#I don’t like the two hour time difference. I’m far too scheduled for that not to affect me

[quiteunpersuadable]

It’s been less than 24 hours, but I’m all ready to go home!

[eoieopda]

whiskey neat | jwy

there’s no common ground between yours and wooyoung’s vastly different circles. that is, until tuesday nights at the black cat form the center of the venn diagram.

pairing: jung wooyoung x reader au: strangers to something type: one-shot | smut wc: 8.3k rating: 18+ | minors do not have my consent to interact. cw: inspired by hozier’s “too sweet”, primarily wooyoung’s pov with one switch at the end; bartender!wooyoung, musician!reader, alcohol use, setting is a bar, uhhh wooyoung is a (to the tune of that arctic monkeys song) cigarette smoker, oral sex (v), protected sex (p in v), corruption kink kind of?, use of “sweetheart” (fatal). reader notes: afab (gender identity not designated); kind of naive; into fitness/“wellness” (no body type/weight is described, except wooyoung thinking they’re “strong” + reader thinking that they are in the best shape of their life); wears a sundress at the beginning. the following terms are used in the scenes involving smut: pussy, cunt, clit, tits (no description given). a/n: i quite literally started this in march 2024 and then experienced the most severe hobby death of all time. this is coming after five (5) months of scooping it out of my brain with a melon-baller, so… not my best, but here she is! thanks @sailoryooons for beta-ing because i’m self-conscious lately 🍤

Tuesday nights at the Black Cat never used to be busy. 

For three years, Wooyoung spent the majority of his shifts behind the bar doing fuck all: Folding receipt paper into increasingly complicated and wasteful shapes; replacing citrus wedges that went unused and then brown; paying visits to the stray cat camping out in the alley near the dumpster. He’d go hours without talking to another human being, and he never took issue with it, even if his wallet did.

Two months ago, however, things changed. 

Two months ago, management started panicking about the lack of revenue. To keep the lights on and draw in a crowd of (hopefully) soon-to-be regulars, they implemented a schedule of recurring events — some monthly, others weekly, most stupid.

Wooyoung’s precious solitude disappeared, and in its place, he got trivia nights and turntable DJs, showing off their collections of vinyls. Games of bingo targeting hipsters, who show up en masse to fight it out for prizes — potted plants, of all things — they could easily buy on their own for far less than their tabs’ totals. Themed brunches. 

A million other events and just as many used glasses to wash.

Despite his ever-present scowl — his face just looks like that —  it hasn’t been all bad. Without the newly-added acoustic sessions, the bar wouldn’t need a local performer to both play and host on a biweekly basis. Management wouldn’t have reached out to you; and you’d have no fucking reason to come to a dive like this. Suffice it to say, your pilates-practicing, daylight-disciplined circle of doers would never otherwise overlap with Wooyoung’s, in all its nocturnal, nicotine-dependent grit.

Tuesday nights at the Black Cat now occupy the center of the Venn diagram.

As usual, you come traipsing in half an hour before your set starts with a gig bag slung over your shoulder and a megawatt smile on your face. This is your natural state, he’s come to learn. Solar-powered. It shouldn’t be possible, but you manage to brighten further when your searching eyes find him sitting on the counter behind the register.

Through no fault of his own, Wooyoung’s gaze trails down from your face to the little sundress you’re wearing. It’s new, he notes immediately. The skirt of it flutters with each step you take, showing off more and more of your thighs as you move.

You don’t react to the migrating fabric. Just the same, you don’t notice his appraisal or the way patrons’ heads turn as you cross the bar. 

No surprise there, he thinks. 

From the four (4) entire conversations the two of you have had so far, you’ve made one thing abundantly clear: You’re inclined to assume the best of people and their intentions. 

Nine times out of ten, Wooyoung dodges naivety like that the second it starts skipping his way, well-versed in the consequences of trusting so implicitly. You and your cotton-candy smile have proven to be the outlier, though. Working in tandem, you and that grin have him pinned where he sits with no urge to run.

You don’t notice that, either.

When you slide onto the stool across the bar from him, Wooyoung finally clocks what you’re holding. Your right hand grips some green concoction that he suspects was made with kale. Or moss? In your left hand, an iced Americano — beautifully black — weeps condensation onto manicured fingers, making hard-earned calluses glisten.

Wooyoung’s racing thoughts about those hands are still inflicting psychic damage when you lean further over the counter.

“Extra shot of espresso,” you hum as you hold the coffee out to him. You do your best to tease him, though you’re shy as hell about it, so the words still manage to come gently: “For those of us who were still awake when the sun came up.”

Wooyoung mentioned his coffee order several weeks ago in passing. It’s sweet in a way he’s not used to that you’ve not only remembered how he takes his coffee, but that you���ve brought it to him ever since, apropos of nothing, when all he’s ever done is his best to get a rise out of you. What he’s up to isn’t sweet — not by a long-shot — but it’s easily done and well worth the misplaced effort when he sees how flustered he can make you.

Wooyoung tilts his head, draws his lips in a straight line, and gestures to your cup with his. “Worry about those waking up shortly after sunrise, sweetheart. They’re drinking algae.”

As intended, you’re visibly affected by the pet name, so much so that you stumble over your defense. “It — it’s healthy!”

“It’s swampy.”

Your nose scrunches indignantly, prompting the edge of Wooyoung’s mouth to tick upwards. He doesn’t emote more than that. Five (5) conversations in now, and he’s already picked up on how much it gets to you when he only concedes a hint of a smirk.

As much as he’d relish the opportunity to sit here and keep toying with you, the crowd surrounding you has doubled in a matter of minutes. Just over your shoulder, Wooyoung sees a patron glance down at the screen of her phone to check the time; then, he hears the complaint she thinks is muttered quietly under her breath. It’s not. In fact, you hear it, too, and you divert your wide, heart-shaped eyes away from him. That smile of yours curves in the wrong direction once you do.

When you look back at him, you say, “I should go,” but he hears it for what it is: an apology. 

He’s never been good at ending conversations — especially in the rare case that he’d prefer to keep one going — so he nods, leaves it at that. You pause for a nanosecond, as if you’ve got something else to add, but you don’t. You smooth down the back of your dress once you’ve hopped from the stool to your feet. Then, you mimic his gesture. 

You make it two steps towards the stage before Wooyoung calls out to you, prompting you to spin back around and your dress to flutter:

“Thanks for the coffee, sweetheart.”

Your frown disappears instantly. The smile that replaces it is still there when you disappear into the crowd, only to resurface several seconds later on the tiny stage across the room.

Guitar now in hand, you duck your head through the woven strap, shuffling carefully closer to the microphone stand. You introduce yourself, strum a quiet, major chord, and chirp, “Welcome to both the Black Cat and my favorite day of the week.”

Normally, you leave shortly after your last set, as if you’ll turn into a pumpkin when the clock strikes ten. With the schedule you keep, it’s no wonder. From what Wooyoung has gathered so far, you wake up before dawn most days to get a workout in before heading to the office. The very idea makes him nauseous whenever he thinks too long about it, so he does his best not to. 

Mornings are for sleeping, he told you once.

Life is for living, you’d replied.

Apparently, the two of you have drastically different ideas about what living looks like.

For Wooyoung, life on Tuesday nights looks like catering to a steadily dwindling crowd once you finish up and disappear with a friendly wave goodbye. It’s cleaning up sticky spills, resetting migrated stools, and doing a half-ass restock that will make the opener — him — complain about the closer — again, him — when his next shift starts at 5:00 PM on Wednesday. 

In the gap between his shifts, life looks like meeting up with his similarly shadow-dwelling friends on someone’s balcony to chain-smoke, sip whiskey, and watch the sunrise until he gets bored. From there, it’s either walking back to his apartment or kicking said friends out of his, so he can rot in front of his PC. Eventually, life looks like blackout shades and crashing into bed while the world around him heads out for brunch.

Tonight, however, life is starting to look a little different.

When you wander over, it’s not to say goodnight or close out the tab you think you’ve accrued, which Wooyoung never opened in the first place.

Maybe, he thinks, you’ve finally caught on that all these “technical issues with the point-of-sale system” — occurring for the last four (4) shows in relation to one (1) patron in particular — can’t possibly be a coincidence. That a free drink given will always beget a free drink received. That Wooyoung doesn’t deal in unpaid debts, even if he hasn’t and won’t own up to his petty workplace theft.

You sidle up to his bar and slip back into the stool you’d previously occupied, no more aware of the way your sundress shifts now than you were earlier. Likewise, he’s no less blatant with the way he looks you up and down, eyes lingering unabashedly and hungrily. The pair of you float in each other’s orbit for a few moments just like this: waiting for the other to speak first.

“Don’t you go to yoga class at ass o’clock on Wednesdays?” He eventually inquires, leaning back against the counter behind him with his arms crossed and head tilted.

Your eyes flick down to the screen of your phone, which rests face-up on the bar between your elbows. You clock the time but not the way your current posture causes the neckline of your mostly modest dress to plunge. Conflict creases between your eyebrows, then you tilt your chin to look at him.

Wooyoung knows that look, although he’s never seen it on you before. That look begs to be talked into something, rather than out of it. It’s a look he gets often. For better or for worse, it’s one he never turns down.

“I do,” you admit through a sigh. 

Offering nothing more than a hum to indicate his intrigue, Wooyoung watches you and waits patiently for you to elaborate. Another few seconds slip by without a word. His attention makes you shy, he notes; he loves it. 

But he loves the idea of toying with you even more, so when you don’t say anything else, he takes that attention and diverts it to the few remaining patrons, all of whom have vested interest in closing out and getting out.

Good riddance, he thinks as the last of them stumbles out and away, leaving the two of you in charged silence. 

Even more seconds pass. 

Still nothing.

Wooyoung glances around and finds a bottle of Jameson on its very last leg. It’s the perfect amount for a litmus test — two shots left, nothing more to give and everything to prove. Snatching two overturned shot glasses from where they dry on a holed rubber mat, he empties the whiskey evenly and turns back to you with an eyebrow raised.

Your eyes widen slightly when he sets the spare on the bar in front of you, more so with interest than surprise. For a moment, you stare at it with the same ambivalent expression, nibbling thoughtfully on your lower lip. 

Finally, you all but whisper, “I should’ve been in bed an hour ago.”

With his left palm flat against the bar, Wooyoung rests his weight and leans in, eyelids and voice dropping. “Why aren’t you?” He murmurs, gaze flicking down to your lips then back up again — just long enough for you to notice that he was, in fact, looking. “Hmm?”

Your breath hitches — just loudly enough for him to notice that you are, in fact, finding it hard to function this closely to him.

“On a school night, no less.” His eyes narrow teasingly.

“I’m asking myself the same question,” you confess, though you’re the picture of innocence. Your fingertip traces idly down the side of your shot glass, then back up again. 

He’s as distracted by the mindless movement as you are, albeit for different reasons. Before he lets himself get carried away in wondering whether or not your touch is always that delicate, Wooyoung lifts his glass and gestures for you to do the same. “Sounds like you could use a bad influence.”

A soft clink permeates when your glasses touch, followed by a muted thump when the bottom of each one is tapped against the bar. Your heads are thrown back in unison, just like your drinks, and when your faces finally level out towards one another’s, you counter him breezily, “Maybe you could use a good one.”

Wooyoung thinks he could use more than that.

Breaking eye contact, you glance down at your phone again. It’s obvious that you’re second-guessing your decision to linger. He wants to chuck that brick in the bin with the other useless shit, to get rid of any excuse you might give for having to leave, but he doesn’t. 

And you don’t give him an excuse.

Your hand wraps around that fucking phone, then you stand up slowly. 

“Try not to stay up too late,” you advise with a smile that still manages to read like disappointment.

Don’t.

Reaching into the pocket of your jacket, you pull out the tips you made tonight and collect a few bills before dropping them on the counter to cover the shot you didn’t even order. Wooyoung wants to tell you not to — that your money isn’t good here, even if you are — but he knows it won’t make a difference. 

You sling your gig bag over your shoulder, thank him, and tell him that you’ll see him in two weeks.

He scrubs his hands over his face the second you walk out the door and mutters through gritted teeth, “Fuck.”

You don’t see Wooyoung in two weeks. 

As a matter of fact, you cancel your acoustic session for the first time ever. Management either doesn’t know why you bailed or doesn’t think it’s any of Wooyoung’s business, so no one bothers to tell him. If he’d ever thought to ask for your number, he could check in on you himself, but he didn’t and therefore can’t.

Ignorant and annoyed, he resigns himself to occupying an empty tavern on a goddamn Tuesday night, yet again. 

Nobody brings him coffee. 

Nobody worth talking to crosses the threshold. 

No one makes little comments — genuine concerns poorly disguised as digs — when he uses the paring knife to carve little stars into the lip of the bar top, instead of slicing limes. 

And when he gives up and closes down early, he’s so tired of his own shit that he simply goes home and goes to bed.

Bed being the operative word. 

He doesn’t go to sleep, even though he has nothing better to do. Alternatively, Wooyoung replays your last interaction on a loop in his head, daydreaming about what could’ve happened if you’d stayed. While his thoughts spiral, his hand drifts, finds the pulse beneath the zipper of his jeans, and feels the throbbing ache building through the denim.

It’s pathetic. 

He knows it. 

Too bad that doesn’t stop him from fucking his fist every night for the next several, imagining how much softer yours must feel.

The patron pulls a face the absolute second Wooyoung slides her glass across the bar. 

Wholly uninterested in the response one way or another, he slathers on his customer-service smile and asks her, “Alright?”, in a tone that doesn’t match his expression in the slightest.

“There’s no ice in it,” she mumbles, cringing in mild horror as she does. As if the liquor features his spit instead. “I wanted ice.”

There’s a split second where he almost lets his mask crack, says something shitty just because his mood was already sour before she walked over. Wooyoung doesn’t get the opportunity, however. Over the girl’s shoulder, someone gently intervenes: “Neat means no ice. You’d have needed to order it on the rocks.” 

A beat passes, then comes, “Or — you know, with ice, please.”

Wooyoung neither hears nor cares what the girl says in response. She shuffles off, and that’s all that matters. Without her body blocking the way, he sees you clearly. You’re more done-up than usual, like you’ve just come from somewhere far nicer than here.

“It’s Saturday.”

Probably should’ve started with hello.

After eyeing the glowing, neon clock on the wall, Wooyoung notices that both hands are pointed skyward. He corrects himself, “Nah, it’s Sunday.”

You slip into the now-unoccupied stool ahead of him and nod, chuckling like you can’t believe it, either. When you settle in, you prop your elbow on the bar top, then your chin upon the heel of your hand. Just above, your eyes twinkle with a kind of mischief he’s never seen you wear before.

That might be the thin veil of tipsiness, actually. 

Not that he’s complaining.

Wooyoung hides his amusement by bending over and rummaging through the under-counter refrigerator that hums beneath the register. The rush of cool air has nothing to do with how awake he suddenly feels. He wonders if you feel the same but can’t ask outright; eagerness isn’t his style.

“You’re here on purpose?” He asks instead, resurfacing with a bottle of soju — some new, fruity flavor he assumes you’ll like — and a raised eyebrow.

You hum appreciatively when you see what he’s holding. That soft sound that punches him right in the center of his chest with force. “I was out with friends, but…”

Your voice trails off, too distracted by his hand enveloping the seal-covered bottle cap. With a firm grip and quick twist, it’s gone. You’re still eyeing his hands, he notes, even though all they’re doing is holding the bottle. 

Normally, he’d love to give you the benefit of the doubt and attribute your sudden fixation on the rings he wears. It wouldn’t be the first time a man in jewelry snags attention, complimentary or otherwise. Unfortunately — or maybe fortunately? — for you, Wooyoung forgot to put his usual accessories back on after this afternoon’s shower.

Nope, he thinks, biting back a wolfish grin. He’s not alone. You daydream about his touch, too.

Catching yourself staring, you shift atop your stool with a quiet, self-conscious laugh that sounds more like a sigh. He opts to let it go without further teasing, but he doesn’t let it go entirely. That breathy little noise echoes in his ears, drowning out the faint slosh of liquor as he fills your glass. 

In a weak attempt to distract himself, he remembers your half-finished sentence and prompts with a low voice, “But?”

“They wanted to end the night.” You accept the glass into your hand from his and raise it slightly in thanks. “I didn’t,” you whisper, then bring the rim to your lips to cloak their upward curve.

Wooyoung would be lying if he said your tiny act of defiance didn’t send all the blood in his body rushing straight to his dick. Maybe it’s arrogant of him to assume that he’s the source of this newfound rebelliousness. The spark that lit the fuse, or whatever. Maybe that should bother him. Of course, it doesn’t.

In an effort to hide how strong of a chord your confession has struck, he gestures with one extended finger to the clock. Your eyes follow, and he leans in closer; the smirk you can’t see is still evident in his voice, he’s sure.  “How much of a coincidence is it that you showed up right before the trains stop running?”

When your gaze flicks momentarily back to him, he spots a hint of surprise. This impeccable timing wasn’t a scheme at all, he realizes. Not a plot. If he had to bet, Wooyoung would guess that you’re never out late enough to know that the train schedule ends at all.

God, you’re going to give him a cavity.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Coincidentally, I know someone who gets off just in time to walk you home.”

“This gonna bother you?”

Having stepped out of the bar before Wooyoung, his question prompts you to look back over your shoulder at him, one eyebrow raised slightly out of curiosity. He lifts his right hand from his jacket pocket to reveal the half-spent pack of cigarettes he’d been storing there.

He expects it to, and to his surprise, he cares enough about that possibility that he doesn’t light up without asking in the way he normally would.

“In theory, yes,” you laugh, “because I’d prefer your lungs to be tar-free.”

“And in practice?”

You must not have expected him to note the distinction; you fluster. Grinning slightly, Wooyoung answers his own question on your behalf, “In practice, you find it kind of hot.”

He keeps his eyes on you as he pulls a cigarette from the pack — slowly, to test his hypothesis that you’ve got a thing for his hands — and then, Wooyoung slides the cardboard back into his pocket. 

Your gaze follows while he gently places the filtered end between his lips. It stays put when he furnishes a lighter, holds the flame to the opposite side, and inhales. Turning his head to the side, Wooyoung exhales the smoke where it won’t reach you. 

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” he assures you, eyes devilish. Deer in headlights that you are, you freeze but for the bob of your throat as you swallow. “I won’t make you admit it out loud.”

Yet.

Once he’s decided that he’s played with you enough for the time being, two of you head south, ambling under streetlights without any sense of urgency. Making up for lost time, maybe; picking up where the last Tuesday left off. 

He can’t tell if it’s the alcohol making you more talkative than usual, or if you’re feeling the rush of your off-brand decisions, but Wooyoung’s fine with it, either way. You tell him about your week — in full and without hesitation — like you’re chatting to a friend and not someone you’ve only just started to encounter on a brief, twice-monthly basis.

You had a date this Tuesday night, he learns. It didn’t go well. Too similar, you explain with a wave of your hand. According to you, it’s boring to sit with you at a dinner table. Wooyoung looks pointedly at you as soon as he hears it, noting his disagreement. For a second, you assume something he doesn’t mean: that he enjoys his own company more than you enjoy yours.

“No,” he corrects you. “I just can’t picture dinner with you as something boring.”

You duck your head, embarrassed. “Oh,” is all you manage in reply.

Wooyoung follows your lead across several more city blocks, hanging on every word you say in the meantime. When the pair of you reach the front of your apartment building, his cigarette is spent, but neither one of you is. He takes an extra step towards the garbage can near the door and drops the butt amidst the others in the lid, which doubles as an ashtray. A faint vein of smoke bleeds out until the dark sky laps it up entirely.

You look conflicted when he turns back in your direction. Clearly, you don’t want him to leave just yet, but asking him upstairs is likely way out of your pattern of behavior. Wooyoung sees two options: He could say goodnight and go; take a few steps towards his side of the city, and hope you to act even further out of character, or — 

“If you’re asking, I’m saying yes.”

— he could go off-script entirely.

Your apartment looks exactly the way Wooyoung expected it to. Everything is cozy; a far cry from the modern and monochrome edge of his place. It all makes sense, based on what he’s learned about you so far. Feels like you, although he’ll concede that you haven’t been felt by him just yet.

Each shelf features a tchotchke or framed photograph — or several — but not a single speck of dust. Likewise, the various potted plants you’ve displayed artfully around the space are well-kept. Flourishing, he assumes, despite the fact that he doesn’t know shit about fuck when it comes to plants.

His shoes, ratty in comparison to yours, are toed off at the door before he follows you further into the kitchen. You stop at the island, bottom lip between your teeth once again. Unsure, you nibble on it, like it’ll help you set your dizzy mind straight.

When Wooyoung inches closer to you, he does it slowly, even though every part of his body demands that he ramp up the pace. As badly as he wants his hands — and his teeth, and his tongue…— all over you now, he can’t be the jump scare that sets your little bunny heart to sprinting. The adrenaline is practically vibrating off your frame already with every step he takes in your direction.

Though you could, you don’t move further away, the nearer he gets. You stay put with the small of your back against the lip of the granite counter, hypnotized. Right where he wants you.

Once he’s close enough, Wooyoung tests the waters. You let him; your gaze clings to him so strongly that he feels the weight of it without reciprocating. With his thumb and forefinger, he traces the belt loop closest to your left hip, then tugs slightly, making your breath quicken for a moment. 

Eyes still focused on his own ministrations, he murmurs, “Am I the first stray you’ve ever brought home?”

You don’t answer with words. His gaze flicks upwards, and from under heavy-lidded eyes, he sees the tiny nod.

“Full of surprises.” He looks down again, purposely depriving you of eye contact, and moves his fingers from your belt loop so that the pad of his thumb brushes over the top of your jeans. There, the skin of your hip peeks out from under the denim, hot to the touch. “Not just sweet, are you?”

“Someone told me I needed a bad influence.”

The sudden re-introduction of your voice pulls his focus. You stare back at him boldly, and it feels like a dare. Both of his hands move to your hips now, simultaneously guiding you closer to his chest and keeping you pinned between his body and the island.

“You’ll miss your Sunday morning pilates, I fear,” he tuts with a slight shake of his head.

“You’ll make attending redundant, I hope.”

And then your mouth is on his, all tongue and teeth, while you card desperate fingers through his hair. It occurs to him, as he licks into your mouth, that the split-dyed strands you're clinging to are a microcosm. 

Black and white. 

Conflicting tastes, like sugar and salt, that only make sense together in certain contexts. Like this one — right here, right now — with the two of you tangled up in your half-lit kitchen, so caught up in exploration that inhibition takes the backseat. Steeping in the aftertaste of soju and cigarette smoke, scent heady like arousal.

You break the kiss to catch your breath but can’t make it very far. His teeth claim your bottom lip, pulling forth the softest little growl he’s ever heard.

“Fuck,” he echoes with a growl of his own. 

That’s it. Breathing is overrated. Wooyoung’s ready to suffocate, so long as you let him.

“Lay back on the counter.”

You’re stunned into silence for a second, and while you blink back at him, he wonders if you’ll actually let him eat you out where you eat. It’s objectively filthy, he knows, but he might drop dead where he stands if he has to wait another second — or take another step elsewhere — before he tastes you.

Your answer is a leap, figuratively and literally. The hands you’ve been using to cling to him each flatten palm-down on the island behind you. With his grip on your hips to boost you, you scramble to your new stage; and you shatter the conservative expectations he had for you in the process. 

A newfound confidence flashes in your eyes, making his stomach flip and his dick twitch. A patronizing frown graces your kiss-bitten lips. “You didn’t walk three kilometers here just to look at me, did you?”

He sure as shit didn’t. Still, he can’t help but bask in the odd sense of pride he feels in staring up at you on the pedestal he put you on. The more time you spend with him, the rougher you seem to get around the edges; and he’d be lying through his teeth if he said he didn’t love the grit.

In lieu of a verbal response, Wooyoung locks eyes with you and gestures downward with the index finger of his right hand. You follow his silent command eagerly and without question; he keeps the praise you’ve earned on the tip of his tongue, saving it for later.

It takes less time than he expects to strip you of your jeans, most of which is attributed to slipping them off your ankles and dropping them blindly over his shoulder. They hit what he believes to be the range with a soft twack, then a barely audible crumple when they finally find the floor. 

Your lace underwear disappears in a similar fashion, albeit more eagerly. Couldn’t be helped, he thinks. That scrap of fabric was the last barrier between him and the thing he’s been craving most since he met you; and fuck, if you don’t exceed his expectations once again.

“Christ,” is all he can say.

It’s rare to find a pussy so perfect that it wipes out his vocabulary, let alone makes him want to weep. That’s exactly what’s waiting for him when you spread your thighs wide enough to accommodate his body between them. Really, the only thing driving him more insane than the sight of you is the thought of how many self-imposed rules you’ve broken to get to this point — the self-discipline you’ve thrown out the window on your way down to him.

He accepts the invitation, descends upon your wet heat like a man starved, and loops his arms underneath your thighs. Immediately, your thighs tighten around the sides of his head, muffling the groan that slips out of him the second your taste hits his tongue. Just the same, you’ve got him drunk in an instant while he laves his way through folds sweeter than cherry wine.

From under his own lashes, he looks up and sees yours flutter at the sensation of his lips encircling your clit and suckling slowly, deeply.

“Oh, my g-god,” you hiccup before your fingers are in his hair again, nails scratching perfectly along his scalp. “You’re so —” 

Wooyoung’s wickedly curved lips are slick in more ways than one, though he doubts you can see them through all those stars in your eyes. You don’t see the switch-up coming, either. Unwilling to let you race too far ahead of him, he scales it back, trading his deep pulls for targeted kitten licks.

“— evil.”

Your frustration rings out with a tortured whine. Wooyoung can’t blame you; he knows he’s cruel for guiding you so close to the edge, right out of the gate, then refusing to send you off of it. But he has to draw this out as long as he can, savor what he can for however long you give him.

And to your credit, you take it well. 

You give, too, offering up the moans, whimpers, and sighs he couldn’t have dreamed up correctly if he tried.

Well…

Wooyoung did try. Gave it his best shot, even, but his imagination fell short. He knows that now. The pitch was wrong, the timing was off, and he failed to anticipate just how badly it’d fuck him up to feel you grinding against his tongue. To have your fingers tied off in his hair, refusing to accept anything less than closeness.

That particular chorus swells for the first time when he unwinds his right arm from where it secures your left thigh; and his middle finger slides into your cunt, curls upwards to greet that spongy patch of nerves along your front wall. 

Eyes swimming with previously untapped desire, you look so pitifully perfect. Only breaking eye contact to throw your head back, you start to wail, “Wooyoung, I —” 

But the rest of that thought must turn to static before you can finish it. Charged silence settles in its place, save for your ragged breathing. All the while, his tongue never lets up on your poor, abused clit, though your arousal already has him coated, leaking down over the knuckle.

A particularly needy tug of his hair seeks what you can’t verbalize. 

More.

Closer.

When he adds his ring finger to fuck you further open for him, you can’t keep his name from spilling out of your mouth. Wooyoung starts to sound like a summoning spell; an invocation repeated so desperately that he just might give you what you want.

“W-Wooyoung, please,” you choke out, hips bucking up to chase his mouth. “I’m so close!”

The fact that you’re downright begging — on the brink of tears, no less — goes straight to his head. He lets up for a moment to purr, “Since you asked so nicely…”

The hand he doesn’t have half-buried in your heat grips your right hip, hard, securing you against the granite. It’s for the best, really. You jolt so much when he finally lets you cum that you could’ve knocked him out otherwise.

Not that he’d complain.

When the aftershocks peter out, and you gain back some control of your trembling limbs, you collapse back onto the countertop, chest heaving as your breath struggles to even out. One leg stays put, hinged over his shoulder, the best kind of dead weight; the other pools off the edge of the island, hanging limply.

Before pulling away entirely, Wooyoung presses an open-mouthed kiss to the soft skin of your inner thigh, suckling slightly — just enough to leave a calling card, though he doesn’t want anyone but you to know it’s there.

“You fucking menace.”

Your eyes flutter open and catch the way he’s grinning, the lower half of his face otherwise shining with a mix of spit and slick. With you watching intently, he licks his lips, simpering, “Think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you swear.”

“Deserved.” You sigh contentedly and close your eyes again for a second, but the blissed-out look on your face doesn’t dissipate. 

Wooyoung wonders if you’re holding onto the image of him between your thighs, replaying it behind your lids. The sight of you is going to haunt him — then and now, before and after. Even if your stamina is depleted now, his appetite’s been sated. He can survive off of this moment alone for weeks if necessary.

But you summon the strength to stretch your arms over your head, to moan breathily while you arch your back off the counter and ease the tension in your muscles. Then, in a burst of vitality, you sit upright. Eyes alight, you give him a smile to match.

“Help me down?”

As if he’d say no to a question asked that sweetly.

You wobble when your feet touch the ground again and thank him when he snakes an arm around your waist to steady you. With a nod in the direction of what Wooyoung assumes is your bedroom, you beckon him, “Come with me.”

“That’s been the plan, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes at him — another first — and take his hand in yours. Fingers intertwined, you lead and he follows through the adjoining living room towards a door on the far side of the apartment. The pair of you barely cross the threshold into your bedroom before you turn and tug his hand, pulling him into a kiss.

“Do me a favor,” you murmur against his lips.

Wooyoung has no questions about that — the answer is yes, no matter what the favor is — but there is something he’s wondering about: when you open your mouth against his, can you taste yourself on his tongue?

Distracted by that thought, and the way your free hand makes its way to the button of his jeans, he nods. It gives him the opportunity to swallow down the groan that builds in his chest when you squeeze his still-clothed cock.

Your mouth leaves his then, drops to the side of his neck. Something about the light nip of your teeth below his ear makes his resolve start to crumble. It only gets harder when the warmth of your tongue flicks over his skin to soothe the sting. He sounds fucked out already when he sighs, “Anything.”

“Let me repay you for all those drinks you never charged me for.” Between kisses down the length of his neck, you purr, “Not exactly subtle, you know.”

He clenches his jaw to keep it from dropping. “Have I been hustled?” 

“Is it hustling if I offer to reimburse you?” 

Knowing damn well what it’ll do to him, you flutter your lashes against his skin, forcing him to fight off a shiver. There’s no hiding the rush of heat that follows; he doesn’t need to ask to know that you feel it creeping up his neck. “I’ll make up for it,” you promise. “Atone, and all that.”

Wooyoung reaches up and cups your jaw with his hand; you follow his direction and look up at him with excitement twinkling in your eyes, juxtaposing the deep black in his. “I’m charging interest,” he bites back. “The rates are astronomical.”

“Oh?”

“Oh, indeed. Get on the bed, sweetheart.”

With a light smack on your ass, he sends you on your way. In the few seconds it takes you to skip over to your mattress and jump onto it, he tugs his shirt up and over his head, then tosses it aside. Before unbuckling his jeans and tearing those off, too, he snatches his wallet from the back pocket. More specifically, the condom he’s been keeping within just in case you ever decided to stoop to his level.

You’re a second away from drooling when he makes his way over and stops at the edge of the bed. That kind of hunger is yet another thing he failed to see coming. There’s something insatiable in your eyes now, darkening by the second. 

You reach out for the condom, but he pulls his hand back, holds it up where you can’t reach. Frustration makes your eyebrows pinch together. Out of context — if you weren’t naked, wet, and wanting him — he’d likely go out of his way to tell you how fucking cute you look when you’re annoyed. 

“Don’t pout at me, sweetheart.” Wooyoung’s warning tone is gravel-lined, sharp to the touch when it hits you. Whether you intend it or not, your breath hitches in tandem with your pupils dilating.  “I’ll let you do it, but I have one condition. Consider it a repayment term.”

You tilt your head to the side, eyes narrowing with intrigue. “And what’s that?”

“No hands.”

The surprised look he was counting on never comes. He gets sheer determination instead. You pull the packet from between his fingers, rip the foil open with your teeth, and flick the empty wrapper onto your nightstand. Not a second is wasted in you tugging his black briefs down his thighs.

You don’t deal in unpaid debts, either, it seems.

What happens next nearly puts him in an early grave. Wooyoung fucking wishes for a fly on the wall to witness you — someone else to memorialize the finesse you exhibit in working that latex down his length with your mouth alone — because he can’t believe his own eyes. In fact, he has to screw them shut to keep from cumming at the sight of you with his dick down your throat, lips flush to his pelvis.

“My god,” he groans, head dipping backwards. “If that’s how good your fucking mouth feels…”

You give him a second to pull himself together. Then, you wrap your hand around his wrist and pull him. He drops into the space you were occupying just a second ago, and as soon as his back hits the mattress, you steady yourself with your palms on his chest and position yourself over him.

Now, he can’t keep his hands to himself. His fingertips scratch up your thighs, leaving goosebumps along the fastidiously trained muscles underneath his touch. Palms gliding up the curve of your ass, then your waist, then those fucking tits.

“Shit,” you mewl. He lightly pinches your left nipple between his thumb and forefinger, spurring you on to rake your nails over the flesh of his chest. The way he tenses under your touch must embolden you. “Play with me all you want, but I need you inside of me now.”

Wooyoung has no idea where this assertiveness came from, but he’ll be goddamned if he doesn’t give you everything you want and then some. To prove that you’ve earned the lot, you line yourself up and take everything he has. 

Somehow, you manage to take his vision, too. The world gets blurry as your heat envelopes him; everything in the periphery blackens until all that’s left is you throwing your head back in pleasure. No other light, no noise beyond the obscene sound of your pussy soaking his length and the collision of your perfect ass against the tops of his thighs.

As strong as you are, Wooyoung knows your orgasm will wipe you out long before your body tires. He sees your eyes start to roll back in your head, even when you put your palms down behind you and lean away from him to perfect the angle. 

Not good enough, he decides. He wants to watch your pupils blow when you fall apart.

“C’mere,” he rasps. 

Fuck, he’s about to break, too. 

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

You push off your hands and move to lean in, but you wind up crumpling against his chest, immediately overwhelmed by the depths of his strokes when you re-enter his gravity. With the proximity perfected, every movement that follows is desperate — animalistic, even. Clinging fingers, sweat slicked bodies swapping searing heat. He lifts his hips to drive himself further into you with every downbeat, sets a pace so punishing that he has you speaking in tongues.

When you cum the second time, the moan that rips through you almost sounds like a sob. It really might be. The droplets on your cheeks are either tears or sweat; one or both would be justified, considering the show you just put on for him.

Shit, how you managed to blow his world to pieces just by walking into his bar, he’ll never understand. All he knows is that when he cums — not long after you — and his entire fucking body goes numb, you’re there on the other side of the cataclysm to kiss him back to life.

Sweet.

When you wake up, you don’t even have a guess as to what time it is. That’s your fault, you know. You didn’t think to connect your phone to its charger prior to falling asleep in a mess of sheets. The numerous alarms you always keep set didn’t go off, obviously, but right now, that’s the least of your worries. 

Until your phone has enough juice to power back on, you won’t know if Wooyoung texted you before sneaking out of your apartment.

You’d taken it as a good sign when he asked for your number in a fucked-out haze. Now, you realize, that naivety of yours was operating in full swing, even when the rest of you was down for the count. That’s what one-night-stands are for, you tell yourself. That’s the decision you made.

Uncharacteristically, you’re tempted to spend the rest of your day — however much of it is left — rotting in bed. It’s an urge you’ll give in to, you can already tell; just like the one that got you here in the first place. The only thing stronger than the call of your bed is the grumbling of your stomach, begging for sustenance.

Sighing loudly, you throw your comforter off your lower half and wiggle towards the edge of your bed. Bare feet meet the braided rug below, then unsteady legs do their best to get their bearings. As you ache, you realize that you need to give credit where it’s due:

You’re currently in the best shape of your life, and Wooyoung still managed to fuck the constitution out of you.

You bend slowly to scoop a shirt from your untouched laundry basket, groaning all the while. On its own, it’s long enough to cover your ass, so you don’t bother to dress yourself further — except for the fuzzy slippers waiting next to your bedroom door.

It’s closed, you note when you finally bother to look at it. It wasn’t when you fell into bed with Wooyoung. He probably didn’t want to disturb you on the way out, you figure. This would strike you as thoughtful if it didn’t feel like a chapter ending too soon. Reaching out to reopen it, you tell yourself to be less sentimental.

In the living room, laying eyes on an empty kitchen, you also tell yourself, I told you so. This isn’t a drama, after all. There’s no love interest in your kitchen to cook you an unexpected breakfast. 

Pre-made frozen breakfast sandwich it is, then.

You tear open the package with more effort than you should’ve needed to expend, then dump the single-serving lump onto a paper plate. As if on autopilot, you shove the plate into the microwave and smash a few buttons without registering much of it. The quiet hum of the machine nearly lulls you straight back to sleep.

Well, it likely could have.

The metallic rattling up the hall catches your attention, prompting you to step backwards so you can peer over at your front door and confirm that it’s locked. It is. You turn back to your breakfast in progress, and it takes five (5) entire seconds before you realize the issue here.

Keys jingle with more determination, right on cue. You spin around fully this time, eyes wide, to find Wooyoung in your doorway. He holds the door open with his elbow because both his hands are full; and as if that all wasn’t enough, he tries to toe off his shoes without being able to see them over the cardboard to-go tray in his hands.

“Fucking —” he grunts, wobbling. 

It must’ve been louder than he intended because he winces immediately. In his moment of panic, his eyes flick over to your bedroom door. Then, when he realizes it’s open, they search for you, blinking in surprise when they find you. He peeps, “Oh.”

As it turns out, his ability to make you lose your words isn’t limited to late hours. The sun is beating through the sliding glass door to your balcony, and you confirm that you’re just as dumbstruck by him in daylight. So, you simply point to the drinks and paper bag he’s holding with your eyebrows pinched in confusion.

“Found that café you go to on Tuesdays,” Wooyoung explains gruffly. His morning voice is every bit as ruinous as you imagined it would be. “The logo on their cups is just a cloud, so it took a lot of wandering to solve that fucking mystery.”

This time, it’s you who peeps. “Oh?”

It’s then that he finally succeeds in getting his shoes off. With his hip, he nudges the door shut; your key ring chimes in the process, having been attached to his belt loop. In a few steps, he sets his burdens down on the kitchen island and looks up at you with a wicked glint in his eye. Apparently, his immediate thought is the same as yours. Simpering, he picks everything back up and makes for your living room’s coffee table instead.

“I’m glad to report that the green shit you drink doesn’t include algae or moss.” He lifts a smoothie from the carrier and holds it out to you, flashing you a smile that makes your knees wobble. “However, I regret to inform you that it does contain vegetables.”

If you try any harder to bite back your idiotic grin, you might lose your lips. “Did you — did you really think there was moss in it?”

He waves his hand dismissively. Notably, he doesn’t say no. That hand then lowers, finger crooked to beckon you closer. You move in, and you try to focus on the moment in front of you, rather than the obscene flashbacks the gesture gives you. The knowing look you expect doesn’t follow, though. Wooyoung simply places your drink in your left hand and your keys in your right.

“Sorry for borrowing those without asking or — well, notifying you in any way, whatsoever.” He grimaces. “I figured I’d be gone for a minute, and I didn’t want someone to waltz through your unlocked door and wake you up.”

“Was burglary on that list of concerns, or is sleep truly your main priority?”

At this, he grins like an idiot. “You’re getting better at that, you know.”

The look on your face must convey your confusion. 

“I like the version of you that doesn’t pull punches,” he continues, sounding almost embarrassed to admit something about himself.

You take a move from his playbook and slide your finger through his belt loop, tugging him forward until he’s squarely within kissing distance. “This Wooyoung?” You murmur, “The one who got up early to hunt down a smoothie he’s disgusted by? Objectively likable.”

He rolls his eyes, but it doesn’t distract from the pink tint overtaking his cheeks. “I don’t know about that.”

You kiss him before he can offer to agree to disagree. And when you finally pull back, you nod firmly. “He might be sweet enough for me.”

while likes are appreciated, comments/tags/reblogs with your thoughts are really what make my brain go brrrtt.

ateez masterlist. multi masterlist. navigation.

tagging: @jihopesjoint @bahng-chrizz @sourkimchi @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @notevenheretbh1 @borabitsch @bubbly-moon (also paging @moni-logues because i feel like woo is our sister wife, lmfao.)

[takumiraine]

Once upon a time chapter 3

3 chapters in as many days? Nobody tell my Ao3 readers. I don’t have siblings, but I hope I captured banter well.

<first> <prev> <next>

Once upon a time two men stopped believing in fairy tales.

Jason walked into the admissions office with Dan’s schedule memorized as well as Bab’s working schedule in the library to debrief both before and after and make sure their own girl genius ate. She was the only one in the family that didn’t treat him differently since the whole dead until he wasn’t thing after all.

“Hi there,” Jason said to the woman working the desk, turning on every ounce of charm, bringing out the smile that historically got him into as many troublesome spots as it got him out of. “I’m Jason Todd-Wayne and I think I’m ready to put down roots and get my degree in Literature. Russian or English, doesn’t matter.”

“Oh!” The woman looked suitably flustered, and he felt suitably stupid as he stood there with that thousand sun smile and his stupid shock of white hair and completely unprotected t shirt and jeans. Yeah he had a couple of knives in his boots but… he felt entirely too exposed. “Let me… make a call and see who can get you settled in.”

An hour and one incredibly flimsy “yeah well I’ve been doing absolutely no learning the last five years just give me the remedials first” lie later, and Jason had a schedule that matched up in a couple places with this Dan person.

He went to go see Babs at her job in the library, stopping at the campus coffee shop to bring her her favorite drink. May as well add some extra bribery to keep her from spilling if Bruce asked.

Jason doubted he would but weirder things have happened.

He walked up to where she was tapping away on one of the computers at the reference desk. He reached over and set the coffee near enough so she could grab it and far enough away that she wouldn’t throw a fit about the possibility of spills.

Jason looked around idly, waiting for her to be done with whatever task she was set to. Once she was done she grabbed the cup. “He’s here.” She said, taking a drink from her coffee.

Jason blinked. “What?”

“Yeah. Once I saw him this morning, without static, I realized why he was familiar.” There was the steady beep-beep-beep as she checked in books. “He practically lives here. Northwestern corner on the desktop.” More beeping and Jason turned his head under the guise of scanning the space as he sipped from his own drink. “Wouldn’t be suspicious except for last night, and knowing his class schedule.”

Jason nods, pushes off the desk and makes a slow circuit under the guise of looking for a book. The kid, under bright daylight, looks like hell. Pale with dark circles under his eyes. Thin. A quick glance at the screen shows him working on math way more complex than the remedial class he - they were taking. He selected a book from the shelf and returned to Babs.

“Kid looks more dead than I am,” Jason muttered, setting his cup down and paging through the book. Not only did the kid not notice when Jason got close but didn’t look over. No sense of danger that one.

He stood, making bland conversation with Babs and skimming through the book. At least until the kid got up. A quick check of the clock showed it was almost time for their first shared class. He walked out first, and pulled out the sheet of paper with his schedule. When the kid passed by Jason stopped him.

“Hey, sorry to bug you,” he wasn’t, “I started a bit late. Any idea where DL 115 is?” Danny startled a bit as he realized he was being spoken to, before nodding.

“Yeah. Headed there now. C’mon. I’m Danny.” The kid gave a smile and Jason was hit with the thought that with some sleep he was probably handsome.

As they walked Danny rambled a mile a minute, giving directions and a mini tour. Everything surface level, but kind nonetheless. He stifled a yawn as they passed the cafe where Jason had gotten the two coffees earlier that morning “and I’ve heard this place has the best coffee anywhere near campus. Haven’t tried it myself so your mileage may vary, but the smells are right.”

Jason normally found this sort of prattle irritating, but he found himself more amazed at the fact that a kid who had a knife in his stomach no more than 12 hours before was moving like nothing happened.

When they got to class Jason took the spot next to Danny. “Thanks for the tour man,” he said, wishing he could drop the Jason Todd-Wayne persona and go back to being just Jason.

“Yeah. Of course. Gotta help where you can.” Point one against being a rogue in the making. “Whats your major?”

“Literature. You?”

“Mechanical Engineering. I’m shit at lit, my high school teacher once accused me of being that dense on purpose.” Jason couldn’t help the snort, and he caught Danny’s lips quirk in a smile.

“Whats an engineer doing in a remedial math class?”

“High school was murder. Spent most of the time ghosting my classes.” He shrugged a bit, arranging the books he brought on the table. “Chronic underachiever.” The last two words were said with the same tone of someone who had heard them more often than anyone bothered to ask the reason behind it. Jason wasn’t quite sure where that point fell.

“Well, we need more engineers here. You grow up in one of the districts?” Small talk was a Wayne staple and even though Jason could appreciate the way they were helping him get information from the kid, it made him want to claw his face off.

“Nah.” A pause and the pit in Jason burned suddenly. “Small town in the Midwest. They need good ones there too. But Gotham was willing to pay me to be here.” He shrugs. “It’s a living I guess.” Jason had to resist the urge to grit his teeth. “You grow up here?”

A breath in. Out. Control. “Yeah. Crime alley until I was adopted by Bruce Wayne.”

Something in Danny’s look changes subtly, and the pit shrieks. Jason clenches a fist under the table, nails biting into his palm. “Doesn’t he fund the Justice League?” Knowledge outside his scope. Either the kid researched or had inside info. One point for rogue. Jason shrugged one shoulder and did his best ‘I just work here’ voice.

“I think so. Managing the money is more my brother’s thing though.” Keeping his voice even is a struggle with the way the pit lashes inside of him. Sweat beads at his hairline even though he’s certain the air conditioning just clicked on from the way the air is suddenly cooler around him.

“I hate those assholes…” he heard Danny mutter as the teacher entered and began the class. Another point towards rogue. So far it was pretty even, but there could still be an explanation.

The teacher began droning on and slowly the pit calmed in him as more math was put in front of them. Jason wished it would act up. Trying to manage it would keep him occupied from the numbers. They always only meant one thing. There was no subtext. No beauty. No romance to it.

God. If anyone knew that the vicious Red Hood was secretly a romantic? Kill him again now. He glanced over at Danny’s notebook when he realized he missed some instructions. The guy’s handwriting was a mess, little notes jotted this way and that with arrows connecting it to something else that Jason recognized from the more complex math that Babs and Tim sometimes got on about.

Danny caught him looking and trying to copy, and rolled his eyes but put dots next to the things he was missing once he looked over at Jason’s mess of notes.

After class, Jason couldn’t help but ask “why are you in this math class? I’m the wrong guy to ask but that sh…stuff,” he corrected, reminding himself who he was supposed to be. Danny raised an eyebrow but let him continue, “seems way more complicated than what we’re learning.”

“I’m a bad tester.” He shrugs. “I’ve had worse lecture experiences.”

Jason had an opening to get to know this guy better. “Any chance you’d be willing to tutor me?”

Danny’s eyes furrowed at him, “I’m sure your dad could hire someone with a math degree, not just some….” He waved his hand “nothing nobody from nowhere.” He finished. Jason considered, or at least pretended to.

“He could, probably a whole fleet of them. But I hate asking him for things. Rich people are just….”

“Pompous assholes?” Danny supplied when Jason seemed to struggle for a nice way to put it. Even Sam had been at first, her parents’ attitudes surrounding money rubbing off on her.

“Yeah. We don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things. But I will pay.”

Danny seemed to consider that for a while, watching him more closely than the exhausted appearance would make anyone expect, something sharp and calculating in his gaze. Finally he seemed to decide and nodded, opening to a page where he had his schedule scribbled out. “I guess. When?”

“As soon as possible, I’ve already missed a couple weeks and I’m totally lost.” Not a complete lie. He could get himself caught up but making the bridge with Danny was more important. “Dinner at the cafe? I’ll buy for the inconvenience and then we can head to the library and get started?” Jason remembered Danny showing the mugger the empty wallet the night before. Either the kid kept his money elsewhere or he was broke.

Those sharp blue eyes landed on him again and narrowed slightly, and Jason got the distinct impression he was trying to weigh Jason’s soul against a feather. Then, again, Danny looks away and shrugs. “I guess. My next class is out at five.” Jason made a point of checking his watch. It was three. He nodded. “Meet you there at quarter after.” Jason nodded his agreement and stood. As Danny started to walk off Jason heard “And don’t think I’ll take it easy on you just because you’re a pretty rich boy.”

Fuck. What had he just gotten himself into?

The class Danny was headed to wasn’t one they shared, so Jason returned to the library. “Any idea what the kid does on the computer while he’s here?” Jason asked quietly, standing next to where Babs was shelving books. She handed him one and he put it back where it belonged, over her head.

“Excuse you, libraries are havens for those who want to be away from the panopticon of spying that is the powers that be.” Babs shot back, handing him another book. She could have reached that one but they both knew the understanding was clear, ‘you stand here to bother me during my normal girl hours, you work.’

‘And I know you’ his look countered. She sighed, wheeled herself and the cart to a different shelf.

“Nothing suspicious. Some conspiracy forums. Spends a lot of time sharing conspiracies with accounts named Technus and Ember, occasionally gets told to ‘go outside and eat something’ by an account called Desiree. Everything seems normal, or as normal as can be from conspiracy nuts.”

“What’s their favorite conspiracy?”

“Ghosts mostly. Though Pariah, Dan, also talks about how the JL is either in the pocket of the government or vice versa. He can’t seem to decide.”

“Any idea why he hates them?”

She hums, finishes with that shelf and moves along, waving cheerfully at some students that come out of a study room and keeps on her way. Jason is amazed that she manages the heavy book cart with her wheelchair. It’s just proof that there’s nothing that Babs can’t do. Jason doesn’t offer to push it. If she wanted his help she’d tell him. Or hand him something.

“Something about only helping when it suits them. Sending the government to put down anyone who needs help that they don’t want to give.”

“Threat assessment?” Jason was willing to bet that there was a reason. Maybe not a good reason, but a reason.

“Minimal so far. If they are working together, this forum seems to be their only point of contact. Ember is in Bludhaven, and although I haven’t been able to get any real id on her, Dick says there hasn’t really been anything abnormal out there. She uses a different computer almost every time and pays in cash. Technus is in Metropolis. Has some pretty nasty firewalls. I could get past them but then he’d probably know. Desiree is in Yale, studying psychology. She’s probably the one I have the most information on. Real name Jasmine McLain. Eldest daughter of two middle class parents, younger sibling died in a hit and run in high school, left town first chance she got and never looked back. Overachiever in high school and got an associates in Psychology while working full time. Doesn’t know much about net security but nothing stands out beyond that.”

Jason shelved a few more books. Wished he still smoked. “Something doesn’t feel right.” He couldn’t put his finger on what.

“Sure it’s not that jacket?” Jason looked down at himself, frowning. He looked pretentious. He looked like an asshole. He looked like Tim or Bruce.

“Now that’s just mean and uncalled for Barbie.” He said her name just loud enough for some stupid barely 18 year old somewhere in the stacks to chirp back ‘Hi Barbie’ almost automatically.

Babs pulled a face, elbowed him in the ribs. “Laugh it up J.J. the Jet Plane.”

In spite of the carefully honed bat instinct that said he was missing something important, Jason smiled.

[strawbeerossi]

Only Friends

Pairing: Gender Neutral!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: You and Spencer are best friends who act like anything but.

Content/Warnings: Oblivious mutual pining, kissing, lap sitting, teasing friends, cute little love confession at the end.

Word Count: 1.3K

Anon Request: hiii oki req (if u want pls take ur time) i think this is prob OOC butttttt spence + reader being in love and they don’t even realize it but they still kiss/ cuddle when they hang out and stuff and just say “we’re really close is all” “best friends kiss!” and stuff..

Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request

🏷️ @kr-1-sta @iluvreid @nervousmoongiver @multifandom-on-the-side @ferrjulie

Affection in friendships aren’t always the same. Some friends hugged, some friends rarely talked yet maintained a healthy friendship, some friends even showed the smallest bit of intimacy due to their comfortability.

You and Spencer were just a tad different. You two would cuddle, share brief pecks on the lips, as well as sometimes shower together whenever you were in a rush on a case and got a brief break.

It wasn’t anything inherently romantic or sexual, just something that came easy. The team was highly convinced you both had a secret relationship. Which was fair enough, however no matter how many explanations, they never seemed to be enough.

Tonight the team was having a small watch party for a new show at Penelope’s apartment. She’d been so desperate for the team to have something like a show they watched together, or special games to play together. Nobody could really say no.

You had arrived with a handful of snacks just an hour prior, helping one of your favorite coworkers set up her apartment for the night ahead. As expected, it turned from you helping to the bubbly blonde interrogating you over the aspect of a potential relationship.

“We aren’t dating, Pen.” Your head shook as you were filling a bowl with pretzels, taking it to the table in order to place it in the available space surrounded by other snacks. “I saw you guys kiss before you left the office yesterday! What kind of friends kiss each other on the lips?? If this is normal, we need to make Derek aware because I am missing out.” Penelope huffed out of frustration. “Mark my words, I will get to the bottom of this. When I find out that you are secretly dating, I will bring all of the hurt!” The blonde held up her fist while narrowing her eyes in your direction.

By the grace of all things holy, it wasn’t long until the team had slowly begun to show up. There were no more interrogations, not yet anyway. As everyone was piling up on the couch, there was very limited room for you as you walked out of the kitchen. “Fuck.” You groaned, arms crossed. “I am not sitting on the floor!”

“You can sit with me.” Spencer spoke up from his spot at the far end of the couch, his shoulders shrugging as his hand patted his thighs to offer you the spot in his lap. “Come on! This is a family friendly show! None of that.” Emily groaned, which had you rolling your eyes as you were heading over to sit yourself on your best friend’s lap.

“It’s not a big deal.” You protested her dramatics while your body was leaning into Spencer’s chest, your body snuggling closer to his as the show began at its scheduled time. However instead of enjoying the programme, you were too busy ignoring all the curious stares from your friends. “Come on!” You huffed while pushing yourself to sit up. “What is the big deal? You’re all staring like we are animals in a zoo.” In all honesty, you were annoyed with the way people stared. You were friends, doing platonic things.

“Look. Kid, I hate to say it but you two are definitely a little too close for what friends should be. What kind of friends do you know that kiss each other? And yes, I know, they are pecks. I’m just saying.” Derek put his hands up as he broke the silence.

“It’s not a crime to have a crush on one another or to date one another.” JJ added soon after while letting her shoulders shrug. “We aren’t dating though.” Spencer confirmed everything you’ve been preaching while looking at the group in confusion. “Spencer, you haven’t eaten any snacks tonight because all of our hands have been in the bowl. It makes no sense to me that you’d kiss her considering the mouth has like a bajillion germs.” Penelope added.

“Well, the mouth has over a billion different germs and we don’t know the exact amount.” He corrected as he looked up at you for help. “I assumed we were normal?” He spoke up while you nodded in agreement. “I thought we were, too.” You huffed while leaning against his chest.

“It’s not even the hugging, kissing, and lap sitting. You guys just look so head over heels from an outside perspective. I mean, you hang out together all the time, you always room together, plus you guys go out on dates. You may not look at it that way but come on. You are both profilers. How do you not pick up on how you feel about one another?” Emily asked while frowning softly.

The more they were talking and giving actual points, the more you were thinking over the course of your friendship with Spencer. You’d always been close, even after your first initial meeting when you joined the team. You could remember how shocked the team was because the typically quiet and socially awkward genius was the first one to welcome you. You’d managed to become close friends over the course of two weeks. The first time Spencer even hugged you was after a case where he’d been put in harm's way. He came to you for comfort. You.

The first time you started your pecks on the lips, it was due to a complete accident when you tried to kiss his cheek but his head turned to face you. It just seemed.. Right. No matter how flustered you both were or how you felt butterflies in your belly, you just dismissed it. You being lost in thought was concerning enough for Spencer. “Hey. Do you wanna step outside?” His voice pulled you out of your thoughts, your head nodding. “Yeah, please head out with me.”

He helped you to your feet before his hand was gently holding yours, leading you out of the room.

“How much do you wanna bet that they are gonna actually kiss out there?” Aaron spoke up after being silent a majority of the night, the team turning to the unit chief who normally wouldn’t have inserted himself. “I’ll take those odds,” Derek smirked while getting his wallet.

Out in the hallway, you had your arms crossed as you looked away from Spencer. “I know that we are best friends and I promise you’ve done absolutely nothing wrong. I just really want you to tell me one thing,” You spoke while turning your head back to face him. “Did you ever, at any point, have feelings for me? Be honest.”

The words had Spencer’s face bright red, his hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, I’ve always thought you were amazing.” He spoke while offering a shy smile. “I just didn’t want things to get weird. I like our friendship and the relationship that we have isn’t something that could be ruined. Dating friends can get messy and.. I don’t wanna live a life without you in it. I can’t even fathom a reality where you aren’t here.” He responded.

“So you did?”

“Y-yeah. I just didn’t want-”

Your hands were gripping his upper arms while you were gently shaking him. “Why didn’t you say anything?!” You asked while staring at him with wide eyes. “I’ve always been fond of you!” You added, his surprised look making you laugh softly. “God. How are we profilers?”

“You know, I’m not so sure. I think we are rusty.” Spencer responded, a little chuckle leaving his lips. “So.. Is there a chance? You know.. Us?” He asked softly while you nodded. “I do think there’s a good chance.” You responded while Spencer sighed in relief. “So it won’t be weird if I do this.”

“Do what?”

His hands were gently cupping your cheeks, taking every opportunity to press his lips against yours, much different than you were both used to but it carried the same feeling as all the little pecks have all this time. It was right. Like you were meant to be together.

“I’m pretty sure they are running bets. Do we tell them we kissed or pretend like nothing happened?”

“I want Derek to lose his money in that scenario, so let’s not tell them yet.” Spencer chuckled.

[ithebookhoarder]

Hi! I’m not sure if you’re still taking requests for criminal minds but if you are could you do the BAU react to their so being a paramedic/firefighter? :))

If you decide to write this thank you in advance

(BAU Headcanons) If their S.O. was a paramedic/firefighter 🚨

A/N: You're very welcome! Here you are my angel. I'm always taking requests but I can't promise how long I'll take to reply and finish them 😅 Hope this is worth the wait. Also - major shout out to any first responders out there. You are literal superheroes! 💕

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, mentions of mental health, alcohol references, sexual references, references to death. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

Aaron would be honestly so in awe of you and what you do for a living. He’d also appreciate having a partner who understands what it’s like to have a job with unpredictable hours, such high stakes, and requires risking yourself to save people. 

As such, he would know how important it is to prioritise time together for the two of you. It’s why he is so active with forming a family calendar as he knows that, if it isn’t written in ink, you may never find an opportunity to do something. 

He is all about creating concrete plans for you both, so you have something to look forward to and actually have a chance of being able to arrange it, even if it’s months in advance. It doesn’t matter if it’s Jack’s soccer game, going for a jog in the park together, or a week-long vacation. 

However, he’s learned to be far more flexible if plans don’t work out the way you’d hoped. He’s had virtual Thanksgivings with you over the phone, a boxing-day Christmas, and even turned running errands on a day off into a date-day. 

We know Aaron would honestly hate knowing how much danger you’re in sometimes at work but he also knows he has no leg to stand on given his job and what he does every day. So, you both agree to let the other one know at least once a day that you’re ok, even if only by text. 

You’d have to agree to a ‘no work at home’ policy for you both to even stand a chance of relaxing at home and focusing on Jack (who thinks he has the coolest parents ever! Like, two superheroes for parents? He’s the luckiest kid in the world). 

Aaron would be such a proud partner too, even if he doesn’t always say it out loud. He shows it in his face every time he and Jack come to visit you at work, or when he displays a picture of you receiving an award on his desk for everyone to see. 

He even helps Jack when he asks to go as you for Halloween one year - the sight of which made you cry so hard you couldn’t even speak for a good hour after. Instead, you snap a picture and carry it with you everywhere when you leave the house, and even stick a copy in your locker. 

He’d have notifications set too, tracking incidents in your area so he knows when you may be working or out on a job. He’s also not above pulling the ‘FBI’ card if he even hears of someone making your life hard at work. 

He’d also be the biggest hypocrite, always worried you’re not getting enough sleep or eating enough, despite him running on no sleep and three expressos. 

He’d also be the first to rip into you if he found out you’d taken some unnecessary risk whilst out on a call. 

“I have enough worrying about my own idiots over here without worrying about you doing something stupid too. Please, you need to be more careful, ok? I can’t and won’t lose you. Not like that.”

David Rossi 

Rossi has lost many people over the years so he would definitely be terrified of losing you, and getting hurt. However, he knows what it’s like to have a passion for helping people and he’d never stop you from doing what you love and making a difference.

Besides with his crazy schedule he doesn’t mind having a partner who is mostly out working, or also operates on a crazy schedule. It’s almost complimentary, and allows you both not to miss each other too badly when you’re busy. 

Rossi strikes me as a supportive partner in his own ways. For instance, he would make massive donations to fundraisers for your department and for causes supported by your work. He wouldn’t even tell you most of the time, leaving you to work out where the mystery million dollars came from overnight after you just so happened to mention it to him over dinner. 

Speaking of dinner, he’d be keen to invite your colleagues over to his place for social functions, offering to hosts BBQs and family dinners. He’d also invite his BAU family too, knowing how nice it is for your worlds to mix and for people to relax amongst people who get what it’s like to deal with difficult issues. 

He also makes homemade dinners at least once a week, cooking enough so that you both have leftovers to take to work for the next few days. 

He’s also keen to share any recipes he can with you, so you know how to make them when you’re on shift for hours on end. 

“Just because you’re busy saving lives doesn’t mean someone shouldn’t take care of you too!”

This man would also make sure to call you whenever he gets a chance, especially if he is away on a case. He likes hearing your voice and makes sure to ask all about your day so far, knowing its good for both of you to touch base. 

Derek Morgan

This man would be the biggest supporter and cheerleader. Like, you know your pictures are all over his desk and he’s always bragging about how you saved someone’s life whenever he gets a chance. 

“Oh yeah, that’s my baby. They’re a literal superhero. They’re badass.”

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t worry about you when you’re away working or if he sees some major incident on the news. He’ll be refreshing his phone over and over until he sees a text from you telling him you’re ok. 

You know he will also be begging Penelope to see what she can find out too, through any means necessary (Hotch doesn’t exactly have to know about it…)

You bet your ass that if he does hear you’re hurt or if something is wrong then he will be bolting his way down to the ER or wherever you are the minute he is able to. Penelope would likely be one step ahead of him if he was unable to be there right away taking care of you until he can.

Morgan is such a good care giver too. He knows how hard it is to take care of others if you don’t take care of yourself so is King of supporting healthy habits. I’m talking meal plans so you eat right, proper sleeping habits when you can make them work, and getting out of your apartment on your days off.

He’s all for vegging on the sofa sometimes but he’s keen to support you where he can and remind you there’s a world outside of work and your home. 

He would be the kind of partner who would suggest doing things together as a couple, whether it’s a daily jog in the park or even training for some kind of race. This gives the two of you a shared goal and also shared time together - including in the shower once you get home. 

“What? It’s twice as fast this way and costs half the water bill, sweetheart.”

Also, you know this man gives the world’s best massages and he would be only too willing to give you one when you get home. He’d even try and wait up for you if he could, although you’ve come home more than once to find him passed out on the sofa. 

Emily Prentiss

With her track record of trusting and being betrayed by people I think Emily would be extremely anxious about having a first responder for a partner, even if she would also be totally amazed by you and thinks you’re so badass. 

Like, you can’t tell me she wouldn’t be beaming ear to ear if you ever came to visit the BAU. She would be showing you off to everyone and anyone, giving them all a face to put to the name she’s been talking about for weeks. 

“Babe, you’re amazing. You’re literally saving lives every day. All I did yesterday was fill out a stack of paperwork as big as my arm.” (She ignores the disapproving look Hotch shoots her for that comment…)

It’s just that she’s scared about losing you and it would take you both a while to work out how to make your relationship work and communicate effectively with one another about your fears. I mean, it’s not like you aren’t as equally worried about her but it takes a while for you both to accept that it’s a part of your relationship and that neither of you are willing to give your jobs or each other up. 

When she’s away on a case, or if you’re working overnight, then she won’t be able to sleep unless she sees she has a text from you telling her you’re ok and still in one piece. Of course, she prefers to be able to call if she can but knows it isn’t always possible for both of you if you’re in the middle of a shift. 

She’s a safe space so wouldn’t take it personally when you get home and have fatigue, adrenaline dumps, or just lack any potential excitement or energy for plans you made in advance. 

She’ll meet you where you are, whether it’s cancelling plans and staying in, or going out anyway because you need a distraction. As long as she’s with you then she’s happy and it isn’t like she doesn’t do the same thing after a really bad case. 

Also, we know that you’re the only one she trusts to look after Sergio when she isn’t there, knowing you will be better having someone to cuddle, feed, and look after when you’re not on shift. You become Penelope’s version of Sergio too, as Emily instructs their tech analyst to keep an eye on you both when she can’t. 

She’d be keen to spoil you from time to time and indulges on takeout, trips to the movies, and wants to take you to as many amazing places on holiday as she possibly can. She knows it’s good to travel and to have a complete break from your daily routine. Plus, she knows so many people and so many languages that you’re spoilt on choices of where to stay next. 

JJ

I honestly feel like JJ would struggle having a first responder for a partner. She’d be such a Momma Bear that its both wonderful and intimidating.  Like, we know she and Will worked it out eventually with him being a cop, but the fear of losing you would be a big issue for the two of you for a while. As would be navigating how you both deal with the other’s feelings after a bad day on the job. It takes some trial and error before you get into the swing of things. 

For example, she would give the best pep talks and would also know just what to say after a bad day. 

“You did everything you could, sweetheart. I am so proud of you and you saved so many lives today. You may not have been able to save that one, but they knew you tried. They knew you were there and that you cared. That’s all we can ask for in the end. You are amazing and I’ve got you.” 

When you’re both home together, or if you’ve told her you’re having a rough shift, then bath times are a must. She normally has one run, with candles lit, by the time you get in the door. She is also keen to crack open a bottle of wine, or whatever you drink you want, to help you both relax as you lie together in the warm, soapy water and just forget everything for a little while. 

She’d also insist on you both leaving voice messages for the other when you were away, so you could wish the other a ‘goodnight’. It’s comforting to her but she also likes being able to share them with Henry too. 

Speaking of phones, this ex-media liaison would have so many alerts set up and contacts to call if she even suspects you may be out on a major incident. It’s honestly kind of mind-blowing how quickly she managed to get on the phone with your superior, after hearing you could be out on a job that had gone awry. She was in a different state at the time but wouldn’t hang up until they told her what had happened, where you were, and if you were alright. 

She’s also keen to support you in a practical sense, so offers to do loads of laundry for you between shifts and also cleans the house as a way of making sure you have a nice home to come back to. You’d be sure to return the favour when you could, but she likes doing it and being able to show her appreciation for you in such a basic but important way.

JJ would be way more relaxed leaving Henry with you if she’s away, knowing your training makes you like the best possible babysitter ever. 

That, and you cannot tell me that Henry would not worship the ground you walk on. After finding out what you do for work, that little angel would make siren noises whenever you’re in the car together - something you’re keen to encourage as “everyone knows the best part of the job is turning the siren on, JJ. Duh.”

Luke Alvez

Luke would be so proud and so scared for you sometimes, being a first responder. 

Luke would understand that you both have super stressful jobs so is keen to suggest a ’leave work at the door’ policy unless one of you really wants to share. He knows sometimes all he wants to do after a challenging case is walk in the door and face-plant on the sofa and he’d be a hypocrite if he didn’t let you do the same… that doesn’t mean he won’t reach over and gently pull of your boots for you, and leave a glass of something on the coffee table for when you feel like it.  

He is also a firm believer that Roxie cures everything, so would be only too happy to leave her with you when he’s out of town, so you can have all the cuddles and playtime you want. 

He also walks her by your work if he gets time so you can come out and sneak a cuddle if you’re not too busy or on a job. Roxie is now your work’s unofficial therapy dog and she loves her role - and the added attention very much. (And you best know she has her own little version of your uniform too).

I feel like he’s the kind of guy who would wake up with you if you have an early start, even if he doesn’t, just so he can cook breakfast and make you coffee in your favourite to-go mug. 

“You deserve to start your day in the right way, so go and enjoy your shower, baby, and it’ll be ready for you when you come out.”

He’d also leave you stupid little love notes in your bag too, knowing they make you smile when you find them later on. You also like to keep them and stick them in your locker for luck, and normally have one tucked in your pocket too. 

He’d also recommend different kinds of music for you to listen to on shift, making you playlists you can share and add to when you’re not together. It’s got so bad your co-workers refuse to let you have the aux when you’re driving around anymore as your choices are so varied they get whiplash. 

Luke also loves getting involved wherever he can, whether it’s donating time to help organise a fundraiser, bringing pizza by work, or going with you as a date to any formal events you’re invited to. He scrubs up niceeee and he loves seeing you all dressed up formal too. 

Penelope Garcia 

Penelope would worship the ground you walk on and frets about you like she frets about all her BAU babies when they’re out on a case - but WORSE.

So she does what she does best and compensates with love and kindness. She takes care of the people she loves and you would know that better than anyone. This queen would totally make you care packages and would make sure you had them delivered when you’re on shift. 

“You spend all your time taking care of other people, my real life knight in shining armour. The least I can do is make sure you have some fluffy socks, face masks, and other basic pamper essentials to take care of yourself! Oh, and don’t forget the protein shake I made for you! And stay hydrated! And be safe!”

She’d make sure to send gifts for your co-workers too. It’s why she’s the favourite spouse of all your colleagues and she’s greeted like the queen she is whenever she visits. 

Her cookies have earned her the unofficial title of ‘Star Baker’ and you best know there have been physical fights over them whenever you’ve left them in the crew mess. In fact, your boss has had to give you all warnings about it as a result, calling ‘dibs’ on them if you couldn’t all be trusted to share. 

She would also give you one of her many mascots for the dashboard of your rig, knowing that the little bobblehead or whatever will remind you of her when you’re out on a call. 

Speaking of calls, you know she is tuned in to all scanners / messaging systems so knows exactly where you are at all times, but especially if there is a call out. You best believe she is making sure you’re ok and has her eyes and ears open if you need help of any kind or back-up. 

As a result, you know she has been scolded more than once by Hotch and by the local authorities for interfering and hijacking calls when she thinks you’re being ignored or need assistance. 

Penelope would also be the first person to encourage you to attend some kind of support group, or seek out some kind of therapy, to help deal with all the stressful and traumatic things you deal with on a day to day basis. She would be only too happy to help you find one and would drive you there and back when she’s able. She’d even come along if you wanted her to. 

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer would be an incredibly proud partner and you know it. He would show his support in various different ways and would absolutely take any and all opportunities to remind people he’s dating a superhero (especially Morgan). He doesn’t understand why someone as amazing as you would choose to date someone like him. 

He would like giving you book recommendations so you always have something to read on shift. He’d give you his copies to borrow, so you can enjoy his pencil notes in the margins when he’s not with you. 

Not only that, but he’d also be happy to take recommendations from you too - no matter how different they may be from his usual reading material. That way you can both compare notes when you both get home and leave work behind for a moment.  

Also, you know Spence would be a fountain of knowledge about your job and has probably read up on anything he didn’t already know about your field. There isn’t a piece of jargon or code that he doesn’t know and he loves trying to use it when talking to your colleagues when he visits sometimes. It earns him their respect, which you know he would be nervous about, as your co-workers are like your second family. He’s that way with the BAU and he wants to impress the people who mean the most to you. 

His thirst for knowledge means he is always willing to let you practise different exercises on him and is keen to learn whatever you’re willing to tell him (something that has come in handy on many of his own cases). 

In return, he would like sharing whatever statistics he has memorised about the work you do. It’s also why he is so concerned about you, knowing how much your role takes out of you. His job is tiring and traumatic enough, but he is at least part of a big team and works only one case at a time. 

“I’m just saying sweetheart, it’s estimated that 30% of first responders develop behavioral health conditions including, but not limited to, depression and PTSD, as compared with 20% in the general population. If you ever want to talk to me or someone else, like a professional, then you know that’s ok.”

As much as he isn’t an overly affectionate person, I feel like he’d be the kind of person to buy you both those bracelets that you can tap and it sends a pulse to the other, letting them know you thought about them. It’s like a virtual tap on the shoulder just to let you both know they’ve got you and love you. 

He’d also drive the doctors insane if you ever got hurt on the job, yelling at them to double check their diagnosis if he even thinks you’re not getting the best treatment and care possible. 

He’d also insist on taking care of you during your recovery, not trusting anyone else to do it right - and he also has Dr Who primed for your entertainment. What could be better than that?

Masterlist

[miniversse]

⭑ “snowbound” ⭑ pt. 1

╰┈➤ OTHER PARTS

⭑ bang chan x female reader

⭑ content includes: drinking, fwb relationship, mentions of sex, non-idol chan, non-idol reader, established relationship, work relationship, drunk confessions, lots of inner talk

⭑ note: i won’t advise you to skip the build up! i’m planning to create a very small series for this idea i had, probably another part or two. lmk what you think!

⭑ minors dni

⭑——————————————————⭑

your hands are wrapped around his hard chest, and your legs were squeezed up to keep you warm from the winter mornings. before your mind could think of what breakfast to make today or what chans schedule will look like, you’re struck with memories of yesterday night, and that you and chan are no longer friends with benefits…

you progressed from taking shots to consuming full soju bottles, you lined them up with his like trophies and admired the late night snowfall. you and chan met through work, and visit after visit, kiss after kiss, you became each-others stress relievers, and you wouldn’t complain about that until yesterday night.

“have you hooked up with anyone else at work?”

the question has been waiting at the tip of your tongue, and the only thing holding you back from asking it was to be respectful and not invasive, but when your on your 3rd bottle of soju, what’s holding you back?

“nope. why do you ask?”

“oh, i was just wondering, ‘yknow”

“yeah, i never got time to meet anyone outside our office block so it’s just been you”

you nod and rest your lips on the mouth of the soju bottle. you sat close to him on his balcony, admiring the light snowfall that coated the city with white and shiny flakes. this moment reminded you of why you loved chris, it wasn’t really for his sex, it was the way his presence filled you with warmth and the desire to always be next to him. you knew you shouldn’t develop feelings because it doesn’t seem mutual, but your lives were harsh. work was demanding and you only got a few hours between each-other to empty your tension.

fuck it

you turn your gaze to him and watch his adam’s apple move with his hearty chugs.

“chris, you think it’s ok if i talk to you ‘bout something?”

“don’t you wanna wait till your sober?”

“yea but, i’ve had this thought for far too long, and i think this way would be easier for me to confess”

he turns his chair to face you and faces forward, giving you his full attention.

“whats up”

you began to feel nervous, and maybe began regretting this empty confidence you shone on him, but you and chan have seen a lot in your lives, so it wouldn’t hurt to see more.

“i’ve been seeing you in a different lens, not one where we get to fuck and call it a day. one where we are together through thick and thin.”

his expression remains the same and he keeps quiet, expecting to hear more.

“i know that it would be a big jump for us, but it could be a better jump.”

you place the soju bottle on your lips and get past a few sips before your stomach begins to turn and twist and your fingers tremble.

he sighs and leans back in the chair, placing his hands in his pockets. you began to look around for your belongings, preparing to be kicked out of his house.

“i brought you over to tell you that i wanted you for more than your body, but i guess it’s useless now”

you’re muscles relaxed, and you felt warmer at his reassurance. you couldn’t help but give him a big smile, trying to keep your cool. he smiled back, the cold smoke sneaking out the creases of his mouth.

“well, i guess that’s out the way.” you laugh, trying to fill in the silence. you haven’t noticed the increasing intensity of the snowfall, so you grab the bottles, ashtray and head inside to lay by chans fireplace.

he settled for a warm shower, but you settled to lying down on his heated hardwood floors, watching the fire dance and crackle as it soothed your bones. chan had given you one of his hoodies to change into to keep warm. the door of his bedroom creeks open, and he walks out in an black t-shirt, plaid pants and socks.

“you’re gonna freeze to death like that! and you haven’t dried your hair?”

he approaches you and lies down next to you, meeting you at eye level. you couldn’t describe how this moment felt. the orange flames casted on his smooth, relaxed face. his hand was placed over yours, his fingers tracing around yours. your body was physically there, but mentally, you and chan were bound, or rather, snowbound.

“i’m fine babe”

you’re brought back to life with three words that left his lonely mouth.

“babe? i never thought i’d hear you call me that”

“and i never thought i’d be laying down next to you by the fireplace, exchanging looks”

you wiggle closer to him, taking in the soft smell of his shampoo being overridden with his strong cologne. your lips follow the scent, and end up landing on his warm neck. he raises his head, giving you more to work with. his hand was settled on your back, bringing you closer and closer till you could feel the heat of his body against yours.

your mouth seemed to be the star of the show now, but that might change.

⭑ PART 2

[weirdkpopgirl]

Jealousy | Dream Reaction #9

Reaction: When they get jealous of their gf being close with another member Genre: Fluff, comedy, a little angst if you squint Warnings: quite a few repeated words lol Word Count: 3829k Author's Note: Gosh, it feels nice to post something for NCT Dream as a whole after a while. Initially, I wasn't crazy about the idea of writing a scenario where the members get jealous. But it was fun to write, I tried to make them realistic to the member's personalities. Hope you guys enjoy it. Thank you for reading ^ - ^

~ ~ ~

MARK

The longer he went without seeing you, the restlessness within him grew. His schedule had been all over the place, leaving him with scarcely any breaks in between. Despite his love for his career and his unwavering dedication to giving his all, he couldn't help but wish that it didn't take such a toll on your relationship. Even if you never complained about the months of being apart, only communicating through text messages, and maybe a phone call if he was lucky, Mark still carried a sense of guilt for not being able to give you the time you truly deserved.

So when you dropped by his group’s photoshoot (after he indirectly implied that you come to visit him), he was beyond excited. Unfortunately, you came when it was his turn to take photos. Luckily, Chenle who was supposed to go after him, greeted you warmly.

"Oh, (Y/n)! What brings you here?" he exclaimed. The corner of your lips upturned into a smile when you caught the way the boy’s eyes lit up with excitement upon seeing a visitor on the set.

"It's been quite some time since Mark and I last saw each other," you explained. "He actually called me this morning, and I thought it wouldn't hurt to come by for an hour or so." 

A teasing glint flashed across the boy’s eyes as he playfully nudged you. “Aw, you guys are so in love. Mark hyung hasn’t stopped complaining to us about how much he’s been missing you.”

Chenle's remark caused a faint shade of pink to tint your cheeks. 

“Hm, I’m sure you’re just exaggerating,” You replied with a nudge back. 

Mark frowned when he noticed Chenle talking to you. He was too far away to hear the conversation. But his stomach churned in unease when he observed you laughing at something the boy said. 

"Mark-ssi, please stay focused," the camera director called out, effectively snapping him out of his momentary daze. 

A sheepish smile spread across his face, displaying his embarrassment for getting distracted. He quickly redirected his attention back to the camera. Every so often he would steal glances at you and Chenle, resulting in having to redo some of the photos. Frustration began to build within Mark as impatience washed over him.

It felt like an eternity before he finally finished, and as soon as he was done, he walked across the room. You were caught by surprise when the boy engulfed you in a much-needed hug.

"Hello to you too?" you laughed, gently patting his back. Chenle and you exchanged amused glances before he excused himself to prepare for his photoshoot.

Mark pulled away slightly, allowing himself to get a better look at you. His eyes carefully scanned for any discernible changes within the past few months.

“I missed you so much,” He murmured, tenderly caressing your hand. 

Your heart fluttered with affection as your hand moved to cup the side of his face. "I know. Chenle was telling me," you whispered.

His eyes widened, not expecting to hear that from you. “Oh…that’s what you two were talking about?”

You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head in confusion. But it didn't take long for you to connect the dots. “Don’t tell me you were jealous of us,” you teased, giving him a knowing look.

Mark's cheeks immediately flushed with a rosy hue at your words. "What? Me, jealous? Never—I just, uh, I thought—”

Before he could continue stammering, you interrupted by rising on the tips of your toes to wrap your arms around him once more. The height difference didn't diminish the sense of security he felt being embraced in your arms.

“You’re just too adorable, Mark Lee,” you said in an endearing tone.

The affection you showed made Mark feel stupid for feeling jealous over a harmless interaction with his member. He found himself instinctively leaning in closer to snuggle into the comfort of your shoulder. No matter how busy life got for him, Mark cherished the fact that you were the one constant he could always rely on. 

✎__________________________________________________________

RENJUN

Lately, he couldn’t help but notice the way Haechan had been acting more affectionate with you. It was the way he would casually wrap his arm around you or the playful exchanges of inside jokes that seemed to create an exclusive bond between the two of you. Of course, Renjun was happy to see the love of his life getting along with his members. He also knew you were someone who maintained clear boundaries. But it was just Lee Haechan who made him feel uneasy. 

At first, Renjun tried to brush off his concerns, knowing Haechan was clingy with anyone he was close to. But he found himself subconsciously picking at every interaction between you, letting the twinge of jealousy seep into his heart.

One sunny afternoon, the three of you plus Mark gathered at the Dream dorm to bake some brownies. But not all the necessary ingredients were readily available. So you volunteered to go on a quick trip to the grocery store, and Mark joined you.

With the two of you gone, Renjun and Haechan found themselves alone. A subtle tension lingered in the air, primarily coming from Renjun. The obliviousness displayed by his friend irked him.

Unable to contain his frustration any longer, Renjun nudged him. “Hey, aren’t you too close with (Y/n) these days?”

Haechan seemed taken aback by the boy’s accusation. But a mischievous grin was quick to appear on his face.

“What? We’re just friends,” he replied. 

The playful tone he used only caused Renjun’s irritation to grow. His fist came into contact with the counter in aggravation. “Look, just back off of her okay?”

Haechan had to suppress the urge to burst into laughter, finding it amusing how easily Renjun could be provoked. However, he never thought that witnessing Renjun's jealous side would be so entertaining. The realization only motivated him to push a few more buttons.

He raised an eyebrow in defiance. “What if I don’t want to?”

That was the last straw for Renjun, as he grabbed a fistful of flour and threw it at Haechan without thinking. Within seconds, the boy’s face and hair were covered in a cloud of white. Amused by the sudden attack, Haechan retaliated by flinging a handful of cocoa powder toward Renjun. 

The heated moment quickly turned into a full-blown food fight. Flour and sugar filled the air as egg shells were scattered across the kitchen island. Mark and you returned with wide eyes, completely bewildered by the disaster that had unfolded in their absence.

“Okay, what the hell happened here?” Mark asked, eyes darting back and forth between the two boys who were covered head to toe in flour.

Renjun locked eyes with your concerned ones, and the remnants of his anger began to dissipate. He surveyed the chaotic scene before him, feeling a pang of embarrassment. Allowing jealousy to consume him seemed trivial now as he observed the mess he made.

Feeling a mix of emotions, Renjun quietly excused himself and headed to the bathroom to clean up. Meanwhile, Mark and Haechan took the initiative to restore order in the kitchen. On the other hand, you felt the need to check on your boyfriend.

As Renjun splashed water on his face, he heard the door creak open. It was you, holding a damp towel in your hands.

“(Y/n),” he murmured, feeling a little flustered. “I’m sorry…I just lost my temper back there.”

You approached him with a soft smile, before reaching to gently wipe away a spot of flour on his neck. “I could tell. Do you mind me asking why?”

Renjun held your gaze for a few lingering seconds before releasing a sigh. “It’s just…seeing Haechan being all over you bothered me. I know it’s stupid to feel jealous because he’s my best friend and all but…the feeling got harder to ignore.”

“It’s not stupid at all,” You spoke up, carefully moving the cloth to his jaw. “I understand how you feel. But you know Haechan and I are just friends, dear.”

The sincerity in your eyes made his heart melt. “I know…”

You chuckled, finding the pout on his face to be utterly endearing. With a tender smile, you leaned in closer to gently pluck a piece of eggshell from his hair.

“Huh, you’re kinda cute when jealous.” 

Your affectionate remark caused him to blush, leaving his heart racing. Before he could respond, you closed the distance between the two of you with a reassuring kiss on his lips. 

“I only like you, Injunnie. You are the one who holds a special place in my heart,” you whispered.

He let your words sink in, feeling the weight of their meaning wash over him. The previous embarrassment melted away, replaced by a warm, comforting feeling that enveloped his being. Renjun's arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I love you so much," he whispered back, the words filled with sincerity and affection.

At that moment, as he held you close, Renjun knew with absolute certainty that he was the one who had captured your heart. All the worries and doubts that had plagued him faded away, replaced by a profound sense of contentment and assurance.

✎__________________________________________________________

JENO

The two of you were enjoying a cozy evening at his dorm, curled up together on the sofa watching an MCU movie. The room was filled with occasional commentary about what occurred on the screen, and the sound of popcorn crunching between your fingers. However, your moment of peace was soon interrupted when NCT Dream’s maknae strolled into the living room.

“Wait, are you guys watching Guardians of the Galaxy?” Jisung asked, his eyes widening with intrigue.

You nodded, gently removing yourself from Jeno's embrace, which caused a slight frown to appear on his face. "Yeah, would you like to join us?"

“Really? Is that okay?” Hesitation tinged his voice as he glanced between you and Jeno. A smile formed on your lips as you patted the open space on the couch beside you.

“Yes, of course!”

Jisung returned your smile with an appreciative one, grateful to be included. He flopped down on the couch and made himself comfortable beside you. Jeno couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy when he saw you playfully ruffle Jisung’s hair with a sense of endearment. 

As a few minutes ticked by, the playful interactions between the two of you only served to amplify the pout on Jeno’s lips. He was a little sulky because why were you giving Jisung more attention than him?

When you became engrossed in one of the action scenes of the film, Jeno took the opportunity to give Jisung a death glare. To his satisfaction, Jisung’s eyes widened at the lasers shooting from his hyung’s eyes.

"Actually, (Y/n), I just remembered that Chenle and I had plans to play a video game," Jisung abruptly excused himself, his voice slightly rushed. 

The pout on Jeno's face transformed into a smug smile as he saw Jisung dash out of the room. On the other hand, you were left feeling confused.

“Aw, he left so suddenly.”

"Well, that's unfortunate," he said, feigning disappointment. "But hey, now you have me all to yourself. You can shower me with all your affection instead."

Jeno’s sudden clingy behavior made you realize the situation. Honestly, you thought it was kind of funny seeing Jeno jealous of his younger member. Then there was the other part of you who felt bad, understanding that you inadvertently excluded him on what was supposed to be your date night.

“I’m sorry Jeno-ssi,” You cooed, leaning to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you feel left out.”

The eye smile you adored so much on him was quick to appear. He wasted no time in pulling you closer into his warm embrace. 

“It’s okay,” he murmured, resting his chin on the top of your head. “But you do owe me a few kisses to make up for it.”

You laughed at how cute he sounded at that moment. Normally, his suggestive remarks made you feel a bit shy. But tonight you let your heart take control for once. With a surge of passion, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down so your lips could lock with his

Jeno's smile widened with eagerness as he welcomed your boldness. He shifted his hand to gently rest on the back of your head, pulling you even closer as he deepened the kiss, intensifying the connection between you both. Regrettably, the movie became a distant memory as the focus shifted entirely to the passionate exchange between you. However, neither of you had any complaints about the delightful deviation from the initial plan.

✎__________________________________________________________

HAECHAN

Just as you stepped out of a literature class, Haechan sent a text that cause a smile to grace your lips. That's how you ended up sitting in SM's cafeteria with your boyfriend during his lunch break, accompanied by Jaemin, whom you had recently been introduced to. Currently, Jaemin was showing you some photos from places they traveled during the tour.

"Wow, you took all these? Do you edit them on your phone?" You gasped in awe. Your eyes filled with admiration as you gazed at a breathtaking picture of a city view.

Jaemin smiled modestly and nodded, “Yeah when I don’t have a tablet with me. I make use of whatever time I have to edit.”

Inattentively, the two of you leaned in closer, engrossed in Jaemin's demonstration of the app he used for photo editing. Unbeknownst to you, Haechan had been observing with a growing scowl on his face. Feeling a bit left out, he cleared his throat conspicuously.

“Excuse me, did you guys forget I was here?” He interjected, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at the both of you. 

Jaemin tilted his head in amusement. “Oh, is someone feeling jealous?”

"Me, jealous?" Haechan scoffed, sticking his tongue in his cheek. “Well of course, I am! Do you guys really have to sit so close?”

You stifled a laugh, finding it hilarious how Haechan didn’t even try to hide his jealousy. His transparent display of possessiveness was a side you hadn’t seen in him before.

“Hyuck…” Your voice trailed off, meeting his eyes. As if to make a point, he wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. 

“But hey, (Y/n) is mine, so I’m allowed to be a bit territorial right?” He added with a playful wink your way.

Jaemin scrunched his nose in disgust. “Okay, I get it! Gosh (Y/n), how do you put up with him?”

You couldn't help but chuckle at Haechan's possessiveness. Leaning into him a little, you silently reassured him of your affection and presence. The gesture secretly melted Haechan's heart, filling him with warmth and a sense of adoration that he couldn't help but cherish.

✎__________________________________________________________

JAEMIN

After day three of his group’s three-hour concert, Jaemin gladly accepted your offer to retreat to your apartment for some much-needed rest. There weren’t enough words to convey the sheer happiness he felt, as he finally had the opportunity to unwind and spend some quality time with someone he loved deeply.

While Jaemin was in your bathroom, taking a quick shower to freshen up, you patiently waited for him in bed. With your phone in hand, you passed the time by scrolling through social media. As Jaemin settled down beside you, you came across a Twitter post featuring a photo that a fan had taken of Jeno during the concert. 

“Wow, I never noticed how defined Jeno’s muscles are. He looks amazing,” You said without thinking.

Jaemin couldn't help but form a pout on his lips as he leaned over your shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the photo that had captured your attention. He couldn’t ignore the pang of envy that flickered inside him. 

“I have muscles too, you know,” He grumbled in a low voice.

Your head turned in his direction and laughed. It didn’t take long for your heart to melt at the sight of his sulky expression. It was hard to resist finding his pouty demeanor adorable at that moment.

Setting your phone aside, you scooted closer to Jaemin, closing any remaining distance between the two of you. You nestled your head against his steadily rising chest, finding the rhythmic movement of his heart to be calming. 

"Just because I think another guy is good-looking, it doesn't mean I like him," you whispered, wrapping your arms tenderly around his waist. "Because you're the only man I have eyes for, Na Jaemin." 

Jaemin felt his discontentment slowly dissolve as he relaxed into your warm embrace, and let the sincerity of your words sink in. You snuggled closer to him and reached one hand to stroke his bicep, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath your touch. He closed his eyes momentarily, allowing any remaining doubts to melt away.

“I’ll have you know, I thought you were very sexy tonight,” you confessed with a shy smile. 

His eyes opened again in slight surprise, as those types of compliments were rare from you. “Really?” He asked.

As you nodded, Jaemin's beautiful smile reappeared, radiating pure joy and affection. He couldn't resist leaning closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as a sweet gesture of tenderness. Not long after, he moved to capture your lips in another loving kiss, sealing the moment with a shared sense of connection and sentiment. You seriously had no idea how madly in love he was with you.

✎__________________________________________________________

CHENLE

Typically, Chenle wasn’t prone to jealousy when in a relationship. He understood the value of trust and believed wholeheartedly in the commitment he shared with you. However there were the occasional moments when his usually calm composure would crack, and a hint of possessiveness would emerge if he saw you getting close with another member.

One late night, you, Chenle, and Renjun gathered around for a steaming hot pot. Before meeting your boyfriend, you had casually listened to their group’s music and Renjun happened to catch your attention. You couldn’t help but feel captivated by his voice in songs. Although you tried not to get too ahead of yourself, your lasting impression of the singer compelled you to muster up the courage to say at least something.

“I’m sorry, I just have to say that I really admire your vocals,” you stammered. “The clarity of your voice sounds so satisfying, but I can also feel the emotions of the lyrics.”

Renjun’s face lit up with a bashful smile. “Aw, you’re too kind (Y/n)-ssi.”

Chenle silently observed the two of you, feeling a small flame ignite inside him. Usually, he’d be enthusiastic to see two people he considered to be close, getting along. Normally, he would be thrilled to witness one of his closest friends getting along so well with you. He guessed, that it was his lack of presence in the conversation that left him feeling unsettled.

“Babe, didn’t you say you liked my voice too?” 

Renjun and you glanced up, momentarily taken aback by the boy's sudden disruption. He spoke so nonchalantly. Only you two were able to detect the underlying motive of his interjection.

You slowly smiled, “I do, don’t worry. You’re still my favorite singer, Lele.”

Chenle’s expression softened as your simple words immediately affirmed him. Renjun sat back with a smile and observed the boy’s affectionate side take over. Chenle encouraged you to eat more and even picked up a piece of meat with his chopsticks to feed you.

 encouraged you to eat more, and even picked up a piece of meat with his chopsticks to feed you.

It was weird to witness his usually carefree member be so fond of someone. But Renjun felt content, understanding the immense joy you brought into Chenle’s life. He looked forward to watching the love between you two continue to blossom into something beautiful.

✎__________________________________________________________

JISUNG

His energy levels were starting to dwindle from the long hours of grueling dance practice. But when you showed up with food from his take-out place, Jisung’s spirits were instantly boosted.

Your occasional visits during their breaks had become something Jisung cherished greatly. Gathering in a circle with you and the other members on the studio floor, they would munch on the food you brought and chatter about miscellaneous subjects. Being surrounded by people who were like family to him created a warm and comforting atmosphere that Jisung held dear.

As the others were conversing, you couldn’t help but notice Mark fumbling with his chopsticks to get a perilla leaf. Without a second thought, you naturally reached out with your chopsticks to help him out and safely place the vegetable into the male’s bowl.

Jisung watched this interaction unravel before him, his brows furrowing slightly as Mark sent you a grateful smile. The ongoing perilla leaf debate that had been circulating within the community, came to his mind.

“Aw (Y/n), did you really have to help him?” He whined.

You turned in his direction with a confused expression. The other members were quickly amused by the maknae’s displeased state. Then Haechan who was sitting on the opposite side of you started to tease.

“Awww, our Jisungie is jealous,” He sang. Jisung shot his hyung a glare, feeling defensive. 

“I am not.”

“Oh really?” The elder asked before leaning over to hug you tightly. The unexpected gesture caused a warm blush to rise to your cheeks. “Then me hugging her shouldn’t be a problem, right?” Haechan challenged.

Jisung’s face also flushed a tinge of crimson, though not due to sudden shyness. “Yah, you can’t do that!”

Chenle, never one to miss an opportunity to mess with Jisung, was the next to join in on the playful banter. “Relax Jisung-ah, it’s not like you own (Y/n) or anything,” He quipped, sticking his tongue out mischievously before enveloping you in a hug as well.

Soon, you became more flustered when the other members couldn’t resist joining in on the teasing of their maknae and formed a joyful group hug around you.

You had to admit it was a little funny to see Jisung’s mildly frustrated reaction, as the member’s laughter filled the air. Also, you didn’t think you’d been hugged by this many people before. 

Deciding you had seen enough of your boyfriend’s pouty face, you reached your hand out.

“Come here, Park Jisung,” you coaxed with a gentle smile.

Jisung let out a small sigh, before moving closer to join you in the comforting embrace. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to take in the warmth of the moment. He was reminded of how much you and his hyungs meant to him. No matter how often they got on his nerves.

✎__________________________________________________________

[sykeskassie]

Leave Me Your Stardust To Remember You By; Pt. 1

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: ANGST!! No comfort in this one, but implied comfort is on the way. A/N: Inspired by one of my all time favorite songs. Truly, I got hit with the idea on my way home from work yesterday and rolled with it.

Pt. 2 Pt.3

When I turn jet black and you show off your light/ I live to let you shine

You had known Chris almost as long as you had known yourself. Where you began and he ended, no one seemed to know. So many

had told you that when he left for Korea at the tender age of thirteen not to be surprised if the two of you grew apart. It was one of the reasons that he had hesitations about leaving. But you had seen the talent he had, and the drive he possessed. So you sent your best friend off with the promise you would look after his siblings like they were your own, and that you would be with him every step of the way. 

But you can skyrocket away from me/ And never come back if you find another galaxy

It would be years before you got to see him in person again. He was busy with training, and school, and everything in between. However, your love for each other never wavered. You spoke on the phone as often as you could both make time, battling the time zones and the day to day. You never went more than a day without emailing each other, and later on, texting. You made it a point to let him know he wasn’t forgotten, no matter how many miles separated you.

Just leave me your stardust to remember you by

You would sometimes wonder if you would outgrow each other, the way you had outgrown the hoodie he had gifted you when he left. “To make sure you don’t forget me,” he had said, as if that was even a possibility. He was the star in your sky, shining as brilliantly as his smile did. But you never did outgrow him, and he always made sure to send you a new hoodie every year, on the anniversary of his leaving. 

If you’ll be my boat, I’ll be your sea/ A depth of pure blue just to probe curiosity 

As you grew, your love did too. It shifted, and morphed, until it took on an entirely new form. You were still best friends, seemingly the closest to ever exist; you thought that would never change. However, your love shifted from an endless blue to a swirling purple. Suddenly all the ‘I love you’s exchanged held a different weight. Without any warning, you were in love with Chris. When you told him after hours, days, weeks of contemplation, he had the audacity to tell you that he had known. “I didn’t think it needed saying, because it was just a fact. You’re in love with me, and I’m in love with you. Not even oceans could stop that from happening.” You no longer had to hold onto that childlike question of who your Prince Charming was; you had known him all along. 

Ebbing and flowing and pushed by a breeze/ I live to make you free

It turned out that loving Chris in a different way was easy. What was not easy was realizing how much you ached to have him by your side again. You made the effort to see him as often as you could; you had piles of airline miles between the two of you. You had met all of the kids, something that thrilled you since you had been a sounding board when he was handpicking them. They had become such an instrumental part in your life. They would constantly text you, or call you when they got the chance. If Chris was ‘dad’, you were ‘mom’, despite the distance. When Chris would hole up in the studio and go hours without moving, they would call you to get him moving. When he would get too far into his head, it was you they texted to bring him back to them. No one knew him better than you did. 

But you can set sail to the west if you want to/ And past the horizon, ‘til I can’t even see you

As Stray Kids got bigger and bigger, the opportunities for visiting got smaller and smaller. Dates would be arranged, tickets would be booked, and then something would have to be moved around. Schedules would shift, tour dates would get added on, extra promotions would pop up seemingly out of nowhere. It had seemed like such a slow progression —you were used to having to adjust to his schedule, as you had been for years— that you both hadn’t realized how much time had passed until you didn’t get your yearly hoodie. It was tradition to call every year on the anniversary of his leaving, and you hadn’t missed one yet. You could explain away the missing hoodie (perhaps the postal service was running behind this year? Maybe the package had gotten lost?), but to have missed calls and radio silence? You couldn’t come up with an excuse for that. You opened up your text thread to see the stack of unanswered messages from you, scrolling to find the occasional text from Chris that seemed to always be an apology for not being available. With an ‘I love you’ sent off, you closed your phone and tried to pretend that a crack hadn’t formed in the foundation of your relationship. 

Far from here where the beaches are wide/ Just leave me your wake to remember you by

You never did mention the hoodie that had never got sent, and neither did Chris. You couldn’t say if he was avoiding it the way you were, or if he genuinely didn’t remember. Honestly, you weren’t sure which would hurt worse and you didn’t really want to find out. He eventually called you back, apologizing again for not being able to pick up when you had called…and called…and called. “We were working on the song for the new comeback, and you know how the kids get when we get really into it. I noticed you had called a few times, is everything okay?” You played it off like you just missed his voice. Something fundamental had changed between you two, and you weren’t really sure why you couldn’t address it. Maybe it was the fear that acknowledging it would make it real. He assured you that once the comeback came out and promotions were done, there would be more time for each other. He even told you that one of the songs he had written for you. Ironically, he said it was “to make sure you don’t forget me”, and you had to bite your tongue from saying that it wasn’t you who was likely to forget about him. 

When I turn jet black and you show off your light/ I live to let you shine

Eventually, you found out where you began and where Chris ended. It started the day you had gathered every hoodie he had ever given you. You held each one to you before folding it up, tucking the sorrow and emptiness you felt in each fold of the cloth. They had long stopped smelling like him, but if you tried hard enough you could still remember it. You started from the last you ever got, and ended with the one that seemed so small now. It was over a decade old at this point and you could hardly believe that either of you ever fit into it. As you set them all in a box, you grabbed your phone. You typed out a message in the group chat that had seen less and less of all of you in the last months, letting the kids know to take care of themselves, take care of their leader, and that you would be cheering them on always. Before anyone could respond, you left the group chat, blocked all their numbers, and set about finding a pen and paper. On top of the hoodie that signified the beginning and the end, you left a goodbye for the love of your life. 

But you can skyrocket away from me

And never come back if you find another galaxy

Far from here with more room to fly

Just leave me your stardust to remember you by

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 33

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Reader finally moves to Detroit with Marshall and gets used to living with him and getting to know him even better. She is on cloud nine... Until she learns she's going to meet someone special.

Tags : Fluff - Smut - Bit of angst

Author's Note : I hope you enjoy the chapter ❤️

Y/N’s POV 

After you finally landed in Detroit, you spent almost two days sleeping, trying to fight the jetlag. Marshall seemed to be dealing with it pretty well, probably because he was so used to traveling. You, on the other hand, were really suffering from it and it wasn’t only affecting your sleep schedule, on the rare occasions you were awake, you also had trouble focusing, which did not help you get reacquainted with the house. You didn’t think you would have much trouble settling in, since you had spent so much time there before moving back to Paris, but actually moving in with your boyfriend was a bit different : you had to learn where everything was located and you got familiar with Marshall’s quirky ways, like how he organized the pantry and his weird tidying up habits, that were really different from yours. Also, you hadn’t really thought about the fact that you might feel ill-at-ease in the house, but it was definitely the case. Your boyfriend was incredibly welcoming and made a point of saying that it was your house too, but it didn’t feel like it. Every piece of furniture reminded you of the fact that he had lived there for about twenty years and had lived a full life in it before you were in the picture. You weren’t jealous per se, but it felt weird, like you were starting from scratch and he was already on level 20. So far, the corner you managed to claim as yours was the bedroom, probably because you spent so much time sleeping and fighting off jet lag. On the third day, though, you managed to wake up at a decent time and found Marshall training in the home gym. The sight of him bare chested and all sweaty doing some push ups was definitely a nice way to start your day. 

Hey sleeping beauty, he said as he got up to kiss you. Didn’t expect to see you awake until a couple of hours at least. 

I think I’m starting to run on american time again, you giggled. You know, if I had known I’d see this in the morning, I would have fought the jet lag harder… 

Just got back to it today, he chuckled. Gotta start training back, after all that pasta in Italy. You don’t want me to get all chubby, now, do you ? 

I wouldn’t mind, you said as you ran your hand over his stomach. The more of you the better. 

How about you help me shower ? He asked with a smirk. You’ll get to see more of me. 

Are you really propositioning me this early in the morning, Marshall ? 

Haven’t seen much of you for three days, you know, he chuckled. 

Now I wonder how you managed for six months, you giggled. 

Not going to lie, it was hard. Pun intended. Are you coming or what ? 

Actually, your man having his way with you in every room and against every single piece of furniture did a great job helping you feel at home in the house. In the following days, you spent a lot of time doing each other but not getting much else done. After a while, though, you decided to finally unpack the few things you had taken with you. To be fair, it wouldn’t take too long and your things would not take much space either, seeing as you only had the bare essentials. You might as well start a blog on minimalism, at this rate. At least, you wouldn’t spend too much time choosing what to wear, your options being somewhat limited. 

Last chance to reconsider this whole me moving in thing, you said playfully as you opened your suitcase. 

Not a chance, he chuckled before kissing your cheek. 

Do you think you can spare a drawer in your closet for my stuff ? You asked. 

No need, he shrugged. You can have a whole closet. The house came with his and hers. 

Fancy, you giggled. Although, I would have thought your centipede ass would have taken over the second one for your sneakers… 

I did, he chuckled. But I freed up the space the day after we arrived, while you were sleeping like a baby. 

You’re the best. Although we can definitely share the space, I literally only need a drawer, you said as you pointed to your suitcase. 

I guess you’re going to have to shop, he said with a smile. 

I will, when I have a job, you said. 

Why wait ? He asked. 

Money, you shrugged. 

He rolled his eyes and handed you his credit card. You looked at him without taking it, waiting for him to put it back in his pocket. He stared back, not moving. It was like a silent argument. He had told you before that he was intent on taking care of you in every way possible, but you had your pride and there was no way in hell that you would shop with his hard earned money. You were already moving into his giant house, coming back from an expensive holiday in Europe that he had paid for, wearing a watch and a bracelet that, combined, probably cost more than what you had made in the past year. 

Just take it, he finally said. 

Put that back, you said. I can wait. 

You barely have enough clothes to go through a washing cycle, he pointed out. 

I’ll just borrow yours, then, you playfully retorted. Or walk around naked. But I am not taking advantage of your money. 

I kind of like the idea of having you walk around the house naked, he replied with a smirk. And you know I love it when you wear my stuff. But seriously, you don’t have to be so noble. It’s no big deal. 

I’m not a kept woman. And there is no way I will act like a trophy girlfriend and have you pay for my stuff. All of this is already too much, you said as you gestured around you. 

Technically, it would benefit me too, you know ? He pointed out. I like undressing you. Let’s not underestimate the importance of wrapping paper around the present… 

And what would the ideal wrapping paper look like ? You asked. 

Lingerie, obviously, he giggled. I like the lacy stuff. Can I confess something ? 

Go ahead, you chuckled. 

You know, the black lace bodysuit you wore in the picture that leaked last year ? He asked. It drove me absolutely crazy. I deleted the picture, out of respect for you, but I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t been in a few dreams of mine. 

Oh really ? You asked playfully. Too bad I don’t have it anymore. 

You have no idea what I would do to you if I saw you wear this thing, he said. 

I’ll put it on my list, then, you said with a wink. 

Or you could buy it right now, he said as he waved his card in front of your face. As a congratulation present for the album’s success ? Or early Christmas ? And let’s not forget that Thanksgiving is just around the corner, so, really… 

You couldn’t help but giggle. He reminded you of a kid asking their parents for a new video game. He was making puppy eyes at you, batting his eyelashes and whispering “please, please, please ?”. You rolled your eyes and ended up caving in. “Fine, you said. Only lingerie, though.”, you mumbled. Without a second of hesitation, he grabbed your iPad. For someone who often played dumb when it came to technology, he was incredibly proficient. In a couple of seconds, he had ten tabs open on various lingerie websites. He had a fancy taste in lingerie and definitely had a lot of ideas on what he would like you to wear, leading you to think he had given it some thought for a while. What initially started in a search for one lacy black bodysuit ended up in Marshall adding tons of things to the cart because “shipping is an ecological disaster so you might as well make the most of it”. At some point, you were sure that there were less items in a full Victoria’s Secret fashion show and you hoped for his sake that he had invested in Agent Provocateur, because the bill was going up insanely fast, with each click. He seemed like a kid in a candy store and was absolutely unstoppable. 

Babe, I don’t think I need a bodychain that looks like a butterfly, you pointed out with a giggle. 

I like accessories, he chuckled. 

They do have beautiful things, you admitted. Like, those rose gold rope handcuffs… 

You’re into that ? He asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. 

No, you said shyly. I mean, yes, but… well… 

No need to blush, he said. I’m adding these to the cart. Just in case… Oh, look, they have a matching choker. 

When you thought you were done, once the order was placed, he started arguing that you would need at least one pair of heels to go with it, just to complete the look and you didn’t even have time to answer before he started browsing Louboutin’s website. At that point, trying to reason with him was a lost cause. Plus, if you were honest, he did have good taste. 

You realize you just spent the equivalent of the gross domestic product of some countries, simply on stuff you want to ravish me in, right ? You pointed out. 

As a businessman, I’d say it’s an investment, he said with a smirk. 

As a rational person, I’m tempted to ask how this little investment would bring some actual profit, you giggled. 

That’s actually really simple, he said. That’s an investment in our relationship, which is important to my work-life balance, hence my creativity. 

Almost a fair point, you conceded. 

Plus, I think I could base a whole album on your body and all the things I’m doing to you once we receive that package, he chuckled. So if it goes well, it might pay for our next vacation… 

I swear to God, Marshall, if I hear one reference to our sex life in a song… 

One ? He said with a grin. Babe, it’ll be at least four or five… 

I’m serious, you said sternly. 

We’ll see, he replied with a wink. 

You thoroughly enjoyed having Marshall with you while you got used to the house. It was a far cry from your fancy holidays in Europe. Of course, discovering cities, eating at restaurants and staying at luxury hotels was nice, but this felt more real, more domestic. You also liked the fact that, in spite of his obvious wealth, the house had an actual family feel to it, far from what a lot of real people showcased on Instagram or Architectural Digest videos. The place was actually lived in, filled with memories and it had a nice vibe to it. Most people probably wouldn’t expect one of the world’s most famous rappers to live in a place like this, but once you got to know Marshall, it sort of made sense. The house was secluded and located in a gated community - for obvious reasons - and it was impressive in size, for sure, but it wasn’t flashy by any means. The furniture was all about quality but unassuming, with a nice cozy feel to it, with comfortable chairs and sofas, as well as spaces designed to have people over and entertain. The perfect nook for someone who actually spent a lot of time at home. You had never thought you’d live in such a place but you were happy you ended up here. Not that it mattered too much anyway, since you were sure you could be happy anywhere as long as you had Marshall by your side. After a few days, it was time for your boyfriend to go back to work and you’d be left alone in the house for the first time. The night before, as you were laying  in bed, the two of you were talking about his upcoming projects. Now that he was no longer in album recording mode, it would change a tad from what you had witnessed. He would spend as much time « in the lab », as he put it, but he would have more people over and prioritize his work as a producer for a bit. He seemed genuinely excited to go back to work, especially since he hadn’t indulged in such a long break in almost a decade. 

Three weeks off is rare for me, he chuckled. My team almost freaked out when I told them I needed this much time off, at first. 

Why did you, by the way ? You asked. 

I figured I would need a lot of rest after the tour, he explained. It was a short one but it was intense and, since I don’t perform as much as I used to, it’s harder on the body. Plus, I was still very much heartbroken over a certain someone… 

I’m sorry, you said sheepishly. 

Don’t be. All is well in the end, right ? I got my much-needed break, I have the most amazing woman back in my arms, we got to travel together and you even moved in ! I wouldn’t have it any other way, he said as he looked at you lovingly. 

They’re going to have you back in a good mood, you giggled. 

I’m pretty sure I’ll turn back into my usual bitchy self as soon as I get back, he chuckled. Doesn’t help that we’re starting with a full day of meetings, too… 

What meetings ? You asked, feeling curious. 

Bunch of them, he shrugged. One to plan the next months ahead, review the collaboration requests we’ve got, one about potential performance dates, a meeting with a journalist for an interview… oh and another one with Tracy. 

As soon as you heard her name leave his lips, you couldn’t help but grimace, which did not escape his notice. He chuckled and kissed your forehead. Since you had gone on vacation, you hadn’t mentioned her. To be fair, you were so busy that you had momentarily forgotten about her existence - which was not the worst thing. The mere mention of her was enough to make you groan and you had to put in a lot of effort not to have a mental image of her kissing your boyfriend the very day before you got back with him. Obviously, neither she nor Marshall had medium powers so they couldn’t have planned that you’d get back together but still… it irked you. You did not want that woman anywhere near Marshall. Especially since he had told you she had confessed to hoping they would get back together. He had given her a few weeks to sort her feelings out and decide on whether or not they would keep on working together, leaving the choice up to her. Your boyfriend was definitely a class act and a gentleman. Now, you secretly hoped she would quit. A shameful feeling you would never confess to having, of course. 

Stop clenching your jaw like that, it’s bad for you, Marshall chuckled as he traced your jaw with his fingers. 

I’m not clenching, you groaned. 

You totally are, he said with a smile. You still hate her don’t you ? 

Me ? Hate her ? You asked. I don’t hate her. Do I like her ? No. Do I hope she stubs her toe on some piece of furniture every morning for the rest of her life ? Maybe. But I don’t hate her. 

You’re so petty, he chortled. It’s hilarious. 

You mean pretty, right ? 

I said what I said, he chuckled as he kissed your temple. You know you don’t have anything to worry about, though, right ? 

I know, you said. I just have to shake the feeling. It’ll pass. 

I hope so, he replied. If she keeps on working as my personal assistant, you might run into her from time to time. I don’t want it to be weird. 

I can be civil, you assured him. As long as she keeps her hands off you. 

Territorial, much ? He teased you. 

You’re mine, you said. 

Yours, he said with a nod before kissing you tenderly. 

You settled in his arms as he turned off the lights and you put a hand over his perfect chest before drifting off to sleep. When you woke up the next day, he was already gone. You found a sweet note on your nightstand, telling you to enjoy having the house to yourself and that he would come home at 5:30PM. You missed him already but decided to make the most of your first day with some intensive self care. It was Monday so Talia was at work, otherwise you would have told her to come over for a girls day. Still, being on your own wasn’t going to prevent you from pampering yourself and trying to be pretty for your man when he would come back from work. You started with a bath, taking some time to do a full body scrub, some hair care and a face mask. One of the many perks of the house was the bathroom adjacent to the master bedroom, which was basically like a home spa. You could definitely get used to this life… you were getting dressed when the doorbell rang. It felt weird answering the door, but it was your new home after all. It was actually the delivery of your package from Agent Provocateur, and it was a huge one. As soon as you got it, you brought it to your closet and started unboxing. You had always liked lingerie but so far the most expensive stuff you had ever bought was probably from Victoria’s Secret or Princess Tam Tam, as well as a few Aubade pieces (on sale). This was different. It felt insanely sexy and luxurious and, to be honest, you weren’t too sure you deserved to be wearing such garments. Still, now that all this stuff was in your closet, you might as well wear it, so you decided to try it on. You were unsure whether it was the expensive fabrics and accessories adorning your body or your extensive pampering session from earlier, but you were absolutely feeling yourself. As you examined yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but think you looked great, which was quite a feat. Ever since you had lost weight, you had had trouble appreciating your body. You had always been on the curvier side and you had learned to love your body like this. So liking a skinnier version of your body was a bit hard. Still, the lingerie worked wonders. You tried on a few pieces and wished Marshall could be there to see it, sure that he would gladly enjoy the view, rather than being stuck in meetings with Paul, Tracy and God knows who else… That's when you had an idea : you might as well show him what was waiting for him at home when he would get back. Plus, it would also serve as a reminder that he might have a personal assistant, but you were the woman who was deserving of his attention. You didn’t actually worry about him being unfaithful, you fully trusted him, but you still had your doubts about whether or not Tracy would try and flirt with him. You barely knew the woman after all. As you tried on lingerie set after lingerie set, you snapped a few pictures and ended up having a little fun photo shoot. God bless good iPhone cameras, mirrors and timers. With a bit of color editing, the pictures looked even better. You sent one to Marshall, with the caption : « Good luck for your meetings. Miss you already. Can’t wait for you to be home ❤️ ».  Within a few minutes, he answered. 

From M❤️ : Can’t wait to be home either. Better not be wearing anything else when I get back. 

You chuckled and decided to tease him a little more, with pictures of other sets. You were curious to know what his favorite one was. There were so many options, from cute and simple bras with matching panties to more intricate things with corsets or garter belts…  

From M❤️ : Got told off by Paul for not paying attention. You’re getting me in trouble… 

To M❤️ : oops. Sorry for distracting you, my love. I’ll go and put some ugly sweats right away 👀 

From M❤️ : don’t you dare. 

You giggled and carried on with your little picture-taking, sending him the best ones. He didn’t reply much, but at least you knew he enjoyed it. It was the middle of the afternoon and you were casually chilling in the bedroom, in your finest lingerie with music playing loud on a portable speaker you had found in the living room. Not too bad for a Monday. You had just taken a cute selfie and we’re trying to edit it when you felt a presence. Before you could turn and check, you felt a hand firmly grasping your waist. You let out a scream of terror before another hand covered your mouth and you heard a giggle in your ear. It was Marshall. You immediately relaxed and turned to face him. 

You scared me ! You whined. 

I yelled at you but your music was too loud, he said with a grin before turning off the speaker. 

I thought I was being attacked, for a second ! 

Babe, it’s a gated community with security and cameras everywhere, you’re safe, he chuckled. Believe me, if my paranoid ass feels safe, it is safe. 

You giggled and kissed him before checking the time on your phone. It was 3:45PM. You looked at him in disbelief. You definitely didn’t expect him home this early, not that you were going to complain. 

Aren’t you supposed to be at work ? You asked. 

Called off the last two meetings, he said with a smile. If anyone asks, I’m feeling under the weather. Couldn’t focus anyway. I wonder why that is… 

Oops, you said as you blushed a bit. Am I in trouble ? 

Depends, he chuckled. Do I get to see more pictures ? 

You really suck at negotiating, you giggled. You could ask for a runway show and all you want are lousy pics ? 

He smiled and firmly grabbed your waist to pull you in for a deep kiss. His hands wandered around your body as your tongues found each other. 

You look incredible, he complimented. Your pictures drove me crazy. 

Glad to know there’s a way to get you to get back early, you said teasingly. I’ll remember that. 

I’ll be in trouble if that happens too much, he chuckled. But please feel free to send more of these pics… 

He pulled you closer and you could feel him being rock hard through his jeans. Knowing you were the cause gave you quite the ego boost and you felt quite proud. You kissed him and ran your hands on his chest. Even when he was wearing a tee-shirt, you could see the outline of his pecs and it was enough to drive you crazy. You gently squeezed one pec and he leaned into your touch while one of his hands cupped your butt cheek. 

So… do I get my runway show ? He asked with a smirk. 

Only because I’m a good girl and I don’t want to get in trouble, you said with a wink. 

You proceeded to try on a few of the items you hadn’t tried yet. The first was a black bodysuit with a lace up back, which wasn’t showing much but was giving glamorous vibes. The second was an opulent set with black lace and dainty chains, completed with a black waspie. As soon as he saw you, Marshall’s eyes widened. His mouth was slightly agape while he was staring. 

Do you like it ? You asked with a smile. 

You’re perfect, he said. These were fucking made for you. I think that’s my favorite set right here. 

Is it ? You asked teasingly. I should take a pic, so that I can send it to you next time you’re in a meeting… so you can remember me. 

I’ll take it for you, he said with a smirk as he grabbed your phone. 

You got on the bed and posed for him as he smiled and tried to take a decent shot, trying different angles. You teased him and bit your lip while you ran your hands over your breast, gently pinching your nipples through the fabric. 

You’re so hot, he groaned. I swear I could film you… 

You can do it, you said flirtingly. 

Are you serious ? He asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Sure, why not, you nodded as you kept on stroking your breast and caressing the rest of your own body, teasing him with your eyes. 

His blue eyes were devouring you and you absolutely loved it. His look was one of pure adoration, mixed with desire. This prompted you to put on a little show for him. You sat at the edge of the bed and started touching yourself on top of the lacy underwear that was covering you. Your fingers circled your clit and you could feel just how wet you were, simply from knowing how aroused Marshall was. You kept on looking him in the eyes as you pleasured yourself. He was still holding the phone, staring at you, while his free hand was mindlessly palming his crotch. You looked at him with a devilish grin and walked to him before dropping on your knees. 

What are y-? He began asking. 

Shhhh. Just keep filming and enjoy, you said with a smirk. 

You unbuckled his belt and managed to get him out of his pants and boxers. You stroked his erection, your touch making him sigh in pleasure. Precum was already dripping from the tip and you couldn’t resist licking it, gently teasing the head of his cock with your tongue as you kept on stroking him. His hand that wasn’t holding the phone went to the back of your head, gently encouraging you to keep going and you took that as you cue to start sucking, which caused him to moan and slur a few obscenities. You weren’t sure if it was the camera pointed at you, his unusually vocal response or the lingerie that had you feeling so confident, but you loved it. You stared at him as you kept on sucking him, trying to take him in as much as you could. He started bucking his hips while praising you for taking him so well. You had a bit of a gag reflex but kept going until the tip of your nose was touching his pubes. Tears were welling in your eyes but you loved hearing him moan. It was music to your ears. His hips started thrusting faster as the hold he had on your head tightened. You weren’t sure you could keep going for long and, for the briefest of moments, you were almost scared that you were going to choke. He stopped and looked at you, phone still in hand. 

Bed. All fours. Now, he said. 

Yes sir, you giggled playfully before doing as he said. 

Hold this for me, he said as he handed you the phone so that he could shed the rest of his clothes. 

When he was completely naked, he grabbed a condom from the nightstand and put it on before taking the phone back as he pushed your thong aside and positioned himself at your entrance. You let out a gasp when he entered you and immediately started moving at a frantic pace. Unlike most of the time, he did not give you time to get used to his size but you did not really mind - you liked the roughness. His hand was firmly holding your hip, his fingers slightly digging in your skin. In this instant, you belonged to him and you were his to use as he pleased. He was pounding hard into you as you moaned his name, tears still rolling on your cheeks from trying to deepthroat a few minutes earlier. 

Fuck it, he groaned. 

You heard a “plop”, it was your phone being carelessly thrown onto the bed and bouncing God knows where. Marshall’s now free hand found your waist. He was now firmly holding you, thrusting like a piston. 

I-I’m coming, you warned. 

Yes baby, he groaned. Come for me. 

You both exploded in an orgasm at the same time and Marshall collapsed onto you, letting out a small grunt as his head hit your shoulder. You stayed in the unlikely position for a couple of minutes, taking the opportunity to catch your breath. You were panting and you could feel his strong heartbeat in your back. You buried your face in the sheets and enjoyed the warmth of his breath on your skin. 

You are fucking incredible, he said. 

You too, you said. God, that was so intense. 

Too much ? He asked. 

Just enough, you said with a smile. Perfect. You know I like it a little rough. 

You’re also a little kinky, he pointed out. 

Maybe, you admitted with a giggle. 

He placed a small kiss on your shoulder and changed position so that he could properly lay next to you. He looked at you with a soft smile and placed a strand of hair behind your ear. You couldn’t resist kissing him. 

You are so hot, he said. I swear to God, I have never, ever been more turned on by anyone. 

Really ? You grinned. 

God, the pics, actually seeing you wear this, and then filming you ?! Babe, you are… wow, he said. 

I guess I was feeling a little frisky today, you giggled. 

I’ve noticed, he said with a grin. What got into you ? 

I don’t know, you shrugged. I mean… the lingerie got me feeling all sexy and… I always wanted to try filming, so… 

Really ? He asked. 

I mean… yeah, I was curious, you admitted. What ? Do you think it’s weird ? 

No, he shrugged. Not at all. You’re just a little kinkier than I thought, I guess. Not that I’m complaining. 

I guess I am kinky, you said with a smile.

He let out a small laugh as he stretched and got rid of the condom before laying back on the bed. 

What ? You asked, worrying that he might be making fun of you. 

Nothing. It’s just kind of funny. I guess you don’t really come across as the kinky type, you know ? When I met you there was no way I would have thought you enjoyed being filmed and stuff. 

Do I look that vanilla ? 

Frankly ? Yes, he laughed. But hey, I love your kinky side too. It’s a pleasant surprise. Makes me wonder what else turns you on. I realize there’s a shit ton I don’t know about you. 

It’s true, I haven’t been too daring in bed, so far, you admitted. 

Why ? He asked. Didn’t you feel comfortable enough with me ? 

It’s not that. I guess I wasn’t in the mood for kinky stuff at that particular time ? You tried to explain. I mean, getting to sleep with you is enough for me. I enjoy vanilla sex just as much. 

He hummed in response, still staring at you. As if he was waiting for you to elaborate. 

It’s true - we’ve been pretty vanilla so far, he said. 

How about you ? You asked. Any kinks you want to tell me about ? 

Hey. We were talking about yours. Don’t change the subject, he said. 

Are you feeling uneasy ? You asked. 

Maybe a little, he admitted. 

We don’t have to have that conversation if you don’t want to, you said as you kissed his jaw. 

Oh but I do want to have it, he said. I want to know about you. Go first and maybe I’ll tell you about me, he added with a grin. 

Let’s see… I feel like that’s pretty basic you know ? I like it rough but I don’t know if it registers as a kink ? Maybe it does. I mean… I’ve never really got to take it as far as I want to, so, I don’t know, you said. I haven’t had too many partners, and I’ve never felt confident enough to try all the things I want to. 

Really ? 

Yeah. I mean, it takes a certain amount of comfort in a relationship, you said. 

I guess, he admitted. 

Plus, you know, I had my first boyfriend when I was 18, and he is the first person I ever slept with. It lasted about three years and we never tried anything crazy. Then there was Simon. We were together for a while but we didn’t explore much. It was mostly light spanking, hair-pulling, but that’s all. Then Josh, but we didn’t do much. And then… you. 

How far did you go with Josh ? 

Foreplay, you said. 

He hummed, his eyes darkening. 

What ? You asked, I answer, you said. 

That motherfucker, Marshall commented. 

You really hated him, didn’t you ? You asked. 

Hate is a strong word, he said. But yeah, I wasn’t his biggest fan. He didn’t deserve you. 

He was nice and caring, you pointed out. That’s more than a lot of dudes. 

He was kind of stupid and he put you in danger, Marshall said flatly as he referred to the salsa bar incident that had led you to the hospital. 

You know it wasn’t his fault, you said as you rolled your eyes. I think you’re being a bit jealous here. 

Maybe I am, he admitted. I must say it was not the most fun time for me, when you dated him. I was trying hard not to be all over you, and he was the one who got to kiss you, take you on dates and everything. 

You are the one who got the girl in the end, you reminded him, which caused him to smile. 

The kinky girl, he added. Let’s not get lost here… I want to know stuff. So… slept with three people and that’s it ? 

Well, no. I only dated three people before you. I did sleep with a couple more people though. Girls actually. 

Oh I didn't know you liked girls, he said surprised. 

Yeah, I’m bi. I never dated a girl though. They’re too impressive, you said with a laugh. Men are easier to get, I think. 

Have you ever had a threesome ? He asked. 

That’s on my « list » but no, never. I’d be into that, though, you admitted. Any type of threesome. Or more than that, who knows ? But yeah, I think it could be fun. And I wouldn’t want to die stupid and ignorant you know ? 

Right, he chuckled. Though I must admit that in my opinion, it’s a bit overhyped. 

You’ve had threesomes ? 

A bunch of times, yeah, he shrugged. I mean, I get a lot of opportunities on tour. I’ve had threesomes, foursomes, moresomes… 

You looked at him with curiosity. You figured that, given his age and occupation, he must have had a lot of experiences, but you didn’t really know how far he had taken it. You were kind of curious and there were a lot of questions you wanted to ask. 

Did you enjoy it ? You asked. 

I mean… Yeah, he said. That was a point in my life when I wanted to get all the pussy I could, so in that regard, that was fun. Though there’s something about the logistics. Threesomes are fine but when there’s more people or an actual orgy, there’s a lot going on at the same time so you can’t really focus, you know what I mean ? But yeah, that was exciting. I mean, I did get a lot of opportunities and propositions, a while ago. 

I bet you still do, you said. 

Not really, he chuckled. I mean, with the level of security that I have, it’s hard to get to me anyway so there’s not a lot of people who can actually proposition me, you know ? Back in the day, we were more lenient with security and letting people hang out with us after shows. But regardless, my interest in that is different. 

You’re still a regular horndog, you giggled. 

True, he said with a smile. But getting sober made a big difference when it comes to my approach to sex and intimacy in general. 

I have so many questions, you said. 

Me first, he reminded you. 

Fine, you said as you rolled your eyes. What do you want to know ? 

Mmmh… How rough do you mean, when you say you like it rough ? Marshall asked. 

I don’t know, you said. I haven’t tested a lot of things yet, so I think I’d like to push my limits and test stuff. I wouldn’t necessarily want to get punched in the face, but being shoved against a wall, the ground and roughhousing ? Yes, absolutely. 

Ok, he said with a nod as if he was making a mental note. What else ? 

Let’s see… Well I wanted to try being filmed and we did that, so I guess we can cross that off my list… 

You’d never done that before ? He asked. 

Never. 

He smiled at you with pride and his grin made you scoff. Male ego at its peak. 

I wouldn’t say I’m into exhibition, but I wouldn’t mind trying stuff in public either, you added. I think the fear of getting caught can be really exciting. Other than that there’s… uh… submission. 

Really ? He asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Yeah, you confessed shyly. I think it’s really really hot when your partner takes control. Especially of you’re the partner. 

You could feel the heat in your cheeks and you were pretty sure your face was crimson red at this point, but there was something about Marshall, his aura, his natural charisma, his voice that called to your submissive nature. It had never been the case with anyone else, only him. 

Me ? He asked with a smirk. 

Oh yeah, you admitted. When you get that deep voice… ? God… 

You got lost in your thoughts for a second. The mere idea of Marshall domineering you was turning you on. 

Keep going, he said. I want to know more. 

I think that’s it, actually, you said with a smile. I mean, I haven’t done a lot of research either. I just want to explore stuff and have fun. 

I guess we might be able to try some stuff together, if you’re up for it, he said before kissing you. 

Really ? You asked in excitement. 

Sure, he chuckled. I mean, I wouldn’t consider myself like much of a dominant, but if you wanted me to try, I might give it a go. 

Ok, you said softly. 

The idea of being able to explore sexuality and furthering your intimacy made you really happy. You had never felt so safe with any of your partners before. You trusted this man with all of your heart and soul. 

What else would you be willing to try ? You asked giddily. 

What was on the list again ? He asked. 

Hum… Threesomes ? I mean, you’ve done it before so it wouldn’t be anything new to you, you said. 

I don’t know about this one, he admitted. 

Oh, ok, you said. 

I mean, I’m not sure how I feel about sharing you, he explained. Given the right opportunity and person, it’s not a firm and definitive no, but… Yeah, I don’t know. But threesomes can be fun, for sure. 

Ok, you agreed. That makes sense. But if it were to happen, like, hypothetically, you’d rather have it be with another woman, right ? 

Absolutely, he said. I’m definitely straight and I understand that a woman might want to have two men with her but… No way I’m sharing you with another dude. Not happening. Sorry babe. 

That’s fine, you giggled. Just testing the water here. So, when you had threesomes and all, it was just girls ? 

Yep, he chuckled. My ex is bi so she would have girls over and that’s how it would happen, most of the time. 

You were in an open marriage ? You asked. 

Not really, he chuckled. Though there was so much cheating that it might as well have been an open marriage, I guess. Let’s just say I was more lenient if she hooked up with girls and especially if it could benefit me as well… 

Ok, you said with a smile. My turn, now ? 

Fire away, he said. 

Are you sure you’re straight ? You asked cockily. Like, have you ever been with a man ? 

I have, he said casually. 

Really ?! 

You were in shock. You definitely weren’t expecting that and your question was actually a joke. You didn’t have a problem with it, obviously, but seeing as he had been portrayed as homophobic in the past, you didn’t think he would have given it a try. 

Can I ask questions about that ? You asked. 

I guess, he shrugged. I mean, I don’t think I have really talked about it but I trust you so, yeah, go ahead. But there’s nothing to say, really. 

When was it ? 

Uh… Twenty years ago, I’d say ? He replied after taking some time to think. So, yeah, it was a while ago. When I performed with Elton John at the Grammys… 

NOOOOOO ?! You almost yelled. 

Your mouth was wide open and you were almost in shock. Had your boyfriend really slept with Elton John ?!?! He immediately burst into a fit of laughter, so much so that he was actually crying. 

You should see your face, he said as he tried to catch his breath. Fuck, you’re so gullible, babe. 

You’ve been leading me on, haven’t you ? You asked with a grin. You’ve never tried guys. 

Oh no, that part was true, he chuckled. It happened after the Grammys but it wasn’t with Elton. He’s great, he’s a friend but it wasn’t him. I don’t think I remember the guy’s name though. In my defense, I was high. 

So, what happened ? You asked. Hooked up with a guy and didn’t like it ? 

Basically, yeah, he said. The guy looked good and I though “If I ever have to be attracted by a man, I think that would be someone like this”, so when he flirted and made a pass at me, I went for it. He was cool and an ok kisser, but the hookup was a disaster. If you can even call it that. I was fucking high but that sobered me up and I knew right then and there : straight. 1000%. 

At least you know for sure, you giggled. 

Exactly, he chuckled. Next question ? 

Do you have any kinks ? 

Not so many, he said. I’ve tried a lot of stuff, out of curiosity and for the sake of experience but I’m not into freaky, kinky stuff. I’m a simple man. But I suppose it depends on what you call a kink ? 

I don’t even know, you giggled. I should have done my research if I had known I’d get to quiz you. 

Find a list and I’ll tell you whether or not I’m into it, he shrugged. 

You grabbed your phone and took the first list you found - there went the purity of your web browser. 

Age play ? Like “daddy-dominant-little-girl” ? 

Absolutely not. Being called daddy in bed is a huge turn-off. Maybe it’s a Dad thing, I don’t know. Not to kink-shame but I think it’s sort of twisted you know ? He said. 

You have called me “babygirl” before though, you pointed out with a smile. 

Yeah but I don’t see it in the same way. Probably a double-standard he admitted. 

Let’s see… Bondage ? You asked. 

I don’t mind it. It can be fun but not a necessity. 

Blindfold sex ? 

Hate it, he said. I love being able to look at my partner. I think I’m pretty visual when it comes to sex. As for blindfolding people… maybe. Once again, it can be fun once in a while. 

So no blindfolding you, you noted. Cuckholding ? 

Is that shit alphabetised ? He asked with a laugh. Cuckholding is a no for me. First, because I don’t do humiliation, secondly because I’m not big on sharing. 

Yes it’s alphabetised, you smiled. 

I do enjoy that. I know it’s not a kink but I like things in order. 

Good to know, you chuckled. Claustrophilia ? 

It depends. I’ve had sex in elevators, closets and airplane bathrooms, so I think it counts. You ? 

Never thought of it but I’m not against it, you said with a wink. 

Good to know. Glad I can easily get a jet for us to try that, too…

You chuckled once again. You liked learning more about him. 

Dominance we have already talked about… how about DIY porn ? You asked. That’s the next item on the list. 

Didn’t we just do that ? He asked back. 

Yeah but how did you feel about it ? 

It was fun. I’m not even sure I did a great job with the filming though. But I guess it’ll be fun to have the video as a memory if i’m ever away from you and horny, he stated. 

Electrostimulation ? 

Nope.

Erotic Asphyxiation ? 

They could have put that in the B section under “Breathplay” he commented. I don’t really like being choked but if you want me to do it to you, sure. Safely, of course. 

Both his alphabetical comment and the statement made you smile. 

Foot fetish ? 

Nope. A girl asked me to try that once but I didn’t like it. 

Food play ? 

It can be fun but I’m not big on it. Next ? 

Gagging ? 

Not for me, no. You ? 

No thanks, you said. I don’t really mind if I gag a little during a blowjob, though. But not voluntarily. 

I do like the idea of making you gag with my cock, he confessed with a little grin. Next ? 

Gerontophilia ? 

Nothing against the elderly but that’s not a kink for me, he said. But I’m sure I’ll find you sexy as fuck when you’re an old lady though. 

Thanks, you laughed. We’ve covered humiliation already… how about impact play ? Like hitting ? 

I don’t really want to be hit or spanked, he said. You ? 

I think I’d like to try, you said. I’ve been spanked before but I’d gladly try more. 

As long as I’m not physically hurting you…, he said. 

You could see a hint of sadness in his eyes. 

Are you alright ? You asked immediately. 

Yeah, no, I’m good, he said dryly. I just… well we might as well talk about it… 

What’s wrong ? We can stop this conversation if you’re not ok, baby, you said. 

It’s fine, he said. It’s just… in the past, Kim and I got physical a couple of times. I mean, you probably know about that, because of the media and I’ve written songs about it. It’s never been to a point where I was actually beating her down, but we’ve definitely hit each other a number of times. But thinking about that… it’s hard because it’s one of the worst mistakes I’ve ever made, you know ? That’s not the person I want to be. 

That’s not the person you are either, you said softly. You wouldn’t hurt a fly. 

I’d rather kill myself than hurt you, he stated in all seriousness.

You looked at him and his stern expression. You gently stroked his hand. 

I trust you and I know you’ll never hurt me, you said. 

You don’t think I’m an asshole who deserves hell for what I’ve done ? He asked pensively. 

I don’t. I mean, I’ll never condone domestic violence and if you ever lay a hand on me in circumstances that aren’t sexual, I’ll leave, that’s for sure. I’ll never say it’s ok that you hit your ex, but it’s also in the past and I know you have changed. So I trust you and I don’t think you deserve to suffer. I can see on your face that you suffer enough from the memories. 

I deserve to, he said sternly. 

Sorry, you said. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have brought up impact play. If it triggers you, we’ll never try it. 

If you want to try, maybe we can keep it on the soft side, he said. But yeah… I don’t think I’d be ready to really hit you too hard. Even if you begged for it. 

We can stop the list there, if you want, you said. I mean… I love talking about that with you but I’d be happy to just cuddle and go to bed, you know ? 

Nah, it’s good. Keep the list going. I like learning stuff about you, he said with a smile. 

Ok, so… interrogation play ? 

Not really. 

Japanese bondage like shibari ? 

Not my stuff either. I get the hype but it’s too intricate and I don’t have time for that shit, he said with a grin. It’s really sexy to see though. 

Klismaphilia ? You asked. 

What the fuck even is that ? He asked laughingly. 

It’s Greek and it means… oh… it’s enemas. 

Ah. Then no. Absolutely not, he said. 

Me neither. How about Katoptronophilia ? It’s masturbating in front of a mirror. 

Nope. 

How about masochism ? You asked. 

Down to M already ? No, I'm not a masochist. 

Reading the description I might be into that, you commented. It’s enjoying pain so… maybe I’m a bit of a masochist after all, you shrugged. 

Yeah ? Well as I said… as long as I don’t mistreat you… I guess I can pull your hair and spank you gently, he said with a smile. 

Sounds fine, you said with a smile. Next on the list is… Melolagnia, you added with a grin. I think I’ve just discovered a new kink of mine. 

What is that ? 

I’ll read it to you : “ Melolagnia is a fetish that involves being turned on by music. This doesn’t simply mean having a go-to Spotify playlist when you have sex, but rather experiencing strong sexual reactions in response to music and also fantasizing about certain songs or genres. The arousal can derive from a combination of the musical elements including the singer’s voice, beat, repetition, or even the quality of the composition, all of which can lead to physical sensations like goosebumps, a faster heartbeat, or even more natural sexual lubrication.” You quoted. 

Oh wow. Didn’t know that existed, he said. But yeah music turns me on. You ? 

Oh, definitely, you said blushing and attempting to hide your face. 

Why are you suddenly so red and looking away ? He asked with a grin. Any songs I should know about ? 

Shut up, you muttered. 

Come on, Y/N. Tell me. 

No. You’ll never let me live it down, you said. 

As long as it’s not MGK, that should be fine, he joked. 

Come on… 

Tell me ! What ? Is it an artist I’ve had beef with ? Mariah ? Christina Aguilera ? Ja Rule ? Please don’t say Ja Rule… 

I’m not having this conversation, you said, embarrassed. 

Now that I know you like domination, I can make you talk, woman, he said as he put a finger underneath your chin. 

You wouldn’t, you mumbled. 

Try me. 

Your eyes met his. He stared at you. 

Tell me, he said in his deep, authoritarian voice. 

“Not fair”, you thought, definitely turned on but unable to speak. 

Do I know them ?

You nodded. 

Is it a friend of mine ? Dre ? 50 ? He asked as you were unable to make a sound. Then who ? Tell. Me. 

There went the voice again. 

It’s… you. 

You spoke so softly, hoping he wouldn’t catch it. Unfortunately for you, he did. 

Ah, he said with a grin, trying not to laugh. 

Don’t judge me, you muttered. 

Well it depends… is there a song in particular ? He asked softly. 

Do we have to have this conversation ? You asked as you rolled your eyes. 

Come on babe, it’s fun. And it’s flattering. I’m glad you think my music can be sexy. 

Marshaaaaall…

Please ? 

He was looking at you with adorable puppy eyes. 

Fine, you grumbled. Superman. And Heat, too. You happy ? 

You hid your face in your hands in embarrassment. You heard him scoff and he gently kissed your shoulder. 

Come on, it’s fine. It’s not as if you had said FACK, you know ? Then I probably would have laughed in your face. But Superman… ? I sort of get it. I mean, it’s kind of the intention we had when we recorded. Heat too. I mean, it’s in the title. So it’s fine, babe. 

You don’t think I’m a weird groupie ? You asked. 

Of course not. I think you’re the cutest thing ever, right now. And I can definitely sing those for you sometime, he said with a grin. Let’s just not play one of my albums while we fuck, ok ? I’m not that much of an egomaniac. 

Mmmh. 

Let’s get back to the list, he said as he took the phone from your hand. So… Nylons ? No. Nebulophilia - steam and fog ? Neither. Oh… objectum sexuality. You like toys ? 

I have a couple, you admitted. You ? 

Yeah, a couple too. Though I don’t use them much. But we could definitely have fun with that, he said. 

Sure, why not.  What’s next ? 

Uh… pregnancy fetish. 

Well I’m attracted to women but not pregnant ones, you stated. I get that the creation of life can be beautiful and stuff, but they look like aliens to me. 

Yeah ? Well I have to admit… I don’t want anymore kids because I’m all done with that and too old for that shit anyway but… yeah, I think pregnancy is sexy, he admitted. I mean, I sort of have a breeding kink.

Really ? You asked in shock. 

Yep. Never been more attracted to my ex than when she was pregnant, he said. 

Was that because she was carrying your baby ? You asked. 

No, not even that. I mean, that plays a big part in the appreciation, but Stevie isn’t technically mine and still, when Kim was pregnant with her… I found her so hot. 

Ok, you said. 

You’d had the kids' conversation before and you were ready to give that up, but him saying that kind of made you regret the fact that you’d never be pregnant anymore. 

You ok baby ? He asked when you went silent. 

Sure, you said softly. I’m just thinking… I’ll never get pregnant again, so… I’ll never get to experience this kind of attraction from you to me, you know ? 

Doesn’t matter, baby. I’m always attracted to you. You’re my kink and fetish, you yourself, he said. 

Yeah ? You asked. 

Of course. Plus, I may have a pregnancy fetish but it’s not that much. Like, I’m not going to jump on every pregnant lady I see like some sort of creep. And I’m not crazy to the point of dealing with 20 years of consequences for 9 months of kink. 

Makes sense, you chuckled. So if my belly gets too round because of pizza, that’ll turn you on ? 

I don’t know, he said as he burst out in laughter. Probably not though. I like your belly just the way it is. 

Ok then. Next item ? 

Public sex, he said. That’s a no for me. Obviously. I can’t risk it. Then we have… Quirofilia, the fetish for hands. I don’t really have that either. 

Good. I’ll save on getting my nails done, you joked. 

No, you can still do that. I mean, I love seeing your pretty hands… especially on some places… but it’s just not really a kink. Also, nail biting turns me off. 

Really ? 

Yup. Next is… role play. What do you think about that ? He asked. 

Not really my thing, you said. But if it’s something you like, I’ll give it a try. 

It’s not really my thing either, he said with a smile. Robot fetish ? 

Nope, you replied. You ? 

Neither. I mean, I guess that if I was single and really in need, I’d love to get a sex robot, but the idea doesn’t really turn me on, he said. 

Yeah, you’re just a guy, you teased. 

Probably, he admitted with a laugh. Next is spectrochilia. Do you believe in ghosts ? 

Not really. But if they were to exist, they’d be more scary than sexy to me, you said. 

I agree. Then we have Stygiophilia. That’s a good one, he said. The pleasure of the idea of going to hell or facing eternal punishment. I guess I’d better get going on that one because there’s no way I’m going to heaven so… 

Don’t be silly. Of course you’ll go to heaven. You’re the best human I know, you said. 

Do you even believe in God he asked ? 

Depends. In times of despair, I hope he exists and hears my prayers. Plus, when I look at the marvel of the universe, I think it’s not something random… but I’ve never even read any sacred text or anything, so, not really. How about you ? 

I’d say I’m a Christian, he simply stated. Not churchy or anything, but yeah, I’ve read the Bible and I believe in God. 

I didn’t know that, you said. 

I don’t talk about it a lot. What’s the point ? Everyone has their beliefs. 

True. What’s next ? 

Tentacles. Nope. 

Me neither, you said.

Trichophilia - are you attracted to hair ? 

Are you kidding ? I’m a girl born in the 90s. If anything I’ve been taught to despise it, you said with a laugh. You ? 

Not attracted to it, nope. But I’m also not one of those guys who is disgusted by it. It’s just… hair. 

What’s next ? 

Urophilia. That’s a no for me. You ? 

Neither. 

Thank God. I mean… if you had been into it, I would have respected it, but there’s no way I could be involved in it. 

Yeah it’s gross. Let’s change the subject. What’s next ? You asked. 

Underwear. Well, you know I have a thing for lingerie, obviously, he chuckled. How about you ? 

I like lingerie too, you said with a smile. As for male underwear, I don’t really care, but I like your boxers. 

Then we have… Voyeurism, he said. 

Oh I’m not a voyeur, you said. If anything I am scared to catch anyone I know in the middle of sex. 

Same, he chuckled. But I have to admit that seeing you touch yourself is the hottest thing ever. That gets me really horny, really fast. 

Really ? You asked. 

Fuck yeah, he said. Remember the night I told you I loved you ? 

You blushed at the memory. The whole thing had been caused by his very own sex scene in 8 Mile, of all things. 

I like masturbating for you, you said softly. And I kind of like watching you masturbate too. 

So kind of a voyeur too I guess ? He said. 

I guess. Next ?

Vicarphilia - that’s the… oh, the arousal of hearing someone talk about their sec life. What do you think of that ? 

I guess that can be sexy. Never thought of it before. But talking about sex is sexy anyway. 

True, he said. Even casually like right now… it’s kind of cool and sexy, he admitted. Then we have whips. Once again, not too keen on those. 

Oh, ok, you said. 

You ?

I wouldn’t have minded trying but it’s not necessarily on my list either, you said earnestly. Next ? 

« Wet and messy », he said with a laugh. I do love when you’re all wet and messy.

Isn’t that one about wet food like jell-o though ? You asked. I always thought it’s kind of gross though. 

Oh yeah, he said upon reading the description. Then no, that’s not my thing. Wax play ? 

Maybe, you said. I like the idea of massage candles and stuff. 

Yeah, that sounds pretty cool, he agreed. Then we have yoni eggs. I don’t have a vagina so I don’t really have an opinion on that one, I have to say. 

Yeah… not my thing, you said with a grimace. 

Zappers ? He asked. Like electro-stimulation ? Yup, no thanks. 

It sounds scary, you said as he nodded. 

And there’s the last item on the list : Zentai. Like the latex body suits, he stated. 

Not sure I’d like it, you said. 

Same here. I mean, you’d look hot in one though, but I’ll survive if I never see it. 

That’s it ? We’re done ? 

We’re done, he said. Unless you have more questions for me ? To be fair I asked you a lot of them too. 

You took a second to think. Of course you had tons of questions you’d like to ask him. After all, he was a worldwide renown superstar, so you assumed he must have crazy stories to tell. 

Do you know exactly how many people you have had sex with ? You asked. 

I should have known this one was coming, he chuckled. No, I genuinely have no idea. Anything else ? 

Do you miss the era when you were… you know… getting a lot of action ? Instead of just having one partner ? 

No, he said with a smile. It was fun for a while but it wasn’t fulfilling. When you don’t have a lot of opportunities, you fantasize about it and you think it’s going to be the best thing ever, but you don’t actually get to build a connection with someone, you know ? And the sex is so much better when you have that. Especially with you. 

Do you really like our sex life ? You asked. 

Of course, he scoffed. What ? Do I look like I don’t ? 

No, you said with a smile. But sometimes I worry that I’m not… experienced enough for you. 

You don’t have to worry about that, baby, he said as he took you in his arms. I love fucking you, making love to you… It’s great. Are you happy with our sex life ? 

Of course, you replied. I mean… You already know you’re the best I have ever had. And I love that we’re able to talk about it, too. Thank you for opening up to me, my love. 

I like talking to you, he said. Now, how about a shower ? I’m all sweaty. 

You nodded and you went to the bathroom where you showered together, kissing and exchanging love words. After, you lounged in the living room, mindlessly watching TV as he told you about his day and his meetings. 

How did the meeting with Tracy go, by the way ? You asked. 

Went well, he said with a smile. We talked for a bit and she said she actually feels comfortable to keep working with me, so that’s one less thing to worry about. I would hate it if I had to hire someone else. Sorry, babe, I know you would have loved to see her go. 

I never said that, you defended yourself. 

I know you too well, he chuckled. You don’t have to worry, though. About how she feels about me, I mean. We cleared the air and she said she was just feeling super lonely. 

Do you believe her ? You asked as you squinted. 

I do, he replied. So you don’t have to worry about anything, ok ? 

Ok, you shrugged. I mean, I trust you. By the way, have you slept with anyone else from your team ? 

No, he chuckled. Just her. Why ? Are you jealous ? 

I’m not, you said. But I just want to know if I risk running into someone who’s slept with you, you know ? 

You should be fine, he chuckled. I mean, you don’t risk meeting any ex of mine besides Tracy. Oh, and Kim, obviously. But that’s it ? 

Why would I meet Kim ? You asked confused. 

Well, she’s going to be here at Thanksgiving, he shrugged - as if it were no big deal. 

You looked at him with a confused look. You had agreed to celebrate Thanksgiving together this year, with his family. It sort of made sense, since the two were living together anyway. However, you had absolutely no idea that it would imply meeting his ex - the infamous Kim Scott. The one that people considered as Marshall’s one true love. You were so taken aback that you had no control over your facial expression. 

Anything wrong ? He asked after a few seconds of silence. 

You didn’t tell me that when we talked about Thanksgiving, you pointed out. 

I thought I did, he shrugged. 

I think I would remember if my boyfriend told me his ex-wife would be here, you said sternly. 

Sorry, babe, he said casually. Is that an issue ? 

I mean… yeah, you said frankly. Why would you celebrate Thanksgiving with her anyway ? 

Because she is the mother of my children, he explained. It’s a family holiday.

But she is your ex. You’re divorced, you said. 

Yeah but we will always be family, you know ? He continued. It allows the girls to have both of their parents with them and not have to choose. Especially now that they all have boyfriends and spend holidays with their in-laws every other year. Plus, we’re good, you know ? We get along pretty well so it’s no big deal. 

Ok, you mumbled. I’ll just celebrate with Talia and Jamal, then. 

Not with me ? He asked with his eyebrows furrowed. I was kind of looking forward to our first holiday together, babe. 

Me too, you admitted. But that was before I knew your ex would be here. 

Why would that change anything ? He asked. 

Because it changes everything, you said. How do you expect me to enjoy it if the woman you married - twice, mind you -, the mother of your children is here ? I’m going to be… intruding. 

No you wouldn’t, he said as he took your hand in his. You’re my girl, you’re the lady of this house. You can’t intrude in your own place. I want you here, with me. 

I don’t know, you said. I don’t feel comfortable. And I bet she wouldn’t either. 

She knows you’ll be here, he shrugged. And she doesn’t mind. I think she’s looking forward to meeting you actually. 

You stared at him in surprise. You definitely didn’t expect to spend your first holiday as Marshall’s girlfriend with his ex-wife being around. He didn’t seem phased by the situation, as if he didn’t see the problem. You, on the other hand, could smell the disaster from ten thousand miles away. Right when you thought you didn’t actually have to worry about another woman in Marshall’s life, you were about to meet his fucking ex-wife. What could go wrong ? Absolutely everything.

[sseniita]

your mom

please read!!!

The villain’s first thought took him by surprise. 

Those are her eyes. 

The child must have been one or two years away from high school, and yet her round cheeks and the way she played with the hem of her sleeves could have said otherwise. The villain didn’t recognize where the young girl’s dark brown hair or freckles came from- surely the hero didn’t have freckles? Did she? A surge of panic ran through the villain as the features of the hero’s face became warped and foggy in his mind.

“Absolutely not.” He said. The child pouted in response, flashing him a weak and pathetic mockery of the hero’s puppy eyes. 

That’s her face, you faker. 

“This isn’t fair.” 

“Nothing is fair. Go home.” 

The villain had noticed someone was tailing him recently, he had assumed some amateur journalist or paparazzi (no difference, really) was the culprit before she made herself known by sneaking in with his cleaning crew into his office. Hero’s daughter was kept as a strict secret, as far as he knew only himself and the child’s late grandmother knew about her.  

“You have to help me.”

“And why’s that?” It was getting harder and harder to be civil with the trespassing child. 

“Mom said you’d help me!” 

The villain’s neck was beginning to strain looking down at her. 

“The hero was an optimist. She saw and felt things that were never there. Any sense of camaraderie you think we had didn’t ever exist.” He didn’t mean to sneer, it simply came out that way.  

The child laughed, a sarcastic, exhausted thing. She sounded like her too. 

“You would have never known about me if that were true.” 

“She could never keep a secret. Always jumpy. It took less than lazy observation to know.” 

The villain, in fact, knew from the moment she was born. He was there. The hero had been conveniently taken hostage by the villain for five months right when she started showing and three months after for recovery, he hadn’t seen the child since. The villain wouldn’t ever admit it, but they were eight months of pure bliss. The hero’s pregnancy was pleasant, she handled it very well up until her last month when she needed the villain for every menial task. After abandoning her abusive diet and workout schedule she finally gained some healthy weight (although lost most of it a month into heroism) and began to sleep a much needed eight hours a night. For the first time since they met, she went back to being a shiny and sparkling thing, all smiles and rosy cheeks, pure indulgence and excitement. 

The villain almost caught himself smiling at the memories before his gaze focussed back on the tiny monster in his office.

“Go home.”

“I can’t.” She said, copying his own demanding tone; slight pauses between words, emphasis on the important parts. “I have nowhere to go, the house was taken over by some people wanting to make it some messed up Hero museum. Grandma passed away, no one even knows I exist, and there is no way in hell I’m going back to the orphanage” She rummaged through the duffle at her side, the villain assumed it contained everything she owned. She pulled out a beige card with the hero’s writing in blue ink. 

As the villain read, the child blabbered. 

“You guys were friends, and I don’t believe you killed her like the news says. Mom talked about you all the time! She mentioned that she trusted you over and over again. You have to help me!” 

The villain couldn’t tell who the card was addressed to. It wasn’t signed to anyone and spoke ambiguously about love and trust and other disgusting things, the girl had assumed the card was supposed to be for him. The villain, albeit embarrassingly, wanted to believe that. 

“This isn’t for me.” 

“Of course it was!” 

“She’d never speak like this. Especially to me.” 

“Well I certainly have no use for it. My mom loved me. I don’t need a lousy card to know it. She knew that too. But I don’t think she was brave enough to ever tell you-”

“You shouldn’t speak about things you know nothing about.” This, he hoped, was laced with venom. 

“I dunno Mr. Doom and Gloom, you didn’t have to hear her go on and on about a secret crush she had rooftop fights with.” 

Dear lord, Hero. I don’t know whether to be angry at you for not saying something, or at myself for never noticing. 

He recognized how immature and childish his hope was. The only woman he’d ever loved was dead, and hearing now they had the illusion of a chance from her very own daughter was a worse heartbreak than if she just rejected him outright. 

They always had a weird relationship. A complex, fluttering thing that consisted of fistfights (regardless of powers; the villain considered it intimate, the hero considered it sexy), partnerships of planning and scheming, and being public representations of compliance and deviancy, the good and the dirty, love and hate. 

Somewhere along the line it had become late nights at diners, comfort in close proximity, a head on a shoulder, a hand on the back. The flirting, the teasing, the stares. The all-holy casual hookups.

The villain knew he was screwed when she came to his apartment late at night, drenched by the rain, mascara running down her cheeks. 

Villain, I need your help. I’m pregnant. 

The timing revealed Hero’s fling, it had been months after a fight that led them to ‘strict fighting terms’ it all broke down as fast as hero did in the villain’s arms. 

But she was gone now, buried in a government cemetery surrounded by hundreds of now wilting bouquets and dusty gifts. And yet, the innocent joy of reciprocation flushed through his body. He allowed himself one more denial. Just to be safe. 

“Perhaps it was for your father.” The child laughed at this, more genuine amusement than it was self deprecating, the villain didn’t blame her. He knew from the second he said it how stupid it sounded. 

“Good one. Anyways. Help me kill Supervillain.” 

Dejectedly, the villain plopped down at his desk chair, signalling the young girl to do the same on the chair across the desk. The girl happily obliged. “Here’s what I’m thinking, we disguise ourselves as post office men-”

“Wait wait wait. Be quiet for five seconds.” The villain found himself massaging his temples. “Your mother wanted one thing for you. And that explicitly included staying out of the business. I’ll get you a room with someone I trust. Lie low for now, I’ll send you off to a boarding school or something until you turn eighteen.” 

“What? No! I want to help you bring down the supervillain.” 

“Trust me, I can do that myself. You need to go back to the orphanage.” 

“I hate it there! I have things to do! I need to avenge my mom and that means killing the supervillain myself.” 

The villain was beginning to wonder if the child was a clone rather than a daughter. Perhaps the brown hair was just box dye. She had an edge she’d only seen in his hero, a bright star deep in the colour of her eyes, an unmatched amount of life inside her. The hero had passed away a little over two months ago and her daughter was immediately on the run. She must have known how important it was to stay hidden. When was the last time she had a full sleep? 

“Look, Lily, I get it. But your mother will rise from her grave if she knew I got you hurt.” The villain ignored the shock on the girl’s face at the mention of her name. 

Your mom wouldn’t stop talking about me, well I guess we were on the same boat then. 

"Even better, I think." She joked. Of course only your daughter would joke at a time like this.

“You need time. You need to rest. I can offer you safety. I can promise you that when the time comes to kill Supervillain, it’ll be done as far away from you as possible. Your mother would never forgive you if you ever even touched the handle of a gun. Please, at least give her that.” 

Lily was her mother’s spitting image. Her curls didn’t hold without product, her big brown eyes hid underneath long lashes. Her cheeks would stay round well into adulthood, and they both picked nervously at their nails. But when she finally lifted her head and her eyes met the villain’s eyes, he swore he saw a glimpse of himself in them. 

“Make it slow.” 

The villain smiled. 

“Naturally.”

[vodika-vibes]

heyy vod’ika. Love this fall event idea. It’s so cute and cozy. Anyways, this idea sparked When I was reading the prompt list.

could I have Kix/fem Reader and pumpkin carving. I was thinking that maybe she’s a bit too excited about getting to carve a pumpkin, and she accidentally cuts her hand, resulting in the night ending with him taking care of her and comforting snuggles, or something like that.

happy autumn 🍂💕

Little Talks

Summary: You introduce Kix to the joys of carving a pumpkin. It goes about as well as you expect.

Pairing: Clone Medic Kix x F!Reader

Word Count: 983

Warnings: None

Prompt: Pumpkin Carving

A/N: Thank you for your request! And while I normally wouldn't write something today due to my husband's work schedule, he got called in suddenly so I have time to write. So, here it is!

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

“Hey, cyare?”

“Hm?” You answer, half distracted as you dig for one of the bottles of pumpkin ale from the back of the fridge. Honestly, why did you put them in the back of the refrigerator when they’re your favorite?

Kix appears in the doorway and leans his hip against the frame, his arms folded across his chest, “Why are there two gourds sitting on your coffee table?”

You straighten and shoot him a puzzled look. “What are you—?” You pause to remember what’s on your coffee table, “Oh! The pumpkins!”

“That’s what I said.”

“No, it’s not what you said,” You counter as you scrunch your nose at him, “Gourds could be one of a dozen different things.”

“You’re not answering the question, babe.”

“I’m going to introduce you to the joys of carving a pumpkin!” You announce with a grin.

“...Ah.” He rubs the back of his neck for a moment, “Why?”

“Because I love you and want to spend time with you.”

He smiles at you, small and fond, but shakes his head. “No, I meant why are we carving pumpkins? Is there a reason?”

“Oh. Tradition, mostly. I like to roast the seeds for a snack, but honestly, there are easier and cheaper ways to get pumpkin seeds.” You ramble cheerfully as you walk over to him and tug him into the living room, “We’ll move into the kitchen for the actual carving, it’s a bit too messy for a living room activity—”

You stoop to grab the pumpkins, only for Kix to take them from you and bring them into the kitchen.

“You don’t have to do that,” You say as you follow him into the kitchen and settle next to him at the bar.

“I wanted to.” Kix sets them on the counter and then tugs you into his arms, “You shouldn’t have to carry anything, ever. That’s what I’m here for.”

You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck, “Lucky me,”

“Lucky you is right,” He bumps his forehead against yours, a grin crossing his face as he dips you back so he’s able to kiss you.

You move your hands to cup his face, sure that he would never drop you, “Well, someone is confident in themself.”

“Please, I’m a catch.” Kix counters smugly before he catches your lips with his for a deep kiss. 

You sigh into the kiss, deeply content with the way that your life is going, but also well aware that Kix is trying to distract you. So you press your hands against his chest and push him back slightly, “You’re not going to distract me this time, Mister.”

“You sure?”

“Yup.”

“I can be very distracting.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” You say as you stick your tongue out at him, and he grins at you and leans in to try and catch your tongue. “Come on, Kix. This is important to me. I want to show you some of my childhood. You can distract me later.”

“Well, when you put it that way, I suppose I can stow my libido for an hour or two.”

“Oh, can you?”

“It’ll be a hardship, but you’re worth it,” Kix says solemnly. 

Laughter bubbles from you, “You have been spending far too much time with your brothers.”

“Alas, such is my life.” He pulls you so that you’re no longer hanging from his grip and settles his arms around your waist to rest his chin on your shoulder, “Alright. Show me what we’re doing.”

“Head on over to your pumpkin, and I’ll give you a crash course.” You say cheerfully before you turn to kiss his cheek, “I need to grab the carving knives. Honestly, you’ll probably be better at this then me.”

Kix tosses you a slightly smug smile and releases you.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re muffling your laughter as you confirm that you’re right. You’d be surprised if he wasn’t, you know that knife work was part of his training, even outside of the whole medic thing.

However, you’re so distracted with watching Kix, that you’re not watching your knife, and you release a sharp hiss and drop the knife down when you feel a sharp pain in your index finger.

“What happened?” Kix is there immediately, his sharp eyes honing in on the blood welling from your finger.

“I just nicked myself, that’s all.” You reassure, “It happens almost every year.”

Kix frowns at your hand, and immediately tugs you over to the sink, “You have a first aid kit, right?”

“Yeah, it’s over there, but really, Kix. I can take care of it.”

“You have a personal medic here wanting to take care of you and you’re refusing?” Kix asks with an arched brow, and then he smiles, “I want to take care of you. And, luckily, I’m good at this.”

And he is good at it. 

He has your finger cleaned, treated, and wrapped in under 5 minutes.

“Wow, that was quick.” You marvel as you stare at your bandaged finger.

“My brothers are idiots,” Kix replies as an explanation, and, knowing Fives and Hardcase, it is explanation enough. “There, not that you’re not bleeding anymore, we can cuddle on the couch.”

“But the pumpkins—”

“Cyar’ika,” His hands move to cradle your cheeks, “You aren’t going to be able to cut your pumpkin with your finger like that. And don’t you want to cuddle with me?”

You close your eyes and lean into his touch, rubbing your cheeks against the palms of his hands, “Alright, I suppose the pumpkins are a lost cause at this point.”

“We can clean it up later,” Kix agrees as he eagerly nudges you out of the kitchen and into the living room. And, before long, you’re sprawled across his chest, your head tucked under his chin and his arms secure around your waist.

And this, you think, is the meaning of happiness.

@imabeautifulbutterfly

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@justiceandwar98

@Mira-Loves-Star-Wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

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[deonn-jaelle]

break of dawn pt. 2

“i don’t want the sun to shine i wanna make love”

“i don’t know what im gon’ do i cant stop lovin’ you”

summary

you and your husband have busy schedules and haven’t seen each other in far too long. you crave his touch (and his dick) more and more as the days apart go on. when it finally comes time to go on a date after so long, you bring out a scandalous piece of clothing to make sure you both get a happy ending by the end of the night……or the beginning of the next day.

warnings❗️: LOTS OF SMUT

word count: 2,983

paring: aurélien x chef reader (black fem reader) (reader understands french)

note: hi everyone! i hope you enjoyed part one. if you haven’t read it please do. i had A TIME writing this yall, and it’s real spicy. it’s kinda long too so grab a snack. constructive criticism is always welcome and of course, enjoy!

———————————————————————

10:00pm

your date with your husband was filled with lots of talking, laughing, longing touches on each others legs under the table and the most intense eye contact. although you said you want to “talk to” your husband, and you did really miss talking to him you found yourself in your thoughts thinking of every single position he would put you in tonight. how many kisses it would take for you to beg for him. how his thick, heavy dick felt on your tongue. and his slight curve. you loved how his dick curved inside of you hitting spots you didn’t even know were there. the taste of the skin on his neck. his firm hands holding you lovingly, yet possessively as he took you from behind. the fact that you’re also ovulating makes everything so much harder for you.

does he know i’m ovulating? he must because there’s no way he’s been teasing me like this all night.

just as you thought that aurélien squeezes your thigh that rests on his own, leans in and whispers to you “i hope the baby we make tonight looks just like you”. you almost spit out your wine. “how the hell do you know i’m ovulating?” you say whisper yelling in confusion. he grabs your chin between his to fingers and makes you look at him in the eyes. his lips inch closer to yours, almost touching as you lift your head a bit to try and kiss him before slightly pulling back and says “J'ai hâte de t'enlever ces vêtements sexy” (i can’t wait to take these clothes off of you sexy). he slowly moves up you thigh. you instinctively part your legs a little for him showing your neediness for him. his pinky ever so gently grazes over you covered clit making you bite your lip in order to keep quiet so the other people at the restaurant don’t hear you. “behave aurélien. please. i can’t take the teasing anymore. i need you right now.” you say pleadingly, grabbing his shirt. looking at you with a half amused half serious face, chuckling a bit he says “oh i thought you just wanted to talk baby?” removing his hand from your underwear and leaning back into his chair. you rolled your eyes putting his hand back on your stocking covered knee. “i did….i still do but..we have four days to talk i need you to fuck me right now”. he looks at you with slightly wide eyes and raising his eyebrows. “okay okay, relax. i’ll give you what you want but roll your eyes again and this night will end a lot differently” he says stern and assertive. you obey “yes sir” smiling shyly not wanting to risk him not making you cum tonight.

10:30pm

the car ride home was almost quiet. just the sound of your husband kissing your hand and saying “missed you so much” and “i love you, ma femme” (my wife). it felt like he was driving at two miles an hour. you were going crazy in that car, anxiously waiting for him to pull into the driveway.

______________________________________

11 o’clock

the second the door closed behind you aurélien attaches his lips to yours in a soft loving kiss which contrasted the feeling you both had in your lower regions. his hands slowly and softly roam your body. feeling down your ribs, your waist, your hips and finally your ass. he squeezes softly. “i love you so much mrs.tchouameni” and says with the most heartfelt look in his eyes making your heart swell. “i love you too mr.tchouameni” you say genuinely smiling, showing your dimples. he turns you around and begins to zip down your dress. his knuckles softly grazing over your back making you lean back into him. his hands find your hips and he pushes his hips into yours making you feel his growing erection. the two of you start walking slowly to your shared bedroom and he says to you from behind “you feel what you do to me” making you moan “everyday while i was away all i could think about was how beautiful you look taking my dick baby” he kisses your sweet spot, right under you ear causing another string of breathy moans out of you “Et comme tes jolis gémissements sonnent bien. juste pour moi” (and how good your pretty moans sound. just for me) pushing his hips against yours once more. “yes baby, only for you. fuck” whispering a curse at the end and arching your back making your ass push against him more.

your were so caught in the feeling of auréliens large hands on your hips and his warm bulge pressing into your ass that you didn’t even realize you had finally made it to the bedroom. you stand in front of the bed watching your husband pull off your shoes, touching over you sheer black knee high stockings, then your dress, showing the black lacey lingerie set he bought you months ago. he licks his bottom lip, salivating at how sexy you look in front of him.

Merde. C'est la plus belle femme que j'aie jamais vue. (damn. she’s the most beautiful woman i have ever seen)

he thinks. admiring you in all your glory. his hands explore your body touching your breasts. softly squeezing them. his hands travel down to the waistband of your panties just feeling the soft fabric on his hands. at this point your knees are weak and your heart is beating fast in anticipation. your panties are soaked to say the least. you can feel your wetness threatening to leak down your legs any second now.

he’s going too slow go me

you think to yourself

11:30pm

you grab his shirt and start to undo the buttons. “take it off” you say sharply, given a surprised look by your husband. “please” you say smiling. and he does. your mouth immediately goes to his chest, kissing and licking anything you can get your tongue on. you travel up to his neck, kissing, biting, and licking. your hands are holding tightly on to his pants wanting to rip them off. he moans “baby slow down, i always take care of you don’t i?” he says looking down at you “yes you do but you’ve been teasing me all night and i missed you so much. i just want you inside me. and-“ he cuts you off with a passionate needy kiss, grabbing your hand and making you feel his dick. “you want this dick baby? go ahead and take it” he says sitting on the bed. you waste no time taking off his pants and underwear. you get on your knees in front of him and take his thick length into your hands. massaging up and down his shaft. you moan at the sight of how hard he his for you. you lick long stipes up his dick before you finally take the sticky tip into your mouth. he groans loudly and rests his hand in your braids as you begin to suck and bob your head up and down. “ Tu suces si bien cette bite bébé. tellement bien. (you suck this dick so good baby. so good.) you moan on his dick at the sound of him praising you in his native language. he grips your braids and slightly, pulls you back as he starts to feel his release creeping up on him “not yet mon sucre, i’m cumming inside you tonight. come here” (my sugar). he lays down and montions you to sit on his face. you climb up his body and hover when you get to where he wants you. he kisses your inner thighs sweetly looking up at you.

“look at me”

you do.

“i want you to listen okay?”

“yes baby”

“i’m going to take my time with you. cherish every sound, every shake, and squeeze. i’m going to make love to you, until i see the sun peak through the curtains. and i want you to let me love how i want. no rushing. just me and you”

a short silence fell among you.

“okay….okay. i trust you aurél”

until sun rise? yeah i’m definitely not walking tomorrow you think

“Tu ne quitteras pas cette pièce tant que je ne saurai pas que j'ai mis un bébé en toi (you’re not leaving this room until i know i put a baby in you)”

11:45pm

you were about to laugh but were cut off by aurélien swiftly pulling your panties to the side and softly sucking your clit. “fuck” you moaned. his hands gripped your thighs firmly making sure you didn’t move. he sucked and licked every inch of your heat always keeping his eyes on yours. he let go of one thigh putting two fingers into you flicking them harshly against your gspot. “yes just like that baby” you moan shakily. he does as he’s told and continues to eat you like youre his very last meal. “are you gonna cum for me?” he says still finger fucking you “y-yes yes i’m gonna cum” you cry out loudly. he reattaches his mouth to your clit and sucks harder making you cry out his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear you “aurélien!!!! yeeeeeeeesss”. you shook and squeezed his head with your thighs. he continued to suck you making you let out a high pitched whine “baby wait i-it’s too much”. he doesn’t stop. you know why. he wants you to squirt for him.

11:57pm

he sucks harder, removing his fingers from you to hold you tighter to his mouth. “ooohhhh fuuuckkk” you whine unbelievably loud as you let out a hot, wet squirt all over his face and chest. and he takes it all, drinking you up as if he was dehydrated. you thought he was gonna stop there……but he didn’t.

what the hell? is he trying to give me a heart attack?

“aurél what are you doing” you half moan half scream as you try your best to catch your breath. “i wanna taste you again” he says against you. “i want you to cum on my tongue again baby” giving his attention back to your glistening vagina.

oh my god this fool is pussy drunk. i can’t feel my legs.

you thought.

12:05am

you didn’t say a word because you knew there was no stopping him. instead you braced yourself for the earth shattering orgasm you felt already building up inside you. he reached one hand up to play with your nipples, giving you extra stimulation. he puts his tongue inside you exploring your insides. “oh my god baby fuck i’m cumming againnnnnn” you yell out gripping his hair to try ground yourself as tears fall from your eyes. your vision leaves you and your ears ring as your second orgasm ripped through every nerve in your body.

your husband sits up so that youre straddling his brick hard dick as he holds you close, leaving kisses on your collar bones as you come back down to earth. “you still there baby?” you hum in response because you don’t know words at this point.

it’s only 12:11am and i’m already worn out. i need his dick inside me. you thought.

J'espère qu'elle est prête. Je dois rattraper le temps perdu. Je suis sur le point de la baiser si bien (i hope she’s ready. i need to make up for lost time. im about to fuck her so good.) he thought.

you both sit there for a couple of minutes

12:22am

you began to rock your hips against his dick, spreading your arousal all over his shaft, making him moan and kiss you letting you tastes yourself. you share a long passionate kiss as you get yourself off on his dick from the outside. “are you ready for me mon sucre?” “yes. please fuck me now.” you say kissing his jaw, tasting your left over liquids. without skipping a beat he flips you over so that he is on top of you and lines himself up with your plush, dripping entrance. you wrap you legs around his hips forcing him to push his tip in a little causing you both to gasp. he puts his weight on his arms and he slowly pushes into you. his lips caught between his teeth and his face in your neck smelling your perfume. “you smell so good baby”. you moan in response. you feel him stretching you out more and more. pushing deeper and deeper hitting your cervix. you feel like you’re spilt open. you squeeze around him a few times trying to get used to the feeling of him after so long. “mmm you’re so big. your dick feels so fucking good inside me baby. i missed this so much mmm” you say into his ear holding onto him closely. “i love this pussy bébé” he responds.

12:36am

he begins to speed up his thrusts, keeping them long to make sure you feel every single inch he has. the sounds of your skin connecting with his, his panting and moaning in your ears and the lewd squelching of your vagina sucking his dick in are sounds you’ve never been more happy to hear. “fuck you make me so wet aurélien” “ you fuck me so good ah”. the sound of you praising him makes him fuck you harder. he can’t get enough of it . you notice and keep talking “i love it when you fuck me hard like this. keep going, just like that” he grabs one of your stocking covered legs, puts it over his shoulder and puts his body weight on it to make sure you stay open. you feel him deeper making you gasp for air and claw at this bicep. your husband puts his hand around your neck and adds a light amount of pressure, making sure he doesn’t hurt you. the feeling of his cold wedding ring against your hot skin makes you hum and arch up to him.”look at me” your eyes go from watching him pound in and out of you to meet his, filled with pure lust “you love your husband’s dick right bébé”. you say nothing. you can’t form a sentence because you’re too focused on the creeping feeling of your third orgasm. you moan trying your best to answer him. he doesn’t like that and squeezes your neck a little bit tighter, slowing his strokes, making you whine. “answer me and i’ll let you cum” you try and try but nothing come out. he keeps his pace and put his lips back on your neck. he snakes his hand down and begins to rub your clit gently. “i know you can do it pretty girl”………………..“fuck yes y-yes i love my husband’s dick. i love it i love it so much.” you moan out. “mmmm good girl”.

12:57am

satisfied he speeds up again but this time at a speed you’re not even sure how you’re able to take. he assaults your clit, loving how you squeeze around him. he twitches inside you coming so close to his release. “cum with me. i wanna feel you cum when i do. cum for me baby” he says slamming into you. “uuugghhhh oh my god yesss fuck” “ooohhhhh yes baby” you both say in unison. you both cum together. he spills his hot white seed into you covering every inch of you pussy. scratching and biting each other. shaking and squeezing each other tight. he pulls out of you slowly. he rolled off of you, laying on your side and pulls your head on his chest. you can hear his heart pounding, yours doing the same. he gently caressed your back and kissed your head.

you both laid there in silence enjoying the post orgasm bliss.

1:15am

“i missed this” he says finally breaking the silence. “me too. you make me so happy” “not happier than you make me” he says touching your braids and kissing your forehead. you chuckle, kissing his chest. “my fingers can’t do what you can. i was never satisfied while you were away”. he began to grow hard again at the thought of you with your fingers inside your pussy trying to fuck yourself as good as he does. you felt his hardness growing on you stomach. “neither was i. even when i watched the videos of us it wasn’t the same as having you under me” he says softly, making you squeeze around nothing as you feel the excess cum drips out of you. feeling aroused again and slightly sore from the force of your man’s thrusting you gaze over at the clock on your nightstand. “you know….its only 1:23 and i don’t think im pregnant yet” “so what do you want to do about that mon sucre?” you straddle him, put your lips up to his ear and began to stroke his dick with your hand “i want you to take the rest of my clothes off” refering to the stockings and lingerie you still had on “and let me ride you until my knees give out” “mmmmm that’s sound like a good plan” he smiles kissing you “mmm and i heard backshots are good for making twins” “oh you want twins?” “mhm” “well let me give my wife twins” he says seductively as he pushes himself inside you.

i hope he’s excited for four more days and nights of fucking like this because i don’t stop ovulating until after he leaves. you think to yourself as you began to bounce on him slowly.

J'espère qu'elle sait que je vais la baiser comme ça tous les soirs jusqu'à ce que je parte (i hope she knows im gonna fuck her like this every night until i leave). he thinks at the same time gripping your hips and slightly speeding up his thrusts.

and thats the end!! i hope you all enjoyed. i’ll probably write again soon so we’ll see what i come up with next. i can’t bring myself to write anything short. i’m just too into the details so sorry if you don’t like long fics. anyway, please like, comment and repost. love yall🤍

[lynzishell]

Prev // Next

Transcript:

Phoenix arrives home exhausted after a long day. He can’t wait to slide into bed next to Dawn. It seems impossible to sync up their schedules lately, and he’s missing her a lot.

When he walks into the living room, he’s surprised to find her asleep on the couch.

He crouches down and strokes her hair, feeling almost guilty for waking her.

Phoenix: Hi. Dawn: You’re home. Phoenix: Yep. You must’ve been tired, you’re still in your work clothes. Dawn: So tired.

He stands to help her up, but she doesn’t move, doesn’t even open her eyes. Phoenix: Do you want to come to bed? Dawn: Mhm. I’ll be there in… in just a minute. Phoenix: [unconvinced] Right.

---

The two of them wake up the next morning on the couch, still in their clothes from the day before, and wrapped in each other’s arms. Their alarm is beeping faintly from the bedroom down the hall.

Phoenix squeezes Dawn tight before forcing himself to sit up.

Phoenix: Good morning. Dawn: G’morning. When did you get home? Phoenix: Around eleven. I tried to wake you. Dawn: I know. I was so tired, I couldn’t move. Thanks for staying with me. Phoenix: Of course. It feels like sleeping is the only thing we do together these days. I wasn’t going to miss it.

Dawn: Ough, I know, we need a vacation. Phoenix:  We do. Where should we go? Dawn:  Hmm, somewhere tropical. I want to drink cocktails on the beach and swim with dolphins. Phoenix: Oh, that’s different. Dawn: I know. I know you prefer the snow, but— Phoenix: No, let’s do it.

Dawn: Really? Phoenix: Yes, really. It’ll be fun to go somewhere new. And if you have to walk around in your bikini the whole time, then so be it. Dawn: I see. You have ulterior motives. Phoenix: Definitely.

Phoenix kisses her then, softly but in a way that makes it clear just what those motives are.

Unfortunately, the alarm is still beeping in the other room, reminding them that there’s another busy day ahead of them. They both sigh and look at each other, wishing they could soak in this rare moment together a little longer… maybe they can.

Dawn: I’ll go shut off the alarm. Will you put on a pot of coffee? Phoenix: Yep. When do you have to leave? Dawn: About an hour. How quick do you think we can get ready? Phoenix: Thirty minutes? Dawn: Ooh, ambitious.  

---

Phoenix: So, when should we do it? Dawn: Do what? Phoenix: Take a vacation.

Dawn: You tell me. You have that look. Phoenix: What look? Dawn: That I’m-asking-a-question-so-I-can-give-you-the-answer look. Phoenix: I don’t do that. Dawn: So, you haven’t already come up with a plan?

Phoenix: Okay, maybe I do that. Dawn: Mhm. So, when should we do it? Phoenix: How about August? It’s far enough in advance to plan, and it’s the last chance I’ll have before things get crazy in the fall.

Dawn: And just in time for our anniversary. Phoenix: [feigning surprise] Is it? Dawn: That sounds perfect. I have to get going though, so we’ll have to figure out the rest later.

Phoenix: What time will you be home tonight? Dawn: Six. Seven, at the latest. Will you be here? Phoenix:  I’ll try to be. Dawn: Okay. I love you. Phoenix: I love you too.

[mochinek0]

Robin Hoodie

Marinette hugged her hoodie closer as she walked out of school. She had been so busy the past three weeks and Damian wasn't fairing any better. All they had time for was a quick 'Good morning' or 'Sweet dreams' these days. She couldn't blame him being so far away from her. Their schedules were always so small, but she missed him; the eight hour difference was taking it's toll. It's why she had dressed up that day. She had made an oversized black hoodie with the Robin logo on it. It was the best thing she could think of to comfort her. The only thing better would be-

"Habibiti." a voice called.

Marinette froze.

'I'm hearing things. Right?'

Marinette looked up and saw her boyfriend at the bottom of the steps.

'Damian!'

Marinette rushed over, as fast as she could, and hugged him.

'It's him! I'm not dreaming! It's Damian; my Damian! This is his cologne and shampoo. It really is him.'

"What-What are you doing here?" Marinette asked.

Damian opened his mouth but pulled back, taking in what his tiny girlfriend was wearing.

'She's wearing my colors; my logo! The hoodie appears to my size. Is this the reason those morons parade their girlfriends around in their jackets?'

The hoodie sagged a bit around her waist and a bit over her back shorts. She was wearing black knee high socks and dark green boots with bright red laces. He was quick to realize, he wouldn't mind if he brought Marinette to his school dressed like this, showing off she was his and his alone.

'Angel, are you trying to kill me?'

"Someone on your mind?" Damian questioned, pulling her back into his arms.

Mari simply blushed.

Suddenly, Marinette was yanked out of her boyfriend's arms. She was surprised to see Alya, Adrien, and Nino standing between them.

"Hey!" Nino shouted, "Who do you think you are?"

"Back off ya creep!" Alya sneered.

"Guys!" Marinette squeaked, pushing through them and back into Damian's arms, "This is my boyfriend!"

The trio was silent.

"He's from Gotham, hence the outfit." Mari continued to explain, "We've both been busy. We haven't had time to video call. It's been nothing but quick texts for about two weeks. I wore it because I was starting to feel lonely and I missed him."

Damian kissed the top of Marinette's head, "I missed you, too. How about we take a walk? Maybe we can find this Andre you keep telling me about and we can talk about dinner, tomorrow?"

"I'd like that." Marinette smiled, as they began to walk away from the school.

"Did you know?" they shouted at each other.

"No!" they all answered.

They turned and looked in the direction that Marinette left. She was smiling and obviously very happy with her surprise visitor.

Alya sighed, "We can questioned her tomorrow."

"You mean you'll question her tomorrow." Nino replied.

"Exactly." she smiled.

"Do we have to?" Adrien asked, "She looks really happy."

They looked again to see her brightly smiling at the guy. He looked at her like she was the only thing worth paying attention to.

"Maybe, only a little bit." Alya answered, "We at least need to know some basic stuff about him. Like, maybe how long have they been dating or I don't know, his name!"

The boys looked at each other in shock. The realization sunk in that they never asked for his name. They had no clue Marinette had left with.

"Oh, my God!" Nino cried.

"Yeah." Alya sighed, as the boys continued to panic, "That's what I thought."

"Did you see which way they went?" Adrien shouted, "Do you think we can catch them with my driver?"

"Marinette is gonna get kidnapped and we can't even defend ourselves!" Nino whined.

Adrien shook Nino, "Why did you let me, let her leave?"

Alya pulled out her phone and texted Marinette.

A:Boys are idiots. Give me something to keep the pair of idiots from panicking.

M:Panicking about what?

A:Realized they don't know who you left with and can't see you. Thinking you'll be kidnapped and shit.

M:I'm with my bf. I already called my parents and told them where we were going. I'm assuming I'll be interrogated tomorrow.

A: Yep. Before it was just me but I think the boys just got on board.

M: Damn

"You guys!" Alya shouted.

"What?" Adrien asked, "We are forming a plan and-"

Alya waved her phone at them.

"I texted her and she told her parents where they were going." she smiled, "She said she'll see us tomorrow."

Adrien and Nino relaxed.

"Oh." they mumbled.

TAG LIST: @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus

[raainberry]

Blue Hour

“The blue hour is the idea that everything is about to end or, on the contrary, that everything is about to start again.”

Jihyo x gn!reader

Fluff

synopsis - it was only supposed to be a fling

wordcount - 1.9K

T/W - Blood (mentioned (1) once)

A/N - missing the killing me good era😔 i actually don’t know how to feel about this one but i miss my girl so

Twenty to thirty minutes.

That’s how long it takes for the sun to fully rise. To show itself in the morning.

It takes the same amount of time to fully disappear. To hide itself in the evening.

In each case, the moon isn’t too far away. You remember seeing it every time before she showed up.

And every time after she left.

Nature’s schedule is strict. So was her’s, leading the two of you to only meet at night: in between two blue hours.

“It’s a little cloudy today.”

The sound of her voice broke your staring contest with the moon, finding the glow in her eyes to be more interesting. The latter shone brighter than yesterday, you noticed as she leaned against the railing beside you.

Your own smile pulled a little more at your lips as well, excited to see hers again. You’d only part for half a day’s worth every time, yet it always felt like it stretched as each day passed.

“I didn’t get to see much of the sunset on my way home.” She pouted. “Did you?”

She hoped the rooftop of her apartment building had offered a better end to your day than it did hers. After all, the sunrise and sunsets she’d witnessed from here so far were nicer.

You shook your head in response, though, making her frown. “Just a glimpse.”

“Maybe it’ll be better tomorrow.” She said, still hopeful.

Her optimism made you smile. The sun could stop shining for all you cared, she would do its job better anyway. She was one little sunshine, a true ray of light you wouldn’t have dared to approach if she hadn’t done so first.

“I doubt it. Fall is coming soon.” You reminded, but she shrugged, looking at the darkening horizon with the same spark in her eyes.

“The sun still sets during Fall, don’t be so depressing.”

“But it’s not as pretty.” You pointed out, pulling her eyes to you.

Maybe that’s what you were looking for, she realised, giggling at the sight of a familiar smirk on your lips.

“And what if I’m there?” She asked, grinning and posing with a hand under her chin for you.

She fluttered her eyelids, giving further into her own banter; her grin warm, playful and inviting as she urged you to join her point of view.

You couldn’t help but laugh at her antics, giving in to the harmless corruption with a soft kiss on her happy lips. She managed to steal a few more from your own, smiling into each one despite having to chase them.

When you managed to pull away, she pointed fun at your flushed cheeks, something you expected by now. You sported the shade proudly, her teasing never bothered you, but sometimes you did wonder how she managed to turn you into such a mess.

Maybe it was because things were still recent between the two of you. Or maybe you were just too far gone and—in all honesty—too down bad for her.

Either way made sense, so you never bothered to look further.

“Why do you still blush like that, we’ve been doing this for weeks, you should be used to it.” She teased, but her words landed in a different tone on your ears.

They made you think.

For weeks, you repeated…

“I am, that’s the problem.” You slipped out just under your breath. It was too late to retain the words, so you tried to keep them out of her ears.

It’d been weighing on your mind for a bit, how uncertain your relationship with Jihyo has been.

Whatever was going on between the two of you, it wasn’t exactly conventional anymore.

It was, only until about three weeks ago, when it was all supposed to end. You should not have seen her face past August 31st. That’s how flings worked. How summer flings worked at least. Or how you thought they worked?

You weren’t really sure of anything regarding love and affection. Relationships had taken a whole new meaning the second she laid her lips on yours that one night at the bar.

The feelings, the thoughts, the moments… It was all new.

She was new.

Maybe infatuation was the right word at the time. Now it just felt weak. Unqualified. Wrong.

You couldn’t tie the bond you’d developed down to such an ephemeral idea.

Not when your feelings for her settled in your heart with intentions so far out of field.

“The problem?” She repeated after a while.

Way to ruin the mood, you mentally congratulated yourself.

“What exactly is the problem, Y/N?” She asked, holding onto your sleeve with a couple fingers.

A timid and discreet gesture that didn’t go unnoticed. Your eyes fell down to her hand, and you couldn’t help but feel some of that hope she’d showcased minutes before.

Meeting her eyes again, you noticed the spark was gone, replaced by a clouded gaze similar to the blue sky above. It seemed heavy. Not as dark, only busy.

Was she worried?

“I just… Don’t know where this is going. That’s all.” You tried to shrug it off, pulling your hand away to get the sleeve out of her grip.

The busy streets below kept an awkward silence away from the two of you, allowing you to feign interest about their noise and random happenings.

The distraction could have been sweet if only it weren’t from your own mind.

It was hard not to think it all over. It was hard to focus on the rational part of it. The one telling you to leave tonight before getting hurt more than you already were.

It was hard because of how loud the other part was.

The one happy with just a glance from the woman beside you. Happy with just standing next to her. Seeing her smile, hearing her laugh. Satisfied with her kiss, her touch… As long as you learned more about her.

More than you should.

You sighed into the night, feeling your rationality push through.

“Would it make you feel better if I said I don’t know either?” She broke the silence.

Your eyes found her again, catching her smiling down at her own hands. That smile seemed heavy as well, as if she was forcing it out to avoid any other reaction.

“Not at all.” You said truthfully, causing a chuckle to escape her lips.

You didn’t understand why, especially when her eyes started watering instead of just… crinkling in joy.

Her teeth suddenly pulled on her bottom lip, nearly drawing blood as she tried to find words. The right ones. Ones that would make you stay even longer.

Her lips alone weren’t enough for that anymore.

“But… Don’t you want to figure that out together?”

A breath caught in your throat. Then another, after a second. It felt as though you didn’t know how to breathe anymore. Like her question shook much more than your heart.

You looked at Jihyo once more, hoping it would fix it like it did everything else, but her focus remained on her own fingers.

“I know I want to.” She said, picking at her nails, a giveaway of her nerves. “I just thought it was obvious.”

Her eyes finally raised to meet yours, sadness written all over the smile she tried to send you.

“Do you actually?”

Your voice came out a whisper, and it didn’t surprise you. You weren’t sure you wanted to know her answer to that question. You gave her a chance not to hear it. To get away and break the rules with no consequences for a little longer.

Truth was you’d let her.

“I think I like you.”

There it went again; your breathing.

“You think?” You chuckled, but only to fight the tears suddenly pooling in your eyes. “Jihyo, I can’t do this anymore.”

You stared out ahead, your gaze landing on nothing and everything all at the same time. So many lights, buildings, so many trees and people… Yet nothing registered.

All you could process, all you could feel… It emaned from right next to you.

The skies above reminded you of it. The familiar blue drowned its details as time deepened its shade. You watched it happen so many times with her you could blindly tell the time.

08:10pm.

That’s when she decided to take your hand in hers, pulling you away from the overwhelming sights.

That’s when you felt the warmth of her hands against your cheeks as she made you look into her eyes instead.

You focused on the lights reflecting in them instead, trying to avoid her thoughts. They could hurt.

“Tell me something, Y/N…” She trailed off, her eyes desperate for even a sign of your focus on her. “Do you regret any of what happened between us?”

“Yes.”

You watched silently as the effects of your answer painted her features.

They tensed up. Eyebrows lowered, lips narrowed, yet eyes watered, holding a sense of hopelessness you witnessed for the first time… It was messy. As if even she didn’t know how to feel.

You, however, could tell.

She wasn’t angry. She was exasperated. Frustrated.

“Can you feel it too now? Do you see why I regret it?”

You should have known she wouldn’t answer the way you wanted her to.

You knew she was stubborn.

You should have expected her lips on yours.

Just like you knew you’d melt into them with a single kiss despite yourself.

Your will never mattered when it came to her. You always ended up folding to hers, giving into a second kiss before intiating the third one.

And you rarely pulled away first.

“Why?” You practically begged through breaths she’d stolen from you.

The gentle brush of her thumb against your skin, the warmth and care she seemed to hold in her eyes for you, the silent words you could make out in them… It almost made you break down right then and there.

It all suddenly became so obvious.

“Because I like you.” She smiled.

It was bright again. It made you believe her a little more, although you still weren’t convinced.

Maybe she sensed that, as she wasted no time to argue her point.

“That’s why I’ve been making excuses to keep seeing you.”

“My flight back was delayed, can I stay at your place?”

“The company’s letting me choose the flight date and I don’t actually have to go back to work for another week…”

“Can we stay friends? I’d love to just hang out with you. Maybe come see me in Seoul some time?”

“It just happened, let’s just put this on reunion excitment.”

“Yes, friends don’t kiss each other. But friends with benefits do. So no, it’s not weird.”

Maybe they were not all excuses. Some you definitely had a hand in. Yet you remained clueless for some reason.

Love really makes you dumb.

“I thought you were playing me.” You mumbled.

“Then you don’t know me at all.” She said, amused.

“That would be because I wasn’t supposed to.”

“Yet you learned to, didn’t you?”

You nodded, looking down in embarrassment. You couldn’t help but feel ashamed of the drama you’d caused.

You scolded her for not being honest, but you were just as guilty.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled again. “This is all new to me, I guess I freaked out a little.”

Your confession caused a few giggles to escape her lips, to your delight. The sound made you smile as you admired the happiness radiating from her features again.

The intensity of your emotions made it feel as though it had been months since you last had the chance to.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. My intentions could have been a little clearer.” She admitted. “I want to date you.”

You chuckled at her small clarification, finding the moon in the dark blue sky again.

It shined a little more. The blue was turning into its darkest shade yet, as the day finally left room for the night.

The blue hour was over, and it made you smile.

You had all night to spend with Jihyo. The woman holding your smiley cheeks so softly in between her hands.

For the first time since you met her, you couldn’t wait until the next one.

Because this time you won’t have to forget about her once the sun comes out of hiding.

[princessamericachavez]

It’s not that Maddie creates a group chat specifically to check in on Buck. The group chat without him existed already for abysmally different though not completely unrelated reasons. So when Eddie sees the group change from the sober Hospital Updates to the playful Operation Keep Buck From Going Nuts it does startle a chuckle out of him. It reminds him that Buck is alright, at home, and finally free from his visitors.

Still… he is not entirely sure he is on board with the whole schedule thing. Not like it’s his place to say much, though. Maddie is Buck’s sister, she has seniority in the department of looking after her brother, and Eddie does understand where that instinct comes from. Hell, didn’t he drop Christopher on Buck’s lap last time he was forced off work to get his mind off his own convalescence? Still…

You’re not gonna get into the Buck Watch rotation? Chim’s texts him privately, after nearly everyone else has picked a day and time to drop by the loft.

Eddie purses his lips downwards. If Chim is texting him about this, Maddie must have brought it up (much like Buck and himself, there isn’t much those two don’t share with each other). He wonders if he’s being judged by it. No one commented on his absence in Buck’s room during their long vigil hours at the hospital, but they must have noticed. Now this. He knows what it must look like.

Did you want a parade of people at your place last time you almost died? He shoots back.

Yeah, no, that’s a good point. Chim’s reply is quick. I tried telling her, but she’s still worried…

Eddie sighs. Opens the group chat. Ignores de 148 unread messages: Hey, sign me up wherever you need to cover. If it’s after school, I’ll take Chris over.

Chim replies privately before Maddie does in the grupo with a string of thumbs up emojis and a final (probably accidental) rainbow.

He ends up in one of the last “shifts”. Something on the weekend so he can use Chris as an excuse. Like he’d ever need an excuse to drop by Buck’s for a beer. The schedule is so tightly packed that he knows Buck will notice far before it comes to his turn. He gives it four visits, max, before he starts feeling like a child being babysat. Chris would hate it, and he’s a teenager, not a grown man who just spent way too long stuck in a hospital bed.

But Eddie doesn’t get suspicious texts from Buck, complaining about the roaster of visitors, he doesn’t get a call to gossip on whatever excuse Hen used to come over, doesn’t really get much until the knock on the door…

“Please, don’t ask me how I’m doing,” his friend says and walks in. No invitation or excuse presented. They never needed any to barge into each other’s lives like they are the same shared territory.

Eddie watches him walk in, barely repressing the smirk that spreads across his face.

“Want a beer?” He offers, like part of his brain isn’t still processing the fact that Buck is here, alive, that he gets to just offer him a drink like two weeks ago he wasn’t sure he’d never hear his voice outside of his dreams.

“Probably more than one,” Buck huff, already settled in the couch, like he’s always belonged here.

“All that company must have worn you off,” Eddie says with a smirk and even with his back turned on his way to the kitchen, he knows that he can’t hide the petty satisfaction in his voice.

All those visits, all that family, all that attention and fussing and love… but Buck came here. He chose to come here. Eddie feels more than a little vindicated. He feels fucking giddy, actually.

Even when he comes back and Buck is sleeping in his couch, and he’s left hanging with two cold beers and the excitement to share some time with his best friend, the warmth in his chest persists. He sits down, quiet as he can be, and smiles when he hears the first familiar snore. There’ll be time for that. Buck is here, he chose to be here, and they have all the time they need.