#otherwise they would just pine separately and never ever do anything about it

[purplepenntapus]

ZoSan would be a fast burn if they ever talked to each other. It’s a slow burn because they’re physically incapable of communicating in any way other than fighting lmao

#I’m sorry their lack of communication is so so funny to me because there’s so much about each other that they’d actually like if they ever #had a normal conversation #real talk in my head the only reason they end up together is because they have nakama who love to meddle #and are also sick and tired of watching them dance around each other #otherwise they would just pine separately and never ever do anything about it #Zoro in particular is like ‘hm feelings alright I will take this to my grave’ #rambles #one piece #ZoSan

[maladaptive-day-dreams]

Nobody Else

Eddie x fem!reader, 18+ smut, 6.1k words Inspired by a few lyrics from Ode to a Conversation Stuck in Your Throat by Del Water Group (they’re bolded in the fic)

CW: one-sided pining, smoking, grinding, protected sex, p in v, aftercare, mention of unprotected cockwarming, fingering and cunnilingus, edging, crying, possessive!Eddie, slight dom!Eddie, overstimulation, dry humping (Eddie to the bed), praise kink, fluff at the end

Tags: @hawkinsroyaloutcast​ @eddiemunsonfuxks​ 

Idk how but after editing it got 150 words longer...pls lemme know if you like it! This is the longest one shot I’ve ever written 🥵

You had a minor crush on Eddie Munson for a while—one that you were determined to get rid of because you knew he’d never go for you—before he suggested being friends with benefits, which you immediately said yes to but in a cool way.

“Hey y/n!” Eddie called from the doorframe across the hallway. Your head turned at the familiar voice. You and Eddie have had a few classes together and were paired up for most of the group projects in those classes so you were not quite friends but not quite strangers. You were acquaintances who would do class work and then smoke together, but Eddie was cool and you liked a lot of the same stuff so you wanted to actually be his friend.

You finished grabbing your books out of your locker and walk towards Eddie, “What’s up Munson?”

“I’ve got a question for ya,” he mused. “Don’t take it the wrong way alright, you’re hot and pretty cool, and you get along with the band and we always have fun when we smoke so I wanted to ask-“

“Oh my god, just spit it out Munson I have to get to Spanish,” you said, adding a breathless laugh on the end.

“Alright alright, Christ,” he responds, hand going up to rub the back of his neck. “Do you wanna be friends,” he pauses. “With benefits?”

Your brain stuttered and you paused for a little longer than you probably should have, but to have the guy you’ve been crushing on and been teetering on the edge of friends with ask you to casually have sex on a regular-ish basis? That was totally unexpected.

While your brain had been restarting, Eddie’s eyes searched your face for any inkling of a response before he huffed and said, “forget about it. Just forget that I said anything, it was stupid.”

He started to walk away but you quickly shifted your books to one arm and grabbed his wrist with your now free hand, “Eddie wait, wait.”

He paused and looked back at you, a mix of hurt and annoyance graced his usually happy features. “Yeah,” you breathed. “Let’s do it, why the fuck not.”

That had brought the biggest smile on his face, but he quickly hid it with his signature smirk. “Cool, meet me at my van after school yeah?”

You nodded and went your separate ways to class.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Eddie after that. Payed no attention in any of your classes, all you could think about was the fact that soon Eddie’s hands would be all over you. His lips would be all over you, his dick would be in you. And because of the not-so-pure thoughts that ran through your head you were getting turned on in the middle of English class talking about Of Mice and Men.

After that class you kinda rushed to your locker and swapped the books you had in your bag for the books you needed for homework—though you probably wouldn’t be getting any done tonight—and then walked outside while steadying your breathing. You saw Eddie in the left corner of the parking lot. He leaned against the passenger side of his van, cigarette in hand, talking to Gareth and Jeff. It’s like he felt your eyes on him because his flitted to yours and he smirked.

“Hey guys!” You said to Gareth and Jeff when you reached the van.

“Hey, y/n! How are you?” Gareth said with a hug.

“Hey y/n,” Jeff smiled.

“I’m good, thanks! Eddie and I are gonna have a smoke session while we work on the history project otherwise we’d invite you guys to hang out tonight.”

“Ah that’s alright, I’ve got family dinner and Jeff has a date tonight so it works out,” Gareth smiled. “We gotta do another smoke sesh with all of us though! I miss hanging out with you, 

y/n, Eddie needs to bring you around more often!” He half-yelled as he and Jeff started the walk back to their cars.

“Smoke session and history project, huh?” Eddie said, after he took a drag from his cigarette. “Nothing else? No other plans?”

“Shut up, Munson. I didn’t think you’d wanna let the world know we’re gonna be fuck buddies, plus we do need to work on the history project.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I think smoke and sex tonight, history project in the morning. It’s Friday anyway, no one should be doing homework on a Friday.”

He flicks away the butt of his cigarette and opens the passenger side door for you, helping you in to his van.

“It’s only 4 pm Eds, you really think we can’t work on the history project even a little bit?” You asked when he got into the driver’s seat.

“Nope, we’re smoking and then having takeout and seeing where the night takes us,” he looked over at you and gave you a toothy grin.

And that’s exactly what happened that night. You smoked, ordered Chinese food when the munchies hit and then smoked some more.

By 8 pm you were fed and high as a kite and still so horny from thinking about Eddie in class so you took the first step. You shifted from where you were sitting next to Eddie on the couch, getting up and standing in front of him. His legs were spread, one arm on the edge of the couch that was previously by your head, the other held an almost finished joint to his mouth.

He removed the joint from his lips as you straddled his lap, rubbing your needy cunt on his crotch as you got comfortable. Eddie smiled from where he sat below you. Wrapping his free arm around you he held you to him as he leaned forward to put the butt of the joint in the ashtray on the coffee table. He pressed a quick kiss to your clothed shoulder as he dropped the butt in the ashtray and leaned back into the couch.

His hands ran down your sides, your hips, your thighs and stopped at your knees, where he drew lines at the junction of your knees and thighs. He looked up at you, pupils blown from a mix of weed and lust, and you both stayed silent as his eyes followed your movements.

You crossed your arms reaching for the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, tossing it to the couch beside Eddie. His hands still ran up and down your thighs, drew circles by your knees. His eyes bore into your chest as you reached behind to unclasp your bra, finding its way to the ever-growing pile on the couch. 

His hands went wide, gripping your thighs tightly as his eyes raked over your half naked body. He followed suit, ridding himself of his shirt. You both looked at each other, marveling at the newly exposed parts of you both that neither of you had seen before.

“Y/N, we only have to do this if you’re comfortable,” Eddie said, eyes trailing from yours down your torso. HIs hands were still splayed on your covered thighs.

“Eddie,” you sighed. You rolled your hips against his jean-clad hard-on, eliciting a moan from his soft, pink lips. “Touch me, please.”

He met your eyes and slowly, agonizingly slowly, trailed his hands up to your hips, thumbs finally meeting skin. His hands were calloused and rough but his touches were delicate as his hands traced your figure. When his thumbs caressed the underside of your breasts you let out a shaky breath, hips moving of their own accord to create friction on the blossoming heat between your thighs. Thumbs trailed over your nipples and you arched into him. When he took your hardened buds between his thumb and pointer fingers and tweaked them you moaned and Eddie’s eyes went wide. He tried to readjust himself below you but instead dragged gasps from both of your throats as his throbbing, clothed cock met your warm, clothed core in a slow stroke.

“Kiss me,” you practically begged, and he happily obliged. He wrapped his arms around you, sitting up to meet you halfway and pulling your bare chests together as he took kissed your lips with fervor. It was a sloppy kiss, full of tongues and bites and open mouthed moans as you rocked against each other, chests together creating tantalizing friction on your sensitive nipples. You pulled back, a line of spit connecting your lips to his, and wrapped your arms around his neck as he stood and walked you backwards to his bedroom.

He settled you on his bed tenderly, kneeling between your open legs. He trailed kisses down your neck and chest. He took your right nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling around it he suckled and let go with a pop. When he blew cool air on its slickness, your back to arched towards him. He lavished your left with the same treatment before kissing down your stomach.

“Can I take these off?” He asked, hands on your hips. You nodded and he made quick work of your jeans, pulling them down and tossing them into a new pile to be made on his bedroom floor. He looked to you again for confirmation before dragging your panties down and tossing them to the floor with your jeans.

You sat up, hands reaching for his belt. Eddie pulled you in to a kiss, hands on your cheeks, as you worked down his jeans and boxers. When his cock sprung free from its confines he groaned into the kiss. He released your mouth as soon as your hand grasped him, his hips bucking into your fist.

“Fuck.”

“Condom?” 

“Bedside table,” he breathed, one of your hands still pumping his cock while the other reached for the condom.

He took the condom from you and gently pushed your shoulders down to the bed. You looked down at him between your legs and watched as he rolled the condom on his aching dick, your own fingers dipping into your needy cunt to prepare yourself for how big he is. Eddie watched your fingers sink into your wet pussy as he pumped his cock a few more times before lining himself up with your weeping hole.

“Ready?” He asked, eyes meeting yours again. Your yes turned into a moan as Eddie pushed himself into you slowly. Your walls stretched around him, back arching into his chest, knot in your lower stomach starting to form. His arms held him above you as he watched your face change with pleasure, your mouth dropping open in a silent oh, and your eyes rolling back. It was a sight that would never leave his memory.

He inched himself into you, reveling at the feeling of your walls pulsing and fluttering around his cock. As soon as he was buried to the hilt your cunt squeezed around him eliciting beautiful noises from his kiss-bitten lips. 

“Jesus H Christ, Y/L/N, fuck me,” he breathed. “If I’d known how greedy your pussy was—swallowing me so well—I would’ve asked to be fuck buddies a while ago,” he teased with a smile.

“Shut up, Munson,” you met his eyes with a half-laugh. “And move, please,” you asked, nails digging into his shoulders.

He loved that he had you begging already. He knew after this—after getting to feel your hot, wet cunt—that he was going to sit you down and talk all things sex and kinks so you both could get the most out of this friends with benefits relationship.

He kissed up your chest as he pulled back slowly, meeting your lips and swallowing your moan as he pushed back in to the hilt.

“More,” you begged. “Faster, Eddie.”

And he was happy to oblige. His kiss became more demanding as his thrusts became more forceful. The sound of slapping skin and muffled moans and the scent of sex filled the room. He held himself up with one hand and led one of your legs around his waist, your other one following soon after. At this angle his tip was hitting that sweet, spongey spot inside you that had the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter.

“Right there! Fuck, right there,” you whined. He dipped his head to yours, taking your lips in another heady kiss as he continued his assault on your pussy. One of Eddie’s hands trailed down your hips towards your center and traced rough circles onto your clit, drawing a moan from you.

Without warning, the coil in your stomach snapped, and your walls fluttered and squeezed around Eddie’s cock as you came. He let out a soft fuck at the way your pussy gripped his cock, your slick leaking down your thighs and ass as he continued to fuck you through your climax. A few more thrusts into your wet cunt had Eddie’s dick twitch before filling the condom with his seed, the sound that left his throat as he came was animalistic and raw. He continued to piston into your heat as his cock softened and your pussy fluttered around him before he pulled himself out and rid himself of the used condom.

Eddie slid off the bed and lifted you into his arms as he walked into his bathroom. He set you on he toilet so you could pee while he grabbed a towel from the sink and wiped your slick from his thighs and the base of his dick. He tossed the used towel into his hamper and helped you climb back into bed, pulling the sheet over your naked bodies. You were confused but thankful when Eddie wrapped his arms around you and laid your head on his chest.

“Do you need anything? Water, a snack? Cuddles, a movie? Sleep?”

“Eddie,” you said questioningly. “We’re friends with benefits. Isn’t now the point where I put my clothes back on and do the walk of shame home?”

His laugh reverberated in his chest. “Just because we’re friends with benefits doesn’t mean we won’t do aftercare or hang out after we fuck.”

“Aftercare?”

He pulled back to look at you, “don’t tell me your asshole exes never gave you aftercare.” Your silence was loud in his ears. “Jesus, okay so aftercare is what we need after sex. Sex can take a lot out of you mentally, emotionally and physically and aftercare is supposed to supplement the missing parts of those after, hence after care. Like for me, this right now, this cuddling and a little hanging out is what I need after sex.”

“Okay, um I think cuddling and hanging out will be good for me but also maybe talking? About what we did and then also maybe just in general? My ‘asshole exes’ never really talked about what they liked or didn’t like or ask what I liked or didn’t like and usually just went to bed or played their video games after.”

“We can definitely do that,” Eddie smiled at you. “Cuddling, hanging out and talking. That’s a good start.”

“And maybe some reassurance that this isn’t going to change our friendship at all,” you laughed.

“Oh so we’re friends now?” He chuckled, “don’t worry Y/N, nothing is going to change.

So the rest of the night consisted of cuddling, a movie, and talking through the good parts and not-so-good parts (of which there weren’t many) of the evening as well as just talking in general. Before you knew it, both of you were asleep in Eddie’s bed.

That was the first time you stayed the night at Eddie’s and nowhere near the last.

That was six months ago. And since then you talked kinks, hard limits and soft limits, and everything in between. You explored each other’s bodies at least once a week, sometimes multiple times a week, and usually ended up spending weekends in the Munson trailer. Eddie opened you up enough to start exploring your sexuality more, he made you comfortable enough to talk to him about what you’ve done, what you want to do and what is a little scary but a little interesting to you. He talked through what he’s done, what he wants to do and what he’ll be happy to help you test out.

You know some of the gang is getting a little suspicious—there were only so many projects you could blame your extended periods of time together on—but neither of you really care. You’re both content with learning about each other and through each other.

There are also times where one or both of you aren’t up for sex on one of the nights when you hang out. Instead, you’d go to the movies or get dinner or just smoke and plan the next DND campaign together. It was nice. It is nice.

And your crush you swore to get rid of? It’s still there, and you still try to snuff it out so you don’t ruin the good thing you have going with Eddie.

It’s Friday and Eddie has been a tad more touchy than usual at school recently. Even going so far as to hold your hand under the cafeteria table at lunch today, his thumb rubbing circles into the back of your hand.

When the bell rings he says by to the boys and walks you to your locker.

“My place after school?” He asks, shoulder blocking you from the rest of the hallway.

“Yeah,” you smile at him. “What plans do you have for us tonight?”

“That, my dear Y/N is a secret. But I think you’ll enjoy it,” he smirks, a lustful glint in his brown eyes. You scoff and close your locker.

“That’s what you said last time.”

“And what? You didn’t like warming my raw cock in your wet little pussy and not being allowed to fuck yourself on it? I, personally, loved how needy you got after a while and how much you clenched around me.”

“Eddie!” You half-laugh, half-scold him, smacking his arm softly with your textbook. “I’ll meet you at the van after last period.”

“See you then, sweetheart.”

Classes went by quickly and you’re buzzing with excitement about what Eddie has in store for you at his trailer all through last period. When the bell rings you get up and head to your locker to switch out your books and pick up your homework for the weekend. Walking outside, Eddie and the van aren’t in their usual spot at the corner of the lot. Instead he’s right out front, leaning against the passenger door with a cigarette like the first Friday night you fucked. 

“Hi, Y/L/N, ready to go?” He asks with a smile and open arms.

“Well this is different, and more out in the open,” you laugh, accepting his hug. You part from each other and he opens the passenger door for you.

“M’lady.”

“Oh such a gentleman,” you tease hopping in.

“Enjoy it because I won’t be a gentleman when we get home,” he smirks at you when he gets in the drivers side. You shiver with anticipation and he starts the van starting the drive to his place.

The drive is comfortable, constant conversation flows between you as you talk about school and life and sex.

“Can I get a hint, pleaseeeeeeeee?”

“No ma’am,” Eddie says with a laugh as you turn onto his street. “My lips are sealed.”

“Ugh fine,” you huff.

“Have patience, sweetheart. I promise you’ll like it.”

He pulls into the driveway and you both get out of the van and walk to the trailer door. Once inside you both put your backpacks by door and stand in the doorway looking at each other.

“So,” you pause. “Are we smoking and doing takeout like usual or?”

“No smoking. I want you to be present for what we do tonight, I want both of us present,” he smiles slowly, eyes raking over your body. “Up to you if you want to eat before or after. It might be a while.”

“Food after,” you say a little too quickly. You’re too excited to think of anything other than Eddie and his plans.

Eddie smiles and holds his hand out, palm up. You place yours in his gingerly and he walks you to his bedroom. Once inside his room, the door closed, Eddie put on music at a low volume and met you in the middle of the room.

“Can I-“

Eddie shakes his head and kisses you quiet. It’s a soft kiss, and when he pulls back he starts first. He rids himself of his shirt, toes of his shoes and takes off his jeans, standing before you in just his black boxers. You’re yes go wide as Eddie kneels and helps you take off your shoes. He moves his hands to the top of your shorts and with a nod of your head shimmies them down your hips, placing a kiss on your newly exposed thigh. He stands and removes your shirt with another nod of your head.

You stand together in the center of his room. Eyes taking in bodies. The air between you is charged, but something feels different this time. Eddie snaps out of whatever haze he was in when you ask shyly, “do I get to know what’s on todays agenda now?”

He smirks, “I want to see how long you can last.”

You rack your brain trying to understand. Then it hits you, “edging?!”

“Yes,” he says with a nod. “I know it was an interest for you and I think we should try it today.”

You stay silent.

“What are you thinking? Talk to me Y/N.”

“I-“ you pause. “How? I mean, with what?”

“Just my hands,” he smiles at your sudden shyness. His eyes trained on your lips as you pull your lower one between your teeth.

“Ok.”

“Yes? I need a solid yes or no, sweetheart.”

“Yes, Eddie.”

He smiles and settles himself in his bed, on his side with one hand propping his head up and his back to the wall. “Come here,” he says patting the open space beside him. “But take off your underwear and bra first.”

You do as he says and lie down beside him, flat on your back with your face turned toward him. Your eyes meeting his sweet brown ones.

“You know your limits. We’re going to use lights for this okay. What are they?”

“Green means keep going, yellow means slow down, red means stop.”

“Good girl,” he coos. “How are you right now? What color?”

You breathe deeply, thankful for the addition of praise. You talked about that a few weeks in to this. “Green,” you say lightly.

“Talk to me okay? Tell me how you’re feeling.”

All you can do is nod your head. Anticipation and nerves running high, your body erupts in goosebumps as soon as Eddies warm hand runs over your stomach. He lazily runs his fingertips across your tum, and down towards your core. Your thighs open wider for him.

“Green,” you let out with a breath.

“That’s my girl.”

His hand dips between your thighs, middle and pointer finger running through your wet folds.

“So wet for me already? What has you dripping like this?”

“You,” you sigh as his fingers stroke through your folds again, teasing at your weeping hole. “You, Eddie.”

Eddie groans and his dick twitches in his boxers. He’s growing hard from your admission and how vulnerable you’re willing to be for him. He hopes he can hold out long enough to see this through.

“Babygirl, you’re so good to me.”

At the pet name, your hole clenches around nothing, his fingers beginning to work at your engorged clit. Eddie rubs slow and fast circles over your sensitive bud as he watches your face change in pleasure. You feel a tightness start in your lower stomach.

He kisses your bare shoulder, “look at me Y/N.”

You struggle, the pleasure shooting through you overwhelming your senses, but you open your eyes to look at him.

“Play with your tits while I touch you.”

Your eyes go wide but you nod. Bringing your hands up to squeeze and knead at your breasts. As you move to tweak your nipples, Eddie moves his fingers from your clit and slips one inside your cunt.

The gasp that falls from your lips is music to his ears. He continues to watch as you pinch and roll your hardened nipples, reveling in how your pussy clenches around him with every pinch of your sensitive buds.

He thrusts his finger into you at a slow pace, reaching that sweet spot but barely caressing it with the tip of his finger. “How are you?”

You don’t respond, head still turned towards him, eyes closed in ecstasy. He removes his hand at your lack of communication and you whine at the loss, cold air hitting your pussy where his hand was keeping you warm, walls clenching around nothing.

“Eddie,” you breath out.

“What color, Y/N?” “Green, so so green.”

He laughs lightly and palms your warm cunt before slipping two fingers in this time. You let out a soft fuck and arch your back. Your hands go back to kneading and giving attention to your sore tits. Eddie works his fingers in and out of you at a faster, more eager pace, thumb coming to rest on and rub at your clit.

The coil in your belly tightens all the more. Eddie feels the flutter of your walls and he pulls his fingers from you.

You mewl, and nudge the arm his head is resting on with your nose. “Eddie.”

“I know honey, I know you were close,” he pulls his fingers to his lips and sucks them into his mouth. Tasting your sweetness for the first time today, he groans. “Always so fucking sweet.”

You watch him as he licks his fingers that were just inside you and your legs move to close and create pressure where you need it.

“Ah ah ah,” he tuts, hooking his top leg over the thigh closest to him and keeping you open. You whine again but he swallows it with a kiss. He pulls back and your lips chase his. He trails wet kisses down your neck and shoulder, leaning over enough to lick a stripe over your breast and take a nipple into his mouth. You gasp, hands moving to his hair to keep him close to your chest. He moves from your nipple to the top of your breast, kissing as he moves but stopping to nip and bite and mark you.

When he notices your breathing level out again, his hand trails back down to your core, repeating his ministrations from the first round until you’re writhing under him. Walls fluttering around his fingers, he pulls away. This time you cry out, hips bucking up trying to chase his touch.

“Color?”

“Please.”

“Color, Y/N.”

“Fuck, I don’t know, I just want you, please.” Your head is getting fuzzy with need and you can’t think straight. You just want Eddie’s hands on you, fingers in you, mouth on you, cock in you, something.

“Baby, you know what you need to do to get my touch.”

“Green,” you huff. He can tell you’re getting antsy, chasing a high he won’t let you have, but he also knows when you’re truly done. When you’re really overstimulated and recoiling from his touch instead of chasing it.

“Good girl.”

After heady kisses, trails of hickeys and hands on tits, his hand moves to your cunt again. Fingers pumping faster, hitting the spot that has you squirming and trying to fuck yourself on his fingers. Bringing you just to the precipice, before removing his hand for the third time that evening. It feels like you’ve been here for hours, begging for his touch, for release.

There are tears in your eyes as you let out a breathy, “green. Please.”

He kisses your tears away before meeting your lips with his. You open to him, all tongue and teeth. When you pull away to breathe again you meet his brown eyes, soft and full of lust. Both of you are looking at each other with so much desire and reverence as he runs his hand up and down your body, from your stomach to your collarbone that’s now littered with hickeys from his last attack to your lips and neck. Your breathing alines with his and he lets his hand trail lower.

“You’re doing so good for me sweetheart. So so good,” he moves his fingers slowly through your folds with his praise. Fingers moving first to your clit, puffy and sensitive and begging for a release. Eddie rubs circles into your nub before pinching it which elicits a mixture of a moan and scream from your throat. He groans and says what he’s been thinking for the last few months, “I don't want anybody else touching you like I do.”

You can hear him but can’t respond, throat closed in pleasure.

“Is it okay? That I don't want anybody else touching you like I do? Tell me that nobody else touches you like I do. Tell me that nobody else touches you like me.”

He continues to rub and tweak your clit faster and harder until you move to push his hand away. He pulls back entirely. “Color?” He asks before looking to your face. You’re actively crying from the overstimulation and edging. “Baby? Y/N?”

“I-I can’t do it anymore, I can’t go any further. Red.”

His heart squeezes. He hates to see you in any sort of pain, even if it was from too much pleasure. “Okay baby, that’s okay.”

He pulls your body closer to him and strokes your hair to try and calm you down.

You’re overwhelmed. From his hands, from the edging, from his confession. Your breathing slows as Eddie kisses your forehead.

“Y/N?”

You meet his eyes.

“Can I help you get what you need? Can I help you finish?” He asks with so much sincerity and care.

You nod, “please.” Eyes going watery again from the build-up of pressure in your belly. It’s withered but still lingers, an ache you know won’t go away until you cum.

He smiles softly at you, “I know we haven’t done it yet, but can I use my mouth?” He asks eagerly. “It’ll be the softest way to get you there.”

“You want to-to eat me out?” You question. He knows no-one has ever gone down on you before. You mentioned it months ago after you gave him a blowjob that he said ‘was so amazing, lemme return the favor.’

He nods, “please, baby. I want you to finish on my tongue.”

You nod and his smile grows wide. He moves down the bed from his position beside you, settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You feel his warm breath fan over your wet, aching cunt and hiss at the feeling, your puffy lips so sensitive from Eddies earlier onslaught of pleasure.

“Color?”

“Green, Eddie, please make me cum. I need it.” You whine.

With that, Eddie dips his head to your pussy. He flattens his tongue against you licks up your folds. You moan and your hands find leverage in his hair. You pull him against you to keep him close to your core, overwhelmed by the pleasure and new feeling of his mouth on your most intimate parts.

His soft, wet, warm tongue catches your throbbing clit, running circles around it until he sucks on it. You arch your back at the pleasure, hands pulling him closer to your cunt, smothering him in your wet folds.

He continues his assault on your clit before kissing his way down to your weeping hole. You clench around his tongue as he thrusts it into your pussy. Eddies hips move of their own accord, humping the bedsheets below him at the same pace he moves his tongue in and out of you. He pulls out his tongue and circles your hole before pushing back in you pull on his hair at the sensation. He moans into you and you feel it everywhere. It reverberates through your entire body, nipples hardening, toes curling, heart racing.

His nose puts pressure on your clit as he continues to eat you out, tongue thrusting into your cunt at a ruthless pace until your walls start to flutter around the wet muscle. It hits you like a freight train. The coil snaps and all the built-up pressure releases.

“Eddie!” You scream his name and close your thighs around his head as you cum in spurts onto his tongue. Your legs shake around his head as more and more of your slick coats Eddies tongue, lips, and chin with the shockwaves that continue to hit you.

Eddie keeps eating you out through your prolonged orgasm, reveling in how much you’ve given him. Your legs drop open and the hands in his hair push him away from your aching cunt. He kisses his way up your stomach and chest before moving beside you.

You reach your hand towards Eddies clothed cock wanting to help satisfy him like he did you. Squeezing him through his boxers you sigh when you feel the wetness on his front. “You came?”

“Same time as you actually. I told you before that I can get off on just eating pussy,” he lets out a breathy laugh. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

He smiles, “understandable. Bath or a shower?”

“Bath, I don’t think I can stand right now,” you laugh.

“Your wish is my command.”

Eddie removes himself from the bed and take off his soiled boxers on his way to his bathroom. You hear the water start running and a few minutes later hear it stop. Eddie comes back into the room, and picks you up bridal style out of bed. He walks you to the bathroom and sits you in the tub first before climbing in behind you.

Pulling you back into his chest you lay together in the tub in silence for a bit. Eddie’s hands run softly over your arms and stomach as he peppers kisses to the back of your neck and shoulders.

You’re the one to break the silence.

“Did you mean it?”

Eddie stopped his motions, “mean what?”

“What you said before I called red. About not wanting-,” you pause, nervous that it was said in the heat of the moment and not intentionally. “About not wanting anyone else to touch me?”

He’s silent for a bit, his hands finding a resting place on your stomach. “Is that something you want?”

“Eddie, please answer me,” you say, tears threatening to fall for the second time that night. “I can’t-I-”

“Hey hey hey, Y/N, Y/N don’t cry please, I’m sorry,” Eddie says frantically hands finding and squeezing yours under the bath water. “Yes, I meant it. I don’t want anyone else touching you like I do, I want you to myself.”

“Really?” You let out with a hiccup.

Eddie puts his hand under your chin to turn you around and face him. “Yes, Y/N. I’ve wanted to say that for months now. I just didn’t know how you would take it. If you would want it too.” His eyes search yours for an answer to his worry.

“Eddie,” you coo, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Truth be told, I’ve had a crush on you for a while. I don’t think I could ever find anyone that touches me like you. I don’t want to find someone to touch me like you. I want you.” 

“You’re so perfect, how did I not realize I needed you sooner? How were you under my nose the whole time but it took a stupid idea from my horny brain to make me see that?”

He hugs you closer to him in the water and you sit together in the bath until your fingers and toes are get pruny. You get out and dry each other off and Eddie brings you a t-shirt to wear to bed. Your legs are still weak and wobbly, so he picks you up and places you in bed. Eddie crawls in beside you in just boxers and you fall asleep in his arms, happy.

#that was a lot #i hope you enjoyed #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #st4 #stranger things fandom #stranger things fanfic #stranger things one shot #stranger things oneshot #stranger things smut

[not-poignant]

we know that alex has been in love for a long time but what about sebastian? he makes me so confused lol

i’m always wondering about what’s going on in his mind

Okay, so, I'm happy to talk about this! But it is kind of spoilery so like gird your loins or whatever :D

Sebastian has not had any romantic feelings for Alex at all. Ever.

He's never really thought about him sexually, and when he has he's kind of been grossed out because he can only really imagine Alex in heterosexual situations (that might be changing, but slowly, lol). He's concealing no secret feelings or anything like that.

He is however growing genuine feelings of friendship and care, and there's definitely potential for him to grow more (otherwise this story wouldn't work).

But there's no 'mutual pining' here or anything. Alex was completely alone in his love for Sebastian. Not only that, but Sebastian didn't even realise he was gay until he met Martingale (at least that's the working theory I have so far, we'll see when it comes to writing it). Not only is Alex gay, he's known it about himself for actually a lot longer than Sebastian has about himself.

Sebastian has a strong sense of internal justice when it comes to being paid fairly and being treated well for work. This is pulled directly from the canon. In the very first cut scene we ever have with Sebastian, he's pissed off that his mother and Abigail don't take his work seriously, and you also have the option of respecting / not respecting his work. So this is pretty foundational to his character. It's the first thing he ever opens up to you about. So that's definitely influenced some of his behaviour in A Stain that Won't Dissolve.

But it's not like Sebastian offered Alex the cleaning job, Alex actually had to put himself forward and then really push for it, because Sebastian's initial response was no / that's not a good idea.

I honestly think the thing that really opens Sebastian's mind to the idea that Alex could be someone he's attracted to, is learning that one of his guy friends hits on Alex (which is coming in a couple of chapters).

But yeah, much of Alex's love would have been received as extremely unrequited, and Alex has also known that. It's why he doesn't try to like... subtly 'seduce' Sebastian. He just wants to be closer to him. He hopes at best for friendship and doesn't expect even that much. He doesn't think about his infatuation with Sebastian as anything more than something he has to deal with privately for the rest of his life, like a burden his brain made him carry and he can't make himself stop.

On that front, he's actually pretty accurate in his assessment of Sebastian as being not attracted to him, or at least not personally interested in him (I think Sebastian could be attracted to Alex - I mean he obviously will come to be - but has ruled Alex out due to him just being a straight dickhead, lol). The reason it's hard to tell what Sebastian's thinking on that front is because Sebastian isn't really engaging on that front.

I don't think Sebastian has any idea that Alex is gay, that Alex could be into him, anything like that. Alex has done a good job of hiding it from everyone, which many people who fear for their lives re: their sexualities do actually get pretty good at, especially in country towns. Especially if you know your family wouldn't have approved, or worry about it.

Sebastian definitely isn't like... secretly aware of this stuff, and he's not secretly concealing feelings towards Alex. Sebastian's story is a slow burn towards growing attraction. Alex's story is unrequited love for way too long.

Also, Sebastian finding out Alex is gay, Sebastian finding out Alex might be attracted to him, and Sebastian finding out that Alex is in love with him, are all going to be three completely separate realisations!

#asks and answers #a stain that won't dissolve #thespectaclesofthor #sdv fic #sdv alex #sdv sebastian #sdv sebastian x alex #as of writing this response #i have actually written the first realisation #and a little bit of the second one lol #but the love thing? #i mean alex is aware enough to know that if he told sebastian this #sebastian would probably reject him for it #and like boy he's not wrong fdslakjfdsa sebastian will need time #to consider something like that #esp after being burned in marriage

[electricbluebutterflies]

Chris/Melissa + collecting fir branches for decoration

Yes I did write Christmas fic in January, this is my life somehow. I've never made wreaths before but if my brother's future ex-wife can do it, how hard could that be? Just a few months post-6B, PG-ish, and also on ao3.

This has got to be one of the weirder things he’s been talked into.

Chris is trying to approach the mundane outsider world with as much open-mindedness as he’s capable of, but half a lifetime of cultural separation makes for a lot of bizarrely petty complications sometimes. Take holidays, for instance. All of those are new – there are certain yearly rituals he practiced within hunter culture, yes, but nothing remotely comparable to mainstream consumer-oriented enthusiasm. But he is not in that world anymore, and he is trying not to be difficult for anyone else but there are definitely elements he doesn’t get, and-

The entire month of December, apparently, is a parade of things that might’ve made sense to someone at some point in time but don’t now, and for some reason he’s getting dragged into all of them.

It does not help that this silent confusion coincides with an effort to be a good… he’s not even sure what the right word is, if there’s an adequate term for the recent change in dynamic. There is something between himself and Melissa, something involving quite a bit of kissing and holding her but not formal enough that the kids have said anything about it yet. The recent memory of avoiding her for the entire summer because he hadn’t realized she had feelings about him still hangs heavy over them, and a few months after that got resolved, he’s trying to do better. Trying to indirectly figure out what she wants out of a partner and be more than she’s ever had – he’s known for years how low that bar is, and for the most part his little efforts have been well within what he’d want to do anyways. Trying…

If she wants help gathering decorations in the wild, as strange of an idea as that sounds to him, it’s not a bad way to spend an afternoon. Easy enough to combine with the monthly-ish sensor check – not that that’s the only reason he’s agreed to this, she hasn’t outright accused him but he’s starting to learn her reactions and how she shows disappointment in particular – and try to convince himself, for an hour or two, that he can actually do this normal-people thing.

“Remind me, why exactly are we doing this?” he asks at some point that feels midway through the outing. Gathering specific branches from the woods is at least more cost-effective than blow-up snowmen, he supposes, but sometimes he doesn’t even know where to start with what he knows are stupid questions and-

“I’m going to make wreaths,” Melissa replies as she leans down to inspect another fallen branch. “I haven’t had a good reason to do that in years, and I figure… I don’t think there’s any species that has a specific aversion to pine, is there?”

He has to think for a moment, and he hates that he has to think about it. “Not that we currently deal with?” He knows that much offhand, he’ll have to look that up later, it’s definitely a ward against something but he’s pretty sure not anything one would be likely to encounter on this part of the continent and-

“Let me know if you remember otherwise,” she says with the sort of curious patience that made him wonder about her a year ago when she first realized he was willing to help her. There had been a healing process in it, taking everything he knows about the wildness of the world and learning alongside her how to use it to protect instead of harm. This is what they are building themselves out of, and-

“Will you need help with…”

Melissa laughs and it’s one of the prettiest things he’s ever heard, light and solid at the same time. “You are actually asking me if I want help with a craft project,” she processes, shaking her head and curls flying everywhere. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

There’s such a sweetness in how she says things like that, how clear she makes it that she appreciates his presence. That too should feel like more of an adjustment than it is, but compared to everything else…

“The boys did mention power tools would be involved…”

“Not necessarily. Do I need to elaborate on why I decided on a don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy regarding chainsaws?”

Chris can only imagine what kind of disaster she’s alluding to, and if he ever needs to know that story he’ll probably hear a different version of it at a less than ideal time. He gets a sense that certain core dynamics have been waiting a long time for someone to fit the places he does, and that’s not always comforting, and-

“So how do you… do this, then?”

“Zip ties and superglue. I know you know how to use at least one of those, so…” With that, Melissa finds another acceptable-looking branch and adds it to the pile in his arms. “We only need a few more, okay? Like I said, it’s been a bit, and I’m not sure how many I’m even making, but…”

“Lead the way.”

#ebf writes fic #mcargent #chris x melissa #queue

[whosscruffylooking]

Bad Bounty Chapter One: Reunion

Sergeant Hunter x Fem! Bounty Hunter

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Maybe mutual pining? Nothing too gross.

A/N: hunter was already attractive in season 7, but i managed to suppress my feelings for an ANIMATED character. alas, the bad batch has cursed me and i have finally accepted that he is my latest comfort character.

“You hold onto friends by keeping your heart a little softer than your head.”

“Clone Force 99. Welcome back, ” Commander Cody extends a hand to Hunter who firmly shakes it.

“Apologies for showing up late, we-”

“Got stuck handling some unexpected complications during a mission. I understand Sergeant Hunter,” Cody winks.

“What have you got for us this time Commander?” Crosshair mumbles, twisting his toothpick around between his teeth.

“This one is going to be a bit different boys. It’s not exactly…sanctioned by the GAR. Let’s call it a favor for an old friend of mine.”

Crosshair straightens up, suspicious of Cody’s statement, “We may bend the rules from time to time, but we don’t do favors.”

“This is an efficient mission that ultimately will aid us in the war, provide you some easy target practice…and helps me relieve an old debt I have to pay.”

“Is there a reason you can’t do this yourself?” Hunter questions.

“We’ve been called into battle. Besides, this separatist encampment is one we have failed to infiltrate time and time again,” Cody responds.

Hunter shifts, struggling to comprehend where this is going, “What does attacking a separatist encampment have to do with repaying a debt?”

“There is a Senator stationed on Drahgor III…a corrupt senator at that. One who has a significant bounty on his head. My dear old friend is a bounty hunter I met on Ord Mantell. Your job will be to take out the clankers and retrieve any data you can from the main database. Meanwhile, my bounty hunter friend will secure the bounty and you’ll go your separate ways.”

“Who is this Bounty Hunter?” Crosshair inquires.

“Glad you asked,” Cody exclaims, “Y/N!”

The clone troopers twirl around to see you approaching them. Your manner is conservative yet confident. One thing you have become an expert at is never striving for attention. Instead, your presence demands it.

You nod at the troopers, “Clone Force 99, it is a pleasure to be working with you.”

Surveying the team, your eyes first fall on Crosshair. His distrusting look reaffirms the defense you raised long before wandering onto the landing platform.

Gotta keep an eye on that one.

Next, you glance over to Wrecker. A massive lug of a man, but he has the noticeable demeanor of a gentle giant. Something about him reminds you of a plush toy you once owned as a child.

Tech catches your attention next. He is clearly the intuitive one. He will either be a pain to deal with, or a beneficial asset.

At last, your eyes meet Hunter’s. Such a tiny gesture of nothingness feels like you’ve just been thrust into a timeless world of something far more significant. You quickly dismiss your gaze, but soon find your eyes wandering back to him. His eyes are already on you.

Tech quickly picks up on your silent interaction and nudges Hunter to break him of his trance. Hunter quickly snaps out of it and clears his throat. He is dumbstruck by his response. His heart beats recklessly.

Taking note of his counterpart’s vitals, Tech is left unsettled by the quickening of Hunter’s heart rate. “Hunter, I need you to focus on your breathing. Your heart rate is abnormally high.”

Setting your sight once more on the rugged clone trooper, you catch the ever-changing hue of his cheek…the one that isn’t covered in dark ink. A hint of red paints his untouched skin.

He clears his throat, “Erm-thank you for alerting me Tech. I’ll be aboard the ship.”

Cody shrugs his shoulders at you, “I guess you’ll brief them on the ship. Have a safe trip.”

“Thank you Cody, ” you clap him on the shoulder and follow the rogue crews lead onto their ship.

++++

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝙳𝚊𝚢

“Where are we going to go? We need somewhere we can set up camp that isn’t easily tracked, ” Echo declares.

“There is one place I can think of, but I’m not sure that Hunter will be a fan of the location, ” Tech announces apprehensively.

Hunter lets out a groan and tightens his fist.

Wrecker laughs, “Hunter doesn’t like this idea! Which means I like it even more!”

Glaring at Wrecker, Hunter abruptly stands and stomps off into the cockpit.

“Where is it?” Echo inquires. He leans in, intrigued by the atmosphere that has suddenly befallen the Marauder.

“Let’s just say…we’d have to get help from an old friend.”

“Ha! An old friend!?” Wrecker blurts out, “Try an old fla-”

“That’s enough, ” Hunter commands, having regained his composure, “We will attempt to make contact this evening and if we have no response by the morning, we will seek out other options.”

++++

All night Hunter stayed up, much to the dismay of his crewmates, awaiting an incoming communication. His mind told him that it would never come through; his heart made him believe…or at least hope otherwise.

He stretches his arms into the air, releasing a hardy yawn. Tech enters the cockpit, “Anything?”

“Nothing, ” Hunter responds with a hint of despair clouding his words.

Just then, a muffled echo transmits through the comms unit. Hunter nearly falls out of the captain’s chair as he scrambles to the commlink.

“This is Phoenix 178095 trying to contact Clone Force 99. I repeat, this is Phoenix 1780-“

“Copy Phoenix 178095, this is Clone Force 99,” Hunter announces almost frantically.

The only response is silence…until, “Hunter? Hunter, is that you?”

The rugged clones grasp on the comlink tightens, and he touches it to his forehead. His eyes are locked shut, his breath unsteady.

“Yes. It’s me.”

You hear his guttural voice and suddenly, your memories which you’ve strived to suppress come flooding back, knocking the wind out of you.

Attempting to swallow the lump that insists on crowding your throat, you press down the transmitter button, but fail to express your thoughts.

“What?” A menacing voice echoes out, “Lothcat got your tongue?”

You chuckle, pressing the comlink to your forehead, “well if it isn’t my favorite piston head.” Piston head, a nickname you have used to refer to Crosshair for as long as you can remember. You find it fitting because term is in reference to a droid, similar to the droid-like manner in which Crosshair carries himself.

“So!” Shouts a third, brooding and somewhat childish voice, “Are we bunking with you or what?”

“Yes Wrecker, you are more than welcome to stay here.”

“Thank you, ” Hunter softly says into the comm’s mic. His voice still brings warmth to your soul, although the communicator slightly alters it.

“Get here safely.”

“Always do.”

“I know, ” you affirm and disconnect the commlink.

Looking around at the empty room, which mere seconds ago was filled with the sound of your closest friends’ voices, you feel once again plagued by loneliness.

It has been nearly three years since you last spoke to them. Choosing to once again shove your feelings down deep inside you, rather than let the pain consume you, you prepare for their arrival.

++++

“Maybe one day we will meet again, when all of this is over. Perhaps then we will have the freedom to say all that we have long held in, ” you exhaust yourself in the effort to fight back the words that are bottled up inside of you.

A void and emotionless, expression spans across his face as he finally acknowledges the weight of the moment. A single tear threatens to spill over, and he clenches his fist to fight back the giant hole that is forming in his heart.

“Y/N, ” he utters, “I-”

“Hunter! It’s time for us to go, ” Tech calls out.

++++

Your entire body jerks to a standstill when you hear the hum of their ship landing.

Hunter feels a sudden sickening sensation throughout his body.

“Deep breaths, brother. You don’t want your little reunion to be overruled by sweaty palms and rosy cheeks, ” Crosshair teases.

Hunter groans, “We are here for a short period of time until we can safely get back to Kamino. Until then, this is strictly business as usual.”

“Whatever you say Hunter,” he flicks his toothpick into the garbage receptacle with perfect aim.

The leader of the clone force, known for being courageous, daring, and valiant has abruptly shifted to a timid and uncertain man. But that’s just it. He felt like a man. A feeling only familiar when around you. Every other day of the rotation, he is merely a defective clone—a misfit who despite his enhanced abilities, is thrown into combat, aware of the fact that he is completely dispensable. Because he is merely one of hundreds of thousands of others just like him, he feels like he is just another carbon copy dispersed off of a factory line. Yet, around you, he never felt that way.

He watches out the cockpit window and sees you emerge from your homestead. His heart somersaults.

“Shall we disembark Hunter?” Tech asks.

He nods.

You are so lost in your thoughts that you hardly notice the troopers exiting their ship. It isn’t until Wrecker has scooped you up into his arms that you are jostled back to reality.

“Wreck!” You cry out in excitement as you wrap your arms around him.

Crosshair lends you a wink that you flirtatiously mirror. It’s always fun seeing him fight back a cheeky grin.

Tech is clearly holding back, so you eagerly close the distance between you two and envelope him in your arms. Initially, he hesitates but rapidly works up the bravery to reciprocate.

Chuckling at his hold on you, you tease, “I don’t know who gives the stronger hugs! You, or Wrecker.” He quickly releases you and straightens his glasses.

“Who’s this?” You motion towards the pale, almost sickly-looking clone. In fact, he looks more like a machine than a clone.

“I’m Echo, ” he extends his hand to you. Accepting it, you introduce yourself in return.

Hunter appears from behind the group. Suddenly, you lose the ability to think straight, let alone speak. His eyes meet yours and you share a somber smile. Each taking a step toward each other, you close the distance between you. Unable to resist any longer, you throw your arms around him, drawing him tightly to you.

For a moment, he stands frozen. Hunter has imagined the feeling of taking you into his arms again more than he would like to admit. At last, he pushes his thoughts aside and encircles your waist with his strong embrace.

You can feel his heartbeat slowly accelerate; at least your heart isn’t the only one threatening to beat out of your chest. You seemingly melt into each other. His hands softly tracing circles on your lower back.

Knowing that this moment cannot last as long as you’d both like, you hesitantly pull away from him. His hands grip at your hips as if he is begging you to not stray from his grasp. Your heart yearns to pull him back into your embrace and to stay there with him forever.

Becoming aware of the world around you once again, you feel your face flush into a crimson red.

“Why are they just standing there like that?” Wrecker leans down to whisper to Tech.

“Sometimes, the most important messages do not need to be said with words,” he responds softly.

#the bad batch #bad batch #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x y/n #sergeant hunter x you #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter imagine #hunter x reader #hunter imagine #hunter x y/n #hunter x you #bad batch fanfic #bad batch imagine #the bad batch imagine #the bad batch fic #bad batch x reader #bad batch x you #bad batch x y/n #the bad batch x you #the bad batch x reader #tech x you #tech x reader #crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #wrecker x reader #wrecker x you #echo x reader #echo x you #the clone wars x reader #the clone wars imagine

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

F*cking up the friendship

Word count: 3501

Genre: Angst and fluff

Pairing: Wanda x Natasha x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol (let me know if I need to add any)

Summary: You sometimes forget Nat and Wanda are dating each other but when they go off on a date you feel sad and add alcohol to the mix, unable to fully control your words around them when they come back.

A/n: I’ve been in a huge wandanat x reader mood recently so you’re probably going to get spammed with a lot of these. Originally this was supposed to be a 1k words get together fluff fic that was suggested to me but then I added angst and other stuff so I decided to make the fluffy get together fic separately. Anyways I hope you all enjoy this, I spent hours yesterday writing so I could finish it in one day. 

You sigh loudly as you flip through Netflix, finding nothing interesting to watch. Usually on a Friday night you would be doing something with Wanda and Nat but today they had told you they had a special date planned so you haven’t seen them at all. It was a completely horrible idea to fall in love with your two best friends who happened to be dating each other but your heart betrayed your brain and now you were stuck in this situation, finding it impossible to get over the two most amazing women you had ever met. Spending nearly all your time with them did not help and everyday you feel your heart break a little when they kiss each other in greeting but only give you a smile. You know you should be thankful for their friendship, and you are, but it also pains you to know that there can never be more. 

You imagine what it would be like to share kisses and wake up wrapped in their arms. One time when you had fallen asleep on the couch after staying up late watching movies with them Natasha had carried you to bed and tucked you in and Wanda had said goodnight with a kiss on your forehead. You never talked about that night because you had pretended to be asleep but you replay it over and over in your mine, wishing that it wasn’t a one time thing. They are so strong, so kind, so smart and just so amazing in every possible way. It’s fitting that they are together but it also sucks to have to watch the perfect people have a perfect relationship while you pine silently, always trying to be a supportive friend. 

You try to think positive thoughts but you can’t help but wonder what they could be doing now which ruins your mood. Nothing on Netflix looks good to watch by yourself with nobody to make fun of cringy rom-coms with or to hide your face in during horror movies. It’s almost scary how much time you’ve spent with them recently and how reliant you’ve come to be on it. Come to think of it you can’t remember the last time they went on a proper date and you start to wonder if by watching movies with them you were actually intruding upon their alone time. You hope they would have been honest and told you if you were but they have always been nothing but nice to you so it’s possible they just didn’t want to hurt your feelings. 

Giving up on watching altogether you throw the remote aside carelessly, wincing when it bounces off the couch and hits the floor with a bang, and stand up. Making your way out of the living room and over to the room where the mini bar is you push all the thoughts from your mind, focusing only on the fact that you really need a drink right now. You don’t bother to turn the lights on when you enter the room, heading straight for the bottles and pouring some whiskey into a glass, much more than a recommended size. 

Sitting down on the couch you take a gulp. It burns and tastes disgusting, you’ve never been one for drinking but tonight you enjoy the feeling, not drinking for pleasure but drinking to hopefully forget. It takes about an hour before your thoughts get all muddled and you feel more relaxed. You slowly start to close your eyes and drift off to sleep when you are woken suddenly by a thump and a stream of curse words. You startle and your hand jerks spilling the rest of your drink all over your lap. 

Natasha and Wanda are standing a few feet in front of you. Natasha is looking at you with an expression you can’t recognize in your inebriated state and Wanda is clutching her foot, looking darkly at the leg of the coffee table. 

“Shit.” You mumble loudly, both at spilling your drink and at seeing them while drunk. This wasn’t supposed to happen, they were supposed to still be gone and now you’ve just embarrassed yourself completely in front of them. 

“Hey, Y/n,” Natasha is at your side in an instant, cupping your face in her hands, “let’s get you cleaned up okay?”

Wanda is there a second later, hovering. “And then maybe you could tell us what’s wrong.”

“Nothhhing’s wrong.” You slur, standing up. “Goodnight.”

“No no no, you’re not going anywhere by yourself right now.” Natasha tells you firmly, grabbing your arm. You don’t protest, partly because you know they are both stubborn and will always win and partly because you secretly want to spend as much time with them as possible. 

“Listen to Nat,” Wanda advises, “can you walk?”

“I can walk.” You say, crossing your arms and trying to look serious

Natasha raises an eyebrow, doing a horrible job at stifling her laughter for a spy. “Show me then.”

You take a few steps forward, looking triumphantly at Natasha before you stumble, arms flailing out and grabbing Wanda to prevent yourself from falling. Wanda helps pull you back up straight and kisses you on the forehead.

“I think the correct answer to the question is no.” She tells you amused. “Let me help you.” 

She doesn’t wait for a response and hooks an arm underneath your shoulders to help support your weight. You lean into her and match her steps, frowning when Natasha hurries away in front instead of walking with you.

“She’s just going ahead to grab something.” Wanda whispers, noticing your expression. You feel your entire body shiver from the sound of her whisper in your ear. Luckily she doesn’t mention it and just tightens her grip around you and continues until you’ve reached their shared room.

You stare at the door in confusion. “What are we doing here?”

“Did you really think we would leave you alone when you’re drunk and obviously upset about something?” She asks rhetorically. “We want to take care of you.”

You’re glad she’s holding you up otherwise you’re afraid you would have melted to the floor from her words alone. She pushes the door open and leads you inside. Natasha is waiting and hands you a pile of clothes. You recognize the bottoms as Wanda’s favourites and the top as Natasha’s shirt. 

“For me?” You ask, confused. She had handed them to you but maybe she actually wanted to give them to Wanda seeing as it’s their stuff.

“Yes for you silly,” she says smiling, “are you able to change by yourself in the bathroom?” You nod, feeling slightly more sober now.

“Okay just be careful and call if you need us.” Wanda tells you before stepping away from your side. You already miss her warmth but you pretend to be unaffected and head into the bathroom to change. 

It takes longer than usual, in part because you accidentally tried to put both legs in the same hole at first, but you managed to undress and put the pajamas on. They’re soft and smell like a mixture of them and you will deny it if asked but you hold the shirt up to your nose and breathe it in before realizing how weird that is. Walking back out of the room you shift nervously, unsure of what to do with both Natasha and Wanda staring at you intently.

“Come here sweetheart.” Natasha says and you immediately comply, heart pounding at the endearment, sitting down beside her on the bed in between her and Wanda. “Do you want to tell us why you got drunk now?” You shake your head furiously, only stopping when it starts to make you nauseous. 

“No, I don’t really-” You get cut off by your own yawn, suddenly very tired. 

Wanda giggles. “Let’s get you to bed now.”

You start to pout, upset that you have to leave and go back to your room but before you can move she uses her powers to gently float up the bed to the pillows, pulling you with her. Natasha joins you and cuddles you from behind so you’re pinned between them. Your eyes feel so tired but you try to fight sleep, wanting to stay in the moment forever. 

“Goodnight Y/n.” Natasha says and you stop resisting and start to relax. 

“Night Tasha I love you.” You tell her sleepily. “I love you too Wanda.”

“Sleep well Y/n.” Wanda replies, giving you a short kiss on the top of your forehead. You feel so warm and safe between them and it only takes another minute before you’re fast asleep.

---

You try to move but something strong and warm is holding you down. Your eyes fly open and the first thing you see is Wanda’s face, inches from your own. Natasha must be behind you because you can feel her wrapped around you and her small breaths blowing the back of your head. It’s nice but you can’t remember how you got here so you wrack your brains, ignoring your headache. You were sad so instead of watching a movie you started drinking, then they found you and then they took you back here and after that-SHIT. Shit shit shit shit shit you had told them you loved them. 

You aren’t naive enough to believe they think you meant it in a platonic way, you never tell your friends you love them and Natasha and Wanda are both really smart and can easily tell what you’re thinking. You just hope that they don’t tease you about it because you don’t think you could handle anything but being let down gently. 

“What are you thinking about?” Natasha asks from behind you. You hadn’t realized she was awake already but somehow she noticed you are, she’s scary with how much she knows sometimes. As much as you know this conversation will be awkward and painful you know there’s no point in delaying it and it’s best if you have control over it. 

“That I’m sorry.” You tell her. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” She says gently, sitting up, understanding what you’re referencing. 

“No I do, I made things weird and I didn’t want to do that.” You say, hating yourself for the lump that forms in your throat. You start to untangle yourself from Wanda, trying hard not to wake her. This conversation is difficult enough with one person, if Wanda wakes up you’ll most definitely start to cry and the last thing you want is for them to feel bad or to pity you. 

“Y/n-” She starts but you interrupt her, not wanting to hear it. 

“I hope we can still be friends.” You say making your way to the door before pausing. “Please tell Wanda I’m sorry and that I need some time to myself for the day but after that I will pretend nothing happened.”

“Y/n, please-” 

This time you cut her off by closing the door. You run to your room. You don’t think she’ll try to follow and catch up with you but you don’t want to take any chances and you certainly don’t want the others to see where you’re coming from and your shame to get deeper. You are stupid, so stupid, you shouldn’t have gotten drunk and you should have kept your stupid mouth shut. Their friendship means everything to you and although Natasha didn’t seem like she would stop being friends with you over it things will definitely be awkward for a long time and you’ve seen friendships crumble because of it. 

Luckily you make it to your room without anybody noticing and you take a few breaths to calm yourself, closing your eyes. It helps for a second but when you open them again you’re looking straight into your mirror and you can see yourself wearing their clothes and immediately feel the tears start to come. You jump onto your bed and bury yourself fully under the covers, trying to stop crying because you don’t deserve to, it was your fault, and crying only makes everything worse, including your headache. 

---

Natasha shakes Wanda awake only to hear her groan and shift, attempting to fall back asleep. 

Rolling her eyes she tries again. “Wanda. Wanda. Wanda wake up.” Wanda moves slightly and lets out incoherent mumbles before waking up more and sitting straight up.

“Where’s Y/n?” She asks alarmed, remembering you were here when she fell asleep.

“That’s why I’m waking you up; she left.” Natasha tells her and Wanda frowns.

“Why?”

“Because we messed up and now she thinks we don’t love her.” Natasha explains. “She thinks that she ruined our friendship by telling us she loved us last night since we didn’t say it back and she left before I had time to correct her.”

“Oh crap.” Wanda says, thinking about how things seemed for you. From your point of view you had drunkenly confessed your feelings to people in a relationship before falling asleep with them not saying it back. 

“Yeah,” Natasha agrees, “I know we weren’t planning on doing the thing until this evening but I think we should do it now, we can’t let her be upset for any longer.” 

“You’re better at talking so you should get her while I set it up.” Wanda says and Natasha nods in agreement.

“Be as quick as possible, we will hopefully be there in ten minutes.” Natasha tells her before giving her a quick peck. Wanda sighs dreamily, imagining what it’s going to be like when she is dating both you and Natasha (provided you say yes of course but Natasha is certain you will and she trusts Natasha). 

Leaving her room Natasha quickly makes her way to yours and knocks on the door. 

“Go away.” You say and she can’t stand how sad and self loathing you sound just from those two small words.

“No,” she replies, “I need to talk to you.”

“Please.” You beg, your voice cracking in desperation. You can’t see her right now, not like this. She doesn’t listen, hating to ignore you but knowing that if she talks to you she can hopefully make it all better.

“Oh Y/n.” She sighs upon opening the door and seeing your lump under the covers. “Sweetheart it’s going to be okay.”

“No it’s not, I fucked up our friendship Nat!” You cry out, still refusing to show your face.

“No baby you didn’t.” She tells you, the endearment accidentally slipping off her tongue in her attempts to comfort you. “Please just give me a minute to explain some things.”

“Okay.” You sniffle, both confused and curious. You hate that you’re even a tiny bit hopeful at her words and you attempt to squash those thoughts down to spare as much of your heart that hasn’t already been hurt. 

“I would love to see your pretty face when I talk to you.” She prompts, gently lifting the edge of the covers. You slowly peek out of them like a turtle, well aware and slightly embarrassed of the fact that you look like you’ve been crying (which you have but it’s still embarrassing).

“There we go, that’s much better.” She tells you smiling. Even though you’re upset you can’t help but crack a wobbly smile back at her, her happiness really is infectious. She stares at your shirt as you pull more of yourself out from under the covers and you flush when you realize that you had never bothered to change and are still wearing her shirt. 

“It looks nice on you.” She says softly, reaching out to touch the hem before clearing her throat and switching into business mode. “I think you got the wrong impression.”

“I know I never should have-” You start to apologize, scared of her shift in mood. 

“That’s exactly what I mean.” She interrupts. “You seem to think that you’ve ruined our friendship by telling out how you feel but I can assure you that’s not the case at all and we are actually both extremely happy about your feelings.”

“Why isn’t Wanda here then.” You ask skeptically. 

“Because she’s in the living room where I’m supposed to bring you.” Natasha replies. “Will you come?”

“I don’t know,” you say nervously, “are you sure that…” you trail off, unsure of what else to say. 

“Y/n,” Natasha says and suddenly you’re all too aware of how close she is to you, “it will be good I promise.” 

As soon as she finishes speaking she leans in and her lips are on yours. It’s better than any of the times you’ve dreamed and it’s the perfect mix between hard and passionate but also soft and sweet.

“Wow.” You breathe when she pulls away after a few seconds, unable to think of anything else. 

She laughs. “Wanda’s going to be jealous that I got to do that before her and as much as I’d love to kiss you again we shouldn’t keep her waiting for too long.”

You nod silently and take Wanda’s hand when she offers it as she stands up and starts to walk out of the room.

“Wait,” you say just before you leave, “maybe I should change first.”

She looks over your (well technically their) clothes. “You are not changing, I like you wearing our stuff.”

You’re surprised to hear the slight possessive growl in her voice but it makes you incredibly happy. The start to this day had to be one of the worst in your life but it’s quickly becoming the best. Feeling as though you’re floating you allow her to pull you through the halls into one of the living rooms, the one you usually use for watching movies.

Wanda is sitting on the couch looking at the door when you come in but what catches your eye is the sheer amount of stuff around her. There are heaps of all your favourite candies and chips all around her and there’s a cute stuffed bear.

“Do you like it?” She asks and instead of answering you let go of Natasha’s hand and throw yourself at her, wrapping your arms around her waist tightly.

“I think that means yes.” Natasha says, laughing at your enthusiastic reaction.

“I love it,” you tell them, “I love-” You stop yourself before you tell them you love them again because even after all this you’re still not sure if that’s what they want to hear. 

“We love you too Y/n.” Wanda says and you sigh in both happiness and relief at her words. “Nat do you want to give her the thing now?”

You pull away from Wanda to look over at Natasha, curious as to what the thing is. Natasha picks up a small red jewelry box from the table that you hadn’t noticed earlier in your excitement and hands it to you. They both watch as you open it, suddenly nervous that you won’t like it.

You open it up to see a necklace with two charms on it and two charms that are identical lying beside it. Upon closer inspection you gasp, recognizing the the letter charms n and w as the same ones Natasha and Wanda wore on their necklaces, reminding them of each other. The charms lying beside it are the first letter of your name, presumably for them to add to their necklace. You feel yourself tear up at how sweet and thoughtful this gesture is. 

Wanda breaks the silence first. “This is what we were doing yesterday and it took all day because they were custom made so we wanted it done by the same person so it would look the same. We thought it would be nice for us to give you this when we officially asked you out so you don’t feel like an outsider or anything because we really like you and want things to go well.”

“What she’s trying to say is will you go out with us.” Natasha says, halting Wanda’s rambling. 

Wanda smiles sheepishly. “What she said.”

You slowly look up, careful not to let any tears fall and launch yourself into their arms, pulling whatever part of them you are holding towards you. 

“I think you already know the answer by now but I would love to.” You say, still trying to get as close to them as possible. They wrap their arms around you tightly and moving together they lift you a few steps to the couch and plop you down, sitting and cuddling on either side of you.

“Today’s movie day and we’ll take you on a proper date tomorrow.” Natasha promises and you hum happily in reply. You don’t care at all about what type of dates you go on or even if you go on them at all because you’re dating the two most amazing women in the world and that’s a high you’re going to be riding for a long time, possibly forever.

---

Taglist: @cherryblossomskye @aaron-despair @thewidowsghost @nyx-aira @stephanieromanoff @stop-drop-and-drumroll @peggycarter-steverogers @casperlikej @redswing​ @mxxnmocha​ @king-star​ 

#natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader #wandanat #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #marvel fanfiction #x reader

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Final (Part 10.5)

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Angst / (Eventual) Smut 18+

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers / unresolved sexual tension / penetrative sex / handjob / a mercy nut / oral sex / unprotected sex

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9 , Part 10 , FINAL Part 10.5

“Hi Bug,” he said.

“Did you eat?” He was speaking before his eyes made it back up into your face and it took you five whole seconds before your brain processed his question enough for you to manage a meager back and forth head shake as a response.

“We should eat.” Baekhyun stood up and walked the long way around the coffee table toward the kitchen, avoiding the space you occupied as he moved.

Eating was a good idea. It was getting late. Eating would give you something to do that wasn’t daydream about the way his thighs filled out his jeans and how strong his lap must feel to sit on top of.

You followed behind him into the kitchen. The wide galley layout afforded you with plenty of space to pass behind him without actually having to touch him but the urge was just too strong to resist. The cat was already out of the bag.

He was pulling out a frying pan, a cutting board and a knife as you passed behind him to move toward the fridge and you reached for him with your fingertips as you moved, trailing lightly over the wide expanse of his back from one broad shoulder to the other.

You looked back at him when your hand ran out of his back to touch and you caught the focus of his brown eyes that glanced up at yours and the smile on his face that he didn't try to hide. Cute. Oh god. Cute.

“What are we having, Peanut?”

You were standing in front of the open fridge and you wondered how unfair it would be to bend over to reach into the bottom vegetable drawer with him watching you like you knew he was. You pulled the drawer open and grabbed a few things trying not to think too much as you did it. If he looked, he looked. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen you at home wearing not nearly enough clothing.

When you looked back at him, Baekhyun’s eyes were, impossibly, focused up high, on the contents of the fridge. He hadn’t been staring at your ass as you bent over, imaging taking you here in this kitchen in front of the open refrigerator. Of course he wouldn't. Baekhyun would never waste that much electricity. The fridge was fancy and had an alarm that rang when the door was left open for too long and the one time — the one(!!) time you’d let the door stay open long enough for the alarm to ring was because you’d dropped a sauce bottle on the floor and had been cleaning up the mess. The alarm started to ring and the man rushed into the kitchen just to shoot you a look so dirty you felt as if you were the mess that needed cleaning up; as if you had personally been the one holding the baseball bat and had been caught clubbing the baby seals. He was insane. He was crazy. God, you loved him.

He lifted a finger to point to something on the top shelf and you reached for the container you saw there. You felt the cool air of the fridge along the bare skin of your stomach when you reached up high and you remembered why you rarely wore this shirt. It was just too flowy and too prone to malfunctions such as this. Your eyes searched for his again and the man had turned around to mess with his stupid cutting board. He wasn't human.

Your mood and your desperation were mounting. You weren’t going to make it. You were going to do something stupid like take your clothes off in this kitchen. How much self control did he have? Why was he so annoyingly good at it? You could feel a buzzing in the base of your skull as you looked at him and you wondered if anyone had ever died from sexual frustration before.

You did not take off your clothes. Instead, you gave in to his agenda. As if anyone in their right mind could eat right now. You loaded your arms with various ingredients, figuring he was making some sort of stir fry and quietly dropped everything off beside his cutting board.

He was working quietly and not paying any attention to you at all. Were you the crazy one here? When did you turn into such a desperate woman? You were beginning to feel a little bit pathetic. Your skirt was so short. Your entire shoulder had been out this whole time and he hadn’t touched you once since you’d come out of that bedroom.

You grabbed a glass of cold water to drink. It didn't help but at least it was something to do. Your desperation was beginning to change into a numb sort of acceptance. Maybe this was just your life now. Perpetually turned on with no release. You’d have to buy more panties and change them often. Your usefulness in this kitchen was quickly coming to an end. You were out of things to do since the rice maker was still full of plenty of warm rice to eat and all of the dishes had already been cleaned and put away.

Baekhyun was busy cleaning and slicing vegetables and you’d grown tired of standing around not doing anything productive at all so you backed up against the counter beside where he worked and hopped up to sit and watch him work from this slightly elevated angle. If you didn't have anything to do, you would simply entertain yourself inside your own head as you watched the man you loved work on making you something to eat.

You were only a tiny bit irked that he seemed to be paying such close attention to these boring vegetables and not at all looking at your bare thighs that could be well within his line of sight if he would only look. You watched his brown eyes. They stayed fixed on the countertop below him.

His hair was drying, but was still a bit damp and you reached a hand forward to touch the softness of it and to feel the waves between your fingers. When you pushed the waves back away from his forehead he blinked and again his lips pulled into a smile. Even though he refused to look at you, he was still quite aware of you here. He hadn’t flinched when you touched his hair and the smile was definitely for you. It warmed you all over. He was so pretty. He was looking down and his eyelashes were dark and spread over his cheeks. His cheeks popped up when he smiled. You were pretty sure you were obsessed with the shape of this man’s face and when you could see his forehead he was nearly impossible to resist. You saw him bite down on the inside of his bottom lip. He scraped a pile of veggies off to the side and grabbed a carrot.

“LoveBug,” he said between chops. A smile formed on your lips and you tensed your smile to control it before you spoke out your soft reply to him.

“Yes Peanut?”

His forearm muscles flexed as he chopped and his lips pursed forward into a tiny pout. His face was a bit flushed for just chopping veggies and you noticed the tips of his ears were also pink.

“Can I be your boyfriend?”

His knife stopped moving and he was stuck looking down at the board without any actual focus in his eyes at all as he waited for you to hear his question and answer him. It didn't look like he was breathing either. You hadn’t quite expected this question. Sure, it was kind of a given if the two of you were in love, but still, hearing him work up the courage to ask you this question out loud made your stomach do flips.

Your face was so hot. Your heart was pounding too loud again. Was that why he hadn't been looking at you all this time? Was he working up the courage for this? You swallowed and you had to lick your lips because they’d grown too dry from all the biting you’d been doing. You were biting because otherwise you would be screaming and he was holding a knife. It was a recipe for disaster. You couldn't go to a hospital right now, there was a global pandemic going on. Those resources were precious.

“Yes,” you said with your eyes on his face. He moved. His face lifted and his pink cheeks and pink lips and warm eyes were a gift to your soul. Baekhyun looked at you at last — at last, he looked up into your eyes. You’d been staring at him so openly all this time. You were intimately familiar with the shape of him. The angle of his pretty eyes; the layout of the moles on his face; the curve of his little nose that begged to be kissed; the pointed tips of his upper lip and the soft downturn of his bottom lip. You knew his face. You knew everything about it, but when he was actually looking at you, now that you had his focus and his attention on you, you suddenly found it very hard to breathe.

He was looking into your eyes and he’d gone completely still. The eye contact that he maintained, it seemed to build onto itself and you could not look away. You did not even want to. You felt positively trapped in his eyes and despite the fact that neither of you moved at all apart from the occasional blinking in his eyes and steady in and out of his lungs you still felt the pressure building the longer he stared into your face and the less in control of yourself you felt in his presence.

His muscles tensed all over and when his grip hardened around his knife, you heard a loud sound as the knife pressed through the thick carrot in his hand. The sound it made jolted through your entire body. The sound of the thick fibrous vegetable resisting just enough for the knife to struggle against it and then, just when it seemed like it might not, the blade won with a pop. It made it through, the loud chop as the strong high carbon steel hit the wooden board below it when the weaker gave under the pressure; it echoed out inside of your head and his lips parted and his eyelids sank halfway into a blink as he exhaled a held breath.

Baekhyun looked down at his board and then he came to life, suddenly grabbing the carefully sliced and obsessively separated piles all in different shades and colors and he abruptly piled the whole mess of it into the center of the board; he started rapidly chopping everything all together in smaller pieces. It was frantic. The change in his behavior was jarring. What had gotten into him? Was it the same thing that had gotten into you?

“What are you doing? I thought you were doing stir fry,” you recognized the odd behavior and abrupt change of plans based on what he was doing with his ingredients.

“Fuck it. Fried rice. It’s fast. You'll eat it.”

You let your surprised laugh escape and his brows were furrowed with the effort as he chopped everything all together.

“Why are you just trying to feed me? You haven't eaten anything either.”

“Yeah but you were too upset to eat this morning. You can’t skip meals because it makes you feel bad. You’ll eat this and—”

He was turning around, away from you and away from every bit of temptation you waved in front of him, with all of his haphazardly chopped ‘stir fry demoted to fried rice’ ingredients and you heard the click of the stove as he turned the flame on.

“I’ll eat this and what?” You asked over his shoulder and you let your eyes wander down the curve of his spine down to his narrow waist.

“And calm down?” You mumbled to yourself, “the cold shower didn’t work.”

You hadn’t quite so openly ogled him before and you decided that you had simply been insane before. How could you have possibly lived with this man for two years and not thrown yourself at him before? How in the hell was he still a virgin with a face like that? You tossed your head to one side and tried to remember the last time he left the house. Even before 2020, the year from hell, the man simply didn't like to go out. He didn't like meeting new people and he definitely didn't like situations that involved many of those new people. That didn't mean he didn't try in the past. He’d mentioned being stood up before so that meant he had made an attempt to date, right? God, he was gorgeous. You could see the back of his neck as he worked and when he moved the pan around over the burner to spread the oil his arm muscles flexed.

He was adding things to his pan. Cooking and frying noises and smells were building surprisingly quickly and before you could even move from your perch on the counter he was scooping rice into a bowl that he stuck a spoon in from the drawer and he turned back around and returned to you holding the bowl in his hand. He was back now. You had him back.

“The shower didn’t work for me either,” he said honestly and you dropped your hands to brace on the countertop beside your bare thighs to keep yourself from losing your balance. It felt like a confession. He’d tried the shower to calm down too. He was affected by you and was struggling with his control too. Only from the way he was keeping his hands off of you right now, it was clear who was doing a better job with their self control. You wondered about the kinds of fantasies that played out in his head.

Baekhyun was holding a spoon full of rice up to your face and he inhaled a deep breath of air into his lungs that stuttered on the way in.  The stutter in his breath had you swimming inside your own head.

“How am I supposed to eat right now?” It was a genuine question. The man was driving you insane, you could feel the effects of his looks, his words, his kisses from earlier, and the maddening way he hadn’t touched you once since you’d come out of your bedroom. What did you have to do to get just one more kiss; just one hand on your thigh; just one more; just one more — you were ready to bargain or beg even.

“Three bites,” he said and he was breathing heavily when he did it. “Ahh,” he followed up with opening his mouth wide just like he wanted you to do for him.

You leaned forward then; bypassing the waiting spoon of rice. He was so close. You leaned and you pressed your lips against his lips. It was a tiny kiss and you heard the low grunt that left the back of his throat when you did it. His lips molded into yours and he pursed them, returning the kiss; giving into you so easily. When you pulled back his eyes were closed and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down.

Everything about him was pretty. His teeth were pretty. His tongue was pretty. His nose and his chin and his eyes were pretty. You felt drunk.

“Three bites and you can have anything you want, my love, I promise.”

Oh, he was playing a dangerous game with you. Calling you something like this when all of your skin felt like it was on fire. It was too much. It was all too much. You felt the blush heat your skin from your cheekbones down past your chest plate and you closed your eyes to try and keep some sort of semblance of sanity and you opened your mouth.

You felt the spoon push inside and it met your tongue. You closed your mouth around the food and chewed carefully. You tasted nothing. You ate it just to get the food inside of you so you wouldn't feel lightheaded later or gross for having skipped too many meals. He was right. You needed to eat something. He was taking care of you again and you felt one more drop of love splash against the inside of your heart walls. If he kept this up, it might just overflow and then what would become of you? You could hear the spoon scraping in the bowl he held and you heard the blowing sounds coming from his lips as he cooled the next spoonful to keep the hot temperature from burning your tongue. Another drop; another splash. You were screwed.

You’d swallowed it down and quickly opened your mouth for the next spoon, getting it over with to placate him.

The last spoonful went down easily and you opened your eyes when you felt a glass with cool water pushed into your hand which you drank down as well watching in amusement as Baekhyun also seemed to be chewing and swallowing rice he’d taken from the same bowl with the same spoon. His cheeks were puffed and you offered the rest of the water which he accepted and drained quickly.

“So you tried a shower too?”

He choked on his water when you said it and you adjusted the way you sat on the countertop, slipping forward a little so you could lean back on your hands as he was coughing. Your short skirt rode up a little more and you looked down to see most of your thighs bare. You let your knees open more. It felt like an invitation. He could touch you if he wanted to. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to this. Your wardrobe didn’t usually leave all that much to the imagination when you were relaxing at home.

“Cold one?” You asked. You weren’t usually so brazen. But this was Baekhyun and he was your boyfriend now. You wanted to scream from the pent up excitement sat inside of your belly when you thought about it.

“Freezing,” he said and he’d abandoned the food and water on the counter in front of him. His eyes were squeezed shut and he leaned forward with both of his hands resting on the countertop beside where you sat. You watched the side profile of his face and you waited for him. You did not move or touch him in any way at all. You held your breath and you held your tongue and you waited.

Baekhyun pulled himself up and he took a step to the side so that he now stood directly in front of you. His slim hips fit between your parted knees and you could feel the rough fabric of his denim jeans scratch against the inside of your upper thighs. You did not move at all. You just watched his face as he oh so carefully placed himself between your parted legs and you felt the first light pass of his fingertips as he touched your knee.

That first touch, that gentle tickle from his slim fingers that moved over the round hill of your kneecap and then, with barely there pressure, slipped up the outside of your bare thigh and did not stop at the fabric of your skirt but kept moving along your bare skin, just the tips of his fingers, just the tips of him that you loved the most; he kept touching and you could hardly contain it. The touch was so light, so fucking delicate you wanted to cry. He took your sanity and your breath and tossed them both far away from you.

When you lost your breath it left your lips in a quiet moan and your eyes closed on their own.

You moved your hands. They ached to hold him. You reached around his waist and pulled him toward you and he fit inside well when you moved your hips forward off the edge of the counter and when you slipped your face into the space below his chin where you could smell the skin of his neck, the smell of him overloaded your senses. It was just soap. He was just clean smelling but he smelled so unbelievably comfortable and familiar you inhaled deeply with your lips parted just over the surface of his skin.

The closer proximity gave you another sensation. You could feel the heat and stiffness between his legs that fit so perfectly between your own. You wanted to wrap around him. You wanted him closer. The desire was powerful and you felt the grip of his hand as he squeezed high on your thighs and his hips pushed forward for the sake of the friction itself.

“I promised,” you felt the vibration of his voice in your lips that you pressed against the side of his neck, “anything you want — you can have anything.”

It wasn’t quite a question. His statement was fractured and you could hear the trembling in his voice that made his thoughts as unstable as you felt inside of yourself right now.

“What is it you want to do? Do you want to watch a movie? Hmm? Do you want to go for a walk? Is there something else you want?”

You felt his words vibrating though his chest. You loved the sound of his voice but feeling it echoing against your own skin brought a warm comfort into your soul.

“I,” you had to keep your eyes closed and you pulled your lips away from his skin for a second. “I don't want you to do anything you aren’t ready for.”

As flimsy as you felt inside you knew you would never forgive yourself for pressuring him. You knew you needed to hear it from his own lips that he wanted more before you would let anything happen. You’d take 10 more frozen showers if you had to; just to hold yourself back.

You could feel it in that moment. You had a lifetime only for him. You could wait a lifetime for him.

“Bug, what are you doing? I feel like I’m losing my mind.” He was speaking just above your head and despite the pressure inside your heart to stop, to wait, to keep yourself under control you still gave into the urge to tighten your thighs around his hips and push your pelvis forward against him. You still pulled him into you with the arms you’d wrapped around him and you heard the trembling moan that vibrated through his chest wall.

“I can stop if you want. Peanut, tell me to stop and I will stop.”

His hands left your hips and you loosened your hold around his body when he moved. When you pulled your face back his hands were in his own hair and he was scratching roughly at his scalp with his fingers and his face was screwed together in a tight scrunch of all of his features. It was a look of confusion. It was uncertain and unsure and you looked at his face with your head cocked to the side when it dawned on you that he wasn’t picking up on the many many obvious clues you were putting down. Was he just so used to you cuddling and touching him that he really did not know what you wanted from him? Did he not watch you rip down the sign from your door and sit down here on this counter with your skirt hiked up so far he could probably see your panties if he just dropped his chin a few inches. Did he really have no idea?

“Stop what? What are you stopping? What is happening right now? I don't understand. You never told me what you wanted. And I can't think straight with you touching me so much. I’m going crazy. Tell me what to do.”

Was this real? You looked into the pained expression on his face and you lifted your eyebrows in surprise at what you saw. You saw him holding back. You saw him suffering through it. You saw confusion and uncertainty in his brown eyes and you realized that you had to be very blunt with him for him to get it. He’d been so conditioned to hide his attraction for you that this was completely new and uncharted territory for him. Despite the fact that you’d removed the stupid sign from your door and could feel the frustration all over your body from holding yourself back and the man was very clearly extremely aroused right now; you could feel how ready his body was for this, it was driving you crazy to have to stop this and tell him in plain words exactly what you wanted from him.

“Sex, Baekhyun. I am talking about sex. I want to have sex with you.”

As quickly as you’d said it, you inhaled to speak again. To clarify. To add important parameters that protected his heart.

“But, when you are ready. I absolutely don't want you doing anything you don't want to do, just because I ate three stupid bites of food. That’s actually not how this works. We have to both be ready. I will be okay no matter what we do or don't do. Please tell me you understand this is just me telling you that whenever you want to, I am ready. I want to do this with you.”

Baekhyun had removed his hands from your skin and he was still standing with his hands raised above his head. You’d pulled your legs away from his warmth and had dropped your hands to rest over your own knees as you spoke to him and he was looking into your face, watching you very carefully as you spoke with his lips parted and an indecipherable expression in his face. His eyes ticked around your features. He closed his mouth and then opened it again and you watched the words you had told him in earnest sink in deep.

When you stopped talking there was a moment when neither of you moved at all until you heard him inhale a quick breath.

“Yes,” he said and his eyebrows lifted briefly as his eyelids closed halfway, “yes,” he whispered again and his head was nodding up and down in quick shallow bursts, “yes,” he said a third time and he licked his lips quickly.

“Yes, I want to. I want to.”

His lips hung open when he quit speaking and he pushed the tip of his tongue along the edge of his front teeth. He looked into your eyes and you looked into his and you could feel the understanding coat you from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. With his eyes on you; with his love in his heart; with the furrow of his eyebrows and the quiet way his head sunk to the side and the push of air from deep within his lungs; he wanted you. He wanted you to be his first.

You watched him change before your eyes. The look in his eyes darkened when the minutes passed and the desire he’d expressed out loud sat in the space between your faces and inflated and swelled until you reached out and touched it with your careful fingertips. You absorbed it and he watched you do it. You would accept his consent, this precious thing. His tongue vanished somewhere inside of his mouth and he was breathing through his parted lips as his eyes roamed over your face.

The quiet understanding moved your body and you used the small space he’d given you to hop down off of the kitchen counter. When you moved you felt him take a step back and you pivoted on your feet, brushing your shoulder over his broad warm chest in the tiny space that you and he occupied in this kitchen.

As you moved you felt the back of your hand brush against his and you reached for his fingers with your own and when you took your first steps out of the kitchen you pulled his hand and he followed you where you moved past the dining table, past the living room and the light changed when you reached the darkened hallway that led to your bedroom.

Your bedroom was dimly lit. Your table lamp sat illuminated in the corner beside your bed and the sheer curtains let in enough light for you to see the nervous expression on his face and the way he licked his lips and swallowed away the moisture in his mouth.

Baekhyun came into your bedroom after you did and you saw him turn around and close your door behind him. The action made you feel tense. The intimacy of this small space made you feel very warm. Your bedroom was smaller than his and it hadn’t occurred to you until he did it that he had never closed himself up entirely in here with you before. In all of your experiences with him coming into your room in the past he always left your door open and something about him closing it behind him made this feel all the more real. You had sudden butterflies bumping around inside your stomach.

When he turned back around to face you he ran one trembling hand through his hair and his steps paused halfway through the room as he seemed to second guess his destination mid journey. He recovered though and pushed through it, coming to stop in front of your bed and turning around to sit down on the edge of it with his hands on his knees.

He was acting so nervous that it was making you feel nervous too. In fact, now that he was in here with you he seemed to be more nervous than he was excited about this. It made you pause.

“Are you okay?” You sat down beside him on your bed with your small question and you felt the warmth of his arm as you leaned against him.

Baekhyun closed his eyes and he inhaled a breath. You felt him exhale slowly and with it he leaned against you, slumping hard against your arm and he was warm and he was everywhere. The connection, that contact was powerful with how quickly you were overcome with the warmth and the feeling of him.

“I’m just anxious...I don't really know what I’m doing. What if I’m bad at it?”

He wasn’t second guessing doing this with you. He was naturally unsure of how things might go and was probably putting way too much pressure on himself to live up to some made up standard he’d set in his own head.

You stood up suddenly, feeling very in love with this man and feeling a strong need to protect him from everything, even from his own self doubts. He was brilliant. He was a good person. He was good at everything he did. He was already so good at loving you. You could see it in everything he did for you.

Your movement pulled his focus and his eyes followed when you moved to stand in front of him. You took a step closer to him, and your legs landed between his parted knees. His hands remained fisted stubbornly on his own knees but his eyes were open and he was looking at you standing in front of him.

“Baekhyun, do you trust me?”

He didn’t hesitate. He nodded his head up and down and you smiled down at him as he looked up at you. You lifted a hand and ran it over the back of his head and you saw the blink of his eyes when you slipped your fingers into his hair and scraped them against the back of his scalp. His lips parted and his eyes rolled.

“And do you love me?”  

Your other hand cupped his pretty face and his eyes opened back up as he looked at you again. He nodded his head again, slower this time.

“Then that’s all it takes to be good at it. I’ll help you with the details. You just do what feels good.”

“Just do what feels good? I can do that.” He whispered into the quiet space of your dark bedroom and you felt the heat flooding along the surface cells of your skin. He had been sitting when he reached for you as he stood and placed his hands on the sides of your face.

“Kissing you feels good,” he said and the warmth of his breath could not prepare you for him. You felt his mouth cover yours. You felt his tongue and his teeth biting lightly as he pulled your bottom lip inside of his mouth.

“Touching you feels good,” he whispered into your open mouth. You felt his hands then and he was everywhere. You were unprepared. This was not something you would survive with your sanity intact. You’d wanted so much. You’d waited for so long that the first real kiss, the first real touches from his hands rendered you nearly completely incapacitated.

The short skirt afforded him an expansive lot of skin to explore with his wandering hands. He gripped and he squeezed behind you, you felt the tips of his fingers squeeze your ass roughly and his hips were pushing into you. As convenient as these clothes were, they quickly lost their charm. You needed more skin. You needed to be done with them. You lifted both of your hands and you placed them on his shoulders and you firmly pushed him down to sit on the bed in front of you. He complied instantly and his eyes opened to look into your face as his heavy breaths flew through his parted lips.

You reached for the bottom of your shirt and you lifted straight up, pulling it over your head in a single smooth motion and before you lost the nerve you reached for the side zipper of your skirt and pushed it down, letting it fall to the floor you stepped out of it.

A burst of pride filled your chest. You’d made a good decision with the matching bra and panties set.

His eyes were on you and you saw a spark in them. This was a new expression on him that you hadn’t seen, although something in his eyes as he looked at you brought along a wave of deja vu. Something you’d only seen as quick as a lightning flash in his eyes as he kneeled before your naked body that night, the night of the storm.

He was looking at you and then he was touching you. You felt his warm hands slip a slow pathway along your hips.

“God, Bug. You’re so fucking pretty, I’m not going to make it.” When he leaned into you, you felt his mouth, the softness of his lips and the warm puff of air from his breathing as he inhaled his oxygen from the bare skin the space just below your breasts. His hands traveled now, with firmer pressure as he moved, you felt slim fingertips move higher and slip below the back strap of your bra.

You promised you’d help with the details. You reached behind and unclasped your bra hooks and the elastic gave. You pulled the garment down your arms and Baekhyun was leaning back onto your bed, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he leaned, he pulled you with him. His mouth was on your skin, he tasted and he when he pulled your hardened nipple into his mouth and sucked you nearly lost your mind. Your back arched and you moaned, closing your eyes tightly as his mouth worked on the sensitive nub. He moved like a fire and his hands touched you everywhere. Absolutely nothing about the way he touched you felt like he had any capacity in his whole body to be bad at this.

“This is too much,” he complained into your skin. You felt it too, but you craved even more.

You needed his skin. You wanted to feel it under your fingertips and with your lips. You wanted to kiss him and taste him and smell him as he was doing to you.

When you reached for his shirt, he left you pull it off him and when your hands flew to the button of his jeans he sat up on his knees to let you unzip him.

You felt that your own breathing was frantic. You felt too out of control. You wanted too much too fast to stand this.

Baekhyun stood to push himself out of his jeans and he joined you again with thin boxers straining against his hard erection. Your legs parted and you pulled him into you, still clothed in your panties and he landed perfectly in between your parted legs on the bed. His breathing was too fast and he whined out loud when you reached for him and palmed his hardness over his underwear. With every touch you could see him teetering on the edge. He would not last this way. You didn't really want him to.

“Too much. It’s too much. Fuck.” His self control was shaky. He was already a mess. You felt drunk on the sight of him. The sounds he made, trembling, whining with his eyes closed and with your hands on him, those noisy sounds hit you like heroin, you wanted him to come. You wanted to hear it and you watched to watch his face as he did it.

“I’m not going to make it. It’s too much already, I can’t,” he was whining again and his mouth was on yours as he kissed you, pulling your tongue into his mouth when you gave it to him. He was shaking already. You could see him losing control. If you kept touching him he would come in his boxers.

“You can come first,” you whispered into his ear before you bit down on the smooth skin of his neck. His breaths came out in jagged bursts.  

“But, too soon,” he complained with closed eyes. Your hand rubbed over him again and his hips pushed forward into the feeling as you squeezed and pulled with your palm around the cloth covered head of his dick.

“I want you to come first. You feel so good in my hand like this. I want to hear you come for me Baekhyun and then I’ll show you how you can touch me until you’re ready again.”

Your fingers slipped under the elastic of his waistband as you spoke and you felt him stiffen on top of you when you wrapped your hand around the smooth skin of his shaft.

“Oh God, Oh God,” he called out in his beautiful voice once you’d gotten him inside of your hand. You could feel the drops of wetness that had already collected at his tip and you used your thumb to spread the wetness over him and he let out a loud whine from the back of his throat as you did it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can’t — I have to —” he complained and you felt his muscles contract as he stiffened on top of you, he pushed again with his hips and with his mouth open and his eyes screwed shut you felt the first pulses along the length of him followed by the rush of warm liquid that flooded the palm of your hand and seeped through the thin fabric of his boxers. He trembled all over as he came and he went motionless save for the occasional satisfying twitch.

You felt positively possessed by the arousal. You pulled your hand out from his boxers and much of his mess had quickly soaked his underwear and even the panties you still wore and the bed sheets below you both felt sticky and moist. Still you saw the shine of wetness on your fingertips and his eyes followed you as you stuck your fingertips into your mouth and sucked off the taste of him, swallowing down the taste of his cum.

He reeled from it. He breathed heavily and his mouth hung open, the evidence of just how much all of this affected him written as plain as day all over his face. His eyebrows screwed together and then he moved a hand down the inside of your thigh, running his fingertips lightly over the soaked fabric of the lace panties you wore. Most of it was from you.

“Take them off,” you said. His fingers pulled at the sides and you lifted your hips as he rolled them off your legs.

When he came back his eyes feasted and his hands moved slowly, reaching forward for you, cautious yet desperate to touch everywhere. The first touches were light and you moved your hand down to place your warm palm over his hand between your legs. The details; the right place to touch you and the right amount of pressure. He was paying close attention to your fingers and you could feel his hand following your lead. He was driving you crazy. You were so desperate for him.

“Do you feel how wet you made me?”

You knew how wet you were. You were dealing with it for a significant amount of time already but something about guiding his fingers and slipping them between your folds as you taught him the movements; the way to make you come. He was directing his fingers and moving them over you in a way that felt amazing, you felt quickly undone with the rhythmic passes over your clit. You were so turned on even this amount of touch from him had you squirming in place almost immediately.

“I did this?” He had a spark in his eyes as he asked and you saw the small grin that took over his face. His eyes were on your face as he moved and you pulled your hand away when you noticed he caught on instantly to the kinds of movements that could drive you crazy. Every sound you made had him chasing the same sound and every time you flinched his eyes would fly up to your face as if you were a puzzle he had to solve and he was determined to get it right. You felt his fingers moving over your clit, pulling between digits and adding pressure when he abruptly pulled his hand away you opened your eyes and gasped at the sudden loss. He had dropped his shoulders and you saw the top of his head with his fluffy hair buried between your legs a split second before you felt the softness of the tip of his wet tongue slip between your folds and bump against the already swollen and oversensitive spot.

The man was an overachiever. You gasped out loud when his mouth opened and the suction of his mouth pulled hard enough to send a jolt of electric pleasure through your nervous system. You cried out and squirmed below his mouth and he pushed his fingers inside of you as he did it again. The room spun. You had to close your eyes and your hands reached down to touch his head. You threaded your fingers into his hair and when he did it again you gripped around the brown strands, you pulled his hair as he pulled hard with his mouth. He moved his tongue at the same time and you could not contain the trembling or the strong wave you gave into as you came. Your legs were shaking and he was still pulling. It was quickly becoming too much to take. You squeezed your thighs and reached for him, pushing him firmly away, he quickly pulled his face up from between your legs and the man was soaked. You were trying to breath and he was smiling his wide and blinding smile at you.

“Baekhyun, how?” You couldn't get the words out. You felt too out of breath from the orgasm and his smile was so lovely he lit up the room with it. You shook your head back and forth and exhaled the first breath that wasn’t shaking since he’d gotten his mouth on you.

“Did I do it right?” He was fishing. He sat there on his ankles and the moisture on his chin and neck reflected the dim lighting from your lamp.

“So good, Baekhyun. It was so fucking good. You’re amazing.” His nose scrunched and his eyes blinked when you said it. It was the truth. You hadn’t imagined that he could learn so quickly and perform so well. You could see the puff of his chest with your honest compliments and his hands were touching you again— light, absentminded touches; you felt him move again. The fire felt somewhat quenched for now as he moved and he blinked slowly at you as he dipped and he shifted in place. He was pushing his boxers off as he moved and you could see from the light in the window the beautiful shape of him completely bare before you.

“You’re so beautiful,” you said in awe at the sight of him. He licked his lips and glowed in the dim lighting. His smile pulled at his lips and you swooned to see him. You could also see that he was hard again.

You reached for him when he dropped to you and you met in the middle, reaching for his face as he reached for yours and his lips and tongue tasted like your arousal for a moment before you swallowed the taste away and found that familiar taste of him. The undeniable and addictive smell of the air that came from his lungs. The scent of the thin layer of sweat that sat over his skin and the heat that mingled and mixed with the smell of your own skin as he pressed himself against you.

Baekhyun was situated with his hips between your legs and you held your breath when you felt the first bump of his hardness as he slipped around within your wetness.

He pushed himself up on his knees and his eyes looked into yours. He didn’t move right away but you felt him reaching down between where you were separated and his eyes were down on his hand as he positioned himself at your entrance.

Baekhyun was looking into your eyes when you felt the tip of him and he pushed himself inside. He pushed forward with his hips; you felt the stretch; the pressure of it. A gasp escaped your lips and his eyes were on you when his mouth fell open. He pushed further and his eyes rolled back into his head, closing up as he filled you completely. You were filled. It stole your oxygen. You were overwhelmed by everything.

He went completely motionless when he got inside of you. When he was finally inside of you.

“Oh my god,” he said with his eyes closed up. His head was moving and small whimpers came from his throat when he pulled out and he pushed in again. You were transfixed by watching his face. “Holy fuck,” he spoke freely and noisily and when he wasn’t whining he was moaning out loud. When he wasn’t moaning he was cursing and you were lost under the spell of him. He quickly found a rhythm as he chased the need to move, pulling out and pushing in again and his movements grew more confident.

You were getting lost in him. You could feel the way your body clung to him tightly and you pulled him into you when he pulled away. Your mouth found his as he dropped down to you and pushed inside roughly and you wrapped around him when you felt him rolling. You found yourself surrounding him and surrounded by him at the same time. You were on top of his lap and the dizziness of the movement made your head spin. His arms wrapped around your waist and he sat up with you on him and still inside of you and he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and you held on to him so tightly. Tight enough that the movements of your body slowed and you felt him push deep inside of you again and again. His mouth was on yours and you shared the same air just as completely as you shared the same space.

Your heart was raging inside of your chest and the ache to get closer to him pulsed with it. The need for closeness was overwhelming. Your nails dug into the skin on his back and you bit down on his shoulder with your teeth. The need was too deep. Your mind was lost to it and you whimpered into the skin of his neck when you felt the wave overtake you again.

You were lost.

You were lost.

You could feel yourself shaking all over and you squeezed tightly around him when you felt the flood of his heat inside of you and the heavy breathing in your own chest mirrored his own as he gripped your body tightly and held you so close to him.

The spell took ages to break. You held onto each other for too many heavy breaths to count and when you lifted your head from where you were buried in his neck his hands lifted to cradle the back of your head.

Baekhyun’s lips were back. He kissed you deeply and slowly and you melted into him, feeling the fatigue in your limbs nagging you.

You were laid down and the substantial messes were ignored for now. You were kissed again and again and when those kisses turned quicker and sloppier you felt your own lips pulling into a smile.

Your body was nagging you though. You felt the need to clean yourself up. You knew you’d have clean your bed too and when you’d finally managed to extract yourself from his arms and his lips you made your way into your bathroom. It was your second shower of the day only this time you turned on the hot water to heat up.

A quick peek into your bedroom gave you a glimpse of him. Baekhyun was laying on your bed, still naked and laying flat on his back. After a few moments he moved and sat up, pulling the sheet below his body with the tips of his fingers. He was making a face to himself, scrunching up his nose and sticking his tongue out as he pulled on the wet fabric of your bed sheets and it made you laugh out loud.

“Is it always this messy? Bug—” he was calling out to you from the bed. He looked a little like he might be trapped there. “Bug? Bug, help. It’s all over my stomach. What do I do with it?”  

His hands were reaching out and you saw him grab the first soft thing he touched. It was pink and it was fluffy and it had been sitting in the corner of your bed. Your temper flashed hot. He was not about to use your cutest most innocent stuffed animal for this.

“Peanut, if you wipe up your cum with Mr. Nibbles, I’ll never, ever forgive you. Put him down.”

His hand opened and the pink fluff fell to the floor below. Safe for now. Baekhyun was sitting up on the side of your bed and he was mumbling to himself. “It’s not just mine, LoveBug. We made this mess together.”

“Well let’s clean up together then,” you said, with a few steps in his direction and reached for his arm, pulling him up from the bed toward your bathroom where the hot water was steaming up the mirror and calling out to you. The building hunger pangs in your stomach called to you as well. All at once, the needs came at you one by one.

You heard a low stomach rumble coming from the beautiful naked man whose arm you pulled through the doorway of your bathroom.

“And then we can eat together,” you sing-songed and you heard the small huff of a laugh that came from his nose. His smile was wide and he looked at you with so much affection in his eyes.

“And then we can take a walk together and hold hands, and watch a movie together and we can wash the bed sheets together and play a game together. An easy game though. Not one of those hard ones where I just die and die. We can play a nice game together and you can let me win at least one time. Not every time, just once is fine. I can’t win every time, it’s just not realistic. I will understand. I am a very understanding person.”

You weren't done. Once you’d gotten going you really couldn't help the excitement that took you over when you imagined all of the things you wanted to do with him. You had a list in your head of all of the things you wanted and you could hear the quiet giggles from Baekhyun that were nearly drowned out by the running water that you were about to step inside.

“Oh! And then we can delete your dating profile together and you can tell me how long you’ve been in love with me and I will tell you about all of the sex dreams I’ve had about you. And then—”

His hand pulled you back. The warm water had been so close you could already feel the refreshing cleanliness that was just within your grasp. The frown that formed on your lips was short lived because you felt his warm arms encircle your shoulders and he pulled you into his chest.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” he was saying it again and again. You could hear the smile on his lips as he said it and his love declarations coated you completely both inside and out and you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into your arms as you squeezed him tightly.

“We have so much to do together,” he said softly into your hair after the truth of the love declarations had settled and you ran your hand through the back of his head, pulling his hair through your fingertips with each pass.

“A lifetime of them,” you said. Your heart felt so full and somehow you couldn’t find it in you to feel anxious about saying this to him. It was the truth that you felt inside of your heart, you felt it so completely.

He pulled his face back to look into your face and you saw a remarkable serenity in his warm brown eyes. His lips pulled into an easy smile and he inhaled a breath to respond to you.

“A lifetime, Bug,” he said with a nod of his head and a spark in his eyes, “together.”

[The End]

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9 , Part 10 , FINAL Part 10.5

Tag list: @j-pping  @blahblahblah-boo  @his-mochi-cheeks  @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13  @baekinmylife  @insta1010  @nana-banana  @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff  @byunbabybaek @maijinki @bbyunz@theclawofaraven @kingkushdealer  @uhobob @baekswifey @punchmebaekhyun @xlxbaekhyuneex @sorrowinblood @catseohyun @rossemayme @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @marovekian1 @versaexact@czechkpoptrash

#Baekhyun #Exo #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fic #baekhyun fiction #exo fic #exo fanfiction #exo fiction #baekhyun ff #baekhyun smut #exo smut #baekhyun series #exo series #baekhyun fluff #exo fluff

[jkstompers]

just to study | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: your seat partner asks if you’re free after class, just to study.

genre: fluff, college!au, established friendship, flirtationship, mutual pining, they go to a ‘frat’ party together, also yugyeom! a sweetheart<3 we love him.

warnings: mature!!, mentions of alcohol + alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, strong language, SEXUAL TENSION, mentions of dick sucking??, hints of a wet dream on oc’s end, very strong urges to kiss each other but no kisses today </3, that’s pretty much it!

word count: 7.4k (i...kinda went overboard)

authors’ note: hello!! this is a pt. 2 to sleepyhead! it’s based a few weeks after so yeah <3 also the pacing is kind of weird but… i don’t really know how being drunk is so............(＞人＜) i’m sorry about that! one scene was inspired by this post haha it was just so cute to think about i had to do it. ALSO i literally haven’t taken anatomy since high school so i just used random terms from quizlet T_T pls excuse that as well! but otherwise, enjoy!!!!!!!!! (っ^_^)っ

(if u see any typos...ignore them pls T_T)

side note: imagine jk looking like this when he goes to the party lmao classic fboy look with the camo bomber and his piercings ugh <3

banner pic creds here ! <3

you made it to class on time today, woke to your alarm and even had enough time to eat breakfast before you came. in a particularly good mood, you made your way up the stairs to the row jungkook was sitting in, hoping that the seat next to him was empty (you didn’t have to hope, jungkook always saved the seat next to him for you, no matter what.)

“good morning, ___!” jungkook’s voice greets you the same as always as soon as you appear next to him. he moves his bag out of the way for you to sit down.

he looks especially cute today. his long floppy hair framing his face, his sweet smile beaming up to you. you wonder how dumb you looked drooling over him for a minute before you replied, “hi jungkook, how are you?” with the same smile on your face that you show him every time he sees you. it never changes, but it never fails to make jungkook’s heart skip a beat.

“i’m doing okay, you?” he answers while you pull out your laptop.

you didn’t have a chance to reply before your professor starts talking. informing the class about the test that’s planned at the end of the month, finals in two months, and then dropping the bomb that there’s a quiz tomorrow about the things you’ve learned in the past week. a slight panic takes over you, although you didn’t know why, you understood what he was teaching and you were retaining all of the information well. but when the professor pulls up all the information on the screen to review it all, all of the words and pictures overwhelm you.

to make things worse, jungkook is to your left, not paying attention to a word your professor is saying. instead, playing some game where he has to click his touchpad an obnoxious amount of times. your attention is split between jungkook’s erratic tapping and the notes that the professor projects onto the screen, even though his computer barely made any noise, his incessant movement was distracting you.

“jungkook, you’re taking notes and playing a game?” your voice comes out as a rushed whisper. there’s a snort that comes from him before he nods. you couldn’t be mad at him. “there’s a quiz on all of this tomorrow, you know?”

“i know,” he continues to tap and click, the motion growing incredibly annoying. you didn’t know why you couldn’t have just tried to block it out, but he was just so close to you and admittedly, you looked at his hands, a lot. the way that his fingers tapped against his keyboard and his veins that accentuate his already beautiful hands, it was free art you could look at, how could you not? at this point, you’re contemplating holding his hand to make him stop tapping.

you were in the middle of typing when he finally stops, leaning back and stretching his arms up into the air. you let out a sigh of relief, until he starts again. apparently he reached the next level on his game, tapping even faster, if that was even fucking possible.

quietly, you groan. turning your attention solely on him. you place your hand on top of his, the tapping ceasing almost immediately. “please, jungkook, you’re distracting me.”

he looks at your hand before he looks at you, his chocolate doe eyes wide to the action. he gulps, “sorry.”

you remove your hand, focusing back to the presentation. jungkook feels the heat from his cheeks travel to his hand. the feeling of your hand on his wasn’t something he was expecting to experience today, but he wants nothing more than for you to do it again. he exits the game tab and changes his focus to the lecture.

or moreso, you focusing on the lecture.

you look so cute. your cheek pressed up against your fist. he stares at the way that your forehead creases in concentration. he taps on your arm that’s resting on the table, “hey, you look like you’re stressed out.”

you turn your head slightly to look over to him. “that’s because i am,” you send him a quick smile before you go back to looking at the projection.

he furrows his eyebrows, “why? you’re smart, there’s no need to worry about what you get on this.” you were an a+ student, never anything less than that. jungkook knows that you ace every test that you take, so he doesn’t quite understand why you’re so stressed.

“because jungkook,” you groan. you expected a lot from yourself, sure b’s were okay, but a’s and a+’s were what you wanted and what you thought would make you feel satisfied. there was no way you could explain this without sounding like an overachiever. so you just sigh, “i’m just not really prepared.”

jungkook thinks of the perfect way to spend more time with you, snapping his fingers before suggesting, “we should study together after class, studies show that studying with someone else will give you an a+, guaranteed.” the confidence in his voice makes you smile, and helps you ease up a little bit.

you raise an eyebrow, a laugh creeping up from your lungs. “source for that statistic, sir?”

he taps his right temple, the gesture making you snort. “no but seriously, i’ll help you out,” he assures. his laptop turns towards you to show you all the notes he took, different words highlighted and colored differently.

you act like you think about it, staying quiet for a minute or so. but you know the answer was yes no matter what. “just to study?” you tease. jungkook raises his eyebrows in surprise, an amused smile on his face, “just kidding, we can go to mine? i owe you for the ride you gave me like two weeks ago.” you tap your fingers against your laptop nervously, your teeth taking in your bottom lip as you ask. you haven’t had a guy over to your apartment, not since you’ve moved in. there’s a certain anxiousness that comes with the suggestion.

jungkook nods, “sounds good.”

“okay, again.” you brush your hair behind your ears, preparing yourself once more for another pass of the flashcards. the two of you have been at it with these cards for the past hour or so, you were determined to get these right no matter how long it took. jungkook knew you were gonna get it down, you only had three more cards, these ones specifically stumping you.

“aponeuroses,” he looks at the card and then to you.

“connective tissue that forms a broad sheet which attach muscle to bone or muscle to other muscles,” you speak confidently. jungkook nods, moving onto the next card of the set of three.

“endomysium,” he reads the card. you hesitate on this one for a second, he plays with the corner of the card until you snap your fingers.

“that’s the connective tissue surrounding the… the— uh, oh! muscle fiber?” your brain works extra hard. jungkook rewards you with another nod, flipping to the last card.

“fascia.”

“dense connective tissue,” you begin, pausing to think of the rest of the answer. you start biting your thumb nail, knowing there’s more to it but it’s not coming to your brain quick enough.

jungkook just stares, watching your facial expressions as you search for the answer in your brain. this could be the worst crush he’s ever had, he thinks you’re cute when you’re just sitting there, thinking. he doesn’t remember ever liking someone this much, most of the time his crushes went away after a few weeks or so. but it’s almost been an entire year since he’s started crushing on you, and it still hasn’t stopped. you still manage to find a way to make his thoughts surround you.

“separates and holds individual tissues? it’s the one that extends into the tendons, right?” you perk up after a minute or so. your brain finally coming up with the answer. you blame jungkook’s presence for slowing you down. maybe you shouldn’t have accepted this offer to study together, because how could you focus when jeon jungkook is sitting right in front of you?

“you’re amazing,” he praises, setting the flashcards down onto the table. you blush at the compliment, jungkook takes notice, but he doesn’t mind, he thinks pink is pretty on you. he’s never wanted to kiss your cheeks as much as he did now, and trust, he’s thought about it many, many times. “all done?” he asks after staring at you for the longest time.

you nod, “just gonna highlight these terms to review them later so i can get it down 100%.”

jungkook watches as you diligently reread your notes and highlight them. an apple on the table taking his attention away for a second when he realizes he hasn’t eaten at all today. he takes a bite, the loud crunch noise seemingly startling the both of you. it makes you turn your head and raise an eyebrow towards him.

“sorry,” he chews, “hungry.”

your stare lingers a little longer than you wanted it to. his cheeks are full of apple, you can’t help but laugh a little. “there’s still the sticker on it,” you point out.

he turns the apple around to see the blue sticker. peeling it off, he holds it on his fingertip, an idea sprouting in his mind to see that sweet smile of yours again. so he places the sticker on your cheek, your gaze moving from your screen to him and then to the fruit sticker now stuck onto your cheek. “get it? ‘cause you’re sweet like this apple is,” he smiles.

oh my god. you blush embarrassingly, your entire face flushed pink as you hide your cheeks behind your hands. he laughs at your reaction. jungkook was feeling bold today, so he moves forward, gently taking your hands away from your face to see the cute pink tint he caused. he sits back, admiring your pretty face.

you feel yourself burning hotter and hotter the longer he stares, looking everywhere but his face, too scared to make eye contact. you look back to your computer screen, “um— there’s pasta in the fridge— if you’re hungry, i made it last night.” you offer, but he declines politely, telling you that he has to leave pretty soon because his friends are expecting him to join them today.

begrudgingly, you watch as jungkook packs his things up. he thinks about how content he felt hanging out with you today, and how he wanted to do it again, as soon as possible. a thought pops into his head before he opens the door to leave. he turns on his heel.

you weren’t expecting the sudden turn, accidentally bumping into his chest. “oof! sorry.”

“it’s alright,” he laughs, helping you steady yourself by holding your shoulders. “i just wanted to ask— uh, my friends are throwing a party tomorrow night, do you— do you wanna come?” his words come out jumbled, jungkook never fails to trip on his words whenever he’s near you.

tomorrow night...it’s a friday tomorrow, the quiz is tomorrow, why the fuck not? a stress reliever from all the studying you’ve done. “sure,” you answer after a minute or so of deliberation. you look up at him with a smile, suddenly realizing how close the two of you are.

your eyes flicker between his eyes and his lips, the close proximity makes you hold your breath. “great! i can pick you up? be your DD?” he quirks his head, a smile that matches yours on his face.

you nod, “yeah, i’d like that.” with that, jungkook takes a step back, widening the space between you both as his right hand goes to hold the strap of his bag.

“okay, i’ll text you the details.” before he turns around, turning the knob of your front door and letting himself out. before the door closes, he sends you a wave, one which you reflect as he pulls the door closed. you move up and lock the door, your forehead resting against the cold metal slab.

you wonder if this crush will ever advance into something more. neither of you really push the agenda, most of the time just cutely flirting with each other and only talking to each other during class. maybe this party will be a chance to further the bond the two of you have. you could only wish that you could drop this nervous shield that pops up everytime you’re around him, but jungkook is just so cool. the campus heartthrob, everyone wants to be him or be with him.

for the rest of the day, jungkook seems to occupy your mind, as he always does. when you get to sleep, the fantasies of jungkook’s lips on yours drift you into a deep sleep, one that eventually leads to a dream that has you rubbing your thighs together. his hands were all over your body, his cologne that you were so familiar with tormenting your nose, it all felt too real. so when you woke up to the sound of your alarm, sweat beaded at your hairline. you took deep breaths, cementing the fact that he isn’t here, and he certainly isn’t doing those things with you right now.

it was not helping that you dreamt of him sexually on the day of your quiz, the one that you were immensely stressing over. now, you’re gonna have to walk into class, act normal around jungkook even though your brain produced pornographic images of him, (it’s not the first time, but it’s the first time you’ve had to face him right after it happened) and ace this quiz.

you tried almost everything you could to have cleared your brain of your dream sequence. taking a shower, eating breakfast, studying once more, etc. but when you’re walking into the lecture hall, flashes of the dream and the sound of his imagined moan echo in your mind.

you walk up the stairs with your eyes down, not sure if you could make eye contact with jungkook without turning red. “hey, ___, good morning!” the familiar voice greets you.

“morning,” you reply, dryly. taking the seat next to him and silently taking your laptop out, waiting for the professor to start the quiz. jungkook seemed a bit taken aback by your cold answer, but he took into account that you’re probably just super nervous and stressed out because of the quiz, so he doesn’t take it too personally. instead, just sitting back in his chair and waiting patiently to take the quiz as well.

at this point, you were psyching yourself out, swearing that you already forgot all of the terms. if you were quizzed on the parts of male anatomy, specifically jungkook’s, then maybe you could ace it, but the terms that you were working oh so hard to memorize yesterday slip from your mind. when the professor tells you to separate and start the quiz, you start to bite your thumb nail again.

jungkook takes a look over at you, noticing the bad habit of yours. he gently takes a hold of your arm, pulling your thumb away from your teeth. the action causing you to make eye contact with him and his big doe eyes that hold so much love and light. you find yourself a bit speechless then, too many thoughts running around in your mind.

he whispers, “you’ll do great, okay?” the statement soothing your nerves. his voice somehow makes your body relax, even though you thought you would freak out if you made any sort of contact with him.

“you— you too, good luck,” you mutter. a half smile on your face. you were grateful that jungkook broke you out of your trance, his words of encouragement suddenly placing you in the testing state of mind. the images from last night's dream seem to put themselves away for now.

the next twenty minutes are complete silence. everyone focused on the questions before them. of course, you zoomed through the quiz, prepared for the trick questions and the harder ones that come up. jungkook finishes after you. it wasn’t a surprise, jungkook didn’t even have to try, you swear you’ve never seen him stress out before. nobody was perfect, you believed that, but jeon jungkook was the closest to it.

“okay, class! the quiz will be graded by tonight hopefully, you’re free to leave,” your professor alerts the class. jungkook waits patiently until you’re standing, following you down the stairs and out the door.

you decide to speak first, since you greeted him with such a dry response this morning. it wasn’t his fault that you dreamed of him on top of you, so why were you punishing him for it? “how’d you think you did?” you asked, turning to look at him.

he shrugs, “good i guess, i think i fucked up on one or two questions.”

“was it the striation part? i think i messed up on that one too.”

he shakes his head, “you know you aced that, don’t lie.”

you stay silent, the two of you walking to the campus parking lot. neither of you engage in conversation as you usually do. the images of last night’s dream slipping into your consciousness once again. you try to shake your head, to rid yourself of the thoughts. nothing else to distract you from them because jungkook was oddly silent the entire walk. you fear that he can actually read your mind and see all of your thoughts. if he could, he doesn’t mention it. not saying one word to you until he walks you to your car, greeting you with a ‘see you next class!’ before leaving to go to his car. not even mentioning the party to you, you start to wonder if he regrets inviting you. up until you heard your phone ring when you parked in the lot of your apartment complex.

[10:24 am] jungkook: hey! forgot to remind u about the party 😫

[10:24 am] jungkook: ur still down to come, right?

[10:28 am] you: hi! yeah :)

[10:28 am] you: is there a dress code or smth? haha

[10:29 am] jungkook: not that i know of 😂

[10:30 am] jungkook: u can wear anything u want

[10:30 am] jungkook: ur cute whatever u wear

[10:31 am] you: oh stop it jeon ur making me blush

[10:32 am] you: but tell me :( should i wear something casual? pants? a dress?

[10:34 am] jungkook: 😂

[10:34 am] jungkook: it’s kind of like a frat party…

[10:35 am] jungkook: so anything is okay

[10:37 am] you: ah okay

[10:37 am] you: i’ll surprise u then ;)

[10:40 am] jungkook: alright :)

[10:41 am] jungkook: i’ll come by around 9 to pick u up? sound good?

[10:42 am] you: yeah! gives me enough time to nap and get ready lol

[10:44 am] jungkook: great :) see u then cutie

you wake up from your nap around one, you had more than enough time for you to get ready for a party. so you decide to clean your apartment first, little chores to waste time before you get yourself dolled up. when you finished, it was around seven thirty. you washed your face, brushed your teeth, all that good stuff before sliding on a simple black bodycon that you got last summer. styling your hair and spraying on your favorite perfume before looking at yourself in the mirror. this wasn’t too much, right? lots of people wear stuff like this to frat parties, so you didn’t find it too fancy. the notification sound from your phone goes off, you move to check and see if it was who you were expecting.

[8:54 pm] jungkook: i’m here :)

[8:54 pm] you: ahh gimme a sec i need to pee haha

[8:55 pm] jungkook: take ur time cutie

[8:56 pm] jungkook: i’m right in front

jungkook only really had to wait about five minutes. the visual of you walking out of your apartment doors, looking the way you did, was breathtaking. his jaw drops, mouth slightly agape as he watches you walk up to his car through the passenger window. you are so gorgeous. it’s probably the first time jungkook’s seen you in clothes that really compliment your figure, most of the time you show up to class in hoodies and sweaters. so greedily, he takes in the way the dress hugs your curves deliciously. he shakes the thoughts from his head to get out of the car and open the door for you.

“what a gentleman,” you tease, getting into the car.

he joins you soon after, “you look...gorgeous.” jungkook doesn’t seem so shy now, his eyes taking in your beautiful self.

“thank you,” you blush under his stare. “is it too much?”

“no! no— not at all, all eyes will be on you tonight.” he smiles, turning the car on. now you were able to gawk over him. a simple outfit, all black with a black and white camo bomber. his side profile is perfect, his long hair draping over his face so gracefully and his piercings somehow sparkling in the dark of the car.

he doesn’t drive too far, somewhere in the suburbs where the big houses are. a huge iron gate in the front, seemingly too fancy for a frat party setting. jungkook rolls his window down to greet someone waiting in front of the gate with a couple of other guys.

“jeon! you’re late dude,” one of the guys gives him a handshake through the window.

“sorry man, i’m here now though,” jungkook laughs. the guy giving him the greenlight and opening the gate for him, jungkook parks inside on their stone driveway, decorated with a fountain and a beautiful garden.

“your friend lives here?” you inquire, impressed by the look of the place.

he nods, “fancy right? his parents are ceo’s.” makes sense, and it would also make sense as to why they were throwing a frat party here, rich sons always seem to stir up trouble whenever they’re bored.

he steps out of the car to open the door for you, always a gentleman. he takes your hand and helps you out, the two of you walking to the huge open double doors. as soon as you walk in, the smell of alcohol hits your nose, you try your best not to cringe. the blare of the speakers is the second thing you notice, along with the shouting of jungkook’s friends greeting him. “who’s this?” one of them asks, referring to you.

jungkook seems to hesitate at first, not really knowing how to introduce you. he settles by saying, “this is ___!” not attaching any ‘friend’, ‘classmate’, or anything to the introduction. his friend holds his hand out to shake yours.

you take it with a smile on your face, “i’m yugyeom, it’s nice to meet you!” a smile that reflects yours is on his face, it made you feel welcome. you were never really the type to go to parties, your time is spent working and/or going to school, but this interaction helps you ease up a little more.

“hello, yugyeom!” you reply, shouting over the music.

“do you wanna take a shot?” he asks. pointing to the enormous kitchen where they’re housing all the alcohol, you look to jungkook first who’s paying more attention to his phone rather than the conversation you were just having.

you shrug, “why not?”

yugyeom leads the two of you to the kitchen, jungkook following behind you blindly. he looks up from his phone, done with whatever business he was dealing with to ask, “where are we going?”

“taking a shot,” you answer, pointing to yugyeom who’s already pouring three shots.

“dude, i’m not drinking, don’t pour three.” jungkook tries to stop him before he fills up the third shot glass but his arm knocks yugyeom’s in the process, the bottle spilling the clear liquid into the third shot glass.

“i’ll take two,” you suggest, feeling a bit wild and down to venture out of your comfort zone.

yugyeom smiles at this, “i like her, jeon.” he hands you the two shot glasses full of vodka, jungkook stands next to you and watches as you down the first shot. your face cringing as soon as the alcohol touches your tongue.

“you didn’t even give her a chaser,” jungkook notices, scolding yugyeom who's already downed his shot and is sucking on a lime. “here, suck,” holding a slice of lime up to your lips. his choice of words disorienting you, especially since he was holding the lime up to your mouth instead of just handing it to you. your eyes flicker between the lime and his face, but nevertheless, you suck. sinking your teeth into the sour fruit. jungkook’s eyes zeroed in on how your lips wrap around the slice, slightly grazing his fingers. it’s not long before you’re making a cute scrunched up face from the sourness. “good,” he praises. you don’t deny the slight burn your lower belly felt when he said that to you. you swear he was making sex eyes to you, but you couldn’t tell. he broke eye contact with you soon after, throwing the fruit into the trash below the table that the alcohol was perched on.

yugyeom hands you another lime for your second shot, this time no jungkook to hold the fruit for you. the second shot burning down your throat with the lime chasing after, both yugyeom and jungkook cheer, congratulating you for being a trooper (even though two shots were their warmups).

the next hour or so, jungkook brings you around. he introduces you to his friends and making conversation with them. one certain group, you didn’t really enjoy. a group of five girls, clearly swarming jungkook as soon as he turned around from talking to another one of his friends. the girls ask how he’s been doing, all of the basic conversation starters. when jungkook tries to introduce you, they all turn to you and give you a little head nod before turning their attention back to jungkook. he stands there, conversing with them longer than he had with any of his other friends, and you found yourself getting, hm, jealous.

so you search around the room crowded room, looking for some way out. your eyes spot yugyeom in the backyard through the huge sliding doors, sitting on one of those lawn chairs with the one next to him empty. you decide to leave the group you were currently getting pushed out of and join yugyeom. he notices you when you step onto the grass, trying your best not to sink into the dirt with your heels. “you doing alright? where’s jungkookie?” he asks, sitting up.

you plop down onto the lawn chair next to him. “he’s in there,” you point to the house, “with five girls.”

the last bit of the sentence makes him laugh, a cackle where he holds his stomach because he was laughing so hard. “do you want a shot?” he offers after he recovers from his fit, pulling a tequila bottle out from nowhere.

but you agree, “two, please.” he fills the two shot glasses, but not completely like he did with the vodka earlier. there were no limes, or any type of chaser for you to take around, so you take the two shots like ripping off a band-aid, quick.

“you’re a funny girl,” yugyeom compliments when you’ve downed the shots.

“thanks?” you cough, the feeling of the alcohol still burning your nose and throat, “what did i say that was funny?”

“i think it’s because i’m tipsy, but that joke you made about jungkook being with five girls was hilarious.” he slaps his knee, almost making himself laugh up a storm again, but you weren’t laughing.

you raised an eyebrow, speaking with a serious tone. “it wasn’t a joke, he’s in there with five girls.”

yugyeom tries to collect himself, sitting properly on the lawn chair when he asks you to clarify, “you mean he’s fucking them? or he’s talking to them?”

you’re silent for a second before replying, why did you say it like he was in there fucking them? maybe it’s because he might as well be, so engrossed in whatever the hell they were saying to even notice that you were gone. “just talking to them,” you reply.

“that’s what i thought, jungkook isn’t like that anymore,” yugyeom nods his head, pouring another shot out for you.

“anymore?” you ask. he hands you the shot, you hesitate this time, starting to feel the effects of the first four shots you took. he doesn’t push you to take it. he just leans back onto the lawn chair as he sighs.

“you could say he’s retired,” he shrugs.

the term makes you laugh, “...a retired fuckboy?” you sit back into the lawn chair as well, looking up to the night sky. the shot glass forgotten on the table next to you. your body feels like it’s floating.

“yeah, he hasn’t really been doing stuff like that recently,” yugyeom spills. you stay quiet after he feeds you this information. yugyeom offhandedly telling you that you shouldn’t be jealous makes you feel guilty. why were you even jealous? jungkook was technically still just a friend to you. just because the two of you flirt every now and then doesn’t mean you’re together. of course he would be surrounded by girls, just look at him!

“there you are! i was looking all over for you,” jungkook interrupts your inner monologue. his voice comes from across the lawn, you look up to see him walking over to you and yugyeom.

“hi, jungkookie,” you smile up at him. the alcohol having more of an effect on you the longer you let it sit in your stomach.

he almost freezes up at the nickname, looking over to yugyeom and asking, “did you tell her to call me that?”

yugyeom holds his hands up in innocence, “i didn’t tell her to do anything, she’s like five or six shots deep though.”

you take the shot that was forgotten on the table and down it. “six,” you clarify.

“alright, slow down, iron liver,” jungkook jokes. yugyeom stands from the lawn chair, receiving jungkook’s telepathic signals to get the fuck up to he could talk and hang out with you.

“play beer pong with me later, ___! i’m gonna go look for eunwoo,” yugyeom points to you, giving you a thumbs up before leaving the backyard and moving into the house.

“feeling okay? think you might throw up soon?” jungkook asks, replacing yugyeom in the chair next to you.

“feel like i’m surfing, you know? like wavy,” you answer. the feeling was hard to explain, you weren’t dizzy but at the same time your brain was telling you to stop moving, even though you were completely still.

“ah, you’re getting there,” jungkook snorts. you didn’t have much willpower to answer, so the two of you sit there in a comfortable silence before a group of people coming towards, all greeting jungkook and you. they offer you a red cup, despite your current predicament. leaning against the chair and your droopy eyes, telling them that you’ve taken too many shots. a lightweight at her peak.

jungkook tries to deny it for you, but with a smile, you accept the cup. it was filled with the fancy mixed alcohol juice they had. “thank you,” you place the cup onto the table, “i’ll drink it.... later..” your words begin to draw themselves out. jungkook somehow finding a way to make the entire group leave, making it just the two of you again.

“give it to me, you’re starting to slur your words.” his hand is open, laying on the table and waiting for you to surrender the cup.

your eyes flicker from the red cup, to his face, then to his hand. a smirk on your face when you hold the cup up to your lips, tilting it back and drinking the cursed juice. you weren’t able to down it all, it was too much, you drank maybe ⅔ of it. you cough, taking in a deep breath as you try to steady yourself.

you weren’t sure if it was because you were drunk, but the way that his face looks in the moonlight was so pretty. so you just had to tell him. leaning forward, you speak, almost a whisper, “you’re so handsome.” you drag your finger across the expanse of jungkook’s hand. “did you know i have no gag reflex?” you smile, not your typical sweet smile that he’s used to, but a devilish grin.

jungkook’s eyes widen, his cheeks flushing immediately at your remark. “alright, you drank way too much.” he takes the red cup from your hands, dumping it out onto the grass in front of you both.

“hey, i wasn’t done,” you pout, but jungkook didn’t give you much time to mourn your spilled drink before he was holding your arm, lifting you from the lawn chair you were sitting on. “where are we going?” you ask, trailing behind him with your hand in his.

“gonna get you some water and something to eat,” he answers. the two of you move through the house, jungkook pushes through groups of people and makes sure you’re safe behind him.

“i have to pee.” you tip toe to tell him your emergency in his ear. he stops at the stairs, knowing a bathroom where no one else goes. his friend specifically telling him to use that bathroom when they have parties because the other ones get way too gross.

he brings you up the stairs to the guest bedroom, opening the door to reveal one of the biggest rooms you’ve seen. “the bathroom is there,” jungkook points to the door on the left. you nod, your wobbly legs making their way to the toilet.

jungkook sits on the bed patiently, waiting for you to finish. he hears the flush and the sound of the sink running, the door opens and you’re coming out of the bathroom, pulling your dress down. “are we gonna have sex?” you utter, slurring the end of your sentence. your alcohol poisoned mind taking over your ability to speak.

his eyes widen at the question. “no! no— oh my god, this is just the room with the cleanest bathroom, we’re not—“

you’re next to him now, “you don’t want to?” you pout. glassy eyes looking into his.

“no! i mean, yes, i want to but— fuck, just— just not now, yeah?” jungkook stumbles over his words, his face blushing a blood red. your pretty face peering up at him makes him even more flustered, his hands start to sweat.

“okay,” you nodded. your drunken brain deciding to stop the interrogation of jungkook’s desire for you. to which jungkook lets out a sigh of relief, taking your hand and bringing you out of the room, down the stairs, and out into the driveway. he brings you to his car, opening the passenger door for you. “wait, are we leaving already? yugyeomie wants me to play beer pong with him,” you complain, wiggling your hand from his grasp.

goosebumps appear on your arm when you make it outside of the house. jungkook notices when he turns around to look at you. without a second thought, he takes his jacket off and places it over your shoulders. the newfound warmth shielding you from the cold night. he didn’t mind the breeze, especially since he was still recovering from the stunt you pulled in the guest room.

“we can come back later if you want, let’s just go grab something to eat first so you won’t regret this tomorrow morning.” his explanation is pretty solid according to your drunken brain, so you oblige, moving to sit in his passenger seat.

he joins you in the driver’s seat not long after. “can we get mcdonald’s?” you ask as soon as he sits down.

a smile appears on his face as he starts the car, “sure.”

the drive made you feel a little dizzy, it makes you laugh. “you okay?” jungkook asks, but you nod your head. he’s so sweet, always asking if you’re okay, making sure you weren’t feeling too awful, etc. it only makes sense that you were falling head over heels for him.

“totally fine,” you look over to him with a smile on your face. he’s so fucking pretty, his side profile is something you could rave about for days. as he’s pulling into the mcdonald’s drive through, he’s talking into the intercom, ordering the two of you something to eat when you’re suddenly mumbling, “mcflurry, kookie, oreo mcflurry.”

he looks back to you, an amused smile on his face, “oreo mcflurry?” he repeats. you nod, “okay, anything for you.”

he reiterates the request into the intercom and the server gives him the greenlight. he drives forward and waits until the next car moves up, in the time being, he looks to you. your head laying up against the door and your eyes slowly blinking, warning him that you might fall asleep. so he reaches into his backseat, his arm looking for the water bottles that he usually keeps in his car.

“hey,” he taps your arm gently, “drink some of this first.” he hands you the water bottle, you blink slowly, trying to figure out what he was handing you. once you realize it was a water bottle, you take it, opening it and gulping some of the water down. jungkook is grabbing the food when you’re screwing the cap back on. he parks somewhere in the parking lot and tells you to start eating.

you grab your mcflurry first, the feeling of the cold ice cream on your tongue soothing your dizzy brain. “yum,” you think out loud.

jungkook laughs, taking out his hamburger while he takes out your chicken nuggets. “make sure to eat some of this, yeah? don’t want you throwing up and hating me.”

the thought makes you smile. jungkook was taking such great care of you. sure, he let you down the alcohol like it was nothing, but you never opposed to it, always taking the shot because you wanted to. now jungkook is here, taking care of you, because he wanted to. you knew that if it were anybody else, they probably would have left you at the party, letting you fend for yourself. the sudden warmth in your chest makes you want to tell jungkook everything.

with his jacket wrapped around you instead of him, you can see the bulge of his arm muscles peek out from the short sleeved shirt he was wearing. even drunk, your brain seems to travel back to the images from your dream. “you know, i had a dream about you, a reeaaaallllllyyyyy dirty dream, jeon jungkook.” you blurt out the confession before your thoughts catch up with you, the alcohol still very much blocking off the common sense part of your brain.

he tries his best not to overreact, but you had a dream about him? a dirty dream at that? it awakens something in jungkook, but he pushes it down, ignoring the feeling as he asks, “you did? what was it about?” he curious as to what you meant and what your dream entailed, but he didn’t want to push too far. especially since you were drunk and most likely just spilling everything because your brain doesn’t have the willpower to hold it back.

you stick your hand into the bag to steal some fries, stuffing them in your mouth. “oh, you don’t wanna know,” you chew.

jungkook quirks a brow, “well, was i good at least?” he jokes.

you scrunch your nose, nodding nevertheless. “too good, couldn’t even focus during the quiz because of it.”

jungkook is silent for a second. the conversation making him hot even though he wasn’t wearing his jacket anymore. so he clears his throat, trying to change the subject in a subtle manner. “is that why you were so mean to me this morning?” he pouts, connecting the dots.

you laugh at the question, “sorry, i didn’t mean to, i swear.”

with that, the rest of the time is spent eating. jungkook makes sure that you ate enough and drank enough water, the empty water bottle in his cupholder as proof. “do you want me to take you home now?” he asks, the two of you finished eating and now a silence takes over the car.

“are you going back?” you ask, fiddling with your fingers. he thinks you’ve started to sober up, or maybe have gotten to the point where you just want to sleep.

he shakes his head to your question, “honestly, i’m kind of tired, but if you want to go back, we can go.”

“no, i’m okay,” you decline the offer. jungkook laughs, starting the car again and driving back to your apartment complex.

you take this time to try to get yourself together. you know you’ll regret confessing to jungkook that you had a wet dream about him in the morning. but in the moment, it felt right to confess, (to your drunken brain of course). you tilt your head back, pushing your head against the headrest, and suddenly, you’re reminded of the stars jungkook has on his ceiling. you were silent as you admired the lights, jungkook takes a look at you when he’s stopped at a red light.

so cute, he thinks, staring up at his ceiling like it’s the real night sky. when he pulls up to your apartment complex, he wishes the night could be longer, that he could spend more time with you. he parks the car in the front, exactly where he picked you up. you’re looking to him now, your hands in your lap and your heart seemingly beating three times as fast as it usually does. it wasn’t the alcohol.

“did you have fun tonight?” he asks. his voice never fails to make you melt.

you nod, “i did.”

“i’m glad,” he smiles. there’s a small silence before he speaks once more, “also, y’know, you don’t have to stress yourself out so much, i know you might have expectations for yourself and stuff, but you should give yourself a break from time to time.”

the alcohol’s effects fading slowly from your brain when you start to realize that the entire reason jungkook invited you out was to help you destress. it makes you fall even harder, he was so thoughtful. even though a party wasn’t your scene, he invited you to give you a glimpse into how he has fun and hoped that it would help you loosen up a bit. you were grateful for the mental break he provided you.

you didn’t reply, purely because you were thinking about how much you want to kiss him right now, but it wouldn’t be right. when he speaks up again, there’s a nervous lilt in his voice, scared that he’s overstepped. “if you need anyone to help you— i don’t know, let loose? you can— you can always call me.” he scratches the back of his neck.

but you try your best to reassure him, smiling at the offer. “i will, thank you for tonight, jungkook, i really enjoyed it, despite being a lightweight.”

he laughs, staring at the way your face cutely scrunches when you giggle. he too, is fighting the urge to kiss you, because right now isn’t a good time. he wants to do it right. he doesn’t want to fuck it up with you. so instead, he hops out of the car and moves to open the door for you. helping you out of the car and walking you to your door, your hand in his.

“i’ll see you in class?” you turn to face him, squeezing his hand.

he nods, “yeah.” his signature bunny smile coming out to greet you a goodnight. “text me before you sleep?” he requests. you give him a thumbs up before he’s letting go of your hand and you’re sticking the key into your door, it’s then that you realize that you’re still wearing his jacket.

“oh!” you exclaim, taking the jacket off and handing it to him. but he holds his hand out to stop you.

“keep it, you can give it to me the next time we hang out, or something,” he suggests. you try to hide the growing smile behind a nod.

you hold onto his jacket, “goodnight, jungkook.”

he sticks his hands in his pockets, sending you another grin, “goodnight, ___.”

jungkook drives home, his empty apartment welcoming him. he plops down onto his bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes he was in because he was that tired. the events of today running through his mind.

he hopes you don’t think he was doing anything with those five girls. he saw you walk away when you did, he tried his best to escape the conversation, but they kept pulling him back. he gave up after ten tries of trying to get away, standing there for a good fifteen minutes listening to them babble about how much they missed him. jungkook had never rolled his eyes so many times in a conversation.

the talk the two of you had after was another thing taking over his mind. your dirty flirting and your dream you mentioned in the car had his imagination running all over the place. he didn’t want to push you when you explained, but he was very curious as to what he did in your dream, and how good it was for you to have it run through your mind all day.

his phone rings next to him. he turns and opens it, a smile on his face when he reads your message.

[12:32 am] you: hi jungkookieeeeeeeee

[12:33 am] you: im sleeping noww

[12:33 am] jungkook: alright cutie

[12:33 am] jungkook: goodnight! again 😂

[12:34 am] you: goodnight <3

he turns his phone off after that. looking up to his ceiling with a dumb smile on his face. his mind thinking of you and only you.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fan fiction #jeon jungkook fanfic #writing #bts #bts fic #bts fanfic #jjk #jjk fic #jjk fanfic #jjk writing #jungkook writing #fluff #smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #mine #jeongguk fic #jeongguk fanfic #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk #jeon jeongguk fic #bangtan #bangtan soyeondan #bangtan fic

[sweetestlamb]

Put On A Show

Summary: Cha-young goes to her high school reunion and brings a certain mafia guest. 

Author's note: I heard someone wanted a on top and in control CY so here it is! I already had this idea about a HS reunion so I simply combined the two ideas and got this smutty brainchild. This is rated E for extremely dirty so read at your own discretion, I planned on writing more fics of them pining but I really do love a women in control so I took a break from my cockblocking to fill this prompt. Hope you enjoy ;) 

Dear class of 2005,

That time has come once again, our class reunion! This year's reunion will be held in the Phoenix Hall in honor of us all rising from the ashes of this pandemic and being reborn stronger than ever before! Tickets available for purchase below. There are separate tickets for food and drinks and this year's theme will be luxury: a life of decadence. We look forward to seeing you all.

Cha-young skims the email that had initially landed in her spam folder, only the name of her old high school attached in the subject line catches her attention enough to make her open the otherwise nondescript email.

Another high school reunion.

She had been evading these gatherings like the plague itself, ever since the last time she'd made the mistake of going to one. She had just landed her job at Wusang Firm and finally felt confident in herself, in high school she'd always been the loud one and the weird one but now she was a lawyer and a damn good one if she said could say so herself. Nobody could dismiss her now or jokingly remind her of the bowl cut she had sported before, she was always the butt of their jokes and she was tired of feeling small beneath their condescending thumb. She finally had something worth bragging about. 

She'd stepped in with a smirk on her face, tight black dress and heels clicking as she walked waving at people she knew but didn't deign important enough to stop her entrance for a chat. The buffet table was her sole destination but she'd been intercepted by familiar annoying high pitched voices, Chang Ae-ram and Bom Min-he, the popular girls in her school and the banes of her existence both rushed over to her with drinks in their hands.

They never had anything kind to say to her and seemed to seek her out simply to put her down or remind her of how much of a “pathethic loser” she was in high school, as if she hadn’t been the one living her life. 

The verbal sparring began almost immediately, with them all battling for lead in the "my life is going great" contest, coyly listing their accolades and accomplishment and assertively she told them both about her new job at one of Korea's most successful and well known law firm.

"Oh." Ae-ram answered with a tight smile that pulled her surgically enhanced face into a wrinkleless grin. 

Score.

She sipped her drink feeling victorious as they both avoided her brazen eye contact. She had just opened her mouth to make her leave when a vindictive smile stretched over Min-he's face, "A job is so important but what about a family? Surely you don't plan on dying alone, how come you never bring anyone with you? We're all so sad that you don't have anyone still." She gripped the stem of her wine glass at the fake concern, suddenly the group was larger and everyone was congratulating Min-he on her engagement, the other woman waving the huge diamond on her finger in her face.

It was so vapid and stupid and she knew that it didn't make her any less of a woman that she didn't have a man but those words still burned. She had noticed that everyone was paired up and she was one of the only people who came alone, she'd been seeing someone before the reunion but at her mention of the gathering he had told her that "things were getting too serious for him" rolling out of her bed while tugging on his underwear and that had been the last she heard from him.

She'd spent the rest of the night on the outskirts avoiding her college mates and later stumbled out on her heels unsteady from the amount of liquor she'd consumed.

That had been her last reunion. She'd pointedly ignored all the invitations since then, the shame of that night still stinging all those years later. They only served as a reminder that she still had no one and regardless of how successful she was at her career she would be deemed undesirable by others.

It was such a fucking joke but she couldn't shake the insecurity despite knowing how false it was.

The sound of keys jingling near the front door knock her free from her reminiscing and she spins around to the sight of Vincenzo struggling to squeeze through the entrance with several bags in his arms, he never wants to make more than one trip- the overachiever. She nods her head in hello before trudging over to him without closing her laptop, greeting him easily with a peck on the lips freeing a few bags from his hands.

"Did you get my cookies?" She asks again despite the various text messages she had sent reminding him about her sweet treats, he rolls his eyes at her again swinging another bag into her waiting hands.

"Here. When I told you to text me necessities, cookies are not what I had in mind." He flicks her forehead lightly silencing her cry of pain with a follow-up kiss to the spot, she grumbles but stuffs the soft baked chocolate chip cookies into her mouth, cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk hoarding food for the winter.

Smooth as a well-oiled machine they put the groceries away, the sound of cabinets opening and closing the soundtrack for their movements. When everything is correctly put away, she makes her way back over to her laptop only then remembering what she'd been doing.

She stares at the screen contemplating her next move before she feels a familiar heavy weight on her shoulder, his breath is hot on her neck when he speaks, "What are you looking at?" He barely waits for her reply covering her hand on the sleek mouse, scrolling down to read the entire email. She waits anxiously in her seat as he reads the words out loud, obviously she had thought about him when she first received the email but her last experience had made her nervous about asking him to attend.

They hadn't been officially dating for long. They'd been too focused on taking down Babel and the aftermath had left them both with unanswered questions about the nature of their relationship. 

Only this time when she asked him the same question she'd been asking since he crash landed into her life unexpectedly, after everything  was over, he'd looked over at her and said in a small voice "Not if you want me to stay."

She'd been a coward and he had taken her silence as rejection and it had taken a dramatic and honestly cliché airport interruption, complete with her pushing past airport staff and screaming his name crying as they told her that the plane to Malta had already taken off.

She'd returned to her house with red rimmed eyes that widened into huge saucers at the sight of him in front of her house, large suitcase beside him.

Gasping she ran into his arms, as terrified as she'd felt that fateful night so long ago in the underpass. 

"I couldn't go."

He tugged her closer, burrowing his face in her thick hair and breathing harshly his voice was raw and rough like he'd been crying too.

"Because of me?" She asked shock laden in her words and that's when he drew away to stare into her eyes and with a defeated nod he said, "Because of you."

The rest had been history. He came inside with her and he hadn't left since.

"Are you going?"

She stills at the inquiry, head dizzy from the memories racing through her mind.

"What?"

He places a finger on the computer screen, "This reunion. Are you going?"

She feels a small sting in her chest at his words, with a sad smile she starts to shake her head in decline but then he chuckles, "We should go. I'll be your arm candy." He teases wagging his eyebrows in her peripheral.

Oh.

"You want to come with me?" She repeats stunned by his casual offer, this seemed huge for some reason and she could feel her heart pounding erratically in her brittle chest.

He finally straightens up walking off to the kitchen grabbing a cup, pulling the fridge open.

"Yeah I mean unless you have another boyfriend you want to bring with you."

She laughs at his joke but internally her blood sings, she didn't want to get her hopes up but now she can barely contain her happiness.

She can always count him to have her back.

Slamming the laptop shut she circumvents the chair running over to him, he looks at her with a raised eyebrow prying the cup of water from his hands she pulls him down into a grateful kiss. He hums low when she slips her tongue into his lax mouth, this kiss vastly different from the peck she'd greeted him with at the door.

She can taste the caffeine on his tongue, the strong flavor of his favorite espresso swirling around her taste buds, pushing him firmer into the counter she laps at his mouth eager for a deeper exploration. He melts under her touch letting her manhandle him and move his head as she sees fit, his complete surrender makes her hot under the collar.

It's with reluctance that she pulls away from his addicting lips.

She smirks as he sways into her body as if intoxicated.

"Sorry. We have to go soon, it's game night."

It's a weekly tradition at the plaza, tonight they're playing Taboo, it had been announced in the group chat that Mr. Nam had forced them to join. It was chaotic with so many different voices there but it made her feel warm, like they were their own little family.

He groans disappointed but nods slowly, adjusting himself discretely but not enough for her vigilant eyes. She stares at the hardon visible through the thin material of his sweatpants.

"Let's go before you get me any more excited." He grumbles, picking up the snacks he'd purchased for tonight. She smiles triumphantly at his back still in disbelief that she has that kind of power over the great Corn Salad, Vincenzo Cassano.

Game night is a success, filled with laughter and playful arguing. They all work together in pairs and their team loses horribly with her accidentally shouting out all the taboo words every time it's her turn. Mi-Ri and Larry Kang- from the dance studio make a great team using dance moves and inside jokes to solve their words in seconds much to everyone’s shock, they both adamantly deny any change in their relationship at the groups subsequent teasing.

Nobody believes them. 

Just like they hadn’t believed her and Vincenzo. 

They get home at midnight and both collapse before they can finish what they started earlier in the kitchen, but cuddling is great too. He’s always the little spoon. 

The reunion isn't a point of conversation again and she almost forgets about it completely until it's Saturday, the day of the event and she wakes up alone. It's not totally abnormal with him being a morning person but she still groans in annoyance at his disappearance. The bed is so cold without his body letting off heat like a human furnace.

The sun is high in the sky when she finally pulls herself out of bed much later, 12:45pm according to her phone and she sits up with a full body stretch, body popping and cracking.

"Vincenzo? Are you here?" She calls out to the empty house, receiving no reply.

With a sigh she goes to shower and brush her teeth, he should be back soon from wherever he went.

When she finally comes out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam following her she pauses at the package on the bed. A huge white box catches her eye, the gold silken bow striking across the large rectangle. Taking a closer step she runs a finger across the smooth material in wonder.

There's a note and immediately she recognizes the distinctive penmanship.

Open me.

Not needing to be told twice she tugs the bow watching it unraveling before lifting the top of the box, peering inside with glowing eyes.

She lets out a soft gasp at the sight of the piercing white material that is almost perfectly camouflaged in the matching box. She lifts it with awe, watching material unfurl until she can see it clearly. It's a dress made from expensive fabric based on the its luxurious feel in her hands and her eyes widen at the cape that hangs lower than the dress itself.

"He was listening to me."

She remembers her group chat with the ladies from the plaza, sending them different options for her reunion and letting them help to pick it her outfit. She wanted something that would garner attention but that still felt like her, and that's when she'd seen it. The new Alexander Wang collection, all white blazer dress with a cape and button details, it looked like luxury and she knew it had to be hers.

The ladies had all been in agreement sending her thumbs up emojis and demanding that she purchase the stunning dress. She'd quickly added it to her cart but much to her dismay as she'd been entering her card information, that dreaded message popped up at the top of her screen.

This item is no longer available. Sorry, try again. 

Her heart had sunk and despite Miri's computer savvy and Yeon-Jin 's online shopping prowess they had not been able to locate the dress on any other site. It was sold out, everywhere.

Or so she thought.

Wordlessly she slips into the dress and surprisingly it fits like a glove, as if it was tailored just for her but that can't be.

"I'll zip that up for you."

She jumps at the dark voice behind her and then a chill runs up her spine at his fingertips on her bare back. He slides the thick curtain of her hair to the side to zip it up the rest of the way, their eyes meet in the full length mirror across the room.

"You look beautiful." He compliments easily, eyes caressing her body from her head down to her bare toes.

She feels like a goddess under his eyes.

"Where did you get this? It was sold out everywhere." She stares at him in wonder and he smiles at her gaping mouth, "I called in a favor. I knew a designer who owed me a favor." He shrugs as if it's nothing that he knows designers who are connected to the Alexander Wang, she's still not used to his influence.

Wait.

"Do you know Alexander Wang?" She shouts in surprise spinning to stare at him and his easy smile and open hand gesture is enough of an answer.

"I got your measurements from Mr.Tak. I wanted tonight to be perfect for you."

Her nerves have been shot all week, it's true that they haven't discussed the reunion at all but that doesn't mean it hasn't been on a mind even haunting her dreams.

She didn't want to be embarrassed again. She knew that she shouldn't let them get to her, she didn't have to prove herself to anyone but for once she just wanted to make them all eat those condescending words. She wanted to show them that she was the same weird girl from high school but she was even more now, also a successful woman and there was nothing wrong with being both sides of those coins. 

Without her even saying one word he'd been able to detect how important this night was for her.

"Thank you." She breathes tears glistening on her eyes, he wraps both arms around her waist beaming at her in the mirror.

"Don't thank me yet you didn't even see the shoes yet."

Without waiting for her answer he steps away to lift a pair of sparkling shoes from the box, the red soles immediately notifying her of the exorbitant brand.

She gapes at the shoes and then a smirking Vincenzo and then back at the shoes, "Are you crazy? Are those Louboutin's?" She asks the obvious question turning the shoes over to stare at the vibrant scarlet soles. A certain Bronxite’s voice blaring in her head about blood shoes. 

"They did say the theme was luxury. I thought these were just right for you." Squealing like a kid in candy store she sits down on the bed with both shoes in hand, but before she can slip them on he's lowering himself to his knees. The sight is enough to stop her in her tracks, her traitorous imagination running wild at the implications and possibilities. When he takes the shoes from her loose grip she merely watches as he slides the shoes onto her feet, just like the dress they too fit perfectly.

"I feel like Cinderella." She chuckles trying to break the tension and the swell in her chest but his bright smile only makes her chest constrict tighter, she doesn't know if she'll survive tonight.

"Hong Cha-young!" She freezes at the sound of Ae-ram's squealing voice only pausing for a moment before turning with a tense smile.

Here we go.

The woman is flagged by her usual posse and parrots, who are always ready to echo her biting remarks and she gulps down her dirty martini needing some liquid courage.

As if sensing her unease instantly Vincenzo takes the hand that was artistically placed in the pocket of his fitting white dress pants and curls it around her waist, grounding her with the simple touch. She turns to him and he greets her with a calming smile that she can't help but return.

I've got your back. He says with only a slight lift of his lips.

She takes a deep breath.

Ae-ram's smile dims as she gets closer to them, her eyes honed on the hand on her hip and she leans fully into the warm body pressed against her side.

Min-he speaks first, an equally constipated smile on her face, "Who's this? You've never brought anyone before. Is this a work friend?" She almost rolls her eyes at the ridiculous question, as if work friends would be this comfortable with each other. They're already finding excuses, grasping at straws and creating complicated solutions for something that is easy to understand simply because they don’t think she’s worthy of attention. That large hand tightens lightly before a light chuckle reaches her ear, “Vincenzo Cassano, lawyer and the lucky man who gets to call her my mine.” She fidgets in his hold blushing at his bold introduction and watching all eyes widen at them, nobody speaks at first clearly in shock at the revelation. 

“Vinshenzo? What kind of name is that?” Someone harps from the back of the crowd and she feels her hackles rise, yes she might have struggled with the pronunciation of his name at first but it felt petty and intentional right now not an honest mistake like her mispronunciation had been. 

But before she can unleash her anger, another old classmates breaks the tense stalemate.

“Oh you’re the Italian lawyer I heard about on the new, who took down Babel! Great job!” 

She had also helped with that, them being a team but nobody seems to care about that all focusing on Vincenzo, all herding around her Italian like he’s a celebrity and she watches shock as he easily wins them over. 

“Sì, ero io. Il piacere è tutto tuo.” Yes that was me, the pleasure is all yours. 

The group minus Ae-ram and Min-he all oh and ah at his effortless Italian despite having no clue what exactly he just said, she too is clueless at the quickly stated sentence but the mischievous smirk on his handsome face informs her of all that she needs to know, he is mocking them right to their faces. She hides a smile behind her hands, pretending to cough into her fingers. 

Wordlessly, the group separates based on sex-she watches helplessly as Vincenzo is tugged away in a boisterous discussion about the state of Korean football- and she is left alone with those harpies but unlike the other reunions suddenly she is the most interesting woman there, regardless of Ae-ram trying to steal the show with pictures of her new full breed dog. She watches amused as the other woman is pushed aside and she is accosted on both sides, questions firing off like rockets. 

“Where did you meet him?”

“Does he have a brother?”

“When are you getting married? You have to marry him!”

“Does he always smell that good?”

She turns flabbergasted to hear that question coming from Ae-ram’s right hand woman, Min-he and Ae-ram glares at her looking betrayed before she storms off with her professional head shots of her dog. She expects Min-he to trail after the spiteful primadonna but to her shock the other woman moves in closer, joining the firing brigade with their million questions about the handsome Italian. 

They all settle down when the man they are so curious about returns, hand back on her waist like that its resting place. 

Her ears ring from their coos and shrill “awws” but she leans into him nonetheless happy to have him back, already exhausted dealing with these people. 

Then she notes that the tone of the questions suddenly shift as they begin to bombard the Italian Korean all at once. There are....more flirtatious when speaking to him and she feels her blood curl at the unprecedented change. 

“Are all Italians this handsome?” Her eye twitches at the bold inquiry, subconsciously she feels her eyes narrow into slits as she glares at the woman who was brave stupid enough to ask that. The bitch blanches at her sneer but still flutters her eyelashes at Vincenzo waiting for his response, she clears her throat loudly answering for him, “He’s one of a kind and fortunately all mine. “ She can feel the smug bastard preening next to her practically buzzing from her compliment, and she quickly makes their escape, “Please excuse us.” Vincenzo smoothly tips his drinks at the women, “Addio,” he bids farewell in Italian arm still hooked around her waist as she sashays away, Louboutin's clicking on the marble tile floor. 

The scrap of Italian leaves them all in a frenzy, whispering wildly behind them. 

She drags them to the bar, ordering two shots of soju and another dirty martini ignoring his examining stare. 

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” She already knows the answer to her question, it’s written all over him and she tries to stifle the jealousy that wants to rear its  ugly head. 

He looks over at her with a lazy grin, trying to appear innocent. She isn’t fooled for one second. 

“Me? I’m not doing anything. I’m only here for you.” 

She scoffs at him, staring at his annoyingly handsome face and his gleaming white suit he discarded the jacket earlier and his arms have been distracting her all night. 

“You love the attention.” 

He rubs his neck before turning to her fully, leaning on the bar counter. 

“What? Are you jealous of the attention I’m getting? isn’t that why you brought me to make you look good?” 

She wants to deny it and laugh at him, but even now she can hear the voices in the distance all intrigued by the Italian and the bartender’s eyes linger just a minute too long as the smooth Lawyer throws his free shot back in one fluid motion. She should be used to it by now, everyone in a ten mile radius getting a hard on for the Korean Italian. She understands why he gets all this attention, he is gorgeous that was one of the many reasons that she had fallen for him too but sometimes it can be intimidating to be with someone that so many others desire and so obviously too. 

She wonders if she even deserves him. 

Was she enough for him? 

“What’s going on in that pretty little head?” He taps her on her forehead dragging her from her self-deprecation. “Do you know why they’re all so mean to you?” He suddenly asks and she stares at him before shaking her head no. 

Probably because she’s a hot fucking mess. 

“They’re jealous of you.” 

A burst of laughter slips free at this speculation and she watches as his face tightens, “You really don’t know do you?” His voice is liquid fire, smoky and dark like the tendrils from a cigarette. 

“What are you talking about?” She manages to get out despite being lost in his voice. 

“How sexy you are.” He leans over to whisper directly in her heated ears, she moans lightly at his breath on her skin. 

That is hardly ever a word that she has heard used to describe her, Hong Cha-young. 

Clumsy. Forgetful. Selfish. Loud. Demanding. Too Much. 

Those words she had heard all her life but never sexy. She was too strange to be sexy. 

“You’re smart and beautiful and you have a successful career. You aren’t afraid to be yourself and now you have me on your arm. You have everything and they wish they were you, they’re jealous.” He repeats firmer this time, rubbing a large thumb across her bottom lip and grinning down at her with barely contained glee. 

She starts to deny his claim but then she looks behind her and sees nothing but a sea of envy, women and men both looking at them and she notes not all eyes are on Vincenzo a few men seemed lost in the low cut dip of her dress and the miles of naked skin on display. 

She gasps at the hard line that pokes at her bottom when he leans into her back, standing flush her back to his front. She shivers when he leans down to breathily say, “Everyone is watching, why don’t we give them a show?” 

This is not like her, at all. 

She has never been a fan of public displays of affection, even screaming at horny strangers in the past to get a room but she feels all that restraint leave her body at his challenge. Driving her body back into his jutting erection she slowly grinds in perfect rhythm to the song playing over the stereo. 

She feels seductive as the music curls around her and she lifts her arms to wrap around his neck, bringing him ever closer and pushing back harder delighted at the groan that escapes his lips. He is coiled tightly behind her but he doesn’t move a muscle letting her have complete control over their interaction and she has never felt more powerful. Continuing to sway she leans back when he tightens his grip around her waist, mewling as his nose rubs at her earlobe and letting out a soft gasp when he blows on the tender flesh. 

When she peels her heavy lids open, there are so many hungry and watchful eyes on them. 

Ae-ram looks scandalized and she can see the woman pointing at them but she can’t hear a word that she’s saying the blood in her ears is too loud, drowning out all other sounds. 

It must be the liquor in her veins because seeing all the voyeurs only makes her bolder, before she can second guess herself she spins around much to Vincenzo’s chagrin but she silences him with a finger on his lip. 

“Follow me.” 

He arches a thin eyebrow but eagerly obeys her command when she tugs him in the direction of the bathroom. 

She hears several gasps behind her as she tugs open the door stepping inside, dragging him right behind her the silence is deafening when he closes the door behind them, turning the lock with a metallic snap. 

Her breath comes out in hurried puffs. 

What the fuck am I doing? She asks herself, wondering if this is what people call an out of body experience. 

“We don’t have to do anything. Their imaginations will do the rest.” 

He’s giving her an out. 

Gripping his hands tighter, she pulls him over to the toilet which is thankfully clean using her feet to slam the seat down before pushing down him to sit. He looks up at her with inquisitive eyes, waiting for her next move but lets himself be manhandled the second time this night. 

“Thank you for everything tonight,” she covers his mouth with her hands as she climbs into his lap, whatever words he had on his tongue evaporate when their groins meet. 

“I know I don’t say this enough, but I love you.”  

She has only ever said it once before and he’d been sleeping, they both knew he wasn’t truly asleep but he let her pretend and she appreciated it but there was no way she couldn’t say it now, tonight. He had been her prince charming when she had expected nothing. 

“Are you serious? You say it to me in her-” She pops open his pants button cutting off his stunned response and he stares at her, making her feel hot. 

“Talk later?” She begs and her request is backed by her hand disappearing through the slit in his pants and wrapping around his dick, the hot muscle twitching fiercely in her hold. 

He chokes out word that sounds like a jumbled “yes” and that’s all the consent she needs to stroke him harder, using his precum to glide her hand down from the tip to the base and then back up again, he lets out a punched out groan at her purposeful handling of his imported goods. 

Shifting back marginally, she gives herself more room tugging his pants down further to get a better look at the pretty pink cock, it’s standing at attention and weeping for her and rubs harder twisting in a corkscrew motion on the mushroom head much to his pleasure, he thrusts up into her hand and immediately she lets go. 

“Please,” he whines so prettily and she tsks at him, “Don’t move, you can only take what I give you. You said you were mine right?” 

She doesn’t know what has come over her but seeing all those women and men lusting over her boyfriend makes her want to remind them and him, just who he belongs to. 

She expects him to put up some sort of fight, instead he nods eagerly at her command stilling his hip and she can see the strain in his white knuckled grip on the toilet edge. 

“Good boy.” She praises and notes with stunned satisfaction the way his dick jumps at the praise too, interesting. 

She starts with a light pace, stroking with the barest amount of pressure before she starts to grip him tighter when he groans at the dryness of her hands she leans over to spit on his head, this makes him hiss and fight to stay still in her grip she rewards him with a kiss to his flushed red head. The wet sounds of her hands stroking his hot meat fills the small space of the bathroom and lifting one hand she grabs his tie using it to yank him into a hard kiss, he opens up for her immediately letting her tongue explore his mouth. 

She has never seen this mafia man so docile, it’s like seeing a lion behave like a house cat. 

With a hard suck at his bottom lip, she breaks their kiss leaving them to pant into each other’s mouth harshly. 

She didn’t know how far she actually planned on going but now nothing seems like enough, she needs more. 

Staring deep into his eyes, she stands up releasing her grip on him and he sighs watching her confused before she slides both hands under her dress and slowly pulls down her panties, they are tiny, white and lace, matching her bra and he looks mesmerized as they are pried down her legs. 

“Are you sure?” He’s still checking on her and she smiles at him, stepping out of the panties and cheekily putting them in his pocket, “Give them safe for me,” she doesn’t give him a chance to reply before sinking back down onto him, his dick is hard and thick but she’s so wet that he glides into her like they are two matching pieces of a puzzle.  An erotic puzzle. 

“Fuck!” He shouts when he bottoms out and his cock is completely encased in her tight walls, his voice echoes off the bathroom walls. 

She grabs his tie, making his eyes pop open and she watches amused as he sputters as she stuffs the expensive material into his mouth. 

“You’re being too loud.” She teases remembering all the times he had been the one admonishing her as she screamed beneath him. 

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” He echoes her words from spitting out the tie and she can’t deny it, so instead she rocks forward taking even more of him simultaneously shoving the wet tie back into his mouth listening to his barely muffled grunts. She rises up on the tips of her toes, her red bottoms giving her that extra bit of height, his hard tip popping free with a wet squelch before she slams back down onto him titling her head back and moaning to the ceiling. 

He’s being so good, not moving at all simply letting her fuck down on him and she can tell his control is slipping every time he grips her waist too tightly, painfully. 

She continues to ride him, chasing her own pleasure and whimpering when his blunt head slides across her engorged bead, rocking vigorously up and down as she feels the end drawing near. She tightens her hold on his shoulder, using him as leverage to ride him faster, his thighs tense under the weight of her body and her rapid pace. 

The wet smacks fill the air filthily and she feels dirty, absolutely nasty but instead of shame an intense wave of pride barrels over her. 

“You’re mine.” She whispers out loud to herself but he misinterprets the words and eagerly nods at the statement thinking she wants him to declare that he’s hers, “Yes I am yours, all yours,” and she loses her mind, pistoning herself rapidly on his lap before pleasure surges through her body, starting in her toes and curling up her thighs and she rocks her nipples into his chest through their layers of clothes, she muffles her cry in his throat roughly pulling at the skin there to silence her deafening screams. 

It’s only then that he breaks the rules, reaching up to grab her shoulders and yanking her down to meet his vicious upward thrust and waves and waves of thick streams fill her up until she feels it leaking at the sides. 

There is no sound besides their louds pants. 

Then two loud knocks make them both jump from their wrecked state, his softening length falling from her grip. 

“This is the only bathroom.” A voice calls out disgusted and with a gasp she stands up straightening her dress and running a hand through her hair before realizing that it’s still sticky, great. 

Vincenzo is a puddle on the toilet, legs spread apart and softened dick not yet tugged away, he looks like sin reincarnated and it takes everything not to initiate another round. 

“Come on lover boy,” she tugs him up pulling him up and zipping up his pants, then she moves him over to the sink washing her hands and making him do the same. Their eyes meet in the mirror and that’s when she sees much how debauched they truly look, when he turns to look at the hickey she sucked into his pale skin while trying to be quiet she finally feels the ability to be embarrassed returning. 

it’s huge and red, almost purple, covering the thick column of his throat and he winces when he rubs at it. 

“I’m sorry, I got carried away.” She apologizes but its for naught because he grins at her proudly, “You were just claiming what’s yours.” 

His words light another fire under her skin and it’s only the pounding on the door that stops her from jumping him again. 

When they finally pull the door open, none other than a blanched face Ae-ram is on the other side. The woman looks shocked to see them both standing in front of her and the gears begin to slowly turn and a bright blush rushes up her unnaturally high cheekbones while color evacuates the rest of her face. 

“Are you serious?!” 

She doesn’t stay to hear the rest of the woman’s snide remark, all eyes are on them as she walks over to the bar to grab her discarded purse and Vincenzo’s jacket, the bartender winks knowingly at them looking equal parts aroused and jealous and she chortles, winking back. 

He hands them two shots, “It’s on the house,” he looks them up and down languidly licking his lips and she slams back the bitter liquid before turning to Vincenzo, his lips are shiny and now wet under the bright lights. 

“Let’s get out of here.” She slams the shot glass on the counter, pulling him out the door. 

He hastily swallows his drink, letting her tug him out the door into the cool night air. 

“You didn’t let me answer you before, but me too.” 

She looks at him from the corner of her eye, the wind causing her to sober up and it takes a minute to understand what he’s talking about. She shifts awkwardly when she ultimately realizes nodding while looking away, their cab is three minutes away. 

“I love you too, Hong Cha- young.” 

As if she didn’t already know. It was too obvious after tonight. 

#vincenzo #vincenzo cassano #hong cha young #rated E #smut with feelings #chayenzo #CCFC2021 #top CY

[redxblueihateloveyou]

Am I the only one who doesn’t get why some (tw) are shitting on Haru and Rin separately just for the fact that they reciprocate each others feelings? Because it’s not the feelings they wanted them to reciprocate? Just curious because I'm new and recently entered the fandom. And since when miscommunication in between means that they don't deserve to be happy at the end? Because you're an idiot when it comes to love, doesn't mean you're a bad person. I came from chinese bl and it's weird to me.

Hehe welcome to the madness, perfect time to join! Yeah, tbh that's the thing in the fandom that always bugged me the most. The fact that some act like if you don't reciprocate someone's feelings, it makes you a bad person. I always found it incredibly cringy when ppl in real life for example make ppl feel guilty for not feeling the same way and make you feel like shit bc of it. I don't get why you have to apologize for that or feel bad, if you never ever gave him any hope or anything in the first place.

Nowdays it's thankfully a rare sight already in this fandom, bc most already grown and see perfectly what's truly healthy and unhealthy, it's just tbh only the same 3 accounts ppl keep sending me that are still on that, who also think that Haru is literally possessed in the last movie so I don't see the point of like arguing with ppl like this. It's just they're always getting extremely angry when Haru wants Rin as if it's his fault that he feels this way and always go about it like he is inconsiderate of Makoto's feelings. Implying that they're mad that he doesn't feel that way about Makoto, while Makoto does. I'm same as @tododeku-or-bust for example said here (idk what fandom brought this on, but just in general) also do not get what's appealing about this kind of relationships in the first place.

If they shipped it in terms of like it's mutual I'd get it, but they go on about how Rin or Haru are bad friends bc they're not in love with their best friends... like ?????? I didn't know you owe it to your friends to have romantic feelings for them.

In real life if you found out that your bestie feels that way for you while you don't reciprocate, it's a burden, that'll make you feel uncomfortable and at times guilty when you shouldn't technically feel that way. So putting on someone a burden of "I was pining for you all along", when you know they don't feel the same is giving me this feeling of cringe. So I personally do not get what's enjoyable at seeing it like that in Free. But to each their own kink lmao.

It's like... is Haru at fault for the fact that he was Ikuya's first love too? I do not get it really. Like he doesn't have to take responsibility for everyone who falls for him and he doesn't owe anyone to reciprocate their feelings. Even to Rin. Like if he didn't feel the same way for Rin, it wouldn't be his fault either. But since he does feel the same way for him, it's like... good, great, happy for them.

Like once again if someone believes that Makoto and Sousuke are unrequitedly in love with Rin and Haru, that's not rinharu fault. Haru literally never ever lead Makoto on EVER. He never ever did anything that would make Makoto believe that they're more than friends. He was always honest about everything. Like when Makoto thought that he went out to see him, but Haru just wanted to see the sunrise, he told him just that. He never encoraged anything, he refused to live with him and never wanted. I do not get why it's supposed to be his fault that he doesn't like his friend in that way. If Makoto has some unrequited feelings for him and decided to hang up on this, it's his own life choice in my opinion.

It's like saying that Onodera and Takano for example don't deserve to be together just because they unintentionally hurt each other and got separated for 10 years bc of misunderstanding. This argument is like typical Yokozawa life position aka "but I was there when he left you heartbroken for several years, that means you MUST pick me". As I've said before, that's just not how it fucking works. And just bc they couldn't explain things to each other normally, doesn't mean that they don't deserve be happy now. Being idiots is not a crime.

Or if you came from chinese bl, lets go "Guardian" for example. Zhu Hong also was on about how "why you love Shen Wei, not me, I always did everything for you and I was always there, I even wore heels bc you once said you liked those etc". Like he never asked her to do this, he never gave her any hope, he was beyond rude and open about the fact that he's not interested, he never did anything to make her think she had a chance since the beginning. Just bc she decided to dedicate her life to false hope that maybe one day something might change is not his fault. It was her choice. Why Yunlan should feel like shit bc of that I do not get personally.

I'm just buffled bc like Haru for example is the most caring about other ppl's pain person, but they call him selfish and rude bc of the way he is with Makoto at times, not even realising that it IS in fact what means being kind sometimes.. to not give someone a chance when you know you don't feel it. I was always saying this like since forever, being kind doesn't mean for example giving everyone second chances, loving everyone, wanting to be friends with anyone etc. In some situations it's not being kind, it's being stupid or even not being a good person. Once again... offering someone friendship after he openly dissed your friend and you see that he's not in any position to talk back is not kind. Or if someone cheats on you constantly, but you always forgive them it's also not you being kind. It's you being stupid. Sometimes you have to be harsh. It's for the greater good.

And like I saw several times stuff like someone under scenes where Rin has his eyes for Haru only, commenting like "oh great, look at Rin being inconsiderate of Sousuke's feelings again. Can't believe you guys find this romantic." I mean, if in their opinion Sousuke is in pain from being Rin's friend, he can end it, it's his choice. It's not Rin's fault that he thinks of him as just his friend. So thinking that Rin is an asshole bc each time he simply hangs out with Sousuke he's a selfish bitch is fucking insane. I'd feel extremely bad if my best friend was seeing it this way for example. It's like hella ugly.

This annoys me also bc of the fact that Rin, the person who at the age of 12 single-handedly saved his family from falling apart after his father's death, who's an amazing friend to Sousuke and did everything to make his happy after he found out about his trauma and always checks on him first and cries about his shoulder, who in the late evenings taught Rei to swim, when everyone else gave up already xD, who was looking after Nitori during his training, who pretends to walk the same road, just because he's scared to let Gou return alone in the evenings, the most amazing son and brother, is suddenly an asshole just because Haru is in love with him, but not with Makoto. I mean, thats just... huh? Like I dont mind you ship what you want to ship, it's like to each their own crayons for real. But like dissing them and call them selfish just bc they only see their friends as friends and don't want anything more is weird to me.

As for the fact that bc of the misunderstanding they don't deserve to be happy, that's just idiotic. I mean, lets punish Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan too just bc Lan Zhan couldn't voice his real feelings back then and bc WWX misunderstood him. Lets ship WWX with Wen Ning instead. Nezumi is cancelled, he doesn't deserve to be with Shion. He left him. Takano should stay with Yokozawa, Onodera is trash. Wu Xie is trash for wanting to be with Zhang Qiling too. It doesn't matter why he leaves, it only matters that he always does. I can't believe he doesn't see that Pangzi is there with him all along xD. What an ungrateful trash of a human being I can't even.

And anyways btw both Rin and Haru are not ideal human beings in any way (otherwise I wouldn't love them this much tbh xD). But their flaws are definitely not what for example mh shippers usually blame them for. You can argue about their other imperfections easily. Like being stupidly stubborn for example. I won't point fingers here, Haru lolz. Or literally anything else.

My point is you can find what to trash them for logically, if you wanna. Do it smartly tho. Otherwise you make your ship look bad.

And I once again say what wise person said about his relationships and about the fact that not being able with someone he loves hurt him and 'why is he doing this to himself' he answered: "it's not on him. my happiness and my pain is for me to handle". Everyone decides for themselves. This is why for example Haru was so broken about voicing this to Rin and didn't have any intentions to tell him that in the first place. Bc it's not right, if you're not sure that it's requited. Technically he has no right to blame Rin for making him fall in love with him and then leaving in the first place. It's not Rin's fault really, that he made him feel what he feels for him, it's ultimately Haru's problem. That's why he feels has no right to blame him in the first place. I mean, he doesn't know that Rin feels the same, that means saying to him "you break my heart each time you leave" and making him feel bad about it is technically wrong. That's why Haru to himself said "no, please, don't say such things to him". Everyone for himself decides who deserves your 5, 7, 800 or 10000 years of your pain. It's your decision. It's your life. If Haru feels like Rin is worth it, then you have no say in that matter really. The only reason we call Rin an idiot or Haru an idiot is because we know they feel the same, so we can. But blame someone else for not feeling what you're feeling is not right.

So like even if you feel like Makoto and Sousuke have feelings for their friends, blaming Haru and Rin for having feelings for each other and not for them is beyond weird. And there's nothing wrong with putting someone you love first, every bro/sis gets it. You can say bros before hoes all you want, but like Lan Zhan might just drop his bro for his hoe, if he was given a choice. Would it make him a bad person? The fact that Wu Xie chose to save Xiaoge before Pangzi makes his a bad person? My point is it's not all that easy.

I just feel like many ppl in this fandom are very weird about many things. Either because they do not get what it's like to go through some things or maybe they just do not get that no matter how cheesy this sounds love is not that simple. I mean, for example not all selfish is bad, sometimes like in Haru's case for example not being selfish is also bad. Bc if he finally asks for what he wants, he will make both himself AND Rin happy.

To be angry at Rin bc of the aftermath of his father's death and s1 I never had it in me, after knowing everything and how adults handled it. If some of Sousuke's fans bc of Yakusoku and the fact that Rin found his salvation in Haru bc he helped him to move forward after getting his family out of this hell alone and that Haru was the safe haven that made him happy in this moment of his life, want to trash Rin for the fact that he "neglected" Sousuke, its like your opinion. I personally do not get it. Rin doesn't owe Sousuke anything. It's not his fault again that Haru's existence helped him to feel better.

Just like not everyone will get why Haru in 1x12 was so happy about the fact that he could help Rin. To be that special somebody for someone who can "save" you in moments of your life like this, especially if you love them is an incredible feeling. And no, your bestie isn't always the person for this job, no. I don't see why people do not get that I guess, that's all. But we all have our own opinion on everything, so...

We same as you do not get it since forever, but its like it is what it is in this fandom. I personally just have another life position on stuff, so I'm very far from that point of view they have.

#answered #anonymous #rinharu #harurin #free! #nanase haruka #rin matsuoka

[sp00kyjellybeans]

Constant Pining [Mickey Altieri x reader]

A/N: part two because i think the last one deserves a follow up :> For this one, I decided to play with the fact that Mickey is a film student, so I kind of figured he would use it to his advantage. btw tho this feels super choppy and cheesy in the bad way so idk how to feel ab it:’) pls lmk what you guys think bc i might rewrite it and cut half of this out

Word Count: 3,425

Warnings: None, this is like... super fluffy

---

It had been two weeks since the party and it was driving Mickey insane. He wasn’t sure what was worse. The fact that life carried on as usual or the fact that you were completely unfazed. He would have preferred if you were all over him or, hell, if you were avoiding him.

Because then he would know how you feel.

But he didn���t. The poor guy hadn’t the slightest clue. Life went on nonetheless. Some days he was able to sit next to you in Psychology (if Halley didn’t try kicking him out of her seat) and the two of you were normal during friend settings. But you never showed up to another party.

Mickey gnawed at his pencil. It was whittled down to practically nothing. He was supposed to be focused on a project that he and Randy were assigned in Film Theory but instead... You were on his mind.

“Can you stop eating that pencil and quit thinking about (Y/n)!” Randy threw a small notebook at Mickey’s head. Mickey snapped out of his daze and easily dodged it. “We need to work on this shit together. I don’t need (Y/n) clouding my camera man’s mind.”

“I’m not even-”

“Save it. You’ve been making the same face for two weeks straight now. It’s the (Y/n)-face. Sid and I coined it.”

Mickey muttered a curse word under his breath and reached for the notebook that was thrown at him. It was Randy’s film book. He flipped through some pages. It was filled with notes for class and film-analysis. Half of the analyses weren’t even assigned for class.

“What are we doing for this again?” Mickey rolled his eyes and threw the notebook onto a table. He propped up his feet and leaned back in his chair. 

The two boys were in a conference room of the film school. A chalkboard had been dirtied with Randy’s ideas for their film project while Mickey was mentally vacant for the time being. The project was to make a movie, each group was assigned a different genre. They were content with being partners, seeing as Randy had the ideas and Mickey had a knack for cinematography. 

“We were assigned to do a documentary.”

“Fucking lame... Everyone else got cool shit. I heard Terry Pusher was assigned fantasy... Fucking fantasy.”

“I know, hell I’d take a love story over this shit,” Randy threw the piece of chalk at the board. 

Mickey paused and sat up. His expression was twisted as if he were onto something. 

“Wait... say that again...”

“I’d take a love story over this shit?” Randy tilted his head.

Mickey stood to his feet and pointed at his geeky friend, an excited expression was evident.

“Exactly.”

The sea of students stormed past you. Your final class of the day ended early so you were more than eager to get back to your dorm. Your roommate was gone for the weekend so hopefully some quiet would get your mind off of Mickey.

The events of the party had been bouncing around the walls of your mind ever since it happened. A part of you thanked Halley for stepping in when she did and a part of you cursed her for it.

You couldn’t fathom dating Mickey. It was unheard of. New. Exhilarating. He was probably one of the hottest guys on campus and he had his hands on your waist.

Sure, he was a total nerd when it came to movies, especially for Tarantino films, and you could listen to his rants for hours, but the thought of him wanting you made your heart skip a beat. If he reciprocated any sort of feelings you’d be sent into cardiac arrest. Did he like you? Was that even possible?

He could have anyone at this school. He knew it, too. But it was possible he could choose you.

Before you were able to expand on that thought, a camera was shoved into your face. 

“And here we have the wonderful, the amazing, the magnificently stunning (Y/n)!” Mickey’s voice imitated a sports announcer. 

His sudden appearance was enough to make your cheeks go ablaze. 

“What are you doing?” You winced and shielded your face.

Randy appeared behind Mickey, “Film project, you’re a part of it!”

“Puh-lease, if anything, they are the star of the film, Meeks!”

You continued to walk to your dorm in hopes of avoiding the nerds but in all honesty, you were smiling like an idiot. 

“What’s it about?” You asked.

Mickey put the camera down for a second and eyed Randy. Luckily, he knew exactly what to say, or rather, what not to say.

“We’re making a documentary. We’re following around a few students, and you’re one of them. Will you watch it when it comes out?”

“Of course,” You grinned. “Just... don’t follow me everywhere with that thing.”

And follow you, they did. 

The very next morning you opened your door to Mickey holding up the blocky piece of tech. He was grinning behind the lens, which forced you to do the same. But you made it a point to shove the camera away. 

This went on for weeks. Mickey would ambush you with his camera everywhere. Meaning that you two were spending more time together. It didn’t matter if you were in the cafeteria or spending the night with your friends. He always managed to film little tidbits of you. 

At first, you would push the camera away or hide your face behind a nearby pillow. 

Then you and Mickey started to hang alone together more often. You found yourself seeking out time with him. Mickey walked you to classes (still filming you with the camera but you didn’t push it away anymore; you just ignored it), he visited you at work and stopped by your dorm frequently. 

Eventually, he had the courage to trap you into a date. 

“Why are you covering my face, Mickey? I know where the cafeteria is...” You groaned, aimlessly walking forward.

“That’s not where we’re eating today.”

“You had no reason to make that sound threatening, Micks... You suck at surprises.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can open your eyes now.”

You opened your eyes to a sprawled out assortment of food on a picnic blanket. 

It was a typical picnic blanket sat under one of the largest trees on campus. It was wide and comfortable. Mickey thought to bring plenty of drinks too. The look on your face filled him with glee as you studied the setting in front of you.

Just last week both of you were talking about your favorite underrated scenes in a romance movie. His answer was the kissing scene in Titanic, but you argued that wasn’t underrated. Your answer was the picnic scene in Armageddon.

Mickey managed to make it come true. If it were sunset, it would have hit the nail on the head.

“Oh my...”

“Do you like it?” Mickey jumped into your line of vision, he looked hopeful. “You said you’ve never been to a picnic before when you mentioned Armageddon and... well that’s just a part of the American dream so I figured- ‘Hey, they shouldn’t miss out on something so fun and peaceful’ so... I made it happen.”

Mickey’s rambling had you smiling wide. Underneath that smooth exterior, he was a nervous wreck around you. 

“Thanks, Micks...”

The food was delicious. You guys talked amongst the meal and the conversation never stopped. Hours passed but you guys continued to laugh and talk. You were having the time of your life. Mickey brought your favorite fruits and snacks, but best of all, animal crackers. You held up the bag excitedly.

“Like from the movie!” You cheered. 

Mickey leaned forward to grab a cracker but you leaned back, smiling mischievously. You loved teasing him.

He furrowed his eyebrows and went to grab again but you leaned back even further. Mickey paused, chuckling, and you thought you won. You reached your hand in to grab a cracker yourself and instead, you felt his body collide into yours. 

You yelped in surprise and fell on your back. The Animal Crackers flew across the blanket and Mickey groaned in defeat. 

“Now look at what you did...” You laughed.

You guys were side-by-side laying on your backs, staring at each other. The blanket was soft. If you weren’t so giddy, you could have fallen asleep right there. Mickey’s body heat enhanced your comfort, the need to lean into him was excessive. 

You giggled at the man, biting the nail on your index finger. Mickey stared back at you, he looked pleased.

“What?”

He shrugged and continued to stare. You faced your head forward to look up at the branches of a tree above you. 

The shade kept you both cool from the sun. Rays of sunshine illuminated your skin, the eccentric shadow of leaves were printed on your face. A breeze flew by, causing your baby hairs to wave in the wind. Mickey couldn’t pull his eyes away.

“Baby-” You said, snapping him out of his trance- “Do you think it’s possible that anyone else in the world is doing this very same thing at this very same moment?”

You slowly turned your eyes back to Mickey, hoping he’d catch on. His toothy grin spread across his cheeks. He thought back to the movie line, hoping to get it right.

“I hope so...” He mumbled but you heard it perfectly. “Otherwise... What the hell are we trying to save?”

His face was an inch away from yours. You could feel his breath hitting your face. It was sweet. It smelled of the strawberries you shared moments before. 

A few strands of his hair hung in front of his eyes, separate from the rest of his slicked-back locks. His large brown eyes were looking at you sincerely. They were inviting you in. Mickey’s lips twitched upward as if he were tempted to make a move. 

But he didn’t.

You wanted to reach toward his face and pull him closer. You wanted to feel his lips meld into yours, allow the moment to overtake you. You wanted to feel his unshaven face press against yours and tickle your cheeks. You wanted to feel his hand wrap around your own. You wanted to feel him, to touch him.

But you didn’t.

Two weeks later Randy and Mickey announced their documentary was done. The finished product was ready to be viewed. You were invited to come to see it.

During those two weeks, you spent time wondering how you could finally make a move. You were sick of this. You wanted this to end and to have a new beginning. You were sure that Mickey had feelings for you. It had to be true. You needed a leap of faith. 

On the other hand, Mickey spent the same amount of time wondering where he was going wrong. Why couldn’t he pluck up the courage to kiss you? Making the first move always worked well for him. Why couldn’t he do it now? More than anything, he hoped that perhaps this documentary will give you an idea of his feelings. It had to. 

So here you were, nervously fiddling with a blocky device in your jacket pocket, avoiding the eyes of Mickey, who sat on a stool in front of Sidney’s TV. She opted that they show their documentary in her and Halley’s room of their sorority house. Surprisingly, they were the only ones with a good enough TV.

Mickey couldn’t pull his eyes off of you. It became a nervous habit. He wanted to know what you were thinking almost 24/7, he was beyond pissed that he wasn’t a telepath.

“Alright alright alright...” Randy strolled up to the screen. “Is everyone here? Does everyone have their snacks and their drinks? You all need to enjoy this to the fullest extent so snacks are a must.”

Everyone glanced at one another, drink and popcorn in hand. You glanced back to see Sidney all over her boyfriend Derek on the couch. You gave a half-grin, wishing that could be you and Mickey. Halley sat on the opposite end of the couch, happily munching on popcorn. 

“Well... without further ado-” Mickey began.

“Wait isn’t this a documentary? This better not be boring as hell...” Halley lifted her hand and we all nodded in agreement.

“Trust me, guys, this is good stuff. Probably our best yet,” Randy reassured us. “I’m going to play it now...”

We fell silent as Randy placed a tape inside of the VHS. He then turned out the lights as the intro began. Randy’s voice came through the TV.

“Love...” Tidbits of students on campus flashed across the screen. “What is love? ...And no, I don’t mean The Haddaway song.”

A few chuckles sounded around the room. Mickey held his glance on you still. 

“Falling in love is one of the most complex things a human can do... The psychology is even more complex. Certain chemicals are released that explain those butterflies in your stomach or why you get sweaty palms around your crush. Well, many scientists believe that humans are wired to fall in love...” Randy’s voice faded along with the screen. 

The sound of talking college students came through and the camera was poised onto Derek in the cafeteria. 

“What do you love about Sid, Derek?” Mickey said through the TV. 

The camera was far too close to Derek’s face, who looked insanely annoyed. 

“Bug off-”

“Just answer the question.”

Derek thought for a moment, then smiled, “Her smile and eyes. I can’t choose one. They just... go hand in hand. They’re gentle, kind, sweet... Like her.”

A chorus of ooh’s and aw’s rang throughout the room and we threw popcorn kernels at Derek. Both he and Sidney were blushing profusely.

The next clip was of Halley walking on the sidewalk. You could hear Mickey again. 

“Ms. Halley, please explain to us what you are doing right now.”

“I am going on a date, which I do not need you two dorks coming with me-” Halley shoved the camera away and the camera didn’t see her again. 

There were a few more scenes like this, the guys asking random couples on campus what they love about one another. 

You were never asked anything while you were filmed, so you were confused, to say that the least. What was your role during this? 

At times, you would lock eyes with Mickey. He looked frazzled but stared at you all the same. 

Randy posed another question to each of the couples, “How long does it take for someone to fall in love?” The screen was black as you heard the answers,

“Weeks-”

“Months, maybe six?”

“Years,” Someone said. 

And you appeared on the TV. 

It was when Mickey first filmed you. There was more than one clip of you, too, each a few seconds long. The first five contained you shying away from the camera but after that, you could see yourself growing more comfortable around him. You were never looking at the lens but always at the cameraman. 

The screen went black once more and another question was asked, “What’s your ideal love story?”

“Something like a Nicholas Sparks book. Tragic... yet romantic.”

“If we hated each other at first, but then we learned to love. The buildup is fantastic.”

“Childhood friends turned to lovers. Something about that constant pining has me reeling...”

You snapped your eyes towards Mickey. You couldn’t read the expression on his face. You looked back at the screen to see yourself once more.

“Micks... come on and watch this movie-” You were sat on a couch with a bowl of popcorn. You shoved a handful into your mouth when suddenly you noticed the camera sitting in front of you, “You left your camera in here! ...Hey- are you filming me?” You lifted the device to your face and stuck out your tongue. 

You could hear Mickey chuckle in the background. 

Another clip played of Mickey and you sitting on the floor. It was a different day, you guys were laughing hysterically over something. You’ve never seen Mickey so happy.

More and more clips of questions and answers paired with you played. It was matched together perfectly. Realization dawned on you. Was this a confession from Mickey? 

Mickey’s sweet voice played once more. But this wasn’t for any of the couples. He was sat on the couch, asking you.

“Think about a cheesy but underrated romance, okay? What is your favorite romantic scene from that movie?” 

You were only a few inches away from him, head rested on your hand on the backboard of his bed. 

“I’ll go first, I think the kiss during Titanic is spectacular.”

“It’s good but it’s not underrated Micks.”

“Alright, then what’s your choice?”

“...Armageddon. The picnic scene. I’ve never been on a picnic so something like that just seems so... tranquil.”

“You’ve never been to a picnic?”

“Yep... is that weird?”

“Completely and utterly, (Y/n).”

You laughed loudly in the documentary. The next scene was of Mickey setting the camera up someplace. He looked nervous. When he stepped away from the camera, it was a perfect angle to film the picnic he set up for you. 

You knew the rest. The next couple of minutes showed your guys’ picnic together. Including the movie quote. 

The end of the film was nearing, and Mickey’s anxiety was through the roof. It was far from romantic but once his project stopped playing he was going to confess to you. He was going to confess in front of all of his friends, for you. Just a few minutes left and he was going to do it. 

And then you left. 

Mickey finished the quote from the movie and you left instantly. Mickey’s jaw dropped as he stared at his friends. They looked equally confused. 

“Go after them, dude!” Randy yelled. 

It took a while but eventually, Mickey found you. You were on the porch of the sorority house, leaning against the railing and staring at the sunset. There was a cool breeze and parts of your hair waved in the wind. You had your arms wrapped around your body, pulling your jacket close. Mickey could see the orange glow illuminating your face when he joined your side. 

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t look at him. His heart dropped. He messed up.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to-” 

You shushed him. He fell silent.

“Come here... close your eyes... Step up... No peeking”

“I’m not...”

You pulled on his arm and forced him to stand behind you. You guided him to stand on the lower bar of the railing with you, his body nearly wrapped around yours. He stumbled a bit but he followed your movement blindly. The lack of distance between you two had him trembling. 

“Just a sec...” You whispered and pulled a walkman out of your pocket. “I wanted to get this right...” You said and pressed play.

The instrumental of My Heart Will Go On began to play and Mickey barked out a laugh. 

“What in the world-”

“Put your hands on my waist, Micks,”  You grabbed his hands. “You can open your eyes now.”

Just like the movie, Mickey thought. 

“I realize we can just see more of the campus... not the ocean,” Your words were gentle. They came out like honey. “But I wanted you to see... how you make me feel like I can fly.”

Mickey stared at your adoringly. Your scent filled his nostrils and he wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever. His hands ventured from your waist to lift them, like in the movie. Mickey leaned forward and whispered, “Come Josephine my flying machine going up she goes...” His hot breath tickled your ear and you could feel as he intertwined his hand with yours. “Going up...”

You turned to stare at him just as the music of your cassette player swelled. You hesitantly reached his face, and Mickey leaned in instinctively. Your hand comfortably rested on the back of his neck as his lips gently pressed against yours. 

They were hesitant, hot, gentle, almost hungry. His skin was a burning touch. Your hand melded against his skin, touching the curve of his jaw. Mickey’s fingers danced around your body, wanting to explore every crevice for the first time. Mickey had been unknowingly craving the touch of your skin and lips for so long, it felt like euphoria took control of his body.

He poured himself into you. You were willing to drown in his touch.

#mickey altieri #mickey altieri x reader #scream #slashers #ghostface #ghostface x reader #mickey altieri oneshot #scream 2 #randy meeks

[pastelwitchling]

Somebody to You (Chapter 2/4)

               Isobel was not even a little bit what Alex expected her to be. She flipped her hair as he’d imagined she would, and she had the same sneaky smirk that Michael did that made Alex’s heart ache, but as they strolled the museum halls, passing painting after sculpture after painting after ancient pieces of New Mexican history, her remarks were never teasing but genuine.

               She seemed fascinated less with the actual artwork and more with what Alex thought of it himself. As if she hoped to unravel the mystery of him by knowing his opinion on the mundane.

               “What about this one?” she pointed at a piece. “And that one? What about this?”

               “Isobel,” Max panicked, “don’t touch that!”

               Alex hid a smile. Max and Isobel had the relationship he’d always secretly wished he had with his brothers, despite their differences. Despite their father trying to get in between them and pin them against each other.

               He should’ve been sad, should’ve felt left out as he usually did when Michael started flirting with a girl when they were hanging out; like everything was a reminder of how much he didn’t fit, but . . . Max kept looking for his reactions, and Isobel kept her arm hooked around his and glaring at anyone that gave the only gay kid a sideways glance, and both of them felt the need to fill Alex in on any inside joke they had.

               By the end of the museum visit, Alex realized the entire trip had been listening to more of the Evans’ stories than knowing anything about the pieces they’d seen. It was nice, like being with Liz and Kyle, except one of them kept watching him, raising an inconspicuous brow whenever Alex pulled his phone out and the other kept giving him covert glances and smirking, like she knew something Alex didn’t.

               Alex almost wanted to tell Isobel that he knew about Max’s feelings for him, as surprising and out of character as they were, but couldn’t bring himself to confess to them. They’d feel real, like he was humoring Max instead of the truth, which was pining and loving his brother and forever miserable at the strange distance Michael seemed to be taking with him now.

               Too lost in his thoughts about Michael, Alex didn’t even realize that Max was holding a smoothie in his face until his nose hit the cold cup.

               Alex blinked, startled, and Max smiled softly. “Sorry. Pineapple’s your favorite, right?”

               “Yeah,” Alex said slowly, taking the cup. Isobel was holding something aggressively pink and Max’s own was a deep blue. “How’d you know?”

               An unreadable expression crossed Max’s face for a split second, but it was gone so quickly that Alex was sure he must’ve imagined it.

               “I asked Michael,” he said, gaging Alex’s reaction as he took a sip.

               Alex had no idea how much it felt like he was suffocating until he had something cold and delicious trickle into his chest, like a window was open to his heart and he was able to breathe.

               His eyes fluttered and he sighed, content. Max’s smile widened.

               Alex pulled off the straw and looked down. He was used to being watched, but people’s interests usually quickly faded. Max, on the other hand, seemed to stare more and more.

               He cleared his throat, swirling the yellow smoothie. He glanced at Isobel, to make sure was busy harassing the enamored girl behind the desk about her right to have more granola. “Can I ask you something?”

               “Me?” Max blinked. “Yeah!”

               “Why now?” Alex asked. “I mean, we’ve been around each other since middle school.”

               Max seemed to think about this a moment, then, “I guess I just never looked at you that way. I mean, you’re – you’re my brother’s best friend.”

               “But that hasn’t changed.”

               “No,” he agreed. “But . . . Michael told me you play the piano.”

               “So?”

               “So,” Max swallowed, “I didn’t know that. I never even imagined it. You have this whole emo thing going, but . . . it feels . . . like . . . there’s more to you, I guess?” He shut his eyes. “Which I know is so stupid to say because I don’t know you that well, but I – I want to. I want to . . . know the guy that looks like he could rule the Underworld and still plays beautiful music on his piano and who laughs around his friends and who’s always there for the people that need him. You’re just good, Alex.” He turned red and wouldn’t meet Alex’s eyes when he continued, “You’re – you’re cute and you’re good, and . . . I don’t know, that feels like the best kind of story.”

               Alex stared until beads of ice water fell down the side of the cup and over his fingers. He blinked, and looked down. He should’ve been angry that some stranger would claim to know anything about him, but only Michael had ever been able to tell when Alex was angry about his father, and rebelling in everything from his clothes to his makeup to his words. When he found comfort in the dark aesthetic, but everyone else was uneased by it. Alex was scary and unapproachable. Only Michael had ever known of how weighed down he could be by others’ aversion to him, how much mattered to him. And now, it seemed, so did Max.

               Alex swallowed thickly, running through the million things he would say. How’d you know? Don’t read my mind like that. How did you so easily say what Michael never seems to want to? In the end, however, he settled for, “Oh.”

               *

               Watching Alex and Isobel together was . . . not unpleasant. Far from it, actually, Max found himself laughing when Isobel eagerly tugged Alex along every few blocks to gossip about who-knows-what, and Alex scrunched his nose every so often in a way that made Max’s heart flutter. It was either giggle a little breathlessly at his reactions or press his hand over his chest and question what his racing heart meant.

               “What’s so funny?” Alex asked at one point.

               Max blushed at the idea of confessing, but he figured it would help his case, so he murmured, “You’re kind of adorable,” and took a long gulp of his drink, refusing to look at Alex for his reaction.

               They walked along the neighborhood for a long time. Isobel treated them each to a beer, and if Alex was annoyed by her at all, he definitely didn’t show it. In fact, he looked amused every time she spoke, and it made something in Max’s protective heart melt.

               Stop it, he scolded. This is fake, this is all fake. Remember your mission.

               When the time came for them to part ways, Max insisted on walking Alex to his house.

               “Ooh, Max,” Isobel hooked her arm around Alex’s. “Such a gentleman! Ready to go, Alex?”

               But Alex, Max now realized, had faltered.

               “Erm,” he gently removed his arm from Isobel’s. He looked, for the first time that Max had ever seen him, nervous. “Th-That’s okay. I like walking by myself.”

               Max shook his head. “Alex, it’s really late, I can just –”

               “It’s fine, okay?” Alex said with some edge, walking backwards. “Seriously, I don’t need help.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Thanks though. I had a lot of fun. Really. Goodnight.”

               “Goodnight,” Isobel murmured back, her brows pinched, and when she looked to Max, he saw the same confused concern on her face that he felt. He’d thought everything was going fine. He’d thought offering to take Alex home would be a good thing. Had he said something wrong?

               When he and Isobel made it back into the house, they stopped in the corridor that separated their rooms. Isobel leaned her shoulder against her door a moment, and with a gentle smile, she said, “I like him.”

               Max pursed his lips. The same words were on his tongue, but they felt wrong to say. Isobel didn’t know that all of it was an act, that he had only gone out with Alex to help get rid of his feelings for Michael. The softness of her blue eyes forbid Max from confessing to that truth.

               So all he did was hum, mutter a goodnight, and open his door. When he stepped in, he found Michael on the edge of his bed, leaning his elbows on his knees, his hands interlocked tightly.

               Finding Michael in his room at ungodly hours was no surprise, but Max rarely saw him so distressed, his jaw clenched, his eyes focused ahead as if he barely noticed his brother, his thumb carving into the back of his other hand, his foot tapping restlessly on the hardwood floors.

               “Hey,” Max said warily, closing his door.

               “How was the museum?” Michael said in lieu of a greeting.

               Max understood, closing the door. “Good. Great, actually, you don’t have to worry.” He sat down next to Michael with a sigh. “Isobel came with, he had a lot of fun.”

               Michael dropped his head into his hands, his fingers tugging at his curls. “Great,” he said hoarsely.

               Max stared a long moment, and his shoulders slumped. “Michael, you got to stop this. Just talk to Alex –”

               “Stop it, Max,” he ground out.

               Max shook his head. “What happened? I thought Saturdays were for you and Alex, why’d he call me?”

               “I . . .” he growled and stood, kicking a dresser. Max said nothing as his brother paced the length of his room.

               “It’s okay,” he finally said. “He couldn’t hate you, no matter what you –”

               “You didn’t see his face,” he said. “I said – I can’t believe I . . . but it had to be done. I had to . . . he wouldn’t have called you otherwise.”

               Max swallowed. He didn’t know why, but the idea that Alex wouldn’t have called him if Michael hadn’t pushed him to do it upset him more than it should.

               “R-Right,” he said and cleared his throat. “Look, would you just sit down please?”

               Michael sat down with a  huff, his foot still tapping. Max gripped his knee firmly. “Hey,” he said. “I can tell you what he did.”

               Michael nodded, eyes wide and afraid. “O-Okay. Yeah, okay.”

               So Max told him everything, from the moment Alex had come over, to Isobel inviting herself along, to the museum trip, to the smoothies they had, to the beers. When he told Michael about offering to walk Alex home and Alex’s reaction, Michael didn’t look the least bit surprised. If anything, he looked angry all over again.

               “Asshole,” he grumbled, rubbing his face with one hand.

               “Hey,” Max said heatedly, “I tried to –”

               “Not you,” Michael rolled his eyes. “Alex’s dad. Jesse Manes.” He sighed. “If he gets even a feeling that Alex might be dating a guy, he . . .” he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

               “It does,” Max said, remembering the fear in Alex’s eyes when he had offered to walk him back. “Michael, he was freaked out –”

               “I know,” Michael cut him off firmly. “Just . . . let it go, Max. There’s nothing you can do. Just don’t let his dad see you together. No matter what. Alex will be the one paying for it.”

               Max swallowed, thinking. He had rarely seen Jesse Manes around town, knowing only that everyone admired him for his military service. Max had never had an opinion other than the fact that Jesse had seemed too cold to approach, but he was nothing like Alex.

               With Alex he saw a warm light. With Jesse, there was none.

               Nonetheless, he just nodded until Michael stopped looking worried about it, and brought in another pillow and blanket for his brother to sleep in his room.

               When he laid there in bed, he pulled his phone out, scrolling mindlessly for fifteen minutes before he convinced himself that pulling Alex’s number was a good idea. He didn’t think he wanted to or should call, but . . .

               Get home okay? he texted, and regretted it the second it sent.

               “Shit,” he whispered, his eyes falling shut. Michael was asleep against the wall, snoring away. Max tapped the edge of the phone when he got no response, then shut it off, leaving it on his nightstand and not at all expecting a response. Then –

               Ting!

               Max swallowed and grabbed his phone.

               Safe and sound, Alex’s message read.

               He bit his lower lip, hesitated, then typed out, Good. Sweet dreams.

               Now that was the one he regretted. Sweet dreams? He groaned, turning his face into the pillow and tossing the phone aside.

               He stared at it from where it sat on the carpet, not expecting an answer, or maybe for Alex to make fun of him or tease him for it. Then the screen lit up and he almost fell off the bed.

               You, too, Max.

               It was stupid. It was so, unbelievably stupid, but a smile tugged at Max’s lips and a chuckle escaped before he even realized it had formed. He could almost hear Alex’s voice, soft and amused, saying his name. What if he thought Max was cute? Or kind? Or unique? What if he was just humoring Max’s ridiculousness? It didn’t matter. He hadn’t laughed at him, he hadn’t ignored him. It made Max smile.

               “You really are good,” he murmured into the night. Michael slept on.

               *

               As soon as he woke up, Michael half-groggily reached for his phone, expecting to find texts and pictures that Alex had taken on their Saturday together. Just before he opened his screen to a single text and picture from Isobel, he remembered that he and Alex hadn’t actually spent any time yesterday with each other.

               Michael deflated entirely, his phone in front of his face as he thoughtlessly clicked on the message. He sat up at once. It was a picture of Isobel taking a selfie with a begrudging Alex on her arm, laughing in that cute way he did when his nose was scrunched and his eyes narrowed.

               He swallowed. This was supposed to be him and Alex yesterday. But what really caught his eyes was Max in the corner. He wasn’t looking at the camera, but at Alex, and the look in his eyes . . . the way he smiled . . .

               Michael had never seen that before. He looked at Max, still sleeping soundly, and thought about this plan to bring his best friend and brother together.

               His thumb tapped the edge of his phone. He wasn’t bringing them together. He was just diverting Alex’s affections for a second. And then Max would go after Liz, the person he actually wanted, and all of this would be over.

               Max doesn’t have a crush on Alex, he told his half-asleep mind, trying to calm himself down as he stepped out of bed. He doesn’t.

               Then for no reason at all, Michael typed out a text to Alex, asking him to meet in the park nearby. Max murmured something in his sleep, and Michael snapped out of his thoughts. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. What was he doing? He was so close now. He couldn’t stop this.

               So he fixed his text. He asked Alex to meet both him and Max. Alex took an entire half hour to answer, and Michael knew he was an early riser, so he tried not to feel panicked that his best friend might be too angry to respond, and when the text came that Alex would need twenty minutes to get there, some relief settled in Michael’s chest and he went to wake Max.

               “Huh?” Max sat up, alert, his eyes still closed. “What – what’s happening?”

               “Get up,” Michael said with a heaviness and unwillingness he forced himself to push aside. “We’re going to see Alex.”

               *

               Alex swung back and forth on the swing, his phone clutched tightly in his hand, waiting for any other word from Michael. He was convincing himself that he was excited to see him, but the memory of his words yesterday had gone from the back of his mind to the forefront, and he couldn’t help but still feel hurt that he’d been dismissed so easily.

               “I’m just trying to have a little fun here. Am I supposed to turn down a hot girl for you?”

               Alex’s fingers gripped the swing’s chains tightly, his eyes burning. Like Alex was some nuisance, a second thought. He’d never imagined those words leaving Michael’s lips. He’d never imagined Michael, of all people, making him feel so . . . unwanted.

               Then, before he could help it, his thoughts wandered to Max. Max, who had hurried him away from the large mansion only because he was terrified his sister would scare him away. Who had been eager to get Alex’s opinion on every painting, sculpture, and relic, and actually listened when he spoke. He’d never been able to speak to strangers so easily, but sometimes it was hard to remember that that was what Max was supposed to be. It was just so easy to talk to him . . . and so easy to forget the bad things around him . . .

               Alex shook himself of those thoughts. What was wrong with him? Max was just a cuddly teddy bear, someone who had helped out once when Michael was too busy. No matter what he said or confessed to, he’d get bored and tired of the chase soon enough. He’d get bored and tired of Alex, just like everyone else did.

               When he looked up, he saw Michael first, and started to stand. Then he saw Max, and his shoulders fell.

               “Are you fucking kidding me?” he murmured, and heaved a sigh as he sat back down. He wasn’t going to just run back into Michael’s arms when his schedule allowed him to remember they were supposed to be best friends. Ruining the only day they might’ve had alone was the final straw.

               “Hey,” Michael smiled wide, and Alex’s heart started to flutter. It made him want to cry. It was so unfair, especially when he knew that Michael used that smile on every pretty girl he saw. Until yesterday, Alex had believed he was different.

               Alex ignored Michael’s greeting and glanced at Max instead, who was sleepily rubbing his eyes. Alex faltered. Had Max gotten out of bed just to see him? The thought made him soften. It wasn’t fair, after all, to blame Max for Michael’s behavior.

               “Hi, Max,” he said, and Max blinked, clearly surprised at being spoken to.

               He put his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat. “Uh – hey, Alex.” Another glance at Michael. “Y-You look nice.”

               Maybe Max was waiting for Michael to approve of this compliment, to tell him how smooth he was being with his crush, but Michael’s eyes were focused on Alex, his expression solemn.

               Max seemed to sense the tension because he exhaled slowly and pointed at the swing next to Alex’s. “That swing taken?”

               Alex couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips, no matter how brief, and he shook his head. Max took the swing and swung back and forth as if nobody else was there.

               “Come on, Alex,” Michael murmured, kneeling in front of him. “If this is about yesterday –”

               “If it’s about yesterday?” Alex scoffed humorlessly. “Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?”

               Michael looked hurt. “That – that’s not fair.”

               “No?” Alex shook his head. “Saturdays are supposed to be ours, Guerin, and you treated me like some brat you had to put up with!”

               “I didn’t –” Michael’s mouth opened and closed on several sentences, seemingly appalled at the idea. “Alex, I just –”

               In a voice too quiet for Max to hear, Alex said, “You invited Maria. Was that just to hurt me?”

               His eyes widened. “No!”

               “Did I –” Alex faltered. “Did I do something to piss you off, or –”

               “Alex!” Michael couldn’t seem to believe that Alex would go down that road.

               Alex clenched his jaw. “Well, what was I supposed to think? I can’t believe you would even talk to her again after what she did to me! I –” he broke off with a shaky sigh, looking away from Michael and Max to keep them from seeing the tears fill his eyes. “I thought you were my friend.”

               “Don’t say that,” Michael said hoarsely, taking Alex’s hand in his. Alex hated the shivers it sent down his body. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I – I just knew that it hurt losing a friend like that, and I thought that it would make you feel better if – if I could fix it –”

               “The only person in the world I care about losing is you,” Alex argued, and Michael said nothing for a moment. Alex realized his mistake at once, and he looked down, his face heated. “I thought I was losing you yesterday. I thought you’d . . . forgiven her for what she’d done. Like my feelings didn’t matter as much as a pretty girl.”

               A moment of silence. Even the creaking of Max’s swing had stopped. Then Michael tugged on his hand.

               “No one . . .” Michael started and abruptly cut himself off. Alex looked back at him to see his expression was conflicted. Before Alex could ask what was wrong, what had been wrong with him lately, Michael forced a smile to his lips. It was a play at his usual light one without any of the lightness.

               “You know the fair’s going on until next week,” he said. “Why don’t – uh – why don’t we go together? Tomorrow? Just you and me?”

               Alex should’ve been thrilled at the idea, but something . . . something was off. Michael looked like he was more miserable at asking for it, and Max was looking at them strangely solemn.

               Realization dawned. Michael was hesitant to go out with Alex alone when he knew his brother had feelings for him. Alex glanced at Max again. He would’ve preferred to be on his own with Michael, but the idea of going with Max didn’t seem so bad either.

               He internally sighed. “Max,” he turned to him, “why don’t you come with us?”

               Max raised a brow. Michael stopped pretending to smile and his brows furrowed. Alex didn’t understand. Wasn’t this what he’d wanted?

               Then Max smiled, and Alex’s attention was caught. “Yeah? You really want me to come?”

               Warmth bloomed in Alex’s chest, and something like a breath of relief escaped his lips, his first real breath since he’d gotten Michael’s text to meet. Maybe Max would get tired of the chase, but . . . better to get the inevitable over with sooner than later, right?

               “I mean, if you want to,” Alex played at a shrug. Max chuckled and looked down.

               He nodded. “Yeah, yes, I do.”

               Alex realized he and Max were just staring at each other. He blushed and looked back at Michael, expecting to see him overjoyed. But his smile was tighter than ever.

               “Great,” Michael said. “That’s just . . . perfect. Exactly what I was hoping for.”

               *

               “Okay,” Max plopped down on the bed, feeling filled up on lunch and something else he’d been feeling since Alex had invited him along with them to the fair tomorrow. “What’s wrong?”

               “Nothing,” Michael sniffed roughly, replacing his jacket with another one of his own that he’d left in Max’s closet. “It’s all going according to plan, right?”

               “Yeah,” Max nodded, “so why do you look like you’re two seconds away from clocking me?”

               “What?” Michael looked over his shoulder with pursed lips, without actually looking at Max. “I’m not. It’s great, right? He invited you all by himself.”

               Max smiled to himself at the thought. “Yeah,” he said, his voice soft to his own ears.

               Michael finally met Max’s eyes for a long while, studying his expression. Then he turned, smiling with narrowed eyes. “Are you . . . you’re not . . .?”

               Max raised a brow, waiting for his brother to elaborate.

               “You’re not . . . starting to actually like Alex, are you?”

               Max’s eyes widened and he scoffed. He started to say that he absolutely wasn’t when he caught himself. He thought of Alex’s kind eyes and his laugh and the hurt in his voice when Michael ignored him. He thought Alex had had enough people dismissing him behind his back.

               “Of course I like him,” he said. “He’s nice, you know? There’s nothing wrong with him.”

               “Yeah,” Michael said with a nod, as if reassuring himself. “Yeah, I mean . . . you like him like you like Kyle, right?”

               Max hesitated. “Michael . . . do you like Alex?”

               “I love Alex,” he said at once. “Just not like that.”

               No, Max silently agreed. Not like that. Michael’s feelings seemed more . . . possessive, though he didn’t want to talk about things he wasn’t sure of. All he knew was that Michael wanted Alex to himself. He didn’t know how to tell him that that wouldn’t work with the plan.

               “I’m sure he just brought me along because he felt bad for me,” Max placated, though the idea made him want to curl up on his bed. “You know, you did bring me along for no reason.”

               “No,” Michael said with that same forced lightness, turning back to his clothes. “No, this is good. Like I said, it’s great! Alex is starting to want you along. The plan is working perfectly.”

               “Yeah,” Max muttered, noticing the way Michael roughly tugged his sleeves down. “Perfectly.”

               *

               “This is a bad idea,” Kyle said as soon as Alex had called to tell him his plans for tonight. “I think you’re forgiving him way too easily.”

               Alex’s phone sat on speaker on his nightstand. He sighed, fixing his hair so that it looked less like he’d walked through a hurricane, but the strands remained windswept and messy and he gave up.

               “He made a mistake,” Alex said for what felt like the millionth time. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

               “Not that kind of mistake!” Kyle argued, his frustration evident. “Alex, he invited Maria!” Alex flinched at the name and was glad his friend couldn’t see him. “That’s like if I invited Jared!”

               “Jared Wilson is a homophobic ass,” Alex argued at once, and calmed the edge in his voice. “It’s not the same thing.”

               “Both of them made life a lot harder for you when they realized you were gay.”

               To that, Alex had no response. He didn’t care. He loved Michael, and being angry with him felt wrong. He didn’t want it.

               He sat on his bed’s edge and played with the buttons on his black cardigan. It was new, something he wanted to wait to wear until he and Michael were alone, because Michael always liked hugging Alex as they walked and clinging to his side, and Alex had wanted Michael to feel soft and warm when he hugged him. It should bother him that he did so much of what he did with the worry of how Michael will take it, even though they’re not dating and could probably never date, but every so often, that traitorous bit of hope would claw its way to the surface and tell him that it could still happen.

               Maybe all it took was Michael knowing how he felt. It didn’t matter. Alex could never do it.

               “I don’t want to lose him,” he said quietly. Kyle didn’t answer. Alex half-wished that he hadn’t heard him, but he doubted it.

               Finally, Kyle sighed and said, “I know.” A pause, then, “What about Max?”

               Alex blinked. “Max?”

               “Yeah,” he said. “Seems like he really likes you.”

               Alex wanted to scoff, but what left his lips instead was, “Yeah?” Kyle chuckled and Alex blushed. “N-Not that I care! I just don’t want to get his hopes up for nothing.”

               He hummed. Alex hated how he could hear the amusement in his voice. “Okay, well,” he said, “don’t count him out just yet.”

               Alex was about to retort when a door suddenly slammed outside his bedroom. He heard the heavy footsteps of hunting boots and swallowed thickly. He tried to keep his light voice as he turned off his speaker and held the phone up, “Hey, I-I’ll see you at school, okay?”

               “Uh –” Kyle was clearly thrown off by the sudden change in conversation. “Sure, but are you –”

               Before he could finish his question, Alex hung up and put his phone aside. Then he caught himself in the mirror. His eyeliner. He was already wearing it.

               “Fuck,” he breathed.

               His heart hammered in his throat as the footsteps stopped outside his room and the door swung open. His father stood there.

               “Did I hear you talking to a boy?” he demanded.

               “N-No,” Alex said at once, cursing his stammering. “I mean, yes, but it was just Kyle.”

               Jesse hummed. Alex’s heart sunk into his stomach when Jesse closed the door behind him and stayed inside.

               “Dad,” he started, “really, I was just –”

               “Come here,” Jesse said with a wave of his fingers. When Alex didn’t move, Jesse fixed his son with his cold blue eyes. “Alex, come here.”

               Alex swallowed and resisted the urge to cower away. If his father hated disobedience, he hated a coward more. So Alex marched up to him swiftly as he was trained to do, his shoulders straight despite his lowered eyes, and the second he was close enough, Jesse grabbed his face in one hand, his grip painful.

               “What is that,” he said coldly, “on your eyes?”

               Alex clenched his jaw, trying not to whimper even as his dad’s hand nearly broke his jaw. Even as he knew what was coming. Not for the first time, as his fingers trembled on his dad’s wrist, he wished Michael could be here to protect him.

               *

               Max was in Alex’s class, and it was rare that a Manes was late, but Alex didn’t show up until halfway through the first lecture. He had a black sweater on with a collar that hid most of his chin and long sleeves that fell past his fingers, despite the fairly warm weather. His arms were stiff at his side, and his eyeliner was smudged a little bit.

               The math teacher said nothing to his most brilliant student about being late, and just gestured at him to take a seat. Max lifted his head off his desk and tried to catch Alex’s eyes, but Alex was staring straight ahead.

               Liz turned around in her seat, her brows furrowed. Max didn’t hear her murmurs, but whatever she said, Alex merely nodded once in response, his smile small. Liz didn’t look reassured, and Max realized he was inching out of his seat.

               “Yes, Mr. Evans?” the teacher said.

               “Uh – nothing, sir,” Max said and sat back down. “Sorry.”

               Some of the other students snickered, but Max didn’t care, because at least Liz was looking at him. He swallowed and pointed at Alex, the silent message clear. Liz nudged Alex’s arm softly and gestured with her chin at Max. Alex looked over.

               Max didn’t know what to do but raise his hand in a little wave. Alex just looked away again, his shoulders scrunched as he almost folded in on himself. He looked out the window and didn’t seem to pay attention to another word of the lecture.

               Max tried to catch Alex in the hall in between classes, to ask him if he was all right, but Alex just shrunk away from him.

               “I’m fine,” he muttered.

               “Alex, wait a second,” Max tried, instinctively reaching for his wrist.

               He’d barely touched him when Alex flinched away. “Don’t do that!” he snapped, making the entire hallway of students stop and turn to stare. Alex looked furious and terrified all at once. “Don’t ever, ever grab me!”

               Max stood frozen with his hand outstretched, stunned, and the hall filled with a heavy, tense silence. Alex didn’t seem to care. He kept glaring at Max a moment longer, his breathing quick like he was on the verge of crying, and he whipped around to where a startled and concerned Liz was ready to guide him away.

               Murmurs broke out over the crowd, and Max heard more than a few people call Alex a number of things, all ranging from “freak” to “psycho,” before they came to check that Max was okay after that outburst. Max could only be offended.

               Alex was clearly suffering with something, didn’t anyone notice or care?

               When Max got to lunch, Isobel was already standing. She looked as she rarely did; her bright smile gone, replaced with a solemn frown. “Hey,” she tugged Max down as soon as she caught sight of him. “What happened with Alex in the hallway? Rosa said he suddenly started screaming at you?”

               Max shook his head. “Something’s wrong with him,” he said.

               Isobel’s frown deepened. “Hey, don’t say that, you don’t know what could be –”

               “No,” Max cut her off, indignant that she could assume he meant the worst. “I mean, something’s wrong with him, like something must’ve happened. He’s usually a lot nicer. And he showed up late. He never shows up late.”

               Isobel rubbed her jaw as she looked over at Alex’s table where both Liz and Kyle were encouraging him to eat something, the concern evident on their faces.

               “I mean, it’s not exactly new, right?” she muttered. “He’s freaked out like this before.”

               Max pursed his lips. Alex had seemed so excited yesterday when Michael had asked him to the fair. What could’ve happened from then till now? Had Michael done something? No, he would’ve warned Max.

               Then he remembered something Michael had told him about Jesse Manes . . .

               His shoulders fell. “Shit.”

               Isobel seemed to realize he’d figured it out, and eagerly asked, “What? What is it?”

               Max hesitated. “You can’t tell anyone. I mean, not even the Ortechos. No one, Isobel.”

               “My lips are sealed,” she quickly promised.

               Max licked his lips. “Well, remember how nervous he was when I offered to walk him home the other night?”

               “Yeah?”

               “Michael told me about his dad,” he said. “Apparently, he really, really doesn’t want his son to be gay.”

               Isobel’s eyes widened with horror. “Alex is scared of his dad?”

               “He’s wearing long sleeves, and he’s sweating through it,” Max said darkly by way of saying what he didn’t want to outright.

               Isobel gasped. “You think he . . . hits him?”

               Max shook his head, not wanting to believe that Alex had that kind of father, but . . . “I’ve never heard Michael so unnerved by someone outside of his foster parents.”

               “Oh my god,” Isobel whispered, her wide, glassy eyes turning to Alex who was sitting slumped in his chair as if allowing himself a few seconds to stop pretending he was fine. “Oh my god,” she started to stand, to go over to him, but Max grabbed her arm and sat her back down.

               “Don’t,” he warned. “Michael didn’t want to tell me, and I doubt Alex wants anyone to know.”

               “He’s beating him!” Isobel whisper-yelled through grit teeth. “We – we have to tell somebody!”

               “Not if Alex doesn’t want us to,” Max argued.

               “Max!”

               “He has brothers,” Max said, and Isobel fell silent. “The last thing Alex needs right now is for the only family he has to hate him because they think he told on their dad. Not if Alex doesn’t want us to.”

               Isobel clenched her jaw, her eyes miserable, and she nodded. It was clearly the last thing she wanted to do.

               “I don’t know how you can bear it,” she breathed, looking over to Alex like she wanted nothing more than to hug and protect him. “He’s so sweet, I don’t know how you can bear it.”

               Isobel, of course, couldn’t see Max’s clenched, trembling fists beneath the table as he watched Alex start to eat despite himself, start to smile like he was so used to the beatings that he’d learned to work past them after a while, wondering the exact same thing.

                 Technically, Michael’s official house was an airstream at the junkyard where old man Sanders had let him stay while he had a part time job after school. Max wished Alex hadn’t known the whole story because then at least, as they went together to the auto shop, Max would have something to say instead of wallowing in the awkward silence between them.

               In fact, awkward wasn’t really the right word. Heavy seemed more appropriate.

               The weather was cooling quickly, making it more bearable for Alex’s sweater. Max half-wondered what Alex would do if he reached down and looked for his fingers underneath the sleeves.

               “I’m sorry,” Alex mumbled, and Max snapped out of his thoughts. Alex had said nothing on the drive over, nodding quietly in thanks when Max had offered to drive him as they were both going together, but his eyes were on the ground now.

               He looked so shy for once that Max was caught off guard.

               “Huh?”

               “For yelling at you,” he went on, even more quiet. “I didn’t mean to . . . I just don’t like . . .”

               “Being grabbed,” Max finished. He stopped, and Alex did the same. “Alex, I would never hurt you, okay? I wouldn’t.”

               Alex wouldn’t look at Max, but Max could see his breathing getting quicker, his jaw clenching tighter and tighter.

               “What did Michael tell you?”

               Max tried to school his features. “Nothing.”

               He was sure Alex would snap at him, would turn right around and cut off his friendship with both him and Michael. Instead, he scoffed wearily. “You’re just as bad a liar as he is.”

               Raising his chin and pretending that it didn’t cause him pain to fix the bag on his shoulder, Alex forged on ahead. “I don’t need anyone’s pity.”

               Max followed in silence, but only for a minute. “My mom knows someone in the state council, I could talk to her –”

               Alex whipped around, his eyes wide and terrified. “Don’t! You can’t, Max, please, don’t ever –”

               “Okay!” Max took Alex’s hands to calm him. He was rambling, his fingers shaking. “Okay, I – I won’t, Alex, calm down.” When Alex had been reduced to a trembling figure, Max pulled him in gently against him. “I won’t tell, I promise. Just calm down, okay? Please, calm down.”

               Max’s chin was on Alex’s head. He had a hand in Alex’s hair – it was so much softer than he could’ve imagined – his other hand running up and down his back, trying not to scare him again with any sudden movements.

               “It’s just me,” Alex croaked out against Max’s chest. “It’s only me. Because I’m . . .” He shook his head. “He doesn’t hurt them. They – they don’t care about enlisting. They’re happy to do it. I don’t want to ruin their lives, please –”

               “Okay,” Max whispered into Alex’s hair. He smelled like vanilla. “Okay, Alex, it’s okay. I won’t tell, I promise. I promise.”

               They stood there like that for a long time, Max’s fingers raking through Alex’s hair, taking in the way each strand felt against his fingers. He felt the strong muscles of Alex’s back even through his sweater. He couldn’t help it. Everything about Alex was a mystery, and the more he uncovered, the more he wanted to know.

               A breath escaped his lips, and Alex tensed. He stepped back, unwilling to look at Max, his face tinged pink.

               “S-Sorry,” he murmured.

               Max nodded, putting his hands in his back pockets to keep from reaching out for him again. “Me, too. It’s – uh . . . been a long couple of days.”

               Alex sighed, rubbing his face with one hand. Max resisted the urge to ask how bad the pain was underneath the sweater, but if he was being honest, he didn’t think either of them wanted the answer to that question. So he nudged his head towards Michael’s trailer, and waited for Alex to lead the way.

               “What’s your favorite fair treat?” Max asked before they could get to the door. He didn’t know why, but he wanted just a few more seconds before Michael joined them.

               “What?”

               “Fair treat,” he repeated. “You know, they sell a lot of snacks at fairs. They’ll be selling a lot tonight. Which one do you like best?”

               “Uh . . .” Alex thought about it. “Cotton candy? I guess? The, you know, big swirls?”

               “Okay,” Max nodded, grinning. “Then I’ll buy you the biggest swirl they have.”

               Alex’s eyes widened and he turned pinker. It was so cute that Max had to giggle.

               “I have my own money.”

               “So?” Max shrugged. “I want to get you something. I thought about winning you a prize during one of the games, but that feels a little cliché, you know?”

               Alex opened and closed his mouth on several sentences, and Max wondered if Michael had ever offered to buy him anything with the promise that it meant something more.

               Alex looked away with a shake of his head. “You’re silly,” he muttered, and opened the door, climbing inside.

               Max followed, still grinning. They found Michael dressed and looking for the keys to his truck.

               “Hey!” Alex said a little breathlessly. “You ready to go?”

               Michael froze, looking over his shoulder. Max’s smile fell at once. Oh no . . .

               “Crap,” he said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “Crap, we said we were going to the fair tonight!”

               Another act, Max thought. “Michael,” he said quietly, a private warning, “today really isn’t the day to –”

               “I don’t get it,” Alex cut him off, his brows furrowed. “If you – if you forgot about the fair tonight, then why’re you in such a hurry to leave?”

               Michael shrugged, glanced at Max, and said, “I have a date.”

               Alex was silent a moment. “You . . . have a date.”

               “Yeah.”

               “But –” Alex shook his head. “The fair was your idea. Why’d you ask me to come with you if you knew you were going to be busy?”

               “I didn’t know when I asked you,” Michael said, and Alex stared. Despite his hidden fingers, Max did not miss the way they curled to fists.

               “So you –” Alex cut himself off abruptly, smiling incredulously, like he couldn’t believe his other half had stooped so low. “You made plans with someone else when you already had plans with me?”

               “Alex,” he huffed, exasperated. “Are you gonna get like this every time I’m meeting someone? A very attractive friend asked me out tonight, I said yes.”

               “But you’re my friend, too,” Alex argued. “When we make promises to each other, we’re supposed to follow through on them, it shouldn’t matter if you have a ton of friends or not.”

               “Well, it’s not my fault you don’t have any friends, Alex.”

               “Michael!” Max stepped forward, but Alex held a hand up. He didn’t look tense or frozen to the spot. He looked like every horrible thought that had ever crossed his mind about his friendship with Michael, every doubt that had ever haunted him, every fear of being unwanted or not good enough, it was all coming true.

               To Alex, Michael didn’t consider him worth anything.

               To Alex, Michael wasn’t protecting their friendship. He was shattering it beyond repair.

               He looked resigned and exhausted. Michael seemed to realize that too late.

               “W-Wait,” he tried, “I didn’t – I didn’t mean –”

               “You’re my friend,” Alex quietly defended. “You’re . . . you’re my . . .” He shook his head, like it didn’t matter anymore. He turned to Max. “D-Do you – uh – do you still want to come with me? To the – the fair?”

               He was clearly terrified, clearly unwilling to go at all if Michael didn’t want to, but wanting to prove that he was unhurt. That he wouldn’t break. Max was in awe of his courage.

               “I was just going to ask you the same thing,” Max said.

               A brief, barely-there smile tugged at Alex’s lips before it was gone. Without another word or glance at Michael, he left. Michael stared at the open door like he wasn’t even in the room, like he was numb and out of body. He’d gone too far this time.

               Max shook his head. “You were so terrified that he was in love with you . . . that you decided to make him hate you instead.”

               “I told you,” Michael said hoarsely, his eyes filling with tears. “He’ll only hate me for a little bit.”

               “And you’re willing to bet on that?” Max tilted his head. He promised Alex he wouldn’t tell anyone else what his father had done to him, but he leaned in anyway and said, “Because if I were you, I would think a little harder instead about why he’s wearing such a long sweater near the end of spring.”

               And with those final words, Max turned and left, catching only the realization in Michael’s eyes before he shut the door behind him. Alex was already in the car, hugging his arms and staring out the window.

               Max got in and shut the door. He exhaled slowly, “Alex –”

               “Just drive,” Alex said hoarsely, like he’d been crying for hours though his eyes were dry. “Please just drive.”

               Max swallowed and turned on the ignition. He didn’t want to be a hero here. He didn’t feel like one. The only reason Michael had hurt Alex this badly at all was so that he could swoop in. But this seemed like too high a cost.

               It didn’t matter in the end. Max did as Alex wanted, and drove.

                 The fairy lights were already strung up when Max and Alex got to the fair, plenty of booths already up with lanterns lighting the way, showering everything in gold. It looked more like a market with a few chances for the kids to win toys, but Max watched as Alex eyed each booth and necklace and dress like they were the only good parts of a bad memory.

               “My mom used to bring us here a lot,” he said, “back when she was around.”

               “When did she die?” Max asked quietly.

               “She didn’t,” Alex said simply. “She left. But this fair . . . it’s my favorite time of the year. Michael knew that.”

               “Alex,” Max shook his head. “I’m sure . . . I’m sure he had a reason for what he did.”

               Alex scoffed, but the press of his lips was both sad and sincere. “I know he did. But god, what could be worth all this?” he gestured at his own face, the exhaustion and misery there. “I can usually read him, but this time I just . . . can’t. I hate not knowing.”

               Max thought about that, and realized he was the same way when it had to do with someone he loved. How was he going to save someone who didn’t want to be saved?

               “Tell me something you do know,” he offered. “You said your brothers are happy to enlist. Does your dad make them all?”

               “No,” Alex sniffled. “No, dad would never make any of us enlist. He pushes it hard, and all the time, but . . . no, if you don’t want to enlist, then just don’t bother coming back home, you know?”

               Max hesitated. “Have you ever . . .?”

               He expected Alex to laugh it off or be indignant about anyone even considering that he would ever enlist, but he only sighed and confessed, “Sometimes.”

               Max stared. “S-Seriously?”

               Alex shook his head, smiling, and for once, he didn’t look sarcastic or amused. He just looked sad. “You don’t know what it’s like there. Or how bad it gets, and – and sometimes I think . . . I couldn’t afford a place of my own. I could escape him though. I could rise in ranks, I could beat him –”

               “Beat him some other way!” Max argued, and a few heads turned to look. Alex didn’t look like he cared, he never did, but Max stepped closer. “You can’t enlist, Alex.”

               Alex looked away. “I said I thought about it, okay? Only when things get really, really bad. It doesn’t mean I’ll do it. I’ll find some other way.”

               He didn’t sound sure, but Max couldn’t have been more sure of his abilities and talent. Alex was the strongest and smartest person he knew, he could easily make it out there. And what if . . . what if he had Max there with him? Supporting him? Helping him? The two of them together in a small apartment in New York or something –

               Max shut his eyes. He wasn’t supposed to think like that. This wasn’t supposed to be long-term. Soon enough, Michael would tell him the truth, and it would all be over. Alex might even hate him for it. He didn’t want to think about that though, so he bought Alex the biggest blue cotton candy swirl, got one for himself, and laughed with Alex about the sizes.

               About an hour in, Alex seemed to really be having a lot of fun. He was laughing at Max’s stupid jokes and tugging on his arm to show him little ceramic toys for sale and even a small aquamarine necklace that glittered in the moonlight with a gold chain so thin it was almost a silk thread.

               When Alex wasn’t looking, Max bought the necklace, and snuck up behind him, letting it rest in the dip of his collarbone.

               “W-What –”

               “For you,” Max said.

               Alex touched the stone, still stunned. “Max, I’m not – I’m uncomfortable accepting so many gifts from people.”

               “I’m not just people though,” Max said simply. “I’m your . . .” he caught himself, “f-friend.”

               Alex looked at him. Max may have been wrong, but he could’ve sworn Alex had seemed disappointed for a moment at the use of the word friend.

               “R-Right,” he murmured. “Still, no more gifts, okay?”

               “No promises,” Max grinned, and his heart jumped when Alex’s face turned that same shade of pink. He was starting to wonder if he could turn it any darker when Alex glanced up and froze.

               “Oh my god,” he breathed.

               “What?” Max followed his gaze, and understood what it was that had terrified him. Making their way towards them was some man in uniform, and beside him was Jesse Manes, hands folded behind his back with his medals shining on his uniform jacket, smiling at booths and laughing with children who ran past.

               That, Max realized, was the most frightening part. Who would believe Alex if he told them their beloved sergeant was a monster?

               Alex stepped back, already trembling. He turned, but the crowd had gathered around them. Even if he stood in the shadows outside the lanterns’ light, he was still visible to anyone passing by, especially if his dad was looking through the booths. He would see Alex here, and just the implication that he was here with Max would get him hurt again.

               Alex hugged himself. “Think, Alex,” he whispered to himself, looking around frantically for a hiding spot. “Think.”

               Max looked back at Jesse. He was getting closer. He couldn’t stand seeing the usually intimidating Alex so frightened now. He had to protect him.

               He took Alex’s hand in his own and pulled him into the shadows, up against a booth. “Is your dad uncomfortable with PDA?”

               “What?”

               “Is he?”

               “Uh – yeah!” Alex shook his head, confused. “He hates it –”

               “Good,” Max breathed, taking Alex’s face in his hands, and before Alex could ask what he was doing, Max closed the distance between them and covered Alex’s mouth with his own. Alex stood frozen against him, but Max wouldn’t pull away, his body blocking Alex’s from sight.

               Half of him was silently urging Alex to play along, if only long enough to get his father’s attention away, but as Alex whimpered softly against his lips, his body melting against Max’s, his hands coming up to Max’s chest, clutching his shirt, Max suddenly forgot all about Jesse Manes.

               He forgot about the fair, he forgot about the booths around him, the crowd of people. He couldn’t think of anything but how soft Alex’s lips were, how perfectly he fit in Max’s arms. Max wanted to taste more of him, so he slipped his tongue in. Alex moaned, pressing unbearably close, and Max could feel him. His toned chest, his flat stomach.

               Max had never wanted to feel another man’s chest until this moment, to claw down his stomach, to feel the muscles of his back. Max tilted his head, bringing his hand around the nape of Alex’s neck and reaching his fingers through his hair, tugging a little on the strands.

               Alex’s hands came up to Max’s face, one hand reaching into his hair. Max wanted to tilt his head, to deepen the kiss, to put his hands up Alex’s shirt and feel his skin. He wondered if it was as sexy as the rest of him – he knew it had to be – and his hand had just fallen to Alex’s hip, tugging at the hem of his sweater, when he heard someone behind him scoff –

               “Ugh, disgusting,” a voice said, and Max snapped out of his thoughts.

               He pulled away, pressing his forehead to Alex’s, the both of them panting heavily. Alex’s eyes were closed, and Max took the opportunity to trace his deeply red cheeks with the tips of his fingers, his rosy, kiss-swollen lips.

               “Wow,” he breathed.

               “Yeah,” Alex swallowed and opened his eyes. They fluttered again as Max traced his thumb across his lips for the second time. “That – that was –”

               “Wow,” Max finished.

               Alex huffed a breathless chuckle. “Are you okay?”

               Max shook his head. “Wow.”

               Alex started to laugh, but seemed to remember they were supposed to be hiding. He covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes wide. Max wanted to hear his laugh, so he looked over his shoulder for any sign of Alex’s dad, but he was so far down the path that by the time Max had tilted his chin up to get a better look, Jesse Manes and his friend were completely gone.

               When he nodded to Alex, Alex’s grin widened and he laughed happily into the night. He jumped into Max’s arms, his own wrapped around Max’s shoulders.

               “Thank you!” Alex said into his shoulder, his voice muffled and filling Max’s chest with butterflies. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He heaved a deep sigh, probably the deepest he’d had in a while. “Thank you, Max.”

               Max wrapped his arms around Alex’s waist, keeping him close and steady against him. In the back of his mind, he could hear Michael’s one, big warning about Alex.

               “Don’t kiss him.”

               But now, in this moment, as he could still feel Alex’s soft, warm lips against his own, as he could hear his moans and smell his sweet scent, he couldn’t remember why.

               He smiled into the crook of Alex’s neck and said, “You’re welcome, Manes.”

It’s finally here! Please please please comment and reblog/share if you enjoyed reading even a little bit, it always makes the world of a difference 💗 I’m going to bed.

#alex manes #max evans #sheriff manes #sheriff manes fic #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #tyler blackburn #nathan dean parsons

[wylanvnneck]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could write the angst prompt number 1 with jurdan??🥰

Angst Prompt #1: “The worst part is you didn’t even notice.”

Fandom: TFOTA

Ship: Jurdan

Masterlist | Prompt List

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High pitched giggles peal through the air and the noise makes the 21 year old Cardan Greenbriar wince. He’d been away from his hometown of Elfhame for 2 years now, having happily left it and his controlling family behind after graduation to go live in his dorm room back at Insmire University with his crazy roommates. Yet here he was, back again for a week-long visit in honour of his old friend Locke’s engagement.

He and Locke had never been all that close to begin with, but he had been his oldest friend, and it did seem like a good idea to come back for a bit and see how much things had changed in the years since he’d be gone, which didn’t seem to be all that much. 

Locke was still the same fox-faced wastrel that he had been, except that he was now engaged and the other member of their old gang, Valerian was still as snarky as usual, a perpetual sneer on his face whenever someone attempted to speak to him. Seated at a round outdoors table surrounded by his High School acquaintances, Cardan feels nothing but boredom.

He grips the neck of his wine glass even tighter when he sees the source of the giggling emerge from Locke’s house where his engagement party was being hosted. Taryn Duarte the Bride to Be and her posse of friends strut out into the garden from the inside of the house where they’d been gathered together doing goodness knows what for the past half hour. A glimpse of blue hair catches his eye and he recognises it as belonging to a girl named Nicasia that he used to be friends with back in High School, a million years ago.

Taryn’s six inch heels click against the asphalt of the garden path and the sight of her familiar icy brown eyes and dark hair brings up a volley of almost forgotten feelings within him. Not feelings for the rather cold female before him, but for who she reminded him of. Her twin.

Involuntarily he finds himself scanning the group of women for any sign of Taryn’s sister before coming up short and then chastising himself for looking in the first place. Jude belonged in the past where he had buried her. He takes another sip of the red wine in his hand before shifting his attention back to the conversations happening at his table, a politely unimpressed looking Garrett talked in low tones with his friend Van, both of them engrossed in whatever they were discussing, and a slightly inebriated Valerian was attempting to flirt with the disgusted woman seated next to him. 

Resisting the urge to let out a growl he downs the contents of his glass in one go before standing up to re-enter the house and get a refill, needing some kind of distraction.

He’s just finished pouring some more Merlot into his glass from the otherwise empty bar table when a rustling sound travels from somewhere nearby. He glances up at the staircase by the other end of the room, catching sight of a silky white fabric and dark brown hair before whoever it was disappears from view. Stange, he’d thought all of the other guests were outside. Setting his glass down on the table he climbs up the stairs, curiosity getting the better of him. 

Having reached the landing he searches for any sign of where the person might have gone, walking a little further down the hallway on the left before seeing the big French windows leading out to the balcony flung open, the cool night air drifting in.

Cautiously, he approaches, his body going on high alert when he notices who it is that’s standing out on the balcony, hands loosely clutching the metal rails and face turned up towards the starlit sky. Her chestnut hair is tied in an intricate braid hanging down her back and she’s wearing a slim fitting black top and flowy white pants which sway gently around her legs and she looks even more gorgeous than she had in their High School days. He takes a moment to catch his breath before slowly trudging forwards to join her.

She turns when she hears footsteps approaching, a slight frown marring her expression before she recognises him and it clears. Her gaze is as disarming as it used to be.

"Shit, man, don't just sneak up on people like that," a corner of her lip quirks.

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, "Oops, sorry."

“I didn’t know you were coming.” He catches the questioning lilt in her statement.

“It was a last minute kind of thing, I wasn’t sure if I’d be coming either, until yesterday.”

She nods and he positions himself next to her but at a safe distance, one hand coming to rest carelessly on the balcony rail next to hers.

He watches her let out a soft whoosh of breath, looking down at the garden where people were now dancing to the music that had started playing on the expensive speaker set under the bright fairy lights. There’s laughter and cigarette smoke wafting upwards, but from their little spot up above, everything seemed to be much farther away than it really was. 

Eventually, he breaks the silence. “So, Taryn and Locke, huh?”

“Yep.” She replies. The look on her face is one he can’t quite decipher.

He clears his throat and speaks in a tight voice. “Are you...upset by that? I know you and Locke used to be close.” 

He recalls the rumour that used to fly around during their senior year, people whispering about Jude and Locke having a thing. He also remembers the sharp pain that he’d felt when he’d heard that Locke had asked Jude to be his date to their Senior prom and that she’d accepted. Cardan vaguely remembers asking Nicasia to be his date to that very same prom, but the only thing that comes to mind when he thinks about that night is the haze of jealousy that had clouded his mind when he’d seen Locke twirling a grinning Jude around the dance floor.

“Me and Locke? God no. He was just a friend. Although, I think even that was only because he kept showing up and trying to talk to me in Senior Year for no apparent reason.” 

Cardan feels a surprisingly strong sense of relief wash over him at the fact that Jude was never interested in Locke that way, before his eyebrows knit together a moment later. He’d drunkenly confessed his ginormous crush on Jude to Locke at the start of their senior year, and immediately regretted it the next day. It wouldn’t surprise him if Locke had been cozying up to Jude simply to get on his nerves. It definitely seemed like something the manipulative scoundrel would do.

Not that it mattered anymore. Years had passed and he’d probably lost his chance. If he’d ever had the chance in the first place.

“I heard you’ve been off at uni all this time. Insmire, huh?” Her words are light but he’s slightly astonished that she’d been keeping track of where he’d been for the past few years. 

“Yeah, it was the break I needed.”

“What are you studying?”

“My dad wanted me to do Business for when I inherit his company, but I’m also doing a course on Classical and Ancient Languages, purely because I wanted to.”

“That’s great, Cardan.” Her sincerity is clear. “I remember how controlling your dad was. It’s great that you’re finally getting to be your own person.”

He’s sure that his astonishment at her words is blatantly obvious because a barely detectable flush travels up her neck and she averts her gaze. Not only had Jude Duarte been keeping track of where he’d been, she’d also noticed his strained relationship with his father all those years ago. A thrill rises up inside of him.

“Thank you.” He pauses. “So what have you been up to these days?” he asks, like he hasn’t been checking her social media pages at least once every few months, unwittingly grinning whenever he came across one of her rare posts with her and her few friends hanging out together outside of her own University in Nightfell. 

“Oh, same as you actually, getting a taste of independence at Uni. Doing a course on Criminal Justice.”

“That sounds amazing. Tell me all about it.”

And she does, her eyes lighting up as she talks about a subject that she enjoys studying and half of his attention is taken up by what she’s saying and the other half is just focused on her, on the way the moon illuminates one half of her and how the breeze is playing with a few loose strands of her hair and the way her mouth is moving whilst she speaks. They chat for what feels like ages before the conversation eventually flows to a comfortable halt and they hear the clanging of plates and glasses below as the other guests start on dinner, and he knows they’ll have to leave this place of idyll at some point.

He hates that. That they’re on borrowed time and that they were separated by too many years and very separate lives for their situation to be anything different now. And yet, he needs to tell her, to let her know, even if it can’t change anything.

“You know, back in High School I used to daydream about this. You and I, just talking.” He knows that the tips of his ears are probably flaming red, just like the rest of his head, but he forces himself not to look down and to keep meeting her stare. Her eyes widen when she registers what he’d said.

“I-What?” Her shock is apparent.

He breaks eye contact with her, withdrawing his hand from the spot next to hers on the rail, the disappointment coursing through him undeniable. He’d known that she’d never noticed him, but it still hurt to see the bafflement in her reaction.  

“I had a crush on you for ages, pathetic pining and all, and the worst part is you didn’t even notice.”

She flounders, mouth slightly agape, for once not having a response and the smile that curls his lips is one without mirth.

“Well, it’s been nice talking to you Jude,” he grits out, swiftly turning in an attempt to flee with what was left of his dignity.

He’d made it to the top of the staircase before hearing her voice calling after him. 

“Cardan! Cardan wait, goddammit.”

Reluctantly, he stops, bracing himself for the awkwardness of the next few minutes. She’d look at him with pity, explain to him that she wasn’t interested, or maybe that she had someone else. That last thought lances through him like a punch to the gut. During his self-indulgent social media searches he had never seen any posts that indicated that there was someone special in her life, but that didn’t necessarily mean that there wasn’t anyone. After all, Jude Duarte was a special type of woman, the type of woman that you fought for.

Too bad that he’d figured that out too late.

The sound of her boots clacking on the floor gets closer and closer and he turns around just in time for her to throw her arms around his neck and drag his head down to connect their lips, their noses bumping together in the process. Time stops, and his every High School fantasy comes true when he feels her tangle her tongue with his and it’s a little sloppy at first, especially since she had caught him off guard, but they find their rhythm and flames lick through his entire being. Frantically, he grabs a hold of her waist and pushes her until she’s against the wall, her fingers coming up to tangle in his locks as he strokes her sides.

She pulls away to breathe and they’re both panting harshly as if they had run a marathon. 

“I had a crush on you too. I hated it and I tried to fight it because you used to pick on me in middle school.” 

Had he? It was so long ago that he really couldn’t remember, but he also knew that he was precisely the type of person who’d want to hurt the girl that got under his skin.

“Really?” He grins ruefully.

“Yes, really.” She reaches up and playfully smacks the back of his head before carding her fingers through his hair in the same spot to soothe it.

‘Well, my middle school self humbly begs for your forgiveness.” He leans forward and presses their foreheads together, locking his gaze with hers.

“Apology accepted.”

And then they’re kissing once more. He may not have been prepared for a moment like this, but he was sure as hell going to hold on to it and never let go.

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Some soft boi Cardan for you lovely peeps. I hope you see this and that you enjoy, Anon. Thanks for the ask!

Tagging: @cupcakesandkittens , @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln, @thewickedkings , @kittkatandbooboo , @min-unicorn, @fangirlprincess09, @thefolkofthefic

Let me know if you’d like to be added to or taken off of the tag list🌻

#dd writes #jurdan #jude × cardan #tfota #tfota fic #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #fanficion #the folk of the air #taryn duarte #locke #valerian #holly black #tcp #the cruel prince #twk #the wicked king #tqon #the queen of nothing #anon #fanfiction #the folk of the air fanfiction #send me a prompt <3 #tw swearing #tw smoking #queue of nothing

[whosscruffylooking]

The Purest Things: Wingmen (Aaron Hotchner x Female BAU! Reader)

this is based on season 10 episode 10 “amelia porter”

Warnings: None. Pure Fluff.

A/N: I am so beyond obsessed with the mutual pining. Initially, this was going to be one part, but I have to slow burn the heck out of this, so it'll be a few parts. Enjoy!

The Purest Things Masterlist

august 2014

Bookend: "You meet thousands of people and none of them really touch you. And then you meet one person and your life is changed forever." – Love & Other Drugs

I walk into the jazz club, searching for Rossi. For the past year and a half, we have frequented this classy establishment, bonding over our shared passion for jazz and fine liquor. We come here every Friday unless the job keeps us away. It's a form of escapism that I have grown to cherish deeply. With a job like ours, finding something to look forward to each week, some semblance of a routine is crucial.

I stroll over to “our” booth, but instead of seeing David’s familiar face, it's that of the Unit Cheif. I throw my head back and laugh, “Of all the people I could have expected to see here...you were not one of them.”

Don't get me wrong; I'm not upset to find him here. I could never get enough of him. I see him nearly every day of the week, I have weekly movie nights with Jack, and Aaron and I have been to hell and back with each other over the years.

He shakes his head and smirks, “What can I say? I'm full of surprises.”

“So tell me Aaron Hotchner, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening?”

“David Rossi, ” he emphasizes.

“So you’ve been recruited as one of his wingmen too huh?”

“Apparently so.”

“Well I'm glad you're here.” I slide into the booth next to him.

He glides his cup in circles along the tablecloth, “Me too.”

“May I pry?” I inquire.

He nods, “You may.”

“Why exactly are you here? Believe me, I'm thrilled you're joining us, but David and I have been coming here for over a year. Why'd he invite you now?”

His shoulders tense up, and then he inhales deeply, the tension releasing when he exhales.

“If I'm being completely honest, I think it has something to do with the fact that Beth and I are no longer together.”

“Oh my God, Hotch. I'm so sorry, I didn't know.”

Aaron looks up at me; the professional man, the profiler I'm so familiar with, is gone. Instead, he looks at me with the eyes of a vulnerable man, someone who loves so passionately and craves that same love in return. This isn't the first time he's looked at me with those eyes, and I pray that it is not the last time. If it were anyone else, the prolonged eye contact would deter me; my glance would dart in the other direction. But, for years, I have savored these intimate moments with him. I'm not exactly sure when this connection began or when it deepened to the awareness we now have of one another.

Most likely, it began shortly after Haley’s death, when I started to spend more time with Jack or those late nights working in the office with him. Maybe it was that time I brought him his favorite coffee and bagel to his house because I knew he wouldn’t feed himself otherwise.

(Aaron’s P.O.V.)

I gaze at her with utmost fascination. She is a mystery I have never been able to solve, a profile I cannot complete. She is whole, a pillar of strength for our team, her family, me, and Jack. Yet, there is a fear within her that mimics a young child scared of the monsters that are both imagined and real. She’s seen and experienced things that no one her age should have to witness. I can see through the worn expression on her face. She’s holding herself together for the sake of everyone around her, but inside she’s slowly falling apart. All I want is to help mend those crumbling pieces and hold her together. She doesn’t realize that she has been doing that very thing for me for the past four years.

In my life, I have had the opportunity to love deeply and freely. But two of those loves stand in realms of their own. The first time I fell in love, it was with an opposite. A precious, symbolic tale of love and loss.

With Beth, I did love her. She gave me the strength to feel something again after Haley died. I found the ability to move forward with hope and recognition that I deserve happiness once again.

The second great love came in the form of a mirror. We share an empathy, an understanding of the fundementals of life and love that shapes our individual values. I was far from perfect when we met; I was detached, damaged, and hopeless. I felt like I was barely a man. Truth be told, I won’t be perfect after the fact either. But, she gives me a sense of realness that I never perceived as possible. And since the day we met before I even accepted the actuality of my affections for her, I strove to better myself. Every day since, and for the rest of my life, I want to work every day to be the man she deserves and needs.

Awakening from my trance, I speak up, “I am grateful every day for the relationship I had with Beth. I truly did love her. I love her still for the person she helped me become. I realized, through her, that I can choose to move forward with my life.”

“You deserve to be happy, Aaron,” she interjects.

“Some time ago, Rossi came into my office encouraging me to start dating again. He reminded me that Haley wouldn’t want me to avoid moving on. Of course, my immediate instinct was to deny that I was guilty of just that. But he was right. He told me that I am no good to anyone when I’m miserable.”

She throws her head back and laughs, “Miserable? No, I wouldn’t call you that. Slightly uptight? Absolutely.”

I gasp, exaggerating a look of offense, “I’m hurt.”

She touches my arm, and I can feel my heart stop for a beat. Something about her touch elevated my heart and soul to another plain. It’s as if her small hand on my forearm revealed the certainty I had been searching for.

I chuckle, “Don’t worry. David and I came to the same conclusion.”

“Phew,” she breathes out a sigh of relief, “Good because I didn’t know how I was going to dig myself out of that hole....but please, continue what you were saying.”

I take a deep breath, “When you and I met I had already lost my entire world. Haley had just recently taken Jack, we were fighting constantly, and then...” I feel my eyes beginning to sting, and I realize that she hasn’t taken her grip off my arm once she squeezes it reassuringly.

“When Haley died, it felt like I was staring into an abyss. After the funeral, you found me alone, in some room that I had escaped to for some solace. But I didn’t feel any relief. And then, you came in. You sat across from me, and we just sat in silence. Somehow though, more was said in that silence than I had ever dared to utter out loud to someone. You didn’t know it then, but you saved me that day. You saved Jack too.”

I hear her short intake of breath and look over to see her lip beginning to tremble.

“Aaron...”

As much as I want to hear her melodic voice speak to me now, when I am most unarmed, a feeling that is entirely foreign to me, I have never felt so driven to yell from the top of my lungs a profession of love for this woman.

I begin to speak again, and I am immediately interrupted by Rossi, accompanied by the jazz singer hooked on his arm.

“La mia bella ragazza! Finalmente sei arrivato,” he says, kissing the top of her head. She blushes slightly, her eyes flickering to me briefly.

“You are a sight for sore eyes my dear. Is she not Aaron?”

I take a sip of my drink, glancing at y/n, her beautiful y/e/c sparkling back at me. How can anyone put into words just how beautiful she is?

I nod, “She is indeed.”

I’m suddenly made aware of the absence of her touch on my arm. How can someone’s touch both simultaneously have such a stronghold on you and also set you free? Regardless of the reason, I long to savor that feeling once again.

“Well,” she inches out of the booth, “I’m going to get a drink. Can I get you boys anything?”

We shake our heads in unison. Rossi suggests that his date join her.

He places his hand on my shoulder, “So? Any progress made?”

“I don’t want to overwhelm her. There’s so much I want to say. But I feel like I’ve put her through enough already. I’m an old man Dave. I’m a widower with a son. The damage I’d be asking her to cope with, the burden I’d be subjecting her to...”

David clears his throat and slips his phone out of his pocket. He swipes through some photos in his camera roll and lands on a photo of y/n and me. It’s from a cocktail party he hosted a few years ago. Jack, y/n, and I are sitting on the grass in Rossi’s backyard playing with dandelions. I can still hear their laughter filling the air: Jack’s squeals and y/n’s child-like giggles. We felt like a family. I would give anything to relive those moments of genuine bliss, to feel that sensation of being complete, heart, mind, and soul once more.

“Sometimes,” Rossi begins, “when people are destined to be together, their love grows over an undetermined span of time. It could be months, weeks, even years. You both may feel the shared pain of this rollercoaster called life and the hurt that comes from being separated from one another, but this helps you better grasp the priceless value and purity of the love you share. There is no easy road to love. Anyone who claims otherwise is doomed to be plagued by the mediocrity that is a false sense of security. The path you are on, Aaron is the one walked by the greatest lovers in history. In layman’s terms, don’t screw this up.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner x y/n #criminal minds headcanons #criminal minds angst #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x y/n #hotch x reader #hotch x you #spencer reid headcanon #spencer x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x y/n #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner series #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #derek morgan