#aka no more sharing the same house

[copia]

should i make bad choices

[cryptfile]

𖥨᩠ׄ݁ holy terrain!!!!!!, [ homelander x supe!reader ]

SUMMARY— based on a request aka when you arrive to vought’s tower covered in blood, you certainly don't expect to enjoy John’s comfort after feeling so numb.

WARNINGS — +18 minors dni, implied fem! reader, homelander is a warning himself, usual the boys content, mentions of murder, violence, reader matches homelander’s freak ngl, always wash your hands before fingering #PLEASE, blood kink at it's best, degradation (blink and you’ll miss it), dirty talk, porn without plot sort of?? lmao blame it on my hormones.

SIDE NOTES — hi there, this is a result of me going feral in this new season. English's not my first language, so please be kind, any mistake it's my own fault sorry in advance. Hate this mf but wont deny I wouldn't fuck him to calm him down. Please interact if you like this, reblogs, comments, likes, all means a lot to me!

The smell is under your nose.

At first it didn’t bother you to feel the warmth of it, you’re not disgusted by blood. But it’s everywhere. Fucking everywhere. Sticking in your face, staining your damn suit, pooling beneath your feet.

You can feel your own breathing, yet, you're numb to everything else. The screams of terror and the sudden silence of the killing are now something similar as a long-time-ago memory, a distant thought you cannot bring yourself to care about.

And when you came out of the elevator, you don't care about the other people looking at you either. The Vought personal that were always running in the floor, Ashley, or fucking Noir at the matter thinking you're Carrie or something, no one dares to talk to you even when you’re a mere sidekick, too afraid of your explosive personality to even demand to know what happened.

It's almost like you asked for it, to be left alone, to not deal with anyone but your own judgment.

So when you cross the hallway to your dormitory dreaming about a warm shower, you don't expect to see him inside, your relationship with Homelander being too sporadic to even catalog it as one. Yet he's there like it's his house, and you're too tired to even ask why he's there in the first place.

"There you are," he says, but you hear his voice like he's talking miles away from you instead of the couch where he really is. "Something was telling me you were having a rough day."

"Don't remember anything about inviting you to my room" he doesn't care about your tone as he walks closer to you, usually, when he speaks, he only seem to listen to himself. "Didn’t give you a key."

He's oblivious at your words, instead, he seems to be too lost in his own way of seeing things, just waiting for you to say something similar to what you’ve already said in his mind. To admit something like you missed him all day long, that you've been thinking about him as much as he's thinking about you, to fed his ego like only you can do after only a few times of sharing intimacy.

The air is thick, making it harder to breathe as he plants himself in front of you, blue eyes scanning your face as his fingers touched your hair, toying with the strands glued together with blood — Even if it’s gross, he don’t seemed moved by it, mainly, you think, because he’s been through the same too.

"Don't need a key to show up," he laughs like it's obvious, and you look at him like he's having a rougher time than you. "This is my building."

It's almost a reminder for you, that you're living under his roof and have a place on his team because he just wants to. Even when you always do the dirty job no one dares to do, if you save his ass more times you can count, he still remarks you’re living in his world.

“I know,” you fight the need to roll your eyes to the back of your head while responding. It’s something you remind yourself sometimes, how most of them are just plain stupid, always treating you like you were no better than fucking Deep.

The stink under your nose is annoying and your skin feels sticky at the touch so you’re almost begging for just ten minutes of privacy.

“I just missed you” he says in a low voice, almost ashamed of admitting something he would never even dare to say out loud, a sudden verge of vulnerability, strange raw honesty as he looks at you. “Didn’t you miss me too?”

You know the only way of really control him, how to make him do exactly what you want to do, so you let him. Let him act all needy and weird cause you want John wrapped around your finger, unable to think on his own. You want him to believe, whole-heartedly, that in the end he’s the one coming up with the great ideas when it's you every single time.

You don’t find it cruel, he’s the same with you and he deserves it, so when Homelander bites his middle finger to grab the fabric of his gloves and pull it off, you let him touch you, treat you like this lost-dove-in-trouble he loves to see — “Had an awful day. Just wanted to see you,” like that. The correct combination of words and he looks like he got fucking shot by a celestial force, mesmerized. “Always missing you, babe.”

He’s sold by the moment, that tone you use, that little nickname that gets him, the sound of your heartbeat slightly faster than before, not enough to catch you lying, but enough to show you’re indeed, happy to see him as well.

He's pleased, so the next is unexpected to say the least, and you hate every second of it when he carries you like you two are married or something similar, sitting in the sofa with you on his lap.

“What are you-”

He shushes you, and you cannot finish what you’re saying when he pulls you to his chest, the fabric of his suit against your cheek as he, weirdly enough, hugged you close, the sound of his heartbeat instead, loud against your ear as you can feel him breathing beneath you, an steady rhythm as the silence filled the room. It's weird sometimes, to think he's human as well before the compound V.

“Comforting you,” he says in a low voice. His bare hand now grabbing your tight enough to bury his fingers in the covered skin, squeezing it lightly as first, nothing you cannot control. And it's beyond doubt what he truly wants, the way his nose inhales the scent of your body like it's fuel, the blood mixing with your fragrance — "M' here now."

He likes it almost more than his own smell. Almost is the key, cause he cannot help but wish you'd stink like him after waking up next to him that very same day. The thought wakes something new in the alleged superhero, something that stings in his stomach, plaguing his mind with the thought of getting all that he wants, to mark you as his property as he has done before.

He cannot get enough. Of course he can't, he's used to have it all now, to never ask but take. That's why he bites your shoulder, why he didn't mind getting his hands dirty with you and your sticky suit, why he's not grossed out by anything, but instead, turned on by how much you needed him.

But in reality it's the other way around, cause Homelander's the one that pulls you closer, that kisses you like you're something heavenly, just like he is. He's not gentle, yet he knows you like it that way, that you're into that rough force he's used to and would kill any normal person in result.

"Who let you go on that mission on your own, huh?" He asks, concentrated in your suit, pulling it down slightly just to reveal the naked skin under the fabric, clean skin in contrast of all the red. "Seems like they all forgot we're supposed to work together."

You don't get why it feels so nice at first, why the hand on your hip moves through your body like you need some kind of reassurance after all you went through the day.

"I'm okay" you manage to say, the pure need to remind him you're good enough to make things on your own, some kind of memo that explains clearly that you want the same benefits he has. It's useless however, when he has you like that, making you tilt your head to the side, placing random bites in any sight of exposed flesh.

"You're hurt" he says, making you aware of your own body as he presses one hand against the injury on the side of your ribs. He's fucking sick for it, and it doesn't give you any time to react when his fingertips are pushing against the cut, your suit staining with your own blood as you mewl on top of him. "Clearly hurt."

He's drunk on depravity, lost on the face you make when the pain hits you all sudden, stealing the air from your lungs. He's suddenly hard beneath you and his hand's now rest on your hip making you move on top of him, hungry for anything he can get out of you, any little sound you make so focused on keeping quiet, trying so hard to not to fed on his bullshit.

The friction is unbearable, the fresh blood coming out of your now-opened wound, the slight force he uses to tear your suit apart like its nothing, giving him more space to work with as he seemed desperate to have you close. It takes you far from where you were first, the numb feeling that grew like a parasite your stomach swallowing it all, now instead, too sensitive to his touch.

Yes. You hate him for it, hate that it's too easy for him, the traumatized hero with too many issues, the world's strongest man that somehow manages to make a mess out of you just with something so simple as sitting on his lap.

He's so pleased when you moan, when you say his name and you forgot about mannerisms, he needs to pull out his other glove in response as his blonde hair falls over his face, throwing it to the floor as his bare hand is now able to rip apart your suit effortless. The warmth of his palm cups your now bare breast for him, and he leans into your chest, tongue flickering in circles over your nipple as you let out a strangled moan.

"Common, need you to use your words here," he demands for a moment, almost annoyed as you can see the traces of saliva that connected you to his mouth: Why does he look so good? Fucker. "Cause if you don’t stop me now I’ll reduce your suit to ashes.”

“Don’t care,” you know Ashley’s going to be pissed, yet it's not enough to say anything about it. "Fucking hate the suit anyway."

"Such a dirty mouth" you're tugging his hair, hand on your kneecap pulling it slightly to the side as he forces you to open your legs for him. "What can I do with you?"

There it is, the ripped sound of his hands tearing the rest of the fabric apart, the pliable desperation in his touch, grabbing, kissing, and palming the curves of your body as it's holy terrain, unstudied land. He's caught in the smell of your skin finally mixing with his, the way your hips grinded in need for a deeper contact.

He laughs at you, laughs at that sight of defeat when he finally slides the hand that was on your knee under the ripped leavings of your now-destroyed suit. Of course he fucking loves the way you're speechless all thanks to his efforts, that you're unable to keep still as you straddle him now confident he's not repulsed by your dirty nature.

"Did you get turned on by killing?" He asks, and you try to respond something like he's clearly dumb. "Been smelling you since you've got here. All wet, covered in blood."

He's far from lazering you, but you can feel the weight of his gaze almost trespassing you when his hand finally reaches that nice spot between your legs and feels your drenched underwear beneath his fingertips. He can feel it all, and you are aware of it.

He's driven by the sounds of your heartbeat, the way your skin glimmers with sweat, he knows you're enjoying every second of it, his fingertips fondling on top of the cloth moments before pulling it to side. The warm contact with your cunt is enough to make him lose it, enough to make him succumb beneath you as he explores the folds of your aching core, his other hand holding your hip just to keep you in place.

John seems to forget, always does. Cause his grip turns beyond bruising and you can hear the crack when he moves you against his hand, a new broken bone to added to the list as he's unaware to the sound it produces, the pain that makes you shake violently blending immediately with pleasure.

You can take it. You're tough and a big girl who's taken worse, so you don't whine about it knowing you must be healing already, instead, you let yourself be trapped in that haze he created, the sounds of your sex when he hits that very spot you overly-enjoy, digits slightly curving inside as he’s experiencing the velvety feeling of your walls colliding against his hand.

"That's it, keep the show for me.” He loves praising so much since you told him he’s doing good one time, he needs to do the same for you at the first chance he got while you offered yourself to him, riding his fingers. “Such a good slut.”

He’s concentrated in the way his fingers disappear inside of you, the intense smell of blood and sex that now fills the air as you moan out his name, the red droplets in your face much like freckles, far more wicked than pure marks on your skin.

“So nice, so warm,” he says to himself, the slick sound of your arousal filling the room, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your chest as he marks your skin like you’re all his.

He’s sure he’s alleviating your problems, sure he’s making you feel so much better, thumb tracing circles in your swollen bud as he stole cries of pleasure from your parted lips.

You don’t let him know you’re close but he can sense it, the slight change in your breathing each time more erratic, your heartbeats quickening their pace as you got closer to the edge.

And when you really finish, when you’re done riding your high, you grab the remains of your teared suit and look at him with that damn smile he loves. You know he’s expecting to receive anything back, any favor you’re willing to give in return.

But instead, when you got off his lap, you just caress his cheek gently before saying — “See you later, John? Kind of busy now.”

my masterlist

[onmyyan]

Ain't no sunshine chapter 3

A/n: canon typical violence someone gets stabbed (not you) feedback is always welcome

The clock ticks in an uncomfortable rhythm, almost pounding in your ears, you swallow around nothing and try to take a deep breath, only a few more minutes now.

Sitting cross cross felt childish but you needed the comfort of being low to the ground, before you stood a proud grandfather clock, the thing always intimidated you for some reason, maybe it's because you could smell how expensive it was, how priceless, but it was the only room in the house you could guarantee would be free of any nuisances, aka your estranged family.

A lone little Debbie cupcake in hand, a candle in another, you stick the candle inside the soft flesh of the treat, lighting it with the silver zippo, the seconds begin to count down as the wax melts, today was your eighteenth birthday, and the day you'd find true freedom. A day you'd been waiting for since you'd decided to wash your hands of the Wayne's and all who associated with them.

Bruce had begun to add to his collection of broken people one by one a new face was added to the house, and one by one you were met with the same cold indifference.

Barbara Gordon came into your life warmly, on the arm of Dick, she was kind to you in the beginning, making a point to ask you questions and listening intently when you answered, immediately you admired the older woman, her charming grin and bright demeanor was like a light inside the house, until she became who you eventually discovered was Oracle, tied up in the world of heroes and monsters, she too joined the club of exclusion, unintentionally forgetting plans the two of you had made more often than not, sharing inside jokes with Dick about last night's patrol or even taking on a mentor role for Damian, each action like a stab to the heart.

The last straw felt like the smallest one. And it came in the form of Cassandra Cain.

The girl came to the family under reasons you couldn't know, but she was troubled, you could see the same look in her eyes you had when you looked in the mirror as a child, she didn't outright reject your friendship like Damian, but she was seemingly as disinterested in you as the rest of your family, the real kick to your heart came when you walked past a moment shared between her and Bruce, he was comforting her, you couldn't hear the words spoken but you could feel the love pouring from Bruce, how he had a gentle hand on her shoulder, showing her a kind of love he'd never once shown you.

It wasn't her fault and you held no grudge against her, but it still felt like a slap to the face, and every time you saw her, every time she followed them down to their little hiding spot, the acid-like sting deep in your chest got worse. It was then you made a promise to yourself, you'd stop trying, no more reaching out to Dick or praying Jason would message you back, no more begging for Tim's attention or Damian's respect, and you were sure as shit done asking Bruce to love you.

You're brought back to the present moment by the loud ring of the clock before you, the echoing sound brought a ear splitting grin to your face, finally, you were done.

Blowing out the candle, you toss it on the floor, standing with a pep in your step. You'd had your bags moved out days ago so the only thing left was to leave. A chatter could be heard the closer you got to the front door, male and female voices happily spoke with one another, but you were so unfazed, too excited about your current plans to care they'd gathered without you on your birthday.

"Oh hey (Y/n)" Dick says after spotting your form in the doorway, see the only reason you were here is because the dining room lead to the front door, and your new found freedom.

You nod at him, taking in the sight of popcorn and half empty pizza boxes, a movie projected on the wall, ah so they decided to have a little get together?

None of your concern.

"Sorry we didn't call you down, didn't realize you were home" Dick says a look of pity in his eyes, "do you want some?" It's almost said with a wince.

"Nah." Was your simple response, and with that you walked out of their door and lives.

You'd bought an apartment with your own money, you'd been working since you were fourteen, saving every penny for this moment exactly. It was in a shit part of town with an even shitter interior but it was yours and you loved it. Water dripped into a mostly full bucket in the corner, the lights took a full forty seconds to turn on and it reeked of old cigarettes.

Yet you couldn't wipe the smile off your face.

Feeling that euphoric rush had you buzzing all night, besides the bed in your room was, questionable to say the least, so you decided to stay up. Cleaning what you could with what you had made you feel even better, this terrible little space was all yours, no condescending people or assholes in sight.

Feeling hungry, you throw on a black puffer coat and a matching beanie and start to brave the Gotham cold. Each step is taken with a new gratitude, the farther you get from that family the better you feel.

Your happiness is pulled to a grinding halt by the sound of rapid footsteps behind you, without thinking you turn, fist balled tightly in perfect form, Patty would be proud if she saw the way you decked the bastard running up on you.

You nailed him right in the throat sending him to his knees, his knife cluttering to the ground before your feet, grabbing the weapon you point it down at his choking body, your hands still despite your rapid heartbeat. The wheezing man made a swipe at your ankles causing you to bring the knife down right into his shoulder, a scream rips though his throat, the adrenaline in your body has you running on autopilot.

Kicking him in the side of the head to quickly sprint to the corner store where you'd planned on going in the first place, your hands shake as you grab your food, but again, that smile stays on your face.

Not only had you moved out today, you'd proved to yourself you didn't need them for anything, not protection, not validation, nothing, it was like you could breathe again.

The next few weeks are business as usual at the manor, until Barbara looks at the calendar and realizes she'd, along with everyone, had forgotten your birthday. The guilt ate at her until she made her way to your room knocking softly, a cupcake in hand she called out, "(Y/n)? Listen I'm so sorry about your birthday, I got my dates mixed up." The lie came easy, but no response was heard, "I get if you're completely pissed at me, at us but-"

"Miss (L/n) has moved out."

"what? How is that possible we would have noticed her moving out." As if to prove Alfred wrong Barbara opens your door, only to find a barren room, empty of any signs of life. She turns to the older man, a thousand questions burning on her tongue, but he seemed to read her, "you'd be surprised what goes unnoticed in this house miss Gordon, have a good afternoon." He leaves her with this and it only makes the guilt and confusion worse.

She pulls out her phone scrolling to a number she hadn't used in a while, biting her thumb as it rings she's hoping you clear all her confusion when you answered, but you don't, instead an automated message tells her your phone has been disconnected. Now she begins to worry, you were so young, just barely an adult, the idea of you out on your own in Gotham had her heart sinking, clicking the family group chat she sends a message that will change everything.

"We need to talk about (Y/n)."

[flopsxii]

tokyo revengers boys with their crush (aka you!) <3

feat. sano ‘mikey’ manjiro, ryuguji ‘draken’ ken, hanagaki takemichi, baji keisuke, matsuno chifuyu, hanemiya kazutora, mitsuya takashi, inui seishu && kokonoi hajime

notes: first time writing for so many characters and some for the first time :0 i hope it isn’t ass!!! sorry if some characters i haven’t written for before are ooc and inaccurate! ALSO I HATE SQUID GAME BUT TRANS BADDIE.

— i will release a part two soon :)

sano ‘mikey’ manjiro

ꪆৎ i think mikey would be somewhat upfront with you about his crush. of course, he wouldn’t outright confess until he knew you shared the same sentiment. however, he’d make it fairly obvious that he thought highly of you and how he loves spending time with you over anyone else.

ꪆৎ he’d definitely ‘kidnap’ you from classes, begging you to leave because it’s an “emergency”, but really he just wanted to spend time with you. you’d scold him after, reminding him about the importance of school, but he’d just stand there with a love struck smile on his face. it didn’t matter wether you were lecturing him or ignoring him, being in your presence was enough to bring him happiness.

ꪆৎ his crush is blankly obvious to all of toman and probably other gangs in the near vicinity. no one dared to talk to you in a negative way, a bonus of having mike’s affections. and suddenly, if anyone was mean to you, it didn’t happen anymore… sometimes you wondered why but mikey would shush you immediately. “maybe they just realised that bringing down such an amazing person was a reflection of themselves, y/n-chan!”

ꪆৎ would love it when you accompany him on foodie ‘dates’, rides on his motorbike and even accompanying him to toman’s meetings. it genuinely shocked everyone when mikey would interrupt himself to stick his tongue out at you just to make you giggle. truly toman’s royalty!

ꪆৎ also would most likely pitch up at your house at random points of the day. even as ‘friends’, he’d want to nap together and just hang out alone where he wouldn’t have to maintain his reputation as the ‘invincible mikey’. with you, he could just be manjiro.

ꪆৎ in terms of confession, i think mikey would let it slip out when he’s most vulnerable. either when he’s super sleepy or just generally having a rough time. small whispers of how much he appreciates you and likes you would fall from his lips. once he realised what he had done, it was most likely too late to take it back. he just hoped you shared the same feelings.

ryuguji ‘draken’ ken

ꪆৎ unlike his best friend and captain, draken would keep his feelings to himself and it probably would stay that way for a while. it’s not because he doesn’t wanna be with you, in fact, it’s the opposite! he’d most likely think that a relationship with him would come hand in hand with people jeopardising your safety. so more likely than most, he’d stick to being your friend (a very close friend) until he knew you’d be safe.

ꪆৎ probably would trail behind you whilst you’d go shopping, a unreadable expression on his face but instead, his mind was overwhelmed by the thought of you! how adorable you looked as you pointed out cute things, making a mental note of items to buy you for your birthday.

ꪆৎ definitely would be the first one at your door if you came down with any sickness. even if it was a common cold! he’d remind you that sickness could get worse if left untreated and you should ‘stop denying him and just accept his help.’

ꪆৎ he’s immensely protective over you, even if he doesn’t necessarily need to be. other toman members would try and remind draken that he doesn’t need to be worried over your safety, after all the whole of toman would take care of you!

ꪆৎ i also feel like draken would be the type to pick you up and drop you off before and after school. even if the walk was 10 minutes and under, he’d remind you it could be dangerous alone! it’s purely just an excuse to spend more time with you even if he does act like it’s a chore.

ꪆৎ would probably confess to you if there’s imminent danger towards you or it would slip out without him realising. he’d definitely have to take a couple moments to compose himself if it was the latter, a furious blush erupting over his cheeks causing you to giggle.

hanagaki takemichi

ꪆৎ he’s so so shy around you! however, no matter how much he makes a fool of himself in front of you, he just can’t stay away. it’s like he’s in a constant state of fluster whenever he’s in your presence.

ꪆৎ definitely walks you to and from school, holding your hand if you initiate it first. he would probably also try carry your school books for you, even if you remind him that your arms work just fine. he just wants to help you in anyway he can!

ꪆৎ would also 100% feel awful when he sees the sad expression on your face whenever he turns up with new bruises and cuts covering his face. his heart would break when you graze your fingers over the wounds, asking a meek “do they hurt, michi-kun?”

ꪆৎ also the type to try show off to you whenever he can but fail miserably. although, if he sees that amazing smile, the humiliation he feels is always worth it! even if he ends up hurting himself, he won’t mind if you make sure he’s okay after. maybe a hug wouldn’t hurt also…

ꪆৎ speaking of hugs, he’d probably malfunction the first time that your arms wrap around him. even if you were doing it out of worry for his wellbeing, he cherishes the moment for the rest of his life.

ꪆৎ he doesn’t confess… it’s actually you who tells him how you feel. it’s a heartfelt conversation you two share after you see the boy beaten to a bloody pulp so that his friends would be alright. his loyalty and tenacity being one of the few reasons why you adore him so much!

baji keisuke

ꪆৎ honestly, he’s the definition of whipped. even chifuyu is surprised when he sees how baji acts in your presence. it’s so impossibly clear how much baji likes you to anyone else in the room, except you!

ꪆৎ he’d probably start fancying you if you helped with his studies and actually persevered with him despite how difficult he tried to make it. initially, he’d deny your help, grumpily saying he can handle it and to leave him alone. however, when you sit across from him and start reading through your notes and helping him correct his wrong answers, he’s floored. any other person would’ve left after his shitty response but you stayed.

ꪆৎ would act like your best friend but to anyone else, they view you as baji’s partner (albeit unofficially). is fiercely protective over you and if anyone makes you upset (even a little bit) are met with baji’s anger and very soon after, his fists. of course, you lecture him for jumping into action without consulting you but the fact he cares so much makes your heart beat impossibly faster.

ꪆৎ would definitely invite you over to his house to hang out, just so he could have some time alone with you. even if it’s just you reading and him silently laying beside you, it’s almost heaven to baji. if it was heaven, you’d be spilling your undying love for him but he thinks he wouldn’t be so lucky.

ꪆৎ would also end up sometimes bringing you to toman meetings if he absolutely has no other choice. but you’d stick by his side the whole time and if he’s not available for some reason, chifuyu is there to stand in!

ꪆৎ much like takemichi, you’d have to confess to baji first or you’d be playing cat and mouse with him for the rest of eternity. even his mum knows how he feels but he’ll deny every accusation. however, she’s just happy her hot headed son has someone he cares about and she’s so happy it’s you!

matsuno chifuyu

ꪆৎ chifuyu is definitely the type to crush on his best friend! someone he shares such a deep bond with and trusts on an immensely deep level. i doubt he’d fancy someone he knows on a surface level, he doesn’t know them well enough. however, he knows you inside and out, it never feels awkward around you (despite the constant blush on his cheeks that he hides everytime).

ꪆৎ he’s definitely protective over you, along side baji who will take care of you if chifuyu isn’t around. if he sees anyone hassling you, he’s the first to jump in and defend your honour!

ꪆৎ he always invites you round to his house just to see you cuddle peke j. furthermore, he’ll take you to the zoo, aquariums or just pet shops to hang out since you both share the same sentiment towards animals. it’s one of the reasons he’s fallen so hard for you.

ꪆৎ his mum adores your ‘friendship’ with her son, she’s never seen him so happy (in a romantic way!). she will buy food specially for you to share and even sometimes drop devious hints in your ears about her sons feelings; you don’t take it seriously at first.

ꪆৎ he probably doesn’t initiate physical contact with you too much, it makes his brain overload. but, the option is there… he will without a doubt wrap you in a bear hug; savouring the feeling for as long as possible.

ꪆৎ chifuyu is definitely the type to try reenact scenes from his favourite mangas then make a complete fool of himself. however, he doesn’t know that you appreciate him trying nonetheless, no matter how silly he looks doing so.

ꪆৎ following his shoujo manga’s ideology, he’d confess in a subtle but heartfelt way. i think either using peke j as a messenger, a small note tucked into his little collar. or he’d tell you up front and be as sincere with his words as his silly brain would allow.

hanemiya kazutora

ꪆৎ it’s likely that no one knows that kazutora has a crush on anyone, most of all you. i think he wouldn’t interact with you that much in public, instead opting to spend time with you in private when he could truly be himself.

ꪆৎ the amount of times kazutora has to cover his raging blush on his cheeks each time you hang out is insane! he never knew that compliments he hears on the daily about his appearance could make his heart beat so fast, until they came out of your mouth.

ꪆৎ he definitely visits you if you have a job, sneaking in and surprising you with a huge smile on his face! he’s also the type to stay until your shift ends and make sure you get home safely, wether you ride on his motorcycle or not.

ꪆৎ he may also sometimes slip you unexpected gifts, only small ones though that have sentimental value. maybe it’s cinema tickets from the time you dragged him out after his release from juvie.

ꪆৎ he doesn’t want you involved with any gang activity so it’s quite unlikely that you find out he’s still involved with that stuff. however, he would tell you flat out if you heard any rumours about him and would reassure you that he’d keep you seperate.

ꪆৎ it’s unlikely he’d confess, liking things how they are, no matter how much he wishes your relationship could progress. either he’s worried you’d see him as a monster, due to things he did in the past and in the present or he just wouldn’t know how to say it so it’s better left unsaid anyways. it would have to be you to lay your feelings out for him to see and decide what to do next.

mitsuya takashi

ꪆৎ i think mitsuya would be one of the most upfront about his feelings on this list without saying it directly. toman can clearly see the sentiment he shares for you, even girls in his class and sewing club know that he’s essentially spoken for!

ꪆৎ he loves inviting you along to his days out with his sisters. not only because he loves spending time with you but also because the two girls adore you as much as he does! one of his favourite photographs is the four of you on one of your days out, a scarf he made wrapped around your neck.

ꪆৎ speaking of clothes he’s made; mitsuya definitely surprises you with new pieces every so often. even if you’d try refuse, telling him he should try sell them as they’re just that good, he’d remind you that he’d much rather see them on you and wants no payment in return (no matter how much you insist).

ꪆৎ gentleman mitsuya always gives you a ride no matter where you need to go! even if you mention in passing that you’re going shopping in the coming days, he will insist that he’s your ride! after all, he can’t stand by whilst you lug heavy bags home.

ꪆৎ once mitsuya is certain about your feelings reflecting his, he’d be direct with his words. “i have feelings for you, y/n-chan.” a simple statement that gets the biggest weight off his chest. he can only hope you accept his confession…

inui seishu

ꪆৎ you’re most likely a childhood friend to seishu, i find it unlikely he’d fancy a classmate or a passing stranger. perhaps, a childhood friends sibling? that way, he’s able to determine wether you actually like him for who he is.

ꪆৎ alongside kokonoi, he trusts you immensely. i highly doubt he’s able to form romantic feelings for anyone without the formation of trust. you’re his confident and he’s yours, and it has always been that way. at this point, seishu is unable to see himself confiding with anyone else the way he does with you.

ꪆৎ when he first started gaining feelings for you, i think he probably would give you the cold shoulder, not understanding how he feels. but, he’ll make things right with you once his minds less foggy!

ꪆৎ if you don’t exactly share the same interests, such as how he’s very interested in motorbikes and mechanics, he will try very hard to get into your hobbies so you can spend more time together. however, it means an immense amount to him that you’ll sit there and let him ramble about his favourite bike that shinichiro worked on, even if it was so long ago.

ꪆৎ he would probably confess when everything has settled down in his life. that includes his involvement with gang activity. he would hate to put someone so close to his heart in jeopardy. however, if you can’t wait, you could always confess yourself…

kokonoi hajime

ꪆৎ it would take him a long, long time to actually acknowledge his feelings for you. he would probably feel like moving on was a betrayal to akane but there came a point where he couldn’t ignore those feelings anymore.

ꪆৎ he would treat you amazingly, even if he’s battling with the thoughts inside his head about you and akane. he’d offer you money if you needed it (you will most likely hand it straight back), buy you gifts and happen to forget the receipt…

ꪆৎ even after several talks that you like spending time with him because of who he is and not what he can do for you, kokonoi still finds it hard to accept. he probably will see some resemblance to akane in that sense and would probably think she’d want him to be with someone like you.

ꪆৎ one of his favourite things about you is that even if he isn’t in a sociable mood, you will still sit with him and enjoy his company. not to mention he’s floored by how amazing you look everytime he sees you!

ꪆৎ he also loves going on day trips with you and seishu, finding every different place the three of you visit special.

ꪆৎ his confession would be sincere and precise. he would lay his feelings out and would promise to treat you amazingly and of course, take care of you in anyway you’d need.

[beomgyuslilracha]

two best friends in a room ❀.*

⊹ pairing: huening kai x f! reader

⊹ genre: clueless childhood friends to lovers

⊹ warnings: drinking involved and maybe angst if you squint really hard? other than that, it's mainly fluff!

⊹ wc: 7.0k

summary: if you had a thousand won for every time you heard the question "are you two dating?" or just the words "you two should just date already!", you and kai could probably afford to buy a house together. in which two childhood best friends are the only ones in all of seoul who can't seem to see that they're obviously in love with each other.

there were always hints.

not-so-subtle clues.

signs — or, billboards, if you will.

realistically, they were all so blatantly obvious that anyone with a functioning pair of eyes could see it. something just short of being able to scream the words to the world itself.

unfortunately, there is a certain pair that was utterly and embarrassingly oblivious.

and even more unfortunate? it was the same pair that the billboards were screaming about.

two childhood best friends. the beloved trope that all the best stories were inspired by and written about. the kind of friends anyone could look at and know, at first glance, that they were soulmates - destined to be together in any and every lifetime

the only thing fate didn't account for, in this lifetime, was the fact that they were both ridiculously blind.

୨ ✿ ୧

huening kai and y/n.

brought together by a stolen pack of 64 crayola crayons in primary school and impossible to separate ever since. had no one known any better, anyone would have been convinced that the two of you were, quite literally, glued to the hip.

despite all the years that have passed since you two first met, you both still did absolutely everything together. hell, you literally followed each other from primary school all the way to the same university.

the only way life managed to pull you two apart at all was with the ridiculously unreasonable university guidelines separating the male and female dorms — the rules were very much reasonable, you two were just pouty about it.

luckily for your codependency, you and kai only ever had to deal with being apart for four days out of the week.

once the weekend came around, with yeonjun and soobin's approval - and sometimes even without - the two of you, along with beomgyu and taehyun, would gather at their shared apartment and spend the next two nights and three days all together.

in fact, tonight was the first night of said weekend, and you and kai were already making your way to the elevator to head up to the older boys' apartment.

not empty-handed, of course, seeing as you both had one hand occupied with bags full of snacks to share and enjoy between the six of you.

it was a sort of rule that yeonjun and soobin collectively implemented after a few months of four freeloaders living off of their food supply. if any one of you were going to come over - most especially unannounced - then you were kindly asked (aka demanded) to supply the group with drinks/snacks.

in any case, the hands that weren't holding anything were to be found perfectly entwined with each other's — and they have been ever since the two of you left the university. not that this was anything out of the ordinary; honestly, it would be more surprising if you weren't holding hands.

your friendship with kai, for as long as either of you could remember, has always been an affectionate one. lots of hand-holding, many hugs, and even quite a bit of cuddling that made the rest of your friends feel nauseous upon witnessing.

"ahh, if it isn't the happy couple," yeonjun teased immediately after opening the door, earning simultaneous eye rolls from the two of you.

"oh ha ha, that's a new one." you stuck your tongue out playfully at the older boy, handing him the bag of snacks from your hand.

kai followed, quickly passing his bag of snacks into yeonjun's other hand while quickly following you inside - greeting soobin with a sweet embrace directly after you.

there was just something about the 'teasing yeonjun and loving soobin' agenda that the two of you naturally followed.

"kai ... there is nothing but gummies in here." yeonjun pointed out from the kitchen, his brows furrowed together as he scavenged through the bags the two of you had handed to him.

"yeah, i wanted to try every flavor they had!" kai answered enthusiastically, parting from you momentarily to go and grab a gummy bag full of sharks.

"i tried to stop him, but he insisted," you said with a shrug.

"no you didn't! you grabbed half of the bags!"

you were just about to open your mouth to deny his accusations, but, one mini flashback later, you realized he was right. on top of that, you were pretty sure it was also your idea ... but the others didn't need to know that.

"whatever," yeonjun rolled his eyes, an amused grin on his lips as he left both bags full of gummies to sit on the countertop. "let's just hope taehyun brings something that's considered actual food."

soobin couldn't help but to laugh from the living room as he began turning on the TV. "no faith in beomgyu then, huh?"

"are you kidding? last weekend he brought a king-size snickers bar and considered that his contribution," yeonjun recalled, throwing himself onto the couch cushion as he shook his head.

both you and kai simultaneously burst into giggles as the two of you also thought back to the same memory of your friend's dorky grin holding up his snickers bar with pride.

"didn't he eat the whole thing himself, too?" you asked, laughing even more.

"i swear, if he comes in here with nothing again, i'm literally kicking him out," yeonjun stated with exasperation, though all of you were more than positive that he was not remotely serious.

gathering a few bags of gummies to share between the two of you, both you and kai settled together in the single recliner seat – despite the open loveseat across from the two of you being entirely available for you to sit comfortably in.

not that either of you were uncomfortable in any way. in fact, it was quite the opposite. you squeezed beside kai in the seat cheerfully, with your legs draped over his lap, and began to playfully add a peach ring to both of his ring fingers.

one glance in your direction had yeonjun gagging in a mocking manner, rolling his eyes dramatically.

he only stopped when you threw a shark gummy at his head, grinning in amusement as he took a bite of it's head.

a knock sounding from the door interrupted the casual chatter that had eventually occupied the room, introducing taehyun into the space once soobin had answered the door for him. he wordlessly lifted his arms, showcasing the bags filled with chinese takeout to the three of you that remained in the living room.

"tyun, you're my angel," yeonjun cooed, pretending to be moved to tears when he eyed the containers filled with actual food. he stood from the couch to walk over to taehyun with open arms of affection, though taehyun himself wasn't exactly welcome of the gesture – judging by the way he dodged his hug to greet you and kai instead.

"ah, i see you two have made yourself comfortable already," taehyun remarked, noting the position the two of you were in.

"wasted no time when they got here, actually," soobin added with a chuckle, walking back to the loveseat with a container of noodles in his hands this time.

you scoffed, shaking your head with the slightest twinge of annoyance, though not bothered enough to make any sort of comment in return.

unfortunately, you and kai were far too used to the teasing by this point.

whether they feigned disgust or constantly referred to the two of you as a couple, you both remained unbothered and confident in your friendship to not let any of their remarks affect you.

"whatever," you dismissed them casually, chewing off the head of the gummy bear in your hand. "so what're the plans for tonight?"

soobin shrugged with uncertainty, setting down his chopsticks after chewing his mouthful of noodles. "same as always, i think. we could make up another game tournament or just have a movie marathon."

taehyun was quick to shake his head as he sat down on the longer sofa, his expression appearing completely serious. "i'm not playing another game with those cheaters over there," he commented, nodding his head over in your direction.

your mouth gaped open in surprise. "what is that supposed to mean??"

yeonjun scoffed loudly in order to truly showcase his disbelief in your shock. "oh, please, as if you two don't always team up together to cheat against us."

"when have we ever-" kai started, but was cut off by the other three instantaneously listing all the games that the two of you have cheated in without any hesitation – which wound up being almost every single game.

"... and then there was also that time in monopoly where you were both sneaking money under the table-"

"okay, hold on, that's not fair! we were already on the verge of going bankrupt by the time we started cheating," you attempted to defend yourself, pointing your finger over at taehyun. "you had like 5 hotels on boardwalk, so excuse us for trying to help each other survive."

kai was too busy laughing beside you to join in on the conversation. he just found his best friend far too adorable as he watched you get so worked up over the memory.

the bickering went on for maybe another minute before the front door of the apartment suddenly burst open, finally announcing the presence of the final member of your group of six.

"don't worry, kids, beomgyu is here! the weekend can officially begin!" he announced loudly, kicking the door closed with his shoe as he held up two bags full of bottles of beer and soju.

"who gave him a key?" was yeonjun's only concern, looking over at soobin with a look of pure confusion.

"that's not important," beomgyu dismissed him, moving to the living room to set both bags onto the coffee table in front of everyone. "what is important is that i'm here with drinks!"

you laughed at the sight, shaking your head in amazement. "yeah, we can see that. did you want us to black out tonight or something?"

"no, i want us to have fun," beomgyu answered, lightly flicking at your forehead as if you were somehow the ridiculous one in this situation. "when was the last time the six of us actually drank and had fun?"

"i didn't know we needed to drink in order to have fun," taehyun deadpanned, not even bothering to look up from the takeout in his hands.

while the remaining four of you were in agreeance with taehyun, seeing as you've all collectively had fun together without any involvement of drinking before, beomgyu could just barely see out of the hole that he was digging himself into.

"okay, listen, you know that's not what i meant," he attempted to save himself, lifting his hands up in a surrendering motion.

"no, no, please! tell us, gyu, have you not been having fun this entire time?" you continued to tease, glancing over to kai in order to catch his amused smile and giggle together.

beomgyu noted this exchange, rolling his own eyes.

you both were always looking to the other for reactions, hoping to see if you managed to make the other smile or laugh. it was sickeningly sweet, truthfully - as if nothing was actually funny unless you reassured each other with a proper reaction.

beomgyu groaned, shaking his head. "listen, i don't want to hear it from mr. and mrs. over here, alright? you guys know what i meant!"

your previous expression of amusement quickly dropped, earning more snickers from the others. sure, you did claim to be confident in your friendship with kai to be unbothered by these types of comments, but that didn't mean they weren't still annoying to hear every five minutes.

although, you suppose that kai wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you closer to him wasn't exactly helpful to the argument.

but what did you care? as you snuggled closer into kai's embrace, you pushed the thought aside and reveled in the comfort of your best friend.

"fine, fine. what did you have in mind then?" soobin finally dragged the attention away from the two of you, pausing all the teasing for a brief moment to actually figure out what beomgyu's supposed plan to have fun was.

"thank you, my dear soobin, i'm so glad you asked," beomgyu beamed brightly. "i was thinking we could all happily drink to our heart's content and then play a mature game of truth or dare."

crickets.

"what are we, 12?" yeonjun scoffed, shaking his head instantly at the idea.

beomgyu's bottom lip jutted out into a pout. "oh, come on, it's not that bad of an idea! when we're drunk, it'll be more fun."

"listen, i'm down for drinking, but i'm probably not going to participate in your little grade school game," you spoke up honestly, shrugging.

the general consensus was pretty much on your side, leaving beomgyu to pout in defeat as everyone began grabbing a bottle to drink and continue on with the evening in a less immature way.

୨ ✿ ୧

by 10 o'clock that night and about three bottles of beer and multiple shots of soju later, the six of you were gathered around the coffee table and giggling like maniacs.

"okay, okay.. yeonjun, truth or dare?" beomgyu asked, slurring his words ever so slightly.

not one of you could remember how you got here.

yeonjun let's out a hiccup before smirking, his droopy eyes barely able to meet beomgyu's in return. "dare!"

"i dare you to record a dance challenge right now and post it to your story," beomgyu smirked back, laughing like a madman as if it were the most diabolical dare he could come up with.

"boooo," you groaned aloud, gesturing a thumbs down in beomgyu's direction. "he posts dance challenges all the time, this is no fun."

beomgyu hummed, his drunken mind barely realizing this fact for himself as well. "oh... okay, well, in that case we get to choose the challenge!"

yeonjun shrugged, entirely unbothered as he took another sip of his beer. "doesn't matter to me."

beomgyu was silent for a moment, seemingly trying to remember the current dance challenges that were going around, but all of you could clearly tell his foggy mind was coming up blank. after a brief moment of eye contact with you, he crawled over and whispered obnoxiously loud, "help me choose a challenge!"

your eyes widened with an idea, smiling brightly as you tried to recall the name of the song.

"oh, oh! make him- make him do that one where... with the girls, when they do the little thing.. with their hips?" God, what was the name of it again? your poor state of mind could not, for the life of you, remember what it was called. "you know the one, where it's like- like the .. titi ti ti... you know?"

your eyes scanned over your group of friends, hopeful that they would understand what you were talking about, but they were all collectively staring at you as if you had miraculously grown a second head.

"y/n, i mean this with all my love and affection... but what the fuck are you talking about?" beomgyu couldn't help but to laugh.

you pouted, sighing in defeat. you looked beside you at your best friend of the five, your eyes practically pleading for him to read your mind and understand you. "kai, you know what i'm talking about, right?"

he hummed for a second before lighting up with realization. "oh! you mean antifragile?"

you gasped, wasting no time in throwing your arms around him in excitement and knocking him over to the floor. "yes!! yes, thank you! i knew you'd understand me!" you peppered kisses all over his cheek in delight, genuinely overjoyed.

kai's face was now entirely flushed red at this point, and he had to hide his face behind his hands from the embarrassment after you finally pulled away from him.

an action that was certainly not missed by the group.

"there! you have to dance to antifragile and post it to your story," you beamed brightly, acting entirely nonchalant – as if you hadn't just spent the past minute and a half kissing your best friend's face.

taehyun blinked with mild surprise, exchanging equally confused looks with soobin. even they couldn't remember a time where the two of you were that affectionate with one another, so neither of them were entirely sure if they should acknowledge or ignore it.

yeonjun, for the time being, went with the latter.

"okay, well, let's film this challenge and move on."

and that he did. although, in his head, he was overly confident that he absolutely nailed the challenge and had no shame in posting it. the rest of you, however, could clearly tell that he forgot half the choreography and started dancing to an entirely different song halfway through.

of course, neither of you spoke up to correct him. you collectively agreed it would be funnier for him to watch it back in the morning.

"alright, so it's my turn now, yeah?" yeonjun asked as he sat back down on the floor, a hint of a smirk gracing his lips.

your eyes were narrowed suspiciously as his smirk only widened once he looked over and met your gaze.

"y/n. truth or dare?"

a suspicious feeling in your gut was just sober enough to convince you to play it safe. something about his determined stare had you worried about what he had in mind for a dare.

"uhh, truth."

with a subtle glance at kai, yeonjun continued on, "okay. have you ever had a crush on any one of us before?"

you blinked. "what? where did that come from?"

"oooh, that's a good one!" beomgyu was thoroughly impressed with yeonjun's question, now watching you with intense curiosity shining in his big, boba eyes. "have you?"

even soobin and taehyun were eyeing you with piqued interest.

you swallowed a nervous gulp, feeling your cheeks heating up under their scrutinizing gazes.

"is that a yes i'm sensing, little y/nie?" yeonjun teased in a cooing voice, smirking almost devilishly as he studied the way you were shyly avoiding eye contact. "which one of us, huh?"

"hey, cut that out," kai quickly stepped in, setting his drink down. "she doesn't have to answer that."

his arm snaked around your waist protectively, his brows furrowing together. he couldn't entirely tell if you were uncomfortable by the question, but he'd rather not take any risks.

one could argue, however, that maybe kai was the one personally trying to avoid the question. taehyun's eyebrow twitched inquisitively, eyeing kai now more than ever. was he, perhaps, the one who did not want to know the answer to that question?

"fine, fine, but she still hasn't answered the first one," yeonjun chuckled, tilting his head playfully. "and if she doesn't, then she has to do the triple dog dare of my choosing."

you groaned, your hands reaching up to cover the glowing red color that was painted across your cheeks from the embarrassment. there was no way in hell you were about to have yeonjun triple dog dare you to do anything.

"okay!" you exclaimed, still staring straight ahead at the table to avoid looking at any of them. "yes... i had a crush on one of you guys before, but that was way back in our first year of high school. it lasted, for like, a week and then i was over it."

the room fell dead silent, the five of them now exchanging glances with one another as they telepathically tried to figure out which one of them it was that had caught your eye back then – even if it was rather short-lived.

in any case, you figured it would be funnier to never speak on the topic again and watch as they drive themselves crazy trying to figure out who the one was.

"moving on," you continued the game casually. "taehyun, truth or dare?"

he strategically chose to answer truth, allowing you to ask him a rather harmless question about any secret guilty pleasures he has hidden from the rest of you.

to which he swore up and down that there was nothing he was ashamed of to hide.

"kai, truth or dare?" taehyun's tone was relatively calm, but his unwavering eyes had a part of you feeling rather nervous about what he had planned.

"ummm.." kai glanced at you for some form of reassurance, almost sharing your sense of nerves. "truth?"

"have you ever thought about dating?"

kai's original nervousness faded as he then rolled his eyes, an act that had almost become a routine of his for every time this question was brought up. "oh, come on, don't you guys ever get tired of that question? why can't y/n and i just be friends without you guys bringing up dating every five minutes?"

taehyun smirked.

if this were a game of chess, he'd imagine kai was put in check right about now.

"i just asked if you ever thought about dating in general. you were the one who thought of y/n."

kai opened his mouth to retort, but not a word came out.

after a few seconds had passed, though it truthfully felt like an hour, you finally scoffed. "i'm sorry, but can you blame him? you guys never leave us alone, so obviously kai was going to assume that was just another roundabout way of talking about the two of us."

taehyun lifted his hands in a silent gesture of surrender, wordlessly setting down his metaphorical chess piece as he gave in to the checkmate.

"so does that mean we can rule out kai being the one you crushed on in high school?" beomgyu questioned suddenly, shifting the attention over to himself.

"beomgyu!" soobin hissed, placing his finger to his lips in order to signal for beomgyu to hush.

now it was beomgyu who was holding his hands up in surrender. "what? i can't be the only one who's still thinking about it, right?"

you couldn't help but to laugh, shaking your head in genuine amusement. regardless of the atmosphere, you knew you could always count on beomgyu to lighten the mood in any situation.

eventually, the six of you went back to the game and there were no longer any unnecessary insinuations from the others about your friendship with kai. even when the two of you got extra cuddly after more drinks, their comments remained kept to themselves - though their shared looks were not as secretive as they may have thought.

that was, until later, when you and taehyun found yourselves alone in the kitchen as you were grabbing water bottles for everyone. at least, that's what the two of you originally went into the kitchen for - somehow after discovering a container of dumplings, the two of you ended up sat on the floor instead and eating them together away from the others.

"so what're you going to do when kai starts dating?"

you froze midbite, caught off-guard by the sudden question. you quickly chewed what was in your mouth before turning to stare at taehyun with a perplexed look. "what are you talking about?"

"i'm talking about kai. eventually, he's going to want to start dating," taehyun reiterated for you, his expression unwavering. "if you two always swear up and down that you're just friends, that means he's going to have to be apart from you to get close with someone else. so i was just curious what you were going to do."

you couldn't help but to be taken aback. the thought never really dawned on you before, seeing as you kind of just assumed you and kai would be inseparable.

"why do we have to be apart for him to start dating?" you asked, feeling a small twinge in your heart at the thought.

taehyun sighed, having to remind himself of your codependency on each other. "well, think about it this way. imagine you start dating someone, but they always had to have their best friend around. wouldn't you feel uncomfortable?"

you frowned, painfully realizing the truth to taehyun's explanation. you supposed it would be kind of awkward to always have a third person around in an intimate relationship.

"well, so far, kai and i never had to deal with that problem," you commented, glancing back at taehyun.

taehyun shook his head, unable to suppress the pity in his eyes. "of course you haven't had to deal with it yet. no one approaches either of you because they already assume that you're dating."

another painful point ...

"i'm just saying," taehyun spoke up, shrugging his shoulders as he focused back on grabbing the last dumpling from the container. "if you two really are 'just friends', then you need to be ready for when the other eventually starts dating."

admittedly, it was a little difficult going back to the others after that and acting as if you hadn't been faced with a reality check during, what was supposed to be, a fun night of hanging out together. it was even more difficult having kai wrap his arm around you when all you could imagine was him treating another girl the same exact way.

did that mean you wouldn't be able to be close with him anymore?

of course not.. what girl in their right mind would want to see their boyfriend cuddled up with another girl?

"y/nie, you okay?" kai's gentle voice beside you finally drew you out of your spiraling thoughts, his hand simultaneously reaching up to caress your cheek as he studied your saddened expression.

you forced a smile. "yeah, sorry, i just got lost in thought."

it was more than evident that kai knew you weren't being entirely honest - the two of you have been friends for almost your entire lives, he practically knew you inside and out by this point. of course, he also knew that you would tell him when you were ready, and now was not exactly the best time when you were surrounded by your four other friends.

curse kang taehyun for putting these thoughts in your head. there you were having a great night with your friends, then suddenly you were heartbroken over the thought of losing your best friend when he was still sitting right beside you.

you prayed that both sides of taehyun's pillow ended up being warm for the entire weekend.

"y/n! truth or dare!" beomgyu called out suddenly, reminding you of the game that you had originally been playing before you and taehyun had left for your side quest in the kitchen.

"oh, right, um ... okay, dare."

the game continued on rather normally while you all consumed more drinks, but you honestly couldn't recall many details of what had occurred later on during the night. you remember a lot of giggling and stumbling around, but nothing too specific after that.

although, you do happen to remember vividly clinging onto kai more and more as the night progressed. you started off with simply resting your head on his shoulder to be close to him, but somewhere along the way you ended up on his lap and making the others nauseous as you cuddled up even closer.

"i think i'm going to be sick, and it's not from the alcohol," beomgyu had joked at one point, pretending to gag as he turned away from the sight of you and kai feeding each other gummies.

"you're just jealous," you teased, sticking out your tongue playfully.

a devilish grin adorned beomgyu's features at your words. he tilted his head, now turning the tables around to tease you. "you know what? i am jealous." he patted his lap dramatically. "why don't you come over here and feed me gummies?"

before you could even register how to respond to that, kai's arms had subconsciously tightened around you to keep you in his hold. "no."

you felt your heart leap in your chest at his deadpanned answer, but you couldn't even begin to decipher as to why. you glanced over at kai curiously, trying to judge whether he was being serious or just joking around.

"get your own gummies," kai finished, a humorous smile finally growing on his face.

the two of them seemed to laugh and move on, but why were you still thinking about the way his arms were still held protectively around you? and why was your heart pounding in your chest?

what if it wasn't the gummies that he didn't want to share?

you let your head fall to rest on kai's chest, closing your eyes gently. maybe you just drank too much to think rationally.

୨ ✿ ୧

once it had reached an ungodly hour of the night, and not a single one of you were capable of keeping your eyes open any longer, you each collectively agreed to split off into your respective rooms to sleep.

yeonjun and soobin lived in a three bedroom apartment, thus allowing the six of you to divide evenly into each room every time you all stayed over.

it was an unspoken rule that you and kai were always paired together in the guest bedroom, leaving beomgyu and taehyun to decide which one of them bunked with yeonjun or soobin in their own bedrooms.

tonight, you and kai didn't wait around to see where the two ended up staying. instead, the two of you washed up together in the restroom and headed straight to bed while the others played whatever deciding game they chose.

now, every time the two of you stayed the night together in the older boys' apartment before, you've comfortably been able to share a bed and cuddle together throughout the night without a second thought.

so why do you both suddenly feel so far away from each other?

the two of you were laying on your backs, staring up at the ceiling in a darkened room with only the soft sounds of your breath to fill the silence.

unbeknownst to the other, you were both laying awake and allowing your thoughts to run crazy as you individually processed a few details during the night.

while you were chewing on the inside of your cheek and processing the brief conversation you had with taehyun in the kitchen, kai was consumed with the painful curiosity of wondering which one of them it was that you had once held feelings for.

sure, he was able to feign his nonchalance during the game, but that didn't mean it wasn't still eating him alive.

"hey, can i ask-" you both spoke up simultaneously, only stopping to let out a small laugh at the realization.

"you can go first," you offered, turning your head over in his direction to face him.

he seemed to take a deep breath before turning over to face you as well. since both of your eyes had enough time to adjust to the darkness of the room, you were able to see him rather clearly, thus allowing you to note his oddly nervous expression.

"you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but..." he was hesitating now. "i was just, you know .. wondering..."

his fingers were mindlessly toying with a loose piece of string from the duvet, a small distraction for his hands as he attempted to build up his courage. he could feel his heart practically hammering against his ribcage, and a part of him feared that you could hear it as well.

God, did he even want to know?

"beomgyu."

his heart plummeted into his stomach. "..what?"

"it was beomgyu," you chuckled lightly, completely unaware of the way kai's throat had practically run dry. "that's what you wanted to ask, right?"

he nodded, seemingly incapable of forming any words at the moment. there was this strange feeling in his chest that felt like a weight had been placed on it, but he could not understand why he would feel like this.

"it was only for, like, three days, though," you clarified, feeling a sudden urge to reassure him. "it was when he was elected class president for our year. i think i mostly just built this image of him in my head to be like those k-dramas we always watch."

truth be told, kai only half-listened to what you were saying. once he heard that it was beomgyu who had once been a subject of your feelings, his mind subconsciously wandered off to start comparing himself to his older friend.

but why?

"did you fall asleep on me?" you asked suddenly, your soft voice finally drawing him out of his self-deprecating thoughts.

"no, sorry, i was just... lost in thought," he answered, repeating the same excuse that you had used on him earlier in the evening. he cleared his throat now, wanting to move on desperately from this topic. "so what was your question?"

you were grateful to the darkness for covering the blush that had suddenly graced your cheeks. now that it came time to actually ask him, you no longer had any desire to know the answer.

"oh, it was nothing, nevermind. it was a stupid question," you quickly dismissed it, waving your hand in the air as if to physically brush off the question.

without even realizing it, kai's instinctive nature had him reaching for your hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. an action that should be relatively normal for the two of you suddenly causing your heart rate to speed up unnaturally.

"hey, don't say that. you know you can ask me anything," kai reassured you, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand.

you had to swallow down the lump that had formed in your throat. somehow his hand in yours made the question even more difficult to ask than before.

you took a deep breath, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. you couldn't remember a time before where you had ever felt scared to be open with kai.

"have- have you ever thought about dating anyone?"

once the question had escaped your lips, you ultimately regretted it. you no longer had any desire of wanting to know the answer to that question, afraid that kai would suddenly agree that the two of you should start spending less time together.

"honestly?"

fuck, here it comes...

"honestly, no," kai answered genuinely. "its never really crossed my mind before."

"why not?"

you could see his outline shrug through the darkness. "i don't know. i guess i've just always been so happy with you that i never needed another person in my life."

your heart was practically swelling in your chest as you felt your face grow ten times warmer than it's normal temperature, though a frown still remained on your lips as a sudden new sense of guilt filled your chest after further thought.

"but don't you want someone you can be affectionate with?"

kai chuckled, shaking his head. "i think we're plenty affectionate with each other, yeah?" he lifted up your hands to make a point, noting that they had yet to separate from being entwined with each other.

you scoffed, rolling your eyes - despite the fact that he couldn't quite see the action. "you know what i mean! i mean someone you can actually, you know... kiss.. and be intimate with." your voice grew quieter as you finished your sentence, feeling shy and embarrassed for even bringing it up.

the room felt like someone had turned up the heater by ten degrees, increasing this unknown tension that was settling between the two of you.

"but we have kissed before, remember?" you could practically hear the smirk that was on his face as he adjusted his position in bed to lay on his side and face you directly.

you let out a laugh, shaking your head before turning to face him with a humorous grin. "i don't think it counts when we were seven."

he laughed with you for a moment before returning to the original topic. "i know, i know. but i'm serious. i guess i just always saw us as inseparable, so i never really considered being apart from you to get to know anyone else."

"do you want to?"

the two of you were facing each other entirely now, the space between you both having suddenly minimized dramatically from before - only your interlocked hands separating the two of you from practically brushing noses.

"do you want to?"

no... no, absolutely not. there was no one else in this world who could ever remotely compare to kai in the slightest, much less replace him.

of course, a part of you was far too shy to voice such thoughts out loud, leaving you to simply shake your head in response instead.

"then i don't either." his voice was as low as a whisper, eliciting your heart to leap in your chest.

you couldn't pinpoint when it happened exactly, but the energy in the room had definitely shifted. there was something unspoken in the air that neither of you were quite confident enough to address, too afraid of how the other may react.

which left you both to lay in silence, gazing shyly at one another while your hearts unknowingly raced in sync.

after what felt like centuries had passed, the soft shuffling sound of movement broke the deafening silence. of course, what you hadn't expected was for the movement to signify kai leaning in closer... and closer.

you could smell the peppermint from the toothpaste as you felt his soft breath hit your face, fully aware of the way his lips were now only a mere centimeter from your own.

"wait-"

in a matter of seconds, after you impulsively voiced your hesitancy, it was like he was suddenly farther away than before.

kai had sat up so quickly when he registered your voice, feeling absolutely disgusted with himself for daring to make such a move without ensuring you were comfortable.

of course he read the room wrong... he just got too far ahead of himself in the moment...

"no, you're right, i'm so sorry," he was rambling so quickly, you were barely able to make out a word. "i shouldn't have done that, i don't know what i was thinking. i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, i'm so sorry."

you had to reach out for his arm in order to stop him from leaving. he had already thrown off the blanket and was preparing to leave the room entirely, uttering apology after apology as he stood up from the bed completely.

your heart physically ached at the sight – all because you couldn't keep your mouth shut for one more second.

"no, kai, listen to me.." you finally managed to get out, positioning yourself to sit up on your knees in front of him as you desperately clung to his arm to prevent him from leaving you. "that wasn't what i meant."

he gulped, thankful for the darkness that you couldn't make out the tear that had escaped and was now racing down his cheek. he was not really one to be emotional like this, but he was scared.

he was scared that he ruined everything.

you were the last person he ever wanted to lose, so to think he could have messed it all up with one wrong move...

"i said 'wait' because... i've never actually kissed anyone before," you admitted through an embarrassed mumble, your heart pounding in your chest from the nerves. you wondered if he could feel the way your hand was shaking.

he guided your hand from his arm, gently pressing it up to his cheek and leaning into your touch. he chuckled ever so softly, the sound erupting butterflies in your stomach that you hadn't ever felt before.

his voice was gentle and delicate, perfectly easing your concern. "i haven't either, remember?"

with him still holding your hand up to his cheek, you absent-mindedly begin to caress his cheek with your thumb. your heart was most definitely on the verge of beating right out of your chest, but you no longer cared.

here you were, in front of your best friend, with these newfound feelings stirring in your chest. although you couldn't quite understand or make sense of all of them, you did know one thing for sure.

you really wanted to kiss him.

this time, you were confident enough to lean in. you had originally imagined the experience to be much more romantic, but it appeared that your lips only just managed to make contact with the corner of his mouth - having missed your original target amidst the darkness.

the two of you instantly burst into a fit of giggles, resting your foreheads against one another as you processed the moment. you were mostly reacting out of embarrassment, but kai found it to be extremely endearing.

your giggles were cut short as you felt kai's hand gently cradle your jaw, silencing you as his lips perfectly made contact with your own.

there wasn't much movement, seeing as you both weren't exactly the most experienced, but there was still a spark of electricity that sent shivers down your spine.

you giggled against his lips as he broke into a shy grin, pulling away ever so slightly. "i'm sorry, i'm- i'm not good at this."

you shook your head quickly, cupping both sides of his face gently with your hands. "no, don't say that. we both just need practice, that's all."

with a newfound confidence, kai snaked his arms around your waist to pull you close to his chest, once again making you grateful for the darkened room hiding the intense blush that was certainly coloring your face right about now. "you'll help me practice, right?"

you could only nod, taking the opportunity to connect your lips together once more and reveling in the way it felt to kiss your best friend - your other half, truly.

the kiss lasted much longer this time. despite you being the one to initiate it, kai was the one to deepen the kiss and fill the room with the intimate sounds.

once the two of you pulled away to catch your breaths, you smirked in response.

"what are best friends for?"

masterlist

a/n:

i needed to desperately give in to writing fluff with kai because myGOD i've just been feeling so deeply for him lately 😭 i apologize for working on this over ydgtp, but i needed to get this out so bad. i could probably do a pt. 2 of sorts.. but i like it how it is so maybe not.

pls let me know what you think !! and i promise to go back to writing pt. 8 🤩

~

permanent taglist:

@human-misery @dongmeiii @softcabur @marekmybeloved @aishidaishi @taekwondoes @wccycc @jjhmk @mjlasagna @eclecticeggknightpsychic @yjusei @beachbabe4ever @laylasbunbunny

[borathae]

Babybun

"Jungkook wakes you and Yoongi in the middle of the night, asking for help after an intense wet dream, which left him so, so needy for your touches. You and Yoongi instantly jump in to help him. He is your beloved babybun after all." 

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader x Jungkook

Genre: established relationship!AU, polyamory!AU, Smut

Warnings: cutest sub!Jungkook, soft Daddy Dom!Yoongi, soft Mommy Dom!Reader, threesome, cozy sex under the blanket, they’re both teases, he is so neeeedyyyy, like so fucking needy, he is in the coziest subspace, kisses, neck kisses, thigh kisses, tummy kisses, hihi kisses <3, talks about wet dreams, implied male masturbation, implied multiple orgasms (Koo having), nursing handjob aka he sucks on her breasts while Yoongi jerks him off, in spooning position hngngn, he is so happy and cozy being their subby babyboy, subby boy tears, bodyworship, praise, nipple sucking, cuddles and snuggles for aftercare, they love him so much!

Wordcount: 3.3k

a/n: you guys asked for more soft and smutty throuple content and i am here delivering heheh istfg i love writing for them :( they are so perfect for each other and they are so cozy to write for, gosh i love them :( have fun besties hehe ily 💛

Yoongi is holding you in his sleep, sharing his blanket and pillow with you. His bed is huge, easily able to house four people comfortably, and yet you and he still somehow always end up snuggled together. You were the one seeking affection tonight, cuddling up to him in your sleep. You woke him up with it accidentally, but darling Yoongi merely took you into his arms, kissed your forehead and fell asleep again with a fond smile on his lips.

Now you are both slumbering deeply. You with your head on Yoongi’s shoulder, drooling on it and him with one hand cradling the back of your head and his cheek nuzzled against the crown of your head. How comfortable you both are. How deeply you sleep.

How cruel it feels when someone drags you from it. In loud whispers and desperate shakes of your bodies.

Yoongi wakes first, lifting his head slightly. He wanted to curse at whoever disturbed his peace, but changes his mind upon seeing a very distressed Jungkook by his bedside.

“Bun? What’s wrong?” he asks in a raspy voice, clearing it.

“Hyung”, Jungkook gets out weakly. 

“What’s wrong, bub?”

Yoongi sits up slightly, waking you with the movement. You sit up as well, whining sleepily.

“Boongie, huggies.”

“Kook’s here.”

“What?”

You squint your eyes into the darkness. You can’t see anything except two red dots by Yoongi’s side of the bed blinking at you.

You roll over multiple times until you reach your bedside lamp, turning it on. 

Yoongi was right. Jungkook is here. Wearing no shirt and with the bun he puts his hair in for sleep tilted to the right side. His bangs already spilled out of the hairstyle.

“What’s wrong, Kookie?” you ask him, shimmying back to where Yoongi is. You rest your cheek against his arm because you were still very sleepy.

“I had a dream.”

“Oh no, a bad dream?”

Jungkook shakes his head, “a dirty dream. I, I can’t make it go down.”

You and Yoongi look down at the same time. Jungkook isn’t wearing any pants either. His thighs and stomach are messy from previous orgasms, but his cock looked as if it was never pleasured before. It is still hard and flushed to the point it almost looks blue. 

“Damn, Kook.”

“I’m sorry. I know I’m so annoying, but I dreamt about you two and I just”  he sniffles, “please can you help me?” 

You and Yoongi exchange a look. You are thinking the same thing. Neither of you could fall back asleep with the knowledge that your baby needed help. 

You shimmy back to make space. Yoongi opens the blanket.

“Come here, bun.”

“Really?” Jungkook gasps, faltering in standing up.

“Yes baby, come here”, you encourage him.

“Oh god.”

Jungkook climbs over Yoongi and lays himself down in the warm, cozy nest you created. He is on his back, looking up at you and Yoongi with sparkling eyes. You and he scoot closer, sharing the warm blanket with your pretty boy. You cradle his face, while Yoongi caresses his torso.

Jungkook exhales shakily, shivering from the attention. 

“Do you wanna tell us what you dreamed about?” you ask him in a soft voice.

Jungkook nods his head, gazing into your eyes submissively.

“I dreamed of you, Mommy.”

“Of me? What was I doing, babyboy?” 

“You were kissing my neck.”

“Like this?” 

Jungkook arches his back, rolling his head to the side as best as possible to allow your soft lips space. He is shivering and writhing, mewling sweetly. Your lips are so soft. Jungkook swears he is truly in a dream right now.

“Like this, baby?” you ask him as your lips ghost over his most loved spots.

“Yes, Mommy. Ah.” 

Yoongi places a kiss to Jungkook’s shoulder, then watches you worship him with fond eyes. Jungkook’s cheeks are flushed, his brows furrowed and his pink lips parted. How pretty his baby looks when he gets loved so well. Yoongi can’t control his feelings and reaches out to trace Jungkook’s features with the back of his head.

“You’re so handsome, bun. Was I in the dream as well?”

“Yes, Daddy”, Jungkook mewls.

“What was I doing, mhm?”

“Licking my nipples.”

Yoongi purrs and slips under the blanket to make Jungkook’s dream a reality. He uses his fingers to play with the one he currently doesn’t have in his mouth, changing sides every now and then. Jungkook feels insanely out of breath because of it. Getting neck kisses is already lethal, but getting his nipples licked at the same is truly his end.

You and Yoongi work perfectly around each other, touching and kissing your sweet babyboy because he deserves it. Every now and then, it just so happens that your fingers brush against each other and you hold hands for but a second. It is so nice to know that you are sharing this moment of worship. The mewls Jungkook lets out are no surprise. The way he constantly gasps and fights for air is expected. Poor boy must have been so worked up from his dream. You and Yoongi can only imagine how desperately he touched himself, how he tried and tried and tried to make the ache go away only to realise that no matter how much he tried, he would still stay horny. Knowing Jungkook, he must have taken a long time to decide on whether he should disturb you or not. But in the end, his yearning was bigger. 

How cute of him to leave his wing naked and messy just because he missed your affection too much.

“Stop, please.”

You and Yoongi lift your heads simultaneously. Yoongi reappears from the blanket with messy hair and glossy lips. 

“What’s the matter, bun?”

“It’s too much, I can’t do this.”

“Too much, mhm. What should we do with you, mhm? Were you that sensitive in your dream too?” 

Jungkook nods his head, whimpering shyly.

“Course you were. What did we do about it?”

“You licked my tummy and my thighs.”

“Good boy, keep telling us.”

You and Yoongi disappear under the blanket, licking Jungkook where he needed it. You and he purr and moan in bliss, lapping up the mess Jungkook made. He tastes sweet. His skin is silky soft and smooth, feeling wonderful under your tongues. How perfect of him to make such a mess. How delicious he is.

And Jungkook is a mess in another sense. He gasps and gasps and gasps, arching his entire lower back off the sheets repeatedly. It definitely didn’t feel that good in his dream. Your tongues are both so warm and soft and wet. Jungkook swears he might actually go up in flames. 

You and Yoongi reach his hipbones. One lick by each is enough. One lick and Jungkook thrusts his hips into nothing, spilling the thickest and sweetest excitement and moaning so loudly it is as if someone sunk into him.

You and Yoongi exchange a look. This is new. Jungkook always reacts heavily to your touches, but never with such ecstasy. This is it. His sweet spot. You and Yoongi intertwine hands, communicating without words. You both stay at the spot, licking and kissing his hipbones while Jungkook moans as if he was being fucked senseless. 

Soon you can watch in delight how his hand closes around his cock to pump it. He isn’t even aware that he is doing it, but all this thrusting and writhing made his cock rub against the sheets. Paired with the attention to his hip bones, and Jungkook is utterly gone. He needs to touch his cock, throwing his head back as he does.

“Mommy….Daddy…..ah, thank you….”

Another look gets exchanged between you and Yoongi. You are thinking the same thing. Yoongi places his hand around Jungkook’s and stops his movements with little effort.

“Please”, Jungkook begs, but all the begging won’t give him what he needs. Yoongi keeps his hand tight around his hand, keeping it still this way. And all Jungkook gets is warm pressure around his base. It isn’t enough to give him what he craves and so he is destined to repeatedly whisper his begs for more. Which obviously aren’t fulfilled yet.

You and Yoongi kiss your way down to Jungkook’s thighs. He parts them instantly, throbbing in Yoongi’s constricting touch. 

“Please.”

“Mhhm”, you answer him in purrs, kissing what he so willingly presents.

His thighs are so huge and muscular. So warm and soft. And so full of cum. You lick them clean thoroughly and happily, moaning in bliss. Jungkook starts off quietly with little gasps and sighs, but by the end of it, he is whining. Loudly. And desperately. His thighs are wet from your tongues, his cock is huge and bruised from not being touched and his head is so dizzy that he feels as if he was on a endless carousel. 

“Please stop it, please”, he squeaks out.

You and Yoongi appear instantly, both messy and heated up from the blanket. Your lips are both glossy, your eyes darkened in hunger.

“Had enough, mhm?” Yoongi asks, slipping his hand from Jungkook’s cock. 

Jungkook nods his head vigorously.

“Touch me please.” He looks at Yoongi submissively. “Please Daddy, please.”

Yoongi smiles fondly, “and what should Mommy do in the meantime?”

Jungkook glances at your clothed chest.

“Uhm…oh god, I don’t wanna say. It’s so dirty.”

“Say it, bun. We can only help you if you’re honest with us.”

“In, in my dream I sucked Mommy’s nipples while Daddy was touching me.”

You and Yoongi smile.

“Good job, babyboy.”

You take off your shirt and throw it to the side. Jungkook gasps out a starstruck “wow”, gazing at you.

Yoongi purrs and reaches over Jungkook to massage your breasts gently.

“You’re so beautiful, my princess love”, he rasps, earning himself a fond smile. 

He ends his affection with a soft kiss to your lips then you settle into the next position. You lie down on your side, welcoming Jungkook who instantly begins sucking on your breasts as he melts into your hug. He sounds so overwhelmingly happily that his noises are close to sobs. But he is happy. Really happy. And comfortable. And cozy. And so entirely vulnerable. He is currently entirely dependent on you and Yoongi. There is no autonomous thought in his brain, no desire to decide for himself. He is utterly and entirely existing for you and Yoongi. 

So when Yoongi spoons him and begins kissing his shoulder, Jungkook almost cries. When seconds later, Yoongi begins touching his cock in the position, Jungkook actually cries. 

He shakes and shivers, seeking your embrace while his hips roll into Yoongi’s fist.

“I know baby, I know. That feels good doesn’t it?” you talk to him, gazing at Yoongi’s face so cozily snuggled into Jungkook’s shoulder. You can see that he has his eyes closed and you can watch the muscles in his arms flex as he moves his hand around Jungkook’s cock. 

You reach out to run your fingers through Yoongi’s soft hair. He falters for a second only to catch himself and look at you over Jungkook’s shoulder. You smile at him, telling him silently that you think he was beautiful right now. Yoongi returns the smile and snuggles back into Jungkook’s shoulder to kiss it repeatedly. His hand speeds up around Jungkook’s cock, forcing loud mewls out of the sweet man.

“Does it feel good, babyboy? Is Daddy touching you how you like it?”

Jungkook nods his head, drooling all over your nipple. He can’t talk because you fucked him non-verbal.

“Of course he does. Such a sweet boy, being in our arms like this. Keep doing so well baby, you are doing so well.”

“So well”, Yoongi agrees, “love how perfect your pretty cock feels.”

Jungkook kicks the sheets slightly, grasping you for help. His drool is all over your breasts by now, he can’t seem to decide whether he wants to lick or suck. He is so completely gone, leaking all over Yoongi’s hand as well.

“Aw I know baby, you’re such a sweet boy”, you coo at him as you feel his submissive noises against your skin.

“Mommy’s right. You’re such a sweet boy for us. You’ve got the prettiest cock, bunbun. So leaky and sensitive”, Yoongi purrs, playing with Jungkook’s tip.

Jungkook exhales and it sounds so exhausted and ruined. He inhales and scratches your back, croaking out a helpless “Mommy…Daddy…” before taking your nipples back into his mouth. He is sucking them, having given up on licking them entirely. The sucking motion is way too comforting for Jungkook not to get lost in it. It is also the only thing helping him through the unbearable pleasure Yoongi makes him feel. Yoongi is so good in what he does. His hand is so big and his fingers so long that it closes around so much of Jungkook’s cock. The pressure is perfect, the speed as well. Yoongi knows exactly what Jungkook needs and it overwhelms him so much that all which helps is the comfort of your breasts. 

Jungkook shakes, wiggling his legs and grinding his butt into Yoongi’s crotch. He managed to get his Daddy hard. Jungkook shakes even more at the aspect, grinding back against him harder.

“Don’t be scared, bunbun. We’ve got you”, Yoongi assures him, massaging his tip in throbbing motions. He knows that his boy likes when he does that. Jungkook always moans especially sweetly when he does it. He is also not numb to his needy grinds, finding it just a little difficult to stay collected. Jungkook’s butt feels really fucking good against his cock and his big thighs are so cute as they keep rubbing against his own thighs.

Jungkook whimpers.

“We’ve got you, baby”, you assure him.

It’s too much. All of it. Jungkook loves the comfort of your breasts so much that his head is turning. For the longest time, he wasn’t aware of how much he loved it until one cozy autumn eve where he found himself snuggled into them. You were reading a book and he was doing nothing, being bored. So he laid on your chest while you played with his hair. You were so soft and comfortable that something inside him changed. He suddenly needed your breasts in his mouth. And so he begged you and you allowed him. Back then,  it was innocent at first, just a moment of comforting intimacy between you and him. It was sweet and cozy and nice, until desire hit. You ended up underneath him while he topped you teary eyed and snotty in the middle of the shared sitting room, thanking you over and over again for “being his pretty Mommy” and for “making him feel so good.” 

Ever since that day, Jungkook has been obsessed with having your breasts in his mouth. It turns him submissive and droopy, completely shuts off his brain and makes him so sensitive that he can’t take whatever is done to him. 

Tonight is no exception. Paired with the warm nest he is in, being cuddled by two of his favourite people, being constantly praised and being touched by Yoongi. There is no way in hell, Jungkook could have lasted a long time. 

Yoongi is able to do three more strokes and then Jungkook breaks with such intensity, Yoongi actually startles. 

Jungkook goes cross-eyed despite having them closed. He scratches you harder and sucks on your nipple with such vigour, you can literally feel how he bruises it.

But you bite back for his sake, scratching his scalp as he shoots all over your stomach. 

“Good boy. Such a good boy”, you praise him.

“Cum for us, bun. We’re so proud of you” Yoongi talks him through it and together you help him experience the most intense body and soul orgasm. The kind which actually changes the trajectory of one’s life and which makes one wonder how on earth one was able to survive before it.

Jungkook shakes and shakes and shakes, finally finding the kind of release he needed. He cries snot and tears, finding it difficult to breathe. He feels so small, so fragile and easily abusable. And it’s not scary because he is safe in your arms. He is being loved and cared for. 

Jungkook doesn’t want to stop sucking your nipple after his high died down. He is still twitching and trembling, sobbing and sniffling as he sucks on your breasts needily. It hurts on your end. He managed to make them so sore that it gets uncomfortable.

“Stop it now, baby”, you tell him and hiss in pain, “it’s getting really sore.”

Yoongi lifts his head instantly, studying the honest discomfort on your features.

He buries his hand in Jungkook’s ruined hair and tugs. Like magic, Jungkook lets off your nipple, allowing Yoongi to drag him away and into a kiss. He wants to suck and lick? Yoongi is going to give him something else to suckle on. He purrs happily, caressing Jungkook’s cheeks as the latter sucks and licks his lips and tongue needily. It is almost instinct. As if the only option bringing him peace is sucking.

And while Yoongi lets Jungkook find comfort in the sloppy kiss, you check on your nipples. Hard and swollen and seriously bruised. You can’t even touch them without feeling the need to flinch back. Wearing clothes is going to be difficult for the next few days.

“Shit. So sore.”

Yoongi looks up, still kissing Jungkook. He reaches out with his messied hand, caressing you under your sore breasts. You give him a grateful smile, melting under his touch. He is always so gentle with you.

Yoongi closes his eyes and concentrates back on his Jungkook. He hugs him and tilts his head back to kiss him deeper. So much deeper. To the point where Jungkook asks himself how he was ever able to exist without the two of you by his side. 

Once the kiss breaks, their lips are both puffy and glossy. Jungkook’s lower lip trembles a little, but Yoongi wipes it away gently.

“No more tears, my little prince. We’re so proud of you.”

“Hyung”, Jungkook presses out in a broken voice. 

“I know, bub. Don’t worry, we’re here.”

Jungkook sniffles, looking at you next. He studies your chest.

“Mommy”, he croaks, tearing up in guilt.

“I’m alright. Just a little sore”, you assure him and pinch his cheek, “you cute little munch you.”

Jungkook giggles, hiding away in the pillow. You and Yoongi cuddle closer, touching his drained body gently. He melts in relaxation, letting out sighs of comfort.

“Mommy? Daddy?” he whispers.

“Yes, bun?” “Yes, babyboy?”

“Please don’t send me away.”

“Gosh baby, don’t worry. You can stay. Come here.” You lie down and let him hide in your chest. “Careful of my nipples though.”

“I’m so sorry, Mommy. What can I do to make it better?”

“Just be comfortable, okay?” 

“Yes, Mommy.” He snuggles into you. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“It’s okay, baby. I’m not mad at you. Just relax now, baby. You did nothing wrong.”

“Okay, Mommy”, he sighs, feeling so warm in his chest.

Yoongi snuggles into Jungkook’s back, playing with his pubes mindlessly.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“For what, bun?”

“I made a mess in your sheets.”

“That’s okay, bun. We’ll make a bigger mess of ‘em tomorrow morning.”

“Boongie, what are you planning?”

“Just something good. Once my body isn’t one second away from sleep.”

“Yeah, true”, you agree with a yawn. “Can’t wait to get sleeping again. Tonight’s such a good night to sleep.”

“Mmh definitely”, Yoongi agrees, placing his hand on your waist so he was holding both you and Jungkook. 

Jungkook melts between you and Yoongi, finally feeling sleepy as well.

“I love you, Mommy and Daddy”, he whispers quietly.

“We love you too, babybun.”

“Mhm, we love you.”

“Thank you for helping me”, he barely gets the words out because his body finally reached his ruin.

“Anytime, babybun.”

Jungkook falls asleep moments later, completely and entirely ruined but so, so happy. He knew that coming to you and Yoongi for help would be the right idea. You will always take care of him. Even when he is stupid and small and snotty in submission.

[melankkholy]

a christmas secret

✎ If you knew your boyfriend turned out to be such an asshole, you wouldn't even look at him in the first place. You'd have called off the engagement, of course, but you chose to stay for the sake of someone who sweetened your days and that someone is none other than your fiancé's brother. Leon.

cw: MDNI, shameless smut, p in v, cheatingz!, unprotected segs goes hard ngl, bre3ding mayhaps, family drama aka kennedy family is the new kardashians, not proofread, sorry, praise kink, stomach bulge!, finger!ng, fem! reader, MDNI

For Leon, this Christmas is overly festive, too much of an extravaganza. He has always hated family gatherings and has always been the type of boy who would retreat to his room after grabbing his share of the dishes his mother cooked for the house guests. No girls to bring home for his parents, no serious talks with them at all, and the concept of marriage has always been a total can of worms. For him there was Ada and the many nights he shared with her, nights of “oh, yeah. We fuck each other, and we don’t put a name to it.” This was more than enough for him but nothing to last forever.  

Until one day the tide completely turned the night he happened to meet you. He was quite surprised when he heard that his little brother, the one he thought was nothing but a good-for-nothing, had finally met “the one” a year ago. Quite frankly, all Leon could think of was a body mass with every known sexual disease in the world collectively stored in his nuts and sperm. Yes, he was clearly not very fond of his brother.  

He did, though, at the request of his father and mother, show up at last year’s get-to-know-the-new-girl-in-law dinner.  

And that was the night he saw you for the first time. The truth of the matter is you were far out of his brother’s league, along with the girls from all over the States, but Leon could only see an incapable man next to a pretty girl like you. Still, for the sake of pretending to be the good brother, he did the laughing and ate the food cooked that night. He pulled off a good Kennedy act, the best version of Kennedy his father could muster. Whatever his brother was, Leon was the opposite, and his father couldn’t have asked for anything more. He didn’t care what exactly was going on between his sons. The Dad of the Year, absolutely.  

Nobody could blame the old Kennedy. Leon was alright. Whatever. The other boy, however, is the equivalent of a child who was supposed to be jettisoned from the beginning and who, despite the condoms and the pills, was still accidentally conceived one night. He’s the headache itself. The only problem is that he has been so fucking blind to see this kind of unpleasantness and discomfort he has created for years. The guy lives in his own fantasy world.  

How he found someone like you is a veiled story behind the scenes.  

Leon really wanted to ask, quite a few times, but something stopped him, and the subject remained like a chest of unspoken family secrets. It went as far as getting your engagement with his brother.  

It was only a summer night when Leon found you crying alone by the pool outside the house that the tables were turned. The mother of your tears: his moronic brother. But why? Because he will never understand you. Thinking that you might actually find true love now seemed like a rookie mistake to you. So you cried. For Leon, it was just sad. Who knows how many times he had to comfort and sometimes even hug his brother’s female friends?  

Oh, and of course there was also the part of providing the most important detail that his brother was missing. Fucking those pretty girls. Hugs and heart-to-heart talks always led to the same thing. You, like the other girls, had found yourself in the same trap—the trap you had willingly walked yourself into—on top of him on a night of poolside fucking in a lounge chair. Doesn’t that make Leon an asshole? Perhaps, but at least Leon’s the kind of guy who has a sense of reverence for the women he sleeps with, whereas his brother... Well, Leon can’t find the right words in English for that guy.  

No beating around the bush, Leon wants the same thing tonight. The sex. Your sex. Why would he come to this stupid Christmas dinner anyway? For you, that’s the answer. Couple that with the fact that his job has kept him away from you for a couple of weeks—from the scattered things in life he likes to do—and you’ve got a man who’s been feeling peckish for many weeks.  

“Come on, big boy. Jus’ have a bite to eat.”  

Leon’s brother’s soused tones interrupt the eye contact between you and Leon, the one that has been covertly lingering on and off. He’s a piece of shit. It’s scarcely seven, and already he’s drunk as a doornail.  

Like a demented child, he leans over the table and brings his fork to Leon’s mouth, making artificial train noises in midair.  

“Now, now, my boy. Show me your mouth. Honk hooooooonk! Toot toot!”  

Your beloved fiancé forces the fork into Leon’s lips, which are pressed together to smooth matters over despite the sour expression on Leon’s face, as if he had just bitten into a lemon, and he doesn’t do much to hide it.  

At this point in your life, what could be more embarrassing than witnessing your fiancé doing this in front of all his relatives? And that’s coming from you—someone who usually doesn’t give a shit about relatives.  

Mercifully, Leon’s father saves the day when he raises a full glass of wine to draw the attention of the guests at the table to him.  

“Here’s to my beautiful family and to many happy years with them. With you guys. I love you all.”  

A sweet harmonization prevails around the table courtesy of this man. At least the eyes are where they should be, on the table, on the food, on whatever the good things are. What of your eyes? They are hunting for certain shades of blue, and when they locate them, the same kind of serene smile sits on his lips as on yours.  

Why is it that you feel so safe around him, but so bare around his brother and his kin? He’s their blood, but he acts just the way you always need him to be.  

Blending into your vista and turning the picture upside down, a red face suddenly intervenes between you and Leon. As it always does.  

“Heyyy.” He orates garishly and kisses your cheek.  

That’s not serious. Why must he butt his nose into absolutely everything? Sometimes you just want to throw away the ring and give a basket, then spit in his face and run like hell.  

Apart from the striking blue gaze, far away from Leon’s gaze, your fiancé’s attention is focused on you. More precisely, down your cleavage, or even exactly at the low-cut level.  

“What?”  

“What what what?” He’s parroting you, yammering.  

“Stop drinking like a horse and quit clowning around.”  

“Why? Tits the size of my head—”  

“Why don’t you shut your mouth? There are kids around. Screw you.” You look askance at him, but all to no avail. Yes, everything happens out of the prying eyes of the relatives—except for one person (Leon!), you and your fiancé are bickering at the mouths of each other. An outsider would even make a compliment about your idealistic relationship, saying something like—what a romantic lovebird these two are."

“Ha. Nice.” Your lover almost burps with a bitter taste on his tongue. In your face. “Huh. How about making them new cousins?” And as if his sobriety wasn’t already bad enough, he, of course, dares to dare to think about anything that pertains to his dick. What an idiot. Like he can even fuck you. This guy has been dead for some time. The alcohol does that shit, he says, but he’s always been all thumbs, dick down.  

“Get lost. Seriously. I’m on my period, anyway.” You lie, and within a split second your fiancé responds with a horrified scowl that is woven across his face like a tapestry. Of course you’re engaged to a misogynist and a guy who’s allergic to the subject of menstruation.  

“Yuck. No way. ‘m going to go now.”  

“What? Where to?”  

He stands up heedlessly, scrambling up the chair with the back of his shoe as you pelt him with a barrage of follow-up questions.  

“Hey, guys! I’m outta here.”  

He waves to everyone like a famous singer at a concert hailing his fans from the stage.  

This fucking guy...  

The assembled folks watch in silence for a spell as your fiancé staggers along in a drunken swagger. Even Leon watches him, and he knew from the moment he received the invitation that he was going to be subjected to such a moonstruck stunt. More or less, he could have guessed that the main character would be his stupid, dickhead of a brother.  

You try to recover from this situation with a short ha! of laughter without even letting the situation escalate into a real problem. “He’s too busy. Even on New Year’s Eve. Got... a call... from work. Yeah. He did—God. What a man. He makes me so proud.”  

What a shock.

Leon’s holding his laughter like it’s a sneeze at your eye-watering performance. Turns out everyone in this house who has or is about to have the last name Kennedy is always obliged to deal with the chaos created by that mindless pain in the ass. Tonight was no different from any other disaster, and Leon knows you’re a real Kennedy now.

“Yes, indeed. He’s just recently qualified. The boy is quite overwhelmed with business.” Mrs. Kennedy, sitting next to Leon and across from her husband, is quick to gloss over her young son’s asinine mistakes. It’s hard not to admire her as she does so. It’s her aura that speaks, not her, and it’s at that particular minute that you decide that some of Leon’s facial features descend from her. Like mother, like son.  

The table stills after another parental rescue drill. Not a bad kind of night, you might say. The conversation circulates. You make the acquaintance of people who aren’t so black and white. Turns out the Kennedy bloodline isn’t all bad, sort of. American as apple pie, Italian as... pizza?  

All this talking, socializing, and blah blah blah goes right through your social battery. That’s enough people and new faces. It wouldn’t hurt to venture out into the garden and catch some air. Maybe light a cigarette. You never know.  

Excusing yourself from the throngs of people, you finally step out of the back door of the kitchen through the patio door leading to the backyard.

The bracing air from yesterday’s foot-deep snow is wafting sweetly across your face. The ground beneath your feet is still dewy, and the caked snow sticks to your soles. Too much on your mind to give a crap. That stupid boyfriend of yours is the culprit of it all. Easy.

Raising the joint in your hand, you roll a cigarette and cradle it between your lips. You dig in your pocket for the lighter you think is in your dress pocket, but no luck so far.

Within a scant few seconds, the gentle gusts of breeze blow into waves of bone-chilling cold and spray your skin under the thin fabric of your dress. Silly you are. It’s a recipe for disaster to be going out in such weather without even putting on a single jacket.

You’re kicking yourself from the inside.  

Luckily, the sliding door behind you flings to the side. It’s none other than your soon-to-be brother-in-law. Squinting at you in the twilight, as if he’s judging you. Yes, yes, yes, yes. What a way to be out in the cold, damn it. He most likely will lecture you. You know the drill.

“Is this the way to go out in this cold, sweetheart?”  

Called it!  

You just shrug your shoulders, and Leon lines up next to you. He looks at the cigarette between your lips with a bogus hint of titter. “You know these things will kill you.”

What a wiseass.

As you flick your lighter, he takes off his brown jacket, which you think is new and pretty. He looks good with it.

Unexpectedly, the gesture is a small token from his heart. He slides the jacket over your shoulders, and you notice the flashes of sparkles that fill his eyes. Tonight, especially after yesterday’s bellowing of flaky snow, there is a distinctive gale in his eyes under the arch of the constellations and the blue-gray moon—like two small globes of blue-sky moon.  

“You must really like staring at me.”  

This man is a dab hand at deflecting attention with a comment that will definitely ruin the whole moment. It must be a family thing, you decide.  

“No, I’m surprised. Look at you looking like such a show-off. You’ll catch cold.” Your voice is laughable and blurred from the cigarette between your lips.  

“Don’t even think about it.”  

Just as you’re about to take the jacket off you and return it to his arms, Leon holds you by the arm and then intercepts you. Doesn’t take you seconds to register that you have been missing his touch all along in your memory. It’s so distant yet so fresh.  

The stillness of the night falls between you, leaving a familiar glow inside your bones—white and aurelian. It’s all the same to Leon. Moments like these are potentially precarious, and it’s usually Leon who does something to diffuse the situation in those peak seconds of emotional overload. Practical wit.  

He takes the lighter from the palm of your hand and with a few flicks, ignites the cigarette’s stub. His free hand instinctively cups around the bluish, wavering flame. He watches and waits until you take a drag — notwithstanding the sharp, burning wallop searing through his palm. Worth it, he figures. The agony in his hand is only temporary, a demising singe. Yet the fire inside you? That’s something else, something you both share. You’re burning in your lungs. He’s burning in his hand. Unquestionably, with an esoteric surrender. 

“Thanks.” You exhale away from him. In his case, Leon fiddles idly with the same lighter. He looks contemplative.  

Must be an acquired connotation to that expression on his face. Sometimes you really wonder what on earth is going on in his head. You would have sacrificed your fiancé to cut open Leon’s head and find out what’s going on inside his head during such hush-hush intervals, really. It wouldn’t be half bad. The world would be rid of a piece of shit, and eventually, you would have peeled back the layers and understood who Leon Kennedy really was.  

You raise your brow at him and grill him while he snatches the fag he robbed from your lips. He takes a long draw. By heart he knows the taste of your lips, all paper-wrapped and kissed.  

“Whatcha got there? Cherry lip gloss?”  

“Yup.” You hum in approbation, and now you watch the heady vapors drifting from his lips, frost-kissed red as fresh grains in a pomegranate against the biting cold.  

What is clear is that you both crave to be with each other. Why, Anna wants Vronsky like Vronsky wants Anna, like Vronsky has that mad, demeritorious longing for Anna. And for Leon, you’re what they might label that weird thing inside him.

“Come with me to the greenhouse. Now.”  

“What? N-now? The surge in your speech ripples, either from the cold or sheer astonishment.

With the last puff, Leon throws the cigarette on the snow-carpeted ground and treads on the glowing ash with the sole of his shoe. The next thing you know—  

He grabs you by the wrist and drags you behind him to the glass vestibule of his mother’s one and only conservatory. All this silence, all these initiatives are the signs that he has a master plot in his head, and you’re just getting the hang of it.

“This is insane. House is teeming with people. We... we should wait for them to sleep.”  

Your words make no sense, at least for Leon, and yes, they are sensible, but Leon’s a recalcitrant one. He’s straight in his head.  

“Oh, that’s it?” He lets you in and zooms out the door behind you. Naturally, he first snoops around to see if the place is empty or not. He doesn’t have to search every corner. The survival instinct that comes with his profession assures him that the place is pretty vacant from the moment he steps foot inside.

Your tentative steps are no different than trekking through a minefield. You trust him, but getting nabbed is always a contingency.

“Yeah. Fat chance, sweetheart. It’s now or never.” Leon whispers a brickbat, mimicking the way you croon your words when you feel imperiled. The two of you cross a lane, and Leon turns to you. Curling his fingers around the delineation of your waist, he lifts you onto a sturdy mahogany tabletop that his mother usually decorates with lovely flowers. Show off.  

“What if someone—”  

He heckles you obliquely with his index finger, pressing it just slightly to your lips.  

“I’ll be completely honest when I say this to you. Everybody knows that we’re fucking.”  

“They do?”  

Leon offers one affirmative shake of the head. “My dad and ... my mom... well, she knows everything.”  

“Christ.”  

How much more scandalous information can Leon reveal about his family, you ponder, as your darling brother-in-law rucks the hem of your dress up and you, with what must be muscle memory, spread your legs apart to give him more room to do his thing.

“I knew it.”  

He makes a subtle jab at the sheer wetness staining the frilly seam of your panties. Inoffensive, alright. Call a spade a spade; you’ve been sitting wet from the very beginning of the evening—or rather, from the second you glanced in Leon’s direction. Kind of like a stupid baby who peed her pants.  

“You’re wet, missy.”  

Don’t mind your panties skimming down to your ankles, just around your heels.  

His touch, the one you have been yearning for, sinks into you in two fingers, scissoring your pussy with his middle and ring finger, and your heart nearly pops out of your throat. He could have taken out his phone and taken a picture of a memory he didn’t want to forget, a cover photo that could have been the most memorable snapshot of your face—the most beautifully captured moment of the year.

“So tight,” his whisper sears your chest, “he could never give you what you want, and he will never give you what you want. Gotta be thankful that you have me.” 

Well, you’ve never been a thankful person, but maybe now is the time for a character transformation. Maybe you really should thank your brother-in-law for his very existence this year as he fucks his fingers into your velvety folds.  

“Hmmm? What you say? Don’t you fuck him just to keep yourself for me?”  

“Maybe.” Your breath touches his cheek, like a summery kiss, as he thumbs the spot that makes you squeeze down on his digits.  

“Not the answer I expected, though not that I care. I have more important things to do.”  

He’s talking about important things like you, to be sure, or your lovely cunt where the slick is bleeding on his fingers.  

When he’s sure he can fit himself in, he samples his glistening fingers himself, in his own mouth. A familiar taste, yes, but it leaves a trace of saccharin on his tongue that he has been denied for quite a long time. When it’s forbidden, it’s the lushest.  

“Maybe I’ll eat you tomorrow morning after breakfast.”  

How funny. No offense, but he sucks at these quip games.  

Neither he nor you have the patience to wait any longer in the rush of this. Whatever this is. Quick as it is, Leon wraps your legs around his hips, which he grasps by your calves.  

You do the rest and release him with your hand, loosening the belt around his waist and running your hand down to the zipper of his pants. Either it’s something in your imagination, or tonight he seems bigger to your eyes than you can ever remember him being. That, and the scars, which you can now observe so vividly for the first time. They’re emblazoned on his pale hide and mar him in angry pinks and ultraviolets. As much as you want to touch them, to plant those healing kisses, it’s Leon who stops you.  

“We don’t have time.”  

You already know that. In his defense, Leon and you have made one thing clear from the beginning: no feelings attached!  

So maybe in another universe you had the right Kennedy, and you were the one who lay with him in the same bed. You had a life beside him, with a cat and a dog, plus a roof over your head. Tragically, in this universe you were the cheating slut who cuckolded your fiancé, and he’s the asshole who banged his brother’s fiancé.  

“We don’t have time,” says the smartass, as he strokes the reddish tip of his cock back and forth over your wet entrance and repeats it like a looped movie script. It’s enough to piss you off, but your impatience is through the roof.  

“Please. Please, Leon.”  

The first thing he’s anticipating is the begging stage. But he wants more than that. And you know it.  

“Expecting better words from that witty mouth.”  

You bite your lower lip, and no, that’s not what he’s expecting nor what he aspires to.  

Leon pulls back a little and lays hold of his cock by the shaft. It’s leaking from the tip, and he smears the pre-cum by gliding the fat head of his dick into your slit. Smart saving, no wasted material.  

“See?” He massages the fluids with his ring finger, rubbing everything inside. “How your little pussy loves me. Your body wants me, sweetheart.” 

He then spits on his palm, garbing the dew over his cock, and proves his practical acumen even if he comes up with a solution that is not particularly hygienic.

“Now you tell me. Want me to fuck a little Kennedy in this pretty pussy?”

You should be ashamed of yourself. That you’re dying for this. Synonyms for these images of humiliation, however, don’t even cross your mind during those abandoned seconds.

You don’t know how many times you have shaken your head at him, positively, but it’s so worth it to see that boyish grin on his face. 

“I want it, Leon. Nothing but you.” You are no longer begging but spewing the truth as almost a last resort.  

Leon feels a thrill of elation at the way you squeeze him as he slides into you, tighter than sin. Your lips are sucking in a delicate puff of breath, and he’s not even inside you.  

The table beneath you is virtually slipping out of your palms, but fortunately you have him. He always holds you and always gives you whatever you want. He pulls on your hips, and moonlit tears well up in your eyes, stinging your lashes.  

“Damn, gorgeous. Can barely fucking fit.” The rasp of his lilt in his voice, the rush of his fingers on your hips. It’s all turning your head topsy-turvy. Slow, perhaps lazy thrusts push inside you, and your fluttering walls memorize the shape and outline of a cock that fucks you up inside and out. He leans back and groans as his dick melts into you—inch by inch, deeper and deeper, and the parting of his lips breaks into a grin as you near your limit with a newly forming bulge inside your stomach.

Only then do you auscultate the scratchy urge seething inside him.

“Look at this. Too big for ya? God—missed this pretty pussy so bad.” 

More than you have missed him?

Or does he even realize how wretchedly you tighten around his cock when you hear the subtle eulogy out of his mouth?

This is Leon you’re talking about. Of coure, he feels you. The guy worships you.  

He knows and reads your body, your soul. Goes further when you gently repel back to meet his hips, to less when he realizes that your hand is curling into a fist on his abdomen, and tenses up when he lashes your cervix with a very hard stab.

Everything is for you: every error he has made and will ever repeat and every right he will ever do.  

So is the way his lips quest for yours. The kiss rips out everything in your brain that belongs to survival instincts—rough and soft in equal measure—utterly debauched. His demanding hands play with your right tit poking out of your dress as if it were his own personal meat and vein toy. Hands reach up from his biceps down to his forearms, helpless, and you cling tightly to his shoulders because his body is the only thing that is holding you on the end of the table right now. He’s the only thing keeping you here, against the freezing degrees outside, against the happy house imaginary, against the people in it.  

Your mutinous whimpers choke in your own throat in an audible volume, and you recoil from his lips as if you are screaming in a nightmare but happen to have lost your voice. Eyes glazed, and both your lips are alizarin to the point of bleeding.  

“Look what I fucking do to you, greedy girl.” He reaches down your neck. Doesn’t choke you, though.

He’s the one who made you this way. Tonight he’s just more cynical than you’ve ever known him to be. Dirty talk will definitely rattle around in your brain in the most unlikely of places—maybe during a briefing, or maybe when you’re sitting with your beloved husband-to-be, sipping coffee or hot chocolate together.  

“I can’t. Leon. I think I—” The little words you’re trying to say just won’t come out of your mouth. You push so hard, but there’s simply no way through. Those mental words linger in your mind like clouds of rumination, leaving you mouth agape.  

“Yeah, me too.” He whispers quite musings as his thumb finds the pearl of your clit.

That’s exactly where the hell breaks loose. You no longer possess the vigor to spring up on the table, nor does he have the stamina to be sucked into the molten lava in which he’s melting and kindling.  

Drunken mistakes or impulses often drive people to make a choice they will regret. Your ineptitude is a down payment. Right there and then, you blanket his still throbbing cock, and he’s blinking his eyelashes together. All that ponderous, stinging thrusting, now numb and sporadic.  

“I’ll give you, give you—my baby.”  

Famous last words.

Still, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. Really, the very essence of male beauty must have been invented for him, or you’re just too fucked up here.

To him, you’re so beautiful, and you take his cock so nicely. Absolutely worth its weight in gold.

With his face sunk into your neck, he moans, making a note of total bliss as he bottoms out, filling you as intensely as possible. Leon betrays a breath of air and closes his eyes for a second as your lovely pussy sucks in every lingering drop.

Your pulse is as senile as an oldie; you’re flushed and panting, gripping the edge of the table beneath you.

The rank ham-fistedness of your conduct dawns on both of you as you both only just regain your composure.

“Merry Christmas, beautiful.” So effortlessly, as if what happened between you hadn’t even had a spare moment to touch you—both emotionally and physically—as if he isn’t still inside you, he gives you his New Year’s wishing.  

“Merry Christmas, Leon.” Back at him, you sigh exasperatedly. No harm done. Can’t help wishing that the new year will be spent right next to him.

“Are you ready to get up, or should I carry you?”  

“Have I told you how hilarious you are?”  

“Oh, honey. The girls love it. So do you.”  

He crowns his comedy rehearsal, which is guaranteed to get a standing ovation, with a conical hat that he finds on the table at a random and very absurd moment and plonks it on your head. You nearly flinch.  

“There you go. Now you fit the theme.” 

[nekomamiiz]

kuroo — 550 words

tags; fem!reader, established relationship, oral (f! receiving), referring to female anatomy as 'her', some cockwarming, lowercase intentional, tetsurou is certified adorkable

divider by @/cafekitsune

kuroo sometimes has conversations with your pussy… 

i cannot stop thinking about him catching you lounging on the sofa as he walks in the house. you hear some rustling of the objects in his hands and within seconds he's on top of you, kissing your lips, trailing down your neck and chest.

he lifts your shirt and tucks his head under the fabric, licking, kissing, and biting the skin on your tummy.

he finally gets to the place he’s been thinking about all day. he taps your thigh and you lift slightly so he can remove whatever article of clothing you have covering yourself. he slides the material down your legs and rests your thighs on his shoulders

“god i’ve missed you so much,” he practically shivers when he finally gets a face full of your perfect cunt. his fingers digging into your skin, tongue already slipping out to wet his lips.

“i missed you too, tetsu,” you say with a giggle, probably hiding your face behind the book you're reading.

“oh yeah,” he blinks twice. “yeah i missed you too,” he regards you with the most guilty expression you’ve ever seen and he tries to give you an endearing smile as his eyes shift from your face to your pussy.

it doesn’t work, he’s already been caught. 

“if you wanted me to be ready for you, you could’ve just called ahead of time,” your voice dips an octave lower—sugary sweet—and it makes him groan, causing him to grind his hips against the couch.

“let me just spend some time here, okay? i’ve been thinking about this all day, wanna make my girl feel good.” 

he does exactly that. you come twice thanks to his skillful tongue and he wastes no time after that to strip you down, settling you onto his lap, his hands on your ass as he bounces you up and down on his cock. 

he thinks you look absolutely gorgeous lost in pleasure, and he knows he's the only one who can get you to this point. that thought alone sends him over the edge, but he’s nowhere near finished with you yet. 

he carries you to the bedroom, your naked body wrapped tight around his, your laughter reverberates through your shared home and he finally settles you on the bed. he hovers over you, peppering your face in kisses as he did before. 

“okay now let me say good night and put her to sleep,” he chuckles as he makes his way down to your dripping center, glistening with your combined fluids. 

he licks between your folds once and places a soft kiss on your clit, you hear him whisper ‘good night pretty’ from where he’s at and then he makes his way back up to you. he quickly slips his cock back inside you and you can’t help but stare at him in disbelief.

“what?” he asks as wraps his arms around you. 

“you’re still the same dork i fell in love with all those years ago,” you tease and he can’t help but chuckle at your words. 

“good to know i’ve still got it then.” he says with one more kiss to your cheek. 

you wake up a few hours later with his head between your thighs.

again.

couldnt get this out of my mind and wrote it on my lunch break yesterday, it ain't much but it's honest work aka this might b trash ahaha anyway i hope you enjoy <3

[kookygranger]

Blue Christmas

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Aka Fairytale of Hawkins: Part Three

Summary: The town of Hawkins calls for you once again this Christmas, but with sugar-laced memories of a certain metalhead tainted by a recent breakup your stance on the holiday season has returned in full force.

Warnings: angst with fluff ending (it's a Hallmark Christmas!), casual holiday drinking, exes to smitten, reader and Eddie are in their late 20s/early 30s, swearing

Word count: 6.8k

Author's note: It's been a year since we were all here in this little corner of the world so I would just like to say – whether there were more moments of accomplishments, love, gratitude, euphoria, or just more of the same as these past few years seem to have presented so many of us – I hope you find some form of joy and a moment to breathe at the end of another year, or at least that it comes to you soon. You are not alone in this feeling; we keep on moving.

Part One | Part Two

8 weeks ‘til Christmas

“I’m gonna book my flights tonight, do you want me to do yours too?” The blank stare you give Robin is reciprocated when she looks over at your silence. “The price will just go up if we wait.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Booking flights. For Christmas. To Hawkins.” Your frown deepens with every additional sentence she pushes out. “We talked about this last month.”

“You thought I was serious?”

She shifts her body to face yours on the sofa, tucking her leg in. “When I asked if you were coming you said, oh sure!”

“Robin, it’s called sarcasm. I thought you were fond of the language.”

She frowns back at you, “You’re not coming for Christmas?”

You shake your head, “You can’t be serious.”

“Everybody’s expecting you.”

“I’m pretty sure they’re not.”

“You had so much fun last year–“

“Robin.”

“–Max and El want to go ice skating with you, and Steve’s already making plans–“

“Robin!”

“What?!” She throws her hands in the air, her shoulders meeting her ears.

“Eddie and I broke up.”

She nods once, “I know.”

“Okayyy, so what makes you think I could ever go back to Hawkins?”

“You’re being a little dramatic.”

“I can’t crash your Christmas are you kidding?! I’m the ex-whatever now. I’m the outsider again.”

She rolls her eyes, “Except you’re not. You’re a part of the family. Everyone’s so excited to see you.”

“Uh, I don’t think Eddie is.”

She breathes out a huff, “I think if the two of you saw each other this whole thing would just blow over.”

You tuck your legs towards your chest, focusing back on the TV.

“I’m not having this conversation again. Eddie was very clear about what he wanted. He doesn’t want to see me, and I’m never ever going back to that town. Especially, not for Christmas.”

***

7 days ‘til Christmas – Hawkins, Indiana

“Are you just gonna stand there pouting the whole time or are you gonna join in?”

Robin’s voice snaps your attention from Frank Sinatra crooning from the open window of her parent’s house. You frown, looking down at the string of lights wound around your hands then up at Steve as he balances on the ladder, placing the lights along the gutter and brushing the snow away as he goes.

You peer around the ladder at Robin, holding her own bundle in the warmth of the house. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Try looking a little less like you’re being held against your will.” She shouts through the window.

You’re about to tell her that’s exactly what’s happening, thinking back to a couple of days ago when Steve had shown up out of the blue at your shared apartment, telling you he was going to drive Robin home for the holidays before suggesting you all go out for something to eat before they left. It had taken you 28 minutes to ask where on earth Steve was going, initially distracted by his detailed update of Dustin’s last year of college. You clocked the shifty look he shared with Robin in the front seat at the same time you realised you were about to turn onto the highway.

But Steve interrupts your bitter reminiscing with his own interjection, “Jesus Rob, leave her alone. I don’t see you out here freezing your ass off.”

You thank Steve as Robin rolls her eyes and resumes decorating.

“Anytime. We kidnapped you ‘cause we love you, you know that right?” He looks down in between the gap of his arms with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, I know.”

He nods, “It’ll be alright.”

You give him a barely reassuring nod in return, ignoring the stinging at the back of your eyes while Frank sings about glistening treetops like the snow-capped ones lining the suburban street. You sniffle and wipe your nose quickly, hoping Steve thinks it’s just the cold and has nothing to do with how you wish it was his roommate who was comforting you instead, and the pain of knowing he was so close but wouldn’t care anymore.

You focus on unwinding more of the lights as Steve descends the ladder to move it over.

How the hell did you get dragged into this again?

***

I’m twirlin’ a cane made of peppermint

Uh huh (uh huh), uh huh (uh huh)

Nice sticky hands, sticky peppermint

Uh huh (uh huh) uh huh (uh huh)

Spun sugary cloud I’m floatin’ on

The fresh fallen snow melts into the tyre tracks left by traffic along the main street. You watch it through the frosted glass of the diner, one hand cradling the warm mug on the table in front of you.

“Gosh, you’d think they’d give the Christmas songs a break every now and then.”

“I actually kind of like this one.”

Nancy watches you watching the outside world, checking over her shoulder to see if Robin is still occupied in the bathroom before leaning in across the table.

“So, how are you feeling about seeing him? Have you two talked about it yet? Are you both going to be at everything together or are you taking turns? We could totally do something separate if you’re not feeling up to it–we could go shopping, just us two!”

You turn to smile at her, “Jeez Nancy, you should be a reporter or something.”

She shakes her head with a smile, “Sorry. I just know things can feel a little overwhelming coming back to Hawkins with everybody here. I don’t want you to feel left out or uncomfortable or anything.” She glances over her shoulder again, “And Robin kind of seems–“

“She’s not really accepted it, I think. Keeps saying it’ll all blow over.”

“Could it?”

Your attention is caught by a man ringing a gold bell in a Santa suit walking past the window before it falls on Nancy again, with her look of quiet hopefulness. She’s smart, defiant, and effortlessly beautiful. Even in your brief encounters with her, you’ve always been in awe of her strength. You think about Steve and wonder how long it took for the pain of being around her to turn into gentleness again. You think about asking her how you can be strong and vulnerable in love at the same time.

“It just didn’t work out. I’m sure he’ll find someone better for him soon enough. If he hasn’t already.”

“Oh, n–“ Nancy flinches as Robin slaps her hands on the table, before sharing a knowing smile with you at her proclamation.

“I just had the best idea!’

“In the toilet, Rob?” You laugh, “Can’t wait to hear this one.”

She slides into the booth seat next to you, bumping your shoulder gently with hers. “I think we ditch the civilized lunch, go home, get changed and meet back at the bar for a grown-up girl’s night. Whaddya think?”

You shake your head, “I don’t think grown-ups actually call themselves grown-ups.”

“They refer to themselves as adults,” Nancy nods knowingly, “and they pronounce it a-D-ults.”

You turn your head towards Robin, “Plus our last trip to the watering hole in this town didn’t really end well for us.”

“He won’t be there if that’s what you’re worried about. Steve said he works late at the shop on Fridays.”

“Robin.” Nancy’s warning glare is enough to make you feel flushed, but Robin only shrugs dramatically.

“Why does everybody keep looking at me like that?! This is my best friend,” her arm squeezes around your shoulders and you giggle when she pinches your cheeks together, “and I’m always looking out for her, which is why she is here and why we’re getting festively hammered tonight at the Hideout. No boys allowed.”

***

The Hideout is exactly as you remember. All sticky tabletops, dim lighting, and gruff patrons (with the exception of a few young home for the holiday-ers). Robin wastes no time in ordering shots, keeping both you and Nancy on your toes, until you’re very much not.

“I can’t even tell which is stripes and which is…the other one.” Nancy drops her pool cue on the green table. “’M calling Jonathan.”

“I’ll call Steve!” Robin follows her to the payphone on the wall.

“But we can fit one car.” Your slightly slurred voice of reason is waved off by Robin and it’s not long until you’re waving at Jonathan’s retreating car, feeling her head slump against your shoulder, your breath leaving you in clouds.

“I don’t feel good.”

You pat her gently on the head, “Steve will be here soon.”

“No, I really don’t feel good.”

“Are you going to throw up?”

She mumbles something that sounds like a yes into your shoulder and you move swiftly to turn her body away from you and support her off to the side of the bar where there’s shrubbery. She spits a couple of times first and you think it might be a false alarm before she’s vomiting all over the bushes.

“Okay, there we go.” You pat her on the back, holding her hair away from her face.

There’s a slam of a car door echoing across the small carpark that makes you turn your head, hoping it’s Steve. When you hear another one followed by girlish giggling your attention turns back to Robin, finally starting to shiver from the cold as the alcohol begins wearing off.

“C’mon Steve.” You mutter.

The hand that’s rubbing circles on Robin’s back freezes when you hear a familiar voice cut through the giggling behind you.

“And then the car just sprays the hell out of him with oil.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You glance over your shoulder with a hammering heart; one that feels like it drops to your stomach when you see those familiar curls and his dimpled smile when the pretty girl he’s with reacts to his story. The girl who has her hand tightly clasped around his leather jacket as they walk across the close-to-icy pavement. Your head snaps back around when they get closer, and you’re thankful for the poor lighting keeping you mostly hidden until Robin’s hacking up sick again.

“Gross.”

Your eyes screw shut at her words, your body stilling until you hear the front door of the Hideout close behind them both. You’re saved moments later when Steve pulls up right beside you.

“Jesus Christ.” Steve helps you get Robin standing upright again, grimacing at the way her head lolls as you both shuffle her into the passenger seat.

“Pretty sure it was the decision to switch to spiked egg nog to keep the “debauchery festive” that did it.” You sigh, then smirk at Steve’s perplexed look, hands on hips and head shaking. “Just remember you’re moving in with that.”

He winces, “Yeah, you forget the intensity of Robin when you’re not around it that often.”

“You two are going to have so much fun.”

Steve looks at you, eyebrows raising, “I thought it was us three? You change your mind?”

You shrug, biting your lip as he watches you with confusion, “I don’t really know anymore.”

He just nods slowly then, “Okay, that’s–okay. I wasn’t gonna start looking at places until the New Year, so you have a bit of time to decide. We can talk about it later.”

There’s a momentary silence that���s interrupted by Robin mumbling something about getting fries.

“No, we’re going straight home.” Steve shuts the passenger door and squeezes you on the shoulder before walking around to the driver’s seat. You look back at the bar, expecting to see him walk through the door with a cigarette prepared in between his lips, but you quickly get into the car before you get caught.

***

6 days ‘til Christmas

The screaming kid being dragged down the aisle away from the candy does nothing to soothe the headache you’re currently enduring. Nor does the slightly flickering and dim fluorescent lights of the small grocery store, as you struggle to make a decision in front of the potato chips.

You hadn’t slept much, despite your heavy limbs and swimming head when you slipped under the covers on the sofa bed. You couldn’t get the image of him smiling at another girl off your mind.

It had only been a couple of months did he move on that quickly?

Did he know her while you were together? Was she just waiting in the wings? Did something happen between them while you were–no, Eddie wouldn’t do that. But maybe developing feelings for someone else was the catalyst for him breaking it off. God, she was pretty.

Needless to say, your brain is a little fried from the tossing and turning and struggling to make a decision about snack foods. It even takes a moment to register the questioning call of your name behind you.

You turn around.

“I thought that was you darlin’. What a surprise.”

You smile, taking in the worn flannel and pristine trucker’s cap of the older man in front of you.

“Hi, Wayne.”

He embraces you briefly, the scent of a familiar brand of cigarettes stirring a pang in your chest.

“Ed never told me you were coming back for Christmas.”

“Oh, well I didn’t know until about two days ago myself. I’m not sure if he did either.”

“Robin wear you down, did she?”

“Kind of.” You offer him a small smile.

Wayne rubs the grey stubble on his jaw. “You’re welcome to come over again on Christmas day. Whatever happened between you two, you’re always welcome.”

You frown, “That’s really sweet Wayne, but I don’t think he–“

“Hey old man, you want the creamed corn or the regular–“

You make eye contact at the same time. Eddie walks down the small aisle holding up his options, his sneakers squeak when he comes to an abrupt stop.

“Shit. I mean–hi.” He shakes his head quickly.

Wayne crosses his arms, “Christ son, what kind of greeting is that to a lady.”

You burn under the attention of the two, the situation not what you had anticipated when you entered the store. Damn small towns. You didn’t get a good look at him last night, but he looks well. His hair is freshly washed and a little shorter than the last time you’d seen him. He must’ve gotten that trim he kept putting off. But there’s no dimpled smile. Just a look of uncomfortable shock.

“Um, I should get back to Robin,” you hold up the basket in your hands full of sugary hangover food and boxes of Kraft mac and cheese, “she’s feeling a little rough this morning.”

“You two been celebratin’ early?” Wayne smiles.

“Uh,” your gaze flickers to Eddie briefly, “just went to the bar for a few drinks last night, which Robin couldn’t exactly keep down.” You see the realisation hit him in real time, his brows creasing before his eyes widen, turning your attention back to Wayne as he chuckles.

“Well, you better get home quick then.”

“I will. Have a Merry Christmas Wayne.” You hope he doesn’t take offence to the almost grimacing smile you give him, but you can’t muster up anything better given the situation. “See you later, Eddie.” You turn without another glance at him, feeling embarrassment wash over you when you hear a light thump and Wayne’s grumble at Eddie’s complaint.

“Ow.”

“You better get your tongue untwisted next time, son.”

***

He watches the windows of his van frost over quickly after he cuts the engine and the warm air off. They said to expect heavy snow any day now, continuing into the new year. Eddie can’t move his hands away from the steering wheel.

He thought this would be the first time you’d see each other when everyone gathered at the Buckley’s for a Christmas movie night to kick off the festivities. He’d been preparing himself for this moment, even going as far as washing his hair this morning, which he was kind of thankful for given he’d run into you at the grocery store earlier.

You stole his words from him.

Not that you were wearing anything particularly flattering, he’s sure you actually had pyjamas on under your thick coat, in fact you looked a little tired. But, fuck. You always looked beautiful.

And Eddie wasn’t expecting to see you yet, especially not last night at the Hideout. He shakes his head, of course you saw that. He’s sure if there’s some higher power out there controlling his ill-fated life they had a good chuckle about that shining moment.

This was where you were supposed to be reunited, in a controlled environment around friends flowing with the holiday spirit – just like last time. He was going to find a quiet moment to talk to you, to apologise, to explain his cowardice.

Now he couldn’t work up the courage to leave the van.

It’s the banging on the window next to him that startles him out of his trance.

“Dude, what are you doing?”

Despite the teasing, he can’t help but smile at the smirking, still youthful but grown faces of his younger D&D cohort.

“I bet he’s crying to a sad pop song.” Dustin nudges in beside Mike, the window framing them along with Will and Lucas as they all push up against the glass, the condensation not enough to hide their taunting looks.

The door creaks as he opens it, pushing the group away with a wave of his hand and a faux snarl. “Get inside, you little Gremlins.”

He’ll never tire of hearing their collective laughter, even if it’s at his own expense.

He follows the kids up the icy path to the house, ending up in a half-hearted wrestle with Dustin when he asks if it was Joni Mitchell he was listening to. He’s choking out a rendition of River when they tumble through the door with Dustin in a headlock under Eddie’s surprisingly firm biceps.

Your eyes are wide when they stop right in front of you.

“Can I take your jackets?”

Eddie straightens up quickly, his face flushed while the colour quickly drains from Dustin as his air supply returns.

“Uh, sure.”

You hang everyone’s coats up on the hooks in the hallway, and Eddie swears there’s a zap when your fingers brush his as he hands off his leather jacket. You’re wearing a cute Christmas sweater. Not one of those garish over the top ones, just a simple forest green and white knitted thing that makes you look cosy and makes him miss the feeling of your arms wrapped around him. You join the others in the living room off to the side of the hall without another word, leaving him standing there with his party.

“Well that was weirdly formal.” Lucas pats him on the back as he brushes past and the others follow his lead. Eddie sighs, wanting to just turn on his heel and bolt, but more determined to talk to you and encourage you to start looking him in the eyes again.  

You’re separated from him by the group crammed into Robin’s parent’s living room. Bodies spread out across couches and cushions scattered on the floor, some innocent cuddling and even more innocent squabbling. You’re only a few metres away across the other side of the room, but it feels like you’re unreachable to Eddie. He still manages to steal glances at you, laughing along to the conversations, your pretty face lit up by the Christmas tree and the company.

After what feels like hours, he finally gets his moment near the end of the film, his attention drawn to you in the dark as you stand up and make your way to the kitchen alone.

He waits a minute, praying nobody else decides to join you, before rising slowly from his seat nonchalantly walking in the same direction.

He finds you at the sink with a glass of water, looking out the window at the Buckley’s backyard.

“They say it’ll probably snow overnight.”

You jump at his voice, the water in your glass spilling over onto your hand.

“Shit, sorry.” Eddie holds out his hands as if trying to calm a wild animal when you turn around.

“It’s okay, I was just…somewhere else.” You give him a weak smile, drying your hands on a nearby tea towel. He steps a little closer to you when it looks like you’re going to move away.

“I know we have a lot to talk about, but I wanted to clear the air about last night first.”

“We don’t have to talk about anything.” You shrug, still not catching his eye. “It’s not any of my business.”

His chest puffs up under his maroon sweater (the one you like) before he sighs, “She’s the receptionist at the shop. She keeps pestering me to get after work drinks with her.” He scrambles to get to the point when he notices you step towards the door, “She won’t get the hint every time I say no, and she stayed late last night just so I wouldn’t have an excuse. I was just tryna’ get it over with. Show her that we probably have nothing in common and let her down nicely I guess.”

“Eddie, you don’t owe me an explanation just because I saw you.” You smile, finally looking up at him and he hates the insincerity of it, the clouded over eyes that look straight through him. “You can see whoever you want, it’s none of my business.”

He shakes his head, reaching out to you, “I’m not seeing anybody, of course I’m not sweet girl–“ That gets a reaction out of you, and the anger, the lowering of your walls gets Eddie’s heart racing.

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore.” You’re looking at him now, really looking at him, eyebrows pinched in indignation.

“I want to apologise.”

3 months ago

He felt it coming from a mile off. The way you had an excuse every time you were supposed to come down to Hawkins. The way you switched subjects on the phone whenever he brought up future plans, concerts happening next year, a pay rise that meant he could afford a decent place when Steve inevitably moved out. No matter what everyone would say about his intelligence, Eddie Munson could read the writing on the wall.

So, when you finally caught up after weeks of dodged calls and visits, he had his mind set. Get out before he was pushed out. Be the breaker not the broken.  

“So, Robin and Steve moving to Indy huh?

“Mhm.” He hums in reply as you try to stir up conversation from the kitchen. There’d been an awkward silence ever since he’d walked through the door of your apartment. You watch him sitting on the edge of your couch, a dark cloud hanging over him you were trying to shoo away.

“Didn’t think them being separated would last much longer,” you breathe out a laugh through your nose and he only nods, still distant. Your hands are clammy with nerves, a slight shake to your voice he doesn’t seem to notice. “You know actually, my lease is up next month, I was thinking of moving in with Robin for a while.”

“Your place is nicer.”

You tip your head back and forth, “Yeah, but she has an extra room since her roommate moved out.”

“What are you gonna do when she goes?” His leg starts to bounce, and it’s like his mouth is moving but his mind is elsewhere.

“It’s not until next year…I was thinking maybe, well not maybe, I was just thinking that I would–“

“This isn’t working, right?” His head snaps up and it takes you a moment to answer him under his furrowed gaze.

“It’s…what?”

“I mean, I’m exhausted from all the travelling back and forth and I know you are. Why the hell would you wanna spend your weekends in Hawkins?”

You take a deep breath, “Well, I wanted to talk to you about that–”

“Great let's talk. You can’t keep coming to Hawkins.”

“I–“

“And hell, it’s not exactly like I would move here.”

Oh.

He wouldn’t do the same for you.

“Wayne’s only getting older, and Steve well he’s gonna move to Indy but it’s still close, and Robin will be there, and the kids when they come home. And I can’t just quit my job, you know I’ve got a good steady thing going, and of course you can’t so you know…where does that leave us?”

It leaves you with moving with Robin to Indianapolis. Saying fuck it to your job because you can always find another one. It leaves you with moving in with Eddie because he can find work and still be close to Wayne.

At least, you thought it did, but now…now you feel like a fool in love. Rushing into something unreciprocated, because it hadn’t even been a year, why would he be willing to move away from everything familiar for you?

“Right.”

He sighs, rubbing his face before standing up and walking over to you. “Sweetheart I just don’t see how this can work anymore.”

You try to swallow the dryness in your throat away, “Right.”

“I don’t know how to…” he shakes his head and looks to the door, “Should I go?”

“If you want to.”

“Fuck.” He rubs his face harshly, “I’m sorry. I’ll just go.” He starts to walk away, pivoting quickly to give you a barely there peck on your temple then walking straight out the door with a slam that makes you flinch.

You’re left standing there, shocked into immobility. That wasn’t how you thought that conversation was going to go, but maybe you should have prepared for that. This is what happens when you leave yourself vulnerable.

You wish he’d left a more lasting kiss where you could feel the imprint of it.

“I shouldn’t have left like that. I should’ve called you and properly talked. With you and not at you. I’m so sorry. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it.”

“That’s nice.”

“Sweet–“ he corrects himself and with a breath says your name instead, “I want to apologise.”

You shrug, eyes glazing over again. “It’s whatever Eddie. Maybe I should thank you for having the guts to rip the band-aid off. To say how you felt before–before I made an idiot of myself.”

He frowns, “What do you mean?”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just move on and have a good Christmas with everyone.”

Eddie’s shoulders deflate as you walk out of the kitchen.

Maybe his fuck up was truly irreparable this time.

***

Three days ‘til Christmas

The day after movie night had been a girl’s day. Ice skating with El and Max in the centre of town, a light dusting of snow catching on your tongues as you giggled and listened to them gush about their independent lives away from home and the ever-present homesickness this time of year, even when they were with their families. Nancy had met you all after, driving you to the mall for some last-minute Christmas shopping. You’d pulled Dustin’s name for Secret Santa this year and found him some albums on cassette you’d thought he like based on what Eddie had told you he’d enjoyed of his musical teachings.

You waited up for Robin later, who’d spent the day with Steve and Eddie.

The next day, there had been a gingerbread house making competition at the Byers residence. Joyce, her two sons, El, Hopper, Robin, Mike and Steve were all there fighting over the best candy decorations and cheering over the collapse of each other’s creations. The rest were with Eddie at the mall.

Nobody had mentioned it explicitly, but it was clear that everyone was working around the issue of you and the boisterous metalhead by taking it in turns and whispering about who’d be where when. And so it was, that most of your week in Hawkins had gone by without seeing Eddie, except for the run-ins at the Hideout and the grocery store and the awkward conversation at movie night.

You were worried you were bringing the mood down. You’d tried to be comfortable around him for everyone else’s sake, but you mustn’t have been hiding your emotions very well.

So, you’d excused yourself from today’s activities – Christmas tree chopping and decorating at Steve and Eddie’s apartment – feigning a scratchy throat and headache that could only be cured by staying in and resting.

You’d actually ended up leaving the house to find the cute bookstore in town in search of something to keep you company. You’d browsed for over an hour, the comforting smell of the fresh pages of paper, the occasional jingle of the bell above the door as shoppers flowed through the store and the quiet hum of Christmas songs from the radio on the counter all enveloping you in this space of temporary peace.

By the time you leave the store, paper bag weighing one arm down as you button up your coat again, the snow that had been threatening to fall for days had well and truly blanketed the town.

“Oh.” Your voice is carried off in the wind, with the snow that’s falling down sideways. The streets are significantly quieter, the sky darker and the pavements covered.

You’d walked into town from the Buckley’s. It wasn’t particularly far but it seemed like miles in these conditions. You turn around, briefly considering calling someone from inside the store, when the shop owner flips over the sign to closed. Giving you an oblivious wave and smile which you return.

Walking it is then.

***

“I’m an idiot for thinking I could just cut and run. I hate not being able to talk to her. She’s angry, and she deserves to be, but she won’t even let me see that. I just want her to talk to me, be angry at me, yell at me. She’s not her when she’s around me anymore and it kills me. I just–I just want…I don’t know.”

Steve munches on popcorn from the bowl in front of him, while he waits for the fresh batch to stop popping in the microwave. Eddie is holding a bowl of cranberries, slumped against the kitchen table, laughter spilling through from the other room.

“Sounds like you want her back.”

“Not just that,” he shakes his head, “I still think she deserves better I just wish we could still be in each other’s lives.”

Steve crosses his arms, truly ugly Christmas sweater bunched up by his elbows. “What do you mean she deserves better?”

“I couldn’t be there for her most the time. Our relationship was over the phone, I couldn’t hold her back anymore. I spent half my life dreaming of leaving this stupid town and now I’m too chicken shit to do it. She should be with someone in her league you know. At least someone who lives in the same damn city.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Steve waves his hand around. “Are you telling me you broke up with her because of the distance?”

Eddie looks at him and shrugs, “Yeah. You knew that.”

“No, I didn’t. Anytime I tried to talk to you about it you just kept saying it didn’t work out.” He imitates a deeper, grumpy voice.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Whatever, man. What difference does it make?”

Steve scoffs, “Indy’s like an hour and a half away, you couldn’t just hang on ‘til she moved?”

“She…what? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Eddie!” Robin rushes into the kitchen, causing him to straighten up with the look of panic on her face. “You need to find her.”

***

Cold. Cold. Cold.

Never has anybody been this cold in the history of life itself. Cold doesn’t even begin to touch what you’re currently feeling – or not feeling, like your fingers. How long does it take to get frostbite?

You thought you were closer to the Buckley’s, but now all the snow-covered suburban houses looked the same. It didn’t help that all you could think about was the cold! Practically wading through the thick snow as it continued to pelt you side on, your feet burning with blisters or chilblains, you weren’t sure.

Cold. Cold. Cold.

The tyres slip a little as Eddie pulls quickly to the side of the road, easily being able to make out your form despite the blizzard-like conditions camouflaging everything. You were wearing that pink beret you looked adorable in.

He leaves the engine running as he jumps out, almost slipping on a patch of ice when he grabs you by the arms. He has to yell over the wind, your body trembling underneath his gloved hands, not even able to speak.

Eddie gently maneuvers you back to the van, helping you up into the passenger seat. He blasts the heat even more once he’s behind the steering wheel, reaching behind him and procuring a blanket which he tucks around you, rubbing your arms for good measure.

“Just sit tight sweetheart, I’ll get you home.”

He peels off slowly from the curb, wipers screeching in complaint against the window as he struggles with visibility.  

“It’s l-like we’re d-d-destined to repeat this scene ovver again. You evver see the movie g-groundhog day?”

His head snaps to you and he smiles, happy to hear your voice.

“I’ll always be there to find you in the snow.”

“It’s probably best I just stop coming all together.” You’ve thawed enough to stop chattering now, shifting to tuck yourself further into the blanket.

He frowns, “Don’t say that. Everyone wants you here.”

“I’m just making it harder for you to be with your friends.”

He shakes his head, eyes flicking between you and the road. “That’s not true.”

“Then why is everyone trying to keep us apart?”

“I think they were just trying to help you feel comfortable sweetheart.”

“Wouldn’t you rather I wasn’t here?”

Eddie looks at you in disbelief, before the van lurches and his attention pulls back in front of him.

“Shit, shit, shit.” The engine stutters as he rolls to the side of the road and cranks the handbrake.

“What’s going on?”

He sighs, “We’re out of gas.”

“What?!” You lean over the middle, peering at the dashboard and the blinking red light. “How can you be out of gas?”

“Because I was supposed to fill up the next time I went out and I’ve been driving around looking for you!” You shrink back into your seat. “Sorry, it’s not your fault.”

“I know it isn’t. What grown man leaves it until the light comes on.” A smirk pulls at his lips which grows even wider when he catches you mirroring him.

“This idiot.” He points two thumbs at himself.

“Should we find a payphone to call a tow truck?” You peer out the window, unable to make out much of your surroundings.

Eddie groans and hits his head repeatedly on the steering wheel.

“What?”

“I’m the one on call tonight,” he mumbles.

“Oh. You probably should’ve just brought the truck then.”

“Yep,” he leans back in the seat, rolling his head to look at you. “I wasn’t really thinking things through. You scared me, sweetheart.”

“Sorry,” you whisper, and he offers you a small smile. “How did you know I was out here anyway?”

“Robin called her parent’s house to check in on you. Her dad said you’d gone out for a walk, but you hadn’t come back since the snow started.”

“Right. Thank you for finding me.”

He shrugs, “Like I said. I always will.”

You watch each other for a moment and Eddie’s eyes drop to your lips making a shiver run through your body.

It breaks him from his trance, “Sweetheart, we need to stay warm.” He looks over his shoulder at the back of the van, unbuckling his seatbelt and squeezing between the gap in seats. “C’mon.”

You follow him unquestioningly and he helps you with a hand on your arm. He notices the look on your face when he brings out another blanket and some pillows from a picnic basket among a small mess of boxes and junk he’d thrown back here without thought.

“They’re still in here from that time we went to Lover’s Lake. Haven’t used them since, obviously.” You offer a nod, taking the pillows and arranging them next to each other. Eddie throws the other blanket over the both of you, “Uh, we’re gonna have to get kind of close to–to stay warm.”

“Okay.”

He opens an arm out, waiting for you to slot in and pulling you both down to the floor. You breathe in his scent, a musky cigarette and peppermint enveloping you. Pure, Eddie. You’re both quiet for a while, the steady drum of his heartbeat against your ear. He sighs, and his breath shifts your hair a little, followed by his hand when he notices something.

“You’re wearing the earrings.” His hushed voice vibrating in your head makes you close your eyes.

“I love them,” you whisper back. “They make me feel a little less alone, which doesn’t make sense I know.” You feel Eddie’s lips press against your hair.

“I’m sorry sweet girl. I made a huge mistake.” Your arms squeeze him tighter, and his hand strokes the side of your face.

Eddie begins humming a tune, featherlight at first but the vibrations from his chest warm you up further.

“It was Christmas Eve, babe

In the drunk tank

An old man said to me, “Won’t see another one”

And then he sang a song

“The Rare Old Mountain Dew”

I turned my face away

And dreamed about you”

“Don’t make me sing the duet. You know I can’t sing.” You feel his smile against the side of your head.

“Then just whisper it back.”

You sigh, “You were handsome.”

“You were pretty, Queen of New York City. When the band finished playing, they howled out for more.”

After a while Steve eventually found you. Pulling up in his new truck and bursting the bubble with a loud honk. He took you both back to the apartment where everyone fussed over you, bringing hot chocolate and a hot water bottle as they finished off decorating the tree. After Eddie placed the star on top, he led you to his bedroom to find dry clothes.

You turned his gaze back to you when you undressed, kissing him once he helped you into one of his t-shirts; his Slayer one he so loved to see you in. You swayed back and forth for a moment before returning to the mayhem, the snow still falling heavily outside the window.

“Merry Christmas, sweet girl.”

He kissed your eyelids.

“Merry Christmas, Eddie.”

***

Christmas Eve

You’d actually fallen ill after that night, the snow-soaked clothes and below zero conditions culminating in a cough and a sore body. Eddie kept you in his bed and brought you cups of tea and soup.

Steve filled in for him when he went to tow his own van, and you threw a pillow at him when he said, “Aren’t you glad we dragged you down here now?”

By Christmas Eve you were feeling a little better, able to join in on the Secret Santa shenanigans, tucked under Eddie’s arm on the sofa. Dustin loved his tapes and gave you an awkward pat on the knee in lieu of a hug that could transfer germs. “I can’t afford the time off from school!”

You’re watching everyone’s interactions with each other, showing off presents, sharing stories, when Eddie untucks a red envelope from his back pocket.

“Merry Christmas.”

You beam at him, opening the card. Something falls into your lap. You pick up newspaper clippings with a confused furrow of your brow Eddie wants to kiss away.

They’re listings, for apartments in Indianapolis.

“Thought I’d beat Steve and Robin and steal you for myself. What do you think, roomie?”

You kiss him in response, leaning away when neither of you can keep your smiles from growing.

“Oh, I left your gifts at Robin’s.”

Eddie tilts his head, “You got me something?”

“Just some things I came across and put aside throughout the year. A couple of records, and this book I think you’ll like, and a new notebook ‘cause you’re always losing pages out of that black one.”

“You brought them with you?”

You shrug, “Yeah, well I figured I could just leave it under your tree and you’d think someone else got them.”

“I’d know it was you.” He smiles.

“Probably.”

He presses a kiss to your jaw, a bright flash distracting you behind your eyelids.

“Got ya.” Robin snatches the Polaroid from the camera’s slit, shaking it a couple of times before handing it to you with a wink.

It’s the perfect moment of contentment. Sharing a blanket on the sofa, eyes closed in peace, framed by the Christmas lights hanging on the wall.

It’s the first photo to be pinned on your fridge in your shared home.

Tagging: @bettyfrommars, @storiesbyrhi, @allthingsjoeq, and from last year @eddieslooneymoonie, @micheledawn1975 and @skrzydlak just in case x

[rmd-writes]

It’s the most ✨wonderful✨ time of year! AKA time for the annual RWRB Christmas fic exchange that I do with some friends every year. Would you believe that this is our fourth year doing this?

For the next 8 days, we’ll be posting a fic anonymously each day to the Don We Now (Even More) Gay Fanfiction collection on ao3. I’ll update this post with the links to each fic as they go up. The author reveals will be shared before New Year’s Eve ☺️

I’m so excited to see what everyone’s come up with!

Day 1: Home for the Holidays || M || 9.3k || a gift for @indomitable-love written by me, rmd

When Alex discovers that Henry's Christmas plans involve staying in their apartment alone, he does what any good roommate would do and drags Henry along to his family Christmas at the lake house. It's a win-win situation, since everything is better for Alex when Henry is around. Henry is his person. Completely fucking platonically, of course.

Day 2: Playing For The Other Team || E || 6.1k || a gift for @three-drink-amy written by @everwitch-magiks

Alex is the captain of his college lacrosse team. Henry captains the football team—or the soccer team, depending on who you ask. But if you think either team has their main rival within their own sport, you are very deeply wrong.

Or: two sports teams, both alike in dignity. In the Samson Memorial Stadium, where we lay our scene.

Day 3: The Thirteenth Duke || E || 10.7k || a gift for @villiageidiot written by @clottedcreamfudge

Alex is trying to find himself after his divorce, and Castle Llwynywermod seems like the perfect place to do it. Henry, the grumpy duke who owns the castle in question, strongly disagrees. This can only go well. (An 'A Castle for Christmas' movie fusion fic.)

Day 4: Ho for the Holidays || T || 6k || a gift for yours truly written by @villiageidiot

It sort of starts on New Year's Eve, although maybe it's actually Valentine's Day. But probably St. Patrick's Day. Well, whenever it starts, it ends on Christmas, but for good reason. Holiday hook-ups can only stay hook-ups for so long.

Day 5: Making a List, Checking it Twice || E || 18.6k || a gift for @athousandrooms & @dustratcentral written by @welcometololaland

When Alex lands a job house-sitting for an international man of mystery, he’s more than a little intrigued. According to Nora, the owner of the Brooklyn brownstone is a spy. According to June, he’s a prince. Alex is convinced his employer is a fifty-year-old man who loves tartan and ugly, porcelain homewares. Also, Alex might be flirting with his boss via a handwritten grocery list. Just a little bit.

Day 6: The Flight Before Christmas || M || 7.2k || a gift for @welcometololaland written by @indomitable-love

Alex loves his job. He gets to fly all over the world and see incredible places. It satisfies his restlessness and his need to always be on the move. But sometimes, Alex hates his job. Hates the passengers. One passenger in particular. --- or Alex is a flight attendant and Henry is his most-hated passenger.

Day 7: Baby, It’s Cold Inside || E || 12.6k || a gift for @clottedcreamfudge written by @three-drink-amy

Alex needs this trip. He needs it. Too many months have gone by since he and Henry were in the same place. It was so easy to get used to being in the same city. He feels like a different person than who he was the last time he saw Henry. Maybe that’s just because the last term felt like an eternity. As he looks at the map on the screen, the little plane icon gets closer and closer to England. If he shuts his eyes, he can feel Henry a bit more.

Day 8: I might just give you a chance (every-which way) || M || 8.4k || a gift for @everwitch-magiks written by @athousandrooms & @dustratcentral

Alex is on his holiday break, which is why he signs up to take on the bulk of helping his sister with her charity market stall. And while he does actually like the bustle and interactions with people that come with the job, he will admit only to himself that what he enjoys the most is antagonising his market nemesis, who, inexplicably with Alex’s ‘fuck you’ attitude, keeps coming around to make a daily purchase.

PS. If you're looking for more firstprince holiday fics you can find our earlier Christmas fic exchanges here: 2021, 2022 and 2023

cc: @welcometololaland @three-drink-amy @clottedcreamfudge @everwitch-magiks @athousandrooms

@indomitable-love @dustratcentral @villiageidiot

[princessjojo-x]

Love Notes

💝 it doesn’t matter how attractive other girls are compared to you, as long as you & him have mutual attraction written in your synastry chart. however, it doesn’t matter how pretty you are compared to other girls, he will still cheat on you if betrayal is written in your synastry chart.

💝 the longevity of a connection can be signified by saturn & vertex. vertex represents fated encounters. therefore, if no planets are aspecting vertex within the synastry chart, don’t bother wasting your time & energy on him, as that is definitely just an in-&-out connection. if two people are meant to be, theres gonna be hella aspects to vertex signalling a significant & worthwhile rxship.this is equally true for saturn. no saturn aspects = no longevity & no seriousness. ideally you want to see trines, sextiles, conjunctions & perhaps oppositions. square isn’t as fruitful or promising unless it’s to north node. any aspects (including square) between saturn & north node is wonderful bc it shows you have some shit to deal with in this lifetime (aka your rxship will be long lasting & worthwhile). side note: mercury aspecting saturn signifies these partners have serious conversations. mercury = communication, saturn = discipline & seriousness.

💝 the reasons you sometimes harmonise well with men, despite it not making sense astrologically: A) people you’ve spent a considerable amount of time with, for instance your family & friends, have similar placements to him. as a consequence, you’re very familiar & comfortable with that signs energy, despite not necessary being the most astrologically compatible with it. therefore, it’s useful to check the sun signs of the people closest to him, to learn what energy he’s accustomed too. B) despite having a disappointing synastry chart, you have hopeful & balanced composite chart. B) one of his placements falls into one of your following houses: 1H - energy you give off. 4H - emotional wellbeing & comfort. 5H - love, happiness & inner child. 7H - partnerships & relationships.

💝 our preferred house overlays could be indicated by our venus sign. for example, leo venus may enjoy 5th house synastry or scorpio venus may feel comfortable with 8th house synastry.

💝 your best match will not have similar placements to you but instead opposite energy to balance one another out. therefore, find someone with the energy you’re lacking.

💝 in regards to your natal chart, fifth house shows how you act in the beginning of rxships & your dating style (first dates, first kisses). eighth house shows how you act when feeling real connection & how you behave sexually.

💝 knowing which house of theirs your moon falls in, is the key to understanding how they perceive your emotional world & what area of life you give them comfort/nurture.

💝 if your mars squares/opposes a lot of their placements, that shows a lot of aggression from your end.

💝 in order to get over your ex using astrology, meet someone new who has their south node conjunct your ex’s moon, ascendant or venus.

💝 many couples share similar moon aspects in their natal chart. for example, partner A has moon square rising & partner B has moon opposite rising, both harsh aspects.

💝 many married couples have their rising in neighboring signs.

💝 often cancer & taurus placements end up together.

💝 the least compatible signs are taurus & virgo. the spark dies quickly & partners get irritated with each other as time goes on. but partners stay together bc the rxship “works” practically.

💝 starting a new rxhsip during venus rx is guaranteed to teach you a karmic lesson with a karmic partner.

💝 oddly enough, the same placements that indicate potential of becoming a stalker are the same placements that indicate being a victim of stalking. if you look at the charts of real stalkers & their victims, there's often similar aspects.

💝 high chance of compatibility if theres more harmonic aspects (trines, sextiles) than hard aspects (oppositions, squares) within synastry chart. however, you NEVER want a rxship with no challenging aspects bc that would be so boring & you’d both lose interest quick asf. we need that spice, that challenge, that potency.

💝 trine = the most positive aspect

💝 sextile = harmonious & ease

💝 square = challenge & action

💝 opposite = attraction & instability

💝 moon = represents a man’s spouse.

💝 venus = how we love & want to be loved. the type of woman men are attracted to

💝 mars = the type of man women are attracted to

💝 juno = venus & mars shows what partner we think we want but juno shows what marriage partner we need & will get. (leo)

💝 lust = represents desires & uncontrollable turn ons. lusts energy is not related to love or romance, no emotions involved, it’s abt our instincts.

[theywantedplayer]

MastersList

PromptList

It was another quiet night at the lake house, and you found yourself standing in the kitchen, mindlessly scrolling through your phone while you grabbed a glass of water. The usual crew was here, just like every summer—Cole, Trevor, and the Three Stooges, aka the Hughes brothers. Later in the week, more of their Michigan buddies would be arriving, but for now, you were content just savoring the peace of having everyone you grew up with under the same roof. It was rare since they were always apart during the season.

As close as you all were, there was a secret you’d been keeping from the guys. You and Quinn had started dating during one of the Vancouver Connections New Year’s Eve parties. You’d been one of the equipment managers with the team, and since there was a strict no-fraternizing policy with the players, you two had to keep it under wraps. It had been six months now, and every single one of those months had been the best of your life. The only reason you hadn’t told the others was because you’d been friends for so long, and you weren’t sure how they’d take it.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the creak of the old wooden stairs, signaling footsteps making their way toward the kitchen. You looked up and saw a half-awake, messy-haired Quinn stumbling toward you. A smile tugged at your lips as he rubbed his eyes, clearly still fighting sleep. You two had been assigned separate rooms, which meant he’d had to share a bed with Luke. He didn’t mind at first, but that was before he discovered Luke’s tendency to kick in his sleep.

It was still early in the morning when Quinn wandered over to you, glancing at the microwave clock and seeing it read 1:38. Everyone would have to be up at 6:00 to get ready for the boat trip, but here he was, drawn to you. You set your phone and glass of water quietly on the counter, and he took that as his cue to pull you into a warm embrace. You melted into him instantly, wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing him softly. He pulled away just enough to lean against the counter beside you, his gaze never leaving yours.

“What’s got you awake?” you asked gently, your fingers grazing the stray hairs falling across his forehead as you pushed them back.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied with a teasing smile, raising his eyebrows.

You couldn’t help but laugh at how cliché the moment felt—a tired late-night exchange in the kitchen, with both of you trying to make sense of why you were awake.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear it too” he chuckled, shaking his head and dismissing the playful line.

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence, side by side. Quinn leaned on his forearms against the counter while you absentmindedly ran your fingers through his hair, gently playing with the strands. It was moments like these, when the world outside was quiet and still, that you cherished the most. Since no one knew you were dating, you couldn’t be as affectionate as you usually would be in public—no kissing or hugging whenever you felt like it. But here, in this peaceful, private space, you could just be.

“Quinn,” you hummed softly, breaking the silence as you turned your gaze to meet his.

He hummed in response but continued to scroll through his phone. You smiled and continued to play with his hair, smiling just at the back of his head before saying, “I love you.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you knew Quinn was smiling. All he did was turn his head to look up at you.

“I love you too,” he smiled back.

Your hand moved from playing with the hair at the nape of his neck to running your finger along his jawline, just smiling at him. Quinn took advantage of the moment and turned his body so his lower back was leaning against the counter, your hand now reaching upwards towards his jaw.

“I really love you,” you whispered to him.

His smile grew a little bit bigger, and his eyebrows knitted with confusion at the sudden repeating affirmation.

“ I Really love you too,” he repeated back to me, a breathy laugh leaving his lips. Your hand moved to his broad chest, just holding it there as you looked up and smiled at him.

You still couldn’t believe that you were able to say that Quinn Hughes was in love with you. When you think back to the day that you formally met Quinn, it always brought a warm feeling too. You were walking through one of the hallways in Rogers Arena with a hot coffee in hand, trying to flip through the multiple pieces of paper on your clipboard with one hand, clearly struggling. You turned the corner to go to your office, but you were so engulfed with all the things you had to do marked on your clipboard that you didn’t see the captain of the Vancouver Canucks right around the corner, causing you to collide directly into him.

Your clipboard became unhinged, your papers went everywhere, and your coffee spilled all over him. You remembered how flustered you were when you looked up and saw that it was Quinn Hughes. Sure, you’d been in the room with the Canucks team multiple times and knew the players, but you’d never really talked to them or gotten to know them.

You just kept apologizing as if it was a reflex, moving your hand to try and wipe off the coffee from his Vancouver Canucks warm-up t-shirt until you realized you were basically rubbing his chest, and you froze and pulled your hand back.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” you repeated for the 100th time. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

You remembered when you looked up at Quinn after apologizing profusely, all he had was a dorky smile on his face, and he slightly laughed at your flusteredness.

“Don’t apologize, you’re good,” he knelt down to help you pick up your papers, and you followed him, picking them up as well.

As Quinn was picking them up, he knew he shouldn’t have been, but he was looking at what was on the papers. One of the papers that he picked up was printed tickets for the next game—your mom and your dad were coming to Vancouver to see you, and you thought it would be nice if you could use your discount and get them tickets, even though they were still quite pricey. Quinn picked up the piece of paper flipped it to show you and said:

“You bought tickets?” he said, as if it was something so crazy.

“Oh yeah, my mom and dad are coming into town, and I thought I would surprise them with tickets,” you told him, shrugging your shoulders.

“These were like $500 each,” he said, quite shocked, looking at the pieces of paper again, checking the seating, and seeing that it was right behind the Vancouver home bench.

“Yeah, I just really wanted to surprise them. My dad’s a huge Vancouver fan, and I wanted to give them good seats.” You really didn’t think it was a big deal that you spent a bunch of money on Vancouver tickets—thousands of fans do it every night.

“Do equipment managers not get tickets for free?” he asked, handing you the pieces of paper he picked up, and you both finally stood back up.

Why is he actually talking to me? you thought. You were one of the equipment managers, but you weren’t one of the most important ones. You were one of the newest hires; you’d only been there for a year. Most players just walked right past you, giving you a nod or a smile but never a conversation.

“A lot of the higher-ups get more of a discount. I just get a little bit, probably just for compensation,” you tried to act like it was no big deal, not wanting to make it seem like it was really a big problem to you.

“That’s bullshit. No way,” he scoffed, still slightly smiling. “The players get free tickets anytime they want to bring immediate family to games, sometimes even friends,” he informed you.

You laughed, but you weren’t sure if it was because you were nervous about the hotshot Vancouver captain talking to you or if you were just nervous. “As much as I want to be, I’m not an NHL player, so it’s just the way it goes, I guess.”

Quinn just shook his head in response. “No, that’s so dumb. I got you. I don’t have any friends or family coming tonight since it’s just a normal home game. I’ll get those tickets for you for free.”

You opened your mouth to speak for a second but immediately closed it. He was going to pay for my tickets? you thought? “You don’t have to do that, it’s totally fine,” you tried to be dismissive and wave him off, just thinking it was a nice thing to say, not something he would actually do, but he kept persisting.

“No, I’ll talk to somebody, I’ll get it done. That’s bullshit that you don’t get it for free.” You kept shaking your head at his words, but you knew this was going nowhere. You’ve worked in sports for a long time, and you’ve come to realize that men who play sports are even more stubborn than men in general.

“You said your dad’s a big Vancouver fan too, right?” he asked you.

You just simply responded with, “Yeah, yeah, he is.”

“It should be a clean swipe of a game. Here, I’ll give you my number so you can bring your parents down to meet the team if they want to.” He gently took the clipboard and the pen that was attached to it out of your hands and wrote his phone number on the ticket piece of paper.

You watched him as he wrote his number, but he was writing for too long for it to just be a number. Your heart was beating out of your chest. You couldn’t decide if he was just being nice or if he was hitting on you. You assumed that the whole entire Vancouver hockey team got girls every single night, so you didn’t want to read into it. He handed you back the clipboard. You were too nervous to even look down at the number with him standing in front of you.

“Just text me before the game so I know it’s your number, and I can let you know when they can come down. I’ll tell the guys and everything, don’t worry.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal like it was no big deal that your dad was about to meet his favorite team.

“Do your parents have jerseys?” he asked you, running his hands through his hair.

The whole entire time that he was talking to you, you completely forgot that he had coffee poured all over his navy blue shirt, and it seemed like he completely forgot too.

“Yeah, I know my mom has an old Luongo jersey, and my dad has a Garland jersey,” you informed him.

You were embarrassed to say it, but you smiled at the sound of his laugh, hearing that your dad had a Connor Garland jersey.

“Oh my God, Garland’s going to chirp me about that forever,” he laughed.

“Why would he chirp you?” you asked, curious.

You were pretty sure that the players and the team didn’t even know your name. One or two of them would just call you by your last name if they actually needed you for something. God forbid they’ve never seen your office, so they would never see your name tag outside on the wall.

“No, it’s nothing. Don’t worry,” he laughed, dismissing it as he took a step back, signaling that he was going to leave to get ready for the game tonight. “Just make sure you text my number before you bring your parents down, okay?”

You cleared your throat before you spoke, watching him walk away but for some reason, he looked back at you multiple times, smiling.

“Yeah, I will. Don’t worry. Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I could do.” He smiled, sending you a quick wave. “I’ll see you tonight, Y/n.”

What? You were genuinely shocked to hear that Quinn Hughes even knew your name. This was the first time you’d ever really talked to him. You held your clipboard in one of your hands tightly just out of pure nervousness and looked down, seeing his number on your receipt paper for your tickets. And you also noticed the small note he left:

Sorry for spilling your coffee, I guess I’ll just have to take you out and get you another one sometime.

You still can’t believe that that was how you met your boyfriend, now 6 months later. When you went to work that day, you never expected to get Quinn Hughes’s number, have him reimburse you for two tickets behind the home bench, and also allow your parents to meet the whole entire team and get their jerseys signed.

And he did pay you back for that coffee. He still does it every morning. As for his teammates, they just think that he did something nice for one of the workers at Rogers Arena, but he was really trying to impress you and find an excuse to see you again.

It was still just you and Quinn in the kitchen, and you both knew that you had to go to bed if you were going to get up early to get on the boat with the guys in the morning. You slightly patted his chest, signaling that it was time to get moving.

“I want you to spend the night with me,” you whispered to him.

He tilted his head at you for a quick second.

“I’ll have to go back to Luke’s room before he wakes up then,” he told you, squeezing your waist slightly.

“I know,” you whispered, grabbing his hand and leading him back to your room.

[kamaluhkhan]

all the love we had and lost

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

summary: you come back to cousins beach after a few years away. conrad is not particularly happy that you're back - and you aren't particularly thrilled, either. too bad there's a history (chemistry?) neither of you can deny.

warnings: lots of plot + flashbacks. angst with fluff in betweem. slightly suggestive dialogue/situations but nothing more than the actual show, a guy being pushy about hooking up with reader but nothing happens, mention of injuries and blood throughout, hints of alcoholism, brief mention of dieting (reader is competitive swimmer and deals with certain pressures from that), reader gets her period, takes on too much responsibility and argues with her mother (aka eldest daughter syndrome)

tags: @stargirlsirius-recs, @ifilwtmfc, @qwertyb2577, @allnrsnz, @baconeggndcheez, @peanutbelley, @imogen-skye, @geekinthefuschiahair, @tvije,

a/n: thank you thank you thank you for so much love on my first conrad fic!! i'm so excited to share the rest of the series, so stay tuned :))

read part one here

the best friends of our childhoods are the loves of our lives, and they break our hearts in the worse ways. (fredrik backman)

now — summer, age 18

you throw in some extra sprinkles, along with a few more tablespoons of sugar. belly has a huge sweet tooth. it's the night before her birthday, and you're in the kitchen at the fisher's house baking her coconut confetti cupcakes. 

born on june 21st — the summer solstice — belly conklin is the definition of a summer child. she's summer, personified: sunshine, sweet tea, sand, and smiles. having missed so many birthday celebrations, you’re determined to make this year special.

you go to the fridge to grab some eggs, and when you close the door, you're startled by the person standing behind it.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, holding a hand to your chest and setting the carton of eggs on the counter. the joy you felt making birthday cupcakes for belly fades away, replaced with a tingling in your chest. you and conrad hadn’t spoken more than three sentences to each other, or even been in the same room alone, since that morning on the beach. as the distance between the two of you grew, so did your frustration at him. 

conrad raises his eyebrow at you. he reaches around you into the fridge and pulls out a beer. 

"i should be asking you that." 

"the oven at my house is broken and your mom said i could come over."

“i’ve heard that one before,” he mumbles as he leaves the kitchen. you almost can’t believe he brought it up, even if just in a passing, somewhat snarky remark. conrad probably thought you didn’t hear.

these past few weeks, conrad hasn't just been cold towards you — which was a relief as much as it was heart wrenching. he seems more closed off in general, more inclined to spend time with others who hadn't seen him grow up. in fact, you imagine he’s on his way to see nicole now. maybe with her, he can pretend everything is fine. but not with the people in this house, who knew him inside and out.

you would never admit it — if conrad wants to ignore you, you could ignore him just fine — but it was eating you up inside, and it took everything in you not to confront him, to comfort him about whatever he was going through. you’d have arguments when you were kids, but it was nothing a ring pop or tub of cherry jello couldn’t solve. this time is different; the wound is deeper, harder to heal.

you wanted the old conrad back: the sweet boy who cared for you and let you care for him in return. 

then — summer, age 14

belly was turning 12, and you wanted to surprise her with homemade cupcakes for breakfast. only, the oven at your house was broken, which meant your intention of baking her birthday treats would have fallen through, if not for susannah’s ever-present generosity. 

everyone else was out of the house — you even asked laurel and susannah to take belly shopping to not ruin the surprise. you were decorating the cupcakes when conrad walked in from the deck. his wet hair stuck to his forehead and he was wearing a rash guard, so he probably got back from surfing. he looked paler than usual, even after being in the sun for hours, but you didn’t think much of it at first.

“hey,” he greeted, sounding slightly out of breath. “what are you doing here?” 

“the oven at my house is broken, so your mom said i can come over to bake these for belly’s birthday tomorrow.” you gestured at the clumsily decorated treats. the cupcakes had bright pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles. you weren’t a professional by any means, but knew that belly would love them.

“but i’m sure she wouldn’t miss one or two, if you wanna try one,” you offered, smiling at conrad.

he smiled back, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “yeah. yeah, let’s do that. i’m just gonna get changed first.”

conrad walked past you, and that’s when you noticed him limping — along with a bloody gash just below his left knee.

you instantly dropped the spatula back into the half-empty frosting bowl.

“connie, what the hell happened?”

“i’m fine,” he answered. “i wiped out, got cut by the fin of my board.” conrad must have noticed your eyes widened with worry because he grabbed your wrist gently, thumb rubbing soothingly on your pulse point. he was bleeding out on the kitchen floor, and there he was, trying to make sure you were okay. 

“i’m fine,” he reassured. 

the blood dripping down his leg suggested otherwise. years ago conrad would faint at the sight of blood, and though he’d mostly outgrown that, you knew it still made him queasy. you imagined the pain definitely wasn’t making it easier. without another word, you pulled him into the bathroom and made him sit on the edge of the bathtub. you washed your hands then sat cross-legged in front of him.

“you here to fix me up, sweetheart?” he smirked as he watched you gather supplies from the cabinet underneath the sink, your brows furrowed in concentration.

“what?” you paused, almost laughing. until you saw his wound again, and you got back to work.

“it’s from the hunger games,” he explained. “when katniss finds peeta in the arena? and he’s all, like, injured.”

“well, he was definitely in worse shape than you,” you assured. “your cut’s not that deep, it just looks bad.”

“it doesn’t feel great, either.”

conrad exhaled sharply when you started applying pressure to his leg with a damp washcloth. you placed your other hand on his right knee.

“it’ll be fine, connie. i’ve got you. keep your eyes on me, okay?”

he looked down at you, wet hair framing his face as he offered a short nod. 

you gestured at him to take over, and your fingers brushed together when he grabbed the washcloth, but he never looked down. his eyes still followed you as you searched the bathroom for something to cover his wound.

a comfortable silence followed. the two of you used to spend hours talking, sure, but what you loved about spending time with conrad is that silence didn't bother him. you could each be in your own worlds while in the comfort of each other's company, and that was enough.

once the wound was cleaned and the bleeding slowed down, you placed a gauze pad over his cut before wrapping a cloth bandage around it.

“i’m pretty sure it’s ‘you here to finish me off, sweetheart?’,” you remembered.

conrad shook his head. “i’m pretty sure it’s not. i’ve read the book like, three times.”

you move to sit next to him on the edge of the tub.

“how sure are you, connie? because i’m pretty damn sure.”

conrad shrugged. “i’m pretty damn sure, too.” 

you rolled your eyes, but with a smile. “okay, fine. we’ll check. but, when you see how wrong you are, you have to come with me to see jaws 2.” it was playing at the local movie theatre during their weekly throwback thursday — you and belly had seen it advertised on your way home from getting ice cream. you had wanted to ask conrad, but couldn’t find the right time.

because you hadn’t meant it to be a date, but you also hadn’t not meant it to be. something changed about how you felt towards conrad that summer; or, maybe, you just figured out what was different about the love you felt towards him compared to everyone else. 

(yes, love. again, something you would never admit.)

you thought maybe — maybe he felt it too. there was something different in the way he teased you, laughed with you, looked at you when he thought you couldn’t notice.

you did notice. it happened so much that eventually you decided that either it was all in your head and he didn’t love you that way, or he was also scared of what would happen if he did. which, to be fair, was the position you were in. you were very scared of what would happen if you crossed that line.

“i’ll agree to that,” conrad said. “if you agree to having a picnic with me on the beach. if i have to face my fear of sharks, then you have to face your fear of angry seagulls stealing your food.”

a picnic on the beach. you wondered if this was conrad’s way of subtly asking you on a date. did he also want to cross that line, become something other than friends? he looked at you so eagerly, you hoped he did.

“fine.” you held out your hand. “but you have to protect me from angry seagulls.”

conrad smiled at you brightly as he grasped your hand. 

“always.” 

in the end, conrad lost the bet. the screening of jaws 2 was cancelled, so you rented it from the video store instead. you got his favourite movie snacks, and some of yours as well, and made sure the couch had the comfiest pillows and the warmest blanket. you felt butterflies just thinking about the two of you watching together, cuddling on the couch. 

when the time came though, your plans fell through. the playdates your siblings had lined up both cancelled. your mother had plans to meet a friend at the bar, and claimed she couldn't reschedule. by then your parents were divorced and your father was elsewhere with his new girlfriend, so it fell to you to babysit your siblings.

conrad came over anyway: he helped you make rice and lentils for dinner, convinced your brother to eat his vegetables, and let your sister paint his nails. the four of you watched night at the museum and ate all the junk food you had gotten, with you and conrad sitting on opposite ends of the couch, but stealing glances and shy smiles at each other. when your mother came home, a bit after midnight and a little tipsy, she got angry that you’d kept the twins up so late and cheated on the diet she had so carefully planned for you — to keep you in shape for swimming, she claimed. you rolled your eyes, and that made her angrier. without you saying anything, conrad took the twins upstairs to get ready for bed as you and your mother argued. by the time conrad walked back downstairs, your mother had gone into the living room for another drink and you were in tears. he asked if you were okay, and you told him to go home.

you never talked about that night again, and everything went back to the way it was: with neither of you crossing that line.

now

the only reason you let belly drag you to nicole’s party is because it’s her birthday. 

as soon as you enter the house, nicole and the other debutantes whisk belly away to a table filled with elaborate cakes. you can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed by how elegant they look in comparison to the cupcakes you made her. 

"come on," taylor groans. "let's get a drink."

taylor grabs two beers and hands one to you. you gratefully accept. the two of you catch up for a bit, when suddenly jeremiah starts serenading belly in an outrageously funny musical number. you laugh along with them, until you catch a glimpse of conrad with nicole on the couch at the other end of the room. nicole is sitting in conrad's lap, and she leans over to whisper something in his ear before kissing his cheek. your entire body heats up.

conrad was right before: you were jealous. as frustrated as you were with him, you were even angrier at yourself for feeling that way. 

"i’m gonna go find the bathroom!” taylor says, practically shouting over the music. 

"okay!” you yell back. “i’m gonna go get another drink." 

you know all too well that it isn’t a good habit to get into, but you need something stronger if you’re going to survive this party. you examine the drink table, finally picking out some mediocre tequila. you take a shot, then another.

“tequila. my kind of girl.” someone declares, creeping up behind you. 

it’s a terrible pick up line, and you already have a feeling that the guy trying to flirt with you is some rich entitled asshole. 

but, the guy — liam — can hold a decent conversation, and he’s cute enough.

he’s no conrad, though. you take another shot when that thought crosses your mind, and force yourself to flirt with leo. liam. right, liam.

liam leans in close, pretends to listen to you, lets his gaze linger on the deep v-neck of your shirt. you’re so close, you can smell the alcohol on his breath. 

“five minutes,” you boast after he asks how long you can hold your breath underwater. somehow, the conversation veered towards your time as a competitive swimmer. you’re just the right amount of tipsy that your inhibitions start fading away.

“wow,” liam says. “i have to say, i’m glad you didn’t have that training camp this summer.”

you bat your eyelashes at him. “oh? why is that?” you lean closer, trailing a finger down his chest.

“because then i wouldn’t be able to do this.” 

liam kisses you then, and you kiss back. he slides his tongue in your mouth, runs his hands over your body. you feel nothing. it’s fine.

“let's go upstairs.”

liam’s grabbing your wrist before you have a chance to answer. as he tries to tug you up the stairs, your eyes meet conrad’s from across the room.

suddenly, you feel nauseous. you rip away from liam’s grip and place a hand on the wall next to you to steady yourself.

liam turns around sharply. “what is it?”

“i changed my mind, actually. let’s just hang out downstairs.”

liam grabs your wrist again, his grip tighter than before. “don’t be a tease.” 

this time, your voice comes out louder. “i just changed my mind. that doesn’t make me a tease.”

“don’t be a bitch, then,” he scoffs, and you’re this close to breaking this guy’s nose. “do you wanna fuck, or not?”

“i don’t,” you answer instantly, struggling to break free from his grip. 

“okay, whatever. we don’t have to go all the way, but we can still go upstairs, and have a good time.”

he manages to drag you up two steps as you strain against his iron grip, now almost cutting off your circulation. your heartbeat quickens and you feel dizzy. finally, you grab onto the railing for leverage, forcing liam to stop in his tracks.

“what is it now?” he groans.

“just stop, liam.”

“listen,” he starts, speaking to you almost mockingly, like you’re a naive little girl. “i know what girls want, so you don’t have to be shy. we’re going upstairs right now and —”

“liam, is it?” the rest of the party is in full motion, but here’s belly, giving liam one of the most intense death stares you’ve ever seen. belly, who if you cut open, would bleed sugar. “i’m gonna have to ask you to let go of my friend.”

“whatever,” liam answers, rolling his eyes. “if you don’t mind, we’re kinda in the middle of something.” he tries to move you forward, but you stand your ground.

jeremiah is also glaring at liam from the bottom of the stairs, his golden retriever personality long gone. “back off, man,” he warns.

“just mind your own business,” liam snaps.

“they said leave her alone,” steven asserts, walking over once he sees what’s happening. “and you don’t wanna mess with us, trust me.” he clenches his hand into a fist as if proving a point.

in other situations, you and belly have definitely teased steven for his tendency to act all tough, but right now, you couldn’t be more grateful.

“who the fuck are you? her bodyguards?” 

“just let her go,” belly orders. 

“i think she can speak for herself. she wants this, but if you’re jealous, you can join, too.” 

your stomach churns. liam leans in close to whisper in your ear. “maybe we’ll see if those 5 minutes come in handy when you’re sucking my —”

as soon as liam lets go of your wrist, his hand trailing downward, you shove him away and punch him in the nose before he can finish his sentence. you deliver a final blow to liam’s ego as he’s doubled over:

“what i want is for you to leave us the fuck alone. there are other people in this house who i’d rather hook up with. people who aren’t complete assholes with fancy cars to compensate for their tiny dick.”

the flirtatious smile falls from liam’s face, replaced with the kind of anger only rich entitled assholes have when they don’t get what they want — figures that he only gets the hint when it literally hits him right in the nose. he’s angry enough to deliver a punch right back to your face. 

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you fall down the stairs, but belly manages to catch you before you hit the ground. she holds you as jeremiah and steven step in front. you hear them shouting at liam over the music, but their exact words don’t register.

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and the room is suddenly all fuzzy.

“i’ve got her.” conrad’s calm and measured voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist. “go find cam — the rest of us have been drinking, but he can drive her home.”

somehow, you find yourself in a bathroom, sitting on the counter as conrad stands between your legs. he carefully examines your injury, but you notice how he avoids making eye contact. 

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the alcohol, or the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while — probably a dangerous mix of all three. 

“you here to fix me up, sweetheart?” the question slips past your lips before you could stop it.

conrad looks slightly amused, and he finally meets your gaze. “that’s not the line,” he deadpans. you know (from trying not to but ultimately not being able to pull your attention away from him all night) that he’s had a few drinks as well; it seems like the two of you ignore each other best when you’re sober.

but, still, he remembers. his comment earlier and his smile right now is all the confirmation you need: somewhere in the back of his mind, he replays memories of you. no matter how cold he acts towards you, he still cares.

he continues wiping the blood off your face. “how’s your hand?” he asks.

you flex your fingers, inspect your hand. “it’s been better,” you answer, though your knuckles are slightly aching. “worth it.”

“i guess all those years away made you a badass.”

all those years away. the reminder feels like a stab to the heart, but you wouldn’t let it burst the comfortable bubble you and conrad had somehow stumbled into. 

instead, you offer him a lopsided smile.

“oh, connie,” the nickname rolling off your tongue with ease. “i was always a badass.”

“yeah, yeah. but it’s different now. you’re different.” he pauses. you’re worried he’s going to say something else. 

but he doesn’t. instead, he asks, jokingly: “did you join a fight club or something?” 

you take that as a good sign: like you, he’s trying to preserve the playfulness between you before everything else seeps in and ruins it, before you’re brought back to the present, where you’re both heartbroken and not talking to each other. 

“you know the first rule of fight club —”

“don’t talk about fight club,” you finish together. 

conrad laughs, even though it’s not that funny. you laugh, too. 

a silence falls over you, one that’s not unfamiliar, but not entirely comfortable either. conrad holds the cloth against your nose to make sure the bleeding stopped. 

it seemed to be a strange pattern between you two — being there for each other when you bleed.

then — summer, age 12

it was the end of july when you got your first period. 

you had made lunch for your siblings and walked them to their day camp, when you suddenly felt an ache in your abdomen. that ache turned into a sharp pain by the time you got home, and you ran to the bathroom to confirm what you’d suspected. 

that afternoon, mr. conklin was taking all the kids to mini golf, but you weren’t feeling up for it. you texted belly about what happened and spent the rest of the day curled up in bed.

you didn’t hear him knock over the sound of the movie you were watching, but suddenly you saw conrad standing by your door, holding a bag from the candy shop. 

“jesus, connie, you scared me!” you exclaimed, pausing the movie. 

he smiled sheepishly and flopped down on the bed next to you. “belly told me you weren’t feeling well. here.” he handed you the bag. 

you opened the bag, grateful that conrad picked out your favourite treats. you take one and bite into it. your stomach growled — you hadn’t eaten earlier because you felt nauseous, but now you could eat that entire bag in one go.

“how was mini golf?” you asked, popping another treat into your mouth.

“it was awesome! i finally managed to get past that giant hippo and get a hole-in-one. i got the highest score.”

you frown, wishing you had been there. if anything, to beat conrad’s score. 

“don’t worry, we’ll go back another time,” conrad added. “you can beat me then.” sometimes, you swore conrad could read your mind. he then asked if you were feeling better.

“no. i got my period,” you huffed. “it sucks.”

“oh.” conrad adjusted his glasses, a sign that he felt awkward. “i’ve heard about those. they sound pretty brutal.”

“health class?”

“no. my mom, actually.”

health class wasn’t much help for you either, and neither was your mother. you were lucky enough to have susannah and laurel, who had explained everything to you and belly. 

“anyway, what are you watching?”

“the hunger games,” you answer. “i just finished the book.”

“cool.” 

conrad didn’t move — he actually leaned back against the pillows even more — so you figured he wanted to stay. you moved the laptop so it sat between the two of you and started playing the movie again.

“you know, it doesn’t seem fair that you miss out on having fun just because of your period,” conrad said as katniss finds peeta injured in the arena.

you frown, about to point out that he has no idea how painful cramps can be.

he lifted his hand up to stop you. “not that i can judge what you’re going through. i’m just saying when it’s this bad, instead of being alone, just text me, and i’ll be there.”

when the time came, he watched movies with you in bed. he brought you junk food and pain killers. he even biked to the store when you’d run out of pads.

he was there for you, just like he promised.

now

those moments from past summers now feel warm and sickly sweet, like popsicles melting in the sun — then again, that might just be the remnants of tequila flowing through your veins. you think about what happened earlier, how belly, jeremiah, and steven stepped in to protect you. how conrad is here with you now, taking care of you so tenderly even after you’ve ignored each for so long. it’s like nothing changed. but once you leave this bathroom and the alcohol leaves your system, it wouldn’t be the same. you feared you'd never get that magic back, and that weighed on your chest so much, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“why’d you go for liam, anyway?” conrad asks, breaking you away from your thoughts. he removes the cloth from your nose so you can answer, and the bleeding seems to have finally stopped.

“you really wanna know?”

“yeah. liam’s an asshole. and you’re…” conrad places his hands on either side of your thighs, leaning close. “you.”

“i went for liam because….well, honestly, i didn’t care who it was, as long as they made me forget you,” you admit, because what did you have to lose. you probably have a broken nose, you definitely have blood on your shirt, and your time with conrad is running out. 

conrad’s eyes darken. his fingers start to play with the hem of your shorts. 

“did it work?” his voice is a whisper, but he’s so close that it’s crystal clear.

“no.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on conrad’s. it's not the most elegant kiss — it's messy, urgent, with your noses bumping together, and teeth clacking against each other. he cradles your face in his hands, and you wrap your legs around his waist to bring him closer. you taste beer on his tongue, and maybe a hint of lime, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. you tangle your hands into his hair, and you swallow his moan as you gently tug. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the alcohol or adrenaline, but dizzy from him.

when you run out of air, feeling like your lungs could burst, you pull away. conrad’s gaze is heavy on yours as he traces your top lip with his thumb.

“connie,” you whimper, itching to kiss him again. 

“you’re still bleeding.”

conrad wipes away your blood with the cuff of his flannel. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s a knock on the door. jeremiah, letting you know that it’s time to go. 

and, just like that, the moment is gone. 

a few days later, belly invites you over for a girl’s night. you paint each other’s nails, eat sour candy, and watch rom coms, just like you used to. she updates you on debutante season, the argument she had with taylor, and her blossoming feelings for jeremiah. you let it slip that you and conrad kissed at nicole’s party, though you admit you aren’t sure what it means — as if you hadn’t spent hours and hours thinking about the kiss, about him. belly gives you a knowing smile, but you change the subject before she can comment any further.

you’re halfway through 10 things i hate about you when belly falls asleep. you grab your phone, deciding to finally reach out to conrad, when you get a text from him.

he’s already on the dock when you arrive, looking out onto the water. 

“hey,” you greet as you stand next to him. “i was actually about to text you —”

“did you tell belly that we kissed?” he interrupts. you can’t quite read his expression as he waits for you to answer.

“no, i didn’t,” you lie. “but…would it matter if i did?”

“well, i mean, belly’s close to nicole and i don’t want her finding out," conrad explains. his words are deliberate, and you suspect he'd spent some time perfecting what to say to you. so far, you didn't like where this was going. conrad delivers another blow:

"it’s not like it meant anything.”

you feel like you could shatter into a million pieces right then and there.

“it didn’t?” you hate how fragile your voice sounds, compared to conrad’s stoic demeanor.

conrad shrugs. “i mean, we were both drunk and the thing with liam happened, so we just got caught up in the heat of the moment.” 

“you’re saying there’s nothing between us, then? nothing other than friendship?”

he turned away before he answered. “no. nothing.”

“then what about last summer?” you demand. you force yourself to keep it together, your tone firmer than before. “i guess that didn’t mean anything, either.”

“y/n…” he pauses, and you know you caught him off guard. “i don’t know what you want me to say. we’re barely even friends anymore. you come back here, after all this time, after so much shit has happened, and expect us all to drop everything to fit you back into our lives. but, you don't. we moved on. i moved on, and i can’t deal with you —" 

“got it,” you snap, already turning to walk away. “loud and fucking clear, conrad.” 

it’s not like it meant anything. we’re barely even friends anymore.

you replay conrad’s words as you crawl into bed next to belly, holding back tears as to not disturb her sleep.

you decide then that you didn’t love conrad anymore. you couldn’t because it would eat you up inside. 

then again, it doesn't seem like hating him would be any easier.

[vroomvroomcircuit]

Big Bird and his Cousins

(A/N): Thank you to @mclarengf for telling me about Big Bird getting shrunk and sharing the twitter thread with me

Summary: A small missing information nearly got Max and Lando into a fistfight aka this is my chance to tell more people about Big Birds eight international cousins

Pairings: driver!reader x f1!grid, but especially Max Verstappen and Lando Norris, Checo, Carlos and Zhou got more of a guest appearing

Wordcount: 1.3k

🏎Masterlist🏎

______________________

Most of the drivers have no problem with driving in the rain. But in a downpour straight from the seven pits of hell? That’s something even Max Verstappen says “no” to.

A considerable amount of the grid stays seated in the conference room, where they just got told that qualifying will be delayed by at least several hours. As soon as they were dismissed, (Y/N) sprinted out of the room, uttering something about a small bladder and long meetings and how they clash in the worst way possible.

“Have you seen what they did to Big Bird from Sesame Street? They made him tiny for the past week!” Lando complains loudly to Carlos while scrolling through his twitter feed. But the Spaniard is confused.

“I don’t know who you are talking about, mate.” He thinks for a second. “Oh, do you mean Caponata? They made her small?!” Carlos’ face lights up, remembering the bird fondly. It’s not something you think about every day, isn’t it?

Lando looks at his friend with a befuddled face . “No, you muppet! Big Bird is a yellow bird that is very tall.” Max, who heard the conversation involuntarily, because the Brit speaks passionately loud about this subject, turns towards the other two drivers.

“I don’t know what kind of off brand Sesame Street you two have watched, but the real name of the tall bird is Pino and Pino is pale blue.” His matter-of-fact voice sets something in Lando off. It just doesn’t sit right with him that Max acts almighty and knowledgeable about a topic he read something himself with his own two eyes.

He gets up from his seat, taxing the Dutchman with a belittling up and down look. “If I was you, I would get my eyes checked, because Big Bird is a bright yellow! Watch out for color blindness.” Max also squares up, getting toe to toe with Lando, getting ready to shoot back. “I can show you how good my eyesight is the next time I’ll drive an orange car with the number four off the track.” “It’s papaya!” Lando pulls up the sleeves to his hoodie, getting ready for a fight that goes beyond spoken words.

“No!” Checo intervenes, putting himself between the two drivers. In the meantime the majority of the remaining people in the room put their attention on the, for now verbally, fighting men. “The name of the bird is Abelardo Montoya and the colors are green, red and a bit of pink. Stop arguing about stuff you know nothing about. Also, I’m older. So I'm right.”

His confident statement attracts the arguments from Max and Lando. “You are absolutely wrong!” “Big Bird is not green!” “No, because Pino is a beautiful blue color!” “Shut it, Verstappen, or I’ll show you the way your skin will bruise a beautiful blue!” “Step away, Norris. You are like 12 and build like a stick. You have not the strength to show me anything.”

“Are you sure? Let’s take this outside and I shove a stick up you a-” “What is going on in the house of commence?” (Y/N)’s voice cuts through the noise sharply. The room falls silent for several seconds until everyone tries to explain themselves at the same time.

“Big Bird is yellow!” “No, his name is Pino and he is pale blue!” “No, she is orange and yellow and is called Caponata!” “No, it’s a green bird, you all know nothing!” “Sh, be quiet, Checo!”

(Y/N) sits down on her chair again and waits for them to get finished scrambling to find an excuse to defend their ego. “Did you ask Pierre what Big Bird looks like for him?” She smirks.

Pierre also smiles knowingly, all eyes on him. “We call our Big Bird Toccata and he is white.” Especially Lando tries to defend himself and his Big Bird another time very loudly. But (Y/N) is having none of it. She put her hand over his mouth, muffling his protests while starting an explanation of her own.

“Did you know that Big Bird has eight international cousins? They are part of Sesame Street from other countries all around the world.” While she starts explaining, Lando’s face drops. “While most versions have a yellow bird like the Big Bird Lando references the whole time, they call them different names. In German he is named Bibo, ask Hülkenberg. In the Netherlands, Brazil and France, they got some versions of Big Bird’s cousins. I think in China they changed his name to the literal translation of Big Bird, but he still counts as one of the cousins. They explain it by calling them identical cousins.”

She throws a look to Zhou, who nods in confirmation and adds “His name is Da Niao”. “The cousins also live in Spain, Portugal and Turkey. Did you not know about this? I thought it was common knowledge. It was all over Twitter a couple of years ago. Now I see the threat every now and then again on tiktok with some minecraft gameplay in the background playing.”

Max mulls over the new information. “This explains everything.” Meanwhile Lando is a bit more shocked. “So I nearly got into a fist fight with Max Verstappen, because someone in some writer’s room decided to give Big Bird cousins and never said anything in the show?”

(Y/N) throws him a confused face. “What do you mean you nearly got into a fist fight? Those are muppets from a kids show! How can you pick a fight over muppets in different colors? They are not even real? In what way does this warrant to get physical?”

Well, if you put it like that, it sounds a bit irrational. Maybe silly even. Of course, no one says this outloud, but the faces all around are enough confirmation for the female driver.

“Gosh, that’s childish. But on the topic of Sesame Street: Have you seen the tweets about Big Bird being shrunk? I need justice for Big Bird!” And so a new discussion starts about the sense behind Big Bird being tiny.

A few hours later the track is cleared again after the storm eventually cleared up. Qualifying can finally start.

The interviews after are relaxed in a way no one expected and most of the newer drivers have never experienced before. Maybe it is the collective relief that qualifying is over without any more delays due to the weather or other problems.

“Coming to the last question,” the journalist closes up her post quali interview with (Y/N), “How did you pass the time until today’s session started? Did all the drivers have another Fifa tournament? Or was it Mario Kart this time?”

The female driver laughs a bit about the joke. “Oh no, not this time. I wouldn’t play Fifa with them anyways, I’m too competitive for that and not good enough at this game at the same time. But I’ll keep the Mario Kart idea in my head for the next skyfall rain. But today I was able to educate the boys on some Sesame Street lore, specifically about Big Bird’s eight international cousins.”

The reporter has a bemused face on. “I never heard of them.” “There is a link on the wiki page regarding Big Bird, dedicated to them. It’s amazing and super cute. Look it up!” (Y/N) winks into the camera.

This is the story of how breaking up a close call to a fist fight between two very stubborn drivers led to (Y/N) being a feature on Sesame Street. And how the trend of #justiceforBigBird across many social media platforms became a thing afterwards.

[bet-on-me-13]

Cass joins Team Phantom

So, we all know how Cass escaped her terrible dad at the age of 8 right? And how she is adopted by Batman at the age of 16-17 right? Well, what happened in between that time?

Cass has been on the run for Years now. She is 13, and at this point she has been on the run for nearly half of her entire life. So it's really no wonder that when she finally got to a relatively safe place after weeks of little food, little rest, and constant attacks by her pursuers, she accidentally fell asleep.

She woke up in a nice comfy bed, in a room that looked like an Astronomy Geek's dream. Once the people who found her noticed she was awake, they explained what had happened.

Their son, a boy named Danny, had found her passed out in their Shed the previous day while cleaning up. He had quickly brought her in and offered his Room so she could rest comfortably.

Cass doesn't really trust them, and tries to run more than once, but her weeks of constant exhaustion have finally caught up with her and she is stuck staying with them until she is fit to leave.

And unfortunately for her, the Fentons are very Endearing.

By the time she is healthy enough to leave, she genuinely wants to stay. So they unofficially adopt her, letting her stay in their house and sharing a room with Jazz (Danny did kind of need his room back, and Jazz was a good sister like that)

She ends up going to the same school as Danny and ends up befriending both of his friends, Tucker and Sam.

The day of the Accident, Cass is right there alongside Tucker and Sam as the Portal kills Danny.

After the Accident, she is a great help in teaching him some calming routines and meditation techniques so he can get a handle on his Powers much easier.

They also find out that standing in front of a Portal as it rips reality apart is just as bad as being inside of it. They all end up extremely liminal and get Powers. Tucker has Technomancy, Sam has Plant Powers, and Cass gets Shadow Manipulation (or whatever you think fits her)

She is having the best time of her life, but unfortunately it can't last forever.

About 2 years after the Accident, the GIW get a lucky shot on Danny. They were using one of the inventions the Fenton's had made before the Reveal (which was a good one) one that made Ghost Powers weaker for easier capture. While it didn't hurt Danny too much, it did weaken him enough that he flickered into his Human Form for just long enough for the GIW Agents to see him.

Now with Danny's identity exposed, the GIW could track down the Identities of the Humans who had been helping him all this time, aka, Tucker, Sam, and Cass.

During a Raid on Fenton Works, they all got seperated somehow.

Danny got injured protecting the Team, and had to be rushed to the Ghost Zone by Jazz, a stray shot from the GIW blowing up the Portal behind them. They ended up in the Far Frozen, to get Danny fixed up.

Tucker was arrested and sent to prison for a little while before a glitch in his cells Security System allowed him an opening to use his Powers to escape.

Sam was chased out of the Town by the GIW and ended up in the Forest nearby. She had to use her Powers to run away, disappearing too deep into the Woods for the GIW to follow.

Cass managed to sneak out, and ended up trying to save Tucker on his way to prison. She failed though, and the GIW chased her all the way to New Jersey before loosing her trail.

This is how she ended up in Gotham, and got adopted by Bruce Wayne. But she would never forget her first Family, and would try for years to see if she could find where they ended up.

Potential Part 2? Maybe, I have some ideas...

What do you think?

[dontborsch]

Guuyyys just made a concept of Jeffery’s mother in her late school years

Also I have a few her life story headcanons

Sarah (aka Jeffery’s mother) was one of the popular girls in her school, she was a sociable but sharp-tongued girl who was constantly surrounded by the big company of friends, one of which was her best friend Nora (the last pic below), with whom she dreamed of going to the same acting university in California and becoming famous actresses.

Sarah's family, which was quite conservative (her grandfather was Italian-American, so the family still had echoes of a strict Italian upbringing), did not share her dream, on the contrary, they insisted that the girl stay in Virginia, but Sarah and her rebellious teen spirit were going to go against the family in this matter.

She had Jeffery in age 19, and this event forced her to stay in hometown. Nora was able to go where both girls dreamed of going, and they even kept in touch for a while, but in the end their communication faded away. At the same time Sarah got enrolled in a local college as an elementary school teacher, but after a little more than a year, she had to drop out due to lack of time (in addition to studying, she had to take care of a small child).

Jeffery's father studied in a parallel class, and they had been dating for about five years at the time of their son’s birth. Despite his promises to help his girlfriend with their child, their relationship quickly cracked, which hit Sarah's condition hard.

As I mentioned, Sarah's family was quite conservative, and her relatives, especially her mother, insisted on Sarah's marriage (and continued to do so even after breaking up with Jeffery's father). Such constant pressure finally upset Sarah and her family, and she left home, settling first in a college dorm, and then moving to the houses of her few remaining acquaintances until she had saved enough money for rent (at that time, Sarah took on any part-time job but even at the time of 2008-09 she works in a cleaning service).

Upd: I also think that she coddles Jeffery a lot because he’s literally the only closest person to her.

Bonus artwork with Nora and their nerdy classmate