#not an alcoholic but I figure I should tag it anyways

[bluebeary-jay]

Midnight kisses

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Jackson celebrates the New Year’s Eve, and you're thinking about finally confessing to your crush how much you like him. but Joel Miller, the object of your affections, might have other plans in mind. (based on this adorable request!!)

Tags: FLUFF my beloved 🥰, Joel is very flirty in this one, lots of crushinggg, just old sweet mutual pining (also they're both lovesick idiots)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and being drunk, jealousy, age difference

Word count: 5.4K

A/N: i had a lot of fun with this one 🥰 thank you so much once again for the request, dear, i hope you'll like what i came up with. (btw this was supposed to be a short fic but it seems i'm unable to write one 😔) still i hope yall will like it and as always, happy reading!! 💕

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The party was in a full swing.

You didn’t expect anything else from the Jackson community. Ever since you arrived here, you were astounded by the effort that the people living in this small town were making to create a life as normal and joyous as possible – for their children and themselves. And today, on New Year’s Eve, they outdid themselves. There was food, music and drinks – almost as if the apocalypse outside those walls never happened.

You were sitting by one of the tables, sipping on your beverage while you waited for your friend, Angie, to arrive. Dancing alone didn’t sound like an appealing idea, so while you waited for her, you opted for some people-watching – though if you were honest with yourself, it was more like ‘person-watching’.

Your eyes strayed to a figure on the opposite side of the room for like a twentieth time, but you couldn’t help it even if you wanted to. Because there stood a man who still, even after more than a year of knowing him, made the butterflies in your stomach take flight.

Joel Miller.

He looked really good in a clean flannel and fitting jeans, you conceded. His hair was slightly wet, like he washed it just before coming to the party, and combed a little to the back, making the silver strands in his hair and beard shine in the low lights. You found yourself unable to look away or get rid of that stupid grin on your face that lingered when Joel smiled lopsidedly at something his brother said. The muscles in his arm bulged when he lifted his glass to take a sip, and you watched the lines of his neck when his throat bobbed...

“You’re ogling,” murmured a voice next to your ear, and you jumped a little in surprise. Next to you stood Angie, smirking at you.

“Jesus, Angie.” You put your hand on your chest, your heart pounding rapidly. “A ’hello’ would be nice.”

Your friend knew, of course, about your massive crush on Joel Miller, and you thought more than a year of pining on your part would cause her to grow bored of all the jokes and teasing that she threw your way. Apparently, you were wrong.

“Hello,” she said, then sat down on the other chair and leaned closer to you with a wide smile. “You’re ogling. In a room full of people, may I add.”

“I’m not,” you murmured defensibly, but your face grew warm at the realization that she caught you. “How long have you been standing here, anyway?”

“Like half a minute. By the way, you’re also drooling.”

“I’m not!” you repeated, now in an irritated whisper. You knew you weren’t drooling, but still had to refrain yourself from wiping your mouth, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. “Stop making things up.”

“You should just go talk to him.” Angie casually nodded in Joel’s direction. “He didn’t come with a date, sooo…”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he’s waiting for someone.”

“Uh, duh!” Angie flicked you on the forehead, and you hissed. “For you to make a move. You can… oh, I know!” she bounced in her seat excitedly and clapped her hands. “Ask him to dance with you!”

You almost snorted. “Joel Miller dancing? Sure. He wouldn’t agree even if he did like me.”

“He does like you. Jesus, you flirt with each other all the time.” The smile disappeared from her lips and she rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you’d have to be blind and deaf not to notice. And maybe dead.”

“There’s no flirting, I told you.” You took a sip of your drink, glancing at the object of your affection. “He talks in this way to everyone.”

“He never called me ‘darling’,” Angie retorted. “Or gave me his jacket when we got caught up in the rain.”

You smiled softly at the memory, but that just made you feel even more hopeless, because since that day, you weren’t able to have a normal conversation with the man you liked so much.

“What do I do?” you whined, leaning on the table. “He’s so beautiful. And he for sure doesn’t see me that way.”

“Are you drunk already? You said you didn’t want a repeat from–”

“–from last year, yeah,” you finished for her and sighed. “I’m not drunk, just feeling down. There’s no way I’ll be able to tell him I like him, Angie.”

“Maybe you won’t have to.” Your friend nudged you gently. “You can just inconspicuously take him under one of the mistletoe and go ‘oh, what’s that?’, and then…”

“What mistletoe?” you asked, only now looking up at the ceiling where familiar-looking leaves were tied with a string to the support beams under the ceiling and above the doors. “Why is there mistletoe hanging?” you asked skeptically. “It’s a New Year’s Eve party.”

“I think they haven’t taken it down since last week.” Angie shrugged, but then grinned at you. “Don’t you think it’s a sign, though? So many places to kiss your crush under~...”

“Jesus, keep your voice down,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands again. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re impossible,” she mocked in a low voice. “I’m trying to help.”

“I know, babe,” you whined, and sighed heavily again. “You know what, maybe I should just forget it. Let’s go have fun, dance, and later throw up from all the food and…”

Suddenly, Angie interrupted you with a high noise in her throat. You gave her a questioning look and she looked at you with a tight-lipped smile and wide eyes.

“He’s coming here.”

“What?!” You automatically turned around before Angie hissed for you not to look, and sure enough, there was Joel Miller, making his way through the crowd with his eyes locked on you. “Oh my god,” you breathed, clutching at your friend’s hand. “He must’ve seen us talking. What do I do?”

“You sit there and look smoking hot, and let him flirt with you,” she answered with confidence you didn’t feel. “And maybe you won’t even need to ask for the kiss, maybe he’ll do it for–” Her eyes darted above your shoulder. “Oh, hey, Miller.”

You gulped and took a deep breath before turning around and– oh, God, he looked even better up close.

Angie kicked you lightly under the table when you didn’t say anything, and you cleared your throat, smiling up at the man you were so crazy about. “Uhm, hi, Jo– Mr Miller.”

“Didn’t I tell you to call me by my name, sugar?” He had kind of a boyish smile on his face that made him look younger and even more handsome, which in turn made your stomach fill with warmth. He sat down next to you, and his eyes scanned you down and back up, slowly, lingering on your legs and curves just for a second longer. “You look lovely.” He then glanced at Angie, sending her a nod. “Both of you.”

“Really?” you beamed, and Angie kicked your ankle again, making you wince. “Uhm, thanks. You clean up nicely yourself.”

A trace of smirk ran across his face, but it was gone before you could make sure it was really there in the first place.

“Are you enjoyin’ the party?” he asked casually, hiding one hand in the front pocket of his jeans. Your eyes followed his movement before you caught yourself.

“Y-yeah, it’s nice. A little too loud for me, but really nice.”

“Maybe you wanna step outside for a bit, then?” Joel nodded in the direction of the deck in the back, and your heart started beating faster.

Did he want to be alone with you? Or was just being polite and preferred to talk somewhere quieter, and you were getting your hopes up unnecessarily? You hoped it was the first, that he genuinely enjoyed chatting with you as much as you did with him – but you never knew with a man like Joel Miller. He was an enigma, sometimes serious and so stoic that you couldn’t for the world figure out what was going on in his head, and other times charming and teasing, making you weak in the knees when he was looking at you with that fiery glint in his eyes…

“Sugar?” Joel asked, lifting his eyebrows with what seemed to be amusement, and you cursed yourself mentally for spacing out.

“Sorry, I… Yes, let’s– sure, let’s go.”

All of you stood up and you looked over your shoulder at Angie with a panicked face, but instead of reassuring you, she sent you a quick, sly grin.

“You two go ahead,” she chirped. “I’m gonna go look for my date.”

“Angie–” you whispered, giving her a look, but the woman just winked and turned around, disappearing into the crowd of dancing people. “Angie!”

Before you could go after her, you felt a big, warm hand on the small of your back, and your entire body tensed. Joel leaned over to your ear, whispering in a low voice.

“Shall we?”

“Yeah,” you squealed, so quietly he probably didn’t hear it over the loud music. “Sure.”

Your legs moved on their own, going where he guided you. The walk to the terrace in the back lasted no longer than fifteen seconds, but it felt like hours had passed. You were very aware of the light pressure of his fingertips on your back, with only one layer of material separating your skin from his, and the nerves of feeling him so close behind you were making you walk stiffly and oddly – though, miraculously, he didn’t seem to notice.

“I don’t like how loud the music is, either,” Joel said after you two exited the main room, and he closed the door. Then he glanced at you again, his eyes flicking to your bare legs just for a second longer. “Are you cold?”

“No,” you answered truthfully. Not only was it nice to feel the cool air after sitting in a stuffy room with a crowd of people for so long, but also you still felt warm from Joel’s closeness. “I’m alright.” Joel nodded absentmindedly, and you squinted. “Did you want to talk about something or…”

“Nah, just wanted to escape for a minute.” He rubbed his beard and shrugged, but there was tightness to his body language. “Not much to do in there except for drinkin’.”

“And dancing,” you cut in.

Joel glanced at you, and the lazy smirk returned onto his features.

“You like to dance, sweet girl?” he asked, and you felt your face growing hot when you heard his tone. Low, drawling and oh, so delicious.

“If the party is good, yes, I guess so.” Then you remembered what Angie suggested earlier, and you took a shaky breath, mustering all the courage you had in you. “We… if you want, we could dance a little later, if they play something nice…?”

But the hot nerves in your chest turned to cold disappointment when Joel started to shake his head with a chuckle. “Nah, darlin’. Sorry, I don’t… I’m no dancer.”

“Noone here is,” you retorted, a bit hurt by how quick his rejection was. “It’s just for fun.”

“I know better ways to have fun than t’make an idiot of myself in front of bunch of people.”

“Like what?”

Of course, you just had to ask.

Joel smirked, as if he was just waiting for it, and took a step forward, forcing you to take one backwards. His brown eyes bored into yours, making you weak in your knees, and you promptly turned your gaze away, not able to withstand the tension in the air. With a cough, you walked up to the wooden railing, pretending that you weren’t feeling sheepish at all.

“For one, talkin’ here with you is fun enough for me.”

You forced yourself to look at Joel when you heard it, just to see if he’s joking, but the man appeared genuine. He leaned against the rails, his hand right next to your shoulder, and you couldn’t get rid of the thought of how easy it’d be for him to cage you in this spot with his strong arms, how he’d make your entire body tremble…

But you weren’t quite sure yet if he was being sweet or just tried to mess with you, so you decided that a teasing response would be the best course of action.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged lightly. “I’d still like to find someone to dance with tonight.”

At that, Joel’s hand gripped the railing tighter and his body stiffened. You had to hide a triumphant smirk on your face, pleased that you managed to throw him off his game – whatever it was that he was playing.

“One of your friends?” In your peripheral vision you saw him lifting his eyebrows with the faintest of scowls. “Or one of those shady guys sittin’ at the bar, staring at pretty girls like you? ’Cause they’re no good for you, darlin’.”

“Oh, really?” you scoffed and lifted your chin, feeling touched that Joel was acting so protective – (and maybe even… jealous?) – about what you said. “You were the one that didn’t want to dance. What do you know about what’s good for me, anyway?”

“Those guys won’t treat you right. They just want a girl to spend the night with, and you deserve better than that.”

He was right, of course, but it didn’t mean you were going to openly give him his due. You made an acknowledging noise, not really sure what to say, but Joel didn’t seem to mind. He continued in a quiet, raspy voice that sent shivers down your spine. “You deserve someone who’d take real good care of you, darlin’. Not some drunk out of their ass idiot.”

“Are you drunk, Mr Miller?” you asked, not looking at him in fear he’ll see how red his words made you, though you could still see his smirk in the corner of your eye.

“No.”

“You act like you are.”

“C’mon, sugar, look at me.” He took your chin between his fingers and your body went rigid. His warm gaze met yours for just a second, and he tilted his head forward a little. “Do I look drunk?”

“A little.” You turned your head away, but he tsked and guided your chin back.

“In the eyes, darlin’.” You gulped at his words, and his dark, brown irises twinkled in the fairy lights dangling from the roof and walls. “And call me Joel, please.”

His chest was almost touching yours, and you felt the wooden railing digging into your lower back, but at that moment you didn’t mind at all. Joel was so close, and your breath hitched in your throat when you got enveloped in his earthy smell, with a tinge of bonfire and… was that cologne? For some reason the discovery that he used cologne for tonight made your heart flutter.

But as much as you loved every second of being so close to him, you remembered that you weren’t alone on the terrace. There was a pair of people talking – well, now kissing, judging by the sound of it – and your eyes darted to the side to see if they were looking at you both. “Come on, there are people here. It’s not…”

The man clicked his tongue in disapproval and moved slightly closer, now practically pinning you against the railing with his body, and you squealed unwillingly when he, once again, made you look at him.

“Eyes on me.”

And God, if it wasn’t the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen or heard. It was unfair how much power his gaze and tone wielded over you.

“Okay,” you managed to whimper, and the corner of his mouth curled upwards, creating that adorable dimple in his cheek.

“And my name, sugar.”

You didn't know why you were complying so easily, but something about the softness and tenderness in his voice made you feel safe. He wouldn’t hurt you, of that you were absolutely sure.

“Okay, Joel.”

His thumb brushed the edge of your bottom lip with the softest of touches, making your legs almost turn to jelly. It made you want to say his name again, though in a much more needy tone.

“That’s a good girl,” Joel murmured with a smirk, never looking away.

Lord, have mercy.

You were so grateful for the wooden rails behind your back, because you were sure you’d collapse any second now if he kept looking at you like that.

“I… Joel…”

“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” he murmured without taking his eyes off of you for even a second. Your brain was mush at this point, but even if you could formulate any words, you doubt you’d ask him to step away. So you settled on shaking your head slightly, to which Joel nodded. “Lemme know immediately if it changes, darlin’.”

How could you be so blind? All you could think about was that Angie was right – there was no way Joel Miller wasn’t flirting with you. Maybe he even liked you. Maybe – just maybe – he wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss him.

“Didn’t you wanna… get back to the party?”

You didn’t make any move to get away yourself, however, not wanting him to drop the arm with which he was holding your chin. The material of his shirt was bulging over the lines of his biceps, and it felt really nice to stand so close to him.

“I’m in no rush.” Joel’s voice dipped, and your insides tightened. “You?”

“No, but–”

“Here you are, you ol’ fucker!”

Joel took a step back, and you both turned to see his younger brother walking clumsily through the door with a big, drunken grin on his face. You cleared your throat, still breathless and blushed, but both Millers didn’t pay you any mind anymore.

“Tommy.” Joel’s face was like made out of stone, but his eyes were betraying how irritated he was with the interruption.

“You thought you’d manage to get away, ya old dog?” Tommy hooked an arm around his older brother’s shoulders and finally looked at you to send you a wink. “Sorry, sweetheart, gotta borrow ‘im for a second. He has a date to get to.”

It took you a couple of seconds to register that yes, you heard him right. A heavy veil of hurt and disbelief slowly fell down on you, and your eyes started to prickle as you looked from Tommy to Joel.

“A date?”

He had a date. Why then did he talk and act this way with you, making you feel like you ever had a chance with him?

“C’mon, don’t keep a lady waiting,” Tommy said to Joel instead of answering you, and tugged the other man back inside, but Joel didn’t move. “Who knows, maybe you’ll even get lucky tonight!”

That you couldn’t listen to.

Trying to hide how painful his words were to you, you ducked your head and tried to slip past the brothers, desperate to get out of here. A hand – which felt so achingly familiar now – shot out and grabbed your elbow before you could escape. You lifted your tearful eyes only to meet Joel’s sorrowful ones.

“Darlin’, wait. It’s not…”

“No, it’s okay,” you interrupted him, tearing your gaze away. “I wanted to go to the bathroom, anyway.”

Joel looked like he wanted to say something else, but you couldn’t bear being in his and Tommy’s presence any longer. You slipped out of his grasp, quickly coming back inside and navigating your way to the bathrooms.

He had a date for tonight. And still he flirted with you and touched you so lovingly, and… and almost…

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid! To think you ever had a chance.

You dashed into the bathroom and quickly opened the first free stall you saw, then shut it behind you. There you just slumped against the wall and wrapped your arms around yourself, giving in to the flow of your tears, but trying not to make a sound.

You felt so foolish for letting yourself fall under Joel Miller’s spell, for ignoring that he obviously couldn’t be interested in someone like you.

He probably saw you as a dumb child. No wonder he’d prefer someone else, probably a woman closer to his own age.

But why did he have to be so cruel, to lead you on and hint that…

No, you realized. It was your own damn fault for letting your heart justify his every action towards you.

Almost ten minutes must’ve passed before you got a grip on yourself and decided to go find Angie. You needed to talk to someone, preferably distract yourself from the unpleasant situation you had to experience, and maybe try to salvage the evening somehow. With that in mind you took a couple of breaths, wiped your eyes and then hesitantly exited the bathroom.

You only managed to take a couple of steps, however, before your eyes were drawn to a familiar and beautiful side profile. You wished you didn’t know his face so well, because then you wouldn’t see Joel whispering something to a stunning woman you didn’t know at the far end of the room. She was hanging off his arm, bright eyes and a million-dollars smile directed solely at him. Joel appeared to be looking around, but a few seconds later he put his hand on the small of the woman’s back – just as he did earlier with you – and started walking. Neither of them looked your way before exiting through the front door and leaving the party.

As well as a gaping hole in your heart.

*****

A few minutes later you managed to find Angie. You were a mess at this point, barely able to stop yourself from sobbing. It was truly pathetic.

“I don’t know her name. But I saw them leaving, and she was hanging off his arm and–” you choked on your words and gave a humorless laugh. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

“I’m so sorry, hon.” Angie looked at you sadly. “We can ditch the party if you want. Go to my place and watch some movies,” she suggested gently, but you were already shaking your head.

“No, no. I’m fine, really, I… I think I'll just go home. But you should stay with your girlfriend.” Angie looked like she was about to protest, but you squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I promise I’m okay. I’m just gonna go straight back home and lock myself inside with a bowl of ice-cream. Or go to sleep.”

“I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

“I… I think I need to.” You gave her a weak, sad smile, and stood up. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? You have fun, I don’t want to ruin your night, too.”

“You’re not ruining anythi–”

“I mean… this. All of this stuff with,” you swallowed heavily, “him.”

Angie still seemed unconvinced, but finally nodded after a while. “Alright. But come and get me if you feel worse.”

“I promise. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Take care of yourself, okay?”

You nodded, then went towards the side exit and out into the snowy night without looking back. You didn’t want to stay here and watch as all those happy couples share sweet kisses at midnight, thus reminding you of your heartbreak.

This time you had your coat on, but it was far too thin for this kind of weather. You wrapped it tighter around yourself and hid your hands in the pockets, starting to make your way home. It was a bit far from the main square, but you needed to get away from the music and laughter of the partygoers as quickly as possible.

Alas, you only managed to walk one street away when out of nowhere, a big hand grabbed your elbow, stopping you in your tracks. “Wait.”

You turned around and took a step backwards at the same time, freeing your arm with a strong tug. The words full of anger were ready to spill out of your mouth, but that was until you saw who stood in front of you with a painful expression.

The last person you expected to see here.

“Joel?” You whispered surprisedly and looked around, but there was no one else nearby. Not that strange woman you saw him with, at least. “What are you doing here?”

“I was lookin’ for you,” he rasped between gasps, like he ran all the way here. “You weren’t at the party.”

“Why were you… What are you doing here?” you repeated more coldly, the sight of him only making your fresh heartache so much more noticeable. “I thought you left.”

“M’so sorry.” Joel’s beautiful dark eyes were full of sadness and weariness. “I would have never left you if I could help it, darlin’.”

He took half a step forward and lifted his hand slightly to graze yours with his icy-cold fingertips. You weren’t wearing any gloves either, so his touch sent a jolt up your arm. You looked down at it, but gently moved your hand away. “I don’t understand. Didn’t you have a… date?”

“No.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. You avoided his eyes and instead watched as snowflakes landed and melted in his hair. “No, it was Tommy… You saw how drunk he was, and he wanted to set me up, insisted on talking to that girl, but I…”

“You should get back to her, then,” you said dryly, really not having strength to even hide how hurtful his mere presence was. You went past him, hiding your neck in your coat. “I don’t want to keep you from–”

“Darlin’, wait.” Joel grabbed your arm again, though still gently and without any force. “Listen, she was nice, but I told her that I can’t get involved in anythin’, because I…” He faltered slightly when you looked him in the eyes, for the first time since your talk on the terrace. “There is… it’s– fuck.” He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, as if gathering courage. “There is someone else,” he finally spoke, his voice almost trembling, and looked at you again, “that I’m madly in love with. And it’s you.”

Through the open door to the party someone shouted what sounded like the time, but it was all happening in the background of your mind. All you could focus on was Joel, standing so close to you and looking almost scared as he waited for your reaction.

Cold crept up your limbs and up to your cheeks while you tried to digest what the hell you just heard, but as if held by the invisible force of his gaze, you couldn’t move an inch.

“...what?”

“I… really, really like you,” Joel whispered, his dark and sad eyes drilling into your unbelieving ones. “I went to this party just to see you, darlin’. And I’d never chose to spend the evenin’ with anyone else but you. I’m so sorry I left you like that and…”

He then gulped and very slowly lifted his hand to your face, not fully cupping your cheek but hovering just above it. He searched your eyes, but when you didn’t back away, he touched your skin carefully, and an involuntary sigh escaped you as your eyes fluttered closed.

You never thought one could be touched with such care and fondness. No one has ever treated you like that before, like you were made of the most precious glass.

“You can tell me to fuck off,” Joel whispered, and you opened your eyes to find his face a little closer than before. “I just thought that maybe… if you would maybe, too…”

He was getting flustered again, and it was the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen. It must’ve been close to midnight now, because you noticed that the music stopped and the racket inside the building was at its peak, though it was hard to distinguish the words people were shouting when your heartbeat was almost deafening in your ears.

“But I saw you leaving with that woman.” You had to make sure you were on the same page with him before you did something idiotic. Again. “You aren’t…?”

“No,” Joel breathed a quiet chuckle and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, while his eyes danced across your face. “It’s only ever been you, darlin’.”

Then he must’ve heard something – his head turned to the side to look at where the party was still going on, before his eyes returned to you, and you felt his thumb swiping your cheek in an oh, so tender manner.

“May I?” he asked in a whisper, so close that his breath skimmed your parted lips. You hoped he was asking about what you thought, but this time wasn’t brave enough to ask and clarify.

So you just nodded.

And Joel leaned in, without any hurry, and kissed you.

It was fitting, you supposed, that only a couple of seconds later the clock chimed midnight, and shrieks of laughter and cheers filled the air while the people still present at the party celebrated loudly. You couldn’t care less, however, because in that moment, your entire world was Joel. His – still cold – hand caressed your scorching cheek, and the other found its place on your hip. The smell of him, the warmth with which his body radiated, and the feeling of his lips, rougher in touch than you’ve imagined, but still soft in movement – all of it together was almost overwhelming.

You parted after a while with blissful sighs, though didn’t move away – Joel still held you close, his forehead pressed to yours, and eyes shut tightly, as if he was in pain. He took a trembling breath when you touched his jaw with your icy fingers.

“Tell me to stop,” he pleaded in a murmur, taking you aback. “Sugar, if you don’t… Please, tell me to stop.”

You shook your head and held onto him tighter before he even finished.

“Please, don’t stop.”

Your lips clashed again, tongues meeting and dancing together, and it was the closest you’ve ever felt to any type of heaven in this cruel, forsaken world. Joel pulled you flush against him and kissed you again, more forcefully this time, tangling his fingers in your hair. You let out an involuntary moan, but his mouth swallowed the sound immediately, not giving you a split second of respite.

“I wanted to do it a year ago,” Joel muttered between the kisses, before he took your face in his hands to look you in the eyes properly. He smiled, that same adorable and boyish smile, when he saw how breathless and flushed you were. “Wanted to kiss you so much, sugar, but,” he obviously fought back a laugh at this point, his eyes crinkling, “you got wasted and puked your guts out just before midnight.”

“Oh my god.” You didn’t know he saw it, particularly the moment when all the alcohol you consumed a year ago refused to stay in your stomach. “I wasn’t– I don’t usually… I got drunk ‘cause I saw Sheryll kissing you on the cheek,” you admitted with embarrassment, feeling your skin growing even hotter. “I thought you and her were together at that point…”

“But why did you get drunk because of it, sweet girl?” Joel mused, brushing his nose against yours and obviously teasing you. You snorted and shook your head.

“You know why.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

You playfully pushed him away lightly, but he tightened his grip around you, not letting you step away.

“You’re an asshole sometimes,” you whispered, making Joel chuckle. “Fine. I really wanted to kiss you, too. Happy?”

He smiled and kissed you again, softly and passionately this time, cradling your cheek in his palm.

“Very,” he whispered against your lips and dragged his nose up to plant a kiss on your forehead. “Very much, baby.”

Your heart fluttered with joy at his affectionate tone. Joel pulled away, his hands leaving your body to cover your own, situated on his jaw and arm.

“Now, what do you say we head back inside?” he asked with a disarming smile, brushing your knuckles with his thumbs. “And maybe you’ll let me ask you for a dance?”

You didn’t give an answer, but the joyous kiss you pressed to his lips – which, with your enthusiasm, almost made both of you topple over into the snow – spoke for itself.

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #the last of us fanfiction #joel tlou #joel miller fluff

[deltaromeo3]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴀɴɴᴏʏɪɴɢ ⋆ Lando Norris

pairing: lando norris x teammate!reader

summary: do they really hate each other like they said they do?

requested by: this ask

ツ A/N: should i write a part 2 to this? anyways, i changed it up a little! hope you still like it! let me know if you want to be tagged if theres a part 2? :)

You thought you would get along well with him, but turns out for some damn reason you didn’t. He disliked you and you had no idea why.

You figured you would stop racking your brain on trying to find a reason why he doesn’t seem to like you and just move on with it. So what did you do?

You treated him the way he treated you of course.

★★★

Your rivalry and hate towards each other quickly caught the attention of everyone on the grid, some saying that this rivalry will soon blossom into a friendship, possibly into something more than that.

Your season was going well so far, but you couldn’t say the same for Lando. He had multiple problems with his car and you could just see the frustration bubble up every single time he couldn’t deliver.

If he weren’t so mean and cold to you, you would’ve cheered him up but oh well.

The post race conference were where it hit hardest for him.

One by one, journalists were flaming him, rubbing it to him about the shit year he’s having and the even shittier race he just finished. And he just kept his cool to the shit that was being thrown at him.

You disliked him, sure, but you weren’t heartless.

“Um,” You chimed in to your mic. “I think that’s enough, no? We all understand that Lando didn’t perform as we would like him to, but this shouldn’t be a reason for everyone here to throw all these stupid questions at him. He’s a talented driver and we all know that. It’s just not his year. So, is anyone going to start asking him some real questions? Like how he managed to finish P10 despite having mechanical problems or should I retire and become a journalist instead?”

The crowd laughs at the ending of your sentence. You leaned back in to your seat, not even looking his way. But you knew that he was thankful you said something to stop it… at least you’d hope so.

★★★

Another Sunday quickly came and went. The race was over and this time, Lando managed to finish P3 alongside a Ferrari 1-2. They all went out to celebrate, even inviting you along. You politely decline, deciding to call it a night.

Luckily, the race was in Monaco, so instead of going back to a hotel, you were making your way back home.

It was well into the morning, and you had somehow fallen asleep on your sofa. You awoke to the TV screen displaying “Are you still watching” so you switched it off and headed to the kitchen before making your way to your room.

You were sipping on your drink when you heard your phone ring. Who the fuck is calling at this hour?

It was Charles. Of course.

“Where are you? Amber Lounge?”

This wasn’t a new occurrence. Usually Charles would crash at yours everytime he goes out partying in Monaco. And since he was in no state to drive, you would pick him up every single time.

“Yes! But mon chou-“ He yells. He doesn’t sound that drunk.

You cut him off, “Wait for me. I’ll come get you,” You ended the call.

“She didn’t even let me finish talking…” He looks down at his phone. “Oh this can only go so wrong…” He looks over to the bloke beside him.

You put on a hoodie and took your keys, quickly driving down to the club. As soon as you pulled up, you saw Charles sitting outside. But he wasn’t alone, oh no, he was with Carlos and together they were helping Lando.

You opened your car door, assuming Charles would get in but it was Lando instead. Shocked, you turned over to Charles.

“What’s this!?”

“You didn’t let me finish talking! I was gonna tell you that you’re taking him, not me!” He chinned towards Lando.

You grunt, “You owe me. Big time.”

“Yes yes, I owe you. Have fun. Love you mon chou,”

You rolled your eyes and drove off. Your car was starting to reek of alcohol so you kept the windows down.

“Mon chou,” Lando repeats, giggling to himself. “Charles c-calls you th-that?”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up Norris.”

You finally made it to your flat after trying to carry the 68kg driver from the garage to the house. You were mentally swearing to yourself for somehow managing to get into this situation.

As he laid on the sofa, you went to the kitchen to get an Aspirin and a cup of water. Not forgetting a set of fresh clothes for him to change into.

You placed the set of fresh clothes and water by his side, leaving him be.

You only took a few steps when you heard Lando calling out your name.

You turned your back to check on him, realising he had somehow managed to get the hoodie stuck on his head.

You laughed at the stupidity but quickly went to help him.

“Thank you,” He says as he kisses you on the cheek. “You are so nice,”

You went wide eye.

Did he just kiss me on the cheek? Gosh how much did he drink?

“Uh- y-you’re welcome. Now go to sleep kay?” You see him nod. You walked off and he calls you once again. You turned to face him.

“Aren’t you gonna join me?” He says, patting the sofa.

“What? No, no. God no. I’m good, thanks. See you in the morning,”

★★★

The sun was shining through your bedroom, meaning it was time to wake up. You made your way to the kitchen for breakfast after brushing your teeth.

You looked over towards the sofa, and to your surprise, Lando wasn’t sleeping on it. You shrugged it off and went to the kitchen to cook but your eyes were drawn to the plate on the countertop.

“made you breakfast. thank you for yesterday. eat up mon chou!” The note read.

You rolled your eyes. You’ll never hear the end of that nickname and you know it.

Deciding that this was a good enough reason to text Lando, you took out your phone to type. He was finally being nice for once….

Was this the start of the “blossoming romance” like what the other drivers said?

#f1 #f1 x you #f1 imagines #lando norris #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris imagines #mclaren #f1 driver #lando norris x reader #deltaromeo3 #lando norris x driver!reader #lando norris x teammate!reader

[honeykyeom]

white noise / track 1: st. patrick

pairing: lee seokmin x afab! reader

series summary: your best friend seokmin has always been there for you. after a particularly rough heartbreak, you find out he's there for you in more ways than just one.

series notes: uni!au, best friends to lovers, friends with benefits, kpop 97 line antics and shenanigans (specifically seventeen & loona), 18+ (smut is outlined/warned beforehand)

chapter notes: alcohol mention and consumption, house party setting, smut!!! (oral sex [afab receiving], protected sex, small insecurity mention), mingyu being pouty, yves being a terrible wingwoman, minghao being the king he is, to my jaehyun lovers i'm so sorry, this is for the orbits for the pain that we've been through

wc: 7.2k (still can't believe i wrote this much)

a/n: i've teased bringing this back a lot and this series still means so much to me, even though it still sits unfinished lol. this first track especially. and if it weren't the support (& excitement) of @onlyseokmins, idk if i ever would've reposted it. so this is for you bb <3 please let me know what you think in the tags or send in asks, i'd love to hear your thoughts! <33

“What do you think about this?”

You look over at your friend, her figure adorning a velvet tube top with loose white cloth pants, an outfit that’s comfortable and light for a steamy college party and yet accentuates her curves enough to show off. Any sane person would tell Yves that she would be the center of attention as soon as she walks through the door, having everyone question if they wanted to be her or be with her.

“It looks good,” you respond with a nonchalant shrug, going back to aimlessly scrolling on your phone, surrounded by a multi-chrome array of clothes.

You were clearly not the sane person in that scenario. 

Yves turns to you, exasperated at your attitude. “Dude, you’ve been so boring since you got your heart broken by Jaehyun.”

“I did not get my heart broken.”

“Really? Because you’re acting like the second lead who just got dumped in a drama.” 

“Your outfit and you are hot, like always! Is that what you wanted to hear,” a small chuckle leaves your lips as you stand up from the bed. “Anyways, I’m not heartbroken, just upset.”

You look over your outfit in the floor-length mirror of the room, your black booties standing out against your mid-wash jean shorts. As you play with your cardigan, your mind wanders to Jaehyun and the ghost of a fling, fleeting and indescribable to anyone not close to you. You begin to wonder how he describes you to his close confidantes, if the small cafe dates and late night study sessions in the library were described with care or if all that mattered were the rushed bedroom antics, leaving you with just a memory and an “I think we should see other people” text message. 

“Take this off. I know you and you’re going to get hot,” Yves wakes you from your daze, pulling your cardigan off your body, revealing your black cropped tank, “This is a better outfit anyway. We’re going to a party, not one of Haseul’s opera recitals.” She joins you in the mirror, a small smile gracing her face as she assesses your outfit. “Much better. Plus, this,” she gestures to your figure, “will help you get laid.”

You roll your eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what they say! To get over someone, you have to get under someone new.”

Looking at Yves, her pride evident in her stance and a mischievous gleam in her smile, you were sure of one thing. “You’re absolutely mental.”

“You know I’m right,” Yves insists. “One way to quickly get over someone is to have sex with someone else. I’ve done it.” Her shameless approach on the topic bleeds through her demeanor, her shoulder sitting low on her upper body as she sits on her bed and one of her legs drapes across the other. Just as you were about to respond to her, your phone buzzes in your back pocket, distracting you and Yves from the current conversation.

LADS ‼️💯‼️

seokmin: ya’ll going to the party tn?

haseul: can’t :/ have the late night shift at the library

mingyu: booooo tomato tomato

minghao: and what happened to fuck capitalism?

haseul: try telling our landlord that

minghao: fair enough

yn: yves and i are going!

seokmin: jinsoul?

jinsoul: social battery is pretty low, so i’m probably going to stay home

mingyu: BOOOOO tomato tomato 🍅🍅🍅 i'm throwing tomatoes!

yves: leave her alone gyu!

jinsoul: i’m not getting you coffee before class anymore for that

minghao: lmao good job gyu

yn: he will be his own downfall

mingyu: :(

seokmin: anyways the boys and i will see yall there! 

seokmin: do you need a ride?

yves: we’re taking an uber!

minghao: good. stay safe!

Yves looks up from her phone and looks at you with a playful smirk pulling at her lips. “You know what I just thought was a great idea.”

With her track record, it’s probably not a good idea.

“You should hook up with Seokmin.”

It definitely wasn’t a good idea. “Okay, now I know you’ve lost your mind.”

“You can’t tell me that you haven’t thought about it.”

You can’t deny that you haven’t thought about how your best friend would treat you in the bedroom. You would get lost in your head, thinking about how his arms had gotten toned after his recent workout sessions and how those same arms would hold you down as he made you reach cloud nine. Many would cringe at the mere thought, but with how close you and Seokmin were and how much time you two spent together, people thinking you were at least hooking up wasn’t uncommon, your cheeks getting hot any time it’s brought up. His eyes would get wide with that same sweet smile, the red flush on his ears disappearing quickly. You’d never cross that boundary just to get over a silly boy; your friendship means much more to you than a quickie.

“Just because I might’ve thought about it, doesn’t make it something that needs to happen. I’m not that desperate,” you double down on your stance, grabbing your phone to check the status of your Uber, finding any excuse to escape this conversation. The thin black line stating your driver was more than 5 minutes away, you mentally curse at whoever was upstairs who enjoys watching you suffer at the hands of Yves.

“Please, have you seen how buff he’s getting! Those arms?” a sly grin blooming on her face, she looks over at you expectantly as if you would agree with her. You do, but you’d never let her know that. Instead of entertaining her antics, you grab your personal bag, ready to leave for the night.

“Okay, you’re done. Let’s go,” you say, pulling Yves from the bed, “the Uber is almost here.”

Walking through the door of the frat house, the humidity in the air makes your shirt stick to your chest like a second skin. The packed bodies only add to the warmth inside the cramped house, you silently thank Yves for making you take off your cardigan, the couple years of your friendship proving that she knows you better than you think. She hugs your backside, keeping you close as you move through the mass of people, looking for your group of friends.

“Do you know if they’re here yet?” you hear Yves’ voice, yelling above the crowd from behind you and almost blending into the music.

You respond, bringing your face close to her ear, “Yeah, Seokmin texted me saying they were!” She nods in acknowledgment, eyes scanning the immediate area. It’s hard to miss a man towering over the crowd, his signature black hair striking against his tan skin making him stand out as he takes a sip from his red solo cup near the kitchen. Two other men stand close to him, donning similar red plastic cups, one with a bright smile that easily lights up the room, shining with the fluorescent blues and purples of the house, and the other boy making his mark with a messy mullet and trademark style that defines his frame. Even if you hadn’t recognized the trio as your best friends, you would’ve instantly taken notice, the boys immediately attracting your attention. 

“I found them!” you announce to Yves, who’s still close behind you, clinging to your arm as if her life depended on it. Grabbing her hand, you move through the crowd, not caring whose toes you stepped on or if people didn’t hear your ‘excuse us!’. It wasn’t long before you met with the trio of men, their faces lighting up as soon as they took notice of your presence and Mingyu pulling you in for a suffocating hug. 

“You finally made it!” Mingyu’s breath is hot against you as he yells over the noise, still keeping you close even after the hug was long done, his arms tucking you underneath him. His chin decides to rest on your head and naturally finding its place as his arms wrap around your figure. At first glance, people may think that the two of you were an item, but Mingyu was just close with anyone he knew, finding any reason to hug his close friends. 

“You’re lucky we made it all, hell, with how many people are here!”

“We were talking about moving to the backyard once you got here. Did you guys want a drink first?” Minghao is the one to speak up, looking at you and Yves through his bangs, bringing his red solo cup to his lips. 

A groan breaks through the air, Yves grabbing his hand as she responds, “Yes, please. I definitely need it.”

Surprisingly, the kitchen is less crowded than the common areas of the house, bodies not congregating in the area once they make their drinks. You feel instant relief, the air conditioning hitting your skin, even a nice breeze from the back door giving you much needed fresh air. The group makes their way to the kitchen island, an array of liquor, beer, and mixers lining the surface, making the workspace nonexistent. Mingyu works with what he has though, his hands moving with diligence and ease as he acts as the group’s personal bartender for the night - just like every group gathering before. 

“Hey!”

Turning towards the voice, you’re met with Seokmin, his dark hair falling against his tan skin and a smile so big that the skin near his eyes smile along with him, still sparkling with the bright party lights. Your heart grows warm seeing your best friend, the energy around him bursting with sunshine and love that anyone can feel when they enter his presence. You return his smile and saddle up to his side. Your shoulders touch as the two of you watch Mingyu mix drinks for you and Yves, who joins you and Seokmin, sitting on the kitchen counter next to him.

“I haven’t gotten to ask you, how are you doing since…” Seokmin’s words trail off and you look at him, concern etched in his face.

“Since Jaehyun? I’m not made of glass, you know. We can talk about him.”

Yves chimes in, “Don’t act like you weren’t crying about how unloveable you were just two days ago,” her snark ever prevalent in her tone. 

“Anyways!” you retort, moving your attention back to Seokmin, “I’m fine. It was just a little fling, not a big deal.”

“It’s ok to be sad. You really liked him.” Seokmin flashes you a sincere smile, so pure, so full of light, the party seems to be worth it all from this little interaction. It’d been a while since you left your cave, only earthing to join the weekly movie night with everyone. Every time you wanted to hide away underneath your sheets, when you wanted your world to be blackness, when you wanted the world to swallow you whole, Seokmin was always there, the light at the end of your tunnel, pulling you out. 

“Well, we’re not being sad tonight,” Mingyu interrupts your daze, handing you a miniature plastic cup, the same shot-sized reusable cups that were on the counter for reckless decisions like this one. “We’re here to forget about Jaehyun and enjoy our friends. Ones we know won’t leave us high and dry.” He holds his cup up to the ceiling, everyone following suit. “To our friendship!”

The clear liquid burns in your throat and you can feel it travel down your body, a chill tingling up your spine. Your nights that usually start with vodka shots don’t end too well, you think.

Cheers to you finding out what this night has in store.

A breeze wafts into the air, tripping you up and the ball you just threw blowing away with it.

“That’s not fair! The wind affected the throw!”

“Doesn’t matter! We discussed the rules before we started!”

A pout forming on your face, you stand back, giving Seokmin room for his turn. He turns to you, giving you a small pat on your lower back, muttering a soft ’it’s okay’ before his concentration is back on the five red cups laid in front of him on the table. His eyes are focused, his face still as he brings his hand up to aim, lining up his shot. The air was silent, the group paying close attention to his actions, watching him take his shot. The world seems to stop as he lets go of the plastic ball, everyone quiet until it reaches the rim of a plastic cup, toying with your emotions until it finally dips into the cup with a resounding plop.

You scream and wrap your arms around Seokmin, giddy with excitement as giggles fill the air. You don’t even care that there were still 3 cups to a victory and neither did Seokmin as he lifted you in the air, making your world dizzy. He held you tight, keeping you tucked into him even after he set your two feet back on the ground, his arms hugging you and taking place on your shoulders.

“I don’t know why Y/N is celebrating, they’ve missed every one of their shots!” Mingyu taunts, clearly trying to get under your skin. 

Before you can respond, Seokmin speaks up, “Hey! We’re closer to winning than you! And that’s bold coming from you when Yves is clearly carrying your team.”

Mingyu gets quiet at that, Yves not even able to defend her teammate, just turns to him with a sympathetic pat on his arm before lining up to take her shot. Minghao, who’s leaning comfortably on the back wall of the house, chuckles, only staying quiet once Mingyu shoots him a death glare.

Looking up at Seokmin, you pout with a small whisper, “Am I that bad?”

“What? No! Also, who cares? It’s just beer pong.” He leaves the comfort of your touch to grab the ping pong balls from the grass, both missed by Yves and Mingyu. 

“I care! For my ego.” You know he’s trying to make you feel better, trying to make sure you don’t take Mingyu’s competitive nature to heart like you tend to do. It is just beer pong. But the phrase “The more you drink, the better you are at beer pong” has exceptions and you may be one of them, the alcohol coursing through your system not helping whatsoever.

A playful smirk appears on Seokmin’s face as he says, “Would it hurt your ego if I helped you out with your form?”

You look at Seokmin through your lashes, your pout turning into a coy smile and a flirtatious lilt coming out of your tone. “No, I don’t think so.”

When Seokmin hands you the ping pong ball, he takes position behind you, lifting your hand with his, the other holding to your waist tightly. His breath was hot against your face, his voice soft and nurturing, tickling your ears, “You want to keep your wrist loose and have it high to start. It’s easier to aim from high above.”

It could be the alcohol talking, but having Seokmin this close, this intimate, had you thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to have him tangled in your sheets. The same caramel voice that was coaching you through your terrible beer pong skills, the same voice that calls you late at night to make sure you’ve made it home safely, that same voice would be coaxing you to your high, having you come apart from his words alone.

It’s definitely just the alcohol talking, you think. You hope that’s the case, anyway.

“Once you get an aim, you’ll want to let go and follow through with your throw.” Seokmin leads you in the motion he described, still keeping you close. With your confidence now elevated, the air still, and everyone quietly watching, you let go of the ball and follow its arc as it sinks into a center cup.

Pride lights your smile aglow, your first instinct to reach Seokmin for a hug in a small celebration. His grip on you is tight as he hugs you back, his eyes showering you with admiration. 

“I knew you could do it.”

“I only made that shot because of you.”

You glance over at the other side of the table. With a knowing smirk on Yves’ face, she keeps her eyesight towards the ground, preparing for her next turn. 

You won’t be hearing the end of it from her.

You lean against the folding chair you’ve taken refuge in, a sweet breeze coming in, slightly lifting the jacket that’s draped across your shoulders. Smoke from the small fire in front of you makes your eyes sting, tears filling the corners. Bringing the cup you have to your lips, a clear line of separation from the ice that has melted and the alcoholic coke visible, you shudder at the taste and hand the cup back to Mingyu. “This party is kinda boring.”

“Oh, is beating us at beer pong not enough fun for you?”

“You’re starting to sound like a sore loser, Gyu,” Minghao chimes in, nursing his own screwdriver next to you. He keeps his puff jacket unzipped, letting the heat from the fire warm him up from the chill of the night air. 

“So what if I am? Yves didn’t do all that work for nothing.”

“Speaking of Yves, where is she?” You never saw her slip away from the group, the atmosphere missing her snark and light attitude, but you’re only met with shrugs from the two men in front of you. 

“She mentioned meeting with ViVi, don’t know if she ever found her.” The voice comes from behind you with a hand meeting your shoulder, the touch not unwelcomed, recognizing it to be Seokmin. “I’m assuming she has because she’s been gone for awhile.”

Just as Seokmin rejoins the group, a fresh drink in hand, your phone buzzes on your lap with the screen illuminating your face, looking at the text.

yves: leaving with vivi, don’t wait up <3

yves: also, don’t think we won’t be talking about seokmin later 

yves: 😉

yn: we won’t be talking about him bcs nothing is nor will happen

yves: keep telling yourself that

You tune yourself out of your conversation with Yves, exhausted from the few text messages and her persistence. Turning your attention back to the group, leaning your head against Seokmin’s arm. “Yves just texted me. She left with ViVi.”

“Of course she did. I’m surprised it took her this long to make a move,” Minghao comments. The fire was now burning stronger, embers flying through the space only to land softly on the concrete. “How long has she been talking to her, anyway?”

“About 3 months now,” Mingyu answers.

“Damn… She must really like her.”

“Yeah, she never waits that long if it’s just a hookup. Even if I wanted to take someone out, I don’t think I’d wait that long.”

Minghao's eyes flicker to Seokmin, something on the edge of understanding and comfort, almost like he was sympathizing with him. Something you might have noticed if you weren’t resting on Seokmin’s hips, eyes closed as he rubs small circles on your shoulder. Something you would ask Seokmin about if you had seen. The look leaves as quickly as it came, Minghao’s face leans downcast, lips pursed as if he was holding his thoughts in.

Seokmin’s face leans close to your ear, soft and inviting as he speaks, “You getting tired?”

“Not really. Just bored,” sighing, you look up at Seokmin, meeting his eyes. “Kind of want to go home.”

“Let me take you back, make sure you get home safe. I’ll get us an Uber.”

“You just got your drink! I don’t want to end your night early.” You give Seokmin a gentle smile, a small appreciative gesture at his care. He was always taking care of you, always by your side, always giving himself to you. You wanted him to enjoy his night not worrying about you, at the very least.

Suddenly, Seokmin is walking to Mingyu, handing his cup over to the man sitting on the concrete, engulfed in conversation with Minghao. He announces his departure, telling the boys to make sure to get to their shared apartment safely and let him know when they do. Then, he’s walking back to you, grabbing your hand with such kindness, such care, before he’s looking at you expectantly. 

“Let’s go.”

Your keys clinking fill the dead space as you enter your apartment, making sure to hold the door open, inviting Seokmin to follow you. He’s been here many times, whether it was alone or with your group of friends. The apartments shared between the seven of you had an open-door policy, welcoming heartbreaks, laughs, boredom, and overall debauchery with wide arms and open cabinets. Seokmin didn’t ask any questions when he walked into your apartment last week and saw you left alone in the darkness, nursing a bowl of your comfort instant ramen, your body hidden underneath an oversized blanket. You didn’t ask any questions when he joined you in your reality tv show marathon, grabbing a blanket from your ottoman, letting the fabric swallow him whole when he settled on your couch. Neither of you said anything, sitting in a comfortable silence, your brains turned off from the stress of the week.

He knew he didn’t need to ask anything; he knew you would come to him eventually, when you were ready. 

He secretly hoped your heart would do the same.

“Did you want a drink?” your voice brings Seokmin back to reality. You were at your fridge, pulling out transparent green glass bottles. “I know you didn't get to finish yours earlier.” 

“I thought you were tired,” Seokmin ignores the question, instead looking at you incredulously.

After you open the bottles, you bring the cold bubbly liquid to your lips, walking across your kitchen island to bring Seokmin the other. “I said I was bored, not tired. There was nothing to do, just a lot of loud drunk kids.”

“That’s most frat parties, you know.”

“Yeah. I don’t know why I keep letting Yves drag me to them,” you sigh, staring past Seokmin but not focusing on anything in particular. 

“How about we play a game or something? Never have I ever?”

“You already know most everything about me! What fun would that be?”

“I bet there’s some things I don’t know about you!” While you and Seokmin had known each other since freshman year, spending most of your time together, you kept yourself guarded. Only letting Seokmin in when you were comfortable, prepared for the onslaught of judgment - which never came. Seokmin had been nothing but understanding, a warm breeze in an otherwise cold world. “How about we play 20 questions?”

You purse your lips, letting the beer bottle settle on your countertop as you think over Seokmin’s proposition. “Fine.”

“What was your first impression of me?”

You giggle to yourself, settling on your rug in the living room, thinking back to when you first met Seokmin during freshman orientation. Your knees touch his, bumping into each other as you reminisce. “What was my first impression of the goofball who followed me around like a lost puppy?”

Seokmin laughs, lighting up the room, making happiness bubble to the surface of your skin. You join in his laughter as he says, “Hey! Two lost people is better than one! Would you have not wanted me to follow you around because look at us now!”

“You’re right. Who knew that little goofball would end up being one of the best people in my life?”

“Remember during the social, Mingyu busted his ass trying to show up Minghao at b-boying?”

“Yeah and we had to help him nurse his ego in the dorm hallway?”

You and Seokmin had been inseparable that weekend, from his first awkward “Do you know where the Admin building is?” to your last “I guess I’ll be seeing you around campus”, you two finding your way back to each other come the first semester. With you two living in adjacent dorm buildings, it was easy to catch up for lunch, walk each other to class and meet in the communal study rooms. Mingyu happened to live in the same building as Seokmin and Jinsoul was your freshman year roommate. Soon, your group during the lunch break grew to include Haseul, Minghao, and Yves and solidified during sophomore year. They all held a special place in your heart, but none like Seokmin and they all knew it. Life was easier with Seokmin; midterms never seemed as difficult with his guiding light, heartbreaks never felt as lonely with his warmth and bad decisions never were so irreversible with his love.

Seokmin was and will always be your home — your light at the end of the tunnel. 

The laughter between you two dies down, an easy silence falling in the air. It isn’t until you calm down that you ask the next question, “Okay my turn.” You bring a serious expression to your face, shifting the tone from the previous lighthearted atmosphere. “Is it better to love & lose or never love at all?”

“Oh, you’re getting philosophical on me now?”

“No better time than at 1 am on a Friday night, tipsy with my best friend.”

You see Seokmin slightly wince, something that happens in a blink of an eye before it’s replaced with a pensive expression, his lips jutting out in thought. You don’t have time to point it out before he’s answering, “Isn’t it better to love & lose? I mean, what’s a world without love?” You think on his words, albeit too long as he voices, “Why? Do you feel different?”

“Personally… yeah,” you mutter. You speak a little louder, confiding to Seokmin, “It might be everything that happened with Jaehyun but I can’t see how I can be thankful for giving him my love.” 

“You… loved him?” Seokmin murmurs quietly, unable to mask his surprise. 

“Not exactly, but is it embarrassing how fast I fell for him?”

No…” Seokmin trails off, his lips in a thin line, almost like he’s trying to keep himself from saying something he wants to. It’s faint, but you notice.

“What do you want to say?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re hiding something.”

“No I’m not,” he repeats, adamant. 

“Yes you are!” you smile before continuing, “C’mon, just tell me!” You begin to poke Seokmin’s side, a prominent offensive move in your arsenal. Seokmin giggles, trying to move away from the stimulation of your jabs, but is unsuccessful as you reach over and begin your attacks on his left side.

“Y/N stop!” His demand comes out broken as he tries to catch his breath, unable to break his fits of laughter.

“Not until you tell me what you’re hiding!”

Your assault continues, your giggles getting louder, probably annoying your neighbors. Neither of you are able to catch your breath, until Seokmin suddenly grabs hold of your wrists, bringing your back to the cushion of your rug, effectively pinning you to the ground.

Your laughter dies, the room becoming dead silent, only your ragged breaths filling the air. Your chest is heaving, your lungs trying to catch the precious air around you. With Seokmin straddling your waist, it isn’t until your breathing finally slows do you realize that his face is inches away from yours. His breath is audible, face red from the commotion. 

You’ve never really looked at Seokmin this close, his mole standing out on his cheek. You notice every pore, every freckle and every line, all of it accumulating into the beauty of his face. His eyes are soft as he looks at you. The tension is unmistakably palpable, making your skin hot underneath his touch. You glance down at his lips, the curves and various shades of pink accentuating against his tan skin.

Before you can think much about it, you’re suddenly kissing him. 

And just as quick, he’s pulling away from you, eyes wide. He looks at you as if you might break, like fragile glass ready to crack at any moment. 

“Are you sure you want this?” Seokmin is sincere, voice woven with care, loosening your own heart strings. “I don’t want you to do something you’re going to regret in the morning,” he whispers, speaking softly, trying not to overstep his boundaries. His thought to put you first was the last undoing of the tangled mess of woven string in your heart, unraveled and exposing yourself to him. 

“I’m sure, Seokmin. I want you.”

You don’t get to finish your sentence before Seokmin’s lips are back on yours, swallowing your last breath.

His lips are softer than you imagine and taste of mint and whiskey, combining to create something that was uniquely Seokmin. The hairs stand up along your body, your senses being invigorated by Seokmin’s attention to your lips. Shivers run down your body from his kisses alone and once he starts trailing along your jaw and neck, your skin lights fire, igniting the burning desire within you. 

His hands leave your wrists, bringing them to your torso, keeping you close against him as your hands immediately cling to his neck, breathing heavily. He runs small circles along your skin, making you go dizzy.

Panting, you manage to whisper through your short breaths, “Should we take this somewhere that, you know, isn’t my living room floor?”

Seokmin keeps his attention on your neck as he responds between kisses, “I don’t know. I was ready to take you right here.”

“Do you want me to blow my back out?”

“Oh, you’ll be getting your back blown out no matter where you are.. so it’s really up to you.” You can feel him smile against your neck with a small nip. You moan at his words, his confidence making you quiver. This kind of arrogance isn’t something you’re used to seeing on Seokmin, but you can’t deny that it looks good on him, easily molding you like clay under his fingers. 

You play it cool, though, or you hope, at least. “I’d rather not have sex with you on my living room rug.”

“Fair enough.”

SMUT WARNING !

As soon as you shut the door, Seokmin finds his hands all over you, bringing you back to his mouth. One of his hands lands on your waist, kneading at your skin underneath your crop top, slightly lifting the fabric. He held on tight, not wanting to let you go, afraid of you disappearing from his grasp. He can’t help but think this is all a dream — his ears ringing with your whines, his fingers grazing your goosebumps, it was everything he’d fantasized about. 

“Seokmin…” Your voice sounds sweet in his ears, blissful, a desire dripping from it that he’s never heard from you before. 

“What is it?”

Your breath on him is hot, heavy against his skin. “Can we hurry this up because I need you,” you sigh, a small teasing smile playing against your lips. Your hands were grabbing at his clothes desperately, the tug and pull making Seokmin’s head spin. He lets out an airy chuckle, pulling you closer.

Seokmin leads you to your bed, your back hitting the mattress as he runs his hands along your thighs, still leaving kisses along your neck. He trails along the length of your body, down your neck, your clothed chest, your stomach, leaving languid kisses. He was in no rush, wanting this night to last as long as possible, even if it was already two in the morning. He could have you underneath him for hours, your hands pulling at the strands on his head.

He reaches the bottom of your shirt, playing with the hem, leaving open mouthed kisses along your stomach. “Can I?” He asks, referring to your crop as he looks at you, eyes meeting yours. He didn’t want to do anything out of comfort zone, feeling lucky enough to be in this position. As much as the flirty banter made both of your positions clear, he wanted to give you any opportunity to back out if you were ever uncomfortable with crossing the imaginary boundary of your friendship. 

You nod and slowly, Seokmin begins to lift your top, revealing your torso. It took everything in him to not confess to you right then and there, the alcohol flowing in his system removing the filter in his mind. He wanted to kiss you all over, sing sweet praises, tell you how much he’d always wanted this and more, how he’s been in love with you since that freshman orientation weekend — everything that’s been on his mind these past two years.

But he settles with a “God, you’re so beautiful,” hoping that you’d recognize the whiskey lacing his words instead of the yearning.

“Why are you acting so surprised? You’ve seen me in a bikini before!”

He has seen you in a bikini and Seokmin had to take a cold shower when he rinsed the chlorine off of his body for the day, hoping you hadn’t noticed his lingering eyes.

“Can’t a guy just compliment his best friend’s naked body before he fucks them?”

He’s also hoping that you don’t notice how hard it was for him to say that, disguising his wince with a teasing smile.

You begin to unbutton your jean shorts, your hands dancing around the waistband of the material. “Are you actually going to fuck me or are you just going to talk about it?”

Oh, you were going to be the death of him. He fears that you know that.

“I should’ve known you were going to be a brat,” Seokmin mutters, still loud enough for you to hear as he pulls down your shorts down your legs. He’s met with a visible wet patch on your black underwear, which almost takes him out right at that moment. The damp fabric is stuck to your cunt, like a second skin. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“You’re so wet,” Seokmin responds, getting closer to the gap between your legs, blowing puffs of air from his words, making you shake from the stimulation. 

“Is that a bad thing?” He can hear the insecurity in your voice, the confidence from earlier breaking with you slowly pulling your legs together. Seokmin counteracts this action, bringing your legs apart and opening yourself up to him once again. He plants a soft kiss on your inner thigh and he feels the tension release from your body, welcoming his touch.

He looks up at you earnestly. “Of course not. It’s hot.” He toys with your panties, waiting for your approval to continue.

“You can take them off, Seokmin.”

That was all Seokmin needed, peeling your underwear off. 

Seokmin thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. Seeing you bare, spread open for him and only him, was something he’d never believed would happen to him in this lifetime. He’s awestruck at your beauty, only able to respond by kissing your thighs repeatedly, your moans only encouraging him. 

He lowers himself close to your pussy and licks a slow, long stroke along your bud. You grab at his head instantly, a whine coming out of you. He circles your folds, teasingly slow, savoring every moment he has between your legs. You taste sweet, more enticing than any of Seokmin’s dreams. His hands took purchase on your waist, pulling you closer to him when you’d steer away. Your arousal builds and he’s quick to flit his tongue against your clit.

“Fuck! Have you always been good at this?” you choke out, the question coming out broken and breathy, a moan following.

Seokmin smiles against you, laughing quietly, the vibrations tickling against his lips. His pride was swelling, hearing you, the person he’s been in love with for two years now, cry for him. The feeling is making him insatiable, the desire to make you cum overriding any other thought in his mind. Your fingers that were in his hair started to pull harder, fervid as the pleasure overtook you. 

The ache in between his legs, his dick squeezing in between the fabric of his jeans, started to become excruciating. Seokmin slowly grinds against the mattress, searching for any relief for his own hard-on. It proves to be useless, his arousal moving three steps forward and one step back each time you moan his name. His face was covered in you as you jerk against him, riding out the sensations.

He ghosts his fingers to your entrance, hovering over it, teasing you with the prospect of having them inside of you. He keeps his fingers where they are until you wail, begging for them.

“Seokmin, stop teasing…” your voice trails, punctuated with a gasp, from Seokmin slipping his fingers inside of you.

He didn’t need any lubrication, you were dripping enough for him. The sounds that were coming out of your cunt were lewd and it only turned Seokmin on more, blood rushing to his cock and the strain against his jeans becoming even more unbearable to ignore. He can feel you clenching around his fingers; he knows you’re close. Once he reaches the bumpy surface of your g-spot, your muscles tense even more and your breath hitches, your legs squeezing Seokmin.

“Let go for me,” he whispers with a kiss to your clit. A second later, you’re coming undone, back arching off of the mattress. Your walls pulse against his fingers, making his cock twitch. His eyes were transfixed on your figure, watching you fall apart because of him. You were beautiful, this he always knew to be true, but the image of you tensing around him and cumming against his fingers would be engraved in his mind for the rest of his life. 

You begin to come down from your high, Seokmin kissing your inner thigh, eyes shining with awe as he continues to slowly pump in and out of you. You look down at him, relaxing your hands that were once gripping his hair with superhuman strength. He didn’t mind, though. He never minded anything when it came to you, especially since he knew that he was the reason for the overwhelming pleasure.

“Oh my god… Seriously, where did you learn to eat pussy like that?” you breathe out, still trying to catch your breath. 

“I don’t know,” Seokmin chuckles as he slowly pulls his fingers out of you. “I guess I’m just a natural.”

You sit up, reaching for Seokmin’s chin as you bring his lips to yours, taking his breath away. He's completely intoxicated by you, the alcohol wearing off and being replaced by your allure. It still amazes him how you have him trapped under your spell, wrapped around your finger — and you don’t even know it. Seokmin is so lost in your kiss, he doesn’t realize that he’s now on his back with you straddling him, your hands fumbling with his zipper.

“Let me take care of you,” you coo, your lips still close to his, brushing against them softly.

It pains Seokmin, the thought of your mouth around his length, his body shivers with the image in his mind. “I’m going to be honest, while I’d love to have you sucking me off, I’d cum in 30 seconds,” he confesses. “I need to be inside of you. Now.” You smile so bright, so enchanting, Seokmin is already seeing stars when you kiss him again, only breaking the kiss to take off his pants and underwear and he removes his shirt.

“Do you have a condom?” he asks, lingering on your body as you remove your bra.

“There’s one inside my nightstand.”

Once Seokmin rolls the condom down his length, your body hovering over him, he finally realizes that this is actually happening. This might not be the way he thought it would ever happen, but he doesn’t have much time to think about it before you’re sinking down on him, enveloping his cock in your heat with a curse. 

You pause, eyes screwed shut as you mentally curse. Tears threaten to fall, pooling to the side of your eyes. Seokmin sees this and panics, immediately sitting up, rubbing soft circles on your cheek. “Hey, hey, are you okay? What’s wrong?” He speaks softly, comforting, afraid that you would crack.

You shake your head, finally opening your eyes to look at him. “It’s nothing, it’s just…” 

“Just what?”

“I just had to adjust. You’re…” you pause, thinking carefully on your words, “much bigger than I anticipated.”

Seokmin can’t help but feel smug. He can feel you clenching around him, squeezing the life out of his cock. He can’t hide his smirk, but he’s quick to give you a tender kiss, feeling you relax on top of him. “Just relax. You set the pace,” he soothes and you nod in response.

He stays sitting up as you slowly start to rock back and forth on his lap and Seokmin is already seeing stars, holding back moans. You start slow and easy, setting a rhythmic pace, building pleasure and you lean your head on his shoulder. “Fuck, Seokmin.”

“What is it, baby?” The pet name slips out before Seokmin can catch it. He mentally curses, hoping you don’t notice. It tastes sweet on his tongue, like it was meant to come out of his mouth. 

“You feel so good,” you moan, punctuating the statement with a clamp on his cock.

“I can say the same for you.” It was embarrassing how close Seokmin already was, completely drunk on you. Every squeeze, every whine brought him closer to his dissolve; it took every ounce of Seokmin’s self-control to not let go right there. It took everything in him to not confess, tell you that this was everything he’d ever dreamt of, that he was helplessly and completely in love with you. Seeing you drunk on him, on his cock, was shattering all of his resolve.

“Seokmin, I’m so close,” you whine.

Thank God, Seokmin thinks. His hands that were on your waist guide you, bouncing you up and down on his cock, helping you reach your high. “C’mon, baby, you can do it.” Fuck, I’ve got to stop saying that… 

He feels your nails dig into him, creating crescent moons and threatening to break skin as the tension that was building in your body starts to snap, an overwhelming amount of electricity coursing through your veins. Seokmin’s willpower is left on a thread, feeling your velvet walls tense around his cock, he’s close to his own climax. Once he’s looking at you, seeing your pleasure wash over you, your eyebrows furrowed and a symphony of moans releasing from your mouth, he’s done for. His orgasm crashes against him and he grips your waist tightly, keeping your body at a steady pace as he empties inside of you. 

You're both left panting, bodies spent and going still. All that’s left in the air is your breath and the humidity as you both come down from your highs. Seokmin doesn’t know what comes over him, but the overwhelming need to kiss you takes over his body. He doesn’t think, just reaches up and pulls you to his lips, kissing you passionately until his thoughts come back to him.

Well, where do we go from here?

#seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seokmin x reader #dk x reader #seokmin smut #dk smut #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom smut #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #svt smut #svt scenarios

[m0llygunn]

Apologies and Promises (eddie munson x fem!reader)

Part 3 to Same Old Song and Dance 01 / 02 Summary: Hurt feelings hidden under the shallow guise of anger and indifference, in an inebriated state there’s no choice but to face the layers of truth.

Tropes: enemies to lovers (kind of), mean stubborn idiots in love, honestly idk at this point. Warnings: 18+! mature language, ‘bullying’, forcible wrist holding, pet names (princess, sweetheart, angel, baby), mentions of oral (m receiving), angst, alcohol consumption, vomit mention. Author’s note: I am resisting the urge to over explain why theres no smut and this chapter was needed to progress feelings (i know smut is a selling point IM SORRY... but soon i swear it'll be back). wc: 7.2k+

tags: @needylilgal022 @tlclick73 @ropickle @suethh @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @emma77645 @yujyujj

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You didn’t wait around for him to show but you also didn’t expect to have to wait around for him to show.

You’re not disappointed. Why should you be? You didn’t want him to pick you up anyways. 

If anything, you’re pissed. 

He relentlessly badgered you last night about it. Wouldn’t leave until you agreed to let him drive you to school. He was so insistent, that he nearly slept on your floor using that stupid notebook as a pillow.

You’re not disappointed. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Want me to knock him out?” Steve offers and you can’t help but laugh. 

Steve was dropping off his coworker-turned-best friend, Robin, when you were walking into school. He’s a close family friend— and Nancy’s on-again-off-again boyfriend, so you happily stopped for a chat. 

“Steve. I hate to break it to you but Munson’s a veteran school fighter. He might not win every fight but he’s definitely been in more fights than you.” You say, patting Steve on the cheek as he comically deflates before you.

“Hey! I won the last fight I was in and I’ve been working on my biceps, can’t you tell?” He says, flexing his arms. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You smile, watching Steve flex his unnoticeably larger arms until he rounds up his antics and leans back against his car. “Your dad at that work conference thing too?” You ask, curiously wondering if it really is a work trip your dad’s on right now. 

“Absolutely. Any chance to get away, right?” Steve says with a somber laugh. 

“I know the feeling...any chance.” You reply, nodding your head in agreement.

“Yeah, well.” Steve shrugs. “Might throw a party, might not.” He says indifferently. You perk up at the idea of a party. It’s always the same crowds that show, you know the list of attendees like the back of your hand.

“You should, I can get Nance to come along, maybe you can rekindle.” You say, hitting Steve’s arm. This could be to his benefit too, Nancy has been bringing him up again recently and that’s always the catalyst to the ‘on again’ portion of their relationship.

“You got some kind of insight?” Steve replies, eyes studying you.

You purse your lips, choosing your words wisely. “Can't say. Bad enough I already told you my business, can’t tell you her business too, Stevie.” 

Steve smiles, shaking his head, accepting your answer because he knows that’s as close as he’ll get to you spilling Nancy's secrets. 

He knows all about your rivalry with Munson, and as much as he doesn’t like the guy, he was actually the first one who suggested sleeping with him quite some time ago. It was a joke of course… yet here you are. You figured he deserved to know that he was some sort of prophet, so you filled him in. Not in as much detail as you did with Nancy, but you told him the gist of it. 

Your conversation with Steve simmers to a lull, both of you watching over the crowd of students funnelling from the parking lot into the school. You’re not explicitly looking for it, but you can’t help but notice the lack of a certain obnoxiously loud van. 

“You’re good, right?” Steve asks, shoulder bumping your own.

“Yeah.” You sigh.

“You sure?” He asks again, turning towards you enough to gauge your reaction. You shrug your shoulders.

“Maybe a little embarrassed.” You say, shifting back and forth on your feet, eyes still flickering over the bustling parking lot. 

“Don’t be. Fuck him.” He says making you snort a laugh.

“Fuck him?” You question, smirk playing on your lips.

“No! I mean, unless you want to. But he did stand you up so…” Steve says trailing off. You try to laugh it off but it sounds more like a scoff. 

“Yup. Eddie Munson stood me up.” You say, words rolling off your tongue in a confusing cross between regret and hurt even when you meant for it to be a joke. A laughable comment between two friends who know how you and Eddie interact, who know he’s nothing more than a nuisance to you, nothing more than an incessant house fly that just won’t quit circling you. 

You never thought you’d be saying that in this lifetime. You never thought he’d have the opportunity to stand you up. 

You tell yourself you’re not disappointed, but the words sure do taste like it. 

You shrug your shoulders, shaking off your thoughts. “I should go, bell’s about to ring.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was during your second period math quiz. A timid, curly headed freshman knocked on the door interrupting the silence of the room. 

Mrs. Rotman stood from her desk, crossing the room, engaging in a whispered conversation with the boy. She turned to look around the room, eyes flitting over the students before landing on you. She turned back to the boy, whispered something to him and sent him on his way. 

You tried to pretend you were busy doing your quiz but it was hard with her eyes focused on you as she walked in your direction.

“Honey, your fathers in the office for you. Something about a family emergency. Don’t worry about the quiz, sweetie.” She whispered, leaning down to your level with sullen eyes that made your heart rate pick up.

“Family emergency?” You questioned anxiously. 

“Yes dear, go on and head down to the office.” She said, patting your back. 

Leaving behind your quiz that you barely had a chance to start on, you quietly let yourself out of the class. 

Speed walking down the hall, opening the door to the stairwell with enough force for the sound to echo against the cement walls and linoleum floors, you hurry to descend the stairs. With your mind busy, rifling through what potential family emergency would bring your father back to town, you didn’t even notice him standing by the stairwell exit until you stepped down onto the landing. 

There’s a moment before he looks at you. A moment where your heart beats faster. A moment where you’re flooded with scary feelings. A moment were you remember last night. And a moment were you remember this morning.

“Oh for god's sake.” You groan, leaving that moment behind, churning everything into a genuine annoyance because you fell for such a stupid trick. 

“Princess, funny seeing you here. Daddy’s been waiting.” Eddie says, smirk plastered on his face, waiting with his back against the wall, trying to exude some sort of coolness that he doesn’t possess. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You spit, burning hot from the inside out. Eddie deflates in front of you, smirk dropping as he steps away from the wall towards you.

“No?” He says, almost like he’s asking you. 

“Why the fuck would you think this was okay?” You sneer, voice raising in volume. He shrinks further.

“Just wanted to see you.” He shrugs, eyes falling to the ground.

If he 'wanted to see you', he wouldn’t have stood you up. 

“You wanted to see me?” You scoff bewilderedly.

“Yeah, and apologize for this morning.” He says, eyes flickering up to you.

You spin on your heels, ready to explain the situation to Mrs. Rotman and go back to finishing your quiz. You don't want to hear an apology for that.

“Shit— Princess, come back!” He calls after you. You hear feet clambering, catching up to you just as you clear the first set of stairs. His grasp captures your wrist and you get the eeriest sense of deja vu.

“Princess, c’mon, let me apologize.” He says, voice pleading as you try to tug yourself free.

“No. You can apologize to Mrs. Rotman’s math class for interrupting everyone during the quiz.” You huff, using all your weight to try and free yourself. 

“No, let me apologize to you.” He insists. You feel your heart rate pick up and in an instant you spin, startling Eddie with your fast movement. 

“Do you think this is funny, Eddie?” You spit, brows furrowed, face flushing hot in anger.

With his mouth pulled in a flat line, he shrugs. 

You know he's hardly phased by your spitfire and you step closer to up the ante. 

“No, seriously? Are you having fun, Eddie? Answer the question.” You say, burning your gaze into his. 

He doesn't indulge you in an answer, he just looks at you with round eyes. He doesn't cower, he doesn’t spit heated words back, he just remains looking at you with his stupidly big eyes. You're not even sure if his disposition is meant to soothe you, but it does and you hate it. It irons out nearly every wrinkle of anger and you hate it. 

“I know none of this matters to you, Eddie, but it matters to me.” You say, mustering up every blazing emotion you have left in you but it comes out too gentle to be anger.

“What matters to you?” He asks quietly, his face softening, eyes getting impossibly rounder. His grip on your wrist loosens as he steps closer to you. 

You press your lips closed, breathing deeply to compose yourself. Your sentiment is ambiguous, you recognize that. Whether is was purposeful or not is a mystery to even you. You wouldn't admit this matters, whatever this is between you and Eddie, never. You couldn't.

Even if you didn't leave space for ambiguity, you know what he's asking right now. Does he matter to you, does this matter to you?

“School, idiot.” You say quietly. You cover ambiguity by shutting him down and embellishing it with an insult. It's a lie, you both know it. It’s an orchestrated move at this point; he steps right, you step left.

He moves in closer to you, toe to toe, his chest less than arm's length away. His grip on your wrist slides down, stopping just before your palm, inches away from being a hand hold.

“You're only upset because I took you away from your quiz?” He asks quietly, amusement hinting in his tone. His eyes flicker to your lips.

“Yes.” You reply flatly. You lick your lips instinctively and you mentally scold yourself.

“No, you're not.” He laughs softly, eyes only watching your lips now. “You're really that desperate to finish a math quiz?” He asks, amusement becoming forthright.

He does think this is funny and it makes your blood boil. 

“Stop doing that.” You sneer but it comes out weak.

“Stop doing what?” He asks, eyes still unmeeting of yours.

His overconfidence and arrogance buzzes around in your head, spurring on your anger. You feel cornered by him calling your bluff and nothing good has ever come from that, especially when your heart is beating so fast you can't hear your own thoughts.

“Assuming you know me, Eddie. You don’t.” You snap, hammering your words into him like nails in a coffin, punctuating your words with a tug of your wrist but his grasp hardens, not letting you go.

He finally looks up at you, eyes meeting your gaze and you can tell your words stung by the mirrored reflection of hurt. He looks taken aback. Whatever he thought was about to happen, you pulled it out from under him like a mean trick and hurt switches to anger.

“So you’re really only upset because you’re here?” He scoffs, brows pinching.

“I just fucking said that.” You spit back.

“And you’re not at all upset because I didn’t pick you up this morning?” And that's all he has to say to send you into a flighty panic. You won't look truth in the eye, you can't.

“Eddie. Let go.” You seethe, tugging your wrist harshly. You bring your other hand to his in an attempt to pry his fingers off. His grip isn’t enough to hurt you, it’s simply unrelenting, a desperate attempt to finish this conversation.

"Princess—" He starts but you interrupt him, not wanting to hear anymore, not wanting to give him another opportunity to throw your own feelings in your face.

"Let go." You say, your volume raising out of desperation.

“Fine. Just fucking relax for a minute, Jesus Christ.” He groans, when you start swatting at his forearm. His own annoyance rises and it pisses you off because what does he have to be annoyed about? He’s not the one that got stood up. 

“I am relaxed!” You shriek, squeezing your eyes shut and stamping your foot. 

Eyes still closed, you listen to your own voice echoing off the walls, forcing you to hear yourself. It sounds like a reverb of hurt between the two of you. Despite the meaningless message your words attempt to convey, it sounds like a slip of honesty, a slip of your true feelings and how he’s affected them. It sounds tears short of being an angered cry.

A beat passes before the echoes subside, leaving the two of you in silence.

“Princess.” Eddie whispers softly. His voice isn’t loud like yours, it doesn’t vibrate off the walls but it still echoes in your consciousness, occupying a space hugged tightly next to your heartbeat. 

You feel fingertips ghost over your cheeks, delicate in nature despite residing in the antagonistic warland that you and Eddie have fostered together. Your heart catches in your throat and you hate it. 

Your face pinches in its default anger. You ready yourself to scold him, but when you open your eyes and all you see is soft, warm brown staring back at you, it doesn’t come. You hate it. 

He closes his grasps on your face, both hands holding you gently by the jaw. Both hands.

Your wrist set free, you pull away, storming back down the stairs. He steps forward, you run away— another orchestrated move.

Hearing yourself is too much, you need air. You need somewhere where your own thoughts can't reverb like your words against cement and linoleum. You need something to get you thinking straight.

Scuffing sneakers echo behind you as you clear the staircase, cross the foyer, and push open the door to the parking lot. You expect a hand around your wrist again but it doesn’t come. 

You slow to a walk and so does he, his steps crunching on the pebble covered pavement as he trails behind you quietly.

You round the corner of the building before leaning against the wall, expectant hand held out towards Eddie.

He tentatively raises his arm, fingers grazing yours, palm just barely ghosting your own, before you smack him away.

“No you idiot, cigarette.” You say, exhaling deeply. 

He mumbles an embarrassed apology before digging through his pocket.

“Here.” He says quietly, passing over his carton of camels.

You pull one out, placing it between your lips, Eddie’s eyes watching your every move. Flickering the lighter that was tucked into the empty space of the box, you light it up, smoke pluming from the corners of your lips as you take your first drag. Eddie swallows harshly, lost in thought.

“Well?” You snap, his eyes fleeting back to yours. 

“R-right. I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up this morning, princess. I’m really really sorry.” He says softly, strumming the chords of your heart with his words. You hate it.

“Why should you be sorry about that, I didn’t want you to anyways.” You say, trying to sound indifferent. You don’t though. You hear your own voice just like you did in the stairwell and you sound like a little kid who hasn’t quite mastered the art of fibbing. It’s a jejune lie, not even a good one.

“I said I would though, and I didn’t. I’m sorry.” He says, round eyes set on you.

The sun glimmers against his hair making the wavy brown strands look golden, a perfect match to the gold in the eyes staring at you right now.

He’s genuinely sorry, you believe him, and you hate it.

Continuing on your juvenile streak, you pocket his lighter before handing back his carton. You know he sees you do it but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Whatever, Eddie.” You mumble, taking a drag from your cigarette. 

You let your head fall against the brick behind you, eyes scanning thoughtlessly over the surrounding thick tree line. Eddie takes a step, his shoulder hitting the wall as he leans against it, still facing you. 

“Don't you wanna know where I was?” He asks carefully, a testing tease lingering around his words.

“Not really, but I have a feeling you’re gonna tell me anyway.” You retort, folding your arms over your chest, your burning cigarette skillfully held out to not get ash on yourself. Eddie exhales a light laugh before leaning into you. 

“Well, princess.” He starts, leaning in even closer. “I accidentally slept in because I was too busy staying up all night thinking about this girl who gave me the best head of my life.”

“Gross.” You scoff, hiding your smile by taking another drag.

“Fuck yeah. It was certified sloppy toppy. I think I was reborn yesterday, died and got as close to heaven as I ever will.” He says, body twisting so his head knocks against the brick wall dramatically. 

“Now you're just sucking up.” You grimace, taking another drag.

He laughs softly before the both of you fall into a quiet lull. You partially expected him to make some kind of joke out of ‘sucking up’ but he doesn’t. Only the sound of trees blowing in the wind can be heard, along with scattered chirps of birds in the distance.

“Are you still mad at me?” He asks, breaking the silence. You let your eyes flicker to him before focusing back on your barely burnt cigarette. You drop it, stomping it out under your shoe. It was a waste of a cigarette, but Eddie doesn’t say anything.

“I wasn’t mad at you.” You reply, facing towards the tree line again. 

“Okay, princess.” He sings, clearly not believing you. “But everything aside… we’re good?” He asks, watching you carefully.

“Eddie.” You exhale. That’s a big thing for him to ask of you and he doesn’t even realize it. How can you say that everything between the two of you is good when… What even is there between the two of you? Are you even friends? It's another truth you're not willing to face.

“Princess, tell me we’re okay or else you’ll keep me up another night.” He says, slouching his shoulders. 

“You’re being dramatic.” You laugh. He steps closer to you, hand raising and grasping a piece of your hair. You watch in your periphery as he swirls it between his fingers.

“I’ll never get another wink of sleep, I’m begging you. Tell me we’re okay or tell me how to fix it.” He says, tiptoeing even closer to you.

“Eddie.” You laugh again, shaking your head. The hair between his fingers falls but he’s quick to reach for the strands that fell into your face, skillfully tucking it behind your ear.

“All I’m asking for is your forgiveness. What d’you say, angel?” He whispers. You turn your head, looking at him skeptically with raised brows. 

“Angel? I think that’s hardly a fitting name.” You scoff.

“Trust me, it’s fitting. After last night.” He says, hand retreating from you to grab his heart dramatically, throwing his body back against the brick wall in a swoon. 

“Suck up.” You say trying to hide your amusement. You watch him as he continues his antics, biting your lip to hide your smile. 

He turns to you, looking up through his lashes, feigning a faux innocence.

“So what d’ya say, princess?" He questions, quirking a brow at you. "Want me to kiss it better?” He asks with a deep grin, eyes amusedly awaiting your response. 

You pause, not necessarily thinking about his offer but more so distracted by the way the sun reflects off of his eyes making them glow golden again.

He takes your pause as a yes, stepping into you, hands grabbing behind your ears, cradling your neck. He presses sloppy kisses all over your cheeks and up to your forehead, all while you protest through giggles. It’s sickeningly sweet. Truly sickening. You hate it.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Why’d you ask my friends where I was yesterday, princess? Are you, like, obsessed with me?” Eddie mocks into your ear startling you.

“Oh no.” You groan to yourself, flashing Nancy a preemptive apologetic look. 

“Princess, d’ya happen to have a lighter? Mine seems to have gone missing.” He says, moving on from his original remark, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. 

“No, sorry. I don’t smoke, it’s a dirty habit.” You say flatly, keeping your focus on your lunch and Nancy sitting across from you.

“Oh, that’s crazy I could have sworn I saw you hanging out in the back of the school with some guy smoking earlier? I must have been mistaken.” He says, arm wrapping around your shoulder as he throws one leg over the cafeteria bench, straddling it. 

“We weren’t ‘hanging out’.” You scoff.

“Right, right. I was groveling, my bad, princess.” He laughs. 

You look up at Nancy and she’s shaking her head, lips pursed tightly, holding back her ‘I-told-you-so’ smile. Eddie doesn't typically bother you at lunch, so to Nancy, this very much looks like him 'getting worse'.

“Eddie, don't you have somewhere else to sit?” You say, shrugging his arm off your shoulder. 

“What? Can’t come have lunch with my girl?” He teases, scooting closer to you, his knee pushing against your thigh, your shoulder practically resting against his chest. 

“I just barely forgot about the stunt you pulled earlier, you’re pushing your luck, Munson.” You warn.

“Don’t call me that.” He says flatly.

“Munson? That’s your name, isn’t it?” You laugh.

“Nope, not to you it isn’t.” He replies flatly, grabbing a grape off your lunch tray before you can stop him. 

“Is there a reason you’re here?” You say, his arrogance pinching at your agitation.

“Lighter.” He sings, eyes sparkling with amusement meeting yours, stealing another grape in the process. Turning his head, he focuses on Nancy. “Wheeler, how’s it going?”

“Good.” She laughs, still shaking her head. 

“Heard you tattled on me to Princess.” He says, eyebrows raised, a smile playing on his face.

“Eddie, leave her alone.” You huff. You feel his hand raise up your back, settling slowly, before rubbing back and forth. He leans in closer to you, face brushing against your hair.

“Gotta share the attention sometimes, princess.” He whispers just loud enough for you to hear. His breath tickles the shell of your ear and you feel your heart rate pick up.

You sit up straighter, Eddie’s chin knocking into your shoulder as you reach into your front pants pocket.

“Lighter. There. Leave.” You say, finding his free hand to push it into his hold. 

“Good girl.” He teases, quickly pulling you closer to him with a hand on your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

You feel yourself burning hot and it takes everything in you not to hit him back with some sort of insult but you know if you do he’ll just stick around for longer. 

He gets up from the bench with a coy wave of his fingers and a polite nod to Nancy, disappearing into the crowd of the lunch room.

“Nancy, if you say ‘I told you so’, I swear to god.” You say, holding back your smile as you watch your friend’s eyes burst with amusement. 

“I wasn’t going to say I told you so!” She laughs. 

“I can see it in your eyes Nancy, I know you’re dying to say it.” You reply.

“I won’t say it… but I will say that you’re blushing pretty hard right now.”

“Out of embarrassment! That was embarrassing, Nancy.”

“People aren’t usually that smiley after being embarrassed.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Eddie kept his eyes on the prize all night. Not in a creepy way, just to make sure you were okay… and because he just liked looking at you. You were making it awfully hard though, the way you kept disappearing between the groups of people occupying Harrington’s infamous Saturday night party. 

His goal was to sell what he needed to sell, then he could have his fun. So when he sold his last eighth, his heart rate picked up as he bounded through the waves of people to find you. 

He would be lying if he said he didn’t get a pang of nerves when he finally found you, all alone in the kitchen, getting yourself a drink. 

Steve decided late Friday night that the party was on. He called you up and from there you called Nancy. It’s a practiced drill at this point, Steve calls a few people, who call a few more people, and the word gets around pretty quickly. Eddie got news that night, and it was a given he would sell. He always sells at Harrington parties, similar to how you’re always drinking at them. 

“All your friends scurry off on you, Princess?” An all too familiar voice says right into your ear.

“No.” You say flatly, turning to see Eddie at your side. 

“That’s funny, I only see you.” He says, eyes teasingly looking around you before settling back to meet your gaze.

“You should get your eyes checked, there’s like 20 other people in here.” You say, motioning to all the other bodies occupying the room. 

“You know what I mean.” Eddie says, hip bumping yours gently as you pour from a bottle of something highly alcoholic into your cup. 

“Do I?” You laugh before quickly shooting back your drink. 

“Look at her, she’s a professional.” Eddie teases as you scrunch your face through the burning sensation in your throat, some of the liquid spilling down the corners of your lips from your overzealous tilt of the cup. Without as much as a second though, Eddie’s hand raises to you, wiping your chin dry. 

“Why are you so nice now?” You ask, leaning closer to him so he can hear you over the music. 

“I’m not.” He smiles, eyes leaving yours to watch as you set the empty cup down on the counter. He knows he’s lying, you both do. 

“Is it because I sucked your dick?” You giggle.

You take another step closer to him where he leans against the counter. His eyes meet yours again with a mixture of amusement and shock looming on the surface of his gaze.

“You’re more drunk than you look, princess” He holds your gaze, amusement taking the reigns until his eyes lower to the short distance you’ve created between the two of you. 

“I’m not drunk.” You scoff, rolling your eyes. Eddie watches you, you can tell he’s smiling and you’re not even looking at him. 

“Where’s Wheeler gone? You were with her all night.” He asks, changing the subject. You turn your head, meeting his gaze, lifting your eyebrows as you decipher his question. 

“You were watching me all night?” You ask teasingly, a smile playing on your lips. 

“Princess.” He exhales, rolling his own eyes jokingly. The way his little nickname for you rolls off his tongue makes your already dizzy head spin. 

“She went upstairs with Steve.” You answer, letting your hand rest on the counter, pinky brushing the material of his jeans where he leans against the marble countertop. 

“I hope she’s not as drunk as you are.” He replies, eyes on your fingers as you continue to brush them against him. You shake your head. You could tell him that their rendezvous was premeditated, and a recurring pattern between the two, but you don’t want to talk about them. 

“Aren’t you just the sweetest? First you took care of me when I was sick, now you’re looking out for my friends. Such a sweet boy.” You coo, leaning into Eddie, removing your hand from the countertop and placing it flat on his chest to stabilize yourself. 

“Baby, I think you're too drunk, look at you being sweet.” He laughs and you dip your head, hiding the way his words affect you. You’re always ‘princess’, never ‘baby’. It makes your heart beat faster and your skin prickle.

You can’t help but notice how he doesn’t touch you though. He’s always poking and prodding at you in one way or another. Last time you saw him, he was all hands and kisses to your cheeks, but now, nothing.

“Did you make a lot of money tonight?” You ask, stepping in closer to him, your thigh pressing into his as you stand beside him.

“I did good enough.” He shrugs, arms staying closely to his sides and it almost makes you want to pout. He should be grabbing your hand or twirling your hair, doing what he always does. 

“You were busy all night.” You mumble, your head down, watching as you kick at his shoe before stepping over it with one foot. Still leaning against the counter, he shifts, arms moving at his side and you almost get excited before you realize he's just crossing them over his chest. You lower your hand, sitting it closer to his hip as you move to stand directly in front of him. 

“You were watching me all night?” He mocks, copying your same lilt.

“I set myself up for that one didn’t I?” You whisper, head down. He’s still not touching you.

“You did.” He replies, exhaling a laugh. You rest your other hand on his crossed arms, hoping he’ll get the hint but he doesn’t and you sigh, slouching into yourself. 

“What’s wrong, princess?” He asks, quietly.

“You.” You reply flatly. 

“Yeah, but you’re all pouty. You don’t pout. You scowl. Yell. Threaten violence.” He teases gently, dipping his face enough to meet your gaze. 

“You’re not touching me.” You mumble, words so quiet you can barely hear them yourself over the blaring music.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, leaning his ear closer to you. You step in closer to him, pushing your way between his legs.

“I said, you’re not touching me.” You grumble, annoyed that you have to repeat yourself. Even more annoyed when he hears you and still doesn’t touch you. You huff, pushing your body flat against his, but he stops you, hands on your shoulders holding you away from him.

“Princess, I can’t. You’re drunk.” He says firmly, serious eyes meeting yours. Your knee shakes as you try to stop yourself from stomping your foot. 

“You can. You just want to piss me off.” You say, funnelling all of your emotions and forcing them into a short lived anger. 

“Trust me, that’s not why.” He says softly, thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your shoulders. You happily focus on his simple caresses on your bare skin, but the feeling it gives you just leaves you wanting more.

“You're touching me right now, Eddie. Just keep doing that.” You whine, giving him your best pout paired with doe-eyes. His gaze soften, eyes fluttering over your features.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” He says, flashing you a small smile.

“You like it though, that’s why you keep coming back.” You whisper. Eddie’s mouth pulls in a flat line and you think you might have said something wrong. His grip on your shoulders falls and you’re sure you did.

You’re sure you did until you feel his hands meet your waist, pulling you towards him. Your hands slip up his chest and around his neck and you hug yourself to him tightly. You absorb every ounce of him you can, every inebriated sense of yours captivated and buzzing with feelings and flutters. Even through the thump of the bass vibrating throughout the kitchen, you swear you hear his heart, or maybe it’s yours, either way it doesn’t matter because Eddie Munson is holding you just like you wanted him to. 

“I was waiting for you to come find me.” You whisper into the skin peeking out of the collar of his shirt as you press your head to his shoulder.  

In the bustling of the party, you stand chest to chest, arms wrapped around each other like this was the only way things were meant to be. He responds to you through the movement of his hands, rubbing up and down your back, touching you, just like you asked. Soothing you like you didn’t know he could. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Eddie, you’re not doing it right, you’re supposed to just come in. I’m not supposed to have to ask you.” You whine. 

“Princess, I can’t.” He says, smiling as you try to tug him through the front door of your house. 

“You can, you did it before, remember?” You say, giving him your best pout.

“You were sick.” He says, amusement twinkling in his eyes as he stands firmly outside, your tugs not making him budge in the slightest. 

“I'm going to be sick right now, if you don’t come inside.” You whine, punctuating your words with little stomps of your feet.

You may have taken a few more shots after Eddie broke up your hug earlier. You knew you had him at that point so maybe you took them just to spite him. It made sense at the time and as the night progressed, you were right. He was by your side the whole time, never more than an arm's length away. And when it was time to go home, you didn’t even have to ask, he was already offering you a ride and guiding you to his van.

“Princess, you’re killing me.” He says exasperatedly through a smile before stepping into the doorway. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Jesus, just drink the water, princess.” Eddie laughs. 

“I’ll do it if you lay down with me.” You say stubbornly. He shakes his head and you drop yourself down onto your pillow. “Please, Eddie. Please.” You plead, your eyes catching the dizzy image of him in the lowlight of your room.

“Drink the water and I’ll think about it.” He says sternly.

“Lay down and I’ll think about it.” You mock, copying his tone.

“You are so…” He laughs, trailing off.

“Good at giving blowjobs?” You giggle, filling in his sentiment. His gaze drops to the floor as he sits on the edge of your bed, shaking his head in disbelief of the moment. 

“I was gonna say ‘impossible’.” He corrects with a laugh. 

You furrow your brows. In attempts to prove him wrong you sit up, taking the water from him and silently finish it small swallow by small swallow until your belly feels impossibly full of water. 

“Done.” You huff, falling back to your pillow dramatically. 

“Good.” He says, hand patting your calf that’s sprawled against the comforter next to him. 

“No. Good girl.” You say, correcting him through giggles. He squeezes your calf, before sitting up enough to put the glass down on your bedside table. 

“Good girl.” He says to appease you, smirk heavy in his features. 

“Was I good enough for you to lay down?” You ask, flashing him innocent eyes. He exhales deeply and even in your spinning state, you know he’s weighing his options. His eyes track the span of the bed before looking back at you, seriousness written across his features.

“No funny business.” He says firmly, making sure to make eye contact so you know he’s serious.

“No funny business.” You agree, nodding your head waiting for him to give in. 

“Only for a few minutes. Sober you wouldn’t want me here.” He says, removing his jacket and tossing it to the floor.

“Yes she would.” You mumble with a pout but quickly get excited when Eddie starts shuffling to lay down. You prop yourself up ready to cozy into him but he stops you.

“Nuh-uh. On your side of the bed, princess.” He says, motioning for you to lay back down. You throw yourself to the mattress with a whined cry. 

“You’re no fun.” You huff, whine building in your chest.

“I’m not here to have fun, princess. This is serious business.” He laughs. 

You continue pouting on your side of the bed, turning enough to watch as Eddie settles into your mattress. His hair sprawls over your pillow, just like before, his throat bobbing as he swallows before turning his head to you.

“Go to sleep.” He says and your jaw drops. His lips curl into a smile, eyes dancing in amusement. 

“You’re mean, you couldn’t even say goodnight? Just go to sleep?” You shrill, trying to focus your gaze on Eddie to get your glare across. 

“Go to sleep.” He repeats, smirking as he reaches his arm to your bedside table, switching the light off, leaving you both in the low glow of the moonlight that sweeps in through your half open curtains. 

“Eddie, I can’t unless you say it nicely.” You argue.

“Princess. Please go to sleep.” He says with teasing lilt.

“No.” You giggle.

“I said it nicely, c’mon princess.” He groans.

“Eddie.” You whine, hearing the annoyance in his voice.

“Princess.” He mocks.

You scan your eyes over him, the low light helping you find where his hand lays at his side. Quietly, you tiptoe your fingers across the mattress until you brush against his hand. Before you can close your grasp, he rips it away with a tut. 

“Eddie, I held your hand when you wanted me to.” You whine.

“That was different.” He replies.

“No it wasn’t! Just hold my hand.” You say, pushing yourself up to try and grab his hand where it lies on his stomach now.

“Lay back down.” He laughs pulling himself further away from you. You drop yourself to the bed, your bottom lip quivering. It’s not for dramatics though, you know Eddie wouldn’t be able to see it.

“No. I’m tired of doing this, I just want you to hold my hand.” You whisper back. Eddie says some kind of teasing response but you ignore it, feeling too lost in the spinning of your head. 

In your current state, you feel a lot of things. Most importantly, you’re confused. These nights usually end with Nancy and Steve. Eddie's existence would have never even crossed your mind, but now, all you want is to be close to him. It doesn’t help that he’s been making you practically beg for his attention all night. It might seem sudden, but it doesn’t come as a surprise to you when you feel your eyes grow wet. Your breathing starts to come out in harsh whines from your stomach that get caught in your throat.

When the first tear falls it feels catastrophic. It feels destructive, disastrous even. It feels like a break in your guard and you aren’t quick enough to catch it. There’s no snark left in the world that could patch this up right now. So you hide.

Pushing your face into your pillow, your tears free fall.

You feel shifting on the bed and you push your face further into the pillow.

“Are you crying?” Eddie asks softly, sounding closer to you now.

You don’t offer a response, your throat feels too tight to speak. You feel like you’re drowning in more than just tears.

“Princess, don’t cry.” He replies gently, all teasing gone from his voice. “I’ll hold your hand, here.” He finds your hand, taking it in his but it’s too late. The floodgates are open, set on their path of destruction, open to exposing damage.

His hand wraps around yours and you feel small. Not because of the size difference but because there’s a reason you don’t show these feelings. There’s a reason it’s easier for you to scowl and yell. This side feels too bare, too soft, too uncomfortable. It’s unfamiliar and scary. It feels like offering yourself up to impending disappointment. It feels like waiting for someone to pick you up and they don’t. 

He pulls your hair, you pull his back. He stands you up, what can you do besides pretend it didn’t hurt?

You should yell, you should scold, you should threaten violence. You should tear your hand away, kick him out.

But you don’t. You couldn’t, not anymore. Not right now.

You just want Eddie, all games aside. You want him in the silence of the night, not through the bass of the music where one of you has to move left while the other moves right. You don’t want to dance the line of whatever this is anymore. 

You pull his hand, willing him to come closer, a silent plea through your tears, and he does. He shifts closer until you're pressed to him, your intertwined hands hugged between your chests as his other hand wraps around you, resting against your back. He soothes you with quiet promises of everything being okay intermixed with his own apologies that only make you cry harder. 

Maybe you’re not the whole reason that you two have ended up here, but you’re half of it, and it takes two to play this game. If you tap out, you’re half of the way to it being over.

If you walk away and he follows, isn’t that just the game changing again? A game of cat and mouse?

Maybe all these metaphors are stupid. Maybe they’re all a figment of your imagination that blossomed as a child from the first time he pulled your hair. Maybe you’re too old for these playground antics. Maybe you’re too old to not say how you feel. 

“I was sad when you didn’t come to pick me up.” You whisper, your sob-filled secret sailing into the darkness of the room as if his chest wasn’t there to catch your secret. 

Your words are as much for you as they are for him, you couldn’t admit your hurt before, but now you do. 

Truth tastes soft in your mouth, not at all like the burn of alcohol you’ve drowned yourself in. It’s not sweet, it doesn’t fix everything, it just creates a storm in your belly. A fight between everything you know, everything you’ve done, and something new. It’s unnatural, it makes you feel sick. 

“I know, princess. I’m sorry.” He whispers in return, his hand rubbing against your back. You imagine with every pass of his hand on your back he’s helping you fight the furries of the storm rising inside of you, but with the storm rising, there is nowhere else for these feelings to go but up. 

“I don’t want you to say sorry, I just don’t want you to do it again.” You cry.

Your throat constricts as you feel bile rising. 

“I won’t. I promise, okay?” He says softly. His words would have eased every metaphorical storm inside you, but this storm has turned literal, you’re about to vomit.

“Eddie, I'm gonna be sick.”

It’s a rush of limbs and a dash down the hall. Everything pours from you, every uncried tear, every burn, every furry, every roar of the storm. Everything you know, everything you’ve done, it all leaves you. And in its wake all you have left is Eddie’s hand rubbing your back, telling you it’s okay. It’s soft and unnatural but you let it absorb you entirely. It burrows into you, finding a place you never knew existed, a place where softness thrives and doesn’t need to be hidden by the guise of anger and indifference.

Eddie brings you back to your bed and in the silence of the night, apologies and promises lay side by side, holding hands. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 13: "Breaking the News"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 7.6k

a/n: This installment is quite painful and there is still no comfort to be had in this series quite yet, friends. But hey, it's the long anticipated moment where Matt learns the truth, right? And you get a Matt POV at the end. Plus this one is LONG. I hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine @harperdoodle @hollandorks (some of you I cannot tag so please check your settings!)

Shifting back and forth on your feet outside of Foggy’s apartment, you anxiously waited for him to answer the door. Both of your now sweat-slicked hands were firmly gripping the six pack of beer you’d picked up on your way over, hoping it would help ease the sting of what you were here to tell him. You were beyond terrified of his reaction and just hoping he would take the news as well as you figured he could.

You could hear Foggy’s muffled voice as he made his way through the apartment, the door swinging open a few moments later. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably in knots as Foggy’s beaming face came into view. You felt terrible that he had no idea why you’d asked to stop by tonight, and judging by the look on his face, he clearly thought it was just a friendly social visit.

“Hey!” he greeted brightly, saying your name. “Come on in!” 

“Hey, Fog,” you greeted him back nervously.

Stepping inside, you awkwardly slipped out of your shoes as Foggy closed the door behind you. The rapidly beating thrum of your heart felt loud to your own ears as you sent him a tight smile. Foggy’s attention dropped down to the beer in your hands, his eyes further lighting up.

“Oh man, I am so glad you actually brought some beer because you know what?” he began, making his way towards the worn gray couch in his living room. “This whole week has been rough. Like an absolute shit show at the office. I could’ve started drinking hours ago.”

Hesitantly you followed after Foggy, making your way over towards his couch and watching as he sank down onto a cushion. Feeling even worse after hearing that his week had been difficult already, you awkwardly set the beer on his coffee table before sliding out two bottles and handing one to him. He thanked you before twisting off the cap, tossing it next to the six pack on the coffee table. Feeling slightly sick to your stomach, you opened your beer before settling onto the couch. Immediately you took a long pull from the bottle, swallowing the alcohol down and hoping it would quickly help dull your nerves. Except when you lowered the bottle to your lap, spotting Foggy across from you on the couch rubbing at his temples, your nerves only increased.

“So uh, bad week?” you asked lamely.

Foggy nodded enthusiastically. “That’s an understatement,” he replied. “We almost lost the trial yesterday. The whole thing was a massive headache. Matt has been a little too distracted this week with who the hell knows what, but he was off. Like way off this week. He was nothing like his usual self.”

“Oh,” you whispered, not wanting to think about Matt right now.

“But anyway, it’s Friday tomorrow and things should hopefully be looking up,” Foggy concluded, the smile returning to his face. “I’m going to try to remain optimistic that tomorrow will be better. But what about you? How’s work been going for you? And how’re things with your man? I haven’t seen him in a bit.”

Gripping the bottle of beer a little tighter in your hands, you took a deep breath and tried to prepare yourself for the news you were about to break.

“Well, Adam and I…broke up,” you admitted slowly.

Foggy’s eyes grew wide immediately, one hand lowering the beer from his mouth before he could even take a drink. He was leaning towards you on the couch, his mouth open in shock. You watched as he struggled to take a moment to process the information.

“You–you guys broke up? When?” Foggy asked.

Biting your lip, you looked away. Your cheeks were burning from the guilt at having kept Foggy in the dark for so long, but you hadn’t been ready to tell Foggy the full truth about why you’d broken up and that you were possibly moving. And there hadn’t really been a way to explain things away to him without lying in front of Matt–which you knew Matt would’ve called you out on. 

“It’s been a few months now,” you told him. 

“What?” he asked in shock. 

Foggy was quickly sliding over to you on the couch, reaching over to set his beer on the coffee table before his focus fully turned on you. You could already feel the tears forming when you saw that damn sympathetic look on his face again.

“Dude, hey, what’s going on? Why didn’t you tell me you and Adam broke up?” he questioned. “You tell me everything . What happened?”

“He wanted more from me than I could give him,” you confessed, lips trembling. ���Because I–I'm still…”

Foggy’s face instantly fell, knowing exactly what you meant without you even needing to finish your sentence. He nodded slowly.

“Matt?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Matt.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Foggy said, one of his hands landing comfortingly on your shoulder. “I really thought maybe Adam had been the one to get you past your feelings for him. You both seemed so happy together.”

“We were, to an extent,” you told him. “Until Erica came into the picture and reminded me that I can’t just push my feelings for Matt under a rug.”

“So that’s why you broke up then?” Foggy asked. “Because you still have feelings for Matt?”

“Well,” you began slowly, your mouth suddenly going dry, “there was…something else.”

Foggy straightened on the couch instantly, his eyes narrowing curiously back at you. You felt his hand tighten on your shoulder just a bit.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “Did he–was he…?”

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “No, he wasn’t cheating. But I–I was offered a new position at work a few days before we broke up.”

You swore Foggy’s entire body had frozen on the couch. It didn’t even look like he was breathing anymore. 

“It uh, it has a huge pay increase–almost double my current salary,” you continued, your stomach nervously churning as you did. “But it’s–it’s out in L.A. And Adam didn’t want to leave his job and his family here. Which is why he mentioned things like moving in together and–and possibly marriage down the road. He wanted me to stay for him. But I couldn’t see those things with him. And I tried really hard to, but I just–just couldn’t. So we broke up. And then afterwards I’d been…considering the job offer.”

Foggy’s lips thinned out, tears shining noticeably in his own eyes as he sat so still beside you. You could feel your own tears ready to fall at the way he was looking at you.

“You're taking it, aren't you?” he whispered. “You’re taking the job?”

Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you nodded. “Yeah, Fog,” you answered. “I accepted it. They offered it months ago and I’d been waiting until it was a sure thing before I told you.”

Foggy sniffled loudly, his hand releasing your shoulder to wipe the heel of it across his watery eyes. “So you’ve known for a while?” he asked.

“Like I said, it wasn’t a sure thing,” you told him. “My company was still trying to get their new office set up out there for the past couple of months. But I officially accepted the offer at the beginning of this week. I uh, I’m flying out this weekend to find an apartment, but I’ll be back on Monday for work.”

“Fuck,” Foggy swore, turning and slumping defeatedly back into the the couch. “I can’t fucking believe this.”

Licking your lips nervously, your attention dropped down to the beer in your lap. Your fingers were drumming along the brown bottle as you heard Foggy curse again. Slowly you tried to inhale a deep breath, struggling to keep your resolve. You knew this was going to be difficult, but you also knew you needed to do this.

“Why are you leaving?” Foggy asked, breaking the silence that had fallen.

“I told you,” you began, “I was offered a position that–”

“No,” he said, cutting you off firmly and sitting upright again, the movement and tone catching your eye. “No, that’s not why you’re leaving. It’s because of this thing with Matt, isn’t it? You’re leaving because of him.”

Stunned, your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to form a sentence. Were you that transparent?

“Fog, I–”

“You’re running away, aren’t you?” he pressed. “Admit it. You’re running away from him.”

“Foggy, I can’t do this anymore,” you confessed, a few tears finally spilling over. “Yes, okay? Yes, I’m running away from Matt. Because I love him and he knows it, but what he feels for me isn’t the same. It’ll never be the same.” 

You brushed a hand absently over your cheeks to wipe away the tears that had slipped out. Fuck, you were so sick of crying.

“I love him, Fog,” you said, voice breaking on his name. “And it hurts so fucking bad. Do you have any idea what that’s like? To be in love with your best friend for years ?”

Tears were openly streaming down Foggy’s face now as he listened to you. He kept dabbing at his eyes with the back of his hand, but more tears kept coming in their stead. The sight of him crying was only further causing more of your own tears to fall.

“I see him all of the time, Foggy,” you continued, emotion thick in your voice. “It hurts to even hug him knowing it means something else to me than it does to him. And it’s like I swear I feel something everytime we do. It’s like this–this warm, happy, safe feeling washes over me. Like I could just–just stay there forever. But then I have to remind myself he’s just my friend and it hurts .” Sniffling loudly, you tried to keep your voice even as the words continued to pour out of you. “Now he’s with Erica. And you’ve seen him with her, Fog. He’s got that lovesick puppy look around her all of the time. He’s been crazy about her for months. It’s like Elektra all over again, except Erica isn’t necessarily bad for him. Their relationship, despite how busy Erica always is, is one that I could see becoming something more, you know?”

“Marriage?” Foggy asked.

Grimacing, you nodded. “Yeah,” you whispered. “And if it’s not her, it’s going to be someone else. Someone who isn’t me. And Fog, I–I can’t–can’t–”

The words got stuck in your throat, and no matter how hard you tried, it was a choked sob that fell out of you instead. Foggy was quick to wrap his arms around you and pull you into a hug. Burying your face into his shoulder, you openly wept at the thought of having to witness Matt get married to someone else. It had been painful for years to see him sleep around with countless women at Columbia, even worse when he’d been so stuck on Elektra with how awful she was for him. And then it stung watching him date and sleep around even more after that. But seeing him in a relationship now that might be eventually going towards something serious down the road? That had been the line you had to draw.

“I can’t be here to see that,” you choked out, shaking your head against Foggy’s shoulder as the tears continued to fall from your eyes. “It would–would kill me, Fog. I can’t–can’t see him marry someone else. I can’t do it. I can’t .”

“But why do you have to go?” Foggy whispered. “Why do you have to leave me, too?”

“Because Matt will always be here,” you answered softly. “And as long as he’s within reach, I’ll always be reaching for him.”

Pulling away from Foggy, you wiped roughly at your eyes. His arms released you slowly, coming to wipe at his own eyes that were still watering.

“I’m sorry, Fog,” you whispered. “But you can still come visit. So can Karen. And–and maybe someday I’ll come back and visit you here. It’s not like we’ll never see each other again.”

“Have you told Matt?” Foggy asked.

The question felt like a punch to the gut. You winced at the mention of Matt, that ache in your chest painfully growing. You wondered if anything would ever get rid of it. 

“No,” you answered, shaking your head. “I haven’t.”

“How long until you leave?” Foggy asked.

Your focus dropped down to the beer in your lap. Fingers fidgeting nervously with the label, you refused to look at Foggy when you spoke next.

“About three more weeks,” you said.

“Shit,” he breathed out. “So when–when are you going to tell him?”

Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, you shook your head. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “I don’t even know how to look him in the face and tell him this. I don’t know how I’m going to–” you paused, eyes snapping shut, “–to say goodbye to him.” 

“He deserves to know,” Foggy pointed out. “He deserves a chance to say goodbye to you.”

“I know,” you breathed out. “I know.”

Turning the corner, your eyes landed on the red neon sign for Josie’s bar. Your arms wrapped anxiously around yourself, hugging your body tight as you made your way down the sidewalk towards it, maneuvering through the evening foot traffic on the sidewalk. 

Tonight was the night. You'd asked Fog and Matt to come out with you to Josie’s. It would be just the three of you this evening, no significant others. Just like old times. 

And you were going to tell Matt you were moving in three days. 

You'd admittedly cried a lot back at your apartment while you'd gotten ready to come out. Just thinking about what you were going to say to Matt and knowing how soon you would be saying goodbye had gotten you instantly emotional. And you knew Matt was going to be upset with you tonight. You were telling him just days before you left. It hadn’t been intentional, you’d certainly tried to tell him over the weeks before, but you had kept putting it off because you'd been too much of a coward, too afraid to tell him so many other times before. But now that your flight out of New York City was literally days away, you knew you didn’t have a choice. You couldn’t keep putting it off.

Opening the door to Josie’s and stepping inside, you were instantly hit with that musty, moldy smell that always seemed to mix with the scent of alcohol and sweat here. It wasn’t much cooler inside than it was outside tonight you noticed, your eyes scanning the bar for a sign of Matt and Foggy. You spotted them by a table at the far back of the bar, your eyes connecting to Foggy’s almost instantly. He sent you a sad smile, waving you over. You tried your best not to look miserable in return as you approached the table.

“You finally made it,” Matt said, shooting you a wide grin. “Was wondering what was taking you so long.”

The smile you tried to return him probably looked pained, but you knew despite his senses he couldn’t quite tell that. For a moment you stood there standing beside the table, your eyes scanning Matt over where he sat. That handsome, charming smile was still spread wide across his face. You noticed his beard was a bit darker and thicker than usual beneath his red glasses tonight, and he was dressed in his usual white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his muscular forearms on display as he rested his arms on the table. 

The sight of him alone felt like a stab to the heart. Blinking hard, you forced yourself to look away as you situated yourself in the chair across the table from him. Turning, you focused your attention on Foggy to the left of you instead. You needed a moment to try to collect yourself.

“Yeah,” you said, finally responding to Matt. “I was running a little late, sorry. I hope you guys weren’t waiting too long.”

“Just a few minutes,” Matt replied. “Not a big deal. I grabbed you a beer, hope that’s alright.”

He slid a bottle across the table towards you, your eyes following the movement of it. For some reason the little act of thoughtfulness had your heart squirming in your chest. It was just a beer, after all. It didn’t mean anything. It’s not like you all hadn’t bought drinks for each other many times in the past.

“Thanks,” you muttered.

A silence fell across the three of you when Matt drew his own beer to his lips for a drink. Your eyes landed on Foggy, noticing him shooting you a pointed look. He’d been on your ass about telling Matt you were leaving for weeks now, and it was apparent on his face that he was mentally screaming at you to rip the bandaid off and just tell him already. 

“So uh, how’s work been?” you asked.

Foggy’s eyes narrowed at you and you quickly glanced down at the table, ignoring the sharp look on his face. You didn’t want to just sit down and drop the news in Matt’s lap the moment you showed up. You, at the very least, needed a minute to prepare yourself.

“Busy,” Foggy replied simply. “How’s work been for you?”

Nervously your tongue darted out, wetting your lips. You knew what he was doing. It felt like your throat was closing up at just the thought of saying ‘I’m moving in three days’ to Matt.

“Good,” you answered.

Foggy’s eyes only narrowed further at you. Unable to stand the weight of his glare, you glanced across the table to Matt. But that had proven to be a terrible idea because he was focused straight on you, his head tilted a bit to the side. His dark brows had furrowed together, slightly drawing down below the red lenses he wore.

You knew that look. Ever since you’d learned that Matt was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and you’d been informed about his heightened senses, you’d come to recognize when Matt was picking up on something. Zeroed in on it. And right now he was very focused on you. That alone had your pulse increasing, wondering how much he was picking up on– what he was picking up on.

“You doing alright?” Matt asked you.

Clearing your throat, your attention dropped back to the table. Saying yes was an obvious lie. Saying no would leave you telling Matt the truth right here and now and you weren’t sure the words were going to come out yet. You weren’t sure you were ready for the way he’d surely be upset with you at the news. 

“I’m just stressed,” you said–not technically a lie.

There was a brief pause. You could feel both men staring at you and you felt yourself shrinking further in on yourself in response.

“Stressed about what?” Matt pressed.

“Work,” you answered simply.

“What about work?” Foggy pushed.

One of your hands grabbed onto your beer bottle, squeezing it tight in your fist. You felt like you were going to explode, your heart pounding hard in your chest.

“Why don’t we talk about work a little later?” you suggested, teeth gritting together.

Your focus flew up to Foggy, the pair of you locking eyes. There was a very disappointed expression currently resting on his face. For some reason when you saw his mouth open, your own did, too. But instead of blurting the truth to Matt, you found yourself blurting something almost as bad before Foggy could speak.

“How’re Marci and Erica?”

You cringed the moment the question left you, realizing you’d asked Matt to indulge you with details about his relationship. That was not what you wanted. Even Foggy’s expression softened at your question, aware of your mistake.

“Marci’s been busy with work, but doing good,” Foggy answered.

“Great,” you replied stiffly.

Grinding your teeth together, you turned your attention to Matt. There was no backing out of enduring this tidbit about Erica because you’d asked for it. You were just going to have to force the strained smile to stay on your lips as you waited for Matt to stab you in the heart yet again.

“Uh, she’s doing well,” Matt answered slowly, his focus seeming to shift between you and Foggy for a moment.

“Fantastic,” you stated, the strained smile still on your mouth.

You drew your beer up to your lips for another drink, feeling like you desperately needed it. When Matt suddenly spoke again, you hadn’t been expecting it. 

“Actually,” he said, his tone a little off, “there was something I was hoping to talk to you both about. Since it’s been quite some time since we’ve been together like this. Just the three of us. I figured I’d tell you both something that’s been on my mind recently.”

Swallowing down your beer, you slowly lowered the bottle to the table. Your attention shifted to Foggy, one of your brows raising curiously. He made a face, lightly shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head in return. He looked just as confused as you were.

“It’s about Erica,” Matt began.

You sucked in a breath, holding it as your eyes flew back to Matt and you waited in anticipation. Had they broken up? Had Matt finally told her the truth about himself and she couldn’t handle it? Was she…cheating on him?

“Look, I know it’s not been quite seven months yet, but I’ve been thinking about just taking the plunge,” Matt continued on, his words tumbling out rapidly. “She’s really great. And she’s an intelligent, driven, successful woman. And we get along so well. I–I’ve found myself thinking about marriage lately.”

It took your brain a few seconds to process what Matt had just said, but when you did, your jaw literally dropped. He hadn’t been with Erica for quite seven months yet, but he was already thinking about marrying her? 

Your breath literally caught in your throat as you sat there in absolute shock. You couldn’t breathe. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Foggy’s head instantly whip in your direction. His eyes were wide, his mouth also hanging open in complete surprise.

“Guys?” Matt said nervously. “Care to say something?”

He wanted to marry Erica.

He wanted to marry her .

He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her .

Your right hand flew up to your chest, clutching the fabric of your shirt roughly in your fingers. There was a sharp pain shooting straight through your heart in a way you’d never felt before. Were you about to have a panic attack? A heart attack maybe? Was that what this was? 

You might actually throw up. 

“That’s uh…” Foggy said, voice trailing off as he tried to search for words.

“A good thing?” Matt suggested.

You could hear your pulse hammering in your own ears as you tried to inhale a shaky breath. Fuck, why was it so hard to breathe? Across the table, Matt focused back on you, saying your name with a note of concern.

“Are you doing okay?” he asked slowly. “You don’t sound…alright.”

He just fucking told you he wanted to marry Erica when he knew you were in love with him. Of course you weren’t fucking alright . You were the farthest goddamn thing from alright .

“Does she know?” you breathed out.

“Well…no,” Matt answered slowly. “I haven’t bought up the topic quite yet but I–”

“Does she know who you really are?” you pressed, cutting him off as your hand clutched your chest tighter. “ Does she know ?”

You swore you saw his eyes narrow behind his glasses in the dim light of Josie’s. His lips pressed firmly together in what appeared to be a hint of irritation.

“No,” he answered, his tone darkening a bit. “She doesn’t know that yet, but I don’t think it will be a problem at the moment. She’s mentioned always wanting a long engagement, so I’d have plenty of time to figure it out with her. I don’t think it would be an issue, and until then, she’d want to probably stay at her place near her work. Which means I could keep doing what I’ve been doing. We’d just have to figure that all out later. We’d make it work.”

A bitter laugh fell out of you before you could stop it. Didn’t he hear how stupid that sounded? What the hell sort of hold did she have on him? Why was he so stuck on her? He deserved so much better than being with someone who didn’t know him. He deserved someone who saw all of him and wanted him still. Who loved him for the man he was, crazy and frustrating as he could be sometimes. 

Someone like you.

But of course you were never good enough. He'd rather propose to a woman that didn't know he could smell what she'd eaten for lunch when she saw him after work. That had no idea he was risking his life most nights to save the people in the part of the city he loved so dearly.

“She will never move to Hell’s Kitchen with how much she dislikes it, and you’ll never leave it,” you stated sharply, anger quickly growing within you at how ridiculous this whole situation was beginning to sound. “How does that work, Matthew?”

Matt’s brows entirely pulled together behind his lenses, his jaw clenching as he stared back at you. “Well I don’t see how that’s any of your concern,” he shot back, a sharper edge to his tone. “You’re not part of this relationship.”

You gaped at him, momentarily stunned and hurt. A second later your eyes darted over to Foggy, seeing him sitting there in absolute mortification at whatever was happening between you and Matt. He looked like a deer in the headlights.  

“Well, Matthew ,” you said bitterly, focusing back on him across the table and not even bothering to hide your anger at this point. What did it matter anymore? You were leaving in three days anyway. “I think it’s a bit absurd that you want to propose to a woman who doesn’t even know you, when you have absolutely no fucking idea where you both would even live together, after not quite seven months of dating. Doesn’t sound like you thought more than three seconds about this whole thing.”

“Excuse me?” he snapped, his dark brows shooting up onto his forehead. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I think it sounds like you’re clinging to her like you clung to Elektra,” you snapped. “For whatever fucking reason you did.” 

Matt sat back in his chair, a look of surprise mingled with hurt written on his face. Part of you felt bad for that low blow, but you didn’t have long to feel that way before Matt was leaning forward again, his face set in a firm expression.

“Just because things didn’t work out how you wanted for yourself, doesn’t mean the rest of us have to sit here stuck in one place,” Matt shot back.

His words felt like a slap to the face. You sat there for a moment, the tears burning in your eyes at the audacity of him saying that to you. Of him knowing how you felt about him, telling you he wanted to marry another woman, and then throwing your feelings back at you like that.

Swallowing hard, you abruptly pushed your chair back and rose to your feet. Matt was still sitting and seething on the other side of the table, focused on your movements. Foggy’s face looked like it was permanently stuck in a mixture of shock and horror as he sat in utter silence.

“Fuck you, Matt,” you growled. “I never thought you were that much of an asshole to throw my feelings for you like that back in my fucking face.”

Matt straightened instantly in his chair, his expression shifting rapidly. “What?” he asked.

“I said fuck you ,” you spat, tears starting to make their way down your cheeks. “For knowing I’ve had feelings for you all these fucking years,” you barreled on, watching as his mouth immediately dropped open and his eyebrows shot up high onto his forehead, “and letting me think you were fucking dead for months and now making me listen to your bullshit desire to marry Erica. You’re not worth the goodbye. So fuck you, Matthew Murdock.”

You didn’t bother to wait for him to recover from the shock of your outburst, his body pin straight in his chair as he gaped at you in stunned silence. Turning on your heel, you stormed off out of Josie’s, fuming internally as you pushed the door open and made your way out into the night.

Matt sat in his chair, his mind racing as he listened to you making your exit from Josie’s. He could taste the salt of your tears and the venom of your anger in the air right before you'd left, but it was what he'd thought he'd heard you say that had him sitting dumbfounded in his seat. 

Had you said what he'd thought you'd said? Had that really happened?

"Shit, Matt," Foggy groaned out. "What the hell was that?"

Matt's head spun towards Foggy, shock still coursing through him. He could feel his hands shaking as they reached up, pulling his glasses from his face and lowering them to the table. 

"What did she just say?" he asked Foggy in disbelief. 

Matt could hear the way Foggy’s mouth dropped open yet again and the way his eyes had widened on his friend's face. Though Matt was more focused on the feel of his own racing heart in his chest as he tried to understand what had just happened.

"I think she said it pretty loud and clear, buddy," Foggy told him. "She's pissed at you. And I don't blame her one bit."

"No," Matt breathed out, shaking his head at Foggy. "Not that. The other part. The part about having feelings for me."

"I mean…yeah," Foggy replied matter-of-factly. "She's had them for you forever, dude. You knew that already though."

" What ?" Matt whispered in shock.

You…you'd had feelings for him? For Matt? For years ? And you both for some reason thought he knew that?

"Yeah, Matt," Foggy continued. "She's been crazy about you practically since she met you. She said you guys talked about this when she found out about your big secret. That was a while ago now. She said you'd told her you always had known she liked you because of your senses."

"I–what?" Matt stammered.

"Dude," Foggy said in exasperation. "Why are you acting like this is such big news?"

"Because it is , Fog!" Matt exclaimed. "She told me she was in love with you !"

Foggy froze, his mouth once again hanging wide open. Matt could feel the confusion practically rolling off of him in the chair beside him. Then he noticed Foggy quickly and firmly shaking his head. 

"What the fuck are you talking about, Matt?" he asked. "When the hell did she tell you that ?"

"That night!" Matt shouted. “She told me that night!”

“No,” Foggy said, still shaking his head. “No, there’s no way, dude. Did she expressly say ‘Hey, Matt I’m in love with Foggy?’”

Matt opened his mouth, about to tell him yes, but then he stopped short. Because no, you hadn’t in fact said Foggy’s name exactly. You had never actually told him you had feelings for Foggy. He’d always just thought that’s who you’d meant and it had made sense. Even Elektra had been pushing that idea onto him, telling him that you were always pining after him. How obvious it was with the way you looked at Foggy. He’d always thought that was the truth.

Had he been wrong this whole time?

“No,” Matt breathed out. “She–she never said your name. She never said any name.”

It felt like his entire world was falling apart around him. You’d never actually told him you liked Foggy. Never explicitly said his name. He’d just let Elektra’s words and his senses paint a story for him that he’d believed for so long. Which meant that night, over a year ago now when Elektra had dropped him off at your apartment, you’d been thinking he knew that you'd always had feelings for him because of his senses, when Matt had thought you had confirmed you'd always had feelings for Foggy this whole time. And that also meant that night when you hadn’t known who the masked man was and he’d found you drunk in that alley after your asshole ex had cheated on you–it had been him you’d really been crying over. You had both held each other tight that night crying over your feelings for each other in the rain.

All of this time he had been the friend who you’d had feelings for? How could he have been so fucking unaware? 

“Holy shit, you really didn’t know, did you?” Foggy asked in surprise. 

“No,” Matt repeated vehemently, his focus returning to Foggy. “No, Fog. I swore I thought she was always in love with you! Ever since she met you the pair of you just clicked! You were always spending so much time together. Both so alike. And her body was always reacting like crazy around you–but it…” he trailed off, blinking hard a few times. “It was me?”

Foggy reached out, placing a hand on Matt’s shoulder. He felt his friend give it a reassuring squeeze as he tried to process the influx of information suddenly rushing back to him. Every time he’d thought he was reading you reacting to Foggy, it had been him. How could he have read you so wrong for years?

“Fuck, I almost told her on graduation night,” Matt recalled, tears filling his eyes. “You’d fallen asleep and she was–was right there . I had been about to tell her I had feelings for her–about to kiss her–but then she suddenly panicked and I felt her fear. I thought it was because she knew I was going to and she had gotten scared. Because she wanted you .”

“Dude, no,” Foggy said, squeezing Matt’s shoulder again. “She probably was hoping you’d kiss her but afraid she was misreading the situation. That’s probably the fear you picked up on. She thinks you’ve only ever seen her as a friend, Matt.”

Matt ran a hand through his hair, his mind reeling. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

“All this time I’ve just been–been misreading everything ?” Matt asked in shock.

“Clearly. But how the hell does that even happen with you? With what you can do?” Foggy questioned him. “And also–what the fuck, Matt? You’ve had feelings for our best friend all this time and you never fucking told me ?”

Matt’s attention returned to Foggy beside him, his sightless eyes intensely focused on him. “Do you remember that fall semester?” Matt asked earnestly. “That girl I told you I’d ran into?”

“Matt,” Foggy said with a sigh. “You ran into many girls.”

Matt shook his head quickly. “No, not like this. Not her. The one we called the White Whale?” he pushed.

Matt could hear the way Foggy’s brows drew together on his forehead. His hand fell away from Matt’s shoulder and instead came to run across his mouth as he took a moment to think back.

“Yeah,” Foggy eventually answered. “The girl you spent weeks looking around campus for. The one you were dying to meet. We came up with a bunch of ridiculous ways you might meet up with her over winter break.”

“Yes, her,” Matt replied in a rush. He whispered your name, feeling his heart twisting at the sound of it. “That was her . She was the White Whale, Fog.”

Foggy sat speechless for a moment, his hand still raised to his mouth as if he’d been taken off guard by Matt’s admission. Matt could hear Foggy’s heart rate elevating even further in his chest as he processed that information.

“You–you told me you met the White Whale and things hadn’t worked out, Matt,” Foggy pointed out. “You told me that.”

“Because I thought she’d fallen for you!” Matt shot back, gesturing a hand roughly at Foggy. “So I never told you it was her because I figured it didn't matter anymore. And I was–was an asshole and selfishly never said anything about the feelings I thought she had for you because I–I didn’t want to see you two together.”

“Fucking hell, Matt,” Foggy groaned, running a hand down his face. “What a fucking mess. So all this time you two idiots have had feelings for each other and nothing happened because no one fucking said anything?”

“I had no idea,” Matt whispered. “I had no idea she felt that way about me.”

“Ugh!” Foggy exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in frustration.

Matt heard the way both of Foggy’s hands flew up to cover his face soon after, his hands rubbing agitatedly at his eyes. He could feel the irritation and frustration coming from his best friend, and he could feel something else exuding from him, too. But Matt didn’t take a moment to even wonder what it was as a thought suddenly struck him.

He shoved his chair back, swiftly rising to his feet. He was going to go after you. He had to. He had to tell you the truth. But Foggy’s hand abruptly grabbed onto his arm and it caused Matt to stop before he could even leave the table.

“What’re you doing?” Foggy asked him.

“Going after her,” Matt answered as if it was obvious. “I can’t leave her like that, Fog. I can’t let her continue thinking I knew all of this time that she had feelings for me and that I never felt the same. Because that’s not true. And I can't let her keep thinking that.”

“Matt, buddy, no,” Foggy replied quickly, tugging on his arm. “You just told her minutes ago that you were considering marrying someone else. And need I remind you–you’re still dating Erica. The woman you just told her you wanted to marry. You can't chase off after her in some grand romantic pursuit and tell her you have feelings for her. Not like this. She deserves better, Matt.”

A pained expression pulled at Matt’s face. He didn’t want to let you go back home feeling like this.Thinking what you were thinking. He didn’t want that. Especially knowing what he now knew. 

"What're you saying?" Matt asked.

"You want to tell her this?" Foggy questioned back. “That you have feelings for her?”

Matt nodded immediately. "Yes, Fog. Yes. I've wanted to tell her for years. I’ve come so close so many times," he confessed.

"Then do it when you're single, Matt," Foggy stated. "Don't you dare go chasing after her and telling her you have feelings when you're dating another woman. When you just finished talking about marrying another woman. Don't you do that to her, man. Because so help me, Matt, I don't care how well you throw a punch, I will hit you."

Matt's face slowly fell as he gradually slumped back down in his chair. Foggy was right. He had just dropped this idea of proposing to Erica on you–and God what an asshole he felt like now knowing how much that had to have hurt you to hear. No wonder you’d gotten so angry and your body’s stress levels had risen so quickly. And now he would sound like an ass chasing you down after that. But knowing how much pain he’d just caused you only increased that familiar heartache of his own that was currently twisting and constricting in his chest. He’d hurt you tonight. And probably countless nights over the years. How often had you been crying because of him ? He wanted to slam his fist through the table at the thought.

"Why the hell do you want to marry Erica anyway?" Foggy asked. “That seems so out of nowhere, man.”

"Because we–we get along," Matt answered lamely. "And she's always so busy so me being Daredevil has never caused an issue. It’s never been a problem. And I–I don't want to be alone,” he admitted, aware of how pathetic he sounded. “I figured Erica and I would figure things out later. That maybe she'd understand. I wasn’t really thinking things through, I admit that."

"Matt, Erica doesn't even know about your heightened senses," Foggy pointed out. "You can't get that serious with someone out of convenience and fear of being alone, buddy. It's wrong and it won't work out. That’s not fair to Erica, either."

"I know," Matt murmured, running a hand over his forehead. "You're right. You’re both right. I just–just thought I'd never have her and I was lonely. And when I was with Erica, she made me feel less lonely."

Foggy was shaking his head again. "That's not right, Matt. You can't do that to Erica."

"I know," he whispered, shamefully burying his face in his hands. "I'll talk to Erica tomorrow after work. I'll end the relationship. And then I'll talk to her." He whispered your name, his voice muffled by the hands over his face. He could feel the tears burning in his eyes. “I’ll tell her the truth. Everything.”

God did he want to tell you the truth so badly, too. He wondered how pissed at him you would be when you heard it. He wondered if there was anything he could do to make this whole situation salvageable. To fix all the things he’d fucked up, knowingly and unknowingly. He would do anything at all. Whatever it took.

"Well if you're going to tell her about your feelings you better hurry, Matt," Foggy said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re running out of time.”

Matt's brows drew together on his forehead. Something you'd said just before you left ran through his mind again. Something about him not being worth a goodbye. Matt felt his chest tightening further, a few tears slipping out of his eyes as he instantly drew his face from his hands and focused back on Foggy beside him.

"What's going on, Fog?" he asked anxiously. "You said she had something to tell me tonight. I'm guessing this wasn't it. So what is it?"

Foggy expelled a deep sigh, his grip on Matt’s shoulder growing a bit firmer. Matt felt his heart beating a bit erratically in his chest in the silence that followed, especially with the nervous sounds Foggy’s body was making right now. 

"She was offered a new position at work," he finally told Matt. "Really amazing pay–almost double her salary. But the job is in L.A. where her company is opening up a new office."

It felt like someone had ran Matt’s heart straight through with a knife. He had endured a lot of physical pain over the past few years running around the city at night, his body taking a lot of abuse. But the way those words struck Matt hurt more than any injury he'd ever sustained.  

"Is she–did she…?"

Foggy nodded solemnly. "Yeah," he answered. "She accepted it. She moves at the end of the week."

Matt's tongue felt heavy in his mouth, unable to swallow or form words as his lips began to tremble. You were leaving him. He just found out the truth–that you felt the same way after all this time–and you were leaving him. Moving to the other side of the country in a matter of days and he had no idea until just now. Days before you left.

"What–what about Adam?" Matt breathed out.

"They broke up months ago," Foggy replied. "She realized when you were with Erica that she just couldn't get over you. She hoped Adam might’ve been the one, but apparently he wasn’t.” Foggy sighed, his hand still comfortingly on his friend’s shoulder. “That's why she took the job, Matt. She's running from you. Running from her feelings for you."

Matt’s gaze dropped down to the table, more tears slowly sliding down his face. He’d done that to you, then. Hurt you so badly that you wanted to run from him. Put an entire country between the both of you. Now you didn’t even want to say goodbye to him. He winced at the pain of that thought.

"What if–if I told her?" he asked Foggy desperately, his focus returning to his friend. "What if I told her how I felt, Fog? Would she stay? Do you think she wouldn’t leave then?"

He heard the way the air shifted as Foggy shrugged in answer. The gesture didn't ease the constricting pain in Matt’s chest at all. Warm tears kept falling down Matt’s face as the weight of losing you slowly settled in his heart. 

"She can't–can't leave though," Matt croaked out, voice breaking as he shook his head. "She can't leave us–she can't leave me ."

Foggy rose slowly from his chair, crossing the space between the pair of them before wrapping Matt in a hug. Without hesitation Matt clung to his friend as a sob fell out of him, his face contorted in pain.

"She can't leave," Matt choked out. “She can’t , Fog.”

"I know, Matt," Foggy said, emotion thick in his voice. "I don't want her to go either."

"I lose everyone," Matt whispered. He clutched at Foggy’s dress shirt, entirely uncaring of who was watching the scene in Josie’s as he sobbed on his friend’s shoulder. "I can't lose her, too. I can't. I–I love her, Foggy. I love her."

"I’m sorry, Matt," Foggy replied, crying along with him. "But I don't know if there's anything either of us can do now."

[END NOTES]

More end notes this time because I often feel like this series needs it.

Matt now finally knows that Reader is not in love with Foggy! It only took YEARS for him to realize that--and it's only because Reader blurted it out in her anger at Matt having stupid thoughts about marrying someone who didn't even know all of him. Clearly he was clinging to Erica because he didn't think he could ever have Reader and he was trying to latch onto someone who made him feel good in the moment. Matt now also knows that Reader is leaving New York in just a matter of days, too. But, despite Matt now knowing the truth, Reader still has absolutely no idea that Matt has feelings for her. So what happens next? Does Matt chase after her and she stays? Does he miss her and she leaves? Something else? You'll have to wait for the next installment to find out...

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock #daredevil

[jesuisici33]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

tagged by @diazsdimples @tizniz @bidisasterevankinard @spotsandsocks so I haven't stopped thinking about buck's "yeah i'll check out a hot guy's ass but that's normal line" and we all know eddie's checked out buck's ass so...here's the start of something?

It’s always the alcohol isn’t it?

Loose lips, sink ships and all that.

That’s the only thing going through Eddie’s mind later when he gets home from Buck’s loft and his entire worldview is turned upside down.

They were at his place playing cards. After that one poker game he took Buck to, Eddie found he enjoyed playing all sorts of card games with Buck. Even though his math powers are now gone, that didn’t mean they couldn’t still have fun. Both of them had their usual beers with them, although this time they decided the loser has to take a shot of tequila after each round.

So far Eddie lost two rounds. Buck lost one. His limbs feel all nice and lose, his body practically draping over the chair. 

“So how did you figure out you liked Tommy anyways? You know – in that way.” Eddie still hung out with Tommy a couple of times. And he’s seen Tommy’s face light up when he saw him get a text from Buck. The type of brightness only a man smitten in a relationship could be. The same type of face he remembers seeing on Buck when he told Eddie, I kinda can’t stop thinking about him. And he’s seen Tommy drop Buck off at the station, kissing him goodbye as Buck is literally skipping to the locker rooms to get changed. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Buck so happy before.

A part of Eddie loves that for Buck. He can’t remember a partner of Buck’s ever making him feel like that. Another part of Eddie feels…not exactly resentment, but something close to that. And it eats him up inside. He should feel blindly happy for both his best friends. Yet for some reason he hates that Tommy is the one that brings that kind smile to Buck’s face. 

That same smile graces Buck’s face now. “Oh, when he kissed me. I didn’t even know I wanted it until he did it. That’s, uh, when I realized I liked men. Who knew there was a reason I was checking out hot guys�� asses after all this time?”

Eddie scoffs. “Well, that’s normal. We’ve all checked out a hot guy’s ass before. Doesn’t mean you’re gay or bisexual.”

Buck’s eyebrows scrunch together. “Um, right. Do you got any threes?”

tagging @911-on-abc @hippolotamus @eddiebabygirldiaz @monsterrae1

@exhuastedpigeon @liminalmemories21 @theotherbuckley @thewolvesof1998

@wikiangela @wildlife4life @filet-o-feelings @mammameesh @carlos-in-glasses

@cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @paperstorm @pirrusstuff @your-catfish-friend @watchyourbuck @daffi-990 @steadfastsaturnsrings

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 5

Eminem x Reader (Y/N) fanfiction

Summary : Y/N spends the evening with Marshall after avoiding him for weeks.

Tags : -

For the following weeks, you drowned yourself into your work in order to restrain from thinking about Simon or Marshall. The only people you saw were either at university, at home or at meetings. You were especially grateful for the latter, as you found yourself craving relief from either pills or alcohol. Thankfully, going to meetings and therapy kept you sane and you were able to fight the urge. You went to the studio once or twice, as Jamal invited you, but you sort of avoided Marshall. You saw him, but apart from greetings and small talk you didn’t go out of your way to have actual conversations and meaningful exchanges with him. 

Thursday night came and, for the first time ever, you had the house to yourself. Jamal and Talia were celebrating their fifth anniversary by going on a dinner date. Your best friend was so worried for you that she almost cancelled their plans, much to her boyfriend’s dismay. Thankfully, you had convinced her to leave you alone in the house. 

I’ll be fine, you said. You guys deserve a night out. 

Are you going to be ok ? I’ll have my phone with me and you can call me if you need ! She said. 

Babe, you’re worrying too much. She should be fine for a few hours, Jamal said rolling his eyes. 

Yes ! You said. And I promise the house will be intact when you come back. I won’t set it on fire or anything, you added jokingly. 

You sent them off to their date with a smile. Before closing the door, Jamal looked at you and pulled you in for a quick conversation. 

Look, I know you’ll be fine, we trust you and shit, but you know you can also call Marshall if you need, right ? Actually, it might be cool if you did. He asked about you the other day. I think he misses you at the studio, he said with a wink. 

Really ? You asked. 

Yeah. He seems to really like you. I don’t think I have seen him like this with anyone else. And I’m not dumb, you know. 

What do you mean ? 

I know you like him. 

What ? I don’t, you said with embarrassment.

Is there any other reason why you have avoided him like the plague these past three weeks ? Or any conversation about him ? Jamal asked with a grin. 

It’s… complicated. Can we leave it at that ? You pleaded. 

Look, it’s none of my business, but you like him and he cares a lot about you. It’s all I’m saying, he said before leaving. 

You were kind of intrigued by what Jamal had told you. Had Marshall really asked about you ? If so, why hadn’t he called you directly ? 

After giving it a lot of thought, you decided to text him. 

To : M 

Hey. How are you ? 

You felt your phone buzzing almost immediately. It was him calling you. 

Hey, he said. Are you alright ? 

Yes, you said. How are you ? 

I’m good. 

There was a moment of awkward silence. 

Am I bothering you ? You asked. 

I’m the one who called you, he said with a chuckle. 

Right, you said as you blushed in embarrassment. 

I’m not busy anyway. I’m at home just chilling. Do you want to come over and hang out ? He offered. 

Uh… sure. Text me the address and I’ll get a cab. 

Will do. 

He texted you his address and you quickly got ready. You kind of struggled to choose an outfit. You wanted it to send just the right message : “I made an effort because I want you to see what you missed the other night but I also don’t want you to think I am trying too hard”. After a careful examination of your entire closet, you put on a pair of skinny jeans that showed off your figure, a simple tee-shirt and your hoodie from Uni. You knew the jeans showcased your ass perfectly and, since he had already seen you topless, it was just the area to highlight. 

You called a cab and got to his place. You’d never been here before. You found yourself in front of a mansion that was easily five times as big as your childhood home. You rang the doorbell and were greeted by Marshall who just got out of the shower, all dressed but his hair still wet. You were scared it would be awkward, seeing him for the first time in three weeks, but he greeted you in his usual way, by giving you a hug. Only, it felt a little different this time, probably because it was just the two of you, and you could remember the feeling of his skin against yours. 

Thanks for coming, he said as he led you to the living room. 

I’m happy to see you, you confessed. 

Are you ? I’ll be honest, I kind of thought you were avoiding me, he said with a shrug. You were sort of… distant ? 

I wasn’t sure you wanted to see me either. You haven’t called or visited Talia and Jamal like you usually do. 

I was thinking you might need time to think. 

“About what ?”, you almost asked. But you didn’t. You didn’t want to make things awkward. 

I’m a bit better now, you told him. 

Good.  So… do you want to talk about last time or…? 

Do you think we should ? You asked anxiously. 

You weren’t sure there was a need to add anything. And you were sort of embarrassed at the memory that you jumped on him and he pushed you away. 

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, he said. 

It’s fine, Marshall. We’re adults, you said. 

So you understand why I pushed you away ? He asked carefully. 

Look, you don’t like me like that, and that’s ok, you said. I acted on impulse. You were here, I was sad and hurt, I needed to change my mind, I was attracted to you and… well, you were here so you remember what came next… 

I think you’re amazing, he rectified. I didn’t want to take advantage of whatever it is that you felt that night. 

You looked at him, biting your lower lip. It’s true that, as horny as you were, you probably weren’t in your right mind. If anything further had happened between the two of you, it might have added to your confusion. You nodded. 

Also, I’ve had time to think about it some more, he admitted. And I know for sure it would have been a bad idea anyway. 

Yeah, maybe, you said, even though you felt a little disappointed. 

I mean, I’m almost twice your age and you’re recovering, so… 

Yeah, yeah, I know, you cut him. 

Even though you knew he was right, you didn’t really want to hear it.

I’m glad we’re on the same page then, he said with a smile. 

Again, I’m sorry. I didn’t want things to be weird. I just… you started. 

I know. We’re cool, he assured you.  

You stared at each other for a few seconds and chuckled. His smile helped you ease a little, although you couldn’t help but feel a tad disappointed. As right as his arguments were, you were having trouble getting the other night out of your head. 

I was about to watch a movie when you called. Want to do that ? He offered. 

Sure. What are we watching ? 

I’m in the mood for something scary. Why don’t you pick ? 

There’s one I haven’t been able to get through, you admitted. It’s « Us ». Have you seen it ?

Really ? You’re that much of a pussy ? He joked. 

Shut up ! It’s really scary, ok ? I had to stop midway. It gave me nightmares. 

I haven’t seen it, but now, you got me intrigued, he admitted. Come on. 

He got up and waited for you to follow him. You were already in the living room in front of a massive TV. You were confused. 

Aren’t we going to watch it here ? 

No. It’ll be better in the home theater, on the big screen, he explained. 

He led you to his movie room that had a big screen and huge couches. It could easily fit twenty people, with plenty of room to spare. The room was complete with a fridge and every couch had pillows and throws on it. Perks of having a lot of money, you guessed. 

Drinks ? He offered while opening the fridge, which seemed to contain all the sorts of alcohol-free beverages you could think of. 

Yeah, sure. I’ll have a Dr Pepper please. 

You sat next to each other and started the movie. The room was pitch black and the only light was coming from the screen. Every scene seemed to startle you, which never failed to make Marshall laugh. 

Come on !!! You can’t tell me that isn’t scary, you said. 

I don’t have time to be scared, you’re shitting your pants for the both of us, he chuckled. 

Shut up, you pouted. 

One very scary scene came up and you spilled your soda all over yourself and Marshall. 

Shit, I’m sorry 

Relax, he said. 

Your top was soaking wet and so were the tee-shirt underneath and your bra. Thankfully your jeans were intact. 

Marshall got up and brought tee-shirts for the two of you to change. 

Give me your clothes, I'll put them in the wash, he said.

You turned around and took your wet clothes off as he did the same. You put on the tee-shirt he gave you and turned back, only to see him shirtless, which made you blush. Thank god the room was still dark enough. He was staring at you intensely. 

Are you alright ? You asked. 

Yeah, he said as he bit his lip while quickly putting on a clean tee-shirt.  

Had he been staring at your naked back ? You found yourself amused by the idea. You were also slightly aroused by the sight of him half naked, even though it was dark and you couldn’t see much. You knew you shouldn’t be thinking about him that way, but you couldn’t help it.  You sat back and resumed the movie. Once again, you jumped at every scene. 

Thank God you don’t have a drink anymore, my wardrobe wouldn’t be big enough to provide changes of clothes, he laughed. 

Shut up, you said. 

Quit the attitude, he playfully warned you. Or I’ll leave you alone to watch the movie. 

Please don’t, you pleaded.

The only reason you kept watching is because you were with him. You were so scared you wouldn’t be able to watch it on your own. Especially in such a big house. 

What is so scary anyway ? He asked. I mean, it’s kind of creepy but it’s not too bad. 

There’s just something about the atmosphere you know ? You explained. Also, I once got lost in a fun fair when I was four and it reminds me of that time. I thought I’d never find my dad back. My mom had died a couple of years before and I… I thought I would never have a family again.It was super scary. 

He nodded and put his arm around your shoulders. 

Better ? He asked. 

Mmmh, you nodded as you felt yourself blushing. 

You rested your head on his shoulder and watched the rest of the movie. 

God you move so much it’s impossible to focus, Marshall complained. I should tie you up or something. 

You stared at him with your mouth slightly opened as you waited for him to realize what he had just said. 

Not like that. Idiot, he rolled his eyes laughing.  

Perv, you said playfully. 

Don’t start, he warned you with a smile. 

You bit your lip, knowing full well you could be bratty enough to indeed start. However, you decided to be reasonable and not to do anything. 

We have about twenty minutes of movie left. You think you can sit still ? He asked with a grin. 

You rolled your eyes and watched the screen as your only answer. Only you weren’t really watching. Your mind wandered and you thought of Marshall’s touch as his hand grazed your arm. His words came to mind. You wouldn’t be against him tying you… you gnawed on your lip. You were a horny mess. You had been for about three weeks now. You took a look at him, focused on the screen.  It was hard not to stare at his face. His blue eyes, his nose, his perfect lips. You didn’t really believe in God, but if He did exist, Marshall was a fine specimen of His creation. You forced yourself to look at the screen but soon found yourself burying your face in Marshall’s neck as a screamer scene came on. He jumped a bit, probably more startled by you than the movie. 

Pussy, he whispered before laughing. 

You didn’t reply, your face still in his neck, but you still lifted your middle finger in his face. As a response, he firmly grabbed your wrist and put your hand down. He let out a sigh. 

I’m gonna have to teach you some manners, Y/N, he scolded you. 

You started it, you replied. 

Still, you should learn how to respect your elders, he joked. 

Ok grandpa, you whispered in his ear. 

Fuck you, you brat. 

You let out a laugh as the movie came to an end. You were still in Marshall’s arms and, even though you were glad the movie was over, you wanted the moment to last a bit longer. 

So ? You liked the movie ? You asked. 

I did enjoy the few parts I could focus on, he said with a smile. You know, when you weren’t ruining my clothes or jumping on me. 

It was scary ! You defended yourself. 

Some parts were kinda creepy, he admitted. But you’re worse than a kid with ADHD ! 

I’m not ! 

You are. And it’s the last time I’m ever watching a movie with you, he said with a laugh.

You pretended to pout as you crossed your arms to your chest. Marshall proceeded to ignore you as he got up to turn off the movie and turn on the lights. 

Pouting won’t work, he said with a grin. Three kids, remember ? 

You playfully rolled your eyes at his comment. 

Behave, Y/N, he said. 

Make me, old man.

Before you could move, he was pinning you to the couch, crushing you with his weight. 

Now, you better apologize to me, he said with a smirk. 

In your dreams, maybe, you replied. 

He proceeded to put even more weight on you, crushing you even more. You could hardly breathe. 

Marshall… you pleaded. 

Apologize, he said playfully yet firmly.  

You ignored his order as you tried to squirm from under him. He did his best to pin you down, grabbing your wrists in his hand and holding your arms over your head. It was not the desired effect but you found the situation extremely hot. To be fair, you didn’t need much. Without really meaning to, you let out a soft moan. 

Y/N… Marshall groaned. 

God, your name in his mouth sounded so hot. You looked at him with so much desire. He closed his eyes and maintained his firm grip on your wrists. 

You’re a brat, he whispered in your ears. 

That’s why you like me, you whispered back. 

Fuck it, he said as his eyes darkened and his face moved closer to yours.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem imagine #eminem fluff #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers headcanons

[seangelfish]

Hello there, how are you? :)

My mind has been thinking about HiMERU finding cold-hearted&toughfem!reader drinking alone, and takes her alcohol away, suggesting to do something else.

I leave the rest to you.

NSFW pls.

Ignore if you want. Thank you 😁

A/N: Hello there! I’ve been doing well, thanks for asking! ⸜( *ˊᵕˋ* )⸝ This is my first ever NSFW request so I’m pretty excited. HiMERU is my fave member from Crazy:B, so I hope this goes well... (I keep forgetting he refers to himself in 3rd person lol). Anyways, enjoy!! (´ ε ` )♡ This was actually kind of hard to write, so I'm sorry if it's bad! I also decided to change the theme to my NSFW works! I hope you all like it!

Stress reliever

HiMERU x Reader ♡ Genres/tags: Smut (NSFW) ♡ Content warnings: fem!AFAB reader, oral (receiving), missionary, vanilla sex, not proofread! ♡ Word count: 2,710 ♡ Summary: HiMERU has always cared about your well-being, even to a point he’d try to meet you everyday to ask how you were. Unluckily for him though, you were one of the coldest producers at Cos Pro who would constantly shake his advances off.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! NSFW below the cut. Please proceed with caution.

It wasn't love at first sight.

On HiMERU's first day at Cos Pro as a new idol, you were rather unwelcoming. He had greeted you, bowed too, but you merely nodded at him and walked away. He didn't mind it though, he already knew what he was getting into when he decided to become an idol. It was inevitable to encounter someone like you in the industry.

However, despite that encounter, whenever HiMERU would bump into you, he still made the effort to greet you a good morning or afternoon. Because you were still one of his producers, he wanted to be polite and respectful.

“Good morning, Miss (Y/N).”

However, you continued to give him the cold shoulder. He didn’t understand this until another producer informed him that you were like that with everyone.

“You should just leave her be, okay? I don’t think (Y/N) even cares for socialising.”

But HiMERU couldn’t leave you be. He wanted to talk to you all the time. He wanted to know about your well-being. Even when you’ve only exchanged a few words with him, he was completely smitten with you.

Maybe it was the way you carried yourself or the way you did your work. You were so focused with work that you were able to finish it in a day or so. Even when your personality was as cold as ice, you were seen as the most reliable producer in the agency.

Not only that, but you were beautiful. HiMERU’s eyes would light up whenever he caught a glimpse of you. He’d never miss the opportunity to say hello.

Fortunately for him, you were assigned as one of Crazy:B’s producers. Unfortunately for you, Crazy:B was the last unit you’d ever think of working with.

“I guess it can’t be helped,” you said. “Nice to meet you all. I’m (Y/N) (L/N). From today on, I’m your producer. I’ll be helping you with all your work.”

Rinne immediately tried to woo you, but you completely ignored him. Niki tried thanking you for your time, but you blankly replied with, “No need to thank me. It’s my job.” Kohaku could understand that you didn’t want to be a part of this group, so he merely bowed and left you be. HiMERU, however…

“It’s nice to see you again,” he said. “HiMERU hopes we can get along better now, Miss (Y/N).”

You stared at him for a moment before replying with, “Keep hoping.” You then picked up your belongings and walked away. He watched your figure speed off, your heels clanking sharply at the floor.

However, by time, you did warm up a little to the group. You were still cold and tough as ever which showed a lot in the work you set them, but you smiled a bit more. HiMERU liked seeing this progress.

His relationship with you has also seen some progress too. Whenever he’d greet you, you actually stopped to greet him back. Of course, you were still cold with it, but you were getting there.

“Alright, that’s it for today,” you said, wrapping things up. “Now go home and rest. I’ll see you all tomorrow morning.”

Before the idols could say anything, you had already left. As the rest of Crazy:B talked about what they needed to improve on, HiMERU caught sight of your planner. You had forgotten it.

HiMERU picked up your planner and dashed out of the room, leaving the other members confused. It was 7pm by the time Crazy:B was finished with rehearsals, so that meant you were heading home.

HiMERU hoped he’d be able to catch you, but you were way too fast. Thankfully, you had informed them of your address and phone number if they ever had anything important to talk to you about.

He tried calling you, but you wouldn’t pick up. Ah, that’s right. It’s after work hours now, so of course you wouldn’t pick up. The last resort was to visit you on the way home.

Now, how was he supposed to get there?

It was 9pm by the time HiMERU finally reached your place. He was held up by other idols in the agency who tried talking to him. As polite as he ever was, he joined in the conversations. He didn’t want to make himself look bad after all.

But he was finally here. He knew how important your planner was since you brought it with you everywhere. He knocked on your door and waited.

After a few seconds, it opened up.

“Eh, HiMERU…?” you groaned. “Why are you here at this hour? …Did something happen?”

“I… uh…”

HiMERU couldn’t look away from the outfit you were wearing, but he knew that he should. You were wearing nothing else but a silky nightgown that accentuated your curves. He could tell why you wouldn’t care about your appearance because gripped in your hand was a bottle of alcohol.

“Well then, what is it?” you asked, kind of irritated. You took another long sip of the alcohol and sighed.

He avoided your gaze as he handed you over your planner.

“You left this in the rehearsal room,” he said.

But before you could take it from him, he snatched the bottle away from you.

“Hey!” you exclaimed. “That’s mine!”

“Miss (Y/N), you’re a producer at Cos Pro, HiMERU doesn't think you should be drinking the night before work tomorrow,” HiMERU stated blankly.

“Ugh, this sucks! You seriously don’t understand how much anxiety and stress I’ve incurred during my days at Cos Pro! This is the only way I can cope! So, give me back the bottle now, and leave me alone!”

HiMERU never really thought about how you might of felt. He always thought you were well kept and organised, but seeing you in front of him now said otherwise.

“Give… it… back!” you cried, trying to reach for the bottle, but HiMERU merely lifted it higher in the air.

“Miss (Y/N), there are many other ways to deal with stress,” he said. “Alcohol shouldn’t be one of them.”

“Ugh, whatever! It’s not like you have better ideas!”

“In fact, HiMERU does,” he replied, sighing. He couldn’t believe that his crush was an alcoholic.

“Alright then, tell me,” you challenged.

“HiMERU just needs your consent first.”

“Nghh... ah~!" you gasped.

You were spread out on the sofa, your nightgown pulled up to bare your nakedness as HiMERU's tongue licked your soaked folds slowly.

This wasn't what you expected when HiMERU told you he had a better idea. What you expected from him was a mature suggestion, something such as exercising to calm down your nerves, but THIS? You would have never guessed he was going to go down on you?! No wonder why he asked you for your consent and the levels of your alcohol tolerance.

And it's a good thing you had such high alcohol tolerance because the feeling of being eaten out like this felt so good. You'd hate to miss out on this.

Wait, what on earth are you thinking?!

“Ah~ mhmm…”

You couldn't believe that you're just letting him eat you out like this! Out of all people as well? HiMERU?! ...Well, it's not like you ever hated him. Sure, you've treated him coldly, but that's because you're at work to do work, not to make friends. All you ever cared about was surviving. You were only working in Cos Pro to earn money to live. So, keeping up a cold, tough act was one way to do it. Unfortunately, work at Cos Pro was absolutely aggravating and depressing. That's why you had resorted to alcohol.

But this... this seems to be more pleasurable.

His hands kept your legs secured and spread out as he continued to lick and suck on your pussy, leaving trails of kisses here and there across the inner parts of your thighs.

"Ahhh~ feels... so... good~"

He smirked. He liked the sounds you were making because of him, and he was happy that you were enjoying yourself too. He knew that sex was a good way to reduce negative emotions, and it's a lot more healthier than taking in alcohol. However, he also knew that this was something he would never think of doing with his producer let alone his crush. Was he perhaps... breaking out of character...?

He was only planning on making you feel good, so you were able to get a good night's rest before tomorrow morning, but a tent formed in his pants too. He wanted you so bad, but he knew he shouldn't. He vowed that once you came, he was going to leave. He was only doing this for you and you only, it wasn't about himself.

Out of the blue, you grabbed his blue locks and shoved him closer to your pussy.

"Ahh~! More...! Please give me more...!" you pleaded. "Ngh~!"

He gagged a bit, but obeyed. The flicking of his tongue inside your pussy sped up, causing your moans to build up too. As he looked at your face from below, you made eye contact with him. His gleaming yellow eyes looked particularly sexy from down there, it made your face even more hotter than it was before.

"Mmm~" you went. Something within you wanted even more than this.

Your pretty figure arched at his touch.

"HiMERU, I'm... I'm going to c-come...!"

"Hah..." he groaned, lifting his head up from between your legs. "Then come..."

You did as you were told. He watched you squirt all over the sofa, soaking it in the process. You panted in exhaustion, but you couldn't help but smile at how good that felt.

"You came... that's great..." he muttered, panting. "HiMERU will get you cleaned up now. Have a good night, okay? HiMERU will taking your alcohol away too."

He stood up, but you immediately grabbed his hand, yanking him back down. He caught himself before he fell right on top of you, his arms on each side of you as he looked down at you from below.

"Please stay..." you whispered, reaching for his neck. "I want more of you... I want you inside me..."

HiMERU's cheeks instantly turned pink. He couldn't believe the words that came out of your mouth. "(Y/N), I can't..." he said, dropping the honourifics and looking away.

"Please, HiMERU... you want me too, right?" you said, eyeing his boner. "I'll let you have all of me."

He was silent for a bit, but then looked back at you. You looked desperate and extremely needy. Sweat rolled down your flushed face, your eyes begging him to completely rail you.

He sighed and leaned down a bit so that your lips touched his ever so slightly.

"Are you sure about this?" he whispered. "I won't hold back."

"Yes... I'm sure... I want you to fuck me..."

"...Alright."

Your arms wrapped around his neck once he completely laid his body weight on yours. He kissed your lips tenderly, but on the other hand, you bit his. You kissed him roughly which he didn't seem to mind, so he returned the action. Saliva started to form between your tongues as you parted, a thin string swung.

"Hah..." he moaned. He still couldn't believe that he was doing this with his producer, someone in a higher position than him in the industry. He couldn't believe that he was doing it with you, his crush in the industry, the beautiful yet cold woman he had fallen in love with. He was rather lucky if he thought about it.

He unbuckled his belt as you waited for him excitedly. He pulled his boxers down and his cock sprung out. It was big and hard, precum had already seeped out of the tip. It was such a pretty cock that even you would love it if he shoved it down your throat.

His tip brushed against your flaps causing you to moan. He did this several times as if he was teasing you, but he just loved the sight of his dick just stroking your pussy, and the sight of you being irritated that you hadn't put it in yet.

"HiMERU!" you cried. "Just put it in alr–"

HiMERU shoved his dick into your hole before you could finish your sentence. He began to ram into you as fast as he could.

"Gyah~!" you cried. "Ahh~ ahh~!"

"Hah... you're... tight..." he mumbled. "Ugh... fuck... this feels... good...!"

Thrusting his dick in and out of you, HiMERU pulled your nightgown even higher to expose your breasts. He nibbled at your nipples which were hard from how aroused you were.

"Ahh~! H-HiMERU...!"

"(Y/N)... fuck..."

His tongue swirled around your nipple as he began to suck on it roughly, another hand caressing the other boob slowly.

"H-HiMERU..." you moaned. "I can't... believe that we're doing this... haha... I can't believe I'm doing this..."

"Neither does HiMERU," he replied, thrusting into you with no intentions of stopping. "HiMERU doesn't understand why you're okay with this... when... you never wanted to look his way..."

You were silent for a moment, avoiding his eyes.

"I just hope... you don't hate 'me'..." he mumbled. "'I' like you a lot, (Y/N)..."

"I don't necessarily 'hate' you..." you said slowly, kissing the corner of his mouth. "I never hated you."

You smiled at him, a genuine, pretty smile that he has never seen you pull at work ever. This was new to him, this emotion that you were portraying. You looked like a completely different person now from the producer he had fallen in love with.

He was in awe, he was in love. He wanted to see you smile like that all the time. Still, he loved the cold, tough woman you were at work too, but this version of you was something he could adore as well.

He smiled at you sadly. "You really are beautiful," he stated, kissing your forehead softly. "I hope you can smile like that more..."

Your hand made its way to cup HiMERU's cheek. "You're so nice to me even when I haven't been as nice to you... don't do that to yourself..." you whispered, eyes beginning to water. You couldn't believe how kind he was to you, a woman who was seen as cold-hearted.

His pace slowed down. He held your hand and shook his head, "No matter what you say, or anyone for that fact, I won't ever stop being kind to you. As I've stated before..." he continued to his cock deep into you. "I love you, (Y/N)."

"Ah... ah... H-HiMERU..."

And as on cue, you came right on his dick. He kissed your cheek as you panted uncontrollably. Pulling himself out of you, he rubbed his dick a little bit before coming onto your naked body. Warm cum dripped onto your chest, coating it in a white finish. HiMERU would like to admit that he liked the sight in front of him, having you covered in his cum.

"H-HiMERU... thank you..."

"Of course."

He helped you clean up before he left. Once he was outside your door, you called after him.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Um... would you... be able to help me out again?" you said sheepishly. "Uh... with my anxiety and stuff..."

He snickered. Holding your cheek gently, he nodded. "If you ever need me, I'll be there for you... no matter what you need me to do, I'll do it."

You watched him walk down the hallway and down the steps of your apartment. You closed the door with a sigh. A smile crept up your face.

"Heh... that was a good stress reliever~"

After that one night, the two of you began to relieve each other's stress with even more sex. Whenever you were stressed out at work, HiMERU was willing to give you a quick fingering in your office... or whether he was having a bad day due to Rinne, you would reciprocate with a quick blowjob in the bathrooms. Although the two of you kept it professional within the workplace, you just couldn't help but touch each other and help the other out. As the days progressed, perhaps the two of you would turn this little playdate thing into a more established relationship where you're able to fuck HiMERU to your heart's content.

Intro page | Ensemble Stars masterlist | Rules

#ensemble stars x reader #enstars x reader #ensemble stars #enstars #fanfic #x reader #himeru x reader #himeru x reader smut #enstars smut #enstars x reader smut #himeru smut

[cerezzzita]

🍓 ˖ . ᵎᵎ Confessions features Alcohol (Sometimes) ✦ Dante x gn!Reader

⌕ summary: Dante and alcohol could be like water and oil — under no circumstances should they mix. Yet, at that night, it seems he's up to something with that drunk, big mouth of his.

notes: my god I'm nervous asf. um, hi y'all, guess who's back at writing after almost full 5 months of hiatus? that's right, we're back in action! i finally finished this little, silly oneshot that was rotting in my docs for... 7 months? geez, me and my lazy ass. anyways! i hope you all enjoy the reading! i wrote this with 4dante in mind but honestly, it can be any Dante, it's up to your imagination <3

⋆ 08/07/23 edit: i forgot to mention, but this fic was born thanks to this writing prompt, i just couldn't found it easily hehe

♡ word count: 1.125

♡ tags: fluffy, gender-neutral reader, no use of pronouns or reader's appearance description (you/yours used only), mentions of alcohol, drunk Dante (and he's sooo soft), Dante might be ooc sorry in advance, love confessions.

ⓘ gif's not mine!!

Dante and alcohol could be like water and oil — under no circumstances should they mix. Truth be told, specifically that night was not one where you enjoyed a patient mood, especially with the drunken Devil Hunter lying on the worn leather sofa and every half minute calling you and even dropping occasional flirtations. You were now in the kitchen, dedicating yourself to washing a considerable amount of dishes while from the corner of your eye you watched Dante, posture still relaxed and with a smile easily more dancing than usual, making sure that he wouldn't do anything that would mean usual danger for a person guided by the lack of sense that alcohol usually provides. However, the brief thought swept out of your mind; it was Dante. The man had a natural, bizarre attraction to danger. 

That's when the handsome half-demon shook his head, his clear, icy-colored irises glazed over your back-to-back figure. Dante pouted for not getting the attention he wanted so much, then opened his mouth and verbalized his need.

"Babe," he began, loud enough that his voice scrambled from earlier hours' whiskey filled the short distance between them. You, however, sighed, determined to ignore him until he fell asleep from some miraculous, alcoholic effect.

Which was definitely not a good choice. Dante hated being ignored.

"Baaabe..."

"What is it now, Dante?" you answered over your teeth. He whimpered at such harshness.

"Don't be like that, loveee," he whined through his tone, "You're being a big meanie to me today, y'know that?"

"A meanie? Me?" your heels pivoted so that you were now facing him, one hand on your hips and your brow forming an arc of curiosity. "Why?"

Dante sipped the rest of a bottle of Jack Daniels, exhaling audibly at the end. Once again his typical smile grew at the corners of his mouth; you gulped, blinked and woke up to your somewhat glassy-eyed state attached in the Devil Hunter.

What exactly would it take for a man like Dante to be so attractive?

"Because I want attention," he replied, a simple retort that made the inside of your chest heave and your hand on your waist falter. Dante, although drunk, seemed to notice this act and widened the left corner of his feline smile even more. "And you're being a meanie 'cause you're not paying attention to me. Come here, sugar… I want smoochies."

At other times, you would chuckle and brush it off. It was common for you to deal with the half-demon on these alcohol-soaked nights, whether they were made up of flirtations and jokes or tears and outbursts — a part of you, even if momentarily, was grateful for the night's choice to be the first alternative. But something in Dante's tone alerted the part that was costing your frustrated attempts at concealment, the very same part that just now stirred just by witnessing his smile and the permanent gaze on you.

It didn't take that much clairvoyance to see the obvious: you were undeniably in love with Dante. A passion that you swore was, somehow, one-sided.

Your impatience melted away and the silence permeating the air of the place became metamorphic; from casual to uncomfortable. Dante tilted his head, waiting for an answer from you. You sighed, returned your focus to the last dishes and resigned yourself to drying them as a form of slight distraction.

"Dante, you're drunk."

He laughed briefly between words, "Tell me something I don't know, angelcake."

"You're talking nonsense."

"Maybe. But I still want some smoochies… Unless you don't want them, it's fine by me."

Once your work with the dishes was duly finished, you once again looked over your shoulder at him. Dante's lids drooped as the silent minutes passed by, his voice quieting, silver strands trailing across the back of the couch as he laid his head down. He was finally falling asleep.

You approached the half-demon's sleeping figure, uttering a 'tsk, tsk' which elicited a small chuckle.

"What do I do with you, Dante?"

The end of this night would be like that of many others, it would be up to you the arduous mission of putting Sparda's beautiful son to bed. Arduous for he certainly wasn't the lightest of beings and even though the habit made it look easy, your human muscles totally begged to differ.

Grunting as you struggled to carry him bridal style, you climbed the stairs to the top floor and with a little sacrifice managed to open the door to Dante's room. Before leaving him on the bed, babbling came directly from him, who now accommodated his face in the crook of your neck.

"Y'know, you're amazing…"

Subtly taken aback, you choose to listen to what the sleepy Dante had to say — for curiosity and for the unique, strong beat your heart emitted.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. You're also beautiful, and smart, and funny, and hot…" from there, you became hot with embarrassment as Dante's voice wakes up again, "You're so much fun! Man, no wonder I'm in love with you."

Your heart, happy and passionate, fluttered inside your ribcage. Your eyes wanted to pop out of their sockets. The surprising, heated euphoria altered your body temperature. Your arms softened like a sweet pudding, swaying and unconsciously allowing Dante to fall to the ground.

"... Ow..."

It wasn't possible, was it? Was it the illusions of the booze, or was Dante really in love with you too?

You gasped as you realized what you'd done, rushing to get the half-demon back in your arms in a fleeting act of trying to regain consciousness and collect all your agitated — but now happy — thoughts.

All right. Dante was known for many attributes, one of them was his frankness. And being drunk this same frankness was reinforced tenfold, in fact. There would be no reason for him to lie.

However, words like these had a huge impact.

You took a deep breath, carefully positioning Dante on the soft mattress and giving him one last look to make sure you didn't just lay him down and that he was comfortable enough. He mumbled as if he was in an argument with sleep, now lying face down on the bed. Your hand snaked into the untidy silver hair to pull it back from Dante's stunning face, your heart calmer and moving to a slower beat. You smiled, your eyes wryly drunk on the man's sleeping vision.

"Sweet dreams, daredevil."

You gave a shy peck on his cheek. Dante stretched a petit smile, and yours grew. Leaving the dark room, you headed for yours, even more wrapped in your feelings, which you now knew were reciprocated.

Quite a confession that could only have the signature of someone like Dante.

cerezzzita©, 2023 · all rights reserved ⓘ do not copy, edit, steal or claim as yours | reblogs and comments are welcome!

#devil may cry #devil may cry x reader #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc dante #dante devil may cry #dante x reader #dante sparda #dante sparda x reader #x reader #reader insert #fluffy fanfiction #gender neutral reader #dante x gender neutral reader #dmc3 #dmc4 #dmc5 #devil may cry dante x reader

[fanandfiction]

Night at The Bar - Sevika X Reader

I am feeling inspired by the headcanon I wrote the other day to write some more :D Thank you for the response on the last one!? Should there be a part two to this? If you have any Arcane-specific requests feel free to ask! 

Sevika X Fem!Reader 

Word Count: 4.2k words

Summary: You’re the sweet new bartender at the Last Drop, and you’ve seemed to catch the eye of one of the regulars. (This story is set in Act 1 of Arcane). 

Tags/Warnings: +18 MDNI/NSFW,  Dubious Consent, Groping, kinda Shy!Reader, Inexperienced!Reader, Sex Workers, Alcohol Consumption, Drinking, Catcalling, Kissing, Canon Typical Violence, Pet names, Sevika still has her arm 0.0

The air in the undercity was always dense and thick, and tonight it was no different. Clouds of exhaust and fog surrounded the Last Drop, small streams of murky water lined the streets filling in potholes as they went, making some innocent-looking puddles treacherous. Somehow, the conditions hadn’t deterred people from meandering through the street in various states of soberness and through the doors for a drink or two.

The air inside the bar was just as, if not more, dense than the air outside. On top of that, it was hot, almost suffocating to anyone not used to it. And the bar, an already busy hotspot, had been seeing a lot more business than usual, making the heat ten times worse. The reason- the lovely new bartender Vander hired. 

He hired you hoping his workload would lessen, yet somehow that backfired on him entirely. There’s a certain softness and warmth that you’ve got that’s rare in the undercity. You would greet every customer with a smile and promise to attend to their needs as soon as possible. Regulars knew they could come rant to you, and you would genuinely listen. And despite the influx of customers, no one was ever waiting too long. Food was served hot and ready, and the drinks were always ice cold. Anyone you served left feeling cared for and loved.

How you survived relatively unscathed by the undercity for so long will remain a mystery. You weren’t without the usual scratches and bruises one was subject to from the undercity. You’re an orphan like most, but let's be honest, if you weren’t an orphan in this economy, your parents might’ve sold you otherwise.

 You were a cute kid, so for most of your childhood, people would give you their scraps in return for small services, mostly errands like deliveries or small cleaning services. As you aged, you found a good mom in Babette at the brothel. She never let you be a working girl- she forbade it. Insisting she didn’t want that life for you and that you were too innocent for that kind of work anyway.

 So for a while, you would just work the front desk at the brothel, and growing up, that was more than enough. You would rent rooms and pleasure to the men and women of Zuan and Piltover alike. The only issue was you were never in a position to make connections with people, and you never would be if you had stayed there. The customers at the brothel weren’t there to make connections, and if they were, they weren’t with the desk attendant. As you got older and gained more control over your life and a sense of the undercity, you started looking for different jobs. Lo-and-behold now you find yourself working for Vander at the Last Drop. You still live with Babette; with the undercity how it is, there wasn’t anywhere else for you to go. She remains the present mother figure in your life, and you’re on fantastic terms.

Though, as much as you would like it to be, your employment at the Last Drop wasn’t coincidental. You would never know though, that Babette went to Vander as soon as you told her you were looking for a new job. She knew he was looking to hire some help, and he owed her a favor. He didn’t think it’d be so bad- he initially thought maybe she was doing him a favor. You had an outstanding work ethic, and you completed all tasks promptly. How wrong he was.

Vander realized quickly that your soft naivety would be your downfall if he didn’t intervene. Your softness attracted people, and there were hardly any good-intentioned people in the undercity. People would come and share the vaguest sob stories, and you would show them the same compassion every time. You would offer them a warm drink and sometimes even a hug. Vander knew the ones who asked for hugs only ever had ill intentions. They only wanted to feel you up, but he never had the heart to tell you they were creeps. Vander adored the empathy and compassion you offered everyone, and you weren’t completely unaware. So he would intervene when customers held on for too long, or customers got too handsy. 

Tonight nothing had happened so far- it was just as busy as the other nights were. Most of the tables were full of people playing cards, making illegal trades, eating- any underground activity you could name someone was probably doing. You were setting drinks you had just made on a tray to take to a table on the floor. Your shift had just started, and you were feeling pretty good. 

“I’m gonna take this to table 3,” You shout over all the bar ruckus. Somehow, you were balancing the tray of drinks in the palm of your hand.  

“You got it?” Vander asked, nodding towards the large tray of drinks that wobbled haphazardly in your hand. 

“Yep!” You give him a reassuring smile that did nothing to reassure him (he wouldn’t tell you that) before going on your way towards the table. 

The table was a group of younger-looking men who wore leather and tight black clothes. They had various melee weapons in the form of spiked bats and metal batons, which wasn’t uncommon for most people in the undercity. They were probably a part of the various gangs that made up Zaun.

 They got rowdy and erupted in cheers as soon as they noticed you carrying their drinks. That also wasn’t uncommon- the group would likely get louder the more they drank. Plenty of other groups came in every night, drinking together and looking for a good time. You didn’t mind if everyone was having fun- if they were happy, so were you.

“Alrighty, lads! The pretty lady has finally returned with our drinks!” you couldn’t tell who shouted, but you laughed along with them and set down their drinks one by one as they erupted into laughter and cheers. 

“Is there anything else I can get you?” You ask after everyone has what they ordered. 

Your eyes made rounds through the group but ultimately ended up on the man seated closest to you. He had a round head with a pointed chin, his face was decorated with piercings, and his eyes protruded from his face in a way that made him look wide awake. On his scalp rested a spiked mohawk. The tips were colored hot pink, and the rest of it faded to black. 

He gave you a toothy grin, “Are you on the menu?”

 The way he was slurring his words, you could tell he was at least a little tipsy. His buddies were as well. The other men start cheering for him like dogs as if he actually said something important. 

Thinking drunk-flirty customers were just a part of the job, you were ready to ignore what he said when his hand came down hard against your behind. He squeezed your flesh tightly in the palm of his hand, groping your ass. You shrieked loudly on impact, more startled by the fact that he had his hands on you than anything. 

Vander had witnessed this all and was ready to jump the counter and rip the man to shreds when the slamming of the front door halted everyone in the establishment. You, the man with a handful of your ass, his table, everyone- stopped what they were doing to look at who entered. 

A tall brutish woman with broad shoulders, someone you recognized as one of Vander’s regulars (meaning: only he was allowed to serve her when she was there), had walked through the door and stood at the entrance. If you recall correctly, her name was Sevika.

You also had faint memories of Sevika frequenting the brothel. She would ignore you and go straight to Babette's office before one of the working girls came and took her back to their rooms. Babette had many friends who did this, so you never thought anything of her visits. Babette did it to cover any activity topsiders might come to question her about concerning customers. 

Sevika locked eyes with you immediately. The table you were waiting on was closest to the door. She instantly looked you up and down and noticed that as she did, the man holding you had quickly removed his hand. By then, it was too late. She had put two and two together and recognized that whatever was happening wasn’t consensual. 

“Hmph,” she grunted, approaching the table. Her boots made a heavy impact on the floor as she neared, and the sound her boot’s made sent waves and waves of vibrations through you. You squeezed the tray you were holding closer to your body. 

“What do you think you're doing?” Sevika snarled slowly, nearly walking through you to get to the man who had just assaulted you. 

“B-Boss, I-I-I-I w-was just-“ The poor man looked as if he shit himself. It didn’t help that he was too frightened to speak. His buddies, who were laughing with him a second ago, looked as though they had seen a ghost. They were actively choosing to look anywhere but towards him and Sevika. 

“I’ve decided I don’t care what your excuse is,” she spoke, and without hesitation, she took the man's face in her hand and lifted him from his seat. His chair fell back, and his drink spilled. The man began thrashing like a fish in her hold.

 He started pleading, begging her to let go, that he was sorry, but she didn’t listen. Sevika squeezed her hand, breaking something and halting his resistance before she threw his body out the door. 

The only sign the man was still alive afterward was the meek string of whimpers he allowed to release shortly after. 

You couldn’t help but wince. While you were grateful someone came to help you, part of you really hoped that man wasn’t going to die. Little did you know, had Sevika chosen to ignore that man, Vander likely would have killed him. 

“The regular, sweetheart,” Sevika grunted, again walking through you to get past you, nearly knocking you on your ass as she went. “And make sure you bring it to the booth yourself.”

You look from her to Vander, who watched this all unfold, completely flabbergasted, as she disappears into her usual booth. Something about her voice made you want to do everything she asked, but you knew there had to be a reason only Vander or Babette ever worked with her. It was only fair to want to seek out permission before moving forward.

To your surprise, Vander began making her drink with an unreadable, solemn look on his face. 

A somber “Just try not to say too much- anything happens, I’m right here, ” and a pitiful smile was all he had to offer you before you were again on your way. This time, the tray you carried stood adorned with two glasses, one empty and one with a large ice cube and some water. A dainty bowl of orange slices and an ornate bottle of distilled spirits sat with a drink sieve and a stirring spoon. 

“G-Good Evening,” You don’t remember it being so hard to speak before. 

“Hmph,” She was shuffling a deck of playing cards back and forth between her large hands. She doesn’t look up from the playing cards at all. You decide just to set the glass and bottle in front of her on the table. Your hands tremble the entire time you’re doing this.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” you try to put a smile on your face without looking scared or forced but suspect you fail miserably. 

When she finally looks up from the cards, her eyes rake slowly up your body in a way that’s almost predatorial. You feel as though she’s going to eat you alive. A shiver runs down your spine. She then looks at the glasses and back at you almost expectantly- you’re shaken by this immediately. Did you forget something? Was this not what Vander did when giving her her beverages? It wasn’t this tension brewing between the two of you that was the reason as to why you weren’t allowed around her, right? Was it like this with everyone she encountered? 

“Are you not going to come and pour me a glass,” she pats the leather seat next to her like a cat owner does when calling their cat to them. Except this was slower and more seductive, a clear trap, even to you.

“I-I have other tables that need t-tending. I-It would be rather rude of me to leave them abruptly,” You try to decline politely, on the technicality that it was, in parts, a self-serve drink. You couldn’t explain why but something felt dangerous about crawling into the booth with Sevika. Something was screaming at you that it wouldn’t be a good idea. 

“You don’t want to?” her deep voice was so enticing. You watched her dark lips as they moved. Sevika, in reality, wasn’t really doing that much to convince you, and already there was a spell over you. “I see you sit and chat with people all the time. Did I do something wrong? Is there something wrong with-“

“No! Nononononono, there’s nothing wrong with you,” you quickly interrupt, refusing to let her finish the sentence. 

In the grand scheme of things, you were so easy for Sevika to trap. You froze halfway through, realizing what you were doing, but by that point, it was too late. You were in the booth with her. Her hand grasped your wrist, giving you an idea of how much bigger she was than you as she pulled you in to sit next to her. Your little heart was about to beat right out of your chest any minute. You weren’t sure why. You'd never been in a situation like this before.

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem pouring me a glass, should you?” She whispered. Her face was now less than an inch away from yours. She was towering over you by at least another head. An almost sadistic smirk that told you she was aware of everything she was currently doing to you found its way to her face.

 You swallow hard, unable to find a viable excuse, you mumble, “No, not at all.”

“Good, good” she looks down at you through half-closed lids, keeping that same smirk she gestures with her head towards the glass, urging you to pour her a drink. 

Realizing you hadn’t breathed at all within the last minute, you didn’t need her to tell you twice. You quietly inhaled as you sat up, savoring the sweet oxygen that filled your lungs as you reached for the bottle of spirits. 

Your hands were terribly shaky, and you were keenly aware she was monitoring you as you poured. This pour could hardly be called  “clean,” several drops of the spirit spilled as you brought the neck of the bottle to the edge of the empty cup. You filled a third of the glass with the liquor before precariously setting the beautiful bottle back down with a harsh ‘thud.’ 

You then reach for the sieve and the cup with water. The metal clangs unceremoniously against the cup as you pour water into the other glass filling it another third of the way. The liquor becomes a milky white as you pour in the water. Finally, you set the sieve down and use the stirring spoon carefully to drop the remaining ice cube into the glass. You then stir the drink once, twice, and then three times before deeming your work done.

“Give it here,” her voice was deep and thick like honey, and you were drowning in every bit of it. 

“O-Okay.” you do as she says, pulling the glass towards the two of you, scared to use your shaky hands to lift it. 

When she takes it, she purposefully brushes her hand against yours, and your heart flutters- you think maybe it has begun palpitating.  

“The oranges,” she motions with her left hand, and you lean over to pull them closer. There was no way for you to do this without leaning a little into her lap. 

The overwhelming sense of danger was still very present, yet something else you couldn’t name was beginning to smother that feeling. A particular warmth had settled in the pit of your stomach, and you couldn’t help but want to explore it a little more. 

“Hmm, good girl,” She hums. Your brain nearly melts, unused to the form of praise you were getting. 

You could safely confirm: she definitely didn’t treat Vander like this. The way she was behaving put you back in the brothel- except instead of being behind the protective glass of the front desk, you were in the place of one of the girls that would bring her back to their rooms. 

Sevika would walk with the girls, one of her beautifully muscular arms wrapped tightly around their waist as they went together. The girls would giggle obnoxiously, and Sevika would have a playful smirk on her lips as she trailed kisses up and down their necks. 

You quickly got lost in imagining yourself dressed in one of the beautiful but skimpy outfits the girls would wear, dragging Sevika back to your room, that same playful smirk decorating her face as she ghosted kissed all along the sweet spots on your neck. 

You could suddenly vividly remember the screams of pleasure the thin walls at the brothel did little to conceal. It would go on for hours and hours, and in the days following, the girls would walk around with a wobbly pep to their step and brag to the others about how good she had fucked them.

 You were so enamored by the fantasy playing out in your head that you failed to notice she brought the glass, drenched in condensation to her lips.

“Ahh,” she swallowed, bringing you back to reality, as she set her drink on the table. 

You watched with doe eyes as one of her thick hands moved to pick up an orange slice and bring it to her mouth. You felt so dizzy, and she was literally just enjoying her drink. 

The wet noise that departs from her mouth as she chews into the orange made you want her mouth elsewhere. Your mind was reeling, you’d go crazy if this went on any longer, but it didn’t look like anyone was going to come to your rescue anytime soon. A brief glance at Vander showed he was currently preoccupied with customers because of the earlier display. Everyone wanted to be served by him to avoid getting in Sevika’s way.

“Vander did well by hiring you,” Her sultry voice brings your attention back to her. Not that she had ever really lost it. Sevika had discarded the orange peel and took the glass in her hand again.  

“You pour a good drink, sweetheart,” she affirms. 

She brings the glass to her lips, sipping more of the liquid. Except Sevika doesn’t swallow when she sets the glass down this time. Instead, she uses her left hand to pick up another orange slice and cups your face in her right. Everything was moving in slow motion for you. You could hear your heart beating loudly in your ears, you worried she might be able to hear it.

She’s now towering over you, and her face starts closing in on yours. You now had a pretty clear picture of what was happening, but that didn’t stop you from gasping when her lips met yours. It offered Sevika the perfect opportunity to spill the cool liquid into your mouth. The liquid had an intense earthy, licorice flavor. Without a second thought, you swallowed and savored the bitter drink as it burned your throat on the way down. 

Before you knew it, her lips left yours, and the sweet flesh of the orange was on your lips. You took it graciously, allowing the juice to soothe the burning in your throat, all while she still held your face in her hand.

“Mmh,” Your eyes flutter, and you moan into the fruit as she feeds it to you.

You don’t get it as clean as she got hers, but she had other plans for it anyways. Without breaking eye contact, she looks at you through her own lashes as she takes the remaining orange into her mouth. 

“How was that?” She asked, setting down the clean peel. 

“G-Good,” You nervously swallow, barely managing to sputter out words. “It was good.” 

The smirk she had turned into a shit-eating grin. Whether it be the liquor or because she had just kissed you, a dopey smile showed on your face to mirror hers. 

“I’m glad,” Her thumb came to wipe excess juice from the side of your lip. “Quality control is good once in a while, isn’t it?” 

“Mmhm,” You’re eager to agree with whatever she says. 

She laughs at you. Your cheeks feel hot, and your stomach fills with butterflies even though you’re pretty sure she’s making fun of you. 

“Look at that,” You can’t, you’re too busy looking at her to care about whatever that is. She is looking past you and towards the bar. “Your boss is checkin’ in on you? Huh? How sweet.” 

She cleared her throat and nudged your side, which woke you up a little, at least enough to look up and over at the bar with her. Vander was indeed looking on with a hard unreadable look on his face. Suddenly, you were very aware of what was going on and that not only was this not an appropriate place to be doing, well, whatever this is, you were also at work. This was not the time for drinking or making out with customers.

“I-I’m sorry, I have to go.” 

“No, wait.”

You try to pull away from her, and when she doesn’t let go, all noise in the bar ceases. Vander had loudly dropped the kitchen towel that naturally rested on his shoulder onto the bar counter, halting all movement in the bar. A blatant warning, if you'd ever seen one. 

Sevika only paid him a glance before looking back to you. Her other hand reached behind her quickly. She pulled out a coin purse. 

“Are you gonna leave without a tip? Hmm?”

She let go of your face to open the purse, and you let out a deep breath. 

“Oh no!? You really don’t have to,” You try to say, but she has none of it. Sevika takes one of your smaller hands into hers and drops several gold coins into your hand. 

Closing her hand around yours, she says, “I insist.” 

You can’t say no to her.

“Now, get back to work,” She chuckles, looking past you again and towards Vander. “Before your boss comes around here and starts a fight.” 

You don't need her to tell you twice- You’re out of there in a heartbeat. Your shaky legs had barely found safely behind the bar when the men who played cards with Sevika had already begun squawking her table. You tried to lean against the counter for support, but Vander quickly ushered you through the doors that led to his family’s living quarters. 

“Are you okay? What did she do to ya? Goddamnit, I knew I shouldn’t have sent you over there.” His large hands found your shoulders as soon as you passed the threshold of what appeared to be an empty common area for his kids. He examined you for any physical harm or any severe distress. 

“I-I’m okay, she just asked me to pour her the d-drink that’s all,” You stutter, conveniently leaving out the fact that she kissed you. If Vander hadn’t seen what happened, for right now, you didn’t want to worry him by telling him what happened. Even if he knew you were lying, he wouldn’t push you to expose what happened if you didn’t want to. 

He sighed. Oh, he definitely knew you were lying. “Alright.”

“Do you think you can work for the rest of your shift?” He asked. “You don’t have to go have to either of those tables tonight if you don’t want to.” He gave you a look that told you he understood if you didn’t want to go back to work tonight after all that had happened. 

“I think I can,” You offer him your usual sweet smile. It’s contagious, and soon, he's smiling as well.

“Okay, hun, take your time coming back to work. We got plenty of customers waiting for you to come back,” He chuckled, letting you have a few minutes alone before you returned to your shift.

#sevika x reader #arcane sevika #sevika x you #vander #vander arcane #arcane #spicy #league of legends #arcane netflix #imagine #league of legends x reader #arcane x reader #arcane headcanon #wlw #lesbian

[suddenlybambi]

as long as you stay here [15] ♥ kyle broflovski

pairing : kyle broflovski x reader

college AU - 18+

tags : strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, alcohol, afab reader, she/her pronouns, eventual smut

words : 2.3k

chapter 15

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a/n - the brain went BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR and wrote this chapter 🤭

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Kyle woke up confused as he stared at the glittery pink stars stuck to the ceiling. Turning his head, he saw Y/N on the floor, rooting through a box, and everything came flooding back to him. “I ran out and grabbed you a croissant for breakfast.” She nodded over at the plate on the bedside table where, sure enough, a croissant was waiting for him.

“Sorry, did I sleep for long?” He yawned, sitting up and stretching. “What time is it?”

“11:17am,” That woke him up properly.

“Shit! I’m so sorry!” He groaned, looking around at the work she had clearly already done based on the neatly packed boxes by the door. “I didn’t mean to sleep for that long. I should have been helping.”

“Ky, it’s fine!” She smiled up at him, the nickname again making his heart race. “If it weren’t, I would have woken you up. Besides, you looked cute sleeping.” He was sure she could hear how fast his heart was beating from where she was at that point. All logical thoughts were elusive to him as he tried to remember how words were formed. “Why don’t you eat your croissant? It should still be warm. I only went out to grab it half an hour ago.” Kyle took the plate from the side, biting into the croissant and confirming that it was still warm. Not as good as the pancakes she had made for breakfast a few weeks before, but still good.

“I didn’t even hear you get up or leave…” He mumbled, looking around at what still needed to be packed while he finished his breakfast. “You’ve made a lot of progress.”

“Yeah… It was easier to figure out what I wanted to keep and what could be thrown,” She shrugged, tossing various trinkets into a box next to her. “Most of it is junk. I’m putting it off, but I really need to go through my paperwork. I’m so bad at figuring out what is important in, like… a legal sense. I don’t want to throw away something important because I didn’t realise what it was.”

“Good thing you brought a lawyer in training with you,” Kyle laughed, finishing off his croissant and joining her on the floor. He pulled the box full of paperwork towards him. “Is this all of it?”

“Thank you, that would be a huge help… That should be all of it,” She nodded, holding up a plastic tiara. With a shrug, she put it on. He tried to suppress his laughter but struggled to do so. “Something funny?”

“No, just cute-” He realised what he had said when it was already too late. He couldn’t figure out a way to backtrack without sounding like an asshole and saying that she was not cute, which would be a lie anyway. Fortunately for him, she didn’t say anything further about it, just smiled to herself while she continued to sort through items.

About halfway through the pile of documents, Kyle came across an envelope. He opened it, scanning over the letter it held within. He was curious as he read the first few paragraphs.

“Hey… What’s this?” He asked, holding it up so she could see. She looked over at it, tilting her head slightly, causing the tiara to fall off. The logo in the top left corner caught her eye, and bittersweet realisation flooded through her.

“Ah, that would be my hopes and dreams being crushed,” Y/N tried to laugh it off, but Kyle could quite easily see that she was holding back her sadness. “For a while, I really wanted to be a hospice care nurse. My nanna was in the hospital, and the family wasn’t allowed to visit her in her final moments. It broke everyone’s heart. My grandpa decided there and then that he wanted to die in hospice care, surrounded by family. I admired the nurses that cared for him, and I wanted to be like them one day. When I was 16, I found a programme where I could shadow a nurse for the summer, and my mom said that if I got accepted, I could go. Of course, I wasn’t accepted, so I was sent to dance camp for the summer instead.”

“But…” Kyle double-checked the letter to make sure he was reading it correctly. “Maybe I’m reading this wrong, but… It says here that you did get accepted.” He took a deep breath, reading the first line out loud, just to triple-check. “Dear Ms L/N, We’re pleased to inform you that your application for our summer programme has been reviewed and accepted.”

“No… No, that can’t be right… I saw the letter! I saw…” She paused, looking down at the floor as her mind started to race. “I didn’t. I didn’t see the letter. I was at school, she opened it first and told me when I got home. I never saw the letter. She told me what it said. She read it out to me. I didn’t see the letter.” She held out her hand, and Kyle instantly took the hint, passing the pieces of paper to her. He watched her face morph from confusion to sadness to pure rage as she read it. “Oh, that fucking-” 

Without any warning, she was on her feet in the blink of an eye. The letter was clutched in a vice-like grip in her hand as she stormed towards the door, throwing it open hard enough for it to hit the wall with a loud crash. Kyle frantically got up to follow her. In his head, he told himself he just wanted to make sure she didn’t do something she was about to regret. In reality, he was prepared to throw the first punch if things got physical.

Y/N stormed right to the kitchen where her mother had been for their entire stay. Her mom didn’t glance up at them; just let out an annoyed sigh as the two entered with thundering footsteps.

“What did I tell you about coming into the kitchen?” She gave in, looking up from where she was sitting at the table and closing her laptop in front of her. “You need to-”

“You told me I didn’t get in!” Y/N spat, slamming the papers down in front of her with such force that Kyle was worried she had broken her hand. The table shook from the impact. “You lied to me! You always lie to me!”

“Ugh, that,” Her mother rolled her eyes lazily, not at all concerned at her daughter's anger and hostile tone. She didn’t seem to care at all about the situation. There was no hint of any shame for her actions or sympathy for her daughter. “Look, so what if I lied? I was doing what was best for you. If anything, you should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you?” Kyle had never heard Y/N shout like that. It didn’t scare him, just concerned him. He wanted to calm her down, but for the sake of her own mental health rather as opposed to stopping her from saying what she needed to say, what she deserved to say. “You ruined my life! I could have been a nurse! I could have helped people! ”

“Ruined your life?” The lack of emotion in Y/N’s mother’s voice was something that chilled him to the bone. It was clear she had no regrets, no empathy, nothing. She was empty. “You ruined your own life when you skipped out on that audition because you were too busy partying.”

“I can’t believe you…” Y/N’s shoulders slumped, her head shaking as the information fully sunk in. “I could have-”

“Oh please, you know you would have never made it as a nurse,” She scoffed at her daughter. “You would have had to get good grades. You have to be smart and put together! Look at you; you’re a mess!”

“What is wrong with you?” Kyle couldn’t keep quiet any longer. He couldn’t just stand by and let someone talk about Y/N that way, let alone her own mother. “Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you? What gives you the right to talk to your daughter in that way?”

“Kyle…” Y/N’s eyes widened in a panic as she turned her head to face him. She wordlessly pleaded with him not to get involved, but that ship had long since sailed.

“Who do you think you are, coming into my house and-” Kyle wasn’t going to let her finish whatever bullshit she was about to spout.

“Who do you think you are, talking about Y/N like that?”

“I am her mother!”

“What you are is a piece of sh-” Kyle was cut off as Y/N grabbed him pulling him back. He hadn’t realised that he had moved closer to the older woman until that moment. She had stood up to square up to him, unwavering in her stubbornness.

“Kyle!” Y/N turned him so he faced her and away from her mother. His anger dissolved when he saw the concern in her eyes.

“I think you should leave now,” Y/N’s mother spat out her words. Y/N didn’t have to be told twice. With a grip on Kyle’s arm, she pulled him to her old room. Wordlessly, they picked up the remaining boxes and carried them to the car, haphazardly putting them in the backseat with no real care. They were lucky they all fit.

“Kyle, that-” Y/N spoke first as she sat down in the passenger seat, looking over at Kyle as he practically threw himself into the driver’s seat. He was clearly still angry but was desperately attempting to calm himself down.

“I’m so sorry for losing it back there. It just makes my blood boil!” Kyle huffed, trying and failing to suppress his anger. “She has no right to talk about you that way.”

“Kyle,” She said his name firmly, trying to get his attention.

“You are so incredible and talented, and if she can’t see that, then-” He continued.

“Kyle!” She tried again, louder.

“She- what?” He glanced over, confusion replacing his rage for just a split second.

“Thank you,” She was staring straight ahead. He couldn’t read the emotion in her voice. “No one has ever stood up for me like that.”

“Of course,” Kyle shook his head dismissively, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world for him to stand up for her because, to him, it was. She finally turned to look at him. He could see the tears that threatened to spill out at any second. “I care about you… A lot.” 

The sincerity in his voice, the meaning behind his words, and the look in his eyes seemed to snap something inside of Y/N. In a split second, she had climbed over the handbrake to straddle him, her back hitting the steering wheel and narrowly missing setting off the horn.

Before he could process the position they were in, her lips captured his in a heated kiss. Her hands cupped his jaw as her fingertips threaded through the hair at the base of his neck. It took him a moment to register what was happening, but just as he did, she pulled away. She pressed her forehead against his, breathing heavily.

“Shit… Sorry…” She sighed, closing her eyes. “I shouldn’t have-” Kyle cut her off by reaching up and pulling her face into another kiss, which she quickly melted into. He didn’t want her to apologise for doing something he should have done long ago. Her fingers tugged at the hair she had in her grip, pulling him impossibly closer to her. He couldn’t breathe, but that didn’t matter because she was kissing him. 

Her head tilted, deepening the kiss as much as she could before they had absolutely no choice but to break in order to breathe. Even then, she trailed small, open-mouthed kisses along his jawline and down to his neck. Kyle’s breath hitched when he felt her teeth graze his skin, and taking note of this, she did it again. He could do nothing to stop the small moan from slipping from his mouth. On his neck, he could feel the smug smile that had spread across Y/N’s lips as she heard the sound.

A second, much louder moan tumbled from his lips as she slowly rolled her hips against his. Followed by a third, then a fourth. His hands had to grab her hips in order to stop her from doing it again. He was embarrassed by how quickly he had gotten turned on by such small movements, and if she continued at that pace, he would have finished within the following 10 seconds.

“Kyle,” The way Y/N said his name in an almost breathless moan that went straight to his dick. He almost bucked his hips up and barely managed to refrain himself from doing so. “I want you.” He wanted her too. He wanted that more than anything, but the realisation of what was happening was hitting.

“Y/N, you have no idea how long I have wanted you…” He sighed, resting his forehead against hers.

“But?” She knew it was coming.

“But…” He moved to nuzzle his head against her neck, hoping it would help convey that he really did want what was happening to continue, but he couldn’t let it. “Emotions are too high right now. I don’t want… I want to do this right… With you…”

“You’re right,” She whispered, a heavy sigh causing her chest to rise and fall. He was ashamed that he couldn’t help but watch it. “Thank you… for everything.”

“Anything for you,” He meant those words with his entire soul. “Should we go home now?”

“Please.”

a/n - send me an ask if you would like to be on the taglist for this fic 💕

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[witchwyfe]

the ugly sweater party | kook friend group

I pairing: platonic kook friend group x female reader, platonic (non-canon) rafe cameron x reader, platonic topper thornton x reader, platonic kelce x reader

I précis: ugly christmas sweater party with your friends!

I word count: 1,125

I content + warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of food, cursing, mentions of being drunk, mentions of throwing up

On Figure 8, any holiday was an excuse for all the college kids to come home and throw parties. You’d been to ragers the night before Thanksgiving for God’s Sake. You love Christmas time. You and your friends always end up drinking too much eggnog at a party and regretting it the next morning. But your favorite is when someone throws an ugly sweater party. You and your best friends have gone every year since high school, and this year would be no different.

“Alright, no complaining okay? I don’t want a repeat of Halloween.”

“We didn’t give you that hard of a time.” Rafe whines, scowling.

“We didn’t, you did.” Kelce reminds him, nudging his side. 

“Shut up.”

“Anyway,” You cut off their bickering before it can fully start, glaring at the boys. “This year, I picked them out, and—”

“How is that any different, you pick them every year?”

“Because no one else ever offers to pick.” You narrow your eyes. “Remember two years ago when I let Rafe be in charge?” You wonder. 

“It wasn’t that—”

“You wrote merry x-mas on a white t-shirt in sharpie.” You cut him off. “That was so fucking stupid.”

“We didn’t even get top three for best sweater.” Kelce frowns, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Anyway,” You start again. “Imagine if I could speak without getting interrupted. I was going to say that Kelce and I picked them together.” Kelce smiles, moving off the couch so he can sit by you. 

You pull out two large bags, giggling slightly. “Oh-kay,” You say slowly. “Who wants to see?”

You and Kelce share a look, matching grins on your faces. You nod at Kelce, watching as he hands a folded sweater to Rafe and to Topper.

“Santa’s nice little boy?” Topper splutters—incredulous. You and Kelce burst into laughter, leaning against each other.

“Santa’s naughty little boy?” Rafe says, flipping the sweater around and holding it to his chest. 

“You guys can switch if you want,” You manage between laughs. “But Kelce and I thought those would suit you pretty well.”

“Are these baby clothes?” Topper wonders seriously. The writing on the white sweaters does in fact, emulate Christmas onesies that say things like—my first Christmas—Kelce went above and beyond finding the design your own sweater site.

“This sounds so wrong,” Rafe frowns, shaking his head. “That’s fucking messed up.”

Kelce is practically cackling now, laying on the carpet. 

“What do yours look like?” Topper wonders, glaring at you.

“Oh!” You giggle, nudging Kelce again. You pull two more white sweaters out, checking the tags before handing the correct one to Kelce.

You unfold them, unveiling the matching sweaters to Rafe and Topper. Yours says Merry in red cursive, Kelce’s says Christmas in green. 

“They go together!” You say, tone saccharine. “Just like yours do!”

“What the hell?” Rafe complains. “How is that fair?”

“Think of it as payback for the sharpie incident.” You grin, laughing evilly with Kelce. 

“You didn’t want to help pick them out.” Kelce points out. “And we asked. Many times.”

“What was it you said, Top?” You wonder, furrowing your eyebrows. “’I don’t care what they are, just pick them. I don’t have time for this shit.’”

Topper’s face reddens, the sweater falling limply in his lap. 

“We wanted to do those big sweaters, like the two-person ones, but a four person.” Kelce says. “But we decided not to, because we knew y’all would hate that.”

“That would have been hilarious, come on.” You grin, looking to Kelce who nods in agreement.

“Thank you?” Rafe says like it’s a question. “Don’t know if I should be saying thank you for something that alludes to me having an inappropriate relationship with santa.”

“Hey, you said it, not us.”

“Come on guys, we’re gonna be late!” You call up the stairs. The four of you decided to pregame at Topper’s house, since his parents were out of town. 

It ended up being much less of a pregame and much more of a listen to Rafe whine about the sweater he hadn’t even put on yet. You and Kelce had each taken a shot of peppermint schnapps though! In an attempt at Christmas spirit. 

You and Kelce went all out, deciding to match your whole outfits—ripped jeans and Converse—to pair with the sweaters. 

Finally, Rafe and Topper trudge down the stairs, Rafe quite literally dragging his feet, his footsteps reverberating on the staircase.

“Oh, look at that!” You coo exaggeratedly, placing a hand on your heart. “My boys, looking so cute!”

Topper gives you a dirty look, Rafe muttering curses under his breath. Kelce snickers at their obvious disdain, even more so when you share a look with him.

“I’m never forgiving you guys for this,” Rafe declares, looking between you and Kelce. “Just so you know.”

“Oh no,” Kelce feigns a pout. “____, he said he’s not gonna forgive us for this.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Rafe groans, effectively cutting off whatever snarky comment you were preparing to make.

“Okay, whatever, no more complaining.” You announce, giving pointed looks to Rafe and Topper. “You’re so grumpy, Rafe, we just need to get some eggnog in you,” You giggle, happy when a smile—albeit a small one—finally makes its way onto his face.

“Alright boys, get together so I can take a picture!” You giggle, whipping your phone out of your pocket. 

“Get closer together,” You scold. “Rafael, smile for God’s sake.”

“Please, enough with the mom photos, can we please go now?”

“Someone grab my hand, please!” You whine. “I can’t walk without a hand.”

Rafe sighs, holding his hand out for you to take. Topper has his arm around Kelce, trying to guide him to the car.

“____, come on sweetheart, we need to get you in the car.” Rafe says, tugging your arm gently. 

“Want a snack,” You whine again, leaning all of your body weight onto Rafe. “I’m so hungry.”

“If we get into the car, we can go and get something.” 

“By the way,” Kelce is slurring his words as he turns to face you and Rafe. “____ and I are picking the sweaters every year. First place in the ugly sweater competition, baby!” He cheers.

You squeal gleefully, pumping a fist in the air. 

Topper is mid-pushing Kelce into the car when he jerks away, bee-lining for a nearby bush. He’s emptying his stomach, bent over at the waist.

“Aw, Kelcey,” You coo, rushing over to him. Despite your intent to comfort him, the second you’re close enough, you’re throwing up as well. 

“Every fucking year.” Topper sighs, shaking his head.

“Merry Christmas.” Rafe laughs, rubbing your back.

© witchwyfe 2022. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.

#mine #my work #my writing #witchwyfe #witchwyfe writing #topper thornton imagine #topper thornton oneshot #topper thornton x reader #topper thornton x you #topper thornton fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #obx kelce imagine #obx kelce x reader #obx kelce oneshot #obx kelce x you #obx kelce fanfiction #obx kooks x reader #obx kook friend group drabble #obx kook friend group x reader #tw alcohol #tw throwing up

[jananakookie]

Rumor Has It | pjm - Chapter 6

💬 Pairing: Jimin x OC (Reader)

💬 Genre/Tags: enemies(?) to lovers, fake-dating au; angst, fluff, smut

💬 Chapter warnings: sex-talk but nothing too spicy, foul language, mentions of divorce, mentions of incompetent father figure (not important for the story or heavy in general but just so you know)

💬 Word count: 7.5k

💬 Recap:

Rumor has it, Park Jimin is single again after his latest girlfriend cheated on him with his best friend.

Rumor has it, he's willing to get back at them.

Rumor has it, you're the perfect means to an end.

A/N please consider reblogging and commenting if you enjoyed 💚

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Chapter 6: Not that different.

It's been several weeks since you met Jimin's parents, and neither you nor he talked about what happened at the bonfire after the two of you were left alone. You prefer it that way, and you don't see any benefit to it anyway, since it will never happen again - that much is clear. 

It was a drunken mistake from both of your ends. A mishap resulting from the fact that both of you were under pressure all day and let loose in the evening. A bit too loose, yes - and yet, it doesn't have to mean anything. 

Talking about it would only give it more meaning than it has. Nothing has changed. You still have a goal to achieve and you haven’t changed your opinion on Jimin either. He’s still the annoying prick that gives you a headache on a daily and nothing will change that.

Yes, casual sex wouldn’t necessarily mean that would have to change - you’re perfectly aware of that yourself. Many people have a non-strings-attached relationship with a person they don’t necessarily like outside the bedroom, and there is nothing wrong with that, of course. However, you cannot help but think about the talk you had with Jungkook a while ago. The one where he specifically told you to be aware and not get in too deep, and you feel like sleeping with Jimin would definitely count as getting in too deep - no pun intended. 

And why the hell does it feel like you're trying to convince yourself? All of this should go without question. You seriously feel like the biggest idiot for even considering this could ever be a possibility. Ew. 

Sure, it’s been such a long time since you had the company of other people, especially guys, but that's no excuse to have these thoughts about Jimin.

He’s handsome, and he kisses well. You’re too damn sexually frustrated to resist this temptation when you’re not master of your senses which means, you will have to stay sober from now on. 

No more alcohol in the presence of Park Jimin. That sounds doable. You can surely manage. You just hope it is also in his interest not to complicate your agreement and keep it as non-physical as possible.

“You’re unusually quiet today, is something wrong?” 

Your silent stare into space is interrupted by Jimin's voice, and you have to blink a few times until your eyes manage to focus on him. 

“Do you sometimes miss having sex?” you blurt out, immediately taking him off guard with it. It surprises you as well, but you blame it on the fact that he interrupted your intense flow of thoughts so abruptly.

You watch as his eyes widen for just a split second before they’re back to normal, weirdly mustering you while a grin slowly forms on his lips. 

“If there is one thing I'll never get used to, it's your loose mouth and your ability to say the most random shit at the most unfitting times,” he chuckles scratching the nape of his neck. If you didn't know any better, you'd almost say your question made him shy. “Uhm, may I know why you are suddenly asking me this?”

Pretty unbothered, you shrug your shoulders while picking a grape out of his fruit salad, gradually ignoring the glare he sends you right after since you now know he doesn’t actually mind you stealing them. 

“I’m just wondering. Hookups aren’t an option for you these days without revealing our secret, so… I figured you must be sexually frustrated at times, no?”

He devolves into a burst of throaty laughter, pushing the bowl with the fruit salad a little closer to you so you don't have to reach so far while keeping his eyes locked with yours. “I’m aright. I am not a caveman, nor am I a teenager, so I do have some self-control, you know?” He explains, leaning his face a bit closer before whispering, “and I still have a well-functioning hand.”

You automatically lean back into your seat with your face showing nothing but pure revulsion. “Disgusting, Park.”

“Hey, you were the one interested in my sex life,” he chuckles, holding his hands up in feigned surrender. 

“I just wanted to know if you sometimes feel frustrated. Not how you take care of it,” you declare, rolling your eyes while you try to hide a grin of your own.

“Same difference,” he shrugs, offering you a wink. “But going back to my original question - Why?” Resting his arms on his elbows, he rests his head on his clenched fist and smiles at you as if waiting for a bedtime story. 

The reason why you have avoided this question until now should be obvious, but you should have expected it. And it's not uncomfortable for you either - quite the opposite actually, since you’re only human, and stuff like that is nothing out of the ordinary. You just don't know exactly how to explain your curiosity to Jimin without giving him the wrong idea.

Munching on a couple more grapes, you muster him while pursing your lips. “I just had a guess,” you shrug, seeing Jimin furrow his eyebrows at you immediately as if offended, and you laugh. “I know what sexual frustration looks like, Park. I built this city. And I’ve been living here for a while now.” 

A deep laugh escapes Jimin’s lips while he shakes his head, but he halts for a quick moment as if to think about his next words before he clears his throat, making it clear that he’s gonna say it anyway.

“Wanna know what I like about you?” he asks in a serious tone, looking like he’s not only surprising you, but him as well with his bold words. 

You take a moment before you nod your head in an unsure manner. “Depends. Am I going to regret it?” 

“No, I’m being genuine, I promise,” he says, sending a small but honest smile your way as you nod again, silently telling him to continue. 

“You’re not afraid or embarrassed to be honest with me. That’s pretty cool,” he admits, becoming sheepish right after while he clears his throat. 

To be completely honest, you didn’t expect that but smile, shrugging your shoulders a little to shake the awkwardness off. “I mean, yea. I don’t know why it never feels awkward with you,” you agree, chuckling quietly. 

“Must be because I’m so amazing,” he winks, biting his lip. A couple weeks ago you would have gagged at this scene, but you know he doesn't really mean it.

“Or maybe I just don’t care what you think of me,” you return the wink, and grin brightly, feeling that you got the upper hand again.

He scoffs, shaking his head with a grin of his own. “So predictable.”

“Mhm… and does that tell you more about you or me?” You fire back, biting your lip to suppress your own smile. 

Jimin smiles at you for a while and you do the same. And it's just about to get awkward again when he shakes his head as if to try and remember what this conversation was actually about before you drifted off to… whatever this was. 

“So what exactly is the point of this conversation, ___? Would you like to offer me something?” He gradually bites his lip while grinning and wiggles his eyebrows, thinking exactly about what you did not want him to think, but it’s not a surprise. He's still Jimin.

“Not at all. As I said, I was just wondering,” you say, breaking eye contact with him and shaking your head slightly.

“Are you sure? I like to help where I can,” he smirks, seeing you scoff at his lame attempt at flirting.

“I’m not that desperate yet,” you chuckle, shaking your head immediately. 

“Funny you say that now because I have a feeling that’s not always true,” he mutters, while he lowers his gaze and concentrates on eating again. It seems like you shouldn't have heard that, and you almost wouldn't have if you weren't still waiting for an answer anyway. 

Whether there is a hidden meaning behind his words or not, you don’t find out because he soon after changes the topic when he starts asking you about an assignment he didn’t understand. 

Jimin left just a few minutes ago because he had to go to the bathroom but your concentration, which you actually wanted to direct to your paper, is already interrupted when you suddenly feel the presence of a person next to you.

“Back so soon? Don’t tell me you missed me already,” you grin as you finish the sentence you were already typing out. 

Your words get stuck in your throat, however, as you look up, and it's not Jimin who is looking down at you. Instead, it's Yeji, as in Jimin’s ex-girlfriend, who never even acknowledged your existence before this whole fiasco. 

But now she’s here, and she obviously wants something from you, considering there isn’t really anyone else close enough to be her person of interest right now. 

“Uhm, can I help you?” you look at her, unsure of what’s about to come. Seeing how you never exchanged a word with Lee Yeji before you have no idea what she could want from you. Well, you actually do have an idea because if there is anything connecting the two of you it has to be Jimin, no?

“Don’t worry. I’m not here to cause any trouble,” she quickly says probably sensing you’re in defense mode just from seeing her about to talk to you. “I just have one question for you.”

Furrowing your brows, you make a motion for her to continue, not expecting much in the first place but still interested enough to not just walk off. You don't offer her a seat, though. We do not wanna rush into anything now, do we?

“I know the opinions of the people here are very different, but I just can’t form one for myself. Are you really dating Jimin?”

You raise your brows, closing your laptop while you try to understand what's going on. She did not actually take it upon herself to come to you and ask you that question after everything that happened, did she?

 “You know what’s funny?” you ask her, looking her straight in the eyes. “You guys have no problem spreading and believing the most absurd lies about me. But the moment I actually am involved with someone, you refuse to believe it? Make it make sense, please,” you scoff, already grabbing your laptop and standing up from your seating position. 

“It wasn’t me who said you were the one in the picture,” she says, eyes firmly kept on yours. “Taehyung said that, not me.” She rushes the words as if to try and keep you longer. For what reason? You have no idea. Probably to get some well-needed information.

“Oh? So what did you do to try and tell everyone the truth?” You ask, raising a brow even though you already know the answer. 

It's almost comical how quickly she throws her lover under the bus just to appease you and get some information. But what can you expect from people like them?

Yeji doesn’t say anything to that, and for the first time, her gaze leaves yours, even if it’s just for a split second until her eyes are back on yours. 

“Well, if it really is true, then just look out for yourself. I’m not saying he has an ulterior motive, but… he moved on pretty fast.” She has the guts to almost look offended when she says that. As if him moving on is what went wrong between them. 

“Thank you for trying to look out for me, but I’ll be fine,” you sarcastically say although you feel as if it didn’t quite reach her as such. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not trying to be a bitch, ___. I’m here because I felt sorry about what happened and wanted to make sure there’s no bad blood between us. I’m not a bad person. I’m really not. I’m sure there are lots of people who wouldn’t agree with me and you’re probably one of them, but just know that I do feel bad about what went down. I would have liked things to happen differently, but… honestly, I can’t change the past. I just hope we can move on from this someday.” 

You glance up at Yeji with your mouth agape, trying to suppress a genuine laugh. That must have been the most half-hearted apology you've ever received, and the bored look on her face almost does the rest.

Fortunately for her, you learned a long time ago to see the humor in almost everything, so you don't even hold it against her. Rolling your lips inwardly, you nod your head, making her sigh out in what you interpret as relief. 

It's not like you're going to forgive her for what she did, nor will you forget about it. But you don’t see the sense in starting an argument either, and if you’re honest, all you want is for this awkward encounter to end as soon as possible. 

To your luck, Yeji leaves soon after, obviously not very keen on talking to you either. And to your amusement, she’s quickly replaced by Jimin, who suddenly pops up next to you, panting heavily as he looks in the direction Yeji just left in. 

“Wow, did you run here?”

“What did she want?” He asks, deciding to ignore your question while still glaring at the table where his ex-girlfriend went to. 

“Who, Yeji? I’m not too sure. It was an experience I could have gladly missed out on,” you shrug, not really wanting to go into detail since you have no idea what that was either. “But you can relax, she was asking about us, so maybe your plan is finally bearing fruit, and she’s starting to get jealous.” 

Jimin groans quietly, rolling his eyes before looking at you. “How many more times, ___. I’m not trying to win her back.” 

You’re just about to argue, when your phone starts beeping, signaling you got a new message. Briefly distracted from the actual topic, you take a look at who messaged you and curse under your breath as you hurriedly pack your things together. 

Jimin, who was originally just waiting for you to give him attention again, quickly starts to help you put your things in your bag, sensing that whoever just texted you must be more important to you now. 

“What’s up?”

“Ugh, it’s my mom. I completely forgot she was coming over today,” you hurriedly answer with a deep scowl while not even looking at him as you walk away with fast steps, knowing he’ll follow you anyway. 

“Are you not happy to see her?” 

“I am. It’s just that every time she comes over, she’s asking to meet ‘my friends’ and it usually ends with me making up some big ass lie that makes me feel awful as soon as she’s on her way back home.”

“So she doesn’t know about… you know?”

“My situation?” you ask, briefly looking at him before you turn your gaze forward again in fear you might run into something or someone. “Of course not. And I’m not planning on ever letting her know. She has enough on her plate. I don’t need her to worry about me. I’m an adult, after all. I’ll be alright.”

Jimin only nods, completely understanding your decision not to confide in her, even if it makes him uneasy to know that you probably never had anyone to confide in and talk to about your problems. He remembers too well how uncomfortable it was to tell his family about Yeji and Taehyung, especially when he saw how much it upset them out of concern for him, but it still helped him a lot to talk about it. Knowing that you didn't and couldn't do that for years really makes his insides churn for some reason. 

You should not have to go through something like this. Especially not alone.

“So, what are your plans for today then?” He would like to disagree and tell you that your mother would understand, but Jimin knows you well enough to know when to keep his mouth shut. Not to forget that it is none of his business anyway.

“I’ll just take her to the café near my apartment. We usually go there when she comes to visit me,” you explain, finally letting a small smile appear on your lips. “And then, I’ll just hope she doesn’t try to dig too deep today and accepts my lame excuse about my friends being busy one more time.”

An idea of how he can help you suddenly comes to Jimin's mind, but he decides to not let you in on it for now. Instead, he only accompanies you to your apartment door as usual and immediately disappears on your demand. 

And while you try to fix up your apartment as best you can until your mother finally arrives, Jimin is on his way to save your day.

You must look like an idiot. 

You really must look like an idiot right now with your mouth hanging wide open, your mother happily chattering about whatever the hell you were talking about before you caught sight of a familiar blond mop of hair, neatly gelled back.

Not that you did it on purpose, but the moment you thought you saw Jimin outside the window of the café where you're currently sitting with your mother, you completely blanked her out.

But despite the rain, there are so many people out and about today that the blond mop, which seemed to be familiar, has disappeared somewhere in the mass of people and can no longer be located by you.

With a frown, you shake your head in an attempt to direct your thoughts back to what is actually important. Jimin would tease you for weeks if he knew he had taken over your thoughts enough that you would confuse him with some rando on the streets. Without a doubt, making it sound like you cannot stop thinking about him or some shit like that.

As if. 

“—Lately we have hardly been in touch. I've almost forgotten what you look like, honey.” The condemning, yet partly joking tone in your mother's voice draws your attention back to her for a brief moment as you sigh. 

“I told you, mom. There’s just a lot going on these days. I hardly find the time to do anything.” 

“It’s fine,” she says, sending you a warm smile. “I just worry about you. Please don’t overwork yourself too much. You are too old now for me to remind you to eat regularly and healthily.”

Apathetic, you poke around in your cheesecake while you hum a response. “Been doing stuff with friends for the most part. We’re going out to eat a lot, don’t worry.” 

Technically that’s not a lie. Since you've been spending time with Jimin, you have been eating healthier and more balanced meals than ever before. And you would say that's probably one of the reasons you've kept up this charade for so long. 

The instant noodle days are not yet missed by you. 

And even if you don't like to admit it, lunch with Jimin and Hyunjin often involves a lot of laughter and fun. Sometimes there are a few other friends of Jimin's, often it's just the three of you, and lately, Jimin and you have managed to persuade even Nayeon to join your little group. 

In those moments it sometimes even feels like you really belong, and it almost makes you dread the doom day when your fake relationship with Jimin is over, and you're going to be back to being alone. 

Being alone never was that big of a deal for you. Yeah, it did get lonely at times, but with time you got used to it. Getting used to the company of others again, however, went a lot faster. It certainly won't be easy to master the art of being on your own again after all this time.

She literally beams all over her face at your words and it makes the guilt almost unbearable. “I’m glad to hear that! It’s such a shame your friends couldn’t make it.”

You swallow thickly, lowering your gaze back onto your half-eaten cheesecake. Your appetite is completely gone now. Literally, all this woman wants is for you to be happy and live a normal life, and you can’t even do that? A woman in her twenties, making up friends to tell her mother about. How fucking pathetic. 

“Nevertheless, I would be very happy if you would call or send a message at least once in a while. Let's say once a week, so I know that you are still alive,” your mom grins, making a smile crack on your lips as well. 

“Mom, please. It’s not like I never—”

“I’m afraid that might be my fault.” A voice suddenly cuts through yours, making your words stuck in your throat. Turning your head, you see Jimin standing in front of your table, kindly smiling down at your mother. “I just take up all of her time these days,” he chuckles, smiling brightly as his gaze drifts from your mother to you. “I tried to come as soon as possible. I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it sooner.”

You feel yourself shrink in your seat as you sense your mother’s eyes burn through your skull, but you’re unable to take your eyes off of him. You’re too stunned to say or do anything at the moment. What is he doing?!

He cleans up nicely, looking as smug and expensive as always, even if he undoubtedly walked through the rain to get here. In his left hand, he’s holding a big, bright-colored bouquet while his right hand is already shaking your mother’s. 

You see how their mouths move, and they talk to each other. Your mother laughs, Jimin grins, he hands her the flowers, she gestures with her arm while saying something to him, and the next moment you see him sit down next to you. You see all of this happening but don't really hear a word they're saying. 

You are much too busy to realize that this is really happening. Jimin is really here. 

His gaze travels over you in a way that makes you gulp and causes you to shiver involuntarily so you take a deep breath, finally getting out of your trance as you sense they’re both waiting for you to say something. 

No doubt you immediately recognize this excited glimmer in your mom's eyes and watch as she expectingly raises her eyebrows, wordlessly telling you to introduce him too. 

You clear your throat and slide a few centimeters further to the window to try and put some distance between you and Jimin because as usual he doesn't understand the concept of personal space.

Honestly, he might as well have sat on your lap…

“Uhm Mom, this is Jimin. My friend—”

“Boyfriend.” 

In a fraction of a second, you turn your head to him, not believing what he just said. He doesn’t react, doesn’t even look at you. Instead, he puts his arm around your shoulders and pushes you closer against him while rubbing your arm.

You clench your fists under the table, hoping that your mother doesn’t notice, and suck your bottom lip into your mouth before you turn your gaze to at her again to see her reaction.

It is no surprise that she almost bursts with joy from the unexpected news seeing how she inconspicuously has been trying to find out something about your love life for ages — without any success, of course. So it was probably to be expected that she would react like this.

“A boyfriend, ___? Why didn't I know about this?” 

She doesn’t sound disappointed in the slightest. If anything, she uses more of a teasing tone with you, making it even more awkward. 

“This has not been going on for long, mom. I just didn't get to tell you about it yet,” you lie, once again poking around in your cheesecake. “It’s not like it’s that important.”

Your mom gasps, frowning at you with a displeased, judgmental look in her eyes, and you know if you were alone with her right now, you would meet the slipper. “You little— How can you say that. Of course your boyfriend is important!”

You can hear Jimin snicker beside you, and you would love to shut him up, but you don't want to make it even worse with your mother.

The two of them happily engage in a conversation, completely ignoring your presence while your mother asks him question after question, wanting to know everything about him and seemingly being more than smitten with him already.

It’s understandable, really. You can’t blame her. Jimin really is charismatic. He answers every question with ease, not once stuttering or stumbling over his words like you found yourself doing while conversing with his family. 

He is friendly, polite, extremely handsome, and well-spoken, and it worries you how comfortable and familiar your mother already seems with him. The little shit even brought her flowers! 

This is exactly what you feared and what was the reason that you didn’t want her to find out about this. You know your mother and you know that she will not let this go which only means you have to lie to her again and again.

As if your conscience was not already burdened enough.

The moment your mother excuses herself and leaves to use the restroom, you finally crumble, ready to yell at him but before you can muster a word, he beats you to it.  

“This is going pretty well, don’t you think?” With a bright, content grin on his face, he leans back in his seat. 

The moment he lifts his arm and wraps it around your shoulders again, you snap. Grabbing his arm, you immediately push him off with force before you bark at him. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

Jimin is visibly surprised by your sudden outburst, and he takes a couple of moments before he clears his throat and runs his fingers through his hair, a slight frown now visible between his eyes. 

“I’m… having a nice little chat with your mother,” he states in a calm voice, obviously not seeing anything wrong with what he’s doing. “She’s nice. I think she likes me too,” he adds, raising his brows in question when your only response is a loud, annoyed groan before you lean your elbows on the table and slap your hands over your face.

“No no no no no…” you silently chant to yourself, your voice coming out muffled. “This is bad. This is so bad.”

“What is?“ Jimin asks, sounding unbothered as if to silently tell you that you're overreacting. 

You face him again, and for a split moment, you seriously consider smacking the back of his head. “My mom likes you, Jimin! She really likes you,” you sigh. 

“So?” He scoffs. “Of course she does. I’m amazing. I thought you’d be happy about that. I mean… isn’t that what normal people want? For their parents to like their boyfriend?”

“But that’s the thing, Jimin!” you groan, gaping at him with your eyes opened wide. “You are not my boyfriend. And when we ‘break up‘, she’ll be sad about that now,” you explain, annoyed that you even have to do that. “Even worse, she'll want me to pour my heart out to her or something!”

Jimin stays silent, pressing his lips together while he draws his eyebrows together in a slight frown. “Why do you always have to do that?”

“Do what?” 

“Worry about things, that haven’t even happened yet. You always do that. Why can’t you just enjoy things as they are from time to time?”

“What do you even mean? There isn’t anything to enjoy. This is an act, you remember? And it will end soon, and then—”

“See? You’re doing it again. You’re so uptight. Just let loose for once and live a little.”

“Excuse me?” you scoff, feeling offended.

“What? It’s true. I can offer you a jacket when you forgot yours and you’d be like ‘don’t do that Jimin, we aren’t actually dating’, or I could pay for food when we’re alone and you’d say ‘stop it Jimin, you’re not actually my boyfriend’, and now I can’t even be liked by your mom without you complaining about her being sad when we eventually break up. It’s annoying. Your mantra is making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“Well, what else do you want me to say? I’m just trying to do the job and stay focused. Stay rational. As we both agreed from the start. I didn’t want my mom to find out about us. That was not part of the deal. Not to forget that it was not necessary for her to ever find out about this in the first place!” Even though you are already boiling with rage, you try to be as discreet as possible and not raise your voice. But it’s hard. It’s so hard right now. 

“I even told you that I did not want my mother to know about it. Several times,” you hiss, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“I know,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But I just wanted to help. You were complaining about her asking about your friends and stuff earlier, and I thought—”

“You thought just showing up here and pretending to be my boyfriend would magically make it better?” You scoff. “All you have achieved is that you have only made things worse. For you it seems to be the easiest thing in the world to lie to your family, you don't even bat an eye when you do it, but I'm not like that. This fucking sucks, Jimin.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest and stubbornly look out the window without exchanging another word with him. 

It may be childish behavior, but you don't feel like talking to him anymore. Fortunately, he seems to feel the same way, because he also doesn't say a word to you. And so it comes that you both keep silent until your mother comes back from the restroom and directly joyfully continues her previous conversation with Jimin in which he immediately engages without letting on anything.  

And even if your mother doesn’t seem to notice anything, you sure do. Because it is obvious that your words have not left him untouched. 

Hours passed, your Mom has left, and you’re seriously happy you somehow survived the day without any major problems occurring. She bought your little lie and was more than happy to spend the day with not just you, but Jimin as well and it’s eating at you.

It makes you shoot daggers from your eyes into the bathroom door behind which Jimin is just now, a shallow beam of light shooting out from under the door, the only recognizable sign that there is anyone else in the apartment besides you.

To be honest, you’re quite surprised he’s still here. Your mother left fairly late, seeing how she was too engrossed in getting to know your boyfriend and swooning over him. You internally cringe just thinking about it. 

It’s going to be so embarrassing having to explain to her why she won’t ever meet him again. Even if you were able to push it to the back of your mind for the past couple of hours for your Mom's sake, you’re still mad at Jimin for pulling that stunt out of the blue earlier. 

This boy just never stops complicating things for you, and you don’t get why he does the things that he does. 

“So, it’s just you and your mom?” Jimin asks, which is the first thing he does as soon as he comes out of the bathroom and joins you in the kitchen.

You nod, not turning your attention from washing the dishes. Jimin wordlessly grabs a towel to dry up and help you finish sooner. 

“My parents divorced when I was still very young. Haven’t really seen my Dad ever since, but we were never that close anyway, so it’s whatever. I always had a much stronger bond with my mother.”

Jimin hums, thinking for a moment before he speaks again. “Do you miss him sometimes?”

You shrug, taking a brief moment to answer, and Jimin studies the way your brows draw together while you seem deep in thought. He’s afraid he asked too much, scared of being too nosey, but to his relief, you shake your head soon after with your lips forming a small pout. 

“Can’t say that I do,” you say, once again looking at him for just a blink of an eye before turning back to work. “As I said, we were never that close. I barely have any memories of him doing... well, anything with me really. It was always my mom who did the most work which is also why they ended up getting a divorce. He was never much of a father figure anyway.”

“Sounds like you aren’t upset about it,” he wonders, a little surprised by your nonchalant tone. 

You laugh shortly, but to Jimin, it seems genuine, which confuses him even more. Shouldn’t you be hurt or angry? Last time he checked, most people didn’t like their fathers leaving them without a trace. 

“What do you want me to do? Cry about it? Should I curse and insult him?” You joke.

“No, but… don’t you care?”

“I was nine when they split, Jimin,” you explain in a calm, very collected voice with a face showing no trace of any foul emotion. “I had plenty of time to be angry about it when I was younger, but now? I think I can understand him. He wasn’t happy with his life, so he left. Stuff like that happens all the time, and there’s nothing we can do about it. My mom and I managed just fine on our own. Trust me, It’s easier to live your life without someone who doesn’t really want to be in it in the first place. I barely ever saw him after he left, but he made sure to support us financially and he still sends me a card every year on my birthday. Was he a good dad? Hell no, but he did what he could, I guess. Not everyone’s cut out to be a parent.”

Jimin doesn’t say anything after that for a long time. It makes you wonder if you said something wrong.

You didn’t. Jimin just doesn’t really know what to say. You clearly have made your peace with the situation so there isn’t really anything for him to say against it. 

“I guess it probably drew you and your mom even closer,” he suddenly speaks up again. “It’s obvious you guys share a tight bond.”

“We do, and I’m very happy it’s like that,” you smile, not really looking at him as you put away the cups and plates, Jimin has already dried. 

“I’m sorry I made you lie to her,” his voice suddenly appears behind you, sounding a lot smaller and quieter than it usually does. 

You turn around to face him, mustering the look on his face. “Yea, I’m not gonna lie, that really bugs me. Although I’ve kinda been lying to her for the past couple of years now when it comes to me and any social contacts so… I guess it’s not that big of a deal.”

Jimin knows you’re not happy with him right now. Not that you ever are, but this time he really feels bad about it, knowing how uncomfortable you must have felt the whole day. He knows how bad it feels to lie to your family about this kind of thing, but at least he made the decision himself. You didn’t have that luxury, and it’s his fault. It’s not that he meant for you to feel this way, he just didn’t think things through - again. 

“That wasn’t my intention. I honestly just wanted to help but ended up making it worse for you. I’m sorry. Didn’t really think about the consequences,” he apologizes, looking a little embarrassed.

You loudly exhale through your nose, jokingly rolling your eyes at him. “How about you stop trying to help or do things for me?” You suggest, grinning at him slightly. “’Cause honestly, you’re pretty shit at it.”

Jimin purses his lips while slightly nodding his head in agreement. “I might consider it. Can’t really disagree with you here.”

You snort out a laugh and smack him with the towel which makes him laugh as well while he tries to avoid getting hit a second time - without much success. 

“Why did you lie to me that time at my parents’?” Jimin asks, making your head shoot up as soon as he finishes, making it clear you immediately know what he’s talking about even without him having to go into detail. 

You gulp, lowering your head again because looking at him would add another layer of awkwardness right now, and you don’t need that. 

“Yes, I noticed. No, it was not hard to tell you were lying. Not at all,” he adds after a while of you not giving him an answer. 

“It’s not like it would have changed anything,” you scoff. “I was just drunk. Saying and doing things I didn’t mean. And so were you. It didn’t mean anything, so why talk about it?”

Jimin doesn’t instantly say anything to that but he’s watching you intently before shaking his head as he sends an arrogant smirk your way. “You sure about that? Because it didn’t really seem that way when you were—”

“Alright, we get it!“ You interrupt him, knowing exactly what he’s going to say. Turning your back on him, you ignore his mocking laughter. 

“No, but seriously, why are you always so keen on not crossing any boundaries? I understand that our situation is a bit… unusual, and it’s not like I’m asking you to have sex with me, but we can be friends. There is nothing to say against getting along well with each other.” 

Jimin halts for a moment to see if you’re going to contradict, but when he sees no reaction whatsoever on your face, he continues with a sigh. 

“I like teasing you because it’s fun, and you look like a puffer fish when you’re about to snap at me which is a bit cute— however, that doesn’t mean that I don’t like you or that you constantly have to be on edge with me. I’m really trying here. Why can’t I be friendly without you immediately going for my neck?”

Having your arms crossed over your chest, you roll your eyes when he finishes his little speech. “Want to send a little prayer, or are you done?” 

Jimin scoffs at your incapability of being serious, but you think you can see him trying to hide a little smile as he leans against your kitchen counter and sends a defeated look your way. 

“You’re a bit much sometimes, Jimin.” You tell him, being as honest as you can. “Ever since we got into this fake relationship thing, you've been around me constantly. And that can be pretty overwhelming at times.”

“Why? Are you scared you could catch feelings for me?” He smirks, wiggling his brows, obviously back in joking mode, whereas you gulp and shrug your shoulders as your eyes drift from him to the floor.

“Maybe.” It comes out in a small voice, but Jimin still hears you clearly, and it wipes the grin off his face almost instantly.

“Oh.”

“It’s not what you think, Park,” you quickly add, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. “Please don’t get ahead of yourself,” you then scoff, rolling your eyes when his expression tells you he already did have the wrong idea. “At this point, even if I tried to deny it, I just have to accept that I obviously am very desperate, okay?” 

Jimin is frowning now, eyebrows knitted together as he inspects your face.

“Yesterday while shopping, a stranger held the door open for me, and I got flustered and giggled while thanking him. I giggled, Park! I got flustered because a stranger did not slam the door in my face! What is happening to me?”

Jimin doesn’t answer as he bursts into laughter, very visibly amused by your distress, whereas you start to pout, seeing how he doesn’t take you seriously at all. 

“I’m not joking,” you mutter, feeling your ears getting hot. Granted, it does sound pathetic and a little dramatic, you can admit that. But it doesn't change the fact that it is a true story after all. 

“In any case, it's important to me that we maintain a certain distance. When all this is over, we’ll just go back to being strangers anyway,” you shrug, getting back to work and putting some of the dishes back into the cupboards.

Jimin’s laughter has died down. Your words were pretty harsh and Jimin knows you didn't mean it sarcastically either. Even though your way of being straightforward and always honest with him is something he really admires and likes about you since it’s refreshing, it can be just as hurtful sometimes. 

He knows that you don't do it on purpose because you want to hurt him but because it's your way. It honestly took some getting used to on his part, but he thinks he can manage by now. 

And still, when you say stuff like that and then act as if nothing happened, it pisses him off. 

“You were wrong by the way,” his voice suddenly interrupts the silence you were about to enjoy, and you turn back around to face him again, not quite knowing what he means.

“I don’t enjoy lying to my family. And it’s not easy for me either.”

His voice is calm and collected, and his eyes do not stray from you which allows you to see the disenchantment in them again, just like you did earlier. You’re struck with a pang of guilt when you notice it, feeling bad about never being able to shut your damn mouth, especially in the heat of a moment.

You didn’t mean it like that when you accused him of that. It was just the frustration and anger getting the best of you, and you regretted your words as soon as they left your lips. There is no doubt that he loves and respects his family very much, and you should not have said something like that. Especially since you aren't any better. You have been lying to your mother for years, inventing friends and stories that don't exist only because you’re ashamed to tell her who you actually are.

“I know. I didn’t have the right to say that to you. Not in my position,” you scoff at your own stupidity and shake your head as you feel a headache coming up. 

“Well, you have every right to be mad at me. We did talk about our families before, and you told me more than once that you wouldn’t want her to find out, so yea… that’s completely on me again. I can see how that would make you mad.”

You purse your lips and muster him slightly. “See? This is literal proof that you are in fact, able to have clear thoughts so why don’t you ever decide to think before you act?” You then ask, smirking a little. 

After that, the atmosphere between you starts to be a little lighter again, and it is very much appreciated by both of you. 

Without any more words, he quickly helps you put away the rest of the washed dishes and then announces that he is slowly making his way home.

“Your mom is very nice by the way, and she cares about you a lot,” he says while putting his jacket on while on his way to your door. “She would understand. I’m about 99% sure she wouldn’t judge or blame you.”

You of course know what he’s digging at, but there is one thing you don’t quite understand. 

“Who said anything about her judging me?”

Jimin offers you a kind smile while his hand already goes for the knob on your front door to open it. 

“We’re not that different, you know, babygirl?” 

And with a last obnoxious wink, he walks out, wishing you a good night without actually turning around to look at you again. 

You keep standing there a little dumbfounded for a while, looking after him until he’s gone around a corner and you can’t see him anymore before you frown and scoff, closing your door. 

“We are very much different, Park Jimin.”

tagged: @ggukkieland | @ttaeby | @rkvi | @cuteipat | @pjiminslove | @mawwnsterr | @aamalaaa | @spideyxxboi | @lil-sracha | @katsbqbe | @bex-92br | @natalie-rdr | @canarystwin | @wespers-jaan | @bangtanxcoffee | @bri-mal | @so-kou | @lonleycoffee | @rjsmochii | @kiwiaroha | @chimchimmarie | @scoupshawt | @xmochiloverx | @kristinkristinuk | @thejiminshieffect | @yes-fangirl-things

#jimin au #jimin fake dating au #jimin enemies to lovers #jimin angst #park jimin #jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin fanfic #bts jimin #jimin scenarios #jimin x reader #jimin imagine

[kanmom51]

JK 3D TikTok with Mingyu

JK uploaded the new challenge after his live last night.

And we have Wonwoo telling us he's been their wingman - well cameraman, lol, for all their challenges.

Clearly they are good friends. JK and Mingyu. And with that, when a Mingyu comment about his haircut came up during the JK kind of shut that one down. Oh, and we know why now, don't we? People are just weird with "JK breaths next to someone so they must be fucking". And JK's answer was, not in these words, but the gist of it, "really? I have no idea. I should meet up with him. I don't see him all the time and most definitley don't fuck him." (JK most definitely did not say that, lol, those are my words)

But now seriously for one sec.

After their cute short live people were being so damn stupid, and continue to be. Then it was JK and Mingyu. And we know what came after 3D was released. This idea people have in their head about him. He's a hunk and a half. He's tattooed. Has piercings. Smokes. Drinks alcohol, like a lot. So he must be fucking around too, right? Because that's a given.

Get real.

Not going to rant anymore. Just this. Mingyu is JK's friend. A very good friend. One of the 97 liners. Eunwoo is as well. And they hang out and drink and eat and spend time together. With other 97 liners as well. They literally spent a couple of days in Busan together. Friends. Enjoy each other's company. They are all idols, all know the life, the struggles, and they are people he can spend time with outside of the group. Same age friends.

Why is there not an inkling of doubt about Tae's friendship with the Woogas, friendship, nothing else? Those men sleep together in one bed when together on occasions. But every single person that happens to breath next to JK, JK is fucking? Man or woman. Is he not allowed to have friends? Good ones. Those he likes to spend time with. With his bf there too, or without him being there.

People are just weird.

Anyway, we have JK CK head to toe?

And the GCF tag again.

Before I'm off.

I watched the live last night.

Some interesting things happened, and I have things to say. But I am going to wait patiently for the official translation for my post, given JK had a moment during the live. Said some things that I do feel I need to see the full translation to understand or figure out their meaning.

And yes, he chose to read out the Jeon Jimin comment again. And yes, that part was not translated. I heard it straight away, he repeated it twice. But no translation, lol. Anyway, I will probably repeat this in my post, but I don't think with him it's about how it's conceived here in the West, you know, the taking of your spouse's name. It was about putting both their names together. A little like Jikook or Minkook or Kookmin.

Anyways, will wait for the full translation. But I do believe that's how he sees it, and that's also why he's unbothered by it or why it brings a smile to his face. Anything that connects them, you know...

Golden promotion schedule was also posted overnight. Will talk about that separately, of course.

💜💜

#Jungkook #JK #JK TikTok #JK 3D

[toxicanonymity]

You Should Give In

4.5k | Corey Cunningham x Fem!Reader | NSFW

“You’re sorry you didn’t recognize me?” He smiles disturbingly.  His voice gives you butterflies between your legs and takes you right back to that motel room two years ago.  His throat bobs as he takes another sip from the tiny-looking bottle.   “And I’m sorry I didn’t text you back," you add. 

You accidentally break Corey's heart pre-Michael. After his killing spree, he comes back. Smut with both Coreys.

Amazing art by @cordelium 💚💚 commission info

corey tags: @ethanhoewke @wolvesandvampires @rebel-blue @kuromi2005. thx @dark-scape

cw: alcohol, dub-con, kinda darkish?

December 2020 

After his manslaughter trial, Corey took a bus out of Haddonfield one weekend to get away from it all, and he ended up where you live.  It's barely a scattering of a town, but it has a truck stop and a bus stop, so it gets enough traffic to have a motel and bar, which are in the same parking lot.  You work at the bar. 

The night you met, he was already at the bar when you clocked in.  The first thing you noticed was his enormous hand dwarfing his drink, making it look like an airplane bottle.  There was something so hot about his knuckles and the way he held the bottle.  He caught you looking and smiled shyly.  That's when you started noticing his beautiful face.  His strong nose.  The pain behind his glasses.  There was an intensity about him, too. All his gloom and cowering. 

Corey didn't really drink much of his beer.  He mostly played with the label.  You offered to get him something else, and he asked for chocolate milk.  You thought he was joking, but when you giggled, he looked at you earnestly with big dairy cow eyes magnified by his glasses.  Your heart melted.  When you said you didn't have any chocolate milk, he was dejected. "Yeah, I figured."   

When you saw that sad look in his eyes, you suddenly recognized him.  He was much hotter and bigger in person than he was on the news.  Face to face with him, there was no doubt in your mind that Jeremy's death was an accident.  You felt awful for Corey. You just wanted to give him a hug.  You took him under your wing. 

You offered to make him a mudslide on the house instead of chocolate milk. You promised he'd like it.  You made it with extra chocolate syrup, and he loved it.  He perked up.  It was a slow night, so you chatted with him.  Got to know him a little bit.  You egged him on to take an oatmeal cookie shot with you, not realizing he was a total lightweight.  It really didn't take more than that before he was giggling and slurring, flirting with you one minute, then getting emotional the next.  He never talked about the accident, but he talked about his home life and it didn't sound good.  He played early Modest Mouse on the jukebox.  You didn't let him leave your sight.   His drunkenness was your doing, after all. 

-

He had a room at the motel.  When you got off work, you walked him back there to make sure he was safe.  He invited you in, and you thought you'd stay just long enough to let him get settled.   He didn't ask in a seductive way.  It was somewhere between lonely and friendly.  You were enjoying his company, anyway.   But when he started removing his multiple layers of clothing and you saw what was underneath, there was no going back for you.  Holy shit, he was solid. He took off his henley, revealing thick arms and strong pecs.    And he kept stripping, too.  No inhibitions.  

While you were quietly distracted by his body, his mood darkened a little.  He laid down on the bed and said he never wanted to go back home.  His lip was quivering.  By that point, he was in just his briefs and glasses, with a plaid blanket he brought from home draped haphazardly across half his body.  You told him you understood and offered to make him lunch at the bar the next day if he wanted to talk more about it.   He asked you not to leave.  

You put Ghost Adventurers quietly on the TV and laid on the bed with him. There was something pathetic about him being in underwear and glasses and you being fully dressed.  So when spread out his blanket and invited you under it,  you took off your pants first.  Then, you cozied up to him and stroked his hair comfortingly as he nuzzled into the hollow of your neck.    

He looked at you affectionately and you kissed him on the head.  Then, he lifted his head and looked at you longingly, and you kissed him on the mouth.  You held him and kissed him, and he kissed you, as you half-watched the show.  Soon enough, you were kissing more than watching.  You abandoned the show completely as you made out and things heated up.  He kissed you like you were an oasis in the desert. You probably were. 

You nestled a leg between his meaty thighs and palmed his chest.  His body took your breath away.  A hardness in his briefs started poking your thigh.  By the time you grabbed his cock, he was rock hard and whimpering for you.  The moment you held his naked girth in your hand, you gasped softly as butterflies swarmed in your chest and core.  You badly, badly needed him.  

“I want to be with you,” he whispered. “I want you so bad.”  He moaned and whimpered as you moved the skin on his thick shaft.  

You couldn't think it through.  You couldn't think at all.  All your blood had rushed somewhere else. 

Corey fumbled at your bra.  There was something on his face, like he could hardly believe it was happening.  He struck you as almost virginal.  You took the lead and put a condom on him, then mounted him.  He let out a low, breathy groan as you sank onto his impressive cock with a moan of your own.  It felt so right, filling yourself with his cock.  It was the perfect stretch.  You rode him and his hips lifted into you desperately.  You leaned into him for friction as you rolled into him.  His massive hands held your thighs and he'd say things in his low, sexy voice like "You feel so good" and "God, you're beautiful." 

He came pretty fast, but you were close.  You finished yourself off and he was eager to help and learn.  You fell asleep in bed with him.  

-

You woke up before dawn with Corey spooning you, his arms holding you tight, both of you nude.   His morning wood was upright and dug into your lower back and crack until you gently shifted it between your thighs.  He rutted against your slick seam in his sleep.  Before long, you were desperate for a second round.  You put his huge hand on your hard nipple and traced the veins from his wrist to his fingers.  

You were too desperate to be smart, but at least you were on the pill.  As soon as he stirred awake and kissed your neck, you reached down between your legs and guided his cock just inside you.  The moan that erupted from his mouth set you on fire.  Your whole body felt like it could burst at any moment.  He buried himself inside you, holding your breast, breathing heavily in your ear.  He kissed your neck, moaning, sighing, rolling his hips, filling you with his thick, hard cock, lasting longer this time.  As soon as you came, he pulled out, then you felt his hot cum on the small of your back.      

You cuddled for a while after that and fell back asleep.   When you next woke up, sticky with his cum between you, you rolled over and faced Corey.  He was affectionate, looking deep into your eyes, stroking your hair, telling you how much he liked you.  You kept thinking, he hardly knew you.  You didn't know if he would like you as much if he did.  Those days, you didn't want to let anyone get close enough to find out.  You had gone through a rough patch of your own and your self worth hadn't yet recovered.  

-

You went home to shower before work and you brought a bottle of chocolate milk back to the bar with you.  You knew Corey would come for lunch and hoped it would cheer him up if he was feeling blue again.  When you gave him the chocolate milk that you brought just for him. . . he looked at you like he was in love with you.  That moment gave you more than an inkling you were leading him on.  You didn't mean to – you really liked him – you were just afraid and dealing with your own issues at the time.  

Your affection for him began to get drowned out by discomfort.  Your kindness alone might not have been construed as anything more than that.  But you fucked him twice . . . And you wondered if you were his first.   Every nice gesture after that would only bond him to you more.  

Corey stayed at the bar all day, not really drinking much.  While you were busy, he poorly played pool and darts.  When it was slow, he talked to you, but it wasn't the same fun, casual banter you enjoyed the night before.  There was a puppy dog vibe, like you owned him and he was lost without you. That scared you because you didn't want to hurt him more than he'd already been hurt in the past year.   You didn't want to get his hopes up for something more and have the whole thing become another disappointment. 

You shut down and told him you had to go somewhere after work.   As much as your body wanted to go back to his motel room, your gut was telling you that you didn't have the capacity to nurture him the way he needed.  He was clearly upset when he left but tried not to show it.  He said he was going back to Haddonfield but hoped to see you again.  There must have been hell to pay when he got back, from what he shared with you about his mother.

-

After he went back to Haddonfield, he texted you piningly as if you were dating.  He was trying to make plans for when to see each other again.  He even mused about getting a job in your town.  You told him you weren't ready for a relationship and needed to spend some time alone. 

He tried to convince you.  Eventually, he left you alone, but you always wondered if he'd be back one day.  You actually missed him.  You thought about him over the next year or two as you got yourself together.  He was a good guy.  You started to realize maybe you shouldn't have sabotaged yourself.  You were as worthy and deserving of love as anyone else.  But it was too late, you thought. 

****************

Present Day :  November 2022

You’re closing the bar tonight. It’s slow, with just a couple of regulars slumped over the bar exchanging occasional words. Given the recent carnage in nearby Haddonfield, people haven't been going out as much.  There might as well be a curfew.  Some people still don't believe Michael is dead.  Others speculate about him having a partner still at large. The regulars have been walking you to your car every night just in case.  

You’re restocking the liquor and eavesdropping on the latest gossip between the regulars when a burly, dark shape walks in alone.  He sits down at the bar and orders a beer.  You give it to him without fully  meeting his eyes and don’t recognize him until you see those hands dwarfing the bottle and do a double take.  Sure enough, he has the same pinky ring.  No glasses or jacket.  Blue button-up shirt with the collar popped.  Blue khakis.  His hair is dark, and his curls are wild.   His face is banged up.  A fresh cut bridges his nose.  He’s muscular, imposing.  His presence is intimidating.  He's like a different man. 

You realize you’re staring.  “Corey,” you say.  “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.”

There’s a long moment of silence, like he’s waiting for you to say something more.  He looks at the bottle in his hand and takes a sip. 

“You’re sorry you didn’t recognize me?” He smiles disturbingly.  His voice gives you butterflies between your legs and takes you right back to that motel room two years ago.  His throat bobs as he takes another sip from the tiny-looking bottle.  

“And I’m sorry I didn’t text you back," you add. 

“Yeah,” he says, raising a brow.  He holds eye contact and his jaw clenches. "You know, you also took something from me."  Your heart sinks.  His virginity?  You always suspected it. 

“I shouldn't have," you say. 

"Oh, you regret it?" He challenges you. You're squirming, and he seems to be enjoying it. 

"Of course not. Just, I wasn’t in a place where I could handle–"

"-me," he sighs. 

"I'm sorry.”  

He shrugs.  "Apology accepted,” he says unconvincingly.   “What place are you in now?” 

"Um, good question."  You look around and decide not to answer.  His erect collar catches your eye again, drawing attention to his facial injuries.   God, he looks hot.  

He smirks as he notices you checking him out.  

“You look good,” you say, wiping the bar with a rag.  “I’ll be back.”  You pour the regulars a round.  Corey keeps his eyes on you like a hawk.   You’re wearing a skirt and fishnet stockings – better tips that way.   

When you come back, you ask Corey what brings him into town.  He tells you he’s on his way out of the area for good.  "And I'm taking you with me," he adds matter-of-factly. 

You're stunned. Your lips part but you don't know how to react.  

He rolls his eyes and adds, "If you want, of course." 

You ask him what he’s going to do.  He looks around and answers obtusely, “Maybe I’ll practice my pool game.”  His gravelly voice really does something to you.  Your butterflies aren't fading, they're multiplying. 

You get the triangle of pool balls from under the bar and hand it to him, forcing a smile.  His large hand wraps around yours as he takes it and there’s a spark between you.  He holds your gaze then walks back to the billiards.  He racks the balls and rolls up his sleeves.  You forget to blink. He must have put on at least 15 kg of muscle, and he was already built before.  He grabs a cue stick off the wall and comes around the table so his ass is facing you.  He bends over and looks back at you before he takes the break shot.  You look away and start cleaning the counter again, but your eyes keep returning to him.   

-

You bring him his drink and he thanks you.  

You linger and ask,“How'd you get so good?"

He looks you up and down and shrugs.  “Grab a cue.  I’ll show you.” 

You look at the bar and it’s still those regulars.  You know they’ll be there until closing.  You grab a stick off the wall.

Corey crosses his toned arms and says, “Show me what you’ve got.”   His eyes are dark.  Part of you finds his presence unnerving, but the warm, wet part of you is grateful for the excuse to bend over in front of him. 

You lean over the pool table and Corey crowds you.  You don't mind the cliche when he gets all the way up against you to show you how it’s done.  He puts both his huge hands over yours.  His hands are as scratched up as his face.  His chin rests on your shoulder, and his body leans into yours.  

He says, "First lesson."  A hardness swells against your skirt, then his lips brush your ear.  “Don’t start something you can't finish,” he whispers. You swallow.  His hand on yours takes the shot, and a ball rolls into a pocket.  

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as you begin to stand upright.  You turn your head and try to turn your body, but he has you pinned to the table.

“Or someone will have to finish it for you,” he adds, then his lips barely brush the skin below your ear.  Your ass subtly pushes back into him before you can stop it.  He takes the cue and places the stick on the table.  His massive hands feel up the sides of your thighs, sliding up under your skirt.  His breath is hot on your cheek as he grinds his arousal into you.   Your breath hitches and all your blood rushes to your loins.  He gives you space to turn around.    

“Closing time, right?,” Corey says, looking at the clock behind you.  He reaches around you and picks up the bottle to take a sip of his beer.   

Your heart flutters.“Yeah, it’s just a few minutes-”

He slams his empty bottle down and walks over to the jukebox and puts on Nine Inch Nails. 

You straighten your skirt and compose yourself to go close out the regulars.  

One of them asks if you’re good and you say yes.  He yells over to Corey telling him to walk you to your car.  

Corey gives him a thumbs up and a smile that sends a chill down your spine.  The regulars leave.  

Your face is warm as you look at Corey and come back out from behind the bar.  

“Should I go?” He booms from the billiards table over the music.  The last thing you want is for him to leave.  You know you shouldn’t let him stick his crazy in you, but you’re thinking with the wrong head.  

“It's okay. I still have some clean-up,” you say.  You wipe down the other end of the bar as he plays pool.  You start stacking chairs on top of tables, and you get to the one that’s closest to him.  You watch him with your heart racing.  You're getting wetter and wetter as he clears all the balls and puts the cue sticks back on the wall. 

He leans his ass and both hands against the pool table and crosses his ankles.  His jaw clenches.  

"Here's the deal. I'll leave if you want.  But if I stay. . . you're really mine this time."  He looks you dead in the eye.  

You don't say anything.  You step closer and start to grab the empty bottle beside him, but before you touch it, he intercepts you with a large, veiny hand on your wrist.  He brings your hand to the bulge in his pants and his lips part as he stares at you darkly.  Your palm meets the hardness in his pants, and it sends a tingling rush through your body.  The cut on the bridge of his nose intensifies the darkness of his gaze.   

“So, what's it going to be?” Corey asks. The vein on his neck bulges.

You swallow.  You can’t form words.  You remember to blink, and your eyelashes flutter.  

He lets go of your hand, but you leave it on his pants.  He subtly thrusts into your palm and your fingers involuntarily cradle his girth.  You find your body gravitating closer.  His eyes look back and forth between yours.  Your eyelids are getting heavy as you look back at him.

He presses you for an answer.  "Should I leave?"

Your eyes close and you take a deep breath.  “No,” you whisper.   

“Are you sure?”  He lightly strokes your temple with his thumb as he searches your eyes.  “Because once you're mine, I’m not letting go.”  His dark eyes smile.  

This is bad.  You know better.  You know *so much* better.  Tell him to leave.  Tell him to never come back.  You beg your legs to walk away, but they don’t.  

His face gets closer, and his hands come to your hips.  His nose brushes yours and your mouth hungrily accepts his perfect  lips.  He swells harder into your hand.  His lips move from your mouth to your neck, and he kisses, then licks, then marks you as though to illustrate his point.  

-

He steps out from between you and the pool table and your hand falls empty as he gets behind you again like he was earlier with the cue stick.  He grinds his thick arousal into you and his hands rove your thighs.  He lifts up your skirt so the bulge of his pants is against your stockings and he sighs. His khakis are smooth and soft and his bulge is hard and warm.  You're absolutely aching for him.  

It doesn't help that the song “Closer" is starting to play. Your primitive self is taking over. 

"You should give in," he says in a low voice. "But I'm not going to make you. Say the word and I'm gone" 

For a moment, he allows a couple of inches of space between your ass and his pants, and you ache for him closer again.  

"Don't go," your cock-blind mouth whispers.  

He closes the gap and chews on the nape of your neck as he grinds into you.  One of his hands comes between the two of you.  His large knuckles graze your ass.  You hear his zipper, and a wave of arousal floods your body.  

"Really? Think you can handle it?" He asks.  

He's not talking about his cock, but it's the only thing on your mind.  You barely nod. 

After a few seconds of rustling, his warm, stiff arousal smashes into the nook at the bottom of your ass, his skin on your skin through the soft diamonds of your stockings.  Corey's arm hooks around you and nestles between your breasts as his large hand wraps around your neck as he inhales the crown of your head.  His huge fingers apply light pressure to your neck and his forearm flexes,  making your knees weak with desire.  He could probably strangle you with that one big hand.  You don't flinch.  The pressure intensifies briefly before abruptly turning into a caress.  Then, he sucks the hell out of your neck. The pain puckers your nipples, and goosebumps prickle across your body.

His other hand slides around your waist, under your shirt, under your bra, and cups your breast, palming your hard nipple while he grinds his hardness into your ass and kisses the nape of your neck.  He crosses both hands in front of you and you let him take off your shirt.  Then, he expertly removes your bra.  He gropes your breasts and stomach and breathes heavily into your ear, his hardness thickening against you.  

-

He turns you around to face him.  His chest rises and falls as he looks at you.  His hard girth presses into your front.  He hikes your skirt up all the way over your ass, wraps his arms around you, and grabs your ass with both of his hands.   One hand slides down your crack, the heel of his palm pressing down on your stockings between your cheeks, then creeps between your legs.  Two of his thick digits run lightly - unbearably lightly - over your clit, then he slips them inside the soaked crotch of your stockings and your ample wetness meets his meaty fingers.  

"Fuck," he says. Your hips roll into him and tension coils tightly in your core.   His other hand massages you from the front.  You're engulfed by both his large hands, one from the back and one from the front.  Meanwhile, his nose drags across your neck and shoulder inhaling your scent.  

The thick fingers from each hand meet at a single diamond hole in the stockings, and he rips them wide open.  Your thighs tremble.  You want him so bad, he can take you anywhere he wants.

You practically jump up onto the pool table and lift your knees as he spreads them.  One huge hand on the small of your back steadies you there while his other hand holds his hard cock.  He looks down at himself then up at you as he thumbs the tip where precum is beading.  

"Last chance to back out," he whispers gruffly with a snarl.  Your legs wrap around him before you can think. You can't speak.  You just barely shake your head no.

He drags his swollen tip along your dripping cunt and leaves it nestled at your entrance.  Both his hands come behind you and he teases your warm, wet hole with short thrusts.  Not even the head is fully penetrating you. The tension deep inside you coils tighter and warmer.  Your whole body is dizzy with need for him. 

"You really want it that bad," he breathes, looking at you with black eyes.  "Bad enough to give up everything." 

Warmth rushes your face.  You nod and your eyes water at your lack of restraint. The swollen head of his cock begins to breach your entrance.  The stretch makes you gasp.  You don’t remember it being like this.  He plunges into you, parting your insides, filling you to the brim.  His hips rock into you, fucking you slowly and smoothly at first, but soon he begins to bury himself inside you more forcefully.  The coil in your core pulses and threatens to spring you open.   

Each thrust fills you with something you can't even describe.  You've never felt anything like this, not even when you fucked him before. Your whole body feels electrified.  An energy you don't understand is pouring out of him and into you as your bodies become one.  His cock makes you physically complete.  You start to miss it even while it's still inside you.  The thought of even an inch of air between you stings your eyes.  You never want to be apart. 

He feels so fucking good, and the way he glides so firm and full inside you, the way he holds you, it's all so perfect.  You think, why not? Why not go with him? His pace quickens with his arms tight around you, using the edge of the pool table for balance as he thrusts into you.  

He grunts softly into your ear, and you know you can’t hold off much longer.   "Fuck, you feel good," he growls.  "You were made for me."  The sound of his voice sends you.  You moan as the rush floods your body in waves.  You flutter around his cock and his big hands grip your ass.  He pulls you even tighter into him and grunts with each of your contractions.  He erupts  inside you in enormous pulses, filling you up with his hot seed.  

As he catches his breath, he takes your hands in his and closes his eyes.  When he opens his eyes, they're watery.  "I've wanted this for so long," he says.  "I thought about you so much." His arms engulf you as you sit on the table.  

“Meet Your Master” starts playing. 

"I thought about you, too," you say into his chest. 

"No," he says confidently.  He slowly adds, "You have no idea how much I've thought about you.  How many times and ways."  He kisses your head then your lips, and the kiss becomes passionate.  He pulls back and looks at you, reading your face like a book.  His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. "You've been mine all along."  He strokes your hair.  "And I won't ever let you go again." 

Your stomach turns a little, but he kisses you hard, and it drowns out the doubt for now.

His eyes darken to black, and his voice deepens.  "Because if I can't have you, no one will." 

-

BONUS: Alternate/deleted sexual position (lol)

#toxicanonymity ☠️ #corey cunningham x reader #dark!corey cunningham #shape!corey cunningham #corey cunningham smut #corey cunningham x you #corey cunningham #meowmeow!corey cunningham #cordeliart

[shimmerwindow]

I Never Really

Part Eighteen

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Angst, alcohol use, smut

Sexual content: Fingering n' fuckin. (it's a quick one)

Playlist | Masterlist

Tag List: @jazzyfigz @dont-go-home-without-me @poochiesworld @stardustcatcher @83rkblogs @jaketsguitar @dannys-dream @gretavanfan @do-it-jakey-baby @gvfpal @ignite-my-fire @gardensgatekeeper @torniturntomyarrow

“Are you busy tonight?” Josh’s voice was cheery on the other end of the phone you held to your ear. “You should come out with me and Danny!”

You had no desire to leave your dorm whatsoever. You hadn’t felt the need to leave, except for classes, for the past two weeks straight. Most of your free time was consumed with sleeping, to avoid the aches in your heart. “I really shouldn't. I’ve got some homework I should catch up on,” you lied.

“That’s what you said last time,” Josh said, sounding a little whiny. “Just come out. You won’t regret it.”

“I can’t. Have a good night, Josh.”

“Wait! Listen, you’ve been cooped up in there for weeks, haven’t you? That’s so terrible for the mind. Just a few drinks, nothing ridiculous, it’ll make you feel better, I promise.”

He’d called you a week ago asking the same thing, but he hadn’t alluded to knowing anything about the situation. You figured he must know, but he was giving you the space to only ask for support if you wanted it. And you didn’t feel like you deserved anything of the sort. “I feel fine.”

“You sound like you’ve spent the whole day fuckin’ crying. Just come out with us. Just for an hour, that’s all I’ll ask.”

He clearly wasn’t going to take no for an answer, stubborn as he was. You wouldn’t be surprised if you said no, he would come knocking at your door within minutes. “Fine. One hour. Then I’m going home.” You figured that was as long as you could hold it together for, anyway.

“Be there soon.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he hung up.

You pulled on something halfway decent-looking, trying your best in the mirror to cover up the dark circles under your eyes. You still looked a mess, but in the dark lighting of a bar, nobody would be able to tell you’d spent the last two weeks crying your eyes out nightly.

You met the two outside, Danny pulling the car around with Josh riding shotgun. You slid into the back, your mind in a daze, still unable to pull yourself out of the fog you’d been in.

“Hey, how ya doing?” Danny asked, turning around to give you a smile before he drove off.

“I’m alright.”

“You sure don’t look it. No offense,” Josh said, turning to face you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “None taken. Life’s been a bit hard lately.”

“I hear that,” Danny replied. “Sounds like you need a drink. Or five.”

“Not too much, now,” Josh said.

“I’m guessing...you guys know…” just attempting to say the words wracked your body with indescribable pain. The two of them stiffened, shifting uncomfortably in their seats. You wished you’d never brought it up at all.

“I mean, we don’t really want to…” Danny started.

Josh picked up where he left off. “If you want to talk about it, we’re here to listen. And help. If you want it, of course.”

“I don’t want to trouble you with all of that.” You waved a hand and offered a weak smile.

“It’s no trouble at all.” Danny flashed a grin at you through the rear view mirror.

“We can talk about it later,” you replied.

Later came quickly, several drinks in, as you and Josh slurred your words and spoke far too loudly over Danny, the only sober man in the room. One hour turned into many, and your heart finally opened, and you began to pour out all of the words you’d let linger inside of you. Voices drowned out most of your ramblings, as did the droning country-pop blaring from the radio.

“They’re both just fucking assholes,” you said with a flourish of your drink, nearly knocking a bystander in the head with it. “Both of them.”

“I don’t think you mean that.” Danny had been attempting to be the voice of reason, though it was difficult while caught between you and Josh.

“This whole situation is fucked up. I don’t get it, why didn’t you just tell Sam?” Josh asked.

“Because I knew he was fucking around with that other girl!”

“So what?” Josh gave an exaggerated shrug. “Fuck her. You deserve him more.”

“I think she was trying not to be a homewrecker, Josh,” Danny said.

“Exactly.” You set your drink down a bit too hard, sending droplets splattering onto your arm. “I really like him, I– I love him, so I didn’t want to hurt him.”

“You didn’t want to hurt him,” Danny began. “So you slept with his brother. Right.”

“Listen, I just thought…” You stopped in your tracks, the weight of your actions washing over you like waves of mercury once again. He had a point you couldn't refute.

“Those two, they’re always, like…” Josh snapped his fingers a few times, his eyes to the ceiling, searching for words. “They’ve got the same taste in women, I think. Causes problems sometimes.”

“Has anything like this happened before?” You asked.

“Not quite this severe.” Danny rested the toes of his shoes against the bar, leaning his chair back a bit. “You’ve got both of them all shook up like I haven’t seen before.”

“They don’t usually fight like that,” Josh added.

“Jake, he had a–” you gestured to your cheek, motioning in the shape of the bruise you’d seen. “Sam didn’t do that, did he?” You weren’t sure whether you actually wanted to know the answer.

The two exchanged glances, and Josh nodded, slowly.

You groaned, running a hand across your face. “Don’t tell me Jake busted Sam’s pretty face, too.”

Josh squinted at you, holding up two fingers in a pinching motion. “A little.”

“Jesus, I’m gonna kill both of them. Fighting over me like fucking cavemen.”

“It’s par for the sibling course, darling. Don’t worry about it too much,” Josh said. “We’ve all taken and given our fair share of ass-kickings.”

“Still doesn't make it right,” you sighed. “I wonder if Sam ever even liked me the way he said he did. Maybe he was just messing around so he could fuck.”

Josh blinked at you. “What on god’s green earth would make you think that?”

“Well, he just…he was able to move on so fast–”

“First of all,” Josh began, “All he’s talked to me about was you for the past fucking month. Also, he didn’t move on.”

“He didn't?”

“Of course not,” Danny chimed in before Josh could speak. “I don’t even think he’s seen anybody else since you. Not that we’ve heard, at least.”

“But I haven't seen him…not even once. Clearly he doesn’t care that much if–”

Josh cut you off with a loud, exaggerated groan. “Why are you arguing?”

“Josh,” Danny urged. “Be gentle.”

“Gentle? I don't need to be gentle. You–” he grabbed your shoulders, his light touch contrasting the edge to his words. “Need to realize that he loves you.”

“We never said that,” you said, struck suddenly by how Josh and Sam shared the same eyes. So kind, and inviting. “We never said I love you.”

“Then maybe you should. Because he's said it about you. Maybe not to your face, but he's made it plenty clear.”

“You just need to talk to him, honestly,” Danny said, gently lifting Josh’s hands from your shoulders. “Have you tried reaching out?”

“I haven’t,” you said, a bit guilty. “I thought that if he wanted anything to do with me, he’d have texted me first.”

“Then that’s exactly what you need to do. Call him, text him, hell – go knock on his door. Talk to him in person.” Danny watched you as your lip began to quiver, thinking about the anxiety of having to address your wrongs straight in the face. “It’s not gonna be easy. But you can’t just let this…fester. You two were made for each other.”

“Jesus, you really think so?”

“Everyone thinks so,” Josh said with a wide smile.

"Even Jake?" Just the act of letting his name grace your lips brought forth an entirely new wave of anxiety.

The two men paused, glancing at their drinks, though the silence was not awkward. "I think Jake..." Josh started, finding the right words. "I think he just wants you to be happy. He didn't really understand what was going on between you and Sam."

"Clearly," you mumbled.

"Jake is a bit territorial," Danny added, spreading his arms wide. "When Jake thinks a girl is his, he takes it seriously. More seriously than he probably should."

"Especially when he's not trying to date anyone." Josh's words betrayed a deeper annoyance, like this exact situation had played out far more than once. "It's partially on Sam for not mentioning how serious the two of you were sooner. But Jake won't sabotage you now that he knows," he shrugged. "But you still need to talk to Sam."

“Fine, then.” You took another deep swig from your drink. “I’ll talk to him. I’ll tell him everything. Tomorrow.”

“Atta girl!” Josh exclaimed, giving you a pat on the back.

“I need a fucking cigarette,” you mumbled.

Outside, the sound from the crowd drained away, only the loudest of shouts and heaviest of glasses clinking audible behind the glass doors to the patio. You were too drunk at this point to keep a steady conversation going, but it was pleasurable nonetheless. Josh and Danny were an incredibly funny duo, and just a few minutes of casual talking had your sides in stitches from laughing.

You felt, dare you say, better. You did seem to have a terrible knack for avoiding talks you didn’t want to have. But Danny and Josh had assuaged those worries that kept you from saying what needed to be said. It was likely mostly the alcohol speaking, but you were feeling confident in your ability to finally speak to Sam. It needed to be done, no matter what. If nothing else, he deserved closure from you. An admission of the truth, straight from your lips.

The three of you couldn’t last long in the cold, huddling together to shield yourselves from the wind that whipped past the nearby buildings. Josh and Danny cracked first, and with a “fuck this,” they headed back into the bar, with you in tow. The two of them had just barely passed through the hallway back into the main section of the bar when they stopped dead in their tracks, so quickly you ran into Danny’s back, bumping your glass on him and sending an ice cube tumbling over the leather.

“Shit, sorry,” you mumbled, peering around both of them to see what had stopped them so suddenly.

It all seemed to happen so fast. Both of them turned around at the same time, stepping towards you, blabbing nonsense about how you should go back outside. But not before you caught a glimpse of the bar, straight ahead. Many unfamiliar faces, among them two you knew. One of which you knew well.

Sam sat at the bar, a drink in his hand, his arm around a girl, who was resting herself against him. A girl you recognized from your worst nightmares, some of which were waking. He was talking to her, a smile on his lips. In an instant, his eyes caught yours through the gap between Josh and Danny’s shoulders. His smile faded, turned into something you’d never seen. Like his lips would never know the sweet feeling of a smile again. And he turned away.

Josh and Danny had to nearly drag you back to Danny’s car, as your legs threatened to give out with every step with the force of your sobs. People stared, whispered at each other under their breath, but you didn’t care. You wished you’d gone blind. Your stomach churned on the ride home as you prayed to any god to turn back time just a few months.

Everything was a blur. You barely processed anything as Josh rubbed your back through your heaving cries, or kind words were offered from Danny when you screamed that Sam never cared about you at all. You wished you were being dramatic, you wished this was all not as serious as you were taking it. You wished you’d never thought of your future with him, that you’d never given yourself the space to hope and dream. The walls he’d broken down would be replaced swiftly, and sturdier than ever, you thought.

Danny, ever the caregiver, sat with you as Josh stumbled his way to bed. He gave you all the blankets you needed to quell the shaking your body refused to quit, as many tissues as you needed to dry your eyes. He listened as you rambled, drunkenly, about the same topics over and over. Rehashing the events of the past months, trying to make sense of it all, trying to find a solution, though there was none.

You'd taken Danny for some kind of frat-boy-type, player, seducer. But sitting in the living room with him, letting him hold your hand for support while he told you everything would be alright, you realized you’d painted him as far too one-dimensional. He was kind, and only wanted the best for you, even though he didn’t know you all that well.

You insisted you didn’t want to be a bother, and that you’d walk yourself home. He physically held you back as you tried to get up from the couch. “Absolutely the fuck not,” he said.

You’d pushed, saying you needed to be alone, you didn’t want to keep anyone up with your crying. “I should just go,” you insisted. “I can't–”

“Shush.” He placed a hand on top of your head, ruffling your hair a bit. “I didn’t bring down all those blankets and pillows for fun. Use them. Go to sleep.”

Sleep seemed like an impossible, far-away pipe dream right now, even through your exhaustion. Still, you were thankful he'd given you a warm place to rest your head, where you wouldn’t be entirely alone. “Thanks Danny,” you said, almost able to force a smile onto your face. “I’m sure I’m being a lot right now. I–”

“Don’t even think about apologizing. You needed a friend, that’s alright. Now go to bed.”

You did as he said, resting your head on the pillows. “Is…is he coming back tonight?” You glanced at the front door.

Danny followed your gaze to the door, looking at you plaintively. “Probably not. And Jake’s gone for at least the weekend. Don’t worry about that right now, though. You’ve been through enough tonight.”

You nodded in agreement, letting your swollen eyes slip shut as Danny turned off the lights. “Sleep well. We can talk in the morning.”

In the darkness, alone, your mind wanted you to think it all over again. You were exhausted, drained beyond belief, unable to even comprehend the events laid out in front of you. It took great effort, but you were finally able to relax just enough to drift into something resembling sleep.

That is, until you heard keys rattling in the front door. You shot up, staring at the door, your heart pounding immediately. Someone was out there. Someone was about to walk in. You prayed it was Jake, prayed he would simply walk right past you with nothing more than a half-smile and a nod. The door opened quietly, and you watched closely at the way the person swung it quickly past the points where it would creak.

Sam stood in the doorway, motionless, the door still open behind him, cold air pooling over you. He said your name, questioning, just barely loud enough for you to hear. You said nothing – what was there to say? You wished he would just ignore you, walk past you, go up to his room and slam the door. Instead, you watched, captivated, as he took his coat and shoes off, locked the door behind him, and sat down on the other end of the couch, cross-legged, facing you.

“Hey,” he said. A forced casualness tainted the word.

“You shouldn’t be doing this.” You meant that. There was no saving what you’d had.

“I know.” He let out a shaky sigh. “I don’t…know what to say.”

You could just barely see him, his features only dimly lit from a light in the kitchen. You pointed to his temple, where the remnants of a bruise darkened his skin. “Jake did that to you. Didn’t he?”

Sam nodded. “Does it look cool?” There was not an ounce of humor in the words.

“Why did you fight over me?”

“Because I thought I deserved you more.”

“You deserve far better than me.”

He tsked his tongue, shaking his head. “I don’t want anything but you.”

“But you were with that girl tonight.”

“Because you’re not mine anymore. Or, I guess, you never were.”

“Fair enough.”

“We never fucking talk,” he hissed. You were sure he would have shouted, if he could. “This is our problem. What we're doing right now. We never just fucking talk to each other. I’ve said it before, and neither of us change it.”

“I thought we were doing alright.”

“But you didn’t tell me you had been fucking my brother on the side.”

“It was twice. And I wanted to tell you, I was planning on it, I just–”

“Why? After everything I told you, why him?” You could see tears in his eyes, glistening against the glow from the streetlights peeking through the curtains.

You took a long pause. You wished there was a better answer, something more concrete or absolute, but the truth was all you wanted to say. “I don’t know. You weren’t there, and he was. It was fucking stupid of me. It wasn’t to hurt you, though. Not consciously. I saw you with her, and I figured there was no way you could want me more than someone who looks like that.”

“Right,” he scoffed. “Sure.”

“I’m trying to talk to you.” Another batch of tears was lining up behind your eyes, though you couldn’t fathom having any more left to cry. “I just want you to know the truth.”

“How am I supposed to trust you? Now, or ever?”

You could only shake your head. “I don’t know.”

“It’s been so hard,” he said, his hand coming to idly rest on yours, splayed out on the couch between the two of you. The simple touch felt like grabbing a fistful of snow with bare fingers, icy and shocking. “I don’t know…I’m just not me without you.”

“I know.” Tears started to fall again, and you didn’t bother wiping them away. Your eyes were already irritated enough from the hours you’d spent sobbing in this very spot. “I can’t bring myself to do anything.”

“What are we supposed to do now?”

“I think we have to answer that ourselves.”

“I just can’t survive without you.” His fingers walked up the back of your hand, wrapping gently around your forearm. “But we’re killing each other. I can’t…” He pulled his hand away, and hesitated. Stillness filled the air when his fingers ran across your cheek, wiping away a tear there. “I can’t see you like this. I can’t do this to you.”

“I can’t do this to you, either.” You mirrored his gesture, your thumb running trails over the tracks of tears on his face.

“Can I…” he shifted, gesturing to you to come closer. Despite your better judgment, you fell heavy into his arms, resting your cheek against his collarbone. That scent again, it hit you like waves, dredging up every hope and every wish you’d fought so hard to bury over the past two weeks. You wished you could lay this way forever, a familiar position you used to adopt when the two of you would lounge in bed together.

“Can we just pretend everything is normal?” You said, with the lightest hint of a forced laugh.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Please.” The word was choked, nearly a sob. “Just give me this one night with you.”

“We can’t.” His motions contradicted his words as his hands pulled you closer to his chest.

“Just tonight and then we can both forget.” It stung to say it, like a papercut. “We can forget about each other. I’ll forget about your whole family. It can be like we never happened.”

You heard him suck in a hitched breath through his teeth. With hands that trembled, he cupped the sides of your face and drew you in, stopping short of a kiss. You wanted nothing more than to break past his hands, meet your lips with his, feel every inch of him under your mouth. You needed him more than could be expressed in words or actions, it was far deeper, something soul-crushing and gut-wrenching.

He felt it too. And he was not strong enough to resist. He pulled you in, kissing you, with the fervor of a man who has waited his entire life for this moment. He tasted salty, the taste of your mutual tears collected on the corners of your lips; a reminder of that night at the bar with him, the salt of his neck.

You tried to hold yourself back. You knew you shouldn’t let this go any further, but your hands moved on their own to wrap around his neck. “We shouldn't do this,” you mumbled, peppering kisses along his jaw.

“Then stop.”

You couldn’t, and neither could he. It was so unceremonious, but there was something sacred about your movements. The way he ripped the blankets off of you, the way his hands slipped under your shirt, the way you pulled at his hair and fumbled with the button on his pants. Neither of you needed to ask – you were far past that point. It was all unsaid, as many things tended to be between the two of you. He only needed to give you that look he’d given you however many dozen times in the past, the one that you’d reply to with a nod and dewy doe-eyes.

Things were a blur, hands grasping and fingers trailing over flesh, lips colliding with fervor in dead silence and darkness. You could just barely see his face, but you didn’t need to see much. The sound of his breathing, the scent of his skin, it all led you back home.

He shoved your pants down to your knees, dragging you into his lap, his lips never leaving yours. He shifted your bodies, leaning his back against the couch, straddling your knees on either side of his.

“You always smell so good,” he whispered into the side of your neck. “I dream about it.” He slid a hand between the two of you, running a finger through the wetness already drenching your thighs. “I wake up sometimes and I could swear you’re right there next to me.”

You’d done the same, thought you were crazy for being surprised at the other half of your bed being cold and empty every morning. You couldn’t vocalize it, not when he slid a finger into you and you had to bite down on his shoulder to keep yourself silent. But he could feel it from you, the subtle agreement present in how your nails scratched thin lines into his biceps.

“Is that good?” He asked, his breath warming the shell of your ear.

You let out a muffled mhm, your teeth still sunk into his shoulder. If you hadn’t already broken the skin, you would leave a bruise for certain. He didn’t seem to mind, though.

You trailed your hands over the fabric of his shirt, down to where you'd managed to haphazardly undo the fly of his jeans. You hadn’t realized your fingers were cold until they settled on the warmth of his cock, making him suck a breath in through his teeth and jump back a bit. The two of you stifled muted laughs at the exchange, and even if it was only a glimpse, it was heartwarming to feel a brief moment of humor.

Your bodies moved in time quickly, your hand moving in languid strokes along his cock as he worked you open with his fingers. You didn’t want to wait, having waited long enough, having suffered more than enough lately. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes before you were begging him for it.

He slipped himself into you with little grace or fanfare, desperate for it. You let out a strained breath, watching what little of him you could see in the dark. You weren’t prepped quite enough, the stretch of him knocking the wind out of you.

“Fuck,” he whispered, the word coming out shaky. “You feel better than I remember.”

You let out a downright pathetic whimper, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, your legs already trembling.

“Move.” It was a command, not a request.

It was difficult, trying to force your body to move when each drag of your hips threatened to pull a moan from your lips.

Words piled up behind your teeth when he pulled you closer, his lips dragging across the skin of your neck. Your face buried in his hair, you tried to take all of this in. The silk of his hair against your cheek, the smell of sweat and cologne, the way his shoulders rose and fell with each shaking breath. It was so beautiful, so bittersweet, a gorgeous agony you’d never be able to forget.

“Just say it,” he said lowly. “I can tell you want to say it so just fucking say it.”

“I love you.” It spilled from your lips brutally, the sound crashing against the walls of the room like thrown fine china.

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Sam.”

“More.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you, you’re everything to me, you’re my stars, my sky, my universe–”

He wrapped his hands tighter around you, tight enough that you could barely breathe. But you didn’t feel the need to breathe, not when you were filled with him, surrounded by him. Your mind started to unravel, giving in to sheer, untethered bliss. Your eyes slipped shut and in the darkness you could see gold.

“I love you too,” he said, softly, casually, like he’d said it a hundred times. Maybe, in his head, he had.

This couldn't be it. This couldn’t be the last time you’d feel him this way. He broke into a steady rhythm, keeping himself buried inside you for the most part, grinding his hips against you.

You mumbled sweet nonsense against his neck, planting kisses between every word, chanting his name like a mantra in the hopes you might stay this way forever. “I never want you to let me go.” Both physically and emotionally, you meant it both ways.

“I can’t,” he breathed. “I can’t imagine me without you. I can’t imagine the sky with no moon and no sun.”

You exhaled a breathy laugh against his skin. “Still so corny.”

“I know how much you love it.”

You had to fight desperately to keep quiet when his hands wrapped around the bottoms of your thighs, lifting and dropping you slightly with each thrust of his hips.

“Stay quiet, baby. You’re doing such a good job.”

He’d never talked to you like this before, never during sex. This was more than just sex, though. What you were doing was something intimate, something deeper, something you both desperately needed. Some kind of closure, or the opening of another door, you couldn’t tell which one quite yet.

A quiet moan slipped past your lips when his hand dropped down beneath you to press against your clit, the perfect amount of pressure, just the way you liked it. His free hand clasped over your mouth, gentle but forceful.

“Quiet, my love.”

My love.

You were getting close to a peak you knew you couldn't keep silent, waves of it washing over your body and sending sparks down your spine, into the tip of every limb. He pulled his hand away at just the right time for you to warn him.

“Sammy, I’m–”

“I know. I can feel it.” You could faintly hear the rumble of his own groans that he caught in his throat, keeping himself quiet with what seemed like great effort.

“Is it better?” He asked.

“What?” You gasped, your focus faltering.

“Do I fuck you better than he does?”

There was no hesitation. “Much better.”

He pulled back a bit, searching for your face in the darkness, finding it and catching your lips in a kiss. There were so many words unsaid that passed through that kiss, every confession, every lie you’d ever told, it was all so glaringly obvious in the way your lips met.

His fingers were digging in tighter against you, his legs starting to shake with effort. He was just as close as you were, fighting, struggling to hold himself back.

“I don’t think I can– oh, god, Sammy, I can’t keep this a quiet one,” you warned him.

“Me neither,” he laughed, breathlessly.

His hand shot up to cover your mouth as you let out a sound that was far too loud. He, too, grit his teeth against whatever noise threatened to make itself known as both of you tipped over the cliffside of your peaks, together. A groan like a sob tore itself out of his chest and he had to cover his own mouth, his head falling back against the couch.

You held onto his shoulders for dear life as he plunged you down into a world of untethered pleasure, his name falling from your lips even though it didn’t make a sound. Stars exploded across your vision, your legs failing you as all you could do was grind helplessly against him. Your hips moved of their own accord, chasing the remnants of bliss.

His fingers gripped your waist after a moment, stilling your movements. “Stop, stop, oh my god,” he whispered, a desperate edge to his voice from the overstimulation.

There was no rush to separate. Neither of you wanted this moment to end. It was clear this was not something you could stop. Your love was an unstoppable force, and you both were incapable of living without it.

“Did you mean it?” His tone was nonchalant, as if he didn’t care what your answer would be one way or the other.

“Of course I did.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

The question caught you off guard, diving in so deep so quickly as you were still dripping into his lap. Gazing into his eyes, and the profound sadness you found there, you spoke a thousand words all at once. Wanted you, got lonely, took the next best thing. You could see it in his face; he understood.

“We need distance,” he sighed. An ironic thing to say, given where he was mere minutes ago. “If we’re not going to date. If we don’t trust each other.”

“But tonight…?” you didn’t finish the sentence, letting it play out in each of your heads.

He didn’t reply, only lifting you off of him, the two of you haphazardly pulling yourselves back together, and he lead you by the hand up to his room.

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