#and some people want it shoved in their face (ME!)

[witch-hazels-musings]

seeing you get hit

Genre: angst/comfort NEUVILLETTE x GN reader  |  Anthology warning: the reader is punched in the face, kicked (2xs), mention of pain and discomfort / Mesulines are treated unkindly and spoken too derogatorily / Neuvillette obliterates a guy (oh also you wake up in his bed -- fufu) Synopsis: *character* becomes progressively worried about you not returning - as the hours tick by, they notice a commotion has started and find you in distress as they check it out. Quickly they head to where you were and, well, their reaction to seeing you being accosted by someone in the middle of the city, let’s just say they took matters into their own hands

"Sir, please calm down," you said, raising your hands to appease the irate man waving about. You moved to position yourself between him and the Melusine and could feel her trembling as she latched onto your clothes.

"How dare you raise your voice to me!" he shouted, swatting at your hands, forcing you to shuffle backward toward the canal. With how tightly the Melusine stood beside you, it became increasingly difficult to not trip over her.

"I can see you're angry -"

"I'm not angry, I'm annoyed. I want an apology from that - that thing, now!" He jutted his hand toward the Melusine and she hid further behind your leg. Rage billowed off him like salty wind on the high seas, every transgression equalling small cuts that made you wince. You knew there were those who dislike the Melusines, but you never had the disgusting privilege of meeting one - until now.

"I did say I was sorry, sir," she mumbled, to terrified to speak louder than a gentle caress of water over shallow rocks.

"There, will that satisfy you?" you asked, hand against his chest to keep him from moving closer. He locked eyes with you, shoulders heaving, face flush and red. His stare darted between you and her, back and forth, increasing in frustration. You moved until he couldn't see her at all. "Leave."

His lips curled into a feral sneer. "You think you're bravely protecting it, huh? If it's so important, let it face me-"

"Her."

"What?"

"I'm protecting her."

Rage swept over him and, without thinking, you shoved the Mesuline to the side and took the full force of his blow.

---

Neuvillette made his way through the crowd, chin lifted as he carefully took in the people. Some smiled at him, others bowed their heads in dutiful respect. He minded neither, but returned their gestures with a kind nod.

He rarely had intentions when he wandered through the city. It was typical for him to meander like a slow moving river carving a lazy path to nowhere in particular but today he felt a strong desire to happen upon someone. You. One who had grown rather close to him over the last several months, one who, at times, would come by to, 'check in on him,' while he worked, one who found a habit of leaving bottles of mineral-rich water on his desk when he was away. He found your company, pleasing.

Though, so far, his unassuming searching had come up empty. Did you make mention of leaving Fontaine today? He couldn't remember.

Near the canal, frustrated voices billowed on the wind. A crowd had formed in a rather unusual way. He stared, unable to see through the bunched people when something tugged on his leg.

Neuvillette pushed through the crowd. They jumped out of the way and tripped over themselves to allow him through while he looked ahead at the sight beyond their breach and felt the blackness of the sea consume him.

"Monsieur Neuvillette!" the Mesuline shouted, her eyes filled with worry.

---

"Are you okay?" The Mesuline asked, her face inches from yours as you coughed and blinked through the white. A high-pitched ring clogged your ears so you opened your mouth to clear the noise only to gasp at the pain it caused.

"You stupid -- so desperate to go down with those fucking things? Fine!" The man shouted. You looked his way just in time to see his leg fly toward your stomach. It sent you careening into the stone pathway and knocked the Mesuline halfway into the water. You tried to grab her, but she slipped from your grip when you landed on your arm, it bent unnaturally in your tumble. You cried out but that didn't stop him from slamming his foot into your chest.

Gasping, you rolled onto your back and stared at the blinding sky. It hurt to breathe, hurt to think. The Mesuline rushed toward you and you lifted a shaking arm to block them from the man's wrath.

People screamed and rushed forward to grab the man as his foot came down toward you but all you saw was radiant blue rising toward the sky, and from its shimmer came the rain.

A massive wave rose from the canal and covered the land in a shallow, unmoving layer of crystal-clear water. You could make out the bodies of onlookers but they seemed frozen, more like mirages, glistening in quiet stasis. The buildings of Fontaine reflected in the mirror-like water, making your stomach flip, but the hovering figure in the eerie blue turned your skin cold.

"What is - what's happening?" the man asked, panic seeping from him as he searched for familiar ground. He looked at his feet only to shout and stumble onto his backside. "Monsters! I told you! Those things are monsters!" He pointed to the Mesuline who was now securely tucked against your chest. She trembled, buried her face against you and held on so tightly it made you wince.

"You are mistaken," a voice said and the water fluttered, every droplet alight with energy it couldn't bear. "I am the monster you seek."

Through bleary, rain-blinded eyes, you watched the figure descend before the man and, when it was close enough, you recognized its face.

Neuvillette.

Beads of water lept from the basin to reach him like hands pawing to touch even a thread of their so-called God. You could sense the energy in the shallow pool, feel it in every drop of rain that cascaded across your face but none of it touched Neuvillette. He remained - unaffected.

"Iudex ..." the man said, his voice barely audible even in the strange quiet. Senses returning to him, he scrambled to a low, deep bow and splayed his hands beneath Neuvillette's hovering feet. "Monsieur, please, this is all just a terrible mistake."

"Have the rules of Order been unclear to you?"

"I - I don't understand."

"Your crime has been witnessed by many and yet, you stand before me, denying all accusations?"

"P-Please, Monsieur. T-they attacked me, I was just defending myself."

"It appears communication with the accused is going poorly. I shall afford you one final chance before I render judgment."

"Judgement? What-you can't!" The man stood and came up to Neuvillette's hips. "You may be the Iudex, but you can't sentence me! I deserve to be tried. You'll see - you'll see then it was all a mistake."

Neuvillette glanced your way, his eyes narrowing. When he looked back at the man, all the color drained from his face. "By order of -"

"No, wait! Please!" The man raised his hands and Neuvillette did the same.

"I render you, guilty." Power boiled below the surface and set the world rumbling. "Bow your head, and be sanctified," Neuvillette said and with his judgment, a pillar of water burst from below and consumed the man until there was nothing left.

When the waters receded, Neuvillette made his way to you. Each step steady, measured, undisturbing of the waters beneath him. He knelt at your side, laid one hand on your forehead and another on the trembling Melusine who hid further against your body.

"Neu --" you said, pain taking your voice.

"I am here," he hummed and you fell away like the tide.

---

When you awoke, you found yourself surrounded by lapping silk. Cool fabric warmed by your body heat. It hurt to lift yourself up, but only slightly. It seemed your mind remembered the pain of the day before while your body didn't. You touched your chin but it felt normal.

"I see you are awake," a voice echoed in the room but you couldn't see them. Giant rods on each corner of the bed held up a royal curtain that obscured your vision.

You were tempted to slip free from the sheets when the pitter-patter of feet held you in place and from the nothing several Melusines rushed to greet you. Each was more excited than the last. They swarmed you with thanks and laughter, sweeping you up in their joyous voices.

Another being appeared near the edge of the bed, except his presence made you go still. He moved gracefully to sit beside you and instinctually you moved so he had more room. He noticed.

Neuvillette frowned. "I have frightened you," he said, sorrowful as dropped his gaze.

"What? No, I'm not -" You reached for him then pulled back at the last minute. He noticed. "I'm not afraid of you. I swear."

He contemplated your reply for what felt like forever before nodding in acceptance. "I hope you do not mind the accommodations. I had little place else to take you."

You tried to not think about it too much. It was almost certain this was - as you now suspected - his room. "It's fine," you replied and hoped the shadows didn't betray the heat rising in your cheeks.

"I am pleased to hear." Neuvillette smiled and let his eyes drift to the Mesulines surrounding you. "I believe thanks are in order."

"You're the one who saved me though."

"That may be true, yet it was you who protected the Mesulines, was it not?"

Your palm went flush against one of their backs. You didn't think much at the time, it was just - "It was the only thing to do."

"Indeed," he said, his eyes soft, kind, and fixed on your own. You dropped them under the pressure only for your heart to stop when his hand cupped your chin so he could look at you again. "I am grateful."

You looked at him, tried to breathe, tried to force words - any words - through your throat but all you could manage were several shallow nods to which he responded by running his finger across your cheek - leaving you drowning.

[loulovingho]

I need to… not care for a little bit. I’ve spent the majority of today scrolling and going through waves of disbelief, to sadness, to full on ache in my chest, to laughing at the sheer insanity of it all. I’ve barely eaten today, which is not me. I didn’t sleep last night. I know it’s so ridiculous because this is a tv show for crying out loud, but I’ve mentioned before that it kinda saved me. I started watching not long after my dad passed and it got me out of a really bad place. It made me want to write again, made me laugh and cry and feel things.

And now it feels like I’ve been stomped on. I know the show doesn’t owe me a thing, but the interviews with Tim and Oliver really got to me even moreso than the breakup itself. The nonchalance of it all. The way Oliver doesn’t seem to care about what Buck and Tommy meant to so many people. How he wants Buck to revert to his old ways, how he casually threw out that we wouldn’t see Tommy again. The way Tim talked Tommy up so much to kinda throw him aside in the end. And then Lou’s interviews were just sad. He put so much care and thought into Tommy, he deserved more. He was there for more than a paycheck, and they screwed him over.

I’ll get over it, I know. I keep telling myself it’s just a show, it doesn’t matter. But it still hurts that they didn’t even let us react to the breakup before shoving the fact that Tommy and Lou were done in our faces.

I’d love it if Tim made a statement of some kind, even if it’s telling us to get over it. I mean, he was the one posting the positive Tommy articles and the video asking if Buck’s found his perfect match. He kinda built this all up just to burn it to the ground. It’d be nice to know why. If Buddie fans get a long explanation as to why a 10 second karaoke clip was cut, I feel like we deserve something.

Anyway, I need to not be here. I need to not let this depress me. I need to remember what I thought about as I fell asleep before it was all fanfiction running through my head. I’m gonna try a day, to start. See if I can go longer. Focus on something else. As long as I’m here I’m gonna keep getting re-upset and overanalyzing every little thing.

Feel free to send me asks though! Let me know if anything happens! I’ll be back when it hurts a little less! 😘

[mywhisperingwords]

a touch that never hurts | fred g. weasley

summary: you seem to have fallen for your best friend, which you could handle if only he didn’t constantly touch you word count: 3.2k masterlist

It was official: you were stupid.

Only a complete idiot would fall for their best mate and here you’ve gone and done it. Because there was no other explanation for this feeling in your stomach as you looked across the Great Hall and watched Fred Weasley tell some stupid joke to his friends and wishing nothing more than to be the one he told the joke to.

He wasn’t even supposed to be here; just earlier today, Snape had given him detention.

While working on the assigned potion, he decided to mix things up to make you laugh after your bad day.

Before class started Snape decided to ruin the day and give everyone’s essays back. You flunked. Hard. After a big explosion and an awful lecture from Snape, any of Fred’s afternoon plans were ruined. For you.

You stood there, frozen in shock, trying to figure out how to go on with your life from here.

But how could you? This realization felt like the worst thing that’s ever happened to you—right after becoming friends with Fred Weasley himself.

You must’ve stood frozen in place for too long because he caught your eye and was now waving you over with his typical charming smile while the people around him were continuing their conversation, oblivious to the turmoil inside you. You briefly considered turning around and running away, but you decided against it. That would make this situation even more awkward than it already was.

Taking a deep breath and mustering a wobbly smile, you made your way over to the Gryffindor table. You exchanged greetings with your friends and headed toward a seat, hoping to get as far away from Fred as you could. But, of course, Fred had other plans. With a grin, he shoved Lee aside and proudly declared the seat next to him as free.

Bloody hell, he was making it hard for you. It’s as if he knew and wanted to torture you now that you had finally realized your true feelings. Feelings that didn’t actually exist; denial was your new best friend.

With no other choice, other than making this one hell of an uncomfortable situation for everyone, you reluctantly sat down next to him, trying to put as much distance between you two as possible.

But to no avail. As soon as you sat down Fred swung his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. “Thank Merlin you’re here. Could you be a darling and tell our idiotic friends that Snape does in fact secretly love me and that is the only reason he so often chooses to see me after class?”

‘Darling’ and ‘secretly loves me’, seemed to be the only thing your brain registered, not to mention that arm still wrapped around you. Has he always been this physically affectionate with you? It was hard to remember because Fred was looking at you expectantly as if he were waiting for something and…

Finally, your brain catches up, “Oh, that my dear Fred, is what we call detention. And wouldn't you know it, you're supposed to be there... like right now!" You playfully glanced at your imaginary wristwatch.

You could practically see the second he realized you were right. In a hurry, he jumped up from his seat and snatched the last food from his plate. But there was something important he seemed to have forgotten.

With a grin, you asked him, "Aren't you forgetting something?" Confusion washed over his face as he turned back to the table, searching for what he had missed, not finding anything. After a brief moment, he leaned down and surprised you with a kiss on your cheek. Speechless and mouth agape, you watched as the rest of the table erupted in snickers.

"You git!" you exclaimed, feeling your cheeks burn. "I meant your wand!"

Instead of being flustered like you, Fred found the whole situation hilarious. He joined in laughter with his friends and sent you a playful wink. With a glint in his eye, he swiftly retrieved his wand and innocently exclaimed, "Oops!" before making a speedy exit from the Great Hall.

Still trying to process what just happened, you turned to your friends, hoping they could provide the distraction and peace of mind you desperately needed.

Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, George decided to torture you. With a grin, he leaned in and asked if you've figured it out yet. Your whole body tensed up, and you found yourself desperately wishing for an escape.

In your horrified state, you managed to stammer out a weak, "W-What?" The anticipation of his response hung heavy in the air, and you braced yourself for the worst.

George burst into laughter, which echoed through the Great Hall, making everything feel ten times worse. You couldn’t help but feel exposed, as if your deepest secrets were on display for everyone to see.

Through his laughter, George managed to squeeze out, "Bloody hell. Looks like someone forgot the essay for McGonagall that's due tomorrow."

You breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that he had no idea. How could he? You yourself just figured it out. And you’d do anything to keep it that way. You won’t tell a soul about any of it and just pretend that things were normal.

✧

How naive could you be? How in your right mind could you ever think that keeping this from Fred was a possibility?

He knew you better than you knew yourself.

No matter how hard you tried to keep things like always it just wouldn’t go your way. First everything was completely normal, nothing out of the ordinary. You two would banter and share jokes. But as soon as he touched you in any way you panicked and run away from him.

You hadn’t realized how often he reached for you. It apparently had become like second nature for him.

At first you noticed the small touches, like accidentally bumping shoulders while walking together or him gently tapping your arm to get your attention.

But it was the larger gestures that pushed you to your breaking point, stirring up your traitorous heart even more. Like when he reached out and grabbed your hand in the bustling crowd of students during a visit to Hogsmead.

But the absolute worst was when he would slide in next to you, casually drape his arm around your shoulder and pull you close, all while effortlessly engaging in conversation with someone else. And what made it even more unbearable was that no one seemed to bat an eye. It was as if this physical closeness was an unspoken agreement between the two of you, that no one remembered to inform you about.

But as much as you tried to subtly keep your distance you could tell that Fred knew something was wrong. He saw it in the way you would purposefully choose to sit the furthest away from him even when the seat next to him was unoccupied.

You saw the confusion in his eyes when you started to avoid going to Hogsmead with the excuse of finishing your school work. He knew that this was never something that stopped you from spending time with him or your friends.

Since that first year you met Fred on the train, he’d been a constant presence in your life. You stumbled upon Fred and George pulling a prank on their older brother Percy. Instead of telling on them, you decided to join in on the mischief. As a result, Percy ended up with boils all over his face. From that moment on, you and Fred became inseparable. So, when you suddenly started pulling away without any explanation, it felt like the most awful thing you could do to him.

And you could tell that it was hurting Fred too. He wasn't the type to wear his heart on his sleeve; in fact, quite the opposite. But after all the years you've known him, you were priding yourself on understanding him better than most people in his life. He would never outright admit it, but your actions were causing him pain.

He would extend his hand, reach out, but as soon as he noticed that you turned away from him, he would pull back. In that fleeting moment, you could see the hurt and confusion reflected in his eyes, mirroring the hurt you were experiencing.

He even attempted to talk about it once. Normally, he would rely on laughter to uplift your spirits rather than delve into the realm of emotions. So when he approached you before your class, specifically to ask if you were okay, it created an awkward conversation for the both of you. All you could do was promise him, that if anything was wrong, you’d tell him.

What a lie.

His genuine concern shattered your heart. But it wasn't just him who could sense that something was off. You noticed how your friends would exchange worried glances every time you came up with a new excuse to avoid spending time with Fred.

Being around him became an unbearable risk, fearing that he might somehow discover your true feelings for him. It wasn’t just a simple crush; your feelings ran deeper, more intense.

Every time you witnessed his infectious laughter or his ability to light up the entire room with his jokes, a swarm of butterflies erupted in your stomach, consuming you from within. The guilt of keeping such a significant secret from him and the rest of your friends gnawed at you. But the thought of confessing your feelings and potentially jeopardizing everything held you back.

It has gotten to the point where you chose to spend your free time in the library. You knew that he would never step foot inside of it. So this place became your sanctuary.

But you should’ve known better. Fred Weasley may not be an overly emotional person but he was stubborn to no end.

One night after dinner, that ended with you leaving the table as soon as possible and an excuse, truthful this time, to do your unfinished homework you returned to the only place that felt safe from Fred.

There were only a few students left in the library. You grabbed your Charms Book and settled into a quiet corner, hoping to review your homework for Professor Flitwick.

But your silence was soon disturbed by the one person you wanted to avoid. Which was not entirely true.

The situation hurt, but you couldn’t help wanting to see him — even if only from afar.

Fred appeared to be searching for you because the moment your eyes met, he marched over to where you were sitting.

"Back to doing homework, huh?" he asked, glancing at your table.

"Actually, yes," you replied honestly.

“Oi, sod off. I know you mostly just sit here doing nothing — Lee saw you, you know?” he said.

“I don’t know what Lee thinks he saw but that’s not the truth. This is a library. I study,” you argued.

“Listen, I know you’ve been avoiding me. And I have no idea what I could’ve done. You’ve been blowing me off left and right. You’re being pretty obvious and I think it’s time we had this discussion.”

You stared at him, eyes wide open. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I already told you, everything is fine.”

“Come off it! We’ve been friends for years and I know when something’s off. You’ve been avoiding me and you have been for weeks. I’m done pretending like I don’t know that. And things aren’t fine since you won’t tell me what it is. What’s this really about?” his voice was low, but you could feel his anger seeping through.

But you couldn’t tell him; too much was at stake. You’d lose your best friend. Even the thought alone was too much to bear.

“Fred, please. I just… I can’t explain it to you,” you pleaded.

“Why the hell not? I’m your friend!” You appreciated his concern, but his persistence was becoming overwhelming. “If everything truly was fine you wouldn’t be hiding here all the time! What’s going on?” he demanded, clearly just wanting answers, answers you couldn’t give him.

“I really can’t tell you. Please, I’m begging you, let it go.” Keeping this from him was killing you. You felt awful holding this secret from him. Deep inside you entertained the notion that he felt the same, but doubts held you back. It was pain-filled hiding something so important from a person that meant so much to you. You wished that he felt the same way, but fear gripped you tight.

Fred's anger was palpable, evident from the fury etched on his face. Madam Pince was shooting both of you disapproving glances. You secretly hoped that she would kick you out, giving you an excuse to escape this conversation.

“No, I’m not giving up. I deserve answers and I’m not leaving until I get them, understood?” He defiantly took a seat right in front of you.

You remained silent, refusing to speak another word. The more he pushed, the harder it became to keep this from him.

“I’ve got all night. Nowhere else to be,” he stated, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on you. Still refusing to speak, you turned your attention back to your essay, hoping he would eventually relent.

After a few minutes, he broke the silence. His voice now calm and his expression blank. No trace of anger or irritation. It almost seemed like he had come to accept the situation.

“Maybe this is for the best. You clearly don’t want to talk to me, so I’ll guess I won’t bother you anymore,” he said in a monotone voice, before he abruptly stood up and started to walk away, not looking back once.

Hot panic was surging through your veins and in an instant you jumped up, to go after him. Realizing that you were about to lose him either way, you took a chance.

“I like you!” The words echoed through the quiet library, their volume seemingly too loud for the stillness around you. He paused in his tracks, but didn't turn around. Unable to see his reaction, you continued, thinking maybe it was better this way, shielded from the potential disgust his face might reveal.

"I like you, and I'm really sorry, okay? I just need some time to sort things out and get over these feelings. I promise, but right now, I can't be around you. Not right now. That's why I've been avoiding you. Please, please don't hate me," with every word, your desperation spilled out, raw and unfiltered, while your eyes began to burn.

As Fred slowly turned around, his expression was unreadable, and it felt like everything was falling apart. Immediate regret was filling you up. Maybe, if you would’ve stayed silent and kept on ignoring what was going on inside of you, there would have been a chance to mend the friendship later on. But now, it felt like it might be too late.

“You like me?” he asked, his voice filled with bewilderment.

“Please, don’t make me say it again,” you pleaded, feeling overwhelmed by the situation.

His expression slowly transformed into a wide smile, "You're not kidding. You actually like me?"

Confused and feeling a sense of panic, you asked, "Why are you smiling at me like that?"

Fred's grin widened, making him look like a complete idiot, "I can't control it. You've just made me the happiest person in the world. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been hoping to hear those words?"

Silence filled the air. Your heart skipped a beat. "What?"

“I like you too, I was just waiting for you to catch up,” he confessed with a soft grin, his hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

"So, that's why you were always touching me?" you asked, trying to make sense of it all.

He let out a loud laugh, quickly quieted by a stern look from Madam Pince. He sent her an apologetic smile before refocusing on you and speaking in a hushed tone.

"And here I thought I was being smooth about it. I've been trying to let you know for a while now, actually."

“Bloody hell. You mean you felt the same all this time? Why on earth didn't you say anything?" You were in disbelief, feeling like you were in a dream. Maybe you had dozed off while reading about The History and Evolution of Enchantments and Charms Throughout the Ages.

"Well, why didn't you?" he asked.

"You've got me there," you said with a quiet laugh, looking down at the ground. After a moment of silence, you glanced up and saw him smiling softly at you.

"So... what's the plan now?" you asked, seeking some clarity.

"You like me, I like you. It's pretty clear, isn't it?" he responded.

You squinted your eyes at him, still not fully convinced.

"Now I can touch you as much as I want, and you can't escape anymore," he said with a mischievous grin, taking a step closer until he stood right in front of you.

"Oh, Merlin. You're a git," you exclaimed, unable to hold back a laugh. "Why on earth do I like you again?"

“Because I’m just that irresistible, obviously,” he laughed, joining in with you.

You placed your hand on his chest and playfully gave him a nudge. But before you could pull away, he surprised you by grabbing your hand. As you looked down at his hand enveloping yours, he posed a question. "So, about you admitting you like me... do you wanna back that up with a kiss?"

"Mhm, I'll have to think about that," you teased, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not sure if you deserve it, to be honest."

He grinned cheekily and retorted, "Oh, I definitely deserve it. What have I ever done to not deserve it?"

“Let’s try and remember. Just last week you-”

As you were about to list all the things he had done, he surprised you again by silencing your words with a passionate kiss. In that moment, your thoughts faded into insignificance, consumed by the intensity of the kiss. His hand gently caressed your cheek, deepening the connection between you. Your emotions were running wild, and it felt as if your body was ablaze.

After a moment or an hour, he pulled back, and you took a deep breath, trying to regain your composure. Opening your eyes, you gazed up at him.

"Sorry, I interrupted you. What were you saying?" he asked, his playful tone laced with a hint of mischief.

“I can’t remember,” you murmured, connecting your lips with his once more.

You’d been wrong all along—falling for your best friend might have been the best idea of all.

[bramblebeau]

Alright I told myself I wouldn't interact with fandom when s2 came out, and I haven't and don't plan to except to say this about people deciding Caitlyn is the Worst or that the writing is OOC.

As someone who has had a family member violently killed, I cannot stress how much it shakes up everything you thought you were and stood for. My beliefs in proportionate compassionate justice and the rights of all human beings are some of the strongest I have (stronger now because of the way that experience affected me personally), but they were pushed to the absolute limit when it came to an individual who had killed my loved one, showed no remorse, and laughed in our faces outside court, among other things.

People generally like to believe it wouldn't be them or their peace-loving family members being talked down from seriously considering violent revenge, consequences be damned. People like to believe they wouldn't lash out at people closest to them under that pressure, that they wouldn't build walls around the kindest and most sensitive parts of themselves because those parts are the ones feeling pain you never thought possible, that they wouldn't stalk the killer, make notes on all their family and friends, and fuck up their hands punching walls in anger wishing so badly it was flesh and bone because they can't handle the fact that there's no way to turn back time to stop it all from happening. People like to think they're "better" than that. But the reality is messy and painful as hell.

With Caitlyn, she has the added guilt of having actually had the opportunity to stop Jinx before she fired the rocket, but she hesitated just long enough for it to result in the deaths of her mother and other councillors and in the cities being plunged into chaos. Not only that, but the person close to her she's lashing out at is the person who caused her to hesitate, and just so happens to be the sister of the killer.

Furthermore, her behaviour is entirely in character. We have seen her set up as someone who becomes obsessed with achieving a goal and will do pretty much anything she wants to get there. In S1, we agreed with her methods because her goal was exposing and taking down Silco, and because it led to Vi being released. In S2, she's doing a similar thing but it's fuelled by fear and a type of pain she doesn't know how to deal with, rather than being fuelled by a need to prove herself and solve a case, and it leads to her making morally questionable decisions and to hurting Vi. She admits herself, albeit privately to Vi, that she does not know what she's doing and doesn't know how to fill this hole in her chest (and the hole in the city leadership). She has been sheltered from the real world for almost all her life, and as a result she has no experience of functioning or making decisions under this kind of pressure. The real world blew up in her face in the worst way and she was given power and a loaded rifle, and then shoved into an even more elevated position by a very experienced warlord who is manipulating the shit out of the whole situation.

I'm not saying that you have free rein to hurt people when you're grieving and facing extreme stress. (If you think that's what I'm saying then idk I'm not sure there's much hope for you in terms of critical thinking skills). What I'm saying is that Caitlyn is exhibiting pretty normal human behaviour that most people would be susceptible to in those circumstances, not the behaviour of someone who is some kind of heartless abusive bastard.

TLDR: Caitlyn is being written in a way that completely makes sense and is also not OOC, and if someone told me there would be no chance of them reacting in similar ways I simply would not believe them.

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

my palms ran red turning over jagged rocks, thought i'd find some kind of sign; you pressed your mouth to my wound, weren't your bloody lips sign enough?

qh43 x reader: you really have to stop meeting like this.

(warnings: mostly plot, but also blasphemous filth (yes, we're back on the smut train), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (i haven't changed), choking (i really haven't changed), descriptions of self-doubt and shame and all my typical stuff. mostly tension building (10k words worth), general debauchery.  please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: oh my god, favorites. i hadn't read this one in so long, so thank you for allowing me an avenue to rediscover it. i'm so happy you're getting to rediscover it now, too. if you want a song to listen to that i think goes with this story really well, give BONES! by girly teeth club a try :) i do genuinely believe that this story was a real turning point for me, and it holds a very special place in my heart because of that (i had the line then who was i praying to? well, who answered? taped to my computer for a long, long time. personal favorite of mine). i hope you enjoy this one again, and also hello to the followers and readers who have no idea what i'm talking about when i bitch and moan about my old account. i see you, and i love you, and i'm so eager to hear what you think. enjoy mechanic qh43 and all of the mythical divine powers that he inspires within me. to the seven people who care, more ol and rus coming momentarily. sunday is now my designated tumblr day, so if you want to chat, sunday is your best bet. i love you and your snakes! be kind to yourself).

like most all-consuming things, it started with something insignificant.

if your tail light had never gone out during the summer before your third year at university, perhaps none of it would have ever happened. part of you wanted to believe that some determined power would have guided the two of you together no matter what, but most of you thought the powers of the world to be nonchalant at best, hostile at worst.

regardless, your right tail light went out a few weeks before school started, and despite your intense unwillingness to spend money on your car, your mom insisted that you get it fixed.

"that family auto shop will do it quickly," she suggested, "the one a few streets down from school."

so here you were, standing uncomfortably in the lobby of the mechanic's, less than soothed by the harsh noises that echoed through the small garage.

you cleared your throat, attempting to get the attention of the teenage receptionist, probably the daughter or cousin of the owner, currently on her phone.

she looked up immediately, smiled wide, full of braces and friendliness. "sorry," she said, only a little guilty to be caught on her phone. "how can i help you?"

you smiled right back at her, immediately put at ease by her presence. "my mom called earlier," you said. you went to continue, but were enthusiastically cut off.

"miss tail light!" she exclaimed, to which you laughed and nodded. "have a seat," she urged, "quinn should be out in a minute, and that's a quick fix."

you nodded and sat down, then crossed your legs as you waited, bouncing one foot against your other calf. you looked at your hands, twisted one ring around your finger.

"you're the tail light?" a low voice called from the lobby entrance, forcing your gaze up from your hands to meet a pair of eyes that somehow swam with both steel and uncertainty.

this newcomer, quinn, supposedly, confirmed by the embroidered patch on his breast pocket, seemed to be immediately off-put by your matching gaze, as he shoved his wide hands in the pockets of his coveralls and blinked several times, a bit too fast.

his confusing mannerisms, combined with his curious combination of handsomeness and beauty, forced a small smile to your face as you stood up.

he really was pretty like you had never quite seen before, tall but not menacingly so, broad across the chest in a way that just looked warm, his coveralls hanging off of him, drawing attention to his frame, his thighs, his arms.

his hair was messy, curling only slightly at the tops of his ears, his cheekbones and jawline so, so sharp, but his nose and mouth softly curved.

you cleared your throat again when you realized you were probably staring.

"i suppose i am," you said, answering his question, approaching him and the door, by extension.

he gave a forced nod before turning to leave, urging a fluid reaction from the muscles in his neck and shoulders, which you pretended not to notice as you walked behind him.

in a choppy, sudden motion, he made to hold the door open for you, arm extended but gaze averted.

"thank you, quinn," you said, trying out his name, surprised to find how natural it felt on your tongue, something like a hymn a past-life you must have sang with unmatched conviction.

he seemed just as surprised as you, practically tripped over his own feet before quickly recovering. you bit your lip to stifle a laugh.

"should only take a second," he said as he crouched down next to your car, his voice a bit rougher than before, pulling a couple of tools and bulbs from his many pockets.

"take your time," you said, sitting down nearby as he got to work, and you meant it, feeling a somewhat shameful urge to just watch him. just look at him.

you fumbled to distract yourself, settling on looking interested in your phone. in reality, it took real effort to keep your eyes down, away from him, when you felt as if he emitted some kind of magnetic force suited only to you.

it felt like an eternity, but it took all of ten minutes, a couple swift motions, and he was done, rising again to his full height and turning to face you.

you allowed yourself to meet his eyes and it felt like a heaving exhale. "all done?" you asked, rising as well, willing brightness into your voice.

he nodded in affirmation, and you could have pouted. a man of few words, it seemed, and how you wished he would give you a few more.

he wiped his hands with a rag, and you refused to let your eyes follow the motion. "so i should pay..." you started.

he nodded towards the lobby. "you can pay with bean," he said, gruff.

you grinned right at him, and anyone else would have seen his gaze soften from stone to molten rock. "bean?" you asked.

the slightest smile took over his mouth. "my cousin," he said, slowly, "at reception."

you hummed, comforted by his sudden ease. "well then," you said, "i'll go check out with your cousin bean."

"i'll walk you," he blurted out, a blush coming to tint the tops of his ears in a positively dreamy sort of way.

so you walked the several steps back to the lobby together, the silence so comfortable you could have sighed, fallen asleep wrapped up in it.

already you felt some sense of loss creeping in, knowing you were probably never going to see him again, knowing this was all you were going to get. just a couple of glances and words and blushes, that's as far as this would go. and it made a lot of sense, but logical reason grew over your hazy, momentary crush like ivy on a brick building.

he held the door open for you again, and as you walked past him this time you looked up into his eyes. stone and steel and ivy.

you thanked him again.

"quinn?" came that delightfully girlish voice from behind the desk, this time intensely confused. "what are you doing?"

he stood in the door frame, his swallow almost cartoonish. "just making sure she checks out okay," he mumbled, not quite looking anyone in the face.

the girl smiled so wide, you could see she had chosen to make her braces purple last time she visited the orthodontist. "you've never done that before, is all," she observed with all the subtlety of a volcanic eruption.

was that pink tint creeping past his ears to his neck, now?

"do it plenty," he muttered, less than convincing and more to himself than anyone else.

the girl shot you a knowing look before turning to her cousin again. "if you say so," she relented. "miss tail light is in good hands with me, now, so you're all set, mr. random acts of kindness."

quinn muttered something under his breath before making to leave, embarrassment still flushing just under his collar.

the knowledge that this was it, this was all this would ever be, that's what made you reach a hand out to lightly grasp his forearm, stopping him where he stood.

you swore some kind of divine warmth rose to meet your hand.

he looked down at where your fingers met his arm before meeting your gaze. molten, yet again. he didn't move, didn't dare to scare off your touch.

"thank you again, quinn," you said, just to him.

a pause charged by meaning sparked between you both.

maybe some minuscule fraction of your heart feared he would push you away and roll his eyes, mumble something about personal space. or maybe that disgust would flood his lovely gaze, and he would say something much meaner.

you should never have touched him, you scolded yourself, stupid, desperate, foolish girl. you began to lift your hand away when his rough voice became a whisper, just for you.

"anything, doll," he said. and then he walked away, leaving his words to rattle around in your head like the whirring noises around the garage.

you paid, laughed playfully with the young receptionist as she insisted she had never seen her cousin so embarrassed, and especially not so bashful.

"i'm sure that's not true," you said, trying in vain to force your sky-rocketing hopes back to earth.

"oh, it is," she said as you made to leave, giving you a big smile and a wave as you bid her goodbye.

as you drove back home, those tendrils of reason crept back again, began to suffocate the dreamy romance that had settled like a glittery mist in your head.

you gave a single exhale, breathing out any unrealistic expectations. you'd probably never see him again, you admitted to yourself, and you tried to convince yourself that you were fine with it.

and so you let the image of steel and stone and ivy become a phantom in the back of your mind, along with the scorching solidity of his forearm underneath your delicate palm.

you'd never see him again, you believed.

in theory, you knew you could have had one of your friends find him on social media, it probably wouldn't have been too hard. a first name, an occupation, they'd tracked down fleeting flings and past crushes with much less information to go off of before.

but you didn't like the idea of interference, much preferred the way he looked in your memory to the fear that he would be someone very different online, that he would be someone different than the person that now existed exclusively in your head.

you were never supposed to see him again, and yet you did, and just as you had almost forgotten the way his shoulders moved when he walked, too.

three weeks later, just before you went back to school, you were eating dinner outside with your family at the country club they belonged to. you had been there maybe twice in the last couple of years, as your mom worked long hours and your dad only really used his membership for golf.

now, though, sitting outside, overlooking the course, in the pleasant air of the late summer, you were glad you were here, enjoying these last few moments with your family before you began your third year.

you were laughing at a joke your mom had made when you heard someone close by call out, "that's my marker, quinn!"

something distant fluttered in your stomach as you registered the name, tried so hard to not care if it was him or not. trying so, so hard to not care, but you cared so much it felt as if you might have willed him into existence yourself, wanted him enough that even the uninterested powers were forced to relent with a bored sigh.

so, in truth, you knew it was him even before you turned and focused on the hole just below the patio.

you knew it was him, and yet you were wholly unprepared for the way your head spun when you registered his familiar figure.

as if compelled by your gaze, or by something else worth worshipping, he turned, too, and there you were, staring at each other. did he recognize you the way you did him? the way you recognize your first lover's cologne? the way you recognize what's waiting behind a door with a scalding doorknob?

but then he took a hand off of his club and gave a timid wave, and you felt your body relax as you waved back. he paused for a moment as if in thought, then motioned towards him, silently asking you to come down.

"who is that?" your mother asked, not critical, only curious.

"my mechanic," you answered, "be right back, promise."

so, even though it was probably (definitely) against the rules, you made your way down to the impeccably cut grass, holding your shoes in one shaky hand.

you waved again as you approached him at the edge of the green, his friends gathered closer to the hole, talking animatedly amongst themselves.

he tilted his head and gave you a small smile, which gave you wings. a smile, and you hadn't even done anything!

"hi, quinn," you said, getting your first good look at him up close, and this time not in coveralls. this time in a polo that brought out his eyes and shorts that had you straining not to stare at his thighs.

"doll," he greeted, that ghost of a smile still on his full lips. "thought that was you."

heavy uncertainty suddenly settled between the both of you. what were you supposed to say? what was he supposed to say? what do you do with time that feels stolen?

"didn't think i'd see you again," you landed on, then physically cringed at yourself. "not that i was thinking about you, or anything," you added, then pursed your lips in a line.

awesome save.

he let out a laugh, though, and it shook his shoulders and lit up his face in a way that made it impossible to regret your rambling.

his laugh made him look human in a way he hadn't really, before, at the garage. it stripped back all the flowery expectations your imagination had buried him in and set him down here, in front of you, a real person.

a real person, who, in this summery light, was much more unabashed and generous with his smiles. his eyes had a softness to them that you hadn't noticed before.

"i wish you had, then," he said, in that deep, low, voice with a confidence that didn't quite suit him, like he was just trying it on.

it almost made you drop your shoes, regardless.

"yeah?" you asked, tilting your head and letting your satisfaction drench your face like sunset light.

he gave a little nod.

"c'mon, huggy!" one of his friends called. what do you do with time that feels stolen?

he looked back at them and his jaw clenched, for a second.

you knew you had to be the one to walk away, or it would haunt you like some ancestral debt.

"maybe i'll see you again, then, quinn," you said, your tone not conveying the desperate hope you felt.

he looked you up and down, amusement alight in his eyes. it seemed his nervous demeanor existed only in his coveralls. "you willing to take your chances on a 'maybe,' doll?"

were you?

you silently begged those distant forces to prove your hopes were not futile, but you didn't really believe that. you were headed to school in just two days, and who knows where he was headed, this mysterious mechanic who liked to golf and had eyes like a deity.

you knew you were on stolen time, and that this, again, was as far as this would ever go.

"we're going!" his friends called.

"i hope i see you again, quinn," you amended, already feeling a sense of loss again. but you had to be the one to walk away, so you began to.

his face was unreadable, some mixture of disappointment and interest and knowing.

"think about me some more this time, yeah? until you see me again?"

your smile glowed. "if 'm honest, quinn, that'll be hard," you said, thinking about how he had been a constant in your mind for the last couple of weeks. you leaned into your flirtatious side since you were both moving apart. it was always easiest when you were on the way out.

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "try extra hard for me, would you, doll?"

and for a moment, time seemed to ooze like amber. a blink felt like eternity, like you were both suspended in an hourglass.

"promise," you said. it came out like a whisper, but it felt like you screamed it across an open expanse.

and so you parted ways a second time, practically daring the universe to stop you from meeting again.

do whatever you want, universe, you seemed to say, i don't care! i'm fine with the story ending here!

oh, sweetheart, the universe seemed to say, yawning, barely looking at you, then why do you clutch at the book until your fingers bleed?

you could have scowled.

and, just as he wanted, and just as you were afraid of, he was there, in the back of your mind, for several weeks into the school year.

everything started smoothly. you were happy to see your friends again, to be living with them. classes started well. you went out when you wanted to. you began your regular job, tutoring other students in classes you had already taken. it was nice to see the students you had helped out last year, to continue helping them.

teachers referred you to help students who were struggling in their classes all the time, so it wasn't anything significant when one set up a time for you to meet at the library with someone who wasn't quite getting intro to calculus.

it was significant, however, when you opened up the reserved study room door to see quinn sitting at the table, textbooks out in front of him.

so significant, actually, that it genuinely scared you. "jesus," you muttered, exhaling and placing a calming hand over your heart.

he looked up when he heard the door open, and you were frozen in place.

this is what you wanted, right? the universe probably asked, bored. now will you leave me alone?

"i was not expecting you," you admitted, willing your heart back to beating normally.

you couldn't read him, yet again. and yet again, you felt as if you had wanted him hard enough that even the fibers of the universe were annoyed enough to comply.

ugh, they probably said to each other, just give that desperate fool what she wants! i'm tired of hearing her pleas!

but you could have sighed at how beautiful he looked, this time different again - sweatpants and a t-shirt and messy hair. soft looking and sleepy after a day of class and whatever else.

"yeah?" he asked, although he hadn't expected you either. he wasn't shocked the way you were, though. only pleasantness played across his full features. "who were you expecting?"

not you, you wanted to say. things just don't work out like this for me. "i didn't know you went here," you said, simply.

"i didn't know you were a tutor," he replied, leaning back in his chair.

i didn't know your smile gets lopsided when you're tired, you thought to yourself. you could never forget that, now.

"safe to say we know very little about each other, doll," he added, as if he could hear your thoughts.

and he was right - you hadn't asked him anything about himself the last two times you saw him, and he didn't know anything about you. how easy would it have been at the course to say you were going to the local university in a couple of days. why had you not?

why had you relinquished control so easily?

it practically pained you to think about that, just as it was practically painful to look at his face head on, eyes weary with sleep yet bright with amusement, so you decided to solve both of those problems.

"well," you said, sliding into the seat next to him at the table, excruciatingly aware of your closeness, "what do you know about derivatives?"

he gave a huff of a laugh. "probably even less," he said.

you gave him a smile and started to go over your notes with him. the more you spoke, and the deeper you got into the topic, the easier it was to be close to him.

you were still hyperaware of his warmth, his presence, his beauty, his being, but you could do this. getting lost in your purpose here instead of getting lost in him.

after about an hour of you explaining derivatives, you looking at your notes, and him looking at you, you shut your textbook.

"i think that's good for a first session, hm?" you asked, turning to face him and hugging one knee to your chest.

he held your gaze as if studying your face. it felt like being center stage, under a white hot spotlight.

he spread his legs out and reached his arms up, stretching after sitting in the same position for a while. you had to look down at your hands.

"five more minutes?" he asked like a kid begging for an extended bedtime. only now he was asking for more time with you.

you scrunched up your nose, which made him smile, a bit. "can i ask you a question, quinn?" you asked. "since we don't know anything about each other."

"only if i get one, too," he answered.

you thought carefully, flexed your hand on your knee as your gaze met his sleepy one. "it's not that late," you started, "why are you so tired?"

he laughed again, making your chest sing. "busy day," he answered, "had two classes, practice, and a lift."

and as he elaborated you added to the carefully protected vault in your mind of information you knew about him. he played hockey for the team here, he was a defensemen, he was always busy.

"my turn," he said after he was done, low like a secret.

you nodded, forced away the flush his tone alone was able to pull from you.

"did you keep your promise?" he asked.

of everything he could have said, you were least expecting that. of course you knew what promise he was referring to immediately. of course it felt like something abominable to tell him the truth.

suddenly the space between the two of you felt much too little, much too dangerous. so small that you could see each of his eyelashes, he could see the way your eyes dropped to his mouth for a second.

there was something in his eyes that surprised you, though. there was a trace of those nerves you had seen in him that first day - that instability and uncertainty. he wanted you to say yes, you realized. he wanted it so, so much.

"of course i did, quinn," you soothed, leaning forward onto your knee just a bit. it was always easiest on the way out. "did you have any doubts?"

did he let out a breath? his silence spoke for him. still, you had to be the one to walk away. you couldn't afford any more ghosts.

"same time next week?" you asked, gathering your things.

"not gonna leave it to chance this time, doll?" he asked, getting his things together too, but in a lazy sort of way. his hands moved slowly, reluctantly.

you tried not to stare at them.

you gave him a last look before you left.

"do you want to leave it to chance?" you asked, genuinely.

ugh, chance seemed to say, can't you just do it yourself?

his molten gaze dripped over you like honey. "no," he decided, "no, i wouldn't say that's at the top of my wishlist."

you didn't ask what was.

so, each tuesday night, you tutored him in calculus. and each tuesday night, you learned more about him, and he learned more about you.

you learned about how he got into auto mechanics (he never grew out of his childhood truck phase), why he liked golf (really just an excuse to talk with his friends for a couple of hours), what was so special about hockey (it felt like he could see things that others just couldn't). his favorite candy (sour skittles), his favorite color gatorade (red), his favorite t-shirt (a worn in concert shirt from high school).

but you also learned that he got shy when you complimented him, that he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek when he was about to say something that made you blush, that he got more confident as he got to know you.

his nerves only came out when he grew unsure, and you did your best to make him so, so sure.

and he did get to know you. how you got into your major (data analysis was the family business), why you applied yourself so vigorously in your classes (you didn't know any other way), all about your close friends and family. your favorite soda (cherry coke zero), your favorite frat (pike, only because a couple of your friends were dating brothers there, and they had the goofiest themes), your favorite snack (pretzel goldfish).

he was nothing if not observant, too, so he noticed that you had a special smile for when he got a question right, and that you only wore your hair up when you were extra tired, and that, towards the end of the session, when you were caught off guard, you would lean a little closer to him without realizing.

that was his favorite. when you would lean into his space, just a little more, as if you were pulled towards him by a magnetic force.

and each session, you made him a little more confident, and he made you blush a little bit more. until you both felt utterly comfortable with each other, like you had known each other for ages.

well, as comfortable as you could feel with a person who made you feel like every inch of your skin was on fire. as comfortable as you could feel with someone whose voice made your throat go dry, whose hands made you stutter, whose mannerisms made your stomach flutter.

one tuesday night, late into a session where he had told you he had passed his quiz with flying colors, he twisted his pen in his hand.

"you know, doll," he started, "you should come to a game sometime."

you looked up. "one of your games?" you asked, searching his steely eyes for meaning.

his lip quirked. "yes, one of my games."

here, he might as well have said, have a little more of me.

"unless you don't want to," he added to your silence. "which would also be fine. i don't want to force-"

you stopped him with a hand on his forearm, transporting you both back to that first day. did you imagine him relaxing into your touch, this time?

"i'd love to come," you said, looking him square in the face.

"good," he replied, content.

but nothing could have prepared you for what awaited you that friday night, standing with your friends in the student section of the rink you had never been to.

"how have we never been to a hockey game?" one of them asked, looking around at the crowd.

"basketball's just better," another said, although, to be fair, she was on the club basketball team. "what the hell is icing, anyways?"

"we never had a reason to, i guess," your best friend said in a teasing tone. you shot her a look, to which she raised her hands in surrender. "hey, no judgement," she said, and you laughed.

as soon as quinn was on the ice, though, he had your complete and undivided attention. he skated with a mesmerizing fluidity, hit with a concrete, undeniable kind of force. and he was right - he did see things no one else could see, made connections that you, nor anyone on the ice, could predict until they were already completed.

he was all over the ice, all over this space, he was everywhere. and you were transfixed.

walking back to the house with your friends, they noticed. of course they did.

"oh god, i know that look," one said.

"this is gonna be trouble," another added. was this trouble? was trouble when everything someone did felt like some great treasure you had discovered? was trouble this kind of fire, of comfort, of excitement, of rest?

you shook your head. "calm down, guys," you said. "it's not that serious."

"right," someone said. you didn't believe yourself, either.

"what did you think of the game?" he asked the following tuesday after you had covered enough material to be satisfied.

you were so close to him now, it probably would have been easier to just share a chair. so close you could feel the warmth radiating off of him, could all but feel his chest against your back.

"what did i think of the game?" you repeated lazily.

you could hear his smile in his voice. "yes, doll."

you hummed. how honest could you be, here? what could you get away with?

and maybe it was your closeness to him that made you bold. maybe it was the heat you saw in his eyes that had you leaning your head on his shoulder and looking up at him. you felt his breath rumble through him and into you.

the air sparked.

"thought you were incredible, quinn," you said honestly. "like nothing i've ever seen."

his exhale was shaky as he peered down at you. "yeah?" he asked.

"mhm," you hummed, your body buzzing with his contact, the most you had ever had. something unspoken settled between you like dust.

"you would come again, then?" he asked, hopeful but drowsy.

you couldn't help but smile, a bit, gaze up at him through your lashes. "think i'd have a hard time saying no to you, if 'm honest."

something like wonder misted across his heated gaze. "i like knowing you're there," he said. "like knowing you're thinking about me."

dangerous desire swirled around the two of you, melting your gaze and blurring the lines.

things don't work out like this for you, a voice said, bitter and mocking, drawing the lines up again, sturdy and menacing.

you cleared your throat, lifted your head from his shoulder. if you could look at him, you would have seen that uncertainty swimming in his eyes again, along with something like hurt.

but you couldn't look at him. at the drowsy slouch of his shoulders, the rugged line of his jaw, the glossy want that practically dripped down his face like starry tears.

i'm always thinking about you, you wanted to tell him. i'm sorry.

but you gathered your things, stood up. "i should go."

he was silent for a moment, looked you up and down, gave a small sigh. "okay, doll," he conceded. "on one condition."

you scrunched up your nose in confusion.

"you agree to come golfing with me tomorrow," he said in a completely satisfied tone. "then, you can go."

a million excuses flooded onto your tongue.

"i'm busy tomorrow," you tried, your voice coming out tight.

he waved that off lazily. "me too," he said, something like a smirk growing on his pink lips. "but we're both free at four, so let's plan on that. next?"

you sputtered.

"but i don't know how to golf," you tried.

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. trouble.

"don't worry, doll," he offered. "i'll go real slow for you."

you flushed, almost walked into the doorframe, quickly decided you needed to leave immediately, if you wanted to maintain any level of mystery or dignity.

"fine," you said, already on your way out. it felt like flames were nipping at your heels, biting at your nose. "i'll come."

his smirk deepened, a different look on him. "don't put up much of a fight, do you, doll?"

"i'm leaving," you choked as you walked out, turning to face him one final time. "what if i just didn't want to come?"

he seemed to ponder this for a moment. "i think," he started, "if you really didn't want to come, it wouldn't make you blush like this to say so."

he didn't ask you to think about him, but by the look on his face, you knew he could tell he didn't have to.

so, the following day, you found yourself on the course with quinn.

a terrible, terrible idea, really.

especially considering the want that filled his gaze when he first saw you, catching on your legs before returning up to your eyes.

"showed up for me, did you, doll?" he asked, a hope you recognized tinting his voice a shimmery pink.

you rolled your eyes, but smiled. "you knew i would."

"thank you anyways," he replied, and his genuineness, his honesty, his straightforwardness, it all made you melt. made you want to know what his smile felt like against your neck, what his hands felt like in your hair.

so, as you both made to tee off, you turned to him. "can you help me with my swing, please?"

his gaze softened. liquid steel. "sure, doll," he said, then lined up next to you and explained his way through it.

you bit your lip. "i'm a hands on learner," you said, which was a lie. "i think i need you closer." that part wasn't.

he didn't adopt a cocky smirk, like so many would have. he didn't lean into your act, didn't pounce on the opportunity to show his superiority. he only approached you from behind and reached his arms around you to grip your driver with you, his hands on top of yours, warm and rough.

you could feel each breath he took in your back, felt the solid plane of his chest on your shoulder blades.

"close enough?" he all but whispered into the space between your neck and your shoulder.

something sinful must have possessed you then. "for now," you breathed out.

he went through a swing with you, slow and fluid. you weren't paying attention, not really, but how could you, when he was just so, so close? was this dazed sensation, was that what he felt when you touched him, that first day? or later, in your study room?

but, of course, the swing was soon over, and he reluctantly retreated off to the side.

"your turn, doll," he said.

you took a breath to shake the phantom of his embrace away, then teed off - beautifully straight and hard, arcing through the air like a physics textbook problem.

you looked at him to find a knowing, teasing look on his face. he ran a hand through his hair, displacing the curling ends as he gave a quick laugh.

you smiled. "call me a natural," you offered, shrugging.

"oh yeah?" he said, tilting his head. "how about i call you a liar?"

you leaned forward onto the end of your driver, grin widening. "how about i call you gullible?"

he shook his head, let out a playful scoff. "like you'd ever have to trick me into touching you."

the rest of the round went by quickly, both of your guards down, lost in conversation and high on each other. too soon, it was over.

it was this realization that urged you to act uncharacteristically - in that, you acted according to what you truly felt.

"can i see you tomorrow?" you asked him as he loaded your clubs into the trunk of your car. you didn't cringe as much as you would have a few weeks ago.

he wiped his hands on his shorts, looked at you with something that looked like relief. "think i'd have a hard time saying no to you," he parroted. his ability to remember things about you warmed you from the inside out.

"meet me at the sig nu party tomorrow?" you asked hopefully. "maybe you can meet some of my friends?"

he looked truly touched. "some of the guys are going already since we don't have a morning lift on friday," he said, "so you could meet some of them, too, if you want."

you nodded, flushed with expectation. "see you then," you said, making to get in your car. "and yes, i'll think about you."

his smile as you shut your door was something of dreams.

sigma nu was not one of your favorite frats. their basement was especially dirty looking, their brothers were on the sketchier side, and the never seemed to have enough alcohol to make it through the night.

but one of your friends was talking to one of the brothers, who also played club basketball. so you and the rest of your group were going for moral support. and also because no one else was throwing. it was only a thursday.

you were nervous. you had only just begun to accept that you were really, really into quinn, and you had only just begun to accept that he might, possibly, probably, be just as into you.

it still didn't make much logical sense to you. when had it ever been so simple?

don't talk about logical sense around me, chance would say, that bitch knows what she did.

when you first saw quinn across the crowded room, chance and logical sense and all those divine powers, they all melted away.

it was just him. his hair was messy and his gaze was relaxed and the lights made it look like his face was glowing as he laughed with his friends.

but the crowd got the better of you, for a little while. you danced with your friends, politely escaped several "so, what's your major?" conversations, and actually spent a while talking to your friend's new talking stage.

as you laughed at something, you were internally surprised. this guy seemed perfect for your friend - they shared so many interests, and he was able to laugh at himself easily, which was something that was at the top of her priority list.

after a while of learning enough about him to approve of him graduating from the talking stage, you looked up. of course your gaze was immediately drawn to quinn, closer than you had seen him last.

closer, and yet farther than he had ever been, because he was leaning against the wall, talking to another girl.

you couldn't really see the girl, but it wouldn't have really mattered. it wasn't about her. she was just a girl talking to a guy at a party. a guy who was, in all technical senses, single and available.

it was more so about him, and how close he was to her, how he leaned down to hear her, meaning she could probably smell his all-but-worn-off cologne.

your grip tightened on your red cup as you swallowed.

before, quinn had only ever been yours, because even when you doubted that he could ever return your feelings, he had never given you concrete evidence that he was interested in anyone else. so even though he hadn't been yours, he had been almost yours, probably going to be yours, or something like that.

but here he was, giving you concrete proof that he existed to others, too, that other people could be interested in him and he could be interested back.

and of course that had always been the case. how could you have been so narcissistic? of course people would foster crushes on him, like you did, and of course he was bound to reciprocate eventually, to someone.

you had let yourself believe that you were the center of the world for a moment, of his world, and you hated that.

so, honestly, it was barely even about quinn. this struggle, this was about you.

but if you stripped back everything external, oh, how downright jealous you felt right then.

so jealous that you had to leave, that you couldn't watch anymore. when you got home, you shut the door and exhaled.

what did i tell you? that bitter voice said, things just don't work out that way for you.

you could have growled, now, at how lazy, how self-centered that sounded.

don't look at me, chance would have said, hands raised in surrender, this was all you.

he was just talking to another girl, logical reason would say, that doesn't mean he's not interested in you. you have what, a couple months of history?

and of course reason would be right. of course, you knew, deep down, you didn't have to let this consume you.

but now a tendril of doubt had woven its way into your heart. if you had been so misled by your own ego before, how could you tell if any of it was real? how could you trust yourself to know if this wasn't much more to you than it was to him?

time. you needed some time.

thankfully, that was doable. you went home for break on friday after class, and planned to stay there for the week.

so you stayed home, caught up with your parents, ignored his numerous texts.

it hurt to do so, but you told yourself you needed some distance.

which wasn't that hard, considering he was playing a series of games across the country. you still put on his games though, which your parents noticed.

"didn't even know we got this channel," you dad observed one night as you watched quinn stickhandle around a sloppy winger.

"when did you get into hockey?" you mom asked, never critical. "we could go see a game sometime, if you want."

you started to settle down a bit, really enjoyed the time at home. before you knew it, though, break was almost over.

"sweetheart," you mom called to you on your second to last day, "would you mind taking the car in?"

you were skeptical. "why?"

"they just called," she explained, "said we're due for an urgent oil change."

you thought it was weird that they would call for that, but quinn was supposedly still away, so you figured it wouldn't be that much of an issue.

"sure," you responded. "i'll bring it in now."

you knew it was a trap as soon as you opened your car door at the garage.

the young receptionist approached you quickly with a guilty smile.

"hi, miss bean," you said, trying to gauge what she was about to say.

"look," she rushed, "i didn't want to, and i'm thought the plan was stupid, and i'm sure you're ignoring him for good reason-"

you sighed, knowing what was coming. having walked right into it. "i'm not, really," you stopped her, then felt the need to clarify. "it's not really a good reason."

"what is it, then?" that low voice asked from your side, and everyone else disappeared.

just him, standing there, looking the same as you had last seen him, but so, so different.

the same, because he was just as lovely as you last recalled. was it insensitive to say that he wore his weariness beautifully?

so different, because he just looked so tired. his coveralls did little to hide the slight slouch in his shoulders. a subtle stubble now shadowed his face, making his jaw sharper. and his eyes. that steely stone that had occupied your mind all this time - it was cracking, desperate for something to hang on to.

"just needed some distance," you mustered. you were jarred by his appearance, by being close to him again, just the two of you.

"yeah?" he looked you up and down, that desperate disappointment now running down your figure. there was no malice in his tone. "why, doll? so you can say you were right?" you could have hissed. "so you can go on knowing everything went exactly as you told yourself it would?"

things like this don't work out for you. who had been telling you that, again?

you sucked on your teeth, had no idea what to say. what do you say to someone that sees right through you? the pause settled like sludge. "i thought you were away," you eventually whispered, ignoring his question.

he ran a hand through his hair, let all his grief flood into his eyes. "and i thought it would be a lot harder for you to forget me," he said, "so i guess we're both at a loss."

you took a step forward, then stopped yourself, almost dizzy. "you actually think i would forget you?" you breathed, practically choking on your words.

he scoffed. "what was i supposed to think?" he rubbed his palm against the back of his neck. "i think everything is going well when you ask me to come to this party, then you spend the whole time talking to some other guy-"

your brow furrowed before you understood. "my friend's new boyfriend," you interrupted. to his confusion, you clarified. "i was talking to my friend's boyfriend."

he blinked, registered this information, appeared a bit lighter. "regardless," he sighed, "you were supposed to be talking to me, doll."

"hold on," you said, the memory of jealousy seeping into your bloodstream, "you were talking to someone else, too, quinn." you crossed your arms, images flashing in your mind of him leaning down, his ear much too close to her lips. "and i don't think that was your friend's girlfriend, unless they're trying out an open relationship."

"i just-" he gave a frustrated gesture, looked down at his feet for a moment.

"you what?" you pressed.

he sighed, now flushed. "i just wanted you to look at me."

you both were silent for a beat as you processed his words. you exhaled, took a few steps until you were right in front of him. his eyes flickered down to your mouth, took the long way back up.

you took his face in your hands, his stubble rough under your palms. you knew you didn't imagine the way he softened into you touch.

"surely by now you know you're all i think about," you said, an offering. like some sacrifice at a long-abandoned altar, so terribly desperate, shamefully honest.

so terrible, the way he grabbed at your hip, pulled you forward, against him. so desperate, the way his other hand twisted into your hair.

so shameful, how he captured your lips with his, all brute emotion, sleepy resignation, a million pleas of "look at me" answered with "i never looked away."

so honest, how he just barely whimpered into your mouth when you tightened your grasp on his jaw, kissed him harder. he pulled so slightly on your hair, you slid a hand down to his chest, gathered the collar of his coveralls in your first, trying to get him impossibly closer.

here, you both were practically screaming, here, have some more of me.

someone whistled across the garage. you pulled away from each other with a jump, having gotten a little carried away. quinn flushed on the tips of his ears and shot the culprit a look, which made you let out a light laugh into his chest.

the little rumble made him look down at you, wrap his arms around your waist and clasp them on the small of your back.

you stayed like that for a moment, just looking at each other. stone, molten.

"i have this thing next week," he said eventually, barely anything more than a rasp. "a formal for the team."

you nodded, reached up, twisted a strand of his hair around your finger.

"come with me," he asked, soft. "please."

you didn't have to think about it. "yes."

and so, about a week later, you found yourself at the hockey formal, an event you hadn't known existed a couple of months ago.

the past week had been blissful, but frustrating - you both were so busy, you with schoolwork and tutoring, him with the team. so much so that you could barely see each other outside of your scheduled tutoring session.

needless to say, you were very much looking forward to a weekend away with him. a whole night, just for the two of you.

and the whole night was wonderful. you were introduced to his teammates, saw a new side of him, heard his laugh so many times it made your head spin.

it was all just so easy. even the mess ups, the uncertainty, the silences, those were easy too, because they were with him.

when he stuttered over telling you how beautiful you looked - easy.

when you didn't know how to introduce yourself to his friends, so you just said you were "quinn's..." and then faded out, unsure - that was easy, because you weren't even really lying. your laugh was instinctual, and everyone else's was, too.

when he asked you to dance, reaching his hand out to you, there had never been an easier yes.

you danced with all the beautiful awkwardness of two people who weren't quite sure what they were yet - weren't quite sure how far they could go. there was not a question of how you both felt, but how slow were you taking this?

how slow could you bear?

every touch felt electric, like a gentle flame ignited whereever his hands had been. you felt a shiver erupt when his hand grasped your waist as you both moved together to a simple rhythm.

so up close and personal, you could smell his worn cologne, feel the warmth from his chest.

he gave you a sly smile, something close to a smirk. "okay, doll?"

you bit your lip, peered up at him through your lashes. "you just look so lovely, quinn," you told him, squeezed his hand, gave him a flushed smile. "it's distracting."

he pulled you a little closer, so that your chests were almost touching as you moved across the floor. "yeah?" he asked, his smile lazy, almost shy. "love a suit, do you?"

you tilted your head, met his gaze entirely and absolutely. oh, how much, how deeply you wanted. hadn't your want seemed to fray the fibers of the universe before?

babe, they seemed to remind you, we never cared.

then who was i praying to? you could have asked.

and they would have only shared a look, laughed like two girls at a sleepover.

well, who answered? they would have responded.

what you did do is give a slight shake of your head. "not the suit," you said. "you're distracting."

you watched his eyes become hooded, felt the underlying heat ignite between you. his grip on your waist tightened. "careful, doll," he breathed out, a warning, a plea.

"don't wanna be," you replied. there was a moment of understanding, a pause of anticipation.

"how slow do you want to take this?" almost drowsy with desire, his voice was slow, rough, only for you. "you know i'd go so slow for you, right, doll?"

you nodded. "i know," you assured him, "but i don't want you to."

you thought you heard him mutter a fuck before he was pulling you from the floor, out of the elaborate event room, upstairs to your room at the hotel. everything was a blur as his hand clasped around yours. a desperate escape, fleeing from everything, everyone except him.

and then the door was shutting and he was pushing you up against it, a hand on your hip and the other on your jaw as his lips met yours in a heated kiss that was every bit as desperate, as longing, and terrible and horrible and shameful as the first one.

you were both too far gone to hold back any longer.

you tangled your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, felt the curls between your fingers.

he tasted like mint and salt and something earthy.

kissing him felt like barbed wire made of gold, flowery rust, somehow the most violent act you had ever committed, yet also the most gentle.

like removing your heart with a cookie cutter, offering it to him on a painted porcelain plate.

you moaned into his mouth, he hissed just a bit as you pulled at his hair.

he pushed his hips up against yours, hiked your leg up around his thigh, making you gasp at the hardness you found across his front.

"more," you murmured against his lips, felt his sly smirk grow against yours.

he moved his hand from your hip to slide up your dress, glide his fingertips along your inner thigh, just barely skirt across your folds. "like this, doll? so wet for me already," he asked, his voice gravelly. "this must be enough then, yeah?"

you shook your head, moved your hips to try to get some friction.

"no?" he said, obviously teasing, "greedy girl, hm? wants even more?" he brought his other hand to your mouth, pressed his thumb against your bottom lip, smirked when you closed your lips around him without a second thought. "what do you say?"

"please," you whined around his hand, in a voice you barely recognized. "please, quinn."

he answered you by dragging his fingers through your folds once before pushing two into you, slow and deep, making you arch your back up off of the door.

"fuck, so tight," he rasped.

you whimpered against his thumb, closed your eyes as you felt his hand move from your mouth to your throat.

"open up, doll," he demanded. "look at me."

you obliged with effort, wrapped an arm around his neck for support, another one bracing the door as he increased his pace, pushing his fingers in and out of you, grazing your clit each time.

your nails dug into his neck as you lost yourself in the sensation, barely registering the way he groaned at the delicious shot of pain.

"this enough, doll?" he cooed, annoyingly smug at how audibly wet you were.

you vigorously shook your head, so desperate to get him to keep going. "no," you pleaded, "fuck, please, quinn, don't stop."

he tightened his hand around your throat just a little, only barely squeezing as he flattened his other palm against your clit, making you moan loudly. "must be ready for me then, yeah?"

you fisted his dress shirt in your hand, pushed yourself off of the door and pulled him onto the bed. "please, need more of you," you begged, nothing more than a prayer, "fuck, want you so bad."

something lovely flooded his gaze as he moved his clothes aside, pulled himself out as you further hiked up your dress.

he spat into his hand, pumped himself up and down in a way that made your mouth water.

you were practically pouting. "please, fuck me, quinn," you said, pathetic and just so fine with it, "'s all i've been thinking about."

and you knew you had said something magical when he groaned and tugged you towards him by the undersides of your thighs, his grip hot and rough, a working man's grip.

"shit," he hissed as he ran his cock up and down your folds once, twice, collecting your wetness there, "'d never say no to you."

you whined when he first pushed into you, so, so deep that you swore you could feel him in the palms of your hands, feel him rattling around in your teeth, behind your eyes.

he moaned like a sinner, clutched at the flesh of your hips so tightly you knew his fingerprints would be left behind later.

as he began to thrust in and out of you, his rhythm hard and even, both of you could barely form words, so lost in the feeling of each other, finally as physically close as you could be.

"fuck," he bit out eventually, his rhythm picking up speed, "so tight, doll. so wet for me, hm?"

you nodded, clenched around him, reached one of your hands forward to rub at your clit, increasing the pressure quickly building inside of you.

he choked out a grunt at the sight of you touching yourself, only making you squeeze him harder. "feels so good, quinn," you whined, "so deep inside me."

he moved one hand up to your calf, hoisted one of your legs up to change his angle, thrusted down into you in a way that hit a dizzying spot inside of you. he kept going, bringing you both closer every minute.

"shit, feel so perfect," he bit out at some point. "made for me, hm?" he asked as you rubbed your clit faster. "squeezing me so perfect, yeah?"

you hummed something like affirmation, your breathing becoming ragged as he hit that spot over and over, his chest rising and falling, his thrusts becoming broken and messy.

"fuck, quinn," you moaned, "fuck, 'm so close."

he groaned. "gonna cum for me, doll?" he asked, letting your calf rest on his shoulder as his hand travelled down to apply only the slightest pressure to your lower stomach.

the sensation, that unique pressure making you feel him impossibly deeper, sent you soaring right to the edge.

"feel you squeezing me," he breathed out, his own voice tight and rough, his chest and stomach flexing as he fought off his own orgasm. "cum for me, doll, yeah? wanna feel you cum on my cock." he squinted with effort. "be good for me, hm?"

and his words sent you spiraling, a wave of pleasure finally crashing, clenching and spasming around him in a way that triggered his own high.

he moaned as he came, his breathing labored as you both collapsed back onto the hotel bed.

effort and satisfaction glowed on your faces, realized desire settling along his cheekbones and on the cupid's bow of your mouth.

there were several moments of easy silence in the warm air, his hand throw lazily around your middle, one of yours resting on his chest.

"can i ask you for something?" you said eventually, looking up at him with tired eyes full of possibility.

"anything, doll," he said, and you remembered back to that first day, in the garage. how easy it was, now, to remember it fondly.

"can i have a kiss, please?" you asked, almost shy, more so gentle.

a smile already played across his mouth. "especially that," he said, eager to comply with your request.

he leaned down to press a fluttering, beautiful kiss to your lips.

well i definitely didn't see this coming, chance stage-whispered to logical reason behind her hand.

i don't really deal with this lovey-dovey kind of stuff, logical reason said, not my thing.

all the divine powers and the fibers of the universe and such, they were silent. perhaps they always had been. perhaps this was much too far out of their jurisdiction.

perhaps it was just none of their business.

fin.

[gabgabwrites]

HOT AS HELL | Eddie Munson [pt. 4]

summary ⇝ Eddie can finally clear things up and make amends, but Jason Carver always has to be in the way, luckily for Eddie, you’re there just on time.

warnings ⇝ language, violence, kissing, smut! p in v, unprotected sex, bathroom sex, Switch!Eddie (if you squint), oral (F), palming, mirror sex, praising, whiny Eddie 🫢, mdni.

read previous part here!

Some shimmery, orange liquor sloshed around in your cup as you swayed and spun on the dance floor. The music was blaring, people were packed in like sardines on the dance floor, and everyone was drinking as much as they could get their hands on.

You had your eyes closed as you swayed along to the music. Everything felt good, the music, the alcohol, the adrenaline that came from parties like this, all of it was getting to you.

The plastic devil horns atop your head were crooked and your dress swished with your movements.You were in absolute bliss as you were dancing, the alcohol having hit your system a while ago and now having an effect on you.

Your mind was starting to get cloudy, and all you wanted to do was dance and drink some more.

And all Eddie could do was stare. This was you in your element, and far from his. You were magnetic, it wasn't surprising to Eddie that this is the girl who got all the guys, but that you wanted him was.

Eddie was sat against the wall, watching you from across the room. His stomach had done flips when he saw you walk into the party in that dress. You looked like sin, like a perfect representation of what it would feel like to go to hell.

Your dancing had picked up, the alcohol having definitely gotten to you now. You were giggling and laughing with your friends, your body swaying and moving to the beat of the music.

You could feel eyes on you, but even in your inebriated state you could tell who those eyes belonged too.

Eddie.

He was watching you.

He could see your smile falter as you looked at him, at how your arms almost dropped before you took another gulp of your drink and started dancing the night away. Eddie's heart thumped in his chest.

He was desperate to get up, get across the room and talk to you. Explain himself or apologise or just anything to get you to acknowledge him again, but he seemed frozen in place.

That's when Jason stumbled over, like an elephant in heels, drunk. "Yo, where's the good stuff?" Jason's voice bellowed out.

Eddie had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at Jason's stumbling form. "Good stuff?" He questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. "What 'good stuff' do you want here, Carver?"

Jason frowned, before scoffing. "The only reason you're here is because, first, I let you, and second, I got told you'd bring weed."

Eddie leaned back against the wall more, an unimpressed look on his face. "I mean, I do," he said, keeping his cards close to his chest. "But you really think I'd give any to you, of all people?"

Jason smirked, though it was anything but friendly. "Alright, I won't fight you in my house, but watch your back."

Eddie's eye twitched at the threat. Jason just made himself more unlikeable by the second, it was practically in his blood.

But he wasn't going to let Jason rile him up, not here. "Are you threatening me, Carver?" He said calmly, his arms uncrossing

"I don't know, am I?" Jason's friends let out barks of laughter.

Eddie clenched his jaw, feeling his blood start to boil. Jason was deliberately egging him on now. He took a breath in, trying to calm himself down. "You're a prick, you know that?"

Jason was done, his mouth twisted downwards before his fingers gripped Eddie by the shoulders and aggressively shoved Eddie against the wall. "Fuck you say?" The wind nearly got knocked out of Eddie from where Jason had shoved him.

The music and people around them continued to buzz and move around, oblivious to what was going on and what was about to unfold.

Eddie bared his teeth at Jason, his hands balling up into fists at his sides. He wanted to punch Jason, he should punch Jason.

Jason's goons began to each have their turn, and if they weren't, the cheered the others on.

It started off just being shove after shove, each one getting more and more aggressive. Eddie's head was soon ringing from the amount of times it had been slammed against the wall.

Each one of Jason's friends had a turn at shoving him until eventually Jason was the only one left

He leaned in close to Eddie, a wicked look on his face. "Any last words, freak?"

Eddie struggled against the hold of the people behind him, the blood in his veins pumping, ready to fight and scream and do anything to get out of what was happening. He was about to swear and scream at Jason as loudly as he could when suddenly your voice cut through the noise.

"Jason, what the hell are you doing?"

Everyone froze, including Eddie, his gaze moving from Jason to you as you stood a few feet away from them.

He had never been more grateful to hear your voice.

You were standing just off to the side, your arms crossed over your chest and a look of anger on your face.

Jason, however, seemed taken by surprise by your sudden presence. He dropped his grip on Eddie, before straightening himself out. "This doesn't concern you." He told you.

But you weren't listening to him, you were only looking at Eddie.

He looked back at you, holding eye contact for a moment and silently pleading for you to keep helping. He let out a sharp exhale, his breathing still heavy and his body tense. You took a step closer, putting yourself in the middle of everything.

"It clearly does if you're shoving Eddie into a wall." Your voice was controlled, but still sharp and loud as you said this.

Jason's eyebrow twitched up in confusion, before he unfitted Eddie's jacket and turned solely to you. "So you concerned for the freak?"

Eddie let out a scoff beside you, rolling his eyes at the comment from Jason.

You ignored him, still looking at Jason with a fire in your eyes. "Why were you beating him up, Jason?"

Jason's mouth gaped open for a moment, shocked from you asking him such a question. "You're taking his side over mine?" He asked, disbelief clear in his voice as he looked at you.

You were getting fed up now. Jason wasn't answering the question, he was just avoiding it. Typical. "Answer me." You said firmly.

Jason was practically reeling now, taken aback by your persistence. "He deserved it, alright?" He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You're a fucking piece of work," you scoffed before pushing past him, and grabbing Eddie by his wrist. "Come on."

Eddie stumbled along, his body still sore from being shoved against the wall and punched but he was grateful to get away from Jason and the rest of his goons.

He still couldn't believe you'd come and stood up for him, helped him even.

You dragged him to a bathroom, quickly shutting the door behind him. "What the hell was that? Your face is all busted."

Eddie leaned against the bathroom sink, breathing still heavy. He let out a forced laugh, a small smirk appearing on his face. "What, that? Just a regular day for me, sweetheart."

You gave him a look while you eyed the blood on his teeth. "This is the second time l've had to help your ass."

His smirk widened. "I'm starting to think all I need to get you to talk to me is to get my ass kicked." He said jokingly, his heart still racing from what had happened.

You sighed, before grabbing a dry wash cloth. You turned to the sink and dampened it.

A part of Eddie still couldn't believe you were here with him, after avoiding him all week and practically ignoring his existence.

You turned to him, silently, before pressing the cloth on his upper lip, letting the washcloth absorb some of his blood.

Eddie let out a slight whimper as the cloth connected with his lip. It stung slightly, his lip must have been split from all the punching.

He was still so tempted to reach out and touch you instead of this wash cloth, his fingers twitching at his sides.

Eddie stood there silently as you cleaned up the blood on his face. His heart was racing, his mind reeling and his body practically begging to touch you, to take you in his arms.

But he didn't. He stood there and stayed silent, watching you work.

Once enough of his blood was gently wiped away, you turned the cloth over and wet it again, before pressing it on the mark above his eyebrow.

He let out a sharp exhale through his nose, his eyes following your every movement. He was desperate to keep his cool, he desperately tried to stay calm.

You were so close to him, he could feel you breathe and smell your perfume again, it was driving him wild.

"Okay," you sighed. "I think you're fine now."

Eddie felt his heart drop when you said that. He didn't want you to stop, he wanted you to continue running that washcloth over his skin, touching him, holding his face.

He just wanted to be the subject of your touches again, especially now.

The washcloth was lowered, you were done cleaning him up.

He was silently begging for you to keep touching him, please god keep touching him, but all he was met with was your gaze, and neither of you said anything at all. You were only looking at each other, the bathroom being quiet except for the muffled music from the party outside.

You took him in, how his eyes were a lighter, honey brown if in the light, how his hair is now a bit more unruly, begging for you to run your hand through it. He was beautiful in ways that you couldn't admit.

Eddie's heart thumped in his chest as he returned your gaze. He was staring so intensely at you, his eyes wandering down your face and body, taking in your appearance.

You were practically stunning to him, hell, to anyone with eyes.

The way the dress fit your body and hugged you in all the right places, the way your hair was styled, your makeup that accentuated your features, and even the pointy, red horns sat on top your head, it all drove him mad.

"Eddie...?" Your voice was almost a whisper as you spoke, feeling the fronts of your shoes meet his.

He swallowed, the sound of you saying his name sending a shiver down his spine.

He could feel your body so close to his, the tips of your shoes meeting his own, it was so close to being too much for him but he was too lost in you to care. He could barely think, let alone answer.

But he let out a weak, "Yeah?"

You took in a long breath. "Please kiss me."

Those words sounded like music to his ears.

His eyes widened for just a moment, processing what you had said, before he quickly composed himself.

Without hesitation, he surged forward and captured your lips in a kiss, and a copper, metallic taste entered your mouth. His hands went straight to your waist, pushing you against the bathroom counter.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you let your arms fall around his neck, and allowing yourself to get lost in him.

You needed this as much as he did.

His lips were frantic as he kissed you, like he was starved of your touch.

Eddie had missed this so much, being able to hold you like this, even if he got to experience it only once. His lips began to move desperately against your own, his grip on your waist getting tighter and tighter.

A low moan escaped his lips as your fingers tugged and played with his hair, the feeling driving him wild. You let out a sigh into the kiss when you felt his thick rings dig into your waist, not hating the feeling.

He desperately tried to get even closer to you, closing any space between you, his tongue poking against your tongue desperately.

You felt him bend at the knees slightly, taking this as a sign to jump, allowing for him to drop you onto the counter. Eddie's heart skipped a beat when your legs wrapped around him like this, pulling his body flush against yours.

He leaned in even closer, his lips travelling over your face and down your neck, kissing and nibbling on the sensitive spots.

You gasped, craning your head to give him more access to your neck. A moan tangled up in your throat when Eddie found that one sweet spot.

He continued to kiss and nibble on that one specific spot, his hands going to rub up and down your thighs.

The music blared and the ground gently shook with the bass notes.

His hips were beginning to slowly move with the rhythm, his body completely pushed up against yours.

One of his hands crept up higher, beginning to fiddle with the hem of your dress. His hand was still fiddling with the hem of your dress, his mouth still on your neck, kissing and nibbling, but he paused.

In a low voice, he muttered, "Can I...?"

"Please." You begged, whined. The tone of your voice sent a thrill through him, hearing you like that.

His fingers began to edge your dress higher, slowly revealing more and more of your bare thighs to his touch. The edge of your dress was now pushed up, his hand resting on the bare area of your thigh.

He was completely entranced, the feeling of your bare skin against his touch sent waves of heat through his body.

The room was getting warmer as he continued to kiss and suck on your neck.

His hand was still slowly trailing up your bare thigh, his fingers leaving a trail of fire wherever they went.

You wanted to stay in this moment forever, but you knew time wasn't on your side, so you hastily grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand between your legs, letting him feel your soaked underwear.

His breathing quickened, his body feeling like there was a livewire running through him. He pressed his palm flat against your mound, trying to keep from losing control right there.

"Oh god..." He groaned, his head dropping so the side of his face was now up against your neck. You could feel his fingers twitch against you, eager, so very eager to touch you further.

You nudged your hips against his palm and whined, "Touch me, Eds."

A rush of heat shot through his body at the sound of your voice, begging him, wanting him.

He couldn't resist, not anymore.

His hand began to move, his nimble fingers gently rubbing against you, up and down, circling in all the right places.

Eddie’s lips continued to kiss along your neck, his breathing getting heavier as he did so.

His calloused fingers pressed against your underwear, but it wasn't enough, at least, not for him. Eddie's fingertips moved to the side before he pulled your panties to the side, his ringed brushed against your folds as he did.

Eddie had to move his head back, breaking the kiss with a gasp, he had to see you.

You gasped as soon as you felt his fingers against your folds, no longer blocked by your panties.

Eddie's face was a picture as he looked down, his fingers gently rubbing and circling against you.

He could feel himself growing harder with each second passing. "Fuck..." He groaned, unable

He was struggling to form sentences now, every thought in his brain was consumed with how you felt against him, how you sounded, it was almost too much to handle.

"You're so pretty." He said hoarsely, his hips bucking lightly, into the air, out of instinct.

A grin split on your kiss-bruised, lipstick smudged lips as you looked at him through your hooded eyes. "You think so?"

Seeing you look at him like that, seeing how ruined you looked already did something to him.

"I'm positive, sweetheart," he managed to choke out, still rubbing and circling against you with his fingers. His head dropped back down against your neck, he was practically incapable of holding himself back anymore from you. "Need to taste you." He said against your skin, his breath hot against you.

"We don't have much time." You sulked, hips jerking when his finger went over that one extra sensitive nerve.

He chuckled breathlessly against your neck, his fingers continuing their constant pattern against you, trying to get as many little gasps and moans as he could.

"I'll just have to be quick then, sweetheart." He told you, his voice low and gruff against you.

You nodded, watching him step back, his dark eyes watched your arousal in awe, unable to believe one of his wishes were coming true. He wet his lips, before he fell onto his knees.

Your eyes followed him, his body now between your legs. He stared at you like you were a meal set down in front of him, already salivating at the thought of what he was going to do.

And when his eyes looked up at you, for approval, you swore you were looking down at an angel. It was ironic, how you—dressed as the devil, stared down at the angel.

You bent forward so that your hand moved to cradle his jaw. "You sure you'll be okay with your lip all busted?"

Eddie leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as he relished in the feeling of your skin against his. His head was already swimming in a haze of lust, too far gone to even care at this point.

"The only thing I'm worried about right now is tasting you." He said confidently, his eyes opening to meet yours again.

His fingers fanned out over your thighs before he dipped his head forward. At first, you flinched as his hairs ticked your inner thighs before a gasp fell from your lips when his tongue planed out over your folds.

A low rumble sounded in his throat when he finally, finally, tasted you after almost a week of waiting.

His tongue swiped over you, slow and firm, wanting to savor every second of this. He closed his eyes to focus on you, on how you tasted, on how you felt against his tongue

He began to speed up with his tongue, determined to get more sounds from you, more of those gasps and moans that he loved so much.

Eddie squeezed your thighs as he worked, his lips and tongue moving in perfect unison

He could feel the way your body trembled against his touch, how you twitched and squeezed as he continued to taste and tease you. It was all pushing him further, the sound of you alone was driving him wild.

Your fingers were in his hair, weaving into his coils of brown, pushing him deeper into you while he threw your legs over his shoulders. A moan vibrated against your skin at the feeling of you pulling his hair, the pressure spurring him on further.

He pushed further between your legs, burying his face against you as he continued to taste and lick you. His own thighs were clenching hard at the sound of your gasps and moans, the little whimpers that escaped your mouth, it was almost too much.

"Oh, Eddie. Right there." You mewled when his tongue swirled inside you. You gazed down at him, seeing his nose peer out before disappearing, feeling it bump your swollen clit.

Eddie kept his tongue right where it was, determined to keep you making those sweet sounds, not even daring to move to where you needed him most. He wanted to keep you on the edge, making you crave more and more.

His tongue was working quickly, lapping and licking up every bit of you that he could reach. He pulled you as close as he could, wanting to feel your thighs wrapped tight around his head as he continued to taste you. He couldn't get enough of you, desperate to get even more of you

He pulled back just for a moment to gasp for breath, looking up at you with wild eyes.

Eddie's voice was hoarse when he spoke, "You look so pretty when l've got my tongue in you, sweetheart."

Your stomach ruptured, and you gave him a shy smile. "You look pretty when your tongue’s in me." You moved one hand away from his head and clasped it around his fingers on your right thigh.

He chuckled softly, his face and lips glistening from being between your legs. He interlocked his fingers with yours as he looked up at you with darkened eyes, wanting you so desperately. "That the only place you think my tongue looks good?"

You flushed. "You know that's not what I meant," you groaned. "Your tongue looks great...anywhere, and you look pretty all the time."

He grinned at your reaction, the redness in your cheeks sending another wave of heat through him.

He slowly, very slowly, rose back up to his feet. Even then, he still had you held against the counter, his body held flush against yours. "All the time?" He repeated, his voice low. "You really think I'm always pretty?"

"Yes." You leant forward to capture his lips, tasting your arousal on them and happily licking it off.

You didn't miss the way Eddie 'oh-so-casually' slipped one of his chunky rings off-the giant skull one with fangs, the one he kept on his ring finger— and slid it onto your ring finger before he grasped your waist, pulling you into his and groaning when he felt you bare against the tent in his jeans, warm and weeping through the fabric.

His lips parted almost immediately as soon as your tongue met his, allowing you to taste yourself against his tongue.

Eddie let out another deep moan as he felt you rubbing against him, his hands gripping your waist hard enough to leave marks.

His head was spinning at the feeling of you grinding against him, his body slowly moving in time with you. It was almost too much and yet he wanted even more.

He was all too eager, his hands quickly moved off you and found his thick, studded belt, before hastily undoing the buckle.

He was a frenzy of movement in those brief few moments, tugging and yanking at his belt, his fingers fumbling slightly with the buckle.

His jeans felt too tight, too painful against him, the only thing on his mind was the need to feel more of you.

In an instant, his pants were off, leaving him in his patterned underwear, that was black with small designs of devil inspired prints.

And when you looked down, you had to swallow, it was always the more reserved ones that carried an impressive length, and you could see that now. He was standing over you, his legs bracketing yours, left in his boxers that were now sporting a sizeable bulge.

He was watching you intently, seeing the way your eyes roamed over his body and down to his boxers, seeing the hunger in your eyes.

His eyes were darkened, his skin beginning to glisten with a thin sheen of sheen, the air around him becoming thick with tension.

Your hand latched and squeezed him through the fabric.

"Fuck." The word came out in a hiss, his head tilting back as a shudder wracked his body at your touch. He let out a shaky breath, having to steady himself because of how weak you were making him from the simple touch.

His body was aching for you, his mind completely focused on wanting to feel more of you.

"Talk to me, Eds. I like the sound of your voice." You told him softly, feeling him twitch in your palm.

His breathing was eradicated as he tried to think, barely able to form a coherent thought with the way your palm was against him, gripping him.

He managed to let out a huff, his eyes opening slightly to look down at you again. "It's hard to...to talk when you're..."

He didn't even try to finish the sentence, one of his hands coming down to firmly grip your hip, his fingers digging in.

"When I'm what? You don't wanna talk to me?" You feigned a pout while you squeezed him harder, grinning like the cheshire cat when you felt a blotch of wetness grow in your palm.

A strangled choking sound escaped him as he felt you squeeze him even more, his hips bucking ever so slightly. His breathing was getting heavier, his grip on your hip became stronger as he tried to keep from losing control.

He wanted to say something, anything to you, but when he opened his mouth, no words came out, only a soft, whiny moan that sounded desperate even to his own ears.

"Hmm, so you don't want to talk, I guess I'll have to stop."

The whine that escaped his mouth as you said that was almost pitiful to hear, it was the sound a dog makes when their bone gets taken away.

In an instant, his hand was on your wrist, stopping you from moving as he looked down at you.

"No, please, don't..." He pleaded, his voice hoarse. His face was a mixture of frustration and pure yearning.

He was desperate for you, and you knew it.

His body was pressed against yours as he held your hand, the heat from his skin almost burning you. He was all but pleading with you, his eyes almost desperate.

He was close to losing control, his mind becoming completely consumed by you and your touch. All he could think about was how his body was aching for you, to feel you, to be closer to you.

"Then let me hear you."

A shiver ran down his spine at the sound of your voice, he let out a shaky breath before nodding.

"Okay," he whimpered, his own voice was still slightly hoarse. "Just...please, don't stop." He whined, giving you a pleading look, his dark eyes begging you.

You shrugged, wriggling your fingers against his boner. With your other hand, you pried his hand off yours before moving yours up and pushing his hair out of his face. "My sweet Eds," you cooed. "Tell me what you're thinking, what you're feeling."

The gentle touch of your hand against his hair had his eyes fluttering, a shiver running through his body at your touch.

He let out a slow shaky breath, trying to focus his thoughts enough to form a coherent sentence and answer your question.

"I...I can't think about anything other than you," he admitted, his voice wavering. "You're all I want to think about...all I can think about."

Your eyes softened as you continued to palm him, feeling yourself clench around nothing at the poor sight in front of you. "Yeah?"

His eyes closed as he felt your hand against him again, a stifled moan slipping from his lips before he spoke again, trying to keep his breathing steady.

He nodded, opening his eyes again to look into yours. "I've wanted you for so... for so long...so goddamn long."

His pupils were blown, and his eyes were glazed over. "And now you have me." You told him.

Eddie nodded again, his hands moving to grip your hips again, pulling your body as close to his as possible. His breathing became quicker, his eyelids fluttering at your words, feeling himself becoming a complete mess under your touch.

His voice was low and strained when he spoke, "I need you...I need you so badly."

"What do you need, baby? What do you need me to do?"

He groaned again, his mind becoming even more consumed by you as he heard that pet name fall from your lips.He couldn't think straight, his words coming out in a rushed, low tone. "I need to feel more, I need to be closer to you. Please?”

"And how do you suppose we fix that problem?" Your head tipped to the side, devil horns tipping to, while Eddie was almost falling into you, your hand relentlessly grinding against him.

A strangled sound escaped him at your question, his hips bucking slightly involuntarily. His eyes were hazy, completely consumed by you and the feeling of your palm against him.

He let out a shaky breath, and through gritted teeth, he managed to speak. "I need—I need to be inside you."

You nodded, agreeing with his statement. You moved your hand up before hooking it onto the waistband of his underwear and pulling it down, exposing him, hard, throbbing, and begging for you.

He was beautiful, he had an impressive girth and a length that had your salivating. A flush pink tip that lead to vines of veins and a surprisingly trimmed bush.

Your breath hitched as you looked down at him, seeing how hard he was for you, how he was already leaking from just your touch alone. The sight of him like this was almost too much, the knowledge that it was you that had him in this wrecked state caused an ache of desire to run through you.

Eddie felt too hot under your gaze and quickly removed his shirt, exposing the few tattoos he had to you.

He was almost feverish as he looked down at you again, desperate to be closer to you. His eyes roamed over your face, taking in every little detail and memorizing every little thing.

His body was hot and flushed, his breathing fast and heavy. He needed you, wanted you more than anything right now.

His eyes then flickered to behind you, at the mirror then at the sink. "Won't you be uncomfortable on this?" He asked you.

You followed his gaze over your shoulder, seeing the mirror behind you. Then you looked back at him, seeing the idea on his face. You hummed in agreement, the surface under you wasn't the most comfortable.

Your thighs were already a little numb from being sat against it for so long.

"Come here, sweetheart. I'll hold you." He took a step back and opened his arms.

You gave him a small smile before sliding off the counter, a shiver running down your spine when your legs protested at the movement. Carelessly, you threw yourself at him, feeling his cock press against your tummy while you kissed him once more.

Eddie caught you easily in his arms, keeping you close to him as he returned the kiss. His lips moved against yours, needy and desperate. His body ached for you, craving your touch and your presence.

His fingers found the zipper of your dress, before tugging it out, releasing you from its confines. Eddie shouldn't have been surprised you chose not to sport a bra, yet he was.

His eyes fell down to your bare breasts when your dress slipped from your body, a shudder running through his entire body at the sight.

He was completely enraptured by your body, drinking in every inch of you. A low, guttural moan rumbled in his chest as his eyes roamed across your torso. His hands came up to your body, his fingertips brushing along your skin, exploring your bare flesh slowly, caressing you softly. He touched you as if you were something to be worshipped and admired, as if you were priceless.

He let out another shuddering breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "God, you're beautiful."

His hands were moving, slowly going to your sides, roaming over your hips. He was relishing in the feel of finally being this close to you, skin against skin.

His lips moved from your mouth down to your neck, trailing wet kisses against your skin, biting and sucking, wanting to mark you, to claim you as his.

Eddie’s hands were restless, unable to stay in one place as they continued to roam across your body slowly, as if mapping you out.

He was leaving a trail of lovebites down your neck, wanting to claim you in any way he could. His body was aching, aching for you.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned your body around.

His body pressed flush against your back as he turned you around, his lips still against your skin, reluctant to leave your body but knowing what he wanted to do next.

He continued to kiss and nip at your skin, marking you wherever he could as he slowly guided you forward towards the mirror.

Even though Eddie crumbled under your touch, he still has some control. His hand pressed between your shoulder blades and pushed you forwards, having you arch into him.

Every movement he made was slow and deliberate, controlling your body as he wanted. Eddie moved his body against yours, wanting to be as close to you as possible, his hands gripping firmly on your hips.

"Please? Please fuck me, Eds?" Your voice choked out, you were barely one to beg, but Eddie had that effect on you. His hands tightened on your hips at the sound of your voice, a growl of satisfaction escaping him. His body shuddered at how you called out to him, begging him for what you wanted.

"I will, baby. I'll give you everything." He leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back, as he nuzzled into your neck, his mouth against your ear.

Your eyes met his through the mirror while he kissed your shoulder.

The sight of the two of you in the mirror fueled his desire even more, seeing all of you pressed up against him, exposed to him.

Eddie continued to kiss your shoulder, working his way up to your ear, his hands holding you firmly in place. He knew he had you at his complete mercy, and it only made him want you more.

You gasped when you felt his leaky tip nudge at your dripping folds, unconsciously spreading your legs further apart.

Your reaction caused him to let out a low growl, his hands gripping you even tighter as if to hold himself back.

Eddie was trying to control himself, trying to take it slow, but the feel of your body against his was almost too much.

He nipped at your ear before he spoke, his voice rough and low, "You're so wet, just for me," his breathing was heavy, his chest expanding and contracting against your back as he tried to keep control. Feeling you move against him, trying to get a better position, just made him want to lose himself, to take you right then and there. "You want this?" Eddie asked you, his voice a deep rumble against your ear.

You nodded, eyes on him in the mirror.

"Use your words, baby. I need to hear it from you," Eddie murmured against your ear, his body pressing even closer against yours, trapping you against the cold surface of the mirror and his hot body. "You wanted me to speak but baby can't do it herself."

You let out a breath. "Please, Eddie? I want you so bad. I need to feel you in me."

His resolve broke a split second after your words. He couldn't deny you when you were like this, begging him, needing him, wanting him.

Eddie let out a shaky breath, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he muttered, "I've got you…I've got you, sweets."

Your lips drew together when you felt his tip press at your puckering entrance, brow quivering when he began to push in.

Eddie was going slow, his hands gripping you tightly, his breathing coming out in quick, hot puffs against your skin as he inched further and further in.

Feeling you around him was almost too much; he could barely form a thought. It was all you, all he could think about was how damn good you felt, how perfect you were. He was completely consumed by you.

Eddie let out another low moan, his body shaking from the effort it took to hold back. He wanted to give you a moment to adjust to him, to take in the feeling.

His hands were trembling against your skin, his breathing heavy as he nuzzled against your neck, "You're so goddamn perfect," he rasped, "You're taking me so well, sweetheart."

Your eyes fluttered closed as he pushed in further, the feeling of him filling you so completely, so perfectly.

Your hands found the mirror and dug into the cold surface, trying to find something to anchor yourself to as you were overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you.

You could hardly think, hardly breathe.

All you could focus on was the way he felt, and the sounds of his heavy, stilted breath in your ear, "So beautiful."

His ring on your left hand felt heavy, yet it had never felt so right. Your thighs clenched together when he pulled out before shoving himself back in, a moan tumbling from your lips. All you could do was moan, your body trembling as he moved inside you.

Eddie filled you completely, every movement sending waves of pleasure through your body. You couldn't get enough of him, you wanted more, you needed more.

You pushed back against him, craving more contact, more friction. Your legs were shaking, your mind a haze as you gasped, "Ed—Eddie."

"I know, sweet girl." Eddie whispered while he kissed dark marks into your skin.

His lips moved from your ear to your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses along your skin. He was marking you, claiming you as his, leaving behind a reminder of who you belonged to.

Eddie's body was pressed firmly against yours, keeping you trapped against the mirror, taking you exactly how he wanted. He wanted to see every reaction, to feel every single move your body made.

He stood up, so he couldn't properly fuck you (though to him it was more). His eyes landed on yours in the mirror, before his hips snapped back into yours, sending you pummelling into the glass.

His fingers dug into your hips as he pulled back, leaving you feeling suddenly empty for a brief moment before he thrusted back into you, hard. Eddie wanted you to feel him in every way possible, he needed you to know how much he wanted, how much he craved you.

The sight in the mirror was enough alone to drive him wild, seeing your bodies intertwined together like this

He continued to move against you, his eyes watching your face from over your shoulder, gauging each change in expression, every gasp and moan that left your lips. He looked at the sight of the two of you in the mirror- he was completely entranced.

"You look so beautiful like this, baby," he mused, his voice low and rough, "So perfect for me."

His hands slid up from your hips to your sides, his touch hot and possessive against you. Eddie continued to move inside you, his body pressed against you so close that you couldn't move much, even if you tried. You gasped in response, his words sending a shiver down your spine. You were completely lost in him, in the feeling of him inside you, around you.

You wanted him closer, you needed more of him.

You leaned up on your toes, your fingers wrapping around the counter's edge before you moved back against him, grinding and taking him deeper.

Eddie let out a guttural moan as you moved back against him, taking him in deeper than before. His body trembled with the effort to control himself. He was losing himself in you, his need for you overpowering his restraint.

His hands held onto you tightly, keeping you as close as possible, "You're gonna drive me crazy, sweetheart."

You managed to give him a small grin through the mirror as you rocked back into him, feeling a warmth grow in your lower belly.

Eddie tightened his grip on you, his breath hot against your skin as he spoke, "You're so damn beautiful, so goddamn perfect."

He could feel you clenching around him, the building of pleasure between you both. His mind was a haze of lust and need, his body moving against yours as he tried to hold

Eddie could feel himself getting close, his movements becoming more erratic, more desperate. "Baby—," he gasped, his voice low and rough, "I'm getting close, I don't—I don't know if I can hold back."

His hands were tight on your hips, his body moving against yours with a frenzied pace, his breath hot against your skin. He needed release,

Eddie was so close, his body shaking with the effort of holding back. "Baby, please?" He gasped, his voice strained and needy, “Please? I can't hold back any longer."

He was completely lost in you, completely overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through his body. All he could think about was how good you felt, how to let go.

His touch sent a shiver through your body, and a low moan escaped his lips.

Eddie was right on the edge, and your words just pushed him further.

"Please, I-I need to, I need to—." He was struggling to form coherent thoughts, his mind overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through him.

Your ability to stand began to weaken, having a cock pummel in and out of you while having your clit passionately flicked was doing a number on you. "You-You can cum, Eddie baby. Need to f-feel you."

Your words were like a switch, pushing him over the edge. A sharp groan escaped his lips as he let go, his body shuddering against you. He buried his face into your neck, biting down on the sensitive skin as he came hard, his body shaking from the intensity of his release.

Eddie tried to form words, tried to speak, but all he could manage was a breathless moan of your name, "Baby...baby, oh my, fuck!" You felt him spill deep inside you, the feeling had you mewling out.

It was enough to knock you over the edge.

He felt you clench around him, and it sent another shiver through his body. He held you close to him, supporting your weight as you quivered against him.

Eddie let out a content sigh as he nuzzled into your neck, "You're so goddamn perfect, baby. So damn perfect for me. Please cum, cum for me?" He wanted to feel you come undone, to feel you lose yourself in the pleasure he was giving you. Eddie continued to press kisses against your neck, his arms holding you tight, "I want to feel you, sweetheart. I need to.”

Eddie was overwhelmed by you, in awe of how you could affect him so deeply, so completely. He loved how you surrendered yourself to him, how you let him take control. It was like an addiction, and he wanted more

Your eyes rolled back, and you arched away from his chest before you orgasmed, like a dam wall collapsing, your toes curled and your throat was raw, the alice band on your head was almost falling off.

Eddie held you through it, his arms tight around you, his body pressed against yours. He could feel the waves of pleasure coursing through you, ripple through him as well.

He let out a shaky sigh, completely undone by you. He held you close, whispering praises in your ear, "So beautiful, so good. You're so good for me, sweetheart. You did really fucking well."

Your body went limp in his hold, as you leant into his touch.

Eddie held you against him, he fixed your alice band before his hands were running soothingly over your skin, tracing gentle patterns against your body. He nuzzled into your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke, "I've got you, baby. I've got you."

He held you close, his chest rising and falling slowly against your back as he tried to catch his breath, still in awe of the intense pleasure you'd both just experienced.

Eddie held you there for a while, at it suddenly came all rushing back. You felt the bass from the music downstairs resonate against your feet, and the yelling and cheers of people.

The sounds from downstairs began to pull you out of the content, blissful state you were in, reminding you of the world beyond the bathroom, beyond this intimate moment you shared with Eddie.

The harsh reality of the party was a stark contrast to the tenderness of your time together.

With a long, heavy sigh. You pulled your dress up, and flattened it while Eddie pulled his pants up.

Eddie watched you, a sense of melancholy in his gaze as you both re-adjusted your clothing, trying to make yourselves presentable again. He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to tame it back to some level of 'normal'.

Quite content, you turned around to face Eddie before throwing your arms around his neck and embracing him. "That was..." You dreamily sighed.

He chuckled softly, returning your embrace tightly, his arms wrapping around your waist. He buried his face in your neck, nuzzling against your skin,

"That was... something else. You drive me crazy, you know that?"

You grinned up at him, feeling his nose nudge yours when a loud knock and voice intruder your moment.

"Are you two done fucking? I need to piss!"

Eddie groaned, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder. "Of course," he muttered, sounding annoyed, yet still holding onto you tightly. "Of course someone's got to ruin the moment."

You grumbled something in return before taking a step back and to the door, before throwing it open.

Your eyes, your eyes now red with anger, landed on Caity Stewart, in some terribly cheap costume that was supposed to be some animal. "Run the fuck away before I gag you with yogurt, again." You huffed.

Caity's eyes widened like a deer in headlights, and a flicker of fear crossed her features when she realized who was standing in front of her.

She took a shaky step back, her voice tremulous as she protested, "I just need to use the bathroom!"

"Go piss in a fucking bush." You snarled.

Caity's face turned beet red. Humiliation and anger flared in her eyes, but you could see the fear still there, like a tiny ember ready to flare at any moment.

"You-You can't just—!" She protested, but stumbled over her words, clearly intimidated by the harshness in your tone.

"Three..."

Caity trembled under your glare, her earlier confidence gone. She looked like a cornered animal, trapped and scared. You could see her mind racing, trying to figure an escape route, but finding none.

She took another step away from you, holding up her hands in surrender. "I—'ll just... go." She stuttered, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Two!"

Caity's eyes widened further as your countdown ticked down. She took another step back, her back hitting the wall of the hallway now, nowhere else to run.

She swallowed hard, her voice quivering as she pleaded, "Please, just let me—!"

"O—." You were about to yell when you felt a force tug you on your wrist, sending you backwards and into Eddie's chest.

"Nope! We've had enough fights tonight. Uh, Caity, I do however suggest you run along, I can't hold her back forever, sorry!"

Caity didn't need to be told twice. She took the out Eddie offered and ran, her footsteps disappearing down the stairs. Eddie's arms wrapped around you, holding you against his chest as he chuckled, "You would think she'd learn by now not to piss you off."

You sighed, spinning in his grip. "Ah well, those who fail to learn from history...and so on."

He chuckled softly, his hands resting on your hips as he gazed down at you. "You really did scare the piss out of her, you know that?"

You gave him a look. "Don't tell me the bitch pissed herself."

He chuckled, the mental image clearly amusing to him. "No, no, she didn't piss herself. But—," he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, "I did see a spot on the front of her costume."

You snorted, thwacking his chest. "You're evil."

He feigned pain, dramatically clutching his chest where you'd thwacked him.

"Me? Evil?" He retorted, grinning. "That's rich coming from the girl who just scared someone shitless."

"Okay, touché."

He laughed, his arms wrapping around your waist again, pulling you closer to him. "You're fierce, baby, you know that? It's kind of hot, watching you scare the piss outta Caity."

You raised an eyebrow. "So that's why you weren't afraid of me? 'Cause you found me hot?"

He chuckled, his fingers gently fiddling with the horns on your head. "Oh no, babe. I was scared shitless of you.” He grinned, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

He looked down at you, his gaze playful.

"But yeah, you're hot as hell when you're pissed off. Can you blame me? Uh, seriously speaking," he said, his voice dropping lower, "I'm still wary of your wrath. But I can't help but find it," he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear, "Arousing."

You clicked your tongue. "I'm still sore, partner. Rain check?"

Eddie chuckled as he pulled back, a lopsided grin on his lips. "Can't blame a man for trying," he said, placing a light kiss on your forehead. He took a step back, still holding onto your hand, and glanced down the hallway. "Come on, we better get back downstairs before we get any more unwanted interruptions."

He lead you downstairs, fingers loosely holding onto yours and somehow going unseen by everyone there.

Though he couldn't help but feel anxious at school the next week, not that he was embarrassed of you, but he knew what some people would think.

Eddie had a feeling some of his friends at school would think him crazy. Hell, they might not even believe that he had you - that you were his. They might mock him, taunt him, or even accuse him of making it all up.

But deep down, he knew none of that mattered. He had you, and to him, that was all that counted. He squeezed your hand gently, the small gesture his silent reassurance.

So, he took a deep breath in, and this time tightly gripped your hand as you walked through the thick doors at school. Eddie gave everyone bashful smiles while no one dared to look at you the wrong way.

You felt the eyes of your peers on you, some with curiosity, others with envy, others with disdain. It was the same faces you'd seen day after day in school, but today they seemed more... judgemental.

But at your side was Eddie, and his presence alone was enough to keep them in line. His grip on your hand was tight, a silent declaration to the world that you were his.

Jason stopped you, of course he did. "So you actually did it? You fucked the freak. How'd it feel to finally lose your virginity, freak?"

Eddie had anticipated some backlash from his peers, but the audacity of Jason's comment still caught him off guard.

He bristled, trying to keep his composure even as anger flared in his eyes. "Watch your mouth, Carver." He warned, his voice a low growl.

You hummed, agreeing with Eddie.

"You're just upset because he didn't lay there limp, it's okay though, maybe one day you'll make the big leagues and make a woman cum." You shot Jason a snarky grin before pushing past him, dragging Eddie along

Jason's face turned red, his expression a mix of embarrassment and anger. He stuttered for a moment, surprised by your boldness, before regaining his composure.

Eddie couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter as he followed you, clearly amused by your quip. "Damn, babe," he chuckled, "You definitely know how to knock someone down a peg."

You leaned into his embrace. "No one gets to talk shit about you, you hear?"

Eddie's arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. He smiled at your declaration, his heart swelling with affection for you.

"You're too good to me, you know that?" He said, placing a gentle kiss on your temple.

Lunch was awkward that day, you and Eddie stood side by side, holding your trays, not knowing where to sit, who to sit with.

Eddie cast a cautious glance around the lunchroom, sizing up the different cliques and groups. He wasn't sure where to sit, where the two of you would fit in.

He fidgeted with the rings on his fingers, the familiar nervous habit kicking in as he weighed the options. He could feel the stares from the other students, studying the both of you like a zoo exhibit.

You looked at your friends, Darcy and Margret both eyeing you, wanting you with them, while Eddie looked upon his group, Dustin, Gareth, Mike and Jeff all looking at him, wanting him to sit with them.

The looks from your friends were imploring, while the gazes from his buddies were pleading. The air was thick with tension, like everyone was holding their breath, waiting to see what choice the two of you would make.

Eddie swallowed hard, his hand clenching around his tray as he looked from his friends back to you. He didn't know what to do, didn't know who to choose.

You clicked your tongue, before grabbing Eddie by a belt loop and pulling him with you, to your table.

He stumbled after you, his tray nearly tipping over in surprise as you dragged him to your table. Eyes followed the both of you, watching the spectacle play out.

The table you sat at was occupied by your friends, each of them watching as you sat down, pulling Eddie to sit beside you. Tension lingered in the air, thick and palpable.

Margret shifted uncomfortably, not with Eddie, but with the lingering secret she had sitting on the other side of the room, while Darcy was indifferent.

Jason and his friends gawked while Chrissy silently cheered you on.

Eddie could feel the weight of everyone's gazes, but he tried to ignore it, focusing his attention on you. He fidgeted with the rings on his hands, feeling more out of place by the minute.

He glanced across the cafeteria, catching sight of Jason and his group glaring at him. He could tell they weren't happy, probably mocking and jeering at the sight of him sitting with you.

Your eyes shot to Jason. "Get lost."

Jason scowled, clearly not expecting your sharp retort. The cocky expression on his face faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, shooting back a cocky smirk. "Just surprised is all. Surprised you'd actually want the company of a freak like Munson."

"Get lost, Carver. You can go sit with the chess club or something, I don't care, just fuck off." You spat.

Jason scoffed, looking offended at the jab aimed at him and his friends. "We're more useful to this school than he'll ever be," he shot back, gesturing to Eddie. "You've got to be an idiot to think he's worth your time, he's a washed-up, drug dealer loser."

You didn't need to think twice, grabbing a handful of your spaghetti (props to the lunch lady) and hurled it at Jason. "Fuck off."

The spaghetti hit Jason square in the face, a messy splat of sauce and pasta clinging to his skin and shirt. He recoiled, a mix of shock and anger on his face as the cafeteria erupted in gasp and murmurs.

Jason's friends sat with eyes wide, jaws nearly on the floor as they watched the scene unfold. They looked stunned, unsure how to react.

Your eyes flicked to them. "You boys want a taste?" You asked, picking up your pudding cup next. The boys looked back at you, their expressions a mix of shock and uncertainty. None of them seemed eager to be hit with pudding, but they were too stunned to say anything.

Jason, however, was furious, wiping away the spaghetti mess on his face. "You are unbelievable." He seethed, his face red with anger and sauce.

"What was that? You want a meatball shoved down your jugular?" You almost growled.

Jason's eyes widened in alarm, his bravado faltering for a moment. Clearly, he hadn't anticipated that level of hostility from you.

He stood up, his hands raised in surrender. "You're insane," he retorted, moving away slowly. "Completely nuts."

"Oh, and you want carrot sticks up your ass?!"

The cafeteria let out a collective gasp, some of them giggling as they watched the heated exchange. Eddie stifled a laugh of his own, clearly enjoying the show.

Jason's face turned a shade of red that seemed almost unnatural. "You—!" He sputtered, trying and failing to come up with a retort.

"I think you should move along, Carver." Eddie said through a grin which he tried to hide behind his hair.

Jason was seething, his face still tomato red. For a moment, it looked like he might try to argue back, but the sight of both you and Eddie, along with the entire cafeteria watching them, made him back down.

He huffed, his eyes shooting daggers in your direction as he turned and stalked away, his friends trailing behind him.

You sighed, grabbing a serviette and wiping your hand. "Eddie, baby. Sit down, I'm coming back." You told him.

He nodded, still grinning broadly, clearly both surprised and entertained by your confrontation with Jason.

He sat down, still trying to hide his grin behind his bangs, watching as you began to walk off.

You weren't dumb, and you of course knew everything. It pained you that your best friend didn't tell you, but you were happy for her.

You walked over to Eddie's now old table, and went around to Gareth. "Clyde? James? You."

The boy looked up at you in surprise, unsure of what to expect after the scene you'd just caused. Gareth's eyes widened, and wouldn't tell you that you got his name wrong, again!

"Uh, yeah? What's up?" Gareth asked, a hint of trepidation in his voice.

"Come. There's a seat open next to Margie," you gave him no time to reply before you turned to the rest of the boys. "I may not like all of you, still, and some of you may not like me," you eyed Dustin who hadn't said anything. "But, since I am dating your dearest friend, and I'm not a complete bitch, there are open seats at my table if you'd like to join, I know Eddie would be highly appreciative."

The boys exchanged glances, surprised by your invitation. They were still reeling from your confrontation with Jason, and now here you were, offering them a seat at your table.

Gareth spoke first, standing up with a small smirk. "Think Munson would hate our guts if we didn't join you." He said, picking up his tray.

The rest of the boys followed suit, some a bit hesitant, others curious about your unexpected gesture.

You gave him a small smile before you turned back around and walked back to your table, happily plopping down next to Eddie.

Eddie watched as the boys approached the table, a hint of surprise still flickering in his eyes. He looked at you, a little dumbfounded.

"Did you just... invite them to sit with us?" He asked, his voice tinged with shock and amusement.

You took his hand. "Yep, I don't want you to hate your life sitting here, baby." His expression softened, a small smile playing on his lips.

Eddie squeezed your hand appreciatively. "You're something else, you know that?"

The boys settled around the table, their eyes darting between you and Eddie, stilli trying to wrap their heads around the whole situation.

As the boys settled in, conversations started to flow more naturally. Eddie kept his arm around you, his thumb tracing circles on your shoulder.

The cafeteria, which moments before had been on the brink of chaos, now felt a bit more relaxed.

The lunch period passed quickly, the conversations at the table flowing smoothly. The tension that had hung in the air when you had invited the boys to sit had almost completely faded, replaced by a sense of familiarity and acceptance.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, you looked over at Eddie. He leaned in, a lopsided grin on his lips, and whispered in your ear, "Who knew lunch could be so damn entertaining when you're around, princess?"

You turned to him. "I thought I was like, the devil or something?"

Eddie chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, you're most definitely the devil," he agreed, placing a gentle kiss on your temple. "But the kind of devil a man doesn't mind going to hell for."

And everything in that moment felt right, and Eddie knew, he just knew, that this was gonna be his year.

a.n: just wanted to say a quick thanks to everyone who liked and reblogged this super mini series (which was supposed to be one post) !! love you lots <3

[hipsdofangirl]

my SVT bias line as HOCKEY PLAYERS

general + romantic headcanons

genre: college au!, hockey au!, some hockey lingo that may be wrong, subtle innuendos but nothing explicit, lowercase intended

note: always after i go to my college’s hockey games i want to write something… also not proofread as always cause i just got back from a game to sit down and write this for an hour straight... PLEASE comment your thoughts cause i need more people to talk to about this

general information:

the svt hockey team can play in any lines, but they prefer their units they dubbed themselves! this is what makes them so dangerous…

yoon jeonghan (04; position: right winger)

very fast but normally has no stamina, causing early line changes. they usually throw him toward the end of the periods to spark fear into the opposing team.

his signature move is flicking the puck to and fro in front of his opponent only to swipe it under his legs.

he loathes getting shoved but he plays it up so his team gets more angry (they always fall for it).

has best lettuce (slang for hair and this shocked me to my core learning about this)

subtly goes offsides and it’s a 50/50 chance of him getting caught.

he is not the type to pick fights but sometimes feels left out when they occur. one time, the other 3 were butting heads with the other team after a shot and he just stood there with an opposing player and just lightly grabbed his stick; the player tried tugging it back but jeonghan would not let go.

normally, after a fight he is immediately with his teammates and checking for any injuries and hearing them complain about the other team. if they are injured, oh boy watch out.

romantic

during warmups before the game, he purposely shoots with force and towards your direction. you can always spot a little smirk (and a giggle which mingyu side eyes him for) whenever you flinch in response

whenever he scores and his teammates hug him, right after he scans the crowd for you. once he spots you, he does his signature ‘click’ noise and salutes you (sometimes you blow a kiss and he dramatically is taken aback).

when he had his injury that took him to out of play for a month, he would always sit beside you, arm resting on your seat. whenever his team would score a goal, a smile donned his face as he clapped; you on the other hand, always stand up and high five the people around you, his face seems to bloom when he watches you with love.

obviously you receive his jersey and he adores you when you wear it. when he first gave it to you, in your apartment, he had to indulge in his free will and squish your cheeks before planting many light kisses.

when you were mad at him, you wore joshua’s jersey. he was not amused for too long as his name wasn’t the only way to claim you.

xu minghao (08; position: left winger)

exchange player

he is the one with the least amount of broken sticks in his usual line up

along with jeonghan he is one of the fastest but has better stamina. he is also agile and flexible, causing opponents to hate going one-on-one with him; he does that meticulous side by side movement but the final one he leans his body to the avoid crashing into the plexiglass (his opponent doesn’t avoid this fate).

toward the start of his second year playing, the coach told him to tone down his anger, so the rest of the year he wasn’t very aggressive, losing points and vigor till hoshi had to have a talk.

now? once second period rolls around and the vibes are set, he will RUIN them. not with physical fights but his ‘light-taps’ with his shoulder and stick seem to blur the line of being a penalty.

romantic

after the whistle has been blown to perform another puck drop in their zone, minghao will always look to you and tap his stick onto the ice.

whenever you get the courage to create a sign, he will read it but then won’t indulge in your schemes; however, when he faces the other way a smile seems to shine through the face shield.

now when HE had his injury, he would also sit next to you. it was awkward when his injuries overlapped with jeonghan’s as you all sat next to each other to cheer. when it was break time and the screens in the middle points to a new ‘____ cam’, jeonghan would look over at him leading minghao to sigh and gave a brief glare to the man. jeonghan would purposely flag down the cameraman and point towards you two. have fun under new situations (kiss cam, dance cam, cowbell cam, you name it).

he wants to teach you how to play or at least how to successfully hit the puck. he desires to indulge in both of your hobbies for a closer connection; even if you can’t skate or is not accessible, he will find a skate park where you two can hit a ball with hockey sticks while complaining about your latest group project.

if the ice is accessible, he will teach you how to skate…oh? you already know how to skate? no, you don’t; he will correct your form or tease you, allowing himself to be barely out of reach as you stretch your hands to lovingly strangle him.

unlike the others on the team, he never asked you to wear his jersey. instead, whenever he visited or you did, he would ‘forget’ or ‘misplace’ his jersey around you and sometimes overnight. he wanted YOU to ask if you could wear it; call it self-consciousness or call it pride, he wanted you to take this step. of course, you always noticed and knew where it was; and of course, one time he happened to catch up trying it on in the spur of the moment. and of course he had to see it off too…

lee seokmin (81; position: center)

originally played baseball as a kid till he fell in love with watching his sister ice skate.

didn’t think he would actually join the college team but he immediately vibed well with the other players.

somehow on the official roster they spelled his name wrong?? who is dokyeom??

at first, he was scared of boarding people or engaging in fights; however, after watching mingyu and wonwoo tag team someone after the pushed woozi out of the goal, he accepted his anger.

the first time he showed aggression was during an argument he had with mingyu: he slammed his bag on the locker room floor and the silence was so loud that everyone teases him about it to this day.

unlike some of his teammates, he continues to occasionally fight; when a fist goes flying and knocks his helmet off, it’s hard to miss that rare dark look (only reserved for some moments you aren’t naive to) before he winds back to tackle the assailant.

ANYWAYS since he is one of the centers, the other members hold amounts of trust for him as he never fails to lighten the mood. with random words that become pregame cheering phrases, or with a jaw-dropping goal that flew just over the shoulder and into the net. even when he barely misses, his teammates will no doubt have his pack and flick it in.

during warmups, he loves ‘missing’ the goal and miraculously a kid gets the puck.

romantic

always looks forward to what sign you created in the crowd and secretly hopes it’s his number written on there.

when the rink has open ice skating, he loves taking you on there. bonus points if you suck cause you know he will hold your hands the whole time (even if you don’t really suck and you are pretending) and beam at you with the prettiest smile and shining eyes.

after games, he WILL ride the bus with you back to your apartment. when you ask how he is going to get back to his place, as the closest bus line doesn’t go that way, he somehow is passed out in your bed: snuggled under your weighted blanket and hugging your plush squishmallow (he eventually abandons it for you when you give in hmm it’s like he was never asleep…you feel bad when you wake up and look over on the floor to see the abandoned mallow’s beady black eyes staring into you).

it’s a little tradition and mini competition between you two to see who can leave the most notes of encouragement for one another! he came so close to crying—when you first started this trend—by placing 7 blue sticky notes littered with words of affirmation and doodles: located on top of his hockey stick, inside his gloves, top of the inside of his helmet, in the side pocket where he holds his water bottle, and on both of his skates.

please please please wear his jersey!!! his mood will sour when you don’t. even if it’s dirty and smells and someone spilled beer on it—don’t worry!! seokmin will give you another one which leads to his coach wondering why he has no jersey (or one that reeks with beer).

[songbirdseung]

payphone / sim jaeyun

thank you for 1k! where molding back a broken heart starts with you standing at a phonebooth in a foreign country trying to figure out what the hell to do and thinking where it went wrong. pairing stranger!jake x reader genre angst at first but turns into fluff. strangers to friend, possibly lovers

usually you'd feel very claustrophobic being in a tight enclosed space and feel anxious when people look at you regardless of expression but right now you had a different task that was highly more important that your own feelings right now.

you still had two whole months being in this country whose language you don't speak, with people you don't know nor trust but you were desperate to leave behind a memory, a person. because quite frankly being in his own home country didn't help you with trying to move on due to the fact that whenever and wherever you looked, something reminded you of him and that stupid smile you love so much.

it's weird, really. why are you in a phone booth when you can easily use your phone and do much more with it than a telephone attached to a wire in a box? easy answer: your phone died.

so, here you were. in this clear glassed box surrounded by people that are giving you looks as they pass by. since your tear-stained face with never ending tears flow out along with frantic and desperate movement would cause anyone to look.

some people tried to help but gave up when they realized you didn't speak their language but gave you enough reassurance and comfort your ex could ever give.

"damn it!" you shove back the phone into its switch hook as the automated voice came through for the nth time. sighing at the realization you no longer have any loose change to use.

a stupid idea but the only idea you had left was to start softly banging your head on the glass and calling yourself stupid for even making the decision to surprise your long-distance boyfriend.

"you okay in there?" a warm soft voice with a charming aussie accent along with a knock on the glass gets your attention. turning your head to be met with worried brown eyes looking at you. clearing your throat as you wipe your tears away, "uhm..you want an honest answer?"

"that's why i asked" okay, maybe that small chuckle was too much for your just broken heart could take.

"then…no"

"can i open the door or could you get out so i could help you in any way?"

never in a million years would you blindly follow nor interact with a stranger, let alone a stranger that was a guy… but that;-'s just you being anxious and suspicious. although, for some reason, this stranger felt like a warm hug or maybe it's just your emotions going haywire and your actually out of it. either way, you made the decision to step out of the booth and sit in a cafe with this stranger.

hands down, the best decision you made this whole month because know you understand why people say a stranger can understand you way better than anyone else in your life. this man who you are sitting across from right now, he felt like a warm room after being in the cold for hours on end. he just sat there, listened to you and sometimes even offering sweet and comforting words that would reassure you that maybe not everyone and everything is horrible.

if your ex barely gave you the bare minimum, this guy was giving you beyond that. no, you weren't exactly falling for this guy just like that. you've been through too much to do that to yourself. it was just a friendly acknowledgement that this person is a gem and that you can't let it go. there was no need to polish this one, he was already too perfect.

you sat at that cafe for hours, it started off with you crying to a whole stranger to leaving the cafe with a new friend, sim jaeyun… maybe there is a reason to stay in Seoul for the two months you had left.

-

"you're telling me your douchebag of an ex tried to get back together you with?" jake gives you a look that says "you better not have said yes" which makes you laugh and nudge him

"don't look at me like that"

"just tell me you didn't get back with him, woman!" he nudges you back and steals your cup of m&m's "these are mine now, by the way" while popping one in his mouth as he waits for your answer, eyebrow raised with an attitude and all.

"of course I didn't, doofus" trying to snatch back your beloved snack but to no success.

banter and bickering with jake was now your favorite thing. it's been two days since he found you crying in a phone booth, being a lovely, kind and friendly person but now he's teasing you and play fighting with you as if you two have known each other you whole lives.

"no offense but did you really think your long-distance relationship with him would work despite his track record?" he sits down, still holding your chocolate hostage.

"i was young!" trying to defend yourself, rolling your eyes at him as you at down next to him on the picnic blanket.

"it was only a year ago" okay, who is this diva? because he's giving you a deadpan "are you for real?" look. "just admit you're stupid, yn" shaking his head as he continues to eat the candy, looking at the ducks in the river in front of them.

"i'm not stup-"

"you think ducks can eat chocolate?" you see him holding one piece of the m&m's, rolling it with his pointer and thumb. "jake, you'll kill it!" he chuckles and eat the candy "it was just a question"

it makes you scoff and chuckle at him "look who's stupid now?" soon after that question, you feel your upper body meeting the grass next to you along with jake's defensive tone.

you never had a friendship like this. all your girl friends were the loving, caring, soft type of friends who love to sugar coat and beat around the bush when it comes to comforting you, you know the usual. they usually are gentle with you and are soft spoken but with jake? nope. say bye bye to that because the man will literally tell you straight up that you were doing something dumb. but again, for some odd reason, he was more real and comforting than anyone you've known. he can be a pain in the ass and hella competitive when you two play games but overall, he's such a fun guy to be around.

-

"have you dated before, jake?" you watch him put down his ramen and look up at you. there was something in his eyes that held something you couldn't really figure out. maybe a sense of longing?

"no- well, i mean- i've been a few dates set up by my friends in australia but I never actually had a girlfriend, why do you ask?" now paying full attention to you, waiting for where this conversation leads to

"i was just curious because i just can't believe a guy like you doesn't have a girl" you hear him sigh and see him shrug

"it was never really a priority"

"that's it? what about the girls you dated?"

"i don't like blind dates, i prefer to find "the one" naturally, you know?" you nod, telling him you understood and got him mindset on dating and relationships.

the conversation on his love life continued until he whined and whined, asking you to stop and let him finish his lunch. jake wasn't entirely secretive with you, he's actually been very welcoming and open to letting you know him and bringing you into his life. although, like any other person, there were things he like to keep to himself.

-

the next two months were a whirlwind of shared experiences and growing affection. you and jake were practically inseparable, exploring seoul's vibrant streets, from bustling markets to serene temples.

one day, you embarked on a culinary adventure, attempting to make kimchi. what started as a fun activity quickly turned into a chaotic mess. red pepper flakes flew everywhere, turning the kitchen into a colorful battlefield. jake, ever the comedian, couldn't resist capturing the moment, teasing you about your culinary skills.

"you call that kimchi? it looks more like a crime scene!" he joked, doubling over with laughter. you playfully swatted him, but couldn't help but join in the fun.

another memorable moment was a karaoke night. initially hesitant, you let jake's encouragement push you out of your comfort zone. as you belted out your favorite tunes, your shyness melted away. you even attempted a duet with jake, a hilarious performance that had the entire karaoke bar roaring with laughter.

late nights often found you on a rooftop, stargazing and sharing your hopes, dreams, and fears. hours would pass as you connected on a deeper level, the city lights twinkling in the background. it was during these quiet moments that you realized how much you valued jake's friendship, his honesty, and his unwavering support.

the quiet hum of the city faded into the background as you and jake settled into a cozy evening. a bowl of popcorn, a soft blanket, and a heartwarming movie filled the screen. the familiar comfort of his presence washed over you as you leaned into his side.

a shared laugh, a knowing glance, a gentle touch—these were the moments that painted your time together in vibrant hues. the simplicity of it all was breathtaking. no grand gestures, no dramatic declarations, just the quiet understanding that grew between you.

as the credits rolled, a comfortable silence enveloped the room. you turned to face jake, his eyes soft and contemplative. a warmth spread through you, a realization dawning upon you. the bond you shared was something truly special, a friendship that had blossomed into something more.

the days that followed were a whirlwind of shared experiences, laughter, and quiet moments. you explored hidden alleys, savored delectable street food, and lost yourselves in the vibrant tapestry of seoul. each day was a new adventure, a fresh memory etched into your hearts.

as your departure date drew near, a bittersweet feeling settled over you. the thought of leaving seoul and saying goodbye to jake filled you with a sense of longing. on your last night, you wandered along the han river, the city lights reflecting on the calm waters.

"i'm going to miss you," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper.

jake turned to face you, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "i'll miss you too. but hey, this isn't goodbye, just see you later."

[rikosseen]

Lookism with mute, younger brother

Anon request | ft. Goo, Gun, Jake, Eugene, and Yuseon

You run up to Jonggoo, kicking the back of his knees. The blonde grunts, turning to look at you with a bored expression.

Look what I got, you sign.

Goo’s eyebrow quirks up to see what you’ve got this time. You quickly rummage through your bag and shove a figurine in his face. Your brother backs away for a second until he recognises it. Slowly, Goo takes it in his hands, and examines the object. Left, right, up, down.

Holy crap, is this the original?

A devilish grin forms on Jonggoo’s face before he grabs you and hugs you tightly. You squirm, trying to get out of his grip, but to no avail.

“This is the limited edition-” you kick his balls, and your brother falls to the floor. As he clutches his man pearls with one hand, Goo cradles the figurine with the other and looks up at you.

“Where’d you find this?” he says, caressing the object like a pervert.

In the next door dumpster. There’s other dolls there too, you respond.

Rapidly, the blonde scrambles to his feet with newfound energy.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME SOONER?! LET’S GO RIGHT NOW,” he screeches, running to the front door to put on his shoes.

You blink at your brother, and cock your head to one side.

You want to… look through the trash with me?

Goo waves his hand dismissively, and the two of you walk out to your neighbour’s trash can.

Your clothes are going to get ruined-

Before you can finish, Goo Kim is already diving head first into the waste bin, scavenging like a vulture. No. A hyena is a more fitting description- because Jonggoo is cackling like a madman.

It’s in the recycling bin though..

But your brother’s too occupied. So you sit down on the pavement and idly play with some rocks on the sidewalk as people pass by, calling Goo a homeless drunk.

Gun places the freshly prepared sushi on the table before turning to you.

“What do you have there?”

You eagerly offer him a few broken pieces of something, awaiting your brother’s reaction. Jonggun examines it curiously, studying it for a moment as he holds it up, inspecting it as if it were an artefact. Metal?

“Where’d you get this?” he asks, before promptly shoving a piece of sushi into your mouth. You absentmindedly place a few strands of blonde hair on the table. The hair seems all too familiar—alarmingly familiar. You pull a Polaroid from your pocket. In the photo, Goo stands outside his apartment, mouth agape, locked out. Jonggun stifles a snort, almost hearing the screech that must have accompanied the moment. He looks utterly ridiculous.

“Is this his sword?”

As Gun pieces everything together, your excitement is palpable.

Do you like it? you sign, still chewing contentedly.

Gun grins, ruffling your hair, and shoves two more pieces of sushi into your mouth.

“Go put it in your treasure box,” he says.

You jump up quickly, eagerly gathering Goo’s hair and the broken pieces of the handle, ready to safekeep them. But before you can make your way to your room, Gun grabs you by the back of your collar, tutting in mock disapproval.

“Finish the food first.”

You pout dramatically, but your brother simply stands up to go wash the dishes. He pauses for a moment, then turns back to you.

“How’d you manage to get into his apartment..?”

As far as anyone knows, Jake is the biggest softie for those he holds dear. And if he did secretly have favourites, you’d place first. The man absolutely loves how spontaneous you are, loves the way you get all excited to show him the new things you’ve found. Be it skipping stones, phallus-like sticks, leaves, or snacks that Sinu’s dropped, Jake has a whole inventory in his bedroom. One where he guards the items you give him like some forbidden treasure by utilising a lock. No one is permitted to take it, and only he has the key to said lock.

.

When Jake returns home, you jump up from the sofa to run up to him. Upon seeing you, he gives a crooked smile while taking off his loafers. He’s been coming home a lot later than usual, and the weariness is evident in his features. There’s not much you can do about his errands, but he brightens up enough when you give him the little treasures you find.

I went to the beach for a field trip today, and got you seashells. Do you like them? You eagerly look up at your brother, and his smile widens slightly.

The glimmer in his eyes returns, and Jake feels rejuvenated. Feels like his energy’s been replenished.

“I love them,” he says, squeezing your shoulders and embracing you.

Eugene’s head is in a spiral, and he wants nothing more than to be alone. So many things have gone wrong within the past few months, and more than ever before, Charles Choi is posing a tremendous threat.

Where on Earth could that red paper be?

As Eugene continues to lose himself in his concerns, the door to his office creaks open, and two heads appear. You and Yuseong stand in the doorway, awaiting his permission to enter and play. Eugene glances up at the two of you, letting out a small, amused breath before gesturing for you to come in. Without hesitation, you and Yuseong eagerly enter, quickly retrieving a large container of Legos placed near the bookshelf. While Yuseong busies himself with constructing a city, you suddenly recall something important. Scrambling to your feet, you rush over to Eugene and tug at his arm.

“What’s the matter? Got something new to show me?”

You nod enthusiastically before pulling out a red sheet of paper from your satchel. It’s a little scrunched up, but you hand it to your brother anyway. The chairman hesitates, but slowly unfurls it. When he does so, his breath hitches, and a quivering smile forms on his lips.

The red paper.

“Where’d you find this?”

Inside DG’s car. Can I get more paper like this? I like red paper, you respond, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Heart beating rapidly, Eugene nods and gives your head a pat.

“Of course, of course,” he says. “Go and play with Yuseong. Let’s do something fun tomorrow.”

Your face beams at this, and you scurry off to play lego.

- I can’t be the only one finding this panel of Eugene so funny

[buckevantommy]

continuation of this

They're all so caught up in their own heads, a new kind of joy emanating from each of them that they don't seem notice how odd it is. A good thing, yes. But Hen can tell it's not a universal joy; there's three distinct stories here.

Chim clocks her questioning face first but his smile doesn't diminish. He does realise the other two people in the locker room are sporting similar smiles and cocks his head.

Eddie notices Chim's grin next, and they both ask at the same time: "What are you so happy about?"

Buck turns around from his locker, wide grin on his face. "Tommy told me he loves me."

All three heads snap to Buck.

"I did tell him first-- but I wasn't expecting him to say it back. I mean, I was hoping, y'know? And then.."

Buck trails off, face going a little dopey as he gets lost in some recent sweet memory.

Eddie claps a hand on his shoulder and pulls him into a half hug. "That's great, Buck!"

Chim claps him on the shoulder. "Congrats, Buckaroo. I already knew, of course, but I'm glad you guys finally took that step."

Buck's face scrunches in confusion. "Wait, what?"

Eddie nods as he shoves his duffel into his locker. "Yeah, well it's obvious. If we'd taken bets we all would've lost because we thought you guys woulda said it before now."

"That's right," adds Chim, nodding.

Hen rolls her eyes at their antics and pushes her way through to pull Buck into a proper hug. "I'm proud of you."

Buck muffles a shy thanks into her collar.

"And I'm happy for you."

"And for us," Chim butts in. "Tommy's the first partner of yours we all actually like."

Eddie hums an mmhm in agreement, and Hen swats lightly at both of them. "Okay, your turn boys: why the wide smiles?"

Chim and Eddie look to her, then at each other. Chim cocks his head at Eddie again, then brushes a finger under his nose. "You shaved the broom off!"

That's when the rest of them notice the absence of the stache. Relief washes over Hen, because that thing was an eyesore.

"Yes, I did," he lightly shoves at Chim as he tries to get a finger under Eddie's nose. "I, uh. I was done with it, y'know?"

Hen does not know, but good for him.

"Change is good," says Chim, and they all look to him expectantly. He blinks at them. "What?"

"Your turn, doofus," Eddie says.

Chim tries to will away his smile, and Hen knows that look: "You have a secret!"

Buck and Eddie's eyes blow wide.

"Yes, I do, and I will tell you, just-- hey, Cap!" Chim calls as Bobby passes through the bay. Once he joins them at the doorway, Chim continues. "So, as you all may know, our time with Mara expanded our family for a bit, and well. Maddie and I have decided to have a other kid."

The room erupts in surprised cheers and celebratory smiles and hugs. They're halfway through asking questions when he tells them she's already pregnant - and Hen wants to swat him again for burying that lead, but instead she pulls everyone in for a big group hug.

They've all had a rough run recently. It's nice to finally get some good news all around.

[solaris-amethyst]

🪻Small treasures🪻

✨Pairing: Wooyoung x gn!reader ✨Prompt: You drag Wooyoung to a second hand shop with the promise he'll get ice cream afterwards and he ends up finding a bunch of porcelain frogs he wants to bring home and who are you to say no to your adorable partner? ✨Word Count: 1.1k ✨Genre: fluff, non idol au, partners au, slice of life ☀️️Authors note: I got this idea into my head just when I had gone to bed at midnight yesterday and had to scramble to write down what I had come up with in my notes app. Here's now the finished and more polished version! Hope you enjoy it💓

”Babe why are we even here??” Wooyoung asked

”I wanted to see if I can find some cute things for our apartment!” you respond to your boyfriend.

”But why am I here? You promised me ice cream.” He pouts feeling betrayed that he has yet to gotten the ice cream he was promised by you when you went out causing you to smile at him and his adorable pout.

”We will get the ice cream after this okay? Now shoo let’s split up and see what we can find!” You gently push him in one direction before going in the other to look through the lamps they had hanging around. You had hoped to find some unique pieces to hang in your living room today.

Wooyoung had ended up in the section with different candlelight holders and porcelain figures. He was browsing through the section bored until his eyes settled on the most ridiculous looking porcelain frog, it was burgundy red with black spots and the mouth was open entirely indicating you were meant to put a candle in there. He picked it up, looking it over as his smile grew and before he knew it he was walking over towards you eager to show you what he found.

You could hear him giggling before you saw him as he approached you. You hummed quietly wondering what could possibly have him giggling this much already when he wasn’t even gone for five minutes and had before that been pouty about being in the second hand shop at all.

”This is you babe!” Was all you heard before the porcelain frog was shoved up into your face. It took you a moment to register what he said and take in the truly ridiculous looking frog before scoffing and giving him a playful glare.

”And how exactly is this me?! Looks more like you if anything babe.” You pointed back and Wooyoung shook his head.

”No!! You’re wrong, this is you when you yawn!” 

”More like you when you yawn!” You fought back and you could see that he was enjoying this a lot. He looked at you, then the frog then back at you. He did it a few times before he very fondly said:

”I want it.”

”Are you sure Wooyoung?”

”Yeah. It reminds me of you, it’s cute and so are you.”

”You think that frog is cute?”

”Yeah especially when it reminds me of you and your cute yawns. I could put my keys in it.” He starts to ramble on why he really really really wants it as if he’s trying to convince you to let him buy it. When in reality you’d let him buy whatever he wants, it’s both of yours apartment. You’d never be one of those people who exclude your own partner from buying things and decorating the space you inhabit to make sure both of your personalities and styles could be present for those who visit. 

”Woo, babe, I’d never stop you from buying the frog.”

His eyes practically lights up and he beams at you happily before going in for a quick kiss.

"Thank you babe!!" He kisses your cheek before turning around and hurrying over to get a basket, gently putting down his frog before he returns to the porcelain figure section.

You look at him fondly thinking that he looks cute when he's this excited. He seems to be enjoying this shopping spree much more now and you can see that he's actually going through the section he is at much more carefully, picking things up, examining them and either putting them back on the shelf or into his basket depending on if they're to his liking.

"I can't wait to see what you bring home." You mumble to yourself before going back to looking at the lamps. Hoping to find something before you go to check out.

You manage to find a nice lamp in the shape of a flower and a nice cardigan for yourself to bring home.

"Ready to check out?" You ask Wooyoung when you slide up next to him and he gives you a nod as he puts the item in his hand into his basket.

Wooyoung hides the basket from you slightly claiming he doesn't want you to see it all until you both are at the counter. You did catch that the basket seems to be filled with a bunch of things he has found and it makes you happy he has found things he wants to put in your home. No matter what they might look like you want him to freely decorate like you will be doing as well.

"I like the lamp you've picked out! It will go nicely next to the sofa!" He says thoughtfully as he looks it over which makes you smile.

"I'm glad you like it! It was like love at first sight for me."

The two of you make it to the cashier and you put up your lamp and cardigan as Wooyoung starts putting everything from his basket onto the counter.

First up is the yawning frog he had found, then another frog, and another, and a cup with a frog. It doesn't seem to stop and you can't stop the laughter bubbling up seeing all the frogs he has found. One is sitting cutely on a lily pad with a flower on its head and he claims that this cutie is for Sannie, since Sannie is a buff guy with a cute personality and this frog is cute like San.

You can only agree that it would fit your friend perfectly. He puts up some more frogs and if you counted right he has found around 13 frog related things he will be bringing home. All of them varying in size and color.

"You really like the frogs huh?"

"Yeah! But the first one is my favorite. I will be thinking of you every time I see it. The other frogs are just cute and I wanna give one to Sannie and one to Sangie!" He tells you and pointing at another little frog when he had said Yeosangs nickname.

"I'm glad you've enjoyed this so much baby." You say as you pay for the items and takes the bags the cashier has given you two.

"We should do this again! I wanna see if I can find more frogs." He chuckles as the two of you walks out of the second hand shop with the ice cream shop as your next destination.

"I'll make sure to bring you next time I'm going second hand shopping then." you tell him.

"Perfect!" He beams before giving your cheek a kiss and taking ahold of your hand swinging it as the two of you enjoy your walk.

[kaeso4ka]

You're being harassed on the bus. Help comes… Expected

Pairing: yandere Optimus Prime x reader

You hated public transportation. What kind of person would happily climb into a pile of unknown things that had legs, arms, and babies crying?

But today you had to take the route to the center that so many others took during rush hour.

Already so crowded, you crammed into it like it was the last train to dreamland. People crowded on the aisle and in the center, as if this would make the aisle freer and let out the slow granny, who was going through the rush. It wasn't until you put on your headphones and stashed all your stuff in your bag that you relaxed and tried to enjoy the ride.

Until you felt someone shoving you from behind, pressing their hands on you “casually”.

“Stop groping me,” you hissed, pressing yourself as much as you could against the corner of the bus.

The man apologized, but wasn't about to back down. First he gently touched you, after he tried to get under the skirt you were wearing, and then he leaned in for a kiss.

All this was until some other man, a larger man, pushed the villain aside.

Without any explanation, no words. Your secret savior, whose face you couldn't see because of the cap, stood next to you, shielding you from the others with his body.

“Thank you,” you turned your back to him, wanting to go back to listening to the music.

There was no response, only a huge palm the size of your face covering your waist. As if washing away the stranger's touch, the tall stranger's palm began to trace the path of the other; first along the bulging buttocks, running under the fabric to touch the crotch, and then to the top, to the chest, causing you to push back. But would that stop the other's assertiveness? No, on the contrary, he presses you into the wall of the bus with his body harder and loads you down with his presence.

“I promised I'd hurt anyone who touches you, my Spark.”

“Oh fuck.”

[starlost-mochi-x]

snake - yang jeongin

pairing: yang jeongin x reader

summary: you come home to jeongin after a long, exhausting day

genre: fluff, idol! au, comfort, soft innie, reader had a tough day, the snakes are just a metaphor i promise

a/n: this is super rushed. divider by @atsubie

You trudge down the pavement, brushing past pedestrians and groups of chattering students. A man with his phone to his ear shoves roughly past you and you sway where you're standing, a feeling of hopelessness settling into your stomach like a dark, writhing snake.

These past few weeks have been horrible.

First, one of your close friends at work told you that some of the other coworkers have been spreading nasty rumours about you. You spilled your drink this morning on the way to the building and had to run back and change quickly.

Then when you did show up, your boss shouted at you for being tardy in front of your entire division. You elected to work a couple more hours as compensation, and Jeongin is actually at home for once instead of at the company, so you missed out on an evening with him.

You had texted him earlier in the day, saying that you couldn't come home, and he'd called you. He hadn't minded, his tone casual and slightly teasing as per normal, but you knew him well enough to know he was disappointed at not getting to finally spend some time together.

The coiling snake of guilt, shame, and exhaustion in your stomach has been writhing all week long, and honestly, you're just fed up. Pressing a hand to your midriff, you sigh and pick up the pace, weaving between people, muttering sorry and my bad without so much as a second glance.

You shove the door open and run directly into Jeongin with an oof. His hoodie pillows your face in a refreshing wave of fading cologne and fresh linen. You groan and stand there, sagging into him, the door still flung open in the wake of your frustration.

Jeongin blinks down at you, seemingly unsurprised. He wraps his long, firm arms around you, letting you lean against his chest. It's so warm and so comforting it brings tears to your eyes.

"Hi," he murmurs. "Long day?"

You nod mutely, face still shoved into his hoodie.

Jeongin chuckles, picking you up with little effort and carrying you over to the couch. There's a movie playing. He must have been watching it while waiting for you to come home, and your heart twinges guiltily for having made him wait.

"Innie," you whisper tiredly. "It's so late, why aren't you asleep?"

He's kneeling in front of you, gently undoing the buttons of your shirt so you can breathe, then slipping off your socks and shoes. The look of caring focus on his face doesn't go unnoticed in your current overemotional state. When he finally speaks, Jeongin's voice is soft, gentle, firm.

"You know I can't sleep without you, and I didn't want you coming home to silence."

You nod, unable to do anything.

"Besides," he continues, "You always wait up for me, even when I spend hours and hours at the company for dance practices."

He moves to sit beside you, tugging you gently into a side hug, the solidness of his chest against your chest a comforting anchor. You sit like that for a while, the movie muted and faint in the background.

Jeongin's presence is so warm, so comforting, that all you can do is close tired, strained eyes and lean into him further, inhaling his scent, relishing the solid weight of his arm around you. The burden finally lifts and the sharp, dull tension behind your eyes begins to dissolve, leaving you feel more relaxed and cosy than you've felt in a long time.

The coiling snake in your gut settles and disappears.

a/n: no snakes were harmed in the making of this fic

[they-call-me-whiskey]

Promise

pairing: JJ Maybank x Marie Routledge (oc)

summary: the secret relationship isn't a secret anymore.

warnings: a bit of angst, a bit of fluff; English is not my first language.

author's note: this is my first completed fic, and I know it's not good, but let me know what you think anyway.

when Marie arrived at the Chateau, it was suspiciously quiet. usually she could hear noise from several meters away, but now, she didn't hear anything, even when she opened the door. she headed straight to the kitchen and let out a sigh of relief seeing JJ rummaging through the fridge. she leaned casually against the counter a playful smile spread across her face.

“looking for something?” she asked, giggling as he jumped a little.

“you scared me,” he said back, sliding the fridge door shut and stepping closer to her with sly grin growing on his face. “but you’re exactly what I wanted to find.”

she let out a soft laugh, and JJ took her hand, tugging her closer, his eyes dropping to her lips. it has been a while since they'd had any time alone together, as if everyone conspired to keep them from any time just the two of them, and it was starting to seriously piss him off.

“where's the others?” the question was haunting her since she got there. it was almost sunset, and by this time everyone was usually at the Chateau, either watching a movie, playing cards, or whatever else they usually did. but she hadn't seen anyone except JJ.

“they're at Hayward's. needed help with something,” he answered, kissing her neck as his hands slid to her hips.

“they left without the Twinkie?” she asked, remembering seeing the car parked outside.

“they took the HMS Pogue,” JJ said, then suddenly picked her up and sat her down on the table. she squealed out of surprise but the squeal quickly turned into a laugh, making him smile. looking at her sitting before him made his heart beat as if it was ready to leap out of his chest.

“why did you stay?” she asked after a minute of silence. she raised her hand to fix his hair.

“I thought maybe we could have some time for ourselves.” his grin returned, and he leaned in closer. she smiled and met him halfway.

“what the hell?!” a voice broke through the silence, snapping them both back to reality.

JJ pulled back as if he’d touched a hot stove, and they both turned to see John B standing in the doorway, eyes wide with disbelief. Marie jumped down from the table.

“John B—” she started, but he wasn’t looking at her.

“out of limits, man!” John B practically exploded, pointing at JJ. “my sister, JJ? are you kidding me? We’re like brothers, and you… you betray me like that?”

JJ looked stricken, hands raised defensively. “John B, it’s not—just listen for a second—”

“are you serious right now?” John B cut him off, his voice raising with every word. “you went behind my back with Marie, of all people? And I had to find out like this?!”

Marie, caught between anger and embarrassment, raised her voice, “hey, stop acting like I’m not here—”

both boys ignored her, too caught up in the heat of the argument. John B couldn't believe it. his best friend was kissing his little sister. in his own kitchen.

“look, I swear it wasn’t like that,” JJ tried again, his voice desperate, “it’s been a real relationship—”

the word relationship hung in the air, stopping John B cold. his face went through a range of emotions—shock, confusion, then something more intense as the realization hit.

“wait.” He turned fully to Marie now, his eyes sharp. “you guys have been doing this… this whole time? what else have you—?”

JJ winced, bracing himself for the reaction. “John B, listen, I… I know it sounds bad, but… it’s serious.”

John B gave a hollow laugh, clearly too angry to hear any of it. “you… out,” he ground out, grabbing JJ by the arm and dragging him toward the door. JJ barely got a chance to dig his heels in as John B shoved him out onto the porch, only for everyone else to wake up at the noise.

“what’s going on?” Pope mumbled, appearing on the porch, with Kiara right behind him. they'd just gotten back from Hayward's, and while Pope and Kie was tying up the boat John B had run to the Chateau to check if Marie was back.

“JJ’s a dead man,” John B snapped, shoving JJ onto the front steps. “and he’s staying away from Marie.”

JJ, catching his balance, held his hands up in exasperation. “John B, man, just listen—please, it’s not—”

Marie had followed them outside, her voice cutting in, “John B, stop! just let him explain!”

but John B wasn’t having it. he took a threatening step toward JJ. “you say one more thing, and I swear—”

JJ shook his head, running his hand through his hair, looking right back at his best friend. “fine, hit me if you need to, but I’m not staying away from her. I love her, alright?”

a stunned silence fell over the Pogues as they processed what he’d just said. Kiara, squinting at JJ in disbelief, was the first to speak. “wait… you do?”

then Pope echoed, “you do?”

finally, John B, arms falling limp at his sides, just stared, a mix of anger and confusion on his face. “you do?”

JJ, glancing back to Marie, nodded, his voice soft but resolute. “yeah… I do.”

the words hung heavy in the air, tension slowly melting into an awkward silence. Marie looked at him, her expression tender but a bit surprised. they'd never really talked about this; she didn't even know if they were a couple. but what he said — the way he said — made her think that it wasn't just to save his ass. she couldn't help but smiled, her heart doing a somersault.

John B sighed, running a hand through his hair, still looking frustrated but maybe just a bit less angry. “this… this is just a lot to process,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, you and… my sister?”

JJ looked at him, dead serious, almost pleading. “I wouldn’t mess around with her, John B. I swear. she means too much to me for that.”

Kiara stepped up, putting a hand on John B’s shoulder. “look, it’s obvious he’s serious,” she said softly. “and maybe… maybe that’s not such a bad thing?”

Pope nodded, shrugging, “yeah, I mean… it’s JJ. if there’s anyone you can trust with her, it’s him.”

John B finally met his sister’s gaze. though she was smiling like an idiot, he could still see the worry in her eyes. he let out a long breath, shoulders slumping. Pope was right—it was JJ. his best friend. he could trust him. maybe. “fine,” he said at last, looking between them. “but don’t you dare break her heart, JJ, or I swear…”

JJ nodded, looking back at John B with the same promise in his eyes. “you got it, man.” His gaze shifted to Marie's smiling face, and he couldn’t hold back his own smile. “never.”

[prettypinkporkchop]

Hey love request again-

Seth x reader where his imprint thinks he only loves her cause the imprint bond, but he tries to explain it’s her he loves. Like some long angst then fluff…or whatever 😘😘

You bang against Seth's bedroom door. "Seth Clearwater! Open up!"

He opens it, shirtless and his hair in a mess. "What? What is it?" He grabs your waist and looks over you.

"Can you stop?" You shove his hands off of you. "Stop being nice to me! I refuse to become subjected to this forced bond!" You yell.

He stares at you blankly. "How'd you get in my house? I.. lock the door."

You lift up the key that he left in your house.

"Oh.. right. Can we please talk?" He gently touches your shoulders.

You shake your head. "No. Leave me alone. You don't love me, Seth. It's the stupid bond." You back away.

He steps closer. "Y/n, I love you. I loved you before the bond." He says.

You don't know what to believe. Way back when you both were younger, you'd just see him around town. You both got along and became acquainted. But when his father died, everything changed. Now, you BELONG to him. But... it's forced. He doesn't love you?

"You're lying." You whisper.

"If I was, would I have tried this hard?! Do you remember how I flirted with you so bad when we were kids?" His eyes water. "If I could go back and ask you then and not be so shy, I would."

You breathe out a shaky breath and shake your head. "God, this can't be real." You run your fingers through your hair.

He brings you in a hug. He holds onto you and rubs your back to calm you down. He has always done this while you were upset. But now is not the time.

You push away and look at him. "I'm gonna go home."

----

You're at the beach, sitting with Leah. You watch as the wolves laugh with their imprints. They seem so in love, but you believe what your mind is telling you.

"You know, it's not what you think. Seth does love you." Leah says.

Leah has been a good friend of yours. She doesn't talk much about what's between you and Seth. But sometimes she will vouch for him. He is her brother, so you understand.

"How would you know?" You turn your head to face her.

"Because before dad died, you were all he talked about. He was a twelve year old that swore he knew he loved you." She starts laughing. "The universe only told him he was right."

You look down and then look at the water where Seth and Quil wrestle.

---

You walk down the sidewalk to the bar with your new friend, who is your coworker. She seems cool, so you agreed to go to the bar with her. You figured it'd be a good opportunity to get your mind off of Seth.

You both walk inside, and you see a bunch of people. Some are sitting and drinking. A lot are walking around, visiting, or dancing to the blaring music.

Blake gasps as she notices a guy at a seat. "Hubba hubba." She chuckles.

"Eh, I thought this was a girls' night!" You whine.

"It sure is." She winks.

You end up drinking alone. Blake is dancing with the guy and had just forgotten you were there.

"Care to explain why a beautiful woman like you is by herself tonight?"

You look up from the bar table and see a man sitting beside you. He has a half smile on his face. He's tall with pale skin and blue eyes. His hair is in a military cut. You look at his wrist and see an army bracelet. Hmm.. a military mam.

"Uhm, I'm just being ditched." You giggle and sip your drink.

"Hey, sir? Can I get a shot of whiskey?" He asks the bartender. He turns back to you and nudges you. "Who ditched?"

You nod your head to the dancing people. "My friend. She found a guy."

He laughs and then takes the shot that is handed to him. "I think you just found your guy." He winks.

You get a random flash image of Seth in your mind. His face is looking at you like he did a few years back when you told him you don't want to be a part of the bond. His face breaks your heart.

You feel guilty. And the thought of being with this guy tonight is grossing you out.

"No, I'm not looking for anything." You smile.

"I respect that. Want to just drink and chat?" He smiles back.

"Sure." You turn to the bartender. "Hey, sir. May I get another (your drink)."

He nods his head and gets your drink for you.

"So, I'm guessing you're in the army." You look at his bracelet.

"Yeah. I'm home for the week. I don't really like serving." He takes another shot.

"How come?" You sip your drink.

"I miss home a lot. I uh, also don't want to serve a government that doesn't care about us." He smiles.

"I see. I still believe you have a good heart for joining." You reply.

"Pfft. I joined for the free schooling. I plan to become a cop. A good cop."

You drink more and more... and then more. Blake left with that guy. You and this guy you learned to be Tyler have been getting drunk by the minute.

"I just, I'm so over my life. I'm exhausted." You slurr and drop your head on the table. You're thinking of Seth.

"Fucking tell me about it." He agrees.

Your phone starts ringing and you answer. "Helloooo."

"Y/n? Where are you?" It's Seth. He's panicking.

"I'm okay. I'm at the bar." You groan.

"Damn it.." He hisses and then hangs up.

"Who was that?" Tyler asks.

"My..." You think carefully of what to say. "It's complicated." You sigh.

"Gotcha." He says.

After a few minutes, Seth barges in. He walks to you and gently takes your hand from the table.

"Hey!" You call out.

"Dude.'' Tyler says. He tries to grab your arm so your hand leaves Seth's hand.

"Let her go, man. She's my girlfriend." Seth says.

"No." You slurr and stand up. You stumble out the door.

Both guys follow you. You step over the sidewalk and bend over. You're about to blow.

"Who even are you?" Seth asks.

"Tyler. Who are you?" He asks.

"Her boyfriend, Seth!" He responds.

"I didn't know she had a man." He replies.

You throw up.

"Shit." Seth runs to you. He rubs your back and pulls your hair back. "It's fine. It's okay." He whispers.

God, his touches. The way he treats you. You feel so bad. He has been like this toward you since before all of this. Maybe you do believe him...

You collapse on the ground and in his arms. You breathe hard. "Seth.. can you take me home?" You ask.

He takes you to your house and you stop at your front door. He stands next to you while you fumble for your key to unlock the door. You find it and look at him. He looks back at you:

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You ask.

"Because I'm hurt." He responds.

"Me too. I'm mad at myself." You open your door.

You both walk in, and he goes straight to your bathroom. You hear him running the shower. You go in your room and drop your stuff on the bed and take off your jacket. Seth walks in the room.

"Are you sobering up?" He asks.

"A bit." You smile.

"I've got your shower going." He says.

"Thank you, Seth." You walk over to him.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull his face down. He wraps his arms around you and smiles.

"Do you believe me?" He asks.

"Yeah. I love you."

His smile widens, and he slowly leans in. You hesitate but go in for it. You both kiss. It's slow and soft. This is the first time you two have kissed. You feel that chemistry. You feel... like this is all you've ever wanted and needed. He pulls away and places his forehead on yours.

[respectthepetty]

Your post about being happy that there are so many queer media to watch nowadays, even the bad ones is just spot on. I live in a homophobic country and I'm still in the closet at 25. so imagine growing up, discovering yourself, being so afraid and then have all the queer content you find end with the characters dying, being laughed at, or reduced to harmful stereotypes. because what did that mean for silly young closeted me?

But now?

Now I'm thriving, i get to experience queer love, queer joy, even queer dumbassery lmao. These reminders, despite still feeling stuck, constantly show me how other queer people are moving forward and living their lives—and it's beautiful, even the trashy ones (which always are the most fun to watch)

So thank you for your post. It’s a reminder that our stories matter, no matter how imperfect!

Anon, although I live in the United States, I have always lived in a super conservative county where the town clerk refuses to issue marriage licenses to queer couples (and sometimes people of color depending on the day). We have billboards coming into town telling everyone they are going to hell and compared to all my friends in bigger cities who had to wait for the COVID vaccine, I got mine in 2020 when they were mostly only available to medical staff because the medical staff at our hospital refused to get it because Trump told them not to or some shit, so the local pharmacy begged anyone to get the shot before they expired. For a long time, my town refused to let cable or internet companies come in because then we would be exposed to sinful media.

But I ain't moving!

So although I haven't lived your experience, I feel ya.

Which is why I love all the discourse about QLs. If someone loves a show, I want to see why. If someone hates a show, I want to hear all about it. Because for so long, I had NOTHING! I was looking at the bible in Catholic school like . . . "Judas, you could've just told Jesus you wanted him instead of doing all this" *sign of the cross* and we all know how that ended for both of them.

Now, I'm trying to figure out where to find the time to watch all that is being offered to me! I can be picky now! I can dislike a show without feeling like ALL queer content will be taken away from me. I can get characters giving hand jobs, rim jobs, and blow jobs without having to pay-for-view at 1 am praying that the volume stays low.

I have watched some of the worst imaginable queer content, and I have watched queer porn with a plot which has smacked, and not just literally *wink*. I have watched so many queers be buried in ways that people cannot even begin to fathom. I have seen more than my fair share of queer media, and I can say without a doubt that these BLs are giving us some of the best variety of queers I have ever seen, and regardless if they are true to the queer experience (Dinosaur Love, I'm looking at your wild ass), two men holding hands is really fucking queer to these homophobes regardless of the plot. Two men cuddling in bed is super queer to these homophobes regardless of how aligned it is with the queer experience. Two women kissing is giving a homophobe a heart attack right now!

Century of Love had homophobic crew members. Those people got a paycheck for filming a BL while tweeting homophobic comments. Homophobia doesn't magically go away because we have queer content, which is a truth you and I know, but it gives me tiny pleasure knowing that 1) the show is airing on a popular-ish Thai channel in a prime-time slot, and 2) homophobes had to film two men kissing, multiple times. If we can't beat (the fuck out of) them, at least we made them feel super uncomfortable for even a teeny tiny bit.

And that's the other half of this - Not only do we get to consume all of this, but others are being exposed to it. These shows are airing in their countries ON TV. These actors are being shown in ads on TV and doing spreads for magazines. So while my town has billboards telling us to seek Jesus or perish in the fires of hell, Apo and Mile are eating Lay's on a billboard somewhere in Thailand.

Because this isn't just about the queers watching but about the homophobes and even the in-betweens witnessing it.

Give me all the trashy series (Dinosaur Love, still looking at you)! Give me the series that have absolutely no plot except two boys holding hands. GIVE ME EVERYTHING! Because no matter what I get, I guarantee it is pissing off some grandpappy somewhere, and that's really the queer experience; pissing people off for not only existing, but having the audacity to thrive despite it all.

So thrive, QL Land, THRIVE!