#I only ever feel like something when I don't look that way
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thewriterghost · 2 days ago
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Hello Kisses
Pairing: poly!marauders x reader
Summary: Sirius loves to give hello kisses to his darlings.
Note: Hi, hello, hey, it's me. I can't believe it took me this long to post something new of my own! Work is eating me alive, you guys. Seriously. Anyways, I really hope you like this!!! Thanks for reading!
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Remus loves the lazy afternoons.
More importantly, he loves the lazy afternoons with you.
As the one with the least amount of energy in this relationship, considering his lovely boyfriends of course, you are the most eligible for the afternoon naps or the cuddles with book in hand.
Remus looks down at your peaceful expression as your head rests on his lap, eyes closed as you listen to Remus' gentle voice while he reads. For a moment, he thinks you are asleep with how comfortable you look. Until, of course, you smile without opening your eyes.
"Are you staring at me?" You ask, your playful voice almost imitating Sirius.
Remus smiles instead of pointing that out.
"How'd you know?" He asks quietly, not wanting to disturb the gentle silence in the house.
"You stopped reading, genius." You open your eyes to look at him, which only makes your smile widen as you see Remus peek at you from under the book he is holding.
"Maybe I was trying to create suspense." He replies, although you can see him trying to hide a smile of his own.
"I don't think romance is the right genre for that, love."
He wants to reply with a sarcastic or witty comeback, he really does, but how can he when your smile is lighting up the whole room? He can't quite find it in himself to interrupt it, honestly.
Yet, a moment later, the apartment door opens and interrupts it, and Remus finds himself unreasonably annoyed at it.
"Hello, my darlings." Sirius' voice echoes from the hallway.
And just like that, Remus' annoyance turns to a soft and mushy type of love inside him.
"Hey, Siri." You turn your head towards the hallway, signaling your boyfriend your whereabouts.
The raven-haired boy is quick to find you. Remus finds that the smile Sirius wears when he looks at the two of you, can rival the smile you had a minute ago; lighting up the room and making Remus feel all fuzzy inside.
As Remus puts his book down with a piece of napkin as a bookmark between the pages, Sirius walks up to him and leans in for a kiss.
"Hi." Remus whispers, ever so softly. You see Sirius smile and rather than answering verbally, he kisses Remus gently.
You don't get a chance to tease them about public display of affection between two parties in your living room, because a minute later Sirius leans in to Remus' lap for your kiss.
After he feels satisfied enough with his hello kisses, Sirius stands up straight to look around for your only other boyfriend who isn't present in the living room.
"Where's Jamie?" He asks to the two of you. Remus nods towards the bathroom.
"In the shower."
Remus watches as Sirius' face lights up with a mischievous grin as he stalks to the bathroom, quiet as a mouse. Remus' eyes follow his movements until he hears your soft voice from his lap.
"He'll barge in, won't he?" You sound like you're holding in a sigh but when he looks down at you, he sees the fond smile you always have around them.
"He has to get his kiss." Remus replies, shrugging as he repeats Sirius' usual excuse.
"Maybe I should start doing that." You look up at him with a playful glimmer in your eyes.
"Doing what?" He asks, voice still as quiet as before.
"Demanding kisses."
He smiles down at you, all warm yet playful in his own way.
"Dove, you want a kiss?"
"It doesn't count as demanding if you're offering."
"There's a reason you don't demand kisses." He leans down, his eyes flickering to your lips momentarily before he continues with a whisper. "We always offer."
You meet him halfway for the kiss and Remus feels you smile into it.
"Pads! Oh my fucking God!" James' voice manages to get to the living room.
Remus pulls away, feeling your giggles before they even reach his ears. Your laughter mixes with Sirius'.
"You scared the crap out of me!" Remus shakes his head as he finds himself unable to hold his chuckling at James' continuous exclamations.
"Stop yelling and give me my kiss!" Sirius' voice cuts James', making you laugh even more. Remus thinks it's more of a win-win for him now that the scenery for him rivals even the most beautiful sunsets themselves.
"I'm in the shower!" You hear James' voice turn somewhat bashful, Sirius' affection working on him as much as it is working on Remus and you.
Remus hears some shuffling and some water splashes, and soon enough, Sirius emerges from the bathroom with a playful grin.
"I got all my hello kisses, in case you were wondering."
Remus shakes his head with a fond smile. This may not feel like a lazy afternoon entirely, but he finds himself loving this more.
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vulgarmaw · 3 days ago
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So, I've worked retail and worked alongside a few LP's.
1. There are almost always cameras.
2. In many states the attempt to conceal is considered the same as theft.
3. They have to watch you steal it in many places in order for it to be considered stealing.
4. They also have to have eyes on you the entire time or you can say that you set it down somewhere.
5. Bathrooms, and changing rooms aren't supposed to have cameras (some have ways around this) and therefore the footage wouldn't be shown.
6. Never admit to anything ever forever until you talk to your lawyer.
So, don't try to hide it, especially while on camera. But they have to have you on camera taking it or they have to visually see you take it in order for them to be able to push persecution.
Which means, if you bring it into either the bathroom or changing room then they can't legally do much except refuse you entry to the store.
They have no legal right to stop you from leaving, but they can still definitely call the cops on you. Either way you say nothing.
You're not nearly as slick as you think you are, you just got lucky that someone wasn't watching the cameras and didn't go back to check them.
Most loss prevention people record when someone steals until they have enough stolen to make it a felony.
If you want to see if you're being followed, carrying product into a restroom and waiting to see if someone shows up afterwards is a great way to find out.
If you feel like you're being followed or watched (minus for mental health reasons obviously) then you probably are.
LP generally wears regular clothes with a radio tucked under the back of their shirt and turned down. You can notice it if you pay attention.
They also intentionally look busy. Playing on their phone, staring at random unrelated products, etc.
Usually they're watching you on camera and only show up in person in case you enter one of the stores blind spots because they already saw you steal something and have to keep eyes on you so that they can use that in court. From the things I said up top.
So general rule is that you want to see if you're being watched before trying to actually steal and then make sure that you enter somewhere they have to have cameras on you. That way they come running.
They can't detain you unless you commit the crime in their presence.
You aren't looking to outsmart them and steal. You're looking to see if you're being watched and if you aren't then you can steal.
Just a PSA from someone with some insider information.
Edit: Stealing is obviously illegal and can land you in serious trouble. This is simply information in the abstract sense. It is informative by nature and in no way is an endorsement of actions.
Yall gotta stop stealing. Not for any specific objective moral reason but because you fucking suck at it
Edit: BECAUSE 95% OF YOU ARE GETTING CAUGHT AND NAILED BY BIGASS CORPOS OVER FUCKING LIP GLOSS AND REDBULL AND THAT SHIT ISNT WORTH CRIMINAL CHARGES. CAUSE YOU DONT KNOW HOW OFTEN SOMEONE SEES YOU ON CAMERA AND REPORTS IT LATER. BECAUSE YOURE BAD AT IT.
GET BETTER OR STOP CAUSE YOURE GONNA GET NAILED AND OUR CRIMINAL JUSTICE SYSTEM WILL FUCK YOU OVER
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ultralightpoe · 2 days ago
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JUNO - Bucky Barnes
Authors Note: Gah, here we go again with the bucky fics since he looked so damn good in that trailer! Enjoy!
Word Count: 4215
Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT.....and more smut.
Requests: OPEN
Main Masterlist ~ ~ Halloween 2024 Event
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[Thank you for the gif @ayo-edebiri ]
Enjoy!
“Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing
Oh yeah, you just get it
Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit
God bless your dad's genetics, mm, uh”
-
You were a terrible terrible person, this was a fact. It would be put on whatever wikipedia page they made for villains as soon as people figured it out, which considering the rage building in your body would be any moment now. Why were you a terrible person? That’s easy to explain. 
There was a time where everyone avoided your boyfriend like the plague, when the Winter Soldier cliche had been stuck to his image like a nail in a tire and everyone treated him like crap. And who stayed by his side? You. Not that it was ever about keeping score because you just wanted what was best for him. But now that people are all about kissing his ass since he had some new found fame? You wished things would go back to the way they were. And that made you a terrible person. 
Who would want things to go back when your love was treated terribly?
But then you see girls like Montana clinging to his side and that little green monster in the pit of your stomach begins growing and growing until it leads to moments like now, with you standing at the bar clutching your glass like it was the only thing tethering you to this earth. 
Yet another gala was being thrown, this time it was ‘Rockstars for Schooling Funds’ and Bucky was required to attend for PR. And attend your man did. The jacket, the tie, the pushed back hair and the hot ass glare. 
From the second you saw him ready for tonight you were ready to pull him into the bedroom and never leave, your skin grew hot just remembering the feeling of his hands roaming your body as you tried to lead him into the bedroom. He obviously didn’t fall for it and now you were here watching Montana hold onto his arm as she laughed at something he said. 
As if sensing your glare he turns to catch your eye, and you know that he was surveying your safety by the sharp look in his eyes and all you can think was ‘God bless your dads genetics’.  But you refuse to break for him, so you shrug and turn back to the bar ready to order yourself another drink. 
Best thing about wearing a dress like the one you were wearing tonight? Attention.  Within seconds the men at the bar were clamoring to buy you a drink, crooked smiles and lame pick up lines. The prized contender? The southern man with kind eyes wearing his very own black cowboy hat. 
This could be fun. 
“What’ll it be?” He drawls and you have to fight off the blush filling your cheeks just at the sound of it. 
“Hmm, I haven't decided yet.” You flirt, batting your lashes for a second. “Think you can help a girl out?”
“There’s the ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’.” He reads off the little menu, looking up to you from under his hat, giving a smooth wink and you huff out a small laugh. 
“Would it be worth my time?”
“It’s the best on the menu from what I can see.” As if on cue you both look out to the crowd around you at the gala, with loud music and cheesy rockstar costumes, and whilst he is trying to make a point your eyes roam for a familiar head of hair. But the group that Bucky had been sitting with for the past 30 minutes was now short a member, your man. “Who would want to waste time with any of these cruds when you could have a real drink sugar?”
But the words were lost on you as your eyes traced over the room in a hurried panic. Where did he go?
But then your nose fills with a familiar woodsy scent as a familiar arm wraps around your waist in a tight grip that has the cowboy standing straight up in his own panic. 
“Yeah Doll, how bout a real drink?”
-
“You make me wanna make you fall in love
Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah
Wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs?
Oh, I hear you knockin', baby, come on up”
-
That little green monster building in your stomach? Now she had a fire pal burning straight through your skin at the image of the icy glare Bucky managed to send in the cowboys direction, the fingers on your waist tightening and digging into your skin. 
“I was just talking to my friend here about drinks.” You hum out, watching his jaw tighten as he continues to glare. “What do you know about drinks?”
The cowboy, who you now knew to be a foolish man since he still stood in that spot, lets out a smooth chuckle. “Considering he’s holding an old fashioned I would say not much, Sugar.”
“Really? I always thought that the old fashioned ways worked in seduction. At least they did for me.” Bucky all but growls out, pulling you closer to him. “Now how bout we ask the gal. Do my old fashioned ways work?�� 
As if to prove his point he presses his thigh between your legs just a notch and squeezed at your waist, you were lost. 
“No words? Hmm? Interesting.” He smiles, “Think you need a break from the crowd?”
He doesn’t waste time waiting for an answer, rather he keeps his grip on your waist as he leads you through the large gala, keeping the glare on his features that has people backing away to avoid his anger. You however basked in it, and as he lead you into the bathroom with the slam of the door and an easy movement to lock the door. 
You got right to work, hopping onto the counter and wiggling a bit as he turns back to you. 
You look up at him through you lashes, kicking one foot out a bit to expose your leg to him. “I mean not that I don’t love this vibe, we didn’t pack the handcuffs baby.” 
“Oh so the pretty girl thinks she’s funny.” He chuckles, stepping forward and moving his hands to the top of your thighs to squeeze before pulling you forward harshly. “In case you haven’t realized it, this is the moment where you start giving me reasons to give you what you so badly want.” 
Words failed you as his palms roamed your skin, rubbing soft circles to begin pushing up your dress. 
“Oh, I’m the one in trouble here?” You huff, leaning back as he pushed his way in between your thighs. “Funny, here I was thinking of granting you mercy.”
“Oh that’s how we are playing it, huh?” And just like that he is pressing the pad of his flesh thumb right onto your core, pulling a sharp gasp from you as you tried to close your legs out of instinct only for him to press you down with his metal hand. “You were saying, sugar?”
“Oh…” You moan, back arching as he circles his thumb with a smug smile, leaning into you to pull your lips into a fervent kiss. It draws your breath until your gasping into him for air, your hands woven into his hair to keep him there and save you all in the same go while he teases at pulling your panties down only to pull back in a matter of seconds leaving you there to try and catch your breath. 
Seconds away from achieving your high only to be left stranded leaves you whining and leaning forward to get him back into your arms. 
He tsks at you, pushing you back gently as you continue whining. 
“What will you give me?”
“Anything.” You gasp out, kissing at the wrist of the hand holding you back, nipping at the flesh of it as you reach for him metal arm to pull you back in. He gives in a little, allowing you to press your hips into his so release some of the pressure. “Please baby.”
“Then how about you behave for the last hour, and we’ll go home and get you sorted. Yeah?”
“Fine,” You snip out, tracing your hand up his metal arm before making it to his collarbone and pressing your hips further into his. “I’ll be good. I promise.”
-
“I know you want my touch for life
If you love me right, then who knows?
I might let you make me Juno
You know I just might”
-
And you feel like a fool for making that promise as he leads you through the crowd once more, this time with a pressure begging to be released in your lower belly as he keeps his metal hand on your lower back. The chill of the metal while your body is ablaze has you reeling, reaching a hand back to keep a hold on him. 
You think of all the things he can do to you as he talks with the Galas president, digging your nails into the sleeve of his tux as you push your thighs together a bit, leaning your nose into him to inhale his scent as he talks with a bold presence. 
When that Montana girl comes back you learn that she is an assistant for the program and that little green monster leads you to nip at his ear in front of her before kissing at his neck to leave a lipstick mark. 
He looks at you for a moment, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips before turning to talk to her some more but it’s too late, you’re already in a haze. The green monster and the red flame have mixed to make their very own monster. 
So you pull him in by his tie, pressing your lips to his ear and whispering the words you knew would break him. “Gimme me a baby.”
-
“Let you lock me down tonight
One of me is cute, but two though?
Give it to me, baby
You make me wanna make you fall in love (Oh)”
-
It was the one secret weapon you’ve never used, but have always known about. 
Back in the beginning of the relationship while you were learning the ins and outs of eachother you noticed how much he loved the pill since it hadn’t been too popular back in his day. He loved the freedom it gave him to mark you as his, but you also noticed the lingering gaze on your stomach and or the intent look he gave when you took the pill. 
But you had never been ready for a kid, you wanted to save that for that someone special who you could raise them with. But you knew that Bucky was it, you knew that he was your touch for life. Why not give in?
And the thrill of giving in the second his eyes meet yours makes it worth it, seeing the heat as he pulls you in so tight you might as well be one person. 
“Come on baby, one of me is cute but two though?” You whisper, leaning up to bite at his lip before his hands come up to pull you into a feral kiss as he begins to lead you out the doors. 
-
“I showed my friends, then we high-fived (Ah-ah)
Sorry if you feel objеctified (Ah-ah)
Can't help myself, hormonеs are high
Give me more than just some butterflies”
-
“Easy there.” He grunts out the second you press him into the seats of the limo, straddling him with ease as your nails rake down his chest to begin tracing the buttons of his shirt. “I might feel objectified.”
“I don’t give a shit,” You gasp, ripping his shirt open before attacking his chest with kisses. You take to kissing his chest, dragging your lips from spot to spot in order to mark him as much as you can as he pulls you down to move his hips into your with a groan. 
Your eyes flutter closed at the heat that crosses through your body at the sound, whining out a bit as he begins to grind into you, pulling you up from his chest with a swift pull to lock your lips together as the limo makes a turn. 
The kiss was feral, teeth gnashing, thigh clenching kiss that has you gripping his shoulders and pushing your hips into his a little quicker. Biting down onto his lip when he stills your hips with his hands before pulling back. 
“You gonna let me lock you down?” He whispers, rubbing your hip as he moves you with ease until your legs are splayed over his lap and he can reach between them to pull more moans from you. “Gonna let me keep you forever?”
“Yes….” You whine out the second he begins rubbing at your core once more, this time with the metal hand. The chill of the metal over the fabric is driving you crazy and you press your hips up for more pressure and as a sign you want the panties off. 
He is quick to oblige, pulling his hand to the waistband of them and ripping them off in one easy movement before pushing his fingers back to ease one into your center. “I’ll give you anything you want. But you already knew that when you said I could give you a baby. Didn’t you?”
And just like that he pushes two more fingers in, curling them in a fluid motion as his lips press into the pressure point of your throat. He works his fingers in a fast paced motion as you close your eyes and give into the feeling, letting him suck and bite at your neck as much as he wanted to. 
And once you reach your high he merely speeds up his movements until your shaking in his lap. 
“Atta girl.” He grunts, pulling his fingers up to suck on while you blink at him, still shaking from that orgasm. 
“I love you.” You murmur to him, leaning on for a gentle kiss. He laughs into it, rubbing at the back of your neck in a sweet gesture before putting your torn panties in his pocket and looking to see how close you are to home. 
-
“You make me wanna make you fall in love
Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah
Wanna try out some freaky positions?
Have you ever tried this one?”
-
The calm ease he had built up for the rest of the limo ride was quick to vanish the second the limo pulled up to the curb, pushing the door open and pulling you out so quickly your legs swing until he pulls you up so you can wrap them around his waist. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” You giggle, letting him carry you inside until the front door closes and he can set you down to lock it. Even in the mix of all this he can never slack on your safety, and you were sure that once he spent all your energy he would come down here for one last safety check. 
You let him do what he needed to do, walking to the kitchen with a fleeting look to him before grabbing a glass of water to sip on while you waited, legs still a little shaky. But you don’t have much time since he comes around the corner into the kitchen, leaning on the fridge with a small smile as he watches you every movement. 
“Everything locked up and safe?” You ask, moving one step closer to him.
“Yes.” He responds, the deep voice causing a shiver to move down your spine as he takes a step similar to yours without taking his eyes off you. 
“I think it’s so hot you know.” One of his eyebrows raise at your words, the small smile turning into a smirk. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone in this world as protective as you.”
He merely hums back, taking another step closer as his eyes roam over your body. “Yeah?”
“Mmhmm. And I was thinking that you deserved an award.” 
“I do?” You almost laugh at how innocent the question comes out, but you don’t have time since your already turning to press yourself into the counter, pushing your hips out and pulling your dress up to expose yourself to him as he audibly growls. “Have we every tried this before?”
-
“I know you want my touch for life
If you love me right, then who knows?
I might let you make me Juno
You know I just might”
-
His hands are upon you in an instant, rubbing at your hips as his body presses into yours to kiss at the back of your neck, and you realize that he is still wearing his undershirt and pants. The metal of the belt buckle digs into your back as you reach back to undo his belt. 
You hear him undo it and get ready, pressing your forehead into the tile of the counter as he grabs your hands and begins wrapping your hands together with the leather belt. And you should be embarrassed at the moan that fills the air once you realize what he is doing before he undoes his pants and you feel him press at your center. 
He’s quick to press in, and you both your moans fill the air as he presses his forehead into the exposed skin of your back before beginning to rut himself up into you. With every aggressive push of his hips into yours the doors of the cabinet on the counter shake, the cold tile of the counter hitting your hip over and over and over as he claims you for his own. 
With one hand holding the belt that is biting into the flesh of your wrists and the other holding the counter to keep you both stable he stands straight and lets free. Every harsh threat is followed by his grunts and your moans, the sound of skin slapping filling the room before the hand from the counter comes to hold your hair. 
It’s feral, and hot. And the feeling of his flesh hand pulling at your hair has you tightening around him enough that he can’t fight his own moan. 
And the second you hear it you are coming undone around him, shaking harshly as he keeps you held up before you collapse, continuing his thrusts until you reach the peak of the high once more and spasm around him. 
Once you come down, panting heavily and keeping your forehead pressed into the cold tile, he works on undoing his belt to release you as he pulls himself out of you and pulls his pants up. 
You are quick to turn on him, tears in your eyes partly due to the intense orgasm and the fact that you still haven’t gotten what you wanted. “Baby please….”
“Easy doll.” He whispers, pulling you into his arms to wrap himself around you, picking you up easily. “You’ll get it. Don’t you fret.”
-
“Let you lock me down tonight
One of me is cute, but two though?
Give it to me, baby
You make me wanna make you fall in love”
-
He carries you into the bedroom bridal style, setting you down at the foot of the bed before leaning down to grab the end of your dress and pull it over your head, kissing his way up your body so slowly you feel like you might just die. By the time the fabric is over your head he throws it to the side, his gaze meeting yours in a tense blaze. 
You knew within an instant that he had gotten serious, and as you kept your gaze on his he let your hands roam until you begin pulling his undershirt off before you reach to undo his waistband. “What’s that look for?”
“Did you know….” He keeps his voice to a whisper as he kicks off his shoes and shucks off his pants, pulling off his socks and throwing everything to the side before moving his hands to either side of your cheeks. “That it’s not actually proven that the amount of orgasms a women has is connected to their ability to conceive.”
“Yeah?” You smile, waiting for him to get to the point 
“I did a lot of research.” He says proudly, “So though the amount of orgasms I give you don’t end up mattering in the end…..they sure are fun.”
And you can’t fight the loud laugh that escapes when he gently tackles you onto the bed, making it bounce a bit as he pushes your thighs open with his hands and pressing them into you by the backs of them. 
“You ready doll?”
“Always for you sergeant.”
-
“Adore me
Hold me and explore me
Mark your territory (Ah-ah)
Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one (Ah-ah)”
-
He keeps the eye contact, soft and open, as he slides himself between your folds to use your past orgasms as his lubricant before pressing into your center and moaning a bit as he pushes himself in. Whereas the romp downstairs had been feral and fast this one started slow, allowing him to kiss at your face as you adjusted to his size this time. 
His weight presses you into the bed, and your hands find purchase at his back so he can pull himself back before pushing his hips back into yours. Slow and precise, every pull he left a kiss and every push has just enough friction on your core that has you arching your back. 
It had been years of him learning your body and by this point he knew how to play it like the back of his hand. It was his and he liked keeping what's his cared for. When you arched a little more he knew he should speed up, and when you closed your eyes he reached a hand down to grip at the fat of your ass, fingers digging in as he readjusted you both for more pleasure. 
And once you came around him, spasming and moaning loudly, all bets were off. 
-
“Adore me
Hold me and explore me (Ah-ah)
I'm so fuckin' horny
Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one”
-
His entire weight comes down, crushing you beneath him not that your complaining. Between the warmth of his skin and the mix of your sweat with his you both have traction to move as his thrusts turn wild. 
Over and over at a speed he hadn’t reached with you before, his eyes are clenched shut as he ruts into you, overstimulating you as you begin to sob from the pleasure. Your entire body shakes with every intense hump. 
Between his thrusts you meet your peak once more, screaming out as his own thrusts become erratic and harsher. 
By the time he finishes he leans down to your ear so you can hear the heavy moan that escapes him as he fills you to the brim, shaking and pinching you with his metal arm. And his release seems never ending as he continues to thrust, until you are both completely spent and collapse into the cool sheets. 
-
“(Oh, I) I know you want my touch for life
If you love me right, then who knows?
I might let you make me Juno
You know I just might (Might)”
-
You had managed to fall asleep and only woke up at the realization that he wasn’t near you, vision blurry as you looked around. He had cleaned you up and tucked you in with a glass of water on the nightstand, but his side of the bed was  empty. 
So you sit up, ready to go check on him, until you realize how sore you were and stay on the bed to listen for him. You hear the sound of him shuffling around downstairs to check all the locks before he begins climbing up the stairs. 
You know he makes the noise for you, otherwise he would be as stealthy as an assassin. 
By the time he enters the doorway there is a small smile playing at his lips while you open your arms and pull him in to lay with you. 
“Goodnight.” You whisper. 
“Goodnight, Doll.”
-
“Let you lock me down tonight
One of me is cute, but two though?
Give it to me, baby
You make me wanna make you fall in love”
-
The waiting was the most dreadful feeling. 
Sitting on the edge of the bathtub with the test sitting on the counter between where you sat and where your husband sat in the hallway with the back of his head laid against the door. 
It was silent but not in a malicious way, more of a calming way as his metal hand whirred before the alarm on your phone goes off and you both shoot up to look. 
“Is it…”
“I….”
And you both lean to look at the same time to see just how well those new positions took.
-
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kuroosamuu · 3 days ago
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megumi x reader | warnings: making out | wc: 687
you and megumi decided to keep your relationship a secret. for reasons quite obvious to the two of you, for the current predicament you find yourselves in being one of the main ones.
with the two to of you both being students at jujutsu high, you're with each other more often than not. because of this, you two try to keep your feelings for each other at a minimum and keep anything away to the nosy people around you who would love to tease you about your relationship.
and megumi feels strongly about preventing that from ever happening.
well, that didn't last that long.
It was currently 1am, everyone was sleeping, and you were on your way to megumi's room.
you two did this often, finding the only moment of privacy with one another being in the middle of the night, where no one could interrupt the time you spend together. this was your time to be able to talk to him freely, without worrying about someone else interrupting your conversation or saying something about you two being a bit too close.
so, when you arrive and softly knocked on the door, you felt the relief you always feel when he opens the door, and allow yourself to throw your arms around him.
"missed you."
"you saw me today."
you pull away, pouting at him, "you know what I mean."
"I know, missed you too," he leans down and gives you a quick peck, before you two make your way to his bed to cuddle.
a daily routine at this point.
you lay with your head on his chest, his arm secured around you as you two talk mindlessly about anything and everything.
you end up perching your chin on his chest to look up at him, and before you know it, you lips are on his.
It starts off slow, gentle even, like every other kiss you two share. soon, you place your palm on his chest for leverage as you lift yourself up more in order to deepen the kiss.
megumi sits up slightly, bringing his back to rest on the headboard behind him as your lips move in sync, slowly deepening with each kiss.
you allow your hand that was previously situated on his chest to wander up and over his shoulder, as he takes one hand and place it on your waist.
he brings his other hand to the other side of your waist and moves you to straddle his lap properly now.
the kiss deepens in his new position, allowing yourself to hook your arms around his neck, while his one hand stays on your waist, the other slowly moving up and down your back.
all that is consuming your mind and body is megumi and you don't think of anything else, mind completely taken over by the feeling of his lips against yours.
and he is in the exact same way, hence the reason neither of you heard the door to megumi's room creak open.
and you didn't stop until you hear the crash of something hitting the floor.
you gasp as you part from megumi, throwing yourself off of him as fast as humanly possible and creating as much distance between you two as you could on his small bed.
you turn to look at the source of the sound to see yuji standing at megumi's doorway, whatever in his hand now on the floor, along with his jaw wide open.
the awkward silence between you three lasts for what feels like forever, before megumi finally speaks up.
"don't you know how to knock? what are you doing here."
"I did knock! you didn't reply so I just let myself in..." yuji replies looking between you and megumi, "maybe I shouldn't have..."
"It's not what it looks like," you try to explain weakly.
"I'll just leave you two alone."
yuji runs out of the room, and you look at megumi, the two of you knowing you're going to hear an earful tomorrow from both nobara and gojo, who yuji is definitely telling right now.
so much for keeping your relationship a secret.
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xinganhao · 15 hours ago
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🫂 older brother!mingyu vs. boyfriend!wonwoo.
anon → "could you please maybe do a text au of older brother! Mingyu and brother's best friend - and boyfriend - Wonwoo?"
‧₊˚✩彡 includes: cussing, sibling dynamics, wonwoo and mingyu are best friends! best read in order + headcanons under the cut.
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🫂 the three times mingyu almost caught you (and the one time he did) .ᐟ
(1)
wonwoo likes to think he's a pretty rational guy. he follows rules. he does everything by the book. he treats people well, and he's a good friend. mingyu could attest. they've been best friends for years, after all. except— well, there might be one rule that wonwoo has bended just a teensy, tiny bit.
he's breaking it now as the two of you hold hands underneath the caf�� table. you're doing your own thing with your free hand, but the other remains firmly grasped by wonwoo's. he never thought he'd be the clingy type, honestly. it just felt so out of character for somebody like him. and yet here he is, pouting ever so slightly whenever you try to pull away.
"i need to turn the page, baby," you say exasperatedly, gesturing to the book balanced precariously in front of you.
"i'll turn it for you," he says immediately, reaching out to do exactly that. "just let me know when you need me to."
"you're insane."
he pouts harder. you sigh.
minutes later, though, you're wrenching your hand away like wonwoo's touch has burned you. his whine of babyyy is on the tip of his tongue, but he chokes on the word when he sees the reason for your sudden distance: mingyu, bounding in to the café.
"there you are!" he cries to wonwoo. "watchu doin' with this bighead?"
you flip your older brother off. "tutoring," you say without missing a beat. "because unlike you, wonwoo has more than one functioning brain cell."
as the two of you bicker a bit more, wonwoo tries to rearrange his expression into something more neutral. it's all he can do to hide the way he's already missing the feeling of your fingers slotted in the spaces of his.
(2)
if somebody told a younger wonwoo that he would one day be using emoticons and emojis for someone, that younger wonwoo would've laughed his ass off. today's wonwoo can only hang his head in slight shame.
it came easily, but it also came in part because you used to ask 'are you mad at me? 🥺' when he would use his usual textspeak on you. wonwoo was more than happy to start adapting to your typing habits in a bid to ease your mind.
he's on safari, looking up the appropriate emoticon to send as a reaction to your latest selfie— he's torn between (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) and ヽ(♡‿♡)ノ, which may look the same, but he swears there are nuances— when he hears mingyu's amused voice mumble, "what the hell?"
"jesus christ!"
wonwoo's exclamation is paired with the most over-the-top reaction in the world: tossing his phone halfway across the room. mingyu doubles over in laughter as wonwoo glares up at his best friend, who'd been looking over his shoulder.
"yah, don't sneak up on me like that," wonwoo hisses, the tips of his ears going red.
"alright, mr. japanese kaomojis dot com," mingyu teases. he begins laughing harder at his own joke.
wonwoo smacks mingyu upside on the head before going to retrieve his phone. the screen protector has the ghost of a crack on it, but it's a small price to pay.
at least mingyu hadn't peeked the selfie of you making a kissy face for wonwoo.
(3)
"you should probably go soon," you say delicately, nudging wonwoo's head with the heel of your palm.
he lets out a low whine of protest. despite being significantly bigger than you, he's the one draped over you; his face buried in your chest, his arms wrapped around your waist.
the two of you are lounging on your living room couch. your parents— and your pesky older brother— all had plans elsewhere, giving you and wonwoo some freedom.
"you hate me," your boyfriend groans against the front of your shirt.
"they'll be here any minute."
"so i'll stay for thirty seconds more, then."
it's never just seconds more with wonwoo, but you've never been one to deny him. the thirty seconds spin in to three minutes, then seven, then—
the unmistakable sound of a car pulling into the driveway has wonwoo's head snapping up.
"shit," you both say at the same time.
wonwoo scrambles to disentangle from you. "is it—"
"mingyu," you confirm, having grown accustomed to the different sounds that would indicate who was coming home. your eyes are frantic as you wave wonwoo off. "go, go, go!"
he stumbles forward, then backward, like he's not sure where to go.
"my bedroom window!" you hiss, and wonwoo practically bolts up the stairs two steps at a time. just as he gets to the landing of the second floor, mingyu saunters in through the front door.
"were you talking to someone?" your brother asks.
"yeah," you say, schooling your reaction into one of nonchalance. "myself."
"get some help, weirdo."
"how about you—"
your biting retort is cut short by the distant sound of a distant crash. both you and mingyu look towards the general direction of the interruption.
"the hell?" mingyu grouses. you feel like your heart is in your throat as your brother heads for the front door to check.
a frazzled looking wonwoo is out on the porch.
"hey," wonwoo breathes to mingyu. "i, uh, came to see you. knocked over one of your pots while i was walking up, though."
mingyu's eyebrows raise. "why? forgot your glasses or something?"
your eyes catch on wonwoo's spectacles, resting at the foot of the couch. while mingyu's back is still turned, you grab them and shove them into your pocket.
"yeah, forgot 'em at home," wonwoo lies. he's not even looking at you as mingyu lets him in.
"you're in luck," a none the wiser mingyu says. "i literally just got home. otherwise, you would've needed to kill time with the world's biggest loser."
right, you think. like that isn't exactly what wonwoo had just been doing.
(4)
mingyu hadn't meant to find out. really. he was just going to be an annoying older brother— barge into your room, stand there for absolutely no reason, then leave the door open behind him. except when he goes to check, you're already asleep.
he notices that you've crashed atop your covers. that draws a derisive snort of laughter from him. "dumbass," he mumbles to himself. he's known you for all your life, and you're the type to complain about some phantom fever if you didn't have a blanket in your sleep.
he goes to pull your comforter over you, only to freeze midway.
your phone is angled at you, propped up against the wall. it seems like you'd fallen asleep on video call.
and, on the other end of the line is none other than wonwoo.
wonwoo is fast asleep, too. mingyu recognizes the other man's bedroom, sees the way that wonwoo is already dressed for bed. everything just seems to click, then. because everything else is excusable, negligible. but this? the intimacy of this, the sheer familiarity it entails?
mingyu feels like he's intruding. he probably is.
briefly, he considers screaming in your ear until both you and wonwoo are awake. he wants to see what kind of explanation the two of you can come up with on the spot. it'd be pretty funny, he thinks.
instead, he tucks your blanket over your shoulders, taking extra care to not wake you. he'll let you pretend for one more day, he decides with a slight shake of his head.
on his way out of your bedroom, mingyu closes the door for once.
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astralis-ortus · 2 days ago
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spoiled
✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader
— it really is in the little things he does.
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w.count → 0.5k genre → slice of life, fluff notes → chan referred to as chris, reader referred to as babe, teeny weenie kith a.n → been feeling sappy whenever i see chan, and what’s the best cure if not to write about it♡ ⋆ see masterlist
growing up, you never really thought much about relationships.
well, it's not like you had the breathing room to do so anyway—with your parents' strained relationship and the way education had taken over the role as your safe space, the thought about crushes, falling in love, and jumping from one relationship to another like people around your age had resembled more like some faint, annoying whispers from the nether world rather than something you needed to experience as a young adult. instead, your goal revolves simply around graduating, getting a good job, and sticking with that—nothing more, nothing less.
well, that's exactly what you've managed to do so far…
with some minor adjustments.
"babe, do you want—oh, you're about to shower?"
you stopped a few steps from the door of the bathroom, eyes finding your boyfriend's curious pair just beyond the bedroom door while your arms hugged the fresh pair of pyjamas and a fluffy towel chris had bought for you a few months prior, right before your first sleepover at his place.
it still feels wild to you, the way chris just popped into your life one day and somehow managed to stay. the fact that you let him? even wilder. never in a million years would you ever thought you'd walk into your first and somewhat of a serious relationship not long after landing your first actual job, fresh out of university.
"yeah," you nodded, repeatedly blinking your eyes out of habit, "do you need to go? i might take a while since i'm gonna wash my hair."
"no no, i'm good," he replied, no longer looking at you when he turned busy, fumbling away at the cabinet under his kitchen sink, "but wait, there's something i want—found it!"
the curiosity in your eyes turned into sparkles of surprise when you noticed the rather familiar bottle in chris' hand as he heads over in your direction, sweet pair of dimples decorating his proud, cheeky smile.
"i got that body wash you said you wanted to try," handing the green colored bottle, chris lightly scrunched his nose alongside the click of his tongue, "kinda unfortunate—i was going to surprise you with it, but you beat me to the shower."
it's at times like this when you feel like your life in the past year has merely been a series of lucid dreams—when he looked at you with so much tenderness in his eyes, when he treats you like you're his entire world and more, when chris went out of his way just to prove that he meant everything he whispered in your ears between the ungodly hours of the night as he held you close when nightmares crept its long and sharp nails around your neck.
chris' affection still feels like a fever dream, and you don't know if you deserve to be at the receiving end of it at all.
"you're seriously spoiling me way too much, christopher," you finally chirped a response, mirroring your boyfriend's nose scrunch whilst keeping your unspoken worries locked away, "but thank you. i promise i'll use it well."
"i know you will," the dimpled smile made its way back to your boyfriend's features, igniting the familiar fuzzy feeling in the depths of your chest, and its rumble only grew louder when chris leaned in, faint scent of vanilla greeted you as he stole a peck from your lips,
"you know that's why i love spoiling you, right?"
©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
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sinsirellaxx · 2 days ago
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ok chat my birthday was a day ago so i gota ask.. slytherin boys celebrating ur birthday? (esp tom pspspsps)
Slytherin Boys – how they would celebrate your birthday
Warnings: None – this actually turned out to be rather wholesome?
A/N: Sorry for the long and sudden break – took me a while to find somewhat of a new routine. And I am so sorry anon – I don't know how old this ask his but anyway: happy (extremely) belated birthday! I hope you had an amazing day! Have fun reading ❤️
Enjoy!
Mattheo …
… who would try to bake something just because he knows how much you love chocolate cake.
… who would almost cry because the finished cake looked borderline poisonous before running into the kitchens to threaten ask the house elves to bake him a cake for you.
… who would surprise you in his dorm after kicking the other boys out and threatening them to hex them if they disturbed you.
… who would be laying on his side on the bed with a bow around his hips and the cake in front of him.
… who would lie about the cake – telling you he made it for you. “Happy birthday, babe. I made this for you.”
… who would smirk as he told you that he is your present, while wiggling his eyebrows and pointing at the big red bow on his crotch.
… who would roll his eyes when you raised your brow at that, quickly giving you your real present before calling you his “materialistic queen”.
Theodore …
… who almost forgot about your birthday. He found out when he saw your girl friends sing happy birthday for you loudly in the Hall.
… who immediately skedaddled out of there, pissed at himself for forgetting your birthday.
… who’d skip classes to go to Hogsmeade (he almost got caught) and buy you your favorite things.
… who’d sneak into the kitchens right before dinner to steal food just so he could prepare a picnic for you.
… whose heart hurt when he saw your angry face until you noticed the picnic.
… who’d brag about him being the best boyfriend and telling you he’d “never forget, amore”.
Lorenzo …
… who would plan a surprise party with all of your (and mainly his) friends on the night before your birthday.
… who’d created a list of presents that you might like – to ensure you’d only get things you like.
… who’d whisk you away after the time hit midnight to give you his present in private – he wanted to be the first.
… who’d dance with you in the privacy of his room, kissing you after ending the dance before leading you back to the party.
… who’d roll his eyes when the party guests called him a greedy b*tch for stealing you away
Draco …
… who would make sure to remind you daily leading up to your birthday that it’s your day, so you better let him spoil you.
… who’d sneak into Honeydukes to buy your favorite sweets, because he wants to be the one to treat you to everything you love.
… who’d insist on picking out the perfect dress for you and make sure it fits perfectly, so you’d look flawless on your special day.
… who’d act like he’s so annoyed when you point out his thoughtful gestures, but secretly feels a bit proud of himself.
… who’d give you a gift wrapped in luxurious paper, telling you it’s not something you can ever buy for yourself.
… who’d be way too proud of how good you look in the dress he picked out for you and won’t stop staring at you all night.
… who’d get a little possessive when other guys look at you, making sure to remind them that you’re his with a sharp look or a possessive hand on your waist.
Blaise …
… who’d be the one to organize the most relaxing and intimate birthday evening, knowing that you just want peace and quiet.
… who would definitely take you out to a quiet dinner at one of the hidden spots around Hogwarts that only a select few know about.
… who’d give you a thoughtful gift that was well beyond your expectations, something sentimental that shows how much he listens to everything you say.
… who’d take a walk with you after dinner, talking about everything and nothing, making you feel like you’re the most important person in his world.
… who’d quietly ask you if you liked the gift, and would be slightly insecure until you reassure him you love it.
… who’d smirk slightly when you thank him and call him your "birthday savior," secretly feeling proud he made your day special.
Tom …
… who’d remind you about your birthday days in advance because he doesn’t forget important dates, even if it doesn’t seem like it.
… who’d act like he couldn’t care less about celebrating, but when the day arrives, he’d still find a way to make it unforgettable for you.
… who would make an effort to give you a gift that only someone who truly understands you could choose – something meaningful, intellectual, and thought-provoking.
… who’d take you to a secluded spot in the castle and tell you how much you mean to him in a rare moment of vulnerability.
… who’d whisper softly, “I trust you, more than anyone else,” as you both share a moment in private, far from prying eyes.
… who would give you a small, carefully selected token that’s symbolic of how he feels about you, something with deeper meaning that you’d never expect from someone like him.
… who’d leave you with a kiss on your forehead, a touch of possessiveness and longing in his eyes before disappearing, making sure your birthday is something only the two of you share.
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seitmai · 23 hours ago
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Three paces into the hallway, brown wood floors and white walls, you’re met with a smiling family picture. Only, you’re not in it. Because, it’s not a picture of Pete’s family. Pete doesn’t have a family. Pete Mitchell has a daughter from a one night stand with a married woman.
Uff 😬
The nickname stings you. Your name isn’t Mitchell because your biological father had wanted it to be. It’s Mitchell solely because your mother’s husband knew you weren’t his and would rather die before letting you take his name.
Damn
Your throat is thick with the knowledge that all you knew Maverick to be, is now all that he’ll ever be. An absent father, a fantastic pilot, a lousy cook. A thousand more things that you’ll never know.
To know that you don't know a lot and will never know more is rough...
It’s been almost two years since you even set foot in this house last. If you had known that Maverick was going to be gone this soon… you sit and think to yourself about if you would have maybe visited more. Probably not.
Sometimes being honest to oneself is not easy
He stares down at the pizza between the two of you as he chews through a bite, brows drawn together slightly. He hates thin crust pizza — it’s the worst kind of pizza. But, when you had suggested it, he had agreed with a tight-lipped smile.
Hey, nobody slander thin crust there are far worse kind of pizza ☝🏻
“I’m sorry.” Bradley blurts out. You both look across at each other, equally surprised that he has spoken. “…For what?” You ask quietly, lips tugging into a small frown. “I’m sorry that I’m here and he’s not.” He’s just got to say it. He knows you probably wouldn’t bring it up on your own, but there’s a big elephant in this room. Bradley knows what it’s like to sit in your spot, and not know how to talk about it.
God they are lowkey awkward together and neither of them just knows what to do with themselves 🥴
“We weren’t that close.” You tell him, like that’s supposed to make him feel better. It doesn’t. It’s like a blow to the chest. You’ll never get the opportunity to fix things, because of him.
I feel like this maybe hurts Bradley more than her..
Your teeth press into the inside of your cheek. Maverick hadn’t ever described Bradley as this nervous.
👀
Nothing. A couple of beers and a block of good German cheese.
I mean it could be worse lol🤷🏻‍♀️
“Uh... No, not really.” After a routine training presentation at the very beginning of their attachment, Admiral Simpson had once become so agitated by Maverick that he snapped his own reading glasses in half. Mav got a good laugh out of it, at least.
At that I would have laughed too 🤭
It’s an easy answer, rolling off of your tongue with a shrug of your shoulders and a deflated sigh. “People usually put us in the same boat — if they don’t like him, they don’t like me.”
That's really shitty, especially knowing Mav's reputation 🥴
That’s something that he thinks he can understand. There’s not an instant dislike, but there’s a pity that he finds in the eyes of people who once knew his father. 
At that they really share a bit of similar fate
Her boots hit the ground, your lips parting slightly as you realise that she’s headed right for you. Bradley feels your arm tug in his grip and turns his head, taking note of the way you’re trying to shrink behind him. Lynn is a hugger by nature, and she was a good friend of Mav’s for a long time. She means well, but Bradley isn’t going to let her touch you when he can see how unnerved it makes you.
Good thinking Bradley, nothing worse than an unwanted hug by a stranger 🫣
You check back over your shoulder, glancing briefly at the man behind you, who has assumed his best bodyguard impression. 
I'm sure he does 🤭
“Miss Mitchell,” The admiral takes his seat on the other side of his desk once again. “I want to first express my deepest condolences. Your father was a good man, and a… extremely skilled pilot.” Bradley almost scoffs. Even now, Cyclone can’t manage to compliment him.
It seems his feeling run deep 😬
“But— he’s dead.” You frown, rendering Cyclone suddenly quiet. “He’s got to be. It’s been a week. No food, no water, sub-zero temperature. What’s the point in looking?” Bradley grits his teeth. He looks across at you, the muscle in his jaw ticking. There’s nothing in your expression, no fear or sadness. Your father deserved more than that. “The point is to bring him home.” He bites from your side, staring straight ahead at Cyclone.
This is rough... I get her questioning the process, it's not something that someone is usually confronted with..
You’re biting at the inside of your cheek so hard that you must be tasting copper, picking at the seam of your jeans and breathing like you’re trying not to cry.
🥺🥺🥺
“I— fuck. I don’t want to be here. I-I— I’m going to have to find a job, and I’ll have to call my mom, and— and my friends, and—“ “Hey,” Bradley mumbles, resisting the instinct to throw his arms around you. His brows draw together as he reaches out and squeezes your bicep, bending his knees so he can catch your eye. “It’s alright. I’ll take care of it.” You know that he’s just trying to be nice, but really, you’re sick of nice. It’s all that Maverick ever was and it left you with no idea of who he really is.
She has every right to be angry, upset and sad even if he really just ries to be nice, this is just not a good situation anyway and with the news of the investigation it just got SO MUCH worse🥴
He nods, closing his mouth, swallowing dryly. Thinking of what he can, feasibly, take off of your plate for you. The idea sparks in him. “You need a job. I can get you a job. Um, your friends, we can call them and bring them down for a weekend?” He squeezes again at your bicep, nodding his way through his plans, trying to will the tears in your eyes not to spill over.
I like that he is thinking practical!
“I don’t want to go back to his house.” It comes out as a whimper, and really just reminds Bradley that you’re in the same position that he was when he was just a little younger than you. It’s a scared kid type of feeling, being all alone in the world. Being in an empty house had made it even worse. He licks his lips and glances towards the skies, watching the sun pass behind a cloud. “You could stay at my place, for a night or two.” 
Just a night or two, sure 😏🤭
Ashes, Ashes | One | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
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masterlist | prologue | next chapter
Synopsis: In which Maverick didn’t make it home after the Uranium mission. He’s missing, presumed dead. There are things that have to be done — someone has to take care of the house, the bills.
So, Maverick’s daughter is back in Fightertown for the first time since she was in elementary school. There’s a gaping hole in both of their lives now, and somehow, the world’s supposed to just keep on turning without him.
Warnings: mitchell!reader, no physical descriptors other than the implication that Bradley is taller, no use of YN, age gap (23/33), smut, angst, hurt / comfort, mentions of character death, mourning, military inaccuracies. This entire fic and my blog is an 18+ space, minors do not interact. Do not repost.
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Crossing the threshold into Maverick’s home doesn’t come naturally to either one of you. This place is something that you had both left behind. Outgrown. It’s solely his. It’s not your home and it has never been, until now. Now, you’re stuck here until things are figured out.
On that fourteen hour drive down to San Diego, you had a lot of time to think. How long is a person supposed to wait for a body to turn up before they go ahead and throw the funeral without it?
Three paces into the hallway, brown wood floors and white walls, you’re met with a smiling family picture. Only, you’re not in it. 
Because, it’s not a picture of Pete’s family. Pete doesn’t have a family. Pete Mitchell has a daughter from a one night stand with a married woman.
This picture is of a real family. Hung on the wall opposite the front door is a picture of Nick and Carole Bradshaw holding their infant son. He’s bald and gummy. They’re grinning and showing him off like a prize trophy — so proud of him even though all he did in those days was drool and pee himself. 
These days, their infant son is up to more important things. Their infant son grew to an upsettingly grand height and is carrying two of your bags in one hand behind you today.
“C’mon, Mitchell — these are heavy.” Bradley huffs softly from behind you, reminding you that you’re standing stationary and blocking his path. 
The nickname stings you. Your name isn’t Mitchell because your biological father had wanted it to be. It’s Mitchell solely because your mother’s husband knew you weren’t his and would rather die before letting you take his name.
You shrug your duffel bag closer to your body and turn left. Bradley huffs under the weight of your luggage from behind you, watching you walk your cute butt in completely the wrong direction. “Wait, where are you going?”
Not struggling at all under the weight of your single duffel bag, you turn slowly to face him and frown slightly. “My room.” 
You don’t remember Bradley. Not in your own memories, anyway. You know he was around, you’ve seen him in pictures but the image in your head doesn’t match. Not quite right. Like puzzle pieces bent and forced together.
He’s taller than he looked at his high school graduation, which sits pictured and framed above Mav’s mantle. Older, but that’s to be expected. Up close, he looks more like his mother than his father. A slight bump in his nose and scars, nicely healed, but jagged and raised nonetheless dusted his cheek and his throat. 
Even with all those differences, there’s a familiarity to him that makes this all feel a little bit less suffocating.
Bradley’s brows draw together. He gives a small nod in the direction of the spare room. “That’s… I usually stayed in that room.”
“Oh.” You hum. With Bradley being ten years your senior, the room was his long before it was yours. With him growing up so close by, it was probably his much more frequently than it was yours. It’s not like you kept anything here anyway. It’s just a guest room that you would occupy every now and again.
There’s a brief quiet between you. 
“I just figured you could take the big room. ‘Til you get settled. I’ll go home once your car is fixed, if that’s what you want.” Bradley adds on. That sad little look on your face is killing him. 
The big room. The loft room upstairs. You’re pretty sure that you’ve never even been upstairs in this house.
“You’re staying too?” 
Oh. Yeah. He hadn’t addressed that point yet. Truthfully, he hadn’t even been planning to stay. He hasn’t even packed an overnight bag. But, from the second that you stepped out of the car and looked up at the house with that look on your face, he hadn’t even considered leaving you here alone.
“Just ‘til we get your car fixed,” He offers with a small shrug. “I’ll be here to run you around until then.”
Like he’s doing this for your sake. Natasha has her own life to get back to and Bradley can’t stand the thought of going back to his apartment alone. 
“Okay,” You agree, turning to peer down the hall towards the spare room. It’s nothing special — it really never felt like yours. “Alright, I’ll take Pete’s room.”
Pete. You call Maverick ‘Pete’ now. 
Bradley just nods, shifting the weight of your bags and nodding for you to head for the stairs. All the floors in this house are tan oak. The entryway is now herringbone. With the help of a friend, Pete had done the entire thing himself. 
Of course, as you walk silently across it, neither one of you would know that. Neither one of you was speaking to him last May, which was why he had needed a project in the first place.
Natasha’s outside on the phone. Bradley’s footsteps thud on the wood of the stairs behind you, following you up. You stop at the top, leaving just enough room for Bradley to stand there behind you.
The door to Maverick’s room is open. His bed is made. There’s a book thrown on top of it, the spine cracked and used, the pages yellow from years out in the sun.
“No way is he still trying to fucking finish War and Peace.” Bradley steps around you with your bags in his hands and heads straight for the book. Pete started this book before Bradley finished elementary school. Bradley twists and looks back at you. “He always gets bored and stops reading, then forgets his page and starts again.”
Another slow nod. One foot in front of the other, your shoes along the tan oak floors. Your fingers trail the white walls. Maverick wouldn’t have minded. This place was always messy before. It’s not now. 
This house is vacant and quiet, but it’s far from empty. It’s filled to the brim, practically pulling apart at the seams with everything that Maverick was and planned to be. He was finishing War and Peace — he made it to chapter 253 this time; further than he had ever made it before. 
Your throat is thick with the knowledge that all you knew Maverick to be, is now all that he’ll ever be. An absent father, a fantastic pilot, a lousy cook. A thousand more things that you’ll never know.
Four days of knowing, a fourteen hour drive down here, and it’s a book that stings like a cold slap to the face, reminding you of why exactly it is that you’re here.
Fire burns behind your eyes, blistering and stinging as Bradley sets your bags on the floor with a soft thud.
He turns with his attention completely on the book, his fingers extending towards the peeling cover of the paperback. His fingers curl around its weathered pages and he lifts it tenderly, examining the front at first.
It’s too early to start this process bawling your eyes out, and you refuse to let Russian Literature be your downfall, again. That thick feeling sits in your throat like a stack of weights as you sit down on the end of Maverick’s bed. The mattress is soft, taking your weight without a squeak of complaint. Maybe he finally listened to you and got a bed that wasn’t so harsh on his back.
It’s been almost two years since you even set foot in this house last. If you had known that Maverick was going to be gone this soon… you sit and think to yourself about if you would have maybe visited more. Probably not.
“I’ll change the sheets and stuff, then I’ll get out of your hair for a bit.”
Lifting your head, you blink at him. He has already started to pull back the comforter and strip the bottom sheet from the bed, awkwardly forcing you onto your feet again. 
Mobile once more, you turn slowly to take in your surroundings. This is Maverick’s room. It’s his house, you were prepared for that much — but this is his room. The last thing you want is to be alone in it all night.
“Oh. Sure,” You nod, setting into motion to help take the sheets off. You watch him instead of what you’re doing. 
He’s so methodical about it, like none of this phases him at all. But then, you’ve not seen how he has been for the past few days. “I was thinking of just ordering food tonight, since I’m kinda tired — and Pete never had groceries. Would you want… to maybe join?”
“Sure.” Bradley nods, tugging the pillows out of the cases. He glances up to you with a strictly polite, neutral smile. Quiet settles between the two of you until the bed is just a bare mattress and uncovered pillows. 
There’s a moment of total stillness between the two of you. Your gaze flickers up, meeting his, and the realization settles between the two of you. Maverick’s favourite cologne was a French thing that some woman in the eighties had liked. Citrus in the shade of cypress wood. The scent fills the room like he’s standing between the two of you.
Bradley glances down at the white sheets in his hands. The snowy white peaks of those mountains, Maverick’s aircraft spiralling into them, engulfed in flames. In a sick way, Bradley hopes that he didn’t manage to eject. At least then, it would have been instant. Maverick wouldn’t have felt anything.
You watch his adam’s apple bob in his throat from the other side of the bed. The last you had heard, Mav and Bradley weren’t on speaking terms. You wonder if this is as weird for him as it is for you.
“I’ll put these in the washer. You can… unpack, or whatever.” He decides finally, already taking one step backwards, headed for the door. You stand there, blinking at him. Even with those steeped, broad shoulders, he makes it through the doorframe unscathed before he turns to check where he’s going.
He probably knows this house inside and out, just like he knew your dad. Once. 
When it comes to wracking your brain and trying to remember Bradley Bradshaw, you can’t ever come up with anything. Maybe a glimpse, here and there. A blue t-shirt with green stripes. His school backpack accidentally left in the backseat of Maverick’s convertible beside your shoddily installed car seat. 
Truthfully, your experience with Bradley Bradshaw is limited. He’s just as real to you as any of the other guys in the stories you grew up hearing about. Your very own Peter Pan is downstairs right now, trying to figure out Maverick’s ancient washing machine, just so that he doesn’t have to stand up here and stare across at you.
He can’t hide from you forever, though. Evening comes, and so does hunger. 
He stares down at the pizza between the two of you as he chews through a bite, brows drawn together slightly. He hates thin crust pizza — it’s the worst kind of pizza. But, when you had suggested it, he had agreed with a tight-lipped smile.
Natasha has gone home. It’s just the two of you. Sitting in this unchanged, all too familiar kitchen. You’re barely unpacked. You set up a couple of things in Maverick’s bathroom, but it doesn’t feel right to be in the big room upstairs. That wasn’t ever your space to claim.
You chew absentmindedly at the bite you had taken. The TV in the living room is off. The record player is coated in a layer of thin dust already. It’s dead quiet. The kitchen light is dim above your heads.
There’s a chip in the corner of the table on Bradley’s side. It’s there because Bradley was running through this kitchen when he was four years old and had tripped and knocked his front tooth out right here. His thumb trails the tiny mark, wondering how his teeth had ever been that small.
Wondering why you aren’t angry with him, too.
Maverick had picked him up that day, turned him around and held Bradley while he cried, stemming the blood and quickly introducing the concept of the tooth fairy. He had done all that he could, and Bradley still found a way to resent him for what had happened to his own father.
Bradley hasn’t ever done a thing for you. Except maybe pay for this pizza. And here you are, calm as can be. 
The sauce base feels tangy and coppery, and the cheese makes him want to puke. He sets the slice down on his plate and wipes his hands on the paper towel beside him.
Finally, he lifts his head and looks at you. Your hair is up now, tucked out of your way after an afternoon of manual labour upstairs. You’re wearing a stretched out old t-shirt. Bradley assumes you got it from a boyfriend.
Really, he doesn’t think you look that much like your old man. He would really have to search for the resemblance. But, briefly, when you offer him a polite smile across the table, he knows that you’re Mav’s kid.
“I’m sorry.” Bradley blurts out. You both look across at each other, equally surprised that he has spoken.
“…For what?” You ask quietly, lips tugging into a small frown.
“I’m sorry that I’m here and he’s not.” He’s just got to say it. He knows you probably wouldn’t bring it up on your own, but there’s a big elephant in this room. Bradley knows what it’s like to sit in your spot, and not know how to talk about it.
It’s his fault that Maverick didn’t make it home.
You stop chewing. That last bite sits in your mouth, doughy and dry all of a sudden. You stare across at him, awkwardly making yourself swallow down the last of your bite of pizza and picking up the paper towel to wipe at your mouth.
“We weren’t that close.” You tell him, like that’s supposed to make him feel better. It doesn’t. It’s like a blow to the chest. You’ll never get the opportunity to fix things, because of him.
But, he knows what it’s like to be told how to grieve. He just dips his head and nods awkwardly. “Right.” 
“I got a call from an admiral the other day,” You pick up the slice of pizza and pick at its toppings. There’s no one here now to tell you not to play with your food. Mav never really cared anyway. Bradley watches you, unhungry. “Invited me down to Miramar. He said he was a friend of Mav’s and that he could talk me through… this whole thing. How it works.” You explain with a shrug.
Bradley rubs a hand over the neatly trimmed hair above his lip. It feels like he has swallowed a golf ball, sitting here like it’s normal to be discussing the measures.
He knows how it works. It won’t be as simple as it was with his own father. At least Maverick had afforded him something to bury. For you, there’s nothing.
“I’ll have to be there around eleven.” 
“Sure,” Bradley nods, scratching at the back of his neck. His legs tingle with stiffness. Clearing his throat, he shifts in the little wooden chair and stretches, knocking his foot into yours under the table. “Oh. Sorry. I’m sorry.”
Your teeth press into the inside of your cheek. Maverick hadn’t ever described Bradley as this nervous.
“It’s fine.” You hum, pushing back in your chair and standing up from the table. “Well, I’ve been up since like… four, so I might just hit the hay.”
“Sure.” Bradley breathes out, hands braced on his thighs, eyes focussed on that tiny chip in the corner of the table. “Yeah. Goodnight.”
The downstairs bedroom seemed bigger when he was a kid. The twin-sized bunks on the carrier feel bigger than the wooden-framed bed that Maverick put in here. Bradley’s shoulder is practically hanging off the side, and the old frame creaks with each movement he makes.
It’s not like he would be sleeping much anyway. When he closes his eyes, the only thing he can see is the fireball Maverick’s plane had turned into as it fell.
Bradley’s hunched over the coffee pot by the time that you wake up. He hears you coming down the stairs and straightens up like he wasn’t three seconds from throwing the stupid thing at the wall, clearing his throat and turning around.
It occurs to him that he should have put a shirt on. This isn’t his place. It’s yours, now, he guesses — either way, he hadn’t considered making you uncomfortable. He folds his arms over his naked torso as you stroll into the kitchen, hair mussed and rubbing at your eyes.
You’re wearing big socks and the same big t-shirt you had worn to eat the pizza last night. He can’t tell if you’re wearing shorts or not.
“Morning,” He offers up, making you lift your gaze from busily tapping at your phone. Your gaze lands squarely on his navel — more so, how low his shorts sit on his hips and the way a soft trail of brown hair ventures from there to his bellybutton. 
Blinking, you find his face.
“Coffee machine’s broken, we can stop somewhere on the way to base if you like.” He leans down a little bit, like an awkward teenager shrinking away from a family picture. You lock your gaze on his, trying not to glance back down at his muscles. 
“Oh. That’s not broken — if you hit it hard enough, it’ll work.” You head right for him, fuzzy socks padding across the floor so softly that it really does startle him when you grab the copy of War and Peace that now sits on the kitchen counter, and slam the book right into the side of the coffee machine.
He whips around as the machine whirs to life. You set the book back down gently, and look up at him. He sets his jaw, brows knitted together, searching your face.
Maverick never taught Bradley anything like that. In fact — Bradley always, always was taught the opposite. You never take the easy way out; if something’s worth fixing, then you fix it right.
Then you, you on the other hand, beat the thing with the heaviest book you can find? He just doesn’t get it.
“Well. Thanks.” He guesses, turning his bemused expression back to the brewing coffee. 
He hadn’t been expecting you to do that. Doesn’t take a genius to figure that out, given the way he’s still glaring at the machine. That coffee pot is older than you are, and Mav never taught him that trick?
“So this guy, the one who called me,” You skim your fingers along the cool granite countertop, just to have something to do, “He was the guy calling the shots up there?”
Bradley blinks. He doesn’t know how much you know about the way all of this works. He knew everything there is to know long before he ever enlisted, but that was because he wanted to know.
“Um,” Bradley grabs his mug and takes a step back for you to get yourself one.  “He was our mission command so, kind of. He gives orders — but, y’know, everything happens fast, it’s… it’s hard to call the shots from back on the boat.” 
“Did he like Mav much?” You ask, head tucked inside the fridge door as you scan for anything to make your coffee a little less black. Nothing. A couple of beers and a block of good German cheese. You swing it shut with a resigned sigh, wondering if you’ll be here long enough to need groceries.
The thought flashes across your mind — what’ll happen to this place when you leave it behind?
“Uh... No, not really.” After a routine training presentation at the very beginning of their attachment, Admiral Simpson had once become so agitated by Maverick that he snapped his own reading glasses in half. Mav got a good laugh out of it, at least.
“Great.” Agitation creeps into your tone as you curl your fingers around a plain white coffee mug. All of his kitchenware is plain white. 
“What?” Bradley tilts his head, trying to catch a glimpse at the look on your face, stuck between whether you’re sad or pissed off.
It’s an easy answer, rolling off of your tongue with a shrug of your shoulders and a deflated sigh. “People usually put us in the same boat — if they don’t like him, they don’t like me.”
That’s something that he thinks he can understand. There’s not an instant dislike, but there’s a pity that he finds in the eyes of people who once knew his father. 
He screws his mouth up, shaking his head and reaching for you without thought. His palm claps against your shoulder, platonic and soothing, but the first time he has touched you nonetheless. “I’ll be there. He won’t say a thing.”
Glancing upward, while his palm lingers on your shoulder, your eyes flit across his features. He doesn’t know quite what you’re searching for, or whether you find it. His fingers squeeze softly against your skin before the touch is gone all together.
You drink your coffees in parallel, both subtly miserable in your silence but comfortable in it anyway. It’s difficult to prepare for a meeting like this — you don’t have a clue of what to expect. 
Bradley wears black jeans and boots with a plain white t-shirt, which convinces you not to wear the more formal dress you had thought you’d have to wear. You slip into his passenger seat in a skirt and Mary Janes.
He drives a loud, blue vintage Bronco. It sparkles inside and out, and makes your dusty old car look even worse. 
Bradley settles behind the wheel to the sound of chilled seventies music, the radio turned low. He drives with three fingers curled around the bottom of the wheel and the other hand resting absently on the stick shift.
Even though he seems calm enough behind the wheel, you watch him chew at the inside of his cheek for the duration of the drive. Gears tick away inside his head. His knee only stops bouncing nervously when it’s time to press his foot against the pedal.
He’s not as good at pretending as he thinks he is; you silently appreciate that he tries, either way.
Bradley, truthfully, spends the entire drive thinking about the last time he was face to face with Admiral Simpson. ‘Son, I’m doing this for you.’ He had sworn, face sullen, uttering the exact same words Pete Mitchell once had when delivering the words that had torn Bradley from him the first time.
Only, Admiral Simpson wasn’t pulling Bradley’s papers — he was just putting him on a month long bereavement leave. His protests had fallen on deaf ears once again, as they had fifteen years ago. He’s now a week into that leave, but it feels like longer.
It turns out that when you cut sleep from the equation, everything feels a lot longer. In his own apartment, his routine has been getting up at 2am after hours of tossing and turning, going for a run all the way down to the docks, coming back and showering, then waiting for the sun to rise.
Last night, he’d been awake in that creaky old twin bed, struck by the realisation that if he spent all night tossing and turning — one, he might actually break the old bed frame, and two, the squeaking of it would definitely keep you up. 
All it had taken was the focus of trying to sit still for so long to finally knock him out. It was the best that he’d slept since the mission.
He kind of hopes that it’ll take him a while to figure out something to do with your car; at least that way he’ll be able to sleep at night. 
“You ready?” His voice startles you from your daydream, the engine cutting out with a jingle of the keys as he stretches forwards in his seat to shove them into his pocket. “We’re headed just over there.”
“Yeah, let’s get this over with.” You’re stepping down and swinging the heavy door shut before you’re taking your next breath, leaving him to catch up to you. 
His long strides have him at your side before long, reaching ahead of you to pull open the glass door to the post headquarters. 
This process has already been easier with him at your side. He’d coolly handed over his service ID and greeted the guard at the gate by name, and he stops you from turning sharply down the wrong hallway with a soft bump of his shoulder against yours.
He catches your forearm as you try to blow right past the front desk, his grip loose but firm. 
“Rooster.” The woman behind the desk stands up sharply, looking sharp in her service khakis, her entire face creased with a deep worry. She’s older, maybe around Mav’s age. “I heard, I’m so sorry.”
Rooster loosens his hold on your forearm, his lips flattening into a line. He stands up straight, his interaction with the woman nothing if not totally polite. His thumb trails across the bend of your wrist as he nods his head towards you.
“Thank you,” He says softly, seemingly unaware of the way you’ve stiffened in the presence of this woman. “We’re, uh… we’re just here to see Cyclone, Lynn.”
Her warm, brown eyes whip towards you, widening. Recognition floods her features as she pieces together who you must be. 
Her boots hit the ground, your lips parting slightly as you realise that she’s headed right for you. Bradley feels your arm tug in his grip and turns his head, taking note of the way you’re trying to shrink behind him.
Lynn is a hugger by nature, and she was a good friend of Mav’s for a long time. She means well, but Bradley isn’t going to let her touch you when he can see how unnerved it makes you.
“We’re a little late. I’ll catch you at the O-Bar this weekend?” His fingers uncurl from your forearm and his palm falls flat between your shoulder blades, giving you a gentle nudge and silent permission to avoid her hug.
The woman stops and there’s another polite, departing exchange between the two of them while you continue down the hall.
Bradley catches up to you as you rap your knuckles against the doorframe, fingers trembling when they come to settle back against your thighs.
“Miss Mitchell.” A chair scrapes along the tiled floor, Cyclone’s signature rumbling voice carrying out into the hallway. His boots tap across the ground, his face creased with sincerity and his hand outstretched when he notices Bradley standing behind you. “Bradley Bradshaw.”
You check back over your shoulder, glancing briefly at the man behind you, who has assumed his best bodyguard impression. 
Standing tall, his uniform crisp and his greying black hair combed neatly, Admiral Beau Simpson slips his palm into yours and shakes your hand curtly. The sunlight catches on his shining name badge, his face heavy with lines and sharp angles.
Letting your hand go, he then reaches to your right to shake Bradley’s. Bradley’s chest bumps your back as he leans into the handshake.
You step away from him, angling yourself closer to the doorframe. “He just gave me a ride here. Is it okay if he comes in?” You answer.
“Of course,” Cyclone is far more polite to you than he has ever been to Bradley. “Anything you need. Please, take a seat.”
It feels a little bit wrong standing before his boss in jeans, and sitting before him. Everything about this feels a little bit wrong. Bradley rests his chin against his fist.
You sit in the chair beside him, shoving your trembling hands under your thighs, straightening up and trying to look as brave as you can. 
It shouldn’t be this stranger sitting beside you in this meeting — your mother should have come with you.
“Miss Mitchell,” The admiral takes his seat on the other side of his desk once again. “I want to first express my deepest condolences. Your father was a good man, and a… extremely skilled pilot.”
Bradley almost scoffs. Even now, Cyclone can’t manage to compliment him.
“We are forever grateful for his service, and the sacrifices he made on behalf of our country. I understand that this is an extremely difficult time, and I’d just like to say that I’m going to personally make sure that this process is as easy as it can possibly be.”
You blink at him. Jet engines rumble on outside of the window. People bustle on outside of the closed office door.
Cyclone glances towards Bradley. 
“When a man is lost in action, our resolve is to initiate a search and rescue effort as soon as possible,” The admiral explains, leaving out the part where that search and rescue effort had been delayed by seventy-two hours after Mav disappeared. “We’ve been working tirelessly, and our efforts to locate your father are ongoing.”
Your brows knit together.
“But— he’s dead.” You frown, rendering Cyclone suddenly quiet. “He’s got to be. It’s been a week. No food, no water, sub-zero temperature. What’s the point in looking?”
Bradley grits his teeth. He looks across at you, the muscle in his jaw ticking. There’s nothing in your expression, no fear or sadness. Your father deserved more than that.
“The point is to bring him home.” He bites from your side, staring straight ahead at Cyclone.
You shoot him a look. When it’s clear that you aren’t going to say anything else, Cyclone clears his throat to continue. 
“Miss Mitchell, we do have to prepare ourselves for the other outcome. If recovery efforts are unsuccessful, in two weeks time, he will be listed as formally ‘Missing in Action’. If that’s the case, we will honor him with a memorial service and all of his service records and personal effects 
are delivered to you.”
You drag your teeth across your bottom lip, swallowing hard and giving a small nod of your head.
“Okay. Two weeks?”
“This is going to be a longer process,” Cyclone warns you. He’d heard that you had come down specially for this, and he doesn’t want to mislead you about the time frame. “The recovery mission, if unsuccessful, will be suspended in two weeks’ time. After that, we’d like you to be local for the investigation.”
“Investigation?”
“Of ourselves. To ensure that the Navy had performed its due diligence, that kind of thing… I’d expect us to be here for a good few months.” He explains.
After that, it’s like Bradley can see a switch flip for you. 
You’re biting at the inside of your cheek so hard that you must be tasting copper, picking at the seam of your jeans and breathing like you’re trying not to cry.
He’s still confused when he’s all but chasing you across the parking lot, listening to you try to control your breathing.
“Hey, hey, hey,” He tries, approaching you cautiously as you crowd yourself against the passenger side of his car. “It’s alright. We’ll get through it, it’s just a couple of months.”
“I— fuck. I don’t want to be here. I-I— I’m going to have to find a job, and I’ll have to call my mom, and— and my friends, and—“
“Hey,” Bradley mumbles, resisting the instinct to throw his arms around you. His brows draw together as he reaches out and squeezes your bicep, bending his knees so he can catch your eye. “It’s alright. I’ll take care of it.”
You know that he’s just trying to be nice, but really, you’re sick of nice. It’s all that Maverick ever was and it left you with no idea of who he really is. “Of what? There’s so much that I have to—“
He nods, closing his mouth, swallowing dryly. Thinking of what he can, feasibly, take off of your plate for you. The idea sparks in him.
“You need a job. I can get you a job. Um, your friends, we can call them and bring them down for a weekend?” He squeezes again at your bicep, nodding his way through his plans, trying to will the tears in your eyes not to spill over.
You sniff, turning your gaze towards the ground. The lump in your throat burns and bobs as you try to swallow it away. 
Mav really is never coming back.
“I don’t want to go back to his house.” It comes out as a whimper, and really just reminds Bradley that you’re in the same position that he was when he was just a little younger than you. It’s a scared kid type of feeling, being all alone in the world. Being in an empty house had made it even worse.
He licks his lips and glances towards the skies, watching the sun pass behind a cloud. 
“You could stay at my place, for a night or two.” 
364 notes · View notes
atxxzist · 3 days ago
Text
sweetest lies | c.s (final)
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prev // series m.list
pairing: choi san x f!reader
word count: 13k
warning: smut that i'm not proud of
a/n: it's finally here! only took like 10 years. apology if i missed anyone on the taglist, it's been forever
you know you're probably wrong. but even if you are, you don't wanna hear about it.
don't wanna hear about all the mistakes and choices you're making on a whim because you've already had enough of today.
you wish you were surprised when san is the first thing you see upon exiting your work building. at this point, it's really just irritating how predictable he is.
he showed up, of course he did. all the purposely missed calls and ignored texts practically an invitation--a mistake on your part.
hands in his pockets and a sullen expression on his face as if you've done him wrong, the beating of your heart louder the closer you are to him, whether you'd like to admit it or not.
he looks tired, even if it's evening and the sun is already faltering from the sky; adorned in his messy unbrushed hair and sweatsuit staring at you with eyes a mix of everything from annoyance, sadness, to anger--all of which you don't wanna deal with right now, if ever.
you suck in your breath and stop in front of him, thinking it's way too cliche if you just walk past him only to be pulled back by the grip on your wrist. so you let him talk.
though it feels like the longest stare-off before he speaks up, after finally picking up the hint that if he isn't gonna, you two might as well stand in unpleasant silence.
"what happened?" is all san says, because he honestly can't even begin to think of what to ask first.
why did you ignore all of his calls and texts yesterday? why are you standing before him now, looking the most pissed off he's seen you in a while when you also just sounded the happiest you've ever been in a while?
but most importantly, how did you all of sudden come to make up your mind so fast about the move? he swears, he was so sure just a day ago you were gonna stay. everything from your actions to body language, even if there were hiccups.
even if there were doubts in the smallest things you did or said at times that had him questioning the possibility for a second... he was still willing to bet you'd eventually end up staying.
"nothing happened. i made up my mind. that's it," you tell him, refusing to meet his eyes while doing so, because if you did, it's almost like you knew he's gonna be able to see through the lies.
either way, he sees through it. some of it, at least. standing unmoved in his spot and trying to make sense of everything.
"i just don't understand," he says defeatedly, probably one of the most vulnerable he's ever sounded. "i was really sure you were gonna stay."
and you'd lie if the way he said it doesn't make your heart pinch with guilt a little, inhaling another deep breath and hurling out words deprived of any empathy, "well you thought wrong."
you can tell he's taken aback by your response; the cold shoulder something he can take, but not when it's also met with harsh words he feels he's undeserving of.
"so that's it?" he says, shrugging with thinning patience and a tone no longer friendly and concerned. "you're just gonna leave?"
after everything. after he's tried so hard to change your mind, and after he was so sure he did.
"i guess so..." you mumble, looking to the ground, ashamed but also too prideful to back down now.
an almost never-ending silence sits between you and san until both of your heads shoot to the opening of the door to your workplace, one of your coworkers making a quick appearance before heading to their car.
san clears his throat.
"can i ask why, at least?"
the question brings an even bigger knot to your throat, because how do you even tell him the real reason at this point and not wanna run away after; losing all of your pride and dignity in front of the very boy you spent most of your life despising.
the same boy, who, you realized maybe you didn't hate so much and that you might even hold some more complex feelings for.
"because," you say, trying your best to sound convincing through all the lies you're about to spew, "i-i just think it's for the best."
it's then that san seems no longer angry or in disbelief, his face turning a softer expression that speaks as if he's come to an understanding, really taking your words for it.
"i see..." he says under his breath, staring down at the ground before looking you in the eyes one last time. "if you're sure that's what you really want, then i hope it works out."
your chest constricts just at the scene replaying in your head again; the defeated look on san's face and the eerie, guilt-stricken sensation you felt in the moment all coming back the same as before.
you down another sip of the drink in your hand, repeating the action every time the thought comes back, losing count on both the number of drinks you're on and the time.
occasionally, the irritating music from the shoddy bar does a good job of distracting you when the drinks isn't enough to overpower the mere thought that you're about to make one of the biggest mistakes of your life.
the bar is nearly empty, like if there weren't music playing, you'd be able to hear a pin drop. but you're thankful for the lack of pestering from guys twice your age due to it, given you're in no mood for confrontations.
it's only peaceful for a moment longer when the front door comes bursting and in arrives what seems like a rather large group of people, the chitters drawing yours and everyone else's attentions.
you groan irritatingly and finish the rest of your drink, considering this as the sign to go home for the night as you ring up the bartender for payment.
grabbing your purse and getting off the stool, you don't make it far past the group of newcomers before a familiar voice calls to you.
"y/n?" you hear him through the now hushed music, turning to your side and meeting his wide but calm eyes.
"hongjoong?" you squeak, swallowing the knot.
it takes him only one glance over to conclude you're a mess, and especially in a place he knows you go to in order to relieve whatever stress and misery you're going through.
"what brings you here?" he asks calmly.
"i should be asking you that," you return, gaze scanning the surrounding and people that has turned such a snoozefest place into a rowdy one.
"had a small but successful showing with the band i'm in, so we wanted to celebrate and invited a couple of our close friends," he answers, much to a silence from you, prompting him to ask, "and you?"
"i wanted to grab a drink," you say, trying your best to sound casual but it's like he saw the buffering in your head when you tried coming up with an excuse.
he raises a brow, his response takes you aback. "you wanna talk about it?"
if you had heard such a thing a couple months ago, you would've scoffed and told him to leave you the hell alone. but currently, you're aware you don't have a lot of choices.
it's either you get some company, or rot in your room for the rest of the night. and maybe hongjoong's in a certainly good mood from the previous event that he's willing to hear you out, because despite the unresolved differences between the two of you, he has always been a good listener.
someone you used to come to all the time when you had problems.
after you say yes (with some hesitation and shame), hongjoong excuses himself, making sure to let some of the people he came with know regarding his whereabouts for the next few minutes.
you both occupy a booth in the far corner overlooking the crowd. hongjoong gets water for you and him because he said he doesn't wanna get buzzed just yet, and that you've had enough for the night.
"been a while, hasn't it?" he speaks, the sight of you across from him in some sketchy bar making him nostalgic.
you both used to do it all the time together; frequenting bars and getting drunk off your asses, seonghwa would have to come pick you guys up.
it's been about three years since the last time.
"yeah," you reply, voice low, because the realization hits you that it has been that long.
it doesn't only make you as nostalgic as him, but also downright depressed because while hongjoong has grown within these past years, truly following his passion and making newer, better friends, you're still in the exact same position you were from before. heck, it's even worse now.
"what's with the long face?" he breaks you out of the thought. "rough day?"
you sigh, mumbling, "pretty much." though you wouldn't even have to answer for him to know. he just does, able to read you like an open book.
he nods understandably and lingers on words he's been wanting to say, eventually giving in.
"hey, look, about yunho's celebration party... i'm sorry if i was a dick."
“fancy seeing you here,” a voice from behind makes you snap around, finding hongjoong with a cup in his hand and something amusing in his eyes.
“thought you got too good for this kind of setting.”
the roll of your eyes is apparent, and you don’t bother to hide it.
“i’m not here to get high or whatever, i’m here for yunho.”
“of course you are,” he snides, the tone and attitude all the evidence that you’re just wasting time talking to him, and that even after all these years, hongjoong still holds a little grudge for you.
"i was just... angry and upset at the sudden sight of you after having not seen you for a while and it all came out without much thoughts."
you shake your head, unfazed from the reminder of your encounter with hongjoong at the celebration party.
"no. i understand. not like i was any nicer that day anyway."
another silence ensues, but you know it's because there's so much to say, hongjoong might not know where you begin. you don't even know where to begin.
"i ran into seonghwa a while ago," you start again, following with a chuckle when you add, "i don't know what it is that i keep running into you two."
hongjoong chuckles along.
"maybe faith wants us back together, i don't know," he jokes, but your laughter fades slowly, turning into something of a light smile.
"i do miss being with you guys," you say, locking eyes with him that speaks more than words can.
not just the parties and crazy memories, but the smaller, meaningful moments--listening to the new track hongjoong just produced as you try not to doze off, being forced to help seonghwa build the lego set he just got, and even just doing homeworks and assignments together although you were failing most of your classes.
it was them who tried to get you back on your feet, and them who tried to uplift you when you were at your lowest.
thinking of it, they might've been there for you more than yunho ever has, because after starting college, almost every instances where you were crying or is a mess, either hongjoong or seonghwa, or both, were by your side.
"i miss it, too," hongjoong says. "we're still great friends, of course, but it's not quite the same without you."
because while you had your shortcomings (most of them related to yunho), you were a great friend nonetheless.
you shared the same sense of humor and you just get him, even in ways seonghwa couldn't; the two of you able to go on for hours just debating and talking about stupid shit.
you were also quite tough in your own ways and never allowed anyone to look down on your friends--not seonghwa's nerdy hobbies, nor hongjoong's occasional shitty tracks.
you can't help the wider smile that breaks out from his comment. hongjoong don't know how much you needed to hear just one thing positive tonight, or maybe he does.
"i'm glad you still ache for my presence," you say lightheartedly, bringing out a chuckle from hongjoong.
"don't flatter yourself."
you laugh the comment off, taking a light sip of water and darting your eyes across the room to the group that came with hongjoong.
"looks like you've been doing well for yourself."
hongjoong nods. "i'd say i'm not doing so bad. and you? what have you been up to?"
it's then that the smile on your face falls, hongjoong taking a notice to it right away.
"you look down tonight, and considering you're here, i can only assume you haven't been having the greatest of time. you know you can always tell me anything, but if you're not ready, i also understand," he says carefully and empathetically, the way he always would when he sensed you were upset.
you take a deep breath because though you haven't properly spoken to him in years, you know hongjoong to be the type to carry a secret to his grave.
"it's just..." you begin, "everything's going to shit lately." obviously.
hongjoong doesn't say anything and lets you carry on respectfully, knowing he's unleashed just about everything you've kept to yourself that's been dying to get out.
"you and seonghwa were right. maybe yunho does love me, but he wasn't in love with me. him and minjeong are together now, and i caught them the night of his celebration party. my parents and his are already talking about an engagement dinner and i don't fucking know," you ramble, watching hongjoong's eyes widen at the revelation.
"woah," is all he can say.
"yeah, i know it's a lot to take in and i'm just starting."
"not to be that person that's a know-it-all, but i kind of felt something was going on between them, too. like there was always a weird ass vibe whenever they were together."
"wow," you say, puzzled. "i guess it must've just been me who was a dumbass and didn't see the signs."
"to be fair, you were pretty full of yourself so it doesn't come as a surprise," he takes a jab, knowing you won't take it to the heart.
you just roll your eyes at the remark, but before you can continue the retelling of your unfortunes, he gets to it first.
"but that's not why you're here tonight, currently drowning in misery?"
you go tight-lipped at that, eventually caving.
"it's not."
this time, he leans in and rest both his hands on the table, never breaking eye contact with you and only making you more nervous about the confession that's to come.
what would he think?
through most of the times that you've known him and seonghwa, you practically spent it denying ever developing any sort of romantic feelings for san, even when they teased you relentlessly about it.
so how would he feel when you tell him that same boy is also the current cause of the misery you're going through?
"tell me about it," he urges in a calm and friendly manner that still makes you have to swallow down the tension in your throat.
"what happened with yunho was a couple months ago," you say, "it was hard. of course it was. but it would've been even worse... if not for san." you almost whisper his name.
"he really helped me during the time. it honestly was nice to be able to talk to just anyone about it." because you're sure hongjoong can already deduce the fact you don't have anyone else besides yunho.
"and it was nice," you continue, " until it wasn't."
"and why is that?" hongjoong asks, his tone slightly teasing though you miss it completely, too immersed in the retelling.
"because..." you linger, biting your bottom lip and no longer able to look hongjoong in the eyes.
"because you've developed feelings for him?" he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, immediately pulling back your gaze as you can only stare dumbfoundedly.
"it's okay. nothing to be ashamed of." he chuckles, making your brows pinch together. "can't say i'm surprised. did think it was only a matter of time."
"wasn't like i planned to," you say, slightly annoyed, because you have no idea what he meant by his last comment.
hongjoong shrugs. "lots of things in life won't go the way we always plan. you know now."
"but only a matter of time for what? for when i'll like him? i never even considered it until some times ago."
"no. i know that. i meant it was only a matter of time till you returned the sentiment considering he's been hung up on you for so long."
you're now even more confused than you were, answering him swiftly, "hung up? as in he likes me?" the response causing the loudest chuckle of the night to erupt from hongjoong, even if he knows he shouldn't be laughing.
you have such a warped view of love, having it ever being in the form of idealizing yunho, he's also not surprise you have no idea that the reason san follows and pesters you all the time isn't because he's doing it to be annoying and make your life harder but because it might've been the only form to get your attention, and he wants it because he likes you--romantically.
hongjoong caught onto that as early as his second encounter with san.
you have wanted to grab a quick snack and drink before your class in an hour and invited hongjoong along, the both of you caught up in a conversation and forgetting about why you even came in the first place, when a tap on the table makes you forget what you were gonna tell him.
"hi," san greets, glaring down at you and smiling even if you're already exasperating just at the sight of him.
hongjoong met a lot of people at the last party, a few he's already forgotten, but he remembers san fondly mainly because he couldn't keep his eyes off of you all night (and cause you went off on a tangent about him not leaving you alone).
wherever he, you, and seonghwa were going, he found the boy following; if not physically, then always with a watchful gaze.
"i saw you didn't get anything to drink so i got you your favorite," he says, settling down the cup of hibiscus iced tea that you shoot to with lasers in your eyes.
"i don't want it," you blurt, not even bothering to look at him as you say it, because he's done more than enough to annoy you this week alone. and now running into him here, too.
"but i got it especially for you, made with love." his voice high and cheery, paying no attention to the irritation seeping from your body language and tone.
you stand up from the seat with a sigh, telling hongjoong you'll be back and head for the women's restroom.
"what's her problem?" san questions, scoffing and taking the seat you were just occupying. "i was just trying to do something nice."
"i don't know. maybe she's just pissed from a certain dickhead following her around all week," hongjoong says sarcastically, san raising an eyebrow in return before he shrugs it off.
"nothing that i also didn't do the week before."
"a pleasant person you sound," hongjoong quips, the both of them holding a stare-off so strong, the tension could probably shatter glass.
"and you are?" though san says it calmly, there's an edge in his delivery that's testing hongjoong's endurance.
"someone that actually respects her enough to not follow her around like a creep."
san snickers from the comment, a smirk overtaking his face.
"you don't have to act all high and mighty when you're just sticking around for the chance to get laid," san snarks, the smugness and such childishness from a person making hongjoong see red, but he manages to contain himself.
"we're just friends, but you can think whatever you wanna think. something tells me you're dying to be in my position, though," hongjoong bites back, the smirk on san's lips slowly fading at the last remark.
because he's seen it, the way san looks at him and seonghwa with envy and resentment written all over him.
but despite the initial harshness of the encounter, san grew on hongjoong overtime and vice versa.
they weren't close by any means (mostly because you wouldn't have allowed it), but they were able to be within the same proximity and actually have a good time together; the young boy even sharing a few of his interests.
"yes, he likes you," hongjoong says, holding back the amusement as if having to reiterate it to a kid. "why else would me and seonghwa continuously tease you about him?"
"but it doesn't make any sense."
you swear you're not that dense, but you mostly just didn't consider it because of the way san is. he did nothing but consistently went out of his way to irritate you, only until the whole yunho and your sister shenanigans did you start seeing a different side of him.
"plus, if he likes me, then why would he sleep with other girls? flirt with them and kiss them?" just saying it brings back that same queasy sensation, similar to when you saw the girl back at san's place.
hongjoong thinks about it. he isn't san, but in comparison to you, he's had far more experiences when it comes to relationships and dating, so he can offer a theory or two.
"i can't say exactly because i'm not him, but my guess is, he doesn't see it as wrong necessarily because you two aren't together."
"but he's also dated people. he was in relationships," you tell hongjoong more passionately, as if demanding for an immediate explanation to this nonsense.
"people date and are in relationships with others they don't like or love all the time," he answers nonchalantly.
but it doesn't make you feel any better, nor did it answer anything.
"so he's just an asshole and this is a mistake?"
hongjoong sighs and face palms, shaking his head before recollecting himself.
"maybe. maybe not. but one thing for sure is that he likes you, and everything you just asked me now, he can answer it himself."
you let his words linger in silence, picking your head up again when he speaks.
"anything else you wanna get off your chest?"
you bat your lashes and bite your lips before telling him, "i-i also might've told him i'm gonna be leaving for japan although i haven't notified my boss of the final decision, yet."
hongjoong tilts his head and quirks his lips to the side, about to say something when someone in the crowd calls out to him.
"yeah i'll be there in a quick sec!" he yells back.
"it's okay, you can go," you assure, appreciative of his time.
he nods. "yeah, i'm afraid i can't keep them waiting any longer. but hey, i hope you figure things out with san and reach out to me if you want. my number is still the same."
"for sure," you reply with a smile.
"but you good? think you can get home by yourself?" he asks worriedly.
"yeah, i'm good. i can call a cab."
"alright. safe trip," he says one last time before standing up, but you stop him midway with a soft call of his name before he can disappear from your sight.
"i'm sorry... for what i said and did that day," you tell him, looking and sounding as apologetic as one can be, because you truly are.
he doesn't say anything until a few seconds later, the blank expression turning into a softer smile.
"apology accepted. i'm also sorry for that day."
"apology accepted."
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going off on your own without letting san know the real reason why might lead to one of the biggest mistakes you'll make. but you're not sure if going to his place right now is the right choice, either.
you make your way to the floor he's on, doing the best you can to shut out any images from the other day; standing in front of his door while your heart beats loudly into your ears and stalling even further to think of what he could be up to at 11 in the night.
he might be asleep, or he might not even be home--or there's a good chance he's relieving the stress of today's event the way you know he would, but you'd rather not think about it.
the press to the doorbell is slow and hesitant at first, but you ring it three times at least, standing still for a good minute; the anxiety and nervousness from before replaced by a strange disappointment that he actually really might not be home.
with a low sigh, you turn your back to the door in defeat, barely two steps out when it flings open behind you, bringing back the nervousness from before as you swallow down the knot.
"y/n?" he calls out, your back still to him.
and oh how comforted you are just to hear his voice again, even if it hasn't even been a full day since you two last talked.
you finally face him with batting lashes as you meet his eyes, seeing his hair is still wet and he has a towel hanging over his shoulder, he was probably in the shower when you came ringing.
"hey," you say quietly, your lips drawing a thin smile because this is really awkward. you've never been in this situation with san before, obviously.
"what are you doing here?" he asks softly. "i mean, not that i'm not relieved to see you, but just that... you know, what happened today." his voice thins out toward the end, like he isn't sure if he's supposed to be bringing it up this soon.
but you're glad he does.
"i-i want to talk to you about it... truthfully, this time," you tell him, biting back for a short second before continuing. "is it okay if i come in?"
he doesn't hesitate to nod. "yeah, of course." moving out of the way and widening the frame for you.
everything is and looks the same as last time you were here, duh, but the air is different. it could be due to the fight this evening, or that there's a clear change in your relationship with san and how you view him.
you don't know whether to stand or sit, fidgeting and watching san walk over and plop himself down on the sofa in front of you, a chuckle escaping him when he catches onto the sight.
"you just gonna stand the entire time, or?" he teases, prompting an eye roll in return as you sit down in the very same spot you've sat plenty of times before.
taking in his body language and treatment of you so far, you wonder if this is just how san is. that he copes in a way that seems as if nothing is really bothering him... or maybe he got over it, you don't know.
he seemed upset earlier, but anything can happen in a matter of hours.
the thickest silence enters only a moment after, and it's only fair you take the initiative since you came to find him, and it was also you that made it a problem in the first place.
"earlier," you start cautiously, "i wasn't in the right headspace at all."
you wait for a reaction from him before adding anything else, afraid you'll bombard him with too much at once.
"it's okay. i could tell something was bothering you, but it bothered me too because i could also tell you weren't being honest."
you almost wanna cower because just him saying it already makes you feel guilty.
"and a big decision like that doesn't get made overnight. you were fine the day before. something big must've had to happen for you to change your mind so quickly, right?" the way he stares so deeply as if searching for an answer; the desperation in his voice is felt and only worsening your guilt.
"yeah, something did happen," you say, not sure where to begin but beginning nonetheless.
his features twist, glaring at you with a mix of sympathy and curiosity.
"is it... about yunho?" he asks carefully.
san enjoys the time he spent with you; even more than he would have thought, and though you both didn't start off on the best path, he sees potentials in the relationship changing for the better--not even romantically (he don't know if that's possible), but to where you two could be friends for once in the 20 plus years you guys have known each other.
for a bit, it seemed like it was finally happening. but maybe in your head and heart, yunho will always occupy a special kind of space he cannot compete with, no matter how hard he tries.
"no," you answer, much to san's surprise, taking a long pause and then finally telling him what made you so upset that you considered moving across the sea. "i saw her when i was coming up to your place yesterday."
you have no idea how he's gonna to take it; if it's something to boost his ego or maybe he'll just laugh it off because it's actually so dumb, but you try to figure which is it gonna be, gaze never leaving his sight.
but san raises a brow as if trying to decipher what you mean, then it hits him.
"nari?" he squeaks.
yes, nari. the one you're sure is with him at most parties, and also probably the one he was with that one time you ran into him coming out of a bedroom looking all kinds of fucked up.
you've seen san with a variety of girls through the years, but she's easily the most recognizable.
san looks to still be in his thoughts, now attempting to piece together what is it about nari being here yesterday that could make you so upset.
and when you see his puzzled expression slowly replaced by a smirk that only gets bigger, you know he's figured it out.
"are you... perhaps, jealous?" he says, the slyest tone ever gracing your ears, raising the temperature on your cheeks as they probably burn a bright pink.
you're blushing because of choi san... just incredible.
when you're still to prideful to admit it, he gets off from where he was sitting and shamelessly throws himself down next to you, making you scoot over as a reflex, but he goes out of his way to close the space between you two.
he's so close now, face merely inches away and pestering you to answer while you refuse to meet his eyes.
"you were jealous, right?" he tilts his head, tone annoying but also flirty.
"shut up," you spit, finally facing him and able to pick up his natural scent from this angle, you actually can't believe you'd even think about how attractive he looks in a moment like this.
his showered hair, bare face, and the proximity that makes the scene much more intimate--
"it's not funny," you add, because the smirk isn't leaving him at all, and now he's laughing, too.
"it's only because i think you're cute," he says, now suddenly swinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in even closer. "like i swear, you didn't give a rat ass about me less than two months ago. did i finally win your heart?"
it feels like he's deflecting, so you try your best to ignore the antics, persisting with all seriousness, "so are you gonna explain yourself?" you haven't cracked a smile even once.
the bigger grin on his face mellows out into a softer smile.
"we didn't do anything," he says calmly, much to a silence from you because you're hoping he has more to say than that, which he does. "i had her over because i wanted to talk to her about something."
"like... what?"
he snickers at such coyness that you're doing an awful job at hiding.
"that i think it's best me and her stop whatever we had going on."
you can only blink because it's not exactly the response you were expecting, asking in a low voice, "and why is that so?"
"because i had a good feeling about you, and that you were gonna stay."
it turns so quiet after, you think you can hear the footsteps littering outside the hall; san's answer making you feel all sorts of way, you're not sure how to react.
"i'm sorry," you finally say out loud, the look on san unchanging even through all of this. "it was just overwhelming in the moment and it was as if nothing could make it better... especially after everything."
"it's fine," he assures. "i just can't believe you made such a life-changing decision because of that. is it too late to take it back?" he's a mixture of being absolutely serious and half laughing.
"yeah, about that... i, uh, i haven't told my boss, yet."
because it is big, and it is life-changing, and maybe you were hoping there could be something else that could convince you to stay.
san stares at you in disbelief before he cracks out a chuckle again, shaking his head.
"you're crazy," he mumbles, the comment prompting an eye roll from you.
"you scared me so much," san goes on. "i don't know what i would've done if you really left."
there's a brief stare-off before you blank and move your gaze to the coffee table at the end of your feet, mind suddenly drawing back to the encounter with hongjoong.
"i ran into hongjoong before i came here," you tell him, his head perking with interests. "i was drinking and he came in with his group of music junkies."
san only listens, giving you the space to talk until you ask of him yourself.
"you know what he told me?"
"what?"
you chuckle lightly before you can even get the words out; san watching in amusement and pondering as to what you could find so funny.
"he said that you have liked me for a long time," you say, no longer afraid to look him in the eyes while your heart beats silently but loud to your own ears, hongjoong's words replaying in your head while you await a response.
“maybe. maybe not. but one thing for sure is that he likes you, and everything you just asked me now, he can answer it himself.”
san quirks his lips to the side and shrugs half-heartedly, his relaxed manner tells you he's just teasing you but honestly, san can be hard to read.
then he finally answers, after you're about to open your big mouth again, "i guess that's why i never liked being around hongjoong much, even if he's cool... the guy can be too observant."
he pretty much confirms it without saying so, a part of you relieved and then another now realizing you're gonna have to carry the conversation and decide what you wanna do with this... information. if you even have to do anything.
"since when?" you ask, just a little curious and wondering.
he hums and removes the arm that was around your shoulders this entire time to cross it with his other one as his back falls to the couch.
"to be honest, it comes and goes. but the very first time i remember liking you was actually when i first met you."
even at the age of nine, he thought you were the prettiest girl he's ever seen. the way you dressed and the way you always did your hair, putting it in a high ponytail or a bun; and the way you liked to wear red and black most of the times made it easy to pick you out.
he was too young at the time and didn't know how to go about having a crush on someone, so he might've done a thing or two to piss you off, and it also didn't help that you were an emo ass kid as hard-headed as a rock.
you didn't just treat him that way, but also everybody else. everybody except yunho.
he loves his brother and has more than a civil relationship with him now, but he just never really understood what was it about yunho that made him so special to you.
"i mean, of course, you were mean as hell, but it's complicated," he adds, shaking his head and snickering quietly at the fact.
but you're more fixated on something else he just said, reiterating, "it comes and goes as in... sometimes you would like me and sometimes you wouldn't?"
“yes, he likes you,” hongjoong says, holding back the amusement as if having to reiterate it to a kid. “why else would me and seonghwa continuously tease you about him?”
“but it doesn’t make any sense.”
“plus, if he likes me, then why would he sleep with other girls? flirt with them and kiss them?” just saying it brings back that same queasy sensation, similar to when you saw the girl back at san’s place.
"i guess you can put it that way?" his voice raises in pitch, as if unsure himself. "it's quite difficult to put in words."
"make me understand," you state in all seriousness.
because again, your biggest doubt when it comes to san is his ability to commit to you and only you. even if you wanna believe him, and he's proven himself the past couple of months that he can surprise you in good ways, what happened with yunho and your sister might've instilled some newfound trauma and trust issues.
you watch as he catches his breath and seems to linger on his thoughts for a few seconds more.
he starts, "there were times i really liked you, the feelings can be quite intense. like that one time when we both were dazed as hell and we kissed, it felt surreal. or whenever i think you look super hot in a certain outfit, the feeling also creeps up again. i also enjoy our banters, and pretty much any time we have a somewhat normal interaction, i would also get it."
you listen attentively with your stomach and chest doing something funny just hearing san speak about you this way.
"then there would be those times... times where you would annoy me and i'd think you're a total bitch. like when you insulted me in front of my friends or just the way you'd always flop around yunho like he's jesus or something. plus, my feelings and the chances of it actually happening are two different things, so it not being an exclusive relationship overall made it easy for me to do whatever i want."
“i can’t say exactly because i’m not him, but my guess is, he doesn’t see it as wrong necessarily because you two aren’t together.”
hongjoong pretty much got it spot on, and you suppose san doesn't owe you any allegiance. that would be ridiculous.
"well that's good to know," is all you say, still trying to process everything.
"what about you?" he asks coyly. "when did you start liking me?"
the question takes you aback, always so bold and daring, but now only staring back like a little deer caught in headlights.
"probably when i was most desperate, i don't know," you joke, a chuckle bubbling out of san. "no, but really, i think it's just when you were there for me when i needed someone the most."
you almost wanna cower because just talking about such a thing with san makes you feel cringe and embarrassed, and he sees it all over your face.
"that's nice to hear." he smiles, the sight pleasant to look at; the genuine happiness on him because you're saying so many nice things about him tonight.
there's a quick pause as you both think of what to say next, knowing what kind of questions and conversation usually follows, but not wanting to be the first to say it.
"so are you gonna be staying?" he changes subject, because you might not wanna get to that part, yet.
your eyes sparkles with something mischievous and playful, answering him, "well, i don't have much reasons to leave now, do i?"
he smirks and nods.
"yeah, i guess you don't." his tone changes the next and sounding much serious. "i was happy to see that it was you at the door. i was afraid this evening could've been our last meeting."
the reminder brings back a pang of guilt as you feel yourself shrinking on the couch.
"again, i'm sorry. just still trying to learn how to deal my emotions... efficiently at least."
"no, i understand. in the end, you came back and made up for it."
"i did." you smile lightly. you couldn't have done it without hongjoong.
there's a comfortable silence before san exhales and turns his head toward the kitchen, then back to you.
"have you eaten?"
you shake your head. "no, but i'm good. i should probably get back. i don't wanna be late to work tomorrow."
"i can drive you back, if you don't mind."
given you don't look like you're in the best condition, and along with a rosy scent he's always known you by, there's a whisk of alcohol that you've even admitted to, though you surprisingly look and sound more than coherent.
--
the car ride is quiet but comfortable as you both let the music fill the air. some songs you don't recognize, but it does goes perfectly with the night as san weaves through lanes a little too fast--something you'd probably yell at him for if you were in a more sober state of mind.
but tonight has gone so well and you don't wanna take any chances of ruining it.
he parks just right outside the gate of your parents place, unlocking the doors and snapping to you.
"here it is," he says.
"you not gonna go say hi to your parents or yunho?" you tease, considering his parents place and family is just next door.
"nah." he shakes his head. "it's too late, and i'm sure they already know i love them."
you smile and unbuckle your seatbelt. "alright."
he nods, and you both just sit there for a moment too long; the unspoken words and uncertainty as equally bothering to you as it is to him, but you're not sure how to bring it up.
you just know you don't wanna end the night without talking about it, at least.
"hey," you say softly, your voice quiet and blending into the night while san doesn't look away from you one bit. "i, uhm... i'll think about it, okay? i mean, if you want me to."
you're stammering and sounding the most awkward you've been all night (which is a feat), that san can't help but to laugh it off. and he knows you're not talking about the decision to stay.
"yeah, of course. take your time. you know i'll be here," he assures, always having a way to make you feel secure and listened to.
"i appreciate it," you mumble, sending him one last smile, about ready to head out. "thank you by the way."
he returns the smile and nods. "no problem."
"i'll get going then," you say, opening the door halfway and about to leave, but instead taking a deep breath as you turn to san, which surprises him.
he blinks in bewilderment. "did you--"
then it happens. a quick peck to his lips before pulling away to his stunned gaze, backing yourself out of the car and giggling.
"goodnight," you coo teasingly, shutting the door and waving him off.
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it's crazy how just a week ago, there was a chance you were gonna be flying across the sea to go live in another country.
how much more sad and unhappy you felt; as if that was your only option left. but now already feeling two times better with your future looking a little more than just bleak.
you have surely told your boss you're gonna stay; the news a relief to him because it would cost a lot more resources having to find a replacement, as well as provide the proper training.
and you have surely talked to the landlord of the complex you were seeking a while ago that you're gonna take the place, after which she so kindly walked you through all the steps and what documents you needed to provide.
you just finished going over the contract with her the day prior, and all you need to do now is pay the deposit.
you should be able to move in by friday, she said.
when you told your family about the move, you weren't surprised they didn't seem to care all that much--your parents, at least. minjeong visibly took the news a lot harder.
even if you guys didn't have the best relationship growing up and aren't that close even now, the house's gonna feel a lot more empty now, she said. she's gotten used to you being around for more than 20 years now.
but you think a part of your parents are just relieved to finally have you out of the house and start life on your own after being with them for so long. you'd rather think of it that way, but after all, not like it's gonna matter all that much when you are moved out.
you also swallowed your pride and finally reached out to both hongjoong and seonghwa again (you're still a tad ashamed by the events that followed even if hongjoong had given you the green light).
you all have set up a time and place to meet up next month when you all should be available, so that's something to look forward to.
san has been helping you window shop for furnitures, recommending which he thinks is best based on his experiences and whatnot, though you made sure you tell him you want interior as minimalistic as possible.
clean and just overall simple.
you'll be moving most of the things from your current room to the new one, taking your bed that's an actual necessity with, so you'll worry about actually purchasing furnitures when you're finally moved into the place.
as for things with san, it's always a gamble regarding what's gonna go down whenever you do hang out with him.
on some occasions, he'd act completely normal and treat you as a friend similar to before. then more than half the time, he'd flirt and bring up the peck from a week ago, but never going further than that.
you feel as if you're both currently pushing and pulling and playing a game of who's gonna crack first.
"tomorrow," you tell san over the phone, currently ripping everything from posters to every pieces of decorations that might've been there since you were in high school, off of your walls.
it took a day later than expected to process all the paperworks and everything, but you finally received a call earlier that you can finally move in tomorrow on saturday.
yunho must've heard about it from your sister or san, because you definitely did not tell him nor have you even talked to him in a while. but he texted you this morning if you needed any help with the move, to which you kindly declined though thanked him for the offer.
he asked how you were doing and you said you were doing better. that you're excited to finally have your own place and for what's to come after that.
you and san seems close lately, you recall one of his texts at the top of your head.
yeah, a little, you responded.
"i'll be there, definitely," san replies back. "anything for you, my dear."
you grimace at the pet name and scoffs.
"and who said you can call me that?" you throw the things you've managed to gather into the cardboard box on the floor.
"don't act like you don't like it. anyway, i'll be there at 8 a.m. sharp."
"for what you just said, make that 7."
before you can end the call, you hear his laughter from the other line.
--
"and i want the t.v. stand over here... no! over here!" you talk to yourself, pointing to exact spots and ponder just how you want everything to be.
"a little help?" san's voice come from behind you, muffled by the box he's carrying until he plops it down near the kitchen, all out of breath.
"you're a big boy, you got it," you brush off the complaint, walking back to the bedroom and seeing your mattress flat on the floor, already huffing at the thought of having to build the bed frame back up again.
you hear the shut of the front door, san's voice piercing into the bedroom.
"that should be the last of it. for today at least."
you turn to head back into the living room, barely making it through the doorway when you thump against his chest, rubbing your forehead after as you look up at him.
"don't i get something for helping you out?" he says, tone sly and cunning, you don't even wanna admit what it does to your heart.
he's been doing this a lot more often--say things with the slightest innuendos behind them just to get a reaction out of you. or maybe he's trying to see how far he can push now that there's been a change of dynamic. kind of.
but you remain unfazed by his comment, keeping your ground and telling him, "if you come by later, i'll make dinner for you in return."
he looks over your shoulder to the unfinished bedroom.
"don't you need help with the bed frame?"
you shake your head. "i got it. plus, i've bothered you enough for today, so i'll let you go for now."
"i don't mind staying to help."
"no. i need some time to settle in. and, we still got a lot more work to do tomorrow."
he hesitates, but eventually gives in. that it's more about you needing this time to yourself; in a new environment and finally a place to call your own.
"alright. but if you need me, call me."
"i will."
he walks to the door as you follow behind, holding the door open for him while he now lingers in the hallway facing you.
"i'll come by later, though. i'm not forgetting that."
you chuckle and lightly roll your eyes.
"yeah, of course. and bring a drink or two. we'll celebrate."
"for you finally having your own place."
"for me finally having my own place," you repeat, a smile on your lips mirroring san's.
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you spend most of the day setting up the bedroom and assembling the bed frame, thankfully remembering where everything goes from the top of your head because you threw out the instructions maybe five years ago.
you unbox everything and attempt to place the decorations where you think they look best for now, shoving all the empty boxes into a corner after for the next morning when you'll have to take out the trashes.
the living room is empty. no couches, no nothing because you haven't bought anything; the area for now only consisting of a rug and a small table you brought from your previous room because you and san need somewhere to sit and eat on.
when you're sure you're done with all the unboxing for the day, you run for the grocery store just around the corner, grabbing a pot, a pan, other essentials, then the ingredients.
it's almost 5 in the afternoon by the time you start cooking, and though it's been a long day, something about it feels accomplishing. being by yourself, cooking in your own apartment and not having to worry about anything else.
it might be too soon to say, but you think you've made the right choice.
as the stew's just about to be done, there's a knock at the door that you happily skip to, flinging the frame open to no one other than san with a plastic bag around one of his arms.
"hey," you greet.
"hey," he returns, taking it upon himself to walk in as if it's his own home, a strong aroma hitting his nose immediately. "wow, it smells good in here."
"i did say i was gonna cook," you say, shutting the door.
"yes, and i brought a drink or two just like you said." he wiggles the bag in his arm, then peeking over the pot boiling on the stove. "whatchu' cooking?"
"kimchi stew," you answer. "but i also bought some ramen just in case."
"that's perfect," he says, walking over and setting down the bag of drinks onto the floor just right next to the small table.
"sorry. i'm still working on getting a dining set." you half chuckle at the sad sight of the current setup.
"this will do."
he works on setting the drinks: two simple bottle of sojus he got on the way here because tonight isn't about having fun or whatever. he wants it to be meaningful, maybe even sweet.
you place the still hot stew in the middle, going back to the kitchen to grab two small bowls and utensils, handing him his and finally able to rest peacefully across from him while the steam from the pot blocks your view of each other.
"so how is it so far?" he asks, being the one to start.
"good," you answer, the same time you go in with a spoon for a taste test.
"feels nice, doesn't it? like you have all the freedom in the world." san does the same, his eyes lighting up when he's able to digest the flavor. "wow. you're amazing, y/n."
you can't help but roll your eyes, still trying to slowly settle into the way he'd just casually compliment you with such sincereness.
"i'm glad you think so. but yes, it is like as if i have all the freedom in the world. for now, at least." you chuckle, and he follows shortly after.
"in a month or so, let me know how you feel again."
you nod to his words, the next minute an air of silence as you both busy yourself with the food and drink.
it's more than past 6, the sky outside turning a darker color and painting the neighborhood more empty.
you're just about done with swallowing the portion of your food when a thought crosses, being the one to start speaking again.
"were you the one who told yunho i was moving?"
he looks up from his bowl at that with blinking eyes, placing it down on the table and shakes his head, his mouth still full.
"why would i do that? then i'd have competitions for who's gonna help you move in."
you laugh at that, placing your utensils down and resting your hands on your lap.
"how's yunho?" you ask, because even if you don't wanna think about it, yunho has been a part of your life. someone you clung onto for a large chunk of it, and it wouldn't be realistic if you were completely over it within just the span of a few months.
you no longer want to be with him, and you no longer think of the what ifs, but it does sting and ache a little when the reminder of the events comes up once in a while.
still, you wouldn't change anything and any regrets you've had, you feel you've already made amends with; only hoping to not make any more.
"he's been doing good," san answers. "the best i've seen from him in a while."
you smile, mumbling, "that's good to hear."
you don't know if you could ever say it to your sister, but for what it is-- whether good or bad, they deserve each other. yunho and her.
they've always been more alike and compatible than you and yunho could ever be and it was something you struggled accepting for the longest time.
"what about you? how are you doing?" san questions, catching your gaze in his. "i know it hasn't been easy."
because san acknowledges it, too. how much yunho meant to you. that you used to see nothing and no one else but only yunho.
"better," you assure, a soft and comforting smile on your lips while you pause and hold the exact words you want to say, letting it go when you feel most ready. "better because of you."
you see san swallowing and his food and the chopsticks he was previously holding now forgotten on the table as he continues giving you his full attention.
"you were there for me when i needed someone the most, and you're still here for me. i don't know..." you practically murmur the last part, shaking your head and chuckling quietly, "i liked yunho a lot because it seemed he was the first person who accepted me for who i am."
you sound like a broken record at this point, but talking about it--your feelings, and especially to san helps you understand it better.
"i was too stupid and uncaring in the eyes of my parents, and too odd and indecipherable in the eyes of everyone else. kind of ironic, isn't it? i hated the fact people judged me without knowing me when i, too, judged you without knowing enough of you."
san listens and he knows this is it. you're pouring all of your heart out with nothing left to hide, whether it's things you've already said or haven't.
you ramble on, "i mean, i always thought some of them might end up liking me if they got to know me, and then that turned out to be true for you, too. i got to know more about you and i do like you..."
san feels his heart caving in, wondering if this might be it as well. a moment he's been waiting so long to happen but unsure if you wanted it as soon and as much as he does.
"is this a confession?" he tries his best for it to come out as light hearted as possible, an attempt to conceal just how on edge he actually is.
there's a pause before you answer, shaky voice and all. "i guess so."
but san doesn't celebrate his victory too early, yet; a "but" coming out of you quick enough to stop him.
"i'm just afraid," you finally admit to him the very thing weighing you down, and why even though you like him, you're just the slightest skeptical actually doing something about it.
"what are you afraid of?" he asks concernedly, desperate to resolve all and any doubts you have.
you take a short breath. "just the entire thing with yunho... i keep fearing the same thing will happen. when i texted you that night that i was going to japan, it wasn't just because i was jealous, but also because it made me realize if i was only replacing yunho with you. i know that's not the case because what i feel for you is different from what i felt for yunho, but i still can't shake it off."
you're talking so fast, you don't even catch the exact moment san's already moved from across you to right beside you, taking your hands into his and looking you in the eyes.
"i promise you that what happened with yunho won't happen with me," he says, passion in his voice wishing for you to believe him. "i will make sure it won't."
and you do want to believe him. end all the doubts and skepticism here, but you also wanna be honest.
"but the way you are, san... it makes it hard for me even if i wanna believe you. you change girls like you change your underwear. how would i know for sure giving this a chance won't be a mistake?"
you can feel the way san tenses up at the harsher words, maybe a hint of hurt in his dull eyes, but he gathers himself rather quickly for his turn.
"i understand. i don't blame you given i don't exactly have the best track record, and i don't know for sure if this is gonna be a mistake, but i do wanna give it a chance... if you want, of course."
he takes a short pause before continuing, "i've never been with two girls at once, and i always broke things off if i don't see it working out. and if i don't want anything serious, i let them know. but i've never felt the way i'm feeling for you right now for anyone else, ever, and it's something that i'm sure of the more i'm with you."
you blink at that, your stomach tightening and breath shallow, the scene much more intense and real than the first night when you two first talked about this mutual interest.
"i always thought that it was because we grew up together, and that definitely played some part, but i also grew up with minjeong and never really felt anything particular about her. i do like you a lot, so let the decision be in your hand whether you want more out of this or not. you already know my answer."
his grip on your hands has become looser with time, the food and drink now long forgotten, the only thing in your mind is the way he's looking at you and how important your next few words are.
"we can give it a try," you slowly and quietly answer, watching san's pupils go wide as he breaks out into a wide smile after.
"thank you," he manages to say calmly and coolly despite his body feeling anything but that.
he places a kiss to the top of your hand, prompting you to pull away in fake disgust and a laughter.
"i guess dreams do come true after all," he jokes, another one that makes you roll your eyes, feeling a little shy all of a sudden.
"well i'm gonna go wash my dishes," you attempt to switch the subject, grabbing your bowl and untensils and head for the kitchen.
san quirks an eyebrow and raises his voice from his seat.
"but there's still so much food left." he stares at the amount left, then back to you, getting off the floor himself to follow behind, watching as you turn on the faucet and completely ignore him.
"oh i know what this is." he smirks, overtaking your hand and turning off the faucet, finally getting a reaction out of you as you snap your neck his way. "you're shy."
you blink, swallowing a quick knot and shake your head.
"i'm not," you say, turning back to aim for the faucet, but san beats you again, a stare-off ensuing with amusement written all over his eyes.
"you are. is it because it's weird we're practically girlfriend and boyfriend now?" he tilts his head.
hearing the terms out loud definitely is weird, you can't even deny the fact, instead nodding your head that gets a snicker out from san.
"yeah, it's gonna take some time for sure." he smiles, and the volume and tone at which he says it almost like he's trying to seduce you.
you've just realized how sensual and close you guys are at this angle. your back against the sink and chest basically rubbing his own as he's cornered you into this state, gawking down at you with a look that makes you wanna cower.
the quietest air goes by with his head only lowering each second, and you realize it, too, that you wanna kiss him just as bad.
with a close of your eyes, his lips is on yours the next, still at first, then slowly moving in an attempt to find the perfect rhythm until you respond.
your hands find itself resting on the counter of the sink as the kiss makes your back dig into the edge. it isn't messy nor done sloppily despite how long san's been waiting for the moment again.
it's rather clean but passionate, giving san a kick back to the night he got to taste you for the first time even if you both weren't in the right state of minds, but it's one he doesn't forget easily.
both his grip has made way to rest at your hips, giving it a light squeeze and it doesn't take long for your arms to come up and around his shoulders, the scene taking a quick turn and you feel yourself losing your breath with each passing second.
when you both finally pull away, you nor san know how many minutes has gone by, only that his hair is already messy and tangled when you haven't even done much to it, and you're still trying to catch your breath.
you're the first to break into a small giggle with san following after, his grip still at your hips and your arms still around his shoulders.
"wow. that kiss already made me hard as a rock," san blurts, breaking the immersion as you roll your eyes.
"yeah, i can tell," you reply, shifting your legs slightly because the entire time, san's boner was pressing down on it.
he laughs shamelessly, proceeding to press only harder because he likes seeing your reaction, and he takes it you're fine with it because you're no longer fighting it.
"tell me, are you the type to have sex first date?" he asks, his head slightly tilted and honestly looking so attractive.
"not really," you answer. "but is this really a first date?" you say it with the tiniest slyness and coyness, a lot of initial hesitation but when you really think about it, there's no reason to not sleep with san at this point.
especially at your age and with the little experiences you have, it's about time. beside, you always hear it's good to know and discover your sexual chemistry with someone in the early stages, because often than not, incompatibilities in that regard can destroy a relationship perfectly fine in other aspects.
"you're right." san smirks, causing a small squeak from you when he snakes his arms aroud your butt suddenly and lifts you onto the counter, but you stop him before he can do anything else.
"wait. can we do this in the bedroom instead? i'd just prefer my kitchen to be, you know... clean, since this is where i cook."
he laughs, catching the way your eyelashes would flutter cutely and nods his head, helping you down onto the floor again.
"thanks," you say, barely able to fix the wrinkles of your pants when he grabs your wrist and leads you to the bedroom, proceeding to throw you down on the bed the softest he can as he hovers over you.
the current position a bit unreal because san never really thought it would happen.
"just out of curiosity," san starts, "have you ever slept with yunho?"
you bite your lower lip and shake your head. "never any penetrations. he always said that should wait till marriage."
it's not that you didn't wanna sleep with yunho, but the other way around it seems. and now you know why.
san quirks his lips to the side and accepts the answer.
"if i did, would you not want to sleep with me anymore?" you ask just for the sake of his response, mirth in your eyes and amusement hanging by your tongue.
he cranks an eyebrow and actually thinks about it.
"that would be kind of nasty, i'm not gonna lie," he says, much to a laughter in response. "so i'm glad that's not the case."
"yeah, thankfully," you say after, teasing him slightly.
the both of you stay still for a few seconds more before san takes it as a sign to lower his lips again to capture yours for another kiss.
he lets his body fall on top of yours gently, his weight heavy but nice as you're comforted by the warmth of his skin that makes you feel even closer to him.
you hear and feel him shift, lifting his left arm off the bed to find the end of your shirt and bury his fingers underneath to where the bare of your skin is.
you can't help the low whimper at the sensation of his fingers crawling on your skin and making way to where your bra is, flinching just the slightest when his entire hand cups the shape of your breast.
he breaks the kiss to look down at your already messy state, whispering, "always wanted to know how these felt." the comment making you bite at your lower lip again, something so alluring about the way he says it.
you take it upon yourself to sit up, san removing his hand to watch you undress your top, the way you do it so sensually and almost teasingly like a scene straight from some porn video.
he's almost too into the sight, he forgets you're actually in front of him all flesh and bones, until you've already rid of everything and calling his name.
your titties out and spilling, the actual thing better than he could have imagined. better than all those times he'd spend trying to make them out and just picture how your actual breasts look.
"fuck, you're so hot, y/n," he hiss, the frustration on him makes you giggle before he latches on with both his hands and takes a dive, one nipple in his mouth and the other one being fondled with.
a moan escapes your mouth at the wetness of his tongue circling one of your nipples, throwing your head back to stare at the ceiling and holding back an even louder moan when he squeezes your other one.
it goes on for a few minute at least; how he switches back and forth between your breasts and hand always on the other to make sure it's not neglected, whether he's groping it or playing with it.
"san," you call his name, his eyes shooting up to look at you with lips red from the service. you don't say anything, instead calmly getting on your knees and breaking the contact with san as he tries to guess your next move.
your gaze moves to his crotch area and he gets the message instantly, smirking in return.
he spreads his legs merrily as you crawl closer, one last look of exchange before you reach for the hem of his shorts, pulling it down along his boxer underneath just enough for his hard cock to spring itself out, his length sitting straight up and making you swallow a knot.
he adjusts himself enough for you to sit yourself between his legs, gaining the perfect access to do what you need to do.
with a careful grip, his cock is in your hold as you're stroking it up and down, observing the sight of him rolling his eyes and looking just so hot; all the more reasons you wanna have sex with him.
he isn't too long in length, but his girth is quite thick and just enough for you.
you get ready to take him in, lowering your head each passing second and stroking it faster until your tongue licks over the tip of his cock and he releases the sexiest moan ever as a result.
one of your hands still grip the rest of his cock while your mouth stays on the tip of it until you're there long enough, tilting your head to lick the side and and coating every inch of it before starting from the top again and taking his entire length in the best you can.
there's tears in your eyes the lower you go, but you also know just when to stop, coming back up just below the tip and going down again, repeating the action until you see san is a groaning mess of pleasure.
nothing but "fuck" comes out of his mouth, his right hand having found itself on a bundle of your hair, helping and guiding you as you give him the blowjob of his life.
he lets go and you pull away after some time, both of you huffing and puffing, smiles crossing your lips when both your eyes meet.
"jesus, you suck cock like you've done it a thousand times before," he comments, because his own is still recovering.
you sucked his cock as if yunho wasn't your only sexual experience.
but you only smirk and shrug, replying mischievously, "i have my ways."
he doesn't have time to think about that right now, though. all he wanna do is be inside of you. fuck you into the mattress and make you feel so good, and he's glad you feel the same with how you're already wrapping your arms around him and pulling him down as your back hits the sheet.
he kisses your accepting lips once more before breaking it to ask you, "you ready?" to which you nod and already starts pushing at the hem of your own pants, san helping you when he catches on, thrusting it until it's off all the way with you kicking it onto the floor.
san catches the light pink lace panties you have on, smiling to himself not long before you also throw that off, now left in nothing but to feel the most naked you have ever been in the presence of someone else.
you can feel san's length brushing the inside of your thighs and it only makes you wanna speed up the process, telling him you're ready.
he creeps his fingers to your opening to prep you up, sticking two in and the wetness already coating him that instant while a low grunt escapes your lips.
he takes it out with a pop and you pant, watching as he gives it a once over on his tongue, clearing all residues off his fingers before gripping his cock for your entrance.
it's suddenly as if you've forgotten how to breathe while you just wait for that delicious and burning stretch, groaning when you feel the tip enter, already leaning your head back as you squint your eyes.
then instantaneously and surprisingly, san shoves in his entire cock, the loudest moan yet leaving you and shortly accompanied by a passionate, "shit!" your arms digging into his shoulders already as you try getting used to the feeling.
your collection of dildos and vibrators nothing compared to the real thing as your back arches when he starts moving.
he thinks you look so sexy like this. under him and taking his cock so well. he'll fuck you, and he'll fuck you good for all those times back then when you'd always say you'd never fuck him.
for all those times you'd hurl insults his way and act as if you don't even wanna be in the same room as him.
but he's going to fuck you good, too, because he wanna love you. he wanna be with you and show you the love he's capable of; hoping this is a start.
he buries his face into your neck while he fucks into you, getting grunts and moans in response and he doesn't stop until he feels himself about to come, removing himself from your neck and hair to see the pleasure overtaking your face; a light smirk on your lips and eyes rolled back.
"i'm gonna pull out, okay, baby?" he whispers into your ear that you nod to, placing a kiss to your cheek after and getting up, pulling out of you and leaving your inside so empty now that you've come to love the feeling.
he pumps his cock a few times before shooting his load onto your stomach, your gaze fixated on it before he grabs both your legs and hangs it over his shoulders, going on to scoot you closer with a grip of your waist.
you're not sure what he's gonna do until you feel his warm fingers rubbing over the entrance of your vagina.
"can't leave you hanging," he says simply, his middle finger especially running up and down, then he slowly enters it along with his index as the sensation comes back even if not as fulfilling as his cock.
he keeps thrusting until your wall closes in on his fingers and a look of euphoria crosses your expression, pulling out sloppily and throwing his body down next to yours while you're still trying to catch your breath.
"how are you feeling?" he asks, moving a strand of hair covering your eyes behind your ear.
"good," you answer. "and you?"
"the best i've been in a while."
you both enjoy the temporary silence with the occasional breathing of the other person, staring back at the each other for what feels like a long time and a smile on both your lips.
san finally sits up and blinks down at you, offering a hand.
"let's go get cleaned up, and make sure you pee."
a relationship with san isn't gonna come without problems and challenges, but you suppose love is all about giving it a chance and putting efforts into it, and you wanna put all you've got and see where this goes.
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a/n: welp, girls or boys... i am not happy with it but i'm glad it's over lol. (taglist gonna look mad weird bc it was being a bitch / apology to anyone who got tagged like twice. also removed lots of ppl who deactivated)
taglist: @freeandrealme @shingene @cherrychristie @softie00 @crimson-mia
@hexheathen @lixpixstix @atinytease @turtash @moonseonghwa
@justineasian @sannie-pudding @itsokaytobedumb00 @nerdy-kimchi
@fannyxmh @acciocriativity @mel-the-mad-hatter @diorwoo @devilsmatches
@kyume02 @distvrbia @wonwowzers @endeav0rsb1tch
@sannwa @brown88 @eburneon @hotteokhatyu @yeosangsbiceps
@sankatchu @harusoraa @ad0rechuu @woojirang @revehosh
@byunniebaekhyunnie @nabi-sannie @gugggu6gvai @rockstarsanie
@shakalakaboomboo
@yeosangsbbg @yawnzshit @avantalem @lelaleleb @mountiiny
@svintsandghosts @kkayfan @arinyyy
@nevieatiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad
@nescaffei @vixensss @santineez
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senmiyaazx · 2 days ago
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WAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH I HAD JUST PLAYED THE NEW UPDATE AND THE BAD ENDING KILLED ME. I WANT TO PUNCH A HOLE THROUGH MY COMPUTER BUT I CAN'T BECAUSE IT'S TOO EXPENSIVE 😭 I'LL NEVER LOOK AT AXES AND CROWE THE SAME EVER AGAIN
sorry for being overdramatic that ending really hurt me and i love crowe 😢
can you write crowe and reader's date after they got together in day 1? let's say Sol didn't find out when crowe and reader kissed so crowe gets to live (not for long tho)
i just wanted a peaceful love life with Jericho Ichabod 😭
CROWE X GN READER
spoilers for the update (bad ending)
a/n: an au where mc remembers all the saves they've done and knowing that they'll never be able to reciprocate crowe's feelings without putting him in danger would make pretty good angst ngl.
cw: slight angst (I'm sorry I couldn't help it). overall very fluffy. i think. reader is lowkey a simp.
bonus fanart at the end!
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He's so pretty it hurts. Pretty like the way his braided hair fell gracefully on his shoulders. Pretty like the ethereal glow that kissed his tan skin in the afternoon sun. Pretty, like his sapphire irises that gazed at you with such fondness that it made your heart ache.
Fuck. He's so beautiful and you're sure he's aware of it.
"(Name)? Are you okay?" He asks as if you'll ever be okay when he looks at you like that.
After that night— that one special night that might as well be one of your core memories. It was your first kiss. With Crowe. The guy you thought would never reciprocate your feelings. The man who liked you longer than you did.
Crowe.
And now, it's just you two in your comfort spot. The school garden. After that night he invited you here. For what? A date? Gee, is he trying to kill you or something?
It was already difficult enough to face him after.. well, the kiss. Now he decided to invite you to somewhere private. Just the two of you. Crowe and I.
It's weird thinking like that. It feels weird to put your name beside Crowe, even if you've discreetly written your name next to him with a heart multiple times on your notebook.
And yet you still called yourself a mere 'admirer'. How naive could you get?
Ah, well, it doesn't matter now. You sat next to him on the ground with your heart threatening to burst out of your chest, and you're stiffer than a damn wall.
Don't look at me like that. You think. Don't you dare give me that look. That concerned, caring face he always gave you when you're feeling incredibly warm and your heart is seconds away from going into cardiac arrest. Can you stop being so handsome?
"(Name)," Crowe repeats, bringing you back to reality. "Are you okay?"
You take a deep breath. Maybe you're being too dramatic, acting like a teenage girl with her first crush. Or maybe Crowe just has that effect on you. Can you really blame yourself? He's like a prince for fuck's sake. "Yeah. Don't worry."
His brows furrowed, unconvinced. "Loosen up a little, won't you? You act like we're strangers." His tone takes on a more playful one, hoping to lighten the mood. "We've known each other for a year.. yet you're still so nervous around me." He grinned. His hand reaches out to brush a stray hair away from your face, the warmth from his touch lingering. What a tease.
"Not my fault you're so handsome.." You crossed your arms with a huff. "Seriously. If being pretty was illegal you'd be a criminal." You weren't even aware of what you're saying at this point. You've gotten so comfortable with Crowe that you simply didn't care what you say in front of him.
He blinks, staring at you as you continued to mumble under your breath. Cute. He thinks. You're way too cute sometimes.
He leaned in closer, a teasing grin on his face. "You think I'm that pretty?"
You stop mumbling, turning to face him only to be jumpscared because of how close he was. "What the- Of course I do!" You lean away from him, cheeks warm. "And I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who thinks that way. Aren't you aware of the letters you received on Valentine's day?"
He smiled at this, backing away to give you space. "Of course I was." He paused, studying your figure with a warm gaze. "But you know I only had eyes for you on that day."
Your chest tingled, remembering the chocolate you gifted to him. You didn't expect he'd have a gift of his own for you too. Back then, you always thought he'd forget about you one day.
He never did.
"Corny." Yet you couldn't help the smile that crept to your lips, contrasting your words. He let out a chuckle at that to which you responded with a light punch to his shoulder.
A long silence settled comfortably between you two for a while. Simply basking in each other's presence, taking in the peaceful scenery with him. Despite the silence, it was enough for you. Being with him was enough.
And you couldn't help but voice it out loud. "I'm so glad to be with you."
He's caught off guard by that, but quickly regains his composure as he intertwined your fingers together with the softest smile you've ever seen.
"Me too."
Heavens, you love him. So damn much.
So please let this moment last forever.
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bonus cuz i love Crowe so much
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not the best art I've done but i really wanted to do this to give myself motivation to write:) and also i wanted an excuse to draw him even though i already have a w.i.p of him lol
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itsa-me-lily · 19 hours ago
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God I love this au, it's feeding me so good today. The last one with the part about only one bedroom has me thinking about a sick reader, the gross kind of sick where you're sweaty and wheezy and snotty, and the fact that if it were anyone else Simon would be quarantining them. But because it's his spouse, he wakes up to you nasally wheezing and mouth breathing while sprawled across him, and all he can think about is when you're due for your next round of medicine and if he needs to buy more tissues.
Sometimes love comes coated in mucus, and is reciprocated with an artificial cherry taste. Also do the guinea pigs have names and what do they look like?
I'm dying. This is the first ever ask I've ever gotten (that I recall) and I'm going to pass away. Also "sometimes love comes coated in mucus, and is reciprocated with an artificial cherry taste" that is such a good line, I'm apologizing in advance if I steal it.
Also warning for content of being sick, this is based off my last bout of plague.
Also Also Here's the Masterlist
Bedsharing in general does not happen at first. (Now I want to percolate an idea about sharing the bed for the first time). You're way to use to having your own bed that sharing with someone means you're not sleeping easily and I think Simon would rather sleep with the guinea pigs in their cage than have another human being that close to him when he sleeps. (This was also not something he initially thought about when being told a spouse was to be picked)
So what's the solution? Obviously bunk beds! Kind of, sorta...okay not really but the look on Simon's face when you had suggested getting bunk beds had been entertaining. Who knew so much indignation could come through a medical mask. Really his eyebrows did so much talking.
With the dream of bunkbeds dashed, the next best solution was either two twin beds crammed into the bedroom with a bedside's worth of space between them, or a pull out couch. You managed to find a couch same day that didn't terribly clash with the artwork you have yet to hang up.
You two actually manage to come up with a schedule for who slept where. Obviously you'd get the bed when Simon was deployed, made no sense for you not to. And when he was home the bed was all his unless he was having a night that he knew he wasn't going to trust a deadbolt to keep monsters at bay. Then he made himself comfortable, TV playing low until he managed a few hours in the early morning before you try to leave a silently as you can for work.
(Funny thing, even if you aren't sharing a bed traditionally, you both most certainly have your own sides, along with bed stands that told two different stories)
The first time you get sick is when Simon is technically deployed. Well actually, the day he returns is the day you spike a 101.8 fever and work forces you to go home so you don't become a walking petri dish and expose the college kids that come into your office.
Once you're home you appease the little beasts demanding some sort of vegetal boon, change into the rattiest clothes you have, and then huddle under a staggering amount of blankets that have made their home on your bed. (Simon may have side eyed them when you first set them out, but you've seen the mountain he creates under them, you knew the magic of weighted blankets)
Sleep isn't peaceful, you hadn't broken out the Nyquil quite yet, but you do manage to drift off for a few hours. And then the coughing starts. It's the kind that's a bitch to deal with, dry and pushing your ribs to the limit with how often they can expand and contract. By the time Simon comes home you've steamed yourself twice, taken only a smidge over the recommended amount of cough suppressant, and slathered yourself with Vic's Vaporub. All in all, you were properly miserable.
You're in the kitchen, staring into the abyss of your over-steeping tea as if it will magically make you feel better if you only sell your soul to it, really a tempting offer, when the wheeks of the pigs announce that another person they know has arrived.
If Simon wasn't clued in that something was off at seeing you home before the end of your work day, the pungent smell of menthol would have been a dead give away. You're still communing with your tea when he knocks against the wall, pulling you out of the deal for your soul to meet him with bleary eyes and a flushed face.
You croak out a greeting that makes Simon wince in sympathy, though that's about all he really does. Simon doesn't really do pleasantries and doting probably wouldn't be the first word people use to describe him, so with your brain function reduced by an overflow of mucus and fever, the kitchen was rather silent.
Until you started coughing, face buried into the crook of your elbow to try to keep your contagion to a minimum and back bowing to nearly double you over. That drives Simon to action, coming to try to keep you up incase you collapse, grabbing your free arm.
When you feel him touch you, you try to pull away, shaking your head and finally finishing your bout, gasping a little as you try to daunting task of breathing and speaking to dissuade him from getting close lest he catches what you have. He clearly wasn't persuaded, hands clenching and unclenching like he simply wanted to pick you up and put you...somewhere.
How exactly Simon Riley would take care of you, he didn't know but he'd be damned sure to at least try. He'd been left to fend for himself while sick before and he didn't like the idea of you going through that. When it was clear that he wasn't going to just leave you to your suffering you relented enough to try to reach a compromise; if he'd be alright watching the pigs while you were sick that would be more useful than a nursemaid while you camped out on the couch.
That...that was something Simon could do. He'd watched how you took care of the boys, surely this was something he could do. And then his brain caught up to the rest of what you had said. There was no way he was going to let you sleep on some pull out couch, as nice as it was. Being Sick meant sleeping in a proper bed, on a mattress that didn't spend it's days folded up.
You tried to insist it was alright but he wouldn't listen to a word of it. Instead he practically herded you back to the bedroom, ignoring your murmurs of your abandoned hot beverage. He didn't lift you to plop you onto the bed itself but it was a near thing. He had to bribe you with the promise of a proper cup of tea for you to even lay your head on your pillow, eyes already heavy with the need for sleep. By the time he had actually made a cup you were out for the count, nasally mucus filled snores letting him know you hadn't perished in the time it took him.
The next few days were filled with mucus, the attempted escape of your lungs via coughing fits, and more Vics than the human body should be exposed to. And the entire time you insisted that you could fend for yourself. Simon didn't push to play nurse, but your tissues never ran out, a dose of medication was always ready on your bedside, and a warm cup of tea stood waiting for you after each nap, like a solider committed to his guard.
Edit;
I'm going to make a separate post for the guinea pigs, because honestly I'm torn on if they're based on my guinea pigs I used to have, or guinea pigs I'd want to have in the future
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nyc-pizza-rat · 3 days ago
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saw @bloodydeanwinchester's tags on this post so
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*TW: SUICIDE IDEATION TYPICALLY DISCUSSED IN RELATION TO THIS EPISODE PLS TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES*
dean's always hated being stabbed. god, he'd have taken a bullet to his head over this any day. what's one last thing that doesn't go his way, he thinks.
it's uncomfortable, is the thing. the hurt, he'll take it. it's nothing he doesn't deserve, nothing he hasn't had before. but the feeling of metal slicing your innards, it's a bitch of a thing. you can never get used to it.
Atleast, he thinks, Sam's here. Atleast, he's able to say goodbye. Atleast he's not alone.
His nerves are all alight, pain painting him bright from the inside, but dean can feel the finality of this burst. it's all too fast and too slow, all at once. dean thinks about being four and the sharp sunlight waking him in his room, his sheets with hot wheels on them. he thinks about baby's headlights shining through thin motel curtains. thinks about....about angels and gods and all that blue light behind his own eyes. he thinks if this is how.. how cas felt, when dean had been stupid and cowardly , when he'd let Lucifer get to him, that night in Washington. he wonders if his soul feels like this too, all sharp angels and live current. he wonders what cas ever saw in him, why he ever tried to save him, even in hell. wishes he could see him, one last time. that wouldn't have been all that terrible.
Still, he thinks. Sam's here. Sam's here. Sam's okay.
he jolts into himself, and realizes that he's been talking, that he's been saying something to sam. he doesn't even know. dean is unraveling. he can feel his body emptying, the slickness of blood at his back.
he grabs at his brother, fists a hand in his chest. Sam's face is twisted in sorrow. Fuck. I love you, little guy, he thinks. then, fuck, don't let me go. i don't want to go. shit's never happened the way he wanted it to, but this is something else. Atleast. well, atleast he's gonna end up in the empty. that's what Billie promised him, right? Atleast he'll be with cas.
Still, Still. he's only human, and he's drowning in his own blood, can smell it, can taste it, it's everywhere, it's —
"I need you to.... to tell me... that it's okay," he says, and his voice comes out trembling, panicked. terrified. God. "I need you to tell me that it's okay."
his brother turns away from him, and dean can't hear him over the ringing in his ears, but he knows the stubborn bastard, the way his shoulders lift. God. God. Cas.
"Look at me," he pleads. "I need... I need..." he can't breathe. god, he can't breathe. "Please, Sam. I need you to tell me that it's okay."
Sam's face swims to the front of his line of sight, all warped like it's on the other side of a fishbowl. dean clutches at his brother harder. tries to, anyway. he's so tired. he's so fucking tired.
his fingers slip.
Something warm, and sam holds him in place.
"Dean...," and in another world, dean would've made fun of the blubbering mess he's become. would've teased him for caring so much about his stupid older brother. "it's okay. It's okay. i— I got you."
it's crazy, dean thinks, that it helps. the tone of his brother's voice. his face, even warped and cracking open with grief. dean raised this kid, and it was a bitch of a job, and man, did he hate it at times, but look at sam now. he did good. he did so good. he did —
dean goes under like he's being put to sleep. almost easy, almost soft. Thanks, he thinks, the last coherent thought in his head. Thanks, kid.
~
He wakes up on a road. The sun shines down bright like it's the start of summer, and there's this pleasant warmth in the air. the world around him is golden, stretching into the horizon on flat land where it meets the brown mounds of the black hills. dean blinks up at the mountains, a strange chill crawling down his spine.
"You're here early," a familiar voice says, and dean turns to find himself standing in front of Bobby's porch. light's drenched this whole place, too, making the wood panelling look blond. Bobby's fucking smiling. Shit. Shit.
dean's starting to feel disoriented, almost.
"And what's 'here' supposed to be, exactly?"
Bobby frowns, his smile slipping. he looks at dean like he's a right fool. "Heaven, dean," he says. "where else'd you think you'd go?"
dean thought.... Fuck. there's a strange emptiness pushing at the inside of dean's skin. he feels like he's been put together upside down. Billie.... Billie....
Billie's in the empty, and fuck. maybe grudges don't get passed down to the new death. fuck. fuck.
Dean stumbles to the porch steps, crumples on them when he can't go further. Absently, he's aware of Bobby moving behind him, the creaking of his rocking chair, his footsteps on the wood.
he stares out at the grass, the outline of the mountains, the clear blue sky. it's beautiful. it's nothing. it's empty. fuck. fuck. what the hell is dean supposed to do now. without — what the hell is he supposed to do?!
Bobby's hand is warm on his shoulder. dean feels small, the way he leans into it, the way he kinda wants to cry.
"what's wrong, dean?" Bobby asks, and his voice is all wrong , like he's tried to scrape the gruffness out of it and badly. dean could laugh. but. fuck. fuck.
why the hell is he here? why is he here?!
he swallows. shit's never really gone his way in life, so why would it in death? he swallows again. says, "i don't know, Bobby."
Me, he thinks. I'm what's wrong.
"i don't know."
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lilbitdepressed27 · 2 days ago
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Tara Carpenter/Fem!Reader All of Us Are Dead AU
Warnings: death angst blood
WC: 8.9k
Author's Note: no one asked, but I did it anyway. Sorry for any mistakes. Hope you guys enjoy, it's kinda long :)
"Oh come on!"
"Ah ha, I thought you said it was easy?"
"Ugh get off me."
You laughed at your best friend as you got off him and helped him up. You were on the football team along with your best friends and some of your other friends. You were the quarterback and a pretty damn good one for the university. It was your first year playing and you had already made such a great start, you started off as a sub. But when the starting quarterback started getting cocky and just being a jackass during the second game of the season. He was benched. And then you were sent in and since then Frankie had been benched. And he was not happy about it.
"Damn you move fast. You sure you wanna stay as a quarterback cause you'd be great on the defensive line." Chad said as smoothed out his sore bottom.
"It only helps when the quarterback doesn't know what he's doing." You nudged him with a smile on your face. "Now come on. Practice is over and we have to get cleaned up before we're late for class."
*
You and Chad had made your own way to the cafeteria where all your friends were at to get breakfast.
"Hey did you hear about the professors kid. You know the science professor." Chad said fixing his tie on his uniform.
"Huh? Oh yea. Apparently he committed suicide. Poor kid." You have seen the kid in question around. How he mostly kept to him self. Never bothering anyone. But there was always a group of boys who tormented the kid. You and Chad tried to put a stop to it. But it never worked.
"Don't even think that this is your or our fault Y/n. I mean, we did what we could. There's only so much someone can do. At the end of the day the person being bullied has to stand up for themselves. Cause if they don't, they become the easy target." Chad patted your back bringing you into a side hug. He knew how much you cared about people. He knew you since you two were in diapers. You had always had the protective mama bear in you. He and all your friends had always teased you about it.
Both of you arrived in the cafeteria seeing your group of friends sitting at the table in the corner. Your frown turned into a smile as soon you saw the small brunette. Tara Carpenter. You had met Tara when you were in middle school and have been in love ever since.
"Come on. I'm hungry you can ogle at Tara from up close." He teased pushing your towards the line. Seeing as breakfast hour was almost over there was hardly anything good. You would usually grab a fruit cup, apple and a protein bar with some apple juice on the side. "Damn. There's no more pop tarts."
You grabbed the last protein bar before Chad could get it and laughed when he was stuck with a banana.
"Whatever come on."
Tara looked up from her work, seeing you walking towards her. Her face brighten, her hand reaching for you as you grew closer, your much larger hand covered hers. It was a feeling Tara loved. How warm your hands were. They were always so warm, even in the winter.
"Hey. I got you your fruit cup and an apple." She handed you the food as you sat down next to her. Her heart racing as you directed a smile towards her. She knew that smile. The smile reserved only for her. Her face warming when you leaned into her and lightly kissed her cheek.
"Thanks Tar."
"You're welcome." She leaned into your side, embracing your warmth.
"Hey did anyone hear that the girl from home room went missing." Amber spoke from across the table.
"Which one Amber. There's like-"
Tara tuned out the conversation. Her focus was on you. How you silently ate your food but yet still paid attention to everyone else. How your hand stayed in hers. Your thumb softly creasing the back of her hand. She's never felt this deep about someone. The deep affection for you was something that scared her. It terrified her so much but yet she loved the feeling.
She loved you.
*
You had been trying to focus for a while now. But three classes already had you feeling so sleepy. It was just one more class before the lunch hour began. In this class you didn't share it with any of your friends. So you were alone.
You heard rumors about the girl that went missing was found in the science professors lab. You heard that he had been arrested and was taken away by police. You didn't take his class but Tara and most of your friends did. You would have never expected it from a teacher like him.
Right when the bell rang you were out of your seat and headed to the cafeteria.
"Run!!"
Students ran passed you, leaving you confused on what they were running from.
"Y/n run!!" Wes grabbed your hand as he ran passed you. Your eyes widen in shook when you saw what he was running from. Zombies?! You ran after him only to be tackled by one of the zombies.
"Y/N!"
The zombie was one of your teammates, was on top of you. Trying to bite you. You held him by his neck doing your best to keep him away from you but his arms swung wildly hitting you in the face. You tried to use your legs but it was like he was dead weight on you. His teeth grew closer to your neck making you scream in desperation.
Then the weight was off you, you gasped in relief as Wes helped you up. "Come on!"
The two of you ran dodging students and zombies.
"Wait where are the others?!" You yelled. He looked back at you with a remorseful look. "Wesley where are the others."
"I don't know. I think they were in the cafeteria. I don't know. I didn't get a chance to get there before they attacked. Come on."
You had no choice but to follow him. Passing students that were being attacked. Rushing up the stairs only to get hit with what felt like a ton of bricks. Falling hard to the floor your vision going a little blurry. You felt yourself being picked up and lead into a classroom. The door shut behind you as you leaned on the wall. You touched you head and felt something wet. Pulling your hand down and seeing blood on your finger tips.
You barely had a chance to gather yourself when a shorter body slammed into you.
"Thank god you're okay. Everything happened so quickly. I tried to go find you but Chad wouldn't let me go. I was so scared something happened to you." Tara mumbled into your neck as her arms tighten around your waist. The moment that chaos started she along with her friend had been in cafeteria. If it weren't for Amber, she probably would have died when she had frozen in fear when she fell.
"It's okay Tara I'm fine. Chad did the right thing. It's too crazy out there. Let me see you." Cupping her cheeks in your palms you pulled her away enough where you could look down at her and make sure she was okay. You caught the moment she saw the cut on your temple. Her eyes widen as she reached up her hand taking a hold of your chin as she turned your head to the side.
"Come on. I think there's a first aid kit in the professors desk."
Sitting down on the professors chair she got to work on cleaning your cut up and covering it with a bandaid. As she was cleaning you up you saw a small bandage around her wrist that wasn't there in the morning. You took a hold of her hand to take a better look.
"What happened to your wrist?" You looked up at her, she had stood between your legs as she cleaned you up.
"The girl that went missing was in professor Smiths class. She had been attacked by him and had escaped this morning. And wondered in to professor Prescott's class. She seemed confused and erratic when we took her to the nurses office. She attacked the nurse and scratched me. But I'm okay." She reassured you hoping to ease your worries.
"Okay." You nodded trying to calm your racing heart. You could still hear the screaming coming from outside the classroom. You looked around the room seeing most of your friends. Chad, Mindy, Amber, Anika, Wes, Ethan, Quinn, and Liv. Also two other students, Jason and Greg.
"Sam?" You knew she had gone away with her archery team. They had a competition today but she had said that they'd be back by lunch. Her boyfriend Danny was with her, he was on the team as well.
"No. I haven't seen her. But she's Sam. I'm sure she's fine. Right? She's got to be." She started breathing heavily and you had to calm her down before she had an asthma attack. You always had an inhaler with you.
"Hey, Tara look at me. I'm sure she's okay. I mean your sister is a badass. Don't tell her I said that though, her ego is big enough." The shorter brunette let out a small laugh knowing it was very true. "She's okay. I promise you that."
"So what are we going to do? I mean we all saw the same thing right? Those were zombies. I mean they remind me of the zombies from the movie Train to Busan." Mindy said from standing next to the window that looked out to the track and field. Her girlfriend Anika was standing right next to her. Still shaking in fear.
"Zombies? Seriously Mindy. You watch way too many movies." Quinn moved towards the window to see the caos that was happening outside.
"She's not wrong. They act like zombies. I saw Richie get bit and he turned in like a few seconds." Wes said from his spot next to the door. He had pushed a small cabinet up against the door. Hoping to make sure that no one would get in.
"So what do we do. Wait for help to arrive? We don't know how long that'll take." Ethan stood up from sitting next to Wes. He walked up to you, giving you a once over. "Glad you're okay." He patted your shoulder. You offered him a small smile and nod. Ethan had also been a close friend of yours. Him, Chad, Wes and yourself were on the team and great friends.
"We could wait it out. It won't be long till the cops show up. I mean it's basically a riot on school grounds. Anyone have their phones? I left mine in my bag in the cafeteria." Anika asked as she searched for her phone only to come up empty handed.
"I dropped mine when I got tackled. Tar do you have your phone." You turned your attention to short brunette still standing between your legs. She dug in her pocket and took it out. You looked down at her phone to see a picture of you. You were in your football uniform except the helmet. You were smiling big in the picture holding a bouquet of flowers and a small teddy bear close to your chest. You remember that day clearly. You had won your first game that you played as the starting quarterback. Tara had bought the gifts knowing very well you were going to win. She had captured your cheesy smile that she loved so much and made it her locksceen.
You smiled up at her, she tried to hide her blush but smiled regardless. She dialed 911, bringing the phone up to her ear. You watched as she spoke to the dispatcher. The officer seemed not to believe her but never the less said they'd send officers to the school.
"I'm going to call Sam. Hopefully she answers." It was quiet, well as quiet as a zombie filled university could be. You stood up from the chair and let Tara sit in it. "Nothing. She's not answering." She bit her bottom lip, a nervous habit she had. Her hands playing with her phone. You took the phone from her hands putting it on the desk, then taking her hands in yours. Bringing her down on your lap.
"Hey, she'll be okay. She's with Danny and she's strong. She'll be alright." You spoke softly to her, gently squeezing her hands. "Look at me." When her eyes met yours, you smiled softly she returned the small smile. Eyes still filled with worry. "She'll be alright. I need you to focus on yourself right now. Okay? Take a deep breath for me baby." Even though you had her spare inhaler with you. You didn't want her to over work herself.
She followed your directions with no complaints. Once she had her breathing in check she looked down at you and leaned down. Softly kissing your lips. She didn't know what she'd do if she lost you.
*
"Well how crazy was it in the cafeteria?" You asked Chad. Tara, Liv Mindy, Anika, Amber and Quinn were sitting at the corner furthest away from the door. The door was blocked but to be on the safer side. Chad, Wes, Ethan and yourself stood by the window of the second floor building.
"Got too crazy way too fast. How the hell did this even happen? I mean, the girl that went missing was-" The group of teenagers were stoped at the sudden noise of the door being pushed open. The small cabinet moved from the force of the door opening. The girls scrambled to their feet at the sight of the P.E teacher who was also your coach breathing heavily as he closed the door. He looked frantically around the room eyes landing at the group of kids.
"Coach were you bit?" You asked as you took a step forward a hand shooting out and grabbing the back of your shirt. Wes stood behind you, holding your jacket, once he realized that you wouldn't get closer to the coach he let your jacket go.
"No I wasn't bit. Let's let's block the door. We need to secure it. Make sure they don't get in. Come on."
Everyone moved to block the door, as you moved to do what the coach said when a hand held your wrist. You turned back to see Tara. "What's wrong?" Asking as you turned to be directly in front of her.
"Look at his arm. There."
You turned back to look at the teacher. The sleeve of his jacket was rolled up. But there, you saw blood on his wrist. The teeth marks. You knew he'd be turning at any moment know.
"Coach your arm-What are you on about Y/ln come and help. Or I'll bench you and let Frankie back in." He spoke angrily but his eyes filled with fear and denial.
"Y/n what are you doing he said he wasn't bit." Jason said as he stopped his movements from barricading the door.
"He has a bite mark on his arm." You argued with your coach. You felt bad but he was putting your friends, Tara in danger. You knew it wouldn't be long once he turned. "You need to leave."
He scoffed, "You want me to go out there? After all I did to get here."
"Get out, right now. You were bitten and it's putting all of us in danger." Tara fired back, your arm reaching for her and pushing her behind you.
"Listen here you fucking-" He gasped at the feeling of blood coming out of his nose. The coach looked at you as he fell to the ground, his body convulsing.
You stepped back pulling Tara with you. You could only watch as your coach turned into a zombie.
"Get him out of here!" Greg yelped, the zombie looked his way and launched towards him.
The second they were all frozen in fear, it was all it took for the zombie to go for the bite. You reacted first, running forward.
"Y/n no!"
You pulled the coach off Greg, throwing him to side. You picked up a book and hit him with it, making him fall back. "We need to get outta here!"
"Come on!" Chad ran towards the door pulling the desks and cabinets out of the way with the help of Ethan and Wes. The girls followed close behind them. Tara grabbing you by the hand, pulling you behind her as you and your friends ran down the hall. Leaving the coach and Greg behind.
"Where are we going?!" Amber yelled as she swung the handle of a paper guillotine she broke off.
"The science lab!" Chad yelled back. He had a leg of a wooden chair swinging the stick pushing the zombie off Ethan.
You had been thrusted a chair leg by Chad as you were pulled down the hall. Amber and Mindy had pulled Tara from you as you helped the boys push back the zombies from getting to them. They all ran upstairs trying to get to the science lab.
"Y/n hurry!" You heard Tara yell from behind you. You looked behind you to see her, her arm being held by Amber.
"Go! Open the door for the science lab! I'll be right behind you!" You grunted at the force from the pushing. You spared a glance back at Tara, she was being pulled by Amber and Mindy. You swung the chair leg at one of the zombies. Feeling your heart beating in your ears when you realized the way to your friends was being blocked by zombies. There was no way for you to get through them.
Having no choice but to hide in another room.
*
The door was slammed shut. All the guys moving to push something in order to make sure the zombies didn't push through. The brunette looking frantically around for you. But you were hard to miss. In any crowded room she'd always find you. Like her eyes were magnets, always connecting with yours.
"Where's Y/n?"
Wes snapped his head up. You were right behind him. He heard you shout that you were right behind them.
Tara didn't think, didn't wait for anyone to say anything before she was at the door trying to move the stuff blocking the door. She needed to get to you. Make sure you were okay.
"Tara, Tara you can't go out there." Amber was the one to stop her. Feeling the shorter girls shoulder shaking.
"Please Amber, I have to make sure she's okay. She has to be okay. I can't lose her." Tara let the sob out, you were right behind her. Telling her that you were right behind her. She knew she should have stayed with you. Feeling like the walls were closing in on her as she cried into Amber's shoulder.
Amber swallowed the lump in her throat. Seeing what her best friend and you had was something she could only wish for. Seeing the relationship blossom from such a young age was something everyone wanted. That true love. Knowing that if something were to happen to either of you, the other would be lost with out them.
"Come on Tara. Breath. Y/n is one of the strongest and most athletic person I know. Not to mention she's too stubborn when it comes to getting to you." Amber spoke gently to the shorter girl, leading Tara away from the door towards the window.
Everyone else looked back out the small window on the door, afraid that they'd see their friend as one of the zombies
*
You had ran into the art room, running straight to the desk with the little seconds you had before the zombies came running in. Staying at quiet as you could as you heard the footsteps and groaning coming closer. You needed to find a way out of the class and back to Tara.
*
"She'll be okay, you have to believe that she will." Amber looked out the window, looking at what was once a field filled with joy now filled with groans of students that she once knew. She felt Tara's warm hand taking hers. Tara had been her friend for the longest time. She felt tears build up in her eyes as she failed to look at Tara. She knew what was going to happen. She could feel it inside her. And she was scared.
"Amber, your hand, it's co-" Tara felt the dread wash over her like a cold bucket of water being poured over her head at what it meant. Amber was cold to the touch, her best friend always had cold hands. It was nothing new. But this type of coldness was new. Her eyes connecting to the eyes that were once brown. Were now red.
"Amber?" Quinn stood up, looking at the shorter girl. She stepped closer, her eyes also filling with tears. She couldn't lose another friend. Especially not Amber. Not when she hasn't told her how she felt. She looked at Tara who was yet to look away from Amber. When Amber turned around she felt her heart shatter at the sight of the nose bleed. She knew what that meant.
"It's okay Quinn. It's okay." Amber looked at the taller girl. She hated herself for not telling the girl how she felt. For waiting too long. From the moment she first saw Quinn. She shouldn't have let the chance go. But now. Now it was too late. She didn't want to do this to Quinn but she knew she had no control of what was going to happen next. Her gaze turned to the Quinn's brother.
Ethan stood behind Quinn, ready to protect Quinn and Tara when it came down to it. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before the Amber they knew was gone. He looked into Amber's eyes. The unspoken words in her eyes. He nodded. He knew what that look meant. He saw the small glimpse of relief in her eyes and her shoulders before the look was gone replaced with pain.
"I love you Quinn."
Quinn let out a sob, she was losing Amber. The smart witted girl that had stolen her heart with snarky remarks. Moving forward to get closer to Amber. Only to be held back by her brother.
"Get her the fuck outta here. Do something!"
Everyone ignored Jason as they watched Amber fall to the floor. The cocky, witty, Amber was gone. Replaced by a raging, flesh eating monster.
*
You peaked from the corner of the desk. There was a few zombies in the class. All gathered around the entrance of the class. There was no way you were getting out through that. You weren't sure what to do. Or how to do it. You looked around hoping to find a way back to Tara and your friends. The only way out would be through the windows, you had no other choice.
You were quick to move, throwing what you can to keep, the zombies away from you. You tried not to look down, the science lab was a level up. You weren't so sure if you'd be able to climb up.
Your foot slipping on the ledge making your heart jump to your throat "Oh shit."
You shuffled on the side, trying to figure out, how you could climb up. When you saw Wesley on what you assumed to be a water hose. You watched as he struggled to kick off the zombie off his foot. "Holy shit Wes, hold on I'm coming to you."
"Y/n? You're alive!" He smiled momentarily forgetting the situation he was in. The happiness he felt was quick to wash away at the pull of his leg. He couldn't get a good grip on the hose.
"I'm going to you. Just hold on." You weren't sure how you'd get to Wes.
"Y/n, look up."
You looked up, eyes widening at seeing a bloody face of a zombie, this time without a moment of hesitation. You leaped towards Wesley. Your heart jumping towards your throat as you free fell for a second before your arms wrapped themselves around Wes.
You were quick to kick off the zombie that held on to Wesley's foot.
"Ugh thanks. Now get off me, go down to the broadcasting room."
"What? I thought you liked my hugs." You smiled as you moved further down on the hose. Carefully going through the window.
"Y/n? Holy shit dude I thought you were dead." Ethan was quick to pull you in a tight hug. You hugged him back. He was quick to pull away, right when a familiar sob rang through the room. You looked ahead seeing Tara, her eyes red filled with tears.
You felt her body shaking as she fell into your arms. Her arms had wrapped around your waist in a tight hold as she cried into your chest. You held her closer looking at everyone around the room. You knew she was most likely worried about you. But hearing her cry like this was concerning. The more you looked around, you realized someone was missing.
Amber. Amber wasn't in the room.
With a regretful nod, Wes confirmed your thoughts. Your eyes falling to Quinn who was also crying. Your heart ached at the look on her face. You had tried hard to get Amber and Quinn together but they both were too scared of rejection.
Your eyes filled with tears. Tara had lost her best friend, your friend. Amber had been the first one to know about your feelings towards Tara. Amber had been the one to push the both of you together.
And Quinn lost someone who could have been the love of her life.
Amber was gone.
*
"Hey, talk to me." You whispered, you were sat at the corner of the room with Tara sitting in between your legs. She was leaned back into your chest. Her head resting in your neck. You could hear her faint whizzing. She had cried herself into an asthma attack.
"I-I thought you were gone. Her...Amber's- her hands were so cold. Her hands have always been cold. But they were freezing...She's gone. Amber's gone."
She began to cry softly, you brought her closer softly rubbing her back. Hoping to give her a bit comfort. But you knew you could only do so much. Amber was like another sister to Tara.
"I'm sorry Tara." It was all you could say. There was nothing that could comfort Tara at the moment. She had just lost someone that was like a sister to her. You hated thinking what Amber could have felt. How scared she must of felt. For Amber to go through that it made you want to cry.
"He's bleeding, he's infected. We have to throw him out."
You were brought out of your thoughts to see Jason pointing a finger at Wes. You and Tara both stood up looking at Wes to see his nose was bleeding.
"Oh I slammed my face on the wall when I had to jump out the science lab window." He wiped his nose with his vest, that he had taken off.
"No. You're going to turn into one of those things. He's putting all of us in danger. Greg, Coach Loomis, Amber. They all started showing signs of infection with a nose bleed." Jason argued. "Look at his fucking hand-"
"Stop." You pushed Jason away from Wes. You did not want to believe your best friend was going to change into one of those things. You stood in-front of Wes taking his hand in yours. You saw the scratches on his fist. They didn't look too deep. But you weren't sure if he'd turn. Everyone you saw turn, they had been bitten.
"It's just a scratch." You stepped beside him looking back at your friends. "He'll be fine."
"Oh you're one to talk. Profesor Prescott. You have to do something about it." Jason argued, he wasn't going to let this infected be in the room. Putting him in danger.
"Wesley. How about you go into the soundproof room and wait it out. Make sure you're not infected. Just a safety precaution." Sidney truly still couldn't wrap her head around what was happening. The fear she felt was something she has never felt. But she knew she had to stay control and hopefully keep her kids safe.
"But Profesor Prescott-Please Wesley. We can't be too careful."
With a huff he walked into the soundproof room. The door shutting behind him. You watched as he sat down on a chair. You really hoped he didn't turn. You couldn't lose any more friends.
*
"Well times up. I think Jason here owes Wes an apology." Chad spoke his arms crossed as he stood straight looking down at the boy in question.
"What? Yea right. I'm not apologizing to him. Why the fuck would I?" Jason crossed his arms in anger. Hating the way everyone in the room was looking at him.
"Dude, just own up that you were wrong." Ethan said from his spot, he had been trying to comfort his sister. There was times he had thought that Quinn would have gotten together with Amber. He had high hopes for his sister. But now she looked heartbroken and he couldn't blame her. Amber was a big part of the group.
"Yes Jason please go apologize to Wesley."
With even the teacher gaining up him. He had no choice but to go into the room. A dark thought crossing his mind. Once he would follow through. The consequences not being enough to stop him.
Everything happened so quickly. He was fine. Then the next his nose was bleeding with her being blood red. Tara stood behind you, knowing very well what you were going through. You were losing your best friend and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it. Only being able to watch as Wesley changed into one of the monsters as well.
*
The group was losing more friends than they had been prepared for. First Amber and now Wesley. You had stood next to the window for the longest time. You Chad and Ethan had to push Wesley out of the window. Trying hard to avoid getting bit by your once called best friend. He had been your first friend, back in preschool. He had been the one to name you his best friend.
And now he was gone.
"We have to find a way outta of here." Your gaze was on the world outside. You had lost sight of Wes the moment he got up from falling from the third floor window. Tara stood by your side her grip on your hand never wavering.
"How? Out there, it's too crazy and too risky." Chad spoke from his spot in the floor. He knew that help would take too long for it to arrive. With how dark and chaotic it looked from the room window. He knew that help could take up to hours if not days.
"The front is not an option. But the through the back. The construction sight we could use that route and head through the woods." You needed to get your friends out of this school. Staying here was clearly not an option.
"Okay, how do we get through those zombies?" Ethan spoke from his spot between his sister and Chad. He saw the familiar crinkle form in between your eyebrows as you thought of something. He watched you, the sadness and the complete refusal of acceptance of Wes being gone was still in your eyes.
"Zombie guts?"
"What?" Everyone turned their gaze to Mindy.
Mindy shrugged, "don't look at me like that. Haven't you guys watched the Walking Dead or any other zombie related movie. We all established that these things are zombies. So there for we use zombie guts to hide are humanly odor with flesh and get the fuck outta here." She stood up, her hand held out to help Anika up.
"Alright, it's not like we have other options. how do we get one of those things in here?" Anika asked, she was scared. Scared for what was going come. Especially if this idea became something they actually did. They already lost Amber and now Wes.
The professor in the room stayed quiet, what had just happened was something she was surely she'd never forget. Wes, Judy's son. He had been the sweet boy one second and replaced by a flesh eating monster. The change had been quick. She didn't know what or how she'd tell Judy. Judy loved her boy, he had always been her pride and joy. To have that taken from her, Sidney couldn't even imagine what that felt like.
"There's plenty of st-bodies in the hall." Sidney finally found her voice. She felt guilty for even saying it but if it meant saving at least these kids, well she had to try.
*
It took a day of no rescue for the others to actually go through with the plan. The day had been spent going back up to the tech room. Retrieving a drone to look for any survivors. With no luck on the drone it had made the original plan more cemented in everyone's mind.
"We should still use something to distract those things." Sidney said as they had successfully dragged two dead zombie student bodies into the room. She could see how your bloody hand shook as you put down the blade. Ethan and Chad had helped you drag the two unrecognizable kids into the room.
"The intercoms you use for morning announcements?"
"Okay Anika come and help me."
While Anika and professor Prescott worked on that. You stayed looking down at the blood on your hands. You had just killed two students. Two students that were no longer themselves but yet you did it. The parents of said kids would never get the chance to see them again. And now, now you were planning to cut them open. Like pigs, all in the name of survival. What you were about to do, you weren't even sure if it'd work. But it had to. You and your friends couldn't last another day in this school.
Soft hands cupped your cheeks, lifting your gaze away from your hands. "Hey, look at me." Dark brown eyes looked back into yours. "Stay with me." Her words rang in your ears. Your racing thoughts come to a halt, you need to get Tara out of this school. Some where safe.
"It's ready." 
Now all that was to be done was to butcher these kids, before you could even pick up the blade someone else took picked it up.
"You've done enough, I got this." Ethan said giving you no chance before he took a deep breath and you flinched at the sound of bones breaking. You looked away, your eyes finding Tara who was by the window. You knew she was worried for her sister.
"Wait, Professor? How do I use the intercom's?" You asked while Ethan helped cover the others in blood.
"Just push down on this button to speak, okay go ahead."
"Sam if you can hear this, it's Y/n, we are going towards the construction sight. Please try to meet us there."
*
The walk was tense. Everyone in the group falling in a close line. Tara standing right behind you. The halls had a few stragglers, but they paid no mind to you or the others. Those things, too occupied with the morning positive announcements. From what you could see the plan was working. Thing that worried you was that said announcements were only thirty minutes long. And it's been twenty at most minutes that have passed since you all stepped out of the broadcasting room.
"We have to hurry."
Your head snapped back at Jason. The look was harsh, as the deal was to not talk and make unnecessary noise. But the damage was already done. The zombie that was closest to him had growled in his direction, it was enough for him to get out of line stumbling on a dead body, making him crash on to the floor. The yells of the zombies as the scream that left his lips was enough to draw in more.
Some bumped into you but paid you no mind you had taken Tara in your arms the moment he had fallen out of line. You couldn't do anything without putting the others at risk. So you took a quiet step back. Leading the others away.
It was too late for him anyway.
*
The plan was going too smoothly. You were only minutes away from entering the construction site. When the rain came followed by loud thunder. You breath hitched at the meaning. The smell of dead would wash away. Leaving you and your friends exposed.
"Run."
The panic washed over everybody, the pace picked up and the rain fell harder. The sound of infected roared as the picked up the scent of human flesh. The group cutting through the open field to get to the closest construction area. Running into the building.
"Get down!"
The group of teens didn't hesitate as they dropped to the floor. The faint noise of arrows flying by. The sound of the dead dropping and staying down. You had covered Tara with your body. When the only thing that could now be heard was the sound of rain and thunder. You looked up eyes connecting with familiar brown eyes.
With a chocked laugh you got up, helping Tara up. Tara only had a second until she realized who was in front of her. "Sam." The hug between the two sisters was a moment you felt like you needed. The relief in Tara's shoulder was noticeable. Sam looked at you and the group. Eyes furrowing, you felt like you knew what she was thinking. Shaking your head slightly, her eyes filled with remorse and slight tears.
"We have to get off school grounds. It's too crazy here." Danny said after retrieving the arrows. "I was able to talk with my dad before the phone lines stopped working. People were able to evacuate to the town over. The city is blocked by the military, so we have to go to one those checkpoints and hope they don't shoot first."
If the military was able to evacuate some people you knew that if the school grounds were crazy, the city was most likely worse. With a sigh of what you and the others will most likely go through. Getting to the construction sight had been hard and almost seemed too difficult. But now having to just go into the city, now that was impossible.
*
"Okay guys just stay close okay. Everyone has a weapon right?" Danny asked as he loaded his own bow with an arrow. His gaze falling on you. He could see how much it hurt to lose Wes. He had been more like brother to you and he knew how much you cherished the friendship with Wes. He also knew that Tara was hurting. Amber was also like sister to Tara. Being there when Sam couldn't.
"Okay. I'll be in the front, arrows in the front clearing a path. Y/n, Chad, Ethan think you two can handle the back?" Danny asked getting nods in response. "Everyone else try to stay in the middle don't get separated. Alright let's go."
*
He felt cold, confused, hungry? He felt really hungry. The hall floor was hard and wet, but the more he became aware the more he realized that it was blood on his clothes. His blood.
The memories came flooding back in, the feeling of being eaten alive. He remembered all those bites, he felt those bites before his world went black.
You.
You had left him there to die. Not even moving to help.
He'd make you pay.
*
Tara kept looking back at your direction, she didn't like that you were in the back. She was thankful to know that her sister was alive and not one of those things. Yet she still feared what could happen. They had successfully made it out of the school. Cutting through the back woods. The woods had been thankfully deserted with no infected in sight.
With Sam in front of her along side Danny, the walk was quiet, tense. She was afraid that the smallest noise would bring those things down on them.
She had to believe, or at least hope that everything would be okay.
*
You breathed heavily as you pushed your back onto the door. The dead pushing their own weight to get the door to open. "Fuck! Get something to block the door!" Chad and Ethan helped you with the door. While the rest helped with pushing a big cabinet. Your body pushed forward from the force of the door trying to he pushed open.
"Guys hurry up!" "Move!" The big cabinet fell in front of the door blocking the infected from getting in.
"Man that was intense, everyone okay?" You slumped back into a wall, everyone responded with a confirmation. "Come let's get away from the doors and windows."
Once everyone was in a more secluded area with less windows, you turned and checked over Tara. "You okay? No bites? Do you need your inhaler?" Hands stopping their movements on her cheeks.
"I'm fine. Come on let's rest." The day had been a long one. From moving discreetly and not so discreetly the group had to take refuge in a restaurant. The moment you had a chance you took Tara into your arms. Thankful to have her safely in your embrace.
With most of the electricity being out in the city the streets were dark and if not almost impossible to see in the dark. So you had to find shelter and having to move when the sun was out. The rest was well deserved, with everyone running low on energy. The group had taken shelter in a room furthest from the front door. But it had a window just in case of needed to get out of there quickly.
~
Tara had been asleep on your chest, she felt so exhausted, hungry. It was still dark out, so she wasn't sure what woke her up. You were still asleep, your chest rising and falling in a calming way. Your face was relaxed for the first time since this whole thing started. As she traced your facial features with her eyes, the glow of the moon was enough for her to see your face. She heard a noise. A noise that she was certain was what woke her up.
The door leading down to the empty hall way was closed and barricaded with a desk. Everyone had fallen asleep. As she moved to get up your arm wrapped around her waist tightened.
"Where are you going?" Your voice came out as a whisper. You had always been a light sleeper.
"I heard something." She whispered back. You were now wide awake as you sat up with her. She watched as you stepped silently towards the door, she moved behind you, refusing to let you go alone.
You only moved the desk a few inches. Enough to only crack open the door, only to get a peak outside. The noise was heard again. But you couldn't see anything, the halls were dark. The moon light only casted so much light. The noise got closer and closer until you saw two eyes looking up you. The breath you didn't even know you were holding was let out.
Meow.
The cat used the small gab you left open. To get in. The black cat rubbing against your leg.
"Oh it's a kitty." Tara gushed as she pointed the light from her phone on the cat. You chuckled and quietly moved to shut the door.
You didn't see it coming. You had been so focused on Tara's smile as she the cat in her arms. The force of the push had been so unexpected, the force throwing you back. Your eyes widen in disbelief at who stood there. Covered in blood and bloody snarl on his lips.
"You left me. You left me to die."
"Jason."
Everyone was now awake. You could feel the tension, and the guilt you felt washed in.
"Feeling guilty?" His twitching was noticeable. You couldn't wrap your mind around that fact that he was still alive.
"Yeah, I felt guilty too...when I infected Wesley. But then I remembered what he did to me. Then it went away."
Your ears felt like they were ringing, his word repeating in your mind. Wes was fine till Jason went in that room to apologize. Jason killed Wes. He killed your best friend. You acted before really thinking.
"Y/n!"
Your fists connected with his face. The rage and fury you felt washed over. It angered you further that he was laughing. The rage grew and the punches became more intense.
Arms wrapped around you as they tried to pull you off. The arms of Ethan and Chad pulling you off there hold on you tight.
"You'll all die."
The sounds of groaning and screams filled the hall. Everyone sharing a look as they all moved to shut the door. Jason laid on the floor as he continued to laugh loudly. Drawing the attention of the infected. You wasted no time to grab him once again throwing him out the window.
"Fuck, out the window." Anika moved towards the broken window. Seeing Jason no longer where he landed. She was scared. Scared on what that could mean. He had turned but he wasn't like the rest. He was still conscious of his actions.
The sun just barely coming out casting a light into the room. Your hands still shook, the anger you still had was still there just now accompanied by some overwhelming regret.
"We have to move!! They're breaking through the door!" Danny yelled as he along with Chad, Ethan, Mindy and Sam tried to hold the desk in place.
Tara was quick to cup your cheeks breaking you out of your spiral. "Baby come on we have to go. Stay with me." Your eyes held so much and she couldn't even comprehend what you were thinking.
"Go with Anika, Sam go down with them. Make sure the way is clear for the rest of us to go down." Taking Tara's hands in your giving them a what you could only hope was a comforting squeeze. "Go with them. I'll be right behind you."
Tara heard you say that once and she lost you for second. This time she didn't listen. She moved to help you with the desk. "Ta-No, I'm not leaving you again. Mindy go. Then Ethan and Chad. I'll go with you. The window is big enough for the both of to jump out of."
Quickly they cleared the room. The door giving out the moment you and Tara rushed forward. The quickness of how you both went out the window falling into a dumpster.
"We have to move! Come on." You took Tara's hand and rushed down the alley. The same alley that was once mostly empty of infected was now filled with them. In the center was Jason. A smug smirk on his face.
"RUN!!"
*
Tara had always been light, with your work outs and constant sports you played you were in great shape. So when you felt Tara slowing down. You didn't even need to look at her when you picked her up. Her arms and legs wrapping around you tightly. Her shortness in breath had you worried and you knew she needed her inhaler.
"The bus! Get on the bus!" Sam yelled her pace picking up as she reached the bus getting the door open, thanking what ever god was up there that the keys were in the key was in the ignition.
You had been the last one to reach the bus. Only a step in when you felt a sharp pain on your forearm looking behind you to see Jason before an arrow was shot right in between his eyes. His limp body falling to the floor, unmoving.
The bus moved forward as the doors closed. The infected crashing into the side of the bus.
You focused on tara whose breathing was becoming more dangerously labored. You sat her down on one of the seats digging in your pocket to take out the inhaler. "Come baby, use this. Breathe in. I got you." You spoke softly in her ear. The inhaler brought up to her lips. "Nice and easy. That's my girl." It took a few more minutes for her breathing to return to a somewhat normal rhythm.
*
"Okay I think we lost them." Mindy spoke up as stood by Sam who had been driving. The roads were empty of infected, abandoned cars were on the streets but the bus was strong enough to move the cars out of the way.
Everything was a bit muffled for you. All you could think about now was the bite on your forearm that was covered by your long sleeve shirt. You weren't sure at first if you were going to turn seeing as Jason was still, alive? But as the minutes passed and the hour grew closer. You felt yourself growing lighter, weaker. You had to tell them.
Tara was resting her head on your chest as you leaned your back on the window. The cat on her lap also resting. Everyone was so unaware of what was happening.
"Sam stop the bus."
"What?" She looked back at you and then back at the road. It was an open field now the city behind as you were the check point wouldn't be too far now.
"What's wrong?" Tara pulled away from your chest to look at you. Her eyes searching for why you would want Sam to stop the bus. But you didn't meet her eyes. Instead you stood up as the bus stopped. Her hand reaching to take a hold of yours.  Her breath hitching and the chill rolling down her body at the feeling of your cold hands.
"No." It came out so small, denying what it meant. You were probably just cold. Your hands got cold sometimes.
Your eyes filled with tears. You pulled back afraid of what was to come. You didn't want to hurt anyone. Especially not Tara.
Chad moved to stand behind Tara, confused what was wrong. "What's going on?"
You took another step back towards the doors. Tara refused to look away from you as her eyes filled with more tears, her lip quivering as she refused to believe what was happening.
"Y/n?" Ethan asked standing by Chad. His hand reaching for Chad's.
The lump in your grew bigger as everyone's eyes were now on you. your eyes finally meeting Tara's, the pure anguish and refusal to accept what was to come.
"Jason bit me, I wasn't sure if it was going to happen. But I am turning. I—I can fe—el it." The tears that blurred your vision finally fell. The feeling of you losing the control of your mind was a lot more, than you had expected.
"Da—nny shoot me."
"What?" Danny's voice cracked as he took you in. Your hands were shaking blood starting to roll down your noise.
"No!" The whizzing got worse as Tara rushed to get to you but was stopped by Sam. She tried hard to get out of her sisters hold but Sam had always been strong.
"D—on't want to....be one of th—ose things." You could feel the blood rolling down your noise. Your vision coming and going. Your knees growing weaker as you crumbled down to the floor. "Da—nny please."
Danny looked at Sam who was also crying trying to comfort her younger sister. Her brown eyes filled with uncertainty.
You tried to get back up wanting to get out of the bus.
Tara couldn't let you go. She couldn't, seeing your once y/ec eyes were now covered in a bloody red color. She cried out your name, desperately trying to get to you. "Sam please. There could be a cure. We just have to get her to one of the camps." Ignoring all the signs of the infection taking over.
"D—anny!" Your voice came out once more. More desperately. You had stood back up red veins noticeable on your face. Danny loaded his arrow hands shaking as he aimed it at you. You were no longer you.
"I'm sorry." The arrow went fast, and you dropped even faster. Your body laying thee no longer twitching, no longer moving. The arrow went directly into your left eye. He let his arrow drop his ears felt like they were ringing, muffling picking up the cry of Tara.
The world was coming to an end. And in a zombie apocalypse, everyone's survival was not guaranteed.
:(
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austenpoppy · 2 days ago
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I would disagree sliiiightly. I think this analysis is correct in that whenever Dick feels more responsible and/or guilty (the two lines are sometimes blurred, like it was when he first met Linda Park), which is always the case when he's the leader of a team, he will tend to act more serious, to be more focused, to be more intense, while taking the weight of the world on his shoulders. It can impact the view people have of him.
In fact, it is the very strain of that burden that got him to tell Bruce, in their conversation during the Quake, that he couldn't see himself leading people anymore (that didn't last long, but this conversation is significant nonetheless) like Bruce did, that not doing it anymore was a reflief because being a leader was too stressful.
But even then, Dick being more serious than he is with Bruce doesn't mean he spends his time brooding and scolding at people who don't take the job seriously. In fact, I would say it's a common misconception to say that Dick often berates people (namely Gar) who don't do their job seriously enough. In NTT, Dick would often tell Gar to can the jokes at a critical moment, but it wasn't because he thought Gar wasn't doing his job seriously - it was about Dick unable to hear people joking around when he was too worried/they had to focus because if they didn't it would be the end of their lives or the end of the world. It's not a "I will take you by the scruff to tell you to take this more seriously or to quit" kind of attitude. People often refer to "Titans #19" to underline the idea that Dick can be like that, but this moment was more about Dick being defensive and lashing out because of a perceived failure than anything else (something Dick is prone to do).
The truth is that Dick's natural instinct is to be outgoing, optimistic and to joke around. Even right when he met Kory and had to deal with multiple responsabilities (including being the leader of the Titans) he still was not a straight-faced, overly serious person. How do I know that - apart from multiple moments showing Dick joking around and smiling, even in battle ? When he started acting weirdly (after the Church of Blood's mind-control started to kick-in and he was dealing with multiple personal issues), Kory ended up comparing the man she'd met, who she described as "warm, caring and fun" with the way he was behaving.
Just look at that one time he led the Justice League as Nightwing (it starts around JLA #70 or #71, if my memory serves me right) during an absolutety terrible time : most of the Leaguers had disappeared, and there were serious, world-threatening crises to take care of. He was clearly taking things seriously (started the gig by telling everyone to put their problems aside), and was pretty insecure about his abilities, plus was very worried about where the Leaguers could be, and even then he could make jokes (told Ollie "Got you to shut up for five minutes, didn't I ?" after Olliver cursed him for having rethoric skills), got into battle smiling after a talk with Faith, and he told Kyle he would hug him if he wasn't so freaked out after Kyle's "ghost" proved who he was by saying "Young man on the flying trapeze"..
Dick does take things seriously because he caresTM, but Dick becoming very serious/very intense/borderline obsessive is never a good sign. It either means there's an incredibly big threat coming up/people have been hurt, or Dick's getting into his own head and feeling burned out/guilty/like a failure. And both can be true at once. Linda seeing Dick as "the most intense guy she's ever met" was after the Wildebeest society fiasco, after Mirage, after the failed marriage, after getting demoted as leader of the Titans, and he was on top of that blaming himself for yet something else.
Don't think Dick is "only" fun when he's with Batman, that he is "in reality" very serious. No, Dick is a fun and warm person who takes things seriously because he caresTM and has a tendency toward self-blame, but him acting serious all the time and getting really intense is a sign that something's dreadfully wrong.
One of the things I love about Nightwing is that: "yes he is the funny and nice one".... When compared to batman. By normal standard, he is pretty serious actually.
Also I like the changes of personas when he is with different groups ? Like he takes on the role of the light to Batman's darkness, the lighter one when he is with Batman and later on the Batfam.
When he is with the Titans, he is the leader and the planner and he feels responsible for the team so he is more serious.
And when he is by himself the fun part is to get to a balance in both personas ?
But regardless of the people he is with, his hyper competence and the way he has to bring people in and get people to trust him is kinda always there, and I love him.
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joequiinn · 1 day ago
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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | epilogue
[chap seventeen] | [all chapters here]
Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, dysfunctional family dynamics, idiots-to-lovers, smut & nsfw themes
a/n: Well, we've finally made it, everyone, and I'm feeling emotional about it. This epilogue is just a lil something I thought up while I was considering what the future would hold for Eddie and ice princess, and I love it dearly.
wc: 3.2k
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Epilogue
September 1985
I want to be somewhere big and interesting. New York, L.A.… fuck, even Florida for all I care, I just want out of Hawkins, out of this town.” “Then I guess we’ll be those high school sweethearts that run off to L.A. together after graduation, huh?” “Oh, I’m sure.”
September 1987
Eddie should’ve been home by now. You’d memorized his work schedule within his first week of starting at VIP Records, so you knew his shift always ended at 6pm on Tuesdays - so where the hell was he? It was nearly 8:30, and you’d been getting more and more antsy as the minutes ticked by, worrying over what could possibly be delaying him like this.
So much had happened in the two years since you and Eddie began dating back in Hawkins - your world had changed so much that sometimes you felt like a completely different person. It started with some big things, like reintroducing Eddie to your parents and begging them to start fresh with him - though your father resolved to never show any warmth to your boyfriend, at least your mother was kinder.
You decide that you wouldn’t be going to college following graduation, instead wanting to take a year to work, which was yet another thing your father didn’t warm to. Somewhere amidst that decision and the subsequent string of arguments that followed, you found yourself spending more nights with Eddie and Wayne than you did with your own parents, until one day you realized you had informally moved into the Munson home. So, by the end of summer ‘86, you were out of your parents’ house and working full-time to save up for whatever may come next (and to pay rent, despite Wayne’s insistence that it was entirely unnecessary).
You weren’t sure who proposed the idea first, but you and Eddie had decided one day that you were going to move out to California. Initially, this was just some fantasy for the two of you, something to give you hope that you’d hightail it out of Hawkins one day, but over time that fantasy started to look more and more real until finally you agreed that maybe the idea wasn’t half bad at all.
So, you began to set aside more cash, began to look into neighborhoods and cities around Los Angeles, began to tell everyone that the two of you would be leaving town soon enough. No one really believed you at first - all your friends were in support of the idea, but they didn’t think it was particularly realistic. And when you mentioned it on one of the very rare occasions you saw your parents anymore, your father had the gall to laugh right in your face. That, of course, only bolstered your resolve to get the hell out of Indiana, and a lot of your freetime was slowly consumed with library visits to figure out how exactly to make this move happen.
You and Eddie finally made the leap a few months back, spending a couple weeks road tripping your way across the country, finally arriving in Los Angeles with only your most important earthly belongings and little else. Leaving Hawkins had been harder than you expected - leaving Wayne being the hardest - but you found California to be utterly refreshing, to fit you almost like a glove.
After living out of a hotel for a while, you found this cozy little apartment down in Long Beach, and you’d been content ever since; sure, it wasn’t perfect and the neighborhood wasn’t impressive, but it was your space, and that made it just right for you and Eddie. You both got jobs to hold you over for a while, you started visiting bars and venues, hell, you even found a stray cat that you quickly adopted without a second thought.
You’d been leaving the dollar theater after seeing a re-release of Labyrinth when the little calico found you - something about the film, and David Bowie, had totally mesmerized you when it came out the year prior, and Eddie was happy to take you to the special showing that night. So, when this cat approached you curiously and began weaving playfully between Eddie’s ankles, you were both immediately smitten. You named the cat Sir Didymus only to discover it was female a few weeks later, but it suited her rascally personality just fine, and thus her name stuck.
And now here you were, five months into your new California life and driving yourself crazy over where the hell Eddie was and why he was late to return home.
You called the record store and asked if maybe he was working late and forgot to mention it, but his coworker informed you that Eddie clocked out right on schedule; he mentioned that Eddie seemed eager to leave, but didn’t have any further information for you. On the one hand, it made you worry that something had happened, but on the other, you were annoyed that he had possibly made plans without telling you, as unlikely as that may be.
You’d tried to think of all the places in town that he could have gone to, but nothing seemed particularly viable - he wouldn’t have gone to a show without you, wouldn’t have gone to the store without you, wouldn’t have gone anywhere without you. Not unless he was keeping some kind of secret, but you couldn’t fathom what that might be.
Considering that today was your birthday, you had originally thought maybe he was making a special stop to get you flowers or a cake or a last minute gift; it was so like Eddie to do that, even after you insisted he didn’t need to get you anything at all. But once 7 o’clock hit, and then 7:30, and then 8pm, you began to doubt this original line of thought and assume the worst instead. 
Decidedly, a few minutes past 8, you’d thrown on one of Eddie’s sweaters and your shoes, and made the short trek down to the convenience store on the corner - the two of you were in there practically every day, so maybe one of the employees had seen him. The familiar night clerks greeted you, but when you asked about Eddie’s whereabouts, they didn’t have a clue, which made your worries grow even more. As if to put your mind at ease, they gave you a free 6-pack and said they’d call you if they saw him.
You returned back to the apartment to Sir Didymus crying for dinner, which made you realize you forgot to set out food for her earlier. Cursing to yourself, you filled her bowl and began to pace nervously, trying to consider where the hell Eddie could be. Did you forget about a show that he had previously mentioned? Or was he hit by a fucking truck? Maybe he got caught up chatting with a customer like he was one to do, or maybe he got fucking mugged. All possibilities were on the table, and you hated each and every one of them for causing you such worry and distress.
Prying open a window, you crawled onto the fire escape and lit a cigarette, hands shaky with anxiety as you pressed it to your lips. The night was relatively quiet for your neighborhood, which wasn’t saying much - there were always cars cruising up and down the road, music blasting from a nearby bar, and people constantly arguing in alleyways and backyards. But the noise was soothing in its way, reminding you that the world was constantly in motion and that Eddie was probably just caught up in it all.
Sir Didymus came to sit beside you, meowing as if she, too, was wondering where the hell Eddie was and why he wasn’t back home. You considered throwing on some clothes to go searching for him, but aside from the bar and the convenience store, there was nowhere in the area that he would be; moments like these made you wish you two hadn’t sold your car, because it would’ve been really convenient to have right about now.
Each time you heard tires screeching or saw headlights shining down the road, you craned your neck to get a better look, but it was never Eddie. You’d already nervously polished off two cigarettes and were lighting up a third; Sir Didymus had retired to sleeping on the pile of blankets that she commandeered within a few days of moving in.
As you were caught up in your anxious thoughts, you thought you’d heard metal music from somewhere nearby, muffled and far off, but it caused your ears to perk; when you realized that it was specifically a Dio song playing, you immediately shot to your feet, clambering back through the window while dropping your cigarette into the ashtray.
Without bothering to slip on shoes, you rushed out onto the breezeway connecting all the little apartments in your complex, gripping the rails as you tried to find the source of the music, which was obviously louder from this side of the building. The street in front of your complex was crowded with cars, so if the music was Eddie’s, he must have had to park way down the block; eventually, the music stopped, and you became more anxious by the second.
When finally you spotted Eddie walking up the sidewalk towards the gate, you all but rushed down the stairs to meet him halfway; Eddie smiled largely, clearly not able to make out your concern under the flickering lights illuminating the path. A glare grew in your eyes as you realized he looked just fine; in fact, it seemed he stopped by the store, if the grocery bag in his hand was anything to go on. He held up his arms to greet you, but before he could get a word out, you hissed while jabbing him in the chest.
“Where the hell have you been?” Your eyes were alight with panicked concern, and you didn’t realize until that moment that you were on the verge of relieved tears. You swallowed, determined to hold them back, “It’s almost 9 o’clock, Eddie, I was worried out of my fucking mind.”
Eddie’s face fell, arms drooping at his sides; he didn’t expect you to have gotten so worked up over him not returning on time. He thought he could surprise you, that he could do something nice for your birthday, but the utter panic in your expression told him otherwise. He dipped his head down towards yours, hoping that he could sooth all the stress that had bubbled up inside you.
“I should’ve called--”
“No shit.”
Eddie clenched his jaw a little, taking a breath - he wasn’t about to get upset with you, he wouldn’t let himself, “Let’s go upstairs, okay?”
The impulsive side of you wanted to argue with him right here and now, wanted to grill him about why he didn’t come home and what he was doing. The more patient part of you, however, held back, shaky breaths heaving in your chest as you nodded with a twisted expression. You spun around on your heels and marched up the stairs, crossing your arms with a scowl; Sir Didymus sat just outside your open door, curiously waiting for you both.
Following just a step behind you, Eddie sighed to himself as he took in your rigid posture, realizing that he should’ve thought this through - after all, since your move to Long Beach, the two of you were essentially attached at the hip, doing absolutely any and everything together. Of course you would worry when he didn’t come home, when he didn’t call or give you a heads up - but, again, he’d just been hoping to surprise you, and hadn’t considered that a few hours would get you as stressed as you were now.
Back in the apartment, you took large strides towards the open window and retrieved your cigarette from the ashtray. To calm yourself down, you began to pace, watching as Eddie closed the door behind him and waited there a moment as if to collect his thoughts; when he turned to face you, you quickly looked away and took a deep drag.
“God, Eddie, I’m trying not to be mad, okay, I was just so worried and I thought maybe there was something you were keeping from me or that maybe you were in an accident or even dead in a fucking ditch, and I know it’s ridiculous to get so worked up over only a few hours but--”
“You can be mad.” He interrupted the inevitable rambling that was about to commence.
You had always struggled to express emotions considering the household you grew up in, so these past two years with Eddie had been a learning experience for you, which led to your feelings often spilling over when they became overwhelming. You shot him a confused look, still struggling to this day with the idea that it was okay to feel something; you bit your tongue so that you wouldn’t keep babbling, trying to collect your thoughts.
“I should’ve told you where I was,” Eddie started, walking the short distance from the front door to the kitchen, gently dropping the grocery bag atop the counter, “but I wanted to surprise you.”
You laughed smally, feeling stupid for getting so worried over seemingly nothing. Shaking your head, you took a deep drag from the cigarette and turned to face the window, eyes unfocused as you looked around. You dropped your head, beginning to feel more and more stupid the more that you thought about it; you could hear Eddie coming up slowly behind you.
“Get out of your head,” He instructed gently, to which you laughed again, “You’re probably already kicking yourself, am I right? As if you did something wrong?”
You narrowed your eyes at his reflection in the window - fuck, he knew you too well. Slowly, you turned to face him again, but you kept your gaze on the floor. Eddie took another couple steps closer, waiting for you to eventually look up at him.
“I’m sorry, princess.” He said simply, and the pet name nearly caused you to smile fondly; even after all this time, it stuck, and you figured it wasn’t going anywhere. You could tell in his voice that Eddie saw you resisting to grin, “I should’ve called, I just got caught up in the surprise.”
The corner of your mouth pulled up, and you looked at Eddie carefully through your lashes; his smile was gentle and sweet, eyes far more adoring than you thought you really deserved. Swallowing your trepidation, you asked smally, “What surprise?”
Eddie’s smile grew larger as he cocked his head, “Your dual birthday-anniversary surprise.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, relief slowly relaxing your shoulders as you took a final small inhale of the cigarette before tossing it out the window, “My birthday is not our real anniversary and you know it.”
You smiled fondly at the memory of meeting each other at that picnic table behind the football field, at the crazy fake dating scheme you had that ultimately led you to where you were now. It felt like a lifetime again that senior year happened, and yet it still felt as if it was only yesterday.
“So maybe we have two anniversaries.” Eddie teased fondly, his eyes taking you in as if you were still a breath of fresh air to him. Under those soft, adoring eyes, you could feel your ears growing hot even still.
You sighed affectionately with a shake of your head, crossing your arms as a gust of wind came up through the window; being near the beach, the air was always unexpectedly cold at night. As you took in the always pleasant sight of Eddie, you realized he had a bandage just above his collarbone, which caused your brow to furrow with concern as you looked between it and his face.
“What happened?” You asked, closing the gap between you two so you could worry over whatever the hell was on his neck; you wondered if maybe he nicked himself shaving, but the bandage seemed far too large for that. Did he hurt himself at work?
As you reached for the bandage, Eddie laughed, capturing your wrists in his hands before you could touch his neck. You met his eyes with confusion, to which he simply shook his head.
“That’s the surprise.”
Your expression deadpanned, “You getting hurt is the surprise? Geez, babe, how romantic.”
Eddie laughed again, fondly rolling his eyes, “Not hurt in the way that you think.”
Clearly enjoying your confusion, Eddie released your grip and reached for the bandage, hissing a little as he tried to gently peel it off. Your jaw dropped in both surprise and confusion at the injury beneath it, not prepared for what it would be.
It was a tattoo, though that wasn’t the surprising part, considering that Eddie was slowly becoming covered in them. No, what took you aback was that the tattoo was quite clearly your lips, done in a shade almost identical to the lipstick color you’d been trying just the day before. You stared dumbly at it, as if you couldn’t quite compute it, as if you didn’t quite think it was real.
When you finally managed to draw your gaze back up to Eddie’s face, he was smiling from ear-to-ear, eyes twinkling with clear delight at your stunned expression. You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times as you tried to find your voice again, eyes rapidly looking back and forth from the tattoo to his face and back again.
“You… got a tattoo for me?” Your tone was one of disbelief; saying it out loud made the moment more real, and suddenly your throat felt tight as if you could cry.
Eddie nodded with pride, “You like it?”
You stared at the replica of your lips, recalling the evening prior when you’d been testing out make-up samples that you’d gotten from work. Eddie always enjoyed watching you apply make-up, and of course lipstick was his favorite part; when he commented on a shade that he seemed particularly fond of, you leaned over and planted a loud, silly kiss at the base of his neck.
Considering that you crawled out of bed hours before him to get to your shift at the make-up counter, you didn’t see whether or not he’d ever cleaned the lipstick off; evidently, he must have worn it like a badge of pride all day until he could finally get down to the tattoo parlor and make it permanent.
Shaking yourself from your reverie, you looked at Eddie lovingly, your eyes a little more wet; god, you’d gotten so much more emotional since he entered your life, it was nearly ridiculous. Or maybe you’d just become more vulnerable, far less skilled at holding back when it was just the two of you alone.
You cupped his cheeks gently, being extra careful not to go near the fresh tattoo, “God, I love you.”
The smile he gave you was dazzling, mesmerizing even, “I love you, princess.”
You drew his lips down to yours, resting your forehead gently to his; Eddie hummed contently, whispering a tender “happy birthday” against your lips before kissing you fiercely.
.
.
addt. a/n: I'll try to keep this short and sweet. Thank you to everyone who has read this fic and watched it grow, to those that have been commenting and messaging with each update, and to all the incredibly fic writers I've met through this story! And, of course, a HUGE THANK YOU to my dear @eddiernunson for being so invested - you've helped me developed so many ideas, and it's truly warmed my heart to see someone else love the ice princess as much as I do <3 If anyone would like to be tagged in any future outings these two may have in store, please let me know!
@3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @adelalaaa @adversary713 @avalon-wolf
@costellation-hunter @daisy-munson @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie
@dreamerjj @eddiernunson @feralgoblinbabe @frogtape @fromasgardandback
@fckyeahlames @graciehams @kellsck @kthomps914 @littlexdeaths
@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @maskofmirrors @mewchiili
@miaajaade @miss-celestial-being @mmmunson @moonisu @munsonssweets
@no-bueno-writer @nxrdamp @ollieolive @rach5ive @sapphire4082
@sav12321 @seatbacksandtraytables @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19
@teethvenom @tvserie-s-world @twihard28 @urlivingdeadgirl @v1per1ne
@wefracturedmotivation @welcometohellsock @whats-my-question @xxsxdghxstxx
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gilverrwrites · 2 days ago
Note
Dick being a bit of a perv towards Tim’s friend…you and Tim obviously have crushes on another, but Dick subtly convinces you that it’s unrequited, that Tim is turned off by how naive you clearly are…unless you want Dick to teach you some things, he’s be more than happy to *do it*…of course his hands are already creeping down your pants as he says this.
What?! Anon you're crazy. Dickie would never ever do something like this! Anyway... Warnings: Coercion, manipulation, choking, slut shaming, implied age gap Virgin!Reader.
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The very first time he met you; Dick made it his mission to ensure he was your favourite member of the family. He’s often the first to invite you to events. He’s always cutting in at galas, much to Tim’s chagrin, and telling you how great you look. Not just the fancy stuff either, he showers you with compliments all the time. He just loves your cosy hoodie, and did you get a haircut? It looks great.
Sometimes he’ll make a show of staring at you, all starry-eyed as he says shit like “Wow. You really are just sooo beautiful. Tim’s a lucky guy.” Knowing full well Tim and you are not an item.
“If only I’d got there first.” Knowing that his comments will almost certainly embarrass Tim.
“What did Tim do to deserve you, anyway?” That the embarrassment is liable to make Tim push you away a little bit.
But it’s not all flirtation. Dick also asks about your life, your friends and family. He learns about your hobbies, and watches your favourite films so he can talk to you about them. He's always offering advice, warranted or not. He just wants to be ‘the best soon-to-be brother-in-law’, you know?
So, he's unsurprised and elated when you call him one night, on the brink of tears after seeing Tim on what looked like a date with someone else. “I feel so weird calling you since you're brothers but you're the only one who knows us both.”
“No, no, no. Don't ever feel like you can't talk to me. You can always come to me for anything! Why don't I come over?”
Half an hour later he's on your couch, listening to you lament about your hopeless crush on Tim. He pats your shoulders, and rubs your back throughout, subtly getting closer and closer until you're all but sat in his lap with his hand dangerously high up your thigh.
“Listen, Tim is my brother, and I love him, I do. And I don't believe in slut shaming, that's not what this is, but he does get around. A lot.” He catches a stray tear with his thumb. You don't move when he lingers, so he keeps shooting, caressing your cheek until he reaches your lips where he grazes their softness far longer than is appropriate. His cock is rock hard from cradling you, there's no way you haven't noticed it digging into your asscheek. You can't be that dumb? “I shouldn't say this, it’s not my place but you deserve to know. He’s a cheater. He's cheated in almost every relationship he's been in. I think he gets bored… Sexually.”
He hadn’t thought you could look any sadder, but you managed it. He almost feels bad. Almost.
“You should be fine though. You know what you're doing, right? No? That's crazy, you're so lovely.”
It takes a little persuasion, but it's cursory more than anything.
“Tim doesn't need to know; it’ll be our little secret.” He promises as he slides his fingers under your waistband.
That night he makes it all about you. He practically spoils you, never using anything but his hands and mouth to make you melt for him, over and over. It takes all his resolve not to kiss you stupid, only because you make such captivating sounds. Such moreish whimpers and moans. For his ears only.
He’s the worst brother in the world.
But that doesn’t stop him from calling you every chance he gets.
He knows he’s going to hell when he’s filled with a sick sense of pride, after dropping you off for a coffee date with Tim, having cum all over your tongue only moments earlier and driven you there with his hand practically lodged between your legs.
Sometimes he fantasises about sucking his name into your chest. Just so Tim will know exactly where you've been if he ever has the balls to close the deal.
But the veneer can only last so long, and you unknowingly chip away at it, bit by bit every time you say Tim’s name. “Do you think Tim would like this?” “I can't believe I'm asking but do you know if Tim…” “Oh, I can’t tonight, Tim and I…”
It finally shatters the first time he fucks you though. You take it so well, slowly letting him stretch out your tight, virgin hole. He barely even has to coach you through it, just a few sweet words of praise, his fingers brushing you in all the right places and your bouncing on his cock like it was made for you.
But then you go and spoil it. He barely even remembers what you said exactly. “Something, something, Tim.” and he's seeing red.
The next thing out of your mouth is a startled gasp as he fixes his hand around your throat and squeezes, pulling you close and pushing his length so deep inside that your eyes roll back as he spits; “Tim doesn't want you.”
You're like a deer in the headlights, wide-eyed and confused but still moaning like a slut as he ruts up into you. “He did, but do you really think he'd ever touch you now? When he finds out you've been hanging off his big brother's dick? Should of taken photos so he can see how bad you wanted it.”
“But- but you said-”
“I know what I said.” You look the most aggrieved when he cuts you off. Never in a million years did you think golden boy Dick Grayson would be so callous. “And you bought it all. God- you’re too easy.”
He trails off for a moment, getting lost in how fucking good you feel, walls tight and twitching around him, milking him a little bit more every time he pinches your throat or bites out another nasty comment. All this time he’s been so nice to you; he should have known you’d like him mean.   
“Fucking shit~ I was never gonna let Tim have you. You were mine the moment you walked into the manor.”
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