends. He slams the book closed and snatches it up before striding out of the cafeteria. Weren’t these the same assholes who had told him that you were right about him not taking his future seriously? But the moment they see him trying to improve himself, they decide to make snide jokes. Eddie grumbles as he makes his way to the library, banging the door open and ignoring the sneer from the librarian as he drops down at a table. With a sigh, he opens the book again and continues where he left off before he was rudely interrupted. 
Two periods later, Eddie’s pretty sure Mrs. O’Donnell is going to have a heart attack after he raises his hand and answers a question correctly. The crone takes a moment before continuing her lecture and Eddie smirks in self-satisfaction. 
Once Eddie gets used to his eyes being tired from reading so much, and his headaches from the information overloads start to abate, he manages to bring his grades up. It takes a couple of weeks for him to finally see the difference, but when he does, he feels something that he’s not sure if he’s ever felt before: pride. Being proud of himself is odd at first, and he smokes a bit more than usual to dull the sensation, but he soon comes to enjoy it and the pleasant buzz he feels has nothing to do with the weed. 
A few weeks out from graduation, Eddie’s lounging on the wall in front of the school, stretched out as the late spring sun warms the afternoon, reading the assigned chapter in The Outsiders. A shadow falls across the pages of his book and Eddie squints as he looks up, finding you standing next to him, thumb hooked in the strap of your backpack, a strained smile on your face. 
“Hey, stranger,” you say. 
Eddie pushes himself into a sitting position, letting his long legs dangle over the side of the wall. He closes his book, keeping a ring clad finger between the pages that he’s currently on. 
“Hey,” Eddie says. This is the first time you’ve talked to one another since that day in the hallway. Neither of you had even contacted one another to give back stuff that was at the others’ houses. Eddie knows there’s a handful of his t-shirts at your place and he’s not sure if it comforts him or causes him pain to wonder if you still wear them to sleep. And he knows exactly where the David Bowie tapes that you left in his room are—one is in his stereo right now. He’s managed to either hide or push down the pain from the breakup, but he still spends most nights falling asleep to Space Oddity or Ziggy Stardust. It even got to the point where Wayne had come into his room and said, “As glad as I am that I don’t have to listen to your screaming music, you’ve gotta stop wallowing in pity. Or at least listen to Elvis or somethin’ while ya do.”
“I saw you in the library last week. And I’ve heard that you’ve been working really hard,” you tell him. “I’m glad, Eddie. That’s amazing.”
“Uh, thanks,” he says, nodding his head. Under the guise of avoiding the bright sun, he ducks his head down and looks at his white sneakers. But really, he’s not sure if he can look you in the eye for more than a second at a time. The sadness had given way to anger, which gave away to an empty, aching pain in the pit of his stomach. “I, um, started because I didn’t want you to be right. Apparently, you weren’t the only one who thought I needed to get my shit together. But, uh, now I’m doing it for me. Trying to put me first.”
“Good,” you say. Eddie looks up to see you giving him a genuine smile. The one not many other people got to see. You’re not attempting to give him a pep talk or play some kind of game with him. Eddie can tell that you’re being authentic and really are pleased to see him succeeding. “You deserve it, Eddie. I’m proud of you.”
The words affect him more than he would’ve thought. His throat feels tighter and suddenly the spring day feels like it’s a blisteringly hot August afternoon. “Thanks,” he manages to get out. 
“And I—um, I’m sorry. I really hope you know that I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know.” And he does. Now. He’d had moments of thinking you had done it as a way of calling him stupid or pathetic. But once the haziness of the initial heartbreak wore off, he realized you would never think that, let alone be cruel enough to insinuate it. 
“I guess I’ll see you around, Eddie,” you say, offering him a small wave. He nods his head in acknowledgment and tries to get back to his book. But too much of you fills his head for him to be able to focus on what Ponyboy is talking about.
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Finals come and they go. Eddie waits with bated breath for the results, feeling more on edge, even with kicking up the pot smoking again. When Eddie sees that he’s passed every single exam, the high he feels is better than he could’ve imagined. Not quite as good as some drug highs and definitely nowhere as near the high you gave him, but it’s still good. For the first time in his life, Eddie is excited to come home and wave a school paper in Wayne’s face. In the past, it’d been a detention slip, a letter of reprimand from the principal, or a failed report card that he needed to have signed and returned. But this is something good. Better than good, Wayne tells him. 
“Looks like you’ve got to get yourself a cap and gown, boy.”
So, he does. When he puts them on the morning of graduation though, he groans at how the shade of green looks on him. Black was his best color, according to him, so something this bright just wasn’t him. 
He strolls over to his stereo near the window and firmly presses the play button. Heroes by David Bowie fills the small bedroom as Eddie takes another look at himself in the mirror. No one would look good in this color, he thinks. Well, he muses, that’s not true. You would look good in this color because it’s impossible for you to ever look anything less than breathtaking. 
I, I will be king 
And you, you will be queen
Eddie sighs and turns away from the mirror. Grabbing his keys off of his bedside table, Eddie clicks the pause button on his stereo before heading down the hallway. 
“See ya at the ceremony, old man,” Eddie says to his uncle before he’s out the trailer door. 
Only the graduates and school faculty get there this early, so the parking lot is relatively empty when Eddie pulls in. He hops out of his van and sees Jeff getting out of his car a few spaces over. 
“Glad to see you look as awful as I do in this shit,” Eddie says as he makes his way over to his fellow Hellfire member. 
“Black robes would’ve been brutal under this sun though, dude,” Jeff replies.
Eddie shrugs because he knows his friend is right. Together they walk towards the football field, a place Eddie actively tried to avoid all the years he spent here. It looks like most of the students are here already. Not long after Eddie spots Jason Carver straightening his tie, even though it’s under the gown, all the students are herded into the gymnasium to wait for the ceremony to begin. The gym smells even worse than normal with the whole senior class shoved inside. Eddie spies you off towards a corner, laughing about something with Nancy. It wouldn’t surprise him if you’re trying to make her laugh to take her mind off of the valedictorian speech she’s about to give. Eyes taking in how you look in the green cap and gown, Eddie knows he was right before; you are the only one who looks drop dead gorgeous in the graduation garment.  He knows his eyes have been on you for too long, but he can’t bring himself to tear them away.
“So, what’s going on there?” Jeff asks, seeing where his friend’s gaze lies. “You did what she wanted, right? Are you going to try and get back together with her?”
Eddie sighs and finally breaks his gaze away from you. Instead, he looks up into the rafters of the gym, squinting as the bright lights shine down.
“I don’t really think this was a ‘if you fix this, we’ll get back together’ type of situation,” Eddie says. “Besides, it’s been months. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s been on dates with a bunch of different guys by now.” 
“You still love her, though.” It’s not a question from Jeff, it’s a statement. A fact that was as obvious as the scuff marks on the floor of the gym. 
“Yeah,” Eddie says, not adding anything further. 
“Shouldn’t you at least try then?” Jeff asks. “You did all that hard work.”
“But I didn’t do it for her,” Eddie answers with a shake of his head. “I did it for me.”
“But you still did it,” Jeff points out. “It won’t be in vain either way, man, because you’re here right now. About to graduate. I’m just saying you should talk to her. See where things stand.”
“Maybe,” Eddie says with a sigh. 
Mrs. O’Donnell bustles into the room—well, as fast as she can at her age. Taking stock of the children around the gym, she claps her hands together to get their attention.
“Okay, okay, everyone. Time to line up. We’ll be starting soon.”
Jeff and Eddie let themselves be herded with the rest of their class and listen half-heartedly at instructions shouted at them as they make their way back outside. 
Once the ceremony starts, it’s long and boring. Nancy’s speech isn’t as bad as Eddie expected, though. But Principal Higgins has to talk, then just about every other school official that Eddie swears he’s never seen in the front office even after all the time he’s spent in there. Then the never ending list of names begins. Of course all the names are familiar to Eddie, but that doesn’t mean he cares enough to watch each of them walk across the stage, shake hands, and get their diploma. There are only a select few people that Eddie actually pays attention for. 
“Nancy Wheeler.”
“Robin Buckley.”
“Jason Carver.” Eddie pretends to gag.
“Chrissy Cunningham.”
“Jeff Donaldson.”
Then it’s your turn. Eddie can’t take his eyes off of you or the big grin on your face as you hop up on the stage and go through the long line of people none of you had ever heard of to shake their hands. Your eyes light up as your diploma is handed to you. Eddie doesn’t even realize he’s smiling along with you until his cheeks begin to ache. That settles it, he thinks. I have to talk to her. 
“Eddie Munson.”
Hearing his own name called over the loudspeaker jars him out of his thoughts. He’s distantly aware of people cheering for him as he makes his way to the stage, but it feels too weird to be real. People didn’t even cheer for him at Corroded Coffin shows. Eddie takes the steps up to the stage two at a time and forces a pleasant smile to his lips as he shakes Principal Higgins’ hand. The rest of the faces become a blur as he moves from person to person until he finally gets his diploma. He grins at the simple rolled up paper in his hands. It’s just a blank piece of paper until his real diploma comes in, he knows, but it means so much more. It’s proof that he did it. That he graduated at long last. The now-familiar pride swells up in him as he heads back to his seat among the students in the green sea of their robes. 
When the ceremony finally comes to an end, there’s hugging and crying and squealing coming from all around the football field. Eddie makes his way out into the parking lot where families are taking photos with their graduates, all smiles and congratulations. Wayne’s truck is hard to miss in the parking lot; by far the oldest vehicle there. Eddie heads in that direction and is greeted by a beaming uncle.
“M’so proud of you, boy.” Wayne pulls Eddie into a hug, which wasn’t a usual occurrence in the Munson household. “You put your mind to something and ya did it.”
“Thanks,” Eddie says, smiling sheepishly. 
“Congratulations.”
The familiar voice coming from behind him has Eddie spinning around so fast he hears his neck crack.
“Uh, thanks,” he says. “You too.” 
“C’mon, let me get a picture of the two of you,” Wayne says, pulling a camera that looks older than Eddie out of his pocket. 
Eddie is about to protest, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or feel obligated, but you’re looping your arm through his before he can even open his mouth. You tilt your head, close to Eddie’s shoulder but not quite touching, and smile prettily for the camera. Eddie musters his best look for the picture as well, but on the inside, he’s cringing as he imagines what that picture must look like.
“Perfect,” Wayne says. He unlocks his truck and tosses the camera inside. “I’ll see you later, Eddie?”
“Okay,” Eddie says.
Wayne pulls Eddie in for another hug before enveloping you in one as well.
“I’m real proud of both of you,” he says.
“Thanks, Wayne,” you reply.
Wayne climbs into his truck and gives the two of you one last wave before heading out of the parking lot. 
“So, uh,” Eddie starts at the same time you say, “So, listen.”
Eddie chuckles and nods his head at you. “You first.”
“Oh, I, um, was just going to ask if you were going to the party tonight. At Cat’s place.”
“I hadn’t really planned on it,” Eddie says as he unzips the graduation robe. “Why?”
“Well, uh, I—I was wondering if maybe you’d want to? I mean, I-I’ll be there. But if you don’t wanna, I totally understand.”
“You want me to?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows at you as he slips his hands into the pockets of his black jeans. 
“I do,” you say, a shy look that Eddie is unaccustomed to on your face. “Like I said, I get it if you don’t want to. But I had to at least ask.”
“I guess it wouldn’t kill me to go for a little while. Might be able to sell.”
“You don’t want to celebrate?” you ask. “Dance and drink?”
“Of all people, you should know better than anyone that I don’t dance,” Eddie says with a small smile. 
“But you drink,” you point out. 
“Why do you want to spend time with me?” Eddie asks, tilting his head to the side, like a puppy wondering what it’s human just said. Better to ask bluntly and get a clear answer then try to piece one together in his mind. 
“I need a reason?”
“Kind of. After you dumped me? Yeah, you do.”
“I miss you,” you admit, so quietly that Eddie almost misses it. “I’ve missed you from the moment I left you standing there in that hallway. So many times I almost caved and begged you to take me back. But then I’d see you studying, and it would remind me that you need to focus on you. And you did. Look what you accomplished. I’m really, really proud of you, Eddie.”
“Not bad for the school freak, huh?” Eddie asks, the beginnings of a smirk curling his pink lips. 
“I think you need a new nickname,” you muse. “We’re not in school anymore.”
“Maybe we can come up with one at the party tonight,” Eddie says, causing your face to light up in excitement. 
“Really? You’ll go with me?” you ask, eyes widening in hope.
“I’d be pretty dumb not to.”
“You’ve always been far from dumb, sweetheart,” you tell him. Hesitantly, you reach out and lace your fingers with his. “I think I came up with a new nickname for you, too.”
“Do tell,” Eddie says. 
“No more Eddie the Freak or Eddie the Banished,” you say, imitating Eddie’s Dungeon Master voice. “You are now Eddie the graduate.”
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thefallennightmare · 3 months
Text
Just Pretend-twenty
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*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*
Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader
Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.
Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.
Authors Note: We worked so fucking HARD on this! Please appreciate it and please 🙏 pay attention to everything.
Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)
Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967 @halloweenaesthetic
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NOAH
I stood in front of the mirror, straightening out my shirt, and made sure my hair was perfectly pulled back into the low bun. Excitement filled my veins, making me jittery, knowing that Y/N would be showing up shortly. We all were ready to help her and Malcolm set up for Chase’s surprise birthday party. 
Y/N had been texting me the last couple of days stressing out about every last-minute detail for this party. Chase was never big on celebrating his birthday but he was turning twenty-five so she and Malcolm wanted to make sure that everything went off without a hitch tonight. 
I also was nervous to see Y/N again after our conversation at Davis’ house the other night because she knew the truth; most of it anyway. Bailey and I were done, something Y/N knew. But with the stress of the party, we couldn’t continue our conversation from the other night. 
The nerves were eating away at me, like a disease, so I started pacing in front of the mirror, trying to hype myself up. I woke up anxious this morning and even after meditating earlier, I still couldn’t get rid of this feeling. 
I pinched my cheeks and smiled. 
“Hi Y/N,” I said to myself. 
No, I sound like an idiot. 
“Hi, angel. You look gorgeous today.”  
Eh, a little bit better. 
I continued to pace back and forth in my room, muttering words under my breath. 
 “Hi, angel. You look beautiful today. I’m happy to have the party here.”
My feet came to a halt as I snorted to myself. “I’m happy to have the party here. Who the fuck says that? That’s so stupid. It’s just Y/N; her. Why am I overthinking talking to her?”
I get those ridiculous butterflies, even in my current state. It’s like being in a botanical garden, waiting for them to emerge. Waiting for Y/N at any stage feels like that. 
“Shit, that’s corny isn’t it?” I muttered under my breath as I ran a hand over my face. 
Another thing I suppose I’ve noticed about myself all this time lately. Growth in words- is this maturity? A grown man with grown feelings. 
I often saw my future as not so bright and wasn’t sure if this thing called life would work out. So, I stood here in front of the mirror in my bedroom and thought that maybe this life that I yearned for would work out and Y/N possibly, maybe, needed to be included in it. 
With a final deep breath, I threw on my leather jacket and then checked myself over in the mirror one last time. The black shirt underneath the jacket was pristine, not a hint of hair or lint, and my white wash skinny jeans had a hole in the knee showcasing the rose tattoo. 
Y/N would be here any minute. My mind went straight to what she looked like, what she’d be wearing, and how badly I wanted her perfume to penetrate my senses.
As I bounded down the first set of steps, I turned on the landing to retreat down the rest of the stairs but came to a halt when her presence was immediately felt. In the threshold stood Malcolm and Y/N, talking with Jesse who answered the door. The bright smile on her face made my stomach twinge in a good way as my breath caught in my throat. 
Her long hair fell to the middle of her back in waves. The black dress hugged every one of her curves in all the right places, stopping right beneath her ass. Her tattoos were on full display tonight. The swell of her breasts poked through the mesh part of her dress that covered her neck and chest.
I wasn’t sure if Y/N having a glowing halo effect was normal, hence why the nickname I had for her only made sense.
Angel. 
It began to feel like she was specifically meant to shine for me alone, a long time ago, even with that time we were distant. I couldn’t possibly imagine another man seeing it or enjoying the warmth Y/N brought. My palms were sweating, I knew this had to be it. I had to make the move.
“You’re such a sweet talker, Jesse,” Y/N giggled while playfully rolling her eyes, tapping his cheek twice.
As I took the last step, stepping into the living room, something fell from her bag causing her to bend over to pick it up. Orie snuck up beside me and tilted his gaze toward Y/N’s ass; something I noticed immediately. 
“Orie,” I seethed low. 
His eyes snapped over to me, a sly smirk on his lips. “Y/N looks good, huh?” 
My jaw ticked but I let out a deep breath while counting to my ten in my head. 
I’m not mad. It’s innocent. It’s Orie, he knows how I feel about Y/N.
As Y/N stood tall, a bright shine from around her neck caught my attention, and gone was the anger replaced with sheer adoration. She was wearing the necklace and bracelet I bought her for her birthday. 
My heart skipped a beat as our eyes finally locked. 
“Hi,” Y/N smiled warmly. 
“Hi, angel.” 
I shifted on my feet, suddenly hot under her bright gaze. She looked absolutely breathtaking in that dress and how it hugged her tits perfectly made my cock throb in my jeans.  She softly tucked a strand behind her ear and our eyes never left each other. Malcolm looked between us, a sly smirk on his lips. 
“Y/N, why don’t you hand me the bags? I’ll start getting things set up while Noah gives you the tour,” Malcolm said while taking the bags of party supplies from her. 
“Yeah,” I nodded. “Sure.” 
As she walked past me, the scent of her perfume filled my senses and my cock now ached when I remembered how pretty she looked while sitting on top of me, her hands grasping my braids. 
“Oh, you smell good,” Y/N smiled up at me as I began leading her to the kitchen so she could set down the rest of the bags Malcolm couldn't carry. 
My cheeks warmed and I rubbed the back of my neck. “Thanks-uh, so do you.” 
“Let me take those from you,” Jolly smiled while giving Y/N a friendly kiss on her cheek. 
“Thank you, Jolly.” She smiled. “Did we get enough alcohol? I ordered the pizzas but I won’t have time to pick them up. Oh shit, I forgot to buy cups!” 
Y/N went to turn on her heels but I gently grabbed her shoulders to keep her in place in front of me, her back to my chest. 
“You need to relax, angel. You're trying to control so much of this party. Let us help you,” I rubbed out the tense muscles in her shoulder. 
“I just want to make things perfect for Chase,” she relaxed in my embrace. “The last few years of his birthday have been filled with unnecessary drama.” 
My nose brushed along her hairline. “It will be fine. Davis will pick up the pizzas and we’ll have Nick buy the cups.” 
“Someone has to pick up Chase. If I go, he’ll be able to read me and know something is up,” Malcolm said while unloading all the party supplies. 
“Fuck, I can’t. My car is filled with the balloons,” Y/N tensed under my touch so I was quick to offer a solution. 
“Okay, so this is what we will do. Davis will pick up the pizzas. Nick will stop at the store to buy the cups. Michael and Orie are in charge of setting up the alcohol. Jolly and Jesse, you guys figure out the music. Folio will pick up Chase. Those two can talk about drums or cymbals.” 
Y/N instantly relaxed once again and leaned her head against my shoulder. “Matt is picking up the cake.”
My hands rubbed her arms. “See? We have everything figured out. There’s no need to stress, angel.” 
“I know,” she let out a deep breath. “Thank you guys for letting us have the party here. It’s a nice place, lots of space. ” 
Michael chuckled while setting up the makeshift bar on the kitchen island. “You’d think so with the five of us but I’m starting to think we’re out-growing this place.” 
“Soon, it’ll be four of you. I move out at the end of the month,” Orie said as he walked into the kitchen, giving Y/N and Malcolm a fast fist bump. 
“Oh, that’s right. With the Mrs,” Jesse smirked. 
Orie rolled his eyes with a small smirk. “She’s not the Mrs. Yet.” 
Y/N watched my roommates bicker back and forth with a bright smile which in turn, made me hold onto her a bit tighter, not wanting to let her go. From day one, she always fit in with us, never once feeling left out. Everyone welcomed her with open arms and for that, I’ll always be grateful for that. 
“Angel,” I said into her hairline.
Y/N eyes sparkled as she gazed up at me, a loose strand of silky hair fell into her face, so I brushed it away and let my finger graze over her cheek. 
“Hm?” Her voice was quiet. 
“Let me show you upstairs,” my voice matched hers.
The corner of her lips lifted in a smile. “I’d love that.” 
As the others chatted amongst themselves, I led Y/N back to the living room, hand now on her back, and as we reached the stairs Bryan walked through the front door with Matt. 
“Hi!” Y/N smiled and stepped away from my embrace to give them their own separate hugs. “Malcolm is in the kitchen, he can show you guys where to set everything up.” 
Matt smiled while letting his hand rest in the middle of her back. “You look beautiful, Y/N.” 
I kept a watchful gaze on her, even though there wasn’t a need to.
“Oh, such a sweetheart,” she playfully pinched his cheeks. “You forgot to grab the cake didn’t you?” 
“Don’t worry,” he waved her off. “Davis will pick it up on his way over here; after he gets the pizza. I already texted him.” 
Rolling her eyes, Y/N turned her attention to Bryan. “Did you bring it?” 
He held up his camera bag. “Everything is ready to go.” 
“Awesome,” she clapped her hands with excitement. 
“What are you planning?” I questioned while crossing my arms over my chest. 
Y/N merely shrugged with a coy smirk. “Oh, nothing. Now are you going to finish giving me the tour or what?” 
I held out my arm towards the staircase on my left. “After you, angel.” 
Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor only to be muted by the carpet on the stairs and I followed close behind her, Matt’s voice calling after us. 
“Leave the door open, you two!” 
Without Y/N seeing, I flipped off Matt and then led her down the long hallway, telling her whose room was whose. She walked in front of me, her scent filling my senses the entire time, and my hands ghosted over her hips as I led her to the last door on the left.
“Welcome to my abode! Mi casa su casa and all that shit,” I said as we came to a stop. 
Y/N giggled. “And you said you couldn’t speak Spanish.” 
“I tried, gave up,” I chuckled, now grasping her hips from behind. 
With her standing in front of me, I stuck my arms over her shoulders to reach for the doorknob. But before I opened the door, I rested my chin on her shoulder, and Y/N immediately relaxed in my embrace. 
“This is my room,” I breathed against the crook of her neck. 
I saw her skin prick like a cactus as my breath tickled her sensitive skin. I only imagined her nipples probably did too but had to switch thoughts to avoid my cock twitching in case Y/N could feel it brush against her ass. I gazed down at her, my eyes immediately watching the rise and fall of her chest, and I licked my lips at the sight of them. 
A light click sounded as I opened my door, gently patting Y/N’s thigh so she could walk inside. She took a few tentative steps but I didn’t let her go far without me right behind her. It’s been so long since I felt her this close and now nothing was stopping us.
My heart was so heavy with my devotion, that I nearly kneeled at her feet.  If she only knew, I would do anything for her- to the fucking grave. Either way what bliss. This would be the best chance for me to explain it; to cave and tell her those three words.
I craved Y/N’s touch, her in this room was beginning to consume me and I’d fucking let her.  I watched her eyes close and open slowly, her body movements so gentle she leaned into my tiny touches. The way my hand grazed up her back. The way my fingers danced with hers as we stepped through the threshold of my bedroom; her pinking hooking with mine. I was so close to forgetting what the event tonight was. All I wanted was her all to my fucking self and I wanted to throw her on my bed only to rip off that dress. My tongue craved to taste every single part of her. 
Y/N’s eyes took in all aspects of my room; my desk with my computer. 
“Levi, huh?” She smirked while pointing to my monitor. 
Earlier, I was watching Attack on Titan and paused the episode, never exiting out of the app. 
I shrugged while stuffing my hands deep into my pockets. “You know he’s my favorite, he’s pushing for Naurto to move for the top spot.”
“It’s the hair I bet,” she began looking around my room once again. 
To the mirror, my bed, and the rosary beads. Her eyes darted from the bed back to me, a silent question. 
I nodded, letting her know it was fine to sit, which she did by resting on the edge. I followed, not leaving any space between us. 
“Shit,” Y/N cursed with a groan. “I don’t know why I even wore heels. They kill my ankles.” 
Bending over, I lifted both her feet into my lap to remove her heels then set them on the bed behind me. 
“But they complete my outfit,” she pouted. 
I chuckled while tracing a finger over the small tattoo on her ankle, the one that mirrored mine in design and spot. 
“Just rest your feet for a little while,” I suggested, eyes still on her tattoo. 
Mine subconsciously began to itch with the memories of when we got the tattoos. Her birthday. 
“Oh,” I said suddenly, remembering what I saw online earlier. “I saw that Hollow Souls are going on tour again?” 
Y/N smiled brightly, pure excitement on her face. “Yeah. Who told you that?” 
I waved her off with the hand that wasn’t grazing over her ankle. “Oh, must have been the little birds.” 
“Sneaky birds. But did you see who we’re touring with?”  
I hummed. “Nothing, nowhere. I bet you’re fangirling on the inside right now, huh?” I teased. 
“Can you blame me?” She scoffed. “Joe’s been one of my favorite artists for years now and to experience touring with him, I haven’t stopped smiling since I got the call.”  
When I first found out about this tour, I expected myself to get jealous at the thought of her being on the road with another man while being so far from me but surprisingly, I felt at peace. I trusted Y/N and knew that although she might have had an artist appreciation, I would have liked to think that her heart stayed with me. 
“It will be a sick tour,” I nodded. “Maybe I’ll come out to a show and support you guys. How does it feel knowing this is your first tour as a three piece?” 
Y/N played with the hem of her dress. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited; nervous but very excited. But it's still daunting to know that we have to go up there without a screamer, you know? Everyone seems to be loving our new singles but having to go out there and perform them is scary.” 
“Well, if you’re ever interested in taking up screaming. There’s this great vocal coach that I’ve been looking into. She helps out a lot of artists and I have my first lesson with her at the end of the month,” I stated, fingers still grazing over her skin. 
“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks Mochi,” Y/N reached over and ruffled my hair. 
I dragged my finger up her calf now, her skin pricking under my touch, and I dared a glance to her inner thighs and my cock was now aching in my jeans. Her head turned towards my mirror closet as she watched our reflections. 
“Hm, a mirror right in front of your bed. Kinky,” she winked. 
By now my cock was straining against my zipper and knew I needed to do something about it soon otherwise it would be an issue for the rest of the night. There it went again, my mind completely doing the opposite of what I wanted right now. All I saw were those erotic images over and over.
Y/N kneeled down on the floor between my legs and I shivered under her touch again as her nails raked up and down my thighs. I watched her actions from the mirror behind her, eyes drinking at the sight of her large back tattoo and the perkiness of her round ass. My cock twitched in front of her face as she gazed up at me, taking her bottom lip between her teeth.
“I’ve dreamed of the way you tasted, Noah.”
I shook the thought away but it didn't last long because another image of Y/N flashed in my mind. 
A guttural groan sounded from the back of my throat and I titled my head up towards the ceiling, my long hair cascading down my back. I gripped Y/N’s head with a vise grip and guided her up and down; slowly at first until I reached the resistance of the back of her throat and buried my cock deep in there.
That dream was so vivid when I had it months ago, just as the memories are now. 
Her pussy clenched over my cock as she came undone, her arousal spreading down my thighs. I hooked my fingers in her mouth to hold her up so she could watch us in the mirror now.
“Watch as I fuck your pretty pussy,” I ordered, long hair covering my face.
Y/N did the best she could to nod with my hooks in her mouth and my pace became relentless, slamming into her so hard and fast that the noises echoed throughout my room. The burning felt warm at the base of my spine as my heart pounded wildly in my chest, my own orgasm so fucking close to destroying me.
“Noah?” 
My eyes snapped away from our reflections in the mirror to Y/N’s ethereal face, my fingers still grazing up and down her leg. “Hm?”
“Well, before you zoned out,” she giggled while removing her legs from my lap only to sit on her knees. “I was going to tell you, I love your house and your room! It’s- it’s cute. The LED lights are a nice touch.” 
I smiled. “I love the way you look with them. Soaked in neon glows.” 
Y/N’s eyes sparkled as she looked over my shoulder towards the wall where I had old Bad Omens tour posters framed. 
“No way,” she muttered while climbing off the bed to gaze upon the frames. “You kept the tour poster with Hollow Souls?” 
I rose to my feet, brushing away any hair or lint from my leather jacket, and stood behind her. 
“Yeah, it was our first tour together. It may not have ended in the best way but it’s where we met,” I brushed away her hair from her neck, seeing the tattoo of her large snake back piece peek through the top of her dress. 
Fuck, this had to be my favorite tattoo of hers. It fit her back so well, each groove of her spine. 
I really should book that appointment.
My fingers now grazed over her bracelet and I hummed low in approval. “These look really good on you, angel.” 
“I wear them all the time now. I never take them off. Not even in the shower,” she winked while gazing over at me.
Fuck. 
My cock twitched and I let out a low groan, imagining Y/N in the shower with her necklace and bracelet only on her unholy skin. I leaned my face into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent, and when my lips brushed against the skin behind her ear, Y/N shivered at my touch. 
“Noah,” she breathed. 
“I’ve missed the way you smelled,” my teeth grazed on the shell of her ear. 
Slowly, Y/N turned in my embrace, now gazing up at me through those long lashes, and I sucked in a breath at her sheer beauty. That magnetic pull that we always felt between us began to vibrate within us, causing her to lean up towards my lips. I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers linger on the side of her neck briefly before cupping her cheek. 
“Mochi,” she moaned softly.
I swallowed, my voice just above a whisper. “Angel.”
Y/N’s hands grasped at my arms, her nails digging into the leather of my jacket, and I continued to hold her face in between my hands. Our lips were so fucking close now, I could feel her warm breath fan across until the taste of raspberry lingered on my bottom lip. 
“Hey, Davis is wondering if the pizzas are already paid for?” Jesse came barreling through the closed door. 
My head snapped to the right, eyes narrowing at him as he peeled an orange with a smug smile on his face. 
“Shit, did I interrupt something? I tend to do that. Just with different fruits,” Jesse popped a piece of orange in his mouth. 
I sighed and let my hands fall from Y/N’s so I could point a finger at him. “You’re peeling an orange and the juices are dripping all over my clean floor.”
“It’s fine. See?” He wiped some of the juice with his foot, his sock getting citrus on it, smearing it all over the hardwood. 
“Jesse,” I gritted out through clenched teeth. “I spent all day cleaning and mopping this entire space.” 
He rolled his eyes and finished the rest of the orange in one bite. “So, Davis.” 
Y/N, who was stifling a giggle behind her hand, nodded. “Yes, the pizzas are already paid for. It’s under Malcolm’s name.”
“Cool. Speaking of which, Malcolm needs help with the banner.” 
“Of course he does,” Y/N shook her head with a chuckle and began to walk away. 
My hand reached for hers, locking around her wrist. “Do you want some help?” 
She patted my hand lightly. “I’d love that, Noah.” 
As Y/N put her heels back on, I pushed Jess out of my room, orange peels and all. Then I led Y/N back downstairs with my hands on her hips. 
“I swear, I’m going to have to buy a lock for my door if Jesse keeps popping in,” I grumbled. 
Y/N turned in my embrace slightly to smack my chest. “Oh, be nice.” 
“And if I’m not?” I teased with a raised brow. 
Just as her lips parted, another shrill voice echoed through the space of the living room; one I hadn’t expected to hear. 
“Hi, baby!”
Y/N’s feet skidded to a halt and I nearly tripped over her since she was still in front of me. 
“Surprise!” Bailey yelled while shaking her hands, standing on the other side of the open door. 
Michael stood holding the door open, unsure what to do. 
“That’s not until later,” Y/N snapped with fists clenched. 
Bailey’s eyes landed on Y/N and I could easily see the way her jaw ticked. “What are you doing here?” 
“Excuse me?” She scoffed.
Bailey pushed past Y/N towards me, trying to rest her hands on my chest; an action I quickly brushed away.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” I asked dumbfounded. 
Her brows furrowed. “I thought maybe we could talk.” 
Bailey’s breath had a lingering scent of alcohol and I scrunched up my nose in disgust. She was a fucking mess; this whole thing was a fucking mess that I needed to rid myself and everyone else of. 
I peered over her shoulder towards Michael and Y/N, whose eyes burned straight into my own; she was furious. 
Angel- my angel. She was going to be so angry with me. I had to explain; fast. My feet couldn’t get to her fast enough
“Y/N-,” I began while stepping away from Bailey. 
She shook her head, ignoring my pleas as she brushed past me. “Malcolm needs my help.” 
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READER
I’m angry-no, I’m furious. 
Should I be angry? Do I have the right to feel this way? It’s not like Noah and I were together. I learned quickly what Bailey’s place was. He was clearly trying to make me jealous, and it worked. 
I ripped apart a piece of tape to hand up to Malcolm who was standing on a chair to hang up the banner. 
“What’s wrong, sweets?” He asked. 
Grumbling in response to his question, I handed him another piece of tape just as Noah walked into the kitchen. 
“Angel,” he reached for my arm. “Let me explain! I ended it!” 
I ripped my elbow from his grasp to walk away from him, ready to help Jolly finish setting up the alcohol. 
“I don’t have time for this bullshit, Noah. I have to finish setting up for Chase’s party. Not talk about unwanted guests or lies.” 
His face fell. “I’m not lying. Please, can we talk?” 
Malcolm stared down at Noah from the chair with confused eyes as Jolly’s gaze bounced back and forth between us. “What’s going on?” 
“There’s nothing to talk about. Chase will be here soon,” I ignored Jolly. 
“Y/N,” Noah begged with a trembling lip as he stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “The house is already ready. We need to talk.” 
“I’m not doing this with you right now!” I spat with venom, eyes burning into his. 
“Y/N,” he tried to reach for my hands but I smacked them away. 
Jolly quickly picked up that something was wrong so after setting down the bottle of booze, he motioned for me to follow him. 
“Let’s get some air, huh?” 
Turning my back to Noah, I let Jolly lead me out of the kitchen onto their back porch, the cooling air of the afternoon immediately causing goosebumps to graze my skin; skin that Noah moments ago was touching with his lips. 
“Everything alright?”  
I began pacing, running a hand through my hair. “He lied to me, Jolly! He told me he broke things off but she’s here!” 
He shook his head. “No, Y/N, I promise you; Noah broke up with Bailey. We can all vouch for that.” 
“Then why is she here?!” I yelled with a hand extended towards the house behind him. 
“She’s here to salvage whatever she can. But that’s not on him or you,” Jolly said with his ever-calming voice. 
I swear, his accent is what always made any difficult situation easier. 
“It's just-,” I sighed while falling onto the step, Jolly immediately following me. “Every time I think Noah and I are getting somewhere, some bullshit comes up to continue to keep us apart.” 
Jolly nodded. “I can understand that, I get it. But it doesn’t have to be complicated. It really doesn’t, Y/N.” 
“Then why does this keep happening?” I blew out a shaky breath while looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. 
I was so fucking tired of the universe trying to keep Noah and me apart. I was so fucking tired of trying to be happy for more than a mere moment before something came to crash around me. 
Was I not worthy of a happy ending? After all the bullshit I’d gone through?
Jolly brushed away a stray tear, a solemn smile on his face. “Maybe the universe is-shit-I don’t know trying to humble you both first? Heal? Hell if I know, I’d kill to have that spark you two have. I don’t know shit about this, Y/N. But I do know Noah; he isn’t perfect. But he’s trying so hard to be. He also isn’t lying to you, he isn’t.”
Reluctantly, I nodded and rested my head against his shoulder. “Is it alright if I just sit here a minute with you?” 
He patted my knee. “Take all the time you need, söt.” 
“Huh?” I looked up at him. 
With a chuckle, Jolly wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “It means sweet, in Swedish. Sorry, sometimes it slips out without-.” 
“No!” I patted his knee now. “I like it.” 
With a relaxed breath, I eased into Jolly’s comforting embrace, thankful that I had so many friends to confide in when things became tough. 
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MATT
So ‘distressed distraction mission fail’ was here. I chuckled to myself, my inner monologue taking over. I felt like it was closing in around me. In my mind, I was growing larger and larger, expanding with aggravation. If I say something too fast, to get myself under control, I’d explode and take the situation in my hands. 
This wasn’t my fuckin fight, I knew that. But- once again, this girl proves to me she doesn’t belong here and surely, doesn’t understand the words no.
Stop. 
Leave.
Noah ended this shit so why was she here? Dogs and fucking rabid raccoons understand basic shit better than Bailey.
I often tried to bite my tongue. I often tried to be kind when I didn’t need to be. It was important to be kind, however, not when you fuck with my family. Bailey didn’t get my message the last time. However, I knew tonight was going to be the last time she’d be around. I felt that shit in my gut.
Good fuckin riddance.
Noah was still in the kitchen and from the way Malcolm was laying into him about something, I knew he’d be held up there for a few minutes. 
I walked up to Bailey as she was sitting on Noah’s couch, a glass of wine in her hand. 
“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in.” I taunted while crossing my arms over my chest, staring down at her. 
Bailey rolled her eyes while taking a very long sip of her wine. “Matt, seriously?” 
“Yeah, seriously. Any particular reason you’re here tonight, trying to, I don’t know, ruin another gathering?” 
“I just wanted to talk to Noah,” she slurs while slowly sanding to her feet, swaying slightly. “I think we can figure things out.” 
My face scrunched in disgust. “Why don’t you sit down, no need to make a bigger fool of yourself.”
“‘M not,” the red liquid swirled in her cup as she shook her head. 
“I’m sorry but have you been blind this whole time?” I wondered.
Bailey scoffed, suddenly falling back onto the couch and spilling a few drops of wine onto the couch. “I’m not blind.” 
Fuck, if Noah wasn’t pissed with this girl before, he definitely would be now for staining his couch. 
I bent low on my knees to make direct eye contact with her. “You keep acting like it, Bailey. You should have just taken the voicemail for what it was. Noah ended it with you; it’s done. What was the point of even coming over here? Because this thing with him isn’t going to happen. You're water and Y/N is milk.” 
“What does that mean?” Bailey hiccuped, resting her head against the back of the couch. 
I peered over my shoulder to point toward Noah, who was watching Y/N directly as she walked back inside with Jolly. She didn’t bother to give Noah an ounce of attention as she was led by Jolly into the dining room. The look of hurt and yearning from Noah made my own stomach drop. His usual stoic face was void, it was evident that his emotions were coming to the surface. Noah loved Y/N with his entire essence but this woman sitting in front of me was going to ruin it. 
The hurt I felt for my friend; no, my brother made the tone in my voice turn to ice as I glared back at Bailey.
“Y/N is the fucking moon that lights his entire dark sky. Come on, stop playing stupid,” I stood to my feet and ran a hand through my hair. 
Leaving her to sulk on her own, I motioned for Malcolm to come out front with me so we could talk privately. 
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NOAH
Music blasted throughout my house, the party well underway. Chase arrived about thirty minutes ago, not a hint of surprise on his face but still wore a happy smile. Somehow he managed to find out about the party, which immediately brought a sad smile to Y/N’s face; one I wished I could brush away with my thumb. 
“Ah, it’s alright sweets. I really appreciate the effort,” Chase kissed her forehead before laying a kiss on Malcolm’s lips. “Thank you, guys. I love you.” 
I tried talking to Y/N one more time before the party started but with Malcolm’s ice-cold gaze, I knew it wasn’t the right time. It would have to wait until later. 
Something else needed my attention. 
Bailey stumbled into the living room, red solo cup barely hanging between her fingers, as she was in a fit of giggles. I internally was smoldered with resentment as I watched Bailey. Rage flowed through me like lava because she came here and did this. I tried, I fucking tried.  I realized this was the consequence of my previous actions. 
However, have I not atoned? 
I apologized. I-I tried, I called Bailey and told her I couldn’t be what she wanted. I ended it. 
I knew she knew, she told me that night in the car. I had eyes for someone else. 
I couldn’t allow her to destroy what I was working towards. I tried to swallow my frustration. Angel wouldn’t even look at me- I felt like I could die right here.  I was sitting on the couch with my arms resting along the back of it, eyes watching Y/N’s every move as she talked with Davis. 
Until Bailey fell onto the couch next to me. “I-I thought I haad a driinkie for you.” 
My jaw ticked as I ran a hand over it. “Bailey, I’m sorry, but you weren’t invited.”
“Wha-what does,” she hiccuped. “That mean?”
I moved towards the other end of the couch to give us more space. “Bailey, I left you a voicemail!” 
“I haven’t checked it! I have like 20 messages,” she waved me off before drinking from her cup. 
“Bailey-.” 
A mutual friend of Orie’s came by with a tray of shot glasses, one that Bailey reached for. 
“Oh! Shots!”
Quickly, I pushed away the tray from her and dismissed the friend, stating we were fine and didn’t need anything to drink. 
“Noah!” Bailey whined while cupping my face. “Why’d youuu do that? I’m thirsty!” 
I smacked her hand away as gently as I could. “You’re drunk, Bailey. You’ve had enough.” 
She, of course, ignored me and was fast on her feet to stumble into the kitchen. “I’m gonna go get another!”
A look of great bitterness swept across my face when I approached Bailey again and attempted to get her to leave. “Bailey, let me call you an Uber. You need to go.”
“Noah!” 
She tried to push me away but ended up crashing into the kitchen counter, knocking over the vast variety of alcohol. The loud noise caught the attention of everyone around; Y/N watching Bailey with a look of disdain, never once looking into my eyes. I curbed the way my heart fell to my stomach only because I couldn’t focus on the pain. 
I needed to get Bailey out of here.
“I missed you,” she slurred while running a finger down my chest. “I miss the way you fucked me. Can we try again?” 
I threw her arms off of me as she tried to wrap them around my neck. “No, Bailey, whatever this was is finished. You need to go.”
“We need to talk right now, mother fucker,” Chase spat as he gripped my eblow to drag me to a far corner of the living room, away from prying ears. 
“Man, not now,” I ripped my arm from him. “I’m fucking busy trying to diffuse this situation.” 
“Bailey is drunk, Noah! What the fuck!” Chase ran a hand over his buzzed head. “You’re going to do this? Now? We fucking talked about this! What did I tell you? Get it together or leave my sister alone.” 
He roughly pushed my shoulder and I took a deep breath to keep myself calm. From the moment Bailey showed up tonight, I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and there was nothing I could do to stop it; breathing be damned. 
“STOP!” I suddenly snapped, earning a few stares from people around us. 
Nick R. went to step forward as he leaned against the wall with Nadia but I was quick to wave him off. I refused to ruin their night. His girlfriend was in town for the first time in a long time so the last thing they needed was to deal with my drama. 
“Fuck!” I spoke. “I did! I fucking broke it off, it’s over! Bailey just fucking showed up! And I’d hate for her to drive and die. I do not need that shit on my conscious.” 
“Noah-,” Malcolm stepped up next to Chase.
“I swear to fucking Hades himself, if you tell me to break it off with Bailey, I will lose my shit,” I snapped, the vein in my neck twitching. 
“I’m not,” Malcolm’s voice was even, steady, almost a low whisper because he knew I was seconds away from sheer catastrophe. “Y/N’s fucking hurt, Noah.” 
“I’m-.” I couldn’t even finish my sentence before Chase snapped. 
“I know you’re fucking sorry, alright! But please for the love of fucking Neptune, get rid of her!” 
“Working on it, man,” I reminded him as I turned on my heels to head back into the kitchen but came to a sudden halt. 
Bailey was dragging a guy towards Y/N, her loud shrill voice echoing over the music. 
“Y/N! This was the friend I was talking to you about!” 
Friend? What the fuck? 
The look on Y/N’s face was one of embarrassment and awkwardness. Not many could read someone from across the room but I could. I knew exactly what Y/N was feeling without an utter from her sweet lips; her body always gave her away. 
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JESSE
Oh shit, oh shit. 
If only I had known how tonight was going to go. 
Truth be told, I really wanted everyone out of my fucking house. I wanted to lock Y/N and Noah in the garage, not letting them out until they talked this shit out. Although, depending on what happens next, I might have to.
I leaned against the kitchen sink as I watched with careful eyes as Bailey approached Y/N with some guy in tow. 
“Y/N! This is the friend I was talking about! The one I wanted to introduce you to! Jared, this is Y/N.” 
My gaze snapped over to Noah just in time to see him crush the red solo cup in his hand. 
“Oh, hi. Hello,” Y/N shifted on her feet. 
“Fuck,” Jared licked his lips. “You know you’re really beautiful. You’re a model ain’t you?” 
Y/N cleared her throat. “Musician, actually.”
Something was off with this guy so without them noticing, I took a few steps closer toward Y/N, just in case she needed me to step in. 
“Wow a musician, that’s right! Bailey mentioned something about that. I have heard your band before. Souls Hollow.” Jared snapped as if he found out the answer for a million dollars.
“Hollow Souls”. 
The loud pop of Y/N’s water bottle made me jump slightly as she crushed it between her hands. 
“Right! Well, you have the face and the body for modeling if that’s something you want to get into,” Jared ran a hand through his short hair. 
“No, not my interest or my forte.”
Somehow through her drunken state, Bailey was able to feel the sudden tension and patted the guy's chest. 
“Jared, why don’t you get us a couple of drinks? I need to have some girl talk with, Y/N.” 
Girl talk?
“Girl talk?” Y/N chuckled low.
Once it was the two of them, or so Bailey thought, I leaned forward on the kitchen island to listen better. 
“You know,” Bailey threw her hair over her shoulder. ��It might be good for you to blow off some aggression. He could be a good fuck.” 
“Thank you for your interest in my well-being.” Y/N scoffed, ready to end this conversation, and went to walk past her. 
“I’m just saying. I’d love to be fucked by Noah again, but he hasn’t been interested,” Bailey shrugged while leaning against the counter for support. 
Oh. Fuck. 
Y/N turned swiftly on her heels with a look of pure fury behind those eyes, the ones that drew Noah in that first meeting; something he told me many times before. I could see the hurt behind that fury though. It was clear that Bailey’s words dragged the knife deeper into her heart. But just as quickly as the hurt surfaced, Y/N was quick to close herself off by crossing her arms over her chest with wide eyes, internally going into herself. 
The shit I just heard. Bailey did that on purpose, or she was so far gone on liquor she didn’t realize what she said.
 No, it was both. Bailey came here to hurt Noah, that was obvious.
Daring a glance over to Y/N, I felt my stomach drop at what I saw. While it wasn’t easy for me to read her face all the time, that look was something I’d seen on Noah’s face one too many times. 
She was passed beyond the point of disassociation. 
Silence. 
Y/N was silent. The calm before the storm. 
“Shit, Noah.” I quietly said under my breath as I nearly sped to him. 
He was sitting on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees as they bounced wildly. Even with me approaching him with a fury, Noah’s eyes never left the two women behind me. 
“Noah!” I waved my hand in front of his face. “Noah!” 
“Not now man,” he waved me off, still not looking up at me. 
Following his gaze, my shoulders slumped when I noticed that Jared had returned to Y/N and was trying to hand her a drink; one that she kept refusing.
Noah’s fists were balled tightly underneath his chin, his chest unmoving as if his breath was caught in his throat.
“Yes, now! Fuck, Noah. I need to tell you something.” 
Before I could sit down, Bailey barreled her way past me onto the couch to plop down next to Noah, resting her head on his shoulder. 
“Oh, don’t they look perfect together? I’d say I’m a great fucking matchmaker. Heaven knows she needs to get laid. She’s been so uptight since I’ve met her.” 
Mother fucker. 
All this time and Bailey still couldn’t read the fucking room. 
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NOAH
I shifted my body away from Bailey, her head falling away from my shoulder, as I glared at her. 
“What did you just say?” I was eerily calm even though my heart was in my ears. 
Bailey did her best to fix her hair, trying to make herself presentable. “Y/N looks so good with Jared! I’m so glad I set them up. It seemed like she’d been so lonely since the break up with Trey.” 
Jesse sat next to me. “Noah-.” 
Ignoring him, I kept my hard gaze on the mess of Bailey. “Why do you insist on bringing that asshole up in every conversation?” 
“Why does her love life bother you so much, No-O-ah.” She hiccuped then let out a low belch, the smell rancid.
It disgusted me.
I was beginning to see slight parallels with this. Trey, Bailey, Trey Bailey. Drowning their demons. Once again confirming I will not be like this. I won’t become them. My demons won’t swim.
“Why can’t you mind your own fucking business? You don’t know shit about her or any of us. You think you do because of things you read on a blog?” 
Fuck, Bailey was getting inside my skin and I wanted to scratch it away until it bled. I chewed roughly on the inside of my cheek, doing whatever I could to keep my anger under control. I couldn’t make a scene in front of everyone because of Bailey. 
She took a large gulp of her wine and lazily shrugged. “Trey was a big part of Y/N’s life; I can understand that.”
Jesse reached past me to grab the glass of wine from her since she almost dropped it because of her weak grip. The sound of glass clanking on the table in front of me was a white noise in my ears. 
“Oh, Jo-O-lly,” Bailey whined with a hiccup. “You’re no fun.” 
“Jesse,” he corrected.
She ignored him with a wave of a hand towards Y/N and this friend. “Look at them. Y/N’s so into him.”
My gaze snapped over to Y/N expecting to see her all over this guy but breathed a little easier to see that there was a decent amount of space between them and her arms were crossed over her chest. 
She was closing herself off from the conversation but ever the sweetheart, Y/N couldn’t find the way to end it.
“Hopefully, they’ll fuck. I mentioned to Y/N that we did as girl talk, so maybe she finally will too!” 
My eyes doubled in size as my head whipped back to her, heart now leaping out of my fucking throat. All the noise around me fell away, the only thing I could hear was two words. 
You’re fucked.  
“You fucking told her we had sex?” I spat through clenched teeth. 
“It was girl talk, Noah. You’re freaking out about nothing,” Bailey rolled her eyes. 
Terror washed over me because there was absolutely no fucking way she told Y/N. 
“She did. I was right there,” Jesse informed, almost as if he could read my mind. 
The fine hairs at the back of my neck rose as the anger now ran through me in waves. 
Bailey told her. She fucking told her. 
Fuck!
My hands raked through my hair, ripping it from the low bun, and I vibrated with rage. 
I should have told Y/N right after it happened. I shouldn’t have let it drag on this long. It would have hurt coming from me, yes, but now that Bailey was the one to tell her, I knew it was eating away inside of Y/N. 
Idiot. 
Idiot. 
Asshole. 
Fucking bitch. 
My heart continued to pound rapidly in my ears. I wanted to scream; the sudden shock made my muscles tense. Innate fear was instinctive and hard-wired into my brain.
This kept fucking happening. Every time I thought Y/N and I were getting somewhere, something fucking came crashing into it. How did we go from almost kissing upstairs in my bedroom to now? She ignored me as another man was practically drooling at the sight of her. 
Mine. She’s mine. She’s always been mine. 
This feeling that burned low in my gut involved a fight-or-flight response triggered by a perceived threat; Bailey. 
I hated myself more than I had in a long time. 
A sudden thought crossed my mind which made me blow out a shaky breath. Was I the threat?
No. I broke it off. 
Fuck this.
“Oh,” Bailey’s voice was sad. “I hope Jared won't mind Y/N’s scar, though. I never had the chance to warn him.”
“Excuse me?” I fumed, nostrils flaring. 
How she continued to misread the room appalled me. 
“Well, I noticed her scar during the pool day. It’s a nasty one. I can't believe she deals with that endo bullshit,” Bailey sympathized. 
“Endometriosis,” I corrected but then shook my head with the sudden realization. “How do you know about that?” 
“Why does it matter, Noah?” She shifted uncomfortably. 
The only people who knew about Y/N’s scar beside herself were Malcolm, Chase, and me. It was a very sore subject for her, something she didn’t want brought up. It was from a procedure she had years ago, one to remove a thin layer of tissue that lined her uterus to help with her heavy bleeding. 
I never noticed the scar however during our night together. My mind was elsewhere. I never paid attention to that, it could have been a stretch mark for all I knew. I was a little too occupied tasting her to care. So enamored in her, so thankful just to have every inch of her at all that night that I didn’t see it as an imperfection on her. 
And I never would. 
“It fucking does matter, Bailey!” I roared. 
Jesse’s hand rested on my shoulder, his soft touch easing the rage slightly. However, out of the corner of my eye, something else caught the attention of my rage. 
Bile rose in my throat as I watched Jared’s slimy fingers graze down Y/N’s bare arm towards the silver chain on her wrist; the bracelet I bought her. He twirled it between his fingers before flicking it away with a look of distaste. Y/N yanked her arm away from him, holding her wrist close to her chest. 
My nostrils flared as my shoulders went rigid, my body going taught. Something cold and wet dripped onto my lips and the copper taste was bitter on my tongue. I could feel my increasing heart rate, the blood rushing in and out through my ears. I swallowed thickly with my dry mouth, producing no saliva. 
My clenched fists were aching, I was sure to leave half-crescent marks on my palms. My jaw was tight as if it was wired shut and my gums must have been bleeding. I could taste it in my mouth as one simple thought continued to repeat in my mind. 
Destroy. He’s touching what’s yours. 
I could do it, it’d be so easy. 
This piece of shit dared to look at something I gave Y/N with distaste and it made me bare my teeth. 
“Fuck, Noah. Are you alright?” Jesse’s concern brought me back from seeing red. “Your nose is bleeding.”
I wiped my palm over my nose. “Is it?” 
Crimson smeared all over my hand. 
Fuck. 
With every step back Y/N took, this guy followed in an attempt to close the distance between them. A muscle in her jaw ticked as her brows furrowed, eyes darting around the room to look for someone. 
Chase and Malcolm were in the front yard with others playing one of the yard games Steven brought. Everyone else was scattered throughout the house which meant I was closest to her. 
Perhaps this fear of loss is only proof of my love for Y/N, one that she will always depend on. The curse is the blessing. Blessed with a curse. Love is tough, but I’m tough enough. I needed to get to Y/N and get to her now.
Bolting to my feet, I moved like lighting and did not listen to Jesse’s protests as I reached Y/N in a few wide strides. 
Even though she was angry at me, Y/N’s eyes lit up with relief as she saw me only for a moment. 
“Everything alright?” I asked while standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her. 
Jared motioned towards Y/N. “I’m trying to get your beautiful friend from Sollows to go out with me.”
I ground my teeth while taking a step towards him.  “It’s Hollow Souls. Hollow. Souls. You don’t even fucking know her band's name. Get the hell out of here.”
“Noah!” Y/N jeered from behind me. 
“All I’m asking for is one date, dude. She’s hard to break down to agree,” Jared shook his head. 
I stood toe to toe with this asshole, my words stone cold and stern so he understood completely. “She isn't available!”
“Really?” He scoffed while stuffing his hands in his pockets. “That’s not what your girlfriend told me. Why do you care so much about who Y/N talks to?” 
“Bailey isn’t my girlfriend; not anymore. I broke up with her days ago, it’s not my fucking problem that she can't understand it,” I reiterated for what seemed like the tenth time today. 
“Why is she here then?” Y/N muttered behind me. 
Ignoring her, I continued to stand tall in between her and Jared. 
“So again, Y/N isn’t available,” I repeated. 
“Really?” Jared chuckled. 
“Yeah, dude. Really.” 
One step closer to him. 
He outstretched his arms. “I don’t see anyone around to claim her.”
I despised the way he was talking about Y/N; someone that was mine. 
“She isn’t a fucking object,” I hissed. 
I studied him with unforgiving judgment, an icy stare bored into him, making it hard not to back away.  I gripped the glass I had in my hand. My first thought was to throw it to the floor and smash it, but I knew if I did that, I wouldn’t stop until every glass in the cupboard was in shards and Jared’s face was pushed into it. 
Violence never solved anything. I had to remind myself that this is not what I am. Not what Y/N would want. I had to keep my composure at best. I had to.
I also would never want to incite fear in Y/N. Never. I knew she wasn’t into him, but I couldn’t help but notice sleazy Jared letting his eyes roam her entire body, as much as she tried to hide herself away. His eyes went to her exposed legs, the colorful and detailed drawings on her right one. 
 I didn’t like that. 
Y/N’s smooth skin. Her perky, round, and full chest was probably what caught Jared’s attention in the first place. At this moment, he became just another enemy. But nobody, not even him, was going to try and take Y/N away from me. Not when she was mine. I wanted her all for myself.
I inhaled and exhaled so harshly; like a fucking  bull ready to charge
“I’m not saying she is an object. All I’m saying is-.”
“Yeah, I know what you’re fucking saying,” I barked “And I’m telling you Y/N isn’t available. She’s with me.” 
Jared snickered. “If that’s the case then why did she spend the last ten minutes talking to me.” 
“I’m right fucking here!” Y/N screamed while pushing past me to now step between us. “Stop acting like I’m not!” 
Jared went to reach for her which prompted me to wrap an arm around her shoulder, ready to lead her away. 
“We need to talk; let’s go upstairs,” I begged with wide eyes. 
She hastily removed my arm from her. “No, fuck you! I have nothing to say to you. This conversation is over.” 
“The hell it is,” I snapped while running my hands through my hair. “This isn’t over until we talk into the light. Please, angel. Let's go upstairs.” 
Y/N pushed my chest. “Oh, you want to talk now? You’re bored with Bailey so yet again, I’m your second option?”
Jared shifted on his feet. “Am I missing something here?”
I glared at him over my shoulder. “Yeah, none of this concerns you. Fuck off.”
“Noah!” Y/N chastised. “STOP IT!” 
My head snapped back to her. “No, don’t Noah me. We need to talk! Without this asshole.” 
“Fuck you, man!” 
Jared went to reach for me but I was a hair faster than him, pushing him back into the kitchen island. By now, our little argument caught the attention of almost everyone in the house, and the music ceased, an eerie silence falling around us. 
“Don’t you ever put your fucking hands on me or Y/N.” I seethed, my chest rising and falling with each deep breath.  
So many different gazes burned into me but I didn’t give a shit about the scene. The only thing I cared about was Y/N. 
“Angel, please can we-,” I turned back around just in time to see her bolt up the stairs, away from everyone. 
“Shit,” I muttered while bounding up the stairs two at a time to catch her. 
As I reached the landing upstairs, I caught her frame slipping into the bathroom but before I could reach her, the door slammed in my face. 
“Y/N,” my voice was soft as my knuckles tapped against the door. 
“Leave me alone!” She choked on a sob, it echoing through the wood
My forehead rested against the wall next to the bathroom, the rage and anger that consumed me minutes prior suddenly faded into the void, my heart only feeling one emotion; despair. I needed to feel Y/N in my embrace. I needed to console her and assure her that everything would be okay. 
We will be okay. 
“Noah, what the fuck was that man?” Davis demanded. 
Turning my body around, I leaned against the wall with pure exhaustion and ran my hands over my face; images of Jared’s hands all over Y/N were clear in the darkness. 
“He was touching her,” I chewed out. “His hands were-fuck!”
I pushed myself off the wall and began pacing up and down the hall, right in front of my bedroom. 
Davis watched with his hands on his hips. “You need to pull it together. What the fuck was that downstairs?! Why hasn’t Bailey left yet? I thought you ordered her an Uber?”
“I’ve been trying!” I snapped while coming to a halt. 
But when I saw the look on his face, I sighed while pinching my nose. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to snap at you but I’m just so tired of being accused tonight of shit that’s out of my control. 
“It’s alright, man,” Davis reassured me. 
“Fuck, where’s Chase? Or Malcolm? Maybe they can talk Y/N out of the bathroom.” I suggested. 
“Chase is pissed. Malcolm had to hold him back to keep him from coming up here to kick your ass.” 
With my hands on the ledge, I peered over it to see that Davis was telling the truth. Malcolm had Chase pinned against the front door, arms on each side of him in a way to lock him in a makeshift cage. It helped that Malcolm was a bit bigger than Chase so he couldn’t push past him, which I was thankful for because his usual bright eyes were dark with hatred. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about up here but I knew with the way Chase pointed up at me and the vein in his forehead throbbing that it wasn’t good. Malcolm rested a hand on Chase’s cheek, the latter immediately relaxing in the former’s touch.
“I never meant for this to happen,” I blew out a shaky breath, doing my best to keep my tears at bay. 
It wasn’t fucking fair. I did everything right so why was it coming back to bite me in the ass?
“I know,” Davis stepped up beside me to lay a hand on my shoulder. “I fucking know this is killing you right now. But you have to move past this. Y/N doesn’t deserve this side of you. And frankly, neither do you.” 
“I know I said I can wait for years if I have to, Davis. But fuck, I want us right now! I can’t see anything else but Y/N.  I want her with me! I want all of her forever. It’s her and me I-.” 
A sob crawled its way out of my throat.  "I want all of her. Forever.” 
“It’s okay, Noah,” he rubbed my back in smoothing circles. “It may not seem like it right now but I promise you, it will be okay.” 
The soft click of the bathroom sounded loud in the hallway upstairs but when I turned towards it with a hopeful smile, it faltered when Y/N whipped past us, her hair flowing behind her in waves. 
“Angel.” 
I reached for her, only for Y/N to rip farther away from me, and retreat downstairs. 
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READER
Tears fell from my eyes as I hid behind my hair, heels reaching the bottom of the stairs. While my heart beat rapidly in my chest, my mind screamed one thing in my mind over and over again. 
You need to leave. Get out. Get out. 
I looked around with frantic eyes for Chase and Malcolm, knowing that I wasn’t in the best state of mind to drive. By now, the vast group of people that came for the party had dispersed only leaving our small group of friends. Instead, my gaze locked with Nick R’s and I nearly sobbed at the sight of him. I needed some sort of comfort from someone and it didn’t matter who it was; as long as it wasn’t Noah. 
Before I could make my way over towards Nick R., a vice grip wrapped around my elbow to spin me around. 
“You couldn’t stay away, could you?!” Bailey’s nails dug into my skin. 
I hissed. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” 
“Noah could have moved on with me! I could have made him so happy!” Her words slurred together, the heavy stench of alcohol on her breath. “But no, every time I was with him, there you were! You couldn’t fucking leave him alone!” 
The tears tasted bitter on my tongue. “Excuse me?”
Bailey chuckled dryly, barely able to keep herself up on two feet.  “You’re his fucking ghost. You’re here all the time. It’s a good thing I showed up tonight. I followed my gut. But I don’t know what hurts worse; you and Noah sneaking around behind my back or-.” 
“We-.” 
She stuck up a finger to hush me. “Behind my back or you both lying about your feelings for each other to my face. You’ve been in love this whole fucking time and I was only a pawn in this story.”
I slowly shook my head, suddenly feeling guilty. It was true, even though we didn’t want to admit it, but she was a pawn. An innocent person caught in the crossfire of a tangled mess of soulmates. 
“Bailey.”
“No!” She screamed with her own tears. “What also hurts is that I can’t blame you! I can’t! But I truly don’t know how you’re going to be able to give him anything he needs.” 
Pure venom filled her eyes; a snake ready to snap at its prey. “I-I don’t-I know everything and I can’t help but feel sorry for you. I know how hard it will be for you to have a child. How do you think Noah feels about that? You’re taking away his chance of having a family, any chance of normalcy!” 
I nearly stumbled back, being smacked in the face with her words, and I blinked rapidly at her. “Wh-How do you know?” 
Bailey ignored me by throwing up her hands. “So take him! Noah is all yours. You two fucking deserve each other.”
My eyes now sliced into her. “How the fuck do you know about that, Bailey?”
“He’ll never love me like he loves you, and it’s selfish of you to keep throwing him away.” She yet again avoided my question. “He wouldn’t touch me, never. Especially when you were around. Only that one time but all he thought about was you.”
“I’m not! You don’t know a fucking thing! Noah doesn’t love me! He doesn’t.” I bellowed as loud footsteps came running down the steps. 
Noah’s frantic face pleaded for me to stay, to listen, but I refused; I was done with this entire day and wanted to leave. 
“I’m leaving,” I said, turning on my heels. 
“Angel, please wait!” Noah reached for me, yet again.
“Hang on,” Bailey stepped in front of him, blocking his path to me. “Y/N is Angel?” 
I didn’t bother hearing the excuse Noah came up with. My only path was the front door where Nick R. stood, waiting for me with it wide open.
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Somewhere an hour outside of Cheston, South Carolina in a nursing home, a resident named Duke was so enamored with the elderly woman that sat beside him. He read to her every day about a story of love, loss, and the power to fight for love.
“Did they love each other?” The woman asks, brushing away the graying strands of her hair.
Duke closed the book and smiled. “They didn’t agree on much. In fact, they didn’t agree on anything. They fought all the time and challenged each other every day. But despite their differences, they had one important thing in common. They were crazy about each other.”
The older lady rested deeper into her chair, a faint smile on her lips.“I like these kinds of stories,” 
“Yeah? Me too.” Duke smiled at her and set the book on the table in front of them. “Somewhere out there, I’m sure this exists. It did for me.”
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THIRD PERSON POV
“Leave me alone!” Y/N screamed over her shoulder to Noah who was following on her heels. 
He let her walk away so many previous times and he was done letting the cycle continue. 
“You’re not leaving!” Noah ordered, his voice echoing into the night air. 
Chase and Malcolm, who were sitting on the front porch, watched the entire scene unfold in front of them. Chase wanted to intervene, still reeling from what happened before the party ended but Malcolm held him in place with a hand on his knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 
“They need to figure this out on their own, Chase. We can’t keep helping them.” 
Davis and Matt also wanted to intervene as they watched through the large window in the living room. They wanted to help, but even they shook their heads. 
“This is it. The dam broke and it’s about fucking time,” Matt said while leaning against the wall next to the window. 
“Let them hash it out. This is going to be cathartic for both of them.” Davis said while peaking through the curtains. 
Steven almost popped out of nowhere with a sigh. “Here we go.” 
Suddenly, the dark sky above cracked with a bright light, rain immediately falling from the clouds and soaking Noah and Y/N as they continued their stare off in his driveway. 
“Have you been paying attention to anything happening?!” Y/N accused, wet strands of hair clinging to her face. 
“No, I guess not!” Noah retorted back. “I must have misread every fucking signal!” 
“Guess you did!” Y/N scoffed while turning back on her heels, the loud clicking being muted by the sounds of the onslaught of rain and thunder. 
When she opened the door to her car, Noah was quick to slam it shut. “You’re bored! You know it and we wouldn’t keep doing this if something wasn’t missing! But you don’t fucking get it!” 
“Get what?” Y/N questioned while trying to open the door again. 
Noah slammed it shut again, not allowing her to leave.  “WHY?! Why am I not worthy?” 
As he screamed those words a few more times, his despair was heard by everyone inside the house who watched with broken eyes, the yellow hue of the street lamp casting him in his own angelic aura. 
Y/N’s lips mimicked a fish out of the water, despite being drowned under the rain
“This whole fucking thing of hot and cold with you!  You’re being a pain in the ass!” Noah rested his arm on the top of her car, bright eyes burning into hers. 
Her eyes bulged out of her head and she gave a hard shove to his chest. “Excuse me? You arrogant son of a bitch, you tell me all this shit! I sit there and tolerate this distraction of yours, who sits there and tells me little theories and fucking intrusive bull shit. She pries into parts of my life; parts she shouldn’t know!” 
Noah’s face softened, immediately knowing what Y/N was referring to. “I didn’t tell her, Y/N. I swear to Hades, I didn’t tell Bailey about your endometriosis.”
“Then how does she know? It’s not public knowledge!”
He tried to reach for her but Y/N pushed him away with yet another hard shove. “Don’t fucking touch me!” 
Chase went to bolt outside into the onslaught of the storm to protect his sister but Malcolm was quick to bring him back inside. Unfortunately, this wasn’t their fight anymore. It was up to Noah and Y/N. 
“Angel, please,” Noah begged with a trembling lip. “Come back inside so we can talk about this.” 
Y/N ripped her hands through her hair. “There’s nothing to talk about, Noah! Don’t you get it?! We keep running in circles with no positive outcome. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t.” 
They both were drenched, limbs shivering from the cold wind and rain, but neither of them made the first move to falter; to end this fight. 
“Stop acting like I don’t care about you; about us!” Noah snapped. 
“I never said you didn’t! If anything I felt the same way you fucking idiot! I-I’m-.” 
The words died from her lips, unable to finish her sentence due to the fear of Noah not feeling the same. 
“You what?” He urged while taking a step towards her. 
Y/N wildly shook her head as her make up ran down her face, staining her cheeks and neck in mascara. 
“I-I can’t.” Y/N pressed her palm into her forehead. 
“Yes, you can,” Noah licked his lips in anticipation. “Fuck, Y/N! YOU WHAT?!”
“I’m in love with you! Okay?! I fucking love you.” Y/N turned on her heels to walk down the driveway but stopped, quickly turning to Noah. 
Everyone inside the house gasped, all looking at each other. 
“Did she?” Folio wondered. 
Malcolm had a hint of a smile on his lips. “Yeah, she did.” 
“You always just pretend that everything is fine when it’s not!” She pointed a firm finger at him.  “Then you stand there and have the right to say I’m the pain in the ass? Fuck you, Noah! I’m so tired of you pretending that you don’t have feelings for me.” 
Noah’s eyes widened with furrowed brows and his jaw slacked. “You-You-’re-wait!”
He shook his head in disbelief but then confusion etched over the features of his face. “I’m pretending? I’ve been trying to tell you for months! But I don’t know how to do any of this, okay? These feelings are new for me and I don’t know how to deal with them!”
“This isn’t going to work,” Y/N sobbed while holding her arms close to her chest, whether it was due to the cold or to protect herself from the feelings, no one but her was sure. 
Noah gapped at her. “We haven’t even started anything! And I’m fucking sorry about everything and Bailey! I’m so fucking sorry! I should have never even walked into the record shop that day. My head was a mess after seeing your instagram post and I lost it.” 
“Wait,” Y/N shook her head. “What Instagram post?” 
Noah ran a hand on the back of his neck. “The one you posted in Japan. I-I thought you found someone there that could get you actual ramen.” 
Y/N couldn’t help but internally snicker at that but the anger and hurt she felt outweighed that glimmer of humor. 
“So you dated someone because you misunderstood a fucking Instagram post?!” She pushed Noah once again. 
However this time, he grasped her hands so she couldn’t pull away. He held them against the beating pulse underneath his soaked shirt. 
They were exactly alike. In every aspect. Mannerisms, interests, and their souls were the same. Which is why they always seemed to find their way back to one another, no matter the outcome. 
“Just fucking stay with me, Y/N! Stay till the morning and we can figure this shit out. Please,” Noah begged with trembling lips. 
“Stay with you?” Y/N pushed away then pointed between them. “Look at us, Noah! All we’ve been doing is bickering and fighting!” 
“Well that’s what we do. We fight. You tell me when I am being an arrogant son of a bitch and I tell you when you’re being a pain in the ass. Which you are, 99 percent of the time. I’m not afraid to hurt your feelings. You have like a 2 second rebound rate, then you’re back doing the next pain-in-the-ass thing!”
By now, the rain was a terrental down pur, branches of the trees swaying widely in the wind as the sky cracked loudly with lightning and thunder; it shook both Y/N and Noah to their bones. 
“So what?” Y/N scoffed. “Why does it matter to you?”
“Because I fucking love you, angel!” Noah blurted out. 
He planned on telling her how he really felt from the moment the feelings clawed their way to the surface but something always managed to get in the way of it. But here, now, outside his house with all of their friends watching, he admitted it to her. 
And he’d spend the rest of his days shouting from the rooftops his love for his angel. 
“This shit is hard for me. I’m being vulnerable, but fuck, man” Noah pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling and exhaling his breaths; like Dr. Poulos had told him to do so. 
Y/N gazed up at him with a fixed gaze unable to move. “What?” 
The onlookers had their ears peeled to their spots, doors and open cracks of the windows.
“Oh thank the gods.” Michael breathed out
“Fuck!” A low clap from Jesse.
Noah stood no less than a few inches apart from Y/N and his arms fell to his sides. 
“I love you! I’ve loved you since I heard your fucking voice for the first time through my Ipod that night on Nick’s couch. The first day of the tour when I got off that bus.” 
Y/N’s bottom lip quivered. “You love me too?” 
“Yes, angel. I want all of you, you and me! Will you do something for me, please? Just picture your life for me? Five, ten years from now. What does it look like? If it’s not with me then, go. Go!” 
Noah smacked the hood of Y/N’s car. “I lost you once. Shit, twice. I think I can do it again. If I thought that’s what you really wanted. But don’t you take the easy way out.”
Chase, yet again bolted up from his spot from in front of the window, ready to run outside to protect his sister but now it was Nick R. who stopped him. 
“Move,” Chase spat through gritted teeth. 
Nick R. shook his head with a stern face. “We can’t intervene anymore. This has to be between them and them alone.” 
“He’s getting violent! Noah just punched her car!” Chase yelled, not bothering the sleeping drunk on the couch behind him. 
Nick R. stood his ground. “We all know that Noah would never put his hands on Y/N.” 
Reluctantly, Chase nodded with a long sigh. “I know, I know. He might be your brother but she’s my sister. I’m just tired of seeing the same scene unfold between them.” 
Malcolm gently reached for Chase’s hand and brought him back to the far corner they were seated in. 
A loud crack of thunder made Y/N jump closer towards Noah, who instinctively reached for her but held back, not wanting to push her farther than she could handle. 
“What easy way, Noah? This isn’t easy!” Y/N sighed. “None of this is easy!” 
“No it is, actually.” Noah nodded. “Don’t think about anyone or anything else. What do you want from me? What do you want, angel?”
She rapidly shook her head, choking on a sob. “It’s not that simple.”
“What. Do. You. Want?” Noah enunciated every word with a pound fist to his chest. 
When Y/N remained silent, Noah grasped her face to bring her into his warm embrace, even with the rain. “God damn it! What do you want?”
Her eyes darted between Noah’s and her bottom lip caught between her teeth. He watched as she swallowed thickly, anxiously awaiting her answer. 
“I think-,” Y/N stumbled over her words. “I need to clear my head right now.”
Noah’s shoulders drop, disappointment clear on his face. “Are we doing that? Are we back there? What about everything we feel? What about everything that happened hours ago and beyond that. It happened, you know. They’re going to keep fucking happening. We belong together, Y/N.”
The grip on her cheeks tightened, his thumb brushing away the tears or rain, he couldn’t tell, from her cheeks only smearing her make up even more. 
“No! I don’t want to go back there. Noah,” she shook her head the best she could in his tight grasp. “I-I need to grasp all of this! But there’s one thing I know for sure; it’s always been you, Noah.” 
The crushing weight around his heart lifted at hearing her words. Noah’s thumb brushed along her cheek bone. 
“I can stay away if you want me to, but I don’t want to. I know you don’t want me to,” he whispered. 
Y/N whimpered while holding onto his wrists with a tight grip. “I love you, Noah. It was never really over for me.”
“It wasn't over and it still isn’t over,” Noah declared while crashing his lips to hers, locking her into place against her car with his hips. 
Moving fast, sensual, soft and moist and hot and breathy, not trying to win a battle but seeking union and closeness and the sharing of one breath. One sensation. One timeless and passionate moment. Their hearts were electric as the familiar scars faded with their lips upon each other.
The heat rose in Y/N cheeks as her tongue touched Noah’s, quick and electric and delicious, then firmer, more determined. More curious about the heat that lay within, seeking to chase down that elusive liquid lightning that reached through both of them. 
His hands were so soft despite the callous’ on his fingertips. Holding her face so delicately but with pressure.
The others in the house felt as if they should look away, however, given the rollercoaster they were on, they earned a peek at what their inner hearts also yearn for.
Noah’s hips pressed deeper into Y/N and he swallowed her moan, drinking in every part of her that he craved all this time. Her hands tangled through the strands of his hair, secretly reveling at the length. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Noah could pull off any haircut but deep down, she was thankful that the moment she met him, his hair cascaded to his back in glorious dark waves. 
She pulled on the lapels of his leather jacket to bring him closer, her teeth grazing over his bottom lip. 
“Angel,” he moaned into her mouth. 
“Mochi,” she breathed when his cock pressed against her heated core. 
The storm suddenly ceased as soon as their lips met, thunder and lightning no longer. 
There was a commotion coming from inside the house, one that went unnoticed by the two forms molding together; their souls connecting in a way that they so desperately needed.  
“Noah!”
He pulled away from Y/N, hands still on her face and lips parted, drops of the rain falling into his mouth. One more quick kiss upon those bruised lips, he looked up towards Jesse. 
“You have to deal with Bailey.” He said with a stern face. “Now.”
Cursing under his breath, Noah looked back to Y/N. “Don’t leave, alright? Give me a few minutes to deal with her. But I promise, we’re going to finish this.” 
Y/N sniffled while wiping away the rain and make up from her face, giving him a slow nod. 
With one final peck, savoring the sweet taste on her lips, Noah bounded up  the yard with Jesse in tow. However, Nick R. met him half way. 
“I know,” Noah held up his hand. “I’m dealing with it now.” 
“Good,” Nick R. nodded. “Because Bailey locked herself in the bathroom and won’t leave until you talk to her.
However, unbeknownst to Jesse and Noah who slipped back inside, Bailey managed to exit through the back door unseen. She had her gaze on one person, making a beeline towards her. 
“Like I said, you can’t stay away from him!” Bailey screamed. 
Y/N was touching her lips softly, as she remembered the kiss, but looked towards Bailey as she stormed into her. Nick R. was ready to head back inside with the rest of them but as soon as he saw Bailey push Y/N into her car, he quickly changed his path. He couldn’t leave the two of them alone, not when Bailey was drunk and actions were unknown. 
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NICK R
I hung back off to the side but not too far as I watched Bailey and Y/N finally have words with each other. 
“You ruined everything!” Y/N brushed Bailey off of her, standing her ground. “This party was for Chase but you couldn’t handle your fucking booze as usual and had to run your mouth!”
“All you had to do was stay away! Why couldn’t you let Noah be happy?” Bailey accused. 
Oh, please. The only time the last time I’d seen Noah happy was when he was with Y/N. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Y/N scoffed with a dry chuckle. “You were the one that was brought into something you couldn’t understand.” 
Something flashed in Bailey’s eyes which made me stand taller in attention. I’ve read the signs. I’ve heard them before. That’s what Bailey didn’t understand. This wasn’t a fling, or a feeling of empty love lost. This was something created by a force no one was sure existed. This wasn’t anyone’s intention. They can’t be apart for too long, the anguish will swallow them whole.
When passion generates within the relationship flows into other areas of life. Bailey disrespected my friend. My best friend’s other half. That just wouldn’t do. 
She could yell, scream, and curse the ground Y/N walked on. It wouldn’t change anything. It will never change the course this is. 
It’s always Noah and Y/N.
“You want to talk about things you don’t understand? You’re delusional if you think your band can hack it without Trey. He was probably in his right mind to leave and do his own thing.” 
Fuck. 
I gazed over towards Y/N and my stomach fell at the broken expression on her face. 
Bailey continued her onslaught, not caring how deep her words were cutting. Noah told me months ago how fucked up Trey was and how long it took Y/N to over come how far he dug himself into her mind. 
“You guys want to be innovative! And be the next big thing but guess what, you’re just going to fall on your face. I got news for you, next time I see your record? Clearance it goes.” 
Y/N took a step forward which in turn made me reach and arm out to keep the space. Her eyes flashed to mine but with a curt nod from me, I allowed her to continue what she was going to say. 
“You don’t know shit about my life or my music,” she hissed with venom. “What, because you read some blogs online and work in a music shop you think you know what’s best?”
Bailey tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I don’t need to know the little details. I know just enough to know you’re never going to make it and you’re gonna ruin Noah’s life.”
“News flash Bailey,  I’ve already fucking made it. With or without Trey, Hollow Souls is where it’s at because of me.” 
Y/N stabbed a finger into her own chest and I couldn’t help the proud smile that played on my lips. 
“And it will continue to thrive because of me. And Malcolm. And chase. Not some girl's opinion who thinks she knows everything because she’s been in our inner circle for all of two months.” 
Bailey opened her mouth to retort but Y/N pushed past my arm so she could get right into her face. 
“I would rather chew concrete than ruin Noah’s life. I love him, I’ve loved him for a long fucking time and fuck you for thinking I’m going to allow you or anyone to intervene. Never again.” 
With a hand on Y/N’s lower back, I motioned towards the house. “Bailey, I think you’re done here. 
All the fight that Bailey had left in her seemed to falter and reluctantly, she turned to retreat back into the house. To do what, it didn’t matter to me. I needed to make sure Y/N was alright. 
“Hey,” I finally forced her to look at me. “Are you alright?” 
“Uh,” she let out a shaky breath while wrapping her arms around herself, shivering. “No. I’m not. It’s been a shit night.” 
“Do you want me to see if Nadine has some clothes for you? Get you out of those wet clothes?” I offered. 
Y/N shook her head. “No, it’s alright. I think I’m going to leave.” 
My stomach dropped for Noah, knowing that he wished for her to stay. But I wouldn’t force Y/N to stay. But what I could do was give her some sense of reassurance. 
“You want to know something cheesy? Something- a little too cliche?” I asked.
“What’s that?” Y/N sniffled with a slight chuckle 
I leaned against the car next to her, both of us staring up at the sudden clear sky; stars sparkling upon us. 
“The reason why it hurts so much is because your souls are connected.”
“Nicholas-.” Y/N started. 
I turned towards her now.  “No. No, I’ve been studying up on things like this, purely out of fun; Well, interest? Maybe genuine boredom but that detail doesn't matter. I’ve watched you both for a while now and it’s clear the two of you were always meant to find one another. I thought this kind of shit only existed in books. Turns out, I’ve watched it happen to my best friend. Noah found you. You’re his other half.” 
She sobbed quietly. “And he’s mine.”
“Yeah,” I nodded with a smile. “He fucking smiles with you, you know. He laughs with you. You mean everything to him. I’ve known this kid since he was 12-.” 
“Did Noah put you up to this?” Y/N questioned.
I shook my head. “No he didn’t tell me to talk to you but as his brother I needed to.”
“I just need-I need a space from this right now, just to get my head together.” Y/N said after a few beats of silence. 
I had some reservations about that, ones that I  made clear as I opened her car door for her, letting her drop in with a huff of a breath. 
“It didn’t work out so well the last time you two had space. So please don’t wait too long, Y/N. One friend to another,  I’m begging you, please, don’t break him. You both love each other. Noah can’t stay away from you and you can’t either.” 
“I know, Nick, I know. I love him, I- just-,” she rested against her head rest.
I lent in her car to start it, quickly turning on the heat, before leaning over the open door once again. 
“Work on your record. Get all this angst out. But don’t make him wait forever,” I said.
“It won’t be, I promise,” Y/N smiled up at me. It was weak and faint but it was there. “Can you tell him I had to go but we’ll talk soon.” 
I buckled her seatbelt, making sure she was safe. “I will. I’ll let Malcolm and Chase know you left too.” 
“Thank you, Nicholas.” 
“Oh Y/N?” I hesitated before shutting the door. 
Broken but hopeful eyes stared up at me. “Hm?” 
“The album release- we’re only a few songs away from mixing and mastering. It’s almost done. Keep an eye out of those deets,” I pointed a playful finger at her.
She smiled again, this time large and bright. “Noted.”
I stood with my hands in my pockets as I watched her pull out of the driveway, giving one final wave as she turned down the block. With a deep breath, I focused my attention on another friend that needed my help. I know that he was dealing with a huge issue inside and he needed to know the truth. 
As I stepped back inside the house, it didn’t surprise me to see that everyone in our inner circle had filled the kitchen as they watched the scene of Noah and Bailey unfold in front of them. 
Chase went to rise to his feet from the kitchen island but I assured him with a tigh smile. 
“She’s okay. She went home,” I mouthed.
That eased Malcolm and Chase only slightly as they went back to watching this mess unfold.
Bailey looked my way but my eyes were locked on Noah and I could see he was one more blow away from breaking. 
It’s intervention time. 
I knew where Noah was headed and it wasn’t good. Bailey let into him, and had no qualms on what she said to Y/N.
If looks could kill.
No scratch that. If Noah could change into a werewolf I think he would. The rage he held in his shoulders was proof enough. 
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NOAH
I felt that rage burning low in my gut again as Bailey stood in front of me. I wanted to kick her out, have her find her own way home, but the good part of me knew that it wasn’t right. She was drunk and it was late, something could happen to her and I couldn’t have that on my conscience. Thankfully while I was outside with Y/N, Matt called Bailey an Uber that was minutes away. 
A few more words and this whole mess would be done and over with. 
“Bailey, you need to tell Noah what you said to Y/N,” Nick said as he came up next to me. 
My eyes snapped up from the old, worn, floors and up to her face. “What is he talking about?” 
She shifted on her feet with hesitation before she explained every mean and hurtful thing she told Y/N tonight; no ounce of regret on her face. 
“How could you say that to her?” I snapped while running a wild hand through my hair. “Why?! You think you know everything but you don’t know a fucking thing. My god, you were one of my biggest mistakes. You need to get the fuck out of my house and life. I’m serious.” 
Except, she ignored me and rested her hands on her hips. “Y/N is Angel?” 
My brow furrowed. “Why the fuck does that matter?” 
“Uh,” Bailey hesitated, fidgeting with her nails. “I thought that’s what you called me because when I saw the contact in your phone-.” 
“What the fuck,” I doubled back, head swirling in disbelief. “You went through my phone?”
A low whistle sounded from the kitchen but I didn’t have to look to see that it came from Matt. 
Betrayal dug its knife deeper into my chest. 
“I-I-just wanted to see what you were hiding-,” Bailey stammered. “I looked through your phone. I had this feeling you were hiding something from me. I thought it was my name but the texts didn’t match up.” 
Suddenly, the little light bulb in my head clicked on. 
“That’s how you know about Y/N’s endometriosis. You saw the group chat with me, Malcolm, and Chase?” 
Bailey remained silent, only nodded to give me an answer. 
“What the fuck, Bailey?! You know how private I am but yet you still went through something of mine!” I began to pace the room, running a hand over my face. 
“I heard the voicemail, Noah! I just thought if we talked it out- I don’t know. We could work it out,” Bailey blew out a shaky breath. 
I came to a halt in front of her. “There’s nothing to work out, Bailey. We're done; finished. You never should have been in the picture to begin with. 
“Noted,” she nodded. “It’s Y/N, isn’t it? It’s always about her! I knew it. I should have followed my gut!” 
A look flashed across her face. “You’ve thought about her..with me didn’t you?” 
Everyone’s eyes landed on me like a burning itch to the back of my neck. 
“Bailey,” I sighed, suddenly done with this conversation.  
“She’s the one, isn’t she?” Bailey questioned, all the anger gone from her eyes and voice. 
There was no use in denying the truth any longer. Y/N and I confessed our love for each other, it was time everyone else knew about it. Although, I’m sure they already did. 
When I finally nodded to Bailey, it hit like a ton of bricks. She said those things, she uttered them. She spit at the face my soul was intertwined with. 
I dare put my angel through this. That’s over now; never again will I put in the crossfires of someone else’s demons. This was my last battle. I could sense Bailey understood, but she wasn’t grasping with the idea that I wasn’t hers. She needed to let go.
There was something in the way I shouted at her earlier, a pain behind it. “How could you speak to her that way?” 
My heart hurt, my hand clutching my chest in anguish. It’s as if I could feel her pain physically. 
Must be a soulmate thing. 
Nicholas watched me, he watched my eyes then he knew. 
The anger was nothing but a shield for pain, like a cornered soldier randomly throwing out grenades, scared for his life, lonely, desperate. I breathed in real slowly. 
What if nothing blew up? What if Bailey just truly didn’t grasp this?
With a deep breath, I rested my hands on my hips. “Bailey. I’m sorry. I wish I could give you what you’re looking for but I can’t.”
Once again my emotions turn jagged and my insides tight.  I waited, wide eyed and heart in my mouth, hoping for kindness, when I explained this again.
“I didn’t want to hurt you. It was never my intention. I sincerely apologize,” I continued. “I fucked up and admit that. It was never supposed to get this far.  I just-I’ll never get over these feelings for her. She’s all I think about. I love her and although I'm not proud you were caught in the crossfire. I’m not sorry for who I love. It’s always her, that’s my angel.”
Finally, a hint of a smile cracked on her stone face. “I already know what this was. There’s a part of you that you kept closed off from everyone, including me. It’s as if I wasn't the one you were really with. Your mind was always on her.”
My face twitched as she cupped my cheek “Don’t let her slip away, Noah. It will be the biggest regret and I don’t want to see it destroy you.”
I gently removed her hand and nodded. “Thank you. Again, I’m sorry.” 
“I apologize for the scene I caused tonight. That wasn't mature of me. I was hurt but this wasn’t fair to any of you,” Bailey began to sober up. “I also owe a big one to Y/N.” 
“Well make sure to let her know.” 
“Uber is here,” Matt shook his phone while walking to the front door, opening it for it. 
With a tight smile, Bailey grabbed her things and quickly ran out the door. Matt, with a two finger salute, kicked the door shut and locked it for good measure. 
“Good fucking riddance,” he muttered under his breath. 
“Wait, Y/N’s still outside,” I shed off my jacket, tossing it on the railing of the staircase. “Let her in.” 
“Noah,” Nick spoke up. “She left.” 
My eyes snapped over to him, heart rate intensifying as my breathing became harsh and ragged. 
“She told me she’d stay,” I swallowed thickly. 
My ears rang with white noise as the room began to close in around me. 
“Don’t panic Noah, I spoke to her,” Nick reassured me with a hopeful smile. 
“But-,” I shook my head. 
“It’s okay. Y/N just needs to work through this. It’s a new phase Noah. You both have to get passed through some shit. You love each other. You are going to be together. Just have some hope.”
Knowing there was nothing I could do at this moment, I nodded and thought about that one word. 
Hope. 
Hope is in the way I feel like I can smile, in the way we are quiet when she can reach out with her eyes. 
Gathering strength to make a better choice, to breathe and let love have a moment to guide me, to guide us.
I knew Y/N needed a little space after this. I knew that, perhaps I needed space as well. To feel love and be loved back. 
We love each other. We love each other. 
I still had a few things I needed to work out, and I think she might too. 
Hope is in that soft shrug of hers, the playfulness of her smile. Every time we reach for the sun.
Maybe when we’re not so different, we will make amends and no longer having to pretend.
Nick’s voice was faltering as I sped up the stairs towards my bedroom where my phone was, still perfectly perched on my desk; almost as if Bailey set it back in the exact spot it was before she looked through it. 
Me: Why’d you leave?
Message Undeliverable. 
“What the fuck?” I muttered while sending another text. 
Me:  I understand you have some things to work on and so do I. But please don’t stray too far, Y/N. I’ll wait for years if I have to. 
Message Undeliverable. 
Fuck. 
There was a chance her phone was off but that didn’t deter me from stopping. 
Me: I love you. 
I breathed out a chuckle when I saw the text bubble turn blue, meaning the text went through. 
Angel 🪽: I love you too, mochi.
The corner of my lips curled up in a smile as that word echoed in my mind again. 
Hope. 
As I stood in front of the bathroom mirror shirtless and a pair of warm gray joggers, sometime after setting my phone back down, I had the scissors on one end of the counter and a buzzer on the other. A soft knock sounded on the opened door and I gave a weak smile to Folio. 
“Are you doing alright?” He questioned while leaning against the doorframe. 
“It hurts, knowing that once again there’s this space between us but the outcome is different this time around. For once, there’s hope.” 
“It’ll be okay man,” he assured me.
“I know.” 
Folio pushed himself off the door frame to hope up on the bathroom counter. “There’s no fucking universe where yall don’t end up together.”
“Thank you for your optimism,” I smiled lightly. 
"It’s true! Somehow in every universe you end up together. Whether you two are married with a son named Kenji or she joins us on the road together after the two of you spend one night together."
My heart fluttered at the sound of those alternate lives. “Kenji? Let me guess-we kick Matt’s ass in Mai tai?”
“Yes, bro!” Folio smacked my chest. “ Y/N is always meant to be there, Noah.” 
I leaned against the opposite wall. “It’s wild how thought out you have this idea of me and Y/N.” 
“Ah, I don’t know,” he shrugged with that goofy smile. “I can see it. There’s other universes out there, you know? I watched this special about it on Discovery+ or some shit.”
“That so?” I raised a brow with a chuckle. 
“Yeah, who knows. But I believe y’all will be.”
We fell in silence for a long beat before it was me who smacked his chest. "Michelle has you watching these specials, huh?”
Folio scoffed while rolling his eyes. “She barely pays attention after she asks to put it on.” 
I couldn't help but laugh, imagining Y/N snoozing on my lap after we watched another episode of I Think You Should Leave. 
“I can’t wait to have that,” I admitted. 
“In time. I promise you. I'm your friend, and I know. Take the time you both need. Heal. I’m a firm believer in patience when you’re trying to catch a good one. Trust me, I’m a fisherman,” Folio grinned while adjusting his fishing cap. 
“Fucking fishboy,” I rolled my eyes with a smile. 
 A hopeful one.
“So what’s with that?” He pointed to the scissors. 
I shrugged while holding the scissors now. “I’ve had all this weight at the back of my neck for years now. I need something new, a breath of fresh air. I’m suffocating. I need to see the back of my fucking neck, man.”  
“I’m not going to be here in case you regret that decision,” Folio patted my shoulder before jumping off the counter, leaving me alone yet again. 
With a long breath, I gathered my hair in a low ponytail, keeping it in one hand while I brought the scissors to it, the sound of chopping echoing in the small bathroom.
“Hang up my shame on display for you,” I sang low as I held up the cut ponytail in front of my face.
I shivered when a cold breeze brushed against the nape of my neck, reveling in the feeling. 
When there was no light, when there was nothing beyond the boundaries of my skin, hope was a ladder woven of heaven’s vibrations that spoke right to my healing soul. 
Hopes was a ladder that both Y/N and I could make it to the top. Because I believe it's destined in our hearts.
All I knew is that Y/N loves me back.
She fucking loves me.
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bucksangel · 1 month
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okay you’re straight up ATTACKING ME!!!! It’s been two days and i’m still losing my mind (which is the natural response to seeing sebastian) this will be quick but it’s giving me soooo many ideas😫😫
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pairing: alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader
word count: 870
warnings: 18+ minors dni, mention of oral (f receiving), alpha!bucky being a complete menace, kinda dom/in charge!reader??, that’s it i think
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It’s hard, so fucking hard trying to ignore him. It helps that you’re standing with your back to him, but you can feel his gaze - glare more like. He’s been like this ever since you woke up this morning: pouting when you refuse to kiss him, whining when you wiggle out of his hold every time he manages to wrap his arms around you, he even shuffled to the couch and flopped onto it with a dramatic huff when you slapped his hand away when he tried holding yours.
Bucky Barnes is a baby, but you’re too stubborn to give in to his wishes.
“Come on, darling,” He whines from the couch, and the low rumble he lets out soon after makes you want to give up the act, makes you want to sink to your knees and crawl to him, forgiving him for the earlier incident. “I said I was sorry, don’t you wanna come let your Alpha apologize properly? I’ll get on my knees -”
You cut him off by throwing a nearby pillow towards him, glancing over your shoulder for a brief moment to see that he’s now sitting up, resting one hand on his thigh with his other arm thrown over the top of the couch. It takes all your might to force yourself to look away and focus back on making your tea, but you do it anyway.
It lasts not even five seconds, because then Bucky pulls out the big stops, lowering his voice as he says, “Omega… Come on.”
With a huff, you turn on your heels, placing your hands on your hips and glaring at the man you’ve called yours for over two years. His pout is gone, replaced with a smirk and a raised eyebrow as he waits for the inevitable.
“No,” You say harshly, but your heart’s not in it. You want to forgive him so badly, but he needs to learn his lesson. “You threw away all of my underwear! What am I supposed to wear when I go out now?”
“First of all, I didn’t throw all of them away. I left you a couple of thongs and those sets I love so much.” Bucky’s musky Alpha scent is slowly filling the room, the sheer dominance he radiates is clear to anyone who comes in contact with him but it’s more prevalent now with his leather jacket hugging his biceps. “Plus, we hardly leave the house anyway. And you know very well how I feel about you wearin’ panties around here.”
It’s true, you do know. In the beginning of you two living together, you quickly learned it’s best to not wear pants. You don’t like wearing them in the comfort of your own home anyway - something Bucky is extremely appreciative of. But especially panties, they merely get in the way of his desire to fill you up at any chance he gets. And it’s not like you’re complaining, oh god no. The day you’re not ready to take Bucky’s cock at any given moment will be the day you die.
It’s just… You liked the pairs you had, and they were expensive. So for Bucky to just throw them away - even if you know he didn’t mean any actual ill-will by it - kind of irks you.
Though not nearly as much as the infuriatingly smug grin on his face as you falter, he knows you’re going to cave, you always do. You’re weak for him, always have been, and always will be.
It’s just good that he’s the same way. He’d jump fifty feet in the air if you asked him to, he’d go out at one in the morning and get you food if you even suggested you were hungry, and he’s proved time and time again that he’s worthy of being your Alpha.
But right now, all you want to do is continue to gripe and make him buy you more. But then an even better idea pops up, and it’s your turn to smile deviously.
“You’re right,” You start, crossing your arms over your chest and slowly walking towards him. “You and I both know how you feel about my panties, and I guess you did leave me the good ones. But a verbal apology isn't going to be good enough.”
“Ome-“
“No.” Your harsh tone shuts him up, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “You’ve already ripped up quite a few because you’re too impatient to actually take them off. But throwing them away is too far.” Stopping about a foot in front of him, you have to will yourself not to laugh at the shock on his face.
“Your ‘apology’ will be me sitting on your face until you give me as many orgasms as the underwear you tossed out, okay?”
At that, Bucky straightens up one of his eyebrows raising as he leans forward with his forearms resting on his knees. “Omega, you have no idea how okay with that I am.” With that, Bucky shoots up, wrapping you in his arms and literally sweeping you off your feet as he carries you toward the bedroom.
It’s going to be a long day, and it’s a good thing you don’t have anything planned.
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anxious-witch · 3 months
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So, Jan and Nace photoshoot analysis. This will definitely be long, and idk how coherent I will be. As always this is entirely subjective, this time maybe more than ever. I am up for friendly discussions and disagreements, but also after today if you are a dick, I will block you.
Anyway.
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So let's go pictures by pictures first and then observe how they interact. We start off with the top one, that almost seems like it was two individual shots first, but go glued together. To focus on Nace first, he is looking directly into the camera, his face completely visible, but his hair and body is in the shadow. His leather jacket is even covering his neck. He is in "full armor", except for his face. His face having a layer of combativness only add to that imagery.
Now to focus on Jan. I'd say he is in a similar state, his stare perhaps even more defiant, as if daring us to judge. His face is half covered by his hair, which makes sm sense in a way that we know Jan is a quite private person. He doesn't want people to full see him behind a curtain. Some things are private and he doesn't want to show us everything.
I also find it interesting that these pictures have less contrast than the ones we go later, as if there is additional layer of gray over them. Like they weren't sure it was just yet time to full pull the curtain away from their intimate moments, making them softer and more blurry. As someone else pointed out, it's giving a vibe of them being in the shower, the hot stream muddyijg up the pictures.
Then, right below it, we have Jan and Nace doing an Inuit kiss, their noses touching. And my god, I am so insane about this complete shift in perspective. They aren't looking into the camera, but at each other, with an almost painfully soft expressions.
What struck me as really interesting is that with Kris and Bojan's shoots, they were the most honest and open in the pictures where they look into the camera. Here, it's the opposite. In moments where they are focused on each other, you get the feeling they aren't even aware they are being observed. Looking into the camera, to the viewers seems uncomfortable.
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Then, we have this set. Top one resembles first one from the set, except for few significant changes. It's clearly one photo, not two separate ones glued together. Jan is closer to Nace, as if he moved close to protect him. Also another thing that I find interesting, although I am not sure of it was purposeful or simply a trick of the light but! In all pictures where they are together, it looks like they both have just a bit of smudged eyeliner. And I will even go as far to speculate it might be on purpse as if to imply their facade is getting smudged. They can't hold it in place anymore.
In picture two(my favorite, my beloved). We get them favung each other once again, and this time, Nace is openly laughing and Jan is smiling and looking at him with what I will dare say is the closest to adoration.
Jan's eyes are open and more visible, unlike from the first shot, where they were mostly covered by his hair. Almost as if seeing Nace in a happy and relaxed state made him show off a bit more of himself.
Last picture in this set has Jan looking at the camera, his hand clasped over Nace's mouth and Nace has his eyes half close, blind to the viewer, only focused on Jan.
And, okay. This is where my interpretation loses any pretense of objectivity, but I simply can't see this any other way. I read this as Nace being blind to them being watched so constantly and perhaps saying something that should-by Jan's standards-stay private. He is, unlike Nace, looking directly to us, and looks caugh, out of breath.
There is also that aspect of protectivness too-if he can stop Nace from revealing something us as views are not meant to hear, perhaps he can protect him from it.
Now, to focus on their separate pictures. Or well, mostly separate. Let's go with Nace's first.
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To start with the top picture, Nace looks both tired and defiant here, staring directly at the camera. His arms are crossed over his chest and he is gripping his shirt very tightly, pulling it away from his arms and towards his chest.
Again, throwing objectivity out of the window because I simply cannot be bothered today, but. This reads to me sm like he is showing off his tattoos and hiding chest? As if he wishes to be judged by art he choose for himself. It could also tie into the fact that due to some body issues, his arms are truly something he likes to shows off in comparison to the rest of his body.
Second picture on the left is connected. Once again, he is not looking at the viewer, unaware he is being observed and thus, showing how under the facade of intensity and defiance, the pressure is getting to him.
Third picture is SO INTENSE. Nace is gagged by some sort of fabric and the shadow/makeup around his eyes is the most intense. He looks the most brooding and his features look almost twisted. Like he is being silenced and put in the shape he doesn't want to be in.
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Then, we get this. What a transformation. The pure softness, the trust in Nace's eyes here. It's literally giving the intimacy of sharing an intimate moment with a lover to me, especially with the way these are positioned. Like Nace is laying down and softly looking up and then almost bashfully lowering his gaze. I am genuinely unwell with how intimate this looks.
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Now, THIS. We have Jan, staring at the camera, pulling Nace closer to himself. Nace is standing with his back to us.
This picture once again shows to me of how protective Jan feels over Nace. This is giving such "Don't you dare touch him" vibes, it's insane. Jan's hair is messy and untaimed, and still half hiding his face and yet, he is not turning away. Because turning away would mean leaving Nace vulnerable so instead he faces the camera head on while providing a safe space for Nace.
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And at last, two solo photos of Jan. First one has Jan showing off his painted nails, which we don't see in any of the other pictures. His face is half covered in both pictures, first with the hand and hair and the other with the hair only.
In the first picture, he is still looking at us, almost as if saying, "Are you watching? Do you see what I am showing?" While in the other one, he is looking at something away from the camera, in an almost resigned way. He is tired of the preformance, of being on guard. He is just letting hinself be observed.
Another thing that was pointed out to me was white frame for Nace vs black frame for Jan. And not to go totally off the rails at that, but-Nace providing a light to Jan, a hope of brightness and warmth, which Jan provides the comfort of dark, safe place for Nace is just bfjxnxkdjx.
Alll in all, I absolutely adored these and I am half asleep so I probably forgot half the stuff I wanted to say so please feel free to add on your thoughts.
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caxde · 1 year
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uncertainty | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
summary you are Dustin’s older sister, and you have developed a very confussing attraction to your brother and friend's fiend, Eddie. (3.4k),
warnings fem!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!!, english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 
this is based on this lovely ask <3 thank you for the request!
“I’m leaving in five!” You screamed up at the staircase, as you heard the hurried steps of your little brother rushing around. 
“I’ll need seven!” He shouts back, voice high in pitch. 
“Now you have four, hurry up!” You plead from downstairs, with a short laugh that escaped your lips as you could picture your little brother going absolutely insane, having overslept once again. 
“Shit, shit. Okay!” 
“Language!” You yelled as you went over the little drawer that held your car and house keys, turning around to pick up your favourite washed up brown leather jacket. Even if your mom kept babbling away about how it wasn’t really that warm, you debated the opposite, having worn it for the last 6 months. Either way it doesn’t really matter what she thinks, she’s not here to tell you anything. 
As you opened the front door you squint your eyes at the bright January sun, it was cold, but once you stood up and the light hitted you, it felt as if you were begging to warm up, waking up with the earth, in a weird poetic way. 
“Thought you were in a hurry.” Dustin teased at you as he looked up at you. 
“I am, come on.” You told him as you teased him back, pushing him a bit so he actually hurries up. “You know, if you actually went to bed when you should” You start saying as you start the car. 
“Oh come on!” He replayed in annoyance. “I did go to bed, you know?” 
“Yeah, at four in the morning!” You yelled back at him, feeling how truely tired you were. “And you know I end up incredibly tired when I have to go to The Hideout and help out Dust…” You try to make him understand. 
“You didn’t sleep?” He asks back, worry on his voice. 
“I did, just…” You looked back at his little brown eyes, true compassion for you, you knew he felt bad now. “Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s just, if you’re talking to Suzie keep your voice low okay big guy?” Your voice calms now, feeling bad for having yelled at him. 
“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He replayed softly as he looked down at his feet. 
The car ride stayed silent. 
As you parked the car and got out to help him as you always had, grabbing his backpack for him, and giving him a side hug you smiled at him. 
“Sorry for yelling.” He nodded and started to look out for his friends. “Pick up at five?” 
“Yeah.” He said as he started to leave. You nodded at him as he left. 
You were tired, but you didn’t actually regret helping out at The Hideout, if anything, John was doing you a favour. It was proving to be rather tricky to find another job, since you decided you would rather be full time anywhere else than half time in Family Video, though you missed hanging out with Steve so much, you kept hope. 
And anyways, yesterday ended up being a good night. 
A very good night. 
Might be the fact that he tips had run high, or that John asked you to come again today, or maybe, and if we’re being sincere, it was because Eddie had come over. Granted, it hadn’t been only him, but it didn’t matter, not if you could only see him. 
And maybe it was because your friends had waited for you to finish your shift, and had made it bearable, but again, if you were being honest with yourself, you knew it had been his soft I always like seeing you that had made the night better. 
-
“You shouldn’t trust it.” Robin mocked you once again. 
“She’s got a point.” Steve continued. 
“Oh fuck off you two.” You added, still smiling at them as you did. 
“I’m just saying… I mean, you have a massive, incredible, planet sized crush on the dude, so you should know, like make it so important.” She tried to rationalize with you as her hands flew through the hair as she was talking, which only made Steve laugh even more. 
“Like you have on Vickie?” You tried to tease her back. 
“Hey! Not fair, we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you.” She sentenced, as she threw the old kitchen rag at you as you all laughed again. 
“Oh come on, pick on Steve and his crush on Nancy!” You plead as she turned again looking back at him. 
“That was uncalled for.” He said under his breath. 
“Just stating the obvious.” You pointed as you turned around to your oven. 
As the rambling and teasing continued you checked the time once again. You weren’t that late, and still, you always felt anxious you would be. 
Saturday dinners were the only thing that had remained constant through the years, regardless of what was going on, you always found time to see each other, either for a quick sandwich or a full course dinner. 
So it felt nice to see them in your house, teasing you, as they cooked the pizzas from scratch you couldn’t help but smile at the picture of them, remembering how hellish last year had been. 
Your thoughts got interrupted by the doorbell. 
“Is it Dustin?” Robin asked as her head moved to look at you. 
“No, Dust is staying at the Wheelers.” You replayed with uncertainty in your voice. “Were you expecting someone?” You ask, looking at Steve, and you see how the corners of his lips start to curl upwards. 
“I might have invited Munson over…” A smirk appears on his face, and on yours embarrassed rosy cheeks appear.
-
The warm vapor of the tiny dishwasher hits your face, making it hard to breathe for just a second before you step back and let your hands wash the steam off your face. You take a deep breath, it’s only one more hour until close time, and then you would be free to go back home, back to your bed, and if you're honest, back to overthinking. Thankfully, The Hideout was emptying, and as usual, everyone that left said goodbye to you, and you tried to remain cheerful and respond to every one by name. 
“Henderson, we might go too.” Steve yells over the music. As you nod to him you head on to his direction, so you can actually hug him goodbye. 
“We would stay but… It’s getting pretty late, we’re sorry.” Robin adds as she hugs you too. 
“I get it, it’s alright don’t worry.” You replay as you look at both of them, smiling gratefully that they have stayed this long. 
“Actually, I think I’ll stay.” His voice fills you up, low and deep, raspy making your skin tingle. “If you don’t mind.” 
“ ‘Course not.” You add, trying to not sound as nervous as you feel looking at him, his brown eyes locked onto you. 
“O-key then.” Steve adds with a hidden laugh. “See you tomorrow?” You nod as they leave. 
You can’t help but smile as you head back into the bar, feeling his stare onto you, and not only that, but his shy smile too. 
Without even asking, you serve him another beer and he takes it, taking a sip while his eyes shine at you. A quick glance at the clock lets you know that it is now acceptable for you to start cleaning up, letting the couple tables that are still finishing their drinks know that you want to leave, and they seem to get the message once they get up a few moments later. They pay you what they owe you and leave slowly. 
You take your time to actually close the register, and once you look up, you see the long haired boy returning with the tray of empty glasses and bottles. 
“You didn’t have to do that.” You say in a soft whisper, feeling how your cheeks warm up as you do so. 
“I know, but you look exhausted, so…” He tilts his head as he looks down at you. “You go sit, and I’ll clean up a bit, okay?” He continues as he starts to clean the glasses and throws away the empty beer bottles. You smile as you circle back to where he was, and he smirks as he watches you do so. 
You let your body rest, for the second that it does so, you feel the tiredness catching up to you. 
It feels weird, not in a bad sense to have someone taking care of you in that way. Not by anyone, but him. Focused into doing what he has seen you do a thousand times, he even pours you a beer so you can actually relax, but to be honest with yourself, it’s not the alcohol that makes you feel fazed, but him looking at you from time to time as he gives you small smirks and giggles every time your eyes meet. You feel your whole body warming up as he does so, feeling absolutely enamored by the littlest things he does, even the way he pushes his hair away from his face makes you melt a little bit. And still, it just confuses you more and more. 
Conflicted might be a good definition. 
You are aware that you’ve fallen for him, not ashamed of it, you don’t really care if he knows, but you are scared to find out if he feels the same way about you. You can’t help but let your mind wonder, does he? Does he get as fidgety as you do when you walk into a room? Does he daydream about you in the same way that you’ve caught yourself doing so many times? Does he wish that someday your body is pressed against his as desperately as he does every time your hands meet for just a moment? Does he wonder how your lips taste? 
“You okay, love?” He asks. Once you look up to him you feel your thoughts stop all of a sudden, mesmerized by the way his eyes shine at you. It lingers in your brain. lovelovelove. How can someone look so angelic while saying such a silly word, you are not sure. 
“Yeah, I..-” You can’t find any words to continue, his hand had found its way to a wisp of hair that had fallen out of place, and even if his touch wasn’t cold, his silver rings froze at the contact with your cheek as he placed it behind your ear, were it originally was. 
It truly felt like time had frozen, no words invaded that space. For only a second, it felt like your body was weightless, it felt like if you’d cease to exist, you’d be okay doing so with this being your last memory. His eyes shining only for you, locked intensely with yours, it truly doesn't matter what would happen next if you could just remain frozen in this moment. 
But alas, that was just a wish, and time continued to pass. His touch left your skin burning, and both of your faces looked at the ground, trying to understand what that little buzzing you felt was. 
As the night advanced, the little bar was clean, and you were ready to leave, though sad might not be the best way to describe what you felt, it surely came close, feeling so calm next to him, you dreaded being separated again, still not knowing if everything you felt was unilateral. 
You closed the lights, he turned the music off, and even in shadow, his body was as defined as ever, you’d know who it was in any circumstance you noted. What you didn’t seem to see, was how his eyes could not strip away from you, or how his hands longed to touch the skin on your waist for once.
So, as you closed the back door, and flipped back to look at him, he laid it there, with the excuse of making sure you wouldn’t fall given that the floor had begun to freeze over the night. And maybe because you were so focused on the way your heart was beating fast, hard and loud, you didn’t feel that he did the same. 
“Shit.” You murmured as you looked back to the parking lot. 
“What?” He responded, his hand still resting on your back. 
“Steve drove me here! I forgot… I… Shit I guess I’ll just walk-” 
“Fuck off, I’m driving you come on.” He added as he cut you and your rumbling. 
“Edds, I live the opposite way of you…” You whisper once again, making him turn around to look at you, his breath falling onto you, watching it as the cold exposes it. 
“And I don’t care. It’s cold and you get sick easily, you're exhausted and I like being with you, so…” He begins to walk to his van, his hand finally leaving your back, only to open the car door for you. 
-
ilikebeingwithyou
it stays with you, even if it is on the back of your mind, it stays there. 
Even when you had to wait for the van to get warm enough so the engine could start, even when the music was loud and all you did was giggle as he screamed loudly the lyrics of whatever was playing in the background. 
It didn’t matter now, the van was parked and the music had stopped, and his body had turned slowly so he could look at you once again. 
And again, that weird feeling invaded the air, an electricity that seemed to pull you to him stronger and stronger. 
A flashing thought, an image of what could be, if you actually had the nerve to let your hand get lost on the back of his neck to pull him closer to you so that maybe your lips could touch his cheek in a thank you gesture, even if you don’t. 
But he does something that seems to be just as stupid. His hand finds rest on your upper thigh. 
And your eyes look at his rings in an attempt to distract yourself. 
“Thank you…” Your voice comes out soft, and slow as your eyes travel up to him. Slowly. 
“You… yeah. You’re welcome.” He’s becoming flustered now, his words tangling as he readies for you to leave, but you can’t seem to go yet. 
“What?” You asked as you smiled at him, a tired comfortable smile. 
“Nothing. I just like being with you. You make it all better I guess.” 
Your wordless. As your cheeks get warm and your lips curl upwards, your face looks through the windshield astonished at his words. 
“Do you wanna…?” 
He nods as he opens his door, rushing to yours. 
-
3 am
Time had seemed to pass quickly as you too shared the downstairs couch, at times in comfortable silence, most of the time in unimportant conversations, much preoccupied by what your heart and body was feeling. The warmth his body emanate, now wearing only a black distressed old T-shirt, that let his arm tattoos show, not only that but his muscles seem to flex from time to time, and if you hadn’t been so distracted by his charming simple while he teased you you’d realized that they did so every time your body moved closer to him, in a nervous reflex. 
Deep down you know, even if you’re not aware of it just yet, that this might be as intimate as you’ve ever been with anyone. Sex and physical intimacy had nothing against this, seeing him giggle as you talk deep into the night, whipping tears of laughter away from his eyes, as his hand rested once again on your thigh. 
Might be the late hour of the night, the dizziness from the lack of sleep or the tipsy thoughts that the beers that you had downed, but you meet his touch, lazily stroking his fingers with your hand, playing with his cold rings. When you are not looking, he lets himself be truly mesmerized by you. 
“You seem like you want to say something.” He says, voice low and soft, because let’s face it, it would be ridiculous to speak aloud when it’s only the two of you in your empty house. You feel as his face softens when your eyes look back at him. 
“I do.” 
“Then say what you need…” He encourages, slowly. 
“I’m embarrassed, actually.” You confess in a soft smile, letting your head rest on the back of the couch. His body scooches closer. 
“Oh, come on… Please, love?” lovelovelove. He knows what this stupid pet name makes you feel, you’re sure of it. 
“You confuse me. A lot.” You finally say to him, your eyes darting around his face, as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his unoccupied hand goes to his head, as his arm rests on the same back of the couch. 
“I confuse you?” He repeats in disbelief, almost sounds as he is teasing you. 
“Yeah, you do.” You admit, your fingers playing anxiously now as your sight avoids him and is instead focused on his rings. 
“Well, then… Ask.” He says confident, approaching you even more. Your body in his direction, knees touching, the grip that he has on your thigh grows deeper. 
“What?” 
“Whatever you wanna know.” 
You take a deep breath, as your hands whip your face, preparing you for the embarrassment that you most certainly will feel after you finally open up to him. 
“Do… Um…Do you like me?” 
“Wha- What?” He sounds shocked, and your face becomes red. 
“Forget it, please…” You say, a pleading look on your face as you look back at him. His face, while it is still soft, is focused on you, his eyes that are usually brown appear black as his iris has invaded the whole space, though that happens every time he looks at you, you hadn’t realized until now. 
“No, please… I… What do you mean?” 
“Shit, okay.” You breathe in, deeply, deciding for one to be brave for once, and to accept rejection if it comes to that. “I like you Eddie. I really do. Not because you are good-looking and all that physical nonsense, but because you make life brighter… I… Fuck… I’m sorry I just… I really like you and I just don’t know if this feeling goes both ways.” You admit, all in one breath, darting between his eyes, his lips parted halfway and your hands that are now under his grip, a warm touch, a spark or maybe a tingle on them. 
“You do?” He asks.
“Fuck, yes Eddie…” You admit, embarrassed and frustrated. “If you’re gonna make fun of me just… forget it okay?”
“Love.” He stops you from continuing rambling. “Why do you think I call you that?” You look back at him, shocked now. “I am in love with you. I don’t just like you. I love everything you do. The way you care so deeply about everyone, and how you would give everything you have to give to someone else just so they’re okay. I love how you look when you’re exhausted, ‘cause you get that cute smile trying to make it not obvious. I love when you get flustered, and I love when you let me take care of you ‘cause that’s all I wanna do… I…” You’re both smiling so bright it feels like you’ve just discovered what colour means. “Can I just… Can I just kiss you?” He says as his hand finally leaves his head, to approach your face. 
“Please.” You say in return. Begging to finally feel his lips onto yours. 
His fingers tuck away your hair behind your ear, letting them rest on the back of your neck. The other one remains on your leg, his hand deepens the grip that it had on it, a soft moan only from that is already escaping your mouth. He comes closer as you both close your eyes, seeing him smile before you do so. And as soon as his lips finally meet, your fingers intertwined with his, as the kiss deepens and it all feels exactly as you wished it did, soft, deep, careful at first, needy in the end. It feels like you’re both air at the other was drowning. It is sweet, and it doesn’t stop.  And it won’t stop for as long as you’re together, you finally feel as though you got your answer. He doesn’t like you, he loves you, and you can’t wait to love him back.
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