#and everyone around him is sighing shaking their heads

[whorelaud]

OFF LIMITS – rafe cameron ¡ (08)

social media & irl AU !

pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother. ch content mature content, nsfw; making out, nipple sucking, teasing, hickies, praise, dry humping (?), pet names, sexual tension, fluff!! sneaking around, fights and arguments, angst

NAVIGATION. series masterlist | 07 ! 08 ¡ 09

Your skin burned; heat radiating off your entire body throughout the whole meeting. Rafe’s gaze pierced holes through you, unable to keep his eyes away from you, even with your father mere inches away, the small distance barely separating you. 

The meeting soon came to an end, a sigh of relief escaping your throat the moment the elders shot up from their seats, shaking your parents’ hands as they bid goodbye’s. You scrambled to hide behind your mom, awaiting Rafe and your brother’s leave; just in case the latter puts you in the spot, offering to drive you back, and make things even more awkward than they were. 

After the incident with Ryan, you both tended to be more careful, sneaking around to spend time with each other once everyone fell asleep (like literally… you’d make Rafe double check whether Ryan fell asleep, not choosing to put yourself at risk with the situation). It was oddly thrilling, though your words spoke otherwise, you found joy in telling Rafe off as he drags you to a dim corner away from everyone’s eyes, a rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins the moment he connects your lips with his, the gesture assuring you in a way; pushing your worries down the pit of your stomach. 

Ryan was also keeping watch, although Rafe brushed off his assumptions, the latter insisted the phone was yours, growing more suspicious when Rafe snatched it before he could get a hold of it. Hiding the whole thing from your brother felt as if something bitter lodged in your throat, one you couldn’t bring yourself to swallow down. 

It was horrible, with the thrill and giddiness came worry and guilt, that even if you were happy, the voices in the back of your head would hold you back, reminding you of the hell you created out of yourself. You were at a point where all you could do was wait, enjoy each moment in hopes of it lasting forever, merely going with the flow for the sake of happiness you’ve forced yourself to appreciate, though it wasn’t worthy of, no amount of assuring convincing you otherwise. 

The deadline for your trip was approaching, with each passing second, minute, hour. And for that, you chose to push down your emotions, enjoy the company of your friends while they were within reach, knowing you weren’t going to see them for the next months; years, even. And Rafe, yeah, the mere thought of dealing with the long distance had you stressing, unable to handle him being a few hours drive away. 

In that short while you spent with your friends had a lasting impact, influencing a big part of your life, one you weren’t aware was missing. It was as if this trip was meant to heal you, pay off all your pain in sorrow with the company of others, even if not much was being done, as you spent most of your time hanging out on the beach near the Airbnb.  

You were still grateful, though, impatiently waiting to get home after your friends suggested a girls’ night out. You swiftly agreed, because who were you to refuse? Besides, you didn’t fully dislike the idea of it, as it would probably help get your mind off things.

You hurried to get changed upon your arrival, sprinting up the stairs with the intention of saving yourself a bit of time. You took an everything shower, styled your hair, did your makeup, and picked something out to wear, not wanting to delay your leave any longer, and waste the precious time your friends spared you. 

Everything was fine, until it came to finding your desired pair of shoes. A puzzled expression settled on your face once you realized your Converse were nowhere in sight, almost as if they vanished into thin air. You searched the entirety of the closet for them, growing panicked when Cleo soon seeked your presence, asking whether you were ready. 

“I can’t find my converse,” you answered, eyebrows knitting with frustration. “I’m sure I put them here, where did they go?” 

“Your converse?” Clep questioned, tilting her head as she observed the now mess of a closet. “I think I saw them in the garage, are they white?” 

“Yeah,” You perked up at that, standing to your feet in an instant. “Why are they in the garage?” 

“Girl, I don’t know.” Cleo chuckled, shaking her head. “You should grab them, we’re leaving in a few.” 

“Lifesaver.” you sighed, planting a brief kiss to her cheek before you were off to the garage, entering from the door attached to the kitchen. 

You fanned away the dust fogging your vision, attention shifting to the sun invading the space through the slightly open garage door. You quickly got to searching for your shoes, yelping with excitement when you spotted it lying around, along with your pair of white crocs (God knows how these ended up here). You hurried to put them on, struggling in the process, and sighing with relief after you managed to insert one of them around your foot. 

Your action cut short, breath hitching as a familiar hand sneaked around your waist, halting you in your spot. You wasted no time to turn around, eyes widening in shock when your gaze landed on Rafe, a knowing smile leisurely dancing around his lips at your reaction. 

“You showed up.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. “You took so long, I didn’t think you would.” 

“What are you doing?” Your lips parted in a gasp, shoving the latter by the shoulder. “The garage door is open, Rafe. What if someone saw you?!” 

“What, I can’t see my girl now?” His gaze flickered to your lips, leaning his arm over the chair you made yourself comfortable on. He then leaned forward, capturing your lips in a soft, yet deliberate kiss, instantly interrupted once you shoved him away.  “God, I’ve missed you.”

“Missed me?” You repeated through gritted teeth, “Were you the one who stole my shoes?” 

“What? No!” He said in between giggles, the cockiness in his tone immediately giving away the white lie. “You know I would never.” 

“You idiot!” You huffed, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “You’re gonna get us caught if you keep doing this.” 

“You barely make time for me now,” he pouted, watching as you strived to put the other pair of shoes on. “I had to take action, since someone is playing hard to get.” 

A scoff escaped your throat at the snarky comment, firmly tying the shoelaces into a knot before you stood to your feet, straightening your back to catch glimpse of Rafe, whose eyes followed your every move. 

“What if I never wore my converse?” You snickered, pursing your mouth into a thin line to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “Then what, would you have still waited for me?” 

“Without a doubt,” he replied with no hesitation. “I knew you’d wear them, though; you always do.”

“Whatever,” you playfully rolled your eyes, disregarding the way your face flushed with heat, expression giving your shyness away. “I need to leave.” 

“So soon?” His eyebrows curled with disappointment, as he pressed one of his hands to your hips, using the gesture to pull you closer. He tilted your head with the tip of his fingers, instantly crashing his lips into yours in a teasing kiss, teeth lightly grazing over your bottom lip before he pulled away. “I jus’ got ahold of you,” and another kiss, “care to spare me a few minutes?” 

“This is not working on me, Rafe.” You pushed him off, though you fully melted in his hold, wanting nothing but to get a taste of his lips again. “You know I can’t, Sarah will kill me if I’m late.” 

“There you go with Sarah,” he huffed, rolling his eyes as he moved away, giving you enough space to get through. “I don’t want you to leave.” 

“Well, I’m sorry.” You giggled, scrunching your nose at his reaction. “I’ll be back soon, don’t be upset.” You glimpsed around, eyeing the place carefully before you grabbed his face, not giving Rafe time to process the situation before you were leaping him in a soft kiss, one bidding him goodbye, and leaving him craving more. “Bye, I’ll miss you.” 

At that, Rafe grins, admiring as you walked away, now creating somewhat of a distance between you two. He waved his hand in your direction, swaying his body back and forth with mere giddiness. “Text me!” 

You nod in response, chuckling before strolling your way in your friends’ direction, instantly flashing Sarah an apologetic smile upon catching glimpse of her sulky expression. 

Rafe stretched his arms over his head, letting his eyes fall shut as a groggy groan escaped his throat, the action falling interrupted when he turned in the door’s (the one leading to the kitchen) direction, and spotted Ryan, whose glare puzzled Rafe, unable to read his mind, and know what he was thinking. 

“Ryan,” He nervously started, “How long have you been here?” 

“Not long,” the latter mumbled, exhaling through his parted lips. “Wanted to check why this door was open.” 

“Oh,” Rafe relaxed, partially due to the explanation, pausing before he continued. “Do you need anything?”

“Nope,” he shook his head, “I got takeout, wanna eat?” 

“Sure.” Rafe nodded, following in Ryan’s steps when he took his leave, and making sure to close the door once he was inside. His eyebrows quirked upon his gaze landing on the table, confused on why there was no food plated on the hardwood. “Where’s the food?” 

“On the porch.” Ryan dismissed, escorting Rafe outside. He took a seat on one of the chairs, quickly joined by rafe as he reached for one of the boxed foods splayed on the table. “Help yourself out.”

Ryan didn't need to tell him twice as he dug in, munching on his food while admiring the rocky waves. It was a beautiful sight, calming Rafe in a way, though that didn't last forever as he took notice of the latter, who stuck to playing with the noodles instead of eating.

“Why aren't you eating?” Rafe asked, addressing Ryan with his chin. “Do you not like it?” 

Ryan remained silent, gaze yet fixed on the food in his lap, letting silence seep in before he cut through it. “I saw you earlier.” 

“Me?” Rafe scoffed through a mouthful of food, leaning back in his chair. “When?

“In the garage, with my sister.” Rafe almost chokes when Ryan replies, mouth stilling for a moment. “You know, Bug; the same girl you referred to as a sister.” 

Fuck. He knows. 

Rafe’s heart drops at that, fully abandoning the food he had in hand, tossing it on the table as he casually spins in Ryan’s direction, a mere attempt of maintaining a calm expression, as if he wasn't a panicking mess deep down. 

“What do you mean?” He feigned oblivion, blinking far too many times for his liking. 

“Don’t bullshit me, Rafe.” Ryan stifles out a sarcastic laugh, turning to face Rafe, who despite his cool expression, turned red with nervousness. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” 

“I don't.” Rafe lied through his teeth, gulping when Ryan straightened up, getting off the chair in an instant.

Ryan gave Rafe no time to process the situation, swinging a punch to his face, immediately causing the latter to stumble back, fully taken aback by the gesture. 

Sure, they’ve had their fair share of arguments, but it never got this bad; to the point where they needed to involve violence. 

“You’re fucking my sister, huh?” He then punches him again, and in that moment, awareness washed over Rafe, as he realized this was it. The truth was out, Ryan found out. “Out of everyone, you go for my sister?!”

Rafe sat there, didn't even bother swinging back, or defend himself, hence he knew he deserved it. He hid this for far too long, letting the guilt build up instead of owning up to it and being honest with his best friend. He let Ryan yank him up, then throw him to the floor, then proceeded to relax as he threw another punch to his face, completely wrecking his features with bruises that formed within seconds. 

“I thought you were my best friend,” Ryan grunted out, now pressing Rafe to the floor with his knees locking him in place. “I told you,” a punch, “not to fucking” and another, “touch my sister!” 

Rafe almost laughs at the statement, choosing to swallow it down, as his friend was already furious; he’d completely lose it if Rafe were to open his mouth, let alone laugh. 

He couldn't help it, though, giggling when he caught a glimpse of Ryan’s upset expression, perhaps not taking the situation as seriously as he truly should. 

Ryan pauses at that, eyebrows curling with confusion, as to why the latter suddenly erupted into a fit of chuckles. “Why are you laughing?”

“God, you’re ridiculous.” Rafe muttered through a breath, causing Ryan to perk with pent-up anger. 

“What did you say?” Ryan mumbles through gritted teeth, failing to hold himself back. 

Rafe straightened in his position, groaning once he pushed Ryan off, letting the latter fall to his side. His lips gaped in pain, hissing when his fingers brushed over the bruise near his mouth upon noticing the blood gushing out. 

“Is that all you’ve got?” Rafe asked, a smug smirk slowly tugging at his lips. 

“You want me to fuckin’ kill you?” Ryan spat out, face fuming with anger. “You think my sister is a whore? You can sleep with her and call it a night? Huh?”

Rafe’s teeth clenched at that, tugging Ryan by the collar of his shirt. He yanked him back, veins trailing a path to beneath his buzzed hair, unable to contain himself, nor fight the urge to maintain patience. 

“Don’t cross the line, Ryan.” He threatened, tone serious, as well as the expression smothering across his face. “Say shit like that one more time and I’ll fuckin’ kill you, y’hear me? I could easily take you down; kill you if I wanted, but I won't, ‘cause you're my best friend.” He then paused, seeking Ryan's gaze through his foggy vision before he continued. “I won't let you assume shit, okay? You can't say bullshit like this and expect me not to say anything.” 

“Assume? You’ve been hiding the whole fuckin’ thing from me.” Ryan scoffed, ridiculed by Rafe’s words. “You know how I get when I’m angry, Rafe, don’t fucking tempt me.”

“Let it all out, Ryan.” Rafe let go of him, holding onto the chair for support to get himself off the ground, quickly standing to his feet. “I like her, and I’m willing to do anything to be with her, even if I lose myself doing it.” Rafe grabbed his phone from the table, along with his wallet, as he inserted them in the back pocket of his jeans. “I’m not letting her go, no amount of convincing could change my decision.” 

Ryan sat there and watched, gaze following Rafe as he strived to take his leave, immediately disappearing out of the latter’s sight. Telling (?) his best friend felt like something heavy getting off his chest, though he still had plenty to worry about. It was nice, knowing he won't have to hide his feelings away anymore. 

He planned to keep the incident between him and Ryan for now, not wanting you to find out, just for a fight to break down between you and your brother. For now, the least he could do is avoid you, favorably till his bruises healed. 

And that’s exactly what he did. Rafe never left his room, even after you came back, sticking to texting you instead, and refusing to see you, though you hinted your want to meet him. 

The latter wasn't budging, brushing off your attempts by changing the topic, and before you knew it, night has approached, later followed by you falling into deep slumber, only realizing you fell asleep after randomly waking up in the middle of the night to your phone abandoned on your pillow, after your many shots of convincing Rafe to see you. 

He’ll come around, you were probably going to see him during breakfast tomorrow. 

Or at least you hoped. 

Rafe never showed up for breakfast. 

You were confused, cluelessly staring at your food while your friends filled the room with chaos, failing to notice the disappointment sprawling across your face. 

You’ve grown used to the teasing comments Rafe would throw in your direction, wishing he was there to at least keep you company. You miss him, so much, it was driving you crazy. Throughout your nearly two months of staying here, this is the longest it's been since you last spoke to Rafe, or seen him in person; and that alone had you spiraling with frustration. 

Something was wrong. It wasn't a typical lazy morning for Rafe, as he always manages to squeeze in a bit of quality time, despite how hectic his schedule would get. This time around, he didn't even bother explaining the reason behind his sudden disappearance, remaining a mystery with each time your curiosity grew. 

That of course, lasted till the afternoon, when you fortuitously stumbled upon Rafe as he sneaked his way out to the bathroom, not catching glimpse of you down the hall; staring him down with a million thoughts wandering through your head. He clicked the door shut, taking the opportunity for granted when you strolled your way in his direction, disregarding the fact that others could see you, and only focusing on Rafe, while you patiently waited for him to exit the bathroom. 

The sound of the door unlatching made you perk up, breath knocking out of your chest when your gaze landed on Rafe, who froze, a look of discomfort instantly spreading on his face. His face, it was bruised, freckled with purple patches that covered a decent amount of his features, you almost didn’t recognize him. 

He muttered out your name through a breath, not looking too fond of getting caught in this condition, clearly uncomfortable with you trying to read his expression like you knew exactly what happened, and how he was feeling. With a gulp, the latter started again, tone evident, in contrast to his emotions. “What are you doing here?” 

“What happened to your face?” You asked, reaching out for his face, merely for the latter to dodge it as he grasps your wrist in between his fingers, holding it firm and in place. 

“Nothin’, I got drunk and accidently got into a fight.” Rafe lied through his teeth, loosening his hold around your hand. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“You didn’t leave the house yesterday, Rafe.” You exclaimed, in response to his deceiving statement. “Who did this to you? Was it Topper? Did he show up while we were gone?” 

“C’mon,” he clicked his teeth, giggling to brighten the mood. “You think I’m that weak?” 

“This is not a laughing matter, Rafe!” You huffed, eyebrows knitting with frustration. “You were jus’ fine, how did you get all these bruises?”

“Baby, it’s nothing, like I said, I got drunk and–” his sentence was cut short as he jolted back, the muscular figure in view causing you to gasp before you stumbled back, eyes immediately widening in shock upon catching sight of Ryan, now pressing Rafe to the wall.

“‘Fuck are you doing, Rafe?” He asked through gritted teeth, tightening his hold around the collar of Rafe’s shirt when the latter remained silent, leisurely fluttering his eyes shut in response. “Didn’t I warn you, can’t you jus’ fuckin’ respect me for once?”

Rafe scoffed at that, angling his head back as he stifled out a laugh, hands landing on top of Ryan’s, before he shoved them off, slyly fixing the collar of his shirt. “You’re full of shit.” 

“What did you say?” Ryan moved forward, fingers clutching into a fist at Rafe’s words, aiming to swing at him, merely for you to interfere with the arm you pressed to his chest. 

“What is going on here?” You questioned with disbelief, gaze flickering between your brother and Rafe, hoping for an explanation, an answer, at least. 

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” Rafe assured, addressing you with a tight-lipped smile. “Jus’ go back to your room, I’ll catch you later.” 

“Motherfucker,” Ryan spat back, venom filling the void in his tone. “You’re doin’ this to piss me off, aren’t you?” 

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious right now…” you muttered under your breath, confusing no one but yourself. “Why are you fighting?” 

“Why are you involving her?” Rafe mumbled, jaw clenching with anger. “Might as well jus’ tell everyone else, huh? Yeah everyone, my sister and my best friend have feelings for each other, and I’m a lil’ bitch that can’t handle things not going my way, so I decided to break things off between them, then beat my friend into a pulp to feel better about myself.” 

What?

Your lips parted in an inaudible gasp, halting in your tracks at the truth, and the reason behind their argument. Fuck, Ryan found out. 

He’d have to find out one day, you knew that, but right now? Your heart instantly sunk to your stomach, breath heaving with each exhale departing your lips, unaware of what to do with yourself, and the new information that practically slapped their way into your brain. 

By the looks of it, Ryan did not handle the truth well, hence the proof was evident on Rafe’s face. 

“I asked one thing of you, Rafe.” Ryan stated, “One thing; don’t fucking touch my little sister, and what did you do? You go n’ kiss her? What, you expect me to sit back and be happy about this?” 

“What do you wanna do?” Rafe’s face twisted with irritation, arms moving in front of his chest as he straightened up, now invading Ryan’s personal space. “What, you’ll try to separate us? I already fucking told you, I’m not letting her go, Ryan. I– I like her, so much; you of all people should know how serious this is for me.” 

“Go fuck yourself for all I care.” Ryan choked out a sarcastic laugh, “I know you, you’re a fucking asshole, and a scumbag who only cares about himself, don’t come talkin’ about serious shit, I know you won’t treat my sister well.” 

“You’re overstepping it,” Rafe started, tone serious, a slight warning for Ryan. “Don’t make me do somethin’ I’ll regret.” 

“Yeah?” Ryan mocked, getting under Rafe’s skin. “What are you gonna do?” 

“Stop talking.” You interrupted, sighing aloud with exasperation. “Just shut up, what if someone hears you? What will you tell them?” 

“But–” Ryan started. 

“Don’t.” You beat him to it, fluttering your eyes shut before you continued. “Go to your rooms, and handle this privately, please. Don’t start saying dumb shit only to regret it later on.” 

At that, both of them fall quiet, letting silence seep through the air, atmosphere heavy with tension that could kill. Ryan took a moment to collect himself, before wandering back to his room, knowing if he spoke he wouldn't stop talking. 

As for Rafe, the latter stared into the void, watching as you walked away, knowing he can’t speak up, in case he says something and ruins things for himself, messing them up more than they already were. Instead, he observed as you disappeared off to your room, lingering for just a moment, in hopes of seeing you for a few seconds, a mere glimpse, if that was too much to ask for. 

Disappointment washed over his chest once he realized you were gone, hopelessly heading back to his room, with the intentions of locking himself in there forever, maybe until he reflects on the dumb decisions his mind keeps suggesting, letting the voices in his head take over each time he was in the slightest bit agitated. However, that wasn’t long, as he was pulled out of his head when a soft knock erupted through the door, that if not for the silence, Rafe wouldn’t have heard it. 

His brows curled with puzzlement, hesitating to unlatch the door, only twisting the doorknob when another knock came through. Rafe’s chest raised at the sight of you, straightening up when he came in view, slightly taken aback by your presence. His gaze trailed down to the first-aid kit in your hold, heart quickening in pace upon realizing your reason for disappearance. 

The air filled with comfortable silence, Rafe didn’t dare cut through it, merely moving to the side to let you through, with you quietly accepting the invitation as you let yourself inside. Rafe shut the door, before he followed in your steps, deliberately approaching you as if not to startle you, admiring while you unpacked the boxed medicine in the process. 

A smile threatened to tug at his lips, fading in an instant when you turned, addressing him with your sharp gaze, that he somehow couldn’t read, falling blank since earlier. 

“Sit.” You ordered, dipping a q-tip in the rubbing alcohol that came with the kit. 

Rafe did as told, shoulder bumping into yours in the process of getting himself to the bed. He made himself comfortable on the edge, angling his head back to make it easier for you to apply the medicine. 

You tapped the ointment to the bruise near his mouth, hushing out an apology when he hissed in pain, continuing to clean up the wound, though it was probably too late now. You still wanted to do it, though, guilt settling in the pit of your stomach once you found out it was your brother’s doing. 

“I knew it.” You whispered through a shuddered breath, swallowing down the lump in your throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect him to be this upset when he found out.” 

“Why are you apologizing?” Rafe spoke, regretting it as he grunted in pain, his now disinfected wound burning when he moved his mouth. “It’s fine, I know how he gets when he’s angry.” 

“You’re both idiots.” You scoffed, a smile twitching at the corner of your lips. “Why were you provoking him, then?” 

“For fun.” He chuckled, letting tension linger in the air. 

You continued disinfecting the bruises, almost crumbling as his arm instinctively found the curse of your waist, fingertips rubbing soothing circles to the exposed flesh around your side. You tried not to react to the touch, feigning oblivion to his legs locking you in place, giving you no chance to escape him, or the desire pumping through your insides. 

“You’re so pretty.” Rafe’s voice abruptly broke out, earning your attention as you stopped what you were doing, feeling heat crawl past your neck, all the way to your face. 

“Well, you’re not.” You teased, covering your flusteredness, wrapping up the first aid kit once you were done. “You’re busted, don’t get beaten up again.” 

Rafe squeezed your hip at the playful statement, chuckling along with you, though that gesture of his was desperate, speaking for all his wants and needs. “I’d gladly take another beating for you.” 

Your heart raced in your chest, mouth pressing into a thin line to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. You hated how sappy the snarky comment was, making you feel shy like a girl with her first crush, as if you’ve never experienced anything romantic before. 

“You’re an idiot.” You hushed out, almost gasping when Rafe’s fingers lightly tugged the waistband of your shorts, leisurely slipping them underneath, just enough to receive a reaction out of you. 

A hum of content rummaged out of his chest, tilting his head back even more, until the yearn in his gaze was visible, and in view, unable to hide it anymore. He fluttered his eyes up at you, pupils dilating with need, as new found tension seeped through, unlike the other times something bloomed between you two. 

This time, it was different, body submitting each time his touch would linger, clearly expressing the keenness heavy in his heart, now finally able to showcase it through action, with no one to interrupt, nor guilt to interfere. 

No thoughts were thought, no words were said, both of your minds were blank, full of emotions, and hushed desire. A breathy sigh stuttered out of your chest, fingers lightly grazing Rafe’s arms as they leisurely trailed up his shoulders, till you reached the crook of his neck. 

You engulfed his neck in your hands, thumbs gently pressing to his adam’s apple when you tilted his head back more, hinting that you were just as eager as he was, unable to put an end to the yearn eating through your heart, eventually aiming to do something about it. 

“Fuck.” Rafe muttered under his breath, fingers landing over yours. 

He wasted no time, immediately standing to his feet as he captured your lips in a kiss, knocking a breath out of your chest in the process. You stumbled back, slightly taken aback, though you quickly adjusted to the situation, slowly moving your lips over Rafe’s, able to taste the blood on his mouth. 

It was bittersweet, raw, full of emotions, speaking louder than you can put into words. Rafe’s lips moved with a motive, hot breath fanning over yours as he licked and nipped at your mouth, taking the gasp you let out for granted to slip his tongue in between your parted lips, and letting the warmness of your mouth engulf his own. 

His tongue met yours halfway through, a whine muffling its way out when his teeth grazed over your lip, aiming to explore every part of your mouth, even if it meant spending the rest of his life here in this moment. You tasted so fucking good, hell, eve better than the last time he’s kissed you. 

Rafe was drunk on your lips, not a thought behind his eyes as he stumbled back, littering sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to your hot mouth in the process of sitting himself down, tugging your head downwards with him. You almost chuckled at the gesture, action interrupted when he pulled away, eyes hazing with pure lust. 

Loud breaths heaved their way out of his chest, lips parting with a glossy layer of spit. His hooded pupils dilated with yearn, hands exploring your body like no other, unable to keep them to himself. His fingers tugged at the hem of your shirt, sloppily pushing it up before his mouth found the plush of your stomach. 

Your head tilted back with pleasure, eyes forcing shut as you took in the sensation of Rafe’s tongue swirling around the low of your stomach, nibbling on the skin for a reaction out of you. He’d linger for a second, planting a soft kiss over the spot to soothe away the pain, and hell, did it feel good. 

He savored every bit of skin, whatever kept his mouth busy was not preventing him from caressing your body, worshiping you like you’re the only thing that matters. And you were, in Rafe’s eyes, things could not get any better, he’s wanted nothing but to do this, taste you, do this without the voices in his head lecturing him over the consequences of his actions. 

“So perfect.” He muffled, thumb pressing to the material of your bra, while yet holding your shirt in place. “Fuckin’ killin’ me, everything you do drives me crazy.” 

“Rafeee," you whined, (holding onto his non existent hair) fingernails digging to his shoulders, the sensation earning a grunt out of Rafe, yet littering love bites to your stomach. 

He nipped and kissed the soft flesh, one of his hands kneading the plush of your ass, using the pressure of his hold to push you down, causing you to almost fall as you landed in his lap, immediately straddling him, and making yourself comfortable. 

You adjusted yourself around the boy, almost shuddering when his hardon brushed over your ass, swallowing down your nervousness when his gaze leveled with yours, not breaking eye contact. His stares burned holes through you, you felt shy, and the need to get away before you melt in his arms. 

A sly smirk tugged at his bruised lips, tongue toying with his teeth as he leisurely tugged your shirt with both of his hands, slipping it over your head, until you were left with the thin fabric of your bra. 

His eyes hungrily trailed to your cleavage, throat running dry when he gulped, vision going blurry at the sight of your boobs perfectly sitting in place, begging to be touched and caressed by him. 

“You sure about this?” He asked for consent, letting his gaze flicker to yours for a brief second. 

“Mhm.” You nodded, sweeping him in a quick kiss, forehead connecting with his once you pulled away. “Now do somethin’ please.” 

“No need to say it twice, baby.” He whispered, licking into your mouth. One of his hands sneaked its way to your back, landing around your bra, swiftly unclipping it, until the straps fell loose around your arms. 

A wave of nervousness came crashing, watching with haste as Rafe froze, eyes flickering to your half-exposed nipples, now freckled with goosebumps due to the chilly breeze invading the hidden flesh. 

Rafe carefully hauled the strings down, till they were off your arms, freeing your chest from that stupid bra. Rafe’s mouth salivated at the sight, the bulge in his pants twitching with need. They were perfect, I mean, come on, Rafe was no virgin, but seeing you like this has no reason making his mind race with all sorts of thoughts, like a loser about to have sex for the first time. 

This was better than his imagination, so much better than letting his head wander off to how you’ll scream his name when he fucks you, tits bouncing beautifully while you ride his cock. It was a sight, one that made him feel dumb, and idiotic, for even thinking he can have you. 

“God,” he groaned, cupping one of your tits in his hold. “Such a fuckin’ brat, always makin’ me feel dirty.” 

Your back arched, chasing after the fraction of his thumb rolling your now hardened nipple in his fingers. You were insanely turned on, the sensation making your brain fuzzy, now dizzy all over. And if you thought that felt good, then you were wrong, completely jerking in Rafe’s arms when his mouth captured your nipple in between his lips. 

His mouth glided over the skin, coating it with a layer of hot spit, as he swirled his tongue just around the hard nub, causing you to yelp with pleasure. His teeth lightly grazed the sensitive flesh, mouth pooling with thirst, cherishing every second of this like a man starved. 

He sucked and nibbled, marking your flesh, and hissing when your hips rolled down, panties soaked with your juices. You couldn’t help it, despite Rafe’s hand pressing to your side, you continued, chasing after the sensation of his cock brushing over your ass through the thin material of your sheer sleep shorts. 

“Fucking hell, doll, ‘that feel good?” He asked, squeezing your tit when you stuck to nodding. “Words baby, lemme hear you.” 

“Feels so good, Rafe.” You muttered, Rafe’s crotch brushing over your clothed, slick folds with each time you grind your hips down. 

“There you go.” He mewled out, “Be a good girl n’ show me how good I make you feel.” 

Your body tingled all over at the statement, grinding down with all your might, as you feel your climax building up. Rafe, too, took notice of that, halting your hips in place to earn your attention. 

“Wait.” He mumbled, lips parting in a shaky exhale. 

“What?” You asked, fluttering your eyes open to catch glimpse of Rafe. 

“Don’t.” He warned, “Wanna make you feel good.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

“Hmm?” You hummed, slightly feeling shy under his gaze. 

“We have all night, baby.” He stifled out a teasing laugh. “I wanna take my time; appreciate each and every inch of you.” 

Rafe’s lips collided with yours in a soft peck, thumb rubbing soothing circles to the curve of your jaw. 

“Let me take care of you.”

That was it. The only assurance you needed. You wanted this, more than anything. 

Fuck the world, hell might as well get fucked too. 

a/n all support is v much appreciated!! this one is my fav despite how poorly written it was 😭 i tried to portray the fight scene and the tension in a somewhat decent way but this is all i can manage sorry fellas </3 but yeah phew ryan finally found out... didnt handle it well but 😜 anyways!! next part might be an extra of their first time... pure smut continuing this chapter so lmk if you guys are interested HAHA won't guarantee it being good but... yeha!! its not a necessary read, doesnt add anything to the plot, but i still kinda want to do it yeahh!! with that being said, lmk your thoughts on this chapter <33

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[eyelambspider]

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 '𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝' 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 || 𝐂𝐎𝐃

┊𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : he shouldn't have any say in what you do... so then why does seeing you with this guy piss him off so much?

┊𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : könig, ghost, soap, gaz, price, horangi x operator!gn!reader ┊𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : jealousy, unestablished relationships, swearing, hints of 'unwarranted' possessiveness ┊𝐚/𝐧 : thought i was dead?-heh

▹ König

König's day was going just about the same as every other, dull and moving through the halls of KorTac's base with purpose. Always a head taller than everyone, his mask hiding everything but the cold, tired eyes behind it. The bases' personnel and operators move by him in a blur, people parting instinctively to let him move past... nothing quite interesting until he hears a familiar laugh, like the sound of bells to his ears.

His head immediately turns to the right, and sure enough, there you are: a lingering smile brightening up your eyes, talking to a group of soldiers.

He watches the brief exchange that occurs in a matter of seconds.

You playfully shove a handsome man next to you, who shares your laugh, his face full of unbridled adoration, like a puppies. And when you turn to leave with a shake of your head, the man pipes up, watching you go. "See ya around then, babe."

The nickname sends a cold zing up the Colonel's spine, his whole body tensing in a manner that leaves him stunned; as if he'd been slapped in the face by that simple word. Unable to digest the new, ugly emotion swirling in the pit of his stomach, he just-stands there, wondering why the fuck that just got on his nerves. His fists balled so tightly that his gloves strain and the fabric squeaks in protest.

▹ Simon "Ghost" Riley

The mission was over, for now.

The Lieutenant had seen you take a hit out there, nothing too serious, but in the buzz and frantic 'running arounds' of medics and soldiers after the extraction helo had landed... he was going to check up on you.

It hardly took a moment before Ghost had caught up to where you were.

Rounding the corner, the tall masked man paused at the sight.

"Should be nothing to worry about," the medic assured you, the two of you sat facing each other, in your own little bubble as the man gently cleaned up a small gash at your hairline, his hand holding yours for comfort.

"Wouldn't want to leave a scar on a face like yours," the medic beamed with natural charm and a set of pearly teeth.

Ghosts hand clamped onto the mans shoulder before he could really think, gloved fingers digging in a little too tightly.

"It's just a fucking cut," his deep voice gritted out, effectively dismissing the medic who nodded and quickly stood up to leave.

Ghost watched him like a hawk, brown eyes searing into the flesh of the man until he was effectively out of view. Subtly, with him gone, the Lieutenant relaxed now left with an awkward unnamed air between the two of you.

He folded his arms over his chest and sighed, glancing down at you with a keenly softer look, "...Want me to help you with that?" He finally, begrudgingly asked. He had sent the medic away for fucks sake. Brilliant.

▹ John "Soap" MacTavish

Dirt from the hangar's tarmac crunched under his boots with a soft crunch.

For the next couple of missions, Soap was set to be working quiet closely with you and a few others. Something MacTavish was aware of, and quite honestly, looking forward to.

There was a sort of enthusiastic smile lingering on his face as he walked towards the truck. The engines were already rumbling to life, soldiers and the drivers clambering up and settling in the back.

It was then that he spotted you, and his grin only grew wider, mouth opening to greet you and get your attention... until he saw it clear as day.

As you turned your head towards the truck, ready to step up into the back and unaware of his gaze... he saw a little red mark just above your pulse point.

The Sergeant nearly stopped, legs tensing as he walked, his natural smile faltering for the briefest of moments until you turned your head towards him and like a light, it returned as if it was never gone.

"Lookin' forward to the mission?" He asked, lips curling into a grin that hid the small vein of annoyance on his temple.

When you looked away again, his blue eyes flickered down to the hickey on your skin, the grip on his gun tightening ever so softly as he hopped into the truck after you. Sure to sit close enough that his thigh pressed against yours. And god he couldn't look away from that stain on your skin for the life of him, a firm, uncharacteristic line forming between his brows whenever you weren't looking.

▹ Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

The Captain had told everyone to check their ammo and weapons before they headed out.

Gaz, holding no argument, went to do just that, happy to see you standing under the tent with your gun in hand. He watched subtly as he approached, the way your fingers seemed to float over the metal as you inspected your gun, eyes narrowed calmly in concentration. It was a sight that never got old.

"Got what you need?" He chirped up, standing next to you and pausing in front of the table of weapons.

There was an unfamiliar flicker of color dangling from the side of your gun.

A little silver charm of a bullet with something inscribed on it.

He recognized the thing almost immediately. A weapon charm; sure tons of soldiers decided to keep a little 'lucky' one with them, but this one in particular...

Well, the last time he saw this one, it had been on the gun of another soldier he had seen you talking to not a week ago.

So why the hell did you have it?

Gaz cleared his throat and pulled his gaze away, picking up a gun and slamming the clip into the gun with a loud click, suddenly riled up a bit.

"Think that little trinkets gonna bring ya luck?" He teased with a handsome grin, annoyance hidden beneath his light tone.

"Don't worry, you got me with you," he grinned and forced himself to walk away as if the damned thing hanging off your gun and the man who must've given it to you didn't secretly irk him.

▹ John Price

The Captain, for one reason or another was looking for you. Needed a quick talk before the next mission Laswell would be sending you all on.

He knew where to find you, of course, and made his way over with purpose. He paused a bit when he saw you standing next to a young man, about the same age as you, who he'd never seen before.

Odd, since the two of you seemed as thick as thieves. Laughing, gently pushing each other and excitedly chatting about things he couldn't quite understand the context of. A shared joke or old memory, Price assumed as he got closer to the pair of you.

Closer now, the man's face seemed... vaguely familiar, but nothing important immediately came to mind. Until the young bucks eyes fell down to yours with a soft adoration.

Like a light, he had connected the dots then.

He had seen that same expression in a photo you showed to him once, a picture of you and some other rookies back when you first enlisted... back when Price hadn't known you.

"Ah, sorry to cut in but-" The Captain began, clearing his throat with a kind smile that belied the gnawing at his chest from the sight of you getting along so easily with...

He sighed internally, clearly not sorry from cutting in on your little 'reunion' that was too friendly by his standards.

"I'm afraid we'll have to save introductions for some other time," he mused dryly, gloved hands resting on the straps of his vest before he nodded his head to the side, signalling for you to come along with him. Far away, hopefully.

"You're taking up my teams time," the Captains gruff voice cut through with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, 'half-joking' with your... old friend.

Before either of you could say anything, Price had already started walking, his hand hovering over your shoulder, urging you to turn around and walk with him. Gritting his teeth through a strained smile.

▹ Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin

He could hardly take it anymore.

There was always this... slimy feeling in his chest whenever he caught a glimpse of you.

Well-not you exactly-but you and that damned- He stopped himself and sucked in a deep, forced breath through his teeth.

Although no one could see his face, everyone around him sensed the tension rolling off him in droves. Muscles tight, grumpy, and currently: swearing in Korean curses under his breath.

His eyes, though covered by dark lenses, stared straight ahead at a sight that shouldn't have disturbed him as much as it did.

There, sitting across the room you sat with a new operator. A man who had barely worked with you for all of a month, yet here you two were: sitting shoulder to shoulder, finding out you had more and more in common because you both came from the same country.

His eyes narrowed slightly gaze flickering to the same flag patch that sat on your uniform and his. Matching.

Horangi had no right to be jealous, he knew it, but he also knew that for whatever reason... he was.

His eyes flickered to the floor, sitting with his elbows propped on his knees, grumbling some more to himself with a heated sigh.

What the hell was he going to do about this? Millions of ideas started flickering in his minds eye, massaging his knuckles as a plan threatened to take shape.

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 6

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content and language, being sick? overthinking? p being melodramatic Wordcount: 4.4K A/C: was feeling inspired :)) anyway pls be patient with me posting, i'm applying to schools rn!! anyway this went a direction i hadn't planned but... uhh... i have no excuses i was going with the flow. anyway enjoy x (also what a scare yesterday just hoping p is doing fine and i'm sure everything's okay!)

-

Before London

You need a ride to work tmr?

I don’t but thank you x

My eyes roam the texts as they had repeatedly since last night, trying to decipher each letter as if some ancient code I couldn’t understand. Is she seriously gonna be like that? Like she wasn’t the one who pulled me in. She kissed me. Why was she taking it out on me now? I don’t got time for this anyway, to be stressing about something like this. 

I hadn’t seen Izara since Saturday, not at work, not in the apartment building, hell, I’d even gone to the gym every morning praying that she might show up but it was as if the girl had disappeared from the face of the earth. I knew she was avoiding me, and I guess she had reason but fuck, I thought she’d be better than that. Not a word since Saturday, other than those strange cryptic texts. Fine. Be that way.

“My favourite girls!!” Trey’s voice blatantly interjects my spinning thoughts as me, Arike, Satou and Lou are sat at a circular table, eating lunch. Not that I had been eating per say, more so poking my fork here and there trying to stomach a piece of chicken now and then. The heaviness in the pit of my stomach made it hard to eat at all.

I lift my eyes, hoping Izara would be trailing behind the man as usual. But it’s Ava instead, holding a notepad and taking quick steps to keep up. I mean I knew it wasn’t Iz before even looking up - there was an uncomfortable void of heels tapping against the hardwood as the pair approach us eagerly.

“Oh hey!” Lou smiles from her chair next to me. “What’s up?”

“So we were thinking,” Trey starts, leaning forward against the table. “If y’all could film some clips answering comments on your own since our dear Zari isn’t here.”

“Uh, where is she anyway?” I ask as casually as I can - though the way everyone’s heads snap to me tells me it was a feeble attempt.

Trey’s dark brown eyes study me for a while with an expression I can’t quite read before answering. “She’s home sick, poor girl.”

Bullshit. She’s trying to avoid me, I know it. I can’t believe it, I thought she would be more mature than this, than faking being “sick” just to get away from an awkward conversation with me. Why was she assuming how I felt anyway? Like the kiss mattered to me? Like I’d want more?

I mean all that was true. God did it matter and God did I want, no, need more. Much more. But she didn’t know that, so why was she assuming. I thought we were friends. You know what this is? Bad friendship.

“Oh damn, hope she feels better,” Arike answers for me, noticing the way I’m gone in my thoughts.

“Y-yeah for sure,” I mumble, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I’mma go to the weight room.”

I place the fork down on my half eaten plate harshly, getting up abruptly making my irritation quite clear to everyone around me.

“Paige you gotta eat a little more,” Lou encourages but I shake my head.

“Nah, m’ not hungry,” I murmur and take my plate back, preparing to take out my aggravation at some weights, ignoring the way Arike and the rest of the girls eye me as I walk away.

-

“So how are we feeling about the first game soon?” My dad’s voice echoes through the speaker but I barely hear him, pacing my apartment’s living room. Truthfully I hadn’t thought much about the upcoming game. I knew that was bad. That I should be ecstatic, or scared as hell, but I didn’t feel anything else besides the dread of what happened between me and Iz. 

Matter of fact, I hadn’t been able to think of anything else but the way she looked all night, the way her green smoked out eyes twinkled at me, the way she threw her head back when she laughed at my jokes, when she pressed her front against me. The way her full breasts felt against my chest, the way her round ass felt under my hands. God, the whimper she let out when I squeezed it as gently as I could.

“Paige?”

“Uh what?” I mumble, ears burning, completely forgotten about the call with my dad.

“What’s going on with you?” His secure, steady voice asks, grounding me.

“Nothin’ dad,” I murmur, rubbing my eyes and looking out the window into the street, eyeing every dark haired woman just in case they were Izara.

“Paige Madison.”

I groan. I might be 23-years-old but my dad’s stern voice turns me into a teenager without fail each time.

“You’re comin’ to the first game still, right?”

“Yes, of course,” he says, like it’s obvious. “Why?”

“Nothin’, just miss you,” I mumble, coming up with an excuse for my low mood - though it wasn’t far off. Everytime I felt sad or anxious I just wanted my dad.

“I miss you too, kid. You know you just say the word and I’m there, okay?”

“No I know, I know. I’m just tired I think,” I sigh, my chest warming at my dad’s comforting words.

“Uh oh,” he starts. “Paige Madison… Don’t tell me.”

“Huh? Tell you what?”

“Is this about a girl?” He asks.

I pause, coming to a halt with my pacing. “Hu- I- What?!”

“You always say “I’m just tired” when you got a girl on your mind,” my dad laughs, doing a horrible impression of me.

“No!” I argue a little too fast and a little too passionately. “I mean, no. Just tired. Long practice.”

“Mhm alright,” my dad mumbles, an amused tone in his voice that irritates me in a way only a parent could. “So no girl?”

“No dadddd,” I whine like a teenage girl. “There’s no girl.”

I didn’t like lying to him. I wanted to tell him all about Izara. I knew my dad would adore that girl. He always said I needed a woman to keep me in check - Izzie did just that. But I also didn’t want to tell my dad about this girl knowing it likely wasn’t going to go anywhere, especially now that she had been hiding from me since our kiss.

“Okay dad tell Drew I said hi and I’ll play Fortnite with him tomorrow,” I say into the phone, ready to hang up.

“Okay kid, love you.”

“Love you dad.”

The silence is deafening, again. Like it used to be before I became friends with Iz. I felt alone, anxious, my head spinning with thoughts I couldn’t turn off. I thought she was mature enough to handle this like two adults. If she just wanted to be friends then she could just tell me, at least we could continue our friendship like that.

But usually when I kissed a girl, they didn’t run away like this. Quite the opposite. Did she not like the way I kissed? Was I off my game? Maybe the tongue was too much? Maybe she didn’t like my outfit. I’m a good kisser, I know I am. Good enough to get girls into bed with ease. So what is the trouble now? And I also know that that was the best kiss I had ever had. That our lips fit together just right. Fuck this girl had me going out of my mind. And now I just had to wait for her to reach out, it didn’t feel fair.

No. It wasn’t fair. Why did I have to wait for her? Who said I had to? Fuck that.

Too frenzied to even throw a shirt over my sports bra, I walk downstairs determined, knocking on Izara’s door angrily, preparing a speech of everything I’d been thinking the past few days: Look, Izzie, we’re both adults. You clearly think the kiss was a mistake. But avoiding me and acting like this is ridiculous and stupid and we don’t need to be acting like teenage-

“Paige?” 

Izzie opens the door, voice weak and nasally. She’s in a pale pink pyjama set, hair up in a clip and nose red and irritated. She wasn’t lying. Definitely not. She is sick. 

Quick, improvise.

“Uh, hey,” I mumble, my cheeks turning pink, her red eyes staring up at me reminiscent of Saturday night and the moments before our kiss on the balcony. “Trey told me you were sick.”

She chuckles, looking down at her dishevelled appearance and returns her gaze to me. “How did you know,” she jokes. She’s acting like nothing happened between us. How could she act like that? I guess it’s better than if she actually had been avoiding me.

“Was worried, haven’t seen you since… The party,” I say unsurely.

“Uh… Yeah. Crazy party huh,” Izzie says almost to herself. “Well, anyway, thanks for checking in but I’m perfectly okay. Just a cold and I think it’s passing.”

She begins to close the door but I grab it, holding it open.

“You been resting?” I ask concerned.

The girl shrugs. “Well at first but now I’m just getting bored so I’ve been doing some work from home.”

“Izzie…”

“What?”

“You gotta be restin’ if you’re sick,” I argue, which makes the girl roll her eyes.

“I’m fine Paige,” she answers, but I step inside.

“Let me in.”

“No, you’ll get sick,” she complains but I shake my head.

“I won’t. I’m built different.”

Izzie laughs, deciding it was pointless to try to argue and lets me in.

Her apartment is spotless as always, laptop open on her dining table with schedules and notebooks piled next to it. This bitch hadn’t been resting, no she’s been working and cleaning.

“Izzie!” I groan and close the laptop.

“Shoes! Shoes shoes shoes!” She yelps, voice breaking as she does. 

“‘M sorry!” I gasp and take my sneakers off quickly, placing them neatly by the entrance. I feel her eyes fixed on me. 

“Do you ever wear a shirt?” She asks, blowing her stuffy nose, which makes me let out a single laugh.

“Why, you want me to?” I ask confidently, easily falling into the same effortlessness as before.

My words make the girl blush. Perhaps the kiss wasn’t that bad? Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe I should just ask… Ask what?! If the kiss was good?! Bro… Get a grip.

“Well you’re going to get cold, it’s freezing here,” she tells me, turning away and walking to the couch where pillows are neatly arranged, an expensive looking blanket neatly folded on the armrest. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it definitely was not cold, that her apartment was scorching hot already making me sweat.

“Yo, you’re kidding right?” I laugh as I watch her somewhat pitifully curling up against the corner of the couch on her single throw pillow.

“What?”

“Iz, you’re sick!”

“Wow, thanks for rubbing it in my face,” she says nasally, blowing her nose again.

“Bro, that pillow is just sad! You need a nest,” I gasp, walking to her bedroom.

“Wait wait wait, it’s a mess in there,” she yelps, following after me. Mess, it is not. There is one hoodie on the bed, which is unmade. That’s it. I pull the heavy blanket off her bed, grabbing all four pillows and walking decisively to the couch with the dark-haired girl on my tail.

“What are you doing?” She asks as I begin to set up each pillow into a nest against the corner of the couch. She’s grabbing my arm and peeking at my actions from behind my back, clearly confused.

“I’m makin’ you a nest,” I explain, brows furrowing as I focus. This is serious business. “My stepmom does this when we’re sick.”

“A nest?” Izzie laughs.

“Yeah, get in,” I order, grabbing the girl’s shoulders and sitting her down. “Now lie back. Get comfy.”

Hesitating for a moment, Izzie curls up against the pillows as I place the blanket over her, watching as she gets comfortable with a smile on her face.

“There you go,” I coo, trying her forehead which is burning hot. “You have a fever Iz, I’m gonna get you some meds.”

“Paige, you don’t have to do this,” she sighs, looking up at me softly. I want to lean down and kiss her again. Instead, I bring my hand to her warm cheek, stroking it softly. She looks vulnerable, gentle for once. It made me want her even more.

“Lemme take care of you ma.”

She doesn’t comment on the nickname, matter of fact there’s a hint of a smile on her face when she nods. 

“The cabinet above the microwave.”

“Got it,” I tell her, pretty much scurrying to the kitchen, gathering everything you could think - water, painkillers, nose spray, I even cut up some fruit for her. But when I return the poor girl is in her nest, cuddled up, fast asleep. It hurts my heart to wake her up, but she needs these meds in her.

“Iz,” I murmur carefully, brushing dark locks away from her face. She blinks herself awake, rubbing her face. Everything about it makes me want to wrap her in my arms and never let anyone close in case they hurt her. 

“Fuck, I fell asleep,” she yawns. “I’m sorry I’m a mess.”

“You’re sick ma,” I remind her, sitting next to the girl on the couch and watching as she takes her medicine.

“This is so embarrassing,” she murmurs, sipping on the glass of water. Her cheeks are bright red, hair undone and eyes tired - I swear it’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her look.

“Izara,” I say sternly. “You’re sick, lemme help.”

“You’re gonna get sick too, and you have your first game soon love.”

“I’ll be fine, I got mad immune system powers.”

She giggles. “Immune system powers?”

“You heard,” I nod, fighting a grin. She coughs a little.

“Paige?”

Oh God. She’s gonna bring up the kiss now. I know it. I can feel it.

“Y-yeah?”

She takes a deep breath. “Can we watch Lady and The Tramp?”

-

“How are you already crying?” Paige asks with a giggle, leaning against the opposite corner of the couch. 

“Lady as a puppy always makes me cry! How could it not?” I sniffle, wiping my nose, watching the scene where Lady doesn’t want to sleep in her dog bed, the poor puppy crying for her dad. 

The blonde is chewing on an apple in her sports bra and black Nike sweats, muscles grown more prominent over her training period with the Wings, arms bigger, shoulders wider, outline of the muscles on her abdomen faintly visible even as she slouches. 

“What kinda names are Darling and Jimmy Dear anyway?” She asks, dramatically frustrated.

“Paige, you’re slow,” I laugh. “Lady thinks those are their names because they call each other those as like, pet names darling.”

The blond thinks for a while, and then grins. “Oh.”

We both burst into a choir of laughter, though it feels rough against my scratchy throat. Still, I could feel the medication already making me feel better. Or maybe it was the company.

My mind had been a mess after I escaped the party. I felt embarrassed, childish even for running away like I did, leaving Paige high and dry. Once I woke up the next morning it was hard to figure out what truly happened and what was my mind playing tricks on me. But I knew the kiss really took place the moment I remembered it, the weight of Paige’s kiss a mere memory on my lips. One wouldn’t forget a kiss like that. It was impossible.

Getting sick had been a lucky coincidence, giving me time to think and take some distance from the situation. I found it impossible to figure out where my desire for Paige and desire for physical contact differed. I couldn’t tell if I was just lonely. Or if I really liked her. I never considered it, me having feelings (if you could call it that) for a girl again. But now as she sat there, looking like that, I wanted nothing but to get on her. To climb onto her lap and kiss her again like we had on the balcony. Without the drunken hue, just us feeling each other.

Even as sick as I am, the familiar burn and ache that always showed up around the blonde begins to grow between my legs, making me squirm. Fuck, maybe I did like her. All I knew I definitely wasn’t in a place to start anything - that no matter what this was it would have to stay casual. I haven’t gotten rid of the ghost of my past relationship. No, not at all. I could see it looming around every corner, peeking through windows, just right outside my line of vision. I wasn’t ready.

Paige’s hand comes over to my bare feet poking out of the blanket, bringing them to her lap and beginning to rub them almost as if subconsciously, like unaware of the entire thing. Except her cheeks turn red as she does. My entire body relaxes, and I let her. For almost half of the movie she massages each toe, the arch of my foot, my ankle, leaving goosebumps everywhere. 

“I’m cold,” I complain, pulling my feet back under the blanket, feeling like a block of ice.

“I’m so hot,” Paige groans, now more invested in the movie, making small comments here and there.

“Lucky,” I groan which makes her snicker.

“Scooch,” The blonde tells me. Before I can resist she’s made her way under the blanket, into the nest, lying behind me and wrapping an arm around my waist. I fit in her arms perfectly, like I was made to be her counterpart, born to be in her arms like this, every curve of her body slotting with mine just right. My ass pressing into her, the blonde’s chin brushing against my shoulder, hot breath tickling against my ear nearly making me moan. Fuck.

“I- I thought you were hot,” I mumble, beginning to lose my composure.

“But you’re cold,” she murmurs into my ear, nose nuzzling into my hair as we keep watching the movie. Though I can’t concentrate. Even on my favourite movie. My head spinning too fast, speeding up even more when my pyjama top hikes up and Paige’s fingertips rub circles against my lower stomach, dangerously close to dipping into my pyjama pants.

“P-paige,” I almost whisper, my voice coming out breathy.

“Mhm?” The blonde’s voice is shaky too, a hoarse hum straight into my ear making me even wetter than I already am.

“You’re gonna get sick,” I remind her, my chest heaving.

“I’m good,” she breathes out, shifting a little, her head fitting just in the crook of my neck. Perfectly. “Are you?”

She’s asking for consent, I can tell. To dip her fingers underneath the band, to slide them into my panties. And God I want to give it to her. To let her have her way with me. The temptation is growing nearly impossible to resist.

“I-” I nearly say it. But then I shift to my back, to meet her gaze. Paige’s face is flushed, nostrils flaring as she breathes, hand remaining on my bare stomach. “How are you feeling about the game?”

“Oh, uhh,” Paige is taken aback, pulling her hand back to my dismay, bringing it to her jaw and rubbing it. “I mean, I haven’t really thought about it if I’m honest? I’m excited to see my dad and Dorka.”

“She went to Uconn with you, right?”

The blonde nods. “I mean issa big moment for sure, but I just wanna take it one day at a time.”

I hesitate. “Are you not nervous at all?”

She lets out a single laugh and looks around the room. “Nah I am. Just tryna keep my mind off it.”

I nod, understanding. I wish I could carry some of her worry, I could tell she was more nervous than she let on. But instead of talking I slide my hand into hers, which seems to comfort the girl more than words, her blue eyes locking with mine. She’s thinking, mulling something over in her head. I can tell.

“The party… Iz, I-”

“Shh,” I tell her before she can keep going, my throat going dry, the ache between my thighs nearly painful. I wasn’t ready to talk, at all. All I wanted was to feel it again, the weight of her lips on mine. So bad I felt dizzy.

“Nah, Izzie, c’mon. I think we both feel we-”

“Paige?”

“Yeah mama?”

“Kiss me.”

-

It makes no sense. But I don’t hesitate. Leaning down, my lips crashing into hers with such hunger it makes me uncharacteristically whine. My body is on fire, every inch burning up as our lips slide against one another, boxers growing damp quickly. My hand carefully holds her cheek, like the girl next to me might break. But to my surprise she pulls me on top of her by the back of my head.

I’m tasting for every inch of her, slowing down and taking my time, unlike that drunken mess on the balcony. Somehow this is even better, the kiss of the century even. Her body is cool to the touch, a sign of the fever going down. But I barely register, kissing her bottom lip affectionately, my hands holding her face. Izzie responds, her teeth pulling on my lip harshly making me groan. Her warm tongue brushes over it, soothingly.

I open my mouth further, my tongue meeting hers, other hand moving to the bare waist of the girl underneath me. I can’t believe this is real. That I’m kissing Izara. It feels like some type of dream, but the ache between my legs proves that every second is real. That she’s really underneath me. And If I’m feeling my core throbbing just from the kiss, I’m certain the dark haired girl feels something similar and the idea of my girl feeling such pain and not having it taken care of breaks my heart.

So my thumb dips underneath the band of her satin pyjama pants, feeling the lace of her underwear as it does. Zari lets out a shaky whimper, her eyes fluttering open.

“Paige,” she whines, brows furrowing.

“Yeah?” I ask breathlessly, leaning down to kiss under her ear which makes her squirm under my weight.

“C-can you keep your hands,” another moan as I suck on her neck, careful not to leave a mark. Izara didn’t seem like the type of woman you marked. “On top of the clothes.”

God she’s gonna be the death of me. But I oblige happily, pulling my hand back to her bare waist.

“Whatever you want Izzie,” I say between ragged breaths, making the girl moan as I keep kissing her neck. Izara’s hands wrap around my back, long acrylics scratching at the skin there.

“Shit,” I cuss under my breath, feeling like I might die or cum in my pants if I don’t get to have her. Still, I keep kissing her, fully aware what a privilege it was just to be on her like this. I do everything to try to stay composed, to keep my cool, to focus on putting on my best show as I return back to sloppily kissing her lips, shifting on top of her, my other hand beside Izzie’s face to hold me up. 

As I move my hips, my knee presses into her core, against the sheer fabric of the pajamas making her gasp straight into my mouth. I repeat the movement with purpose now, and can feel the heat radiating off her, the fabric between her legs growing damp. She wants this just as bad as I do.

“Lemme keep going, please,” I whimper, brows furrowed and barely conscious of what is happening at this point. “Lemme help ma, won’t even touch you.”

Her face is contorted with need, chest heaving desperately. 

“It hurts don’t it? Lemme help,” I coo, my lips wrapping around her earlobe and sucking softly. “Please.”

“Paige,” she whimpers, her body shaking with need. But I feel her shift, legs wrapping around my body. “Please.”

Oh God, I might actually cum in my sweats.

I kiss her all over, her neck, bare shoulders, mind spinning with need, my cunt growing wetter and wetter with every moan that leaves Izzie’s lips as I push my knee against her core, gently, so as to not hurt her.

“P-paige,” she moans my name. My name. 

“Ohh fuck,” I cuss, squeezing my eyes shut at the way her voice sounds, deep and gravelly, turning more high-pitched each time I grind my knee into her cunt.

“Let me get you right ma, please,” I beg breathlessly, shaking my head to myself trying to keep myself present. “Please, Iz, would do anything to fuck you,”

She’s speechless, whimpering desperately, but I can feel her muscles turning tense from the pleasure I’m giving her, legs shaking gently.

“Would be so good, just lemme eat that pussy,” I moan into her ear. “Gimme five.”

Pulling back, I meet her gaze. Her contorted face, dark brows furrowed and lips parted, green eyes blown out black. This is the most beautiful she has ever looked. Easily. Could look at her like this forever.

I can tell she’s considering, mulling it over in her head. Just as her lips part the ring of her phone interrupts the moment, the obnoxious sound blaring over the movie playing in the back. Of course. I can never have anything good. Just little tastes.

“Fuck,” Izzie mumbles and abruptly sits up as if suddenly thinking clearly. I climb off her, watching as she fumbles to find her phone.

“Here,” I catch it, handing it to her. It’s Kiran, her brother.

“Fuck, I promised I’d help him with his paper,” she groans, still trying to catch her breath.

“Uh, okay,” I murmur, attempting to catch mine, awkwardly shifting further on the couch, watching as the girl gets up and walks into the bedroom, closing the door behind her, leaving me there once again. Wanting more.

-

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[mindless-existence1]

Summery: Bakugo x Support Group Reader. Basically you leave some hickeys on Bakugo, your secret boyfriend, and tease him about it.

Also I made this while thinking of reader having a teleportstion quirk or smth that makes it easy to sneak into Bakugos dorm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bright light shown through the large balcony doors, illuminating the small dorm. Your eyes fluttered open and in your sleepy state you see your boyfriend rummaging around in his closet.

When he emerged a black shirt was in hand, which you recognized as his classic skull tee he sported regularly. As he changed you propped yourself onto your elbow, "Goodmorning my handsome and amazing boyfriend." You cheerfully greet the blond, though you cut yourself off with a long yawn.

Bakugo responds with a soft grunt as he throws his dirty pajama pants and shit in a laundry bin.

When you fully got a look at the teen across the room you notice the red and light purple spots coating his neck. You chuckle to yourself replaying last night activities in your mind. When Bakugo looks your way he has a puzzled look on his face.

"What's so funny?" Though his voice lacked the same fire as normal the question was still pointed. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the laugh bubbling in your throat.

It fails when you seem him scratch at the back of his neck obliviously. "You should see yourself." You let out in between fits of laughter.

Bakugo rolls his eyes but walks over to his full length mirror, curtesy of you, and looks at the reflection. You know the exact moment he realizes the marks on his neck won't be easy to cover up.

"What the hell?" The blond shouts, you see him pull at the neck of his shirt to see the full extent if the hickeys. "Whatever do you mean Kats?" You innocently ask.

Bakugo glares at you before going to his closet trying to find a jacket or sweatshirt to wear in hopes to cover up. "I swear to God I hate you." You just laugh at his remark, "You didn't hate me last night."

You don't need to see his face to know he gets flustered, him throwing a crumpled shirt at you confirms it. "Don't you have class to get ready for?" He asks after a moment, his voice rough.

"Nope! Unlike the Hero Course, Support Course doesn't have early morning training." You sigh happily and cuddle up in the blanket. From your spot on the bed you hear Bakugo mumble a "Shit."

"What?" You ask, looking over at him as he runs a hand through his blond spikey hair. He just shakes his head. "Can't find a clean sweatshirt to cover up with." You roll your eyes playfully at his words.

"Don't worry about babe, people were going to find out eventually." The look of disgust that crosses you boyfriends face make soup chuckle. "I'm not having those extras in my class harass me all day about this."

You shrug your shoulders, "I'm sorry babe but I don't know what to tell you." It takes a lot out of your to bite back the smile tugging at your lips while you look at the defeated blond.

"Kats everyone in your class is scared of you, just threaten to explode them or something if they mention it." Your boyfriend thinks for a moment, considering your words before surging his shoulders.

"I guess your right." You giggle, beckoning Bakugo over to you. Whe he makes his way back to the bed you gently grab his face and give him a kiss. "I'm always right. That's why I'm in the smart people class."

Bakugo elts out a breathy chuckle and shakes his head. "Your lucky I love you or I would have kicked you out a long time ago." You put a hand to your chest in mock suprise. "Kats that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

He rolls his eyes and walks away from the bed where you lay. "Don't push it."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Not a Word 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: Happy Monday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You can’t hear your father’s voice anymore. You stand at your door, listening for any sign of life. It’s not him you want to avoid, though he’s rarely happy to see you, but his company. You’re pretty sure they left but not entirely. You feel asleep working on your diamond art. 

You can’t wait much longer. You have to pee so bad that you can feel it in your throat. It’s late. You’re sure you’re alone. 

The door hinges scrape like they always do. You hate that noise. You tiptoe down the hall, towards the yellow blare of the kitchen light. You turn into the bathroom and shut the door. You sigh as finally you get your release. 

You flinch as you stand up and pull your elastic waistband over your hips. The hollow metal tink of a metal can sounds from outside. It could be your dad. That would make sense. He probably got up to get water or another can of beer. 

You wash your hands and go back out. You head towards your bedroom without a look in the other direction. The grizzly pronunciation of your name draws you back. Your eyes round as you scuff to a halt. 

You turn to face the burly man at the end of the hall. “Did I wake you?” Sy asks. 

You gulp and shake your head. He’s one of your dad’s coworkers from the shop. He comes over with a six-pack and they sit on the porch to enjoy it. Or they linger in the kitchen and play cards. 

As the shadows shroud him, he looks even bigger than usual. You’ve only ever seen him from a distance. Usually he’s sitting down. Maybe you just never noticed how gigantic he truly is. 

He flips on the hallway light and you blink. His dark beard adds to the squareness of his jaw and his shaved head has dark stubble in a deep peak on his forehead. His blue eyes sparkle despite his naturally fearsome posture. 

“I just got your daddy to bed,” he says. “He should be just fine. You check that he’s on his belly tomorrow morning.” 

You nod again. He does the same. He doesn’t appear frustrated as your father. He seems almost intrigued as he stays there, scratching above the collar of his tee. 

“You okay?” 

You nod. 

“Checkin’, ya know? It’s late. Dark can be scary, huh?” 

Yes, your head bobs in agreement. 

“Right, well, you have a good night. Let me know if ya need anything in the morning. I put my number on the fridge.” He taps on the door frame and turns away. 

Most of your dad’s friends or the same. They don’t pay you much mind. You prefer that. You’re not one for chatting. That fact irks your father to no end. You just stay out of his way, and his friends’, and hide in your room. 

You wait until you hear the front door. Then you go to lock it as Sy’s footsteps clamour on the porch. You stay there, his headlights shining through the window as his engine rumbles to life. The gravel crunches as he reverses out and steers off into the night. 

You go around and shut off the lights. You take your time in the kitchen tidying up the beer cans. You wipe the counters quickly and rinses the dregs off your fingers. You leave the light on so you can find your door. 

You shut yourself in and go back to bed. You leave the small lamp on next to it and turn your back to the glow. You yawn and close your eyes. 

Another night. It’s a bit sad that the best part of your day is going to sleep. Your waking hours aren’t very interesting. When you’re not doing the chores or the cooking, you’re in there, busying yourself with something meaningless. Nothing you do will ever make a difference; not for you or anyone else. 

That’s why your dad hates you so much. You can’t blame him. There’s no jobs out there for someone like you. You tried and all you got for it was embarrassment and a new slew of insults. 

You cross your arms over the top of the blankets and sigh. When you lay in your bed, you can be anything. Behind your eyelids, you can’t paint pictures more gleaming than those etched in the small plastic diamonds. You could be a princess or an actress or even just someone normal. 

What keeps you awake, isn’t your dreams. It’s the dread of the inevitable. Once you fall asleep, you’ll have to wake up again and face bitter reality. 

🩶

Your dad’s snoring rocks you through the walls. The house is small. You hear a lot more than you like. Often, you leave the old Casio radio playing on low to gloss over the cricks and cracks and groans. 

You get up, knowing better than to wait until he does first. If you have the coffee waiting, it will appease a fraction of his temper. With a hangover racking his skull, he won’t be in the best of moods. 

The dead heat of summer roils through the house. Your dad has an AC unit in his bedroom window but it’s not big enough to do much beyond his door. He keeps that closed most days anyways. On the cold days, he also keeps the small electric heater locked away with him. 

You change into a pair of loose linen capris and a plain tank top. You don’t go anywhere so you don’t dress for any occasion. Most of your clothes are akin to pajamas, or nothing more than. 

The machine is old and dingy. No matter how many times you descale it, it keeps that yellow stain in the plastic. You snap the lid shut and flip the red button so it lights up. Dad says once it stops turning on, he’ll waste money on a new one. 

You get yourself a glass of water and wait. It’s early still but his alarm won’t let him sleep in. As it goes off, you keep busy.  

There’s a slam and a grumble. Your dad stirs violently and his door hits the frame as he swings it open. He lumbers out as you pour him a mug. He belches and ignores you. You put it on the table as he turns down the hall and goes into the bathroom. He leaves the door open and you hear his stream piddle into the toilet. 

You ignore it and turn back to your task. Breakfast. It’s the same thing every day. You do his eggs, sunny side up, toasted Wonder bread, and six strips of bacon. The smell soon has your mouth watering. The chair scrapes the floor loudly as he drops into it heavily. 

He slurps loudly behind you as you put together his plate. You set it before him and he wiggles the empty mug at you. You take it and pour him another from the carafe. 

A car door snaps shut. You wince. You didn’t hear an engine, but you’d been too swept up in cooking. You give your dad his refill and go to check the front window. 

“Is it that mailman already?” He hollers. 

You shake your head, even knowing that he won’t see.  

“Don’t know why I fucking ask,” he snarls. 

You watch Sy jump out of his truck. While the axle is high, it isn’t very treacherous for a man his size. He kicks up gravel as he steps around the door and shuts it. You back away as he heads towards the house. 

He clomps up the steps, thump, thump, thump, and you jitter as he approaches the other side of the door. You wait until he knocks before you answer it. You peek out through a single inch of space. He grins. You don’t think he’s ever smiled at you. You assumed he never did at all. 

“How’s the old man?” He asks. 

You blink and let the door open a bit more and give thumbs up. As good as he’ll ever be.  

“That’s good,” he drawls. “So...” 

His eyes drift down, just a little. You squirm. Your shirt feels thinner as you stand there. Your nipple poke into the fabric and you hug yourself awkwardly. You remember you asked your father for a bra once. He laughed and you never brought it up again. You try to stick to loose clothing. 

You point over your shoulder then make a gesture as if you’re holding a fork and scooping. 

“Having breakfast, that’s nice.” 

You don’t have enough for him. You’ll wait until your dad’s at work before you sit and have your single slice of toast and peanut butter. 

“I already ate, in case ya worried,” he assures. “Was just comin’ to make sure I didn’t give him too much sauce.”��

He laughs. His booming humour makes your flinch. Your brows pop up and he quiets. 

“Sorry, I know, I’m a loud one, huh?” He snorts, “I don’t mean ta scare ya.” 

“I told ya, she don’t say shit,” your father growls into a yawn. You step back and the door opens all the way as you press yourself to the wall. He saunters forward in his boxers and tank top. “No point goin’ on like that when she probably don’t even understand.” 

“She understands me,” Sy avows confidently. “After a night with your drunk ass, it’s a breath of fresh air to have someone not yammer on.” 

“You’re the one brought me the piss,” your father retorts. 

“And you didn’t complain when I did,” he counters. “Wanted to see if ya were going to make it in today. Just in case I gotta finish up Dubeau’s clunker.” 

“I’ll be there,” your father sneers. “Why don’t you go and get it all warmed up for me?” 

“You’re a prick, Don,” Sy huffs. 

“What? No, you can’t see it,” your father covers his crotch and you blanch, looking away embarrassed. 

“Don,” Sy rebukes, “there’s a lady.” 

“It’s my daughter, dammit. She’s too stupid to get it,” he spits. “Hey, you, go on, kitchen’s a mess.” 

You nod and avoid looking at the other man out of embarrassment. Your father is crass, sometimes even at your expense. And he knows you can understand him. He must. You do everything he tells you too. 

“Well, then, I’ll see ya round,” Sy calls, though you only realise he’s talking to you as your dad changes the subject to some tail pipe. 

You stop and peek back. Sy watches you over your dad’s head. You give a wave, just a tilt of your hand, then continue into the kitchen. 

You can’t help but be thankful for the interruption. Sy’s boisterous intrusion offered a buffer between you and your dad’s hangover. You wash his plate, cutlery, and mug, before you move onto the pots and pans you used to cook. 

You can hear your dad barking outside at Sy. The other man responds with a deep rumble. Are they arguing? 

The front door swings open, “hey, girl,” you dad whistles, “more coffee. Bring some for this lump.” 

You take the order in stride. You don’t have enough for two cups, maybe half of one. You start a new pot and wait. When it’s finished, you dry your dad’s mug and pull out another. You carry both to the front door and elbow through. 

You hand one to each man as they stand by the porch railing. Your dad takes his gruffly, spilling some on your fingers, but Sy thanks you. 

“You didn’t even ask if he wanted sugar or cream,” your dad chides. You give him a startled look. He snorts. “How’d ya do that, huh? Maybe blink your eyes real big.” 

You frown at his mocking. Sy exhales and you back away. Now you have two men annoyed with you. You glance over at the bigger of the pair as he stares at you. You should’ve thought of you. Coffee is bitter, it’s why you don’t drink it. 

You point to his cup and he shakes his head, “coffee’s fine,” he insists, “I’ll have something sweet later.” You nod and retreat. You turn your back to them and step inside. Before you close the door, you hear Sy, “you know I take my coffee black, Don. No needa to give the girl a hard time.” 

You shut it before you can catch whatever snide remark your father tosses back. You know he won’t take kindly to being told what to do, especially if it’s to do with you. Or because of you. You’ll hear it all later, you’re sure. 

[qrrieterisunnq]

Hiii! I hope you’re doing well! I’d love to request a one-shot with Jack Hughes x female reader (enemies-to-lovers).The setting is a Halloween night, and Jack and the reader are part of the same friend group, though they’ve never really gotten along. The whole group decides to explore an abandoned, supposedly haunted house. As they explore, Jack and the reader start bickering like usual. Things escalate when they encounter what seems to be a ghost or something chasing the group, and everyone scatters to hide.

The reader ends up hiding in a small space (like a cabin or closet) where Jack is already hiding. They have a brief, tense argument, but then Jack notices that the “ghost” is nearby, so he covers her mouth to silence her or kisses her to keep her quiet (since they secretly have feelings for each other). In the end, it’s revealed that the whole haunted house experience was a set-up by their friends to finally get them to admit their feelings for each other.

Thank you so much if you consider writing this!💕

First of all, thank you so much for requesting and second sorry it took so long for me to write this!!🫣🩷

Halloween Jumpscare - Jack Hughes

— WARNINGS: bickering, kissing, maybe some grammar errors (sorry for that) — SUMMARY: Where their friends make a small trap on them, to make them realize that they have feelings for each other. — WORD COUNT: 1,7K — AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am not sure if it's good. I don't know how to write arguments or scary scenes so sorry for that!

masterlist | wip's

"Can you shut up for fuck’s sake?" Jack said, annoyance written all over his face. His eyes were glued to your figure as you carefully tried to climb over the concrete block on the floor of the abandoned house where you were with six other friends from your group. 

"And why should I, hm?" you snapped at him, and your leg slipped on the concrete block. 

"Because you are annoying," he snapped back as his hand grasped yours, catching you before you could fall straight on your face. "Watch where you are stepping." 

"Oh, come on, you two!" Rico sighed in annoyance at the two of you, who bickered on every trip you planned. "Can you for once shut up and both act like normal people, please?" He didn’t understand what was wrong with you. It hadn’t always been like this. A few years ago, you were best friends who wouldn’t do anything without the other. But then something happened, and you couldn’t stand each other anymore. 

"Sorry," you whispered, snatching your hand from his hold. "And you, don’t ever touch me again." You spat in his face before approaching Jasmine and Destiny, who were already waiting for you with soft smiles. 

"Come here, babes," Jasmine said while looking behind you at Jack, who was watching your back with unknown emotions in his eyes. "He is acting like a dick." 

"You know, it really sucked that Kai couldn’t come." You sighed and looked around the room. You shivered when you felt a breeze on your hands, and your head whipped in the direction from where the breeze came. 

"Yeah, it sucked. I thought I’d laugh at him," Rico sighed in fake disappointment, making you all chuckle. "Okay, I think we should continue." Jasmine and Destiny saluted, and you all walked deeper inside the house with Rico leading the way. 

Carefully, you stepped over the box on the ground, not wanting to touch it. 

You heard a quiet scoff from behind you, knowing exactly who it was. Jack. 

"Problem?" you asked, turning your head over your shoulder with an annoyed look. He shook his head like he had done nothing and walked ahead of you. You silently mocked the way he talked and rolled your eyes at him. 

"Asshole." 

"I heard that," he called out, chuckling slightly. 

"Good." 

"What was that?" Jasmine shrieked when she heard footsteps in the hall right next to them. 

"You heard that too?" you asked, looking around yourself. 

"Calm down, it’s an old house. It will make sounds," Jack sighed, shaking his head, but he couldn’t deny the weird feeling that grew in his stomach as he looked around himself. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t hear anything. So, when you screamed again, he whipped his head in your direction to make sure you were okay.

He'd never admit it, but he really does care about you even after what happened between you two.

“Fuck, why the hell did I agree to this?” you murmured under your breath, clutching onto Jasmine’s hand.

Even though you think like this, you’d never change this for anything. The time you spend with your friends is something you’d never change.

“Because you love us,” Rico grinned at you, but his smile disappeared when he spotted something in the corner of the room.

He turned around to his friends who were quietly standing next to each other as they started pulling out the ghost-hunting things from the shared bag Jack had on his back. “Guys, did you see that?” he asked them while he had his finger pointed in the direction of the something he saw.

“What?” Destiny panicked, her eyes examining the room that was dimly lit by only a hand torch. “Where? Don’t joke about this!” She pointed a finger at Rico with an angry and terrified look.

“I-It was right there.” He said seriously and slowly backed towards them when the same thing appeared in the corner again, this time seen by everyone.

“Fuck! Run!” Jasmine yelled and took off somewhere deeper in the building to hide. You watched as everyone left the room and something slowly made its way to you. Just as it was a few feet away from her, she got out of the trans and ran away as fast as she could. She had no idea where she was running until she reached a small closet, she didn’t even care if the thing was following her she opened the door and hid inside, taking in deep breaths not noticing that your back was pressed against someone’s chest.

“Get out!” Jack whisper-shouted when he felt your back.

“I can’t!” you gritted between your teeth, scooting Jack even deeper when you hear something.

“You can, I was here first.” Even though he tried to act like he didn’t want you here, he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer when he heard the same noises.

“Don’t touch me.” You swatted his hands away and stepped on the side, accidentally dropping something on the ground. “Shit.”

“Jesus, can you just stay still.” He said just in the moment when the noises got louder.

“Yeah right, sorry,” you mumbled and reached into your jacket pocket for your phone. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You mumbled and frantically started searching your pockets.

“What now?” annoyance was clear in his voice as he shot you a glance.

“Can’t find my phone! Why do you care asshole,” you snapped at him a little too louder than you wanted and immediately regretted it when you could see the thing slowly reaching you. The thing slowly approached the closet, where the two were hiding.

“Be quiet.” He murmured quietly, his eyes never leaving the thing. He could feel the slight breeze hitting him through the slightly opened door.

“Jack—” you stuttered out, as your whole body was shaky from the fear you were feeling. The thing out was real, you could tell by the look in Jack’s eyes. He never in his life believed in these things, but you could see it in his eyes, that this was reel.

Jack could tell how nervous and scared you were in the moment. He noticed the way your chest raised quickly, the way you picked on your fingers and lastly, he noticed the tears forming in your eyes.

He didn’t waste any minute when he saw that you were about to say something and he crashed his lips on yours in a slow yet firm kiss.

At that moment you didn’t even realize that Jack pressed his lips to yours in a bold attempt to make you shut up. He kissed you with something you couldn’t describe as his hands gripped your cheeks, as he tried to take your attention away from the thing.

You clutched onto his hands, tears still streaming down your face, as you heard some cracking outside.

You were about to say something, but Jack didn’t let you, he took the opportunity of you opening your lips and pushed his tongue inside, shutting you up.

You let out a quiet moan when he slightly pulled away sucking on your lower lip. He rested his forehead on yours, your breaths mixing as you tried to catch your breath.

“Is it gone?” you whisper finally opening your eyes.

“I don’t know, but I don’t hear anything.” He whispered his hands still on our cheeks, caressing them lightly. “Stay there, I’ll go look around—”

“N-no. You ain’t going anywhere.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay! I’ll be okay.” He says with a smile. “It’s nothing. If it wanted to hurt us, it already would.”

You look at him with tears in your eyes, you could never admit it but this shit looked so real. And it scared you even more when you saw that even Jack must have thought it was real. You shake your head, tightening your hold on his hands.

“Okay, okay, calm down. We’ll go together, okay? We’ll find a way out and then call the others to find out where they are. Hm?” his eyes never left hers as he talked to her trying to calm her down.

“Okay. B-but I need to get my phone.” You stuttered, as your hands trembled from the fear and adrenalin in your veins.

The next few things happened quickly, you two ran out of the closet not looking behind you, you entered the room where you were when the thing sowed, you quickly found your phone and then you ran out of the building, with Jack’s hand holding yours the whole time. As soon as you were out, you could see the thing running towards you, but you noticed that it didn’t look like something supernatural, more like a human.

And Jack must have noticed it too. “Okay, guys! Stop it!” he shouted with an annoyed look, his hand still holding yours. The person stopped in their tracks immediately. “Really funny, Kai.”

The person pulled down the costume and looked at Jack with a confused look. “How, bro?”

“Your shoes,” he pointed down and you immediately recognized them too. You sighed in relief and rested your head on Jack’s arm with a chuckle.

“Asshole, I told you to wear something else,” Rico shouted at him as he and the girls stepped out of the bushes. “But I think it worked out.” He shrugged looking at you two.

“What worked out?” confusion was written all over your face as you watched your friend who had a wide smile on their faces.

“This,” Jasmine pointed to your hands, which were still interlocked. Both of you look down and then at each other with disbelief. “We wanted you to finally realize that the thing that happened between you two should stay in the past and you two should finally express your feelings.”

“So did it work?” Kai asked with a smirk. He folded the costume in his bag slowly approaching them, just like the others.

Jack smirked down at you, causing your cheeks to turn red. Then he looked at the others with the same smirk and nodded his head.

“We kissed.” you whispered. The girls screamed in excitement and pulled you in a tight hug, meanwhile, Rico and Kai patted Jack’s back congratulating him.

You and Jack looked at each other with strong emotions in your eyes and you knew, that what happened in past stayed in past.

[allmylovc]

heartless!chris takes care of you when you´re drunk.

There had been a campus party tonight, and let´s just say you were having the time of your life. Now that you and chris broke up (again) you were able to enjoy it without any stress of him doing some stupid shit or getting mad over you doing some stupid shit.

You made out with like 10 diffrent guys, and took way too many shots, while chris stood there in the corner watching you like a hawk. He was seething. He hated seeing you around other men, it was disgusting watching you throw yourself on all these guys that you´ve never even met.

He walks up to you after he saw you stumble out the bathroom, and plop on the couch. He takes your drink out hand, your head shoots up "Hey!" you protest as you reach to take your drink back. He shakes his head and sighs "What´s wrong with you, huh?" he said as he taps your head with his other hand.

"Nothing." you scoffed, with an adorable pout on your lips. He rolled his eyes "You´re acting like such a dumbass today." your heart ached at his words. He always acted like this when you two broke up, but he wasn´t any better and he would do the same. So why was it a problem when you did it?

He tilted his head and smirked "C´mon, you´re to drunk to be around all these people." he said as he reached his hand out for you to take.

Which you did.

You two stood up and made your way out the party. He took you to his car, buckled your seatbelt for you and drove off. Once you two got to his place he got you carefully out the car and took you inside.

The second you stepped foot inside you felt that uneasy feeling in your stomach “I’m gonna puke.” you said as you put a hand over your mouth. His eyes widen and he immediately takes you over to the bathroom. Your stomach churns, and you bend over the toilet, barely holding yourself upright.

The nausea is overwhelming, and all you can do is gag, your body shaking with each heave. Chris is kneeling beside you, holding your hair into a make shift ponytail.

His face twists up in disgust as he hears your vomit pouring into the toilet “Let it all out.” He said quietly, as his fingers brushed through your hair.

You wipe your mouth and flush the toilet, and sit back on the cold tile, your legs weak and trembling beneath you. Chris sits down as well, leaning his back over the tub with a grunt.

“What were you thinking?” he asked, you looked up meeting his gaze, you shrugged “I don’t know, chris.” You ran a hand through your hair—moving it away from your face “I was sick of your bullshit,” he scoffed and shook his head “So you’re blaming you being drunk and stupid on me?” he laughed bitterly “Of course.” he huffed “Cause you’re always right, and everyone else is wrong.”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes “That’s not what i meant.” you protested “Then what did you mean?” he snapped “You acting stupid and being a fucking slut has nothing to do with me.” he retorted harshly.

The silence grew heavy and so did the tension in the room. Maybe he was right, maybe you were being a total fucking slut, but in your defense you just wanted to forget about him.

“You know how pissed i was when i saw you make out with all those guys?” he admitted silently. You felt a glimmer of happiness knowing you were able to successfully make him jealous, but even then you still felt a bit of guilt gnawing at your chest.

He met your gaze “This is.. this is stupid.” he scoffed, you nodded in agreement “I know it is,” you sighed as you sat straight “I just wish you wouldn’t act the way you act all the time.” He bit his lips “Yeah.” he whispered “I’m sorry.”

“You act so heartless all the time, chris.” he said quietly, he bit the inside of his cheek “I just wish you could show me how you feel sometimes.” he continued.

You two just sat there for a moment in the awkward silence, and the heavy tension in the room. You both fucked up bad, but unlike him you were willing to talk and apologize for your actions. Meanwhile he just sat there and said absolutely nothing.

You looked up and sighed “I love you, chris.” your confession hanging in the air, he didn’t even look at you or show a hint of sympathy or affection he just nodded.

“I know.”

©ALLMYLOVC all rights reserved.

⊹ authors note  — woohoo first heartless!chris blurb, and i don’t how to feel about it, idk why i criticize my work so much, but enjoy! i apologize if there are any misspelled words or grammar errors. english is not my first language.

tags: @marrykisskilled @chrislilcumslvt @sosasturns @cyberskulzzz @slut4chris888 @waitforyrlove @zebonos @/sturnioloangell @slctsblogana @anyaa2s @emely9274 @shadowthesim @frankoceanfanpage @mrsarnold @freshloveee @t0riiiis @jetaimevous @sturn777 @sturniologirlzz @venusbabysblog @ch6rm

[writingwisterias]

if you can do a drabble or something pretty please, i need a vulnerable leon. like i mean he comes home from a mission or something and he tries to hold it in and tell you everything is fine but he just bawls his eyes out and you pamper him and take care of him and tell him it’s gonna be okay and he opens up to you and stuff

-🪑

Hi 🪑!

I hope you are doing well!!! Sorry it took me a few days!!

Warnings: Slight angst, Fluff, Comfort, Leon deserves all the hugs

RE4R!Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Sometimes everything becomes too much for him, it didn't help that the rain soaked through his coat, his shoes and trousers. The mission wasn't the best either, coming back to the office spending hours being tested on for plagas, interrogating about every little detail he had to live through. They didn't understand what it was like, to live a nightmare and relive it again and again until every little detail was covered and put into a report no one would touch.

You barely heard the knock on the door the rain pelting your windows was too loud. Leon was still busy with work and said he wouldn't be able to see you for a few more days so you weren't expecting anyone. You feet thudded softly as you made your way to the door, fumbling nervously with the locks as you tried to open them. You expected to be met with someone trying to sell you something or a lost delivery boy not your soaking wet boyfriend shivering. "Oh Leon" you whispered as you ushered him inside a small puddle already forming on the floor where he stood.

He shrugged off his coat trying not to get water everywhere but the damn thing was stuck to his skin. You heard his frustrated groan as he tried to pry himself away from the fabric. Your hand was warm when it touched his face moving his head to look at you. "Hey hey stop...it's alright, let me help"

You were always so gentle, he loved that about you. Your touch was soft as you pulled the fabric, the wet sounds as it separated from him made you both cringe. He sighed once free from the offending item of clothing, a soft smile appearing on his features as you dragged him through the apartment. "Your floors are going to get wet" he mumbled, looking behind him at the trail of small puddles he was leaving. "I don't care, you'll get sick if you stay in these any longer" you spoke softly. "You will care when you slip on one of the puddles later"

"not when I have you to catch me"

He smiled at that, he was used to being depended on by everyone else but with you it felt different. It felt safer and more domestic. Maybe it's because instead of protecting your life from zombies or infected villagers - he was helping you reach a cup from the top shelf or doing the dishes after you cooked. Small things that helped him feel human.

The shower stream cleared his nose, the warm pellets of water made him jump as they touched his freezing skin. He watched as you put his wet clothes in the laundry basket, his eyes widened in surprise as yours soon joined his. You reached behind him grabbing your shampoo, fingers twirling in a signal for him to turn around. Your fingers worked wonders against his scalp, his eyes closing relishing in the way you worked through the strands. A soft hum left your lips as worked it was like you were scraping his brain free from any lingering horrors.

It wasn't until he spun back around to hold his head under the shower stream you realized he was crying, the tremble in his shoulders now noticeable. "Leon?"

You didn't know what he was on about, he had never told you the specifics of the mission but judging from the recent news channel celebrating the return of the daughter's president you could two together. "But you didn't fail, you bought her back"

Your voice was angelic, he didn't fail to notice the concern and love that laced just two simple words. His knees hit the shower floor with a thud burying his head in his hands. You watched his shoulders shake, the small scraps and bruises now prominent his skin was red from being so cold. All evidence of what he went through.

You knelt down in front of him, gently pulling his hands away from his face. Your heart cracked when you met his eyes, bloodshot and tired after a long night of trying to survive. Leon's head fell on your shoulder, holding you close. He enjoyed the skin to skin, it made him feel real. Made you feel real. "I thought I was going to fail...I was so close to losing her so many times"

Leon nodded, a soft smile on his features as he looked down at you. "I love you" he whispered. It was your turn to smile, ignoring the way the water had now gone cold. Leon's body shielded you from most of the cold water, the same way he shielded you from most of the horrors of the world. "I love you more. I'm proud of you. Always"

[sonotpattismith]

while i'm here writing songs for you

pairing: musician!choso x childhood friend!reader word count: 10.6k content: childhood friends to lovers, everyone knows they're in love except them, jealousy, mentions of virginity loss, dying on the grunge choso hill, lil angst, fluff, smut, 18+ inspired by: bless the telephone by labi siffre

“Hah! Your old man’s gonna kill me.” 

Through shut eyes, a freshly eighteen-year-old Choso bit back an amused grin as best he could as to avoid disrupting his uncle’s work against his face. 

“Nah, he caught Yuji at a casino this week, so I’m the golden boy for the foreseeable future while he’s grounded.” The boy muttered with a small smirk. He did feel for his little brother, often sneaking into his room with his console to entertain him for at least a short while in the midst of his prison sentence. Still, he had to admit that his timing was impeccable— giving the older sibling the perfect cushion to fall back to when Jin sees what his son had done to celebrate his birthday. 

“Shit, yeah, I almost forgot.” Sukuna mumbled with a tickled shake of his head as he gripped at his nephew’s forehead in concentration. “Let the brat know I’ve still got his money whenever my boring ass brother lets him off house arrest.” 

“Choso!” 

The boy was eternally grateful that his uncle wasn’t as jumpy as he was, the man tightening his grip around his head in preparation for his jolt of surprise at the sudden shout. 

“Ohhh, I’d be more scared of your girl than your dad, punk.” 

You had burst through the doors of the tattoo parlor like a bat out of hell, your breath heaving slightly with the expended effort of hauling ass all the way over here from the restaurant you worked part time at. After receiving a cryptic picture from your best friend of him sat in his uncle’s tattoo chair with that deceivingly sheepish smile on his face, you could barely concentrate on taking orders correctly the remainder of your shift. Huffing out a sigh, you spotted those familiar, black combat boots hanging off the end of one of the leather seats. 

Choso didn’t bother to correct Sukuna’s labeling of you as his girl, as it was proven a wasted effort after years of telling him that wasn’t the case. It also didn’t hurt that the title made his stomach flip excitedly each time he heard it. 

“Oh my god.” You gaped once you finally reached the chair he was laid at. Half of the deep burgundy, nearly black mark that was being tattooed across his nose was already finished, and you could already picture the crash out Jin Itadori would have when he laid his eyes on his eldest son. 

Cracking one eye open, the birthday boy took in the sight of you, cheeks still red and puffing from the run you took to get to him. Underneath that first layer of shock though, he could see the barely disguised wonder in your eyes as you assessed the situation at hand. Sukuna paused his ministrations to give his nephew a break, and so that you could see the progress. 

“What the fuck! Your dad is gonna kill you.” You laughed incredulously, stepping closer to get a better look. Choso was just glad that his face was already tinged red from the irritation of the needle so you wouldn’t notice how he flushed insecurely under your gaze. 

It was his main reasoning behind the oddly placed tattoo, actually. Since he was little he could remember his face growing noticeably hot over the tiniest of compliments, looks, or touches. Maybe it was far-fetched, but he hoped the imposing mark across his nose and cheeks would draw the attention away from that little quirk of his. It also didn’t hurt that the stencil looked cool as fuck. 

“Not if you’re with me, he won’t.” Choso suggested with a sly, hopeful smile on his face, and you quickly shook your head at him. His face fell into that pout he had mastered to use specifically on you. “C’mon, he’ll take it easy on me if you’re there, please!”

“It was bad enough having to be your human shield when you got your nose pierced, Cho— no way.” 

“I’ll let you check my back for blackheads.” 

It fell silent for a moment as you contemplated his offer.

“You two are fuckin’ freaks.” Sukuna scoffed in disgust beside you before dragging his nephew’s chin back to face forward to continue working. You winced watching the needle begin to pierce at his already irritated skin, and you found yourself instinctively slipping your hand into his to squeeze it. 

“Does it hurt?” You grimaced, leaning a bit closer to watch. 

Choso almost said no, because, truthfully, he had gotten used to the pain about half an hour ago, but he took note of the way you clutched at his hand to comfort him. His lips twitched nervously at the feeling as he closed his eyes once again. 

“Uh— yeah, kind of.” He mumbled, taking the opportunity to lace his fingers through yours under the guise of having something to squeeze onto when he was in pain. His uncle watched the interaction with a deadpan expression, knowing full well that the kid hadn’t so much as flinched once since he’d sat down. Shaking his head with a quiet tut, he barely tried to conceal his amused smirk. 

“What about you, birthday girl, huh? You getting some celebratory ink too?” Sukuna questioned, wiping at the side of Choso’s nose that he’d just filled in. You cringed as you watched the tiniest amount of blood trickle at the bridge of his nose. 

“Don’t know, I think Cho took all the balls in this friendship.” You admitted with a defeated smile.

“Don’t be such a wimp.” Your best friend teased with a careful smile as he stretched his lower half against the stiff chair. The black sweater he was wearing rode up a bit, practically commanding the attention of your wandering eyes. There was a barely noticeable trail of dark hair leading down into the band of his joggers, and your lips parted as you tried to recall when the fuck that had happened.

The last couple of months in your friendship with Choso had been… getting a little difficult. You two had been practically joined at the hip since you were six years old and yelled at a group of first graders for not singing happy birthday to him as well after having overheard his dad wishing him a happy birthday that morning during drop off. For a while, the two of you would tell people at school that you were twins even though it was so clearly not the case, but six-year-old you and Cho were sure that you had everyone convinced. 

He had always been a bit of an introvert, so you had been the greatest birthday gift he could have ever hoped for. So, the awkward boy stuck to your side from that day on. Wherever one was, the other was never too far behind, and this would now be the twelfth birthday you two would be spending together. 

Choso had certainly been… changing though from that lanky little boy who would sniffle and cry each time you two parted for the day (as if you didn’t attend the same school). He had grown taller, his voice had dropped a few octaves, and these days you were finding yourself worrying about the timeline of your best friend’s happy trail. For a while you blamed it on the raging hormones that came along with puberty, but you were eighteen now and weren’t sure how much longer that excuse would hold up in your denial-filled brain. 

This was just one more way he was changing, you convinced yourself as you anxiously waited for him to unlock the front door of his house, his nose and cheeks still glistening with the antibiotic ointment Sukuna had slathered onto his fresh tattoo. He would have never had the courage to do something so bold even just a couple years ago. You had to admit though, the odd choice of tattoo did suit him, emphasizing those tired, chocolate eyes of his so nicely. 

It was silent in the Itadori house as you two crept in, scanning the area apprehensively with each step you took. You clutched at the back of his shirt, tugging him to lean down as you whispered into his black-studded ear. 

“I don’t think anyone’s—”

“Happy birthday you—” Poor, sweet Jin Itadori’s shout of celebration got stuck right in the back of his throat as his eyes fell upon his eldest son, a lit up birthday cake still clutched in his hands. He blinked a few times as though there was possibly just something in his eyes, but the wide-eyed expression of anxiety on the boy’s face gave him away. “What in god’s name did you do to your face? Was this your uncle? Did he tell you this was a good idea because I—”

“It was my idea.” Choso corrected, not-so-subtly attempting to nudge you forward as if you would soften the blow of his father’s wrath, who’s honey eyes fell frantically upon you. 

“Did you know about this? Please tell me you two are punking me or something.”

“She didn’t know.” He quickly defended despite the fact that it would have been a lot easier to share the blame. Rubbing at the back of his neck, he attempted a light-hearted smile. “C’mon, don’t I look—”

“You look like you’re about to be stuck working in that tattoo shop with your uncle the rest of your life because no one is going to hire you with that thing!” The man had begun pacing the length of the kitchen with the cake still in tow, shaking his head in disbelief before stopping to gape at his son in horror once again. “You couldn’t have at least waited until after prom? Graduation? All your photos— ruined! Oh god, I think I’m going to pass out—”

“Calm down, it’s not that big a deal— not like I did anything illegal, y’know like sneaking into a casino while underaged.” Choso attempted to distract him with a sheepish smile, stepping forward to take the cake out of his hands lest he really pass out. With his now free hands, Jin was tearing at the roots of his hair as he continued his frantic pacing, mumbling about not reminding him of Yuji’s recent run in with the law. “Besides, I’m not going to prom anyway.”

Now it was your turn to gape at the freshly-tattooed birthday boy. 

“You’re not?” You questioned, desperately trying not to sound as dejected as you felt. Though you two had never talked about it, you had just assumed that you’d be going to prom together given all the other important milestone events that you had completed hand in hand. Hell, you had even been putting off an offer from a fellow classmate of yours with the impression that Choso would be asking you to be his date— platonically, of course.

“You’re not?” Jin echoed in horror, finally looking up from where his face had been shoved into his hands. The man didn’t miss the disheartened expression that flashed across your face despite your best efforts to conceal it. “Why not? You’re only a high-schooler once, Choso, don’t be silly.”

Perhaps his nervous convincing was a bit overkill, but damn it how he was tired of watching his clearly love-sick son grow older and older without growing any wits about him on what was going on right under his nose. After hosting years worth of playdates for you two as mere children, to encouraging his son to be a little gentler with you as you began going through those awkward years that plagued every pre-teen girl, all the way to having to watch with barely concealed frustration at the way you two fell into one another’s ebb and flow so gracefully without any semblance of self-awareness— Jin was sure that he was more excited than the actual seniors for prom to come around, eager to force you two into the most obvious of couple’s poses for photos before sending you off for the night. 

“Why would I go to prom? You know I hate that kind of stuff.” He explained obviously before turning to see the settling shock lingering on your face. It made him blink a few times, brows furrowing in confusion. “I-I mean, are you going?”

“Um…” You stammered over your words, trying to suppress the flush of embarrassment that you felt creeping up your neck for having assumed that Choso would ask you to prom. He felt his heart in his throat, breath hitching in slight anticipation, because he was sure he wouldn’t have too terrible of a time if it was you he was going with, but the last thing he wanted to do was make things weird by asking you to be his date. “Y-Yeah, I was planning to go. Geto had asked me a few days ago, so—”

“You’re going with Geto?” It felt like his heart had fallen straight through his ass, and it took every inch of restraint in him to not begin banging his head against the dry-wall in a bitter rage, because why did he not think to ask you first? “I didn’t know you two talked like that.”

Jin wasn’t sure how much more of this he could stand to watch before he wrung his son’s neck out. He cleared his throat in an attempt to subtly get Choso’s attention and hopefully send some sort of telepathic communication to him, but he was far too focused on this Geto character that you had mentioned to get his head out of his own ass. 

“We don’t really, but… he asked me, and I wanted to go.”

My god, does she have to spell it out for him? Did I fail somewhere along the way as a father that my son turned out such an oblivious hard head? Just ask her— ask her!

“Oh. Well… that’s good, I guess.” 

Jin hoped to god that as Choso blew out half the candles on you two’s shared birthday cake that he was wishing for some common sense. 

You two did the best you could to shake off the sudden awkwardness following the conversation about prom. At the very least, you two still had to give each other your gifts, so you figured that would cushion the tension. You followed him up the familiar path to his room where you had had Yuji drop off his gift for you so it’d be here when you two got back, biting down an excited smile. 

“No way.” Choso gaped just seconds after opening the door. Stepping in to get a closer look, he quickly turned on his heels to stare incredulously at you. “No way— this is too much. I-I can’t take this.”

There leaned upon the side of his bed was a sleek black electric guitar— one he’d been keening over since the acoustic guitar his dad had gotten him damn near nine years ago now had mysteriously snapped at the neck. Okay, maybe it wasn’t so mysterious because you did tell Choso that climbing up onto his shoulders to get the spider that had been terrorizing his ceiling wasn’t a good idea, because sure enough as soon as the wretched thing moved an inch, you jolted back, sending both of you tumbling to the ground with only his poor guitar to break the fall. 

“After all the fake flirting I had to do to rack up enough tip money for it? You sure as hell can take it.” 

“Please, I can’t—”

“You can, and you will.” 

His face was burning with the guilt of how much you had spent on him, but the glimmering shine of the fresh guitar in his peripheral was helping to soften the blow a bit. The boy’s fingers were practically twitching with the anticipation of getting his hands on the thing, but he stopped himself. With a shy smile shot your way, he crouched down to pull out a box that had since been hiding under his bed. You smiled eagerly before sinking down to sit criss-crossed straight across from him, your present filling the small gap left between you. 

He laughed affectionately as he watched you struggle to pry the box open, deciding to put you out of your misery after a minute or so and tearing the cardboard apart for you. The first thing that caught your eye was a vinyl record— your favorite album that you had introduced Choso to a few years back. It held a tender spot in both of your hearts for that very reason, and its lead single had consequently been the first song he learned to play on his guitar all those years ago. 

Even all these years later he could still feel the sting in his fingers that had yet to callous protectively against the instrument’s strings as he stayed up until the sun rose that next morning trying to perfect each chord so that he could play it for you when you came over. It was choppy at best, what with all the scrapes on his irritated fingers and the lack of sleep, but the dewey eyed look on your face made him feel like he was Jimi fucking Hendrix, only fueling his motivation to get better— to impress you. So, despite how his fingers began to bleed, he played it for you over and over again until you were satisfied.

The sight of the nostalgic album nearly made you tear up pathetially, but you pulled yourself together to beam up at him with all the light of a thousand suns. He flushed under your gaze, quickly looking down to push the box toward you again with a jut of his chin. 

“There’s still something in there.”

Tearing your eyes from him, you pushed back the flaps of the box to get a better look, finding a far too expensive looking record player sitting at the bottom of the large box that he’d definitely been begging neighbors to let him clean their car or mow their lawn in order to afford. Gasping softly, an incredulous laugh bubbled up your chest as you shifted onto your knees. 

“Cho, this is so cool!” You guffawed, fingers struggling to wrangle the turntable out of the damned box to no avail. Unable to fight back his smile, he moved to brush your hands away and grab it for you, setting it down atop his black comforter. Running your fingers down the glossy box, you looked up at him with raised brows. “You’re gonna come back to my house to help me set it up, right?”

“You putting me to work on my birthday?” He quipped with a smirk as he fell back against the bed, hoisting up his new guitar to rest on his stomach. 

“I’ll give you the day.” You caved in mock resignation as you laid beside him, head shifted to observe the way he fiddled with the tuners. “New face tattoo, new guitar— your rockstar look is really coming together.”

“Yeah?”

“For sure— just missing some guyliner.”

His nimble fingers paused against the strings, lips pursing as he peered over at you. It was dead silent as a slow smile spread across your face— because you could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. It was only a mere five minutes later that you found yourself digging your fingers into his jaw to stop him from flinching away each time the eyeliner pencil drew a little too close to his iris. 

“Sit still, dude.” You grumbled, stepping closer between his spread legs as he sat impatiently in his desk chair. 

Huffing out a sigh, he tried not to squirm at your burning proximity. Your tongue was creeping out the corner of your mouth in concentration, and the hand that had since been on his jaw moved to brush the hair away from his forehead. He could feel the warm puffs of your breath fanning against his face, driving his legs to squirm against the floor, which seemed to be the final straw for your patience. 

Choso thought his heart would leap out of his chest when you planted yourself firmly on his lap, your legs hanging over the side of his chair. His arms quickly fell to his sides as though weighed down by bricks, dangling limply as his fingers flexed  apprehensively. Gulping anxiously, he tried not to focus on the way the fat of your thighs squished against him. 

“Close your eyes, Cho.” You murmured quietly as you began working on his lids. He did so swiftly, eager to not have to worry about where to place his gaze.

“So, um…” The boy cleared his throat, trying desperately to get his mind anywhere else before he created a problem that would be embarrassing for the both of you. “You’re really going to prom with Geto?”

“Mhm.” You hummed simply, chewing on your bottom lip as you smudged the freshly placed liner with the edge of your thumb. Perhaps you should have said more, but you weren’t sure that you trusted your voice if you were to speak right now. 

“Do you… I mean are you—” 

“Look up for me.” 

Cursing himself mentally to just get it the fuck together, he tried again as he did as he was told, warm eyes glancing up at the ceiling. 

“I just didn’t know you liked him is all.” He finally got out as his pulse pounded against the fingers you had pressed against his jaw and neck once again. “You’ve always told me about stuff like that.”

With a tickled smile, you leaned back in his lap to narrow your eyes knowingly at him. Upon noting your silence paired with the way you had stopped your work against his eyes, he finally looked back down, and you had to bite back the delighted gasp from seeing the way the smudged, dark liner paired so beautifully with the rest of him, making his already mysteriously dark eyes that much more sultry. 

“You’re jealous, Choso!” 

“What? N-No, I was just—”

“You are so jealous that I didn’t tell you about Geto.”

“I’m not jealous!”

“You are!”

“Am not!”

He was so jealous, Choso determined as he stared up at his ceiling the dreaded night of prom. His fingers idly strummed at the new guitar that laid across his stomach, trying to get his mind off of the fact that you hadn’t even bothered to send him a picture of your dress. It had always been him that was the first to see your new haircuts, fresh manicures, and imaginative outfits, and it was eating him alive that for the first time in twelve years, another guy was going to get to witness that little spin of display you did each time you wore something you felt particularly pretty in. 

It didn’t help that he’d already gotten an earful from his dad when he got home from school that day about the fact that he still hadn’t righted his wrong and asked you instead. Jin must have gone on for at least an hour about what a shame it was that of all the experiences you two had shared, one as important to you as this one would be hand in hand with someone else. For the first time since the start of your long-winded friendship, he was sharing you with someone, and Choso was quickly realizing that he was selfish— and unashamedly so. 

The event had already been going on for about two hours now, and he was coming to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t hear from you tonight. The familiar notes of that favorite song of yours that he had learned all those years ago filled his ears as he began absentmindedly plucking at the strings under his fingertips. Ever so slowly, the melody began shifting into one he’d never heard before, taking its own shape as it filled his melancholy room with feelings of you, and how much he’d taken it for granted all those times he had you laying beside him as he toyed with the notes, telling him what sounded nice and what he needed to work on.

The notes suddenly screeched awkwardly as his phone began buzzing in his back pocket, yanking him from his pensive sulking with its imposing tune. Blinking a few times, he frantically tossed his hips up to wrangle his phone out from behind him, the head of his guitar smacking him in the face with the sudden movements. 

He shot up out of bed pathetically upon seeing your name lighting up his screen along with a picture he’d taken of the two of you in the mirror a few months ago when you tried to give him red highlights. There was dye nearly everywhere except where it was supposed to be, yet you still beamed up at the mirror despite the red streaks covering your face and arms, gloved hands still tangled into his hair. 

Clearing his throat, he quickly swiped to answer the call before it went to voicemail. 

“Did someone spike the punch or—”

“Choso?” Your voice sounded hushed, but it still wavered ever-so-slightly against the sound of music blaring in the distance. The smile quickly fell from his face. “Do you think you could… come get me?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, I’m coming. What’s going on?” He was barrelling through his hectic room to find any pair of shoes to shove on, nearly tripping over himself as he hopped toward the front door on one foot. 

“Um… nothing, I just… really wanna go home.” 

There wasn’t even the tiniest part of him that was convinced, but that would just have to be a conversation for later because there was a timid vulnerability and tremor in your sweet voice that he’d never heard before. Snatching his dad’s keys from the hook by the door, he was requesting your location before racing down the street. There was a slight possibility that he had run more than a few red lights on his way to the hotel that was hosting your school’s prom in the banquet hall. The car had barely come to a stop when he was flinging the door open to rush toward the bench you were sitting at out front. 

“What are you doing out here by yourself? Where’s Geto?” 

But your eyes were fluttering around you cautiously, scoping the surrounding area with a shake of your head as your best friend pulled you up by your arm. 

“Please, can we just go? I don’t—”

“Right— yeah, okay, come on.”

It was silent on the ride home save for your hushed request that he take you back to his house for the night instead. Cautionary side long glances were continuously tossed your way throughout the drive, and you could practically feel the concerned curiosity eating alive at him as your body faced the passenger side door. You were eternally grateful for the fact that the other two residents of the Itadori household had already turned in for the night when you two arrived. 

Choso flipped the lights on in his room, carefully inching the door of his room closed so as not to wake anyone up. When he turned, he was finally able to get his first good look at you, and he was absolutely bursting at the seams to know what Geto must have done to fuck up a night with you as his date looking as ethereal as you did standing in the middle of his room. 

You were sighing dejectedly as you tugged open his drawers to fish out something to change into, but Choso was still stuck by the door, eyes taking in each detail of your glittering makeup and intricately lined lips. 

“You…” His words drifted as you turned your back toward him so he’d undo your zipper. “You look beautiful.”

You paused, head slowly turning to look over your shoulder at him with misty eyes. 

“Thanks, Cho.”

Quickly working your zipper down, he turned to face the door as you stepped out of your dress to shrug on a pair of his sweatpants and a crewneck. His leg swayed anxiously while he listened to the gentle rustling of clothes behind him. 

“Did… did something happen?”

Upon hearing the subtle creak of his bed as you sank down onto it, he carefully turned around. The bed dipped by your head where he sat himself, and you felt him absentmindedly begin pulling the myriad of pins from your hair. Flushing red, you covered your face with your hands as you recalled how your night had progressed, not caring how you were smudging your makeup against your hands. 

“He… he just wanted to have sex with me.”

Choso felt his heart crack at your shaky explanation, the guilt he had been experiencing for not having asked you to prom himself returning tenfold. The bobby pin in his grasp bent between his fingers as he thought about how Geto had ruined what was meant to be a special night for you. 

“That guy’s a loser, he’ll probably die a virgin anyway.” He attempted to lighten the mood with a hesitant, breathy laugh, but it died in his throat when you slowly sat up to look at him, your now loose hair falling messily in your face and tears brimming your eyes. His stomach dropped at the mortified expression scrunching up your typically cheerful face, and he gulped down the bile rising in his throat. “Oh.”

A sob racked your body as you moved to curl into a tight ball, your head resting against his tense thighs. His hands hovered over you uncertainly before slowly coming down to brush at the hair invading your face.

“So, you…” He couldn’t even bring himself to say it, the words tasting bitter on his tongue.

“I feel like an idiot.” You cried, fisting at his pajama pants. “I stopped him right after he— he put it… in, but—”

“It’s okay.” Choso cut off your embarrassed rambles, pulling you up to wrap you in a tight embrace. He wasn’t sure if he could handle listening to the details. “Did he stop when you asked him to?”

A heavy sigh of relief left him when you nodded against his shoulder. It was silent for a few minutes, your soft cries soaking into the fabric of his tattered, band t-shirt.  

“I’m sorry.” He whispered dejectedly, trying desperately to get the image out of his head of you underneath of Geto with your makeup done up so prettily for someone who didn’t deserve it. He thought about how none of it would have happened had he just grown a pair. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to prom. I should’ve taken you, none of this would have—”

“It’s not your fault.” You interrupted, finally lifting your head from where it had burrowed into his neck to look up at him, your lip still trembling as your once pristine makeup smeared down your red cheeks. 

As you stared into his dewey, warm eyes, you allowed your thoughts to wander to how your night might have ended had Choso been your date, how you had stopped Geto after the gruelling realization hit you that no hands felt as right against your skin without the gruffness of guitar-string callouses. Your stomach churned nervously, and you laid back down against his lap, unable to face him as the words came tumbling from your lips. 

“I wish it would have been you, Cho.”

Choso’s heart sputtered to an abrupt halt— at least that’s what it felt like as your words sunk in. Slowly, he laid back against his pillow, careful not to jostle you in your spot against his thighs. Staring up at the ceiling, his mouth opened and closed a few times. 

“Y-You mean as a prom date, right?” The question came out apprehensively, because, deep down, you both already knew the answer. You closed your eyes nonetheless, a final tear slipping down your cheek. 

“Yeah, as a prom date.” Your lie came out barely a whisper as he chewed on his bottom lip.

“I wish it would’ve been me too. Y’know, your… prom date.”

It was the first time both of you knew that something had shifted in your relationship, though neither of you were brave enough to mention it the next morning when you woke. 

That fateful night was two years ago now, and you had had ample time to come to the realization that perhaps you should have been more upfront with him, because Choso was now hundreds of miles away at an arts school with only a telephone keeping you two together. 

It had been a difficult conversation with shifting eyes and unnecessarily guilty frowns, but when your best friend had broken the news to you that he’d been accepted into a different university than the one you’d be attending, you couldn’t have been happier that he was pursuing his passion for music. When he dropped the bomb that it was nearly six hours away— that was a tougher pill to swallow.

You two had been doing the best you could though— calling each other every other night and texting in between to make sure to keep up to date on everything university life had to offer you. Still, things would get busy sometimes, what with Choso’s occasional shows that he’d been playing with a local band in his college town, and your downright diabolical class and exam schedule. Things certainly weren’t the same anymore, but you desperately tried to cling onto him.

Additionally, in your absence Choso was reminded of just how much of a clutch you had been for him. He had never been the best at talking to others, relating to the types of casual niceties that seemed to connect people, but he had never had to until now because you had always been just enough for him. Sure, he had warmed up enough to his bandmates, but it was never the same— not when he sat alone in his room at night strumming melodies he only wished he would have played for you earlier when he still had the chance to do something about these things he was feeling.

On your end of the world, it certainly didn’t help that his band had grown a modest following, and it seemed that for the first time, the rest of the world was also beginning to notice Choso. 

Choso, the one boys and girls alike used to veer away from in the halls at school because of his terrifyingly blunt, resting bitch face. 

Choso, the one who spent the majority of highschool with limbs that seemed too long for his body until he grew into his own. 

Choso, the one who, unless you were beside him, often took jokes too literally and ended up embarrassing himself each time he opened his mouth. 

Choso, the one who you had stuck beside throughout each awkward phase and experimental hairstyle until he landed on the shag cut that suited him so nicely. 

Choso, the one who had been receiving the nastiest of thirst comments under each of his band’s social media posts as the rest of the world caught onto what you had known all along.

And, god, how it stung to scroll through each one, but it was like you couldn’t look away, wondering with each username if he was enjoying all the new attention he was getting. You wondered how far he had leaned into this rockstar persona he had been dreaming of his whole life, if he snuck girls backstage and pocketed their bras as evidence of his conquests.

 I mean, the guy had gone damn near his entire life without so much as a second glance from any girl he’d come in contact with— except for you, of course, and you underestimated just how deep his loyalty ran and how much he remembered who it was that had been with him through it all.

So, to hell with every creatively intricate thirst comment under photos that even had you contemplating starting a burner account to appreciate with the masses, none of them mattered despite all the nights you’d spent chewing at your fingernails with thoughts of what he might be up to. Each fan account could burn in hell though—  because it was you he called as soon as he’d received the news that his band would be touring, opening for an indie band that you two had actually been fans of for quite some time. 

“I wanna fly you out.” Choso insisted breathlessly, still winded from the sheer velocity at which he raced for his phone upon hearing the news. It made your heart stutter, because it had been now going on three years since you last saw him, your schedules never having seemed to line up just right. There were a few times when you had contemplated flying out to surprise him at one of his local, bar shows, but with your building mountain of school work, you’d had little to no time to get a job that could afford you the extra change at the end of each month to buy a plane ticket. At your silence, he huffed, and you could practically hear that damned pout from over the phone. “C’mon, our birthday is coming up. We used to spend all our birthdays together.”

Smiling wistfully at the memories of how easy you two once had it, you shook your head. 

“Well that was before you became some heart-throb rock star, Cho.” You teased, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you wondered if he still blushed so easily at little comments like that, and, if so, what shade his cheeks were at the moment. 

“How am I supposed to be a rock star with no groupies? That’s just lame.” 

“Oh, trust me, I’m sure you have a long list of contenders waiting in line. Have you been checking your instagram comments lately?”

This made him pause, the tiniest of knowing smiles creeping onto his face. 

“No, but it sounds like you have.” 

For once, it was you flushing that burning shade of red that once graced his cheeks so frequently, and you wondered when he’d begun reciprocating your teasing banter instead of just stammering through his responses while trying not to look you in the eyes. Shaking his head with a nearly silent chuckle, he decided to put you out of your misery, clutching his phone tighter against his ears. 

“Let me fly you out, please? I know you’ve gotta break coming up. I wanna see you.” 

So just three months later, though truthfully it felt like a year as you and Choso counted down the days until you would see each other again, you were on a flight courtesy of his now modest earnings from his band. And sure, it was no fancy seat with the luxury accommodations he just knew you deserved, but he felt so proud to know that he was able to do something for you. He had been waiting at the airport nearly two hours before your flight was actually supposed to land, flowers clutched in his clammy hands as he checked the time repeatedly. 

Much to his frustration, your flight kept getting delayed, and, after the third push back, he had to begrudgingly resign himself to the fact that he wouldn’t get to be there when you landed, having to get back for sound check for the show tonight. After sending a long winded explanation text, he insisted that you text him as soon as you land as well as as soon as you got to the hotel and as soon as you made it to the venue, and— well, you got the point. 

With all the sudden delays, you only had time to drop your luggage off at the front desk of the hotel, who assured you they’d get it to your room for you before you had to haul ass to the venue before you missed any second of Choso’s band opening. He had given your name to security, who had your pass waiting for you when you arrived and quickly led you toward a less crowded section reserved for the talents’ guests. 

You were slightly winded from the nonstop moving you had been doing since you woke up this morning, but even with how spent you felt, you weren’t sure anything could have woken you up faster than the sight of your best friend on that stage after three years of not seeing him. Sure, the two of you had been keeping up with pictures and the occasional video call, but none of it did him justice— not with the way the boy you once knew had grown into such a… man.

The once lanky limbs that hung awkwardly at his sides had certainly filled out, emphasized nicely by the gaping muscle shirt he currently had on. His biceps flexed with each rip of his guitar as his grown out hair fell into his chiseled face. To your surprise, he had a mic situated in front of him and was occasionally offering back-up vocals that you were straining with everything in you to pinpoint amongst the rest of the music.

His eyes swept across the designated guest area, and you and your poor, weak heart nearly gave out upon realizing that he had begun lining them just as you did for him all those years ago, smudged out across his lids and adding a spine-tingling depth as they spotted you in the crowd. That earth-shattering smile lit up his face as he took in the sight of you looking up at him, because none of this success and fulfillment of lifelong dreams felt nearly as sweet without you being in the audience for him to impress.

Choso was breath-taking on that stage, commanding it with a confidence you had never seen on him before. It was a blur as the set went on, your shouting out the lyrics to the songs of theirs that you’d kept up with over the year, your already spent body expending the fumes of energy it had left to thrash around to the eardrum-crushing beat.

 You found yourself anxiously checking your phone when his band finished their set and disappeared backstage, not knowing if you were going to have to wait until the end of the show to see him. Thinking back to the phone conversation you two had had months prior, and how you really were starting to feel like his groupie. The thought made you smile in amusement, shoving your phone back into your pocket as the main band came out on stage. 

Your questions were answered just one song in when a pair of nearly steaming, sweat clung arms wrapped around your shoulders and chest from behind, squeezing you into an equally sweaty chest. 

“Ew, Cho, get off! You’re soaked!” You tried to sound disgusted, but your delighted laugh deceived you, because you were sure that he could have been covered head to toe in blood right now and you’d still allow him to latch onto you as he was doing so ardently.

“What happened to being my groupie?” He shouted over the blasting music, surprising you when his lips met your cheek in a sloppy kiss. Even he wasn’t sure where he’d worked up the gall to kiss you, but maybe it was the fact that he’d spent the last three years regretting his inaction, and he’d be damned if he was going to let you board that flight back home without at least trying. 

Hoping he didn’t see the way your cheeks flushed at the little stunt, you took note of the fact that he had yet to release you. 

“Your groupie is gonna need a few drinks if she has to deal with your stench for the next hour.”

In typical Choso fashion, he quickly obliged your request, planting yet another kiss against your temple before disappearing in the blur of security and venue workers to find you something to drink. You felt like your head was spinning with his sudden forward shift in behavior, but you chalked it up to the fact that you two hadn’t seen each other in so long.

 So, you didn’t question it when he came back with two vodka Red Bulls and continued to cling onto you the remainder of the show. He hoisted you up on his back when the crowd around you began to grow so you could get a better view of the band and didn’t care that you were screaming along to the songs right into his ear because you were finally here with him, and he could buy you drinks and give you front row seats to one of your favorite bands, and for once he thought that maybe he was brave enough to admit that he wanted something more with you after all these years of convincing himself that there was nothing he could offer you that’d be worth your while.

He was riding on the high of your giddy smile the entire taxi ride back to the hotel, unable to wipe that lovesick grin off of his face even when you asked him if there was something on your face that was warranting all the staring.

“I’m just gonna shower really quick, and then I’ll come to your room so we can order some food, ‘kay?” You explained while fishing out the room key that you’d received from the front desk earlier that day.

Choso’s brows furrowed as he pushed the respective button on the elevator and adjusted his guitar case over his shoulder. 

“What do you mean? We’re going to the same room.” 

Looking up from the inside of your bag, you stared at him with a slightly dumbfounded expression. 

“You only booked one room?” You questioned with a fluttering gaze. 

“We’ve always shared a room.” He explained obviously, making his way down the hall once the elevator doors opened. You could hardly argue with him on that logic, because you two had been sharing a room, hell— sharing a bed since you were kids. As you followed close behind him, butterflies churning in your stomach, you came to the conclusion that Choso had neglected to account for the fact that you two weren’t kids anymore.

Still, he had flown you all this way, and you had missed the endless nights you two would spend together watching horror movies until Jin would stumble into the room, exasperated as he asked you two to please turn down the volume or, better yet, watch anything else that didn’t have him jolting awake from the incessant sounds of blood-curdling screams emanating from his son’s room at ungodly hours of the night. Bonus points if you two had snuck Yuji in to watch them with you and had to shove him under the bed until their dad left the room lest he find out his youngest was watching movies far too mature for his age.

Yuji and Jin weren’t there to interrupt though, and you were currently hyping yourself up in the bathroom mirror to go out and spend the night with the man you’d known for fifteen years now. Looking down at yourself, you cursed at your choice of sleep wear that you’d clearly chosen before you knew Choso would be sleeping beside you. His old Metallica t-shirt had tiny holes in the shoulders and was discolored from so many years of wash cycles, but it was just so perfectly worn in, and it was a little reminder of him each time you went to sleep. 

The tattered hem fell just above your mid-thigh, and you were once again punching yourself in the leg because why would you not pack any pajama shorts? Pants? A longer shirt? Literally anything other than your fucking jeans that you’d rather bear the humiliation for than wear to bed? Huffing out a final sigh, you hung up your towel before exiting the steam-filled bathroom outwardly displaying far more confidence than was actually present in your muddled mind at the moment. 

“Shower’s open, Cho.” You informed with your eyes cast downward, shoving your dirty clothes into the respective section of your suitcase. 

He looked up from the room service menu he’d been studying for the past few minutes, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest at the sight of your bare thighs that still glistened from whatever lotion you had slathered on after your shower, and oh god was that his shirt? His brain was short-circuiting on the spot, and he was so grateful that he was jumping into the shower now, knowing that knob was about to be turned to the coldest setting he could manage. 

You sighed in quiet relief when the bathroom door shut behind him, thanking your lucky stars that he hadn’t mentioned anything about your choice of sleepwear— or lack thereof, hoping it meant that he didn’t notice.

 Finally allowing some of the tension to fall from your shoulders, you looked around the slightly bougie hotel room, smiling at the sight of his guitar leaning against the wall. Taking the opportunity to be a little nosy for nostalgia’s sake, you unzipped the case and carefully pulled the beloved instrument out. It was hardly recognizable now, what with all the decals and stickers he’d adorned it with over the years, but it was that same electric guitar you had scraped up all your tip money to buy for him.

Humming fondly, you sat crisscrossed in the middle of the plush bed to fiddle with the strings, recalling all the nights Choso had spent desperately trying to teach you how to play, but you never could make good on his diligent efforts. You could only vaguely recall the chords to that first song he’d ever learned to play, the one you’d watched him strum what must have been hundreds of times for you. Pursing your lip, you tried to angle your fingers just right along the neck as you dug into the far corners of your memory. 

“Your hand is too far up the neck.” 

In your fierce concentration, you hadn’t even heard Choso exiting the bathroom. Not looking up at him lest you break your focus, you shifted your hand as he’d instructed.

“Here?” 

He tutted softly, though you could practically hear the fond amusement oozing from him. After a moment, you felt the bed dip behind you, and your breath hitched as you felt his chest press against your back, and you suddenly didn’t feel as embarrassed at your lack of clothing since he hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on following his shower. His hands soon came up to close around yours, guiding them to the proper placement.

“Try now.” He instructed softly, tucking his chin over your shoulder to watch your movements. 

Trying to control the way your fingers trembled with the feeling of the muscles he never used to have pressed right up against you, you tried again. When he let out a quiet hum of disapproval, you didn’t have the chance to ask what you had done wrong before he was scooching you back to sit in his lap for better access to the instrument. 

“You’ve gotta spread out your fingers a little more.” Choso’s tips were falling on deaf ears, because his scent was enveloping you like a warm blanket, he was so warm pressed right up against you, and his cheek was brushing against yours as he adjusted your fingers. 

As he had been telling himself since he saw you in the audience earlier for the first time in three years, he wasn’t that awkward boy anymore who was too scared to be honest with himself, and he knew better than to believe that the flush in your cheeks right now was from your shower. Smiling softly, he eased up his hands as you began to get the hang of it, only occasionally reaching up to correct your placements. You gradually allowed yourself to relax against him, your shoulders drifting back to fall along his broad chest. 

“Do you ever think about that night of prom?” Out of all the ways he could have eased into this conversation, he wasn’t sure why that was what had come out of his mouth, but he was relieved when you scoffed out a light laugh. 

“You mean the night I lost my virginity to Suguru Geto?” You shook your head at the once damn near traumatic memory, a bitter smile gracing your lips. “I try not to.” 

It was silent for a moment, and just as he thought you had all but forgotten what you had said to him that night, you spoke up hesitantly.

“Do you? Y’know— think about it?”

“All the time.” 

Your fingers paused against the strings, but a hushed whisper in your ear to keep playing had you jolting back into action, but your subtle squirming against his lap gave you away. 

“Why the hell would you be thinking about that?” You mumbled, keeping your voice low as you desperately tried to maintain your composure.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about what would’ve happened if it was me instead.”

His hand came up to tighten your grip around the neck of the guitar that had loosened with the implications of his words, and you heard those familiar words falling from your lips just as they had from his three years ago. 

“You mean as my prom date, right, Cho?” 

His head shifted ever so slightly, and you shivered as his nose grazed against your temple. The hand that had been guiding your fingers over the strings drifted down to ghost over your bare thigh. 

“Yeah, as your prom date.” He lied, just as you had that night. The pads of his fingers dug into the fat of your thigh momentarily, giving you the opportunity to push him away should he have been reading all the signs wrong. You didn’t though, you only held back the softest of whimpers when the metaphorical green light prompted him to run his hand further up, brushing back your already maddeningly ridden up shirt. “I think about how much of an idiot he was, what I would’ve done different.” 

The way your comparably smaller frame was expanding and deflating against him in tandem with your labored breaths was making it hard for him to think, and he was sure his body was acting purely on autopilot. 

“Like what?” You dared to whisper, not even quite sure that you were ready to hear his answer, but oh was he willing to give it to you. 

“I would’ve told you how pretty you looked that night— because you did. You looked like an angel.” Choso rasped out against your ear, and his fingers were curling around the warmth of your inner thigh, just barely grazing against your rapidly heating core. Your fingers stuttered once again against the strings, and his other hand quickly came up to grip at the column of your neck, pressing you back against him. “Keep playing for me, angel.”

And you tried, hands trembling as they fumbled to find the right chords again. 

“Did he touch you like this before he ruined your night?”

“No!” You gasped out desperately, arching against him as he pushed your panties to the side to collect the pooling slick at your entrance, using it to aid in the tentative circles he began working against your clit. “H-He didn’t touch me at all— ah!”

With a vexed tut of disapproval, Choso’s fingers dipped down to plunge into your sopping heat. His movements were choppy, and it was clear that he wasn’t sure what exactly you would like, but his focused gaze on your side profile as he studied each of your reactions told you that he was going to figure it the fuck out.

“I would have taken the time for you— I would’ve made sure you were ready.” His regrets were spilling past his frantic lips in a manner teetering on a whine as your head fell back against his shoulder. “Keep playing.”

“I can’t— I can’t, Cho.” You cried deliriously as his fingers began curling up in response to your frantic reaction. You were soaking through the underwear that had been pushed haphazardly to the side, and if you were more lucid you would have been embarrassed at the way it pooled onto the sheets below you. 

At once, he had released the firm grip he had on your neck to push his guitar off the bed. 

“Then come up here and let me show you how I would have taken care of you.”

Choso, with his eagerness to please and this newfound Herculean strength of his, didn’t give you the chance to comply with his request, because he was ripping at your flimsy underwear and shifting you around to face him. It was enough to give you whiplash, but the bruising grip he had around your waist assured that your balance wouldn’t fail you as he laid back against the unsuspecting hotel sheets and yanked you up to hover over his crazed face. 

“Choso, y-you don’t have to—” 

“I want to.” He pleaded, his lips glistening with an anticipatory drool as those puppy-dog eyes of his locked onto your core, and he was once again reminded of the fact that Suguru Geto had to be the dumbest man on this fucking planet. Craning his neck up, he couldn’t help himself as he dragged his hot tongue up the length of your folds, his strangled moan vibrating against you. “Mmph, sit— please.”

Leave it to Choso to not forget about his manners as he begged you to suffocate him between your trembling thighs. You complied, moving ever-so-slowly to lower yourself against him before he dug his fingers into your thighs and made you sit. Hunching forward, your forehead fell against the plush headboard with a choked cry as he all but unhinged his jaw around your core. 

He watched through dazed eyes at the way your face crumpled with each symphony of pleasure that slipped past your bitten lips. There was no sense in dwelling on the past now, but he couldn’t help but feel so utterly idiotic for having been so blind all this time. It had always been there— in the lingering touches and the intimacy of trust that had forged between you two over fifteen years of falling back on one another.

Choso’s eyes rolled back as you rolled your hips against his tongue, momentarily blocking any passage of air through his mouth and nose, but, even with the clenching in his lungs that told him that he needed to breathe paired with the ringing in his ears, he thought he’d much rather have your weeping pleasure as the cause of death on his obituary, because any life where he hindered that impending high you were cravenly grinding toward wasn’t a life worth living.

His tongue dipped into your entrance for an exasperatingly brief tour before its pointed tip was dancing up to swoop under the hood of your already painfully sensitive clit. You squeaked out a pitched moan, nearly tumbling down if one of his hands hadn’t shot up to press against your sternum to keep you upright. A choked sob of pleasure shook your shoulders, and your hand flew down to tangle into the very haircut he maintained for so long just because you said it looked cute on him.

There was a sharp sting on his scalp as you yanked at the roots, the subtle pain at the hands of you nearly sending him to an early grave as his hips bucked up against the air. He was only met by the infuriatingly gentle friction of his sweatpants brushing against his leaking tip, but you were crying out his name and using him so sweetly with every craven thrust of your hips, and it was enough for him after all the sleepless nights he’d spent wishing he could have changed the past. 

Evidence of you was dripping grotesquely down his face, dragging as far up as his nose that glistened proudly in the wake of your sloppy thrusts against him. His eyes were barely open by the time you timidly glanced down at him, half-lidded to match the dopey smile you felt morphing against your folds. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” You murmured through burning cheeks as he leaned you back to sit on his chest. 

“I’ve waited fifteen years to look at you like this.” His words were damn near slurred, but the sentiment remained the same. Brushing the dishevled hair from his forehead, you slid down slowly to straddle his waist, gasping tenderly at the feeling of his abs brushing against your sensitive clit, though your eyes never once left his. 

With wanton eyes drifting down his pink-tinted face, his eyes drifted shut as he leaned up to meet the kiss he was sure he was finally about to get, but it instead landed tenderly on his forehead. A warmth spread down his spine, making his fingers curl tighter around your waist. 

“Put me out of my misery already.” Choso whispered, but his actions deceived him as he reached up to keep you pressed against his forehead. Just as you slipped out of his grasp, lips dragging down the bridge of his nose until they ghosted over his. With a clouded gaze, he whispered against your lips, “Did he tell you he loved you?”

With a delirious shake of your head, you crashed through the tiniest of barriers that had been left between you.  

“I love you.” He mumbled desperately against your kiss, hands sneaking up under your baggy shirt to graze along your spine. “More than just a— ah— a prom date. I love you.”

“I love you, too— more than just a friend.” You confirmed as you snuck your hand down between you to creep into his waistband. 

He flinched away from you with a quick, hissing breath, reaching down to grip at your hand in record timing. Pulling away from him with a start, you blinked down owlishly at him. 

“Oh— I-I’m sorry, I just thought you wanted to…”

“I do!” He sat up faster than you could blink to miss it. With that signature flush of his cheeks, he cast his gaze to the side. “Just… give me a little bit, okay?”

Raising a brow at his sudden timidness, you decided not to make it known that you had already felt the tacky wet splotch currently making a mess of his sweatpants. Saving him the wallowing self-pity you just knew he’d fall into for the rest of the night, you opted to lay beside him, tracing the tattoo that lined his nose absentmindedly as he looked anywhere but you. With a soft laugh, he finally turned his head to face you again after a moment of silence, smiling sheepishly down at you. 

“Happy birthday, angel.”

Glancing over at the bedside clock, you noted with a cacooning warmth that it read 12:02 AM.

“Happy birthday, Cho.”

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[lqveharrington]

hii, i would love for you to do ‘the prophecy’ with fred weasley and ravenclaw reader!! thank you so much 💓

The Prophecy | F.W.

summary: fred’s starting to feel insecure in your relationship, and trelawney’s reading doesn’t make it any better.

pairing: fred weasley x ravenclaw!reader

includes: use of Y/N, insecure fred, a lot of overthinking, angst, fluff at the end

a/n: for some reason, this prompt stumped me so bad. so sorry if it’s not up to the usual standards 😭

One, two. One, two, three, four.

You impatiently counted how many times the alarm on Trelawney’s stupid clock would go off until she realized it wasn’t a crystal ball predicting a Hufflepuff's future. All you wanted was class to be over and be in the arms of your loving boyfriend, but they changed the house pairings for electives. Instead of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, it was Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Luckily, you still had all your core classes with Gryffindor.

As you lazily blew on the small braid you gave yourself in your boredom, a crack of lightning struck right outside, causing Trelawney to jerk in surprise with horror etched into her face. It looked like she had just seen the grim itself.

She whipped her head around and looked directly at you, taking your hands in her shaky ones. She read your palm like the lines had magically changed since last class, muttering quietly to herself until cleared your throat in confusion.

“My dear, you will receive ill-advised news by the end of the week.” She whispered and pulled your hand closer to her buggy eyes, furrowing her brows when she saw your life line. “Expect your spirit to be broken and rebuilt by the one you trust the most.”

Your lips kissed you teeth in an unsettling manner. Was this your punishment for not listening to her and sometimes making fun of her? Did she want to make you feel bad about your life choices? Sure you bored out of your mind in class but that didn't mean you wanted a horrid reading.

Your eyes flickered toward the dark sky outside again, watching as the lightening struck louder than the last. Trelawney sighed and patted your hand shut, dismissing everyone with a quiet wave. Everyone looked at her in bewilderment before slowly leaving the tower, murmuring amongst themselves.

Furrowing your brows and flexing your hand, you took your things and hastily made your way down the ladder, narrowly avoiding your face splattering on the stone floor. You always believed in everything factual — Ravenclaw, through and through — and you weren't actually sure why you chose Divination as your elective. The crystal balls and tea leaf readings never seemed credible, always predicting the same things over and over again.

However, the Weasley Twins loved Divination. They often made up their readings and passed with Outstandings. George believed he had a natural aptitude for the class whilst Fred said he had unlocked his inner eye. But what they both heavily believed in was Trelawney's words — which you thought was utter rubbish.

When you had Divination with them in sixth year, she told them that they would encounter a horrible noise, sending someone they love plummeting. That same week, Harry retreived his golden egg from the first task and revealed it to be screeching merpeople in the common room, causing the twins to drop him from their shoulders to cover their ears. From that day onward, they clung onto her every word like it was the sacred truth.

Which it wasn't.

Shaking all thoughts of Divination out of your mind, you made your down to the Great Hall. It was your potions study hall with the rest of the sixth years, and you needed time to decompress after whatever stupid prophecy Trelawney read off you.

You scanned the hall and smiled when you saw the twins, Lee, Alicia, and Angelina already working on their forty-inch essay for potions. Well, the girls were working on their essays. The twins and Lee were playing Exploding Snap — although they weren't very subtle with it.

The look on your face meant nothing but trouble. You shook your head and messed with them, putting your hands on the twins' shoulders and holding back a laugh when you saw them jump and pretend to work on their essays. Lee looked up at you and shook his head in amusement, nudging the two Weasleys to look behind them.

George was the first to turn and rolled his eyes when he saw you, scooting over so you could sit in between him and Fred. He took your bag and put it beside his on the ground, still grumbling under his breath.

"Blimey, Y/N. I thought Snape was going to take points off and give us detention again." George nudged your side with his elbow, ruffling your hair in the process.

"Again? What did you lot do in the few minutes it took for me to get here?" You tease and tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, grabbing your own parchment out with only ten-inches left for your essay.

You quietly worked on your essay while ensuring the mischievous trio stayed on task, every so often glancing up to make sure they were doing anything stupid. As you wrapped up your essay, you looked up to your right and met Fred's eyes. You gave him a soft smile but only earned a half-hearted, tight-lipped nod back.

Parchment crinkled under your hold before you released a breath. You pursed your lips and went back to your essay, forcing back the tears of frustration from spilling out. For the past two weeks, Fred began to grow more and more distant from you. You weren't sure what exactly prompted him to do so, but he wouldn't give you an answer and the rest of your friends... Well, they didn't know if you wanted to know from them.

You felt like you were slowly sinking further away from him and you couldn't do anything. Biting your tongue to stop anymore thoughts, you turned in your essay to Snape and swiftly left the Great Hall with no spare glances toward the Gryffindors.

The states of pity from your friends only made you feel like you were crumbling into forever broken pieces.

You sat with your back against a great oak, throwing another stone into the Black Lake. The ripples echoed and repeated until they settled, the small bubbles diminished.

The rays of the sun hit your eyes, causing you to wince softly. You turned to the side and fully expected Fred to be sitting next to you, a small frown etching its way to your lips when you saw nothing but the Hogwarts castle.

Fred usually came with you whenever you needed to relax, but thinking about the past few weeks only hurt your heart.

As the whispers from the Forbidden forest grew stronger and the sun slowly descended behind the trees, you shut your eyes and leaned your head against the tree. You wished you didn’t have to leave your spot; you were only just beginning to clear your mind.

Frustratedly, you rub your closed eyes with the palms of your hands, freezing when someone spoke from behind you. That someone having an all too familiar voice.

"Love, you're going to irritate your eyes."

Your head whipped around to stare at the boy you fell deeply in love with last year at the Yule Ball. The glare you threw at him could’ve petrified him. "You have no right to call me love after ignoring me for two — almost three — weeks.”

Fred swallowed thickly and sat on a boulder beside you. He knew he was in the wrong for avoiding you for so long without telling you the truth. He believed that it was better for you not to know, but what good was it in the long run?

"I know, I'm sorry." He mumbled and bit his lip, looking down at his tattered shoes rather than meeting your eyes. "It's okay if you never want to see me ever again or choose to hate me, but I avoided you because — " He paused and squeezed his eyes shut. Godric, he was going to sound like such a stupid prick. "Because of a prophecy Trelawney gave me."

Your mouth parted ever so slightly before you threw a small rocks at his legs. Your voice rang out clear and loud, reminding him of his own mother. "Are you kidding me? Frederick Gideon Weasley! You've been avoiding me because of a stupid reading?”

"I'm sorry! But what she said about me made it seem like you needed someone better!" He let your rocks hit him and huffed, frustration bubbling within himself. He took in a breath before looking back over at you. "She told me that the something I love will succeed but only if a great weight of unstableness no longer burdened it."

You crease your brows in confusion and drop the rest of your rocks onto the ground, shaking your head as he clenched and unclenched his fist. "What are you talking about?"

"Love, you're bloody brilliant." Fred met your eyes for the first time in days. All he wanted to do was have you in his arms again and press kisses everywhere he could, but he still owed an explanation to you. "You've passed all your OWLs with flying colors and you've studied so hard for you NEWTs." He buried his face in his hands and sighed. "I'm the burden that will hold you back if you choose to stay with me."

Your initial annoyance and anger melted away at his words, eyes softening at the sight of his dejected state. "Freddie, you're not a burden to me or anyone — “

He let out a laugh that sounded more like a scoff. "I have no money. When you need support, you wouldn't get any from me. I'm not good enough for you."

Five seconds of utter silence took over. The fluttering of the owls delivering mail overhead and the sounds of the curfew bell were the only things that were heard.

Before Fred could even register what was happening, you flung yourself into his arms and rested your head on his. He froze before wrapping his arms around your midsection, burying himself into your chest. He breathed in your scent, body releasing all the tension he had stored inside.

This wasn’t the first time Fred has ever felt insecure about your relationship. There had been other times where he felt like he wasn’t good enough for you, but you were always there to reassure him whenever he voiced them to you. It was horrible to see him act like someone other than his usual self. You loved who he was and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Freddie…” You rub his back gently and feel him melt into you. “I don't need any money. Your words are enough support for me.”

He only nodded in response, missing your touch after days of avoidance. Fred felt your move around so you were sitting beside him, your hands moving to turn his head toward you.

You smiled at him and thumbed his cheeks. "And didn't I tell you not to believe everything Trelawney says? I doubt she was taking about our relationship." You pressed a light kiss to his lips before pulling him into another hug, "I love you, Freddie. Don't ever forget that."

When he didn’t say anything, you pulled away and looked over his features, brows furrowing as you saw his teary eyes.

"Fred —?”

"I love you so much, woman." He murmured before capturing your lips in a mind-searing manner, feeling you smile into the kiss. Fred pulled away for a breath before placing another tender kiss to your lips, thumbing the bottom lip when you pulled away in a daze. "You're my soulmate."

You grin shyly and lean your head on his shoulder, looking up at him. "No more overthinking, okay?" You watched as he nodded at you, his face flushing a deep shade of red when you began to pepper kisses on his neck. Each kiss meaning the same thing.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Fred took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles, chuckling when you got flustered over a simply gesture. "You might make me fall even deeper in love with you."

You hummed and pressed one last kiss to his lips, both of you grinning like idiots in love. "Have I changed the prophecy yet?"

"Hm, you'll have to let me check again." He said softly and gave you one final breathtaking kiss, squeezing your hip. "I think so."

"I love you, Fred Weasley." You sigh happily and kiss his cheek. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[mochacoda]

[teaser] too nice | hjs

Pairing: Hong Joshua x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Joshua Hong is nice. Too nice. He’s the kind of nice that makes people think twice about their relationship to him, wondering if they might be special. The answer is, no. Problem is, he's your coworker and your neighbor.

Content: Fluff | Coworkers to Lovers, Neighbors to Lovers | Office AU

Tags: slightly insecure reader, totally inspired by the Youngji chocolate milk grandchildren interview, lots of elevators, lots of tension, a bit of drinking, mutual pining, "sweetheart" as a petname, gentleman agenda indeed, except he goes a bit mad at the end, seungkwan is a comedic genius, woozi is the wingman of the year, konglish w/ context clues, reader is scared of loud noises, no "y/n"

Word Count: 9.9K

Full Version: January 8 -> RELEASED HERE

Monday

Joshua Hong is nice. Really nice. He opens the door for you every morning walking into work. He insists that he carries heavy file boxes from your boss’ office to your desk. He buys you coffee from the cafe down the street, knowing that the instant machine is almost always broken. Whenever he passes you in the hallway, he always smiles and mouths “fighting!” He notices when your enthusiastic mask slips and your tiredness peaks through. He tells you not to work so hard, and asks if you’ve been sleeping well. 

He’s the kind of nice that makes people think twice about their relationship to him, wondering if they might be special. 

But the answer is, no. 

“He’s just like that. He’s nice to everyone. Get a grip.”

You sigh, staring at your reflection in the mirror hanging above your vanity. You’ve been absentmindedly rubbing moisturizer on your cheeks for the last three minutes, at least, thinking about your coworker. How have you gotten to the point of talking to yourself in attempts to rationalize the thoughts of him clouding your mind?

All of a sudden, your alarm rings. You jolt upright, reminded that you have to leave your tiny apartment and head over to your equally small office cubicle. 

You quickly stand up from your vanity chair, then walk over to your closet to grab a jacket. Relying on muscle memory, your hand moves toward the hook it always lies on, only to swipe at air. 

The one and only winter coat you own isn’t there. 

You groan, remembering that you’d put it in the laundry bin after staining it with beer over the weekend, at that disastrous company “bonding” event. You look down at the taupe sweater you’re wearing, pinching the material to guess if it’d be warm enough. It’s barely a centimeter of fabric. 

Glancing at the time on your phone, you decide that the thin sweater would just have to do. 

You turn back to the mirror to do one last check of your appearance, when something catches your eye. Sitting on your bedside table is the plushie Joshua had won for you at the arcade. The bunny stares back at you innocently. You’d placed it there last night before crashing out on your bed, fatigued from the chaos of the company outing—or, more specifically, the secondhand embarrassment recalling your attempts at trying to be normal around Joshua.  

You shake your head roughly. You could cringe at yourself on the way to work. Grabbing your work bag and shoving your shoes on, you rush over to the door. 

Squaring your shoulders, you open it and walk out. And for a moment, as you’re turning your key to lock the door, you think that you’ll be alone for the commute to work for once. 

But then you hear a familiar voice.

“Good morning!” 

You tense, heart beginning to race, then turn around with a weak smile.

“Hi, Joshua.” 

Somehow, you’re not only coworkers with your crush, but also next door neighbors. 

“Hey,” he says, then takes a sharp breath. “It’s pretty cold today. Is that sweater going to be warm enough?”

“I’ll be fine,” you say, avoiding eye contact as you drop your keys into your bag. “It can’t be that cold.” 

You adjust the bag strap on your shoulder and walk toward the elevator on your floor, pressing the down button. It immediately opens.

“You sure?” 

You nod as the two of you walk inside the elevator. 

Hoping he’ll stop pushing you on your lack of a coat, you ask, “Did you look into the McKinley and Lee file yet?”

“Come on, it’s not even 9am and you’re already attacking me with work!” Joshua dramatically clutches his chest, then lightly punches your arm. “What’d we say about 워라밸, huh?”

You feel your face getting hot, your right hand reflexively going up to where he’d touched your left arm. Was it always this toasty in the elevator?

Meeting his eyes for the first time today, you say, “Yeah, yeah, work-life balance. You’re right.”

His lips turn up and his eyes crinkle into bright crescent moons. You find yourself smiling back at him, despite having tried so hard to avoid his stupidly sweet gaze.  

“I’m just teasin’, you know?” he says, leaning casually against the steel walls of the small elevator.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble again, rubbing the handle of your bag and tapping your foot to give yourself something else to focus on, suddenly aware that the two of you were alone. 

God, could the elevator move any slower? Fidgeting with the loose threads of your sweater, you were on the verge of melting from being near his vicinity for so long. 

Ever since Joshua Hong had arrived two months ago as a transfer from the Seoul branch, you haven’t gone a day without running into him. It was HR’s fault, really. The Human Resources department had placed him in yours, and also gave him the company-funded apartment next door to you. 

He’d spent so much time around you that, if you didn’t see the people who regularly flocked to him, you’d think you were his only friend in the States. It was, and still is, ridiculous. His constant presence has meant that you are constantly aware of yourself. Of how you’re breathing too loud, and how your heart is beating too fast, and how you were in too much of a rush to do your hair and makeup this morning. He makes you care more than usual about how well you perform at work, and, worse, he makes you think about how happy and funny you appear to be. 

The way he teases you for being nervous (although that’s only because he’s around practically all the time) and the way he always notices when you aren’t feeling well—it’s as if he sees right through you. Yes, he sees right through you, and it’s incredibly scary knowing he could confront you at any time—maybe even in this elevator—and say that he’s known all along that you’ve had feelings for him. And what’s worse is that you know he’d be polite with his rejection. He’d be a gentleman, carefully letting you down with—

“Hello? Hellooo?” Joshua says, waving his hand in front of your face.

You jump, blinking rapidly. “Huh? Sorry, what?”

“We’re here, sweetheart,” he says gently.

“Oh,” you reply lamely. 

He gestures with his hand for you to walk out of the elevator first. Inside the lobby, he walks by your side. As the two of you approach the door, he reaches it first, and opens it for you to head outside. 

You’re immediately hit with a blast of winter and harsh winds. Your arms instinctively tighten around your stomach, trying to prevent the cold air from rushing up your sweater. 

Joshua turns to you, brows furrowed. His eyes glance over your sweater again, and you can tell he’s about to say something. Certain it’s an I told you so, you quickly say, “Before you start, I’m fine. It’s really not that cold, and the bus is coming soon anyway.”

You march forward toward the crosswalk before the bus stop, knowing he’s following behind you. Once you reach the start of the white lines, you slow down to a stop, waiting for the signal to change. 

Still behind you, Joshua says, “거기 있어봐.” 

“왜?” Though confused, you listen to his request to stay where you are. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, feeling somewhat awkward just standing with your back turned to him. 

He doesn’t answer your question why, but you hear a shuffle and the sound of fabric rustling. Then you feel a warm coat draped over your shoulders. 

You turn back to face Joshua with a start, opening your mouth to protest.

But before you can get a word out, he takes his pointer finger and lightly presses it against your lips. 

“Shh,” he says with a smile. “Tomorrow, wear a jacket, okay?” He pats the top of your head. 

Speechless, you barely bring yourself to nod, then remember to shut your jaw. Let’s just survive this bus ride, you tell yourself. God, it was unfair how nice he was. It only made it harder for you to believe he was like this with everyone—or to stop hoping that, somehow, you might be the exception. 

hi hoped u liked it :) full version RELEASED HERE

[trrsseea]

The Choices We Make

pairing: Bucky x reader

warning: non

Bucky sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his vibranium hand. The dog tags around his neck clinked softly as he shifted, the sound somehow heavier than usual. Y/n was in the kitchen, humming to herself as she made breakfast, blissfully unaware of the war raging in his mind.

It wasn’t her fault. She was perfect—kind, smart, patient, everything he didn’t think he deserved. But that was the problem. Wasn’t it? She deserved someone who fit into her world. Someone who understood memes without needing them explained. Who didn’t get overwhelmed by crowds or who could actually laugh along with her friends instead of feeling like an outsider in their world. He didn’t belong here. Not at this time. Not with her.

Y/n walked in her hair slightly mussed from the morning, wearing one of my old shirts. She was holding a tray balanced carefully in her hands, carrying a breakfast, golden French toast and two steaming mugs. I assumed one was tea for her and the other, black coffee for me. Her face lit up with her usual radiant smile, a look so serene and angelic that she seemed almost otherworldly.

She smiled even brighter, which I didn’t think was possible as she handed me a mug. “Morning, sleepyhead.” I looked up and took the coffee, but the warmth of the mug did little to ease the cold feeling in my chest.

“Y/n, we need to talk,” I said, my voice low but steady.

She frowned, placing her mug on the table with a soft clink. “That sounds ominous,” she said, followed by a light giggle, unaware of just how right she was.

I took a deep breath, staring into the dark liquid swirling in the mug I held tightly. “I’ve been thinking… maybe this isn’t working.”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” At first, she didn’t understand, but then she realised it.

“We’re fine. Aren’t we?” she asked, her frown deepening as her eyes searched mine.

I shook my head, unable to meet her eyes. “You deserve someone… normal. Someone who understands your world, your jokes, your friends. Someone who isn’t stuck in the past.”

“Bucky,” she said softly, sitting beside me. “Where is this coming from? Did something happen?” She sounds worried and places her hand gently on my knee, her thumb moving in slow, soothing circles.

“It’s not one thing,” I admitted, setting the coffee down. “It’s everything. You’re young, Y/n. You have your whole life ahead of you. And I’m… I’m old. I’ve lived through things you can’t even imagine. And sometimes, I feel like I’m dragging you into my mess.”

She stops the movement of her hand “That’s not how I see it,” she said firmly.

“I know,” I said, finally meeting her gaze. “But it’s how I feel. And I don’t think it’s fair to you. You could be with someone who doesn’t come with all this… baggage.” I gesture to myself.

She stared at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she stood up, crossing her arms. “Okay, let’s break this down. First of all, yes, you’re older. But that doesn’t mean we don’t understand each other. And you’re not the only one who has been through tough things. Everyone has baggage, Bucky.” She says firmly not letting her shields down.

“It’s not the same,” I argued.

“I’m not saying it’s the same baggage,” she countered, her voice steady, “but we all have something we fight.”

“No, it’s not,” she admitted, her tone softening. “But it doesn’t have to be. We don’t have to be the same to make this work.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Y/n, you’re too good for this. For me.”

She let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “You don’t get to decide that for me. I knew who you were when we started this, Bucky. I chose this. I chose you. And yeah, it’s not always easy, but what relationship is?” She smiled slightly at me.

I looked up at her, the walls I’d been building around myself starting to crack. “What if I can’t give you what you need? What if—”

“Stop,” she interrupted, sitting back down beside him. “What I need is you. Flaws, baggage, your dad jokes, and all of you. You don’t have to have everything figured out, Bucky. We can figure it out together.”

I was silent for a long moment, the weight of her words sinking in. “What if I can’t be enough?”

She moved to sit on top of me, each leg on one side, and placed her hands on my cheeks, her gaze locking onto mine. “Then we deal with it. Together. But you don’t get to push me away because you’re scared. That’s not fair to me.”

I stared at her, my throat tight. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Maybe not,” she said with a small smile. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulled her close, and buried my face against her, inhaling her familiar scent. She responded by wrapping her arms around me, holding me just as tightly.

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “You’re stubborn.”

“That’s why you like me,” she whispered into my ear brushing her lips softly against it.

Without thinking, I lifted my head closing the distance between us, and pressed my lips softly against hers. The kiss was tender, lingering for a moment as if we both needed the reassurance.

And for the first time in weeks. I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe we could make this work Maybe I didn’t have to do this alone.

[gerlionrise]

A Game Within the Game P3

Hwang In-ho (player 001) x reader Synopsis: In-ho heals your wound, tells the truth, and tries to make you completely his own. This is part 3. Part 2 is here.

You woke up in a bed. It was soft, far too soft, and for a moment, you thought you were still dreaming. The room was dimly lit, a warm glow from a single bedside lamp casting long shadows across the luxurious furniture. The sheets were crisp and expensive, the kind you’d only ever seen in catalogues or movies. Your body ached—sharp pain lancing through your side as you tried to sit up. You froze, memories flooding back. The games. The chaos. The sound of the gunshot.

Your breath quickened as panic clawed at your throat. This wasn’t the dorm, wasn’t the arena, and certainly wasn’t anywhere you recognized. Where were you? Were you dead? 

The door creaked open. 

You turned sharply, your muscles protesting the sudden movement. There he was—001. But he looked different. This man stood tall, composed, and sharp, dressed in simple black sweatpants and a fitted T-shirt that highlighted a lean strength you hadn’t noticed before. His face was calm, but his eyes… they were heavier now, like they carried the weight of a thousand secrets. 

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice gentle but unsettlingly firm. He stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him.

“What is this? Where am I?” Your voice came out shaky, trembling with a mixture of fear and confusion. 

“You won,” he replied, walking closer.

His words landed like a punch to the gut. You blinked, your mind scrambling to piece everything together. “What do you mean I won? What happened? Where—where is everyone else?”

“They’re gone,” he said simply, standing at the foot of the bed now. “It’s over. The games are finished.”

Your stomach twisted. “The last thing I remember—there was a mistake. I made a mistake. I should be dead.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “No,” he said quietly. “You shouldn’t.”

“What does that mean?” You sat up fully now, ignoring the sharp protest of your body. “You’re not making any sense.”

He sighed, his calm demeanor slipping for just a moment. He looked almost… tired. “I need you to know something,” he said, more to himself than to you. 

“I need to know what?” Your voice rose, cracking with desperation. 

He hesitated, just for a moment, before meeting your gaze head-on. “My name is Hwang In-ho,” he said, his tone steady. “I’m not just Player 001. I’m the Frontman, the Host of these games, of all of this,” he said pointing his finger around, hinting that we were still in the territory where the games take place.

The words didn’t register at first. They hung in the air, heavy and incomprehensible. “What?” you whispered, shaking your head. “What are you talking about? Are you joking with me?”

“I’m not,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “I’ve been the host of these games for years. I was there before you ever signed up.” 

Your blood ran cold. “This is mad,” you said, your voice trembling. “No, that’s not possible. You were with us. You were in the games. You—”

“I joined the games for you after the first game,” he interrupted, his tone sharp now, cutting through your denial. “You were the reason I entered.”

The room spun around you. “You’re lying,” you said again, but the conviction in your voice was gone. 

“I’m not,” he repeated. “I made sure you survived. Every step of the way, I was there. Guiding you. Protecting you.”

“Protecting me?” you repeated, your voice rising in disbelief. “You killed people! You let them die!”

“It’s my job.” His voice was cold now, his eyes narrowing. “Just like yours was to play the games.” The anger burned through your veins, hot and undeniable. You forced yourself to your feet, ignoring the stabbing pain in your side. Before he could react, you raised your hand and slapped him, hard. The sharp sound echoed through the room, and for a brief moment, his head tilted slightly to the side, his cheek reddening. 

Hwang In-ho didn’t retaliate. He didn’t flinch. He only sighed, meeting your gaze with calm, unshaken patience. 

“You’re a murderer, a fucking psychopath” you spat, your voice trembling with rage. “You lied to me. You used me.”

“I didn’t use you,” he replied evenly, his tone quiet but firm. “You chose this.”

“Chose this?” You laughed bitterly, gesturing wildly at the room, at him. “I didn’t choose to trust a monster! I trusted you. I cried into your shoulder, told you how scared I was, and you—” Your voice cracked as the tears you’d been holding back threatened to spill. “You were the reason for it all.”

“I won’t apologize,” he said, his voice unwavering. 

“You’re unbelievable,” you hissed, stepping back as though the distance could somehow dull the betrayal you felt. 

“I understand why you’re angry,” he said, his posture as calm as always, “And I expected this. I knew you wouldn’t take the truth easily, but I didn’t want to hurt you. That was never my intention.”

“Then what was your intention, In-ho?” you demanded. “Why let me go through all of this? I saw good people, people I liked, get killed!”

“To keep you alive,” he said simply. “To make sure you won.”

You shook your head, disbelief twisting in your chest. “And what now? What happens now? I'm sure I'm here for a reason right now, am I?”

He took a step closer, his voice softening. “I want you to do more than just take your winnings. I want you to stay here.”

You blinked, stunned into silence for a moment. “What?” 

“I want you to become a co-host of these games” he said, his tone steady. “To work with me. To help run the games.”

Your stomach churned. “You want me to help you kill people?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped even closer, his expression unreadable. “You’ve seen it for yourself,” he said cupping your cheek with his hand. “How people turn on each other. How they’re willing to destroy one another for money. You’ve seen how disgusting humanity can be. You’ve felt it.”

You opened your mouth to argue but faltered. His words hit a nerve. The memories of what you’d witnessed—of the desperation, the betrayal, the violence—flashed in your mind, unbidden. 

“I’m not like you,” you said quietly, moving away from him.

 “No,” his gaze steady. “No, you’re not,” he left something unsaid.

“I didn’t ask for this,” you whispered. 

“But you stayed. You fought. And now, you’ve won.”

You stared at him, your anger faltering as his words sank in. 

“You don’t have to decide now,” he said after a moment, his tone softening again. “You’re hurt. You need time to recover. And while you’re here, you’ll have plenty of time to think. You’ll see for yourself that there’s nothing for you out there.”

“There’s no point in going back?” you said bitterly, repeating his words.

“You know it’s true,” he replied. “You told me that yourself one night — you had nothing. No one. That’s why you joined the games in the first place. Out of boredom, out of hopelessness.” 

You flinched, the truth of his words hitting harder than you wanted to admit. 

“Stay,” he said softly, stepping closer yet again. “Stay, and I’ll show you that you don’t need to go back. You have everything you need here.”

Tears stung your eyes as the weight of his words crushed down on you. “Why?” you choked out. “Why would you do this? Why would you let me go through all of that? Why did you let me live?”

His expression softening. “You remind me of someone,” he said quietly.

You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. "You’re delusional if you think I’m that person." 

He didn’t say anything to this. 

Finally, you mustered the strength to ask the question that had been burning in your mind. “Why did the guard shoot me? You said you were protecting me. Then why they shoot me?”

His expression hardened for a brief moment, but then he sighed. “It doesn’t matter now,” he said. “It’s been handled. Now rest,” he turned around to leave the room

You stared at him leaving, a storm of emotions swirling inside you. The room was silent, heavy with everything left unsaid.

—

For the next two days, you didn’t see Hwang In-ho at all. The only people you encountered were the silent guards in their oppressive pink uniforms, coming in at scheduled intervals to check on your recovery or patch you up when necessary. Each time they entered the room, you felt a wave of panic, memories of the last game rushing back—how one of them had pointed a gun at you and shot. 

You tried asking them questions, trying to understand what their purpose was, why they were here, and how they could participate in something so monstrous. But their silence was infuriating. They didn’t answer, didn’t even acknowledge your words. It was as though you were speaking to statues. 

In the meantime, you explored the space where you were being kept. It looked like an apartment, sprawling yet suffocating, with no windows. The walls were sleek and minimalist, the furnishings modern and expensive. It felt more like a gilded cage than a refuge.

Every day, fresh clothes were brought to you. You could tell they were expensive, tailored to your size and style, but you didn’t care for most of them. You stuck to a simple outfit: black shorts that hugged your legs comfortably and a matching black V-neck top. It was practical and unassuming, the only semblance of normalcy in this surreal situation.

You asked the guards repeatedly where In-ho was. “Where is your host? Where is he hiding?” you’d say. The only response you got was the vague assurance that he had “things to do.”  

“Things to do? For days?” you muttered angrily, frustrated by their cryptic responses and his absence. You couldn’t understand why he would leave you alone here.

---

On the third day after you had been shot, you found yourself in the kitchen. It was like the rest of the apartment—sleek black counters, matte surfaces, and every kind of appliance imaginable. You busied yourself by rummaging through the cabinets, not because you were hungry, but because it gave you something to do. 

Then, the door opened, and In-ho walked in. 

He was dressed casually, in black slacks and a fitted black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His presence filled the room instantly, his calm yet commanding energy unsettling you. He glanced at you briefly before walking to the counter. 

“Where have you been?” you asked, your voice sharper than intended. 

“I was finishing up the games,” he replied without emotion, opening the refrigerator to pull out a bottle.

“Getting rid of the bodies?” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he busied himself preparing a drink, the soft clink of ice breaking the tension in the air. You could feel his quiet disapproval of your tone, but it only fueled your frustration. 

You hopped onto the countertop, as you watched him. If he wanted to act nonchalant, you would make it harder for him. 

“How did you become the host?” you asked, tilting your head. “Do you enjoy this? Watching people die for your amusement?” 

His answers were dry, measured. “I have my reasons,” he said simply. “It’s necessary.”

“So, what do you do when you're not running murder games? Read? Knit? Take long walks around your crime scenes?" 

"I manage... everything. It’s not all death and drama, you know."

"Oh, sure. Just a side hustle of ruining lives." 

He smiled a little and glanced at you, “You’re quite good at sarcasm." 

You didn't answer him and continued your interrogation. "Why black? Is it just your vibe, or are you secretly colorblind?"

"Black is practical. It hides blood,” he replied by taking the ice out of the mold.

"Romantic. You ever think of wearing pink? Really lean into the theme here."

Now he chuckled, “I think I’ll leave pink to the guards."

Finally you asked, “When can I go home?” 

He glanced up at you briefly before returning to his drink. “When you’re ready.”

"What do you even want from me? Besides… whatever this ‘partner’ thing is."

His gaze flickered to you again, lingering this time. You noticed the way his eyes traveled down, taking in your posture, the curve of your body in the simple outfit you had chosen. There was something unreadable in his expression—calculated, yet almost… appreciative. 

"I want you to see what I see. To understand why I did this."

Then, he moved toward you, closing the space between you both in a few deliberate steps. 

You blinked in confusion as he stopped directly in front of you, standing between your legs. Even like this, with you perched on the counter, he was taller. His presence was overwhelming, his proximity setting your nerves on edge. 

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice faltering slightly.

He reached past you, his hand brushing lightly against your arm as he opened the cupboard behind you. “I need a glass,” he said smoothly, his voice low.

You leaned forward instinctively so he could open the cabinet behind you. For a brief moment, you were pressed closer to him, your breath catching as you realized how little distance was left between you. 

He stepped back after retrieving the glass, returning to his drink as if nothing had happened. You watched him carefully, your heart still racing. There was something about the way he moved, so deliberate and composed, that both irritated and intrigued you. 

When he finally finished, he turned back to you. “Have you decided?” he asked.

“Decided what?”

“Whether you’ll stay with me. Whether you’ll join me.”

Your laugh was bitter, humorless. “You already know my answer. I’ll not join you. And as soon as I can, I’m going home.”

Something flickered across his face—disappointment, perhaps, but it was gone too quickly to read. He nodded once, setting his drink down on the counter. 

Then, before you could react, he came up to you again and placed his hands on your waist, lifting you off the counter with surprising ease. You tensed, ready to protest, but his grip was steady, grounding. 

“I want to show you something,” he said softly, his voice almost gentle and his dark eyes catching yours. You tried not to stare, tried not to acknowledge how ridiculously good he looked in his perfectly tailored black shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his forearms.  

You hesitated. There was no reason to trust him, no reason to believe this wasn’t another one of his manipulations. But there was something in his tone, something that made you curious despite yourself. 

“Fine,” you said finally, your voice laced with defiance. “But this better not be another one of your twisted games.”

He smirked faintly, a shadow of amusement crossing his face. “I think you’ll want to see this.” But before leaving he asked, “How’s your wound?” voice low, steady, but there was an edge of genuine curiosity.  

“It’s fine,” you said quickly, a little too quickly. “Why do you care?”  

“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” he replied simply, his words cutting through the air. 

You shrugged, trying to seem unaffected, but your body betrayed you. The memory of that gunshot, the panic, the pain—it all came rushing back in flashes. “I said it’s fine.”  

He didn’t believe you. His gaze dropped to your side, where the faint outline of the bandage peeked out from beneath your fitted black top. Without asking, he reached out, his fingers brushing just above the wound, careful but deliberate.  

You flinched, not from pain but from the sheer heat of his touch. It wasn’t fair—how could someone so infuriating have hands that felt this warm, this careful?  

“You’re a terrible liar,” he murmured, his lips quirking into the faintest hint of a smirk.  

“Yeah, well, you’re a terrible human being,” you shot back.

With that, he guided you toward the door, his hand resting lightly on your back as you walked. For better or worse, you were about to find out what he had planned. tag list: @carrotjuicepdf @wwastro @lucinda-reads @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @kripr2 @raideyo @kushnovice @ft-winnow @grliealibi @r3va-dwme @fantasylovestoryme Want to get tagged in the next part? Drop a comment.

[sleepycoffeecas]

Puppy love chapter 3 🍨

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I'm midway through making a customer's drink when the café bell rings. I quickly make my way to the register to take their order and spot Yeji and Ryujin approaching.

“Oh hey!” I say, grabbing the drinks I had prepared earlier. “Where's the cute guy?” Ryujin asks, picking up her drink and grabbing a straw. “I think he’s in the back; he should come out soon,” I reply, and she hums in acknowledgment. “We’ll stick around for a bit; I'm curious about him,” Yeji adds, pointing to a nearby table. “Plus, my class isn’t for a while.” I nod and say, “I'll bring you more coffee if you need it.”

After the two girls settle at the table, another customer enters. I finish preparing their order before heading over to them. “Hello! What can I get for you today?” I ask, looking up to see a very handsome man that looks just like yeji?

“Is Seungmin here?” he asks, locking eyes with me. “Who?” I mumble, confused. “Kim Seungmin? He said he was here.”

I stare blankly for a moment before realizing who he means. “Oh, you mean the other person working? Uhm, I can go get him for you.” He gives me a strange look but nods. “Yeah, please, thanks.” “No problem, sir,” I say, turning to find him.

“Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin, that's my name,” he adds. I pause mid-step, processing his last name. “Hwang Hyunjin? As in Hwang Yeji?” I turn back to him. “Uh, yeah, she’s my sister.” I blink in surprise. “You mean THAT Hwang Yeji?” I say while pointing to the table her and ryujin are sitting at.

“Yeah, she's my twin sister.” “Oh,” I mumble under my breath. “Well, I'm going to get my coworker now.” I quickly turn away and head to the back.

When I enter, I see Seungmin? stocking the shelves. “Uhm, Seungmin…?” “Yeah?” I’m a bit taken aback that he responded but quickly gather my thoughts. “Someone is looking for you.” “Oh, okay, I'll be out in a second.” I nod and make my way back to the front.

“He said he’ll be out in a second,” I tell Hyunjin as I approach the counter. “Thanks, but you never told me your name.” “Oh, I’m YN.”

“Nice to meet you, beautiful,” he says with a charming smile. I feel my cheeks warm at the compliment but quickly regain my composure. “Uhm, do you want a drink or anything?” “Hitting on me already?” His teasing makes my face redden further, and he chuckles.

“I’ll take an Americano, sweetheart. Thanks.” I nod and head to make his drink just as Seungmin emerges from the back and approaches Hyunjin.

After preparing Hyunjin's Americano, I hand it to him. “Thanks, sweetheart.” “No problem,” I mumble before turning to Seungmin. “Are you okay taking over for a second?” “Yeah, I got it.” I nod and then walk over to Yeji and Ryujin.

“You didn't tell me you had a brother, Yeji,” I say, and she looks at me, confused. “How didn’t you know? Everyone on campus is obsessed with him.”

“Oh, well, he was just flirting with me.” Yeji sighs and shakes her head. “He’s just like that. Don’t get involved with him. Plus, he has seven other soulmates.”

I immediately freeze at her words. “I’m sorry, how many?” Both she and Ryujin look at me, puzzled. “He has eight, including him-?”

I blink at her in disbelief. “What?” She tilts her head, looking even more confused. “Nothing, sorry. Uhm, anyway, I need to get back to work,” I mumble, feeling a sense of sadness wash over me before I stand up from their table.

“And YN,” Yeji says, grabbing my hand, “that guy who’s working with you? His name is Seungmin. He’s one of Hyunjin’s soulmates.” I nod at her, forcing a slight smile to mask my feelings, before walking back to the counter.

[lonewolflupe]

A Different Kind Of Fireworks (One-Shot)

This is my entry for week 13 of The Clone Wars Winter Spectacular 2024 / @clone-wars-winter-challenge !

I'm still working on week 12's entry because of Christmas and all that stuff. I had intended to write this fic with Tup, but I was feeling quite down so chose to write this with Echo instead (since he's my major comfort character). I had so much fun writing this and am feeling much better now <3

Summary: You’re excited to watch the Coruscanti fireworks for the first time - but preferably with someone special Rating: Teen and up Tags: fluff, anxiety, mutual pining, friends to lovers, kissing, first kiss, New Years Words: 2.062 Pairing: 501st Echo x gen!reader Prompts: Happy New Year / "Baby It's Cold Outside" / *First Kiss* Read this one-shot here on AO3 week 11 < | week 12 < | ↓

A new year, a new beginning. At least, that’s what you were hoping for. You had moved to Coruscant after the war had started, trying to help out wherever you could. But it had been a rather lonely endeavour, leaving everything and everyone you knew behind. You were happy to get to know a handful of the millions of clone troopers who risked their lives to protect the Republic, even when you knew their chances of survival were slim. But getting to know some of them helped you feel more comfortable around the place, and you liked the thought of making their rotations a little bit brighter.

And one of them seemed to be making your own rotations a bit brighter as well.

You sat at 79’s counter, fidgeting with the rim of your sleeve. You felt hopeful for him to appear and at the same time, devastated because he probably wouldn’t. So many of them didn’t return after a mission or a campaign, and you felt like his chances were dwindling every time he was being sent out again. You were probably getting yourself hurt for attaching yourself to him, but you couldn’t help it; the short moments you had spent with him had been worth all the worrying.

Completely lost in your own thoughts, you almost missed the small group of clones entering the cantina. It was the loud voices of two of them that made you snap back into reality, and when you glanced over hopefully, an enthusiastic smile appeared on your face when you finally noticed him. You turned around on your barstool a bit awkward; you tried acting casually, but from the inside, you were bustling with anticipation. You almost couldn’t wait to spend the evening with him, now that he was back on Coruscant. Especially this evening.

“Fives, I’m telling you, disabling an AAT does not count towards your killstreak,” you heard Jesse’s voice shouting over the crowd. Fives waved his brother’s remark away with a smug expression on his face. “Well, tell that to the shinies I saved by doing so,” came his reply, earning him a subtle head shake from Echo. “Is it really called a killstreak if it’s clankers? I mean, we don’t kill any of them, technically,” Echo remarked, being practical as ever, making you chuckle softly. “But what if we shoot them into oblivion and there’s nothing left to be remade?” Jesse added to the discussion, as he raised an eyebrow and folded his arms. Another head shake from Echo, before he replied: “You can’t kill something that’s not alive.”

“They feel alive enough to me,” Fives replied with a sigh, before a silence washed over them. But after a brief moment, Fives’ gaze reached you. You were still sitting on the barstool, a sheepish smile appearing on your face when he noticed you, awkwardly waving to them as a welcome. Fives’ expression lit up in an instant, before his lips slid into a mischievous smirk. He bumped his elbow into Echo before he nodded towards you. “Speaking about feeling alive,” he snickered to his brother, not loud enough for you to hear.

Echo’s face brightened in an instant when he noticed you, but he tried to hide his enthusiasm, pushing away Fives’ arm before he mustered the courage to walk up towards you. Fives and Jesse followed close behind. “I was afraid you guys wouldn’t be around to celebrate tonight,” you smiled at them when they reached you, saving your most genuine smile for Echo. You looked away a bit flustered when his gaze met yours, turning back towards the bar to order some new drinks.

“We wouldn’t want to miss spending it with you,” Fives grinned, landing a heavy hand on Echo’s shoulder as he spoke the words. Echo tried shrugging it off, but his brother was very persistent. “I tried claiming a booth,” you said whilst grabbing the freshly poured drinks and handing them to the boys, “but as you can see, it’s quite crowded tonight.” You handed Echo’s glass last, and when you did, your fingers briefly touched. You felt how a warm feeling erupted inside you and made for your head, so you quickly turned your face away from him.

“As was expected,” Jesse said with a click of his tongue whilst looking around, taking the crowded place in. When he returned his attention to the group, he raised his drink before you all clinked your glasses together and drank your beverages. “We could have made a pretty impressive fireworks show ourselves,” he continued, after finishing his drink. “I mean, I know a few troopers from the 501st who would love to help put something together.” You chuckled softly, picturing the spectacle Jesse was talking about, before addressing them. “I’d love to see that one day. But for tonight, I’m more than excited to watch Coruscant’s fireworks.”

---

The lot of you had been able to confiscate a booth later during the evening, and were enjoying each other's company with more stories, drinks and laughter. You had subtly slid on the couch at Echo’s side, trying to sit close to him, but not too close to make it any suspicious. You talked about their missions and your work back at Coruscant, but also managed to inform them about the current state of Coruscant and the Republic. When it was nearly midnight, you started shifting in your seat.

“Got some place to go?” Fives asked you with another of his trademark smirks; of course he had noticed the shift in your demeanour - and felt the need to make a remark about it. You swallowed whilst picking your next words carefully. “I, er- I’d like to go watch the fireworks outside. I don’t suppose any of you want to join?” Fives leaned backwards in his seat, the content look on his face not making you any more comfortable about his intentions.

Whilst Fives remained silent for a chance, Jesse started nodding enthusiastically. Although he preferred creating their own fireworks show, he didn’t mind watching this one - for his own pleasure, or to boast about how much more interesting he could make his own show. He was ready to jump to his feet, but got discouraged by Fives’ hand on his shoulder. You had no idea what Fives was up to, but the stern look he shot Jesse did make the latter change his mind. “Baby, it’s, er- it’s cold outside,” he stammered slowly, not as confident as he had been before.

Fives looked back at you, clicking his tongue in defeat, slowly shaking his head to show you how much he agreed with his brother. It was cold outside, and warm inside - and there was booze here. And Jesse’s words about them being able to create a better show kept repeating in your mind. You should have known they didn’t return to Coruscant to watch the fireworks with you. As you shyly lowered your gaze, it was lost on you how Fives shifted his attention towards Echo, giving him an encouraging nod towards you.

Echo clearing his throat made you look up at him, dread taking you in its grasp as you were preparing yourself for another rejection. But the soft look on his face made you regain hope. “I’d like to accompany you outside,” he said to you, his voice practical as always, but there was a warmth to it you only noticed in his voice. With eyes wide open, you looked up at him, almost in disbelief. “Y-you would?” Instead of a spoken reply, he rose to his feet and granted you a welcoming gesture with his hand, silently asking you to join him. Your face was beaming when you did. “I guess until next year,” Fives grinned as you and Echo made for 79’s exit.

---

The Coruscanti nightlife was bustling like always, but you still managed to find a spot near the edge in front of 79’s, overlooking one of the planet’s many entertainment districts. The view was breathtaking, and all the movement and lights below almost looked like the fireworks show had already started. And besides, you were alone with Echo; even if the show wouldn’t be as spectacular as you were hoping, this night would be perfect regardless.

“Thanks for joining me outside,” you said softly, your voice just loud enough to carry over the noises around you. “Of course,” he smiled at you, leaning his forearms on the balustrade in front of you. He let his gaze slide over the view in front of you, and you watched how a soft breeze played with his hair. It wasn’t as wild and wavy as Fives’, but you noticed he wasn’t wearing the standard clone haircut anymore. You wanted to run your fingers through his subtle curls, to feel the warmth coming from his skin, to drown yourself in his eyes - but you didn’t know how to tell him what you felt for him.

You shifted on your feet nervously and chuckled, trying to regain yourself from your wandering thoughts. The sound of your soft laughter made him look at you with an adoration that made you almost melt on the spot. When you tried keeping the conversation going, you stammered to get the words out right. “I-I’ve actually never seen the, er- the fireworks before. Here on Coruscant, that is.” He huffed at your words, and you didn’t know if it was from amusement or irony. “Me neither,” he said softly, casting his eyes down for a moment before he found yours again.

And for a moment, you lost yourself in them. His eyes were the most beautiful, lively ones you had ever seen, and it looked like they held a galaxy of their own; they were smouldering like embers in a fire, shining like a rippling stream on a warm planet. They were calming, and the comfort they brought you wrapped you like a blanket. “That doesn’t surprise me,” was your reply, but you didn’t know if it was merely a thought or if you really spoke them out loud.

After a moment in which you had lost all conscience of time, you noticed a playful flicker in his eyes just before his lips started moving. “Don’t forget about the fireworks,” he said to you, his lips landing shut into an amused smile. You almost did forget about the fireworks. And if you had, you felt like you hadn’t missed a thing. You blinked a few times, getting back into reality only to realise the fireworks had indeed started already. You suddenly noticed the loud explosions around you, the lights painting the city in a different light, the sounds of wonder and excitement around you.

In awe, you silently mouthed a ‘wow’ as you beheld the spectacle of fireworks all around you. It was everything you had hoped for - and so much more, with Echo by your side. “It’s so pretty!” you said out loud after some more gazing, and with enthusiasm beaming from your face, you turned back to Echo, meeting his warm eyes again. “Yeah, it is,” was his reply, as he was already - or still - looking at you. He seemed completely taken by you, mesmerised by the way the lights reflected in your eyes. You suddenly wondered if he was even talking about the fireworks.

“W-what?” you murmured softly, just before you got pushed towards him due to all the excitement around you, making you bump into Echo. He caught you, gently wrapping his arms around you to make sure you couldn’t be tossed about any more. Your breath got caught in the back of your throat just when you looked back up at him, suddenly recognising the longing radiating from his face - the same longing you had been feeling towards him.

“Happy New Year,” he whispered softly, just loud enough for you to hear, before he leaned towards you. And in a moment where everything around you started to blur and you forgot everything about the fireworks you had been so eager to see, he pressed his lips against yours. And with it, he warmed your body, he eased your mind and he satisfied your longing. For a moment, there wasn’t a worry in the galaxy as you were experiencing this different kind of fireworks. With this first kiss, he had made the new beginning you had hoped for.

Fives would make such a great wingman (especially to Echo) <3

Taglist (read to join): @welcometo79s @covert1ntrovert @diamondluna2 @aknightreaderr @returnofthepineapple @sunshinesdaydream

[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 42

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 41

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Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smut, light alcohol use, fingering, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, heavy kissing/groping, praise/degradation, unprotected sex, oral sex, squirting, fluff

Word Count: 8.8k

divider by @strangergraphics

Part 42: Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

Wednesday, February 14th, 1990

The following few weeks after Eddie's proposal are, in one word, intense. You've got more than too much on your plate lately. Between being in the throes of your final semester of college, to working your ass off at the Hawk keeping the underlings in line, your few remaining waking hours have been spent on wedding-planning. You've enlisted the help of Robin, your maid of honor, as well as Nancy, a bridesmaid, and your mother. Erica is your third and final pick for the bridal party, but she's far too busy with her own school work to help you out. Besides, Mom was practically chomping at the bit to bestow a stack of bridal magazines unto you.

Thus far, planning has been a frenzied mess. You'd hoped that having Nancy around would help you and the other women keep level heads. But that couldn't be further from the truth. You've spent hours and hours with the three of them, circling China patterns, dog-earring pages of wedding gowns, bickering about floral arrangements. You've figured out very few aspects of the wedding at all, besides the guest list and the band. Eddie insisted Corroded Coffin, with Jeff as the front-man, play the reception. He hasn't had much input otherwise, so you agreed. Plus, they've agreed to play any songs you want, and for a very affordable rate. And who are you to turn up your nose at a good deal? It's a known fact within...well, humanity, that weddings aren't cheap.

Despite the numerous, tedious meetings you've been hosting in your apartment, you find yourself right back at square one every time. It's overwhelming. You've got too many voices in your ear, when you assumed four heads would be better than one. By the time everyone leaves for the night, you're left with an overpowering sense of doom. Like nothing you say, or think, or feel about what's meant to be such a momentous day matters.

Eddie tries his best to be of help, soothing your stress headaches and talking you down from hyper-ventilating spirals. You don't even have to explain much of it to him, he's gotten quite an earful by just hanging out in the bedroom while these groupings take place. But it appears that every time he puts you back together, the next time your 'helpers' come over makes you fall apart all over again. You're certain that he's frustrated by it, you definitely are yourself. But he's never shown it, not in an obvious way, at least. Maybe an occasional deep sigh here, or a slight eye roll there. But he never makes you feel like you're burdening him. He would never do that.

"Sweetheart, you fell asleep on the couch again." Eddie whispers, shaking you awake.

"What?" You ask groggily, blinking your eyes open. You find yourself laid out on the sofa, magazines littered with post-its and pen marks covering you in a blanket of glossy paper. An uncapped pen rests stiffly in your hand, it's a wonder you didn't scribble on yourself in your sleep. "Shit, I'm sorry, Eds. I didn't mean to stay up so late with all this." Your neck is sore from sleeping awkwardly on your side, and your clothes from last night cling to you with light sweat. You let out a groan as you twist your head side to side in an effort to alleviate the pain. You move to sit up, a few of the mags slipping down onto the floor.

"It's alright, babydoll. I know making everything perfect is important to you." Eddie replies patiently, bending down to pick up the mess.

"Yeah, spending hours arguing with my mother about hydrangeas and puffy white dresses is real perfect." You scoff, stacking the rest of the magazines on the coffee table.

"Well, maybe it would help to take a break from all the planning, hm?" He suggests, a sly smile on his lips. "A special Valentine's surprise, perhaps?" He says lowly while looking at you from the floor, waiting for a response. He's completely sure you've forgotten about the romantic holiday, which he doesn't blame you for. Life's been kicking your ass lately, and he only wants to make it better.

"Oh my god, I can't believe I forgot!" You scold yourself, smacking your forehead. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I've been a terrible fiancé lately." You sigh, grabbing hold of Eddie's face to plant kisses all over him to beg for forgiveness.

"No you're not, Y/N. You just have a lot goin' on. Which is why I planned everything out, to make tonight totally perfect." Eddie chuckles as you litter his flesh with wet smooches, his hands rubbing your shoulders to let you know it's okay.

"Really?" You stop kissing him, confused that he's somehow fine with you neglecting him. "Are you sure I deserve that? I know we haven't had a lot of time together lately, and even less sex. I mean, I've barely even sucked your c一"

"Angel, it's fine." He cuts you off from your self-flagellating rant, speaking to you calmly. He cups your cheek, giving you a warm smile. "Just promise it'll only be me and you tonight. No catalogs, no classes, no customers. Fair enough?"

"More than fair." You nod happily, placing your lips on his for a real kiss. "And I may have forgotten what today is, but I did remember to get you a present." You say eagerly, biting your lip.

"Oh, did you now? When did you ever find the time?" He teases.

"Somewhere between sleepless nights, I'm sure." You giggle, hopping off of the couch to go dig his present out of your special hiding place. The small cabinet above the fridge, where it's too small and high up to store anything kitchen-related. You climb up onto the counter, leaning over to open the cabinet. You pull out a rectangular bundle wrapped in red tissue paper, excitedly jumping back down to the floor afterwards. Eddie stands up to meet you, and you hold the present out to him. "For you, my love."

Eddie takes the gift from you, and tears open the paper to reveal a beautifully crafted leather journal with a three-headed dragon engraved on the front. A smaller matching pouch sits on top, with some fancy pens inside of it. You'd found this gorgeous set at the new-agey shop downtown, beside some bundles of sage and a shelf full of spell books. "These are beautiful, princess." Eddie says, in awe of how detailed the leather work is, his hand running over the hundreds of etched-in scales on the dragon.

"I noticed your notebooks have been getting pretty full lately, figured you could use a new one. For all your amazing drawings and ideas." You explain, adoring the look of wonder on his face. You're so glad he likes them. Although, you could probably wrap up his old socks and still manage to 'wow' him.

"Thank you sweetheart, this is perfect." Eddie rewards you with a tender kiss, his free arm wrapping around you to hold you close.

"I'm glad you like it, Eds." You say softly, fighting back the sudden urge to cry. It's come over you unexpectedly, you suppose it's all that racked-up guilt from the last few weeks. Your bottom lip trembles, betraying your efforts to hide and not ruin this day.

"Baby, what's wrong?" He tuts, wondering what he said or did to upset you. You shake your head, failing to prevent your eyes from tearing up. You know you're being silly. You shouldn't feel bad after he's assured you that everything is fine. "C'mere, love. Talk to me." He insists, leading you to sit back down with him on the couch.

"It's stupid, Eds. Really." You reply through a stifled sob.

"Honey, if it's making you this upset, I'm sure it isn't stupid." Eddie strokes your arms to coax you into talking to him.

You take a minute before answering. "I-I know you said it's fine, but I still feel bad for being so busy all the time. I know I shouldn't, but I do anyway." You explain sadly, searching his eyes for frustration or disappointment, but you find none.

"That's okay, Y/N. I mean, I don't want you to feel bad, obviously. But I don't want you to hide your true feelings from me, either. Just feel 'em, cry it out, and we'll have our romantic date later. 'Kay?" Eddie says, loving as ever. He hates seeing you so sad, over something perfectly normal. But he can't say he wouldn't feel the same if the roles were reversed, if his job and other things in his life monopolized his time instead of you.

"Okay." You nod, shrinking yourself down into his embrace. You're relieved as you break it down for him. How hard work and your classes have been, how Mom and the others have been driving you absolutely crazy. It's nice to let it all out, the stress slowly evaporating alongside your tears. You feel sane again, and less like your head is going to explode. "So, what'd you get me?" You ask, now able to focus on the lovey-dovey activities this special day will bring.

"Sorry, not telling. But you'll find out tonight, babydoll." Eddie chuckles, grateful for your brightening mood.

"Whatever you say, love. You mind making breakfast?" Your stomach growls at the thought of some French toast.

"Anything for you, sweetheart." He gives you a brief peck, before getting up to make you some food.

"Mew." Arwen signals her arrival as she hops up onto the couch to see you. She comes right over to your lap, making biscuits on your thighs.

"Good morning, little one. Did you keep daddy company last night?" You ask her, raising a hand to give her some scratches.

"Mew." She replies, closing her eyes and purring loudly at your loving touch.

"I'll take that as a yes." You smile down at the cat, gently rubbing the bridge of her nose. She loves when you do that, instantly melting into your lap. You continue to pet her as Eddie cooks breakfast, joining him at the table once it's ready. You devour the bacon, eggs, and syrupy French toast like a woman starved. You'd forgotten to eat dinner last night after the others had left, too focused on trying to pick out the perfect color scheme. Every last bite is exactly what you need, filling you up nicely.

Once the plates are cleared away, Eddie leads you down the hall to take a shower with him. He turns on the water, and helps you remove your clothes before taking off his own. He sets out a couple fluffy towels, and lets you get under the hot rushing water first. It soaks through your hair and skin, encasing you like a warm blanket. The heat feels good on your neck, as well as Eddie's firm hands that come up to rub your knotted flesh. "You gotta stop sleepin' on that couch, babydoll. Gonna really hurt yourself one of these days." He coos to you as his fingers work to untangle your muscles.

"I know, Eds." You sigh blissfully, backing your body into his. His taut chest meets your back, and you can feel his cock pressing into your ass. He's only half-hard, as he usually is whenever he sees you naked. "Feels good to have your hands on me, though." You let out a breathy moan, tilting your head so he can get your other side more thoroughly.

"I'm well aware, angel. Why else do you think I use them so much?" He chuckles lowly, bringing his lips to kiss your shoulder. A pit of lust forms in your stomach at the contact, only growing deeper as his mouth travels slowly towards your throat. Your heart begins to beat faster, your chest practically heaving from his touch. It's barely anything at all, but neither of you have been getting much in the way of intimacy lately. Eddie continues massaging your neck, eliciting quiet moans from you all the while. His cock stiffens with each one, poking you more and more firmly as the seconds pass. When he deems your neck adequately attended to, his lips lay a blazing trail along your throat. And his left hand snakes down the front of your body, making a small detour at your breast. He cups and squeezes the mound of your chest.

"Eddie..." You whimper, pushing yourself further into him. His thumb and forefinger roll your nipple in their grip, gently tweaking it. You can sense how soaked you are for him, despite the hot water rushing down your chest, stomach, and thighs.

"Let me make you feel good, sweetheart." Eddie purrs in your ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth.

"What about you?" You ask, turning your head to look back at him.

"We'll worry about me later. It's your turn right now." He says sweetly, his eyes blown wide with desire. Sure, his dick is getting very hard, precum leaking profusely from its tip. But he wants to make you come undone more than anything. You've been putting yourself through the wringer lately, you need this. You give him a silent nod, facing forward again. "Good girl." He praises, nipping your neck with his teeth. His hand ventures lower, running across your belly and effortlessly dipping between your thighs.

"Fuck." Your hips buck once his middle finger brushes against your clit, but his free arm wraps around you to keep you close to him. He rubs lazy circles on your bud, occasionally sliding through your folds to spread your arousal.

"So fuckin' wet for me, baby." Eddie groans against your throat, leaving a dark hickey in his wake.

"Only for you, love." You moan in response, your hands grabbing at his hairy thighs for purchase. These few seconds of pleasure he's brought you so far are more than enough to have your knees giving out.

"That's right... just for me." He chuckles darkly, teasing your tight entrance with the tips of his fingers. Barely dipping inside half a centimeter, before ducking out again. "You're my girl...my fiancé...and soon, you'll be my wife. All mine, my perfect little slut." He speaks explicitly into your ear, his breath fanning hotly against you as his thick fingers finally dive inside your pussy.

"Yours, all yours!" You moan loudly at his digits filling you up, your nails digging into his legs. Eddie curls his knuckles slowly at first, marveling at your obscene noises. Your head has fallen back against his shoulder, your eyes blissfully closed as sensation builds inside of you. Your lips are parted enough to let out delicious whimpers and utterances of his name, and your cunt squelches around his fingers as he fucks them into you.

"God, you're already so fucked for me...been too long. Hasn't it, love?" He asks, increasing his pace just a little.

"Yes, fuck, I've missed this." You nod your head.

"So have I, baby." Eddie kisses you again, curling and thrusting his fingers more roughly now. His fingertips hit your sweet-spot with precision, pressing the spongy bit of flesh again and again.

"Oh, god. Just like that, Eddie. Don't stop." You moan to him how good it feels, how perfectly he's able to reach inside you.

"Yeah? You like the way I fuck your pretty little pussy? You're makin' such a mess on my hand, sweetheart." He continues to talk dirty in a groaning tone, every word building your pleasure up. Your juices are pooling in his palm, spilling over to coat your thighs. His cock rubs against your ass absently, desperate for friction. Watching you fall apart like this is driving him crazy, and you can feel his excitement dripping down the curve of your behind.

"Turn around, Eds. I wanna touch you too." You beg, itching to get your hands on him. You try to swivel yourself around, but it's a bit hard to do in this position.

"Relax, Y/N. You'll get what you want." Eddie coos, stilling you with his arm so you don't get hurt. He carefully pulls his hand away, allowing you to face him. You immediately grab hold of his throbbing dick, stroking him with your wetted hand. "Fuck, baby. So impatient." He chuckles through a groan. He savors your touch on him for a moment, watching your hollowed fist pump up and down his length. Pearly pre-cum oozes from him with every stroke, needy sounds escaping his lips. He leads you back against the shower wall, and slips his fingers into your cunt again. His free hand cages you in, his musky scent filling your nostrils as it's yet to be washed away.

"I love you, Eddie." You say softly, your breath catching in your throat as Eddie adopts a faster pace than before. The coil inside you grows tighter, and you gaze adoringly into his eyes as he pounds you.

"I love you too, princess." He grunts, eyes rolling back slightly as you rub his swollen cockhead with your thumb. He won't last much longer if you keep it up. Eddie presses his lips to yours as you hastily get each other off, his tongue tangling with your own instantly. You make out heavily under the rain of the shower head, murmuring thoughtless phrases along the lines of 'faster, harder' and 'feels so good, baby'. Your minds run a mile a minute, hands pumping rabidly, tongues dancing with unwavering hunger. Wet noises fill the room alongside your moans. You don't want to stop kissing, or touching. Not for a single second. Your bodies ache for one another, it's a miracle you're able to resist full-on fucking until later on. You have to make each other cum, now more than ever.

"I'm getting close, baby. Your fingers feel so good inside me, please make me cum." You moan as your high is about to take you over. Your walls flutter around Eddie's hand, signaling your end.

"I'm right there, too, angel. Just keep stroking my cock, be a good girl for me." Eddie groans back, his stomach threatening to tense any second now.

"Oh, god, fuck!" You cry out as your orgasm bursts inside your core, consuming your entire being in roaring flames. You clamp down around Eddie's fingers, sticky release gushing out of you. Your thighs tremble, near enough to make you fall over.

"Shit..." He gasps, before letting out a loud moan. His hips stutter, bucking against your hand as thick ropes of white shoot out of his cock. They spill onto your fingers, your stomach, even your tits. He slumps forward, burying his head in your neck until his high slips away. You're left sweaty and panting against the wall for a few minutes, exchanging a couple more flaming kisses in the aftermath. You pull away at some point, with you releasing his cock from your grip, while he slips his fingers out of you. You taste Eddie's cum on your hand, humming in satisfaction at the sweetness of it. He does the same, sucking his wrinkled fingers clean. "You have no idea how much I needed that, babydoll." Eddie grins, taking your hand in his.

"Believe me, I needed it just as much as you did." You smile back, reaching for the shampoo. "We'd better wash up before the hot water runs out." You squirt some of the soap into your hands, before passing the bottle off to him.

You spend the brief amount of time you have to shower in a comfortable temperature getting yourselves nice and squeaky clean. Afterwards, you slip into some comfy pajamas and curl up together on the couch. Eddie pops in one of the cheesy romantic movies you'd rented into the VCR, pulling a blanket over the two of you to get comfortable. He keeps you close in his arms, making you feel warm and secure as he always does. This lazy afternoon is exactly what you need to recharge prior to your special night out later on. You spend hours just like this, watching film after film and munching on some popcorn. Say Anything, Pretty in Pink, and a horror by the name of My Bloody Valentine that Eddie happened to sneak in the mix are the showings for today. Not a bad bunch, in your opinion. You've been sworn to secrecy on the issue, but Eddie loves John Hughes movies. In his own words, they're very 'real', and you definitely agree.

In the early evening, Eddie leaves you alone for a minute to prepare his surprise for you in the bedroom. You're painfully curious as to what it is, but you resist the urge to lean over and have a peek down the hall. "Okay, it's ready!" Eddie calls to you, giving you the go-ahead to find your present.

"Coming!" You practically spring from the couch, skittering down the hall to join him. You find him sitting on the side of the bed, with two nicely-wrapped gifts beside him. One is a large red box with a big bow on top, and the other is a pink bag with sparkly tissue inside.

"Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart." Eddie says with a smile, eager to see what you think. You step closer to the larger gift, pulling the lid off the box. There's paper inside, concealing the contents further. You unfold it, revealing a gorgeous, baby pink satin dress and matching shoes. The dress is very similar to ones you already own, meant to show as much skin as possible. But this beautiful color has yet to grace your closet. You pull it out of the box, holding it up to yourself to guess how it'll look on you.

"This is beautiful, Eds! And you got the right size and everything!" You beam, dying to try it on.

"There's more, angel." Eddie smirks, picking up the smaller bag to hand to you. You take it from his grip, immediately tossing the paper out of it. And you find a luxurious set of lingerie inside, which matches the dress. There's a strapless bustier, cheeky panties, a garter belt. It even comes with pink fishnet stockings.

"Eddie, I love it!" You give him a thankful kiss, setting the present down to climb onto his lap and straddle him. "They're so pretty, baby. I can't wait to wear them." You say with gratitude, smiling brightly.

"Well, you won't have to wait long. Because we're going out for dinner." Eddie grins mischievously, having yet another surprise to reveal.

"Ooh! Where are we going?" You ask excitedly, bouncing in his lap.

"Enzo's. That fancy Italian place. I know you've always wanted to go there." He explains, and you can't help tackling him further onto the bed and enthusiastically gracing his handsome, adorable face with kisses.

"Enzo's! Are you serious!? You are the sweetest man in the entire world! I love you so, so much! And I am gonna fuck your brains out when we come back home!" You exclaim, repeatedly kissing his cheeks, chin, and forehead. Eddie giggles madly as you do this, your lips beginning to tickle him.

"I'm just giving the most amazing woman in the world everything she deserves, sweetheart." His hands grip your hips, hoping for some semblance of stability as you continue to smooch the hell out of him. His face has gone red in his laughter, he can barely breathe. But he'd happily suffocate in your affection, so long as it never goes away.

"This 'most amazing woman' is me, right?" You ask jokingly, ceasing your love-attack.

"Yes, Y/N. Who else could make me as happy as you do?" He says honestly, brushing a stray hair behind your ear and gazing deep into your eyes.

"Shit, I've converted you into a full-blown romantic, haven't I?" You tease. Never in your life did you think you'd ensnare the heart of the bristly metalhead, who used to have quite a reputation for throwing diatribal tantrums in the middle of the cafeteria. But here he is, currently pinned down by your body, on your shared bed, and engaged to you.

"Hey, now. I happen to think I've always had some Casanova-like qualities." He chuckles. "But, I'll admit I didn't think I could be so insanely in love with someone, the way I am with you." Maybe a few years ago, he would've cringed at himself for saying such sappy things. But as sickly sweet as the words may be, they ring true for him now that he has you in his life. And there's no way he could ever go back to being that same cynical dickhead from before. The one who thought love was just a scam to sell greeting cards and shitty chocolate. If anything, he'd go back and smack some sense into his younger self. To tell third-time senior Eddie to nut up and ask you out like he'd been dying to.

But he supposes you wouldn't be where you are now if he had. Immature Eddie would've probably skipped out on you at the first sign of trouble, awful as that is to admit. He was dealing with a lot of his own bullshit back then, there's no way he could've been what you needed. Eddie's not too big a fan of the word 'fate', or the concept behind it. The idea that there's no true free will, that somehow everything is predetermined, and everyone is set on an inescapable path from birth. He likes to think he has more control over his own life and future than that. But he will say that he's lucky as hell to have you be his girl. His woman. He'll do everything to avoid squandering this wonderful thing he has with you. This deep, meaningful, sappy, sweet, hopeless, romantic, love.

"I didn't think I could either, Eds. Seeing my parents fall apart definitely put me off of romance for a very long time." You say, not breaking this intense stare you're both captured in. "But I know we aren't like my parents, or yours. What we have is real, and perfect, and wonderful. I'm never letting this fade. Ever."

"Neither am I, Y/N." He shakes his head, raising his head to give you a gentle kiss. It doesn't last long, since you have a reservation that Eddie worked very hard to get. "Let's get dressed, sweetheart. Dinner is at six." He pats your thighs, waiting for you to get up.

"Don't mind if I do." You say giddily, rolling off of him towards your pretty new things.

"It's nice to see you excited about something again." Eddie smiles, watching you quickly remove your pajamas to reveal your gorgeous body.

"It's nice to be excited, love. Everything has just been so much lately, I haven't had the time to enjoy planning our special day." You sigh, pulling the brand new lingerie out of its bag. You remove the tags, putting the pieces on one by one.

"Believe me, I know." He keeps observing you as you pull the panties up to your hips, your hands fastening the front of the bustier, your fingers rolling the hosiery over your thighs and clipping them in place. "Lemme look at you for a sec, baby. I've been dyin' to see this on you. My vivid imagination can only do so much." He gestures for you to stand before him, do a little rotation to show off your assets.

"Anything for you." You giggle at his ogling, moving over so he can see you fully. You feel so sexy in this getup, the fabric is absolutely delicious against your skin. And the look on Eddie's face makes you feel like the hottest woman on the entire planet. You turn around, giving him a good look at your ass swallowing up the panties, the straps of the garter running up the backs of your thighs. 

"Fuck..." He mutters, his dick twitching at just how exquisite you look in this little number. Shit, if you didn't have a reservation, he'd bend you over right here and now. "I hate to flatter my own shopping skills, but I don't think you've ever looked sexier." Eddie grins, pleased with himself. The sales girl was very helpful at the store, although she offered to model this for him. Which he quickly and politely declined.

"And I'm inclined to agree. I feel unbelievably hot right now." You say as you turn back around again. You continue getting ready, pulling out the dress and heels from their box. "So, what are you wearing to dinner?" You ask curiously.

"I bought a new shirt, and a jacket, too. Figure if you're gonna look this incredible tonight, I ought to do the same." He replies, getting up to pull his new clothes out of the closet. You catch a glimpse of a dark purple button-up shirt, and a black jacket to match the slacks he already owns.

"Purple? That's a new color for you." You observe, you honestly can't think of a time where he's worn anything that isn't black or red, or occasionally blue. But you can tell that the fit and hue he picked is going to make him good enough to eat.

"I decided to branch out." He says casually, not thinking much of it. It felt right when he tried it on in the men's dressing room, his other nice shirts fit a bit too loose on him. He wanted something that truly belongs to him, not some hand-me-down from Wayne or the thrift store. Eddie strips off his comfy clothes, pulling some black boxers from the dresser, and some socks.

You both get dressed, keeping pretty quiet as you do. In a way, you're separating yourselves, so you can have a 'final reveal' once you're ready to go. You slip into your dress, and pull the heels onto your stockinged feet. You pick out a few pieces of gold jewelry to compliment the outfit, applying some light makeup with a glossy lip. You put your hair up in a ponytail, fanning out the ends a little.

When you return from the bathroom, you find Eddie standing fully dressed before you. And, hot damn, is he yummy. He's got one foot crossed over the other all suave-looking, his jacket held over his shoulder in one hand. His hair is tied back in a low ponytail, keeping the wild curls in line for a night. And the shirt...it's exactly what you pictured once he brought it out of the closet. It fits him well, showing off the muscles in his arms and chest, without being too tight. It's tucked neatly into his slacks, a couple of the top buttons left open to display the chain he never takes off.

"Fuckin' A, Eds. You look...wow." You're speechless, and about to bite a hole through your lip as you commit this image to memory.

"Likewise, princess. Very wow." Eddie teases with a smirk, though he's at a loss for more complex words himself. It's like night and day, going from ratty pajamas to puttin' on the ritz. To him, you look like a movie star. "Ready to paint the town, honey?" He asks, extending his ringed hand for you to take.

"I'll bring a brush." You quip, holding Eddie's hand and letting him lead you to the front door. You grab a jacket and your purse on the way out, giving Arwen a quick pat goodbye.

Eddie drives you to the restaurant, where you're promptly greeted and seated at a small table in the back of the dining room. Tea light candles in small red holders sit on the clean white tablecloth, silverware and empty glasses set out neatly. Eddie pulls out your chair for you, and you sit down and let him push you in once you've removed your jacket. He sits across from you, forcing himself not to slouch. The waiter takes your drink order, suggesting a bottle of wine. You agree with his recommendation, and he leaves you to look over the menu.

"Whatcha thinkin', angel?" Eddie asks, weighing his options. The steak sounds nice, but pasta wouldn't be too bad, either.

"The ravioli sounds good." You answer, your mouth watering at the idea of cheesy pockets of pasta in rich tomato sauce. "What about you?" Your eyes flick up to him.

"I was thinking steak." He replies, reaching across the table to take your free hand. It may be a small amount of distance, but he feels miles away from you. You take hold of him without a second thought, sharing the sentiment.

"Ooh, big spender." You tease, though your eyes widen a little when you glance at the prices for each cut of steak. Jesus, do they butcher the cow fresh, or something?

"It's not that bad. We can afford to splurge once in a while." Eddie chuckles, thinking nothing of it. You're not the only one who knows how to be thrifty where it counts, or likes to squirrel money away. You've earned this spendy night out, and then some.

"I know, love. And I'm so happy you brought me here tonight. It's perfect." You beam through the dim lighting, looking around at the other couples sitting all around you. Dressed to the nines in suits and sparkly dresses, dripping with gold and diamonds. The waiters flit about effortlessly, clearing tables, pouring wine, presenting meals. There's even a string quartet on the other side of the restaurant, playing romantic songs at an ambient volume.

"I'm glad you're having a good time, Y/N. I was a little worried you'd disappear into your own head again." He says, relieved that his romancing is working to ease your mind. You're a tough nut to crack at times, no matter what he does in order to console you.

"So was I. But I'm right here, in this wonderful place, with you." You reassure him that you aren't going anywhere, that you intend to be fully present with him tonight. He's put in so much effort to make this go right, and it wouldn't be fair to ruin that.

"Are you ready to order?" The waiter asks, pouring deep red wine into your glasses.

"Yes. I'll have the ribeye, medium-rare, with the corn and mashed potatoes." Eddie answers.

"And for you, miss?" The waiter turns to you.

"The ravioli, please." You say shortly.

"Wonderful. I'll put that in for you right away. Please, let me know if there's anything else I can get for you." The waiter says politely, before toddling off to give your order to the kitchen.

You and Eddie talk casually while you wait for your food to arrive, about small things. Like Arwen's next check-up, items you have to add to the grocery list, the need for a new set of sheets. Innocuous, domestic things. The air between you two is serene, and comfortable. You don't talk about work, or the wedding, or school. There's no need for the stressors in your life to invade this peaceful bubble you're floating around in.

The food arrives pretty quickly, and you don't hesitate to dive in. Politely, of course. You have no reason to gobble up your dinner like animals. You take your time, savoring every last delectable bite. You take small sips of wine to wash it down, you don't want to get drunk tonight. You want to be as clear-headed as you can for what comes after your return home. The waiter comes by again to collect your empty plates once you're stuffed full, asking if you want dessert. You decline, unable to have another bite. Eddie pays the check, and you leave arm in arm, with content smiles and satisfied stomachs.

"Fuck, that was good." Eddie says as you return to the apartment. He closes the door behind you, slipping his jacket off of his shoulders.

"Yes, it was, baby. But I think there's something even better waiting for you in the bedroom." You reply coyly.

"And what would that be?" He asks with a knowing grin.

"Me!" You laugh giddily, before dashing down the hall, prompting Eddie to chase you. You can hear him right behind you, his footfalls landing on the floor with rushed purpose as he cackles. You just barely make it in the room and jump on the bed with an excited squeal. Eddie's on you in seconds, chuckling darkly as he rolls you over and pins you to the bed.

"Gotcha." He grins, holding your wrists above your head, weighing you down with his lower half. He leans in to kiss you roughly, slipping his steak-stained tongue into your mouth.

"Mmm." You hum into the kiss, loving the way he's taking control of you like this. You've been craving it from the moment you saw him in his sexy new shirt. It took everything in you not to pounce on him earlier. His thigh slots between your legs, pushing your dress up as he rubs your clothed heat. "Eddie." You moan against his lips at the tease, rolling your hips up to get more friction. The curve of his thigh runs over your clit, making you gasp. Your new panties are quickly getting soaked, sure to leave a damp spot on his pants.

"Mmm, naughty girl." Eddie smirks at you essentially humping his leg, desperate for his touch in seconds flat. He takes his thigh away, much to your dismay. You whine at the loss of him, but he just gently shushes you. He holds your wrists together with one hand, reaching the other down to stroke your pussy through the satin. "Fuck, baby. You're such a mess. This all for me?" He asks, finding your swollen bud hiding under the sodden fabric and rubbing barely-there circles over it.

"Yes, love. All for you." You pant, your thighs begging to clamp shut and trap his hand in place.

"Let's get you outta this dress." Eddie says, reaching for the hem and pulling the garment up towards your head. It's tossed away to the floor, leaving you in the sexy lingerie he'd bought for you. His pupils go wide as saucers at the sight of you, his hands running along your sides to feel all your curves. "God, look at you. Wrapped up so nice for me, like a pretty little present." He purrs, fixated on your tits being pushed together in the bustier. His hand returns between your legs, making much more purposeful circles. The other goes to open the clasps concealing your breasts from him.

"Eddie." You moan at his touch on your clit again, watching helplessly as he exposes your tits for him. The bustier falls open, your boobs bouncing in their freedom. Eddie lowers his head to capture one of your hardened nipples in his mouth, causing your back to arch off the bed. Your hands rip the elastic from his hair, weaving your fingers in his thick tresses. You continue to moan aloud for him as his tongue rolls around your pebbled flesh and his finger rubs you through your drenched panties. "Baby...I-I need you..." You whine, wanting him to give you more. You're already burning up from the inside out, but it's not nearly enough.

"What do you need from me, sweetheart? Hm? Use your words." He smirks at you from his position on your chest.

"I need you out of these clothes, Eds. I wanna feel you." You answer impatiently, attempting to reach for the buttons on his shirt.

"Yeah? You wanna strip me down, princess?" He asks cooly, putting himself directly above you.

"Mhm." You nod, biting your lip in excitement.

"Knock yourself out." He chuckles at your eagerness, rolling you both over to put you on top. You straddle his lap, feeling his stiff erection inside his slacks. You waste no time in undoing the buttons of his shirt, pulling the tails out of his pants. He kicks off his shoes to help out a little, just as you've exposed his chest. You lean down to pay him back, planting searing kisses on his skin. You trace his tattoos with your tongue, biting on his nipples. Eddie breathes heavily, a small moan escaping him every so often in your worship.

"You're so gorgeous, Eds. I'll never get enough of this body." You praise, venturing lower to kiss down his stomach and towards his belt. You roll your hips over him, moaning as his shaft makes contact with your clit through the layers of fabric. Eddie groans beneath you, his hands gripping your waist to guide you. You fiddle around with his belt, not trying very hard to remove it as you grind into him. You keep going just like this for a few minutes, riling the both of you up. But it's still not enough to satisfy you. "I want you so bad, love. Need you inside me." With a newfound urgency, you finally manage to undo his belt and unzip his pants.

"I need you too, babydoll." Eddie says, no complaints on his end. He sits up to shuck his shirt from his torso, and kicks his slacks off his legs once you've pushed them down toward his ankles. You hook your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, yanking them down in one swift motion. His cock slaps against his stomach, heavy and swollen at the tip. You don't slow down, grabbing hold of him and getting up on your knees. Nevermind you're still wearing most of your ensemble, heels and all. You don't have time to care, you want to ride him now. You hastily pull your panties to the side, positioning yourself over Eddie's tip. "Fuck." He groans as you run his tip through your slick folds.

"Ready, baby?" You ask with a pleased grin, savoring how his fat cock feels running along your slit.

"Always." He nods, needing you to take him inside already. Your teasing is getting to be a bit much. Without another word, you slowly sink down on his dick. Low moans leave you both, your hands falling to his chest to hold yourself up, his own squeezing your hips. He fills you up entirely, reaching every single spot inside your cunt. Your walls clench around him once you bottom out, making Eddie mutter swears under his breath.

"Mmm, filling up my pussy just right, Eds. I fuckin' love your cock." You giggle happily, relieved to finally have what you've been wanting all damn day. What you've been wanting for weeks. Just you and him in your shared bed, with no one and nothing getting in the way. Staying fully seated on him, you rock your hips back and forth lazily. You want to enjoy this as much as you can. You capture Eddie's lips with yours, kissing him deeply, hungrily.

He hums against you, hands wandering to caress your back and sides, occasionally dipping down to massage the swells of your ass. Your tongues fight for dominance, though Eddie lets you win before long. With the way your pussy is squeezing him, he can't focus enough to put up a good fight. Your slow rocking makes him grow more and more needy, his gentle touches becoming harder and rougher. "Y/N, please. I need you to fuck me." Eddie groans, pulling away from your lips to breathe.

"Now who's impatient?" You tease, sitting up so you can start riding him. You lift yourself up, your ass smacking against his pelvis once you crash back down. "Fuck." You gasp as his tip hits your cervix. You start to bounce steadily on his dick, bracing your hands on his chest and gazing down at him as you moan.

"That's it, baby. Fuck, I love seeing you like this. Love seeing your pretty face, hearing your sexy noises. And the way your tits bounce, and my cock filling your hot, wet pussy. It's all so beautiful, sweetheart." Eddie says earnestly, his words dripping with lust. You truly are a vision above him, borderline angelic. Your head thrown back, face twisted in pleasure as you sing praises of his ample length piercing you again and again. And seeing your bottom half still clothed in the sexy pink set he bought you, the fact that you were too desperate for him to even take your shoes off. He could just about die.

"And I love giving you a show, Eds." You smile down at him, blushing at his admiration. You have quite the view yourself, Eddie's hair splayed out on the bed, his big brown eyes blown wide with want, his lips parted to moan and say filthy things to you. He's such a talker in bed, which you adore immensely. Anyone else even attempting to do so would be like nails on a chalkboard to you. But Eddie's mastered the art, knowing what words to use, which ones to avoid. He can predict what occasions call for sweeter phrasings, which opportunities require downright obscene revelations. You attribute this to his impeccable story-telling abilities. Whether it's an elaborate D&D campaign, or trying to make you cum, his mouth instinctively knows all the right things to say.

You keep up like this, riding his cock like it's your day job. You don't go too fast, you don't want either of you to cum so soon. But it's a consistent, steady pace that allows you to feel every inch of each other. You can't stop moaning and cursing, the sound mingling with the thick slapping of skin on skin. Your bodies sweat as pleasure builds inside of you, the temperature in the room rapidly reaching a thousand degrees.

"Mind if I have a turn, sweetheart?" Eddie asks. He's having the time of his life letting you take the wheel, but he notices your movements becoming a bit strained after a while. He can tell when you're running out of steam, and he's more than willing to lend a hand.

"You know me too well, Eds." You let out a breathlessly laugh, thankful he's going to take over. Much as you enjoy riding him like a stallion, your thighs are burning as you've reached your limit. You still yourself, laying your body on his so he can roll you both over to take the reigns. His knees push up to spread your thighs open for him, propping himself on his elbows to close you in. He knows what you want, to be completely surrounded by him.

"Better?" He asks, stroking your hip as he checks in on you.

"Much better, love. Thank you." You nod gratefully, giving him a warm kiss.

"'Course." He says quietly against your lips, continuing to kiss you heavily. He doesn't start moving just yet, enjoying this intimate moment with you. You're nearly melting into the bed as he envelops you entirely, tenting your knees at his hips to fully close the seal he's created. His scent takes over your nose, spicy cologne and coconut shampoo mingling with sweat. Eddie lowers his lips to your neck, methodically ravishing your flesh. You cling to his back with your hands, nails digging into the skin. Sensing your want for him to get things going again, he slowly pulls out, before slipping back inside.

"Oh, Eddie..." You sigh as his cock pumps in and out in tender strokes. Every sedate thrust reads as a passionate declaration of love. Eddie keeps marking up your neck, holding your waist in his large hands as he pumps his hips. He's gonna take his time, build you up so agonizingly slow, that you're screaming his name once you finally come crashing down. "Feels so good, baby." You say softly, your eyes falling closed in bliss. Your arms have fully wrapped around him now, needing to hold him as closely as possible.

"Yeah? You like it when I take it slow with you?" He asks sweetly, licking warm circles around a purple hickey he's left on you.

"Mhm, I love being so close to you. It's like we become something bigger, together." You reply, your voice content, the words like silk on your tongue.

"And I thought I had a way with words." Eddie chuckles, lifting his head to look in your eyes. His pelvis still pivots into yours, but he adopts a slightly faster, rougher speed. Just enough to really get you going.

"Fuck, baby." You whimper as his cock hits your g-spot more precisely. You can't stop staring up at him, entranced by his adoring eyes. His body shifts back and forth above you with every thrust, and you can picture how his length looks disappearing inside your cunt. You're absolutely drenched around him, you have been the entire time. And the method he's employing only makes you wetter by the second. Your arousal slicks over him repeatedly, forming a sticky ring around the base of him.

"You're so wet, sweetheart. Always keeps me slidin' in and out so smooth." He says lowly, every syllable sounding comparable to Shakespearian poetry to your keen ears.

"And only you can make me this way, Eds. With your perfect lips..." You brush your fingertips across his mouth. "...your thick fingers..." You take one of his hands in your own, interlacing your fingers and squeezing gently. "...and your massive cock." You clench your walls around him on purpose, making him gasp. You giggle when he falters in his thrusts, but his eyes never leave you for a second. "You make me feel amazing, baby." You squeeze his hand again, earning one back.

"God, I love you." Eddie says hurriedly, pressing his lips to yours.

"I love you too, Eddie." You pant through the gaps in this breathless kiss. Eddie picks up speed again, your chest arching up into his. He's still not going nearly as fast as he usually does, but it's blowing your mind all the same. His hips roll with determination, hitting your sweet-spot every single time. "Don't stop, love. This一 fuck, this feels really good." You whimper, further clinging onto him.

"I won't ever stop unless you ask me to, princess." He grunts, not changing a single thing about what he's doing. If it's even possible, you're more soaked than before. He keeps going, pistoning his dick inside your pussy with the same motivation you'd had earlier on.

"Yes, yes, yes...God, Eddie...you fuck me so good." Messy utterances babble from your lips, you've gone completely cock-drunk. You know you're getting close, and Eddie does, too.

"Take it, baby, s'all for you. Such a good girl for me, can't wait for you to soak my cock." Eddie groans, his words flowing right into your ear as his head falls to rest beside your own.

"Keep going, love. I'm getting close." Your legs wrap around his middle, high heels digging into the apex of his back as you pull him closer.

"Me too, angel." He huffs against your neck, pinning your hand to the bed and interlocking his fingers with yours again. He thrusts himself into you with the tiniest bit more force, nearing his end as his balls start tightening.

"Fuck! Right there!" You whine, your orgasm creeping closer by the second. Your insides are doing their tell-tale convulsions, letting the beautiful man above you know what's about to happen.

"Go ahead, sweetheart. Cum for me." He purrs, bringing his other hand down to rub quick circles on your clit. His words and the added contact are all you need to explode into smithereens.

"Oh, Eddie...oh, god!" You hold onto Eddie for dear life as your high takes you over. Your entire body trembles, cries of ecstasy ripping from your lungs. Your pussy pulses and constricts around his cock, and you cum harder than you have in a while. Juices spurt out of you, drenching Eddie's length, wetting your thighs and the bed.

"Good girl, make a big mess for me." Eddie almost growls, his eyes rolling back at your cunt hosing him down. He keeps thrusting to meet his end, hips bucking wildly as his stomach finally tenses up. "Fuck, Y/N..." You feel his thick cum fill you up, your pleasure extended as he rides his out. He collapses on top of you once he's done, pressing whispers of kisses on your cheeks, neck, and shoulders. "Happy Valentine's Day, babydoll. I love you so much." Eddie says softly, unable to fully remove his mouth from you.

"I love you too, Eds. Happy Valentine's Day." You reply, still floating weightlessly on cloud nine. You stroke his hair with your fingers, rumbling hums vibrating in his chest when you rub his scalp. Eddie carefully pulls his softened cock out of you, watching your mixed release ooze from your cunt. He licks his lips hungrily, lowering his head between your legs. Looks like he's found dessert. "Eddie!" You yelp in surprise as his tongue licks through your folds, your clit still sparking.

"I'm not nearly done with you yet, sweetheart." Eddie says darkly, his hooded eyes flicking up to look at you. The intense hunger in his pupils tells you it's going to be a long night. And you have no objections whatsoever.

To be continued…