#I lowered the song volume and it's still too loud sorry

[lullabyashes]

a sketch of yuya that turned into a fully rendered drawing!

bonus speed draw! ~5hrs

[onboardsorasora]

I woke up this morning with a song in my heart and that song was reversed age gap maxiel with a lil scumbag Max in the bridge. I've had an ask in my inbox for months now about reversed aged gap maxiel and I thought this was the same vibe but sadly it isn't. Oh wells, this is what I wrote this morning. thank you @chaosinstigator for being an amazing cheerleader <3

1172 wrds. There is a part 2 apparently lol

Something something four-time world champion Max Verstappen looks across the garage at his new teammate, the 18yr old they dragged up from VCarb to replace Checo. 

Daniel Ricciardo was a fast driver, he'd only spent a fraction of the year in F2 before he was called up. And even though the car wasn't good, he was. Which is what mattered.

Helmut had been puffing chest out in pride ever since Daniel proved him right. 

Now the kid– because that's what he was, a kid– was talking to the old man, nodding periodically while Helmut spoke. Like a good boy.

They'd already met, had time to break the ice as teammates and Max could hardly ignore how his light brown eyes had shone with worship and awe. Or how Daniel’s voice had cracked when he promised to be a good challenge for Max this year. His lips pulled into an almost-but-not-quite-there cocky smirk over the brackets of his braces, and Max idly wondered what other ‘challenges’ Daniel would pose this year.

In the weeks since that, Max couldn’t help but notice Daniel. How could he not? He was cute, in a dorky way. He listened to loud music, loudly. Unlike Checo who kept his tunes to a reasonable volume for someone sharing a wall. Daniel was always giggling and joking around, trying to rile people up to play. 

Max was already riled up in a different way.

What with Daniel’s continued teasing and jokes, walking around in tiny shorts and showing his new thigh tattoo to anyone with eyes. He was flexible too, contorting his scrawny body into yoga poses while they waited for engineering to start, doing handstands in the hallway. He was loud when he got massaged. Max could hear him talking through the thin wall and then his voice would hitch and he would groan when Jon apparently hit a particularly deep knot. It drove Max up the wall.

Max knocked twice before opening the door– his usual standard– then froze in the doorway. Daniel looked at him wide eyed, dressed only in his underwear and clearly about to get dressed in his tight white fireproofs. Max hadn’t ever seen him so underdressed, even with all of the random activities they’d been doing for marketing. He was scrawny yes, but still lithe with corded muscles. Dotted with freckles and sunspots. Max gripped the handle of the door when Daniel’s big eyes lost their surprise and settled into upturned curiosity. His heart shaped lips dropped open a little, enough for Max to see his tongue pressing against his braces. Max wanted to smear his come in the brackets.

“Max?” Daniel’s voice pitched upwards.

Max mentally stepped away from the visuals of him debauching this kid. “Your music.” He got out.

“Oh jeepers, my bad. Sorry!” Daniel rushed to the table to lower the volume on his speakers. Max watched his ass in his tight briefs. How his thighs bunched as he moved, thick with dark wiry hair.

“Lovely, thank you Daniel.” Max smiled and Daniel’s face darkened with a pleased flush and he bit his lip. Max forced himself to close the door and go back to his own room.

— - —

They were changing after a gokart race for marketing, Daniel sat shirtless on the bench. Max looked over to see him already watching him. After spending the last twenty minutes with Daniel practically sat in his lap while Max gripped his tiny waist, Max would appreciate it if he got dressed already.

“I can hear your brain from here.” Max teased and Daniel’s lips pulled into an unconscious smile even as he looked away. 

“Sorry I just– you don’t like me, do you?” Daniel blurted and Max froze.

“What?”

“It’s just– you didn’t–I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have like said that.” Daniel shook his head and stood. Max watched him tuck his long sweaty curls behind his ear. 

“Why would you think that?” Max was confused as to why Daniel would assume that he hated him, and wondered what made him think that way. As far as Max was concerned, he hadn’t treated him any differently than anyone else. Unless Daniel was expecting special treatment? If anything, Daniel was getting special treatment. Max wasn’t going out of his way to be a dick to him, he wouldn’t do that to his young teammate.

“Uhm, I– everyone says you were nicer to Checo, warmer. I-I don’t think you’ve been bad– you’ve been great. But I’m not Checo and I dunno if you like resent me for replacing him.”

“Checo was my teammate for five years, I am not going to, of course, automatically treat you like him.” Max pointed out, “and you shouldn’t listen to the media, they are talking out of their asses most of the time.”

Daniel blushed and ducked his head, chastised. 

“Was that it?” Max asked kindly. He would rather get this all out in the open now.

“I'm sorry.” Daniel apologized, his upturned eyes looked glassy as if he was holding back tears. “I just want us to be friends I guess.” He shrugged.

“You don’t have to be friends with your teammate.”

“I know but.. You were friends with all of yours. Like Carlos.”

Max scoffed, he hadn’t been friends with Carlos when they were teammates– they fucked out their frustrations.

Daniel’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in a small o. Max shrugged and tugged his shirt over his head. He repacked his bag and tugged on a cap, turning to see Daniel squirming where he stood, a deep blush on his cheeks. And oh. Well this was interesting. 

Max crossed the room and stood over him, using the few centimeters he had on Daniel to his advantage. Daniel’s head tipped up trustingly and Max cupped his smooth chin in his big hand. Daniel let out a breathy exhale that had Max’s blood surging. 

Max leaned in closely, so close their noses touched. Daniel’s breath hitched. It would be so easy to take. To give in and do what he wanted to Daniel, clearly what Daniel wanted him to do to him. It would be so easy to ruin him entirely. Too easy. 

“You have no idea what you’re asking.” Max whispered against pink lips. Daniel whined in response.

“I– please. I can take it”

“Have you ever?” Max wanted to know, needed to know just how corrupt his little jailbait was. Daniel’s eyes widened and Max bit back his groan. Fuck.

“W-with girls.” Daniel admitted in a whisper, he grabbed at Max’s arm as if he were afraid that his admission would make him less desirable. As if Max hadn’t already been fantasising about fucking him seven ways to Sunday every fucking weekend. His cock stirred at the thought of being the first in the undoubtable tight clench of Daniel’s untried hole. Of being the first to have him writhing and screaming at the discovery of his prostate. 

Would he beg? Max quirked a smirk at the thought, Daniel was already begging right now. 

[timetoletmyimaginationfly]

My Cute Nerdy Boy

Nanami Kento x Reader

(Song: Girl I see in my dreams - Twnie)

16-year-old Nanami quietly walked down the hallway. No one really acknowledge him, but every now and then, he would hear whispers about him. No finger pointing, but students aren’t exactly quiet.

“You finished my homework?” A white-haired teen appeared in front of him. Nanami nodded and handed Gojo a folder that contained his essay.

“It should give you an A,” Nanami said quietly while avoiding eye contact. To be fair, Gojo’s bright blue eyes can be intimidating sometimes. Or mesmerizing. Depending on how people see them as. Gojo skimmed through the papers.

“You’re making me sound too smart,” he said.

“Sorry,” Nanami said quietly. Gojo leaned in closer to his ear, hand by the ear.

“What?!” Nanami flinched at the loud volume of his voice.

“Sorry,” Nanami said slightly louder.

“Oi! Where’s my homework?” Geto asked as he walked up behind Gojo. Mentally, Nanami sighed as he gave Geto his essay. Geto smiled.   “Thanks, nerd,” Geto said. “Let’s go, Satoru.”

They turned around to head to class. Nanami sighed and walked to his locker to grab his materials for class.

“OH! THERE’S MY FAVORITE PRETTY LADY!” Nanami looked over to his right. There you were, smiling as you walked down the hallway. He watched Geto and Gojo run over to you. “How’s your morning, Princess?” You shrugged.

“It was fine. Just like every other morning,” you answered.

“Satoru, that’s a lame question,” Geto said.

“And you can do better, Suguru?” you asked with a raised brow. Geto smirked, leaning in closer to you.

“Do you know how your day can get better?” he asked. You stared at him, waiting for an answer. “You and I go on a date.” You giggled. They always flirt with you, but they were always nice to you.  

“Sorry, Suguru,” you said. “Besides aren’t you dating Keiko?”

“I dumped her.” You shook your head.

“That’s a shame. She’s a sweet one.”

“But you’re sweeter.”

“You need better pick up lines,” you said. “I’ll see you two later.” You turned and waved at Nanami. “Hi, Kento.” Nanami, being shy, waved back. You smiled back before unlocking your locker that was close by to Nanami’s. Gojo stood close behind you.

“You don’t gotta talk to the nerd,” he said quietly, but still loud enough for Nanami to hear him.

“Leave Kento alone,” you said sternly.

“Yes, ma’am,” the two said as if their mother reprimanded them. The bell rang and you shut your locker. You said bye to both Gojo and Geto and then walked to class. When you left, Nanami closed his locker, ready to follow you but Geto and Gojo blocked his way.

“Don’t get any ideas thinking you’re all that because she spoke to you,” Geto said.

“I’ll make her mine before anyone else,” Gojo said confidently. Geto sighed and smacked the back of his head.

“To be fair, Nanami would be better for her than you Satoru.”

“WHAT?!”

Nanami slipped away from them. With his head lowered, he walked to class. He found you talking to other students in the back. He blushed to the sounds of your soft laughs. With one last look, he took his seat in the front.

Class flew by. Your teacher asked you to stay behind. As students walked to the hallway, you walked up to the teacher’s desk. Slowly, Nanami was packing his things.

“You need a tutor,” your teacher said. You gave him a nervous smile. “I see your efforts. I see you jotting down notes, but you’re not understanding the concepts too well. I can’t blame you though, Anatomy and Physiology can be difficult for students. You have potential.” He looked around the class and smiled. “Nanami-kun, I have a favor.” Nanami walked over to the two of you.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“I hope you don’t mind tutoring,” he said and looked at you. You bushed.

“There’s no need, Kento. I can go to tutoring sessions and—”

“Nanami-kun is the best student in your grade and he has the highest grade in class. I would love for him to tutor you, if it’s okay with him.”

“I-I don’t mind,” Nanami said as he slightly turned away from you so you don’t see him blushing.

“Great! I knew I can count on you!” The teacher got up and left, leaving the two of you alone in the classroom.

“If you don’t want to, it’s really okay! I can figure it out on my own.” Nanami shook his head.

“We can go to my house after school if you’re available. Or your house. Whichever is fine.” He watched a smile form on your face.

“Meet me at the front?” Nanami smiled and nodded.

“Sure.”

He helped you take your jacket off and hung it on the coat rack of his house. Shyly, you thanked him, mostly because of his gentleman-like gesture. You followed him up the stairs, your backpack on Nanami’s shoulder and textbooks in his arms. You always knew he was kind, but you found this over-the-top kind. And it made your heart flutter.

When you entered his bedroom, you weren’t too surprised at his cleanliness. Nanami presents himself as a neat student, you can only assume how well put together he is. His bedroom is neat and organized with minimal items inside the room. Nanami placed your backpack on the floor by his bed.

“Do you want anything to drink? Or eat?” he asked, his eyes avoiding yours.

“Tea, please,” you replied. Nanami nodded.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

And swiftly, Nanami left the room. You cautiously moved around, not wanting to knock anything over; if there’s anything to knock over. But you can be clumsy and trip over nothing. Slowly, you sat on his bed and took out your notebook and textbooks. You started to write more notes down, hoping it would help you understand the material better. Chapter of the week, cardiac. But, you quickly lost focus and started to doodle hearts.

“That’s completely different from what we’re learning,” he said with a tray in his hands. You jumped, nearly causing him to drop it.

“I-I’m sorry! I almost made you drop the tray!” you exclaimed with a blushed face. Nanami just gave you a soft smile and placed the tray on the night table.

“It’s okay,” he said. He walked over to the other side of the bed and sat down next to you. “May I?” You nodded and handed him your notebook.

“Cardiac is hard.”

“It could be. Which other topics from the last chapters did you have trouble with?”

“Respiratory. Immunity. Oh! And hematologic! Just wait until we get to neuro. I might you need 24/7 for that.”

The two of you avoided each other’s gaze and blushed. Nanami couldn’t help but smile. The idea of helping you and being with you brought him to joy.

Thoroughly he explained everything step by step. And you appreciated the fact that he dumbed down the information, trying to make the topic more relatable with regular life analogies. He even printed out worksheets for you, something you were attempting to try to do when you get home. By the end of the day, Nanami walked you home.

“You didn’t have to bring me home, Kento,” you said.

“It’s dark outside.” You nodded with a smile, appreciating his chivalrous gesture.

“Can you tutor me again tomorrow?”

“Whenever you need help, I’ll be there,” he said with a smile. His smile made you smile. You love it when he smiles.

“Thank you, Kento.”

To his surprise, you waited for him by both of your lockers the next day for the past two weeks. You get excited when you told him how well you were doing with the worksheets he gave you. It made you excited that you are able to understand the concepts better.

“I guess I’m not so dumb anymore,” you said with a small laugh while he walked you home. Nanami smiled. He carried your heavy backpack with his and both of your textbooks, despite your constant refusal.

“You were never dumb,” he said. “You just need a different way of studying.”

“I-I guess so,” you said. Your cell phone suddenly rang. Without looking at the caller I.D., you answered.

“Are you free tonight, pretty lady?” Gojo asked.

“No,” you swiftly answered.

“What? What better way to spend your Friday night than with me?” he asked teasingly. Nanami could hear everything. Gojo isn’t the quietest person in the world. The man loves to be heard.

“Kento,” you replied happily.

“Aw come on! The quiet nerd?”

“Yes the quiet nerd,” you repeated irritably. “Satoru, quit making fun of him! He’s an awesome guy! At least Suguru is a little nicer.” ‘She’s not wrong,’ Nanami thought. He would rather tolerate Geto.

“Fine, fine. Whatever. I’ll call you tomorrow, pretty lady.” Annoyed, you shut your phone rather loudly.

“Such a jerk,” you muttered. “How am I friends with this headache?”

“Th-Thank you,” Nanami said quietly. Your anger simmered and you looked at him with curious eyes.

“For what?”

“Defending me.”

“Well someone should! Every time I hear someone talk crap about you, I tell them off! Kento, you’re too nice.  You’re the sweetest man alive,” you said.

“You-You do that for me?” he asked slowly. You nodded.

“They listen to me,” you said with a bright smile. “Satoru is naturally a jerk. Suguru feeds off from him, so they’re just stupid jerks.” You were busy ranting to notice Nanami looking at you with the softest eyes. He could feel his heart burst with joy. He always believed that you were way out of his league and here you are, constantly defending him. “What should we do tonight, Kento?” Nanami blushed. In his mind, it was as if you two were trying to have a date. But he knew you wouldn’t go out with someone like him.

“What do you usually do?” he asked.

“Anything that seems fun at the moment,” you answered. “I’m usually with Shoko Friday nights but she’s still on vacation with her family. Maybe we could watch a movie or something. Oh! There’s this new café that opened a month ago. I haven’t had a chance to go try it out.”

“We could go now,” he suggested.

You were excited. You picked out several different pastries: a lemon bar, croissants with whipped cream and berries, blueberry cheesecake slice, and a slice of green tea cake. Nanami just chose a large ham sandwich with cheese that’s on a buttery baguette. When the cashier rang you two up, Nanami quickly gave the cashier his card. He then carried the tray to the table with you following behind him. You thanked him happily and took a bite of the pastries.

“This meets beyond expectations,” you said. “Here, try this.” Nanami isn’t a fan of sweets, but he’ll do it for you. When he took a bite, he smiled.

“You’re right. It is good,” he said.

You got to know Nanami more while he tutored you. You always knew that he’s a kind and sweet guy. He’s also smart, quiet, and a complete gentleman. You get to learn that his favorite food is bread. He prefers coffee over tea. He’s very honest and his blunt statements either make you laugh or feel embarrassed.

“Kento, how come you never had a girlfriend?” you asked curiously. “Any girl would be so lucky to have you.” You watched his face turn pink that reached up to the tip of his ears. “Do you like anyone?” The shade turned dark, and you couldn’t help but continue to tease him now. “I bet it’s me, right?” You giggled.

Nanami couldn’t find his voice. His loud, thumping heart washed out the noises around him. He stretched the collar of his shirt, hoping it would help him cool down.

“I-I do like you,” he slowly and quietly answered reluctantly. “For a while now.” You looked at him with big and surprised eyes.

“You-You do?” you asked softly and shyly. Nanami nodded.

“About three years ago.” And that surprised you even more. Nanami is good at keeping his stoic look. He is usually difficult to read, and to this day, you still can’t read how he truly feels.

“I-I never knew that,” you said.

“You haven’t dated anyone too, though,” he said.

“You noticed?” He nodded. “You’re observant.”

“I-I mean, when it comes to you I am.” You couldn’t help but smile. You started to blush, mustering up the courage to say more.

“Would you believe me if I said that I’ve been crushing on you since elementary school?” you asked. This time, it was his turn to stare at you with big, surprised eyes. “Ever since you helped me get my teddy bear back from Mahito in the playground. You sat next to me while I cried. And in middle school, my pencil broke in the middle of an exam and you were the only one that noticed and handed me an extra one. That same day of the exam, I forgot my lunch and you let me have half of your sandwich. My feelings for you grew at that point but you never looked interested.”

“I’m typically good at hiding my expressions.”

“I see that.” The two of you chuckled. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked, finally feeling the confidence to ask the question and at the same time, knowing you would say yes. Your smile said it all.

“I would love to.”

He held your hand as the two of you walked around Tokyo for the rest of the night. And just like always, he remained a gentleman. He made sure you walked away from the streets, gave you his sweater the moment you shivered, and opened the doors for you. By the end of the night, he walked you home, where the two of you shyly hugged.

“Can I do one more thing?” you asked. Nanami nodded. He watched you grow nervous as you bit the bottom of your lip. He watched you slowly look up at him. You stood on your toes, your hands gently on his chest, and lightly kissed his lips. Nanami froze and before he could kiss you back, you pulled away. “Call me when you get home, okay?”

“Okay sweetheart.” You blushed. Nanami chuckled and leaned down, kissing you one last time for the night.

Nanami woke up early. He planned to arrive at your house to surprise you. He wanted to walk with you to school. And, he wanted to meet up to your expectations of him on being the best boyfriend. He wants you to have the best and he wants to be your best.

“Kento!” you exclaimed in surprise, your hair half up and down and a section is curled. “What are you doing here?”

“I, um…” Nerves got to him, leaving him speechless. He cleared his throat. “I wanted to walk with you to school.” A wide smile formed on your face. You opened the door wider for him to enter inside. “Your parents aren’t home?”

“They left early this morning for a business trip,” you answered. “They’re usually away, so I typically get to have the house to myself. Pretty neat, huh?”

“Doesn’t it get lonely?”

“It does, but you won’t let me get lonely. Right Kento?” Nanami blushed. You giggled and kissed his cheek before going up the stairs. He followed you. Your bedroom is brighter, painted a lilac color with light gray and purple bedding. You had a large bookshelf filled with books and a desk with a laptop and cluttered books on top. Along with that, there’s a mirror against the wall. “Get yourself comfortable, Kento! I’m just gonna finish my hair.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Take your time.”

He laid on your bed. It was so soft that he felt like he was on a cloud. His arms rested behind his head as he looked over at you at your desk. He blushed watching you curl your hair. No matter what you do, you were beautiful in his eyes. He smiled. He felt like the luckiest man alive.

“You always had long hair,” he commented.

“I thought you like girls with long hair?” you asked curiously.

“I just like you,” he said. You turned away blushing a deep red, finishing up your hair. Nanami chuckled, watching your reaction from your mirror.

“Well,” you said as you stood up from your chair. You twirled around, your hair flowing with you. “What do you think, Kento?” Nanami stood up and walked towards you. He curled a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Beautiful,” he said. He leaned in and kissed your forehead. “All ready to go now?” You nodded. Nanami took your backpack off the floor and your textbooks that lay on your desk. Both of the backpacks rested on his one shoulder and he used his right arm to carry both of your textbooks. He held his hand out for you when you two reached the front door. “Let’s go.” Happily, you took his hand and left. You playfully swung both of your arms.

“You sure you never had a girlfriend, Kento? Seems like you know what you’re doing,” you asked curiously.

“I watch how my father takes care of my mother,” he said. “And so, I decided that I have to take it up a notch.”

“Your parents raised you well,” you said happily and kissed his hand.

Nerves started to build up within Nanami the closer they were to the school. He was about to let go of your hand, but you held it tighter. Whispers surrounded you two and curiosities filled the students. The females awed at the sight of the two of you but the males gave Nanami a look.

“Really? You chose him over me?” Gojo questioned with a pain expression. You ignored him, dragging Nanami with you to your lockers. “Oh, is my pretty lady playing hard to get? How did nerdy boy do it? Huh?” Gojo was about to hold you, but Nanami was swift and tightly held Gojo’s wrist.

“Don’t touch my girl,” he said. His voice was low, but even you can hear the slight malice in them. Your heart skipped a beat. You were ready to stop Gojo yourself, but your boyfriend beat you to it.

“And you’ll do what? Nerdy boy is gonna cry and beg me to leave her alone?”

“Hey! Quit making fun of him!” you yelled at Gojo, causing eyes of the students to divert to you three. “You’re being such a huge jackass right now. Leave my boyfriend alone. He’s a way better man than you.”

“Oh come on, babe! You never even gave me a chance!”

“I told you, I don’t date just anyone,” you said with your arms crossed. Nanami watched you. Your eyebrows furrowed and your bottom lip jutted out. If that was you angry, he wouldn’t mind making you angry every now and then. All he could think of was just kissing those pouty lips of yours.

Gojo slightly put his sunglasses down, eyeing Nanami. He took one step closer, far enough where you don’t have to intervene.

“I’ve known her since we were in diapers,” Gojo said. “That’s why she tolerates me and I mess with her. And I let her yell at me. Don’t break her heart. I’ll break your goddamn face if you do.” Nanami confidently nodded.

“And stop making him do your homework. Do your own homework. Both you and Suguru. Treat my man with respect,” you said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Give Kento a chance.”

“Yes ma’am.” You smiled and patted Gojo’s head like a well-behaved puppy.

“Good boy.” You then held Nanami’s hand. “Let’s go Kento.”

You let Nanami lead the way and to your surprise, he led you to an empty stairwell. Nanami gently closed the door and brought you into the corner under the stairs. You were about to speak, but Nanami cupped your face and kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back with the same intensity. When Nanami pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “Thank you for defending me.”

“I told you that I tell off the people who aren’t nice to you,” you said. Nanami smiled and kissed your forehead.

“I promise that I’m going to be the best for you. I’ll be a man that you deserve,” he said softly as his gaze never left you and his thumb gently caressed your cheek. “And if you want me to change, I’ll change for you. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

“You’re so sweet Kento,” you said with a smile. “You don’t have to change for me, silly. Just be you. You are the best for me right now.”

Ten years passed. You happily smiled when Nanami made it to the lobby. The two of you finished work, but you stayed the extra hours because you wanted to wait for your boyfriend. He gave you a tired smile and a kiss on the lips as he held you tightly by the waist.

“How’s my favorite girl doing?” he asked.

“Fantastic now that you’re here,” you answered.

“How’s the meeting with my father?” you asked excitedly. The fact that your parents adore Nanami and immediately found him like a son brought a rush of relief to you when he first met them. And once you two went to the same college, they were adamant that he was going to run your parents’ business with you by his side. So now, he’s training under your father.

“Your father is impressed with me,” he said. “So, it definitely went well.” Your smile brightened. Nanami opened the passenger door for you. ‘He never changes,’ you thought happily. Nanami Kento is still the smart and quiet teenage boy you met. But he became a little more outgoing (thanks to Gojo and Geto). His appearance changed from the lean, long blonde hair boy to a masculine man with shorter blonde hair that he likes to part and push back away from his face. He is still a gentleman as ever, if anything, he became sweeter to you over the years if that was even possible.

“I hired Satoru and Suguru,” you said. “That’s okay with you, right?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he said. “They came a long way and proven their worth for the company.” You sighed in relief. “Want to go the café where we confessed each other in high school?”

“Yes please!”

The two of you sat happily by the window. Excitedly, you took a bite of the croissant filled with sweet cream and berries. Your body relaxed while Nanami felt fulfilled to get a bite of his favorite sandwich. “This place has yet to disappoint,” you said. “10 years later, and its just the same as ever.”

“It is our place,” Nanami said softly as he held your hand. You blushed. It definitely was. The two of you would go to the café weekly after school, even during your college days. “Close your eyes.” You eagerly nodded and did. You wonder what he could surprise you with. You didn’t notice anything on him. But when you felt something slide on to your left ring finger, you immediately opened your eyes. Nanami held a nervous look on his face. His cheeks were pink and he shyly avoided your gaze.

Your eyes slowly moved down to your finger and noticed a diamond engagement ring. You couldn’t help but look up at Nanami with tears welding in your eyes.

“Kento,” you whispered.

“I wanted to propose here,” he said. “But there’s a lot of people right now, so I couldn’t go on one knee. But I also got impatient and—” Nanami stopped himself and took a deep breath before looking at you with confidence. “Sweetheart, will you marry me?” A smile spread across your face and you wiped your tears away.

“Yes, Kento. I’ll marry you,” you answered happily. Nanami leaned forwards to cup your face and gave you a quick, passionate kiss. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”.

[goldenfigtree]

Noise Complaint

Summary: AU where Leon Kennedy's first day isn't being attacked by zombies but handling a noise complaint which leads to a... miscommunication on your part

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Fem Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: Okay this is Part 1 of a concept that I thought was pretty humorous. part two here! The Porch Swing.

Feel free to let me know what you think :)

The police car door shut abruptly from the force of Office Kennedy’s arm. Hands dropping to his side, he feels the ground pulse a rhythm beneath him. His eyes scanned the area before they planted on the view of a house, neon lights projecting out of it. He let out a sigh of agitation. 

When he told the chief he was ready to go on patrol this wasn’t exactly what he meant. He figured he’d be doing what he signed up for in the first place. Helping people, not telling partygoers to keep their music down. It was definitely given to him because no one else wanted to do it. Give the rookie the dirty work while the other more experienced officers do the real work. That’s definitely what they did. But hey, he had to start somewhere. With a huff of encouragement to himself, he approaches the house, which is practically vibrating with party music and boisterous laughter, and knocks. 

To no avail.

Tightening his lips, he knocks again.

Still nothing.

He holds up his fist to knock on the door one last time until the door suddenly swings open, revealing you. A red cup in your hand and the other hand gripping for dear life on the door knob as you hold your weight against the door. 

“Heyyyy” you slur, a bubbly giggle trailing behind it. lowering his fist, he hesitantly greets you back, 

“Uh.. hi. I’m here because we received a noise complaint for this locat—“ 

“Oohhh” you interrupt, “that’s right, the noise complaint” in a fit of giggles you smile at him mischievously. For what reason, Leon had no idea. But seeing that you were obviously drunk, he just figured you were just saying things, to say things,

“Right” he gingerly responds, narrowing his eyes at your demeanor, “I’m going to have to ask you to turn down the volume a bit” 

“Uh huh” you say mindlessly before grabbing his wrist and pulling him into the chaotic environment,

“Leslie the stripper is here!” 

“The what?!” Leon exclaims. However you don’t hear him over the loud music and drag him through the crowds of people, “I’m not a stripper!” He yells over the music 

“Yeah I know you’re a stripper! You know you’re actually a half hour late!” You yell back, 

“No, I said I’m not a—“ 

“Leslie! There you are!” Once you find a familiar face wearing a bridal sash, you come to a sudden halt, Leon bumping into you in the process with an annoyed groan, “the stripper is here!” You teasingly say in a sing-song voice. 

While you were fully convinced that officer Kennedy was a stripper, her friend panically glanced between you and him, “um, that’s an actual cop” Leslie says sheepishly. You, still drunk and still brutally honest, turn your head to look at him. Your eyelids lower and lift as you shamelessly check him out, 

“Are you sure? He’s too hot to be a cop” the sentence alone makes the hairs on his arms stand up and all the blood in his body rush to his face. With all the patience he has, he takes a deep inhale and leans forward to speak to Leslie,

“There’s been multiple noise complaints about this party so I suggest you put this party to rest or I will” Leon says loud enough for both you and Leslie to hear. Before you could protest, Leslie swings an arm around you and covers your mouth with her hand. 

“We’ll close it down, sorry about the inconvenience” Leslie says apologetically while you try to wriggle free from her grasp. Begrudgingly, Leon moves his way through the crowd until he finally makes it to the door. Relieved to finally be out of the chaos he sits in his police car and leans his head against the headrest, 

“One hell of a first day” he murmurs to himself. 

—

The next morning was less chaotic than the booming music and the overwhelming smell of alcohol of the night prior. However, against his will, he was reminded of last night by his fellow police officers once he walked in, asking how the patrol went. Not wanting to be the laughing stock of the police station as a cherry on top, he failed to mention the part where you called him a stripper. 

Yeah, he still hasn’t gotten over it. 

After a bit of poking fun, he started his work day with paperwork. Although boring, he’d take filling out forms over being mistaken for stripper anyway. He hoped the mindless work would take his mind off of it. Yet, it only made him dwell even further. The thought of it made him aggressively swish and press his pen tip harder on the paper as he signed his signature in one designated box. 

“Hey Rosa” His head snaps up at the sound of a familiar voice. He couldn’t forget that voice even if he tried. Turning he sees you conversing with the receptionist at the front desk,

“Hey how’s it going?” The receptionist greets 

“The usual, just dropping off lunch for Will” you casually say, holding a paper bag in one hand and a pair of sunglasses in the other. Standing up from his desk, he readies himself to confront you once and for all. One foot after the other, he gets closer and closer to the front desk. However, you’re so enthralled in your conversation with the receptionist that you only look up when he clears his throat. You look at him and politely smile, in which Leon doesn’t return, 

“Hi, I’m Officer Kennedy” 

“New recruit? I don’t think I’ve seen you before” Your polite smile soon drops when you notice Leon giving you an incredulous look. All of a sudden, all the things he was going to say to tell you off fell back into his throat. His tongue felt like it was stuck to the top of his mouth, “Are you okay? You don’t look so good” you ask softly, your eyes filled with concern. 

She doesn’t remember anything from last night? Of course she doesn’t remember she was drunk! What was I thinking?

His mind was spinning. Expecting a careless, bigmouthed partygoer, he is instead met with a nice girl with a pretty smile. How the hell was he going to get out of this without looking like a dumbfound idiot?

Clearing his throat he tries his best to calm his nerves, although it was a bit of a dumpster fire in his mind at the moment, “Do you… need something?” He musters to ask. Flashing a sweet smile again, you lift up the paper bag you were holding, 

“My brother works here, just dropping off his lunch. He always forgets it” 

“Ah.. well it was nice to meet you” Leon weakly greets with a shy grin backing away from the receptionist desk slowly to his own desk.

“You too, see you around” 

And with that, he resumes his paperwork, his mind spinning like a tire rolling from its axel. Not sure what to think anymore when it came to you. Was he supposed to act like nothing happened? He didn’t know if he could. Subconsciously shaking his head free from his dwelling he decides that it’s a problem for another day.

[bookishjules]

"You refuse to leave so they pick u up and throw u over their shoulder" for percabeth maybe ??

Percy pulled out his phone as he turned onto Bleeker Street.

just got off the train, he texted Piper.

His phone vibrated with a response almost immediately. good. i think yr gfs about to commit a felony.

-oh now she's my gf

-she was always your gf

-except every other day when you call her your gf

-stop texting and walking, pc. you'll run into a lamppost

Percy rolled his eyes, locked his phone, and tucked it into his jacket pocket. He hadn't even known the girls were going out tonight before getting the distress signal from Piper. SOS, she'd said. in need of your strength and percy-ness ASAP, followed by the name of a bar on the Lower East Side. So here Percy was.

The crowds and music mingled in the street, making the chilly November night feel warmer than it was. Percy navigated through the chaos, passing people who seemed all too convinced that the night really was warm--all sparkly rompers and thin t-shirts, likely covered by invisible layers of alcohol--until he recognized the name he was looking for on a chalkboard sign that was folded like an easel out front of a busy bar. The sign also had the words "Ladies Night!" written in bright letters on it, which definitely gave a bit of context to Piper's SOS.

If he hadn't already made sure Annabeth wasn't dying, Percy would be charging though the front doors and into the throngs, demanding to see her. As it was, he pulled his worn leather wallet from his pocket, slid his New York driver's license from its sheath, and calmly showed it to the bouncer.

He really had no idea what situation he was about to walk in to, and clubs like this were already far from his scene, so he figured the extra seconds of steeling himself wouldn't hurt anyone.

Percy was already debating that assessment when he was met, not two steps into the building, by Piper.

"Where have you been?" she demanded. Percy couldn't tell if her volume was directed especially at him or if it was mere functionality. Speakers somewhere were playing a beat so loud, he couldn't even decipher which song it belonged to, just the constant thrumming in his ears and beneath his sneakers.

"I literally just texted you," Percy yelled back.

Piper rolled her eyes and grabbed his wrist, dragging him further into the bar and dodging people and their wayward drinks with admirable skill.

Eventually, she came to a stop near the back of the room and pulled Percy up beside her. They had emerged into a somehow calmer pocket in the back, and in front of them was a terror in a dark gray crop top and blue jeans, sitting with her arms crossed, on top of the bar.

Oh dear gods, Percy thought. "Annabeth."

She took a break from her stubborn glare to glance over at him. "Percy. What're you doing here?" Her words were slurring together, but she still managed to thread all of her bad mood through them.

Percy looked to Piper, who just shook her head and shrugged haphazardly. "She's been like this for over an hour."

"Annabeth," Percy said again, taking a step toward her.

She stuck her foot out to stop him, and Percy looked down to where her dirty boot was set against his stomach. He muttered, "The shoe? Really?"

"If you're here to take me away, don't even think about it. This is a protest."

"Oh thank God," a gruff voice from behind the counter said. "Please get her out of here."

Annabeth turned and glared at the bartender. "Excuse you. I am right here."

"Believe me, I am very aware," the bartender growled, then continued on to Percy. "I would've already called security, but they have bigger issues to deal with than a girl quietly disrupting the quietest part of the bar. Plus, it seems that kinda fight is exactly what she's looking for."

"I'll get her out of here. Sorry about this," Percy said to the bartender, still not entirely sure what he was apologizing for.

Then he turned to Annabeth. "Sorry about this," he said, quieter, knowing exactly what he was apologizing for.

He tucked his left arm under the leg that was still protruding from his chest and spun it out of the way, catching Annabeth off guard and unbalancing her enough for Percy to lean forward and lift her off the bar like a sack of potatoes.

If she hadn't been intoxicated, Annabeth never would have let him pull that off. But she was, and Percy wasn't going to not take advantage of her slower reflexes in this moment. That didn't stop her from pounding on his back with her fists, though, or yelling profanities at him and Piper and the bartender.

Heads turned as they made their way through the bar. Some turned away with a laugh or an annoyed roll of their eyes, others turned toward the scene they with curiosity or concern. Percy met their glances with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. No nefarious plans here! Promise!

Within a few minutes, Piper was able to guide them out of the bar and onto the sidewalk, which seemed admittedly less bustling in comparison.

When the bouncer spotted Annabeth still draped over Percy's shoulder, still protesting loudly, an amused smile cut across his face. "Have a good night, kids." And with that, they made their way down the block.

"So what exactly happened?" he asked Piper. he felt Annabeth fold her arms against his back, as if in one final harumph of protest.

Piper recounted what she could remember, but that wasn't saying much, considering she was nearly as drunk as Annabeth was and had been flitting around the bar too much to know any details.

The three of them reached the end of the block without another sound or struggle from Annabeth, so Percy figured it should be safe to set her down. Immediately after her feet hit the ground, though, her lips turned down even further than they had before. Her angry grimace seemed to have mostly dissipated into the cold air, but only for it to be replaced by a sad pout.

"Why did you put me down?" she whined.

"Yeah Percy, why did you put her down?" Piper cut in. He wasn't even sure she knew why she was defending Annabeth, just that it was her responsibility to.

Percy rolled his eyes. "What, do you want to be carried all the way back to your apartment?"

Annabeth nodded seriously. There was no use fighting at this point, so Percy spun around and let her climb on his back. When he turned back to Piper, he saw a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"No. Piper, I can't carry you both."

"Weak," she said, before spinning on her heel and stepping out onto the crosswalk.

It was a fifteen minute walk back to the girls' apartment. Piper chattered the whole whole way, recounting her own adventures from the night.

Annabeth didn't bother to chime in, instead keeping her head buried against Percy's neck. He was glad Piper had called him, glad for the excuse to come downtown and make sure his girlfriend got home safe, even if he was going to feel it in his back and shoulders for the next few days.

By the time they reached the apartment, Annabeth was fast asleep.

[blueberrywhale123]

And have you heard Jorge's solo music? He has a bunch of solo songs from 2017 till 2021. It would be great if you hear them and analyse them

Once again, never really thought to look into it. I did listen to a lot of them on my commute tho. I liked a good amount but I don’t listen to music with cursing and sex so I steered clear of those and will not be using them in this analysis because I didn’t listen to them🤣

I didn’t organize this very well so sorry if it’s hard to sort out. Also if you see anything in need of correcting PLEASE do so!

Now for the analyzing *cracks knuckles*

In most of his songs, he usually in his tessitura which is the range which someone can sing comfortably. This is usually in his mixed voice (mixture of head and chest) middle register, he’s here a lot for his choruses.

For some songs, like Conmigo, he starts off his verses in his chest voice near the very end of his tessitura (around C3) but there are moments when he goes lower than that and you can hear the rumble in his voice as he is digging for that low note. Once he goes back up into his mixed voice, that bright pingy tenor quality comes back full force. He transitions between his chest and mixed voice well, no sour notes or straining so everything is in the mask. The mask is super important y’all, like, it’s vital so I’ll mention it every time😂

His vocals had great dexterity and flexibility in these songs; he’s in his chest, middle, and head voice while pulling out strong belts, breathy falsettos, and all with very good breath control. I haven’t figure out what note he’s hitting in Escondida for the doubling on the chorus but it’s nice.

I really like the bright and sweet way he sings Me Voy Contigo. His chest, mixed, and head voice are nice and without any kind of rasp or the like and by keeping it simple, you can hear his voice clearly without distractions which I like. That’s more my opinion than an analysis tho. In Bésame Mucho which he did for Coco, Jorge does a good job in showcasing his different registers too. He starts in his chest, steps into his mixed, up to his head and back down like a pyramid. There is some belting but more soft falsettos. It’s a very smooth song too, almost like a crooner I want to say. His control is very good, he keeps a tight rein on his voice and runs so there’s no sour notes or flats. This goes for his other songs too.

I was kinda shocked when I pulled it up but his song from Cars 3 Drive my Car is a good example of the control and flexibility because he is jumping all over the place and to some very high notes too. Plus when singing this type of loud style, he’s not screechy which can happen with tenors. That smooth quality to his voice is replaced with a raspy rockish sound.

His belting is still great, very powerful and clear. His breath control is strong for this because sustaining those notes needs A LOT of air. Honestly, breath is the key to nearly all feats in singing; without a strong diaphragm and knowing when in your singing to catch a breath, you’re not going to get the sound and volume you want and you’ll go flat. So Jorge has a wonderful grasp of this. He’s got all his sound pulled into his mask instead of in his throat so you don’t have a trapped sound and he’s not straining.

Now I tried my hand at mapping out some of the notes that he hits in different songs that really impressed me. This is hard so I can’t promise it’s perfect.

In Opciones he hit a D5 in his head voice and the transition up to it was seamless. He was in the upper part of his register at E4, F4, G4 and jumped to the D5 then to C5. (Please don’t ever expect a detailed map out, this alone took me a while cuz I was squeezing it in between a bunch of other stuff🤪).

In Te la dedico he went up to D5 again, then hopped down a few steps to the B4 and A4. But the biggest shock was near the end for his last big chorus after he sang it in his falsetto. His vocalizing went roughly like this: B4, D5, E5, to G#5(!) if I’m not mistaken. And this was not sung in a falsetto y’all. I’m not a professional- as I have said before so I could be wrong. But I thought it was too cool not to share.

And this ends my analysis of Jorge Blanco’s singles. This kinda feels all over the place, sorry.

[blurblicalscripture]

my shy girl

warnings/ SMUTTTTT, weed, unprotected sex (don't fucking do itttt)

pairing/ eddiemunsonxshy!fem!reader

summary/ y/n likes eddie. eddie likes y/n. she's too shy to make the first move, he's too oblivious to make the first move. like most things in eddie's life, [the purchasing of] weed ends up being the solution to the problem

The picnic bench wobbles as you bounce your leg, only steadying as he sits down across from you. "Ah, my favourite customer."

Your palm is sweaty from the bundled up cash you're holding. You squeak out a "Hey."

"So, the usual?" he chirps, digging through for the little baggie. You hum out a "mhmm." You aren't interested in the weed at all as your eyes wander to Eddie. You enjoy the clink of his rings against the metal box, song-like.

A hand waves in front of you. "Earth to y/n?" He lilts.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. What?" You shake your head, still a little fuzzy.

He huffs a laugh. "I said that's twenty five, if you would be so kind." He holds the bag out to you in one hand, his other an open palm, elbows on the table. You flatten out the cash, hand it to him.

It should be thirty. He knows, you know. But you can't argue this with him again. You've lost count of how many times you had lost that battle. "You're my most loyal customer, y/n." He'd say. "It's only fair."

He clasps it in his palm, theatrical. "Pleasure doing business with ya," he says, shoving the cash in his little box and beginning to stand.

"English!" you blurt, a hand coming straight to your cheek. You sort of yelled, but it's Eddie, and he isn't exactly jarred by weird.

"English." He repeats, his tone a lullaby compared to yours. He lowers back on the bench. "What about it?"

"Uh, the english project." You swallow. "I heard that you could use some help."

He taps a finger on his lips, feigned thinking, eyes wandering to the sky above. "That I could."

"Well you obviously don't have to but if you want we can work on it at my house and my parents aren't at home and it'll be quiet. But it's up to you cause I'm sure you have better things—"

He waves his hands. "Y/n." You look at him and shut up, eyes wide. "That sounds good." He draws out the words, slow and measured, as if to reassure you. "I have my van if you want a ride." He points his thumb toward the parking lot, the corners of his lips quirked up softly.

"Yeah, okay." You smile gingerly, grabbing your books. "Did you maybe want to get your textbook from your locker first?"

He chuckles, keeps walking to the van. "I uh, I don't exactly have a textbook for this class. Or any class."

"Oh, right. Well you can use mine if you want."

He stops at the van "Ever so kind, y/n." and opens the passenger door for you.

His van is comfy, same as always. He plays music that's a little loud—not too much, but it makes you feel lively, the bass and drums in your chest—and you even find yourself singing along.

He turns down the volume, Paranoid fades into the background. "You like Black Sabbath? How am I only finding this out now?"

"Oh, um, yeah, and my dad likes 'em too. Paranoid is like one of my favourite albums." You fish in your bag and pull out a cassette tape. "I made this new mix a couple weeks ago actually."

He takes it from your hand, glancing between it and the road. You tense at that, fingers digging into the leather of the seat, but he keeps driving smoothly. He runs his thumb over the neat handwriting.

"Mötley Crüe, Iron Maiden and Metallica! Shit, y/n, I think I've met my match."

"Your partner in crime," you quip.

"The Bonnie to my Clyde."

You both giggle at that. "Don't tell me you're a burglar now. We're going to my house!"

He chuckles. "Speaking of which it's this way, yeah?"

"Almost. Next turn in." You point to the entryway.

"Right, right. I was a little high the last time I was here." He says.

"A little?" You scoff. "You ran over my mom's rhododendrons. I had to tell her it was the neighbour's dog."

"I'll get her new flowers," he huffs.

"No, you won't."

"No, I won't." He's grinning like an idiot.

You room isn't terribly messy but you scramble to shove the pens, books and notebooks off your bed and onto the desk. He has given you a ride home before but never dared enter. You never dared to ask him in.

"Sorry, I was up studying last night," you murmur as you neaten up. There are a couple cans of red bull on the pillow and you sweep them into the little trash bin. You opt to leave the cassettes and walkman on the bed.

"I would say I get what you mean but I'm not exactly renowned for my studious tendencies." He glances over at the books like they're written in another language. "But I have had my fair share of all-nighters."

"Playing at The Hideout until dawn then passing out in your van after does not count." You joke. He laughs and your stomach jumps.

"Right. So, where do we start with this project." He moves over to the bed, sitting close as you flip through the textbook. Your thighs touch.

"Well, we have to argue here that Othello's downfall is his own fault, not Iago's." You point out each character, explaining with your hands. He watches closely.

"And on the other hand we have to argue that Desdemona isn't as innocent as people assume she is. Then we tie both arguments together to explain the tragedy."

"Ok. Lead the way." He says.

About two hours later you're surrounded by half-eaten snacks, more empty Redbulls and a stack of various tapes.

"This Othello guy, he really loves that Desdemaria."

"It's Desdemona. And loves?" You drop the flash cards onto the bed. "He literally kills her." You chuckle.

"Well, yeah, but only cause he was so mad that she betrayed him." His tone is light, as if he's still pondering. "And he did it to redeem her, you know, so she could go to heaven or whatever. That's kind of love, right?" He rests his chin on his palm, knees crossed up on the bed.

"That's kind of beautiful, Eds. And brilliant. Write that down," you order, gesturing with a pen. He can't help his laugh, murmuring a subtle 'okay bossy.'

"What was that?"

"Nothingggg," he drawls, scribbling down the note. "Now, this is officially the longest I have ever sat down and worked so I think it's time for a break."

He gets up before you can stop him and walks over to the shelf with books, CDs, cassettes; all of your junk.

"This is cute," he says, holding up a framed photo of you and a sad looking, very wet cat. "Yellow galoshes were very in back then."

"Totally, but Bat wasn't a big fan of the rain. Hated getting his ears wet."

"Bat?" He sets back down the frame ever so gently. "Interesting name for a kitty." You continue to speak as he looks through the book titles, nerves in your stomach mixed with some other warm feeling. There's something intimate about having Eddie look around your room.

"I couldn't say my Cs when I was little." You laugh. "He kind of suited it though. He had little flabby bits under his arms that looked like wings." You gesture to your underarm, jiggle it a little. He chuckles.

"There's a cat just like that living under my trailer." He scans the highest shelf as he speaks, balanced on his toes. "I just call her Mews though. Sometimes she'll come up and— wait, what is this?"

You startle off the bed, terrified of what he has found. "Oh, God, what?"

He holds out a sizeable bag of weed.

"Oh, I-" you start.

"If you needed me to teach you how to roll up you should have just asked," he says, fishing for some papers in his pocket. "Can't believe you've been buying from me all this time and haven't smoked any of it." He's shaking his head but smiling nonetheless.

"Oh, it's okay, Eddie. I...I don't smoke." You place a palm over his hands, stop him from peeling open the bag. Suddenly you feel overwhelmingly guilty, your voice gets smaller. "You can have it back if you want. Sorry if I wasted your time." You stare at your shoes.

He puts the bag on the shelf. "You could never." You look at him now, his eyes honeyed brown. "Like I said, you're my favourite customer, but that's not cause you bought so much weed." He's grinning, laughing airily. "Like, a ridiculous amount of weed. But really. You're great to talk to, y'know."

"Really?"

"Sure thing. That, and the fact that you look real pretty when we do talk. You get all flustered and shy." He's smirking.

"Shut up." You shove his arm. "Let's finish this dumb project."

You sit a little closer now, knees crossed under you both and nearly touching as you swap pages of notes to read. But none of it is going in. The words are buzzing on your tongue.

"Eddie?"

He looks up at you.

"I like to talk to you, too."

He shuffled closer, your knees touch. The cutouts on his jeans line up just right; you're skin to skin.

"That's good to know," he drawls, shit eating smirk plastered across both cheeks that fades as fast as it had appeared. "But wait, why the weed?"

You flush from the neck upwards. "Didn't know how else to talk to you," you mumble, but he hears you. "It's also why I kept coming to the Hideout."

"Ohhh, see now that makes sense. Lovely thing like you doesn't belong in that dump." His fingers play with the straggly bits of his ripped jeans, knuckles brushing your knee. He moves his hand up, barely grazing your thigh. "I can't believe you did all that just to talk to me."

You cover your eyes with your fingertips, press hard. "It's dumb, I know," you say. But he doesn't think so.

Eddie takes your wrists, slides his hands up so his palms are against yours. His fingers are warm, calloused and smooth.

"It's not. It's really not." He says, leaning forward.

You whisper "Eddie." And close your eyes.

"Tell me to stop and I'll stop."

You press your lips to his. They're wet, plump from his nibbling. Your hands come to the nape of his neck, hold onto the hair tight. He shudders, pulls back.

"Have you done anything like this before?" His voice is achingly soft, a little higher than you expect. His fingers come to hold your face, thumbs pressed into the space under your eye. You could laugh, cry, shout into the pillows.

"Uh, not with anybody. I tried by myself before but I couldn't figure out how to..." you trail off.

"That's okay. You want to?"

You nod.

"Words please, shy girl," his thumb swipes over your lip.

"Yes, Eddie. Yes."

His hands move to the hem of your shirt. "Can I?" He waits. You lift your arms over your head.

Your bra has a little pink bow right at the centre, but the lining is black. He's hard already. "This just for me?" he asks.

"Uh, kind of," you're smiling a little through the words. "Wear stuff like this normally anyway though. It's soft, see." You, ever so innocent, bring his hand up to feel the band under your arm, just before the cup.

"It is. You're beautiful, though. Don't need this thing." His hands slide back to the clasp. "Can I?"

You breathe out a "yeah."

Not long after he's between your legs and similarly in a state of undress, his tongue flicking at your clit, just one finger working your pulpy walls open but it has you keening.

Your skin is balmy, hands resting on your ribs as you watch him over your rising and falling chest. "Can you cum for me, pretty girl? It'll be easier if you cum first," he says, "if you want to do that part today." He pauses and you whine.

"Yes, please. P-please, Eddie, don't stop." Your hands find his hair, scratching at his scalp. Your back arches up as he adds another finger, cooing at your little sounds of pleasure.

"Such a good girl, gonna give it to me now, yeah?" He sucks harsh on the bead of your clit, tongue pressed flat against it inside his mouth.

"Yes, Eddie, I-ah!" You moan, high in the back of your throat, breaths heavy and quick. Your legs shudder, closing on his head, and he laughs into your cunt, pushing one thigh back out with his free hand.

"Fuck, babydoll, there you are. That's it," he praises as he lays off your clit when you squeal, still gently stroking his fingers up, up, up inside your fluttering walls.

You clasp his cheeks between your hands, bring him up to your face. You're still a little breathless when you ask for a kiss. He happily gives it to you.

Against his lips you plead "Eddie, I want you inside, please. 'M ready now, promise."

He's scooping you up then, both arms steady around your back, and puts you in his lap. Your legs are spread over his, though he's still in his boxers and you tug at the band.

"Off, please."

"So needy. Who knew my shy girl had it in her, hmm?" You do your best to hover over him on shakey legs as he shuffles the boxers off, wiggles them down his legs.

"You ok to be on top? Want you to go at your own pace," he says, hands firm on your waist. You nod at him, baby hairs stuck to your wet forehead.

His eyes are soft, caring, something akin to adoration glimmering in them. "It's probably gonna hurt a little, okay, but not for long. You want to stop at all and we stop, okay? Don't try keep going, even for me."

You press your fingers into the back of his neck, interlocked. "I trust you, Eddie." You rest on his shoulder, suckle at his neck. You love the little purple hues left behind.

You go to move, hesitate. "Can you-I'm not sure how to..."

"Sh, it's okay, I'll talk you through it. Just sit up on your knees for a sec, okay." He takes one hand off your waist, lines himself up. Feeling his head swipe up and down your slit has your knees already buckling. His grip on your flesh tightens.

"Ok. Now, slowly, sit down and take whatever you can. Doing so good for me." He kisses your cheek.

You look down and watch as you lower yourself, knees a little creaky. The second his tip breaches your entrance you yelp, a sharp pinch that had you squeezing your eyes shut.

"You're okay, breathe for me, gorgeous," Eddie says, both hands now on your hips, holding you steady. You heave a breath, sink down more and more.

You relax as the full feeling of Eddie being inside you takes over. He feels heavy inside you, not too thick but enough that your walls can pleasantly squeeze around him.

He's groaning the whole time, lips on your temple murmuring praises into the skin. The second you're fully seated you both gasp, the stretch and depth of him becoming comfortable inside you.

"Shit, you feel perfect inside. So soft and warm." He lets out little grunts, trying to stay as still as he can. You rock your hips forward, clit catching his pubic bone.

"Ah, Eddie! Fuck. So deep." You keep up the rocking, little moans at the beginning of each breath. Eddie's mouth drinks them down.

You stop for a second, walls clenching tight around him. "Is-does it feel ok for you?"

"Yeah, it's better than I could ever even imagine, babe." He brushes hair off your forehead. You wanna try something else?" He moves his hands to your back, slides down to hold the back of your thighs. "Try bounce a little, okay?"

You do as you're told, the drag of his cock along your walls is heavenly. He hisses between his teeth. "Shit, that's it, that's really fucking good, babe."

You lean back on your knees for better leverage and suddenly he's hitting your sweet spot every single time. You nearly scream, clamping a hand over your mouth. Eddie is quick to hold your wrist.

"Nuh uh, lovely girl, want you to make some of those wicked little sounds for me, yeah?" He places two fingers on your clit, pressing down and rubbing quick.

"Oh, Eddie, I think I'm gonna—oh fuck!" You bounce down hard and heavy on his cock as you cum, grip like a vice around him. He laughs underneath you, a sound of pure joy. "Shit, that's fucking insane," he pants.

You nearly slump forward on him but he pushes you back instead, guiding you to lay down. He pulls out slow as you whimper, using your wetness to pump himself hard and fast. "Where'd you want me, pretty?"

Looking up at him with doe eyes you draw circles on your tummy with your fingertip. "Here, Eds, cum for me right here please?"

His eyes screw shut. "Ah-shit." It feels warm and wet on your stomach. You press a fingertip into the hot spurts, bring it to your tongue. Your eyes flutter shut and Eddie groans.

"You're full of surprises, y'know that." He collapses beside you, pulling you in close. "Beautiful, beautiful girl."

"Can I? Be your girl?" you ask, fingertips dancing up his arm.

"Course you can." He whispers into the shell of your ear "My wicked, shy girl."

Sorry that was LONGGGG but I hope u enjoy.

[delaber]

The Worst Time of the Year (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Part 1

Summary: According to Bucky, Christmas is the worst time of the year. He hates everything about it - well everything apart from one thing: you.

Words: 1.8K

Note: Pure fluff! This story will be in four parts. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

To everyone in the compound, it was a well-known fact that Bucky Barnes hated Christmas. Hated the stupid decorations that you and Wanda always put on every flat surface around the compound, the huge Christmas tree that took up most of the space in the common area, the glitter he had to comb out of his beard even weeks after everything had been put back into boxes. The list was long and elaborate, yet still, what Bucky hated most about Christmas was without a doubt the same songs on repeat year after year after year after year. It was the same songs he'd listened to in his childhood, in his youth, as a young soldier, and now - almost a century later too - as disco remixes and re-recordings in peppy voices and as acapella versions.

So, when he woke up in the middle of the night to an annoyingly loud version of Jingle Bells clanging its way through the walls of his room, it didn't even take him ten seconds to channel his inner grinch. At first, he tried to ignore the ringing music, but not even the pillow he'd pulled over his head was enough to drown out the cacophony of clanging bells coming from the kitchen next door, and he quickly realised that there was nothing for him to do than just wait for the infernal noise to stop. With his metal fingers drumming impatiently against the mattress of his bed, Bucky waited an eternity for the most overplayed song in existence to be over, but when the bells finally faded and his room grew wonderfully quiet again, the silence only lasted a couple of seconds before it was replaced by a jazzy version of White Christmas.

"Wanda!" He banged the wall loudly when he realised it wasn't just a one-song concert he was being held hostage to, "turn it down! I'm trying to sleep in here!" He waited a couple of seconds for the music to stop, but nothing happened. "Wanda!" He tried again, but still; the voice of Bing Crosby remained at the same volume. "You've got to be kidding me!" He stumbled out of bed and yanked on a t-shirt along with his plaid pyjama pants, marching out of his room to give Wanda a piece of his mind.

"Wanda, I am trying to sleep!" he barked as he kicked open the door to the kitchen where you gave out a little yelp and a frightened jump at the sudden intrusion. You were standing alone by the stove, brandishing a wooden spoon as if it was a knife, breathing hard and looking at him with huge, round eyes.

“Jesus Christ! You scared me!" You carefully lowered your improvised weapon and started chuckling in relief. "Hey Buck," you turned down the loud music and nodded towards his legs, "nice pants!"

"Uh - hi… Likewise," he mumbled and gestured to your candy cane pyjamas, a bit embarrassed that he had just yelled at the only person in the compound he never could get mad at. "I - uhm - I thought you were Wanda," he grinned sheepishly, careful not to let his eyes wander down your bare legs, "- saw her decorating the place earlier..."

"Oh, she did such an amazing job!" you happily gazed around at the horrible winter wonderland that the kitchen had turned into since last Bucky had stepped foot inside. "It looks beautiful, doesn’t it?"

"...Not really sure that's the first word I'd use to describe it," he chuckled and gently flicked a piece of tinsel hanging from the ceiling as he took a seat at the kitchen table.

"Pretend all you want Barnes, but I know you love Christmas deep down," you winked and waved the wooden spoon at him before turning to a steaming pot on the stove. "I'm sorry I woke you up. I honestly didn't think anyone could hear me through the armoured walls - and especially not enough to come barging in guns blazing," you chuckled happily, and it made Bucky's cheeks go warm from embarrassment, "thank God it wasn't Banner on the other side, or I would've been limbless by now!"

"Yeah, sorry about that," Bucky mumbled, rubbing his neck, "it's the advanced hearing-thing..."

"Ah shit! Sorry, I keep forgetting!"

"Don't worry about it," he waved a hand in front of his slightly flustered face, smiling softly at you. He liked how you often forgot about his traumatic past. It made him feel normal. "What are you doing up anyway?"

"Couldn't sleep," you groaned while stirring the pot on the stove, "sometimes warm milk helps... You want some?"

"Sure," he nodded eagerly, glad to have an excuse to stay a little longer in your company.

"- or... since you're up-" you smiled mysteriously and Bucky couldn't help but lean closer to you, immediately intrigued. "- how about we do something naughty?" you half-whispered while wriggling your eyebrows.

"Something naughty?" He chuckled awkwardly, already picturing you naked on the kitchen table, your cute little pyjamas crinkled on the floor. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"- we could make hot chocolate,” you winked, and Bucky couldn't hold back the laugh that blossomed in his chest.

"Okay, I have to admit," he laughed whole-heartedly, "not what I thought you were gonna suggest."

"...and what exactly did you think I was going to suggest, Barnes?" You arched an eyebrow, the corners of your mouth turning upwards in a smirk, "Irish Coffee?"

"Well," Bucky chuckled, tilting his head from side to side, "something like that."

"Thought so," you winked at him again, "but I'm afraid we're all out of whisky. Hot chocolate will have to make do. How strong do you like yours?"

Bucky was immediately taken back to his shabby childhood, "uhm, I don't know. I don't think I've ever actually tried it," he said quietly.

A look of horror flashed over your face, "you've never what? How? Not even as a child?"

"I grew up poor in the twenties, sweetheart," he laughed, "I never even had the chance."

"Well, how about as an adult? You must've been offered it at least!"

"No, you're right, Hydra served hot chocolate to me all the time while I was held captive in Siberia," he said sarcastically with a large grin on his face, "- and now Loki makes it for me after every mission."

"Oh, shut up," you laughed loudly and it made Bucky's stomach go all warm with triumph. "Well brace yourself," you whisked in a mountain of cocoa powder before looking back up at him, "I make the best hot chocolate in town! The secret is whisking in marshmallows before adding them on top too - makes it so thick and sweet that the angels are singing!"

"Actually," he cleared his throat, "I don't really like sugar."

You froze shortly before your charming smile slowly spread on your face again, "you're kidding me, right?"

"Wish I was!" He took in your gleaming eyes.

"So you hate Christmas, and you don't like sugar," you laughed, "tell me, Barnes," you leaned in over the table and put your chin in your hands, examining his face, "what do you like?"

Your laugh. Your eyes. You.

"I like sitting here with you," he admitted and inhaled the sweet scent of your flowery shampoo, "- and lavender." Carefully, he watched the effects of his quiet words and saw how your gaze flickered shortly between his eyes and lips, tongue briefly showing between your teeth before you closed your mouth again and sheepishly smiled at him.

"Well... in a bit, you can add my hot chocolate to that list," you smiled, "Steve was sceptical too, but I managed to convince him without too much hassle," you chuckled sweetly, your gaze averting his eyes.

Although Bucky knew it was uncalled for, a small pang of jealousy still hit him square in the stomach when he thought of you and Steve all cuddled up under layers of blankets while laughing, and touching, and drinking hot chocolate together. "Okay," he ended up nodding, his cheeks aflame, "I'll give it a go."

"All I'm asking for," you smiled and fixed a ladle from the drawer, using it to pour two mugs of steaming hot chocolate that you topped with a generous amount of marshmallows. "Come on, I have an idea," you grabbed the mugs and used your back to push open the door to the living room.

Bucky happily followed you, helping you hold the door open as you slid through. "What are we doing?" He asked curiously as you put down the two mugs in the windowsill.

"You'll see," you shrugged mysteriously, "help me move this," you lifted one end of the heavy love seat with a tiring grunt, looking at him with anticipation on your face. You looked so cute that Bucky didn't have it in him to tell you that he could do it with one hand alone, so he just grabbed the other end of the sofa with a feigned grunt and helped you turn it 180 degrees, so the front was facing the bay window overlooking the snow-covered garden.

"Sit down," you smiled at him and handed him the two mugs of chocolate, "I want to show you something."

Bucky grabbed the mugs from your hands and carefully watched as you unfolded a blanket and draped it over his thighs before you sat down next to him, snuggling under the other half of the blanket before pulling out your phone.

"What are you doing?" He looked you over your shoulder, using his curiousness as an excuse to move even closer to you.

"Look outside," you elbowed him with a laugh.

"It's pitch black...?"

"Just keep your eyes on the garden," you smiled with your nose buried in your phone, when suddenly, Silent Night started playing over the speakers in the corner of the room.

"More Christmas songs?" Bucky theatrically threw his head backwards with a groan.

"Just keep looking outside, you grinch," you laughed, "there's a meaning behind the madness."

"You better be right," Bucky sighed playfully and obediently followed your orders.

"Are you ready?"

"Sure," Bucky shrugged, not really sure what to prepare himself for.

"Okay - one, two, three," you counted excitedly and pressed a button on your phone.

Immediately, the entire garden outside was lit up by small stringed lights that were stretched out from the pines at the end of the lawn to the deck at the front. Elegantly, you and Wanda had wrapped every single shrub, tree, and bush that were now glowing happily underneath the thin layer of snow that was still falling quietly from the night sky.

"Wow," Bucky breathed as he took in the beauty of it, "this is... this is nice," he marvelled at the many lights that together with the music filled him with a deep sense of tranquillity.

"I knew you'd like it," you grabbed one of the mugs from his hands and snuggled up against his chest. "This is real nice," you whispered and Bucky's heart almost burst at the sensation. "Merry Christmas, Buck."

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," he mumbled back and pressed your body closer to his chest.

Maybe Christmas wasn't so bad after all.

Next part

Fanart of Bucky in plaid pyjama pants

tagging: @elemenohpe @summerofsnowflakes @theselilwonders

[cafedanslanuit]

♡   —   pairing: kazutora x reader

♡   —   summary: after a long day at work, you want nothing but to spend a calm night with your boyfriend. however, you have no idea this is the night were all his demons finally get the best of him.

♡   —   tags/warnings: female reader, angst, breakups, hurt feelings everywhere, mention on mental illnesses and nightmares, based on ben platt’s song ‘carefully’, mention of tora’s job in one of the future timelines.

♡   —   a/n: i enjoyed writing kazutora so. damn. much. also, i’m quite proud of this one and the small details i added~ thank you @ofoceansandtombstones​​ for being my lovely beta <3

♡   —  masterlist

And all this time you've had a gentle way of holding me

So could you please release me that way too?

— “carefully” by Ben Platt

“It’s open, come in!”

The first thing Kazutora sees when he opens the door of your apartment is you, kneeling on the kitchen floor and picking up pieces of a broken baking dish. Red sauce has splattered everywhere and his mind betrays him for a second, imagining an accident far worse than what has truly happened. He blinks twice and starts to notice the small details that finally slow down the fast beating of his heart. There are pieces of chicken breasts next to the open oven door and what he thinks are sliced carrots next to your right knee.

You hiss when you pick up a piece of the shattered glass, the sharp end pinching your finger. Kazutora comes back to his senses, widening his eyes as he realizes he’s just been standing there.

“Hey, let me. You’ll cut yourself,” he warns, walking up to you. Grabbing both your hands, he eases you into your feet and then guides you to the living room. “I’ll take care of it,” he promises as he goes back to the kitchen and starts cleaning up the mess.

You let yourself fall on the sofa with a loud thud and let out an exasperated sigh.

“I just had the most awful day,” you whine, taking off your apron and leaving it on the arm of the sofa.  “Work was hell, I got scolded by something that I didn’t do— like always, only this time my boss was all like: ‘You gotta be more careful, we wouldn’t want to lose such a valuable employee’. Like he was going to fire me over someone else’s mistake?!”

Your voice is getting louder by the minute and you take advantage of the fact Kazutora is in another room to keep the volume. You have been waiting the entire day to see him and vent about what a trainwreck you day had been. Just as always, he listens intently, the only noise coming from the kitchen being a soft scraping sound as he picks up everything and throws it to the trash. 

“Then, I went to the store and of course they had run out of basil. Tell me, how does a store that big run out of basil?” you ask. There’s no answer from the kitchen so you continue. “I mean, yeah, I could have gone to another store but my feet were killing me. I’m just not meant to work in heels the entire day,” you sigh tiredly, swinging your feet.

You reposition yourself, now sitting cross-legged on the sofa. Putting your right hand on your left shoulder, you stretch your neck, feeling your sore muscles releasing a bit of tension with a small ‘pop’.

“I ended up preparing something entirely different than I had planned for dinner. I tried to let it go but just as I was going to put it in the oven, it slipped my hands and—”

“I think we should break up.”

Words die in your lips the moment you listen to your boyfriend speak. The silence becomes loud and abrasive as you struggle to understand what was happening. Why was Kazutora breaking up with you with such a small voice? What had triggered him to come to that conclusion? Why had he decided to bring it up now? You turn your head to the kitchen door and watch him slowly make his way towards you, doubtful steps as he takes a seat on the other side of the sofa, avoiding your eyes at all costs.

“What?” you ask, your voice hoarse. His lips form a tight line and you see him swallowing nervously.

“I’m not doing okay— haven’t been for a while. I— it’s been two years since I left prison and I still haven’t— I don’t— I don’t know what I’m doing,” he explains, looking down at his hands.

You nod slowly, trying to comprehend where he’s coming from. Turning your body towards him, you take a deep breath before speaking.

“It’s okay not to know,” you assure him in a soft voice. “Just… take it slow. One day at a time and then I’m sure you’ll—”

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” Kazutora confesses and you notice his voice wavering a little. “I— I keep having nightmares about— about that day and— and also about the motorcycle shop. Those two mix up and…” he takes one of his hands to the side of his head, his fingers grazing his temple. “And I’m hitting Baji in the head. And there’s so much blood— so, so much blood and—”

Leaning forward, you take his hands. They’re shaking and extremely cold and you rub your thumb over his knuckles, trying your best to soothe him.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now, Tora, you’re—”

Kazutora pulls his hands away hastily, leaving a tingling sensation on your palms.

“I can’t!” he says as he shakes his head. You spend a moment looking at your empty hands, never before having felt your boyfriend’s rejection. “I feel like I’m drowning and— You know what? I think relationships just aren’t for me,” he shrugs, his hands moving in exaggerated gestures. “That’s why I never cared for dating, never got myself involved in that kind of shit, not until—”

He finally looks at you and, fuck, you wish he didn’t. You’re not sure if you have the strength to deal with such hurtful discourse. You lick your lips and take yet another deep breath, deciding to ignore his hurtful remark.

“I’m… so sorry you’re feeling this way,” you say, slowing down your words, trying your best not to show how hurt you were. This isn’t him, you tell yourself. So no need for that tightness in your throat. “But you have to understand it’s not because of me. It’s because of everything that you’ve gone through and how hard it’s to deal with them. I don’t blame you, it is hard. But this… us,” you gesture to the both of you. “This is a good thing. Despite all the pain and hurt we’ve both been through, we—”

“Please, stop,” he says, raising his hand and pressing his eyelids together. “I can’t be with you anymore. That’s it, that’s all—”

“So you don’t love me anymore?” you counter. You scoff in disbelief, shaking your head. Kazutora’s eyes shoot open and you notice his pupils shaking in fear, like a deer caught in headlights.

“I love you,” he breathes out, and for a moment you see the boy you fell in love with in his amber eyes that are quickly filling with tears. “I do love you but it’s killing me. I feel like I’m dying,” he chokes out. He looks away from you once more and starts tugging at his fingers. “I’m rotting inside and I don’t know what to do to make it better. I just want it to stop. I want it to stop and— I don’t want you around when I’m like this. I want to figure out what the hell is happening and—”

“But if you love me and I love you then why—”

“I’m not happy with you!”

Kazutora widens his eyes, scared by his loud outburst. He parts his lips, silently muttering nonsense as he tries to come up with words that can make it better. You lower your head and he wants to punch himself over it. He doesn’t want to make you cry, not after everything you’ve done for him. Is he really going to be the person that hurt the one that made a home for him in her embrace? Is he going to hurt the only person that was brave enough to pick up the pieces of his shattered soul?

“I’m…” he babbles, in a soft voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

You snort. “No, you really did mean it, Tora.”

He can sense the hurt and sadness in your voice, even if now you’re the one that won’t look at him. He watches helplessly as you stand up and walk towards the living room window in complete silence. The apron you took off is still on the couch and the vast memories of all the times he embraced you while you were wearing it quickly fill his mind.

He wishes there was a way he could keep you. But no matter how much he wants to, he knows there really is no other way. He’s thought about this countless times. He has gone to work without getting proper sleep, stared at his blank tv screen for hours on end, trying to come up with a plan where he could keep you. Was staying with the person he loved the most too much to ask?

No matter in how many shades of light or with how much care he handled the memory of you, the only way he could spare you the greatest amount of pain was to leave you— even if he knew he’d end up shattering your heart as well.

Kazutora notices the way your fingers tightly close around the edge of the window, your knuckles turning white. He had come to terms that he’d lose you today, yet he never expected for it to be this way. It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. If hating him would mend your wounds faster, then he’d take it. Anything that would make the heartache he was causing you a little bit lighter. He knew you were the last person on Earth that deserved to go to bed carrying that much pain in her soul.

Looking out the window, you focus on a small girl walking her dog on the street. It’s a brown labrador and by the size of it, it’s barely a puppy. Rather than walk, it jumps on its four legs, his little head looking back at the girl every chance he has as he happily wags his tail. The pet shop Kazutora and Chifuyu work at immediately comes to mind. Would it be like this from now on? Small things eliciting memories of your days together without your consent and leaving a sour taste in your mouth?

You will need to find a new commute, you think, as you had been stopping by the pet shop on your way home for the past year. Is there another bus that you could take? As you try to remember the lines and their respective routes, you’re engulfed by the memory of the first time Kazutora dozed off with his head resting on your shoulder as you rode the bus together. You close your eyes and you can clearly see his peaceful expression and slightly parted lips as he slept, his fingers tightly intertwined with yours. His breathing is slow and his hands are cold and you wish you could go back, even for a minute and place a kiss on top of his head, since you wouldn’t be able to do so from now on.

Where exactly had you failed? You had just been complaining about your day when he dropped the bomb. Did you complain too much? Did you talk too much? Or was it you the one that was too much? You tried your best and supported him as much as you could but as it turns out, it hadn’t been enough. Good intentions were nothing but useless as you were now saying goodbye to the man you had loved the most.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt Kazutora’s cold knuckles against your cheek, wiping your tears. You gasp, startled by his touch and take a couple steps back until your back hits the wall. It takes a few seconds for him to bring his hand now, unsure on what to do next.

He looks so scared and small— it fills your heart with frustration. Your whole body is screaming to take a step forward and comfort him, cradle him in your arms like so many times before, assure him he’s safe with you and that he doesn’t have to worry anymore. That, if you can still go home to each other at the end of a bad day, you can take anything life throws at you.

But that’s the thing. You’re not each other’s home anymore. You don’t get to bury your face in his neck and hum happily when his perfume reaches your nose. You don’t get to have him take a nap on your lap as you watch a series or feel his lips ghost against yours seconds before colliding in a kiss.

You hate it. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking down at his feet. “Please, don’t cry.”

“You know what, Kazutora?” you say, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. You taste venom in your words, yet that doesn’t stop you. “If you’re not happy with me, then what are you doing here?”

He flinches at your words. Biting his inner cheek, he nods, still incapable of holding your gaze.

“Yeah, okay,” he mutters. “I’ll go. I really am sorry.”

Kazutora turns on his heel, walking towards the door. Maybe it’s the way you know he’s not coming back this time that makes your desperation afloat. You don’t want him to go and you also know you can’t make him stay. And even if somehow you could find a way to keep him by your side, it would be worthless.

He’s just not happy with you.

“Are you happy somewhere else, though?” you ask, your words leaving your mouth before your head has time to process them. He stumbles on his feet and stops. “Because if you just can’t manage to be happy, then it’s not on me.”

Kazutora doesn’t have to turn for you to know he’s second guessing himself. The next seconds feel like years as he just stands there, mid-way to the front door, thoughts so messy and loud you can almost hear them.

“That doesn’t matter,” he finally says with his back to you. He closes his fists and you see his shoulders rising and falling as he takes a deep breath. “This way you don’t have to deal with... with the mess I am and—”

“Oh, please, I knew what I was getting into when I started dating an ex-convict.”

The weight of your words fall onto you the moment they leave your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, muttering a curse. It takes no time for you to walk towards Kazutora, standing between him and the door.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Tora, I didn’t— you know I didn’t mean it that way. Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you whimper, tears flowing free down your cheeks. Your wave your shaky hands, desperate to make your point across. “I just wanted to say I knew things would be difficult but I loved you— I love you and I—”

Kazutora shakes his head, a gentle yet sad smile on his face as he takes your hands in his. He holds them in front of his chest, squeezing them gently as they don’t stop trembling.

“Stop, it’s okay,” he assures you. “That’s what I am.”

“It’s not,” you protest. “I mean— yeah, but you’re more than that. You’re so much more than that. You’re caring, you’re noble— you’re so tender with the animals at your shop. You’re so sweet with me, always checking if I’ve eaten and offering to help me out if I have chores I need to do. You always come pick me up if I’m working late. You— you’re so fucking special to me.”

Kazutora’s lips form a tight line. “I wish I could see that,” he whispers.

“Then just— let me try. Let me try until you can look at yourself the way I do,” you almost beg. You let go of the hold he has on your hands to gently cradle his face. “I’ll do anything, but... don’t patronize me. I’m not a little girl. Whatever life throws at me, I’ve always been able to handle it. No— we’ll handle it. Together. Like it’s always been, you and me, I just— please, I don’t want you to go,” you cry. “We were going to be happy together, you were going to live with me and I’d give you half my drawers and half my closet and half… half everything. Please, don’t go. Don’t go, Tora.”

The sadness in his amber eyes only confirms what you’ve been fearing this whole time. You sob, your thumbs softly stroking his cheeks as you feel the world crumbling around you. This time, he doesn’t stop you, letting you cry as you hold his face, coming to terms with the fact he’s really leaving after all.

Your hands move to his hair, gently threading your fingers across his long, dark locks. Tracing the outline of his face, you push one of the dyed streaks away, only for it to fall back right where it was before. You can’t help the small smile that forms on your lips. He’s so pretty, you think, as the pads of your fingers gently caress his face. Your thumb grazes the space between his bottom lip and his chin and you dream of a world when he’s not saying goodbye, but rather falling asleep under your touch on your shared bed. You never knew loving someone as much as you loved him was possible-- yet the way your heart was crumbling in pieces was evidence of how much your soul was aching by being separated from the person it belonged to.

Sniffling, you rub your cheek against your shoulder to wipe your tears. You swallow before raising another question.

“Is this a… temporary thing? Or for good?” Your voice comes out in a whisper as you place down your hands on his shoulders.

“I don’t know,” he answers. He wants nothing more than to put his arms around your body like so many times before, but he’s aware that it will only make things more difficult. “But I don’t want to keep you waiting in vain. You should move on.”

Kazutora realizes how much he hates the idea as it leaves his lips. The idea of you starting over with someone else rots in his tongue. He doesn’t want you to hold anyone’s face the way you were just holding his. He wants to keep you all to himself, to go to endless visits to the grocery shop, to watch you fall asleep during movie night and then pretend you didn’t, to massage your hands as you tell him about his day.

But you don’t deserve the guck that’s forming inside his mind. He knows it’s only a matter of time before it comes out pouring and reaches you. And he’ll be damned if he lets himself ruin the one good thing he’s had in his life for many years. He promised to himself he wouldn’t let his ill state of mind touch his loved ones. Never again.

He watches you nod and feels his heart shattering, even if everything is going just the way he intended. You rub his shoulders and look into his eyes, a sad smile on the pretty lips he would never get to kiss again.

“Okay,” you sigh. “We’ll end this but… when you leave, never doubt how loved you were. No— how loved you are. I don’t know what is coming for either of us but… I do know a part of my heart will always belong to you, no matter who I hold hands with. I will always love you, Tora.”

Your words are enough to finally break him. Kazutora clutches your body tightly against him as he loudly sobs against your shoulder. You hold him, tears flowing free once again as you try and soothe the man you love, leaving small kisses on the side of his head and whispering soft reassurances that it’s okay. It’s not, you tell yourself. It’s never going to be okay. But it has to be.

Carefully, you move him back to the sofa, helping him sit down while he refuses to let go of his hold on your body. You lean on the back pillows, both your arms cradling him while he whimpers like a small child. Kazutora clutches the fabric of your sweater with desperation, wishing there was a way he could stay with you.

Why does he have to give up the person that had put a smile back on his face? He can’t quite remember a time when his stomach had hurt out of laughter before he ever met you. Or when he’d experienced such peace as the night he stayed at your apartment and got to see your sleeping face first thing in the morning. He’s never loved anyone as much as he loves you and, for all he knows, he may never love like this again. 

But he could never risk tainting you. He would never be able to forgive himself.

Kazutora softly pulls away from your embrace. His eyes are blotchy and red and you’re sure yours look the same or even worse. His nose is red, like it always does when he cries. It’s endearing, you think. Everything about him, from his hair, to his eyes, his hands— you’ve come to love every part of Kazutora. And that’s exactly why it’s so hard to let him go.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says in a whisper, resting the side of his head on the back pillows of the sofa.

“Like what?” you ask, gently pushing his hair away from his face and behind his ear.

“Like I matter to you. Like I’m making a huge mistake.”

You take a deep breath. Imitating him, you rest your head on the back pillows as well, so you’re both facing each other.

“I don’t— I don’t fully understand what you’re going through,” you admit, your eyes locked on his. “But if you need to… get away, then you should. You’ve been nothing but loving to me. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy, whether it’s with me or not. You deserve to fully experience all the beautiful things life has to offer.”

Silent tears fall from both your cheeks and his.

“I should be thankful I got to love you for this whole year. Because even if it ends this way… God, I loved you so much,” you sniffle, letting out a small laugh. “And I felt so loved. Isn’t that magical in itself? That we got to love each other at the same time?” you wonder with a sad smile.

Kazutora parts his lips, yet the doorbell interrupts him before he can even speak. You look at the front door, your eyebrows furrowing for a moment before you realize who’s probably there.

“Food’s here,” you say, wiping the tears from your face.

“Food?” Kazutora asks, confused.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Didn’t I tell you? The baking dish broke so I called that restaurant, the one with the burgers we like.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t really listening back then,” he admits with a pang of guilt. He sits up on the couch and turns his head at you. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

You sit up as well. “I ordered for the two of us. C’mon, stay for dinner. Let’s… remember us this way, okay? Without so many tears and sadness,” you offer, tilting your head towards him. “I even ordered your favourite one.”

Kazutora rubs his face with his sleeve, erasing the trail of the tears he just shed. Looking at you, he nods, drawing a small smile on his lips.

“Okay. I’ll get it.”

He only walks a few steps towards the door before he feels you tugging at the back of his shirt. Turning around, he notices you’re standing right behind him. Your eyes look up to him, biting your bottom lip and not even a ghost of the smile you previously offered him.

“Before that, uh— I want you to know I… I mean it,” you firmly say, taking in all his facial features, loving how they soften every time he looks at you. “I’ll always love you. No matter how many years go by or if I ever stop being in love with you— I’ll still love you.”

“I’ll always love you too,” he replies, taking your hand and squeezing it softly. “I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

You finally let out a soft chuckle and squeeze his hand back. The doorbell rings again and you walk around Kazutora to get to it. This time, he’s the one that stops you, not letting go of the hold of your hand. Looking back at him, you notice the soft pout in his lips and how they softly tremble, looming more tears.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, and you know you’re saying it to yourself as well. “Who knows, we might get together again someday. Have our own Casablanca moment. We’ll always have the pet shop,” you joke, trying to fight back to tears that threaten to fill your eyes as well.

It’s Kazutora’s turn to chuckle, only this time he does it along with you. You let go of his hand only to hold his face tenderly, a soft smile as you look at the man you love. Standing on your tiptoes, you press your lips against the beauty mark under his right eye. You feel his hands setting on the small of your back and watch his smile widen when you fall back on your heels.

Locking your fingers with him once more, you open the door.

[sukirichi]

— falling out of love with gojo satoru

warnings: angst, mentions of sexual content, cursing

masterlist !

when you fell in love with gojo satoru, your heart exploded like a firework.

you still remember that moment very vividly at the back of your head. it was new year’s, and you two were drunk on both liquor and the feeling of having the other by your side. it was a tough year – as the norm was for jujutsu sorcerers – but you both made it out alive.

alive couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt that day.

satoru has always been the person who stuck by your side through thick and thin like how you were the one who always went against the higher-ups when they tried to limit his capabilities. you should’ve known then, that the higher ups were just the beginning. that when once you thought their oppression for satoru’s plans were nothing but microscopical compared to the barrier his family had placed between the both of you.

they didn’t like you.

he was a gojo, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, while you were...well, you.

you weren’t really anyone special or better than anyone. your technique was decent and had a lot more drawbacks than advantages that you had to improve your physical abilities instead to not be deemed a total useless tool.

satoru never saw you that way. to him, he admired you almost as equally as he cherished his best friend, suguru, so much so that the three of you become the best of friends in the blink of an eye. the more time you spent together, whether alone or with others, it felt like your world just hyper focused or snapped into tunnel vision, zeroing on no one else but the white-haired man whose smile was brighter than any other in the sky.

when he told you he loved you, you couldn’t distinguish which ones were the exploding new year fireworks or the drumming of your heart. you stared up at him then, lips falling open as you released a tiny breath of air, and satoru laughed. he actually laughed.

you wanted to tease him, to punch him even though you couldn’t really ever touch him just to get over the fact he had you losing your composure with eyes glossing over. “well,” he taunted then, one shoulder lifting up lazily. “aren’t you gonna say anything? if you feel the same way, now’s the best time to tell me. we can end the year as friends and start another one as-”

satoru never got to finish his sentence. you had jumped into his arms faster than the speed of light, hands yanking down his yukata to pull him towards you, your lips slamming on his almost greedily.

he didn’t mind. he never did.

for once, it felt as if his infinity never existed. you had both spent the night tangled under the sheets, your name rasped from his lips like a prayer. the way you kneeled for him just moments later with your eyes fervently closed made him feel like he’s the one being worshipped instead, and in a way, it was. you loved him – way too much that you no longer cared how much it would hurt the day after when he never gave you a break and kept you pulled closer to him.

you loved him – way too much that you no longer cared how much it would hurt if ever the time came that you no longer felt the same.

contrary to how you fell for him, you fell out of love with your best friend quietly. your shared apartment would still be filled with his annoying mannerism of dragging his feet over the floor as he walked, always groaning and complaining that he was hungry but never really bothered to cook anything for himself.

it felt a lot like living with a child where you were his mother, but in that sense, satoru hated it whenever you worried for him.

“you’re not my mother, stop telling me what to do!”

“stop being so arrogant, satoru!” you pointed to the barely conscious child in his arms, the first year student still barely breathing because satoru had gone out of his way again and brought yuuji while he fought a special grade curse. “you may be strong, but not everyone around you is capable of handling what you can! stop dragging people into your mess and start using your goddamn brain for once!”

“you don’t know anything, so shut the hell up.”

you scoffed, hands placed on your hip while you blinked back the angry tears that threatened to fell. you worried for yuuji, you really did, but in reality, you just couldn’t handle seeing gojo pushing himself to his limits and coming back home more wounded than the night before.

“i’m just worried for you, satoru. i don’t want you getting hurt.”

“i’m the strongest,” was all he said – was what he always kept saying. “i’m not going to get hurt.”

“you may not,” you reply stiffly, “but what about me? don’t you think about me? don’t you think about how much it hurts me to see you this way?”

you told yourself you hated him. you hated how arrogant he got. it was good he was confident of his abilities and prided himself of such an honourable title, but satoru was human. he was bound to fall at some point.

eventually, you got too tired.

it was too tiring to keep waiting for him to come home unscathed. you were assigned different missions all the time. satoru would always be working overseas while you mostly helped train the kids and exorcised curses from time to time; no missions that were as dangerous as his.

in the dead of the night, when you were turned away from him in your bed that had already gotten so cold from his usual absence, satoru would slip beside you as silently as he could. the morning afterwards would always be the same: good morning, did you sleep well? he knew the answer. he knew you never slept well without him, but he’d ask just to be nice, and it wouldn’t take too long before you’re both late to work because he missed you too much from being away all the time that he wanted to feel you clamp around him one more time.

it was tiring. too tiring.

that heavy weight never left your shoulders. you cried yourself to sleep far too much that you’d lost count – until you reached a point you just felt nothing. the bed no longer felt cold – just empty. his side always remained untouched, his chair in the dining table barely used, and you’ve gotten so used of washing only your plate and utensils that you wondered if satoru had ever been there.

you wondered if it was a coping mechanism; that maybe you could just no longer handle the pain of having to worry about him every damn night and he’d never care enough to at least be a little more careful, and this was why you just stopped missing him, which was why you just started enjoying the silence in your apartment a little bit more than you should.

but if it was a coping mechanism...why did you feel a lot freer and happier in his absence? instead of it feeling like you were supposed to be distracted, you felt awakened. alive.

alive in the same way he told you he loved you while the skies painted different hues of red, blue, green, and yellow in the darkness that bore witness to your souls connecting that night – the same sky that was now patiently watching as your souls split in half and formed itself whole all over again.

contrary to how you fell for him, you fell out of love with your best friend quietly.

there was no longer someone singing made up songs in the shower. there would no longer be that sound of an annoying loud kiss down the bride of your neck or the smacking of his palm on your ass when he wanted to piss you off.

you fell out of love him so silently that when he crawled next to you that night, you didn’t even hear him. and for the first time in a long time, you slept well the moment he left before the sun stretched its wings across the horizon. when you were greeted by nothing but your own pair of slippers outside your bedroom and not even a post it note to tell you he’d already left for work, a smile tugged on your face.

you made your breakfast in peace. satoru no longer dared to come back home if he was injured because he knew you wouldn’t care enough to fix him up.

although of course you would, but nothing ever beats in your heart for him anymore when you dab the disinfectant across his cut lips. satoru would catch your wrist then to tug you to him slowly, empty eyes staring back at his sky blue ones.

“thank you. for patching me up.”

“you’re welcome,” you’d smile, climbing off his lap while closing the first aid-kit. “go get changed. i’ll cook something up for you.”

it was a silent, empty routine. satoru would thank you for fixing him up because he was never every sorry for worrying you. he’d keep being reckless again and again until he reached a point you no longer cared for him enough to say goodbye to him with a kiss and the slow, tender promise of be safe – i’ll wait for you to come home.

you still kiss him – more out of habit than anything – but you’ve changed.

i’ll see you tonight.

it was empty, silent, completely different from the fireworks he’d ignited within you when he told you he loved you. satoru wasn’t dumb, and he didn’t need his six eyes to see that you’ve grown too comfortable over the large space between you and him between the sofa, almost as if him being away was what felt home for you.

he was never a confrontational man; he hated each waking moment that lead to this, but he had to do it. he needed to do it – to set you both free.

when the commercials started playing, satoru lowered the volume down, voice low and serious as he turned to you. you easily picked up on the sudden tension in the room – the first thing you’ve felt ever since you’ve fallen out of love with him – yet nothing changed. when satoru sighed, your heart didn’t ache.

“well,” he chuckled nervously as he leant back to his side, “things have changed, don’t you think?”

“yes.” there was no point denying it. you knew it – he felt it.

“what do we do now?”

you had no answer to his question. despite the fact you no longer looked at him the same way, not once had it crossed your mind to leave your apartment. not because you wanted to hold on as much as possible to whatever memories you shared under this roof, but simply because you didn’t know where else to go.

it wasn’t like it made a difference anyway. satoru barely came home, and when he did, he made his presence as scarce as possible that you could no longer tell what difference it would make if he was here or not.

“i don’t know,” you admitted, knees hugged to your chest. “what do you want to do?”

his answer came in the form of opened doors. you leant against the doorframe, watching as nanami and even yuuji came to help satoru move his stuff out of the apartment. he found a better place somewhere in the upstate, somewhere much closer to bars and clubs – which you know he thoroughly enjoyed it prior to meeting you – and your mind immediately went back to the time you and satoru first moved in.

it proved to be a difficult task. you both wanted to move in and finish unpacking as soon as possible, but satoru was too eager to christen each part and corner of the house that you both ended up making more mess.

nights spent tucked into each other because the heater was broken and you were both too tired to sleep anywhere except the uncomfortable mattress played like a broken record in your mind. satoru’s laughter echoed when nanami complained that he should stop spending money on souvenirs so he could’ve hired professionals to help him move out instead, your head snapping up at the source of that carefree, sweet laugher that always had butterflies erupting in your stomach.

as if feeling your gaze on him, satoru’s eyes flitted to where you stood. when he smiled, you could tell each genuine apology rang behind it – all the words he never got to say staying like a broken glass that kept cutting him over and over again.

he loved you. he still loves you.

and maybe, tucked away in the deepest parts of your heart that no longer felt fond of him the same way it did before, still held a little compassion enough for this man you once wanted to spend your life with.

you weren’t unkind. you didn’t need to love someone to know when to forgive them, but just for this moment, just for him, you could pretend to for one last time.

smiling up at him with your eyes crinkled and the last bits of adoration for everything about him gleamed through your lashes just before it slipped away into nothingness. it was enough. it was enough for satoru to know he’d been forgiven, and it was enough for him to finally set you free.

the next time you saw him at school, there were no longer fireworks.

your heart was at peace.

[chocolateheart]

Door number 12

Title: Door Number 12

Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?

Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo

A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!

A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!

A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3

Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.

This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.

Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.

No, not again!

Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.

Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.

When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.

"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.

"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.

"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.

However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.

"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."

You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.

On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.

You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.

You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.

Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.

If only you could actually focus on college work.

After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.

Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.

Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.

“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”

Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.

“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.

“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”

“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.

“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”

He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”

After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.

“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”

Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.

Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.

Winchester was just a pain in the ass.

Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.

Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.

“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.

You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.

“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.

“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”

“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.

“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.

“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.

“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.

“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.

Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.

“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”

“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.

“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”

“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.

“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.

“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.

"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."

"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.

"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?

"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.

"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"

"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.

"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.

Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.

Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.

“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.

You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.

“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.

“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”

“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.

“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.

“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”

“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.

“Sure.”

And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…

The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.

“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.

“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”

“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”

“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.

You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.

You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.

You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.

Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.

With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.

The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.

Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.

Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.

“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.

“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.

Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”

He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.

“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.

"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."

He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.

"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”

You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.

“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”

“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”

“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?

“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”

“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.

“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”

“Ian is a cool guy!”

“Good!”

You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.

“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.

“You wish.”

Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.

Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.

There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.

However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.

You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.

The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.

"Fuck it."

Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.

You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.

“Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.

Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.

The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.

“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”

The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?

The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.

Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.

“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.

This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.

Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.

With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.

Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.

Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.

Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.

You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.

Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.

Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.

Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.

The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.

A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.

Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.

“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.

The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.

A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.

Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.

After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.

Oh, so he could be gentle too.

Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.

"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"

You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?

"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.

"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."

Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.

"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.

Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.

You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."

You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.

"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.

“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.

You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.

And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3

Tag list is open! :)

If something is not working, you weren’t on the tag list even if you wanted to, you can’t send an ask or you didn’t receive the notification about me tagging you in any of my fics, please contact me in DM’s.

Tag list: @deanwanddamons @jay-and-dean @katehuntington @winchest09 @talesmaniac89 @roonyxx @bunkerconfessions @akshi8278 @snffbeebee @lady-pswrld @rvgrsbrns​ @polina-93 @teresa-67 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @mrspeacem1nusone @flamencodiva @cutiecowgirl @waywardbaby @flashxspn @lyarr24

[writingsbychlo]

sun in the shadows (11)

word count; 10,191

summary; you go to dinner with stiles, and things that were once great rapidly go south.

notes; you’re gonna hate me. sorry.

warnings; reference to panic attacks, a lot of yelling, just heart pains, y’know?

There was music vibrating the flooring from the apartment next door to Stiles and Noah’s, and it had taken you a moment to distinguish between the two, considering how often it was that the noise was coming from behind this door instead. Swinging open a second later, your flannel-clad best friend stood behind it, a spark in his gaze and a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes when he greeted you.

“Hey, Sti.”

“Howdy, pretty lady. Come on it.” Stepping back, he swung his arm dramatically for you, and you giggled a little as you walked in, bag swinging by your side and keys rattling in your hand as you clutched them with your phone. “I figured I’d drive, it’s easier than taking two cars.”

“That means I get to drink.” You smirked, hanging your own up on the key hooks next to the door, and slipping your bag down from your shoulder to take up a temporary residence on the coat rack. “Where’s Noah?”

“Loverboy is right there on the couch.” Stiles pointed over your shoulder, your brows furrowing a little at his lack of greeting, and when you turned, you realised why. Now that you could see the headphone sitting on his head, you knew why, and you could pick up the very faint humming that was coming from them, unintelligible with the muffled effect, but clearly loud in his ears.

Crossing the room to him, he was focused on his computer screen before him, typing rapidly up at an essay you weren’t entirely aware of, but it was presumably just a final assignment before the end of the year. Placing your hands gently on his shoulders, he jumped rather violently at the sudden touch, and your chin rested on the top of his head as your hands ran a little further down his chest. Sinking back into the couch once the stiffness from his body faded away, the reflection in the computer screen showed a smile, and one of his hands came up to rest over the top of your left. The other raised up, enough to lower the headphones from his head, and leave them hanging around his neck.

“Hey, sunshine.”

“Hey, starshine.” Sliding around onto the couch, you ignored the slight gagging sound Stiles made from the kitchen, taking a seat beside Noah, and he removed the headphones entirely, twisting to face you a little more. Leaning in, his smile shrunk, something softer but a little more serious as your nose bumped against his, before your lips weer brushing together. Once again timid at first, before he was pushing a little closer to you, confidence behind his actions as he left a sure kiss to your lips, smiling all the while.

One warm but calloused hand came up to sit on your cheek, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone each time he pulled back, only to come back in with another peck and another, until you were grinning too widely to let him press anymore. His cheeks were pink when he pulled back to look at you, something sparkling behind his darker brown eyes as he did, and you leaned a little more into his palm, just before it pulled away.

“You two sicken me, I can’t stand to be in this room right now.” You scowled, turning to look at your best friend, and the blush on Noah’s cheeks only got deeper, turning to face his computer as he’d missed the presence of his brother behind you both entirely. “I’m going to get my coat and my jacket, and we can go.”

“Go?” Noah echoed as Stiles left the room, and you shrugged, collapsing back into the cushions of the couch, even if it would only be for a little while.

“I’m going to dinner with Stiles.”

“Oh.” He hummed, and you smirked a little, head tipping to the side to look at him as he tried to hold his face steady. “Sounds fun.”

“Do you wanna’ come too?” You teased him with the tone of your voice, and his eyes narrowed on you a little as he picked it up, but his smile was breaking through the false frown he wore.

“I would, but I can’t.” Raising a brow at him, you prompted him on further, and his gaze flicked to his screen for just a moment. “I have an online lecture in an hour. Can’t miss it.”

“Shame, it’s always more fun when you’re there.”

“Always?” He grinned, leaning in closer again, until his nose was bumping yours, and he let out a breathy laugh against your lips. “We’ve only ever been out together for dinner with my brother once.”

“Yeah, well, that one time was pretty fun. You opened up a lot, I liked that.”

“I like it when you open up too.” He mused, hand landing on your thigh as he moved to place a kiss to your lips, the innuendo not going unnoticed, and you scoffed, twisting your head as not to muffle your laughter, and he grunted when his lips met your cheek instead.

“You’re awful, you know that?” You shoved at him, grinning all the while as he backed off. “So many bad jokes. And dirty jokes. And bad, dirty jokes. That’s all you are.”

“Yeah, but you like it.” He was too confident in himself, and you rolled your eyes, moving to pick up the headphones that still had noise coming from them, and he only watched as you did.

“So, what are you listening to?”

“Your playlist. Well, I mean, the one I made for you. It reminds me of you.” You placed the headphones over your head, a song you were unfamiliar with but had a catchy tune meeting your ears, and you wicked a little at the volume. Reaching a hand up, Noah adjusted the dial on the side of them, turning it down to an appropriate level, and you couldn’t help the tapping of your foot along with the rhythm. “You like this song?”

“I’ve never heard it before, but it’s pretty good.”

“A little time with me, and I’ll have your music taste expanding considerably.” He smirked a little, switching the song while it was halfway through, and beginning to skip through them, clearly in search of one as his eyes were fixed on the computer screen. Lifting the headphones down from your head, his gaze moved back to you, smile flittering for a second as contentment became questioning. “What?”

“You sure you don’t wanna’ come to dinner? I haven’t seen much of you this week.”

He snorted a little, and you rolled your eyes at him, his hand coming out across the cushions to find yours. Flipping it over, your fingers laced together lightly, and he was still smiling when your gaze dragged up from looking at your connected hands to meet his. “We went for coffee twice, and it’s only Thursday.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. I’m clingy.” You mumbled, pouting as you shrunk back into the cushions some more, and he only chuckled at your false mood.

“I like that you’re clingy.” His hand slid further up your arm, griping lightly at your bicep to pull you to sit up again, and his lips moved close enough to your own once again that you could taste the coffee he must’ve had at some point, warm on your tongue when you inhaled. “I’m kinda’ clingy too, but I just meant that we’ve spent a normal amount of time together so far.”

“For what, normal couples?”

“Oh, shut it.” His lips brushed against your own teasingly, sweet kisses that barely touched your lips, and you smiled, pushing up further into him, only to be teased more when he pulled back, just enough to keep your kisses like featherlight dances instead of loving embraces.

“You gonna’ kiss me already? It’s rude to leave a gal waiting, you know.”

“I’m thinkin’ about it.” He whispered, puckering enough that you could finally steal a few simple kisses from his lips, between fleeting smiles and tips of his head, noses bumping each time he pulled back, only to take your chin between his fingers and kiss you again. “Why don’t you stay over tonight? I’ll kiss you plenty more then.”

“Deal.”

“Gross.” Stiles scoffed, and you groaned once again, pulling back reluctantly as you turned to face him. “Tonight is about me, thank you very much. I got problems.”

“You got no sense of timing. What problems could you possibly have?” Noah scoffed, twisted enough to lay his hand over the back of the couch and face his brother.

“That is a topic for me, her,” Stiles pointed at you, your brows raising for a second when Noah’s eyes flicked to your own, and you shrugged, “and a bottle of wine. Let’s go.” Standing from the couch to do as told, you stretched slightly, Noah following and Stiles grabbed his keys from the hook by the door, a hand settling on your lower back, guiding you. “You wanna’ come with us, Noah? I suppose I’ll let you in on all my big secrets. We did share a womb, and all.”

“I can’t, but if you brought me back some food, that would be awesome.” Stiles only nodded, turning away to undo the latch on the door. Grabbing your bag for you, Noah lifted it up and over your shoulder, a barely audible thank from you as he did, and only dipped his head in acknowledgement.

“What do you want us to bring you back?” With your jacket on and your bag retrieved, you were ready to go, Noah’s fingers smoothing the hair back out of your face when you turned to look up at him again.

“You know what I like,-”

“Yeah, you.” Stiles muttered, and you swung your hand out, smacking him roughly on the arm and leaving him to curse and rub it better, turning back to Noah instead. His twin had ignored him, despite the pink hue to his cheeks because of it.

“Just surprise me, I don’t mind.”

“‘Kay.” With eyes flicking to his brother for just a second, Stiles whistled excessively and turned away to the corridor, allowing you just a moment of quiet as he turned away. A few simple kisses, one to your forehead and then to your lips, the latter a little prolonged, before you were being pushed back away towards the door. A soft smile, warm cheeks and then you were leaving, waving goodbye to him before hooking your arm through Stiles’ and letting him guide you away.

Once the front door was closed, the whispering stopped, and a wickedly smirking Stiles turned to you. “So, things between you and my brother are getting intense, huh? When do you both change your Facebook status?”

“Who the hell changes their Facebook status, Sti? What are you, forty?”

“Hey! He flicked at your nose, punching the button for the elevator with his thumb a second later, and as the two of you waited, he turned to face you again. “Seriously, though, what’s the deal?”

“Well, I guess-”

The door pinged, a group of girls that lived down the hall from him stumbling out. They were giggly and drunk, greeting you both warmly with hugs that were weak and smiles that were a little too wide, loudly chatting as they passed you both by. The smell of floral perfume and booze was strong in the elevator, and once the doors closed, you were left in a little shock. “Oh, my God, I feel like I’m choking on perfume. I’m gay, I shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“I’ve used your bathroom after you got ready, I had to fumigate your cologne out of it.”

Stiles’ jaw dropped at your joke, the machine whirring as it began to lower towards the ground floor, and you giggled at the shocked look on his face. “I do not wear that much cologne.”

“Sure, Sti. Tell me again, how much did your industrial-sized bottle cost?”

“I despise you. That was on an offer, and it’s a refill bottle, it saved me so much money.” You only hummed as the doors opened, and you nodded disbelievingly, following him out of the elevator. Holding the door or the parking lot open for you, he scoffed, a scowl on his face but amusement in his eyes. “Fuck you, okay? You can go hungry.”

“I’ll go home if there’s no food.”

“You’ll do no such thing.” He snipped, knowing it was true, and only a second later, he was grinning again, the two of you making your way over to the powder blue jeep. He held the door open for you on the passenger side, bowing dramatically as he bent at the waist, before slamming the door shut once you were clear, a slight skip to his step as he rounded to his side of the vehicle.

Hopping inside himself, the radio sparked to life with a twist of the keys in the engine, a slight spluttering from the vehicle as it came to life, and his fingers messed with the volume dial, turning it down and strapping himself in. “You know, your brother is a mechanic.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my car.”

“Yeah, they are totally supposed to make those sounds.” You teased, and he patted the dashboard, one hand smoothing over the worn leather of the steering wheel.

“Don’t you listen to her, baby. She’s just jealous because her car isn’t as cool.”

“You’re so weird.” The words came out as a laugh, and then the music filled the silence, his attention moving to the roads before you both. It was always comfortable with Stiles, and despite his erratic tapping or the slightly grainy radio that he insisted he was fine, driving with Stiles was like taking a step away from real life. It was disconnecting, just for a moment, and oddly enough, it was one of the few times when he was quiet.

Today, though, was different. Stiles was different. He was a little twitchy, skipping between small talk topics like the weather and the latest movie trailers, like there was too much on his mind for him to contain, but he was trying to distract himself. He was so busy that you barely got a word in between here and the restaurant, just trying to process every piece of nonsense that he was saying. The man barely took a breath until he was falling out of his vehicle and into the parking lot, the evening chill striking into him for a second and forcing him to pause.

“Got a lot on your mind, Stiles?”

“Yeah. Kinda’.” He sighed, biting down on his bottom lip to quiet himself when it looked like nonsensical jumble was going to start pouring from him again, and he shrugged slightly, before choosing to offer his elbow to you for your arm to weave through his own. “I want to hear the specials before we start unpacking all of that.”

“Then we’d better get you inside. The suspense is killing me.”

With a little tug on his elbow, his clumsy footsteps fell into step beside you, lanky legs taking shorter steps as you took strides just to keep up with him, and a gush of warmer air washed over you both once you stepped inside. The smell of mixed spices and warming meals hung in the air, music made of chimes and upbeat notes playing from speakers in the ceiling and low lighting to set the tone for the evening as the sun outside was setting and leaving the city shrouded by dusk.

You were seated, a reservation under his name that was spelt incorrectly on the sheet, and a table in the back corner with plush seats was given over to you both. The table cloth was long, thick white cotton brushing the exposed skin on your thighs as you tucked yourself in. Your waitress disappeared after handing a menu over to both of you and taking a drinks order, leaving you to sit in silence, with an empty glass each, and a jug of iced lemon water, which your friend was quick to pour out.

His foot was tapping agitatedly against the ground as soon as he had sat back down, sipping continually at his water until the glass was half empty, and you took pity on him. Reaching a leg out under the table until your foot could press up to his, the bouncing of his heel stopped, his eyes raising up to meet yours, and his face crumples a little bit.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Sti.”

“I know, I just- I want to talk about it, but it’s really stressing me out. I feel like now that we’re actually here, it’s more real.” He sighed, giving in to his stress and letting his elbows rest on the table so that his chin could fall to his hands, and he was staring at you expectantly, like you had all the answers.

“I can’t help you ‘til you tell me what’s up.”

“You mean to tell me you’re not a psychic?” He smiled, sitting up straighter again when the waitress returned, and he took his pop immediately, lips sealing around the straw as he took a long gulp of it, and she produced her notepad.

You’d barely had a chance to look at the menu, opening it up and flicking your eyes over it, you looked for the safest option, something you already knew, letting Stiles fill the time with chatter to the waitress as he ordered his own meal. Placing your orders and letting her disappear, Stiles watched her walk away, and then glanced around the restaurant for a while, before his gaze finally came back to you.

“Okay, fine. Stop staring into my soul.” The edges of your lips flicked up at the sides, but your amusement didn’t last long, because he barely even reacted to his joke, the frown on his face becoming permanent. “I feel like I’m losing everyone in my life.”

“That’s heavy.” Your breath left you very suddenly, like a punch to the gut as he spoke, and he shrugged, looking vulnerable as he stared at you. “Shit, that’s not what I was expecting.”

“Yeah, well, I need advice, and I figured, that’s what best friends are for, right?”

“I suppose so.” You sighed over-dramatically, a smile forming on your best friend's face as you did. His hand was resting atop the table, scratching lightly at the table cloth. You weren’t even sure he knew he was doing it, fidgeting was just a by-product of his anxiety, and your hand settled over Stiles’ across the table, calming his movements. “Why do you feel like you’re going to lose everyone?”

“Well, you know, you’re whatever it is you and Noah have going on, which is to be expected, I knew you were going to meet someone someday, but sometimes it’s hard when you come over and it’s not to see me. It feels odd.” It was a hard confession to be made right off of the bat, a slight guilt pooling in your lower abdomen, and he shrugged, but wouldn’t meet your eye.

Squeezing his hand lightly, you turned it over, holding it carefully and raising your second to be able to hold it even tighter, his hand squeezing back over yours in response, and a seeking of comfort. “You know, when you first started dating Derek, you had way less time for me, and I had to get used to that. Our Friday movie nights became your and Derek’s date nights, and that hurt at first, but I got used to it. Because it made you happy, and I wanted you to be happy.”

“I forgot about our Friday movie nights.” He gave a small smile, forcing his gaze to rise so his eyes would meet your own, and you gave one in return.

“You’re not gonna’ lose me, Stiles. Haven’t you already got plans to be my maid of honour?”

“I guess it would be a shame for you all to miss me in a fabulous dress.” He tried to seem positive, like his problems were solved, but you could still pick up the fear and hopelessness that he was trying so hard to cover.

“You’re my best friend, Stiles. I don’t know what I’d do without you, and I never want to know. Maybe after college we won’t see as much of one another, and maybe we won’t get to hang out like this as much, but I’ll always be there for you.” He heaved a heavy sigh, sinking more into his seat, but this one felt a little more relieved. “You know, your brother has these same kinds of fears. You should talk to him.”

“He does?”

“Yeah.” You lifted your drink, taking a sip, and he groaned disapprovingly.

“You can’t just leave it at that! I feel like Noah is slipping away too, tell me about him, so I know how he feels.” His tone was begging, and you once again felt that pang of guilt, shaking your head as your glass was lowered back to the table. Despite taking a drink, your throat was dry once again, and you cleared it lightly before speaking.

“I can’t, Stiles.” His face crumpled, a pout forming on his lips, and you mirrored him. “It’s private stuff, things between me, him, and my files. I can’t say anything.”

“You can’t say anything?” He echoed you, eyes narrowing on you slightly, like he was analysing you, and you couldn’t figure out why.

“You should talk to him.” You pushed, ready to question the looks you were receiving, before a plate was landing in front of you. The shock made you jump a little, a plate landing before Stiles too, and you had never even heard the waitress approach with your meals. She was smiling brightly, clearly unaware of the tension between you both and the weight of the conversation looming overhead. She offered you drink refills and sauces, and everything you could possibly need, before she was leaving once again. “Your brother loves you, Stiles, and I know you love him. If you just talk about this, you’ll work it out.”

“Despite the weirdness of you dating my brother, it’s kinda’ comforting. You know us both so well, your advice is specialised.” His brows wiggled, and you rolled your eyes lightly at him. As you picked up your knife and fork, beginning to poke through your food, his own scraped slightly against the plate, a mumbled apology for the wince it caused. Before he was tucking into his food.

“So, do you want to tell me about your problems with Derek?”

His gaze snapped up to yours, shocked and astounded, his vigorous chewing paused as his full cheeks went still, and you pushed a polite forkful of food into your mouth as your gaze stayed locked with his. His chews were slower, and he choked down the large mouthful all in one creating a loud gulping as he did, following it with a large gulp of water. “How the hell did you know that?”

You smiled despite your mouthful, chewing again and swallowing your first bite as he continued to stare. “Well, you know, for starters, if your problems were solely about myself and Noah, you’d have turned to Derek for advice, plus, Derek was not invited to this dinner. You’ve also been having a lot more little disagreements with Derek than usual lately, and lastly, you haven’t spoken about him once yet today. You normally always want to brag about your big beefcake boyfriend.”

“I thought I was the one who wanted to become a criminal profiler.” He teased, cutting up more food on his plate as he took a break from your lingering gaze to stare down it, and thinking about his next words.

“Spill.”

“Pushy.” He teased, taking another bite, and the silence only lasted for a few seconds longer, before taking another mouthful, chewing on one side of his mouth to be able to talk. “It’s not really an issue, it’s more of a disagreement. He wants to jump right into life, right?”

“I’m not seeing an issue.”

“Because there isn’t an issue. Just a difference on when.” Your brows furrowed a little, waiting for him to explain, and he was pushing food around his plate with his fork. “I want to jump into life and all, I do, but I want to take a break. A gap year, or whatever. Maybe travel, maybe stay put, but just take a little break.”

“And Derek doesn’t?”

“No.” Stiles huffed, stabbing slightly too aggressively at the piece of steak on his plate. “He wants us to move in together, he wants to get an apartment on the other side of the country where his family’s law firm works. He doesn’t think we need a gap year, he just wants to go straight into life.”

“What I’m hearing is that you have a loving and devoted boyfriend who misses his family and wants to live with you.”

Stiles stared at you, appalled for a second, before picking up a fry with his fingers and pointing it at you. “Don’t simply my problems when I’ve overthought them all in my head.” He bit the end of the fry aggressively, and you crossed your knife and fork on your plate, the meal half-eaten as your hands came to join in front of you.

“Just because Derek wants to move across the country and start working doesn’t mean you can’t still take a gap year, Stiles.”

“What do you mean?” He was puzzled now, his brows rising and that sweet look of confusion on his features that made him look so young, and he continued to munch through his fries at an almost alarming rate.

“I just mean that it sounds like Derek is trying to build a reliable and secure future for the two of you.” His face softened as he thought about it, before a little guilt was coming in. “You could move in with him, and while he starts working, you could take a gap year. He can take days off, and you can go out and do things together, and you can have your gap year full of wild experiences just like you want. Then, when it’s over, you already have a plan in place.”

“Huh.” He sat back, staring a little beyond you as he spaced out for a second, and you filled the time with your own food, trying not to take too much amusement in the way his face visible flickered with various emotions as he thought about your words. “You know, I may have slightly over-reacted in my last conversation with Derek, then.”

“Well, you’ve never been known to be dramatic before.”

“I will stab you with a fork.” He mumbled, sticking his tongue out at you, and you couldn't stop the burst of laughter that escaped you because of it.

“Thanks for proving my point.” You mocked, and his eyes rolled.

“You suck. Shut up and eat your pasta.” Using his own fork, he reached across, ignoring your protests and making mocking and false threats to stab you with the instrument, before taking several chunks onto his fork, and forcing it into his mouth unattractively. “That's good pasta.”

You cringed as he spoke through his food, watching up swallow it once again, before moving back to his meal.

“That’s what you should get Noah.”

“You think?” Your body buzzed with a subtle spark of excitement just at the mention of the man’s name, and Stiles seemed to pick up on it, smirking as he stared at his plate, picking up more food with his cutlery.

“You guys are, like, really into each other, huh?”

You could only shrug, poking at the remnants of your food, the nerves of a talk you knew was coming but finally being here making your appetite shrink. That didn’t seem to matter though, because the second that you placed down your cutlery to indicate that you were finished, Stiles was reaching across, beginning to pick at your food as he’d finished his own.

“It’s okay. I mean, I know I make a lot of jokes, but you’re good for him.” His words made a smile rise, it was beyond your control, and your hand came up to rest on your cheek, leaning it against the table. “I think he’s pretty good for you, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Stiles smiled, taking all of the dishes and stacking them, moving them away from yourselves to the edge of the table. “He was talking to my dad the other day. I know my dad knows of you, and I mean, I’ve definitely told my dad some stuff about the study and you guys hanging out, but I heard Noah talking to our dad about you yesterday. Pretty sure it’s the first time, he seemed kinda’ flustered.”

“That’s so cute.” You hated how much it made your heart flutter, and a burning wave of heat rush through your body, ducking your head down to hide from Stiles how wide your grin had gotten. “I mean, we haven’t put a label on things, but, that makes me feel secure.”

“I think you bring out the best in each other. It’s nice. You’re brighter with him, and he’s bolder with you.”

“Thanks, Sti. That means a lot.” He grinned, his hand reaching out across the table again, squeezing yours when your palm was pressed to his, and silence fell between you both once again. The restaurant itself was loud, it was busy with the evening rush and the windows to the outside were now black as the night shrouded you in, but there was a bubble formed around the pair of you at this moment.

“So, are we wanting to take a look at dessert menus?”

You jumped, once again caught off-guard by your waitresses silent approach, and you swore she would make an excellent assassin. Or maybe you were just very distracted, but that didn’t matter.

“Uh, absolutely we are. I fuckin’ love the chocolate cake here.”

“Good choice.” She grinned, swiping up the plates and moving away, you were only left alone very briefly, before she was bringing back the one menu for you to look over.

With some persuasion from Stiles about sharing desserts, a request for two spare plates and a fresh set of pasta and some sides to be boxed up for Noah, your waitress was leaving, probably quite happy in the knowledge she’d be getting a very decent tip. Which she did, of course, because she was lovely, she wrapped up your spare food herself and always had a smile, offering refills but never invading your space.

By the time Stiles was paying the check and marking up a tip, you knew it was over 20%, but she’d earned it, and the two of you had become high on laughter and the simplicity of putting everything behind for just a few moments, as you’d giggled and joked like gossiping housewives over dessert.

Your sides were sore from laughter and your cheeks were aching from your smile, and for a while, there wasn’t a single thing in the world to worry about, it was simply you, and your best friend, spending quality time together that lately had been missed, as life had come crashing down.

Stiles was much more cheery as the two of you drove home. He sang to songs on the radio, and he stared out of the window each time you pulled up to a stoplight, and the tension between you both was much lighter. As the two of you got back, there was much more of a pep in his step as you walked back into the building than there had been when you’d left, and you suspected it was due to the weight that had been lifted from his shoulders.

Even if the issues were not entirely solved, Stiles had once been trapped in a maze that seemed like it had no way out, but he had now garnered a clarity, like a light leading the way, a key to the door that trapped him. He just had to build up the bravery to use it. His keys jingled in his hands as he fished them from his pocket once you had stepped from the elevator, along with the rustle of the bag of food swinging by your side each time your leg bumped it gently as you walked.

“We’re back!” You yelled, the door slamming behind you as Stiles closed it, and you jumped a little, sliding your bag down your arm and hanging it up, the paper bag with spare food stored inside rustling in your other hand.

“That was the worst ‘honey, I’m home’ I have ever heard.” Stiles teased, hanging his keys back up on the key rack.

“I don’t know, I thought it was pretty good.” Noah’s slightly deeper, slightly raspier voice appeared around the edge of the doorway, and your attention moved to him. He’d changed, swapped out from his day clothes into his pyjamas. Skinny jeans had become baggy pyjama pants and his jumper had become an old baggy t-shirt, hair a mixture between messy and flattened by the band of his headphones, with a sweet smile on his face as he reached out.

Holding the bag of food out to him, his grin stretched wider, and he stepped forwards, both hands landing on your hips instead, and you couldn't help the growth of your own beam, even as Stiles scoffed beside you. “I literally hate the pair of you, it’s disgusting.”

“Go be bitter somewhere else.” Noah mumbled, stepping a little closer, and Stiles’ shoes squeaked against the floor as he wandered away. Soft and delicate kisses were pressed to your lips, a few sweet pecks. His fingers pressed into your skin more as he held you a little tighter, pulling you a little closer by the grip on your waist, and you hummed against his lips when his head tipped to the side. His tongue dared to poke out, tracing along your lower lip slowly, and you chuckled, pulling back to look at him, your nose bumping his own when he whined a little.

“Easy, tiger. Plenty of time for that.”

“Weren’t you the one who was begging me for kisses before? I’m just holding up my end of a deal.” He teased, your cheeks heating, but he didn’t get a chance to notice before his lips were already moving back in to capture your own in a loving and heated kiss, and you couldn't help but return it. Despite the smile on his face and the matching one on your own, slow kisses were shared between you both, your free hand coming up to tangle in the hairs at the base of his neck. “I laid out some clothes you can wear to sleep in.”

“The comfy green sweatpants?”

“Well, you were so fond of them last time.” His smile became a smirk, the images associated with the night he was talking about flashing behind your eyes, ad the phantom feeling of lips tracing over your skin sent a shake along your spine, goosebumps rising on your skin. It seemed that he knew the effect he had on you, and the care he’d given you afterwards when offering you the clothes the first time. “Was thinkin’ we could watch a movie?”

“Definitely, but I have a little work to do first.”

“That sucks,” He tipped your face up, pressing a few kisses along your jaw, and your knees went a little weak as he did, your hand lightning against the handle of the bag as you gripped it. “You sure? You could leave it ‘til tomorrow.”

“You’re playing dirty.” He only hummed, teeth teasing a little over the skin of your jaw, and your breath was shaky as it came out. Finding a little strength, your hand slipped from his hair to his chest, pushing him backwards, and there was an adorable pout on his face as he looked at you. “Go listen to music, or something. I’ll work for as long as it takes you to eat your food, okay?”

“Fine, but I’m choosing the movie too, and since you’re insisting on being boring, you don’t get a say in it.” He leaned back in, stealing a final peck from your lips as you attempted to complain, noises silenced and he walked away from you with a cheeky grin, back toward the living room. Taking your folder from your bag, the pen and highlighter you’d brought still clipped to the top of it, and you left it out on the kitchen counter, the bag of food that you’d brought following it.

They both sat there, in the few minutes that it took you to slip away to Noah’s room and change, leaving your clothes folded on his desk and your shoes tucked down on the floor beside his chair. When you returned, Stiles was in his comfy clothes too, and he was picking through the bag of food you’d brought home, already unpacking it as his brother sat on the couch.

“You know, that food wasn’t intended for you.”

“Yeah, but, I’m hungry again.” He shrugged, peeling back the folded tinfoil edges and lifting the cardboard off. Swiping the carton out and away from him, you turned your back on him, taking the bag too and turning away from him to face the counters behind yourself. “Please, I’m hungry.”

“You’re greedy. You have snacks. This isn’t for you.”

“When did you become such a mom?” He grouched, reaching past your head and into the cupboards in front of you as he grinned, taking out a couple of bags of chips and a jar of dip from the fridge. When he left your peripherals, you no longer knew what he was doing, instead, focusing on sourcing a plate and beginning to serve up the meal from various cartons. Scraping out the noodles onto the plate, and arranging the dry elements around the source, you were proud of the presentation.

The noise of random reality show TV chatter was filling the background, the crunching of Stiles snacking harmonising with it. Grabbing a set of cutlery from the drawer and balancing them on the edge of the plate, you spun around. Rather than two heads at the couch, there was just one, that of Noah, and Stiles was sitting at the kitchen counter.

Your file was open in front of him, the warm joy filling you changing to cold fear so quickly that a wave of weakening nausea washed over you, and the plate in your hand wobbled, the cutlery dropping away to the floor and clanging loudly against the wooden slats. “Stiles, no!”

“What?”

He jumped, just as much as Noah did as he flinched at the shout and the sharp sound, and you reached out to put the plate down before your grip went so weak that you actually dropped it. “What the hell are you doing?”

Noah was on his feet, and Stiles looked like a deer caught in the headlights, his hunched form straightening out as he went stuff, and his eyes were wide, vulnerable shock on his face as he stared at you. “Well, I mean-” His eyes flicked down to the file, and he gulped as he swallowed. “We talked, about stuff, and you said there were notes in your file but you couldn't tell me, I thought you meant that in an ‘I won’t say it out loud but if you happened to read it then that’s okay, ha ha ha’ sort of thing!”

“What?” You all but hissed the word incredulously, and he shrunk under your stare.

“You didn’t mean that?” Stiles’ voice was a little squeaky now, and as he approached, Noah seemed to realise what he was reading, his own eyes going wider as he snatched the file away from his twin. Silence fell across the room, a pit forming in your stomach as your hands trembled a little, and you wondered just what pages Stiles had read before you’d stopped him, and he twisted in his seat to face Noah. “You have secret anger pent up against me?”

“What?” Noah had a shocked look on his face, one that morphed between fear, to humiliation, to anger, before a fiery gaze was turning to you. “You wrote that?”

“No!” Your heartbeat hard, thudding against the inside of your chest with a force that almost hurt, and you wrung your hands together. “I mean, not in those exact words?”

“Well, then what the fuck did you write?”

“Uh, just that you basically fucking hate your own brother!” Stiles interjected, a hurt look on the younger twins face, and you knew he was doing it on purpose but he was making everything that much worse. “You hate me, you feel like I abandoned you, you feel like I don’t care!”

“That’s not true-”

“It's not? Then why does it feel like everything makes more sense now that it’s out there, huh?” It was Stiles’ turn to yell, your ears ringing from the volume and you were scared by the stare they were both fixing one another with, pure fire burning in both of their eyes as each refused to back down from the other. “I knew something was wrong, I fucking knew it! You never talked to me about this stuff, you never talk to me about anything anymore!”

“I’m the one that doesn’t talk to you?”

“Yeah!” Stiles stood, hands on his hips as Noah’s chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, both of their faces growing a little redder from the heat of anger, and you could barely breathe.

“You never talk to me! You just started your stupid fucking podcast, where you broadcast your feeling out to everyone in the world except for me, and you shut me out!” Noah burst, seemingly regretting his words, and hurt etched its way onto Stiles face for a second, his shoulders, slumping slightly, and his hands fell flat at his sides.

“That’s what you think? That I would rather talk to everyone but you?” Noah shrugged, and a flicker of pain amongst the betrayal and anger on Stiles’ face made your heart break behind your ribs, before yet another blow was delivered from your sarcastic friend. “You think that I’m the one that did this to us, like it wasn't you that created this rift? How could you not tell me about all of these problems you have with me, that I never even knew about?”

“What fucking pages did you read?” He tore open the file still clenched in his hands, sheets becoming warped and crumpled under his grip, and as he stared down at them, eyes flicking over the page, there was a range of emotions travelling so fast across his features you could barely decipher them. Silence hung heavy, and he flicked rapidly between the pages, barely taking in the information but flicking between everything you’d highlighted, everything that seemed important during a fit of rage, and you could barely think of anything but regulating your breathing and slowing your heart, never mind how to stop him.

It all became irrelevant, however, when his gaze came back to find your own.

“How could you?” The anger was turned back to you, furious eyes with a shine that only indicated tears, and you tensed up, feeling stuck in the moment, like you were choking on the breath in your throat. “How could you? You said we were just talking, you said- some of that stuff- you lied! You said it wasn’t for the study!”

“I-I didn’t mean for it to-”

“To what? To ruin everything? You’re a fucking liar, look what you’ve done!” There was venom behind his words, and you knew he was hurting, but it still stung. The look in his eyes wasn’t like anything you’d ever seen before, it wasn’t defensive or anxious, it was pure pain and anger, and you hated that you were the cause of it.

“Don’t fuckin’ yell at her, this isn’t her fault, Noah!”

Whipping back to face his brother, Noah scoffed, rolling his eyes and your arms wrapped loosely around yourself to stop the trembling you felt coming on. “It isn’t her fault? It’s all her fault! None of this would have come to light, none of this would be happening if it wasn’t for her and this stupid study!”

“You have all this rage towards me! Do you think that would have stayed a secret for our entire lives? Do you think that would have just stayed tucked away neatly in a box and wouldn’t have affected us?” Stiles’ arms fell flat to his side, the wild gestures you were so used to seeing simply going limp as his shoulders sagged. “It’s not her fault you feel this way, it was bound to come out at some point.”

The shouting fell quiet, and there was a tension in the room that made you feel like if you even so much as flinched something would shatter and splinter.

“You know, when we were growing up it was the opposite way around.” Stiles’ voice was a little hoarse from, the shouting, and he sniffed back tears, avoiding everybody’s gaze as he stared at the floor. “You were that guy when we were in high school. You were the one everybody thought was cool, do you know that? So many girls asked me about you, nobody ever asked about me. You were that mysterious guy that didn’t talk constantly like his annoying brother, with the fixer-upper bike that made everyone think you were so fucking cool, and the attitude and the tattoos and everything else! You were that guy, and I was the dorky brother.”

“You never told me that, Stiles.”

“Oh, rich of you to talk about honesty now.” You’d rarely ever heard such malice coming from Stiles, he was like a ray of sunshine that was currently encased entirely by shadows, and you could barely breathe for the way it felt to be trapped here right now. “The difference, Noah, is that I never held that against you. I always loved you, and supported you, and I never let the way I felt about myself become anger towards you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Noah was tense again, your fingernails were digging into your palms so hard you swore they might cut right through, and everything was silent.

The first bullet had been fired, the first real shot of the argument had been thrown, and while you could see regret playing on Stiles’ face, there was no way that he could take back what he’d said now. It was out there, for everyone to hear and know, and the way Noah’s face was twisting from guilt to anger again was enough to suggest that he knew exactly what it meant.

“What is that supposed to mean, Stiles?” It was more of a growl now, tension rising once again like a hand around your throat and a stone in your gut that was just getting heavier.

“Shit, Noah! It means that you do this to your damn self, are you happy now?” Noah’s nostrils flared a little, and Stiles ran a hand through his hair, the gelled style he’d done for the evening falling out into an unruly mess. “You have anxiety, I get it, but I wanted to be my own person in college. You were fine in high school, you had your own little group of friends, and you had your bike, and your ego, and you were fine. Then when the loving adorations of stoners and cheerleaders fell away, you caved in, like their validation was all that mattered!”

“That’s not true!”

“That is true!” Stiles fought back, Noah’s jaw hanging like he’d had more to say, but had been cut off. “It is true, and you know it. Why can’t you see what everyone else can? That you’re a fucking great person, Noah, with so much to offer. You’re funny and you’re smart and you’re a great brother, normally, but you can’t see it for yourself. You rely on everyone else to validate you and make you feel special, when you’re special all on your own. You hate me for making you feel less, when you just can’t see how you’re worth so much more. You isolate yourself, and you judge yourself, and you make yourself into an outcast.” You took a deep breath, the kind of revelations you’d never had the strength to even think about finally voiced into the open air, and it felt a little easier to breathe once there was nothing else to be hidden. “Stop hating me because you can’t love yourself.”

“I don’t hate you, Stiles.”

“Yeah? Because right now, it kinda’ feels like you do.”

With that, Stiles was leaving, the slamming of his bedroom door to follow felt like a crack down the middle of the frozen room, and you let out your breath slowly, trying to shake off the feeling you had. It was nauseous, sitting in your stomach and twisting everything up until you practically felt dizzy, but you knew it must be nothing on how Noah felt. Reaching a single hand out, you placed it gently onto his shoulder, his back still to you, tensed from his position, and he jerked away.

When he turned to face you, it was with a deep scowl, and red-rimmed eyes that still shone with unshed tears, and a cold feeling radiated out from the centre of your chest in bursts. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me.”

“Noah..”

“No!” He stepped back, eyes cold as they looked at you and it was enough to make you freeze where you were, once again shocked to the point of immobility. He was trembling, a hint of fear, presumably about losing his brother after the argument they’d just had, but that too was rapidly washed away when he wiped at his face, tears finally shed barely getting a chance before they were gone. “You did this.”

“I didn’t mean to, Noah.”

“You fucking lied to me. None of this is real.” He muttered, letting out a ragged and humourless laugh. “It’s all so fucking fake.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do!” His head was shaking, and there was a feeling you’d never felt before settling into your gut, a horrid combination of heartbreak and fear as you watched him. “You never accepted me for who I was, all you’ve done is try to change me since the day we met. You force me to socialise with people who aren’t really my friends, and to go to places that spike my anxiety and you all it pushing my comfort zones but now I get it, you’re just changing me. You fucking used me for your grade, you used me for fun, you’re so fucking fake.”

“That’s really what you think of me?” It was like stepping into a bath of iced water, a cold feeling that moved from head to toe, electricity in the worst way possible, nothing exciting or new but unsettling familiar and terrifying as it moved all the way to the tips of your fingers in sparks. “You think I’d use you, you think I’m fake?”

“Oh, c’mon,” He waved around, pointing to everything from the clothes on your body to the plate of food going cold on the counter. “This isn’t you. You aren’t warm jumpers on the couch and reheating food, staying in for the night and listening to music. You’re all popularity and prom queen and parties, you’re bullshit. You’re everything I hate.”

“I don’t think you mean that, Noah. I don’t believe it. I think you’re hurting, and-”

“You think I care what you believe? You think I care at all? Stop trying to analyse me, stop trying to manipulate me right now.” He was glaring, heat in his eyes before something like clarity passed over his vision, and you saw the shift in him as he relaxed a little. “You know what? Just stop altogether. Stop trying to change me, stop your fucking study, stop trying to be a part of my life. I don’t want any of it anymore.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” His arms crossed over his chest, and you tried to stand your ground, copying his motions, until the pair of you were simply stuck, staring one another down. “I mean it.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“I don’t care.” That stung a little, and the calmness of his voice as he spoke made your faith shake, the anger that had been replaced by clarity was wearing you down. “Get the fuck out of my apartment, and get the fuck out of my life. I was doing perfectly fine before I met you.”

“You call secret anger to your brother and unresolved issues ‘perfectly fine’?”

He had a flash of anger again, that and a second of vulnerability, shock at your words as you finally threw a blow at him, but he took it strong, tongue clicking inside of his mouth with snark. “Maybe I was a loner, maybe I didn’t have many friends, but I sure as hell didn’t need you to come in here and try to fix me, because I was never broken!”

“I know that, and I never tried to fix you.”

“You tried to change me!” He yelled back, having at least the decency to look a little ashamed of himself when you flinched, but his stance didn’t change.

“I never tried to change you, I just wanted to help you.”

“Well I don’t want your help anymore, I just want you to get out of my life.” He took a deep breath to follow it, and you were left silent, unsure of what to say. “I mean it. This was fun for a while, while the illusion was still up, but now it’s just a problem, so just leave me alone.”

That struck a little deeper, and your arms feel from their locked position over your chest. You could feel the look on your face change from anger to hurt and you couldn’t help it, because you felt hollow and small as he stared at you. The confirmation came, that your relationship had never even been such a thing to him, it had simply been fun, he thought you were using him and figured he might as well gain something from it too.

The feeling you held weren’t reciprocated, the way he felt wasn’t real, and you took a shaky breath as he continued to stare without remorse to follow his words.

No regret, no back-tracking, no changes. He meant it.

And that was a whole lot worse.

“Fine.”

You moved past him, sure to swerve around his body as you ducked into the corridor, his eyes following you and Stiles’ bedroom door opening again when he peered out into the hall, but you didn’t want to see him either, and it was your turn to slam the door shut.

You felt weak, fingers grasping at the covers as you tried not to cry, because once those tears came you knew it would be a long time before they stopped, and you weren’t ready to deal with that just yet. Your clothes from the day were still neatly folded over the back of his desk chair, seconds later thrown haphazardly across his bed as you struggled to strip yourself of the clothes you’d changed into.

You were shaking, the struggle to undo the knot you’d tied at your waist only made pain turn to frustration, one of your nails tearing as you pulled at the threads, finally coming undone. Your throat was stinging raw from choking back how you felt, and with shaking hands, you folded up the jumper and sweats, leaving them out on the desk, and trying to tug on your clothes. There was shouting behind the door again, muffled voices that weren’t nearly as loud or angry as they had been but still holding rage, and everything felt like it was falling apart.

There was a pang of gnawing guilt in your gut, one you knew was illogical because this wasn’t your fault but it was present nonetheless, and it was already starting to feel like something only pints of ice cream and alcohol could fix. As soon as you’d gathered your things, the door was open again, the voices went quiet, two almost identical faces turning to stare at you.

One blank, the other filled with pity, and you didn’t want to see either right now.

“You don’t have to leave, it’s real late, you can take my bed for the night,” Stiles mumbled, taking a step closer and blocking his brother from your vision, and you were forced to look up to him. He was much a reflection of how you felt, red eyes and sore skin and a frown that felt like it would never leave.

“You know, Stiles, I love you, but with all due respect, I cannot imagine anything worse than staying here tonight.”

He shrugged, lips twitching minutely at one edge. “That seems fair. Do you want me to drive you home?”

You still wanted to cry, and your sniffle made that obvious, but you were still trying to be strong. You meant nothing to Noah, that much was clear, and you didn’t want him to know just how much he meant to you at this moment. Wiping at your eyes when it became apparent the tears weren’t going to leave, you sighed, shaking your head at how nice Stiles was still being, despite it all. “No, I don’t. I’ll drive myself, I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be reckless, just because you’re mad.”

You ignored Noah, Stiles turning to shoot him a very fast glare, and you moved beyond the pair of them. Swiping your folder from the table, a few sheets were loose, and you didn’t care for them in that time, you didn’t care for any of it, everything you held becoming creased as you grabbed at them. Your bag was still sitting neatly on the coat rack, and with a slightly harsher pull on the zipper, you yanked it open, shoving the notes inside, before swiping it from the hook and letting it fall to your shoulder.

Patting down the pocket of your bag, you couldn't stop the soft whimper that left you when you couldn't find your keys, even after rooting through the purse. You checked all of your pockets too, and as you failed to find them, you were feeling more and more like you were trapped, a caged animal, frightened and alone and the stress made you snap. “Shit! Where are my fucking keys?”

The tears were there now, your voice cracking as you spoke and you didn’t bother to wipe them away because it was obvious, but that didn’t make you feel any less judged by the two sets of eyes on you. A nimble finger and thumb reached past, plucking them from the key rack that your mind had been too foggy to remember hanging them up on, and dropping them into your palm when you held it up. You wanted to small, a silent thank you to Stiles for helping you, but it felt more like a grimace, and your sob was just as apparent when you took a breath. “You sure you don’t want me to drive, or call you a cab?”

“I’m sure, Stiles.”

“(Y/N)..”

Just the sound of your name from his lips, surrounded by so much pity, made your blood boil. “Don’t!” He jumped a little, one of your fingers pointing at him for a second as you glared, and it was your turn to finally be angry. Despite the shell he was putting on, something you knew to be fake from so long of getting to know him, he dared to look guilty, finally, some remorse showing through, and you shook your head at him. “Just don’t.”

There were tears on your face and you knew you looked a mess, the feel of the water dripping from your jaw, the stinging in your eyes and the way you could barely breathe, but you glared a second longer anyway. Your gaze softened as you moved to Stiles, a silent conversation held, before you were gone.

The hallways felt colder, the slam of the door as you’d left made you feel at least a little proud, and the chill through your veins made it easier to breathe. You were being crushed, torn apart from the inside out by how you felt, but the adrenaline of it all was just enough to keep you walking forwards for now, so you followed your feet, and let them guide you to the elevator, hoping it was enough to get you home.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐓𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝)

Warnings: NSFW content. Read at your own discretion. Not requested.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

"Hongjoong!"

You were practically swinging your feet in the air, whining and pouting like a child out of boredom and annoyance at being cooped up in the studio with your boyfriend.

"5 more minutes." He repeated.

"You've said that for the last 45 minutes." You groaned, tired of waiting for him to finish up.

"I promise I'm serious this time." He assured you.

5 minutes quickly turned to 10, nearly becoming 15. You let out a huff every now and then, eyes staring daggers into the back of your boyfriend's head. Seriously, why could he not take a little break? You wanted to spend time with him yet even on what's supposed to be his day off, he still chooses to work when you could both be doing.....other things.

Getting an idea, your hands quickly worked to rid yourself of your pants and underwear, Hongjoong, still focused on his task didn't even budge at the sound behind him. But when he began to hear some rather familiar moaning, he swung his chair around and was shocked to see you legs spread on the couch, your fingers rubbing against your clit as you stared at him through hooded eyelids. Hongjoong instantly got hard. Licking his lips, he got up and took his place next to you on the couch. Fumbling with his zipper, he pulled his pants down enough to stroke his hardened member.

"Let's play a game since you're so bored. If you can get yourself off before I cum, I'll eat you out right here. But if I cum first, you have to suck me off."

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

You were even more tired and angry than when you woke up. Why did your boyfriend have to be so difficult and special about cleaning? You literally spent over an hour lint rolling the shelves over and over again because you had 'missed a spot.'

"Make sure to get the corners, that's where the dust mostly accumulates." He called out from the kitchen.

Not being able to take it anymore, you threw the roller and the rag you were holding down onto the floor. You were tired of being ignored by your boyfriend except when he came over to inspect your cleaning. So you decided it was time to get back at him while simultaneously showing him getting dirty isn't such a bad thing.

Picking up the bucket of murky water, you mentally patted yourself on the back for choosing not to wear a bra underneath your white tank top. Looking over at Seonghwa, who still had his back turned, you put your plan in action. Splashing some of the contents all over you, you let out a squeal that had Seonghwa running over immediately.

"What?" He asked as he came in.

Putting on the biggest pout you could muster, you turned around to let him see the mess you made: white tank top soaked, your breasts completely visible through it, nipples poking out. Seonghwa's mouth dropped as he stared at them, unable to peel his eyes off.

"I'm dirty." You let out a huff.

Discarding the rag he was holding, Seonghwa pulled you against him as he began to peel your shirt off.

"Why don't we get you cleaned up then?"

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Once again you tried to pull your boyfriend out of bed.

"Yunho, baby. Come on. You have to get up."

You tried to tug his arm, pulling it but he didn't budge at all. Dropping his arm, you looked at him with an 'are you kidding me' expression.

"You said you were going to get up early to spend time together." You reminded him.

Letting out a tired groan, turned onto his stomach and hugged the pillow underneath him.

"I will....just give me a few more minutes..."

Shaking your head, you smacked his back before getting up yourself. You decided to let him have it his way. You had a lot of things to do today, starting with taking a shower. You made sure to slam the drawers rather loudly in an attempt to annoy your boyfriend, which he did not really appreciate, but still didn't say anything.

You were barely 2 minutes into your shower when you remembered you forgot your shampoo in your vanity dresser. Not even caring to turn off the water since you would be in and out in less than 10 seconds, you sprinted out the bathroom, door accidentally letting out a loud noise that startled your boyfriend. He quickly shot up and his gaze fell on you and your dripping naked body.

"Sorry Yunho, I forgot this." You apologized profusely.

Yunho blinked slowly, eyes scanning your entire body as he began to move off the bed.

"Damn...I'm definitely up now." He chuckled at the double meaning behind his statement.

Although you didn't plan it, you couldn't complain when he pulled his shirt over his head and began walking you back into the bathroom.

"Let's hurry before the water gets cold." He said with a smirk on his face as he closed the door behind him.

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

"I swear to god, you probably love chicken more than me."

Besides the fact your cold boyfriend was being a selfish asshole by not sharing his meal, he had been blatantly ignoring you when you both knew damn well he was more than capable of maintaining a conversation while also eating his dinner. You let out a scoff when he still didn't acknowledge you and just kept munching on the stupid drumstick. Picking up one of his fries, you flung it at his head.

"I am talking to you!" You exclaimed.

"Busy." He pointed down at his food, mouth full of chicken, you don't even get how you even understood that one word.

"Well you definitely answered my question. You do love chicken more than me. I bet if you had to choose between me or a chicken leg, you wouldn't hesitate to grabbed the chicken leg and ditch me."

You were seriously about to smack him when he just stared you down as he reached for another chicken leg.

"Are you serious-"

Getting up in frustration, you were going to go the bedroom and make him sleep on the couch, but suddenly an idea popped in your head. Turning back around, you stood right in front of him from across the table, hands on your hips. He gave you a questioning look when he finally looked over at you and then proceeded to choke slightly when you lifted your shirt up and flashed your boobs at him. The poor boy was nearly wheezing at the sight. Feeling satisfied, you put your shirt down and chuckled at him.

Quickly putting the leg down, Yeosang began wiping his hands on a napkin as he walked over to you.

"I'm suddenly hungry for something else."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

"Who's the prettiest girl? You are..yes you are." San cooed at the siamese he was currently smothering in his embrace.

Meanwhile you were on the other side of the couch, no longer paying attention to the movie playing. Well technically neither was your boyfriend, but you weren't watching cause you were too busy witnessing some furry feline steal his attention away from you to the point of abandoning your cuddling session in favor for her.

"San, she doesn't even want to be held." You pointed out how her claws were sticking out, her head looking in all directions trying to search for a way out of his embrace.

"Nonsense! My babygirl loves me." He chuckled as he kissed the top of her head.

"I thought I was your babygirl." You whimpered slightly.

San didn't respond which made you even more jealous of the stupid yet totally innocent cat who just wanted to be free from her owner's caresses. Tapping a finger against your cheek, a sinful idea popped in your head. Taking advantage of the fact a blanket was covering your lower half, you pulled your shorts and panties down without San noticing anything. Pulling the blanket off you and lifting his hoodie that you were wearing slightly up, you spread your legs before calling out to him in a sing song voice.

When San looked over, his jaw dropped at the sight and he immediately put Byeol down on the floor.

"Go on now girl, run along." He patted her behind.

With a sly smirk, he began to position himself in between your thighs.

"Cause there's another pussy I want to play with."

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

It was supposed to be a date night with your boyfriend. You two had already finished eating the delicious meal you cooked specially for him and were now supposed to watch a movie together, yet his eyes were glued to his phone. Glancing over, you frowned when you saw he was texting no one else but Yunho.

"Mingi?" You poked his cheek.

"Hmm?" He barely acknowledged you.

"You're not watching the movie." You said.

"Yeah I am." He responded, typing something into his phone.

Rolling your eyes, you then asked him what part was it on.

"The part where they found out the butler did it." He answered you.

You wanted to face palm. The idiot forgot it wasn't even a thriller since his baby ass couldn't handle them. Getting up, you told him you were going to the bathroom, which he probably didn't hear since his conversation with Yunho must obviously be more important than his date night with you. Turning on the light, you peeled off your pajama set to reveal the new lingerie set you bought specifically for tonight. Pulling out your phone, you quickly snapped a photo and sent it to him. Hearing a loud thud, you smirked as you knew he saw it and that noise was of him dropping his phone.

When you came back out, he was no longer on his phone, instead his attention was fully on you. Clearing his throat, he stared at the pastel pink set.

"You got that just for tonight?" He questioned you.

"Yep." You nodded.

Letting out a long sigh, he got up and went over to you, an arm slinging around your waist.

"I'm an ass aren't I?"

You giggled at him and pecked his lips.

"Just shut up and come on. I didn't spend so much money on this for it to go to waste."

Mingi was a giggling and blushing mess as he allowed you to lead him into the bedroom.

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

You covered your ears at your boyfriend's obnoxious and loud laugh, no doubt signaling another victory on the stupid game he was currently playing. He had the volume up so loud you could actually hear some of the sound effects emanating from it.

"Jung Wooyoung!!!!" You screamed at the top of your lungs and yet he still couldn't hear you.

Throwing your hands up in frustration, you gave up and went into your room. Taking out your phone, you began scrolling mindlessly through tiktok. Nothing besides cat videos were actually interesting at this point....

Until you saw the newest challenge that was trending all over. Perfect for girls who had oblivious gamer boyfriends like the one you had. Getting up, you decided to put the plan into action. Stripping out of your clothes, you grabbed a towel to wrap around yourself and grabbed a nearby plushie toy to throw at him since yelling wasn't going to work.

As expected, he did not notice you standing in front of him for a while after you came out. Aiming the plushie at him, you struck him right on the face. He immediately ripped his headset off.

"What the fuck are you-"

He froze when he saw you standing there, a mischievous look on your face. Swallowing hard, he widened his eyes when you let the towel drop on the floor, your naked body on full display for him. Not even bothering to see if he paused the game or not, he quickly got up and started walking towards you.

"Come here babygirl."

Knowing his teasing tone to well, you quickly sped down the hallway, giggling loudly as Wooyoung chased after you, catching up to you and holding you in his arms.

"Stop right there. You caused a problem, now you fix it."

Throwing you over his shoulder, he gave your ass a slap as he walked into the bedroom. Throwing you on the bed, he straddled your lap and began to free himself out of his sweatpants.

"Ok. Why not show me your skills with a joystick for once?"

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

You could not peel your eyes off your boyfriend's arms as they continued to lift up the weights he was holding. You were pretty sure you were drooling at this point. Every time his muscles flexed, you were tugging at your bottom lip with your teeth, your thighs clenching closer together.

"Jongho?" You shyly called out to him.

He didn't respond since he had his earbuds in, music full volume. Besides, when he was concentrated on something it was very difficult to get him to break focus. So you needed to think of something that would work.

Looking down and fumbling with the hem of your skirt, you finally had an idea. Moving cautiously so he wouldn't notice, you slipped a hand inside and began pulling your panties down your legs. Not like you needed them, they were practically drenched already.

Casually walking in front of Jongho, you pretended to be on your phone and 'accidentally' drop it. Bending down, you made sure your skirt rode up enough for him to notice you weren't wearing underwear. That is if he had even looked over at you. Glancing back, you caught your boyfriend's eyes, which were staring at you in disbelief.

"Guess it worked." You chuckled inwardly.

Putting the weights down, Jongho took off his earbuds and walked over to you. His fingers glided down to your skirt.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" He whispered, lips ghosting over your earlobe.

Sucking in a breath, you whined at him.

"I want you to pay attention to me."

Chuckling softly, he pressed your body to the wall, hands going to the back of your thighs and lifting you up effortlessly.

"Well then. Wanna help me out? Let's see how long I can lift you in and out of my cock."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

[dovesnroses]

A Quickie

For: @otromeru

Rating: Explicit

a/n: Hello! I know I haven't posted anything original in what feels like YEARS, but saying the last several months have been wild is an understatement. This is a request/dedication to @otromeru who is an AMAZING artist and one of my fave Obey Me! Fanart blogs. I love Neru, and I love her and Mammon's relationship. I hope you all enjoy it!!!

Warning: SMUT, oral f! receiving, mild voyeurism, Lucifer being a dick

Neru’s pissed.

All day today, she’s been putting out fires. Literal fires.

She doesn’t know who gave Beel and Satan the idea to try to improve Solomon’s recipes, but she’ll kill them when she does. Scooping the last of the ash into the bin, she sighs. It feels like all of Devildom is conspiring against her. Every day since starting her relationship with Mammon, there had been things to do: meetings to attend, punishments to endure, magic to learn. And even worse, the other six brothers had made it their mission to be the most giant cock blocks.

Even today, Neru and Mammon had been on her bed making out. His hand on her panties was teasing her just slightly. They hadn’t had sex in a week, and they needed this - she needed this.

But then her cell phone buzzed to life, and it was Beel asking for help to put out the large grease fire that had started downstairs. She would have ignored it if it hadn’t been Lucifer calling Mammon, demanding he come by his office this instant.

After that, she didn’t see Mammon the rest of the day. Lucifer had to have finished yelling at him by now. And there was still some time before she had to help with dinner; maybe she could find him and finish what they had started.

When she can’t find him in any of the usual places, she walks to his room. When he doesn’t answer her knocks, she assumes he’s not there. And since the door is open, she lets herself in just to be safe.

Mammon doesn’t notice that she’s there. His headphones are in; volume turned up so loud she can hear the bass. His hand is running down his exposed stomach, and the other hand is pumping his cock in quick hurried motions.

Neru’s frozen, watching her boyfriend pleasure himself. Her center begins to throb, and her mouth waters. She doesn’t even consider that he decided to start without her. Mammon tilts his head back against the pillows, his face and neck flushed deep with arousal. She feels herself getting wet. But she doesn’t want him to stop. Her hand reaches down, and she gasps when she finds herself already soaked through.

And that’s when he catches her.

“Babe, what the fuck?!”

Mammon scrambles out of bed to pull his pants up. Neru jumps and turns away.

“Mammon, I’m so sorry!” She squeaks. He’s going to think she’s a voyeur, and do demons even care about kinks? How was she going to -

“Babe, I didn’t even realize you were here,” Mammon murmurs, his arms circling her waist, “sorry you uh...saw that.”

Neru turns in his arms and sees he’s embarrassed. She feels terrible, but it was so fucking hot to watch. “What were you thinking about?” she whispers, looking up at him slowly. Mammon grips her tighter and breaks their gaze. She pushes herself up against Mammon and feels him straighten, “Mammon, tell me.”

He doesn’t look back at her when he replies, “You...”

And though she knows that’s what it could have been, hearing him say that sends a roaring flame straight to her core. He looks back at her noticing her breath is heavy. Neru’s eyes are dark, and her cheeks are flushed. Mammon smirks as he leans to whisper into her ear, “Do you want to hear more?”Neru shivers and nods, breathing out a yes. Mammon’s hands travel lower till he can grab her ass gently kneading.

“Mammon,” she sighs, “need you.” And she kisses him hard. Mammon keeps his hands on her and pulls her to the bed. She’s on top of him, kissing him, and he moans just enough for her to swipe his tongue with her own. It’s a messy make-out session, a necessity to make up for the lost time. Her hands skate down his front till she gets to his jeans, and she pulls him out. He’s still hard, and Neru moans because she is finally going to get what she’s wanted all day.

Mammon’s phone begins to blast that wretched pop song Asmo set as a prank. He’d yet to figure out how to change it, and it’s an even worse reminder that they’re not alone. She jumps back from him, and he pulls to look at it. Lucifer lights up in bright letters. Mammon groans, and a Neru panics. He’s going to have to answer it. He’s going to have to leave. And she’d be stuck again, wet and needy.

That is not happening again.

Neru rips the phone from his grip and tosses it to the edge of the bed, out of reach. She’s pressing kisses along Mammon’s neck, pulling the edge of his v neck down to nibble along his collarbone.

“N-Neru!” Mammon watches her, pupils blown wide: a dark violet. He tries to sit up, but Neru plants a hand on his chest, straddling him. Mammon watches as she reaches down under her skirt to slide fingers down her slit. A small sigh escapes her, and Mammon’s cock throbs. This is what he had been thinking about: watching her touch herself in slow, methodical movements. Taking all the time that they could never seem to get. It’s hypnotic. Neru bunches her skirt over her thighs, revealing pale yellow panties slick with want, and his breath catches. Mammon wants to taste her, no, devour her.

The cell phone screams to life again. Mammon throws his head back into the pillows. “Fucking shit! What do they fucking want-“a guttural moan cuts him off as Nehru grinds down on his length. He’s already so far gone, the friction of her panties the best distraction from his useless brothers.

“Mamm-on,” Neru whimpers, grinding down again, “Need you now.” She fingers her panties and pulls them to the side, revealing her mound pink and we. Mammon can’t keep his eyes off it. She can’t hide the feral hunger as she sinks, already perfect for him. Neru keens at the stretch of his cock inside her. In any normal situation, she’d keep still, get used to his girth inside her. But the demands of the day had frustrated her, and absence does make the heart grow fonder. Once her hips are flush against his, Neru begins a steady, rocking pace.

Mammon’s eyes roll back as he’s enveloped in the warmth of her Fuck baby just like that. Pussy so good. He knows he’s speaking praises and expletives, but even his voice feels a distance away from the feeling of velvet walls. He can hear Neru whimpering her praises. Head rolled forward, cheeks flushed red. God damn, she was beautiful.

“Neru,” he feels her flutter around his cock at her name, “Neru, baby,” She moans again, pacing faster onto him. Mammon growls and reaches to catch her hips. “Ya gotta stop, baby,’ he chuckles, “it’s too good.”

She doesn’t stop.

Neru bounces up and down her thighs, burning lost in the churning of her pleasure. Watching the way Mammon’s eyes roll back and relishing in the way he grips her hip: nails digging into her flesh.

“Fuck - Neru,” Mammon is pleading a mess. She can feel him tense under her. He wouldn’t last much longer. Neru catches his eyes and smiles.

“Let go, Mammon,” she whimpers, and that’s all it takes for him to release and release and release into her. He shudders and gasps, and Neru feels herself fluttering around him, clenching tighter as she milks him.

He finally has the wear with all to hold her still. He groans with a twitch and then breaths a heavy sigh.

“Fucking shit, woman,” he curses, holding them still, “that was -,” he huffs, “wow.”

Neru smiles at him, eyes still glassy with lust. Mammon’s entranced by the flush that starts at her cheeks and disappears down her neck into her shirt. He gains enough strength to push her off with a whimper, gently maneuvering her to the bed. He crawls over and litters kisses across her forehead, cheeks, and nose. Never in his eternity of living did he think something so beautiful could be his. Her giggles lit his heart aglow. And maybe it was that after sex rush of emotion, or perhaps it was because it had been too damn long.

“I love you,” he whispers.

A different heat blooms within her, and Neru smiles softly, reaching to caress his warm cheek, “I love you too,” she’s said it a thousand times, but he can’t get used to the gentle declaration. His face heats up in embarrassment, and he hides it under the guise of kissing her chest and stomach.

“Fuck!” He grumbles, “you’re just so fucking - Fuck I -“

Neru giggles, ready to tease him, but then she hears the distinct rip of her panties.

“Mammon-!” Mammon shoves her knees up to her chest, and she squeaks. He positions himself in front of her center and meets her eyes, cheeks still flushed.

“You’re just so fucking cute,” and he steals her response by licking a stripe up her center. Neru clamps a hand over her mouth, muffling her gasps. Mammon moans in satisfaction, tasting his release mixed with her juices. His tongue scoops himself out of her; he can’t get enough. Neru’s thighs are already tense and shaking in his hands. He glances up through long eyelashes to find her watching him. Hand still over mouth, face beet red, chest rising up and down faster now that she catches his gaze. Mammon hums around her and flattens his tongue against her clit. Neru arches her back, a high-pitched moan escaping her lips.

He smirks and continues his ministrations, eyes closing in fervor. He would devour Neru like this forever if he could. She was too sweet for anyone else but him. He was her first, and he’d be her last. Neru’s pants were becoming louder like she did when she was close. Mammon didn’t want to stop. Didn’t care if she was going to be over-sensitive. Her pleasure triggered his greed, and he needed -

“Mammon!” the pounding on his door breaks him of his trance. Neru tries to pull away as Lucifer’s voice calls for him again, “Mammon, you have not yet explained this bill from the other day.”

Mammon looks from the door to his girlfriend, who is very clearly ravished and looking very unsatisfied. His grip had weekend against her, and when Neru looked his way, she smiled a sad smile: a, we’ll have to continue this another time, smile.

“No,” Mammon growls, and when Neru continues to move, he grabs her legs again, “I said no.”

She tries to object, but Mammon pulls Neru flush against him, arms wrapping around her thighs and over her stomach. His lips immediately find her clit, and he begins to suck on the bundle of nerves, eyes never leaving hers. At once, she’s back on her climb. Neru tries to push him away, but they both know it’s fruitless. Her face is flushed, the brightest it’s ever been, and he’ll have to ask if maybe she’s got a slight voyeur kink.

Neru’s moans and pants get louder. She’s chanting his name, almost sobbing it. Her stomach tightens, and she doesn’t want to come when Lucifer can probably hear them on the other side of the door. But Mammon’s pushing her to a place she can’t come back from, so far that the logical part of her gets smaller and smaller till all she feels is his lips on her.

With a final suck of her clit, Neru spasms against him. Her mouth opens in a silent cry, eyes rolling back. He works her through her orgasm as she finds her voice. Hiccuping his name until finally weakly pushes at his head, signaling no more. Mammon gives her one final tender kiss before pulling away. He can feel her on his lips and chin, and he so wished he could go back and savor more.

“Now that that’s over,” Lucifer calls irritation thick in his voice, “I still need to speak to you, Mammon.”

“Conjugal visit is over Mammon!” Asmo’s voice calls sweetly, “but thanks for the show.”

Mammon throws a pillow at the door, shouting, shut up! He looks at Neru, who is very clearly embarrassed, but she can’t help a giggle that turns into a burst of laughter. He glares at her and tries to duck back down to her, but she holds him back.

“Down boy,” she teases, still breathless, “we’ve still got work to do.” Mammon licks his lips and climbs over to kiss her deeply.

“Fine,” he grumbles. He kisses her again, nipping her lip lightly, “but maybe we should consider getting a place for ourselves.”

[jkstompers]

noise complaints | myg

pairing: min yoongi x female reader

summary: yoongi is tired of his loud, video game addicted roommate, so he decides to move out and get his own apartment for some peace and quiet. but with his luck, gets you as his neighbor: a girl who plays bass in a band and hates the feeling of earbuds in her ears.

word count: 5.8k

genre: neighbor!au, producer yoongi, bassist oc, pwp ( ；∀；) i tried but rlly it’s just... smut

warnings: mature!! (18+!), explicit language, smut, making out, fingering, dom!yoongi, he’s a little mean

author’s note: hi!!!!!! in honor of yoongi’s birthday, i wanted to post this fic that i had sitting in my drafts! i hope u enjoy!! (´⌣`ʃƪ) pls let me know what u think!

banner pic creds here <3

yoongi doesn’t know how to tell his roomate, mark, that his gaming obsession has driven him to take extreme measures that consist of: moving out. he never stops playing video games. all day, all night, his eyes are fixed on the computer or tv screen, always screaming to his team mates about where to go or who’s fucking up. yoongi’s not sure if he can take it anymore.

he’s finally saved up enough to move into an apartment of his own, he’s been planning this for almost 6 months; already visited the apartment complex, discussed prices, background checks, etc. all yoongi really needs to do is finish signing the papers and start moving in.

he decides to just let mark know, no sugarcoat. as yoongi expected, mark practically begs on his knees for him to stay. his parents are paying for his share of the apartment but only if he splits the cost with a roommate, but yoongi’s gone through two years of it already, he’s over it. over the next few days, mark watches yoongi dejectedly as he packs his things.

by the end of the week, yoongi has finished packing and already signed the lease. he tells mark ‘good luck’ and leaves him in the dust, hopefully he’ll find another roommate, but that’s beyond yoongi’s concern now. all he has to worry about now is unpacking his boxes in his brand new apartment.

he looks around at the empty space, with the boxes cornered in one section. he smiles to himself, no noisy roomates, no unwashed dishes, no dirty laundry, ah, finally. peace and qui—

and that’s when he hears the blare of your speakers, it’s not loud enough for the entire complex to hear, but the music obviously bleeds through the shared wall. yoongi groans, knowing that this could be a complete repeat of mark. he’s not sure if he should knock on your door and ask you to lower the music down, it’s only his first day here. don’t you treat your neighbors with respect? why are you so loud?

yoongi decides to ignore it for now. he unpacks his things and starts furnishing the room so he can have a place to sleep for the night. when everything is put together, he feels the weight of the day; how much he’s been lifting and how he’s now renting an apartment hits him all at once. the dull pain resonates in his arms, his head starting to ache, and you’re still playing your fucking music. he can’t take it anymore, especially not with this ache getting worse.

yoongi feels his fist knock angrily against your door three times, he waits for you to open the door. except, he was not expecting a pretty girl to answer, he was expecting maybe an obnoxious frat guy; he’s absolutely flustered. you stand there and look up at him confused, “hi? did you need something?” your voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

“i’m— uh, i’m your neighbor, i’m sorry to disrupt, but if you could just lower your music down a bit, i’m really tired, and—” he starts but a gasp of excitement leaves you, cutting him off.

“my neighbor?! that apartment has been empty for so long! i’m so sorry, i was just so used to no one being able to hear! welcome! i’m ___!” you greet him cheerfully, taking his hands into yours and shaking them. yoongi feels his cheeks turn pink, your hands are soft and you’re so pretty.

“my name is yoongi,” he replies, he stands there not really knowing how to respond to the way you’re so excited. he wishes he could reciprocate but his head is pounding, all he wants to do is sleep.

you pick up on his energy, letting go of his hands to wave him off, “i’ll turn the music off for today, get some rest, yoongi, if you need help, some sugar or something, you can always just knock on my door,” you smile.

yoongi nods, “thank you, ___, goodnight.”

“goodnight, yoongi! nice meeting you,” you reply, closing your door. you blush behind the door, a neighbor? a cute one at that? there’s a sudden rush of adrenaline pulsing through your veins, testing you, telling you to blast your music just so he could come back and you could look at him one more time. but you decide it’s better not to, he said he was tired, maybe tomorrow.

yoongi returns to his apartment, thankful that you kept to your word and kept the music off. his body drifts his pounding head to sleep.

two weeks had gone by before yoongi’s eyes, he spent most of it buying furniture since the apartment looked so bare. one upside to a loft apartment was that he didn’t have to buy too much furniture, a bed, a couch, a tv, and maybe a rug was enough for him, for now of course.

in the time that’s passed, he’s learned that you like playing music when you’re studying, cleaning, when you’re doing anything really. whenever he thinks it’s too loud, he knocks through the wall, you get the hint most of the time. he’s also learned that you can play the bass and that you’re in a band. speaking of that, you’re having a meeting with them right now, and yoongi can hear every word of it.

your band mates decided to barge into your apartment today, waking you from your study nap and telling you that you all need to practice. the volume of their voices is jarring, you never realized how loud you and your surroundings were until yoongi moved in. you’re suddenly conscious about your volume at all times, his knocks whenever you were loud always made you feel terrible, but you couldn’t help but blush whenever you thought of him. you were torn, be loud and get his attention or be quiet and get on his good side.

“___! grab your shit and let’s go!” jungkook shouts. he’s the guitarist and lead singer of the band; he gets impatient sometimes.

“oh just let her daydream for a little bit, she’s probably thinking about her hot neighbor,” seulgi teases. she’s the drummer and your best friend. you don’t let her comment pass so easily, but you try to ignore the way your face heats up.

“you think he’s hot?” you quip back. a smirk on your face as you zip your bass into it’s case. yoongi is surprised at the way he can hear your voices so clearly, he wonders if you guys always talk this loud or if the walls are really that thin. “you haven’t even seen him yet,” you lug your bag over your shoulder.

“he sounds hot.” she shrugs, taking a bite of the apple she stole from your fruit basket. jungkook grows more and more antsy the longer you both talk.

“where’s taehyung anyway?” you ask. the realization comes to you when you feel a missing presence, knowing your 4th member would say something about yoongi.

“how nice of you to finally ask, he’s been waiting in the car for you slow pokes, let’s get going.” jungkook rushes, pushing you and seulgi out of the door. you turn to lock the door when you hear the door to your left slide open.

“oh my god, jungkook look, he’s hot.” seulgi smacks jungkook’s shoulder to make him look. your eyes are glued on the figure standing outside of apartment 77.

“hi— hey, yoongi,” you greet him while locking your door. it’s embarrassing the way the three of you are all almost drooling at the sight of him.

“hi, ___,” he sends a small smile to you, looking over to your bandmates hesitantly. yoongi notices jungkook, an assumption is made in his head almost immediately, boyfriend?

you scramble next to them and introduce them, “yoongi, these are my bandmates, seulgi, she plays the drums, and jungkook, he plays guitar and sings, there’s taehyung too, he plays guitar too but he— he’s um, in the car.”

“ah, nice to meet you.” he nods, greeting them as well. “i actually have to get to work, but it was cool meeting you all,” he excuses himself. you all wave to him.

“way to be fucking awkward guys,” you scold them when you’re all walking to the car. taehyung looks up from his phone to see the three of you walking his way, he starts the car once you open the door.

“hey, not our fault he’s good looking,” jungkook shrugs and seulgi holds her hand up for a high five, which he gladly gives her.

“not fair! you guys got to see ___’s hot neighbor while i was stuck in the car? i knew i should have just came in,” taehyung grumbles, pulling out of the apartment complex’s parking lot.

“it just so happened that he was leaving his apartment the same time we were, maybe you’ll meet him too tae,” you rub his arm. a somewhat sarcastic tone in your voice. taehyung rolls his eyes, starting the drive to the studio.

the music in the car was overshadowed by taehyung and seulgi arguing about when you and yoongi would finally hook up. you had to remind them that he hasn’t even been here a month yet, and that you guys barely talk besides the small hellos and awkward run ins when you’re doing laundry. it seems to keep them quiet, taehyung parks in the lot and you all move into the studio, making your way to the practice room the owners thankfully let you use to rehearse.

a couple songs are played and you all vote for a break. taehyung and jungkook having a guitar battle, seulgi leaning back against the wall on her phone, and you, need to pee! you leave the room and use the bathroom as usual, but a familiar bleach blonde head turns the corner and starts to walk down the hallway towards you, the breath you’re holding turns into a gasp when you realize it’s him. “yoongi?! why are you here?”

he looks up from the ground, looking as surprised as you when he realizes you were talking to him, “i work here, why are you here? are you following me?” he grills, you scoff at the question.

“i’m with my band, we’re rehearsing,” you explain. he raises his eyebrows, you’re not sure what it means. “you don’t believe me?” you pose.

“it’s just a little suspicious,” he shrugs, yoongi knows exactly what he’s doing. he hopes his hint makes sense to you, he’s never really been good at flirting. a familiar feeling erupts in his stomach, one that people could call butterflies whenever he saw you. he really just wants to see you play, and to hear you sing, that’s what he wants the most.

“uh, i can bring you to them? i promise i’m here with my band,” you laugh, warmth spreading to your cheeks. there is no way in hell that you’re going to play in front of yoongi. you were confident sure, but your embarrassing crush on him will make your fingers shake when you try to press the strings down. it’ll be a shitshow!

“can i pee first?” his small laugh brings a smile to your face. boys pee fast, you’ve learned that over time, so yoongi doesn’t take long. you’re both walking back down the hallway, “your boyfriend isn’t angry that you’re with me?” the random question makes your steps stutter.

“i’m sorry, what? boyfriend?” your eyebrows are furrowed as you stare up at him, his face isn’t showing any sign of humor, he’s serious.

“you’re not dating one of your band mates? isn’t that how it usually goes?” his lips purse as you continue to walk to the room that your band is occupying, he’s so serious that it makes you laugh.

“oh my god, yoongi, i’m single as a pringle, they’re my best friends, our number one rule is to never date within the band, that’s how things get messy,” you explain. a weight is taken off of yoongi’s shoulders, it wasn’t his fault he thought of it; you’re beautiful and surrounded by people that probably want you as much as he does.

“oh,” he answers, you both turn the corner and approach the door, “good to know.” the door opens to your three members looking at the two of you with raised eyebrows.

“oh my god, it’s him,” seulgi points to yoongi with her drumstick. you wave your hand to signal her to put it down, ‘it’s rude!’ you mouth.

“are you yoongi?” taehyung asks, taking his guitar and putting it down on it’s stand. yoongi nods, holding his hand out to shake taehyung’s, which he doesn’t take. instead taehyung pulls him into a hug, yoongi doesn’t expect the sudden action of affection, his arms not knowing what to do. “it’s so nice to finally meet you! ___ talks about you a lot,” taehyung’s confession makes your face flush.

“taehyung! what the fuck!? i’ve talked about you like twice, yoongi, i swear,” you defend yourself, pushing taehyung off of him. you laugh awkwardly, yoongi shoots you both a gummy smile.

“nice to meet you, taehyung,” he completely ignores your defense. he finds it cute, your flustered face as you try to tell taehyung to shut up.

“anyways,” you huff. “yoongi thinks i followed him here, so i am showing proof that i’m actually here with you guys and not stalking him.”

your friends snort at the same time, “actually, yoongi, we have no idea who this girl is! i think she’s following you,” taehyung whisper-shouts, you smack his shoulder.

“no but really, ___ we were just gonna call it a day, seulgi said she has to go to a family dinner soon and taehyung said he was hungry,” jungkook speaks up. it’s then that you realize that their instruments were almost all packed. yoongi looks down at you, a small smile on his face once he realizes what they’re trying to do.

“i leave to pee for five minutes and you guys hatch a plan to ditch me?!” you cross your arms over your chest.

“well… we just told you, so, technically we didn’t ditch you, also i can’t drop you off, yoongi, you can drop her off, right?” taehyung smiles to him.

“i—“ yoongi starts but you cut him off with plans to scold your members. they knew exactly what they were doing and you weren’t having it.

“taehyung, you’re dropping me off, let’s not bother yoongi,” you move to pack your bass but yoongi shakes his head.

“i can drop you off,” he smiles.

“oh, see! perfect! thank you, yoongi.” taehyung grabs his hand and gives him a good shake, before you know it your members are out the door.

you sigh as you lift your case and sling it over your shoulder, “it’s okay, yoongi, i can walk.”

he rolls his eyes, “don’t be ridiculous, are you hungry? we can eat first.”

his hand is outstretched and you’re not sure what it means, does he want to hold your hand? but no, he’s asking for your bass, so he can hold it instead of you. you reject his offer, “i can hold it.”

“you’re really stubborn,” he notes. it makes you snort.

“you’re not into stubborn girls?” the joke slips from your mouth before you can think.

this is the perfect time, yoongi thinks. “if it’s you, maybe i’ll make an exception.”

you try your best not to show any type of reaction, but you can’t really ignore the way your heartbeat quickened. yoongi leads you to his car, putting your bass in the trunk as you get comfortable in the front seat. he follows you soon enough and is driving out of the studio parking lot.

“you don’t have to work?” you question. getting into the car of someone you barely know is quite risky of you, but he was your neighbor, and he was hot. that doesn’t give you a reason to trust him, though for some reason, you think you can rely on yoongi, it’s a gut feeling.

“technically i work all day, i’m on my own schedule, i basically spend the entire day in the studio,” he explains. his focus is on the road but from his peripheral he can see your body turned to him, and your eyes glued on him.

“workaholic?” you guessed, he smiles.

“you could say that.”

“that’s good then, i’m giving you a reason for a break!” you clap, your nervousness fading as you start to get comfy with yoongi.

a friendship blooms from that lucky, odd encounter that day.

you forgot how long it’s been since you officially met yoongi and spent the day with him, maybe two months? three months ago? you never kept track. but you do remember that things changed after that. the two of you so obviously flirting with each other whenever you had the chance. yoongi would offer you a ride to the studio, which you greedily took whenever he asked; because he was a cool guy to be with, and in all honesty you were trying to put the moves on him. you’re not sure if he’s taking the hints though, you’ve never been good at the shy type of flirting, most of the time you’re upfront.

speaking of being upfront: yoongi hasn’t really been complaining about your noise lately, and it’s been eerily quiet on his end. no knocks on the wall when your volume was a tad bit higher than usual, no texts telling you to ‘be quiet’ when you were practicing late at night, nothing. you figure it’s because the two of you have grown a lot closer. hanging out together and even making some inside jokes together type of close.

it’s soon that you figure out why yoongi hasn’t been upfront, complaining to you about your noise, because he talked to your apartment manager about it. you knew namjoon well, he was one of your classmates in college. his father originally owned the place, so he’s been taking over for him. you’ve grown close to namjoon due to situations that left you outside of your apartment multiple times without your keys. his master key saved your ass one too many times. so, when you received a letter from him in the mail this morning with a big red ‘important’ stamp on it. you knew you were in trouble.

the words noise complaints, your neighbor, and eviction were the only ones you needed to read for you to be stomping towards yoongi’s apartment. you didn’t care that it was ten in the morning and you’re banging on yoongi’s door. you knocked nonstop until he opened up. his sleepy face scrunched in confusion as he stood before you.

“___? what’s wrong?” his morning voice could have made you melt, if you weren’t so fucking angry. you step past him, moving inside his apartment. “okay, come in, i guess,” yoongi says as he shuts the door behind you.

“you complained about me?! i got a fucking letter from namjoon! he never sends letters!” you raise your voice. it’s too early in the morning to be yelling, your voice is a bit rough, it sounds like you’re croaking.

it’s also way too early for yoongi to be dealing with this, so his voice is soft when he says, “be quiet, we’re gonna get complaints from the other neighbors now too.” he walks up to you and your very angry expression. he just looks so kissable right now, it’s making you angrier. how could he look so perfect when you’re mad at him? that’s so rude!

you lower your voice when you ask, complying to his demand. you cross your arms over your chest, “why would you do that?”

yoongi laughs.

it makes your eyebrows furrow. was he not taking you seriously? you loved this apartment, you needed to live here. it makes the anger boil a little hotter. “you think this is funny, yoongi? i’ve—” your voice is raising once more.

this time yoongi rolls his eyes. “shut up.” his voice grew deeper than it already was, the bass traveling straight to your lower belly.

you try to act as if it had no effect on you, but your small silence before you spoke made things a little obvious. “excuse me? shut up?” you scoff. your feet carrying you closer to yoongi, breaking the distance in effort to intimidate. yoongi wasn’t one to be scared, if anything, he found it funnier.

but the way that your pretty face looks when you’re angry makes yoongi want to do more, wants to push and push because he can feel the tension between you both. you can too. “yeah, you’re so goddamn loud all the time, shut the fuck up.” he moves a little closer, the distance between you both is almost none.

it makes your eyes flicker to his lips. here you were, thinking that you were gonna teach yoongi a lesson, yet you want to kiss him. “want me to shut up?” your eyes move back to his, making eye contact. he licks his lips in anticipation. “make me,” you press.

you feel his soft hand against your cheek first, leading you to his lips. then it was the plush of his lips against yours. this feeling could definitely make you shut up. before you knew it, you were pushing yoongi over to his couch. he breaks the kiss to plop down onto the couch, you follow suit, straddling his lap.

“if you wanted to make out with me, you could have just asked.” you spoke before reattaching your lips.

he smiles into the kiss, “where’s the fun in that?”

the kiss deepens, tongues exploring each other’s mouths and small whimpers escaping your throat. they go straight to yoongi’s groin, you can feel his hard cock against your core through your sweatpants. instinctively, you grind down, the feeling makes him groan out.

his large hands move to your ass, running over them and trailing up to your waist. his hands sliding under your shirt, you know you aren’t wearing a bra, and yoongi finds out soon after. his thumbs running right over your hard nipples, “eager?” he smirks.

you roll your eyes, “i’m just cold.” the lie makes yoongi scoff, tweaking your nipples between his thumb and index fingers. now, goosebumps raise over your skin, and it wasn’t because of the cold.

“take your shirt off,” he speaks against your lips. usually, you weren’t one to follow orders, your rebellious spirit screaming in your head, telling you to take control. but you’ve never wanted anything more than to let yoongi have you, let him do whatever he wants to you. because outside of this, he just seems so nice, never mean, never demanding. you can’t help but indulge in this new side of yoongi you’ve discovered.

so you’re taking your shirt off, the breeze created by his air conditioner makes you shiver, but yoongi's warm hands are there to comfort you. running them over your breasts, squeezing them just right as he kisses down your throat. “y-yoongi—” you whimper. his lips find a certain spot that has you grinding harder onto his dick.

“you aren’t very patient,” he speaks against your skin. “i’ll let it slide this time.” a tender kiss to your neck is placed before he lingers on the spot a little longer, sucking and licking, making sure to leave a pretty red mark. he makes his way to your nipple, wrapping his mouth around the bud and sucking. the feeling makes you throw your head back, his hand tweaks your other nipple, refusing to neglect it.

it was true, you were not patient. you hated waiting too long for something, just like how you hate the feeling of your warm core go uncared for. the grinding wasn’t enough at this point, you wanted more, needed it really. “are you gonna fuck me or not?” you push him gently off of your nipple.

an almost annoyed gaze is painted on his face, “are you going to beg?” he quirks an eyebrow.

you weren’t one to plead, “no.”

“then no,” he asserts. you purse your lips, complete dissatisfaction displayed on your face. “don’t worry, kitten, i’ll make you feel good.” yoongi gives in. he didn’t know how long he could hold back, your attitude makes him want to check you, make you cum as many times he wants you to until you’re obeying.

the nickname makes you drip. he’s pushing up from below, his leg kneeling onto the couch as he lays you down. your head lays against the pillow he has on the couch, yoongi gives you a swift kiss before he moves down, trailing kisses on the valley of your breasts and your stomach, stopping just before the waistband of your sweatpants. “yoongi,” you mewl.

“hm? wanna beg now?” he challenges. his fingers teasingly slipping under the band. your body reacts so easily to his touch, your hips slightly jerking up at the graze of his hands.

but you’re stubborn, not wanting to let yoongi win even though the only thing you want right now is for him to make you feel good. “no, never.” you shake your head.

yoongi doesn't verbally reply, instead, nodding and smirking to himself. “can i eat you out then?” he asks. you don’t trust your words, so you nod, knowing you’ll fall into the trap yoongi has set. “i need to hear you say it, kitten.”

“yes,” you quickly say.

yoongi quirks a brow. “yes, what?”

you roll your eyes, just once, you tell yourself. “yes, please.”

“good girl,” he praises. you hate to admit that you liked the way he called you a good girl. your sweatpants and panties are pulled down at the same time, revealing your wet pussy. “so pretty, baby.” he positions himself between your spread legs. you bite your bottom lip in anticipation.

kisses against your thighs and pubic bone are what he starts off with, then a brief kiss to your clit that makes you gasp. “oh, god—” you lean your head back against the couch.

“also, just to let you know, the letter was a joke,” yoongi breathes. mouth ghosting your lips, where you need him the most.

at first you didn’t pay attention to what he said, a hum leaving your lips until then you realized, “what?!”

“i thought it’d be funny to scare you a little bit, namjoon and i are friends, i asked him if he could do it for me.” he explains with a smile on his face.

you rolled your eyes. you knew it was too serious to be namjoon, his style was more so speaking, not letters. you couldn’t be mad at him, at least you weren’t in trouble. but you play it up for the fun, “will you make it up to me?” a sly look on your face.

“what do you want?” he leans his head against your thigh, waiting patiently for your answer. his fingers ever so gently running up and down your thighs.

“your cock,” you demand with a mischievous smile. your hands run through his hair, eyes pleading because you won’t allow your mouth to let the words out.

yoongi acts like he thinks about it, but all he truly wants, is to devour your and make you feel so good. “you don’t deserve it.” he denies you of the pleasure you want, but he surprises you, running his tongue along your slit.

“oh— oh, yoongi,” you mewl. your hands moving to play with your boobs, but yoongi knocks your hands away. he directs them to his hair, telling you to pull. his hands replace yours, playing and tweaking with your nipples as his tongue does the work.

“taste so good, baby.” yoongi loves the sight of you so vulnerable in front of him. you’re bare, naked while yoongi still has all his clothes on. he loves it. your eager body twitching from the ministrations of his tongue. he pulls away for a second, “don’t cum until i say so.”

“that’s not— umph!” you start but yoongi retracts his hands from your breasts, bringing them back to your thighs to spread them further apart. your lips reveal your sweet spot for yoongi to take, and he’s relentless. the taste of you on his tongue drives him crazy. “that’s not fair,” you moan out.

yoongi doesn’t care. he loves being in control. so when your phone starts to ring, yoongi thinks this is the best time to assert dominance. “answer it,” he commands. he pulls away from your pussy, the loss of the feeling of his tongue makes you groan out in displeasure. in turn, yoongi rubs his middle and ring fingers against your clit. it makes you gasp. he slips the fingers in, your walls pulsating against his fingers. another moan leaves your lips. you were completely ignoring the rings coming from your phone. he repeats himself, “answer the phone, baby.”

“but,” you spoke. your worry being that you were so wound up and yoongi’s fingers were still residing inside of you. you knew it would be way too obvious.

“they won’t know,” he assures. a gentle touch against your thigh comforting you, making you believe this was a good idea.

your fucked out brain obliges, your hand moving to reach for your phone. jungkook’s contact name displayed on the screen, you press the green button and place the phone next to your ear. “jungkook? what’s up?” you answer. yoongi’s eyes locked onto yours as you speak.

“speaker,” he mouths. you nod, mindlessly obliging. taking the phone away from your ear and pressing the speaker button. his fingers dangerously still in your pussy, ready to cause chaos whenever he felt like it.

“dude! guess fucking what!” jungkook shouts over the phone. yoongi pushes deeper, bottoming out his fingers. it makes your eyes roll back, a quiet gasp escaping your lips.

you’re moving the phone away so he doesn’t hear it, but yoongi is pushing your hand back into position. “what?” you cough, trying to cover the noise.

“you okay? you sound… weird.” jungkook snorts over the phone, you can hear seulgi and taehyung in the back, their bickering all too familiar.

“i— i’m good.” you nod even though he can’t see you.

“okay, well, this guy from a record label called earlier, he said he wants to take us all out to eat and talk about our future!” jungkook informs. your eyes widen. a record deal?! even yoongi reacts, a cute, surprised look on his face. how funny was it that you were receiving this news with yoongi’s fingers fucking you.

“you’re lying.” you sit up a little bit, leaning onto your forearm. yoongi decides to be nice, letting his fingers stay stagnant in your hole so you can enjoy the news.

“i’m serious! we’re on the way to yours right now to pick you up, be ready in five minutes,” he tells you.

“right now?!” you exclaim. yoongi smirks, starting to pumping his fingers in and out of you, making your breaths a little more labored. “oh— fuck,” you groaned, you tried to cover it up by making it sound like you were annoyed. but anyone could be able to tell what you were doing, the squelch of your pussy loud enough for the entire apartment complex to hear probably.

“what the hell are you—” jungkook starts but you cut him off, yoongi’s fingers moving faster and the string in your belly about to snap from the tension.

“okay, jungkook! bye! love you! see you in a bit!” you rush the words out and press the big red button to hang up, throwing your phone onto the floor as yoongi leans over you with a smile on his face.

“congratulations, baby.” he punctuates his sentence with a quick circle around your clit. you’re so wound up, you could feel tears starting to build up in your eyes.

“yoongi, please, please let me cum.” you beg, giving in to his desires. the sound of your begging is music to his ears. he smirks, quickening the tight circles around your clit. your legs spreading wider if that was even possible.

yoongi’s plans were cut short due to your new plans, but he didn’t mind. he was happy for you, and he’s never wanted to make someone cum as much as he does now. “alright, kitten, cum whenever you want,” he whispers in your ear. his fingers coated in your wetness gliding against your clit, it feels way too good. the string in your belly snapping as soon as he gave you permission.

you found yourself letting out some of the loudest moans because yoongi was just that good. “holy fuck, yoongi,” you gasp. your chest rises and falls quickly, taking in as many breaths as possible.

“good job, baby.” he kisses your neck, letting you recover before slipping his fingers out and bringing them up to your lips. at first you furrow your eyebrows, this isn’t something you usually do; but when he says, “open,” you find yourself obliging easily. “good girl,” he smiles as you suck your cum off of his fingers.

you pull his fingers from your mouth when you’re sure you’ve sucked them clean, “i got a record deal dinner, min!” you rush to put your clothes on. yoongi tries his best to help, but all he wants to do is give you a big hug. he lets you put your clothes on before he’s holding you in his grasp, while you’re trying to make your way to his door. the two of you wobbling to his door.

“let me kiss you first, rockstar.” he smiles, his hand gently taking ahold of your face and giving you a kiss. it tastes just like you, the sultry memory that will live in yoongi’s brain for as long as it’s able.

he tries to kiss you once more, but you’re pushing him away. “i gotta go, yoongi,” you giggle. his hands holding you close to him, your back pressed against his front door as you kiss each other sloppily. “yoongi!” you smile, more laughs erupting as he helps you open the door. as soon as the door slides open, yoongi’s eyes move behind you, a sly smile on his face.

you turn to see your three band mates, all of their mouths agape. “i fucking told you! pay up, idiots!” seulgi smacks the both taehyung and jungkook’s shoulders.

your face blushes tomato red. you try to hide your face as you open your apartment door. before you turn the key, you hear yoongi congratulate the four of you. “good luck at your label meeting! make sure they don’t scam you,” he advises. your bandmates laugh, thanking yoongi and moving into your apartment. they don’t let you live down the embarrassment for the entire night.

when you come back home, you sit on your couch. a smile taking over your face when you think about how great the day was. you think the dinner went perfect, and when you hear a knock on your door, it has you rushing to open it.

yoongi stands outside your door with a cupcake and a single lit candle stuck in it. “congratulations!— it went well right?”

you stand in front of him, a sweet smile on your face as you nod. “i think they loved us,” you pull him into your apartment.

“of course they did! you guys are amazing!” yoongi hugs you, holding the cupcake above your head so it doesn’t get in your hair.

the rest of the night you and yoongi enjoy each other’s presence and the two of you talk about everything and nothing.

yoongi says the cupcake is just for you, but you take a knife and split it, “for us.” you give him a quick peck before eating your half, and then kissing him once more.

for us. it repeats in yoongi’s mind.

us.

yeah, he’d like that.

[etherealino]

the things i do with you — l. minho

synopsis: minho wasn’t feeling the best, prompting him to call you. so you decided to do things with him.

genre: idolverse, fluff and also, soft!minho

warning(s): swearing, minho having a bad day, mentions of beating up (bcs of the movie reader was watching lmao)

wc: 1.2k

note:  for @missinghan​ we’ve been screaming about minho lately, so this is just perfect. ily, sweetheart, to more screaming withy you. 🥳  also im sorry i suck at titles, i hate it. i’m going through it. i miss the boy. and we’re given one week break from school yay. excuse the grammatical errors, i didn’t proofread.

with the loud ringing from your left, your body rose from the sheets as you looked at the side to see your phone wildly making the said sound. you groaned lightly, turning to your back as you picked your phone. you slid your thumb across the screen as you pressed the phone against your ear. “hello? good morning?” you mumble as you slowly close your eyes, the comforting sheets lulling you once again.

“it’s 1 am, baby.” you hear from the other side of the line, a light chuckle following. ah. so it was minho. you smile, lightly chuckling yourself. “did i wake you?” minho questions and you hum, shaking your head ‘no’. when minho doesn’t hear a thing, he calls, “baby?”

“huh? i mean, no.” you say, not wanting to feel him bad. you open your eyes, rubbing your eyes as you sit up on the bed.

“i take that as a yes.” minho says. “i’m sorry baby. you should go back to sleep.”

“no, no!” you said, panicking lightly not wanting him to end the call as well. “i’m awake, already. it’s fine, baby. how are you?” you ask minho and he only responds with a hum.

minho who was on the other side, looks up at the ceiling of the dorms, thinking of what is he supposed to say. he doesn’t usually pour his feelings out to you when he feels bad, he just hugs you until he feels better. there was just something about today that he felt the need to call you and hopefully, maybe tell you about his day.

“min?” you call gently. 

“can i come over tomorrow? later, rather.” minho asks and you hum.

“of course, baby. you don’t need to ask, you can come over anytime.” you answer and minho smiles lightly. “what are you doing right now?” you ask as you wait for him to answer.

“watching attack on titan.” minho answers as he stares at the tv screen, but not really hearing the sounds as he lowered the volume earlier so the other members won’t wake up.

you stand up from your bed, snuggling yourself on minho’s hoodie that you are wearing as you walk to your living room, opening the tv as you played a movie (captain america: the winter soldier, to be specific). 

“is there a reason why you called, min?” you ask.

“i know, i don’t usually vent my feelings out—”

“you can.” you cut him off. minho holds himself from speaking, knowing you still have something to say. “just because it’s not what you usually do, doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to, you know?” you said and minho let his head fall on the head of the back rest of the couch. “...i know, lee know.” you mumble and minho laughs lightly. “tell me, go on.”

minho smiles, shaking his head. he really was lucky with you. “i just.. i couldn’t get anything right today. it was frustrating, i didn’t want to talk to anyone but i just.. i need  your comfort, y/n. i couldn’t even get the new song right. the choregraphy, i somehow keep on fucking it up. and...” minho cuts himself off with a light chuckle. “it’s not helping that i’m missing you—it’s only been a week since we last saw each other, but i don’t know. i’m really missing you.”

you chuckle lightly. “i miss you, too, darling.” you smile. “just.. take it slow, min. you’re amazing, you know? you just really need to rest for a bit. you’ve been overworking lately, i noticed. just take it slow. you’ll get it, better than just right. we have those moments, you know? that’s normal. so, don’t beat yourself up because of it, alright?”

“thank you, y/n. you’re amazing.” minho says and you smile.

“anytime, love.” you said. “i love you.”

“i love you more.” minho says and you could hear him lightly pouting.

“what are you doing now?” you ask.

“fixing this corner in the dorm. it’s kinda messy.” minho answers with a light chuckle. you look around your living room and see your unorganized bookshelf. guess, you can fix that as well. you stood up from the couch, turning the speaker mode in the call as you placed it on a table as you rearranged the books. “by the way,” minho says. “how was your day today?”

“alright.” you answered. “it was mom’s birthday, remember? i went to their house and everyone was there. they were looking for you. especially my niece. she wanted to call you but i stopped her, thinking we would catch you at a wrong time.”

minho lightly chuckles and smiles. “looks like you got competition, y/l/n.”

“i do.” you say with a laugh. “i’m just a lucky dame that you picked.”

minho smiles gently, humming lightly. “believe me, baby. i’m the one who’s lucky between the two of us.” minho says and you sigh, smiling at your phone.

“you’re... unusually sweet.” you say. “i mean, you are sweet but there’s still teasing. but  right now, non of that, huh.”

“you’ll get the original minho back tomorrow.” minho says with a light laugh and you laugh lightly.

“alright, then. what time will you come tomorrow?” you ask as you stack up the last book. you clapped your hands, removing the dust and taking a sanitizers to clean your hands.

“afternoon. i just want to cuddle with you.” minho admits. usually, he would say he’s going to do you a favor and cuddle with you but here he is right now. straightforward saying that he wants to cuddle you. you could get used to the minho. but your teasing minho was something else. either way, you love minho with all of your heart. “i’m gonna go eat something.”

you grabbed your phone, walking to the kitchen as you open your fridge and pull out a pint of ice cream. you pulled a spoon, uncapping the ice cream and started to eat. 

“baby?” minho calls.

“yeah, min?” you ask.

“are you.. doing what i’m doing?” minho asks.

you laugh lightly. “yes.” you answered, having a spoonful of ice cream. “i don’t know. i just thought that it’d be nice to do things with you even if you’re in another place.” you said with a laugh. “you know, like what we usually do just except you’re in the dorms, i’m in my unit.”

“yeah.” minho mumbles. “thank you, baby. that’s sweet.”

“i once saw mom did the same with dad when he had a trip and he felt kind of sad.” you said as you ate your ice cream. “that’s why i did the same. i hope it somehow lifted your spirits up.”

“that’s nice. spirits lifted the moment you fought your sleepiness just for me. i know how much you love to sleep.” minho says as he eats his own leftovers from dinner today.

“you’re an exception to everything.” you said with a smile, eyes locking on the tv screen as you watched bucky beating the best friend he forgot all about and steve letting bucky as he says the line that you love the most. “minho?”

“yeah, baby?”

then, you repeated the line: “i’m with you until the end of the line.”

minho smiles widely, completely forgetting about the shitty day he had. you are his love, his home, his safety haven, his everything at this point. minho could deal with the shitty days that were to come, knowing this won’t be the last one, but just as long as you’re there with him, he’s ready for what the universe is about to bring him, whether it be good or not. because he is with you until the end of the line, too.