#is this angsty? if you squint i guess

[draculasfavoritewife]

Night Terrors

Summary: Some things might never change, but every once in awhile, even the painful ghosts of the past can give way to further intimacy.

Pairing: Emma Frost x Scott Summers

Warnings: Mentions of death and past abuse, implied smut at the end. Angst galore.

I am a gleefully unrepentant shipper of these two and love getting inside their beautifully messy heads :) They were probably the first character ship I rabidly helmed, and to my dying day I will maintain that Emma is better for Scott than Jean ever was. That is all!

He wakes up violently again, muscles surging against her skin, only two decades of strict discipline keeping him silent, holding back the anguish that rips through his mind, simmering in the pit of his chest. 

Emma Frost is used to this, much as she wishes she weren’t. When you sleep with Scott Summers, the nightmares are part of the package. Not that she could ever fault him for it. She has her demons, too, the screams that won’t ever quite fade away, the haunted eyes, the scars and the bad choices. 

No, the reason she wishes it weren’t the case is that she hates feeling him in so much pain, most of it self-inflicted. 

She wishes he would open up instead of stuffing all of it down deep into that locked box in his psyche where it festers until it inevitably overflows. But then, who is she to make such demands of him? Emma Frost knows better than anyone how to hide weakness — how to repress her hurt, her doubts, anything that anyone could use to take advantage of her. 

Like her, Scott has been hiding his weaknesses his entire life. She alone sees through the cracks in his armor. She is the only one he allows to touch the scars inside of him, the ones that run so much deeper and are so much more painful than the physical scars scattered across his bare torso beneath her. 

Yet there are still things they don’t talk about. 

He’s trained himself never to open his eyes when he wakes. Even when he sleeps, she can feel his subconscious awareness that he isn’t wearing his protective glasses. His eyes stay shut, but his hands find her, his fingertips digging into the smooth skin of her back and tangling in her silky hair with a searching ferocity that borders on painful. She lets her own eyes flutter open, and as he feels her eyelashes brush his chest, his breathing relaxes. 

“Em?” 

She tells him she hates pet names and sentimental drivel like that, but he could tell, by the way she stubbornly kept her lips from curving up into a smirk the first time he called her so, that she really didn’t. 

She leans back slightly, pulling her weight from his body so he can take a deeper breath. “Yes, Darling?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Emma huffs an annoyed breath, blowing stray hairs away from her face. Sometimes it seems Scott’s entire vocabulary consists of “I’m sorry”. Doesn’t he remember, after the handful of years they’ve been together already, that she isn’t the Professor, demanding a certain standard of performance from him? She isn’t Logan, telling him off. 

She sure as hell isn’t HER, either. 

Old habits die hard, they say. 

Which is why, instead of voicing any of this aloud, she conceals her frustration at his apology and presses her lips to his strong jawline. “I’m a light sleeper, Scott. And it’s hot in here. It was only a matter of time before I woke up anyway.” 

He knows that’s a lie. He knows she would sleep past noon every day of the week if he didn’t tease and coax her out from their nest each morning with the promise that she can join him in the shower. But he doesn’t challenge her. He’s still too raw and tender from whatever old horrors his thoughts cooked up for him this time. 

“You sound like you want to talk,” she prods, sitting up. Moonlight slants in through the window, turning her already pale complexion silvery white. 

“I don’t,” he mutters, rolling away from her. “Go back to sleep.” 

Emma sighs and kicks away the sheets tangled around her long legs. “Well, you have my full attention, Lover. And something’s got your mind in a twist. Care to untangle it for me? Or am I supposed to simply await the next time I’m jolted awake so abruptly?” 

His broad back tenses. “You don’t like it, I can sleep somewhere else for the rest of the night.” 

Any other time, Emma would have laughed out loud at what he just said. This is his room they share, the room he has occupied since before she even knew what the Xavier Institute was, and he is the one offering to leave, instead of suggesting she do so. Whether it comes from his endearing sense of chivalry, or the fact that he’s completely wrapped around her finger, she isn’t sure. But it is funny. 

She has a feeling he’s not in the mood for a laugh tonight. He rarely is even at the best of times. So serious. So controlled. So…perfect, in front of everyone else. 

Emma was delighted when she first met him. She remembers the satisfaction of glancing through his thoughts and seeing how beautifully imperfect he actually is. Everything he worked so hard to keep from everyone else — the rage, the passion, the guilt, the POWER — she tasted it, lingering there in the wings from day one. She’s not the most religious person in the room, never has been, but something about meeting Scott Summers almost made her believe in a higher power. 

Why else would they have crossed paths? 

She reaches out, her caress sliding from his rigid shoulder all the way down to his hip, and he loosens slightly. “If you don’t want to talk…what about showing me?” This is nearly unheard of for her. She’s lived her whole life using her prodigious telepathic abilities to take what she wants and manipulate who she could in the name of self-preservation. It speaks volumes of how much he means to her, of the level of trust and respect they’ve cultivated in the years since they met, that she does not invade his thoughts whenever she pleases, asking for his consent instead. 

He’s known her long enough to realize this. 

Scott allows her to pull him towards her again, and he lets her in. Emma loves his mind, almost gets a rush from it when he bares himself this fully for her. She revels in the complexity of his keen intelligence, the turbulence of his emotions, the overwhelming drive and ambition that pushes him constantly to new levels of greatness. This is why she believes in him, why all of them believe in him, whether they are aware of it or not. If she had the time, she would willingly spend days in here, learning all of his idiosyncrasies, getting lost in his memories like a well-curated museum. 

The trail of his despair is easy enough to follow despite her desire to window-shop, and as she follows it ever deeper, his reluctance drags at her feet. She has a sneaking suspicion she knows which dream this is. 

Then she’s rounded a corner and there it is, playing out in front of her like a television rerun. The nightmare that most frequently haunts his slumber, the one they don’t talk about. 

The one about HER. 

She stands cold and aloof, an observer and nothing more as the flames rise higher and a woman cries out in agony and fury. Phoenix has always lingered here, in his mind. Emma can still feel whispers of the time when the redheaded woman was the one running her fingers through Scott’s memories and not her. Her presence is everywhere here, the one place that never changes even if Scott dresses in more expensive clothes now and has taken to leaving his jaw fashionably scruffy because Emma likes it. Another woman was here first, and no one can take that fact away. 

“It was different this time.” 

Emma turns to see him approaching her from behind. Not the same one currently playing out the grim theatre of death in his memory, but the real Scott. She feels a pain in her chest, though she would deny it, at the sight of his astral image still wearing his glasses, even though he can’t hurt anyone here. She turns away. 

“How was it different?” The words come out in her White Queen voice, the frozen tones she used before she met him. Emma hadn’t realized until now just how different her natural voice is when they’re together. 

He reaches out as if to put a hand on her shoulder, then has second thoughts and drops it to his side again. “Just keep watching, I guess.” 

So she does, and to her surprise, when the flames die and Phoenix with them, the woman the other Scott is cradling in his arms isn’t a redhead. Straight, pale blond hair is what she sees flowing over his shoulder as he breaks down, and it hits her with an odd gravity that she’s never watched herself die before. 

“I thought I lost you,” Scott tells her, voice low as he looks at the ground. 

Emma turns to meet his gaze again, and a tear rolls down her cheek before she can stop it. “You…it was me?” 

He nods, biting his lip. A moment of silence passes between them, and then he reaches for her hands, gazing down into her face. “I love you, Em,” he murmurs. 

She’s always had a more difficult time saying it than he does. He says it all the time in his thoughts, sometimes even aloud. It’s the way he ends most of their conversations. But he’s known real love, what it feels like, and she’s only ever heard the word as a euphemism for something that means absolutely nothing when the wrong people are doing it. 

In his thoughts, here and now, she thinks she understands what love really is, though. 

So she says it back. 

“I love you, Scott Summers.” 

Then he’s kissing her, and she’s always loved when he does it like this, alone in his head where no one else can see, when it’s just the two of them at their most vulnerable, more naked than they can ever be in real life. It’s intimate, it’s perfect, and she suddenly pities all those unfortunate souls that will never be able to experience a unity like this. 

Though if anyone ever accused Emma Frost of pitying anyone, she would slam them into next week. 

When she becomes aware of her own physical body again, Scott is sitting up in front of her, his eyes still shut but his thumb softly wiping the tear from her cheek. If it had been anyone else, she would be offended at their care, at their sympathy, at the assumption that she needs anyone to look out for her. But it’s Scott, and his touch is so gentle, and his lips are slightly smiling at her, and so she feels that pathetic warm and fuzzy feeling that only he has ever drawn out of her. 

She leans in to kiss him for real, sliding her tongue across his soft lips, and he returns the kiss with all of the warmth and passion in him, and she tells him again in their minds just how much she loves him. 

When they break apart, Emma allows her skin to harden, changing her body to diamond in his embrace. He senses the difference, her coldness against his skin, and tips his head to one side, questioning. “Em, are you sure?” 

“Yes,” she whispers. “Yes, Scott. Look at me.” 

His eyelids open, and she’s staring into his eyes. Even though her capacity to feel is deadened when she is like this, she knows how much she loves his eyes. They’re beautiful in their burning crimson glory, so much raging energy thundering out of them like an untamable force of nature. Those eyes that have killed, that have pulverized steel into dust and destroyed even the staunchest juggernauts he has faced, are nothing more than gorgeous to her. 

She can look him in the eye without his protective shields, something no one else on earth can do. It lights her up inside, both literally and figuratively she thinks, as she sees the patterns shining through her translucent body reflected on their bedroom walls. 

He closes his eyes again and rests his forehead against hers. “Thank you.” 

Even without her telepathy, she picks up on what he’s not saying, his desire for her to return to flesh and blood again, and what he wants to do to her when she has. “Don’t you want me to stay this way?” she asks coolly. “Most men would go mad at the very idea of having an entire woman forged of pure diamond in their arms.” 

“I’m not most men,” he replies simply. “And lovely as you are like this, I really prefer my entire woman much…softer.” 

She acquiesces, and he pushes her over so that he is the one on top now. “You’re certainly getting more assertive, Mr. Summers.” 

His smile is perhaps the closest thing to wicked she’s ever seen cross his handsome face. “That is entirely your fault, Love.” 

“Something I don’t mind blaming myself for,” she snarks, twisting her fingers in his thick hair. “What happened to ‘Go back to sleep’?” 

“Oh we will, don’t worry. But we’re going to get good and tired out first.” 

As he takes over, Emma reflects that his threats are the only ones she’s ever looked forward to fulfilling. 

#emma frost #cyclops #scottsummersxemmafrost #favorite ships #they're so pretty #they're so in love #xmen #drabble #angsty #romantic #scott summers #white queen #sadness is sexy #I guess there's fluff if you squint #This has been sitting in my notes for like two years lol

[wooyoungiewritings]

Mr. Popular - Seonghwa x Reader

Summary: After your best friend leaves you alone at the party, you find yourself in an unfortunate situation, until an unexpected savior comes to save the day. Seonghwa, the popular guy, ends up being your knight in shining armor, but he also happens to be the guy your best friend is currently crushing on. So what do you do, when you find yourself getting to know him and he makes you feel things you shouldn't?

Word count: 21.8K

Genre: Fluff, a bit angsty, S M U T

Warnings: smut, fem reader (fem pronouns), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, light choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, edging (f), Hwa is very dominant hehhehehhe, lmk if I missed anything!

This is all for fun and is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way.

“You know who’s coming tonight?”

You look to your side and see a smirk on your best friend’s lips.

“Judging from the smirk on your lips, I’m guessing one of your boyfriends.” You roll your eyes jokingly and her hand smacks your arm.

“Boyfriends?!” She almost screams, and you send her a pair of eyes to tell her to quiet down. The poor taxi driver has driven you two all across town and has heard plenty of your conversations, and you’re starting to feel bad for him. “They’re not my boyfriends.. yet.” She smirks.

“How many do you plan on dating, huh?” You look out of the window, not recognizing the area. 

“Crushing on someone is not the same as dating them. Just because two of my favorite eye-candies are coming tonight, doesn’t mean I’m going to talk to both of them.”

“And who’s that?” You ask curiously. Last time you counted, she was crushing on 5 people from your school, a few of whom she has never spoken to.

“Mingi and Seonghwa.” She answers confidently. “And who I’ll be shooting my shot at tonight, all depends on who catches my eye first.” She shrugs, and you roll your eyes once again. Once again, you feel bad for the taxi driver, but when you see a house full of people, you know you’re finally at your destination. You pay for the cab before heading out, and the music from the house blasts loudly in every direction. 

Your best friend grabs you under the arm and drags you towards the party she got you both invited to. She was the social one of the two of you. She knew everyone, knew how to get her way, and was happily dragging you along with her. You on the other hand, mostly only agreed to come so she would keep inviting you to things. 

It’s hard to be as extroverted as her, but you got a taste of the popularity from her, and that was enough for you. You didn’t attend these parties quite often. They were alright, but you enjoyed your relaxing weekends even more. But it had been a while since your last party, so you decided tonight was the night.

People fill the yard outside, smoking and drinking, and you mentally prepare yourself for the party inside. As you enter through the front door, you’re welcomed by a vibrant atmosphere. Every room is filled with people laughing and dancing, and the bass from the music vibrates through the entire floor to your body. The smell of alcohol filling your nose, a group of guys screaming over a game of beer pong, and the sticky floor from spilled alcohol remind you why these parties aren’t your favorite way to spend your night. You look to your side and see your best friend scanning the room.

“You see something?” You ask, seeing as she squints her eyes in a certain direction.

“I’ve spotted my target for tonight.” She wriggles her brows with a smirk and you feel her let go of your arm. “A tall Mingi just went out to the backyard.” She lets completely go of you, but before she goes anywhere, you grab her hand again.

“Are you leaving me?” Panic is evident in your voice. You’ve been here for 15 seconds, and she’s already about to leave you for a guy.

“No! I’m just... Getting us something to drink... From the backyard...” Her excuse isn't getting her far, and your sigh lets her know how you feel about the situation. “I’ll just go talk to him really quick, okay? I’ll be back. Please?” She sends you her famous doe-eyes as she softly holds your hand.

“The eyes only work on guys, you know that,” You shake your head, looking at the door Mingi just went through. Your gaze meets her eyes again, and another deep sigh leaves you. “Go.. Before I change my mind.” Your words have her jumping, and she quickly kisses you on the cheek before making her way toward the door that leads to the backyard and a certain Mingi. 

A sigh escapes between your lips as you look around at the party in this unfamiliar house. Your eyes try to scan after someone you can hang out with while your friend shoots her shot, but it only leaves you unsatisfied. You recognize a few people, but not anyone you’d categorize as your friends. A group of guys runs past you, nearly running into your still-standing frame, before they exit the door filled with drunken laughs.  

Your introverted side is really kicking your ass right now. 

You find your phone in your pocket, trying your best to look busy and fail to see the eyes watching you from across the room. Eyes that belong to someone who doesn’t see you at these parties very often, and is too busy people watching, compared to his friends around him who have their own conversation going. He takes a sip of his drink as his eyes stay on you. He wonders why you’re all by yourself, or if you’re waiting for someone. 

“Don’t you think, Hwa?” Wooyoung asks as San laughs, but Seonghwa hasn’t heard a word of their conversation.

“Sure.” He simply responds and looks at you again. A loud group of guys snatch his attention from you. They’ve been loud the entire night, and he’s honestly not a fan of this group of guys. They’re from another college and are always at these parties where they tend to make a fool of themselves. The group of guys are standing around a small table filled with bottles of alcohol, and a few of them point in a specific direction. Seonghwa’s eyes follow their pointing and he realizes they’re talking about you. 

This catches his attention even more, and he keeps his eyes on the group of guys as he watches them make a drink, and one of them heads in your direction, two drinks in hand. 

“Hey, you look a bit lost?” A voice steals the focus from your phone, and you look up to see a guy with two drinks in his hands.

“Oh, I just barely know anyone here.” You say, putting away your phone. 

“Then let me accompany you, I’m Daniel! Nice to meet you,” He holds out a hand for you to shake. He has a friendly smile on his lips, so you shake his hand and introduce yourself. “You came here alone?” He asks.

“No, I came with someone else but I kinda lost them. So I just decided to stay here... they’ll come back... Hopefully.” You honestly don’t know when your best friend will be back. She’s done this a few times before, and she can be back in 5 minutes or 3 hours. 

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to be alone as well. Can I join you?” He sends you another smile. His voice is courteous and accommodating, and he’s the only one who has talked to you, so you decide to let your inner extrovert shine.

“Sure.” You shrug.

“Cool. I also happen to carry an extra drink with me... Are you up for a game?” He lifts a brow daringly, and it turns on a fire in you. You may not know this guy, or be the biggest fan of drinking games, but you feel tempted to accept. 

“It depends.” There’s a skepticism evident in your voice.

“Whoever chucks the fastest, gets to make the other one a drink, and they have to drink it. Deal?” He holds out one of the drinks for you. The orange color of the drink makes it look fruity, and you’re tempted to lose yourself for once. 

Have fun, be open, meet people. 

“Deal” You grab the drink.

A smile spreads on his lips and he holds out his drink to cheer with you. You bump your drink with his and slowly get ready for this small challenge he gave you. Your hand brings the drink to your lips, and you get ready to chuck while Daniel starts a countdown. 

“Alright, ready? 3..2..1..”

“There you are!” An unknown voice interrupts just as you’re about to drink. You and Daniel both stop and look at the owner of the voice, and you freeze when you see a tall figure next to you. “Sorry, I took so long, Angel. You’re already starting without me?” Seonghwa asks before he grabs the drink from your hand. You’re completely frozen in your spot as you watch Seonghwa take a sip of the drink and make a disgusted face. “Oh, babe, you don’t like this... Remember that drink you tasted a few weeks ago? It tastes exactly like that,” Seonghwa pours out the drink in an empty bowl on the table next to you. His scent wraps around you like a warm hug, when he relaxes his arm around your shoulders and shifts his gaze to Daniel. “And who do we have here?”

Daniel narrows his eyes in Seonghwa’s direction, but Seonghwa doesn’t seem intimidated in the slightest.  

“Daniel,” He answers coldly. "Who are you?"

“Let’s get you something good to drink.” Seonghwa looks down at you with a smile and completely ignores Daniel's question and presence. Seonghwa's black hair falls down in front of his eyes as he looks down at you, and you’re lost for words. You’ve never spoken to Seonghwa before, only seen him in class or whenever your best friend wanted to show pictures of him, but being this close to him so suddenly, seeing his sharp features up close, sends a quick rush of warmth throughout your body. 

Seonghwa definitely caught your eye at times. He and his friends were some of the popular guys on campus, and most people knew who they were. Hence, they were always at the parties. But Seonghwa seemed like one of the more “friendly” ones. He wasn’t as intimidating as some of the others in his group and generally gave you the best impression. And seeing him up close like this, you see why so many girls were crushing on him.

Seonghwa grabs your hand and wedges himself through the crowd and into the empty kitchen, leaving Daniel alone. The loud music quiets down to a less deafening volume, yet the loud voices from people are still evident from around the house. Alcohol, empty cups, and chips are lined up on the kitchen island, and he lets go of your hand before you watch him as he starts mixing two drinks.

“What just happened?” Is all you finally manage to say as Seonghwa locks his focus on the drinks.

“He and his friends.. bad news.” He explains and you watch him pour alcohol and soda into the cups. His black slightly curly hair falls down on his face again, and together with his big black sweater, he gives a relaxed vibe, despite being in the chaotic household.

“Really? He seemed cool.” You don’t know much about these parties, but Daniel seemed nice, and not like “bad news” as Seonghwa called him.

“Yeah, they do until they get you drunk and take advantage of you.” His words make it sound like this has happened before. He doesn’t keep his eyes on you much, too focused on making the drinks as he takes a quick sip of one of them. He doesn’t look fully satisfied and continues to mix some more soda into the cups.

“Do you know him?” You ask.

“I know about him, but I saw him approach you and the way he spoke to you.” He grabs a spoon and uses it to mix the liquids in the cups. His words have you tilting your head slightly.

“You were watching me?” You ask, narrowing your eyes jokingly at him. Seonghwa smiles to himself, avoiding your eyes, and keeps his gaze on the drinks. 

“Here..“ He hands out one of the cups to you, ignoring your question. He finally looks into your eyes and the big brown eyes lock with yours as you take the drink. “He and his friends had hidden the taste of alcohol so you would get drunk quicker,” He explains before taking a quick sip of his cup. “Never take drinks from strangers.” 

“Kinda suspicious saying that after handing me a drink, don’t you think?” You ask, lifting the cup to your lips. You let the liquid make its way into your mouth, and you're instantly impressed with the flavor. It doesn’t taste a lot like alcohol, but you also noticed how much soda Seonghwa added to the drinks compared to the amount of alcohol. 

Seonghwa sends you a warm smile. “I’m Seonghwa.” He says.

“I know.” You say before telling him your name in return.

“I know. We have class together.” His words leave you slightly speechless. Never had you noticed his eyes on you or heard your name escape through his lips. Sitting at the other end of the classroom, not being part of the same friend groups, never sharing a conversation. It honestly made sense if he didn’t have any idea of your existence. 

“I didn’t think you had noticed me,” You say quietly, trying to hide your blushing cheeks. His soft piercing eyes had a bigger effect on you than you cared to admit. “In a class with 95 other students, I feel like it’s pretty easy to blend in.” 

He shakes his head. “Nah, I see you in class..” The way his eyes continue to show warmth and friendliness, despite never looking into them for this long, have your knees softening. “You have a very innocent face. Like an angel,” His words make you forget everything for a second, never having heard that compliment before. “But I usually see you with this other girl, I think I saw a glimpse of her and Mingi tonight.” 

Hearing how your best friend successfully made a move on Mingi, somehow makes you feel a little better for her leaving you. At least her plan worked.

“Speaking of her..” You start, looking at your cup. “What do you think of her?” Your curiosity got the best of you. Talking to Seonghwa, one of her many crushes, could open your chances of being a wonderful wingman for your friend.

A wrinkle formed between Seonghwa’s brows as he tried reading where this conversation was heading. His skepticism of the topic held him back from answering, so you decided to expose your friend.

“My friend has a little crush on you. That’s why I’m asking.” You shrug, and Seonghwa let out an awkward laugh.

“Oh... I haven’t spoken with her enough to have an opinion. She seems nice though.” It didn’t seem like he was ecstatic at the information about your friend’s crush on him. But Seonghwa seemed like the guy to get confessions from girls a few times a week, so this probably wasn’t new to him.

“I’m just saying... If you want to shoot your shot with her, she won't decline.” You’re working your hardest, trying to be the best wingman for your friend. If only she knew that you were spending your time talking to her crush about her, while she was shootig her shot at someone else.

Seonghwa seem to have the same train of thought. 

"Are you trying to set me up with your friend while she's visibly trying to hook up with my friend?" There's a smile on his lips, slight confusion evident in his voice.

"Look, I'm just trynna be a good wingman here." You hold up your hands like you're innocent, earning a chuckle from Seonghwa.

“Well, maybe... But I’m kinda busy tonight trying to save this girl from some creep trying to get her drunk at this party.” A smirk formed on Seonghwa’s lips and the urge to roll your eyes rushed over you. 

His brown eyes were slightly hidden by his black hair, and as much as you hated to admit it, you felt intrigued by him. He had a certain charm and friendliness that made you addicted to his presence, and despite only talking for a short amount of time, you’re already more than comfortable around him.

“You don’t think I’m able to take care of myself?” You ask teasingly.

“Oh, I know you can take care of yourself. But when you see a blind person crossing the street, you still offer help, even though they know how to walk by themselves.” His anecdote had you smiling. He lifts his cup slightly in your direction, still with a smirk decorating his lips. “Cheers, angel face.” His smirk hides behind his cup as he keeps his eyes on you. Never did you think your best friend’s crush would be your savior of the night, but you find yourself more comfortable with him than anyone else at this party so far.

You both lift each of your cups to your mouth, and you taste the sweet taste on your tongue. Seonghwa’s eyes linger on you while he also takes a sip, and you’re glad you can blame the warmth in your cheeks on the alcohol. 

The two of you start various conversations in the middle of the kitchen, barely noticing the people around you, and you use this time to try and get to know Seonghwa. He's making you laugh, telling you stories about previous parties, and telling you about his friend group. You try opening up to him as well, but you realize how his life is much more exciting than yours. But Seonghwa is very accommodating and asks multiple questions about you, making you feel welcome. 

It makes you feel better, having someone to talk to in this crowded house of strangers, but as you're about to say something, a presence enters the kitchen, stealing Seonghwa’s attention from you.

“Seonghwa! I’ve been looking for you!” The female voice bursts out, and you look at the doorway to see a beautiful girl walking towards Seonghwa. Instantly, your confidence falls to the ground, as the popular girl steals the popular guy from you. 

You watch as she walks past you, barely paying you any attention as she steps in front of you so she can talk to Seonghwa. Your feet take a few steps back, allowing her the space she needs. Seonghwa notices how you move away and he looks down at the intruder. 

“Oh, sorry, can I talk to you in a minute? I have-”

“You said that before too!” The girl interrupts, and you meet Seonghwa’s apologetic eyes. You know you’re not usually a part of this environment, and the people used to these parties probably know each other in a way you don’t. You send Seonghwa a smile and take a few steps toward the doorway.

“It’s fine, I have to find my friend... Thank you for this.” You hold up the drink before making your way out of the kitchen. You ignore the small crack in your heart as you walk away, actually not wanting to stop your conversation with Seonghwa. You’re thankful for him saving you, but you don’t want to hold him back from talking to his friends at the party. You decide not to look back at Seonghwa as you make your way through the crowd. What you don’t see is Seonghwa’s locked gaze on you as you walk away, barely listening to the girl in front of him. 

You choose to look after your friend, deciding on her behalf that she has spent enough time with Mingi. What you didn’t expect, was to search for her everywhere for what felt like hours. You even ended up searching for Mingi, but both of them seemed gone like the wind. Going around the crowded house multiple times, trying to find a familiar face was an impossible mission. The thought of leaving did cross your mind, but you were in an unfamiliar neighborhood all the way across town. Getting a cab would be expensive as hell, and since you expected to share a cap with your friend, you weren’t keen on the idea of paying twice as much for a ride home. You therefore decide to stay, hopefully finding your best friend sooner or later.

The softness of the couch felt like a reward as you sat down amid the crowd, relaxing your legs. You wrote a mental note to yourself to never let your friend leave you in the middle of a party where you know literally zero people. 

The couch gets another visitor, and you look to your side to see a smile in your direction.

“Guess you didn’t find your friend?” Seonghwa asks, earning a shake of your head.

“Nope. She’s literally gone with the wind.” You lean further back on the couch when Seonghwa hands out a cup for you.

“No thank you, I don’t feel like drinking anymore.” 

“Good thing it’s water then. I figured you weren’t in the mood for alcohol.” He sends you a warm smile, and you see the clear liquid in the cup. 

You always saw Seonghwa as the friendly type, but he also seemed kind, funny, and thoughtful. He’s like your knight in shining armor tonight, saving you from the villains, who happen to be drunk frat guys. 

“You know, a guy once told me to never take drinks from strangers, so I don’t think I can accept this.” Despite being in a bad mood, you still find the energy to tease Seonghwa, and he responds by rolling his eyes with a smile.

“Good thing I’m not a stranger then, but a guy from your class slash guy who saved you from getting too drunk slash your best friend’s crush.” He extends his arm with the cup for you to take, and you chuckle as you accept the water. Him addressing himself as “your best friend’s crush” kicks you in the head, as you didn’t expect to suddenly feel a certain type of way about that title.

If your best friend hadn’t been crushing on Seonghwa for months, you would have allowed the caged butterflies in your stomach to break free, but you couldn’t. You’re not a bad friend.

“Good point. Thank you.” 

“What have you been doing all night? besides talking to creepy frat guys and sitting here?” Seonghwa keeps his soft eyes on you, and a deep sigh leaves between your lips. Is now the time you break to Seonghwa what you’ve been doing all night, or should you make it sound like you had the time of your life?

You decide on the first one.

“Oh, I had one hell of a night. I spent 25 minutes on the bathroom floor upstairs because I didn’t know where else to go. It has underfloor heating if that sounds tempting.” You take a sip of the water, letting the cold freshness hit you. 

“Wow, I kinda wish that was me.” He jokingly replies.

“I have something better... someone spilled this weird green substance all over my arm, which probably completely ruined my shirt. Then I walked around the house six times, went outside to get some air, and now I’m here.” You look to see his brown eyes full of amusement looking back at you, and him trying his best to hide the smile on his lips.

“You’re right, that is better.” He says, and you can’t help but chuckle at the way your night has been so far. 

Your eyes travel around the crowd, and they instantly dwell on the girl who interrupted your conversation with Seonghwa earlier. She’s standing in the crowd, surrounded by her friends, but her eyes are locked on Seonghwa. It’s obvious to you that she’s trying to get his attention, and seeing how popular Seonghwa is amongst the girls, you’re reminded of how different the two of you are.

He likes to party, he’s popular, and all the girls in school love him because of his handsome looks and welcoming personality... On the other hand, you barely know anyone, like to stay home to watch a movie by yourself, and have not once had any romantic interaction with any guy from your school.

“You seem quite popular,” You say quietly, feeling Seonghwa’s eyes on you for more context. You point to the girl on the dance floor, and as he lays his eyes on the girl, she sends him a small wave. You can’t help but look at Seonghwa to see his reaction, but he simply sends her a smile in return. Your eyes flicker between them for a moment. “Don’t let me hold you back if you wanna talk to her.”

“Hey, can I show you something?” He suddenly asks, changing the subject. His gaze goes back to you, and you look at him with squinted eyes.

“I hate these questions. It can either be a wart on the ass, a beautiful sunset, or anything in between.” Your words have him almost breaking into a laugh, but he tries his best to keep his cool.

“If I promise it isn’t a wart on my ass, will you come with me?” He asks with a raised brow. 

“I’m not sure.” 

“Suit yourself then.” He stands up from the couch like he knows you'll get up to follow him. And without looking back at you, he senses your presence behind him, and he takes you to the first floor. The crowd is much thinner up here, easier to talk.

“Alright, wait here..” He turns around to you, and you look at him patiently as he sends you a warm smile. His tall frame walks past you and heads downstairs once again, and you stand patiently in the hallway. 

What you see up here, isn’t surprising to you. Couples enter the first floor, hand in hand, find themselves in an empty room, and lock the door behind them immediately after. It doesn’t take a genius to know what’s happening behind the door, and a slight worry washes over you. What does Seonghwa want up here? Is he actually like the boys you hear about, who messes with girls at parties and leaves them right after? When is he coming back? 

And you have plenty of time to think those things through because after 25 minutes, Seonghwa is still nowhere to be seen. You’re left in the hallway, couples entering and exiting the different rooms, and you’re still leaning up against the wall Seonghwa left you at. Deciding you’ve waited enough, your feet start to move.

You decide to walk downstairs again, not knowing what to expect when he left you in the empty hallway. But when you see him talking and laughing with that girl from earlier in the middle of the crowd, you feel stupid for waiting so long.

Seonghwa is popular, and girls love him. You understand why they do, so you can’t even blame him for constantly being busy talking to people. The thoughts are quickly pushed out of your head, as you make your way upstairs again and lock yourself into the bathroom for the second time tonight. 

You don’t know how much time you spend in the bathroom, only sitting on the heated floor in your own company as you wait for a cab to arrive and take you home. You’ve decided you’d rather pay for the expensive ride home than be all alone at this party. After receiving a message that the cab is near, you open the door and surprise hits you when you see who waits on the other side. 

Seonghwa, breathing heavily like he had been running around, is leaning against the door frames, trapping you inside the bathroom. A sight of relief flashes through his eyes when he sees you, and you’re taken aback by his tall frame in front of you.

“How’d you know I was here?” You ask.

“Underfloor heating.” He simply replies, and you mentally curse at yourself for exposing your hiding place earlier. “I’ve been looking for you, why did you go?”

You take a moment to figure out how to answer, not wanting to make it sound like you're mad, because honestly, you're not. You're just tired of running around, searching for people when you'd rather be home.

“Well... you left me standing alone for 25 minutes and then I saw you downstairs talking to your friends, so I just decided to go.” The awkward smile on your lips sums up the emotions you're feeling. "It's fine though, don't worry about it."

Seonghwa’s shoulders fall and regret washes over him.

“I didn’t-..” He stops mid-sentence and looks around before making his way into the bathroom with you and locking the door behind him. The two of you are now completely alone, separating yourself from the party and blasting music downstairs. “Shit, sorry.. Hey, I didn’t mean to leave you like that. I was gonna show you the balcony but I needed the keys from one of the guys here, but then my friend Wooyoung got in a fight and this girl from before wouldn’t let me leave alone and then-”

“Seonghwa, it’s okay, you really don’t have to explain..” You interrupt Seonghwa before he loses his own breath. “You’re at a party and you should enjoy yourself with all of your friends. I promise you don’t have to feel bad, the two of us aren’t even friends. I just called a cap anyway so I’m going home.”

“Home? Where do you live?”

You tell him your address and his brows nearly shoot up in the ceiling. 

“You know how expensive a cab is gonna be from here? It’s all the way across town.” He says as if you weren’t perfectly aware of the situation.

“I don’t have much choice.” You shrug.

“You can stay?” 

“And be surrounded by strangers with no one to talk to besides creepy dudes who tryna get me drunk? No, thank you.” You scoff at the idea of staying, already surprised you aren’t home in your bed already. As much as you hate to admit it, Seonghwa was the reason why you stayed even longer, but you not knowing anyone at the party, isn't his responsibility. He should have fun with his friends. Not be your babysitter.

“Well, I’m coming with you then.” His words shoot out of his mouth and hit you like a bullet. You did not expect this answer, but you shake your head in response to him.

“No, don’t. You seem to have a great time here, and I can take a cap myself.” 

“I know you can, but I’ll have to take a cap later eventually and I don’t wanna pay all of that money. This way, we’ll split.” His reasoning does make sense, but you still feel like you’re robbing him from having fun at the party.

“Are you sure? I don’t want-”

“Come on, stop trying to convince me otherwise. Let’s just go.” Before you get to say anything, Seonghwa grabs your hand, locks your fingers with his, and opens the bathroom door. You try to ignore the way your hand feels in his, as he makes his way downstairs with you behind him, his large frame shielding you from the people in the crowd. He makes sure to look back at you, ensuring himself he isn’t losing you out of his sight again, already feeling terrible for leaving you like he did.

As he finally sees the front door, he abruptly stops when he notices the group by the exit. Your body almost crashes into his, but he’s quick to turn around and stop you. Worry flashes in his eyes, and you suddenly have no idea what to expect, but he’s quick to notice the way his action affects you and informs you of the situation.

“Alright, don’t look, but the guy, Daniel, from earlier and his friends are standing by the door... I really don’t trust them so just stay behind me. Okay?” He tries his best not to worry you, but you see the way his eyes look and you’re not certain of the situation. But despite the growing knot in your stomach, you nod before he turns around and makes his way to the front door. 

You try your best to do as Seonghwa said and stay close to him, and you have a slight hope that the group of guys won’t notice you and Seonghwa leaving, but it quickly falls to the ground when Daniel steps in front of Seonghwa. Your body hides behind Seonghwa as he just stares Daniel straight in the eyes, waiting for him to let you guys through the door.

“Hey, sorry to bother you two again, but I didn't get your name earlier.. Haven’t I seen you before?” Daniel questions, obviously trying to provoke Seonghwa in some way.

“I don’t know, your face doesn’t seem recognizable.” Seonghwa responds, only stirring the pot, trying to annoy Daniel. A scoff leaves Daniel, and you feel the knot in your stomach grow. You really want to get out of here, as you don’t feel safe around this Daniel-guy. 

You squeeze Seonghwa’s hand in yours, trying to get his attention. “Seonghwa-”

“Ohhhh, now I know! You’re the Seonghwa. Park Seonghwa, the one who is friends with San and Wooyoung!” Daniel shouts, interrupting you. You notice how people have started gathering around you like they’re waiting for something to happen. This only makes you even more nervous about the situation, and Seonghwa instantly notices your reaction to the crowd around you.

“Listen, if you have anything going on with them, it’s not my problem. Just let us get out of here.” Seonghwa’s words are soft like he doesn’t want to make the situation worse. 

“Of course... Can you just give this to your friends then?” Daniel holds out a closed fist, waiting for Seonghwa to hold out his hand. But before Seonghwa gets to react, Daniel swings his arm and a punch is thrown at Seonghwa’s face. A loud gasp flies out of your mouth, and your free hand covers your mouth in shock. Your heart is beating faster than ever, almost messing up your breathing.

Seonghwa’s body turns, and he hunches over from the hit. His free hand goes to his mouth, where the salty, metallic taste of blood hits him. 

“Tell your friends I said hi.” Daniel takes a step forward, hunching down close to Seonghwa as he speaks hushed to Seonghwa only. “I know the people around you, Seonghwa... I’ve seen your little girlfriend now too, so don’t fuck with me.” Daniel bites before making his way through the big crowd of people, now surrounding you. Seonghwa removes his hand to see blood coming from his lip, and for a split second, he almost loses his cool. 

Daniel's friends follow him, a few of them knocking their shoulders into Seonghwa purposefully, before they all disappear into the crowd. Whispers from the staring eyes surrounding you start, and Seonghwa stands up straight before heading in the direction Daniel went. As he takes the first step, he feels a pull from his hand, and when he turns around, his heart almost breaks.

You stand before him, tears forming in your eyes, silently begging him not to go after the group. Everything stops when he sees the look in your eyes. You look scared, concerned, worried. It breaks his heart in a way he never expected, so he squeezes your hand, still in his, and looks you soft in the eyes.

“Let’s go.” He says before dragging you with him out of the house, leaving the chaotic scene. The cap is outside waiting for you, and Seonghwa helps you inside before getting in the cap himself. He tells the driver your address, remembering from when you told him before and he looks at you concerned. “Hey, are you okay?”

Your gaze shoots at him, slightly confused with his question. “Am I okay? You just got punched in the face.”

“I’m fine... But you’re crying.” 

You hadn’t noticed your tears before he mentioned it, and you rub your eyes, removing the evidence. The sight of Seonghwa getting punched in the face replays in your head.

“It looked scary... Seeing you being punched like that.” You don’t know what to say, looking down at your hands, resting on your lap. You feel the rush of guilt over you for having Seonghwa interact with Daniel tonight because of you. 

“I’ll just put some ice on it when I get home. It’ll probably bruise a little, but that’s all.” He tries searching for your gaze, but you keep avoiding him.

A silence fills the car, the only sound coming from the low radio in the cap. The streetlights pass you as you’re on your way home. After hours of being in the house with loud music, it should feel relieving to sit in the silence of the car. But your mind is running wild, thoughts louder than any music.

Seonghwa is about to open his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it.

“You do this a lot? Get into fights? If I hadn’t pulled you back I’m scared you would’ve gotten into a real fight.” You finally get the courage to look at him, and he immediately shakes his head.

“No... I would’ve told him to leave us alone. Leave you alone.” He replies softly, but you still have questions flooding your mind.

“Why did he want to fight? Are your friends.. dangerous?” 

Seonghwa seems taken aback by your questions and shakes his head again.

“Noo, no no, not at all! San and Wooyoung just like to pull pranks on people, and some people take their pranks a little more seriously than they intend to.” Seonghwa begins explaining, not wanting to hide anything from you. “Remember the fight I told you Wooyoung got in earlier? It was with one of the guys from Daniel's friend group, and I guess Daniel and his friends are some of those people who take their pranks a little too personally.” He tries reading the look on your face, but the cap is dark, only lit up by the streetlights outside. But the silence coming from you is enough for him to know how you feel. “I’ll talk to San tomorrow and make sure this won’t happen again. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

A heavy sigh escapes Seonghwa as he runs his fingers through his hair, the weighing feeling on his shoulders feels unbearable as the night escalated from the beginning. From the moment he saw you, he felt like he needed to protect you. Step in and make you feel safe and comfortable at the party. But as he kept talking to you, he found himself not wanting to go from you. But he kept doing so. He kept messing it up for himself, and he couldn’t stop mentally cursing at himself for doing this to you. For ruining your night, when all you deserved was a simple friend to hang out with.

He’s about to open his mouth and apologize for making your night shitty, but your words stop him.

“Please let me help you with your lip, you need to get some ice on that. That’s the least I can do.”

Confusion hits him, not sure he heard you right.

“What do you mean? This didn’t happen because of you.” He points at his mouth, blood still visible from the busted lip.

“But I feel like if I hadn’t talked to him, you wouldn’t have had to step in and save me from getting dead drunk. Please, I really want to help, you can also sleep on the couch if you wanna stay over. I have a pretty good couch if I do say so myself.” 

Seonghwa doesn’t know what to say. His eyes just soften even more at the sight of you blaming yourself for something out of your control. 

“But-”

“Seonghwa.” You insist again, not backing down. The guilt is taking up most of the space in your stomach, so you need him to accept your offer. He looks at you for a moment, trying to see who of the two of you backs down first. But a deep sigh leaves between Seonghwa’s lips as he realizes how stubborn you are.

“Sure.”

Silence surrounds the both of you for the rest of the ride to your apartment complex, and you feel him follow you as you exit the cap and make your way to your apartment. None of you said a word to the other in the elevator to your floor, both exhausted from the chaotic night. You unlock your front door as he awaits behind you, and he takes in the sight of your home when you both enter.

“Just... act like you’re home, you can get comfortable on the couch while I find something for your lip.” You throw your keys and purse on the small table in the hallway, before disappearing into the kitchen. 

Seonghwa slowly makes his way further into your apartment while you find what’s necessary. You find some frozen peas in your freezer and wrap the bag in a towel so I won’t be too cold on his lip. Having Seonghwa in your apartment was definitely not something you ever expected to happen, but your mind is running on survival mode after the chaotic night. You also find some vaseline for the wound, along with some saltwater. 

As you enter the living room, Seonghwa is studying the pictures decorating your wall. His relaxed figure, hands resting in his front pockets as he studies the pictures with a small smile. 

He seems too focused on the decor in your apartment to notice your presence. “Seonghwa,” You say and he turns around, immediately looking at you with the cleaning kit you’ve gathered. “Couch.” 

“Yes, boss.” Despite the weird tension from the fight, he still manages to tease you as you both get comfortable on the couch. You turn on a small lamp behind the couch to get a better view of his wound, and you start rinsing his lip with the saltwater. 

He winces at the touch, and you look apologetic at him as you continue to remove the dried blood from his lip. You try to make it quick, not wanting him to be in more pain, and quickly put pressure on the lip with the frozen peas. 

“Hold this.” You say.

Seonghwa goes to grab the bag and his large hand covers yours while doing so. You can’t help but notice how small your hand is compared to his, and the warmth from his adds a significant contrast to the frozen peas, freezing in your palm. Shocked by the feeling he gives you, you pull your hand away, leaving him to hold the peas alone against his lip.

“It feels nice,” His voice gets deeper as he relaxes on your couch and leans back. “You really are an angel, aren't you?” There's a teasing in his voice, but the words have a bigger chokehold on you than you would like to admit. 

Seonghwa’s eyes close, and you take this opportunity to really study his features, and the first thing you notice is how incredibly handsome he is. His black hair looks more messy compared to the beginning of the night, now constantly resting before his eyes. He hasn’t done anything to fix it for a while, and a part of you wants to remove it, but the messy look suits him better than ever. 

He looks so soft relaxing against the pillows on your couch, the light behind you perfectly highlighting certain parts of his face. His lips are slightly parted, long eyelashes resting on the top of his cheekbones and his breathing gets softer the more relaxed he is. 

Before you catch yourself doing something you might regret, you shake your head to yourself and look away from him.

“Thank you for helping me tonight. My impression of you has only gotten better.” You say, breaking the silence. Tonight’s party left you with a weird feeling, but if it hadn’t been for Seonghwa, you wouldn’t even imagine what would have happened to you.

His eyes open, instantly focusing on you with a soft look. 

“Did you have a bad impression of me before?” He asks curiously. 

“No, not at all. Tonight just confirmed that you don’t fit into the popular-asshole-category. More the popular-nice-guy-category.” Your shoulders lift to a shrug, and your eyes lock in the dimmed light. You notice a flash of something unknown in his eyes as the words leave your mouth. He gets silent once again, looking away from you before taking a deep breath.

“I don’t see myself as popular thought.” He admits. You suddenly wish he could see himself from your perspective. This man was the blueprint of the perfect, popular guy. Has many friends, is nice, is invited to all the parties, everyone knows him. Not to forget all the girls searching for his attention. 

“Are you serious? The amount of girls I saw drooling over you tonight, is actually insane.” 

“Yeah, but they just want me to fuck them,” His eyes shoot back at you. “It’s only superficial from their side.” 

You’re taken aback by the way this conversation is going, not knowing how to respond. There’s a subtle hint of hurt in his voice, but also acceptance. Like this is just the way it is. 

“Sounds like you’ve got some experience with that.” You say.

“Mhm.. That’s how it is with these people,” He shrugs, still relaxing against the big cushions on the couch, letting his eyes travel away from you to gather his thoughts. “You party at the same house, with the same people with the same mindset, every weekend. Maybe, you find someone interesting, take them to an empty room, and you fuck each other. Then you walk out of there and don’t talk until the next party, where you fuck again. These people want to feel love, but they don’t actually want it.” 

The way he talks about the parties sounds similar to how your best friend describes them. She loves the chaotic energy it brings, how people are kind of the same, looking for the same thing. But Seonghwa’s description doesn’t sound as appealing as when she talks about it. And it all reminds you again, why you aren’t going to these parties every weekend.

“Do you want it?” You ask. “Love?”

“I want it with the right person,” He still looks away from you, letting out his thoughts. “I used to like this environment. Going to parties, having girls throw themselves at me, feeling like I could get whatever I wanted without having to make an effort. It made me feel.. powerful. But I also started to feel used. Like I wasn’t more than a good fuck to them.”

He then looks back at you, and you now understand where the hurt in his voice came from. 

Never had you expected this about Seonghwa, he always seemed like he thrived in the popularity and the benefits that came with it. 

But maybe he was right. It is all superficial.

“Well, not to be that person, but I feel like they’re missing out if they don’t get to know you.” You send him a smile, trying your best to light the mood with the truth in your words. 

“And you say that like you know me.” His lips tug into a smirk.

“I feel like I’m starting to have a pretty good idea of who you are.”

“And who am I?”

You take a moment to think, considering the pros and cons of telling him.

“I don’t wanna say, in case I’m wrong and it bites me in the ass.” Your words leave him smiling. This side of Seonghwa is the purest you’ve seen so far. 

In class, he’s usually very talkative and once again, popular. But this Seonghwa, who’s opening up to you like you’ve known each other for years, has a depth you have never seen in him. And the more you get to know him, the less you understand how someone can sleep with him and not feel the need to know him for him. 

Just by the conversations you’ve shared tonight, you’re intrigued by his welcoming personality, his need to protect the ones around him, and his warm smile. 

You look away from his eyes and down to the frozen bag of peas, still pressed against his lip. “How does your lip feel?”

“Swollen. Is it?” He removes the bag and turns his head so you can get a better view of the busted lip. The light from the lamp behind you doesn’t really do its justice, and only creates shadows from your heads instead. 

“Turn your head to the light,” You guide him, and he turns again but it doesn’t help. “Here, let me.” 

You gently grab a hold of his face and scoop closer to him as you turn his head. The light perfectly shows you the condition of his lip, and you do your best to see any swelling. But the more you look at his lips, you can’t seem to look away. 

They’re slightly parted, and as he gently relaxes in your hands, you can’t help but realize how perfect they look. The color, the shape. Everything comes together, and you suddenly wonder how it would be to be kissed by those lips. How soft of a kiss he would leave on your lips, or how they could leave traces of kisses down your skin. All while speaking with the mildness in his voice, and the gentle touch from his fingers travel over you.

You suddenly realize where your thoughts were taking you, and you look up to his eyes, to see him stare back at you. 

Heart pounding hard against your chest, you let go of his face and scoop away from him on the couch.

“Uhm, it looks okay, just make sure to put on the Vaseline and you’ll be good,” You stand up from the couch and point to the blankets next to him. “There are blankets and pillows on the couch, so make yourself at home, and if you need anything just knock on my door.” You rub your palms on your hips, trying to get rid of the sweatiness.

Seonghwa looks up at you from the couch, sending you a smile.

“Alright. Thank you.” 

Not knowing what to do and mentally cursing yourself for having those thoughts about him, you quickly make your way to your bedroom. 

“Goodnight, Seonghwa.” 

“Goodnight, angel.”

***

Nervous to open the door from your bedroom, you take a deep breath before pulling down the handle. Silence rings in the hallway leading to the living room where Seonghwa slept for the night. 

Your roaming mind had Seonghwa as the main character in your thoughts the entire night. After getting closer to each other last night, you had no idea how to behave normally in the morning. But you slowly made your way down the hallway, towards the living room, expecting to see Seonghwa on the couch. But when you peek your head out, afraid to wake him up in case he is still sleeping, you see an empty couch, blankets nicely folded and pillows perfectly lined up. 

Your brows come together in question at the sight, but you quickly notice what awaits you on the small table by the couch. You step closer to see a coffee and a small brown bag with a sticky note attached to it. 

Confusion speaks for itself when you grab the sticky note from the bag and look around the living room before reading.

Good morning! Hope you slept well! :) My boss called me.. Someone called in sick and  they needed one asap, so I had to step in.. Sorry to leave out of the blue, but I made a quick  run to the cafe on the corner and bought you some breakfast as a thank you for the help last night! 

Have a good day, angel

A smile creeps up on your lips as you read the note. Curiosity washes over you and you open the small brown bag, to find a bun and a chocolate muffin waiting for you. You look at the iced coffee, still cold with ice slowly melting, indicating he didn’t leave a long time ago. 

Once again, you feel a warmth in your body, and you slowly allow the caged butterflies to escape. 

***

New week, same school day, same seat. Nothing feels different when you sit in your classroom, on Monday morning, waiting for the day to start. You’ve gathered the things you need for the first class, writing some notes in your notebook when you feel a presence looking at you.

“Hi...” Your best friend says, looking guilty. 

You haven’t spoken to her since she left you at the party, and you would lie if you said you weren’t a little disappointed in her for ditching you the way she did.

You simply give her a cold smile and look back down at your notes. She knows you well, and you’re not furious with her - she knows that. It takes a lot for you to get actually angry at people, but she deserved the cold shoulder for a bit

“I’m so sorry for disappearing at the party,” She sits down on the chair next to you. “Really, that was so shitty of me.”

“Yes, it was.”

“I promise it won’t happen again.” Her whole body is turned towards you as you are silently giving her the side-eye, but as mad as you try to be, you can’t. You genuinely want to show her how disappointed you are, but if she hadn’t left you at the party, you wouldn’t have spoken to Seonghwa in the first place. Her crush. So not saying you’re happy she left you, but you definitely see the positive in this situation, which in this case happens to be a dark-haired boy with a busted lip. 

“Hm..” You respond, looking back in your notes. 

You feel her eyes on you for a moment, before she leans forward and whispers in your ear.

“Mingi and I really had fun though, he’s so sweet.” The smile is evident in her voice, and you finally turn your head to look at her.

“Well, I’m glad ditching me had its benefits.” Your words seem to finally get her to understand the situation, and she takes a moment to read your eyes and feel the disappointment.

“I’m sorry.. Really.” Her voice softens, filled with genuine guilt and you send her a broken smile.

“It’s fine.”

You both exchange warm looks before she unpacks and you both silently decide to move on.

“Did you have fun at the party, though? Did you talk to anyone?” She asks, back to normal like nothing happened. 

You freeze for a moment, deciding if you should lie or tell the truth. You still hadn’t decided if you should ever tell her that you had her crush staying over at your place and that he happened to be your knight in shining armor. You know she’s been crushing on a few guys from school, some more than others, but you also know that Seonghwa is one of her favorites. Multiple times, she has opened up about how bad she wants him and that he’s, quote on quote; “Made for her”. If you tell her the situation, you’re scared she’ll get mad at you for breaking the girl code. 

Your friend’s crush is off limits.

You know you haven’t done anything wrong, and nothing happened between you and Seonghwa, so you decide there's no need for her to know about anything.

“I talked to a few here and there.” Is all you say about the situation.

“How did you get home? Did you take a cab by yourself? I hope it wasn’t too expensive.” 

Once again, you take a moment to figure out what to answer, without saying her crush actually paid for the shared ride home to your apartment.

“I shared a cap with someone who was going the same way as me.” You respond, hoping she won’t ask further, but you quickly notice she’s barely listening.

“He’s so fucking hot...” She mumbles, and your eyes search for whoever her gaze is locked on, but you quickly realize when you see who enters the room. 

Seonghwa is walking into the classroom with his bag hanging on his shoulder and messy black wavy hair. He’s wearing a shaded blue denim jacket with a white tee underneath and black loose jeans. He looks so put together, even if he isn’t even trying, and for the first time since you started school, you’ve become one of those girls who stare at him when he enters the class. 

You expect him to sit at his usual seat on the other side of the room, but he confidently walks past it and towards your side. This catches your attention even more, leaving you and your best friend in awe as you see him walk closer to you. 

Seonghwa finds a seat a few seats in front of you, and as he swings the bag of his shoulder, his eyes meet yours. 

They’re warm and he locks his gaze on you while a smile creeps up on his lips. You can’t help but smile back like you’re both silently saying hello to each other through your eyes. This is the first time you’ve made eye contact with Seonghwa in class, and you can’t seem to look away while he smiles at you. 

But trying not to be too obvious, you force yourself to look away before he sits down, and your gaze goes to the notebook in front of you.

“Did you see that?” You hear your best friend say.

“What?”

“He smiled at me.” Your eyes shoot to her, confused to see her stare at Seonghwa who now sits down in his seat, back facing you. Not being able to open your mouth and tell her that he was actually smiling at you, you bite your words and start scribbling on your notebook.

“Oh.. I didn’t see.”

“Did you hear he got into a fight at the party?” She leans towards you, ready to start gossiping. 

A fight. The party. Daniel.

In panic, you shake your head and pretend you didn’t witness it, front row.

“Shit, I hoped you had seen it so you could tell me the details. But people say it was about a girl.” 

“What?”

People? Are people talking? About you? And Seonghwa?

“I know, that’s what I said. A girl was with him when it happened but they apparently left right after. They don’t know who she is, probably just someone’s plus one.” She shrugs and starts scribbling something in her own notebook.

You feel horrible knowing the exact situation, and not being able to tell your best friend the details. But one of the reasons you also hated these parties was the drama. The newest gossip after a spicy weekend. People always had something to say, and you didn’t want to be the next hot topic.

“What about you and Mingi, though? You’re gonna start seeing him?” You look at her, trying to change the subject. It seems to work because your best friend just shrugs as she looks unbothered by the whole situation. 

“Nah, you know how I am. I’m not looking for anything serious, I like to have my options open.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, and Seonghwa's words replay in your mind. 

Maybe, you find someone interesting, take them to an empty room, and you fuck each other. Then you walk out of there and don’t talk until the next party, where you fuck again. These people want to feel love, but they don’t actually want it.

It leaves another taste in your mouth when you know how Seonghwa has opened up to you about how he feels, about going to these parties. 

But I also started to feel used. Like I wasn’t more than a good fuck to them.

You had a certain respect for your best friend for doing whatever she wanted, but you also found Seonghwa’s feelings valid. There had to be a downside to the popularity and girls wanting to sleep with you without attachments. 

Your thoughts about Saturday's events are slowly replaced when class starts, and the focus is on the teacher in front of the whiteboard. Class goes by rather quickly, and students then leave the classroom to go to the next one. Having to exchange the books for the new class, you make your way to your locker, after agreeing to meet your best friend at the classroom.

You’re in your own world when a tall frame suddenly stands beside you. 

“Hey.” Seonghwa’s warm voice slightly surprises you. This is the first time you’ve spoken in school, and somehow, it almost feels illegal.

“Oh... Hi.”

“I just wanted to apologize for disappearing yesterday without saying goodbye. I just didn’t want to wake you up.” You can see the clear guilt in his eyes, and you immediately shake your head as you grab the new books from your locker. 

“Don’t worry about it, It’s totally fine. I appreciated the breakfast though.” 

He somehow seems taller today, looking down at you. His sharp features look as perfect as they did on Saturday, his eyes looking like the entire universe could fit into them. 

“Yeah, I thought I had to thank you in some way for letting me stay the night. And for taking care of my lip.” 

You notice the dark mark on his lip as he talks, the wound already healing. 

“I think my frozen peas did most of the work, but you’re welcome. Does it hurt?” You still can’t help but feel a little guilty for him getting punched in the face, but you’re glad to see it heal this fast.

“No, it’s only a bit bruised, but I’ll be as good as new in a few days. Will I see you at the party on Friday?” He relaxes with his hands in his pockets as he leans up against the lockers.

You realize again how he has this typical popular-boy-charm. He looks cool and could make anyone believe he could have the world in his hands if he wanted to. 

“Uhm.. I don’t usually party multiple weekends in a row.”

“I know, that’s why I’m asking.”

He’s quick with his words, and he doesn’t hide the smirk on his bruised lip as he smiles at you. You take a moment to think.

“I have to work, so I can’t.” You excuse, while actually telling the truth. 

“Oh, where do you work?” A small wrinkle forms between his brows.

“At the mall, I have a closing shift... But I hope you’ll have fun at the party though. As much as I appreciate you keeping me company last Saturday, I think it’s good you get to spend time with your friends instead of taking care of me, who apparently doesn’t know how to take care of myself.” You laugh at yourself, trying to make light of the situation, and before Seonghwa can answer, someone snatches his attention. 

“Hwa!” Seonghwa’s friend group all stare at the two of you talking, some of them indicating him to come as they are headed to class. 

“l have to go.. I’ll see you around?” He slowly backs away and doesn’t turn around until you nod and he sends a smile in your direction, as he runs after his friends.

***

Another sigh leaves you as you look away from the words written in your book. You don't know how long your eyes have been going over the same sentence, trying to get the words to stick to your brain, but it’s simply impossible at this point. 

Your eyes travel around the library from your seat, looking at the multiple other students here to expand their knowledge. The old books decorating the walls around you help with concentration, almost as if you feel bad for not studying while they’re watching. 

You take off your headphones, needing a break from studying when a conversation from the other side of the shelf steals your focus. 

“Girl, come on. Are you really surprised at this point? Have you seen him?.” A female voice says. 

“Right, I hooked up with him once and I swear I couldn’t walk normally for days.” Another voice says. 

The typical drama flooding around wasn’t new, especially not in the library. People seem to think it's the perfect place to sit in silence and gossip, clearly not aware that everyone else hears the conversation as well. You weren’t in the mood to hear someone talk like this about someone else, and you had been studying for a few hours already. Deciding this is your cue to leave, you start to pack your things while the gossiping continues on the other side. 

“Am I right? Who would’ve thought that nice personality held back a demon in Seonghwa.“

You immediately freeze when you hear Seonghwa’s name in the conversation. Were they talking about him?

“For real! Without a doubt the best guy I've been with. I mean have you seen his hands?” 

Your thoughts immediately go to the thought of Seonghwa’s hands, how his hand covered yours when holding the bag of peas on his lip. How big they were, slender fingers making everything he does look so elegant.

Feeling a weird sensation in your stomach from this information, you decide to speed up and get out of the library before you hear another word. 

The heat in your cheeks turns into a light shade of pink as you step outside, deciding to make your way home. In need of fresh air, you let your legs guide you toward your apartment complex.

Overhearing those girls’ conversation about Seonghwa left you with thoughts you didn’t know existed in your mind. Seonghwa had been nothing but nice to you since the party, and of course, you agreed that he was beyond handsome. But after hearing what they had to say about him, only enhanced the number of thoughts about him.

I hooked up with him once and I swear I couldn’t walk normally for days.

Shaking the thoughts out of your head, you decide to walk the rest of the way home, in desperate need of fresh air.

***

You didn’t think a week could go this slow. School was as boring as ever, and every day looked the same. Except, the new ‘same’ was that Seongwha and you had small interactions during the week. A smile here and there, a wave when seeing each other, and small talk by the lockers. 

You had a feeling that Seonghwa knew you didn’t want your best friend to ask you about your growing friendship with him, so he only came to talk whenever you were alone. It wasn’t that you were trying to hide the fact that you and Seonghwa were slowly becoming friends, but you knew she would question you if she knew. She would ask questions about every single thing about him, all in hopes that you would help her hook up with him, and you simply weren't interested in that.

Seonghwa was becoming a friend of yours, a friendship you never expected to happen, but you didn’t mind it in the slightest. 

But that doesn't mean your mind hasn’t drifted to the conversation you overheard in the library. 

When talking to Seonghwa, you’ve caught yourself looking awfully much at his hands. Or when he was sitting in class, you’d admire him a little more than you’d like to admit. 

You didn’t think it meant anything, but you definitely didn’t plan on sharing those thoughts with anyone either.

It’s finally Friday, and you’re closing off at your closing shift. The mall closed at eight, but you had to make sure everything was ready for the morning shift, so you walked out around 8:30. Not having anything to do after work, you took your sweet time finishing up. Your fingers tapped your phone screen, trying to find the perfect song in your headphones as you made your way out of the mall and towards the bus stop. The chilly late summer night air hit you as you stepped outside, finally finding a song you’re satisfied with. 

You look up but immediately stop in your tracks. 

On a bench, outside the mall in front of the parking lot, Seonghwa is sitting by himself, fiddling with his fingers. There’s not a single person in sight, making Seonghwa stand out. Your brows shoot together in confusion as you watch him. He’s in his own world and you slowly make your way towards him. 

The sound of your feet against the concrete makes his head shoot up and his gaze direct at you. A smile tugs on his lips, and he lifts his hand to send you a wave.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, stopping a few meters away from him.

“I’m waiting for you to get off work.” He stands up from the bench before taking a few steps towards you.

You notice how the scrape on his lip is practically gone already.

“I thought you were going to the party.”

“I was. Was there for 10 minutes, realized it was boring as hell, drove home, and waited for the mall to close so I could pick you up.” He makes it sound like it was the most normal thing for him to do.

“You really didn’t have to.”

“I know,” Seonghwa sends you a smile and starts walking towards his black car, parked only a few meters away. “Come on, just accept my offer and let me give you a ride home, it’s late and it’s dark,” He opens the door to the passenger seat and looks at you, frozen in your place. “I won’t bite, I promise.”

You eventually get in his car, and he’s quick to get in the driver’s seat. You immediately notice the car is neat, and clean and smells like Seonghwa. He turns on the car and starts driving towards the parking lot exit.

“Have you eaten?” He asks, eyes still on the road.

“I had a snack.”

“A snack? Come on, a snack won’t do it.” He drives onto the main road, in the direction of your apartment.

“I’ll eat when I get home.” You roll your eyes at him teasingly.

“I know a good place, I hope you’re up for trying for the best milkshake in your life.” He makes a u-turn and you’re suddenly headed towards an unknown location. 

“Seonghwa.” You look at him, a hint of seriousness in your voice. It isn’t that you have anything better to do, but you aren’t mentally prepared to hang out with him. You don’t feel like you look your best, and you don’t want to steal his time.

“What?” He flickers his gaze from you to the road. His boba-looking black eyes meet yours for a second before looking straight ahead, and when you quickly notice the glimpse in them, it’s like you can’t say no to him. He looks so full of excitement, that you swallow your words and send him a smile.

“Nothing.”

Seonghwa drove you both to a diner, a little outside of town. You’ve never been here before, but the neon sign and the old-school 60’s aesthetic left an evident impression on you. Seonghwa opens the door for you, and you’re immediately hit with the feeling that you just stepped into the movie 'Grease'. 

You’re met with black and white checkered floor, red booths, and a jukebox in the corner. Seonghwa’s excitement is through the roof as he guides you towards one of the booths further down the diner, with his hand on the small of your back.

You try your best not to pay too much attention to how his touch makes you feel, and quickly focus on something else. You sit down across from each other, the two of you being the only ones there, except the elderly gentleman in the corner, reading a paper. 

You’re reading the menu when a waitress comes over, and you immediately notice the way she looks at Seonghwa.

“Hi, welcome.” Her flirtatious voice speaks. She has bright red lips, a dress that covers just the top of her thigh, and an apron tied around her waist, making her curves more visible. 

“Hi.” Seonghwa smiles, taking his focus from the menu to the waitress.

“What can I get for you?” 

“Can I have the medium cheeseburger menu, please?” Seonghwa asks as he points to the menu. 

“Of course.” She responds as she writes down his order on her notepad. You wait until it’s your turn to order, but as silence surrounds you and you notice how she’s just staring at you, you come to your senses. 

“Uhm.. I’ll just have the small fry menu, thank you.” 

She writes down your order in silence, and you feel awkward, sitting across Seonghwa as this waitress barely notices you.

“Would you like,” The waitress looks Seonghwa up and down. “Anything else?”

A part of you wants to laugh at the scene playing in front of your eyes, watching Seonghwa and this waitress flirt with each other. Seonghwa scans the menu card like he doesn’t know it front to back.

“Do you still have the chocolate milkshake with the drizzle and strawberries on top?” He asks, looking up at the waitress.

“No, we don’t actually..” She shakes her head for a second but takes a short moment to think before speaking up again. “Not officially, at least, but I can make it for you anyway? It’ll be our secret.” She bites her bottom lip and for some reason, you have to fight everything in you not to roll your eyes and scoff. 

“Really? That would be amazing.” Seonghwa responds, handing her your menus.

“Anytime.. Let me know if I can help you with anything else. Can I ask what your name is?”

“I’m Seonghwa.”

“I’ll be right back with your milkshake, Seonghwa.” She sends her last smile before disappearing into the kitchen. Seonghwa looks at you satisfied, not realizing how his conversation looked to everyone but him and the waitress.

“I see why you like coming here.” You say.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” You mumble and look away, out the window. There’s a huge neon sign with the diner’s logo on the parking lot, shining through the windows. The low music from the jukebox is playing 60’s instrumentals, making sure to give the customers the full diner experience. 

“Because she flirted with me?” You look at him to see his smirk. He’s staring intensely at you, slightly enjoying seeing the way you try to avoid his eyes. You respond with a nod and a “mhm.”

“Did I flirt back?” He asks, squinting his eyes at you. There’s a small hint of jealousy in your stomach as you talk about this, him talking with this girl who’s obviously very into him, but you obviously don’t let that side of you out. 

“I don’t know how you are when you flirt.” You shrug. 

“Are you sure?” lifting an eyebrow at you. You want to say yes, but the way he’s looking at you, makes you doubt everything you know. Your silence is enough of an answer for Seonghwa, and he rolls his eyes. “To answer my own question; no, I didn’t flirt with her. I’m surprised you couldn’t tell.” 

“I haven’t known you for long, how should I know?” You almost want to laugh at how ridiculous this conversation seems.

“You don’t have to know me for long to know.” His words shut you up, and you stare at him, sitting confidently on the other side of the booth. The way he’s in some blatantly obvious way flirting with you, somehow makes you doubt everything. It’s like you can’t wrap your head around the fact that he’s so forward with his words. You don’t get to say more before the waitress comes back and places a chocolate milkshake on the table. 

“Here’s your milkshake, Seonghwa. Your food will be ready in 10 minutes, let me know if I can do anything else for you.” She sends him a warm smile again, not once acknowledging your presence. 

“Thank you,” He smiles back at her when she walks away, and immediately leans over the table to lower his voice as he speaks. “I didn’t even know she worked here. I’m usually assisted by my friend Barbara, running on her 68th year. The reason why I like coming here is because of this heavenly milkshake I just ordered for us. They only have it once in a while, but if you’re with me, you can get it all the time.” He leans back in the booth, looking more confident than ever.

“Must be nice having pretty privilege when it comes to milkshakes.” You tease, and he looks up at you, trying to hide his laugh.

“I don’t know what I think about your cocky attitude when I’m taking you out to dinner and picking you up from work.”

“I didn’t ask you to do either of those things.”

“No, you didn’t. And yet you still claim you don’t know how I flirt,” He pushes the milkshake closer to you, as you stare at him, not knowing how to react to his words. “Here, try it. Try it and tell me it’s not the best thing you’ve ever tasted on your tongue.”

You squint your eyes at him, before dragging the chocolate milkshake closer to you. It’s tall, has the perfect color of a chocolate milkshake, has a mix of different drizzles, and has three bright red strawberries decorated on top. You lean forward to take a sip from the straw, and an overwhelming flavor bursts in your mouth.

“Oh, it’s good.” You admit.

“I know, right? All thanks to my pretty privilege.”

You and Seonghwa spend more time at the diner than you thought you would, talking about everything and nothing. During the hours across from each other in the red booth, you ended up realizing that this was the best way you could spend the night.

You were now in the car on the way home, and summer rain had started pouring against the windows. Pools of water decorate the streets, mirroring the light from the street lamps.

“So,” You start, looking at Seonghwa from the passenger seat. “You’re giving parties a new chance tomorrow?” You’re not searching for a specific answer, but after he opened up to you last weekend, you’re curious about him going to the parties.

“I’m not sure. The guys and I are talking about having a small get-together, just the few of us. You should come, bring your friend too.” He says, looking relaxed as he drives you home. 

“I don’t know.. These social things still intimidate me.” You don’t see yourself going to any of these parties for a while. 

“It’s more lowkey than the parties, I swear.” He sends you a smile and hands you his phone from the center console. “Put your number in my phone, I’ll text you the details if you decide to come.” 

You slowly grab his phone from his hand, surprised by how relaxed he seems. It’s already unlocked, and you’re about to make a new contact when his phone suddenly rings. The caller ID is a girl's name, and you freeze, not knowing what to do.

“Oh.. Someone’s calling.” You say, showing Seonghwa the screen.

“Just press ignore.” He answers quickly.

“Are you sure?”

He nods as he keeps his focus on the road, driving through the puddles on the road. You continue where you left off, adding your number, but the girl’s name appears on the screen again as another call goes in. 

The fact that a girl is calling him, shortly throws you off. It’s probably not new for him to have girls hit him up constantly, but it makes you feel awkward.

Seonghwa notices how you freeze with the phone in your hands. The car stops at a red light, and you hand him the phone while it’s still calling. You try not to snoop too much, but you can’t help but watch from the side of your eye, what he does. He ignores the call again, goes to the girl’s contact, and blocks the number, before handing you the phone again. 

“There.” He says.

You finish adding your number to his contacts, saving it under your name, just as another call goes in. This time from Wooyoung, as the screen reads.

“Now Wooyoung is calling.” You show Seonghwa the screen and he makes an annoyed sound.

“You gotta be kidding me..” He gently grabs the phone from your hand, answers the call, and puts it on speaker before placing the phone on the center console. “What?” He asks into the phone.

“Where the fuck are you?” Wooyoung’s voice almost sounds panicked.

“I left.”

“What? Bro, you need to come back. ‘You know who’ keeps asking for you and I’m about to lose my fucking mind.” Wooyoung explains, but Seonghwa’s face doesn’t show a care in the world, as the light turns green.

“Not my problem, I’m not coming back.”

“Why? Where are you?” Wooyoung’s question hangs in the air for a moment before Seonghwa sighs deeply.

“At your mom's, see you tomorrow.”

“WHAT DO YOU-” Wooyoung’s voice is cut short when Seonghwa ends the call. The childish behavior they seem to have makes you hold back a laugh. You haven’t spoken to Wooyoung before, only knowing him as one of the popular guys, but what you’ve gathered about him so far, really sums up a chaotic personality.

“And that’s how you deal with that. Did you put your number in?” Seonghwa asks, glancing at you as he holds out his phone with a smile. It's dark outside, but his teeth still shine so brightly when he’s smiling. His entire face lights up when he smiles, making the darkness brighter.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” 

The drive home is quick from that point on, and Seonghwa offers to follow you to the door but to save him from getting drenched, you convince him not to. You’re quick to run inside to hide yourself from the rain, managing to get inside without getting soaked. 

In your own world, you get ready to sleep. It’s gotten late, and you’re exhausted from school, work, and late dinner with Seonghwa.

You get under your covers, ready to lay with your phone for a while before actually getting some sleep when your lips curl into a smile from a received text.  

Unknown Goodnight, Angel

It takes you no time to figure out who sent the message, and you reply as the butterflies slowly spread throughout your body.

You Goodnight, Hwa

***

You have no idea what you’re doing. You promised yourself a relaxed weekend, without any parties or anything close to it, and you kept that promise for the most part! You had initially texted Seonghwa that you wouldn’t come to the get-together, but thanked him for inviting you.

Partially because telling your friend that Seonghwa invited you, would indicate you and Seonghwa had contact, and you weren’t ready for that conversation with your best friend yet. But you didn’t expect your best friend to hit you up Saturday evening, inviting you to a small get-together at Mingi’s place. 

After she sent you the information, you immediately realized it was the same information Seonghwa had given you. This changed something, the fear of missing out suddenly hit you. Therefore, at the last second, you decided to accept your best friend's offer and join her at Mingi’s, but promising yourself not to drink too much. 

“Come on in!” Mingi says as he opens the door further. When stepping through the front door, you hear music and voices from further into the apartment. Mingi’s apartment is bigger than you thought, as you expected a small dorm, but are instead met with a rather big apartment. The decor is very minimal, the most he’s done is plastering a few posters up here and there. You feel a flip in your stomach at the thought of seeing Seonghwa in a few seconds but you quickly push the thought away when your best friend grabs your arm and drags you into the living room.

You’re met with four guys sitting in the living room, and your eyes immediately notice Seonghwa. He’s leaning back on the couch, a slight tug on his lips from listening to the conversation before him, and in a black hoodie with baggy jeans.

His eyes travel to you, a flash of something apparent in them for a second and slight confusion written on his face. The confusion is quickly replaced by a smile spreading on his lips, probably still a little confused by seeing you since you texted him you weren’t coming. 

You feel his eyes on you as you look around to see the other guys, San sharing the couch with Seonghwa and Wooyoung sitting by Seonghwa’s legs on the floor. Mingi sits down on the floor as well, inviting you and your best friend to get comfortable too.

“Do you guys wanna sit on the couch?” San asks, about to get up, but your best friend quickly speaks up.

“No, that’s fine!” She sits down next to Mingi (shocking, you think), and you join her on the other side of on floor. You knew she and Mingi hooked up last weekend.

And you couldn’t help but hope she would leave her attention on him and forget about Seonghwa for the night.

You try not to make it too obvious how bad your eyes want to go to Seonghwa, but you eventually succumb and look at him, surprised to see him with his gaze already locked on you. 

You haven’t heard him say a word yet, yet you know everything his gaze is saying.

You came anyways? 

You shrug with a smile, and look away, trying not to make the heat in your cheeks too apparent. 

Alcohol is gathered in the middle of the circle, San opens a six-pack of beers before handing a can to Seonghwa, but Wooyoung is quick to snatch it.

“Seonghwa is not drinking tonight, he’s being a bore.” He says, cracking open the beer before taking a sip. He almost spills as Seonghwa kicks him in the back, wiping the beer away from his chin.

“If I wasn’t a bore, you wouldn’t be sipping on those beers. I had to drive to a place 25 minutes away because you forgot to buy some.” Seonghwa shakes his head, slightly annoyed with the younger.

“You’re right, thanks mommy.” Wooyoung sends Seonghwa a loving smile, but Seongwha only responds by rolling his eyes. 

The decision you’ve made not to get too drunk seems like a good idea as the night escalates and more beers are opened. The volume in the group gets louder as more alcohol is consumed and laughs are shared over silly topics. This all eventually ended with the group deciding to play various drinking games, which you silently participated in. 

It was obvious that you were the newest addition to the group, not knowing them all very well. And that really showed when they decided to play ‘who’s most likely to’. An explicit version, at that.

“Who’s most likely to sleep with a teacher?” Mingi asks, looking around at everyone before starting the countdown. “3..2..1..”

There's silence as everyone, besides you, points around, and everyone points at San. The man looks down looking embarrassed, even pointing at himself.

“She was 27 at the time. Only 6 years older than me, it isn’t that big of a deal.” San explains before taking a sip of his beer.

“She was still a teacher.” Wooyoung comments.

“Substitute. The key word is substitute.” San eyes Wooyoung who only starts a small discussion about the situation, leaving you to observe the two. A smile creeps up on your lips at the conversation before you, but you can't help but look at the person directly across from you, meeting Seonghwa’s eyes again. 

Looking at him was like excluding the rest of the world for a moment. His lips curled into a subtle smile, only keeping his focus on you and ignoring the bickering from his two friends. Hoping no one notices the way you look at each other, you look away, taking a sip from your first beer. 

The game eventually moves on, San having to pick the next ‘most likely to’.

“Who’s most likely to be the best fuck?” He asks, a smile creeping up on his lips as he gets ready to count down. “3..2..1..” 

The majority of fingers point at Seonghwa, him sitting relaxed on the couch, only watching the game unfold. There’s a short silence around the group before Wooyoung speaks up.

“There’s a reason why at least 5 girls flirt with him at every party. They all want a piece of that Seongwhanger.” 

“Don’t ever call it that.” Seonghwa snaps, looking at his friend by his legs.

“Am I wrong though?” Wooyoung laughs.

You only watch as the others add to the conversation while you drift into your own thoughts. You’re reminded of the conversation you overheard in the library, those girls talking about their encounters with Seonghwa in the.. bedroom.

Having Seonghwa’s best friends knowing about his abilities when it comes to sex, as well as those random girls, would mean it must be a thing people knew. Somehow, you had just missed that information. 

“I’m intrigued.. Why do you guys think Seonghwa is most likely?” Your best friend asks, looking around at the guys. 

“If you knew the screams I’ve heard from the girls he’s fucked. That alone tells me everything I need to know.” Wooyoung answered.

You suddenly enter a topic you had not prepared yourself for, and that results in you feeling restless. The thought of Seonghwa fucking hard, has your mind playing a dangerous game with you. You don’t know where to look, where to keep your hands, how to breathe. 

Whenever your eyes landed on Seonghwa, all you saw was him. 

Naked. On top of you.

“I spoke to a girl he fucked once. She told me she saw heaven and hell at the same time.” San adds.

“Guys..” Seonghwa tries to stop the conversation, or at least make it less explicit, but the others don't seem to follow along. 

“Come on, Hwa. It isn’t something to be embarrassed about, own it!” Wooyoung hits Seonghwa’s leg in an accepting manner.

“I am, but in respect for the girls... Let’s not.”

Wooyoung clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head. “You know how they brag about it, they want to be talked about after. They all wanna be a part of the Seongweenie club”

“Stop!” Seonghwa’s eyes grow big at Wooyoung’s constant name-calling.

Your best friend laughs next to you, enjoying this conversation more than anyone else. You try to look at Seonghwa again, but when his eyes meet yours, you instantly look away. It’s like you can’t look at him and not have your thoughts stray to less innocent territories. You finish your beer, feeling slightly grateful for the way it leaves you feeling.

“You guys are embarrassing, why do you know these things about each other?” Your best friend asks as her laugh dies down, curious about this conversation. San looks at her, scooting away from Seonghwa on the couch so he can speak at a lower volume like Seonghwa wouldn’t hear him.

“Because at this point, it’s common knowledge. I don’t want it to sound weird, but I’ve heard a lot from the girls he's been with. The things this man does,” San points over his shoulder at Seonghwa. “Don’t let his nice persona fool you guys.”

“The thing is, Seonghwa is just way too humble about it.” Mingi adds, shrugging. 

Your eyes quickly travel to Seonghwa, looking defeated, before Wooyoung steals your focus as he stands up. 

“I’m just surprised you’re not bragging about it more. If I were you, I would be telling everyone about my Shlonghwa.” 

Wooyoung barely finishes his sentence before Seonghwa runs after Wooyoung out of the living room and they disappear in the hallway. All you hear is Wooyoung's muffled laugh, as you hear him run, and you finally take a moment to breathe, now that Seonghwa isn’t in your eyesight. 

Another topic is suddenly going on amongst the rest of you, but you can’t seem to move on from the information you just got. 

She told me she saw heaven and hell at the same time.

Your brain keeps going over and over the words from Seonghwa’s friends. You didn’t expect to ever hear these things about him, and it honestly shocks you a bit. You knew he was popular amongst the girls, but you thought it came from how nice he was (as well as incredibly handsome). But now, knowing many of them want to sleep with him because, like Wooyoung said, “they brag about it, they want to be talked about after”, only adds to your thoughts. 

The conversation you shared with Seonghwa after the last party, suddenly made even more sense to you. Even Seonghwa’s friends knew how many girls were wondering how it would be to sleep with him. 

And so you feel an incredible guilt for wondering the same.

How his hands would run down your body, lips tracing kisses all over you as he has his way with you.

“I’ll be right back.” Your best friend wakes you from your thoughts before she disappears into the hallway. Wanting to remove the thoughts about Seonghwa from your brain, you try to focus on the conversation between San and Mingi, but it doesn’t help at all. 

Shaking the empty can of beer, you are in desperate need of something to help with your dry mouth. You excuse yourself as you stand up, decide to get some water instead of beer, and make your way to the kitchen. 

You manage to find the kitchen without any help, but your body immediately backtracks when you see who’s in there, and you hide behind the wall before they see you. Your best friend is laughing as she jokingly hits Seonghwa on the chest. His smile grows on his face before continuing whatever conversation they were having. 

Not wanting to snoop or hear your best friend flirt with Seonghwa, you quickly make your way back to the living room. Your hands reach for another beer, and you take a huge sip of it to quench your thirst and with a small mission to forget what you just saw in the kitchen. 

You didn’t like Seonghwa. Of course not, right? He was just becoming a good friend, and your best friend has been crushing on Seonghwa for almost a year. If she managed to finally get him, that would be great! You’d be happy for her. 

On the outside.

But on the inside, you’d be less excited. 

You hate admitting it, but Seonghwa has been running in your mind 24/7 ever since the party. You finally understood why your best friend was into him. Why every girl was into him. You’d be blind if you didn’t see how perfect he was, how kind, thoughtful, and funny he is. And that’s just Seonghwa. That is how he is. And he’s much more than that.

Needing a moment for yourself, you manage to find the bathroom to breathe. This get-together was turning into something you didn’t expect. How can you feel so many emotions all at once? Seonghwa was already living in your mind rent-free, and now that his friends suddenly exposed how his intimate side is, you have no space in your brain left. 

You look at yourself in the mirror, and you’re immediately reminded of San’s words.

The things this man does... don’t let his nice persona fool you guys.

Your mind once again goes to forbidden places. How he looked that night of the party. How his messy hair would be even messier after you would run your fingers through it. How it would fall down in his face while he’s being on top of you. Sweat starting to form on his forehead. His deep voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Skin against skin as he fastens the speed.

Cursing at yourself at the thoughts, you decide being alone isn’t helping. At this point, Seonghwa is tattooed in your mind and there’s nothing you can do about it. 

You open the door and step into the hallway, when you’re suddenly standing in front of the man in your mind.

“Hey, angel.” Seonghwa stops in his tracks, sharing his first words with you for the night. 

“Hi.” You nearly whisper. 

Your focus is turned to Wooyoung, who has to pass the two of you in the hallway, and you notice the way Seonghwa sends him a glare. Wooyoung laughs as he quickly sprints past Seonghwa, afraid that Seonghwa will reach out for him. He disappears into the living room, leaving you and Seonghwa alone in the hallway.

“He’s annoying, you’ll get used to it.” Seonghwa’s eyes meet yours again. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” 

Trying not to focus too much on the thoughts in your brain, involving Seonghwa in a less innocent setting, you do your best to act normal.

“I guess FOMO got the best of me.” You shrug, starting to play with the sleeves of your shirt.

“I’m glad you came,” His eyes curl as he sends you a smile, and your mouth starts to dry again. You shift your gaze away from him, not being able to look him in the eyes for too long. “You want a ride home later?”

Your eyes flicker for a moment, trying to figure out what to say.

“Oh, uhm.. I don’t know, I have to talk to my friend and ask her if we’re sharing a cap.”

“You’re not. She’s staying here.” He responds rather quickly, leaving you slightly confused.

“How do you know?”

“The way Mingi is looking at her... I know.” He can’t seem to hide the smirk on his lips. He seems confident as he rests his hands in the pockets of his loose jeans, but you’re not convinced.

“But maybe she would like to stay with you tonight?” Your words make his brows shoot together. “She’s been talking about you for a long time, you know.” You look away from him again, eyes focused on your fingers playing with the ends of your sleeves.

“Still trying to wingman me with your friend?” You can hear the smirk on his lips.

“She likes you.” Is the only thing you say, leaving a silence between you and Seonghwa. He scoffs shortly, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he smirks.

“I’ll drive you home later.” He says.

“You don’t-”

“Have to, I know. At this point, just accept it.” He sends you a smile before making his way back into the living room. Like a duckling to its mother, you follow behind him, him leading the way. The rest of the group is already back in the circle, and you quietly sit down while Seonghwa takes his seat back on the couch, making sure to whack Wooyoung on the back of the head first. 

The rest of the night, you’re quietly sipping on your second beer, not wanting alcohol to get too involved in the way you’re thinking. The rest of the group decided to continue various games and explicit conversation topics, thankfully leaving Seonghwa’s name out of most of them. 

You notice his gaze on you multiple times, but you immediately avert your eyes, not being able to look into his piercing ones. A part of you couldn’t wait to get home, but the fact that Seonghwa had insisted on driving you home, made your heart pound faster against your chest. The thought of being alone with him seemed dangerous, afraid you’d do something you would regret.

The get-together eventually came to an end, and just like Seonghwa had predicted, your best friend decided to stay at Mingi’s place. 

The door to the driver's seat closed, and Seonghwa put on his seatbelt before turning on the car.

“Ready?” He asks, looking at you.

“Mhm..” You nod, looking at your hands resting in your lap. Seonghwa keeps his gaze on you for a moment, trying his best to read you to the best of his abilities. 

“You’re awfully quiet tonight. Something going on in that pretty head of yours?” His words make your stomach flip, but you push the feeling away as quickly as you can.

“No.. Just tired, I guess.” You try sending him a smile, thankful for the dimmed light surrounding you, making it harder to see his handsome features.

Seonghwa tries to ignore the feeling he gets when he can tell that you are obviously lying to him. He turns on the car and drives off to your apartment complex. The quiet music plays in the background, making the silence between you less noticeable.

Your eyes follow the trees and street lamps as you drive by, intentionally keeping your gaze in the other direction from Seonghwa. A small tapping sound following the music catches your attention, and you look down at the gearshift to see Seonghwa’s fingers around the shift. Their tapping follows the beat of the song on the radio, momentarily hypnotizing you. 

The car stops at a red light, and you find yourself not being able to take your eyes off his hands. You realize how pretty his hands are, even in the dimmed light. He’s wearing a silver ring around one of his long slender fingers, the veins in his hands more evident as he taps along to the song. They curl prettily around the gearshift, having your mind wander to places they shouldn’t.

What you don’t notice is Seonghwa’s focus on you. A smirk creeps up on his lips when he realizes how his fingers have you in a trance, wondering what suddenly made you so focused on his hands. 

As you catch yourself in the trance, you look away from his figers and out the window on your side. 

You’re too deep in your own thoughts to notice Seonghwa lean closer to you and reach out his arm at you. A sudden grip on your chin forces you to look at him, and you see him smirk with the red light from the stoplight decorating his face.

“What?” You ask to the best ability, still with his hand holding your face. He takes a moment to study your face, not saying a single word. A tiny crease forms in the middle of your forehead, waiting for him to say something. His smile only widens a bit, not letting you know what he’s thinking.

“Angel face..” He says softly as the light turns green and he lets go of your face before taking off. 

The rest of the way to your apartment is silent, except for the radio music and Seonghwa’s fingers tapping along. You finally see your apartment complex, and Seonghwa parks his car in the parking lot. Today, he follows you out of the car and towards your building. You’re a few steps ahead, not knowing what to say without accidentally saying something stupid. 

Your mind is playing games with you, but you decide not to let this awkwardness control you anymore. What would be appropriate to talk about after the information you’ve gotten about him today? Do you even need to talk about it? You’re friends, so it wouldn’t be weird to ask him to stay over again, would it?

You take a few steps up to the main entrance, holding onto the railing, when you finally open your mouth.

“Seonghwa?” You turn around on the stairs, looking at him a few steps under you. Seonghwa’s big eyes look up at you, looking innocent and pure.

“What's up?”

You lose all of your bravery and immediately decide to abort the mission. 

“Nothing,” You say, quickly moving on. “Thank you for driving me home. Goodnight.” You turn around again, about to head up the stairs to the entrance to your building when Seonghwa’s voice makes you halt.

“Wait.. Is everything good?” There’s a concern evident in his voice, and you send him a smile as you look down at him.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

He takes a moment to look at you a few steps up on the staircase, before taking a deep breath.

“Are we gonna address the situation or are you just gonna stay silent?” 

His words hit you like the fall from a roller coaster, making your stomach turn.

“Situation?” You ask. 

“How your behavior changed when we reached a certain conversation topic tonight?” 

You can’t read the tone in his voice, and his blank face doesn’t help either. You knew you had been exceptionally silent tonight, but you didn’t think he would notice. Suddenly, nervous that you’ve done something to make him mad, you feel your heart pound faster.

“What topic?” You ask nervously.

“How I fuck.”

You blink a few times, not expecting those words to escape his mouth. Mouth dry, heart pounding, and sweaty hands all have you quickly looking away from him, averting his gaze.

“There it is.. That look in your eye..” Seonghwa studies your face silently, taking two steps closer to you on the stairs. “You wanna know what that look tells me?” His voice drops an octave, and your stomach does another flip. 

He’s killing you.

“Mhm..” You gulp as you nod, too overwhelmed to use actual words, blushing like crazy.

“It tells me you aren’t as innocent as you may seem.” He takes another step up the stairs, now only two steps separating you. “That those big eyes are pretty good at hiding what goes on in your mind, but sometimes it slips out, and they expose your thoughts without you saying a word..” He takes the last step closer to you. Now, he’s the one looking down at you, and you freeze like a prey trapped by the lion. His scent is hugging around you, making you feel dizzy. His eyes study you carefully, knowing he has you figured out. He scoffs confidently. “Tell me.. and be honest with me..” He leans forward, making it impossible to look away from him. “Are you wondering how it would be if I fucked you?”

Nervous, scared to admit the thoughts you’ve had about him the entire night, your eyes flicker away from him. He leans back a bit, a smirk growing on his face as he knows he’s onto something.

“So that’s a yes,” He says, your heart skipping a beat. The fact that he can read you so well, without you having to say a single word, makes you even more tense. You wish he would end this suffering, and either let you go or press his lips against yours, but instead, he does something different. “I’m feeling generous tonight, so instead of letting you wonder any longer, I’ll just tell you what it’s like to be fucked by me,”

You finally find the courage to look into his eyes as he’s trapping you between him and the banister. The thought of what he’s about to tell you makes the heat between your legs unbearable. He takes a deep breath, letting you mentally prepare yourself before he speaks.

“I like to be in control. I like to have them under me or on all fours in front of me. I like wrapping my hand around their hair or around their throat, forcing them to look at me,” He moves his arm around you, and you feel a slight pull in your hair. Your breathing is ragged, trying to control yourself. “I also use my tongue to make them cum. Luckily I love to eat pussy, especially if it’s from a pretty girl. But the best is when their big, pretty eyes look up at me, begging to cum and I’ll get to control when they’re allowed to let go and feel the orgasm take over.” His voice is down to a whisper, and you can’t believe what is happening right now. You have to bite your lip not to scream for him to kiss you. A smile creeps up on his lips like he’s about to mock you. “But you’re an angel, right? A good girl. You wouldn’t let me do those things to you.”

“I would.” You instantly respond, whispering only for him to hear.

“Use your words, angel. What would you like me to do to you?” He lets go of the grip on your hair and instead removes some hair from your face in a caring manner. 

“Everything. Whatever you want.” You know you’re fully giving in to him, but you don’t care.

“Are you sure? I’m not sure you can handle it.” His thumb caresses your cheek.

“Try me,”

This changes something in Seonghwa’s eyes. His hand grabs the back of your head and his lips are on yours in a second. The feeling of his lips on you is like fireworks, and you can’t help but moan at the overwhelming sensation like you've been waiting for this forever. For the first time tonight, you finally feel like you can breathe. 

His tongue slips past your lips, and you surrender in his grasp. Seonghwa seems just as hungry for you and starts kissing along your jaw and down your neck. You instinctively throw your head back, granting him better access. He goes in like a vampire thirsty for blood, kissing your neck, probably leaving marks. He knows what he’s doing, he knows how to make someone feel good. That makes you impatient.

“Upstairs. Come with me upstairs?” You try your best to get your words out, and you feel him smiling against your neck.

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

You waste no time going inside, quickly pressing the doors for the elevator to arrive. You feel Seonghwa’s hand on the small of your back, and you have to fight everything in you not to jump on him immediately.

The elevator comes, Seonghwa guides you inside, and you press the button to your floor. Impatiently, you press the button multiple times, hoping that will make it go faster. 

The doors finally close, and not a split second goes by until Seonghwa has you pressed up against the wall of the elevator. His hands are on your body while kissing you down your neck and along your jaw. You want his lips on yours again, but when he starts sucking on the sweet spot on your neck, you feel your knees weaken. Fingers running through his black hair are everything you thought it would be. He continues moving his lips on your skin, leaving you thirsty for more. The elevator reaches your floor, and you quickly make your way to the apartment, Seonghwa trailing behind you. You find the keys to your apartment but fumble while trying to find the right one. While struggling, you feel Seonghwa stand close behind you, and it’s like the world is working against you.

“Patience, baby.” He grabs your waist and you feel his front against your back. A gasp at the feeling leaves between your lips, and he starts kissing your neck while you desperately try to unlock the door. 

After what feels like years of getting the door unlocked, you drag Seonghwa into your apartment, and just as you close the door, Seonghwa pushes you up against it. He grabs both of your hands and holds them above your head with one of his. 

“Am I terrible for wanting to drive you home, in hopes that this would happen?” He starts kissing your neck again, and you close your eyes at the way his tongue works on your skin.

“No.”

“Tell me, angel..” He moves further down and starts kissing your collarbones. “What was running through your mind tonight? And don’t lie to me.”

“I wondered.. what the others said.”

“What did they say?”

He makes it nearly impossible for you to speak as he continues kissing further down your chest. 

“Not to let your nice personality fool me... That you made someone.. see heaven and hell at the same time.” Your words have him standing up fully, letting go of the hold on your hands above your head and he’s back to look into your eyes.

“Baby.. I’ll drag the angel in you down to hell with me. Can I?” He moved some hair out of your face again, and you’re shocked with his way of changing style. He could be dragging his lips and tongue all over you one second, and making sure you look pretty the next.

“Uh huh..” You nod, and a smirk forms on his lips as he studies the features on your face.

“I’m gonna feel bad for ruining this angel face of yours,” His smirk grows into a smile. ”But you’re gonna look so perfect after.” His index finger runs down the side of your face, and you quickly start to feel yourself go crazy. Seonghwa’s lips hover just above yours, making you desperate.

“Kiss me.” Your words come out like a cry for help, not being able to long for his lips against yours anymore.

It’s like he’s enjoying seeing you fumble. He loves to hear you beg for his touch, his lips, him. 

He looks down at your parted lips and goes in. His soft lips press against yours, and instinctively, your body responds to him. His tongue slips past your lips, exploring your mouth, and you allow every move he makes. Hands cupping your face, yours decide to pull him closer. You need him as close as humanly possible.

Slowly, his hands travel down your body, testing the waters. Of course, he doesn’t want to do something you aren’t comfortable with, despite you verbally already telling him to do anything he wants with you. But little do you know. He has been thinking of this for a week straight, not being able to think of anything else but you under his touch. So trying not to rush this, wanting to enjoy every second, Seonghwa is taking his sweet time. 

The kiss deepens, and you feel his hands travel further downward until they rest on your ass. A light squeeze makes you pull him closer, and not wanting to waste any more time, his hands travel under your thighs to pull you up. You do a small jump before wrapping your legs around his waist, and you take the opportunity to kiss his neck. A small grunt escapes Seonghwa from your lips on his skin, as he makes his way to your bedroom with you wrapped around him. 

“Are you trying to drive me insane, angel?” He opens the door to your bedroom and you’re thrown on the bed a second later. Looking up at him from the mattress, you can’t wait for whatever is about to happen. The way he's looking at you, you know you’re in for something big.

Seonghwa crawls on top of you, leaving kisses all over your body on his way.

“You know how much I’ve been thinking about this?” His lips run over your chest as he unbuttons your shirt. “Last time I was in your apartment, after the party... You were looking at my lips like you were about to kiss me and I had to fight everything in me not to fuck you right then and there on the couch.” 

Your fingers run through his hair, reminded of the first night you spoke to Seonghwa.

“I’m a horrible friend.” You say, reminded by your best friend’s admiration for Seonghwa. You’re letting a moan escape your lips when he kisses your sweet spot, not wanting him to stop. His lips leave your skin and he hovers over you, his hands on each side of your head as he looks down at you. 

“Your best friend is fucking Mingi as we speak. Besides,” His lips softly press against yours in a gentle kiss. “I bet you’ve been thinking about me too, haven’t you, angel?” 

He had been the only thing in your head for a week, of course.

You nod, looking up at him. 

“Gosh, I wanna fuck you,” He smacks his lips against yours as his fingers open the rest of the buttons on your shirt. Shortly after, your bra is exposed, and a smile creeps up on Seonghwa’s lips. “So fucking beautiful.” 

He helps you out of your clothes, and suddenly you're fully exposed in front of him. Your cheeks redden as he looks all over your body, admiring every single curve of your skin. Quickly, he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. His other hand is busy massaging the other, and you feel every part of you starting to become sensitive to his touch. 

Seonghwa slowly makes his way down, kissing you all the way until his head is right above your heat. He starts teasing you, placing light kisses on your thighs, purposely avoiding your pussy.

“Seonghwa, please.” You can’t stand waiting anymore. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this for longer than you could imagine. I’m taking my time, but I do enjoy hearing you beg.”

Before you get to say another word, Seonghwa dives in and directly starts licking you between your folds. He holds your legs open to get the best access, and you feel your eyes roll back in pleasure. His tongue finds your hole and goes slightly in, making your hands grab the sheets.

“You taste so sweet, baby, like fucking dessert.” He says against your pussy, before slowly dragging his tongue up along your slit, enjoying seeing you squirm.

“Please Hwa,” You manage to say when he starts sucking on your clit, swirling his tongue around it, knowing that if he keeps doing exactly this, you’ll be coming in just a few seconds. "Your tongue.. It feels so good."

Seonghwa smirks at your words but seems to notice how close you already are and slows down.

“You couldn't even look me in the eyes earlier... Like after you knew how I fuck, you became afraid of me. Did you, angel?”

“No.”

“Then why did you look away?”

“Because-” Your words are cut short when he fastens the speed of his tongue again. “I got shy.” A loud moan escapes your lips when your legs start to shake and he enters a finger in your hole, curling it upwards so it hits a specific spot.

“I’ll make you a promise... When I’m done with you, you’re gonna be begging me to fuck you from now on. No more hiding or looking away. Okay?” Seonghwa brings his tongue back on you as he starts pumping his finger in and out of you. A muffled moan escapes you as you bite your lip. “I said; okay?”

“Yes!”

“Good girl.” He adds another finger before the speed quickens once again, and you’re sure you’re about to cum at any moment.

“Seonghwa.. I’m-” 

“Not yet, angel,” He doesn’t change the speed he’s going, only making it harder for you to hold back the overwhelming sensation forming in your stomach. “You can hold it back a little more, can’t you?” 

You almost want to cry from the emotions you’re feeling, his tongue going in circles over your clit. The grip on your bed sheets tightens, and just before you’re about to give up and let the orgasm take over, everything stands still. Like you’re on a rollercoaster, seeing the big fall right in front of you, but you’re stuck at the top. You look down to see Seonghwa removing himself from you, and you throw your head back.

Your heart is pounding fast against your chest like you’ve been running a marathon, and you release the air you’ve been holding for so long. 

“You did so well, angel. I thought you were about to go against my words for a second,” He crawls back on top of you, and you see that he’s only in his boxers. You had been too focused on him eating you out, you didn’t see what else was going on around you. “You’re a good slut, aren’t you?” His finger travels down the side of your face in a caring manner. 

Never had someone called you ‘slut’ in this setting, but when it came from Seonghwa, it only made you even more turned on. Yet, he still finds a way to intimidate you with his words, and your eyes flicker away from him. 

“Angel, are you getting shy again?” His finger travels down to your jaw before wrapping his hand around your throat. You’re completely under his spell as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you, do you understand?”

Not being able to wait any longer, you impatiently nod as you’re biting your lip. 

“I can’t hear you, angel.” 

“Yes!” 

Seonghwa lets go of you before taking off his boxers, and your mouth starts to water when you see his cock pressed against his stomach. It’s bigger than you thought it would be, glistening with pre-cum.

“Get on your knees and turn towards the mirror.” He instructs, and your cheeks heat up from what is about to happen. You do as he says, your body turning against the full-body mirror facing your bed. You watch him through the mirror as he gets in bed and you feel his front against your back. His cock presses up against you, and you can’t wait to have it inside you, stretching you out.

You meet his eyes in the mirror and he sends you a smile as his hands travel on your body. “So fucking beautiful.” His lips leave kisses on your shoulder while he wraps his arm around you and runs a finger in between your folds. You respond with a muffled moan from how sensitive you are, and he slowly raises his finger to your mouth. You notice how glistening it is from how wet you are, and before you know it, Seonghwa has his fingers in your mouth.

The taste of yourself spreads on your tongue, only adding to your list of things you’ve never tried before, but are happy to do with Seonghwa.

“Have you been this wet since you heard how I fuck? You probably undressed me with your eyes while the others were around, wondering how I look as I fuck you stupid.” He removed his fingers from your mouth. “But no need to wait any longer, angel. You really think you can take it?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

A second later, Seonghwa enters you and you almost fall forward if he hadn’t held onto you. His arm wraps around your waist, steadying you while you get used to the feeling of him inside you. Your hips are touching, skin against skin when he slowly starts to pull out before entering fully again. 

The feeling is overwhelming, and your head rolls back to rest on his shoulder. 

“Holy fuck, angel,” His speed slowly increases, and both of his hands go to grab your waist, holding your sturdy. "You make me want to keep you all to myself. So perfect around my cock, don't you think?" 

The sound of him fucking you quickly becomes the only thing in your mind, as you close your eyes to hold yourself from screaming.

He fastens the speed even more, and you let out a loud moan. One of his hands goes to your neck, and he slowly wraps his slender fingers around your throat to keep you in place.

“Open your eyes,” He demands and you do as he says, feeling his hips slam against yours. As soon as you open your eyes, you see yourself getting fucked by Seonghwa through the mirror. His eyes are so full of passion and lust as they keep their focus on you, while his dick pounds deep inside of you. You've never seen yourself while getting fucked, but you love the view of you and Seonghwa. “Do you see how beautiful you look with my cock inside you? So fucking obedient and good, you were made for me, angel.” 

Seonghwa lets go of your neck and a hard thrust has you falling forward, not being able to hold yourself up any longer. He continues to thrust deep inside you, grabbing the flesh on your hips so hard, it probably (hopefully) leaves marks tomorrow. 

You feel a tug in your hair, and you look up to see Seonghwa have his hand wrapped around your hair, forcing you to look into the mirror, and the sight turns you on to the fullest. Seonghwa is so deep inside of you, and you can’t help but look at how absolutely gorgeous he looks. His black, wavy hair is damp and a mess, sweat glistening on his chest, and a crease on his forehead from the passion he puts into fucking you. He grunts your name as he meets your eyes in the mirror, and you feel the thrusts deepen.

Your arms lose their strength and you fall down, face down, and ass up. This allows Seonghwa to lean over you, and you almost feel him deeper inside of you. He lets go of your hair and you feel his weight on you as he places kisses on your shoulders and your back as his cock works in and out of you. You moan his name into the bed, not being able to think of anything else but him railing into you.

“You take my cock so fucking good, just like the good little slut you are.”

His dominant side is so evident, that you’re wondering how he’s capable of hiding it normally. You didn’t ever think he’d be so controlling, but it turns you on seeing this nice guy turn into an absolute animal in bed. 

You suddenly understand what the girl from the library meant. With the way he's fucking you into the mattress, you're not sure how you're gonna be able to walk tomorrow.

You feel yourself clench around him, quickly feeling your orgasm approach once again. A moan escapes Seonghwa at the feeling and he knows you’re about to have your orgasm take over.

“I wanna see you while you come on my cock.” Seonghwa pulls out of you and rolls you over so you’re lying on your back. Your legs wrap around his waist as he enters you again, another moan about to leave your lips when he leans down to press his lips against yours. 

This takes you slightly by surprise, but in desperate need of his lips against yours, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. His hips start to move again, quickly picking up the speed to chase both of your orgasms. 

“Fuck, baby.. I feel you clench around my cock. Are you gonna cum?” He says, looking down at you.

“Y-Yes!” 

"I'll let you finish if you beg like a good girl."

He's killing you with his words, but you can't hold back anymore, You've been trying to hold back for so long, that you feel like you're going to pass out.

"Please, please!"

"Please what?" He keeps the speed, not going faster, not going slower.

"Please let me cum, Hwa!" You’re begging him to let you cum, not being able to hold back much longer. 

As if something changed in him, he quickly puts your legs on his shoulders, almost folding you in half. You feel him even deeper, hitting the perfect spot in your cunt.

“You’re going to cum on my cock, alright? You begged so obediently after all.” He smirks down at you as the pace of his thrust quickens, hitting the perfect spot every time. “Be a good girl and cum on my cock.” 

Shortly after, you feel the buildup in your entire lower region spread like wildfire throughout your entire body. Your toes curl, fingers grab the bed and your head rolls back in pleasure. An uninhibited release of control runs through your entire body and you clench around his cock. You've never felt this intensity of an orgasm before. Moaning Seonghwa’s name along with your orgasm taking over you, has him quickly feeling his orgasm approach as well. You look up at him, pleasure written all over your face.

“Holy shit, baby, I’m gonna cum if you keep looking at me like that.” 

“Cum inside me, please.” 

A smirk creeps up on Seonghwa’s lips. “Look at you, not so shy anymore, are we?” 

He fucks you hard and fast, looking down at you as you still feel your own orgasm. You moan once again, clenching around his cock and that’s enough to send Seonghwa over the edge. One last deep thrust has him emptying himself inside you, and you feel the warmth from his cum. His movements stop as he takes his time to feel his orgasm, closing his eyes in pleasure.

The sight in front of you leaves you addicted to him, so you start wiggling under him, trying to milk more cum out of him. His eyes open and he looks down at his cock inside of you, grinning as he lets you wiggle under him. He then slowly pulls out of you, enjoying the sight of his cum leaking out of you. He helps your legs down from his shoulders before slowly leaning forward to kiss you gently on your lips. 

His hand cups your cheek in a loving manner as the kiss deepens, but the kiss seems different from the others. This one is so full of care, protection, and softness. 

He pulls back, looking down at you in a way that wouldn’t make you believe he just railed you into next week.

“So… Was I too hard on you?” He asks with genuine nervousness in his voice. 

“No, you were perfect.” You smile, and he quickly looks relieved before he pecks your lips and gets comfortable in your bed.

“Come here, angel.” He opens his arms for you to lie down, and you immediately throw yourself into his arms. "Is it okay if I stay the night?" He asks softly as you wrap your arms around his stomach and he holds you close, resting his head on yours. 

"Honestly speaking, I think I'd be pretty pissed if you just left." You smile, getting comfortable in his arms. 

"I wouldn't dream of it." He kisses the top of your head, and you close your eyes, deciding to enjoy this moment with Seonghwa. “Goodnight, angel.”

You’re already half asleep, listening to the beating of his heart, wishing you could do this every night. 

(I’ve been thinking about writing a part 2 of this fic, let me know if that’s something you would like!)

#ateez fic #ateez scenarios #ateez #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez seonghwa #ateez san #ateez wooyoung #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #kpop fic #smut #female reader

[a-jynx]

care to stay? (astarion x reader)

i'll let you guess, it's kinda angsty!

warnings; a lot of blood talk, injuries, hurt/comfort, a bit of angst to keep it spicy, and maybe some ooc astarion! enjoy!

Sharp whines pierced your skull, licking at the contents inside as your eyes twitched open. Squinting at the ache in your thundering bones, you slowly rolled onto your back, sitting up onto your elbow with a groan.

What in the Hells happened...? Pushing up with your shaking limbs, you staggered, falling into a cracked and crumbling wall. Squeezing your teeth that caused a dull ache behind your jaw. Glancing around, you watched as the flames flickered and danced among the rubble. The crumbling surface around you reeked of smoke powder and copper, along with the putrid stench of smoked flesh. Swallowing thickly at the dirt that coated your throat, you gripped your side while stumbling through the scattered bodies. Flashes rippled through your groaning and thrumming mind.

Your party. Your brain scattered, thinking of everyone within the walls. Shadowheart, Gale, Karlach... Astarion.

Goblins had ambushed you. Shadowheart and Astarion were busy trying to keep them off of you and Gale, whilst Karlach had gone into her fit of rage.

The smoke powder barrel. You remember shouting as the Goblins fire arrow whizzed past your lot, your eyes wide as you all ran towards the exit as the explosion boomed.

Groaning, you dragged your feet through the clutter, your boots catching on jagged stones and the thick, blackened goop of blood stuck to your boots like sap. Swaying towards another door, it's once oak colored darkened from the blast, a handprint of blood smeared across the handle. Wetting your lips, you drew your dagger and shouldered through, only to sigh as you spotted Karlach helping Shadowheart with Gale's wounds.

"My Gods," Karlach laid Gale back against the bed, quickly moving towards you as you stumbled into her hold, not caring about the sizzling as she moved you towards the other bed. "Solider, are you alright? You took the blunt of the blow, if I'm being honest, I'm shocked yet thrilled to see you alive."

You winced away from the burning sensation as your back met the soft, yet dirt-covered mattress. "Thank you, Karlach," your voice rasped, soot still coating it and resting among the blood in your teeth. "Where's Astar-"

"He went to find-"

You jumped as the door slammed open. "I can't find them anywhere! There's more goblin guts and d" his voice staled when his eyes landed on your shaking figure, Karlach's hand still hovering over. "By the Hells! Watch where you're aiming those torches," he hissed, moving to the other side of the bed, his arms over his chest as Karlach rolled her eyes.

"They're fine, Astarion, they're our fearless leader, remember?" Her comment held bite as you winced, searing pain rippled through your melting mind. Astarion's lips moved to speak, his eyes glanced towards you as he gently gasped. Blood leaked from your ears, decorating the mattress and your hair below. Eyes clenched shut as you gritted your teeth, more pain shooting through as if your jaw would splinter.

"Heal them now, dammit!" Astarion shouted as Shadowheart finished healing over Gale, who slowly sat up in bed, groaning and clenching his shoulder. The cleric moved quickly, her hands already glowing a crisp, bright blue before laying them on your temples. More searing caressed your aching skull, yet this time it felt calming. Like that of an animal licking at its wounds. Soothing. Your body shook, feeling the bond shake and mend within your soup-like mind. The sharp whines became whimpers of your own voice. A gasp ripped through your burning throat as the crackle of your rib mended itself back into place.

"Is it working? Will they be alright?" Karlach stood closer to Shadowheart as she sighed, her fingers began to shake. She was growing weak...

"I'm not sure how much more I have in me-"

"You'll continue to heal them until Avernus freezes over if it'll help them," Astarion snipped, one of his hands had moved amongst the blood and dirt, caressing your fingers in a way of saying 'I'm here'. Your chest clenched as a blood-curdling scream wretched through your throat, rattling your still bubbling mind. Shadowheart grimaced, yanking her hands back with a shout, her hands stung with a rose-like red blistering her palms. Karlach gently caressed Shadowhearts' armored shoulder and moved towards Gales' bed, who stood in shock. Astarion had moved to sit on the bed with you, his arms holding onto your shoulders as you shook and cried out.

Her healing had worked, but its' effects worked through each injury like a professional seamstress. Weaving through your veins, smothering in and over your bones' marrow, and licking at your popped eardrums and rattled brain damage from within. You withered in Astarion's grasp, shaking as tears streaked down your dirty cheeks. "I- I tried to save us," your voice shook. Astarion frowned, his thumb brushed against your skin. "Just rest, darling.." His voice was a gentle whisper, his cool skin pressed against your sweat-covered skin. Sighing against his chest, your eyes fluttered close. The soot and dirt caused a soft grimace, yet there was a comforting scent hidden amongst it.

*******

You blinked awake, wincing as you slowly sat up from the bedroll beneath you. "What the Hells," you winced more at the sound of your gravel-like voice. Humming, you took in your surroundings. Soft pillows and carpets surrounded you, a gentle candlelight flittered within the bright red tent. Goosebumps travelled up your skin as you glanced down, noticing your tunic missing and dull-white wrappings secured around your ribs. Crimson blossomed across the wrappings causing you to frown.

Jumping as the tent flaps opened, revealing Astarion with a bowl and prime white wraps resting across his forearm. His movements paused, your eyes met as he sat the bowl down and moved towards you, grabbing your flushed cheeks and slamming your lips together. You gently moaned into the kiss, flinching at pain that shot through your side. "Thank the Gods you're awake," he mumbled against your lips, resting his forehead against your own. "I thought you were gone..." His voice lower, barely a whisper.

With a smile, you rested your jaw against his rough palms, relishing in the callouses he's gained over your time together. "And leave you all alone with Gale? I couldn't." You couldn't fight back the grin as he rolled his eyes, leaning back on his calves and helping you lay back against the cot. "Because you know he'd be insufferable for me to endure alone," he smiled gently, brushing your hair from your eyes. Sighing, you leaned further into the bedroll, Astarion reached back and grabbed the bowl, dipping the piece of cloth into the cool water and dabbing it against your sweltering forehead.

"How're the others?"

"They're fine, we need to worry about getting you back to proper health, my dear," he hummed, dropping the rag back into the bowl. His fingertips dragged gently over your ribs, watching as your body jumped from the soft touches. Your brows furrowed, gently grabbing his flittering touches. "Star... Please,"

"They're alright, my love, I promise.." He sighed, gently undoing the wraps and frowning at the snarled wound. The blast had cut through your flesh like butter. Soot and dirt had embedded itself into your wound and clung to your hanging flesh, it had caused him to cringe inward at the sight of your gnarled flesh. He worked quickly, dabbing the wet cloth against the charred skin, sighing as you flinched away. Wrapping the new bandages, he sat back while wringing out the blackened and bloodied rag. "And how're you...?"

The water dripping ceased as his lips pressed into a tight line, the rag dropped next to your arm as you pushed up onto your elbows. "Star..?" You frowned, rolling onto your non-injured side as he turned towards you, his hand cupped your jaw as you reached up, catching his with a sigh. Tears brimmed his ruby colored eyes. "I thought we lost you when you fainted. There was just... So much blood. Your blood mixed with that dirt and soot, and I couldn't-" His voice caught, choking in his throat as he shook his head. "The mere scent of your blood mixed with such retched things; it made my stomach churn. Caused the bile to claw up my throat."

You stared at Astarion - you both had found safety in one another. Trust had built quickly with how many battles you both had gotten into together, the stories shared amongst with goblets of wine, confiding in one another when everything seemed hopeless. And of course, with your shared comfort came... Feelings.

Astarion hated it.

He wasn't supposed to fall for you, it was the simplest plan for him to follow, yet here he was. On the verge of crying while he coddled you close, his fingertips ghosting over your new bandages. Gently wrapping your arms around him, you tugged him down to the bedroll, racking your fingers through his thick, white curls. You shared a comfortable silence as he wrapped his arms around your chest, as carefully as he could, his hands still trembling. You fitted yourself against his chest, sighing while twisting a wild curl around your finger.

"You can touch me, my Star, I'm not made of glass-"

"No, but you need your rest... I should go-"

"Please... I don't want to be alone," you murmured into his shirt, tightening your arms around his waist as he moved to leave. Blinking, his hands hovered over your shivering skin. His lip slightly trembled before he swallowed thickly. "Ask me to stay," his voice shook as you squeezed him close, feeling your own tears well up. He believed he would hurt you more than help you. "Ask me to stay, and I will." Leaning up onto his chest, you leaned up and pressed a tight kiss to his lips.

Your mouths moved together. Teeth and tongue clanking and grinding against each other. Astarion's hands settled on your hips, soft circles tugged at your loose pants, his nails scrapping by the edge of your bandages. A gentle shudder ran through your bones as you maneuvered yourself on top of his lap, gritting your teeth to keep the pained moan buried in your throat. Pressing soft kisses to the corner of your mouth, his lips trailed down your throat to the scarred bite mark. Your body moved gently against his lap, rolling circles into his hips before he rolled you off of him, chest heaving.

"Astarion, wait,"

"We're... Resting." His voice slightly wavered, his nails gently digging into your shoulders before he moved to lay beside you. Tugging your body closer, smothering his nose into your hair, deeply inhaling as you wrapped your arms around his chest.

"When you're not constantly bleeding," his voice muffled as you rolled your eyes. His fingers gently pinched at your thigh. "Then, we'll have all the fun you deserve, my darling."

*****

You awoke to quiet murmuring - distant, gentle - as if not wanting to break the silence the moon had brought on. Lighting your pinkie, you moved to light the candle beside your bedroll, only to jump when a pair of arms tightened around your waist.

Astarion's body quivered against your own, his arms tightened. You cringed at the pain shooting through your body, but gritting your teeth, you turned over as much as his grip would allow. Grasping his shoulder, you gently shook the somewhat whimpering elf.

"Astarion, honey, wake up." You murmured into the air, huffing as he released your waist, one arm slipping from around you as it grasped at his tunic, tugging on the slightly tattered tunic. "My star, please," his fangs dipped into his bottom lip, blood dribbled from the nibbled skin. "Astarion, wake the hells up!" You shook him more, ignoring the searing pain as his claw-like nails dug into your skin. His eyes snapped open; a gasp choked through him as tears leaked down his cheeks.

Elvish ripped through his lips before he could even comprehend the words his tongue spilt. Your eyes widened, quickly setting up on your knees, both hands grasping his sticky cheeks. "Astarion, my love, breathe, please." Grasping one of his shaking hands, you placed his palm against your heaving chest, your heart beating heavily. His eyes caught yours, more tears leaked past your hands as you rubbed your thumb against his cheeks. "Breathe, my Moon, follow my rhythm."

His hands trembled against your skin, slowly his eyes blinked as he seemed to finally focus on your eyes. Swallowing thickly, he licked his lips and slowly reached up, locking his hands through your locks. Astarion tugged you into his body, his hands shook as he held you close. His breathing shook as he tightened his grip, making you whimper in his hold.

"Astarion, are you alright... Do you need a minute?" Your voice was low, attempting to keep the peace within your shared tent. You held each other close, gentle kisses caressed his skin as he leaned further into you. "Ask me to stay, and I will." You murmured into his hair, cradling him further into your body. You wanted to shield him away from everything. The fear and anger that tries to eat away at him. He looked up, slowly leaning back, but keeping his hold on you. Astarion licked his lips slowly, a shaking sigh passed through him as he moved to hold your cheeks.

"Care to stay?"

#astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 x reader #astarion x you #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #reader insert #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate #astarion ancunin #baulders gate 3

[sil-te-plait-tue-moi]

The idler wheel is wiser than the driver of the screw.

Quick summary: After one too many drinks, you find yourself unable to think of anything but a certain smart-mouth detective who is in desperate need of a release.

Word count: 11K (I'm sorry)

Warnings: This is basically just SMUTT with a lil feelings (if you squint) sprinkled in there; kind of angsty at points (mentions of canon-typical death and violence (hellooo they're homicide detectives); gets a bit existential at points, watch out; pretentious.

A/N: YAY! I had this obsession with True Detective S1 all throughout October (watched it at my nan's house lmao), so enjoy the lovechild of that. This is just for fun, so, please, nobody be angry at me if they don't agree with Rust's characterisation, or any of the weird philosophical chat, lalallalal, OKAY ENJOY!!

***

The night air is sluggish and humid with the remnants of a warm summer’s rain, pressing down thickly, close, clogging, simmering just below the surface.

A few times, I’ve interviewed people who live in these sorts of places: motel-types, the “in-between”, where folks stay when they’ve either got no money, no choice or nobody. Other residents include passers-by who’re looking to save money on accommodation, skipping on the fancier places. Not that Louisiana really has any “fancier places”. Places without the paint peeling off walls like dead skin, I guess. A bed and breakfast in the nicer suburbia, with a view overlooking a subpar daydream of a ghost town centre. 

I’ve leaned up against the crooked, metal railing, felt the influence of my weight almost sending it and myself crashing down onto the faded parking lot beneath. I’ve leaned up there—after knocking—and waited, waited for a grey face to peer through a crack in the cracked door. I’ve smiled and remarked about how the beat-up, brass numbers up there are hanging by a thread. Sometimes, people are real stingy – they slink out and close the door behind them, or they remain in that little slit, just an eye visible, or they plain shut it in my face. Most let me in right away, maybe a little intimidated by the shiny badge clipped up in my jacket – I’ve sat across from ‘em, felt that mud in the room’s air seep into my pores, inviting me under its still swamp. 

Seems like the sort of place for him.

Too many a fuckin’ time, Marty’s come grumbling and muttering into the office kitchen, rolling his eyes, scoffing, huffing, the whole lot. And when I ask him why the strop?—“Ancient fuckin’ philosopher fuckin’ Rust Cohle on it again. Birthday’s comin’ up: get me earplugs and a generous bit o’ duct tape for my dear partner over there, would you?” 

Or somethin’ along those lines. 

For all his apparent talk about us silly, little “biological puppets”, this seems like Rust’s sort of place. Temporary existence, temporary living. Purgatory?

Whatever.

If you ask me, Rust Cohle’s head is so far up his own ass that it’s no wonder his outlook on life is so dark. 

If I was more sober, maybe I’d be thinking about it—about him—less—but this night out has had me so drunk I was maybe even hallucinating at some point. Rust?—sure, he’s been in the back of my mind for some part of the last few months – I have to see him most days I go to work, don’t I? – but, sometime in the space between my third and fourth shot of straight vodka, he was suddenly at the very front of it. I’d seen a guy who smoked like him: cigarette pinched between his thumb and forefinger, a simple, deep drag. I’d thought it was him, but then I realised his face was shrouded in the smoke that he’d exhaled, and I recalled that Rust never seems to do that. Never seems to exhale. All the tar and shit stays in. 

With a twist of my keys, the engine rumbles off into more-or-less silence. Fuck, it’s a bad idea, yes, just being here. If he likes to keep his distance, well—he’s entitled to that choice. 

I glance over my shoulder, out the window, out at the complex which is all yellow and shining, illuminated by buzzing halogen light bars and, of course, the occasional bug zapper. It’s clean enough. The lines of this parking space were white enough. Apartment 11A, said Marty. Second floor. 

“Are you drunk?” he’d asked – Marty, not Rust.

I’d replied, “No,” pressing closer to the phone box in attempts to remove myself from the swarm and bustle of the ladies’ bathroom. And it was an honest reply. Sort of. Despite his scepticism, by that time, I’d long stopped drinking, and all that remained from it was a sort of numb tingle in my fingertips—as far as I was concerned. 

I don’t think I’d be in this parking lot, stepping out of my car, if I wasn’t still a little bit gone. 

Marty’s sigh had crackled through the receiver. “Don’t bring any o’ tha’ party-this-party-that attitude to ‘im, alright? He’ll hate it.” I’d told him okay, my stomach spiking up with excitement. “Fact is, I don’t think you should go at all. ‘f you do, should be a work matter. This a work matter, detective?”

I’d lied, said yes, perhaps with a slur to my voice. 

He clicked his tongue. “Okay, buck, whatever you say.” Then, he’d hung up. 

There was something disapproving in the manner of the conversation. I got the feeling that he was talking to me in the same voice he used to lecture his daughters. The only reason I’d called him was to get something from him, sure, so that I could basically get something from Rust, his partner. I could see how that sort of thing might’ve upset someone. Not that Marty Hart should have any right to judge, not when he’s coming into work in the same clothes as the day before, stinking of sweat and God knows what. The unsaid agreement of everyone in the office is to turn a blind eye. I’ve met his wife. Someone should cut off his damn dick. 

Quiet, now. Hell, who am I to talk? Marty’s fun to chat with, makes a slow day at the office a little brighter. ‘Course, there’s rarely a slow day at the office.

And I’m at the top of the stairs, now. And I knock—one, two, three—on the pilling, forest-green door. Dulled down 11A. Blinds are determinedly shut, slats flat. For a second, I think maybe I’ll be waking him.

Then I remember Rust doesn’t sleep. 

A grey face appears as the door swings just a little ways open, grave and sunken-tired. His expression isn’t so pissed-off as it is just his usual expression. 

“Rusty,” I say to him with a small nod, words scraping out dryly. 

He doesn’t respond right away – ‘stead, he leans his body out partway, eyes absent like he’s searching for some hooligan criminal in the night.

“Marty told you my address?” he asks lowly. It’s more a statement than anything, but I amuse him with a nod anyways. There’s a cigarette flaring up between his fingers. His hand twitches a little like he’s wanting to take a drag, but his eyes are fixed on my shoes, now, like he’s still coming to terms with the fact I’m a foreign body in his domain. 

My toes curl up tight in my shoes – there’s that prick of anticipation again. Ice-cold, you could easily mistake it as dread. 

Rust doesn’t exactly subject me to an imploring look—not really his style—but he bows his head down just slightly – that’s sign enough for me. He wants to know why I’m here, and he no doubt wants to know the quickest way to be rid of me. 

I sigh. I ask him.

My body trembles, and he notices it, records it, stores it away for later reference, for some other time he’ll find that it and me will contribute to his purpose. 

Rust has a face of stone. I get to know it well as I search for a sign there that might let me know what lies beneath. But, of course, a statue is solid through and through. Sharp angles and smooth planes carved hollow. If he’s cold to the touch, I’d like to reach out and be sure. Is he cold where a man ought to be warm? Christ, it makes my pulse jump just to think about it. 

There is no greater purpose or cruel intention underlying my words, as far as I’m concerned. Rust, however, lingers there, with his arm up on the door, barricading the entrance, while he peels back and flits over every layer of possible meaning, his attention fixed absently on my left ear.

He then looks at me—briefly—in the eyes, with a sort of paralysing intensity. Even the tingling in my fingers ceases to be. 

It takes a moment, pregnant with the chorus of cicadas, crickets and other night-creatures, before he steps back neatly to allow me in.

The door clicks softly behind me as I enter into a room that’s bare as bare can be.  

Rust grunts, coming up around me and into the kitchen area. “Want anything?” he mumbles around his cigarette, other hand shoved in his pocket. He’s still half-dressed in his work clothes, his tie strewn on the counter, his blazer slumped over a rickety picnic chair perched up in front of a wall of crime scenes and dead bodies. My eyes linger there—how can they not?

“A beer,” I tell him, still looking at those photographs, then at the stacks upon stacks of books. Philosophy, ethics, religion. Names I’d expect only those with PhDs to know.  

“Don’t think you’ve had ‘nuff to drink already?”  

I shoot him a look. “I think I can handle it, Rust.” He straightens up, raises his brow. I snort, reasoning, “I’ll only have one.”

“One,” he agrees, opening up the fridge and having a rummage around.  

White walls and all of them empty, like some sort of psych ward. Half-sure Rust actually did do some time in that type of care, though, so—shouldn’t make any quips about that. I don’t want him thinking I think he’s crazy – he gets enough of that, I’m sure.   

Back at my place, though, I’ve got posters or drawings or paintings up around every corner. My niece’s drawing of a mermaid sits on my dresser, and photographs of my family are displayed in the hallway. One up by the TV, I painted myself when I was in high school. About two years after I graduated, they asked if I wanted my portfolio back, and I’d obviously said yes. And I love my stuff! Some ‘cause it’s pretty, others because of memories and whatnot. Guess some people don’t have that creative trait, or they lose it. Or maybe they detest the sentiments, those strings that have been, are and will be attached to things. When my cousin broke up with her boyfriend, she cut her hair and burned his clothes. “I just want to forget him,” she’d snarled. I’d sputtered a laugh into my tea.

Rust plants a Corona down on the counter, already cracked open.

There’s no mirror in here either – I can’t check whether I look as desperate as I feel. When I focus back on him, Rust is taking a swig from his own beer, turning to glance at the crucifix pinned above the messy mattress on the floor. Huh. Didn’t peg him as a Christian.

His honey-blond hair doesn’t look cold to the touch, that’s for sure ‘n’ certain. Wonder if he just wakes up like that or what. Once, Marty had been teasing him at work, even cracking a smile out of the old guy. “Ain’t them just the prettiest curls y’ever seen, buck?” he’d remarked, nudging into me, cooing at him. Silently, in my head, even then, I’d agreed: prettiest curls I’d ever seen. Rust hadn’t looked up to chart my reaction, but, if he had, he’d maybe have seen my fidgeting fingers or hitch of breath. Or maybe he felt it, heard it. 

“Sorry to barge in on you like this,” I offer pathetically through a nervous smile. 

He blinks, takes another swig, leaning over the counter that separates us. “No, y’aint.”

Jesus, I have to turn my head and shut my eyes for a second. I don’t particularly believe in God, but I ask Him to please give me the strength to resist my urges and act like a normal damn person for at least a few more minutes. And then I apologise for only praying out of convenience. In the face of temptation. This is why people shouldn’t drink – still, doesn’t stop me from downing a good part of my beer.

I turn to the wall and try to turn myself off a little bit. It’s not hard – Rust still has Dora Lange (rest her soul) pinned up on his wall, naked, blue, stiff. I don’t want to know why, so I don’t ask him. 

His eyes are adamant on the side of my head. Funny how he never seems to look at me at the same time I’m looking at him. Pisses me off a lot of the time – not just him, but in general. A lot of people share this same fear of not being heard, not being listened to and not being cared about. Men in particular, I’ve noticed, have a tendency to raise their voice over others’, to yell or shout or hit things or push ‘n’ shove. Marty’s that way – a lot of men at the precinct are, too. Women who are raised to be the listeners sometimes act out in the same way, frustrated at all the things they have to care about that men don’t, burdened with manners and politeness. I used to hate having to listen, to wait for the man who interrupted me to finish speaking. Rust always lets people finish their point, for better and for worse. Pisses me off in a different type of way. I can feel his judgement seeping out of him, so potent that’s it’s tangible, lapping at my feet.

He doesn’t push and shove – he’s a listener, too. Of course, he has that male privilege where his silence has a gravity, a magnetic pull, where mine is simply as is. At least he pays attention. Sure, on the surface, it might look like he doesn’t care at all, hunched over a case file at his desk, back turned to me and the rest of the lot, but proximity has its power – assigned workspaces put with his personality, and he knows what’s like and unlike me better than my sister. He’s reading into my refusal to talk, to face him – unlike me.

“So, you’ve given this some thought, then,” Rust says matter-of-factly, and my tummy bubbles up.

I snicker nervously, heart racing. God, I’d expected surprise, disbelief, outright refusal, maybe even a little disgust, but, when I manage to turn around and look at his face again, it just seems to me like a calmness. Stoicism found in the affirmation, maybe, of his expectations. It’s like I’m walking right into one of those little theories of his: a proved hypothesis.

I take another sip from my beer, feeling too shy for my liking. “Well, yeah,” I drawl, slumping over the kitchen counter and propping my chin up to look right back at him in a surge of liquid confidence. “I always think ‘fore I do anything that’s anything, Rust.”

Almost immediately, he retreats, standing up straight and resting the small of his back against the lip of the sink behind him. He hums, glances away. “We both know that’s a lie,” he combats, hands tucked into his pockets, chin tilted up, eyes down. A mouthful of beer numbs the sting of rejection. “What you mean is you think you can justify all your decisions. You think you can justify why you knocked on my door and said what you said—” he elaborates quietly, eliciting a snort from me, “—but, at the end o’ the day, all your decisions boil down to what you feel is right, not what is right.”

“‘n' you think you ‘n’ you alone know what’s right?”

Slate-grey eyes flit up and down my face, like I’m a specimen on a slide.

“I think that the girl who’s stumbled up on a fella’s door asking him to fuck her is less inclined to know, without bias, what’s right, yes.”

I swallow thickly, sucking the remaining flavour of beer off of my tongue before going in for another swig.

Christ.

Not a single bat of his eyes. Not a quiver of his mouth, not a twitch to his nose, not a morsel of natural, human hesitation. Does he have to be so crass? I did the courtesy of making it palatable, at least to my own ears, with a euphemism. But when have I ever known Rust Cohle to water anything down? No drink I’ve ever consumed will match his body’s preference of alcohol content. He’s nursing his beer close to his chest, but who knows what poisons lay dormant in these cabinets?

“Rusty,” I say lowly, maybe asking for a break – I close my eyes for just a second, part because I couldn’t bear it if I caught some sort of disapproval on his face, and part because it’s just past two o’clock in the morning.

Late nights have consumed my life recently, what with that sicko rapist connected to a Christian fertility cult. Children of God – “go forth and multiply”. His confession had turned my blood cold. Johansson had offered to sit in the box instead, but I did it anyway. I went home and cried over it, then came into work the next day to talk to some press and then receive my new assignment.

He hums, taking a drag from his cigarette, swallowing the smoke down. Rust knows how it is. To be honest, I’m probably the one who doesn’t know the half of it. One night at the office, he’d casually confessed to his insomnia, like he was just commenting on the state of the weather ‘n’ nothin’ else. So, I guess I won’t pretend to get it.

I gnaw on the inside of my cheek. “Are you into that whole abstinence thing?”

The weak light above flickers gently as he pauses, turns the question over in his mind. Anyone else would’ve surely laughed.

“I believe that man is susceptible to desire, yes—but he can resist it and its consequences should his willpower be stronger than the false promises posed by that temptation.

I snort again, because, now, I really am tipsy, and I can’t hold in my attitude any longer. It’s not that I think he’s lost it or whatever. It’s just—he’s so—objectively—absurd. Well—“objectively”. He’s got points, but those points lose all meaning in the spiralling darkness of overthought and deep contemplation wherein he’ll explain that everything really means nothing—and he’ll be right about that, sure, but also unintentionally prove a point about himself. I’d ask him what it means when, in a world where everything means nothing, a child will give their friend a flower found on the way to school, but I feel like his answer would be too morbid for my liking. Does that make me an unreliable source? The fact that I want to live?

He's absurd. He’s also a little bit awry in the head. Don’t know what he’s lost or what he’s lookin’ for, but it’s not a good look on him. He’s honest, yes – that’s a good trait. But honesty without kindness is cruelty. And he is kind – underneath, he’s kind, and I know that because of how hard he works to weed out evil people in this world, most times at his own risk. That’s kindness, albeit unconventional, whether he realises it or not.

The kindness almost cancels out his arrogance.

“So, what?” I challenge under the guise of a teasing grin. “You can go mouthin’ off for hours on end about how up themselves religious people and all’at are, but you can’t draw the similarities between their philosophy and your philosophy? How does that work, Rust?”

While I was working that Children of God nightmare of a case, he just couldn’t seem to restrain himself – every bullshit word that left him revealed to me his hubris. Now, I’m not angry, and he’s not stupid – we’re not arguing. In fact, he seems intrigued, lean body shifted toward me. He sets his beer down on the counter, crosses his arms over his chest after securing his cigarette between his lips, and lowers his head as if to listen to me better.

I sigh, continue. “D’you know what I think? I think you oversimplify humanity. You’re a great detective—‘nd I guess you know it—and, within the confines of your job, it serves you well, makes you good in the box. But your assumptions are too general. People are who they are, sure, but they also decide to be those people. By their environment and those who surround ‘em, people make the decisions that define ‘em. A lot of the time, their circumstances ain’t fair. People born into badness are trapped by the badness—either physically, or up in their heads—and they have a tough time escapin’ it.”

Rust inhales the smoke again, the only evidence of it happening being the soft whisp that curls away from his nose. I wonder to myself how his lungs are still standing.

“‘s that how you explain that—homicide case you’re workin’ on?” Three-year-old boy died of neglect, his siblings found locked in cabinets, one in a dog cage, by their mother and stepfather. Rust’s eyes flash silver. “Killer had a tough time?”

Asshole.

I narrow my eyes dangerously. “Don’t be mean, Rusty,” I scold, and he blinks in concession. “I think evil exists. I think it’s complicated. I think you summarise things that ought not to be summarised.”

He’s silent for a heartbeat. Then, his hand comes up to pinch away his cigarette, and he waves it in a small flourish, explaining, “When I say “people”, I mean society. Human culture.”

“Last I checked, Rust, you don’t know everybody on the planet. You don’t know their “culture”, or experiences.” That seems to shut him up. My eyes wander to his broad shoulders, trail along the meat of his arms beneath the cheap, polyester shirt that hugs close to the muscle, and they linger there like the quiet that settles between us.

He nods slowly, once. “Our decisions define us?”

I bob my head, unabashedly staring at the elegant column of his throat, his neck, and the stretch of tan skin that is settled beneath the white undershirt revealed by the first one, two, three buttons which have recently been undone.

He’s quieter when he asks me, “Well, how does this decision define you, then?” There’s nothing malicious about the way he says it, or even lustful – just a calm curiosity.

“Ain’t it obvious?” I grin again, laugh a little, blush hotly. “I’m horny!” I hide my face in my shoulder, trying to compose the hiccups of laughter in my stomach. “I’m sorry,” I snicker, wiping my palm over my brow, my eyes. “This probably isn’t very attractive to you.”

“You’re a very pretty girl,” he replies. He mutters my name solemnly, like we’re in a formal meeting or something.

I glance up, check whether he’ll offer me eye contact again, but he doesn’t – he’s staring at the wall, lost.

I scoff. “You’re a very pretty guy, Rust.”

God willing, none of the boys at the precinct will ever find out about this. If Marty lets it slip that I even asked for Rust’s address, then I’ll never hear the end of it. Worse, everyone’ll think I’m dead-gone over him. Guess I don’t really fit the standards expected of women around here: “wife”, or “whore”. Or “dead”. It’s hard enough to be taken seriously going about pretending I’m not interested in sex at all. Once sex comes into the equation, I’ll be reduced to that and nothing else. 

Anxious, I start flicking up under my fingernails. Is Rust already starting to think those things, too? I’m a great detective, but that’s the only capacity in which he’s really known me. 

I wring the neck of my bottle. “I should explain—”

He holds his hand up, stating, “I don’t need you to. Do you feel the need to?” 

Curious, wary, I watch his face, a blank slate. Still waters run deep. My eyes drift down, to where his hands are together in front of him, one relaxed beside him the other curled around his wrist with two fingers resting on the pulse.

“No,” I reply. 

“You thought it over,” he says, eyes tilting up at the ceiling, aloof, bored, maybe. His words are sort of monotone, like he’s reciting a passage from a book that he’s just recently read: “You chose me because you know me. You haven’t been sleeping well. You’re stressed, you’re scared, you’re frustrated.” He blinks. “You’re attracted to me due to some—unfortunate trigger beyond your control in the reptilian part of your brain.” Brief as the flicker of a candle in a still room, he looks over me, brow raised slightly as if daring me to tell him that he’s wrong. He pauses again, takes a short puff. “It makes you think I can take care o’ your needs.”

Look at the state of him: sallow and wilting on the inside. Reducing me down to a sentence or two, and being right about it.

“Well, can you?” I ask weakly, feeling small. He looks over me, blinks blankly. “How do you take care of your needs?” No reply. “You do have needs, don’t you?” I remark, tapping the rim of my bottle to my warm temple. “Programming ‘n’ whatnot.” 

He tilts his head away in dismissal. 

I smile, more to myself than to him. “Beat off in the shower, is it?”

For a second, Rust is still. My eyes grow heavy, admiring the strong profile of his nose. He then nods helplessly, like there’s no point in trying to lie.

I hum, a soft, self-satisfied smirk edging its way onto my face. “Must feel like a sin,” I snicker.  

He squints slightly, like he disagrees with my logic, but does not interrupt to protest. 

“I remember takin’ baths as a teenager and double-checkin’, triple-checkin’ I locked the door,” I confess. “Couldn’t take my time. ‘S that how it is for you, Rust?” I probe, tilting my head to the side, losing his eyes as quickly as I catch them. “You ever let yourself enjoy it? Let yourself want it—?”

“I don’t want it,” he snaps quietly.

“But your programmin’ says you do, right?” I point out, scrambling to hold onto the flaw in his argument. I search his face, my own bright, eager.

He quirks up a miraculous smile, and I myself burst into a wide grin. Still smiling—though, you’d have to admit, it’s such a strange sight, sort of gratifying, almost patronising—he shifts his weight between his feet, scratches at his nose with his pinkie, sniffs, takes a long drag of his dying cigarette. I know he must feel disjointed, though he doesn’t show it: he’s misstepped, and I’ve caught him. And how often does Rust Cohle misstep? I should’ve checked the news for a blue moon tonight. 

Interested, now, is he? Breathing quietly, rolling his jaw – he’s entertaining the competition I have goin’ up in my head. From the looks of the gentle smirk on his face, he’s enjoying it, too. 

“No,” he corrects with a dry husk to his voice. “No, I know what I want, and, when I think those things are necessary or useful, I know how to get them.”

In this type of context, I’d like to see him try. Though, he is an undeniably attractive man. Thick, solid all the way through, like a rich wood. But he’s got these brittle eyes: fraying.

He continues: “Most of the time, though, what we want is born out of dangerous feelings, like rage or lust. Ruminating on the consequences of those potential actions seems to me the more sensible thing to do than to just leave it and find out.” I sniff. “Desire is inescapable for most, including the sexual kind. I feel it—“ he eyes how I wriggle beneath my skin, “—you feel it. But it can be resisted. You’re lettin’ it dictate what you do ‘n’ say. If I do to you what you want me to, have you thought about how it might affect things down the line? Tomorrow, next week, next month—?”

“Yes,” I hiss, a little too emotionally, such that a gleam of satisfaction crosses his grey eyes at the strain and stretch of my voice. Christ. Desperate much?

I take several seconds to think before allowing myself to speak again, all while staring at him straight on and refusing to look away: I’d just die if I let him catch me out. “Well, how can you be sure of the fallout? How do you know the good won’t outweigh the bad? Not “you” specifically, but, also, yeah, “you” specifically. I can think about something morally ambiguous, and I can evaluate the potential consequences, and, just as you are satisfied to observe, I will decide to follow through with this somethin’ and deal with what I gotta deal.”

He sighs. “Because decisions define a person?” 

I tuck my hair tight behind my ears. “Yes.”

And he hums – that beautiful noise resonates in my stomach before sinking down there, low, its weight a comfort. “I agree with you in that respect,” he admits. 

A laugh erupts out of me like the sputter of an engine. Luckily, I’m easy to laughter – it’s like me, as is my genuine grin. “Rust Cohle’s agreein’ with me on somethin’?—Call the police!” 

“We are the police,” he replies smartly, watching me snort and smile and grow flushed in the face. I feel very grateful to that beer – at least my giddiness can be blamed on the effects of alcohol and save me from embarrassment.  

As I simmer down, he looks away, adds, “I agree to an extent. People all think that they’re one-of-a-kind. That they make these—amazing decisions. They speak and do and walk and play and work and fuck and eventually die – all of ‘em.”

“You’re part of the people,” I argue.  

He hums, nodding in acceptance. “Yes.”

“If a person acts due to their instinct, whether it’s succumbing to it or fighting against it, then isn’t man simply his programming?” He lowers his head. “You can be aware of it, and you can be a part of it, too. Who are you to deny yourself the good parts?”  

He fiddles with his cigarette, svelte fingers nimble and acute. I cross my legs, flex my hips; he notices. 

“Because of the consequences,” he replies, a soft whisper.  

I thought that everything meant fuck-all?

For someone who sees no meaning in life, he sure seems to spend a lot of time contemplating it. Here, I thought I’d have hot hands sliding all over me, gripping, spreading, pushing, but instead find myself defence in an unprecedented debate. 

Rust is breathing slower, deeper, almost unable, now, to look me in the eyes, even look at me in general, whereas, before, it had been a choice, whether that choice be conscious or unconscious. His cigarette burns weakly in his fingers, forgotten. The muscle in his jaw flexes, his expression hollow. 

My body buzzes with want, leaves me scrambling for breath like I’ve just run a race. I want. I want, I want, I want. The rough pads of his fingertips, the surest and most confident I’ll have ever known. Sharp tongue, quick and precise. Something about how he smells. All my compliments to pheromones – even in the heavy musk of the bar, I’d smelled him, ashy, warm, alive, and now it’s wreathing all around. Or maybe that’s just me – it’s like when you try to take someone’s pulse with your thumb, and all you’re feeling is your own heartbeat.

I want – my breath trembles with it.

“Rust,” I say softly. He shakes his head a little, looking away still, vulnerable like a wild animal. I sigh, gnawing at my lip. “I really want it. I—I’ve—it’s not just a rash decision,” I explain. “I’ve wanted it for a while, now.”

He shudders – I notice. “Since when?”

I huff out a sheepish laugh, fix my eyes on my restless hands. “You won’t remember it—”

“I will.”

His voice sounds clogged. It sobers me right up. 

“A year back,” I tell him. “You were working at the office—late, in the dark. You called me, and I asked you why, and you said—it was because you were tired and thinkin’.” I glance up to check if he’s maybe looking, but he’s not – he’s turned his head even further away. The soft, gentle curls of his hair tempt me. 

Blindly reaching for the bottle, securing it almost immediately, he finishes the rest of his beer, then sets it back down. 

“I—” he begins, scratching his nose, “—I was—tired.” He pauses to re-thicken his voice. “And—thinking—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, but the both of us know what he said that night: Of you. Thinking of you—of me .  

My stomach flips, leaving me almost nauseous, just like it did when I first heard those words. At first, I thought I’d misheard, that I was so tired my mind was playing tricks on me. Then, I thought he was being cruel, or maybe he was drunk. Those two instances weren’t—aren’t—unlike him, but he never, ever calls to be mean or to be stupid. He’d been quiet and warm through the phone after that, a presence so thick I could’ve sworn he had his arms around me right then. I hadn’t slept well for a time, then, of course, and that made it all the more vivid. His voice had made me shiver all the way through as he told me he had to get back to work. 

When I saw him the next morning, I couldn’t look at him. It was the first time I couldn’t, not wouldn’t. It was also the first time I felt him paying attention to me.  

I shift, ask the question I’d wondered since that call: “Why?”

A pause. 

Then: “You brought me coffee that morning,” he explains softly, speaking to the wall opposite. “I was—looking at the mug on my desk – it was yours. Green one you like to use.” He sniffs. “And…” He teeters on the precipice of that word but does not finish the thought. 

Hmm. That’s something to think about. Rust Cohle thinking about me and not picking apart why and why he shouldn’t be. It had been a mindless enough gesture – it’s not unheard of me to be makin’ coffee for other people in the office, not because I have to but because I like to. For the people I can stand, that is: Johansson always, and him for me; Cathleen;   Marty, when I’m not pissed off at him; and Rust, from time to time. Everybody knows that green mug is mine, though – nobody touches it, not even the boss. Rust reads far too much into things. Most of the time, he’s dead-on. I should’ve known from the moment I placed that coffee on his desk, from the sharpening of his eyes (that did not spare me a glance) that lingered on my lingering hand on his table, that he knew. Figured out something I hadn’t even quite figured out myself. Not until later that night. 

I wonder if he’s ever thought of me when fucking his own hand. I wonder if he thinks about me sometimes, when he can’t sleep, in between horror stories and brutal blows and uncovering the secret truths of the universe. I do, sometimes. 

When I push myself back to my feet, stand up, Rust’s attention springs back, and he watches me, looks at me.

Quietly, I relish in the satisfaction of his stare, crossing on light feet to toss my empty beer bottle in the bin. He steps aside to let me open the cupboard under the sink, his hand curled in a loose fist by his side. I’m not trying to tease him – I grant him the space he so clearly needs, retreating about five paces back, leaning slightly myself against the counter. 

I could say anything right now, no matter how insane, and he’d treat it with total and utter respect. I could reveal to him the reaction my body has to seeing his fingers fiddle like that with his cigarette, and he’d manage to identify the cogs and wheels in what, when you step back, actually turns out to be a hidden machine. Christ, I could probably remove all of my clothes, stand naked in front of him, and he’d look on as one would look on at a piece of evidence at work. Going over the details, once, twice, scribbling it all down in that big, leather ledger. 

Here’s what I think: he needs it. For all his talk about how unoriginal, how predictable mammals are at the end of things, he probably knows that himself. The tension in his jaw, the perpetual tightness of breath. That clipped way of talking he has, wound so tight around himself, like a compressed spring fighting its natural urge to let go.  

I could make him let go. Maybe. I wish he’d let me try. It’s nothing possessive, really: wanting to be the one to unravel his tightly coiled body. Just—the release of seeing him be. No thinking in particular – just being.

He is still, however, uncommonly mute, avoiding my eyes.

I sigh. I ask him tentatively, “You think I ought’a be ashamed o’ myself?” biting down on the fleshy inside of my cheek.  

“No,” he contradicts.

“But—you think I should be findin’ my fun elsewhere, with—some other guy?”  

He sort of pins his hands behind his back, pressing his weight against them there at the edge of the sink. He looks a lot taller from this angle. “I think there’s a lotta fellas stumblin’ over themselves to be with a girl like you.”

“Maybe,” I scoff, “but my reptilian brain don’t want none of ‘em.“ I blush warmly when I glance up and he’s there watching me, though there’s no bashfulness at all on his side of it. 

I expect him to maybe dart his eyes away again, like he does, and then walk me to the door, maybe even to the car if I haven’t offended him too badly, and then call it a night. I could stuff it in; I can compartmentalise. Monday would carry on as it always does, except now without the wondering and the yearning and the delusion. Did he have to be so good-looking? His cheap, wrinkled shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows—like they are now—and those lean forearms braced up on the table, caging in the neatly set-out notes scrawled up in his ledger, like they have mind to escape. And he’s—beautiful. He’s tall. Out-of-place sort of tall, where he has this bend to his neck, sometimes, as to not draw attention to himself. Other times, though, he stands to full height, regal, elegant, authoritative, like when he comes out o’ the box.

He sees into people. He feels it all so deeply.  

And he’s looking at me, seeing into me, deeply. His eyes are brittle like china pieced back together with store-bought glue. The low light casts long shadows down his neck and harsh face. 

“Come here to me, Rust,” I say to him, beckoning him over with a tilt of my head. To my surprise, he does. He does immediately, peeling himself off the counter, eyes drifting somewhere just behind me as if disinterested.

He stubs his cigarette out on an old plate, abandons it there officially, before stepping slowly towards me, feet never dragging, dodging my searching eyes like the plague.

Hmm. Maybe I made a good argument “for” to his “against”. Or maybe he was never “against” to begin with. I’ll watch him carefully tomorrow and see if there was anything I missed.

I reach up and touch his face gently. I used to do this with my husband before he passed, and he’d close his eyes and whisper my name and lean into the touch, tender, loving – my fingers shake slightly with the memory. Rust Cohle does none of that, because he is nothing like my husband. He’s perfectly rigid against my fingertips; his stare flits briefly up right into my soul, his mouth pressed in a hard line. Everything about him is so sharp. The ridge of his cheekbones, the defiant slant of his nose. The lean muscle of his arms and shoulders, slightly sinewy just beneath the skin. 

But when I brush my thumbs up along his eyebrows, easing the sharp line between them, he sighs and closes his eyes, neck bowing down, still as stiff as before, just—different. A small gap, an opening, to that locked room of his upstairs.  

“Rust,” I whisper, nose brushing his. He hums again, lowly, eyes shut. “What do you think of us havin’ sex?”

“Sex,“ he replies softly, “is the illusion of connection constituted by the release of a mess of happy hormones, simply by touching all the right places—and nothin’ more.”

I hum and watch the look on his face grow brittle as our breaths mingle closely. God, he’s so near to me that my head swings in a bout of lightheadedness, heady, vision centring in on him and only him, such that I wouldn’t know if this place was burning down all around, even if the flames started eating us alive.  

“I think you’re full o’ shit, Rusty. Know how I know that?”

He sighs shakily. “How?” It’s like the word is dragged right from the pit of his chest, barely a breath to show for the effort of it.

“I can feel you against my leg.” 

He swallows thickly, but he does not blush, and he does not open his eyes. And, contrary to what he might seem, Rust is not cold like stone. When my fingers grow more confident, when they trace and drag lightly along the line of his cheeks, he is warm there. His pulse, when I find it, exists and is hot and slightly erratic, a fact that leaves my mouth dry and open. I can feel the inflexion of his throat as he swallows again, the shift of the skin and the rhythm of his heartbeat, the gentle influence of his breathing. 

I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. So, I ask him, “Can I kiss you?” ever so gently. 

Softer still, he replies, “Yes,” with that slight Southern whistle of his, barely moving. 

Give me strength. Give me strength. 

That look on his face is filling me with a delicious, vibrating power. As I stretch my neck up to brush a kiss against the corner of his mouth, my eyes are open and watching him, charting him: Rust breathes strongly out of his nose, eyes still determinedly shut, like he’s absent and meditating. He is not tough as stone – parts of him are soft. He barely returns the kiss, but, as far as my brain processes, his lips are soft. Hesitant, maybe. 

Then, these soft lips part, and he is sucking in a hot, shuddering breath, capturing me in a deep kiss, as if to breathe all of me in, a strong hand threading through my hair. It hurts a little at first – a small noise escapes my throat at the slight shoots of pain tugging at the roots – but Rust doesn’t seem to notice. Not at first. No, he’s still breathing me in. His lips are dry, rough, a push and tug, a twist, and he’s kissing like a punch, knocking the breath right out of my lungs. Whatever oxygen I manage to hold onto is sucked out of me promptly. 

I whine, my body going all slack and tired as he smooths the hair out of my face, palms dragging clean back across my cheeks. Those hands cradle the back of my head, making it impossible to keep my eyes open.

Content, I sigh, eyes succumbing to the sensation and falling shut. The last thing I see is his own eyes slipping open to look at my face.

Boy, he’s a good kisser. Must be that lizard brain he has such a distaste for.

My fingers blindly reach and fumble at his belt, hooking into the waist, pulling him flush against me. Rust must forget what he’s doing for a moment, and he pauses where he is, in limbo, eyes far away. When I begin to unthread his belt from its quietly clinking buckle, he goes stiff again, blinks rapidly before perceiving me. 

Holy shit, he’s gorgeous.

His hands hover over my shoulders, not quite committed to the contact. 

He’s seeing me—really seeing me—as I unzip his trousers and spit crudely into my palm and curl around the length of him, warm, tight. I begin to understand the gentle throb and strain he feels, a delightful thrill running rapid all through my insides. He feels deliciously alive. 

But then he turns his head away, neck straining up, breath choked back in his throat. His hands come away, raised, it looks like, as if trying to seem non-confrontational, trying to come away unscathed from a bad situation. 

My stomach burns with desire. “Let yourself like it, Rust,” I mumble against his cheek. “Are you here with me?” 

I can feel him swallow.

“Yes,” he responds. I guide his face to me, stroking his cock confidently once, twice, as encouragement, maybe. Temptation. Whatever you want to call it. My mouth waters, my head goes airy, when I feel his sex twitch in my embrace. 

“Kiss me again, then.” 

And he does. Brows furrowed as if in pain, he does, with the tip of his nose dragging and pressing into my cheek. He kisses me sweetly once, then again, and then pants down hotly into my mouth, hovering there before sliding his tongue deep inside, close, smooth. 

I let myself love it. I let myself let go with every kiss he blesses me with, growing looser and easier and lighter each second. 

The weight of him in my hand inspires a beautiful urge to have him lay down and let me feel every part of his body. Even though his hips stutter, he doesn’t buck up into my fist, doesn’t whine, doesn’t moan, doesn’t curse. Not yet. He just breathes and breathes, and kisses me and kisses me, like it’s all he was set on Earth to do. All he’s allowing himself to do.

Desperate, perhaps, my thighs are pressed against his, feeling unnaturally weak and warm. The throb between my legs coincides with my heart rushing in my ears, a steady ache, impatient. Part of me wants to drag this out as long as possible, because what if this never happens again?—and another part wants to push him inside me already, have him fill me up, fuck me stupid. 

This thought stuffs me up to the brim, like cotton punched down into a pillowcase. I whine shallowly and try to slot his thigh between my own. 

A switch in his brain must flick on. 

It’s like he’s inside my head, like he’s in on my desperation, like he can see and feel every sinful image and thought circulating my alighted brain. He knows it all so well, such that he uses his hips to press us firmly against the counter, spreads my legs with the nudge of his foot between mine, and immediately pushes the rough pads of his fingers right where I need it, through the fabric of my skirt, letting me grind myself against him, hips and all. He circles there generously. I can feel my need dripping from me. He can too, no doubt. 

I sigh, he breathes. I gasp, he breathes. My eyes flutter open and shut, but he looks on, eyes half-lidded but stare immovable. 

He then lifts his knee to place against my cunt. 

“That feels good, don’t it?” he says gently, rocking me over his knee up and down, back and forth, fingers digging into the soft skin of my hips.

My legs widen. When I gasp out weakly, he raises his brow and scans my face, like he had predicted the shaky, wordless nod that I offer to him too late in return. 

“Did you want it like this, girl?” His voice is low, intimate, a hit of something just shy of addictive. “Or did you want somethin’ else, too?” 

He kisses the hollow of my neck. 

His other hand grips at my ass, up my skirt, kneading the flesh there, manipulating it, and his fingers ghost my slit, spreading me around his knee. He fucks up into my hand. I slide my fingers through his hair, which is soft and warm like butter. 

Fuck him. Fuck him and his stupid, pretty curls. I’ve proved my point: regardless of whatever act he may try to put on afterwards, we’ll both know that Rust isn’t as numb as he wants to be, that I made him feel good, that I made him want me, and that he’s hot-blooded and thrumming with life. I can feel how alive he is . I hope he thinks of this again some time, whether by himself or surrounded by people. I hope it drives him a bit mad, remembering this. 

A hot, sharp breath fans out across my cheek, his mouth slotting back over mine, open, daring me. 

I rut against his knee, my fingers teasing the wet head of his cock. I look down between us, at my hand on him, with half a mind to drop onto my knees and make him cum down my throat.

Rust lets out a grunt and swallows hard again.  

Then, he gently grabs my wrist and pulls my hand out of his pants, leaving me dazed and confused. With nimble fingers, he unzips my skirt, pushing it over my hips and dragging his hands over my bare skin. He asks me, “You want the bed?”

I step out of the pool of fabric around my feet, slide my shoes off. “‘s not a bed.” 

I slide my fingers beneath his sweaty, white undershirt, feeling the taut muscle there, feeling the steady breaths that contradict his racing pulse. He holds my eyes, dipping slightly when I dip, tilting when I tilt. “Seems like one to me.”

How unlike him. 

A smile spreads over my face, and his pupils blow wide, dark, imploring. “You wait ‘n’ see what happens when the dust-mites turn up.” 

His eyes on me alone are enough to leave me breathless, chest caving in on itself. Of course, when he kisses me softly, it only makes things worse – his long fingers curl around the base of my throat, watching me watching him, and his other hand slides up under the hem of my blouse, palm spread over my bellybutton. 

I sigh, try not to squirm. 

“You want the bed?” he repeats, heavy, rough. I bite back a needy whine that sits at the back of my mouth. His fingertips press down slightly into my pulse, tightening my breathing. 

I nod. “Yeah.” 

Think of all the times I’ve sulked over his lack of eye contact with me. Was I annoying? Uninteresting? That, obviously, was an immature way of looking at things, definitely not improved by my distinct femininity undergoing some kind of unspoken disapproval by most I met on the job. This is the most present he has ever been in a moment with me around.

As he pulls himself away, steps back, his eyes are darting over my face, less like he’s judging me and more like he’s trying to find and memorise every detail. I do that, sometimes: if I pay well enough attention, it feels like I’m re-living the moment when remembering. 

His hands slot sensibly into his pockets as if his cock isn’t blushing and poking out of his fly right now, belt undone, hanging low about his narrow hips. 

Legs don’t fail me now. I slink out of the glowing kitchen and carry on to where the mattress lies in a dim, blue corner, the strange crucifix watching over, a long shadow cast over the empty wall upon which it hangs. He follows shortly behind me, his warmth radiating out onto my back. 

I pause and look out onto the darkness revealed behind the half-open slats of the floor-to-ceiling blinds that shield the room from the window to the outside world. 

Rust’s presence is intoxicating behind me. He smells like cigarette smoke, still, enticing. I’m trying to quit, but he makes it damn hard. His nose is just shy of my hair, his body so close to enveloping me into him – the prospect of it makes me shiver in delight. I must hallucinate his fingertips along my spine. 

I unbutton my blouse with slow fingers, then slide it off and undo my bra. 

His breathing is level and grounding by my ear as he comes close, sliding his strong, wide hand up my stomach, along my ribs, and cups under my soft breast. He rubs over my nipple in gentle circles before squeezing over me warmly. He then comes around to pinch the creamy tissue gentle between his fingers and thumb, closing his hot mouth over, drawing along his feverish tongue. I sigh, stroke his hair, let him press soft pecks and kisses to the curve of the soft flesh and to my sternum.

My fingers, cupped around the nape of his neck, dip under the collar, cool. This touch, for some reason, causes him to make some sort of breathless, pathetic noise against me. His eyes are half-shut. 

“Anything else philosophical y’wanna get out before we fuck?” I quip smartly (though, not feeling so smart altogether), hand placed innocently on his hip. 

He lifts his head, removes his hands from my body – he looks so tragically beautiful in this light. “You want me inside you?” he asks genuinely, seemingly aloof to the fact I’m naked in front of him, open and wanton and pressing my thighs together, his eyes never drifting from mine.

“What do you want, Rust?” I whisper. 

He seems to really think about it – he’s always thinking. Briefly, his eyes flit down to my mouth. Then, he looks away, scratches at his forehead. 

After a moment longer, he swallows thickly and tips his head down over to the bed, tells me, “Lie down on the mattress,” in a gentle, decisive tone. He’s so soft-spoken – it makes my toes curl. 

I do as told, transfixed by the dark shadow in his eyes, and sink down to sit and then recline back on his coarse mattress, coarse bedsheets, with my weight on my forearms and chin tilted up towards him. He watches me, tucking his thick cock back into his underwear.

Still fully dressed in his work attire, he takes a step forward, looming over me, powerful, assertive. Saliva pools in my mouth—again—as I play with the thought of him sitting heavy on my tongue with his stomach tight, shaking, hands in my hair, fucking down my throat. I would let him. Hell, I’d probably let him do anything he wanted to me at this point. 

Does he know that? Maybe. I don’t know.

As he reaches his hand out too smooth the hair out of my face, I try to figure it out, but I can’t – he seems too wrapped up in his own desire to be thinking anything at the moment. I feel a flicker of satisfaction jump up in the pit of my stomach. Or maybe that’s something else. 

“Lie back, girl,” he tells me. 

My cunt flexes. 

I thump onto my back, breathless. “Take off your shirt, Rust.” 

Without replying, he sinks down to his knees in front of me, my thighs. Instinctively, I prop myself up and watch him unbutton that wrinkled shirt all the way down, shrug it over his broad shoulders. I could fuck myself silly just over the thought of those shoulders, I remark inwardly. He tugs the wifebeater over his head, lean muscles catching the low light, strong, study, solid, and tosses the thing to the side thoughtlessly. My hands reach out to touch him, to feel him and know him. When my fingers press into his skin, glide up his neck and down over his chest, he sighs deeply. He then carefully removes my hands, urging me to sprawl down under him.

“Said lie back, didn’t I?” 

Rust doesn’t say another word before placing his large hands on my knees and easing them apart, lowering himself to press pecks and slow, open-mouthed kisses to my thighs, closer, closer, stroking my sensitive skin gently. I almost flinch at his every touch, like it burns. His face is awful serious, like he’s concentrating. I wriggle in anticipation, eager. 

“Rust,” I whisper purposelessly. He looks up, hums, searches my face for anything the matter. 

I watch on desperately, on the brink of feral distress. A sob clogs my throat as he kisses my fluttering stomach, ducking his head down and curling his forearms, his hands, around my thighs. The dark stamp of his bone-bird tattoo curls over his arm. I realise he is waiting for my attention to return to him, his eyes patient but glazed over with something cardinal. Hungry.

“Can—?”

“Yes.” 

He hums. And then he breathes hotly over my underwear before pressing his nose right there into the damp fabric, inhaling my scent there. I whimper at the pressure he applies with the strong bridge of his nose, at the wetness of his open mouth against me. He breathes heavily into me, groaning slightly beneath it all – I can’t tell past the thrumming of my heart in my ears.  

“Rust,” I whisper again, my shoulder straining with the task of keeping me up and looking down at the sight of his sweet head buried between my glistening thighs.   

“Lie back.”  

He kisses me through my underwear, dutifully kneading the flesh of my hips, my inner thighs.

I thump back against the mattress, helpless, keening into his touch as this grey man roughly tugs my underwear down, down, all the way down, until they’re clean off my body, long gone, and then returns his nose to the cleft of my pussy, unseaming me with his tongue, opening me up, breathing me in. It’s enough to draw a shallow, hoarse cry from me. He doesn’t say anything, and I can’t say anything, biting down on my white knuckles.

Rust licks warm over my clit, sucking gently on the bud of nerves (then not so gently), before sliding down, down through my very centre.

Whining breathily, the twist in my stomach tightens and spasms as he presses my hips and thighs right down against the mattress, slow, strong, giving me time to notice it, realise it, give into it, deny the natural instinct to curl my limbs tight all over his face, his neck, his mouth. 

Holy fuck. Rust Cohle has his face buried between my legs right now. I have Rust Cohle’s tongue pushing deep into my cunt – he sighs softly, a sound with its own powerful gravity a black hole to envelop me in, and grinds his hips against the edge of the mattress for a split second, just once. My mind pulses with the thought of making him cum. I wonder if he feels the same hunger. 

Then, he’s sinking his long, elegant fingers into me, one, then two, and just the knowledge that those fingers belong to him makes my thighs quiver and shake, makes me sigh again. Thick, confident, they curl inside, slow like an experiment, right up to the knuckle. When he taps up against me, when I squeal and crimp up into his hold, he returns himself to mouth dutifully over my clit.  My hand threads itself into his hair, holding him steady – I offer a breathless moan when his grip across my hips loosen, an invitation to begin rolling myself up over his pretty face. He pulls his fingers out of me, wet and hot, and encourages my thighs upon his beautiful shoulders, clinging onto them urgently. He shudders a little, I think, when I lock them firmly around his head and grind myself shamelessly against his mouth, his nose. He moves his jaw, his face, in tandem.

I cum after a while like that, because how can I not? The searing buzz reaches a roiling static.

I go loose, moaning softly, melted down flat, and stroke fuzzy fingers through Rust’s pretty hair as he sucks my clit still, as he inhales again and sighs again, reduced to something primitive and needy.

Thick, my heartbeat throbs and echoes like a drum in my skull, threatening. I feel so full that I could mistake the beat of pleasure for nausea pressing in my throat. It was silly to think that this could all be satisfied just from one time. My eyes closed, Rust’s light touch over my abdomen, up to my throat, is acute and heightened, like a million tiny, individual sparks. His fingers fumble over my jaw, then press lightly over my pulse. 

He retreats just as I’m playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, coming to stand to full height above me, unthreading his belt from his trousers with quiet, precise hands. I press my shaking thighs together, watching him breathe strongly through his nose, trying to remain somewhat respectable in the presence of the darkening look in his eyes that is locked down on my body.

He pauses, wipes some shine from his nose. Before he can continue with whatever, I find myself sitting up on my knees, grabbing his hips hard enough to bruise all pretty and purple, shoving the trousers down to his knees, and palming him through his boxers. 

We don’t have to say anything. He just watches me passively, pushing my hair back again, behind my ears, my shoulders, rolling my earlobe softly between his fingertips.

I remove his underwear, take him into my mouth, thick and long and wanting; he sighs, holds my head with two steady hands.

When was the last time someone helped him like this? I honestly couldn’t have told you, even given a loose theory, prior to this moment: Rust is simultaneously the hottest and most non-sexual being I’ve ever come across in my life. He just happens to be beautiful; he just happens to inspire these sort of feelings choking up inside me. No overarching intention that he’ll ever admit to, no vanity, no preening. So strict to himself, so tight, like a piston, something that fights and pushes and hurts.

So, as I hold him firmly and suck at the head of his blushing cock, kissing him, I watch his face, savour the tart taste of him, and press my thighs together: he’s becoming warmer, looser.

Still, as much as I want him, I know he’s wanted me. However vague he tells it, he’s wanted me. Good Lord, he looks even more stressed now, somehow, than when we had just been talkin’. Hands gently cradling my skull, he tilts his head away, watches the cross on the wall, as he succumbs to it, maybe, and begins to gently, languidly fuck my face. I tuck a hand between my thighs, and I love him, my other with the fingers digging into his hip, his ass. If I’m lucky, maybe it’ll leave some sort of mark, just to remind him I was here, so that, when he’s being all indifferent again, with his eyes lowered to the floor as he shares a report with me at my prim, little desk, we’ll both know that we were once in this room together, here like this.

Rust breathes and breathes, almost mechanically, and slides his cock further into my mouth. The weight of him in there drives me half-insane. If I could consume him, envelop him, and we could be one and the same, I’d readily allow it. When he sinks deeper still down my throat, I sigh around him, rub myself the way I like.

His eyes are determinedly shut, like some part of him refuses to be here. 

Before I can make him cum, he shakes his head and tugs my hair back a little bit, mumbling for me to stop and sit away. 

For all his mouthiness just a half hour ago, would you look at him now?—Rust Cohle, plundered by the human sensation of speechlessness. I’ve never seen him out of his element before. When he comes down and cages me with his body, hot skin flush against hot skin, I don’t mean that in a bad sense. Shit, he’s far from it. But there’s nothing to say. Nothing of note, nothing to pick apart, no deeper meaning, no theory. Just an itch that has to be scratched. He wants, he is, and it’s heaven to see. 

In the dark, he sinks in to me as he is, eliciting from me a soft moan that curls over the shell of his ear. I have to bite down on his shoulder when comes the push, the stretch, the sink, the comfort of him inside. I curl my legs around his waist and grab at his ass, willing him deeper still. He shudders silently over me, thick ripples of pleasure rolling through his lean body.

I curse, but I’m sure it barely registers with him. 

His head lifts and his eyes clamp shut as he braces an arm against the wall, lifting one of my legs up over his hip and fucking into me deeper, slipping out and in, and again, and again. I know what I’d see if I took a look down, saw his cock pumping into me, but I can hardly do anything but buck my hips up to meet his effort, my stomach stuttering with that building pressure, hands gripping desperately around his neck and shoulders. 

Though, I’m not even sure it is effort that’s driving him. 

I mumble into his shoulder, dumb, focussing on the feel and press of him in my belly. I doubt he’s really aware of anything more than the sensation of it, evident from the small grunt that passes his lips as he fucks deep in me. His stomach presses heavier down onto mine, crushing a delicious pressure there, teasing out a long, breathy whimper. He snakes an arm around my hips, pushes his free hand to the back of my knee, tilting my legs back a little more, and then pulls me wider. Tight, he moves me how he wants me, my flesh dipping and carving, fucking himself raw with me, with my hot cunt. His mouth moves over mine, not kissing me, not speaking, just there, present, hot, panting. He doesn’t open his eyes, so I close mine, and I breathe.

Rust stutters and cums and spills over into me with a grunt. He pants sharply, harshly, rhythmically into my mouth, tense again, and then he collapses over my body, and he lays there. I lay there too, burning on the far inside. 

I think he only really remembers I’m there when I shift under him.

His eyelashes brush against my cheek. “Sorry,” he murmurs, but the sound of his voice scrapes directly against my brain with the shock of a flesh-wound. 

I assume he’s referring to the thick cum that I can feel leaking out of me now. He shifts his hips, adjusting himself in the grip of my cunt. My fingers wrap around his arms, squeeze as I feel him easing out. 

“It’s okay,” I reply. 

He glances down between us and guides himself out with a lewd noise, swallowing hard. I shiver. 

Quiet, sedated, he shrugs his trousers, his underwear, off of his ankles, slipping the bedsheet over both our naked selves. His hand spreads and flattens warm over my abdomen, feeling the gentle swell and sink of the breaths I take and release.

#true detective #rust cohle #marty hart #rust cohle x reader #rust cohle x reader smut #okay cool this is a bit niche hope you liked it #this show made me question my life's purpose #the first season at least #thanks matthew mcconaughey #anybody else here like Fiona apple or what

[lanasblood]

BIG EYES, BIG LIES | neteyam x reader

pairing: neteyam x f!metkayina!reader  summary: you've had suffered silently from years of bullying within the metkayina clan, never sharing your pain with anyone, not even your boyfriend neteyam, until one day, there's no other option, resulting in a huge argument between the two of you but also a moment of understanding and healing.  word count: 5.8k warnings: angsty beginning, fluffy end, !!!severe mentions of bullying, injuries, violence, blood!!! (read at your own risk), established relationship, protective neteyam, angry neteyam, healer boyfriend neteyam, difficult past, lying, insults, some suggestive comments, let me know if i forgot something. note: all characters are aged up; the following na’vi words were used: tsurak - skimwing, skxawng - idiot, pxasìk - screw that/no way, kurkung - asshole, kalweyaveng - son of a bitch (lit. 'child of a poisonous spider‘), tsantu - good guy

* gif's not mine. 

The familiar sound of your name said over and over again lured you into consciousness. You had lost all sense of the space-time continuum, not knowing where up or down was, whether you were alive or dead. 

Only the pain was omnipresent, it told you it was real what you felt. It burned and pulsed, throbbed and tingled. You surrendered to this pain for what felt like an eternity, groaning again in agony because every movement, no matter how tiny, hurt.

"You are awake."

A bright voice made you widen your eyes. Everything was dark, shadowy, intangible, strange.

Panic flooded your body and only now did you feel the cold around your legs, your aching body. It was dark, almost black. The kind of perfect darkness you saw in shades of dark grey in front of your eyes as a result of signals from the optic nerves. You were lying on the ground of the empty marui near the seawall terraces. 

"No, don't move. Please." 

You only heard a single voice, but you felt many more echoing in your pounding head. Hands were on your shoulders, apparently wanting to prevent you from making too hectic movements or even getting up, which increased your panic.

"Right, uh, light, light, light, mhm — Ah, there! Wait here!" 

You squinted against the darkness again, hoping to see something, but the only thing you could really see clearly was a beam of soft dancing lights coming through the small crack under the entry into the marui you were in and the faint outline of the person kneeling in front of you.

Before you could reply anything, the light coming from a bioluminescent seashell was held in your face without warning and you squinted your eyes again, trying to protect them from the purple light. 

"I'm so sorry, y/n I should've warned you," you heard the person in front of you speak who happens to be none other than Neteyam's brother, Lo'ak. "Damn! You don't look good at all!"

Thank you.

"What happened?"

"I guess, I, um…" Quick, you had to think of a good lie now, "I didn't feel so good after today's training. You know, high intensity under the sun can be exhausting," You looked down at yourself and noticed your bloodstained upper piece. "And it, uh, caused nose-bleeding…" You noticed the many bruises on your legs. "I must've fainted because of it, hurting myself." 

"I can see that," Lo'ak looked pitifully at the left side of your face, right under your eye, then shifted his gaze to your bruised upper lip, and back at the place right under your hairline. "Did you fall face-first or something? That looks so baaaad."

Thanks again, appreciated.

"I, uh, yeah, can you help me up?" 

A sharp pain shot through your chest as Lo'ak pulled you up by your arm and you had to grab the wall to catch your breath. You coughed uncontrollably as whatever it was that caused that pain left you breathless. Lo'ak patted you gently on the back, carefully, but every touch hurt.

"I didn't know you had to train so hard. I thought you had a fun day as we did, playing with the ilus."

"My teacher's very strict unfortunately."

"Hmm."

"What are you doing here anyway? It's the girls' communal marui."

Lo'ak's eyes widened at your question, "I swear I'm not some kind of creep," he quickly said, "Tsireya said she lost her hair band so I figured I look for it here," he looked at the ground beneath his feet, which was smeared with dirt and blood – your blood, "but maybe it's not here, yeah, anyway, good thing I came here or else you would've died or something."

"I wouldn't have died," you said, amazed at his dramatic exaggeration.

Lo'ak shrugged his shoulders, "Not so sure about that."

You followed his gaze and your reflection in the mirror caught your attention. Your skin was sticky, your clothes were damp with blood and sweat, and you felt gross. 

"I, uh," Feeling a sense of embarrassment, Lo'ak gestured with his finger towards the spot behind the marui, "I'll just quickly go… there, uh, for a moment. Will you be okay?" You nodded. "Neteyam is near, by the way, we have a chill round with Tsireya and Ao'nung and the others, how about you come with me?" You stared at him as if frozen, but eventually managed to nod once more. "Perfect. Okay. See you in a minute." With that, he left you alone, and you felt your breath quicken. 

On one hand, a sense of relief washed over you at the thought of Neteyam being nearby and able to be there for you when you needed him. On the other hand, you had no idea how you would talk your way out of this situation. He would ask questions, and it would become uncomfortable. Old lies would threaten to resurface. The thought made your stomach churn.

You noticed how your shawl, which you had wrapped around yourself, had absorbed the blood, leaving the fabric irreparably stained. In this condition, going home was out of the question. Not only would your mother be beside herself upon seeing you, but you also had to pass through the communal areas to reach your marui. Once Lo'ak was out of sight, you struggled to slip the fabric off your shoulders, feeling the pain in every single bone. You realized that even your upper piece hadn't been spared as you held the shawl under the water and noticed the stains on your upper body.

Outside the marui, you kneeled down with an effort, and decided to wash your hands and face in one of the pool's water. A drop of pinkish-red-colored sweat dripped from your chin into the water, or maybe it wasn't sweat at all, who knew, it could be tears as well, you shouldn't just limit it to sweat.

"That's what I get for lying," you hissed at yourself, while your hands dunk back into the water, getting everything else around you, including half of your upper body, wet.

You decided to wash the red stains out of your shawl, the water changing its color around your hands to a washed-out reddish blur.

There was a clearing of the throat in the distance, perhaps just a few meters away from you.

"I'm coming back, y/n, okay?"

You cursed under your breath, focussing solely on removing the stains as you washed the shawl in your hands even more aggressively now, the noise of the splashing water being louder than your own thoughts.

"Let's go!" Lo'ak stood behind you.

Before you knew it, you had torn the light blue fabric in your hand. You closed your eyes in defeat and suppressed another curse word. It was a shame actually, because you liked combining the shawl with matching loincloths over various chest pieces you were wearing most of the time. You at least convinced yourself that you wouldn't have gotten the bloodstains out anyway, so the fate of the garment was sealed from the start, even before you had accidentally torn it.

Setting aside the damp piece of torn fabric, you stood up with a sigh and turned to Lo'ak, ready to follow him to wherever he would take you. At least you had washed most of the blood off your body.

"Thank you for not dying on me," Lo'ak joked next to you and all you could manage was a small smile. Your entire body ached, and every step you took felt as if you could collapse at any moment.

In the distance, you could discern a gathering of young Na'vi near the shoreline, forming a circle as they enjoyed each other's company. Some sat or reclined in the sand, while others perched on rocks, and a few stood, perhaps sharing tales. Their laughter resonated through the air, creating a joyful ambiance against the backdrop of the shimmering water and the twinkling stars above.

Just a few meters away, Lo'ak gave you a final thumbs-up, leading the way to the group with you by his side, and the clamor of voices grew increasingly chaotic, enveloping both of you in its midst.

"No, of course not, it should fear us!"

"What are you talking about? Not even my grandma would fear you!"

"Your grandma isn't a fish, is she?"

"Don't say anything against my grandma!"

Your head felt like exploding any second. Not because of the boys, but because you felt the need to lie down. That's what you thought until you suddenly heard Neteyam's calm voice, and instantly, you felt a little bit better.

"If you approach it with the right mindset and undergo the necessary training, I have no doubts you will succeed!"

"No, he definitely has no chance, look at him, like a squid in armor."

Tsireya, who had refrained from the heated discussion, was the only one who looked up. As her eyes met yours, they widened, and she quickly rose from her seat, approaching you. With a gentle and questioning gaze, she placed a hand on your arm, showing her concern.

"Are you okay?" she asked in a soft voice searching your gaze. Appreciating her care, you placed your hand on hers, mustering a small smile.

You heard how Lo'ak cleared his throat, as it seemed that nobody else had noticed you.

"Don't mind them, y/n," Lo'ak turned to you, as your presence remained unnoticed by the boys, "You can take my seat over there next to Tsireya's while I go find you a new shawl." 

"No, here, take mine," Tsireya suggested already putting her shawl over your shoulders, the piece hugging your torso. 

After that it got quiet very quickly, because when your name was mentioned, Neteyam looked up, and with him the others.

Immediately he got up from the rock he was sitting on and in a few steps he stood right in front of you, hesitating whether he should hug you, and finally decided to do so. When he carefully put his arm around you and pulled you close, you hissed slightly out of pain and suddenly felt even more fragile and broken than in all of the previous weeks. 

"I go and bring some new clothing for her," you heard Tsireya's voice, "and maybe some wound dressing from my mother." You saw out of the corner of your eye how Lo'ak nodded gratefully when Tsireya was already hurrying away. 

You didn't feel like crying, but you felt so weak and helpless and wanted to just stand there for hours while Neteyam hugged you.

"What happened?" he asked softly, his voice thick with concern. 

"Is that blood?" you heard the other boys whisper among themselves.

"Did you see her face, man?"

Rotxo's voice stood out more than the others as he addressed his question directly to you, repeating Neteyam's words, "What happened, y/n?"

You stayed quiet and pressed closer to Neteyam despite the pain, and Lo'ak did the answering for you, "The training today under the sun made her nose bleed out of exhaustion or allergy or something so that she passed out," he explained hastily, heading back to his seat.

You felt Neteyam stiffen in the hug and you squinted to escape reality for a few more seconds.

"First of all, what kind of lie is that even?" Your heart sank when you heard one of the boys – you guessed Ao'nung – talking loudly, questioning the course of action, and before long everyone else was about to join in the conversation, one at a time. And with every sentence you felt the urge to leave the place on the spot. 

"Ask y/n, I swear that's what happened! I found her near the marui by the seawall terraces."

"She might have been passed out but pxasìk — I don't buy that!"

"What were you doing there, Lo'ak?" someone else with longer hair asked. 

"None of your business, bro."

"And second of all, she rather looks like she was beaten up." At that, Neteyam pushed you slightly away from him to give you a questioning look and inspect you more closely. His eyes alternated between yours and you recognized how the hint of suspicion crept into his eyes.

"She was clearly beaten up!" The girl on the far left, Neteyam's sister, Kiri, unexpectedly supported Ao'nung's statement, which was highly unusual for her. It wasn't her cold demeanor towards you that was atypical, but rather her agreement with Ao'nung that caught you off guard.

"Yeah, right! I mean, look at her." Every head turned to you now, inspecting you from head to toe, as if you were some kind of object.

"That's not true," you argued weakly, supporting yourself on the tree with your left hand, and grabbing Neteyam's hand with your right one because your feet threatened to buckle any second. Noticing that, he lead you to the rock right in front of you and carefully helped you sit down.

"The real question is who did that to poor y/n?"

"Why? You wanna beat up some girls for her?"

"Girls? I thought it'd be some kurkung from the tsurak taming team."

"Hey, don't say that, they're cool."

"Yeah, and don't cuss when Kiri and y/n are here."

"They are no children."

"Tsireya's back!" Lo'ak's voice drowned out the others, not surprising given the fact how loud he announced the return of the soft-spoken girl. Apart from you no one seemed to pay any attention to him, they were far too busy arguing amongst themselves.

"Nah, man, what kinda skxawng beats girls? Not me for sure." 

"Let's teach those guys a lesson then."

"So now you wanna beat up guys for her?"

"Why not? She's Neteyam's girl, she's one of us." 

"True words." You frowned as you realized how much they had gotten into the discussion when Tsireya handed you a neatly packed bag with fresh clothing inside which you gratefully accepted.

"Why would you all choose violence all of a sudden?" Tsireya looked around with an irritated expression, not sure what she had missed in the last couple of minutes.

"Those kalweyavengs deserve it!"

"You skxawng don't talk like that in front of my sister."

"But, you said—"

"Everybody quiet!" You winced slightly when you heard the anger in his voice vibrate through his body; he who had kept quiet the whole time, just observing, never speaking. Instantly it fell silent at the beach and all eyes were on Neteyam, except for yours. 

"It has gotten late," he added, quieter but clearly audible, "We should all go back to the village." You expected a protest to erupt, but you were wrong again. Without a word, the individual heads of that group got up from where they sat on rocks or the sand, and left the beach, heading in the direction of the village, one after the other. 

"Thank you, brother," Neteyam spoke as Lo'ak passed by, giving him a grateful pat on the back of his head. You caught Lo'ak nodding at him and giving you a pitiful look, and you managed to mouth a 'thank you' as well before he left. 

"Why did you lie to him?" Neteyam nodded his head in the direction of his now-gone brother. "To Lo'ak, I mean."

You stared at your hands on your lap instead of answering him, so he sighed and knelt in front of you, positioning himself between your legs. With a gentle touch, he placed his hands on each of your thighs, right at the hem of your loincloth.

"I'm seriously worried, y/n, and it's almost a miracle I'm staying calm right now. What happened?" He cocked his head and looked up, searching for the gaze you were trying so hard to avoid. "Please talk to me." The gentle touch of his hands on your thighs, which you usually never got enough of, now felt like a burning sensation, causing inner agony within you.

"I didn't want to tell him the truth," you finally said, answering his first question.

"Do you want to tell me?"

"It's nothing, Neteyam, I—"

"Nothing?" He laughed wryly, letting go and walking away from you as he walked around in a circle and turned back with an ironic smile that didn't reach his eyes, his tail whipped aggressively behind him, "That certainly doesn't look like nothing to me." He gestured to you with both hands.

You covered your face with your hair because you could only imagine how terrible you must've looked, how disgusted he must've been with you, that he thought you weren't beautiful.

"You're in pain. You have bruises everywhere. You're covered in blood! And yet you say it's nothing. Do you listen to yourself?"

"I can handle it," you replied, adding more quietly, "It's not that I'm not used to it."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," you said quickly, irritated by his questions, "I mean nothing at all. Can… can you help me change into these?" You held up the bag from Tsireya which provided a good change of subject. It would be impossible for you to raise both arms and put the pieces on by yourself. On second thought, Neteyam would see the bruises on your chest that way, and the mere thought made your stomach ache. Therefore, realizing that the shawl provided good cover and not wanting to part with it, you added a quick, "Nevermind, I'll do it myself."

As if he had read your thoughts, he approached you with a determined gaze. Your breath caught as you felt his hand pull the shawl from your shoulders. Quickly, you clung to the fabric, stopping mid-movement, and placed your other hand on his to stop him from exposing your skin.

"Please," you looked him in the eyes, your voice barely audible. You didn't know what you begged him for. To stop him from seeing your injuries? To stop touching you? To stop asking questions? To stop digging for the truth? Did you want him to stop in the first place? Or did you want him to find out and free you from your net of lies?

He gently slipped your shawl off your shoulders, and then sucked in a sharp breath and bit the inside of his cheek, apparently trying to keep himself from swearing but the restless movements of his tail gave him away.

You didn't have to look to see that a huge wound must have been looming on your collarbones and on your side right under your breasts. Judging by the pain, you wouldn't be surprised if some ribs were broken.

"Who did this to you." It was no longer a question driven by curiosity, as he had asked earlier. This was serious. He wanted names and locations. He wanted to know who had done such a dreadful thing to his loved one. Who dared to harm you in any way. Judging by the fire in his eyes, he wanted to see that person bleed the way you did. 

"Are you going to beat up some girls for me?" You playfully repeated the question you'd heard one of the boys say before. However, the way Neteyam clenched his jaw showed you it wasn't time to crack up some jokes.

"Tell me."

"No."

"Y/n."

"Neteyam."

He studied you intently, examining every facial expression, every subtle gesture, before speaking again, "You never slipped down any cliffs last week, did you?" he asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice. "And what about last month when you said you—"

"I lied, okay?" you shouted at him, unleashing the pent-up frustration, as if he were the cause of your misery. "I made it all up. Every single bit of it. I'm a liar, and I'm a coward. Are you happy now?" 

"Happy? It pains me to see you like that," he retorted, his voice rising with frustration, "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"What was I supposed to say!?" you shouted back, your voice filled with exasperation. "Cry like a baby and point at them for being mean to me?"

"No, but someone could've helped. Everything is better than that!" His tone was raised as well when he pointed at your bruises.

"They won't! I tried!" you hissed, the bitterness evident in your voice, "Once, when I was little and foolishly believed that my parents would trust and listen to me. But what did they do? They forced us to hug and pretend to be friends again, dismissing it all as a mere misunderstanding among children. And you know what happened next? They sought their revenge by cutting my hair," you swallowed hard, the memory of that painful incident resurfacing, "I cried so much that day. That's when I made a promise to myself that I would never tell anyone anything again." 

"I am here now, I hear you, I see you," he responded gently, his voice filled with empathy, "Please, let me help." You shook off the hand that he tried to place on your shoulder. He silently acknowledged this, a hurt expression crossing his eyes, which he quickly concealed.

"There's nothing you can do. I've learned from my mistake today: Don't confront them when it's four against one. Simple solution," you stated firmly, emphasizing your resolve.

"I am eager to find out who they are," he expressed with a determined tone.

"It's not important."

"Y/n," Neteyam shook his head, his expression firm, "I won't be at peace unless you tell me their names."

"Don't ask me!" you once again raised your voice against him. "I won't say anything. You make it worse for me."

"I am the one making it worse?" he asked, seeking confirmation.

"Yes," you said firmly, causing him to blink in surprise. "Please, Neteyam, for the love of Eywa, stop asking!"

"Understood," he nodded, his nose flared up and his tail on edge.

"You're pissed, I can understand that… but I don't deserve the way you treat me right now. You're pushing me too much." 

"What do you exactly want me to do?!" His voice erupted with anger, his frustration visible, "Yes, I am pissed. But not because of the lies or because of your bruises. I am pissed because of you. Because of the way you're behaving right now. Your eye and the bruises on your face and body were not an accident, that's a fact we both are aware of. Yet, you choose to protect them. But why? It seems you're too proud to admit the truth, to tell me the truth."

"That's not true!" you yelled at him angrily, annoyed by repeating yourself over and over again.

He let out a groan of frustration, seemingly struggling to maintain self-control, "Just tell me who did this to you and I will make sure they regret ever laying a finger on you!"

He waited for your response.

You remained silent, holding your ground against his warning gaze for a long moment.

"Good," he interrupted the eye contact and nodded his head, "Then don't trust me, it's fine."

"Neteyam…"

"This is pointless." Neteyam brushed you off, walking back towards the village, not giving you another look when he passed your shoulder.

"Neteyam, don't walk away from me," you snapped out, feeling anger flare up inside of you. You reached out and grabbed his arm. 

He stopped, slowly turning to face you.

"Just… stop for a second, okay?" you said in an irritated tone.

"Why?" He retorted. 

He was staring at you, and you were staring back at him, and you were suddenly hyper aware of how close he was standing to you. Both of you breathing heavily, anger and frustration ebbing between the two of you; you were standing close, so close. You were suddenly struck by how attractive he was, his eyes flashing as he stared at you, searching your face for any answers when he took another step closer. 

"If only you knew how much it hurts to be pushed away like this."

Before you knew what was happening, he brushed off your arm again, and walked away, leaving you to yourself and your lies. And this time, you didn't stop him; you only focussed on the point where he was standing just seconds ago, thinking of his words that left a deep pain in your chest, making you choke on your own words and tears falling from your eyes.

A little later, as you sat on the sand, lost in your thoughts, you hopefully perked up at the sound of footsteps approaching in the sand. Your heart fluttered with hope, and you hastily wiped away the tears from your face, turning around with anticipation, expecting to see Neteyam, but to your surprise it was just Kiri.

"Where's Neteyam?" she asked you.

"Gone." You put the little shell you were playing with back on the sand and traced the pattern with your finger.

"Well, you're here, so I'm sure he'll come back." You strongly doubted that, considering the way he had last looked at you.

"He was really angry," you mumbled, thinking back to your little argument. You spoke more to yourself than to Kiri. In fact, you didn't even think she heard you or paid any attention to you when you heard her gather and pack up the two pillows and the seaweed blanket that she forgot before. Yet her next question made you look up in surprise.

"But can you blame him?" Kiri narrowed her eyes in annoyance as she looked at you.

"I'm sorry?" you looked at her expectantly.

Kiri puffed bored, "My brother has always been courteous and polite towards you. He was the  perfect definition of tsantu. Oh, Great Mother— he stripped his soul for you and gave you everything you wanted. Do you really blame him for getting angry for once?"

You focused your gaze back on the sand in front of you. The little shells looked like they were expecting an answer from you that never came for you didn't know what to reply to that.

"You are a grown girl. You have to be able to take a little criticism," Kiri added as she headed back to the village, "And I'm sure you both will fix it again. Buck up and get well soon." You nodded your thanks as she raised her hand in farewell and left again.

A heavy, uncomfortable silence fell over you, enveloping you like a suffocating blanket. At that moment, you felt utterly alone, isolated from the world around you not even caring of your body's aches anymore. Mirroring the depths of your solitude under the dark skies, the vast expanse of the ocean stretched out before you. Its endless waves, crashing against the shore, seemed to echo the tumultuousness of your thoughts. 

You had no idea how long you had been sitting in the sand, lost in contemplation of your life when you heard footsteps behind you once again that night. This time, you didn't bother to look up, for you knew it would be one of the others who had forgotten something (though you were unsure what, as Kiri had taken everything), or perhaps your parents, searching for you.

Without a word, the person sat down across from you on his knees and reached out with his arm to pull you closer to him so that your thighs were between his knee and his between yours.

In an instant, the unmistakably pleasing scent of him infused with a mix of dew-kissed leaves and the earthy allure of sandalwood, clung to you like a whispered secret, caressed your nose and relaxed your muscles. 

You endured it silently as he took a cloth out of the bowl of water he brought with him, wrung it out briefly and then carefully dabbed the area under your eye with it. He did this with so much caution and care that you felt bad for emotionally pushing him away from you. You watched his forehead furrow in concentration and he paused and waited every time you flinched at the pain.

"Since when?" you heard him speak, his voice pleasantly calm and understanding.

"Too long," you said, to which he sighed, not annoyed but rather disappointed because you continued to hold onto the emotional wall you had built long ago. "I'm sorry, Neteyam, it's just…" you struggled to find the right words.

"There's no need for apologies if you're content with staying the same."

"I'm not," you clarified honestly. "You have no idea how burdensome these lies are. I want to confide in you — it's just that I was scared of your reaction." As you spoke, you noticed how his tail twitched with interest, and his gaze shifted from the wound on your face to meet your eyes. "I was afraid that you would see me as weak and pity me. I had hoped that the lies would help me preserve this fragile facade. But I now realize I was mistaken, and for that I'm deeply sorry, Neteyam, I've never wanted to hurt your feelings."

"Y/n," Neteyam whispered, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek with a touch filled with love and affection, "my beloved, the one who holds my heart, I am sorry for pushing you before and I will wait until you are ready to talk but, please, tell me how I can help you. Tell me everything."

You shrugged, shaking your hand, looking everywhere but him.

"Neteyam, I know you want to help, but I don't want you to mess with these girls," you then looked him serious in the eyes, "Promise me that first."

A cocky smirk appeared on his lips, "Baby, if you really think I'm scared of some—"

"Neteyam," you interrupted him, your tone serious, "They may be bullies, but they're not completely stupid. They won't direct their actions towards you; they'll most likely take their anger out of your siblings."

His smirk vanished in an instant, "You know, I won't let that happen."

"I know," you affirmed sincerely. "You are their brother, and you will protect them, but you can't be everywhere all at once. You can't keep a constant watch over Tuk while also looking after Lo'ak or Kiri, for instance. Please don't risk it. I can handle it, really. I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to one of them because of me."

"I am yours, and you are mine, remember?" He smiled at you, his eyes shining. "So, you are not alone in this. I will go to any lengths to ensure your safety and well-being. I will protect you, y/n, but you must allow me to be there for you."

As the words hung in the air, a moment of silence passed between you, the weight of the conversation lingering. Then, Neteyam reached out, his hand gently intertwining with yours. The touch sent a comforting warmth through your body, bridging the emotional gap that had momentarily separated you.

With a tender squeeze of your hand, he continued, his voice filled with unwavering determination, "You are my family, too." 

Feeling a surge of emotions, you took a deep breath, your heart swelling with love. You looked into Neteyam's eyes, seeing the unwavering commitment reflected back at you. With a soft smile, you nodded, letting your walls come down, and whispered, "I trust you." 

The atmosphere between you shifted, charged with a newfound closeness and vulnerability. It was as if an unspoken understanding passed between your souls, fueling the desire for a deeper connection. In that very second, the world around you faded into the background, leaving only the two of you standing there, hearts entwined. With the tension of unspoken words lingering in the air, you couldn't resist the magnetic pull drawing you closer to him.

So leaning in, you pressed your lips onto his soft ones — not too gently and not too forcefully, but just right. You caught sight of his eyes widening in surprise and his body remained still, but you mustered up the last bit of courage to close your eyes and hope for the best. When you felt the feathering of his eyelashes brush against your lids, you knew he, too, had his eyes closed. Then he leaned in ever so slightly, and his hands reached up to cup your uninjured cheek and the other behind your head.

Your heart pounded so loudly and harshly that you didn't think your chest could handle it, your stomach fluttered and churned with a mess of emotions that you didn't know if they'd ever go away, and your mind flooded with thousands of unanswered questions that you thought you might faint again anytime soon. But then you pulled away, your lips and his seemingly too reluctant for the loss of contact as they attempted to remain connected until the very last second, and your eyes fluttered open to the world which had frozen still; it had been a short kiss, that's for sure, but it was one that you'd remember for years to come.

"You do something to me that I can't explain," he whispered against your lips before he retrained. 

"You do the same to me," you whispered back, "but I think I can explain."

"What is it?"

"I see you," you breathed, leaning up to kiss him again.

He backed away to put some distance between you and you raised an eye questioningly.

"If I kiss you again – and believe me, every cell in my body wants to," With a nervous laugh, he scratched the back of his neck before his lustful gaze turned back to you and you physically felt the  excited shimmyflies in your stomach threatening to break out, "I just know, I won't be able to stop."

"Then don't."

"Oh, sweets, you love to make it hard for me, don't you?"

An inappropriate thought crossed your mind at that but you chose not to say it out loud. You didn't have to, because Neteyam's smirk looked like he knew exactly what was going through your head.

"C'mere, we need to patch you up first, and then—"

"Then we'll go to our place?" you asked excitedly.

"After I inspect you properly and decide that you don't need to see Tsahìk which I'm not so sure of yet – yes, then we could go to our place, and watch the stars or—"

"Why don't you properly inspect me at our place?" you interrupted him with a seemingly innocent look. He licked his lower lip in amusement, shaking his head.

"You're something."

"Your something," you corrected.

He looked at you in awe, as if you are the most precious thing he had ever seen. "My something," he agreed chuckling to himself and pressed a soft kiss on the top of your head. "Now hold still so I can clean your wounds." 

thank you all for reading ♥︎ I hope you enjoyed this piece of writing. looking forward to your comments and feedback 💕 (p.s. for anyone wondering about the other boys, i imagined ao'nung's "bully" friends nash'vi, koro, and ongu to sit with them)

#neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam x you #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully imagine #avatar the way of water #avatar the way of water imagine #atwow #atwow neteyam #atwow neteyam imagine #protective neteyam #angry neteyam #boyfriend neteyam #soft neteyam #neteyam fluff #neteyam angst #avatar 2 #neteyam x female reader #boyfriend!neteyam

[joshlmbrt]

hi angel, im so excited to read your stories :)

would love to make an angsty Steve x reader request. im forever such a Steve Harrington girl 🥹

an angsty enemies (more like rivals) to lovers. they get roped into the upside down things together, and their mutual love for the kids really brings them together. over the seasons they get closer and closer, silently falling in love. then towards the end, something happens and they all get separated.. and they all think she’s dead? until they’re somehow reunited and realize she’s okay? and Steve’s just a wreck, completely inconsolable thinking that she’s gone. and even more of a mess when he finds out she’s alive?

…or is that stupid… 🥲🥲

Angsty Teens. ( s. harrington x reader )

【𝜗𝜚 warnings; enemies to lovers!!!!, canon compliant, r is dustin’s sibling, r makes a joke about a father leaving during the middle of the night, dustin & erica gets TIRED ( robin enjoys the banter ), they think r is dead, blood, long over-due kissy kiss, sort of changed it a bit - i hope that’s okay! NO ONE DIES! i don’t think there is any use of pronouns, but if there is, let me know!

【𝜗𝜚 an; oh, oh, this is NOT stupid AT ALL!!!! ( no request is ever stupid! ) i was just gonna do 1-3 but then …. i rethought and decided to do all four. i hope you enjoy and this is what you had in mind!!

1983

There’s something about Steve Harrington - Steve ‘King’ Harrington as many people loved to call him - that you hated.

You weren’t for sure what caused this deep hatred. Maybe it was the many girls who he kept wrapped around his finger and he just messed with them, loved to parade it around.

‘Look at me! I have someone, and you don’t!’

Or maybe it was the fact that he used to be your friend and completely ditched you for Thomas Hagan and Carol Michaels.

“Your face is going to get stuck like that.” Eddie notes out loud, a small smirk on his face as he watches your face scrunch up in disgusted as the boy walks past with his goons and the girl of the month.

Nancy Wheeler.

Pretty. Pristine. Good grades. Never in trouble.

Her poor friend Barbra Holland - also known as Barb - was following behind quietly, books tucked close to her chest.

“Shut up,” You grumble to Eddie, slamming the locker door shut. “Hey, Barb!” You wave, giving her a kind smile.

Her head towards yours, waving with a small smile. She continues to follow behind Nancy.

You sigh. “I don’t get why he goes from girl to girl.”

“Well, he seems pretty serious about her.” Eddie shrugs, walking out with you.

“He seemed serious with Vanessa, Tiffany, Erica, Monica, and-”

Eddie clasps a hand over your mouth. You stare at him with wide eyes. “Okay. Okay,” He breathes, removing his hand. “I think I know why you feel this way.”

“What way?” You open the passenger door to Eddie’s van and slips in. He shuts the door for you, jogging to the other side.

He opens the door. “Jealous.”

You sputter on words. “What?! Me? Jealous? You cannot be serious!”

He slips into the car, shutting his door. “You had a small crush on Stevie boy and then - boom - he suddenly gets popular overnight with his big hair and nice polos.”

“Okay, first,” You hold up an index finger. “Gag me with a spoon. Secondly, I am not jealous. I could care less who Steve Harrington dates. He’s just. . . a boy.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You know what I mean. I just hate that he leads everyone one, making them think he cares for them, then - bam - he’s gone like a father who leaves in the middle of the night.”

He purses his lips and squints his eyes at you. “I feel like you just related Steve to your father.”

“I did.”

He hums, nodding and turning in his seat. “Alrighty, then.”

ও

NOVEMBER 24TH 1983

There’s a knocking on the door that causes you to flinch and Nancy turn quickly, high on alert.

You’d never guess you’d be fighting faceless monsters with your brother and his small friends, plus Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers.

“You don’t think they knock, do you?” You breathe out, a bead of sweat dripping down your temple.

“Jonathan! It’s me, Steve! I just- I’m not looking to cause any trouble, I just wanted-” Nancy is marching towards the door, opening it only a crack. His bruised face is confused when he sees the girl. “Nance? What-what are you doing here?”

“You need to leave.” Is all she says.

His eyes dart over her face, shaking his head. “What are you doing here? What happened to your hand?” His eyes peek over her head and you gulp once they land on your face. “What’s she doing here? What’s going on?”

He pushes his way in, stumbling a bit. He stands straighter, eyes moving over all the lights in the home.

“What is all this? What’s-”

“Steve,” Nancy says, catching his attention. He looks over at her, holding his hands up quickly.

You quickly step in front of Steve without thinking. “Nancy, what are you-” She cuts you off.

“You need to leave. And now.”

“Nancy.”

“I don’t understand what is going on! You all are acting craz-"

“Nancy!” Jonathan finally catches the attention of you all, he places his finger on his lips. “Listen.” He whispers.

Everyone goes silent, eyes lifting towards the roof.

“This is crazy. . .” Steve whispers to himself. “This is crazy! This is crazy!”

He rushes towards phone, picking it up. Nancy yanks it from his hold, slamming it back down. “Leave. Now. While you have the chance.”

And of course, Steve leaves, the door slamming behind him.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head.

The lights cut off, before flickering. You freeze, eyes darting around.

“Nancy!” You call out. “I can’t see anything! What’s-” A scream leaves your lips, your legs getting lifting from the ground, the blood flowing down to your head quickly.

“Oh, my god! Oh, no! Please! I don’t want to die!” You didn’t feel like you were going to die, but. . . with these things? You never know.

Your dropped onto your back, your breath being knocked from your lungs. A hand grips your shoulder pulling you up.

“Come on!” A voice eerily similar to Steve yells out. You check over your shoulder, before heat suddenly licks up your body.

You flinch back from the fire, staring down at the flames.

“Do you think it’s dead?” Nancy whispers. Jonathan steps forward, her hand shooting out quickly to grab at his arm.

“I’m just checking.” He says. She nods hesitantly, dropping her hand. He kneels down in front of the trap, watching it bubble.

“I think it’s dead.”

ও

Dustin’s head was laid over on left your shoulder, Lucas’ head occupied your right shoulder. Your arms were fuzzy but you weren’t going to complain.

Happy Will was alright and all the kids were fine. . . besides the poor girl who had grown on you.

Jonathan steps into the room, a small smile on his face. “Guys,” Mike was the only one away, slapping at Dustin’s arm. “Will’s awake.”

Mike stands from the seat, slapping both their shoulders now. You laugh softly, shaking your head as both of them startle awake.

“Come on! Will’s awake!” Mike cheers. Dustin grins, shooting up from his seat, Lucas following behind him down the hall to his room.

You’d go visit him later, allowing the boys to have their own time.

You stand from the seat, yawning as you walk towards the water machine, grabbing a small paper cup and filling it.

“Uh,” There’s a throat clearing behind you and you turn around. Steve Harrington. “Thanks for. . . not letting Nancy shoot me.”

“That’s only because I want to,” You shrug. “Not to help you.”

Lies. It’s still in your nature to care for your old friends and it’s tiring. Especially when they wouldn’t do the same for you.

Except, Steve had taken care of you. Made sure you weren’t eaten.

His lip quirks at the corner and he nods. “Right.”

You nod, lifting the cup to your lips, chugging it all. He nods a bit again, turning and making his way towards the door.

“Uh,” You wipe the corner of your lip off. You watch as he stops and turns towards you. “Thanks, too. I guess. For, uh, saving me?”

He nods and smiles a bit. “Anytime.”

ও

1984

You curse yourself for feeling bad for Steve as he watches Nancy stand next to Jonathan, her hand placed on his head.

He steps towards the back door, sitting down on the small step. You sigh a bit, looking out the window above the sink.

“Go talk to him,” There’s a nudge at your side. You turn and look at Dustin. “You know you want too.” He grins.

“Oh, shut up. I don’t want too,” You grumble, turning away and resting your back on the counter. “Why did you even get Steve in the first place?”

He squints his eyes at you. “You were on a date.”

“So? Couldn’t you have called someone else?”

“He was just there,” He says. “Literally.”

You let out a sigh, looking at your chipped polish. “I come home to you and Steve chopping up cubes of steak. It was weird.”

He rolls his eyes. “Go. He’s. . . he needs a friend.”

“You both are friends now,” You lift a brow at him. “Why can’t you go talk to him?”

“Because you know him better than me,” He shrugs. “Than anyone really. Weren’t you both best friends?”

“Key word: were. We aren’t anymore.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you know him better than anyone.”

You frown - because Dustin is right. The little brother who you had taught to be nice to everyone, kill them wiyh kindness even, was giving you the same talk you’d give to him if it was between him and one of his friends.

You sigh and push yourself off the counter. “Fine. But don’t think I’m going to listen to you all the time just because I do this one time.”

He grins cheekily at you, despite all that has happened tonight, and makes his way towards the table and sits down.

You inhale deeply before exhaling, stepping outside now. You shut the door, stepping next to Steve and placing yourself next to him.

You stay quiet, eyes staring at the small building in the back.

“You didn’t have to come out here, you know?”

Your head reels back at the bite in his tone, a frown on your face as you turn to look at him.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

You rub your lips together, wanting to keep everything in.

“Just because your girlfriend doesn’t care about you anymore, doesn’t mean you can just snap at other people. It’s not an excuse,” You snap back. It was a low blow, really. Especially after learning what actually happened at the Halloween party. You stand from your seat.

“You are not going to speak to me that way. I won’t allow it. I came out here to see if you were okay, but. . . I can see that was clearly a mistake. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t love you anymore.”

Your cheeks are flushed red with anger and you walk past him, your dress hitting your thighs as you make your way towards the back door. He calls out your name, but you don’t stop and listen to him.

You shut the door.

ও

1985

Your head slams into the metal wall, a groan leaving your lips. “Booby trap.” You whisper to yourself.

“What?” Dustin murmured.

You stand slowly from the floor. Dustin stands next to you. “The canisters that Steve pulled out was a booby trap,” You narrow your eyes on him. “Why would you do that?!” You throw your arms up.

“Do you think I meant for us to get stuck down here?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Because you never think!”

“Like I wanted to get stuck on an elevator with you!”

“Oh yeah?” Your brows furrow. “I had a date after this and now I won’t be able to go! Because of you pulling out that stupid canister! I mean, really?! Who pulls something out of a box that comes from Russians?!”

Erica leans towards Dustin. “Oh, they hate each other.” She whispers.

Dustin shakes his head, Robin does as well. “No, they don’t.”

“It’s the angsty teen, enemies to lovers plot.” Robin whispers, fingers giddily fiddling together. Erica furrows her brows. Robin cuts her eyes over to the confused girl. She then quickly looks back. “You’ll understand when you read Pride and Prejudice.”

“Pride and what?”

“Prejudice. It’s a-" Robin looks at Erica who has a brow lifted. She stops, lips rubbing together. “I don’t have time to describe it.”

Erica hums, turning towards you and Steve once again. “You know what,” You grumble. “I’m through with arguing with you! You never change!” You throw your arms up, stepping towards the center of the room.

“Dustin,” You say his name. He’s standing next to you in an instant. “Help me up there. I’m going to see if we can climb our way out of this. . . this literal hell. Especially if it has him in it.” He nods and pulls a chair over. You step on top of it, reaching up and pushing the tile up and over. You grip the sides, grunting as you pull yourself up.

You slide back before standing up, pushing your hair back as you stare up, hands on your hips.

You sigh and close your eyes.

You’re all stuck there.

ও

Your forehead is resting on your knees, eyes closed as you rest on top of the elevator.

It had been quiet the whole time, Dustin trying to get ahold of anyone. But of course, no one was answering.

You almost cry at the feeling of being stuck.

You feel someone’s knee bump into yours, and you know who it is before they even speak.

“Are you, uh, okay?”

You huff out a small laugh. “Oh, yeah,” You nod, lifting up your head. “Perfect. I love being stuck in an elevator with no way out.”

He looks down, fingers intertwining together. “It is my fault. I’m sorry.”

You sigh a bit, shaking your head. “It’s not your fault,” It pains you to say it, but it’s right. It’s not his fault that he pulled out a canister filled with mystery green goop. “We just know now that Russians can’t build elevators now.”

He snorts. “That’s exactly what I said.” You smile a bit.

“I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean what I said,” You let out a sigh. “I was just. . . angry.”

He nods a bit. “I understand,” He pushes a hand through his hair. “I promise to listen to you next time.”

You lift a brow. “Oh, that’s going to be so hard for you, Harrington.”

He nods and scoffs. “Definitely.” You give him a small smile.

Your heart feels a bit warm at the interaction.

ও

1986.

“Steve!” Dustin cries out, his knees digging into the unnatural ground. “She’s. . . She’s not waking up!”

Steve drops the bags, Nancy almost stumbling over the thing before coming to a stop. He jogs over, dropping to his knees.

The color had drained slightly causing Steve to worry. “Okay, move.” He pushes at Dustin’s hands. Dustin looks up at him with a worried express, tears falling down his cheeks and onto your shirt.

“What are you going to do?”

“CPR.” He nods, his hands moving onto your chest.

“You-you know how to do CPR?” Dustin’s voice wavers. Steve nods, huffing as he mutters numbers. He leans down over your mouth.

He lifts back up, pumping once again. After four times, tilts your head back, unhinging your jaw more. His lips press to yours, blowing into your mouth.

Dustin’s eyes dart between you both, eyes wide with worry. Robin, Nancy, and Eddie stand behind him watching.

There’s a deep greedy inhale that has Steve pulling back, allowing you to breath in the air. He pulls you up, hand pushing back your hair.

“Hey, hey. . . God,” He mutters to himself. His hand trails down your back. “Thank God you’re okay.”

Dustin throws his arms around your neck. You wrap an arm around his side, patting his back. “Steve saved you.”

“What?” You pull back.

“I didn’t.” Steve quickly denies, shaking his head.

“What are you talking about?” Eddie shakes his head. “You absolutely did.”

“No, I-”

“Could everyone give Steve and I a minute please?”

Everyone’s eyes dart to you. “You’re not gonna kill him are you? We just literally survived this whole thing.” Eddie shakes his head.

“No, I’m not. Now please, give me a minute alone with Steve.” They nod, making their way towards the trailer.

“Look, I’m sorry about mouth to mouth. I had too, you were-"

“Steve,” You cut him off. “It’s fine. I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?”

“Why would I be mad about you saving me?”

“Because you. . . hate me?”

You let out a small sigh, shaking your head. “I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?”

“I did,” You say. “But not anymore.”

He smiles a bit, pushing some of the strands of hair that had fallen back to your face. “I’m glad.”

You stare up at him quietly, moving to your knees in front of him. He gulps slightly.

You press a small kiss to the corner of his mouth, hands moving up to cup his face. “Thanks for saving me.”

His own hands press to yours on his cheeks. “Anytime.”

You grin and lean in again, pressing your lips fully to his this time. He gladly allows you.

Robin grins as she peeks through the window with Dustin.

She leans closer. “Told you.” She whispers.

Dustin makes a face and looks over at her. “Told me what?”

“Pride and Prejudice, my tiny friend.”

【𝜗𝜚 thank you for reading! comments, feedback, likes, & reblogs are encouraged, welcomed, & deeply appreciated!ও

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #joe keery x reader

[taintedcigs]

✦ SOMETHING LIKE THIS | eddie m. x reader ✦

wc: 6.3k+

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader

warnings: nothing rlly, partying, drinking, kissing, fluffy fluff, angsty if u squint!, high mention?, drinking games!!, truth or dare bc im such a cliche <3

summary: a truth or dare game with eddie reveals some truths between the two of you.

authors note: omg i feel like i haven't posted in forever and this so LONGG and if u can guess which show i was heavily inspired by when i wrote the closet scene i will give u thousand of kisses. as usual i kinda hate this and the ending but this took forever to write and idk i just love friends to lovers eddie SOO MUCH. this is proofread but i only read it once so pls ignore any mistakes !! also if u guys enjoyed this pls LEAVE FEEDBACK, come talk to me in asks, requests r open!! ily all sm, mwah, em!

You scoffed as you made your way past the drunken slimy bodies, pushing everyone out of the way until you finally made it into the kitchen, having no idea how Steve had managed to throw a bash this crowded and your head was spinning too much to care now.

Stumbling a bit your feet picked you up toward the drink stand, shaking the empty bottles, you sighed. "Really? All of them?" you huffed annoyed as you turned around, spotting Robin with a bottle in her hand, you smirked.

"Robin! You are my hero." You giggled as you approached her, grabbing the bottle despite her protests as you chugged a huge sip, your face contorting at the taste.

"Jesus, slow down! You're going to get black out drunk again and then complain all day tomorrow." Nancy came up behind Robin as she scoffed, this is what you had been doing all week, and Nancy was starting to get worried but you rolled your eyes at her, while Robin gave her a 'don't say that' look.

"C'mon Nance, let her be. She's got enough on her plate as it is!" Robin made a suggestive look as you took another sip, turning to face her.

Nancy pursed her lips as she shrugged. "And what does that mean?" You asked, knitting your brows together. Robin pointed towards Eddie, and your eyes followed.

He was chugging the beer he had a firm grip on, face contorting as he took more and more sips, your heart dropped to your stomach at the sight, you knew he would be here, yet you couldn't help the tingles that overtook your body when you saw him.

You were so stupid.

"I don't know what you mean." You shrugged your shoulders, lying through your teeth, Eddie had been sort of avoiding you for some time, and now, for a whole week, he was acting as if you didn't exist.

You didn't know why or how, but it was eating away at you.

Spending your days drinking and smoking away your feelings had become a regular habit ever since he had started avoiding you, and Nancy and Robin had started to get worried about your current coping mechanism.

To say you were feeling hurt would be an understatement, you and Eddie were supposed to be friends, best friends even, in the last four years, you had grown close to him, so close that being away from him even for a second hurt.

And now this distance, his cold attitude, not returning any of your calls, and eventually pretending as if you didn't exist, was eating at you, your own insecurities were bubbling up at the surface.

What was so wrong with you that Eddie couldn't even tell it to your face?

"I mean, it is weird, I've never seen the two of you apart for an hour, let alone a week." Robin spoke up, mentally cursing herself for not being able to stop blabbering and Nancy gave her a look, one that meant, 'not the fucking time' and you narrowed your eyes, hurt twinging in your chest.

"Shutting up now?" Robin asked awkwardly, shrugging her shoulders in defense, "I hope." You replied, trying to hide the hurt in your tone.

Your eyes searched for Eddie again, he was now conversing with Argyle and Jonathan, he looked uncomfortable, he could feel your gaze on him and he was doing everything in his willpower to not meet your disappointed eyes, he knew he would soften up the second he saw you.

"I think I have a plan." Nancy muttered to Robin behind you as they quickly left your side, you were too busy to notice anything as you leaned on the wall chugging the bottle again, face feeling numb.

You meant to talk to him, ask him why he was avoiding you, but you were afraid of his answer, what if Eddie didn't want to be your friend anymore?

What if Eddie was going to tell you how much he started hating you and that he never wanted to see your face again?

You would much prefer the distance rather than be shunned by him. You doubted you could handle anything without him by your side.

You knew what you felt for him was far beyond friendship now, but you never could fully admit to it.

For months, Nancy and Robin had been trying to get you to admit to it, but you had always refused, saying the two of you were 'just friends.'

But you knew, and they knew that people who were 'just friends', didn't do what you two did, friends didn't have movie nights where they ended up cuddling each other and falling asleep in each other's arms, sometimes, Eddie would even place a kiss on your forehead when you fell asleep, tucking you in as a grin took over his lips, seeing how peaceful you were.

Friends didn't have dates in Eddie's van, seated in the back as the both of you ashed a joint, wasting away the night before you watched the sunset with him, his childish grin as he told you all of his stupid jokes feeling like a kick in your stomach now.

And you knew, you knew, friends didn't look at each other the same way both of you looked at one another.

So, you were nervous, nervous that you had fucked up the only good thing in your life, nervous of what he might say to you.

But this apparent nervousness was nowhere to be seen when you had drunk this much. Before you knew it, you found your two feet dragging you to his side, unable to take control of yourself, the drunk you had decided that you had enough.

You slid past the drunk bodies standing in the way of Eddie, your fingertips anxiously fiddling with the bottle, you could barely balance yourself, smushing yourself against the wall near him.

"Hi." You intended for your voice to come out soft but your words were slurred, and Eddie almost stilled when he heard it.

His heart was thudding inside of his chest, he knew you would be at Steve's party, but he never thought you would actually talk to him, not when he had been a complete asshole to you for a while now.

His gaze was avoidant, almost as avoidant as he was and your stomach was churning again, and this time it was not the alcohol.

It was all him.

"Hey." His greeting was short, your mouth had dried up, and the drunk version of you didn't have the tolerance you had for the past week.

Your eyes narrowed as you straightened yourself. "Hey? Is that all you have to fucking say?" You almost snapped, you hadn't meant to sound so sharp, the words left your mouth like word vomit, it probably wasn't fair how you spat them at him, but his coldness to you wasn't fair, either.

You knew once you brought the subject to him there was no turning back, you were afraid of the possibility of him never talking to you again but the liquid in your system gave you enough courage to do what you feared, ripping the band-aid off, and you thought maybe, maybe, ending the friendship would cause you less pain than whatever he was supposed to be doing.

"Hello?" He attempted to joke, and if you weren't this stupidly smitten over him, and maybe a bit buzzed, it wouldn't have worked, but it did. All it took for him to soften you up was a stupid joke, causing you to giggle drunkenly, as you leaned into the wall again.

"Really?" You shook your head, "That's the best you got?" You tilted your head to the side, giving him a warm smile, you couldn't help it, it was the most you had talked with him this week, and you were already putty in his hands, you hated him, and you hated the effect he had on you.

He shrugged, it was obvious he felt more comfortable, his eyes not leaving yours. "Made you laugh, didn't I?" you nodded, you didn't mean to get this soft on him this quickly, but you couldn't help it, not when he made you feel at ease this easily.

You hated and loved how everything with Eddie made you feel at ease, feeling safe with him like you could bring your guard down for once.

You huffed, mind more mellow as you eyed him. "Missed this, ya know?" Your words were slurred again, you knew it wasn't the alcohol talking, but at the same time without it, you never would have had the courage.

Eddie's eyes were glossy and riddled with remorse as they gazed into yours, you could sense it, sense that he was feeling guilty, you bit the inside of your cheek when he looked at you like that.

"What?" He asked, dumbfounded.

"Missed this-" you pointed between the two of you, "Just missed being with y-you." You couldn't help it when your words were tangled with each other again, it made you scared to admit any of this, while Eddie just gave you a sigh.

"You're drunk?" He questioned. "Again?" If you didn't know how Eddie had been treating you the past week you'd think he was worried about you, considerate even, but the way his actions changed made you doubt his sincerity.

Eddie had been aware of your new coping mechanism, his mouth felt dry when Steve told him how badly you had been taking Eddie's new demeanor.

"Mhm." You hummed, signaling to the bottle as you attempted to chug it again but Eddie shook his head, quickly taking it away from your hands. You gasped as you straightened yourself. "Rude."

"You will get shit faced and have the worst hangover, and I'm sure you'll curse us out for letting you drink that much." He raised his brows to warn you and you pouted at him like a child.

"You sound just like Nancy." You scoffed, biting back the insult you had at the tip of your tongue about how he decided to care about you now, instead settling on making him chuckle, and just with his laugh, you felt a tinge of pride swell in your chest, it was pathetic how desperate you were for him.

"No fun, I'm crossing you out." You whined as you draw an 'X' in the air, with pouty lips and soft eyes, Eddie had a foolish grin on his face when he was comfortable with you again, almost at peace with how your soul embraced his.

He felt like an asshole, and so fucking stupid for the way he acted, but it was the only thing he knew how to do: running away from his feelings.

"Come on, where the hell have you guys been, we've got some drinking games going on!" You were startled by Robin's loud voice, and as turning to face her, you heard Eddie's groans behind you.

"No way." Eddie shook his head and you threw him a puzzled look.

"No?" You furrowed your brows. "But, you love drinking games."

"Yeah, you love drinking games. Don't be a buzzkill, Munson." Robin interrupted, she shot a look at Eddie that made him confused but intrigued, and he couldn't say no when the two of you dragged him to where everyone else was gathered.

You sat down next to him and felt your hazy drunken state get worse, it was as if everything was becoming all too real.

Realizing that the conversation you just had with him meant nothing, not after he had been avoiding you for a week, and now your mind was swirled with the thoughts of what was going to happen when you two finally had 'the talk', anxiety riddling over your body again.

"What game are we playing?" You asked in an attempt to shake off your thoughts, it didn't help when Eddie's gaze landed on you and you could feel your cheeks burning with his gaze alone, causing you to chew on your bottom lip out of nervousness.

"We just played endless rounds of 'Never Have I Ever'" Nancy sighed, almost annoyed.

"Turns out Steve the King is bit of a slut." Robin semi-whispered as Steve gasped, holding his heart to be dramatic.

"Really, Robin?" He furrowed his brows. "Well, it's not my fault you hooked up with the half of—" Robin was interrupted by Eddie's groan.

"C'mon you guys let's just play whatever this is and get on with it." His voice sounded annoyed, you turned to face him, but Eddie was already avoiding your gaze again, he looked nervous, and you wanted to roll your eyes, he was being an asshole, again.

You could feel anger bubbling up inside of your chest, and Robin could feel the tension in the air. "Okayy, truth or dare it is!" Robin interrupted with a nervous giggle.

"I thought we were playing Never Have I Ever-" You were shut up by Robin's shushes.

"Yes and now we switched to Truth or Dare, keep up, sweetheart." You furrowed your brows and giggled, turning to Steve as if to ask what was wrong with Robin, but Steve put his hands up in defense, shrugging.

Something weird was going on and you couldn't put a finger on it, and to be honest, your mind was too fuzzy to figure any of it out, filled both with alcohol and the thoughts of Eddie. Robin grabbed the bottle and spun it around the circle, the anticipation of it made her fiddle in her place, and when it landed on Steve, she groaned.

"Steve! I think you should pick truth, are you a virgin? Oh wait, you are not! Let me spin it again." Robin talked so fast that even Eddie threw her a look, you were usually used to her fast-paced actions but she was giving you a whiplash now.

"Robin, what the hell are you—" Eddie's words were cut short by Robin's shriek.

"Wow! It landed on Eddie, what a surprise." Robin rubbed her hands together almost like a villain in a cartoon.

"So, truth or dare, Eddie? Oh, also you can't say truth because Steve just picked that." Robin hit her hand against her forehead in a fake manner, and you giggled again at her actions, unaware of what was coming next.

"Okaa...ay, dare?" Eddie asked unsurely, and Robin mimicked a thinking face, you had no idea what was coming next, but you doubted anything Robin would dare him to do could fix whatever was going on with Eddie.

"I dare you to..." She paused for a minute.

"Go into that closet and not come out until you and Y/N make out." Robin's words were like a slap on your face, and she had that stupid grin on her face that you wanted to wipe off.

"Excuse me?" The two of you said in unison and you were afraid to look at him now.

"I mean... a dare is a dare." Steve shrugged, and Robin nodded quickly causing you to sigh.

"You are a child, Robin." You threw her a death stare, your mind was still hazy as you began to get up, and Eddie was still where he was sitting, he twisted his rings, an action you knew he did when he was nervous.

"Well, are you just going to wait around all day?" You snapped, not knowing what came over you when you were this drunk.

"You're okay with this?" Eddie's face was almost red as he looked up at you, hating the way a nervous tingle formed in your stomach with how he looked at you.

"It's just a d—dare, let's get it over with." You meant to sound confident but your words came out as a murmur.

"This is so stupid." He scoffed as he followed you into the closet, Robin following up behind the two of you. She locked the door when the two of you entered and she sent you a smirk before she did so, making you scoff.

"I swear I'm going to kill her." You said sharply, turning your back on the door.

When you finally faced Eddie you realized how close he was standing to your face, his tall figure towering over you was enough to make your breath hitch.

"Hi." was all he muttered as he looked down on you, making you realize how much you missed the warmth of his soft gaze and you hated yourself for how enamored you were with him.

"Hi." You managed to let out when you caught your breath, the room felt suffocating, and you could barely swallow the lump in your throat.

The possibility of him kissing you made you want to scream, both from excitement and fear.

"So... we have to kiss?" He said awkwardly, scratching his head, almost as if it were a question and you nodded quickly, knowing he was too nervous to make the first move so you had to take matters into your own hands.

"What's the big deal? It's just a kiss. We've been best friends for years, we can do it." You said, with a nonchalant tone, but the hint of nervousness was still visible.

"Let's just do it!" You announced excitedly, "kiss me, Edward Munson!" Eddie chuckled at that, making you realize how much you had missed that genuine laugh.

"Edward..." He tilted his head, "Really?" He raised a brow, causing you to pout.

"Yeah." You giggled softly, offering him a smile, knowing how much he hated someone saying his full name, he gave you a light chuckle.

“Okay, yeah, I think I deserved that." He attempted to joke, the air still tense but filled with your giggles.

"Let's do this...” Eddie added cooly, his hands at his side as he leaned towards you, licking his lips.

“Why are you licking your lips?” You questioned, making Eddie chuckle, as he stopped leaning in further.

"Should I not?" He raised a brow, "I mean do you want dry lips?” He asked sarcastically and you shook your head chuckling.

"No, no!" You protested, face burning from embarrassment. "Never mind..." You chuckled.

“I didn’t think it was—” Eddie started but you interrupted, “No.. no it’s okay.. I just..” You were a stuttering mess now.

"Let’s do it.. I—I’m ready.” His tone was soft when he spoke, he was less nervous and you nodded frantically.

You started leaning in but then abruptly stopped, making Eddie furrow his brows.

“Do you want tongue? Are you like a tonguer?” You asked, your face was serious and Eddie's eyes widened.

“Am I a what?” Eddie asked baffled as you chuckled, shaking your head.

"Fuck..." You cursed, giggles errupting in your throat from nervousness. "I didn't mean it like that, I just meant—" You were babbling, your heart hammering inside of your chest.

"I mean do you like tongue in kissing? I just— I wouldn’t wanna use tongue if you don’t want to..." You trailed off.

“Let’s just do it!” Eddie exclaimed interrupting as you let out another giggle, your nerves were getting the best of you.

“Yes, sorry. Are you ready?” You asked, weight of anticipation settling heavily in your chest as Eddie nodded, “Yes.. I’m ready.. let’s just do this..” Eddie let out slowly, scratching his head from nervousness as you nodded once again.

You barely moved when he leaned towards you, almost frozen in place you stared at him, stared at the sickly sweet brown of his eyes, stared at his dark hair that messily laid on his forehead, and you couldn't help it when your eyes lowered down to gaze at his lips, adoring the curve of his mouth.

Your gaze was stuck on him in a way that made your eyes glimmer with an array of emotions, not knowing if this would be your first and last kiss with him, trying your best to etch this sight of him into your mind forever, unsure of whether you could ever see him up this close again.

and as if Eddie could read your mind, he realized, he realized the weight of how you were staring at him. With more he studied your face, the connection between the two of you deepened, unraveling what he most wanted. You.

“Fuck— You.. you can’t do that!” He exclaimed, desperately, and you knitted your brows in confusion, “What... what did I do?” Eddie was being ridiculous now.

"Jesus Christ, you can't just do that to me." His face was burning up, he thought maybe, that this dare would be good for him, maybe the best way to get over his feelings was to kiss you for once, but the way your eyes glimmered was enough to make him want to stare at you forever, and he couldn't do that when he was trying to keep his feelings for you bottled up, forever.

Now, he was regretting the dare as he could feel the pressure building and you looked so pretty that Eddie felt his heart sink in his body, if he kissed you, he knew he couldn't contain his feelings for you no longer, he sighed, shaking his head.

“You can't do that thing with your eyes and face!” He exclaimed as you scoffed, “What the hell are you talking about?” You almost yelled, getting frustrated by his stand-offish attitude.

“Okay that’s it.. I— I can’t do it!” He huffed as he reached for the doorknob, struggling with it.

“Let me out guys!” Eddie yelled but Robin just chuckled, “You have to kiss her, you idiot!”

“Let me out of here, Robin!” He yelled louder this time, but instead of Robin answering this time Steve, Nancy, Argyle, Jonathan, and the gathered crowd answered to him, chanting “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” and Eddie rolled his eyes, cursing.

“Oh come on Eddie, let’s just do this! Just one kiss!” You said annoyed, and you felt a bit rejected at how much he wanted to leave.

Eddie turned around to meet your gaze, “No, I’m not gonna fucking kiss you.” His words were bitter and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from crying in front of him.

“Eddie we've been best friends for four years! A little kiss isn’t gonna change anything.” The words that left your mouth stung him, it wasn't easy on you but the emphasis on the two of you being best friends and how a kiss wouldn't change a thing between the two of you was the exact reason he was avoiding you.

Eddie knew if you had rejected him, and told him that you didn't reciprocate his feelings, it would eventually lead to the two of you not being friends.

And he couldn't handle that idea, he couldn't handle not being around you. That's why he tried to stay away from you, just so he could contain his feelings for you, at least for a while.

His gaze on you was agonizing, “Stop looking at me like that.” He muttered as you rolled your eyes, and crossed your arms around your chest, annoyed.

“God, will you just kiss me already!” You blurted out, now getting annoyed with him, not being able to comprehend why Eddie was making such a big deal out of this when it was just supposed to be a dare.

"No."

“Why not?” You questioned, eager to know why he had been acting this way, Eddie ran his hands across his hair, ruffling it before he gripped your shoulders to get your attention fully, “Because..." He took a deep breath as he put his trembling hands into his back pockets, he was trying to hold himself back, but he couldn't, not when you looked at him that way.

"Because I don't want to kiss you like this!” He almost snapped, his feelings taking over before his logic could, and you went rigid with his words.

His own reaction was delayed as his eyes widened at his own words, and he was standing close to you, so close, that your breath hitched when he said that. “What.. what does that mean?”  Your head was spinning as Eddie looked down, almost as if he was embarrassed.

“Nothing! I didn’t— I just... That’s not what I fucking meant..” Eddie stuttered over his words, he felt like his desperation had trickled into the very air he was breathing in, his own words suffocating him and your gaze mocking him, he couldn't handle it further as people outside the closet started chanting “Kiss! Kiss!” again.

Eddie scoffed again, “Shit— just, excuse me..” He cursed out as he tried the doorknob again.

“What are you doing?” You asked curiously, you wanted to talk to him now.

“Just need some air” He murmured and tried the door again.

“Robin, just open up!” Eddie yelled out making Robin groan, “Did you kiss her?” Eddie rolled his eyes, and he got ready to curse Robin out but you placed your hands over his mouth, shushing him.

“Yes, yes Robin! We fucking did, we even french kissed! You happy?” You yelled out as Robin giddily chuckled unlocking the door.

You threw her a dead stare as Eddie just brushed past her, hurrying his way out and you followed quickly behind him.

"Eddie, just wait!" You called out after him, you were curious to know what he meant, why he was acting this way, none of it was making sense to you and you were still very buzzed.

"Just leave me the fuck alone, Y/N." He didn't even turn around to face you and it hurt.

"No! I'm not going to fucking run away this time." You yelled, catching up to him, and Eddie turned around swiftly.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, his tone curious and not annoyed like before.

"I'm not playing your stupid game anymore, I don't care if you tell me you hate me, Eddie, just tell me what's wrong, tell me what I did to make you push me away this much. You can insult me and tell me to 'fucking leave' but I won't leave until you tell me to my face what I did to make you push me away, you fucking coward!" You spat out the words, rolling your shoulders as you felt your anger coming out to the surface.

Eddie rubbed his hands against his face, you were asking for him to be vulnerable, and he knew that if he opened up to you, you would probably laugh in his face.

"I just—" He scoffed, "I don't wanna do this. Not right now." He sighed, and he drooped his head, his gaze fixated on the ground now.

"Just tell me what the fuck is wrong, Eddie." You almost yelled, feeling your face hot with anger. "What did you mean by when you said you didn't want to kiss me like this?"

"And why have you been avoiding me, why can't you even look me in the fucking eye right now?" To say you were frustrated would be an understatement, liquid courage had worked a little too well and you were pouring your gut out to him.

You crossed your arms against your chest, feeling your cheeks burning up with anger, you were filled with fury, and nothing Eddie could do was going to change that.

In fact, it made it worse when he kept avoiding his gaze. "Fuck you." You spat out, index finger pointed towards him, hostility written all over your face, your feet picked you up before your mind realized, and you brushed past him as you angrily left his side.

"Just— fucking wait!" His words rang in your ears but you didn't care, you kept walking while Eddie was right behind you.

"Let me just explain!" He yelled out after you. "Jesus— you're fucking fast." He added as he tried to catch up to you.

You stopped in your tracks, and your back was turned to him. "Eddie, just get it over with." You crossed your arms against your chest again, feeling your insides twist as you waited for him to pull the band-aid off.

"What?" He raised his brows in confusion, and you didn't dare to look at him.

"You realized it, didn't you? I mean it took me a while to realize it myself." Your voice was timid, not trusting yourself enough that you wouldn't break down completely in front of him.

"And you realized you didn't reciprocate them, and you're trying to let me off easy by avoiding me." You could feel tears prickling your eyes but you shook your head to make them go away.

"I know you hate confrontation." Your voice was cracking now, and Eddie hated it, he hated being the reason you were about to cry, he hated being the reason you doubted yourself because of him.

"What are you talking about? Reciprocating what?" He didn't dare to turn you to face him, he was still shocked at the possibility of what you were hinting at.

"Feelings, Eddie. My fucking feelings for you!" You turned around to face him now, and his eyes had softened, he blinked slowly to process what you were saying. The air between the two of you was filled with unspoken emotions, your body ridden with anticipation and anxiety.

But Eddie felt stupid, so fucking stupid. He spent this whole week bottling up his feelings for you, and avoiding you to do so because he thought he wasn't good enough for you, he thought you would actually mock him.

He should've known you would never do that, he should've told the insecure voice in his head to shut the fuck up.

Because there you were in front of him, saying exactly what he was feeling, and he felt like the biggest idiot in the world.

"Your... what?" His eyebrows furrowed, and he wanted to laugh, he wanted to laugh at how stupid he was being.

"Just— let's just pretend this never happened." You could barely look at him, nervously fiddling with your fingers.

"Nope." He shook his head.

There was no fucking way he would pretend this had never happened, he had been waiting, for years to tell you how he felt, every night he would give himself a pep talk, encouraging himself to finally open up to you, but when he finally saw you in the morning, and you gave him that warm smile and those doe-eyes, he always backed out, scared of losing you forever.

"No fucking way." He shook his head, and a chuckle escaped his lips.

The look you threw him was filled with disdain, "Oh, so this is funny to you?" You were quick to judge him, turning around and muttering curse words as your feet began to pick up again.

"Jesus Christ, will you let me speak!" He yelled out again and you shook your head, walking faster. Eddie scoffed, "So. Fucking. Stubborn." He muttered under his breath.

He caught up to you once again and this time he reached out to your free hand, and he grabbed it in a tight firm, spinning you around to face him, you were about to cuss him out again, and throw him a death glare, but his gaze was so gentle that you couldn't help it, your eyes were mellow, sickly sweet, as they met his.

Your heart reacted before you could, thumping in your chest. Eddie was leaning so close towards you that you sensed his heavy breathing against your face, you didn't dare to move, not until his tender fingertips brushed against your cheeks, he leaned over so agonizingly slow that you couldn't help but close the gap between the two of you, soft lips clashing with each other as you whimpered the second your mouth met his.

Eddie's chest fizzled with warmness, the smell of your perfume mixed with alcohol dizzying him while your head was still pounding as you were trying to process what was happening, there wasn't enough air in the world for your lungs to pull in.

You deepened the kiss when Eddie's hands slowly cupped your cheeks, parting your lips as his tongue explored yours, shuddering at his touch.

Your brain didn't process any of it, not until the initial shock wore off, that's when you pulled back slightly, catching your breath as you blinked confusedly at him, unable to find the words to speak.

Eddie licked his lips as they twitched to form a smile, speaking up before you could. “In the closet.. when. I said I didn’t wanna kiss you like that... I meant that I wanted something like this..”  He gave you a slight chuckle as you returned it with a warm smile.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted." He gulped, feeling guilty for his actions in the past weeks, but he always poorly reacted to things that involved his feelings.

"I thought if I just stayed away from you, if I just pushed you away for a while, I could bottle up my feelings for you and—"

"You have feelings for me?" You asked, interrupting, eyes widening despite the kiss being undeniable proof of that but you still couldn't believe it, you still couldn't believe that the man you had been in love with was actually reciprocating the feelings you harbored, the feelings you tried so hard to contain inside of you.

"Are you kidding? Of course, I do." Eddie affirmed. "I mean how could I not?" He chuckled, pointing towards you. "Jesus, you're so beautiful, so fucking pretty..." he flashed you a mischievous smile.

"You're nice, and god, so fucking kind that it makes me sick sometimes. And shit— you get along with Wayne so well, I think he thinks of you more as his kid than me at this point." You gave him a light chuckle.

"Also... you are funny sometimes too." He added, giving you a light nudge with his shoulder as you pointed towards yourself mouthing 'Little old me?' sarcastically, making him smile.

"Fuck— if it wasn't for you, I'd be so lost, sweetheart. I'm so glad you came into my life." Your heart warmed at his words, gaze softening as your lips twitched into a smile.

"And you're always fucking there for me... even when I don't deserve it." He nervously fiddled with his fingers, he didn't deserve someone as perfect as you.

"Like right now, even though I've been an asshole, avoiding you, and even more of an asshole in the closet, you still came after me." He looked down, embarrassed that he had pushed you away, he knew you deserved better, so much better.

"You didn't deserve any of it, you just deserve every fucking good thing there is, and I'm just none of those things." You shook your head, opening your mouth to speak but Eddie didn't let you.

"Can you even picture it? You and me together? You— god, you are so fucking perfect." Your heart pounded against your chest, the rhythm of it erratic and suffocating because of his painful words, if only he knew how much you loved him.

"I'm just me, Eddie. I'm fucked up, a 'freak', a fucking drug dealer." Deep lines etched his forehead, he chuckled bitterly, and your heart throbbed at him describing himself as anything but good.

"I guess I just decided I wasn't good enough for you. Fuck— I chickened out." He eyed you nervously, and what he didn't expect was you slapping him on the shoulder, harshly.

"Ow!" He yelped, "Eddie never, ever make decisions on my part ever again." You chided him and he nodded quickly, "Jesus, that hurt."

"Good, because I also don't allow you to speak that way about yourself either, you're the best thing that has ever happened to me Eddie and I mean it. You're not fucked up." You affirmed him.

"God, you really are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Eddie. I don't think I've ever been happier, or more comfortable with anyone but you, you helped me realize so much about myself and have been there with me through everything." You didn't blink once, and Eddie's mouth was agape, he couldn't believe that someone —and not just anyone, you— saw him as anything more than a fuck up.

"I love you, Eddie, and I mean it, I love you so fucking much." You added, your eyes glimmering. "I can't stop thinking about you, ever... and it physically hurt being away from you for just one fucking week."

"I'm sorry for that..." He muttered again, embarrassed. "I love you so fucking much, honey. And I promise I'll never do something as dumb as this again." He gave you a warm smile, and his fingertips were gentle as they grazed over your cheeks.

You tilted your head in hesitation, "Yeah, I doubt it." You giggled, and Eddie squished your cheeks in response.

"God, you're so lucky that you're so pretty and so lucky that I fucked up big time because I will agree with you on whatever you say for the next few days." Eddie's lips formed a smirk and you raised a brow, "I'm thinking for the next month." You pursed your lips sarcastically.

Eddie chuckled and leaned in once again to kiss you, "Whatever my pretty girl wants." He murmured into your lips.

You whimpered again when your lips touched, both of you groaned when you were interrupted by Nancy's voice.

"See, I told you it would work!" Nancy pointed towards to two of you kissing as Robin and Steve almost gasped.

Robin turned to Nancy crossing her arms against her chest all-knowingly, "Yeah but it wasn't working a minute ago when they were yelling at each oth-" Robin's words were cut short by the glare Eddie and you threw at Robin.

"Sorry!" She yelled out, giving a sheepish smile, making you laugh.

"So, this was all you?" You asked, pointing towards Nancy, but before she could answer Robin scoffed.

"As if I didn't put your stubborn asses in that closet!" She mocked. The puzzle pieces of Robin acting weird all night coming to you and Eddie at the same time.

"You guys are all idiots." Eddie huffed, but his smile never faltered, and the three of them knew that was his way of gratitude.

You turned towards them with a sheepish smile on your face mouthing a 'thank you' to Robin and Nancy, and giving Steve a thumbs up, they waved you off as if to say 'No problem', and you turned to Eddie again.

"Eventful night, huh?" He asked, a smirk playing on his lips, and you gave him a playful nudge. "Shut up."

"So... you ready to go home?" Eddie asked as he threw an arm around your shoulder, you nodded, melting into his comfortable hold.

"Mhmm." You hummed, as he pressed a kiss on your hair. "I love you, pretty girl." He murmured.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fics #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #friends to lovers

[non-stop-imagines]

Valentine

Pairing: Lando Norris x Hamilton!Reader

Summary: In which Lando falls hard and you don't know what to do.

Word Count: ~7.2k words and a lot of smau

Warning: Twitter environment, mentions of an unnamed horrible ex-boyfriend, a little angsty if you squint, crying, proposal, Lewis being the cool older brother

A/N: I did not expect this to be so long. It didn't feel like it was when I was writing it but I guess it got carried away. This was a lot of work to write but I think I caught the vibe of the song. Sorry about any terrible editing I fell asleep multiple times while reading through it because work has been kicking my butt a little, but we Gucci 😎. Anyway, hope you all enjoy! Also I have been LOVING the interaction I keep getting from you all keep it coming! I love talking to people that share my indulgent interests. Love you all!!💖💛💖💛💖

A/N 2: All of the pictures used for the smau portions are all from pinterest and are not my own product.

Masterlist

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ynhamilton

Liked by georgerussell and 200,289 others

ynhamilton It's Home Race weekend for this bundle of joy 😘 (Not very happy I'm being FORCED to attend)

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dahamiltons Yn's first post in half a year and it's basically saying that her brother is holding her hostage at Silverstone...we love sibling relationships

lewishamilton Shut up, you still get to look at the cars

>ynhamilton That is the ONLY reason I'm going

Silverstone, British GP, Media Day

   "I don't know why you insisted that I come today. Media days are so boring." You grumble, scrolling on your phone. You look up briefly to look out the window, watching the green roll by and getting a glimpse of the clouds rolling in.

   "Can't the fact that I love my sister and want to spend time with her while we're in the same country be enough of an explanation?" Lewis side hugs you from the adjacent seat and presses a long kiss to your hairline.

   "I wish it was. I gotta prepare for the next term." You whine as you try and duck from your brother's hands messing with your hair.

   "You just started your Summer holiday. Give Oxford sometime to miss you." He starts to reach over to pluck your phone from your hands but you slap them away, giving him a threatening look once he pulls back.

   "I will not hesitate to push you out of this car." You were an expert at making your threats to your sibling sound real, but Lewis was used to it, so all he did was chuckle and settle back into his seat.

   "Always so damn mean." You smile a bit when he reaches over again to poke at your cheek, the response Lewis desired in order to truly stop messing with you. In all actuality, he has been worried about you for nearly the past year, after a bad break up you had with your boyfriend of 2, almost 3, years. It was a teenage romance ruined by the dangers of long-distance and 20-year-old-guy-in-university stupidity. You seemed lost for quite awhile and with being away most of the time, Lewis felt helpless when it came to making you feel better. Lucky for him school has kept you busy, but now that seems to be biting him in the butt.

   The rest of the ride to track was mostly quiet in terms of conversation, sans the occasional random thought, but quiet music streamed through the car speakers to fill the sound void.

   It's been quite a while, years actually, since you've last been to a race with your brother, so you had to get over the initial shock of cameras, voices shouting, and pens being shoved in your general vicinity, all while keeping up with the quick pace of Lewis' stride. The crowd thinned out somewhat the closer you got to the Mercedes motorhome, and you were able to handle the level of attention you and your brother were receiving. Enough to be able to smile at and briefly greet fans that come near you guys. What you weren't aware of in doing so was that these actions would catch someone's eye from across the paddock.

_________

   He didn't hear the question. Every word spoken to him was muted when he saw you smile from across the crowded paddock. He'll never know what told him to look up and into the crowd of people surrounding you and Lewis. How did you know Lewis? Were you his girlfriend? No, that can't be it, that wasn't the vibe between you two as you walked into the Mercedes motorhome, this action clicking him back to reality, having to ask the fan on the Awabot to repeat their question.

   You were on his mind all day, and he's only seen you once. Your wild hair, fluffy and surrounding your head like a cloud. Your mysterious eyes smiling at the people around you. Your lips. Beautiful, full, glossed lips that he was completely unable to pull his gaze from, turned up in an inviting grin and showing unadulterated joy greeting those around you. He was prepared for this to be his only sighting of you for the rest of his life, but then he saw you leaving. Again, in tow of Lewis. Who were you?

Silverstone, British GP, Practice Day 1

   "Okay, so what do you expect me to do while you're out driving? Dad's not coming out until tomorrow, so I'll just be alone." There was that scowl back on your face as you complained to your brother while you guys waited for someone to signal that you could open the door.

   "You won't be alone. You'll be in the garage. You'll probably be too interested in the mechanical stuff to notice I'm gone. And if you do, just harass Mick." It's finally signaled the you guys can exit the car, and you do to more flashes, more memorabilia, and this time more "oooh's" and "ahh's" to Lewis' outfit. You guys make it over to the Mercedes motorhome at a brisk pace, you smiling and waving while Lewis starts trying to get in his zone. This time, though was different than yesterday, because before entering the motorhome, you met eyes with someone from across the paddock, eyes that smiled at you, to which you responded with your own smiling eyes before going inside.

__________

   "Hey, Lando!" Lando looked up from his phone to Lewis' voice coming from no distinct direction, so it took him a moment to locate him. Once he did, though, he didn't know if his heart stopped or sped up as he felt his chest tighten and his body run cold. There you were, following awkwardly behind the driver, the goddess from across the paddock, the one who smiled at him today, nearly scrambling his brain. You were finally here, in front of him.

   "Hey, what's up?" He tried to play it cool, grinning at you as if he just noticed your presence. He urged his eyes to stay focused on Lewis, but couldn't stop himself from taking small glances at you, focusing on something different every time. Of course your eyes, which he now sees are a dark chocolatey brown. Your lips, which he knew were glossed but now he can see that the gloss was tinted pink and shimmered in the late day sunlight. Your hair, which was pulled back in a low puff today instead of out and reaching toward the sky. Something less obvious that caught his eye was your clothing, more specifically the plainess, the baggy Ayrton Senna shirt and equally baggy khaki pants. It was your shoes that turned it around though, custom Nike Air Forces the color of the Brazilian flag, matching the design on your white shirt.

   "That McLaren looked fast today, man" They share a basic universal handshake as Lando turns his attention back to Lewis, smiling at him.

   "Thanks, but you know, I'm only driving it." They both politely chuckle, then one last cut of Lando's eyes prompts Lewis to finally introduce you to him.

   "This is my sister, mate." Lewis says with a laughing smile and a thumb pointed toward you.

   "Sister?" Lando was genuinely shocked. He has been watching Lewis since he was a kid, how did he not know Lewis had a sister?

   "It's okay. It's not like I go around expecting people to know who I am." You wave off his question and hold out your hand. "Yn"

   "Pretty name." Once the words were out his mouth he wished that talking was like texting or emailing where you're able to read what you're going to say over and over before sending it. It must have been hearing your voice for the first time, the smooth tone music to his ears, mushing his brain and letting anything come out his mouth. Luckily this was mild, he could have said the other thing he was thinking which was "Let's get married and have kids and live happily ever after on a farm somewhere."

   "Thank you. And Lewis was right, you really did do well today, compared to the start of the season." You flash a pitying smile, holding prolonged silent eye contact with him until you all heard Lewis' phone chime.

   "I have to head back to the motorhome real quick. Just stay right here. I'll be right back." Lewis motions his hand toward you in a "Stop" manner.

   "I'm not Roscoe. You can go." You tip your head in the direction Lewis needed to go, your scowl-like neutral face on again. Lewis just jokingly winces under your gaze, looks at both of you once more before jogging off.

   "I'll be right back." You both watched as he moved off in the needed direction, then turned back to each other once he was out of sight.

_______

   "So…" You weren't going to lie, you were simultaneously glad that Lewis had to go and urging your brother to stay put as you watched him jog off. So this singular word from Lando's mouth made you jump a bit as you came back to the present, in front of this boy that gives off a vibe you've never truly felt before. "Uhm…are you gonna be here tomorrow? For qualifying?" You guys were standing in front of the railing at the corner of the F1 Paddock building, so Lando guides you, as he speaks, further into the alley between the building and a the adjacent motorhome of which you did not pay attention to the team, positioning you guys so you were able to lean on the buildings.

   "Yeah. I'll actually want to be there tomorrow. These past couple of days have been a bit boring for me as a guest." You reach down and lift up the pass around your neck. "This was redemption for today. This garage pass." 

   "Yeah?" It was hard not to smile with Lando, especially with the way his eyes focused so intently on you as you spoke, like he was trying to communicate something telepathically that you can't seem to pick up on.

   "Yeah. What happens in the garage is the interesting stuff in my opinion." Your the only one that lets out a laugh, but you could see the amusement in Lando's face as he watches you, eyes not leaving you. "But you know, the driving is cool too."

   "Funny." His voice held the laughter that was hidden before. He shifts on his feet and ran a hand through his hair, the action sort of like bird grooming themself, frantic but still majestic in your eye. "So you didn't enjoy the past two days?"

   "Not exactly that I didn't enjoy it. I just had nothing to do, no one to talk to. Which gives my brain too much time to dwell on some of the things that have happened recently." You were picking stray debris from under your nail and moving your foot to feel the crunch of small rocks under your foot. There was something nagging in your brain, willing you to explain what was bothering you, and at some point that will got the best of you. "Do you mind if I vent a little?"

   "Not at all." Lando's face turned into one of concern, you could see that clearly. But what made this seem different, or rather all too familiar, was that the concern he showed was similar to that of Lewis’ concern towards you when you get too quiet, how his eyes squint, eyebrows scrunch and lips purposefully pull back in a neutral frown.

   “I had a pretty bad break up, just about a year ago,” You look down at your shoes, examining them for nothing. “I was not in a good place mentally. He cheated on me and admitted to me that he used me to go to races. He told me that to my face after I found him with another girl.” You pause for a moment, smiling at the ridiculousness of your next statement. "I study mechanical engineering at Oxford, and when I told him I wanted to do that and go into, like, car development for Formula 1, he said I should 'leave the car thing to my brother.'" You now lean your head back onto the building behind you. “But to some extent it was my fault too. He was so mean to me throughout that entire relationship. He was always somehow hesitant and gung-ho about letting people know I was his girlfriend. He wouldn’t really be affectionate, to the point where I convinced myself that I didn’t want it anyway. And this was early in us dating as well, so I should have saw the signs before it got to the point it did.”

   “Don’t blame yourself for that guy’s stupidity. How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” He had a hand placed on his hip as he waited for your response. You did not expect such emotion from a practical stranger as you talked about this. Even from people you considered your friend, they would criticize you. Why you stayed so long. Why you let him treat you like that.

   "21." You look up into his intense questioning stare.

   "And how long were you with this guy?" Lando's eyebrow raises a bit and you dip your head again, ready for ridicule.

   "Nearly 3 years. It was about to be 3 years." You were back to messing with your fingers.

   "I am so sorry that you had to deal with an immature fucking teenager, for that long." That response was… different. Definitely no what you were expecting.

   "Yeah, but I was young and thought that this boy liked me. Like, actually liked me. I was very wrong." You look back up at Lando, now comfortable to make eye contact again after receiving some bit of empathy for your situation. His facial expression was different now, more care, with a hint of what you felt was longing, but you didn't want to assume.

   "Well, his loss." The look shared between the two of you was soft, understanding and interrupted by your brother's voice.

   "Alright right, crisis averted. Let's go." When he reaches the two of you he puts his arm around your shoulders, picking at curly pieces of hair that seemed to have escaped your puff.

   "Was there really a crisis or are you being dramatic again?" You look toward Lewis, swatting his hand away from your hair.

   "Quiet, you." He bumps you with his elbow and then tips his head toward the Paddock entrance where there was a car waiting for you two. 

   "Well, I hope I get to see you tomorrow." Lando flashes a smile at you, finally giving you a visual of the small gap in his teeth.

   "Why don't I just give you my number? So we can make sure we see each other." You say this so nonchalantly that it caused Lando's eyes to noticeably widen.

   "Uh, o-okay." So numbers were exchanged, goodbyes were said and in a moment's time you and Lewis were in the back of the car leaving the paddock.

   "So what did you think of Lando?" Lewis asks you this without looking at you, instead focusing on something on his phone, which clued you in on an alternative motive to his question that you couldn't really place.

   "He was cool. I mean, I guess his vibe was okay enough for me to vent about…'He who will not be named'." You volley his nonchalant loaded question with an even better nonchalant loaded answer as you go to type something on your phone.

 "Really?" You hum and nod in reply, inadvertently ending the conversation between you two.

__________

 You grab your large tote bag filled with essentials for a day on a boat and prepare to board, but receive a tap on the shoulder before you do.

   "Lando's here." Lewis drapes his arm over your shoulders and tilts his head in the direction of the beginning of the dock where, as he said, Lando was greeting people.

   "Yeah, I know." You give a brief smile to your brother then continue to check that you had everything in your tote.

   "Why is he…?" You don't look at him, you just finish checking and shimmy your way out of Lewis' grip.

   "I asked him." You finally look up at your brother, face oblivious to anything Lewis tried to imply with his face. "If you get to bring friends I get to bring a friend." You give him a wide smile before heading towards Lando, greeting him enthusiastically then being pulled in a tight hug. Your back was to Lewis, so he was able to see the subtle way Lando brought his face close to your hair and took a cleansing breath, as if your presence was the oxygen he needed to breathe.

   "Sure, friends." The words were quiet to himself, and stayed still for a second longer to watch the hug and you two began to talk about something that held both of your attentions and made you both laugh.

_________

    It was getting to sunset as you and Lando rested on a portion of the boat with a perfect view of the sky. Lando was sitting up, leaning his back against the hull of the boat that protruded upwards, trying to regulate his breathing as you laid across his lap, you trying desperately not to stare at him. The day had been full of laughing, playing in the water, eating, deep talks, all the ingredients to make a good summer vacation and now you two were here, an assumption of unrequited love between you two, as the sun fell.

   "Thanks for coming. I know I said it before but, you are the first 'friend' I've had in a while. At least the first friend I'm willing to hang out with outside of an academic setting. So, yeah, I really appreciate it." You were laying on your side with your head resting on Lando's thighs, but after your heartfelt expression of gratitude, you turned yourself so you were looking up into his face. A beautiful face that was looking back at you, illuminated by the dusk light, bright blue eyes smiling with his lips that were turned in an admiring grin.

   "Thank you for inviting me." Lando had to take a moment. If he thought you were beautiful in broad daylight, seeing the light of the setting sun highlight the undertones of your brown skin, making your brown eyes shine along with your freshly glossed lips that he had the pleasure of watching you do, was the greatest gift ever given to him. "I really needed a day on a boat." He had to come back with a witty quip as to not give away how intensely he was observing you.

   "The truth comes out. You used me for a bougie boat day." You dramatically lift the back of your left hand to your forehead, eyes closed so you don't see Lando's smile get infinitely brighter.

   "Yeah, sorry. It just had to happen, you know? What is a Formula 1 summer break without being on a boat at some point?" Lando shrugs and looks out into the vastness of the water among you guys.

   "You've got a point there." You cross your arms again, and look out toward the water as well, giving Lando a window to look back down at you. 

   Silence settles among you two, the sound of moving water and laughter from the group behind you two surrounding you both in a comfortable cocoon. On the outside at least. You both were trying hard to focus on the calming noises of the summer evening around you, trying to relax in the scent of the water and each other, but it was precisely each other's scent that was making you both panic. 

   For you, it was the closeness. You wished Lando was laying next to you, hugging you close. You promptly stuffed those feelings deep down because the last time you longed for that, the asshole cheated, and that's the last thing you wanted from Lando.

   For Lando, it was the great desire to tell you how undeniably beautiful you looked. How beautiful you look all the time. How special he felt whenever looked at him. How he wanted to have you to himself for the rest of his life. He wanted say all this and so much more, but instead he interrupts the silence with this:

   "Have you thought about dating again?" He doesn't look at you. He can't. His body froze the moment the words dropped from his mouth and he knew that he wouldn't be able to move until you answered.

   "Surprisingly, I have recently. I actually had someone ask me out on a date last week. He's in one of my lectures." Your voice was spritely and nonchalant, truthfully answering the question posed to you.

   "Don't go." Lando's answer was frantic and abrupt, causing you to tear your eyes from the water and look up at him.

   "What?" You don't lift your head initially, thinking you might have heard him wrong.

   "Don't go on that date. I doubt they're even good enough for you." He can't seem to bring himself to look at you, because he wanted to go through with this and looking at you will only make him chicken out. You left your head from Lando's lap and prop yourself up so you had your back to the water and was trying to get a glimpse of Lando's eyes.

   "And who, might I ask, is?" There was a hint of frustration in your voice and the way you scrunched your eyebrows.

   "Me! I am, okay!? I don't want you to go anywhere or do anything with another guy because I want you with me." You don't answer, but you allow your look to soften as you wait for Lando to finish. "Yn, I think about you nearly every minute of every day, and talk about nearly as much. I don't know how else to say it but, you are probably the most amazing person I have ever met. And I know this is probably a lot on you emotionally, which is the last thing I wanted, but I had to let you know how I felt in hopes that you felt the same way." He pauses and hesitantly looks to his side to gauge the look on your face, which was not a positive look in his opinion. You had brought your eyebrows together, in a much more subtle way than when you were mad or frustrated, but enough for Lando to notice. A braid had fallen from the bun you created midway through the day, hanging in front of your left eye as your gaze examined Lando's face. And your lips, those lips he's long wished he could kiss, pursed in a cautious pucker that was cocked to the side. He continues. "I'll be alright if you do not feel the same way. I just want to at least stay friends, because I care about you. A lot. And all I truly want is to be there whenever you need me…" You unknit your eyebrows and decrease the pucker of your lips, softening the look on your face which allows his heart rate to slow. "I feel like I strayed a bit from where I was trying to go with th-"

   "Okay." Your answer was quick. You held intense eye contact with Lando, as if looking away would dampen the magnitude of the major step you just took.

   "What?" It was almost comical the face Lando made. Eyes wide with shock and confusion, hair fluffed up from him nervously running his hands through his hair, his whole demeanor childish in contrast to the facial hair sprinkled on his chin.

   "Okay, I'll be with you, or go on a date… whatever it is you're asking." When you didn't receive an answer you just continued, similar to how Lando had. "You're right, this is a lot for me emotionally, feeling so strongly for you. I have tried to pass it off as a friendly affection I had towards you, but over the past, what, like month, I realized that I was attracted to you. And not just superficially, I was attracted to the care you showed me, your ability to make me laugh and help me fall in love with me again. But from my side of it, I thought you were only being nice as a friend, so knowing this is a load off of my mind… to an extent." You shift and scoot yourself around so you are sitting shoulder to shoulder with Lando.

   "An extent?" Lando looks over to you and you look back out into the water.

   "My ex was pretty good at love bombing me in the beginning." You were nonchalant in your answer, as it was something you've had to work to get yourself to realize. The loss of affection you experienced in your last relationship was abnormal but inevitable.

   "Oh. Well, I promise this is not that, really." You look over at him again, seeing a certain sincerity you don't think you've ever seen in any other guy not directly related to you.

   "Okay." That silence settles between you two again, this time while you were looking at one another, eyes flickering to each others lips.

   "Can I kiss you?" Lando's eyes were on your lips while he spoke, ready to pounce once he received confirmation.

   "I thought you'd never ask." You smile then lean in, lips finally connecting. Lando's hand settled on your hip, trying to pull you in closer, getting a strong urge to wrap you in his arms and never let you go, but instead he keeps the hand on your hip. You hand were on the sides of Lando's face, loving the feel of his stubble under your thumbs, smiling into the soft kiss you two were sharing. For the first time in a very long time, you felt comfortable in a kiss. Felt the love and care that was supposed to come with a kiss, not the feeling of what seemed like contractual obligation that you've experienced in the past. It was…nice.

lando.jpg

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lando.jpg School Daze 🏫

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ynhamilton Why did you take a picture of me studying?

>lando.jpg Because I thought you looked pretty 🤷😘

>ynhamilton Oh...well you look pretty in the last pic 😚

>girls4yn These two are so cute it hurts

lewishamilton How much studying actually happened?

>ynhamilton Mind your business ✋🏿

ynhamilton

Liked by landonorris and 173,890 others

ynhamilton Another day, another podium 🏆 (That champagne pop was freaking hot 🥵)

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landonorris It's all for you baby 😘

>lewishamilton Stop that, both of you

mclaren09 Love that Yn is here to say what we all have been thinking

landoluvsyn LONG LIVE THE CHAMPAGNE POP 🍾🍾🍾

norrisdachamp Look at how happy he is to see Yn, Lando is the standard and we should not settle for less

   "Ria, can I have my girlfriend back, please?" You and Ria were practically skipping toward the long folding table with 4 pumpkins and 4 packs of carving tools that were situated in front of the studio cameras.

   "Lando, I told you before, she's our girlfriend. You get her all the time, now it's my turn." Ria brings her hand to your head and gently brings it into her shoulder, carefully running her hand down your new braids.

   "Don't worry mate, you've got me to keep you company." Max walks over to Lando and drapes his arm over his shoulders.

   "No offense, but I have no desire to kiss you, so this could never work." Lando pats his friend's hand in mock consolation, a small smile growing on his face as he watches you interact with Ria. Seeing your energy, knowing that you used to actively avoid making friends. Ever since you two officially started dating, about a month ago, he has been helping you step out your shell, encouraging you to interact with people you've expressed a desire to get know, watching you build healthy friendships in spheres where you were able to be yourself, and he has loved being the subject of you learning how to be in love comfortably. During this small moment of observation and retrospection, Lando didn't realize that, not only had Max released his hold on Lando's shoulders, but everyone was nearly ready to start filming the video, for which he was supposed to do the intro.

   "Lando love, you okay?" You were on the other side of the table behind a pumpkin, your question, more accurately the words in your question causing everyone to turn towards you two.

   "Yeah, baby. I'm fine." He smiles at you, a contagious smile that crinkles the side of his face and shows the gap in his teeth.

   "Then let's get started!" Niran groans from behind his pumpkin that he's sharing with Ethan, followed by collective agreement from everyone else.

   "Oh, shut up. All of you." Lando waves off the groans and heads behind the table to start the video. He didn't know if Max knew him that well or if it was by coincidence, but Lando couldn't have been happier that he was going to be able to do the video next to you. As all the people behind the camera finish final checks, Lando turns his head to look at you giving you a soft grin and you reciprocate, taking a deep breath relishing in the moment. You two share a quick peck that causes the rest of Quadrant to groan and jokingly gag. Soon, it was time for Lando to start the video.

   "Hello, everyone. Today is your lucky day because we are bringing you a cheeky, little Halloween video." Lando snakes his hand to yours, loosely intertwining his fingers and rubbing your hand with his thumb.

   "Quadrant: Halloween Edition" Aarav pipes up followed by various other voices adding to the discord before the intro is put back on track.

   "So, with Halloween coming up, we all realized that none of us have carved a pumpkin yet, so that is what we will be doing today but with a slight twist. As you can see we are all paired up. Me and Max, Yn and Ria, Ethan and Niran, and Aarav and Steve. So, for the pumpkin carving, the carver with be blindfolded and the other person will have to direct the carver on where to cut. Each team will be assigned something that they have to carve and the person not blindfolded will be given one minute to draw a quick outline. From there, the teams have 20 minutes to carve. Once time is up, the blindfolded carver will have 1 minute to guess the prompt from what they carved. Teams unable to do so will be subjected to a special punishment that won't be revealed until the end of the video. So, with all that being said," Lando looks towards you one more time and smiles. "Let's get started."

   "You're going down, sweetheart." You reciprocate the competitive tone of his words and squeezing his hand before releasing it to get the challenge started.

______________

ynhamilton

Liked by riabish and 182,974 others

ynhamilton Motorsport girlies are the best 🤩😘

lilymhe, riabish, carmenmmundt, and francisca.cgomes tagged

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lilymhe I will get you to come golfing one day

> ynhamilton Not if you don't want to be a witness to property damage

pierregasly @landonorris, tell your girlfriend to stop stealing our girlfriends

> landonorris It's not her fault she's the most awesome amazing person in the who world 🤷

mcmerc I feel like Yn has a special ability as a wag/F1 sibling to have cool relationships not just centered around her boyfriend and I'm glad for her

_________

   "Hey, man! Long time no see." Lewis enthusiastically greets Lando, them sharing a handshake that allows them to pull each other into a hug.

   "I know. I can't believe the last time I saw you was last night." Lando rests his hands on his hips while the two chuckle at their terrible joke.

   "But really, I just wanted to pull you aside to thank you. It's been a while since I've seen Yn so happy." Lewis crosses his arms but holds eye contact, a soft gracious grin on his face.

   "It's all Yn. She's…unreal. It's been amazing watching her grow. And not just in our relationship, but making friends and stuff… Look at me getting all sappy." Lando brings his hand to his hair and smiles to himself. Even he gets surprised with how hard and fast he fell for you, but he has been loving every second of it.

   "Ten points for that answer." Lewis lets out a loud laugh and brings Lando into a quick side hug. "But nah, man, give yourself some credit. I love my sister but she is tough. Your persistence in this relationship truly shows how much you care about her.”

   “I really do. I-I love her. I really love her.” Even Lando is surprised to hear these words leave lips. He never thought that the the first time he ever fully declared his love for you would be to your brother, but it was out and he was happy that it was, and he could see in Lewis’ response that he was just as happy. He made a mental note to tell you tonight.

   “Oh, that’s awesome. You just made me the happiest brother ever.” Lewis exaggerates his response, lightening the mood.

   “Yeah, yeah.” Lando waves off Lewis with a smile that quickly turns to urgency when he remembers something that he wanted to ask Lewis. “When in Yn’s birthday?” It was a quick blunt question that he knew he would have to supplement with an explanation.

   “You’re in love with my sister but you don’t know when her birthday is?” Lewis’ bright smile dims and takes on a hint of confusion.

   “Well, I know we talked about it at some point because she knows my birthday, but it must have been one of our earlier dates because back then I was always so nervous, I was probably conscious for like half the date and then the rest of the time trying to actively control my breathing.” Lando’s rambling was amusing to your brother, generating a small breathy chuckle from him. But right as Lewis was preparing to mess with him, them and the two other drivers that were there for the press meeting were called up onto the stage, only leaving enough time for Lewis to truthfully answer the nervous boy.

   “February 14th.” Lewis walks up onto the stage leaving Lando to fall for you even more, just because of the day of your birthday.

   “Of course it’s Valentine’s Day.” Lando says to himself, shaking his head before heading on stage.

_____________

landonorris

Liked by ynhamilton and 283,156 others

landonorris Happy Birthday to my favorite Valentine (sorry mum) 🎈💘

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ynhamilton Thank you my love 🩷, but I hate to break it to you, Mama Norris is my Valentine 💋🤷🏿‍♀️

adam_norris_pure_electric Just asked your mum, said for Yn, she's okay with being second favorite Valentine ♥️

pieceopiastri I don't know how to explain it, but this like an absolute perfect version of love that they both needed. It feels otherworldly. ✨

__________

   You pace around the bedroom of your off-campus apartment, tears threatening to interrupt your attempt to steady your breathing as you go through the motions to facetime your brother, only having to wait two rings for him to answer.

   “What’s up?” This made it obvious that Lewis answered your call without looking at his phone, but one sniff from you clued him in to look and see you with teary bloodshot eyes and a runny nose. “Hey, Bug, what’s wrong?”

   "I'm panicking." You keep pacing and breathing.

   "About what?" Whatever it was that Lewis was doing at the time could wait. You could tell from the shifting behind him that he was moving to a place where he would be able to focus only on you.

   "I'm in love with Lando." When you say it, it sounds ridiculous. That's supposed to be a good thing, right?

   "I know. You both say it to each other at least 10 times before breakfast." Lewis tried to joke, make you crack a smile, but a staunch frown stays on your face.

   "Lew…" You were tired. You didn't need jokes, you needed advice.

   "Okay, I'm sorry. Continue." Lewis couldn't help but smile at your frustration. All he saw was his baby sister, little girl, uninhibited hair everywhere, crying because she wasn't allowed to help tune up his kart.

   "What I feel for Lando makes what I felt for…he who won't be named…feel like a preschool crush." You giggle at the fact that, even in the midst of a breakdown, you still would not allow your ex's name to leave your mouth. "But that's what's scary, though. I can't even fathom how much more it would hurt if Lando left me." You let out another laugh, this one hollow and hysteric.

   "Yn…" Lewis was about to start to console you, but you continue to rant.

   "The things I think when I'm with him…they're so sappy. Like we're old married people." You pause and dramatically smack your forehead with an open palm. "MARRIAGE! I'VE THOUGHT ABOUT MARRYING HIM! ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS! Were too young to get married, right!?" Your phone was in your hand, so though Lewis could hear you, all he saw were various moving shots of your bedroom and occasionally your face.

   "I see." This small statement from your brother was purely for him to let you know that he was still there and still listening, something you get quite sensitive about when you're mad.

   "Lewis, I feel like this love, this feeling, is being wasted on me. Do I really deserve to be loved like this, by someone like Lando, when I don't know what I'm doing half the time?" You finally docked on your bed, lying on your side and situating the phone so Lewis could see your face.

   "Okay, first of all, you always deserve love. Never ever question that again." You nod at Lewis' command, letting a small sentimental grin flash on your face briefly. "Now, I do understand your worry. After what you had to go through with your previous relationship, your concerns are valid. But Lando is not him. Lando is so madly in love with you, it's crazy, actually. Especially at, what, just barely a year in, I am being completely serious when I say you do not have to worry about him." This time you couldn't help but smile at your brother's praise and affirmation that what was between you and Lando was nothing to fear. "I also know you, and you tend to be closed off…for good reason sometimes, but this is not a good reason. I'll allow you to keep your barrier, but make it a screen door instead of an iron door that you swallowed the key to, so you can retreat when you feel overwhelmed but you can still talk through it, okay?" Right as Lewis finished talking, Lando's name flashes at the top of the screen.

   "Okay. Um, Lando's calling so…" Your voice was meek, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster you just went through.

   "Alright I'll let you go. Remember, screen door" Lewis first points at the camera with a straight face that quickly morphs to his day-brightening, gapped smile. "Love you, Bug."

   "Love you too. And...thank you." You kiss at the screen then pick up Lando's call as Lewis hangs up. "Hey, hun bun."

   "Hey, baby." Lando's voice was filled with enthusiasm, but he hesitated before he continued. "You okay? You look like you've been crying. Your eyes are red."

   "I was stressing out earlier about something, but I was able to talk to Lew about it so I'm feeling much better." You sniff and dab away residual tears that stayed near your eyes with your fingers.

   "Okay. As long as you feel better…" Your boyfriend's face was still full of concern, but he kept on to the first thing he wanted to ask you about. "Um, are you still coming out this weekend?"

   "Oh, yeah. I am." Lando could sense your tiredness. He smiled though, because he loved he loved how soft you got, opposite from your usual hard self, giving Lando a chance to really take care of you. "I wish I was there now, so I could just cuddle you, smell you, hear your voice in person and not through a freaking phone." Your eyelids begin to droop, but you force them back open.

  "Two days left. And then Saturday I won't do anything all day except be your personal talking body pillow." The smile Lando gave you after these simple, silly words made you realize exactly how "worth it" it was to be in love with Lando and to let Lando love you, because you have never received a smile like that until you met him 

   "That sounds lovely." You pause and check the time. "Okay, I'm gonna go shower, but I'll call you back once I'm done." You stretch and stand from your bed, trying to keep the camera on your face.

   "No, go to sleep right after your shower. You were dozing off. I'll call you in the morning, alright?" You nod then admire the face on your phone screen one more time.

   "Okay. Love you." Your words were a shock for Lando, only because you did not usually say "Love you" first, but he played it off.

   "Love you too. Talk to you tomorrow." He went with a simple grin that you mirrored back to him.

   "Okay." You finally give a wave, a small finger wiggling wave and Lando does the same, not exactly the same wave, but a wave that signaled the end of the call, after which you get ready to shower.

ynhamilton

Liked by danielricciardo and 231,277 others

ynhamilton Happy Birthday to my soulmate. Fate really popped of with this one. 💓 (This man's face makes my heartbeat irregular)

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landonorris The universe is valid for bringing you to me♥️ (The woman posting this gives me shortness of breath)

>ynhamilton Hehe, see you tonight love 😘

danorris It is quite literally amazing how Lando looks at Yn-I want everyone to examine each photo and take ample notes

alex_albon Happy Birthday mate 🥳

>landonorris Why are you telling me this on Yn's post

>alex_albon Lily told me to 👉🏻

>lilymhe Rat

lewishamilton

Liked by landonorris and 791,838 others

lewishamilton Thank you for making my sister so happy. Happy birthday. 🎈

landonorris tagged

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landonorris Thank you trusting me with your sister 😊

sennasiempre I'm gonna cry 🥲

bestboylew And my brother left me at a sketchy petrol station for 15 minutes

ynhamilton Thank you, Lewis 💋

> lewishamilton You chose a good one, Bug ♥️

> ynhamilton I know 💞

_________

   "This is lovely, Lando." You and Lando were sitting at a beautifully decorated table in the middle of the garden at your father's house, which was where you two were staying for the start of the season's summer break, a much needed break since you have been swamped with your new job in the development division at McLaren. This gesture from your dad was a bit suspicious because, even under the best of normal circumstances, your dad would still be hesitant to let Lando in the door. This time, though, he was more than ecstatic.

   "It's nothing, really." Lando's demeanor was an adorable mixture of adoration and anxiousness that you couldn't help but smile at.

   "No, really, this is beautiful." You smile even wider at how bright Lando's eyes got.

   "Well, I, uh, tried to make it as beautiful as you, but I barely scratched the surface." There was a short beat before you and Lando bursted out laughing.

   "That was so cheesy!" You were just barely able to get these words out in the midst of your laughter.

   "I know! I know!" Lando's face had run red and his voice an octave higher as he tried to calm his laugh. "I'm running on autopilot. I guess I get sappy when I'm nervous." He messes with his utensils on the table, sniffing and using the back of his hand to wipe the tears that fell while he was laughing.

   "Nervous? Why would you be nervous?" You take a well needed sip of water and scrunch your eyebrows slightly as you wait for an answer.

  "Oh, well, um… I guess there's no time like the present." Lando clears his throat and takes your hand, a gesture that causes your face to contort with confusion and eyes to frantically look between your guys' hands and Lando’s nervously smiling face. “Yn, meeting you was the closest I felt to physically turning a page in my life. The moment I saw you, I had to talk to you and the moment I talked to you, I was in love, and everything that we have gone through since then has only made me love you more. And I’ve been so proud of you, watching you come out of your shell, working through the hurt from the past, allowing yourself to fall in love again, and it’s been an honor to be the person to receive that love.” Your face doesn’t change but Lando can see tears well up in your eyes. “I love you, and for these past few months, being able to have you around more during the season, has made me realize that…you’re endgame for me. I can’t imagine myself being with anyone but you.”

   “Lando…” Your voice squeaks. You knew what was coming, and you were conflicted. A part of you wanted to run, no real destination, just wanting to remove yourself from the situation as quick as possible. Another part of you, a much larger part that completely nullified the desire to run, continues to wait patiently for the question you knew was coming so you could give the answer you both wanted to hear.

   “Yn, please marry me. I know we’re young, and the engagement might be a long one, but knowing that, when the time does come,  it’s you I’m saying ‘I do’ to, would make me the happiest man in the world.” Tears were now in Lando’s eyes as he finished his speech and awaited your answer. You also feel eyes from behind you and you prepare your words.

   “Yes…okay.” Your voice was a mere whisper when you answered, and that whisper was music to his ears.

   “Great.” You both start to giggle at nothing in particular, more than likely in shock from the moment prior, but still Lando takes the ring from the blue velvet box that you hadn’t noticed on the table until now and slides it on the proper finger then guides your face with his other hand to his so you guys could share a smiley kiss, abruptly yet joyously interrupted by you’re families, Lewis wrapping his arms around your shoulders and Lando’s dad ruffling his hair, various other family members, everyone except for Lewis and your dad making surprise appearances, had surrounded the small table you two sat at. 

   What a lovely way to start summer break.

landonorris

Liked by lewishamilton and 791,758 others

landonorris I promise to be yours forever, Valentine 💍

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lewishamilton Welcome to the family (even though your always around now so it literally won't feel any different)

ynhamilton ♥️♥️♥️

> ynhamilton I still expect my Valentine's Day sweets

> landonorris Yes dear 😘

carmenmmundt So happy for you two! You both have so much love for each other and its always so beautiful to see 💕

> ynhamilton Thank you, Carmen ♥️ Keep an eye out for that bridal party invite 👀

riabish Keep making our girl happy Lando 💓

> landonorris I'll make sure she gets her dose of Ria, I promise 😊

#Spotify #black reader #formula 1 #request #f1 imagines #formula 1 x black!reader #f1 x black!reader #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x black!reader #lando norris x reader #hamilton!reader #lewis hamilton

[yellow-berrys]

dote on me | sirius black x fem!reader

summary: you are completely oblivious to the way sirius black dotes on you, and think that the way you're infatuated with him is completely one-sided. but he begs to differ.

warnings: mentions of a bad childhood, mentions of smoking, drinking and illicit substances

navigation | masterlist 

Sirius Black makes you nervous and he darn well knows that. He uses those consuming grey eyes of his, filled with enigmatic interest, to his advantage. He only needs to focus them on you for a considerate amount of time for you to start burning up like a wildfire. And his nose, it’s pointed and perfect, leaving you wondering just how unfair life can be. His cheekbones are high and structured, light hitting them at glorious angles. His lips are devoid of much red. They’re this cool plum colour that looks like it’s lip gloss all the time but really isn’t. His skin is framed by smooth black hair, and the layers in his haircut are so pretty it prompted every other guy in his life to get the same one. It drives you mad that he was born with this face and that hair. It’s simply unjustified. 

It would be fine if he was just a pretty face. But it’s not. It’s simply unacceptable just how nice he is. Sometimes you wish he isn’t a gentleman and that all the rumours about him being a player with a million tattoos were true, because you’re envious and adoring of him. 

And like anyone, he definitely has a vice. People think it’s cigarettes for him but he definitely does not smoke. And he doesn’t drink. At parties, he’s cradling a cautiously poured glass of lemonade instead. And he definitely doesn’t do drugs, because he hangs around Remus Lupin and there’s no way he would be allowed to if he did. Remus is a little sickly sometimes, and his body is very sensitive. 

He likes to say his vice is chasing things he’ll never have. Like his childhood. He thinks he has regained that. Now, maybe it’s some sort of romance. All his life he’s been mooned over. People love him, mostly because he’s beautiful, and they offer him burning hot love all the time. People think he’s one for angsty, fiery passion. But Sirius thinks that fires never last, they’re too easy to disturb and taint everything with the unpleasant smell of smoke. James once did one of his stupid Women’s Weekly quizzes on him, the one with the “Tell me your favourite colour, and it’ll tell you what other people think of you, tell me your favourite animal…” questions. Sirius had laughed, thrown his head back and answered in a complete stupor. “Black, maroon if black isn’t an answer, dog…” James had asked him what his favourite body of water was and Sirius had said “A lake.”

He had spent summers of his broken youth dipping his toes into the pretty lake by his family’s home in France, escaping from the whirlwind world inside the walls of Walburga and Orion’s chateau. It didn’t make him cry more when he cried, because it would welcome the tears into the gently flowing water. 

James had smiled, “Why?”

Sirius had told him, “It’s gentle, relaxing, peaceful. The one in France was so enveloping and soft. I felt safe there.”

“Chateau?”

“Yep. I used to go out there as a little boy. It was so quiet out there and it felt like heaven, so fluid and open.”

“Hm,” James had studied the words underneath, squinting his eyes, “Ooh, that’s how you feel about love. Never knew you were the romantic type, Pads.”

He had laughed. 

James had asked you too. You had giggled, “Did you steal Lily’s Women’s Weekly again?”

He grumbled, “Not again.”

“I like ponds with little koi fish swimming in them.”

“Why?”

“It’s calm in a joyful way. It’s safe and there’s always rays of golden sun and it feels so delightful and promising. Lucky too, I guess. Oh! And it’s so pretty by a koi fish pond.”

James had grinned and left promptly. 

Sirius thought it was strange when he had first met you. He hadn’t ever had these feelings before, and it took years for him to shove them aside and focus on his studies, friends and mischief-making. But you were affiliated with Marlene, you were always around in some way. You and him became friends and Sirius felt those feelings resurface again. 

He groans into his hands as he runs it across his face. 

“Why?!” he asks Lily, who is watching amusedly. 

“I’m sure you can’t help it,” she says primly, “But what if you could help it?”

He looks at her inquisitively. 

“What if you acted on these feelings? It isn’t half-bad of an idea. You’re grown up, Sirius, and if you still like her that means it’s real.”

“She doesn’t like me.”

“You don’t know that.” 

“What if bad things happen?”

“What’s the worst that could?”

“Death.”

“You’re already halfway there,” she rolls her eyes, “Give it a shot, maybe love will make you less sad.”

“I’m not sad!”

“Whatever, start loving, Sirius.”

She picks up her Women’s Weekly magazine and starts reading. “Ooh, there’s this quiz-”

Sirius groans. 

–

“Hey darling,” Sirius strides into your apartment. Good start, he thinks. 

You’re sprawled on the couch, grinning as you FaceTime Marlene and Dorcas. When you see him, you look up, surprised. 

“Marlene’s in Vegas,” you say, “Didn’t she tell you?”

Marlene did tell Sirius, and even offered that he come with her and Dorcas.

You flip the camera to Sirius, and even in blurry, low quality, Facetime video he’s still very handsome. 

Marlene screams, “What is that monster doing in my apartment?”

You grin, “Marls, he was looking for you.”

“Actually,” Sirius tilts his head, and if you weren’t so thick you might see the smitten look in his eyes, “I’m here for you.” 

You frown, “For taxes? It’s only the start of the month. Besides, the IRS will never tail you, you’re too rich for that.”

“Can’t I spend time with you, pretty girl?”

It’s flattering, but it seems too abrupt to be genuine. You brush it off with a laugh.

“Get a load of you,” you roll your eyes, “What do you need?”

“I need you,” he attempts and the confession, although seeming flirtatious and joking, brings a smile to your face. 

Marlene chortles, “Guys- I-I-I-I’m…cutt-ing…ou-ou-ou-t.” She fakes it and it’s obvious, but the FaceTime ends and Sirius sits opposite you now. He’s pretty even at seven in the evening and it makes you very nervous. 

You stand up, uneased, and make towards your bedroom. 

“Where are you going?”

“Oh,” you gesture to an old pile of clothes, “Marlene cleaned her wardrobe out before she left, so I decided to follow suit so then we can donate them.”

“Why’re you leaving me?” he pouts. 

“You want to…stay?” 

You’re so puzzled and your heart is beating far too fast for your liking. It goes pitter patter like the rain outside. It’s exhausting. The feeling might be addictive, like a good old fashioned crush, but it’s always playing with you. It feels avaricious to love someone out of your league, worth more than you have ever been.

His sudden showering of affections and doting on you, you think, is because he’s lonely. He doesn’t live with James anymore. You empathise with him, but only because you think you’ll know what that feels like in a month when Dorcas and Marlene move in together. But it really isn’t. Sirius actually thinks that you deserve all the heavy-handed loving in the world, and he always has. His apprehension towards him being the person to do the loving is slowly fading away as he sees the shy smile on your face. 

“If you’ll have me.”

And you turn your head around so he doesn’t see you blush, “Okay, I’ve been meaning to get a second opinion. Whenever I do this I do it with Marlene.” 

You try things on by the mirror in your bedroom, instructing Sirius to look away when needed. He isn’t much of a help at all, because he thinks you look good in everything. Which is just certainly not true. 

On a whim, he suggests that because he isn’t aiding you successfully, you should help him on his own closet. In the end, you wind up in his apartment. 

Sirius has never boasted about what he has at all, mainly because he isn’t proud of it. By what unethical means his trust fund has come from, he doesn’t even want to know, but he’s grateful for it. You’ve only ever seen his living room, kitchen and his small powder room, and they’re lavish and capacious to no ends. Everything subtly screams wealth and luxury. His bedroom is no different. A large bed sits in the middle, framed by expensive paintings. There’s a well made ebony table in the corner, spotless and tidy. The two armchairs in the room are, whilst clearly faux-leather, intricate and of the sort of taste cultivated only by time. A copy of the original Call of the Wild sits on a table. A bookshelf is on one side of the room, grey, stretching from the floor to ceiling. You run your fingers along the spines of the book. They’re all special editions. A simple chandelier (what an oxymoron) dangles in the middle of the room, and you find the ceiling is gilded with plaster and gold. Pictures of friends and family adorn the white walls. 

His walk in closet is humongous. You gasp as he opens the door. It’s double the size of your living room. The clothes are organised by colour, style and season and there’s a considerable lack of colour. In the middle sits an accessory table, with dozens of gold watches and silver necklaces. Delicate rings and bracelets all are displayed. A glass cabinet with bottles of cologne and perfume stands next to it. The only ones you can recognise is something that resembles the Ralph Lauren logo and Dior, and then again it isn’t even the one Johnny Depp uses.

He smiles sheepishly, ashamed that he has such nice things, “I did use my own money on this. Euphemia helped me fix it up.”

“It’s beautiful, Sirius,” you’re almost afraid to touch anything. You don’t think you belong in such a gorgeous world. You don’t think you deserve it. 

Sirius beams at you, “Guess there’s not a difference between it and you, then.”

Your face warms. Sirius is already taking clothes off the racks, whilst you stand awkwardly. He’s chatting, talking about where the clothes came from and who gave them to him and why he likes it so much. Your shoulders relax and you look at him like he’s the only thing that matters. So far he’s through all the things he deems necessary for him to live. 

“And this jumper,” he holds up a pristine Ecru crewneck, offering it to you, “Is from when I went to visit Machu Picchu with James. When we left, one of the ladies we had been staying with gave us both a handmade jumper.”

You hold the fabric delicately in your hands. 

“It’s alright. It’s just clothes, darling, you can do whatever you like with them.”

He’s so nice it hurts and you grin at him endearingly, “Thanks, Sirius.”

An adoring smile finds its way onto his face as he turns to pick up the next item. You put the sweater in the “KEEP” pile. 

“How did this get here?” he laughs as he pulls out a bright yellow crewneck, with a little emblem etched on the side. Immediately he tugs it on, grinning as he surveys the bright colour in the mirror. 

You’re blushing away because the colour suits him so well and makes him look way softer than he usually does.

He sneaks a glance at you in the mirror, and when he sees your lack of eye contact with him he frowns. 

“Are you okay?” he asks you. 

“Yeah. Yellow looks really nice on you, Sirius.”

“Does it?”

“Mhm. I don’t know, it makes you look…cuddly?”

He doesn’t smirk like you expect him to, but swivels around and smiles at you again. He knows he looks like he loves you. He doesn’t mind. You’re just sitting there, confused at why he’s doing this. It’s weird and sudden and it’s definitely something he would do. 

Maybe this is his new favourite jumper. 

He throws it in the keep pile. You tut disapprovingly and rearrange it gently. Seeing a t-shirt, he takes his own shirt off, letting it fall to the floor. You cover your eyes, not wanting to intrude on his privacy. 

Sirius is midway through putting the shirt on when he laughs. “It’s okay, princess, I didn’t ask you to look away. I don’t mind. Unless you do, then I’ll change over there.”

You peek your eyes at him, and Sirius hopes that he’s not imagining your pupils blown slightly. 

And you didn’t think he could get more perfect, but he is. His muscles are toned and defined, and slightly strained as he slides his shirt on. Gosh, he makes you feel inadequate. He can’t know you want him, so you grin as if you’re unaffected. 

“That’s cute,” you nod. 

And the process repeats. Sometimes he takes off his pants too, leaving him to just his boxers that cling onto him in an ungodly way. 

“Are you done?” you ask, eyes covered tightly by your hand. 

“Yeah.”

Sirius is dressed in a suit, the tenth one tonight, “Do we like this one, or the grey one?”

“I like the way this one fits, but I like the grey colour more. But I think the dull dove blue one was the best because it brings out your eyes.”

Sirius makes a mental note to get the grey one altered. He chucks away some old sleeping tees, and a bunch of band hoodies he doesn’t wear anymore. He also gets rid of one of his expensive sweaters with a cable knit and a button up shirt, a bunch of sweatpants and this hideous sweater vest that his Aunt Thelma gifted him for his 17th birthday. 

He thinks maybe you might like to wear some of the things he has in his wardrobe–Euphemia picks them out with him and she represents a small portion of women. He lugs the bag of clothes to his car, and when he’s back, he sees you cross-legged on an armchair, typing on your phone. 

“Sweetheart, what do I owe you?” he asks. 

Your eyes are wide as you stare at him, “For what?” 

You put your phone down on the side table. 

“For helping me?”

“Nothing, Sirius, nothing at all. It’s my pleasure, really.”

“Do you want to take some of my clothes? I have more than enough.”

You look inquisitively at him, “You don’t mind?”

“‘Course not.”

You go home that night with two of his fancy jumpers, he insists, and one big button up shirt, and a bunch of other stuff he is adamant you should take too. You call Lily. Her voice comes out muffled on the other end. 

“Hey Lily!

“Mhm, I’m well, how are you?

“He’s not that bad, I’m sure. You do know he took your Women’s Weekly– 

“I’ve already done that quiz. 

“Right, well, I don’t think Sirius is fine, in his own right.

“No! As in the sad happy fine, not the cute handsome fine.

“Well- no- I- I don’t think he’s not fine- I mean - Okay whatever. Is he alright? He keeps on acting weird.

A long pause. 

“You know something, don’t you, Red? 

“It’s kind of strange. I mean, he offered for me to take one of his- I don’t know, the Ermenegildo Ze-

“Yes, that! One of those jumpers. 

“Are you sure? That’s what he is normally? Isn’t he usually bad-boy cool guy? Not dorky weird compliment giver? 

“Alright, fine. 

“Bye, love you!”

You survey the pile of clothes for any trace of a prank. Nothing. You take out one and inspect it suspiciously. Then, your intrusive thoughts get the better of you and you sniff the material carefully. It smells really nice. You chuck them in the wash just in case Sirius has popped one of his silly prank gadgets into the pockets or beneath the collar. 

The next time you see him, Lily has called you to tell you she and James are going to Vegas to join Marlene and Dorcas. They’re celebrating a championship. She invites you, but you decline, not liking the idea of tailing behind the two couples and intruding on the romantic atmosphere. Sirius is all alone, and Lily tells you to ‘please go and check up on him’.

The apartment seems okay. It’s spotless like it always is, smelling of air freshener and Sirius’ cologne. It doesn’t look like Sirius is going through something rough at all. Sirius might not even be home, so you’re about to leave when you hear music coming from a secluded area of the apartment. You sneak into the corridor and the door is ajar. A beautiful black grand piano stands, Sirius sitting at it, playing the finest tune you’ve ever heard. The sounds reverberate gently through the room, and it’s divine. It’s joyful and skips on merrily. His eyes are closed and his lips are turned up. It makes you think that maybe he’s thinking of someone. 

He stirs a little at the noise and you pull back. He gets up from his chair and peeks his head around the door. You’re wearing his jumper over some sweatpants. It’s so pretty on you, falling oversized. 

He laughs, which brings heat to your cheeks, “Do you want to come in?”

“You’ll let me?” you gasp, “But you don’t even let Dorcas come in, and she’s a cello-ist.”

“You’re special,” he winks and you blush. You must look like a motley of colours- florid and pink. But you don’t mind, he makes everyone nervous and you’re not special, which puts you at ease.

You perch on the cushy chair as he plays a lilting song. You hum, approving, “What’s the song called?”

“Love,” he says and you agree. The song plays like what love feels like. 

It’s so soft, and warm. Combined with Sirius’ lavender and honey cologne, it makes you drowsy. He notices your eyes are barely open, and instead of ending the song, continues to play the same melody over a lighter bass. When your breathing becomes steady, he quietly rises from the piano and scoops you up, knowing it can’t be comfortable to sleep in a chair. He carries you to his own room, where he tucks you into his bed. You’re murmuring unintelligible things. He leaves and continues playing, before Lily calls and he knows he should be in bed, because it’s morning in Las Vegas. Thus, he shuts his piano and drapes a soft velvet across it. He falls onto the couch and listening to Lily’s calming method to waking up, he falls asleep. 

In the morning, you’re in a vaguely familiar room. The sheets are silk and the ceiling is fancier than an art gallery’s. You yawn, stretching. The clock next to you detects the motion and flashes a dim white. Of course it’s an analogue clock, reading 5:00 am. You remember shutting your eyes slowly in the piano room, the news had been playing on the TV earlier. So you had fallen asleep at seven. 10 hours, more than enough. You quickly get up and make the bed. After using his fancy skincare products and brushing your teeth with a spare toothbrush you find packaged up, you hear soft snores coming from the living room. Sirius is there, phone by his side. 

You pout at how much of a gentleman he is, retrieving a blanket and carefully placing it on him. Then you prepare a smoothie, with the fourteen-million ingredients he has in his giant fridge, and leave it in there with a note. But Sirius wakes. He’s always been a light sleeper. 

He leans blearily over the couch, “Sweetheart?”

“Good morning!” you chirp. 

“Why do you have to be so gorgeous at five in the morning?” he slurs. You raise your eyebrows. He’s really always very flirty, and you’re used to it not being genuine by now. He sways out of bed and into the bathroom. You hear the running of a faucet, and sit down on a kitchen chair, checking your phone. Lily has blown it up. 

TO: REDHEAD

REDHEAD 7:31 p.m. sooo, how is he??

REDHEAD 7:43 p.m. hellooooo babes????

REDHEAD 8:00 p.m. are u ok ??

REDHEAD 8:05 p.m. ANSWER ANSWER ANSWER

REDHEAD 9:47 p.m. I’m calling sirius

REDHEAD 10:00 p.m. omg YES GO YOU OMG

5:30 a.m. what

5:30 a.m. he was playing the piano lils and i fell asleep 

REDHEAD 5:31 a.m. ok keep telling urself that <3 i mean has he ever let us sit in when we asked???

5:32 a.m. i told u he was acting strange 

You grin as you see some of the videos she has sent you. One is where James and her and celebrating, him beaming like he always does. She looks madly in love with him. You screenshot and send it to your email so you can print it out later. There’s another of Marlene and Dorcas doing the spaghetti thing at a Michelin star restaurant. They look as if they’re having a wonderful time. It makes you realise that you’re craving something like that too, only not in the wild world of Vegas. You already have something like it, but it’s so one-sided and your heart can’t stand it. You wish someone would just, dote on you. And genuinely, because there’s no way Sirius Black means it. 

You express these feelings to Marlene when she’s back, moving boxes and taping things up. 

“I want to love someone, Marls. Who loves me back, so don’t even say Sirius.”

“He doesn’t act like that around everyone else, you know.”

“He does! Besides, what makes me so special, Marlene? He could have anyone.”

She laughs, “Oh goodness have you got a lot to learn.”

–

Marlene and Dorcas invite you to their housewarming party in their house. They say it’s perfect for a family and they want to start one whilst they’re young. It’s quite a large gathering for a housewarming party, and the inside is buzzing with excitement. You’re talking to some of their colleagues- Alice and her boyfriend Frank on the couch. 

“And we’re planning a trip to Ibiza for next month,” she blinks up at him lovingly and he does the same. It makes you subtly raise your phone as if you’re getting a message and type, before quickly flashing a photo of them whilst they’re gazing into each other’s eyes. 

Sirius spots you grinning away, like you want what Alice and Frank have. He sidles in next to you.

“Hey darling,” he smiles and you smile back, “Hi.”

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Alice asks. 

“Oh of course! I thought you would already know him,” you put down your drink, “Alice, this is Sirius. Sirius, Alice. Frank, Sirius. Sirius, Frank. They’re planning a trip to Ibiza and were voted Best Couple in high school.” 

They’re both intimidated by Sirius, you can tell, but Sirius smiles, “Nice to meet you Alice and Frank. How long have you been together?”

They cheesily smile at each other, “Seven years and going strong,” Alice flashes her wedding ring. 

Marlene calls you over to the kitchen island, where she is mixing drinks up, “Hey darl!” 

“Sup, Marls.”

“Need a drink?”

“Just pink lemonade,” you hold out your cup. A boy comes around the table, smiling at you. Marlene smirks a little. 

“Y/n, this is CJ. He’s a footballer, and a damn good one.”

You grin, outstretching your hand, “Hi CJ, nice to meet you.”

He shakes it heartily, “Likewise.”

“What team do you play for?”

“Oh, just a local one,” he rubs his neck bashfully, “I’m not that good.” 

CJ, whatever it stands for, is handsome, with bright green eyes and curly brown hair. He’s sweet too and has this shy air around him that’s impossibly good natured. He’s Emmeline’s to-be lover.

“Try me.”

“Liverpool,” he says meekly. 

“Oh, you’re the Cruz Johnson! How’s football for a living?”

“It’s great, actually,” he chuckles, dipping his head to whisper secretly into your ear, “Though this beer is actually some recovery drink, so could be better.”

You laugh. 

He grins as he takes a sip and makes a funny face, “So what do you do?”

You tell him and he nods, “Impressive indeed. How’d you meet Marls here?”

“She and I were classmates! I wore her down eventually, she used to hate friendship.”

“Oh tell me about it. I met her at the football club, where she was playing for the ladies’ team. And the first time the coach tried to congratulate her she just rolled her eyes. He was filthy.”

“Oh?” your eyes are sparkling with mischief. 

“When he dislocated his cheekbone a few weeks later, she told him she could ski on them if she tried. Anyway.”

You purse your lips in amusement, “Am I allowed to laugh at that?”

“He looked like this,” Cruz makes a face and you giggle. 

Sirius is watching this all with a very sour look on his face, feeling very jealous. 

Cruz takes another sip of his drink, “So, who are you here with?”

You’re confused, “No one? I mean, unless you count Marlene, but she’s with Dorcas. And my friend Emmeline too.”

At the mention of Emmeline’s name, his eyes light up, “About her…”

“She’s single and she does like green eyes,” you pull him near the wily, tall Emmeline, who blushes shyly as she sees Cruz, “Besides, I think she has a thing for you. Ever since, you know, you crashed into her and spilled your coffee on her favourite shirt,” you joke. 

He blushes, “Gosh, you still remember that? Will you send me the name of the shirt so I can buy her five more? I know I already replaced hers but I still feel so bad.”

“Awh. That’s very nice of you, Cruz. Here,” you hand him your phone, “What’s your number?”

Sirius is watching you, hands tense around his cup. He decides to go up to you. 

“Hey darling,” he says lowly into your ear, making you jump and your cheeks heat up.

“Sirius!” you berate. Cruz is watching with a knowing smile as he hands your phone back. You quickly text him, “Okay, sent it.”

The two guys are sizing each other up. You can sense their hostility.

“Now, boys, be friendly. Cruz, do not worry, Sirius is only friends with Emmeline, and Sirius, don’t worry, Cruz won’t try to pick up Regulus.”

You feel both of them relax. Cruz grins at Sirius, “Nice to finally meet you, man.”

“You too!”

“And don’t worry, I don’t have feelings for her either.”

You’re silently eavesdropping on the conversation whilst texting Emmeline. You sneak a look at Sirius, who has an unnatural pink on his porcelain skin. 

“C’mon green-eyes, aren’t I obvious about it?”

Cruz agrees, “Too much so.”

“Anyway, I’ll let you get to Emmeline, Cruz.”

He stumbles, grins at you and waves at the same time, “Thanks, mate.” 

“No problems.”

You watch as he goes and makes a fool of himself in front of Emmeline, who likes it. You turn to Sirius, eyes still watching them. You’re still painstakingly lonely. Tonight you think you’ve third-wheeled at least three couples, and set up two. Even though Sirius is there, he’s just a constant reminder of what you can’t have. 

Sirius can see it in your eyes. He doesn’t know how much more he needs to do. Lily wants to know though. 

“Soooo, lovely,” she begins and you narrow your eyes at her. 

“I swear I didn’t take your cookie cutters and destroy them whilst trying to make clay sculptures with Emmeline and Cruz,” you put your hands up. Lily raises her brows and you murmur a quiet, “Oh no.” 

“My cookie cutters that you gave me?!” she yells. 

“It’s fine, I’ll get you new ones.”

She sighs, “Right. Anyway, Sirius Black.”

“Sirius Black,” you say slowly.

“Mhm. Are you ever going to tell him you like him?”

“No, I don’t even like him.” 

“You don’t?” Lily feigns surprise.

“Nope.”

“Is he cute?”

“Yeah.” 

“Is he nice?”

“Yeah.”

“Well?”

“He doesn’t like me like that, Lils,” you scold. 

“Why does he call you ‘darling’ then? He has to.”

“If he did, that would be embarrassing for him. Gosh knows he’s too good for me. If he likes me, I would question why because he could probably do better,” you shrug, “I’m confident, but not completely blind.” 

“Okay. So if he liked you, you would want to date him?”

You reply meekly, “Yeah.”

“I think you should tell him, though,” Lily sighs, “Better you than anyone else doing it.”

You ponder for a moment, “True,” you sigh, “He’ll be nice about it.”

Lily squeals, “I’m planning your wedding!!!” 

You knock on his apartment door, reconsidering for the last time whether you want to do it or not. 

Sirius opens the door, looking confused and handsome, eyes bluer than usual. 

“Hi,” you breathe. 

“Gorgeous, to what do I owe this sudden visit?”

“I just wanted to see you.”

“Really?” his eyes are glistening. 

“Yeah.” 

“Come in then. Mind the mess, taxes.”

You hum, “Need help?”

“Actually, yeah. Should I write off…”

You sit down, distracted by the papers flying everywhere, taking a pen and starting to write. Your mission is almost forgotten after you finish helping him with his taxes, smiling satisfiedly at the hefty return he receives. 

“Good,” you grin, admiring your work, “I’d say this is a successful tax file.” He swipes his tongue over his teeth, so attractively and seals the envelope, setting it down on his stack of things he needs to post. 

“Package to Marlene and Dorcas, papers to…” he rambles, pacing out his thoughts, “Oh, and my portfolio. Can you check if they’re alright to send in?”

“Portfolio?” 

“Oh,” he turns red, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, “Someone asked me to model for them?”

“When?” you gasp. He hands you the envelope, and you carefully pry out some photos. 

“A week ago,” he murmurs, “Can you check these aren’t too…much?”

They’re glossy between your fingers and smooth, candid shots, some staged and every single one of them belongs on the cover of Vogue. It’s strange, the pictures of Sirius should be in a magazine, famed and lovely, but he’s right here. Nervously fidgeting around. He’s so tangible right now. You reach out to skim your fingers over the photos, then stretch them out to touch the skin near his lips. He’s taken aback but leans into your touch.

“I think they’re perfect,” you fold the envelope over, handing it back to him. 

He’s still looking incredibly ashamed of himself.

“Why do you look so sheepish?” you laugh, “Stop that! It’s alright.” You surge to hug him, “It’s amazing, Sirius.”

Sirius hides his face in your neck, “I feel like a show-off,” he mumbles and you laugh. 

“Sirius, it’s honestly alright. You’re not, far from it actually. It’s okay to have nice things.”

“I’m sorry. I’m being a wimp.”

“It’s fine, I understand. These feelings are completely normal, but that doesn’t mean they’re true. If I had a staggering net worth of a few hundred million and never told you, would you think I’m a show-off?”

He shook his head. 

“Exactly,” you smile at him, “Now do you want to go to the post office? It closes in half an hour.”

He nods, “‘Kay.”

The post office man greets him with some flirting, and he sets down his stack of parcels, ignoring him to go sign some of them. 

He looks over to you, “You’re his…” he studies your face, “friend?”

It makes you feel small and judged. You chew nervously on your lip, unconsciously stepping towards Sirius. You know you couldn’t possibly pass off as his girlfriend, but it’s an ugly reminder you don’t need. Sirius smiles politely, “These three are in a letter card, but can we get them to be delivered…”

After he pays, you try not to make it seem like you’re in a rush to get out. He notices, of course he does. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“What did he say to you?”

You stay quiet and Sirius does too. He drives to his apartment and sits down on his couch. You follow. He’s silent. 

“He said something about us,” you break the fragile silence, “About me.”

“What?” 

“Well he looked at me and then asked if I was your friend after giving me a once-over.”

Sirius shrugs, “Aren’t you?”  

Your heart falls, “Well–. The thing is–, look, I’ve been meaning to tell you this, but I kind of– scratch that, I have this massive crush on you and probably more,” you wince, “Please be nice about this.”

He looks positively shocked. You can’t tell if it’s good shock or bad shock. 

You grimace, “And please can we stay friends?”

“You think I’m rejecting you?” he almost scoffs, lifting you easily into his lap. He’s so close you could count the colours in his eyes. A charcoal, a light cerulean, a tinge of yellow ochre, “After all my countless advances, the gifts, even inviting you into my piano room whilst I played, I couldn’t, sweetheart,” he says softly. 

“Haven’t you noticed I haven’t ever dated anyone since two years back? That I pretty much have been begging to be noticed by you these past years,” he continues, “All because I want to be yours. Because I couldn’t even think of wanting anyone else. I like you so much.”

“Hey Sirius?”

“Mm?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You already did.”

You huff, “Can I kiss you?”

Before you can do anything, he’s grinning as he presses his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss. When you break apart, he's still grinning. He thinks he will be for the rest of his life.

“Whoa,” you say as you grin at him. 

He hugs you tightly, “Please never say we should be friends again.”

You nod, “Never.” 

#sirius black x reader fluff #sirius black x reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black #sirius orion black #sirius black x you #sirius x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black fanfiction #sirius x reader #fluff #lily evans x reader #lily evans #x reader #harry potter #marauders #the marauders #padfoot #padfoot x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus john lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus x reader #hogwarts #gryffindor #james potter #reader insert #marlene mckinnon #dorlene

[alldevilsarehere90]

Title: Pretending Pairing: Daryl x Female Reader Summary: You'd been waiting long enough for Daryl to make it clear how he felt about you and now you were tired of waiting. Rating: 15+ (SFW) W/c: 1.6k Setting: Alexandria / Abandoned town Genre/Warnings: One shot / fluff / Romance / Friends to lovers / Bad language / slightly suggestive if you squint Prompts: "You wouldn't second-look me before the world went to shit, so don't pretend otherwise.' Requested by @ravenrose18  A/n: Tried to make this as fluffy as I could, I had to re-write it because I made it too angsty the first time, I can't help it, it's in my nature lol Enjoy

You'd had enough, enough of waiting for Daryl Dixon to make a move, enough of not knowing if he even wanted to. The mixed signals he gave you were sometimes enough to cause whiplash.

Your mind was made up, today was the day you would confront him and find out once and for all how he felt about you.

This morning, as you showered and got yourself ready to go on the run with him, you had been full of confidence, consumed by your plan and practising your confession repeatedly to yourself in the mirror. The words ran through your mind over and over, like a script you were trying desperately to memorise, as you head down the pathway leading to the gate. 

As soon as you spot him waiting for you however, your bravado runs off, abandoning you, leaving you feeling vulnerable and second guessing your decision. 

"Yer ready?" He asks, already seated on his motorbike and sends his cigarette shooting across the road with a flick as you approach him.

Nodding, you climb on, hands unsteady as they make their way around his waist. 

Your clammy palms lock together to keep yourself in place. His scent instantly claims your senses; tobacco and leather with an added note of something so him, you couldn’t put your finger on it but breathed it in and relished it just the same.

The gate opens and as soon as it's a wide enough exit, his hands move and you speed off, leaving Alexandria a blur behind you.

The wind whips through your hair, sending it flying wildly around your face. You enjoy feeling the cool air ripple against your skin, calming your nerves and clearing your mind. Before you knew it, you found yourself leaning your cheek on Daryl's back, closing your eyes, enjoying the closeness and warmth radiating from him but when you notice him stiffen under you for a brief moment, back muscles pulled taute against the softness of your face, you almost sit upright again before feeling him slowly relax back into the journey. 

But all too soon you had come to your destination and were forced to unwrap yourself from him. 

An abandoned town sat a fair few miles from Alexandria that had been discovered by the two of you on the way back from another run. It was getting dark when you came upon it previously and you were both tired and dirty and just wanted to get home. Investigating in the dark is never a good idea if it is not necessary.

You'd agreed to come back a few short days later in the daylight to explore it and here you were. Staying near him, eyes constantly surveying your surroundings, while Daryl hid the bike in the opening of the woods. 

The place seemed deserted, eerily so, with no sight of any one dead or alive. Odd but not unheard of.

You both get your weapons out ready and head into the surrounding buildings, searching one by one and finding a surprising amount of supplies and only a handful of walkers to deal with. It was shaping up to be a very successful run. And once you'd swept through the empty little town, taking anything you could use and putting it in your packs, you journeyed to the final building; a clothes store. 

You both grab standard clothes in different sizes so there could be something for everyone and fill up the last of the space in your packs in the process.

Wandering the store and surveying the racks looking for anything new and interesting, when you spot a black cowboy hat, taking it off the shelf and searching around the rails for your companion. You spot him pulling items off hangers and shoving them into his bag. Quietly walking up behind him and placing the hat on his head with a giggle.

"Why, howdy there partner, fancy seeing ya in these neck'a the woods." You mock, in a deep southern accent. He turns to you, smiling, that same smirk that you've grown to love so much and never fails to make your heart beat faster.

“Ma’am.” He nods, flicking the brim of the hat, attempting to join in with your playfulness. 

Your stomach quivers as you relish seeing this side of him, a side it seems only you can bring out. “Well, well, ya can take the boy outta the country but ya can’t take the country out the boy.” 

He scoffs and tosses the hat at you, managing to land it on your head. “Suits yer better.”

You hold the brim and incline your head, “thank yer, thank yer very much.” You say, spinning off towards another section of the store, hearing his quiet laughter causing butterflies to fly rampant inside you. 

A perfect cobalt blue sundress catches your attention and you head over to it. The material felt soft and thin against your fingers, perfect now the warmer weather was here. It wasn't until the sound of Daryl clearing his throat behind you, you realised he'd been watching.

"Why dun yer take it?" He asks, his bag full and slung over his shoulder.

Turning back to the dress, with your bottom lip caught between your teeth in hesitation, you shrug. "I've got no reason to wear it." You finger at the material one last time, admitting to yourself that you want it more because the colour matches Daryl's eyes than because of the way it feels. "What do you think?" You ask him, peeking at him slyly.

He shifts his weight to the other foot and picks at his nails. "Try it, see if yer like it" he nods his head towards the single dressing room.

You mull it over before agreeing that's probably best. If you don't feel good wearing it there's no point in taking it.

Shutting the door behind you as you enter the small space, you begin to remove your old clothes and slip the dress over your head. A little manoeuvring and smoothing the material down before you brave the mirror attached to the wall. You're not sure what you expected but it wasn't the sight that stared back at you. 

You looked pretty. You haven't felt pretty in…well, in a very long time. Seeing yourself in this dress, as silly as it sounds, made the world seem as if it hadn't ended and it was just another day out shopping for something new. You take a moment to adjust to this version of yourself in front of you before slowly opening the door and hesitantly exiting. Peering around outside where you'd left Daryl, only to be met with nothing but still, quiet space. 

"Daryl?" You whisper.

His face shot out in front of you, "yea," he replies, as he appears from inside the rack closest to the changing room. He laughs as you jump, clutching your chest but unable to help the grin stretching the corners of your mouth. Your hand playfully hit his chest, "you jerk." 

His smile drops as his eyes fall to your outfit and he takes a step back to really look at you. A red tinge blooms across his cheeks as his eyes roam over your body, more skin on show than ever in this strappy, short dress.

Your stomach flips at the way he’s looking at you, feeling more confident than ever in how he feels about you.

"So, what do you think?" You say, giving him a spin and in the process sending the dress flying up a little higher than you intended.

He clears his throat again, "s'nice." His voice more quiet and raspier than usual. You enjoy watching his adams apple bob up and down following the loud swallow.

There was only a few centimetres of space between you, his radiating heat made you painfully aware of his proximity.

Reaching forward, fingers in search of his and when you find them his eyes dart downwards at the unexpected touch but they respond quickly and entwine with yours. It was the confirmation you needed, bringing your other hand to tuck some of his long hair behind his ear. But he dips his head, taking his gaze away from you.

"Hey," you whisper, cupping his face and pulling him up to look at you. "If you don't feel the same, you can say." 

He scoffs. "If I dun feel the same?" He repeats in surprise. "I've wanted yer since the day we met."

Your heart jerks at his confession before galloping away your chest, part of its own solo race towards him but confusion spoils your happiness, not understanding as to why he seems so unsure. You wait with a questioning gaze on him, searching his eyes for answers.

Finally, he sighs, "Yer wouldn't second-look me 'fore the world went ta shit, so dun pretend otherwise."

You bring both your hands to either side of his face and wait until his eyes meet yours again. "Daryl Dixon, I can promise you, world ending or not, I would have second, third and fourth looked you."

His answering smile made you feel like you were getting through to him.

"No one is pretending here." You insist as your hands wind around his neck and you lean up on your tiptoes to be closer to his mouth. "I have waited and waited for you, Daryl. How about we don't waste anymore time?"

As soon as the last word passes your lips, his touch yours before you even have a chance to form your next thought. 

His hands come up to your face, cradling you softly and caressing the skin of your cheeks with his thumbs. Everything in this moment was gentle, loving and far more passionate than you'd envisioned. You held each other close with a lingering desperation lurking beneath the surface, something to be explored when you were both ready.

When you finally break apart, breathing hard and hearts pounding, he slides his hands down your sides to clasp yours.

"Here's ta not wasting time." He says into the silence, placing a quiet kiss on the back of your hand. "Come on, let's go home."

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #twd

[allophonicmess]

Uncanny Touch

Masterlist

You didn't get the chance to get acquainted with the new version of the doctor. So it's comes as a surprise when he suddenly wants the seduce you on a space ship at the end of the universe.

14th Doctor x reader + fake doctor x reader

Timelord!wife reader

Established relationship

1.5K Words

Angst

A little bit smutty

Written based on this request by @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 on my tumblr:

"Hello! I was wondering if you could do something angsty where Y/n prefers the fake Doctor over the real one? "

After the unconventional landing, the sudden disappearance of the Tardis, you finally arrived in the ship's cockpit. You let out a sigh of relief. Finally, some sense of control. Cockpits were good; you were trained on a Tardis type-60 but knew enough about other ships and transport systems to make an educated guess. "Okay, you two take a look at the other corridors.", you told them, sliding into the pilot's chair. You took a look at the pedals and screens in front of you. Was it built with a dual-slot engine? No, there would have to be a physical instrument to initiate ignition. Abduction core? Possibly, guessing from the symbols, there was a cooling system on the ship.

The Doctor and Donna had taken a step towards the cockpit's glass front, wondering about the edge of the universe. It was a strange concept: being at the end of everything. The thought made you shiver.

"Doctor." You called, making him step away from the glass and turn to you. "It looks like it utilizes cooler breaks. Could you go and look for any kind of cooling system?" You asked, still trying to figure out any of the written symbols.

You hadn't been able to figure out anything more than the basic number system that the Doctor had been able to translate.

"Any indication for power resources?" The Doctor leaned in next to you to take a look at the controls; he flipped through some of the slides and notifications that popped up on the screen. His hip was pressed against your knee; he didn't notice as he was too focused. But you did. You felt how warm his skin was. His heat slowly seeped into your leg, and you suddenly felt warmth rush to your face. You hadn't really touched, not in an intimate way.

But there had been no time to do so as you just popped up during the situation with the Meep. There was no time for rekindling, and you would have to wait a little longer judging the situation. "Um, no," You said softly. This position gave you the chance to finally take a better look at him.

He hummed, sliding back out between you and the screen. But not without letting his hand glide over your leg with just enough pressure to show you that his touch was deliberate. You sat up a little more straight, your eyes following his hand up to his arm and up to his face. He was looking at you with a kind smile. You huffed, reciprocating the playful sentiment. He let go, calling for Donna to follow him on his search for the ship's energy source and water system.

You stayed in the pilot's seat, trying to figure out possible syntax structures for the language you were presented with. It looked like nothing you had seen before. You were very familiar with circular writing systems, but this? Mysterious.

"Energy systems are controlled with base plate repetition filaments, Love." He informed you as he passed you on the corridor. "Ah, nice. And you gave Donna the pesky task of reenergizing them?" You asked, vaguely looking in his direction as he moved swiftly towards the other side of the cockpit. "Someone had to do it." He shrugged. He kept moving into the other room, his voice becoming muffled by the metal walls separating you. "And you had instructed me to look for a water system, no? Repetition filaments mean water spindles, so that's where I am going to solve my riddle of the day," He told you, his voice becoming smaller as he moved further into the room.

You huffed a laugh, once again focusing on the task at hand. You squinted your eyes, trying to find reoccurring elements in the symbols. Was there a word order? Did they even use words or was this a different kind of language. They may be phonemic creatures and somehow managed to create a written language.

"Whoa-"You gasped when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around you from behind. You realized it was the Doctor's.

You caught your breath, adrenaline rising in you from the sudden contact. You turned your head to look at him, but the seat's height made it impossible to look behind it.

"Are you done already?" You asked, genuinely surprised at his speed at work. He just hummed, his hands losing their pressure to slowly glide over your torso. You gasped softly at the intimate touch over your chest and belly. Was 14 going to be a touchy incarnation? Wandering hands and flirty interactions?

"I missed you." He said lowly, letting go of you, only to appear on your left. His hand was outstretched, asking you silently to take it. You studied his face for a moment. He had removed his glasses, and his dark eyes watched you with a strange energy behind them. You haven't seen him like this before. You glanced at his hand for a moment before accepting his invitation. He grinned, pulling you up quickly.

He was more substantial than you remembered, using a good amount of strength to pull you right into his chest. His grin widened, keeping you there, pressed into his front. It was new, unexpected. He had always been very levelheaded on past journeys and travels. But you couldn't get yourself to mind it very much. Not with the sudden rush you felt. He had always been romantic but never this… physically approaching.

"Hello, you." He chuckled, watching you hungrily. His right hand moved up to your chin, holding it in a firm grasp. You let out a breath, not noticing you held it. His thumb moved to your lower lip, pressing down on it and letting his finger glide over it.

"Doctor-"You gasped softly. You really wanted to tell him that you appreciated the new physical contact and were also looking forward to exploring his new form, but now, stuck with Donna on an empty ship and without a Tardis, wasn't the right moment to do so. Yet the mix of surprise and attraction made it impossible to say more than that. He chucked at your weak interjection. Letting go of your lip and letting it bounce back into place.

"Always humouring me." He whispered, grinning again, eyes moving to your lips and back up to meet your eyes. He pulled you forward to meet you in a passionate kiss, the hand on your cheek moved to your neck to hold you in place.

You gasped into the kiss when he slowly walked you backwards, turning you around so that he stood with his back to the chair.

"Taste so good." He growled, allowing you to catch your breath before letting himself fall into the pilot's chair. His left arm was still wrapped around you, making you follow his movement. You practically fell into his lap; you had enough sense not to stumble completely and sit down on his lap. Each leg was placed over his thigh as your knees bumped against the small armrests of the chair. He looked down at your position.

"Yes-"He groaned, pushing you closer with a hand against your lower back. His long fingers graced your ass, and suddenly, you didn't care so much about being stuck on a lost spaceship.

"My good girl." He hummed, going in for another kiss. He squeezed your side, nimble fingers moving under your shirt. He pulled down the neckline of your shirt, humming against your pulse.

"I've waited so long to finally have you again." The Doctor started kissing your pulse, moving towards your neck. You closed your eyes, intoxicated by him. His stubble rubbed deliciously against your skin, making you gasp.

"Doctor, we shouldn't…" But then his fingers hand found a way under your shirt. They were a bit cold, creating goosebumps as they danced over your back with gentle pressure.

"Mhm, and yet you enjoy it. You little rule-breaker." He sucked on that delicious spot where your jaw connected to your skull. His fingers had reached the claps of your bra. He kneaded the skin underneath them before unhooking them one by one. You knew that something was off. That the Doctor would never approach you like this, despite his playful and sometime unpredictable nature. But you realised with shock that you didn't care about that. Because this version of him gave you what you longed for.

"Donna?!"

"My little deserter." He pulled you closer to let his lips wander over your clavicle to go lower.

"What?" You opened your eyes, wondering if you were just hearing things. Did he just call you-

"You should have followed those orders, hmm?" He licked your neck, his hands moving to your front, just waiting to touch your-

"Donna, Love, are you there? Donna-"

Your eyes met. His emotions shifted quickly from confused to intrigued, triggered by that look of bliss and arousal on your face. But in the end, he just looked terrified as he noticed the familiar arms and white sleeves peeking out from underneath your shirt. Accustomed fingers massaging your flesh. And then that grin. He never knew he could look so terrorizing, grinning back at himself.

With you, gasping on the lap of the other him.

#doctor who x reader #fourteenth doctor #reader insert #the doctor x reader #dw specials #doctor who #wild blue yonder #fem!reader #timelord!reader #timelord #established relationship #14th doctor x reader #14th doctor

[chelseeebe]

crush.

a/n: hmm i wonder if you can guess what this is about? i have listened to this song an ungodly amount of times while writing this and i am literally obsessed. i rlly wanted to make this angsty n sad but eddie never gets a happy ending when i write him so decided against it hehe

no use of y/n! smut (18+) eddie is a bit of a douche but very much makes up for it in the end <3

eddie munson was trouble. but you knew that.

he was quite oddly proud of the fact his dad was in jail, facing the chair no less. having been shipped off to his uncle’s in hawkins when he first got sent down.

it was too much for his mom to juggle both him and his brother. especially as eddie was such a handful. she’d call him occasionally and they’d visit every christmas. she mostly called to tell him of his brother’s achievements. disappointed that he wasn’t academic like his big brother.

when he’d eventually graduated high school, third time lucky, he’d picked up a job at the local mechanic shop. learning from the older guys as he went.

your uncle owned the place so you’d be a regular visitor, it meant lots of fussing from his workers, something you basked in. they’d give you sneaky cigarettes and threaten to knock the head off of any guy that dared bother you. and in the summer you’d sit atop the low wall and share cold beers.

when eddie started, he’d seemed like he wasn’t the slightest bit interested in knowing anything about you. you’d assumed that he probably had a girlfriend.

not noticing how his eyes sneakily leered at your legs when you’d been turned away or how he’d try to hide his disappointment when you wouldn’t turn up.

but you watched from afar, noting his habits. when he’d go for a cigarette, long hair tied back with a green scrunchy, an artefact probably stolen from said girlfriend.

and when the summer came around and his sleeves got shorter, showcasing the jumble of tattoos on his defined arms, you were practically foaming at the mouth to get to know him.

you would never ever let him know. not unless he made the first move. and you stood by that.

then one day as summer drew to a close, bare legs swinging as you sat on the wall outside, he’d come up and stood next to you, holding out the box of marlboro reds.

‘y’want one?’ his own cigarette perched between his pink lips, one eyebrow cocked.

you silently take a cigarette, placing it in between your lips and holding your hand out for the lighter. he does one better, taking the lighter from his pocket, flickering the flame and lighting it for you.

it takes every bone in your body to stay upright and not collapse into a pile of mush. your stomach fluttering at the intimacy, his callous hands only inches from your mouth.

you’d thought about his thumbs and how perfect they’d feel running along your lips.

he leans back against the brick, cleaning his oil stained hands on some old rag, taking a long drag, blowing the smoke out of the side of his mouth.

‘you doing anything tonight?’ he asks, squinting as the setting sun glares into his eyes, the orange glow beautifully cascading on his features.

‘hmm.. no,’ trying hard to act as casual as possible, though your heart was practically bursting from your chest.

‘my band’s playing the hideaway tonight, you should come,’ he smirks, grey smoke blowing out of his mouth with every word.

‘your band?’

‘yeah.. i play the guitar, sing a little.. we’re good i promise,’ flicking the cigarette to the pile of other butts at the entrance.

the mention of the guitar is enough to convince you, not that you needed much. filthy thoughts crowding your mind, watching as he pushes himself from the wall, standing in front of you.

‘i might come down, what time are you on?’ you ask, throwing your cigarette into the pile next to his.

‘we’re on at nine,’ he nods, beginning to walk back into the warehouse, ‘i’ll see you tonight.’

his assertiveness makes your cheeks flush, dipping your head and grinning at your lap hoping your uncle hadn’t noticed your conversation.

you do go. obviously.

making sure your skirt is appropriately rolled up, ripped fishnets adorning your legs and enough eyeliner to resemble a raccoon.

it doesn’t go unnoticed by eddie, or anyone really. the grubby old drunks sleazing around you, questionable touches and frankly inappropriate comments. eddie’s eyes stay firmly planted on you throughout, darkening as you stare back at him.

it’s no shock when you find yourself pressed against the rough back wall of the hideout, one of eddie’s hands beside your head, the other creeping underneath your skirt, mouths colliding in a sloppy kiss.

hungry for more as you cling onto his neck, his fingers skirting eerily close to your already wet cunt. you can feel him smirking against your mouth when you buck your hips in response.

‘you coming back to mine?’ he mumbles between kisses, the hand on the wall moving to caress your cheek, rough palms holding the heated skin.

you nod enthusiastically, pressing your body against his, still trapped between him and the wall. he pulls back, eyes glinting with the street lamp. pupils dilated with utter lust, thumb tracing along your swollen lips just like you’d once pictured.

the drive back to his trailer is torture, both of you too frustrated to make conversation. the aching feeling between your legs worsening when his hand reaches over, resting on your thigh. the worst part is that he knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing.

soft squeezes as you press your thighs together, willing for the road to somehow shorten.

you practically jump on him the second you walk through the door, pressing him against whatever solid surface you crash into first. hands desperate to touch him, pulling the holey band shirt up and over his mop of hair.

calloused hands nipping at your thighs as they travelled beneath your skirt. leading you backwards into what you assumed was his room, his tongue making lazy contact with yours when he misjudges the placement of the door, smacking straight into the wall.

he takes this as an opportunity to swap your positions, pushing you backwards into the small room. hands gripping your ass when you stumble into the corner of the bed, tumbling backwards and bringing him down on top of you.

you’re not even properly kissing at this point, breathing heavily as he’s poised above. he pulls back, moving you up the bed with ease, arms slung around his neck.

‘you’re insane,’ he breathes, mattress dipping on either side of your head as he holds himself up, eyes wandering from yours down to your exposed chest, tits peeking out of the tiny top you’d chosen.

‘you gonna do anything? or you just gonna stare?’

he goes from incredibly stoic and admiring to an large grin, no hesitation in lifting the shirt over your head. throwing it somewhere on the cluttered floor as his lips find yours again, spare hand finding the warmth between your legs.

your fingers fiddle with his large belt buckle, rutting your hips upwards, trying to get his hand to something. anything other than just sit there. frustrated with the speed in which he was moving, he grins into your mouth, finding your desperation amusing.

‘christ you’re needy,’ ever-so-slowly hooking his fingers into the waistband of the lacy underwear you’d work just in case, pulling them down with a harsh tug.

‘i’m going home if you don’t hurry up,’ you threaten, though it was empty.

his hand taking place of yours and unhooking his own belt, ‘no you’re not,’ he laughs and you can feel the tent in his jeans rub against your now bare cunt.

the anticipation in your stomach bubbling, eager to have him inside of you. the movement of your own hips doing nothing to help as they move upwards against him, legs wrapped tight around his back.

he pulls his jeans off antagonising and slow, relishing in watching you squirm beneath him, trying to find any relief in the little he was giving you. kicking off the black skinny jeans onto the floor, peering down between your bodies.

his fingers had found their way back between your legs, teasing your sopping hole with his index finger. dipping in but never enough.

a groan rumbles from your throat, ‘please.. just- fuck,’ panting when his middle finger joins the tormenting of your cunt, absolute putty in his hands.

‘ask me nicely,’ he demands, a wide smirk already plastered on his face when you look up at him, pupils blown out and wild.

you can tell he was just as desperate as you were, but taking extra pleasure in getting you begging for him.

‘please.. please fuck me,’ you swallow, eyes closing as you feel his leaking tip circle around your slick entrance.

‘that’s better,’ he quips before pushing himself in, breath hitching in his throat as your legs clamp around him, pulling him in.

‘h-holy shit,’ he murmurs, slowly moving his hips, willing himself not to fucking come already, your whines doing him absolutely no favours.

you slide your hands from his neck to his shoulders, nails digging into the moist skin when his pace quickens. eyes drooping shut when his thumb meets your clit, drawing small circles around the sensitive nub.

the undeniable sounds of your body meeting his full the room, soft cusses flooding out of his mouth when your hips move against him, urging him to move faster.

‘jesus.. you’re so.. uh, fuck you’re so perfect,’ stammering through deep breaths, even the feel of your soft thighs around his waist were fucking him up.

he braved looking down, the vision of your cock drunk face and soft moans, pushing him towards his orgasm. your eyes fluttering when he hits the soft, spongy spot inside, thumb unforgiving around your clit.

‘right there,’ you mewl, hurtling towards your own orgasm, stomach tightening and your legs trembling with every erratic thrust, his own attempt to get you there before him.

‘oh my god,’ you whine as the coil snaps, white-hot pleasure exploding behind your eyes, clawing onto the skin of his shoulders.

his thrusts stutter as your walls clench around him, thick ropes of come painting your insides as he collapses on top of you, mouth open as he rides out his high still inside.

you finally open your eyes, running soothing hands along his back, catching your own breath. cheeks warm and painted a sweet shade of red.

eventually coming back to earth, he rolls over onto the spare side of the bed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. pushing the long black hair back and out of his face.

he stays like that for a few moments, basking in his euphoria. you sit up, and reach down for your discarded shirt, holding it to your bare chest.

he peeks over, ‘you’re going?’ sounding almost disappointed.

you look back over your shoulder at him and shrug, wasn’t that what he wanted? most men would. in fact, they’d dress you themselves if it would get you out of there quicker.

‘you can stay y’know.. was kinda hoping we’d do that again like, at least twice,’ smirking as his fingers toy with the hem of your skirt.

‘okay,’ lips twitching into a smile, falling back onto the bed when his hand tugs on your hip, pulling you into his warm chest.

-

thus started whatever the hell it was you had going on now. not quite a relationship but enough to be spending half of your time with him. both at the shop and not. many nights spent watching corroded coffin, an unholy amount of black sabbath covers.

you come to learn that eddie regards ozzy osbourne as a hero. someone he tries to style his entire life around. it pisses you off no end when he jumps off the tiny stage at the hideout and onto a crowd of old drunks.

scalding him afterwards for being so stupid because one day they won’t catch him.

‘darling, one day the crowd’ll be so big, you won’t have to worry about it,’ he laughed, throwing his arm over your shoulder.

it’s not long before everyone in the garage figures out exactly what’s going on. your uncle expressing his clear disdain for the new relationship. threatening a passive eddie with a dull screwdriver the second he clocks on.

‘i’m telling you now, that i will kill you if i have to.’

the sight alone makes you collapse into a fit of laughter, eddie’s eyes wide with his hands up in defeat. chuckling himself when your uncle walks away.

one night, you’re sat waiting for eddie to finish fucking about with some motorcycle. your uncle tapping his foot impatiently.

‘i can lock up if you wanna go home,’ you offer, leaning against the uncomfortable metal desk.

‘yeah i do,’ throwing the heavy keys at you, glaring over to eddie, ‘no funny business, and i mean it.’

you smile, placing the keys on the desk next to you and watching as eddie emerges from beneath the bike, hiding his mischievous grin by biting down onto his bottom lip.

‘don’t you fucking dare,’ he warns, pointing at eddie as he walks towards his own car, shaking his head.

‘yessir,’ eddie calls after him, receiving an annoyed honk in response as he hightails out of there.

so when you’re sat atop the old, dusty cadillac just mere minutes later with your legs wrapped around his waist, you giggle into eddie’s mouth.

‘what’s funny?’ he mumbles, hand travelling down your waist, awfully close to the waistband of your jeans.

‘he’s serious, y’know?’ placing your hand on top of his, stopping it from going any further.

‘good,’ his lips sloppily connecting your yours, quickly swapping the position of your hands so his is perched on top, moving both of them down and past your waistband.

‘you’ll get us both killed,’ gasping as he makes your hand brush against your already soaked hole, feeling his grin in the crook of your neck.

‘he’s not gonna find out,’ he utters, softly sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin.

you go to protest but you’re taken into shock when one of his fingers enters the slick hole, your hand flying out from beneath his to clutch onto the back of his neck.

‘you want me to stop?’ he teases, moving his finger antagonisingly slow, thumb tapping on your clit.

you shake your head no, leaning back and shifting your hips forward along the hood of the dusty car, the metal creaking beneath you.

instinctively throwing your head back when he slides in another finger, the other hand digging into your waist, sure enough to leave a bruise in the morning.

‘holy shit,’ you breathe, feeling his growing erection brush against your thigh, ‘fuck me,’ you beg, immediately going against everything you’d said earlier.

‘huh? what was that?’

your hips writhe against his fingers, ‘fuck me,’ pleading for more than he was currently giving.

he pulls his hand from your jeans, smirking when he goes back in to kiss you, yanking your jeans and panties down around your thighs in one fell swoop.

‘now who’s the one begging for it?’ he groans, struggling with his own jeans, eager to disgrace the poor rusty old car.

the bonnet makes a loud clunking sound from underneath and you seemingly sink into the metal. you and eddie stare at each other, wide-eyed and frankly terrified. neither of you brave enough to look at the inevitable dent your ass had just made.

collapsing into a fit of giggles when eddie lifts your body, mumbling a chorus of shits and fucks, preparing to lose his life to the hands of your pissed off uncle.

-

‘why the fuck do you have a gun?’ you screech, holding onto the metal door of the locker for stability.

you’d only gone in there in search of his cigarettes, not expecting to find a fucking glock chilling in his tattered old rucksack.

he rushes over, dropping the spanner with a loud clatter, ‘hey hey.. shh, why are you going through my bag?’ his face screwed up as you turn to face him, stern faced.

‘i’ll ask you again, why do you have a fucking gun, eddie?’ wildly throwing your hands about, trying to amplify your point.

his large hand grabs wraps around your wrists, pulling them down out of his face, ‘it’s not mine.. i’m just.. holding it for a friend,’ he peeks around the door, making sure nobody had heard your screaming.

after meeting his friends, you’re sure it’s true. a group of dope slingers who had no regard for their lives, or anyone else’s for that matter.

‘so you thought bringing it to work was a good idea?’ you fume, trying to wriggle your arms free from his grasp.

‘i forgot it was in there, look, it’s not mine, alright? it’s going back tomorrow,’ he looks angry, brows knitted together, jaw tense.

you already worried about him enough. sometimes he’d go m.i.a. for a few hours and you just knew he was somewhere chasing after that group of pricks. he’d sworn to you that he’d never touched that shit, sticking to strictly weed and occasional ketamine.

‘he’ll fucking kill you if you bring that shit here,’ referencing your uncle who was only in the other part of the garage. your hands still trapped in his grip.

‘i forgot,’ he huffs, anger easing as you soften your gaze, realising that your frustration wasn’t so much with him, ‘i’m sorry, alright? it’s not mine- i don’t think it’s even been used.’

you jut out your bottom lip, exhaling sharply from your nose, ‘i don’t care.. just, just don’t bring all that in here.. my uncle’s a good man- i don’t want him involved in your shit.’

‘i know,’ he nods, ‘i know, i’m sorry.. yeah? i promise it’s gone tomorrow,’ eyes searching your face for any sign of forgiveness.

‘okay.. whatever,’ you blink up at him, ‘you can let go of me now.’

‘kiss me and i’ll think about it,’ his frown quickly turning into a smirk.

‘get away from me, you stink,’ faking disgust as you turn your head to the side, trying to conceal your own smile creeping onto your face.

‘shut up,’ he mutters, attacking your exposed neck with a million kisses, eliciting a loud shriek as he pushes you back into the lockers, the metal banging as your back collides with it.

‘not in the fucking garage,’ your uncle rounds the corner, pissed that he’d been subjecting to such a sight.

eddie lets go immediately, wiping his sweaty forehead, unknowingly smearing black shit all over the skin. you lean back against the locker, apologising to your uncle with your eyes.

he aggressively tosses his rag at eddie, ‘clean yourself up, you look like a fuckin’ idiot,’ before getting back to tinkering with some car.

-

eddie had somewhat always regarded himself as a hero. needing to constantly save people, throw his weight around when necessary. or completely unnecessarily, as you’d see it.

you usually rolled your eyes and pulled him away. but tonight it hadn’t worked.

and he’d got his ass absolutely handed to him by a group of men in some new bar you were trying. one of them had come up to you, a little drunk and far too handsy. nothing you couldn’t handle on your own.

but eddie had had to get involved, shoving the drunk backwards into the bar, crashing into the rest of his pals gathered around.

so one of them threw a punch, connecting with his jaw, sending him reeling backwards. he’d tried to hold his own, pushing you away in the middle of the chaos.

you’d had to step in the middle when the men had circled around him on the floor, all leather jackets and raging testosterone levels. rather pathetic.

you stayed silent for the entire walk back to his trailer. eddie trailing along, clutching his already bruised cheek.

‘i’m sorry,’ he calls from a few paces behind, groaning as he walked. you ignored it, pressing on until you reached the trailer park.

you stand behind as he unlocks the door, sulking because of his impulsive actions. well deserved, you thought.

as soon as you’re inside, he turns to face you, ‘can you just speak to me?’ pouting, putting on his sickening puppy dog eyes.

you just want to rip his head from his shoulders, it wasn’t like he used his brain much anyway. you shove his chest, ‘sit down.’

he complies, perching on the sofa and still feeling sorry for himself as you grabbed the antiseptic and the cotton pads from the bathroom. walking back into the room with a worthy scowl on your lips.

you sit next to him, slightly too harsh as you turn his face towards you. dousing the cotton wool in the smelly liquid, pressing it to his cheek.

sucking the air in between his teeth and gripping onto the soft sofa, ‘jesus fuck,’ he curses, but stays sat still, too scared of what you’d do if he dared move.

‘serves you right,’ you hiss, dabbing the cotton on the wound, ‘i owe you a fucking black eye for that shit.. i’ve told you, i don’t need you to start throwing fists for me.’

he places his hand on your arm, eyes sad as they gaze up at you, ‘i know.. but he was fuckin-,’ stopping whatever he was about to say when your eyes meet his, glaring at him.

‘yeah, he was a creep.. but i can handle it, eddie,’ running your finger over his split lip, garnering a wince from eddie.

‘yeah,’ admitting defeat with a soft squeeze of your arm, ‘i’m sorry,’ eyes glimmering with hope when your face softens, not able to stay mad at him for very long.

‘mhm,’ tossing the now-red cotton ball onto the small coffee table, ‘does it hurt?’ locking eyes with him once more.

‘only a little.’

you pause briefly, ‘thank you.. for protecting my honour or whatever, but i can handle that shit without you.’

he doesn’t reply verbally, but his eyes glint, lips curling into a small smile. he doesn’t need to say it. you know exactly what that look means. unspoken but you can feel it so deeply.

it’s exactly why you felt so sick watching him essentially get jumped. why your heart stang when he hadn’t got back up.

‘i know you can,’ breaking the silence, fingers still curled around your arm.

you exhale, giving in completely, ‘well, at least you look super tough now.,’

‘y’think so?’

‘mhm, sexy too,’ once again tracing over the small cut on his lip, pulling his lip down with your thumb.

his eyes glisten with infatuation, the simple action already driving him crazy. gazing at you through long eyelashes and praying to god you’d always be here to clean his wounds.

-

you hadn’t realised you’d dozed off to sleep until the creaking of the trailer door jolts you awake. you’d got tired of waiting for eddie, who had promised to be back before eleven. telling you it’d be fine to just go straight to his, wayne wouldn’t mind.

the dusty alarm clock flashed 3:30, hours after he’d told you he’d be there.

the floorboards creak and there’s hushed whispers from the living room that you can just about vaguely make out as something along the lines of, ‘shit, sorry.’

‘what the hell are you doin’? she’s been in there waiting for you all fuckin’ night.’

‘i know.. sorry for waking you uncle wayne, night.’

you close your eyes again before eddie’s bedroom door opens and he creeps into the room. you brace, waiting to see if he’ll acknowledge your presence.

‘you awake?’ he calls out quietly, shimmying out of his denim jacket.

‘yep.’

‘i’m sorry i’m late.. i got caught up,’ you can hear him rustling about, stepping around the shit on his floor to get to the bed.

he sits on the few inches of mattress between you and the edge, reaching his arm out to find your body resting his hand on your exposed arm.

‘where the fuck have you been?’ you glower at him, his shitty plastic blinds letting in just enough of the bright moon to illuminate his face.

‘i was with rick.. i didn’t realise what time it was,’ kicking his shoes off onto the old carpet.

‘don’t lie to me eddie.’

he sighs and you can see his eyes drop, knowing he’d already been caught out, anything he tried to say now was futile.

‘alright,’ thumb stroking your goosebump filled arm, trying to keep you docile enough to tell you the full story, ‘promise you won’t get mad?’

you brace, waiting for the horrible truth of how he’d been with some girl, that this was pointless and you should get the fuck out of his bed. you nod, perhaps not really meaning it.

‘right..’ he bites down on his bottom lip, shuffling to face you, ‘rick uh, got into some shit, needed some cash to get out of it.. you really can’t get mad, alright?’

‘i won’t, just tell me,’ reaching out to latch your finger into the silver chain hanging from his belt loop, now knowing that at least this had fuck all to do with you.

he swallows, finding your eyes in the darkness, ‘we robbed that corner store down on seventh.. it was a one time thing, yeah? these people he was fucking with are bad news, we had to,’ he scrabbles to justify himself to you.

‘what?’

‘i said you can’t get mad.’

‘i’m not mad.. is that what that fucking gun was for?’

‘no- well, i dunno.. he had it on him but he didn’t use it, promise,’ hand sliding up your arm to caress your cheek.

‘how much did he need? jesus christ eds, i wish you’d just told me,’ you pout, picturing him in some crazy western-style shootout in the tiny corner store.

‘i know, i’m sorry.. i didn’t want you getting involved, it’s done now, no more,’ thumb pressed against your temple drawing small lines on your skin.

‘okay,’ you nod, not quite believing him but having to suffice with what he was giving. you didn’t like to think about the shit he got up to with rick, better left in the dark for the sake of your sanity.

‘y’gonna let me in? s���fucking freezing out here.’

you oblige, shuffling across the bed and lifting the blanket for him to crawl under. he quickly gets out of his jeans, throwing his t-shirt somewhere on the ground before getting under the blanket.

his cold arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into his chest. you shiver under his touch, sighing when your head touches his skin.

‘m’sorry,’ he mumbles into the top of your hair, ‘i’m all yours tomorrow.’

you mutter a small, ‘good,’ nestling into his hold, slowly dropping off to sleep, comforted by his warm arms.

-

eddie was absolutely furious. you hadn’t even meant to say it, at least not in the way it had came out.

he was being a dick again, showing off at the bar after you’d already told him you wanted to go home. but he wasn’t listening. and ended up with the swollen cheek to show for it.

‘how many times do i have to tell you that you can’t just fucking fight people because they were rude to you once?’ you huff, gripping onto the steering wheel.

‘i’m sorry, okay? you could’ve gone home.. i would’ve been fine on my own,’ he counters, rubbing his sore cheek, slumped down in the passenger seat.

you scoff, ‘yeah, looked like it,’ rolling your eyes as you’d had to pull him off of the floor once more.

‘jesus christ, it’s not that deep, i’m alive.. you’re alive, just leave it,’ fed up, with his ego slightly bruised, he didn’t mean to snap but tonight had pissed him off too.

‘you’re gonna end up dead.. or just like your dad, is that what you want?’ you’d immediately regretted it, the words sounded foreign leaving your mouth.

‘is that what you think i am? see, you think you know me, know my dad.. but you haven’t got the slightest idea what it’s like,’ he spits back, face screwed up in frustration.

‘i didn’t- i didn’t mean it like that,’ you plead, sneaking brief looks at his aggravated face.

‘d’ya know what? let me out here, i’ll walk.’

‘eddie.. i’m sorry please ju-,’

‘let me out of this fucking car,’ he hisses, already pushed past his limit.

you oblige, pulling over on the dark road. you weren’t far from the trailer park but it’d be at least a twenty minute walk and it was pitch black.

‘it’s dark, will you be okay?’ but you’re cut off with a slam of the door, he’s already stormed off into the woods before you can even think about locking the doors and trapping him inside.

you’d honestly thought he wasn’t being serious. an empty threat. biting down onto your bottom lip, internally debating whether to go out into the woods and drag him back.

the thing is, eddie knew the woods, had used them as a shortcut to get home for years, whereas you’d merely driven past on the way to his. there was no use in going out there with no flashlight and ending up lost.

so you turn the car around, driving towards your own house for once. you’d see him at the garage tomorrow. he’d have calmed down and you can weasel your way back into his good books.

except, he doesn’t turn up for work the next day.

your stomach flips when your uncle comes banging around the corner expecting eddie to be trailing behind.

‘where is he?’

‘what? he’s not here? i don’t- i don’t know, we uh,’ you stop yourself, ‘i stayed at home last night.. i thought he’d be here,’ mind racing, already thinking of what terrible things could’ve happened in those creepy woods.

‘he hasn’t turned up, y’wanna tell him that if he’s sick i need a phone call, something.. he doesn’t get off just because you two are messin’ about,’ he points his blackened finger at you, walking back into the garage shaking his head.

you don’t even make it fully into the warehouse, turning on your heel back to your old car and speeding out of there. you’d check the trailer first and then make the treacherous journey through the woods.

when you drive up the gravel, you can see his van isn’t parked outside in it’s usual spot. okay, maybe he went out. or was just late to work. at least you know he’d made it back and wasn’t still in the woods somewhere.

you still knock on the grimy door, knowing that wayne would probably just be waking up.

the door swings open and he looks positively fuming until he sees it’s you, ‘oh, y’alright doll? early isn’t it?’

‘hey wayne, is eddie home? he didn’t turn up for work so i’m just.. wondering if he’s okay..’ you swallow loudly, knowing damn well he wasn’t in there.

‘no.. no he went out last night, seemed pretty pissed off so i didn’t bother to ask- you okay? y’look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ he looks genuinely concerned, holding onto the plastic rim of the door.

‘we had an argument and he stormed off,’ tears welling in your eyes.

‘yeah i figured, i’m sure he’s alright.. sometimes he just needs to calm down for a while, don’t let it worry you,’ he adds, the sentiment was nice but your heart was thudding.

you weren’t even officially together for fuck sake. but you at least knew how you felt about him and had a small inclination that he felt similarly. maybe you’d fucked it for good. he had no real loyalties to you, what was stopping him from running off and never speaking to you again.

‘okay,’ you nod, blinking rapidly so to hide your tears, ‘can you please tell him to call me if, or when he gets back?’

‘sure thing sweets, i’ll see you later,’ he waves before closing the door.

you traipse off back to your car, thinking of a list of places he could possibly be. a handful of them being immediately crossed off as it was the middle of the morning.

-

it’s almost evening before you think to check rick’s house. having driven around all day looking at his usual spots for him, asking everyone if he’d been there or if they knew where he could be.

it was only at the hideout where one of the girls behind the bar suggests rick’s with a chuckle.

eddie had stopped by rick’s before, you’d stayed in the van though and he’d disappear inside before emerging with a ton of weed and a shit eating grin on his face.

you can spot his van the second you round the corner. feeling the relief wash over you the second you know he’s actually still alive and in hawkins. then the feeling of guilt is replaced by rage. annoyed that you’d driven the entirety of this shithole town and he’d just been here getting high the entire time.

there’s a small second in which you debate if going up and banging on the door was actually a good idea or if it’d just cause more problems.

you do it anyway, parking next to his van and walking up the wooden steps to the massive house. a muffled thumping of music gets louder as you approach. they probably wouldn’t even hear you.

but you knock, waiting patiently for someone, hopefully eddie, to answer.

the door opens, revealing a skinny, tousled man who you’d never seen before, he stares at you, mouth open for what feels like minutes.

‘is eddie in there?’ you ask, staring back at the strange man.

‘yeah, two seconds,’ he mumbles before closing the door, hopefully going to get the man. you couldn’t be sure he even knew what you said.

the door opens again a few moments later, looking rather disheveled, eyes wild and still in the same clothes he’d skulked off in last night. he stinks of a mixture between booze and weed, hair hanging limp around his face.

‘woah hey, what are you doing here?’ sounding genuinely confused, not the reaction you’d imagined.

‘well, you didn’t show up for work.. i wanted to know if you were alright,’ you shrug, suddenly feeling stupid for even stalking him this badly.

‘shit, yeah.. i was s’posed to call, i forgot,’ he steps out onto the porch, closing the door round behind him, ‘you came all the way out here to find me?’

‘yeah,’ you say quietly, just realising how much of a crazy bitch you must seem.

‘eddie!’ a female voice calls from inside the house. you look between him and the door as she peers round the door, a pretty girl, someone else you’d never seen before.

your heart sinks.

‘oh shit.. sorry,’ she grimaces, ‘i just wanted to know if you were coming back in?’

‘just give me two minutes, alright?’ he glares at her as she holds her hand up in apology before going back into the house.

that blind rage you’d felt pulling up the house reappears and you’d love to reach across and slap his now-very purple cheek.

‘that’s not- that wasn’t what you think it was,’ he pleads, noticing your clenched jaw and balled up fist.

‘yeah i’m sure it wasn’t,’ you add sarcastically, ‘i can see that you’re perfectly fine so i’m gonna go ahead and leave, you have fun,’ heart beating out of your chest as you turn around and walk down the wooden steps.

he’s already hot on your tail, ‘can you just- baby listen to me,’ calling out from a few paces behind.

‘get fucked,’ you spit, trying to get into your car before he could reach you.

he’s grabbing at your arm the second the cars unlocked, ‘listen to me,’ you’re spun around to face him before you can even register what’s going on.

‘what? what are you gonna say? you don’t owe me anything, eddie.. you can do whatever you want,’ your throat burning from the untruthful words.

‘i haven’t-,’ he sighs, collecting himself before continuing, ‘i wanted to piss you off a little, so i came here and then me and rick got into some shit and i lost track of time, i’m sorry,’ fingers beginning to dig into your arm, afraid that if he loosened his grip you’d run away.

‘so who’s your little girlfriend?’ sounding far more jealous than you’d perhaps liked.

‘that’s fucking rick’s girlfriend, i don’t even know her name,’ he pleads, his bottom lip jutted out in his best puppy dog impression.

you swallow, hardly believing him, ‘right, even if that was true, it wouldn’t matter.. you’re single, i’m single, you can do whatever you want,’ shaking your arm as a last ditch attempt to get him off of you and get away.

his face falls, he’d fucked up before, sure. but not to the extent where you wouldn’t be kissing all over him moments after he apologised. or where you’d outwardly expressed your lack of an official title.

it wasn’t like he wasn’t aware that you weren’t exactly official. he just always assumed that there was an understanding that you two were together, but not really.

‘you’re not serious? i fucked up, i know. but i haven’t fucked her- or, or anyone else for that matter.’

his fingers loosen and you take that as your opportunity to yank your arm away, opening the car door and getting halfway in when his hand slams onto the metal, stopping you from closing the it.

‘get off of my car,’ you glare, your hand gripping the handle as you argue with him.

‘i’m trying to talk to you, you won’t even give me that?’ he begs, knuckles white as he’s losing the battle against the door.

‘i have nothing to say to you,’ you spit, using your other hand to gain leverage, he relents and you slam the door shut. shoving the key into the ignition before speeding off out of the long driveway.

eddie stands there gormless for a minute. staring as your car disappears into the distance. he kicks his boot into a pile of leaves, cursing as the front door opens and rick peers round having heard the entire argument from his front room.

he argues against getting into his van and chasing after you but he’s still well over the limit and you’d only be more pissed off if you knew.

-

you must’ve passed out at some point, exhausted from the rage and pain of it all. not even bothering to crawl under your blanket, just in a heap on one side of your bed.

the window slides open, forcing you out of your slumber. a string of curses come from the other side of your room and then a small thud as whichever crazy psychopath makes their way into your room.

you bolt upright, eyes adjusting to the dark room. just about making out the silhouette of the man. the undeniable curly hair making it rather easy to decipher who it is.

‘shit,’ he mumbles, feeling his way through the room towards your bed, tripping on something on the floor, he hadn’t noticed you sit up.

you switch the lamp on, squinting as the light fills the room. looking like a deer in headlights as he pauses, frozen as you glare over at him.

‘what the fuck are you doing?’ you hush, knowing your dad was definitely fast asleep just down the hall.

‘i didn’t wanna wake your dad up,’ he looks down at the floor to see what was caught around his foot and then back at you, ‘i need to-,’ he looks down again, realising exactly what he’d tripped over, ‘is that my fucking shirt?’ he picks the torn up piece of fabric off of his boot.

you’d hacked at the metallica shirt with a pair of rusty scissors, now in multiple pieces strewn across your floor. the scissors dumped somewhere next to your bed.

‘you cut up my shirt?’ he asks, bewildered, the black cotton just dangling from his fingers as he walks over to the bed.

‘no,’ a blatant lie, ‘the dog ate it,’ shrugging innocently.

he’s in disbelief but his lips twitch, turning into a smirk, dropping what was left of his shirt back onto the floor, ‘you’re fucking crazy, you know that?’ now towering over you beside the bed.

‘you’re a fucking asshole, you know that?’ you refute, still so infuriated with him.

‘yeah, i do,’ he sits on the empty half of your bed, ‘that’s why i’m here,’ eyes full of hope, the exact opposite to how you’d left him just hours prior.

‘you’re here to tell me that you’re an asshole? could’ve saved yourself a trip, i’m already well aware of that.’

‘are you gonna shut up and listen to me?’

you scowl at him but keep your mouth shut, nodding to get him to carry on.

‘i’m here because i- hm,’ he tenses, moving up the bed, his hands cupping both of your cheeks, needing your full attention, ‘because i fucking love you, yeah?’

his brown eyes search your face for a response when you don’t answer, hands slowly releasing their grip on your skin. maybe it was too little too late, had he fucked any chance at making things right?

you take a minute to read his face, trying to determine if he was just trying to weasel his way back into the comfortable position he was in with you.

when his face rightly falls due to your lack of an answer, you finally croak out a small, ‘you do?’

his hands squeeze the fat on your cheeks, relieved to hear something come out of your mouth, ‘of course i do,’ he looks slightly offended that you’d even question the legitimacy of what he’d said.

so you lunge forward, crashing your lips to his, grinning against his cheek as your lips connect in a chaotic kiss. his body falling backwards onto the mattress as your torso collides with his, holding himself up with one hand.

‘holy fuck,’ he mutters into your mouth, clinging onto your jaw for some stability.

you pull away, eyes glimmering as you gaze up at him, ‘i love you too,’ twisting your face into a satisfied smile.

uncaring if your dad could hear, forcing him backwards onto your mattress, clambering atop, your lips hazily connecting with his again.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson angst

[cupid-styles]

https://www.tumblr.com/cupid-styles/734292199526760448/httpswwwtumblrcomcupid-styles734181265881890

UMM THE BESTIES ABSOLUTELY DO WANT THAT

lactation kink smut has to be written i BEG

alright.........listen.....I know this isn't everyone's thing and that's totally fine!!!! don't read if you aren't into it!!!!! this is a judgement-free zone!!!!!!!!!!!

other fyis: this is a little bit further into the pregnancy than other blurbs I've written! and of course, part of the ymls universe (this is also weeks after the whole angsty thing I posted yesterday, sorry for not posting part 2 before posting this gejrtkjakjr)

content warnings: lactating, pregnancy stuff, smut obviously

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

"Shit."

Per her 20-week checkup with her doctor last week, she knew she was officially at the halfway mark and could start producing milk at any point. She just hadn't expected it start happening now.

She hadn't noticed it until she went to the bathroom at Harry's place and zeroed in on the faintest of wet spots on her tee-shirt. She thought she may have spilled something on her top, only to realize that the stains were where her nipples are, and she was wearing a thin bralette today for the sake of comfort. That's when it clicked: She's lactating.

Even if she'd never verbally admit it, she'd been kind of fascinated by the way her body started to accommodate the baby, immediately creating a cozy home for them. It was humbling to know that she was serving a purpose of nurturing someone else now, and her breasts beginning to make milk was just another form of preparation.

She guesses she had been in the bathroom for a beat too long when Harry, tentative, worrisome, and annoying as ever, knocks on the door. Whipping her head from her gaze in the mirror, she swallows as she twists the knob open.

"What?"

"Just making sure you're alright," Harry replies with a confused expression, "You've been in there for awhile."

"Okay."

She's acting weird, so Harry stares at her through squinted eyes, trying to figure out if she'd been crying or something. (Lately, she feels like she can tear up over anything.) It's only when his eyes trail down her neck and over her chest that he sees it too.

"You're—"

"Yeah. I know."

"Is that why you were in here for so long?"

Y/N nods, an unusually sincere reply on the tip of her tongue. "Yeah, was just kind of surprised it's happening already. Kinda crazy."

"Well, you're halfway through," Harry responds easily, "Do you want to clean up? I can grab you another shirt."

"Yeah, please."

In a moment, he's gone, traipsing down the hallway to his bedroom. She hears him opening and closing the drawers of his dresser as she peels her own tee-shirt up and over her torso, tossing it on the closed toilet seat. When she glances at her appearance in the mirror, she sees the larger, dampened patches through her white bralette, swallowing harshly at the sight. She lets out a breath and presses a palm to her protruding belly bump as Harry walks back into the bedroom.

"I tried to find a comfy one." he says, though his movements instantly cease the second he goes to hand it to her. She can see it in his face and it makes her want to smirk, but instead a heavy pant is her only reaction. He bites his lip, a minuscule tell, and she realizes then that she's right.

"Do you want to see?" she asks breathily. She doesn't know what she's doing as his eyes flicker up to her face, pink lips parted. He can already see — they both can — but he knows what she's asking.

"You... you don't mind?"

She shrugs. "'s just a body."

So he nods, shoving down the jolt of embarrassment he feels as she lifts her bralette over her chest, revealing swollen breasts and leaking nipples. He breathes out harshly, the sight instantly making him thicken in his pants.

"Pretty," he says softly, without even realizing it, "Gonna feed our baby."

"Yeah."

She doesn't know if she's testing or teasing, but she slowly brings a hand up to cup her breast, a small gasp leaving her lips when a small bit of milk dribbles down just from the pressure. She swipes the liquid with her fingertip and holds it out between them, a silent encouragement: you can if you want.

So he does. He dips down and takes her finger between his lips, a gentle suck before releasing. It doesn't really taste like much, but the tiny gasp that leaves her mouth is worth it.

"D'you want more?"

He nods, and this time it's not a question or back-and-forth. He ducks forward, lips latching around her nipple, gently backing her up against the wall as he squeezes her hip. She moans from the feeling. She knows she's not producing enough for it to hurt or bother her, but when she glances down to see his pretty eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes tickling her skin as he sucks and pulls at her nipple, it's overwhelming.

"Shit," she mumbles, leaning her head back. "That's... that's good."

He pops off and licks over his lips, revealing a hardened peak slick with spit. His eyes instantly dart to the other and she nods. In a second, his mouth is back on her, tongue swirling around the bud as he sucks her dry.

The act is taboo and dirty and pushing her closer and closer to an orgasm, something she never thought was possible solely through nipple play. She's whimpering and moaning from above and Harry must have some sort of sixth sense for this kind of thing, because despite his closed eyes, he brings his fingers up to stroke at her other nipple, squeezing the pebbled bud.

"H-Harry, I'm gonna cum," she warns, all worries about co-parenting and complicating their relationship thrown out the window. He groans against her breast, a wordless encouragement to let go — so she does.

It's earth-shattering in its own unique way; her first-ever experience coming without any stimulation down below. With her fingers twisting his hair harshly, she moans loudly, shuddering as curses fall from her lips. When it eventually subsides, he lets go, pressing light kisses along the valley of her breasts, ensuring that he hasn't done too much harm with the aggression of his mouth.

"That was good." he whispers into her skin, and she nods.

"It was."

"Maybe we can do it again sometime."

She smiles gently, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth.

"We'll see."

#writing #ymls concept #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing

[reesespeanutbutterfuck]

imperfectionist (vinny hong x jo!reader)

jay jo's imperfectionist sister meets the flawful vinny hong.

part 1

part 2

pairing: vinny hong x jo!fem!reader

warnings: fem!reader, gifted!reader, cursing, mentions of blood & violence, mentions/flashbacks to vinny's shitty childhood. jo!reader (jay is reader's 1 year older brother, but they're in the same class), physical descriptions (resemblance to jay, jay's mother, heavily implied asian features) intelligent!reader, female rage, implications of academic pressure, middle child problems, second person's pov (you, you're, your), ANGSTY, lowkey self-indulgent, SPOILERS everywhere, includes momma bear vinny but then reader is also kind of a momma bear, reader is NOT yumi, but yumi still exists here. lmk if i forgot anyth

note: i can't stop tossing and turning while reading s4 lol. our vinny pls come back now im bawling my eyes rn

———

None of the recontres you had with Vinny Hong in the entirety of your life was normal.

The first time you encountered him was when you accidentally bumped into him in a vulnerable state while walking home under a light rain shower after a tiring day volunteering at the hospital your parents were working in. The light pouring rain hit your umbrella with soft thuds as you were finding your way through the alley you accidentally passed by after taking an alternative route, but getting a little lost in the process.

You shuddered when you heard a groan. You immediately looked around and kept your guard up in case it was a kidnapper. But no, it sounded like one of pain. Stopping your tracks and pulling over your feet, you looked around the alley. Your eyes expectantly scanned until your eyes found the source of the grumbling noise. There he was, slumped against the wall.

I knew it. you thought.

It was a man. How cliché. His head was bowed down so he couldn't see you. Let me guess, a high school boy was mobbed and injured somewhere and now is left to die in a dark alley to be found lifeless once the sun rises?

You scoffed. If only you had all the time in the world to be a delinquent, that will most likely be where you're meant for. These high school boys are wasting their lives when they unknowingly have the time to choose to be a better person. You discreetly envied how these kinds of people can still choose how they'll live their lives—regardless of presence of sense for separating actions between good and bad.

And so you walked past the alley.

Your steps slowed down as the man groaned again, this time followed by a rustle. A slight pang of guilt forming in the pit of your stomach. Damn it, this wasn't…

You reluctantly looked back to where the man sat. You've always sworn your life you wouldn't meddle in anything that wasn't your business. But for some reason, the guilt of having the ability to help but refusing to, drowned your fixed principle.

Just as you were having an inner banter with yourself, your feet made the decision for you instead and took you to him. You pushed the button on your umbrella to automatically close it, pointing the sharp end to the stranger. You weren't even sure if he's still alive because he suddenly quieted down after that last groan. Only the light from the nearest post gave you an unclear sight of the man and the fluff of his fiery red hair.

One of his hands fell limp on the floor while the other was covering his wound. It seemed like he's been in the same spot for minutes yet the distinct bright colour of fresh blood told you the injury happened not very a while ago. You weren't sure of how to approach him properly, so you lightly kicked his leg once, but he didn't respond. So you kicked him for the second time, this time, harder. Finally, he responded by quietly groaning in pain once again.

“Who… the hell… are you…?” He weakly questioned as looked up to squint and take in your face, but your figure was against the light from the lamp post, so your silhouette was the only thing he's capable of registering. Even when in pain, his voice still sounded atrocious. Like he's someone used to speaking to people harshly. Luckily, you weren't intimidated for a single bit. It'll take a lot more than harsh tones to drive you away. You've been there.

You fumbled inside your tote bag to search for your phone, “Who are you to ask?” When you got ahold of your phone, you turned the flashlight on and you got a clearer view of the blood oozing out of this stranger's side, staining his hand in the process. It looked like a stab wound, judging from the volume of the blood oozing out from the wound.

“As expected.” You raised your hand to point the sharp end of your umbrella to him once again. “I will help you. But if you attempt to do anything funny, I'll stab you on your other side, too.”

Your first option as was to call immediate professional help. As you tried to dial the hospital hotline to call an ambulance, your phone kept indicating there was no service. The signal's jammed. You almost threw your phone to the nearest wall out of frustration as you hit the side of it with your palm. You side-eyed the man behind you. Shit. Now what? This kind of stab wound is fatal, especially because he already lost plenty of blood beforehand. It wouldn't bleed that much if the penetration wasn't deep. It might have even hit a vital spot. Calling for help now will be difficult because of this deserted alley and the continuous pour of the rain didn't help either, plus, your phone has no service.

“..I don't need… your help...!” he glared at your silhouette and cursed himself as he shut his eyes tightly while attempting to sit upright, enduring the excruciating pain on his side.

“You're quite obnoxious for a dying man.” You looked around to search for more resources. This is a closed alley. If you leave him here for another minute to find help, he might completely lose his consciousness, he was already limp in the first place. You were left with no choice. Your hand hesitantly reached to fumble around your bag once again until you got an OS, gauze pads and sterilized medical stitching needles.

Your mother would be furious if ever she finds out you stitched a stranger's wounds. You can only imagine her yelling, “Patients are not your playthings and the Medical field is not your playground! Who are you to perform Medical procedures? You're not even a Doctor yet!” Yeah, for sure Dra. Jo wouldn't be so pleased to find out her daughter's attempt to fix someone up. You kneeled and looked at the stranger. You needed to gain his trust as professionally as possible.

“I won't ask your name since you're clearly hard to talk to. I'm [Y/N]. I'm no Guardian angel of yours. I do light voluntary work in hospitals and I have current trainings on how to attend to emergency patients. But I'm still a high school student so I'm not yet licensed. Anyway, going to a hospital will always be the safest option, but I have knowledge about stitching wounds, at least. I'm going to temporarily stitch you up really quick so you don't lose more blood, then we'll get you to a hospital once I find phone service.”

You surveyed his overall state, he looked very pale, although it's easy to tell that he's naturally pale, by losing a lot of blood, he's getting even paler each passing second. You were running out of time.

“Do you consent to this?” You asked him calmly through your glasses.

He breathed out heavily. You knew he was wary and reluctant. Which is understandable. But if it's not you, who else will do it? You heaved a sympathetic sigh. As you unemotionally tell him about the circumstances of his skepticality, that you well acknowledge.

“Hey, you might have a family member waiting for you at home. They would be devastated to just hear from the news that you were found dispatched and lifeless out here in the morning.” you looked around, left and right. “I won't force your consent out. I haven't touched you anywhere yet and I wouldn't if you don't want me to, so I can just leave you here, without me being a potential suspect of your murder. But you should probably think about the ones that didn't know their last sight of you alive was the last they'll get, ever.”

He looks at you for a few seconds while he grits his teeth, before he slowly, lightly nods. Shutting his eyes and removing his hand from covering the wound, implying that he had put his trust in you.

You checked his carotid pulse first. Just as you thought. Erratic and weakened. And then looked over to watch the shallow rise and fall of his shoulders. Shallow breathing... He definitely lost a high volume of blood already. You hastily started disinfecting everything—your hands, the tools, even the gloves. You checked his expression. You gave him a heads-up before lifting the side of his shirt to attend to the wound properly. You began working up and stitching the wound on his right side. You looked at his face once again that's being covered by the shade of the unfinished constructions caging the alley, while going through your first stitch.

“I'm sorry, this is the only option, for now. I'll find more professional help after this.”

He had no more energy left to open his mouth and reply. He grunts in pain while you were busy ushing the needle through-and-through. You asked him to bite down on a cloth while enduring the pain, since you didn't have anesthesia and he can feel every poke of the needle on his skin. You stitched him with precision with your skilled hands. Your hands were painted crimson red during the process.

This wasn't your first time stitching. You've done this a couple of times—but only to a simulator. You pulled yourself together as you kept in mind that a person's life is in your hands this time.

While you were focusing on the stitches, all the stranger can muster are croaky groans, as the pain of the wound and the stitches stung, so you tried to do it faster. When you were done, while wiping your blood-stained hands, you noticed how his chest was rising and falling rapidly as he was wincing in pain. He tried to look up at you again, but his sight of you was blurry.

“Don't worry, that'll be removed at once when you're taken to the hospital. What I did is only first aid, and you already lost a lot of blood so we still need to get you to the hospital as soon as possible.”

You pushed your knees to stand up and find phone signal, but before you can, his hand rose and reached for yours.

“No.” He clutched your hand to stop you. His hand was rough—and also large. You have large hands for a female, but his hand almost completely enveloped yours.

The side of your lips shifted downward while looking down at him. “You must really want to die.”

He gripped your hand tightly from the severe pain he's enduring. You know how much pain he's going through right now and he didn't mean to do so, so you let him squeeze your hand.

“I would rather die… than pay a hospital bill.” he weakly held on to you, falling completely unconscious. His head fell on your lap. You furrowed your brows and put his head into a more comfortable position.

Oh, so he was serious on dying?

You coming to his rescue definitely doesn't just end with a few stitches.

***

please bear with me, you guys. i wrote this way past my bedtime before a 7am class so it's yet still unedited lol ! always remember to put seeking professional help as top priority if you ever encounter this kinda scenario irl

#windbreaker #vinny hong #vinny hong x reader #vinnyxreader #jay jo x reader #windbreaker x reader #vinny x reader #yoobinhong #dom kang #shelly #manhwaimagines #manhwa #manga #imagines #wind breaker #minu #jay jo #vinny

[fir3ylolol]

we want you! pt. 5

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

tw: vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, oral sex, eating out, romantic sex, praising, angsty, afab reader, gn reader

a/n: don't hate me :( this isnt the end, i promise!

word count: 1.99 k

other parts

Ao3

You blink, trying to adjust to the brightness outside as you leave the theater. Johnny is shortly behind, squinting as well. He still looks slightly incredulous that you would do that, without warning, in public. It doesn’t seem like he minds that much, smacking your ass as he steps next to you. You jump and jokingly hit his arm, but he leans in to whisper in your ear, “If you can do what you like, so can I.” He smiles at you, hand sliding up to rest on your waist. You shiver slightly but smile at him, and walk down the sidewalk together.

You end up window shopping a bit, which Johnny is more than happy to do. Every time you want to look closer at something, he’s right behind you. If you want to try something on, he’s sat down, waiting to watch you walk out. Of course, he never has anything bad to say about you, constantly praising how good you look, no matter what. He even tries to convince you to let him into the changing room stall a couple of times, which doesn’t work. He refuses to let you pay for anything, even giving the cashier his card information while you’re changing, so he can just run it as soon as possible. You finally make it back to your place, and you start preparing to say goodbye. But he stops you, asking quietly, “Do you want to get dinner tonight? You can wear one of your new outfits, and look super fancy.” You snort slightly, and lean against your door as you talk, “Fancy, huh? Taking me out to eat once wasn’t enough?” “Nope,” he says with a smirk, leaning in to kiss your lips gently. As he pulls away, kind eyes staring into yours, you can tell something is going on, something he’s not ready for.

But you smile, trying to shake it off and nod, “Yeah, dinner sounds good. You can sit inside while I get ready.” You unlock the door, which he holds open for you so you can walk through. He sits on the couch, and you can see his foot start bouncing. As you change, you can’t help but worry about what’s wrong. Does he not want to see you anymore? Does he think you’re weird? But again, you push it to the back of your mind, finishing up. If he had something to say, he would say it…Right? As you walk back out, he leans back and whistles, standing up to walk over to you, “Damn baby, I didn’t think you could get any hotter.” He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close. You giggle into it then step back, “Did you want to change?” He walks back to the door, holding it open for you again. “Yes, but I won’t take nearly as long as you did.” You lock the door behind you as you make your way to the street. Since you’ve walked everywhere with him, you didn’t expect to see him walk up to a car, a jet-black Jeep. You pause, slightly speechless before talking again, “You’ve had a car this whole time?” He laughs, opening your door, “What, did you think I ran over here?” Sitting down, you look back at him, “I guess I did.” He closes the door gently, before walking to the driver’s side. He climbs in, starts the car, and drives off. It’s a quiet drive, with soft music playing as he concentrates on the road. You look out the window, almost getting sleepy at the sight of the sun sinking behind the buildings and the comfortable temperature of the car. 

But soon you’re at a small motel, and Johnny is outside the door, opening it for you. You climb out, trying not to rub your eyes or yawn, and manage to say, “You like opening doors for me, huh?” He smiles, wrapping an arm around you, “It’s fun. And like I’m treating you like royalty.” You walk with him up to his room, watching as he pulls out the keycard and opens the door, a loud creak echoing out. As you sit on the couch, he quickly changes, throwing on a nicer shirt and pants, spraying on cologne, and gelling his hair back into shape. It takes him five minutes tops, already ready to leave again. “You were right, that was fast,” you say, standing up to leave again, but he grabs your wrist to pull you back into him. He kisses you deeply, hands traveling down to grab your ass, as he groans into your mouth. Your arms rest on his shoulders, sighing at his touch. He pulls away, a bittersweet look in his eyes, as he mumbles something you can’t fully hear. “What?” you tilt your head to the side slightly, trying to understand him. But he shakes his head, smiling like normal again. “Nothing, let’s go,” he turns towards the door, one hand around your waist still, walking you out with him. It’s another quiet drive, a bit longer this time before you reach a nice building in the middle of nowhere.

You manage to step out before he can reach your door again, which he jokingly crosses his arms at. “Wow, I can’t believe you would do this to me,” he sighs at you before handing the keys to the valet and linking his hand with yours. Once you step inside, it is much more fancy, with large lights hanging high over antique wooden tables. You’re caught up looking around the room when Johnny pulls you slightly towards your table. As you sit, a glass of champagne is set down in front of you. “Jesus,” you’re caught off-guard. “This is fancy. I feel underdressed.” He takes a sip from his glass, smiling as he does, “No, you’re the most stunning person here. I’m lucky to be sat across from you.” Since this restaurant is quite nice, there’s no choice in what you get, only courses served promptly. So you sit, enjoying the appetizers that are brought out, forgetting the worries from earlier. But there’s a long pause after the entree is brought out, allowing for plenty of time to enjoy it.

Johnny’s hand gently takes yours resting on the table, and you meet his eyes, bittersweet expression back again. You feel your heart thump inside your chest, worrying about what he could possibly have to say. He clears his throat, gaze shifting slightly before meeting your eyes again, finally speaking, “Listen…I’ve had a really good day today. I always have a good day with you. But…Man, I can’t keep beating around the bush. I’m leaving.” He winces as if bracing for impact, waiting to see what you do. But you’re stunned, rendered fully silent. He starts talking again, even softer, “Cassie…she needs me back for a mission. And she doesn’t ask me for much, so I know it’s serious…But I don’t want to leave, not when this, when we, are just starting.” You manage to speak without even realizing you could, “Are you trying to let me down easy?” He squeezes your hand, leaning in closer, “No, no, that’s not what I’m doing. I just wanted to tell you, since I’m leaving very soon, and I care about you.” He sighs out, leaning back in his chair, “I’m sorry. I thought bringing you here would help me feel less nervous. But I just fucked it up.” You finally fully snap out of it, leaning towards him this time, “Hey, it’s ok, it’s ok. I just didn’t know what to do. Let’s just…enjoy our evening, ok?” He smiles slightly, nodding and sitting back up. You both try to enjoy it, but the night’s a blur. You make it back to your house faster than you can realize, fumbling for your keys as Johnny stands there nervously. As you unlock the door, you freeze. This might be the last time you see him for a while, and you don’t want it to be over yet. You look at him, thinking everything over. But you decide to go for it, barely audible voice, “Do you want to come inside?” 

He’s latched onto you, kissing you like it’s the last time he can. Pushing through the door, he’s still clinging to you, and it feels oddly nostalgic. But you quickly forget, trying to absorb as much of you as possible. He’s led you into the bedroom, sitting you down on the edge of the bed. He kneels as you lay back, tugging your clothes off with the desperation of a starving man. He takes a minute, staring at your pussy. “Shit, I’m gonna miss this,” he says before diving in, long flat licks against you. His lips suction around your clit, and your hands shoot to his hair, clinging to him. One of his hands helps spread your legs apart further, the other hand rising to plunge his fingers into you. All that can be heard echoing through the room is your strangled moans and the wet sounds of him devouring you. You don’t want to waste any time, tugging him closer and humping against his tongue. His head goes slack slightly, his whines muffled against your cunt as you chase your high. It’s not long before you’re cumming around his fingers, curling in on yourself and holding him even tighter against you. You finally release him, hearing a deep breath from between your legs as you lay back down. 

You hear the shuffling as he removes his clothes, quickly moving to take off the last of yours. His eyes drink you in again, it’s like he’s trying to memorize every part of you. But he lifts your legs, shifting your body to be more on the bed, as he lays above you. He leans in, kissing your lips sweetly. He rubs his hard cock against you, shuddering breaths at the feeling. But as he pushes in, you hear the sweetest whine from his lips. You can’t help but cling to his broad shoulders, back arching off the bed. As he’s fully inside, he leans his head down to rest in the crook of your neck, sighing out. He starts moving slowly, mumbling out against your ear, “God, baby, this is incredible. You’re incredible-fuck…Can’t believe how good you are to me, I’m so lucky. God, every part of you, your eyes, your lips, your hands, all of it, it drives me crazy. You drive me crazy, I just want to be around you all the time. You make everything so much better.” His voice is high and breathy, and as he speeds up, it becomes even more shaky. You wrap your legs around his back and your arms around his neck, making sure to cling to him tightly as you speak through your heady moans, “I need you, love.” He speeds up a lot more now, one hand on your hip, the other on the bed, as he bucks into you. He’s almost delirious, whimpering out with every stroke inside you. It’s not long before he cums, grip on you tightening with a light whine. He doesn’t pull out right away, rolling so that you’re resting on top of him, skin to skin. You can hear as his heartbeat slows down, his breathing becomes more normal, and his voice rumbles through his chest. He’s more quiet than usual, but his words are sincere. “Hey. Do you want to date? Like officially and exclusively? I don’t want to leave things unsettled.” You lift your head slightly, tired eyes meeting him with a smile, “Yeah, I would love to.” He smiles widely, his arms wrapping around you comfortably. “Perfect.” You roll off of him, settling into his side as you slowly fall asleep, ignoring what’s to come in the morning. All that matters now is falling asleep in his arms, breathing in sync.

#johnny cage #mortal kombat #johnny cage x reader #mk x reader #x reader #johnny cage smut #afab reader #johnny cage mk11

[none-duh-nah]

SIX EYES ON ME

summary: gojo and his lover of the past finding eachother again.

Warnings: angst with comfort, charecter death(s), past life lovers, Lowkey very angsty, fluff if you squint, arrange marriage with love,

You looked at the sky before looking into his eyes only to think the sky mimicked them. His eyes held the sky, the air, your whole world, your happiness, your sadness and everything above and beyond. They were indescribably beautiful.

Different people liked different kinds of wether. Some like a clear sky while some liked a dark and clouded one with no ounce of warmth. You liked the one inside his eyes though.

You and the young Gojo clan heir had been promised to one another the moment you met. You had done it by yourself since it was practically a crime for someone from the Gojo clan and your clan to even look at each other. Yet here you were, standing right where you belong. It could be anywhere really as long as it was beside him.

You were dressed in the purest of white while him in his most formal clothes with his clan emblem on it. Today was the day something so humiliating and unacceptable to the higher ups was to take place. The marriage of the Gojo heir to you. Of course it had taken a lot to get where you were today. You had come across only hurdles and misfortunes onthe way but all that is a different story for a different time. All of it was all worth as you both got to marry person you've been cherishing since the day of your meeting. The person you've been wanting for as long as you can remember. You were so so happy, so was your lover.

You were more than ready for the things that were to take place today. To seal the bond that would make you his forever, to step into a new life, to be happy. But you could've never even imagined what happened afterwards.

Your love who had been your husband for barely 2 whole nights got murdered in cold blood by the Zenin clan head. The Zenin man died before you even got there and your arrival was only to watch your husband die before you. You took one look and knew you were going be widowed. The six eye user was able to see his wife before he closed his eyes. He apologized. She forgave him.

"My eyes will always recognise your heart." He said laying on your lap with only a few more seconds on life left in him.

You looked into his tired eyes with nothing but love and sadness as you spoke to him.

"It belongs to you. I suppose it would be easier to find whats already yours yeah?." Your spoke calmly as ever since your tears could'nt even fall out of your eyes. They were all staying inside barely even appearing. Your heart had been shattered. But the pieces were far from lost because you knew your husband. He always kept his word to you. You would believe him no matter how many odds were against you and him.

"I'm your's too, in every universe, in every possible reality, in every possible life I will be yours. Please find me too sweetheart." he said as he smiled one last time, leaving you in a world that wasn't yours.

"Till we meet again." you said as you felt your tears again. Once they started falling, they kept falling. They fell on him, they fell on your dress, they fell on the floor. They were all you. You cried as you held fhe body of your parted soulmate. Then the sky started crying with you. You hated the sky that wasn't his eyes. You hated the world that wasn't yours. You had lost your mind, your hearf and your soulmate. You died that day.

As soon as you completed your duties as a wife at his funeral you died again. Your heart stopped and you closed your eyes hoping to meet your love when you open them. You did'nt. Well not right away I guess.

You met him again when you joined jujutsu high at the age of 16. You remembered nothing of your past life that ended so tragically.

You remembeded nothing when you saw him for the first time. You remebered nothing when you talked to him for the first time. But you knew it. Your heart squeezed in your chest when he showed you his eyes. Your heart knew who he was and since your heart doesnt have memoey neurons you didnt remember(that was bad i know). You again mentally promised yourself to one another that day.

You met Satoru gojo when you were sixteen even thought you had known him for centuries. You fell in love and had gotten married too. Now you were standing at your shared home wearing nothing but his shirt, doing your skin care in your shared bathroom while he hugs you from the back burrying his head in your hair. He only looked up to have momentary glances at your face in the mirror infront of you as he kissed your neck then and now.

"I just got deja vu." He said tightening his hands around your torso.

"You seem to be getting that a lot these days." You said as you applied a serum on your face with one hand as your other went to sqeeze his bicep.

"Its crazy actually. Its almost like i can see it all." He said placing a small kiss on your cheek.

"Man.. you and your weird six eyes." You said turning around to wrap your hands around his neck, bringing his face close to you."

"What do you even see?"

Then he replied.

"I see my whole world."

You looked at him with confusion. But confusion could never raise your heartbeat like this.

"I see you."

an : i dont know much about traditional Japanese weddings and fhats why i didn't get into many details.. I am a poor asian person whose first is not English so i could only hope you didn't come across MANY grammatical errors... Thank you so mucn for reading! Have a nice day.

#gojo satoru #jujustu kaisen #gojou satoru #jjk #gojo angst #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fanfic #gojo fluff #gojo imagine #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fanfiction #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #satoru gojo x reader #geto suguru #jjk anime #anime #anime fanfic