#and then the Something New got out of hand and oh well :(

[eraserbread]

your older boyfriend, nanami, has a sneaking suspicion you like arguing with him.

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it always starts with something stupid, him denying you a new purse you wanted, or him telling you no when you asked to come to his house. he gave you a good reason, he was tired, and you were too rowdy.

this time, he didn't come visit you when you were in the office on your internship.

nanami was innocent - caught in hours of meetings that didn't align with your work schedule. He texted you a quick apology that night, but you were seething.

it's like he's ashamed of you -- too used to you.

and that's what you tell him when you crawl into his jet-black car the following night.

"if you hate me, just say it." you pout, slamming his passenger door and not bothering with your seatbelt as you sink into the cool leather.

"what are you talking about?" though you're mad, he still plants a hand against the top of your thigh, squeezing the flesh in his way of telling you hello. "I don't hate you."

"you never come visit me at work anymore. and you hardly fucking work, I mean there's nothing that important that you completely forget about me, is there?!"

"god, here we go again..." he mutters absolutely devoid of emotion. he'll let you rant all your feelings out to him, he'll yell back a little bit, then he'll fuck you stupid and sorry... it's just the way things play out with you two. "I didn't forget about you."

you're ranting with your hands, staring into the side of his stoic face as he drives calmly. it's like your anger is lost on him, or perhaps you weren't really angry -- why isn't he cracking..?

"you son of a bitch, you never listen to me!" you're squealing, stamping your foot, and crossing your arms when he just... keeps on driving.

then, he's turning back home and you're left in a scowl staring out of the window. literally all he had to say to soften the mood was I'm sorry, but he wasn't sorry. there was nothing to be sorry for, and you knew he preferred to keep the relationship work-appropriate at work. carving out time between meetings to visit you is not work-appropriate, so he's not sorry. oh well.

so if you wanted to spout baseless reasons to hate him all the way to his front door, he'd listen and take it. until, that door locks and he's rolling his shoulders and pulling his tie loose.

"just, shut up about it."

"s-shut..?" you reply, shocked by the choice of words he's never given you before. every other time you poked at his nerves, he'd just roll his eyes and give you what you wanted.

tonight, instead of giving in, he has you on your hands and knees in front of him, gagged between the teeth with his spotted tie.

he's fucking you hard in his bed, keeping you pressed in doggy as he guides you back with each of his thrusts. his big hand is tangled in his tie, loose digits twisted in your hair so he has those nerve-endings hostage as well. it's a sensory overload, from the sound of his grating voice, to the feeling of your inescapable whines against the gag. it was all just so erotic.

"listen to that -- sweet silence," he grunts in unison with his thrusts. he's got you pierced so stupid and pliable on his cock, that you weren't even worried about anything else. all you can focus on is the sensation of his thick length stretching you to the hilt, springing tears to your eyes as you try and take all of it.

nanami hates it when you run from his cock, it just makes him fuck you harder. but, he was unraveling inside of you, hanging on by the grace of god and slivers of self-control

so when you slide your spent knees further up the bed, trying to free your body from the dirty punishment, he has all the more reason to pull out, slapping a strong hand over your puffy cunt and hooking two fingers inside your hole. he's got his fingers crooked at that perfect angle to coax exactly what he wants from you.

you fingers claw at anything they can grab, sick whiny cries dampening the tie between your teeth as you cum for the third time, sobbing in relief when you feel his hot, thick seed drip down your spent cunt as he unravels in succession.

"so mean... t'me..." you manage to breathe out, shuddering in a limp pile of mess on his bed. nanami steps away like an artist admiring his work, brushing some of your taste from his lips to suck back between them.

"whatever you say." he mumbles, sliding his tie from your skin, but disregarding your frame further.

he was going to take a shower... you are welcome to join him, but only if you

shut the hell up.

[shouyuus]

direct continuation of this; part of the apt neighbor!vi au

apartment neighbor!vi who disappears, or at least tries to -- no more weekend visits, no more tuesday night movie dates -- you still see her, or rather, catch glimpses of her here and there, but she's always ducking away or off somewhere before you can catch her, and for a someone who's so conspicuous, she's more slippery than you could've ever imagined. and at first, you're angry -- hurt, confused -- but the pain dulls after a week, two, and soon enough, there's only the barest flinch whenever you see her silhouette slipping down the hallway when you catch her coming back from the gym, or in the mail room --

once, you catch the bright chime of powder's voice as vi opens her door, and you could've sworn you heard your name, but the next second, the door's slamming closed behind her, and powder's voice cuts off like an old record.

apartment neighbor!vi who still goes to the gym, and it's the only real place you see her, but she's always got her headphones banded over her bright red hair, her eyes narrowed -- the bandages around her knuckles are tattered, stained with what looks like blood. there are new cuts and bruises scattered along her arm and what looks like a fresh scab at the corner of her lip.

you don't ask; you figure that if she'd wanted you to know, she would've told you by now.

apartment neighbor!vi who is not there the first time you let curiosity get the better of you and maps the way to her family's pub -- it's a divey kind of place, but spacious and well-kept, with dartboards lining the walls and an old fashioned jukebox in the corner. the man behind the counter glances up with a grin, a slight dip between his brows, an old pipe between his lips.

"bit early for a girl like you to come wanderin' in here," he says, with a voice that rumbles through you, even from a distance. you clear your throat and check your watch -- yeah, 2pm on a wednesday isn't peak hours for a bar like this but it's what you were hoping for.

"oh -- sorry, are you guys not open yet?" you glance back at the door, afraid that you'd missed some sort of signage but the man just laughs and shakes his head.

"nah, we're open. c'mon in," he gestures to the empty bar top, and sets down a glass with a heavy hand.

you eye it for a second before skittering over and sliding up onto one of the barstools, glancing around to take in the scene.

"lookin' for vi, i assume?"

you jump at the sound of vi's name, your eyes slingshotting back to the man, who breaks out into a loud bark of laughter, pouring you a full glass of water.

"h-how did -- has vi said something?"

the man shrugs, pushing the water towards you; you grab it for lack of anything better to do, taking a tentative sip as he eyes you with beady, beatle-black eyes, shining with mirth.

"you pour people drinks for long enough and you start to get a knack for puzzlin' out what they want when they walk in -- kinda person they might be, why they're comin' in -- gets to be a kinda game if you get good enough at it," he leans in with a conspiratorial wink that sets you at ease. you feel your own shoulders drop a bit as you set the glass back down on the counter and lick your lips.

"so you must be vander," you say, the name ringing back through your sifted memories -- vi on a tuesday night, after a movie about race cars or something, chattering about the bar and how her stepdad always gets on her about flirting with the customers too much.

vander nods, taking a soft puff of his pipe and leaning back.

"and you must be the neighbor girl that vi's not been able to shut up about," he muses, making you gag on your next sip of water. he lets out another booming laugh and reaches behind the counter to hand you a stack of napkins. you mop at the water dripping down your chin, feeling your cheeks burn.

"sorry, sorry -- forgive an old man his good time," he says with another good-natured wink before his jovial expression flattens, "but if you're here wonderin' what she's been doin'... then you're fresh outta luck, darlin'."

you frown, cupping your fingers around your half-drunk glass of water.

"i'm just... worried about her."

vander grunts, shrugging up a single, massive shoulder.

"standing room only on that bus, i'm afraid."

you let out a soft scoff of laughter, nodding.

"it's sweet of you to come knockin', but... she's a stubborn one, and if she doesn't wanna tell us then..." another shrug, another sigh, "no one's gonna be able to force it outta her."

you nod again, feeling rather wilted as vander reaches over to pat your shoulder with a large hand. he chuckles.

"tell ya what, here -- have a drink -- on the house."

he grabs a wine glass and sets it in front of you with a tiny flourish. as second later, a deep red liquid fills your glass and you stare up at him as he grins.

"i figured you were a cab sav kind of girl -- but tell me if i'm wrong, and i'll swap it out for anything else you might like."

you shake your head, laughing as you tug the wine glass closer, "nope. you're spot on."

apartment neighbor!vi who shows up hammered, with no preamble, banging down your door a on friday night (though it really is late enough to be called saturday morning) -- you answer with a frying pan clutched in one hand, a hissing sigh whistling through you the second you see who's on the other side. the pan drops and you're about to be angry, but your eyes catch on the fresh bruises blooming across the high of her cheeks, a bump the side of a golf ball swelling up above her right eye.

"o-oh my god, vi! what happened?!" you jump back as she nearly collapses into your doorway, barely catching herself against your shoe-rack.

"jus... missed you, sugar! can't a girl... miss... someone she likes?" she slurs, shaking her head as she pushes herself up; you blink rapidly at her, your chest a tight whirlwind of questions and concerns. it's all eclipsed, however, by alarm, as she lurches into your apartment and nearly smashes into your hallway wall, looping an arm around your shoulder -- you stumble beneath her weight, struggling to keep her upright.

"vi? vi -- you're drunk --"

"nah this ain't nothin' -- just wanted a few after -- after getting beat up, ain't that normal? damn -- got so fucked in the ring -- that match was fixed -- shoulda known smeech couldn't be trusted -- that slimy, money-hungry bastard --"

you somehow manage to half-drag vi into your living room and dump her on the couch, fluttering around for a large glass of water and a first aid kit.

"what -- what're you saying?" you ask, even as you force her to take a large gulp of water (she makes a face as if it's vodka before downing the rest in a few long gulps -- a few beads of water trickle passed her chin and into the collar of her stained tanktop). but in between the fragments and incoherent mumbles, a slow realization starts to coalesce inside you as you inch closer to her and convince her to sit still.

"vi...?"

"mm." she hiccups, flinching slightly as you dab at a cut on her cheek with an antibacterial wipe.

"are you... in some sort of... fight club, or something?"

vi makes a grumbling noise, her eyes fluttering closed; she sways a little as you continue to gently clean out her wounds. her breath carries the sharp, turpenic smell of cheap alcohol as she lets out a long sigh.

"somethin' like that... kinda like a boxing ring -- i'm pretty damn good at it, most nights," she adds, hissing again even as you jerk back, pursing your lips. she crinkles her nose before wiping a hand across her mouth, staring blankly down at the fresh blood smeared onto her skin.

"and... i'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that this boxing ring thing... isn't legal, right?"

vi tries her best at one of her usual, charming, lopsided grins, but it just ends up looking something like a grimace instead.

"legal's not where the money is, sweetness."

you lean forward with a fresh sanitary wipe and motion for her to hold still again. she does, offering you her other cheek, her eyes now startlingly clear as they flicker over the planes of your face. you wonder how drunk she really is, or if she's just gotten terribly good at hiding it.

"but... i thought that you guys were in a rent-controlled unit? what'dyou need all this money for?"

vi scoffs, her eyes lowering.

"pow's university tuition isn't gonna pay for itself."

her voice is soft, low, her words steady. you pause, frowning slightly at her as she sighs and leans back to cast you a sad little grin.

"ah... now that i've told you, 'fraid i'm gonna have to killa ya," she winks. you don't smile, only turning to discard the dirty wipe for another fresh one.

"i thought the bar --"

"it doesn't make enough -- and powder -- she --" vi sucks in a long breath, her eyes fluttering closed. when she opens them again, it's the eyes you remember, the eyes you'd spent so many afternoons and evenings staring into -- there's light and laughter, a fire that can't be extinguished, a light that can't be dimmed, a hard-lined conviction that makes them shine even on the darkest of moonless nights.

"she deserves every opportunity. that girl --" vi lets out a helpless little scoff, "she's gonna change the world one day, i just know it. if we can only --" she makes an abortive gesture with her hand.

you nod, reaching out to wipe away a small smudge of eyeliner beneath her eye. she stills beneath your touch, the cool of your skin against her burning cheek makes her shiver.

a thin tendril of tired, incredulous laughter slithers up your chest; vi's eyebrows kick up as you let out a giggle -- the only warning she gets -- before you're toppling into a fit of truly stomach-clenching laughter, leaning back into your sofa cushions, clutching your belly.

"a-are you alright?" vi asks, blinking at you with mild alarm as you shake your head, flapping your hands at her, unable to form any kind of coherent thought. you wipe at the tears forming at the corner of your eyes, and somewhere between one breath and the next, your laughs turn into frustrated sobs, and you shove vi reproachfully as she stares at you, totally nonplussed by this strange turn of events.

"y-you're such an idiot!" you say between heaving breaths, rubbing at your eyes. you feel lightheaded; the clock on the microwave blinks a bleary 4:42AM at the pair of you.

vi stares, completely nonplussed as you sniffled and reach over to snag a few tissues, daubing at your eyes.

"there're so many things you can do to get money -- you don't have to --" you gesture at her, "get yourself killed in an illegal fighting ring -- and you don't --" you jab a single finger into her chest, hard enough for her to flinch back, "have to try to do it alone."

she blinks, once, twice --

"uh..."

you sigh, rolling your eyes, "god, you're so stupid -- for someone with a genius sister --"

vi makes a slightly affronted noise, "i got good grades in school!"

you tear open a packet of neosporin with perhaps more savagery than necessary, nearly dropping it. you glare at the tiny packet before squeezing a large dollop onto your finger and motioning for vi to lean in. she eyes you for a solid three seconds before slowly leaning forward.

you lave the gel onto the cut on her cheek before peeling open a bandaid to cover it up.

"there. that's waterproof, so it won't come off when you take a shower."

"when i take a shower?" vi asks, her head cocking to one side.

you cast her a sharp look, "you're so gross right now, of course you've gotta shower."

vi hiccups into her fist before shooting you a sheepish grin.

"i could just shower at home."

you narrow your eyes, "it's 5am -- and i'm pretty sure powder's got a massive midterm tomorrow. you're staying here tonight."

"ah. yes. of... course," vi says, biting back an amused chuckle before looking around at the couch beneath her.

"well, i've always liked this couch."

you close the first-aid kit with a sharp snap.

"if you shower within the next --" you glance back at the clock on the microwave, "10 minutes or so, you can sleep in the bedroom. but if i'm asleep when you're done then you're gonna have to sleep out here -- i don't like being woken up." you try to sound stern, though it might have just come out sounding petulant.

vi grins, the expression so familiar to you it singes a line of heat down the center of your spine.

"oop -- guess i'd better shower quick then!" she pushes off the sofa and jogs for the bathroom, swiveling around by the door to give you a soft smile and a -- "hey... thanks."

you roll your eyes at her and flap your hand, "go. shower!"

you slip into bed, listening to the shower water run, a twist of something collecting in your gut as you hear the sounds of the water turn off and the unmistakable noises of vi toweling off. you burrow further into your blankets as her footsteps thump through the apartment, the slight creak of your bedroom door swinging open as she slips in, the shape of her limned in moonlight as she slowly makes her way to the other side of the bed.

"hey sugar... you still awake?"

you crinkle your nose, and for a second, consider feigning sleep. but the next second, she's slipping into the blankets next to you, her skin warm to the touch as she shuffles closer.

"yeah," you answer, a second later.

she shuffles just a bit closer; you flip around to face her, gasping as you realize how close she is -- your noses almost touching. her eyes widen as they meet yours, and you could swear that even in the pre-dawn dark, you can see her cheeks rioting with color.

she clears her throat but doesn't make to pull away.

"y'know, usually when i get invited into someone's bed... it's a lot sexier than this."

you puff out a breathy laugh, "yeah? i'm sure. why don't you tell me about it tomorrow, when we're compiling all the scholarships that we're gonna help powder apply to?"

vi falls quiet, her gaze going startlingly liquid, and for a second, you wonder if she's going to cry too. but then, she's leaning in, pressing her forehead to yours --

"god... sweets... what the fuck did i do to deserve you?"

you snuggle in closer, your heartbeat a livewire thrum at the back of your throat.

"nothing... you were just... you."

vi lets out a shaky breath, her eyes falling shut.

"shit, sugar... what the hell, man... it wasn't supposed to be like this."

you laugh as she sniffles, tugging you closer, her palm warm along your waist, her fingers pressing into your skin.

"yeah? did you have it all planned out? help the new girl move in? watch movies and make food with her on the weekends till she falls in love with you?"

vi's breath hitches. you bite your tongue.

still, she doesn't refute you. finally, she manages --

"i just... never thought it'd... get this bad..."

you sigh, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

"y'know, for a smart girl, you're really dumb sometimes."

vi pulls back, sighing, "yeah... i -- i know. and i know that powder and vander probably know too -- they just -- they just... knew me too well to try and --"

"force it out of you?" you supply. vi nods, her hair tickling your skin as she burrow in against you, her body curling in till she's in a fetal position, her face pressed into your chest, her breath fanning hot against your collarbones.

"well, lucky for me --" you say, reaching up to run a hand through her hair, caressing at the still-damp ends, "i didn't have to -- you came knocking all on your own."

vi's quiet for another few beats before --

"i wasn't lying y'know... i really did... miss you." her voice catches, the words cracking over one another like river stones.

you graze your lips along her hairline, nodding, "yeah, i know... i missed you too, vi."

she wraps her arms around you and pulls you in, pressing you to her so completely your chest almost starts to sting with the pressure.

a few minutes later, she relents, releasing you just enough for you to suck in a long, steadying breath.

"did you really mean it? that thing about... the scholarships for powder?"

you nod, "course i did. and we can look up loans too! i had to take one out when i went to college too, so i'm pretty familiar with them. it's alright -- we'll figure it out -- together."

vi nods, chuckling softly against you.

"mm... before all that though..." she tugs back just far enough to look at you, her voice husky as she leans in to brush her nose to yours --

"d'you think... you might allow me the honor of making you breakfast?"

[luludeluluramblings]

SugarBaby!Neglected!BatSib!Reader x Tony Stark - Part Two

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I started this while inspired by Pregnant!Reader. But, it’s just fluff and possible comfort. I had the dialogue written for the past few months, but just got around to finishing it. I’m worried I’m both rusty and still amateurish. 🙃 Sorry if this ain’t what y’all had in mind!

Previous Reader x Tony Stark

Warnings: Fluffy, wholesome, unplanned pregnancy, GN!Reader (or at least attempted), bedroom activities mentioned.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You had taken multiple test. Multiple. Gone to at least two private doctors. You even had Jarvis do a full body scan before telling him not to tell Tony.

You needed to be the one to do it.

So in proper fashion, you decided to tell him as soon as possible. Before anything else blew up or there was some Alien robot monkey attack.

It just happened to be on movie night.

“Tony, love. My dearest husband.” You start as you walk into you fancy penthouse kitchen, holding the box filled with multiple test in your arms since you know the man will need all the proof he can get his hands on.

“Oh no, I don’t like that tone. That is not good not good tone at all. Nope. I don’t want to hear any bad news on Star Wars night.” Already he can catch on that something is up as he personally mixes a few drinks for you both while reading some research articles for one of his projects like multitasker he is.

“It might be good news.” You sheepishly say as you set the box on the counter and move to wrap your arms around his waist.

“Not with that tone.” He snorts out as he starts to make your favorite drink, only for you to lightly touch his arm to stop him.

“Alright, it’s just news.” You murmur into his back, a bit more serious.

Tony can feel the shift happening. Picking up on one of the social cues that something was going on. He put down the bottles and turned off his glasses, setting them on the counter.

“It’s bothering you isn’t it?” He asked, catching on as he spun in your arms and wrapped his own arms around you.

“Yep.” You look up at him, resting your chin against his chest and taking a moment to breathe him in.

“Is it good news?”

“Just… brace yourself.” You give him a pleading look, trying to think of the best way to say it.

“Oh boy.” He gives a playful wince as he tries to alleviate the tension he feels under your shoulder blades.

“So, the barebacking kinda bit us in the ass.” Probably wasn’t the best way to say it, but you thought he would get it.

“What?”

Apparently you were wrong. Modern lingo was a flop.

“The barebacking kinda bit us in the —“ You try again, awkwardly.

“No. I mean, sweetheart, you’re gonna have to explain—“ Confusion and playful annoyance washing over him. You always liked to use modern slang and memes on him to be funny. But, it wasn’t translating well until you finally blurted it out.

“I’m pregnant.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, shit! Are you sure it’s mine?” Was the first thing he blurts out as it sinks into him.

“Tony!” You admonished him, giving him a glare as you looked up at him.

“Sorry, habit! Sorry! Just… What do you want to do about it?“ He pulls away, and it stings. But, you know he’s just trying to cope with the information.

“I— I don’t know… What do you want to do about it?” You echo the same sentiments, just as lost as him in that moment.

“I— I’m not good with babies, or toddlers, or kids, or pre-teens — Hell, I’m not good with people in general.” Hearing him say that makes you soften. You knew his insecurities. You shared some of them yourself. And, seeing him like this made something in you shift from uncertainty to acceptance.

“Tony…” You tried to get his attention, but he continued to spiral like a falling plane.

“And- And, I have daddy issues, with minor mommy issues. On top of all other sorts of issues.” Mayday. Mayday.

“Tony.” You try to be a bit firmer.

“I overwork. I’m an ass— you said that just last night too.” You almost want to laugh at how animated he’s being. Pacing back and forth, using his fingers to count out each and every little or large reason.

“Tony.” However, you do find yourself growing exasperated at his spiraling.

“Hang on, I’m trying to make a point here. Anyway, I’d be a—“

“Good dad.” You interrupt. Saying it all confident and nonchalant. Like he did the day he said he loved you.

You can tell it stuns him. Which is rare. It only last for a second before he starts to try to spiral again.

“Babe—“

“No. I’m serious. You’d be a good one.” You verbally take the helm. Something you rarely did in your relationship.

“Just because you call me daddy in bed— Actually that might have tempted fate here. Do you think Thor or one his divine buddies had something to do with this?” Humor. His favorite way of coping. But, it’s a decent sign. It means he is actually processing this. So you add your own comment.

“Pretty sure it was you busting a nut in—“

“Hey, knock it off or we’ll end up defiling the counters again.”

You do laugh at that. It’s how you both have learned to ease into things. The hard topics are easier to digest with a bit of laughter and time.

“Tony.” His name is softer as you reach for him.

“Sweetheart.” He almost teasingly says, but his voice it a little raw. However, he doesn’t pull away. A good sign. A great sign.

But, you know it’s not all over yet. There’s still more to say and Tony is as jumpy as a jack rabbit when it comes to his feelings.

“Tony, you’d be a great dad.” You whisper gently.

It’s easy to tell it’s gotten through by he goes completely still. You can barely even see him breathe. Another one of his tells you’ve learned since loving him.

“How do you know?” He asks. His voice doesn’t break. But, it’s fractured. There’s cracks in it, but it doesn’t fall apart.

“Because you would actually try.” You start to say. Tony rarely accepted praise despite his ego. So you had a limited opportunity to work with this and only your relationship to back it up.

“We both a millions of issues between the two of us. Hell, we could probably be a case study for a couple of psychologists. But, I want to give a part of you and a part of me something we didn’t have.”

And, that’s the conclusion you’ve come to when remembering your time in the manor. Growing up never being good enough for Bruce. Watching your father pick everyone in a city you didn’t know over you again and again. Watching your siblings do the same. How they had their exclusive club that you were never allowed yo be apart of.

A feeling of inadequacy that you developed even after you told yourself over and over again that it was fine.

You felt your resolve start to form. As if all those childish things that weighed you down were insignificant in making this decision.

“I’m not going to do this without you though. If you want to do this I’m all for it. If don’t think you can I’m still going to love you, regardless.” Even if you felt yourself come around to it, you knew it would take time for Tony too.

He wasn’t going to leave you. You knew that. You had learned that. Maybe from the way he had firmly told you that you were stuck with him forever and he’d crawl back to you no matter what.

You’re pretty sure he had been quoting a movie or something because you had laughed at how ridiculous he sounded. But, that look in his eyes made you realize he was completely serious about what he meant.

A long moment of silence washes over you. You can tell he’s uncomfortable by it even though you aren’t. You don’t rush him though. Giving him the chance to crack another joke and move on like nothing happened. Or, to find the words he wants to say.

“I think… I want to do this. I don’t know. You’re giving me those mushy feelings again. The ones that make me want to cry.” A smile breaks out on your face as you rest your chin on his chest to look up at him.

It’s not a no. It’s not a yes. Hell, it’s not even a maybe. It’s just an idea. But, Tony is great with ideas. You’ll probably have to deal with him locking himself in his workshop for a week. However, you’ll be waiting outside for him ready to hear anything has to say.

“Want to bone me against the window and possibly cause a small public scandal, then ignore the PR team while we watch Star Wars? You know, to help cope with the mushy feelings?” You offer with a wiggle of your eyebrows and a mischievous grin. One that earns you a relieved smile and a kiss in return.

“God, I love you.” Is all he says before he takes you up on that exact offer. The kisses growing more heated as a trail of clothes begins to form towards the window of the penthouse.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I didn’t expect people to like my previous Tony work at all. It was just a brain worm that I pulled out and splattered on my keyboard. So, I applied the same method here, but with a bit more finesse. I think.

A/N: This is basically a prequel. Before the Batfam finds out and goes Yandere for SugarBaby!Reader.

[cherrygirlfriend]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ cuffing season

pairing: reader x bsf!rafe synopsis: reader isn't getting enough attention from rafe, so she has the bright idea to cuff herself to him. warnings: smut, piv, unprotected sex, MDNI! - wc: 1.7k a/n; i’ve lowkey been depressed and uninspired lately so i might just post my old content for a bit. anyway; originally posted 12/14/2024

bsf!masterlist ♡ rafe masterlist ♡

every man smarter than a fifth grader knows one thing for a fact; women thrive on attention. when you ignore a flower, leaving it in the shade, unwatered for days, it wilts up and dies. and you may have well been a gardenia in your past life with how much attention you required. and you? you were definitely wilting up.

it had been two weeks since you last saw rafe; you'd texted him, trying to make plans, but he kept saying how 'busy' he was, or telling you to buy something nice, and it'd be "his treat". what use were cute clothes and sexy lingerie when there was no one to show them off to?

to be fair, he really was busy. you preferred to keep yourself in the dark when it came to rafe's business, simply humming a song inside your head when he talked business with someone while you were sitting in his lap, but you knew he spent most of his time cooped up in his father's old office, but now, he was barely answering your texts, and you decided enough was enough.

so, one night you decided to surprise him. to help him... destress.

you put on one of the new lingerie sets you'd gotten on rafe's dime, wearing nothing over it but the classic/cliché beige trenchcoat, a surprise in your pocket.

you got out of the uber in front of the cameron household, your heels clicking against the cobblestone as you walked up to the door. normally, you'd ring the doorbell, but not wanting to ruin the surprise, you took the key rafe had given to you for 'emergencies', in this case it really was an emergency. you felt like you might die if he didn't touch you.

kicking the heels off your feet when you got inside, you looked around; the house you'd spent time in ever since you were both kids was always so strange in the dark. and now that rafe was the only one living there, the house felt... lifeless.

as you tiptoed up the stairs, you were starting to hear rafe's heated voice, sending shivers down your spine, a small heat in the pit of your stomach starting to spread as you got closer to the door, slightly ajar.

"i don't fucking care what you need to do, just get it done!" he shouted, and you could hear the springs of the office chair, before a breathy sigh left his lips.

"rafe?" you said softly, the man you were looking for startling straight in his chair, looking at you with wide eyes as you stood in the crack of the door.

"oh..." he let out a breath, relaxing again, "it's just you."

"wow!" you scoffed playfully, "what a nice way to greet me." you said as you made your way into the room, walking closer to him, a small grin starting to spread on his lips.

"what are you doing here?" he asked, looking up at you, bringing one of your hands to his lips, pressing small kisses to the back of it, "did i miss a text telling you were coming? if i did, i'm sorry, i've been on the phone for the-"

"shh." you moved your hand to cover his mouth, rafe's brows raising in amusement. "i didn't text you."

he took your hand away from his mouth, "ah, so a surprise visit. well, i hate to disappoint you, but-"

the moment your coat hit the floor, his jaw seemed to be doing the same, the smile on your lips only widening further as you spun around for him, pretending to show off the lingerie instead of tempting him.

"what do you think?" you smiled innocently, "you told me to get something nice, your treat, so i did. i thought you'd wanna see it. oh, by the way, the coat was also on you."

"shit..." his hands found your hips, and you could hear him swallow as he watched the way your ass curved around the thong. you turned your head to look at him, noticing the growing bulge in his pants, "if i didn't have to finish this right now... the things i'd do..."

you turned your body around fully to face him, a small frown on your face as you brought your arms in front of your chest, his hands still resting on your hips. "rafe cameron, you have a half-naked woman standing in front of you, and all you're worried about is work! i need attention too!"

rafe let out a breath he felt like he had been holding in for the past two weeks, "baby, just give me thirty minutes to finish-"

but you didn't even give him three seconds. before he'd even noticed anything, you'd grabbed the pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs out of your coat's pocket, cuffing one around rafe's wrist, and one around yours, the man looking at you with wide eyes.

"what the hell?!" he exclaimed as he stood up, now cuffed to you.

"no 'thirty minutes', no 'fifteen minutes', no more minutes!" you exclaimed, now looking up at him, "i've been missing you for two weeks, and if you make me wait one more second to have your lips on mine, i'm never letting you touch me aga-!"

before you could finish your sentence, rafe had pulled you to his chest, his lips crashing against yours, his lips conveying the yearning he'd been feeling for the past two weeks, mixing in with the yearning you'd felt, pure electricity transferring between the two of you, his body melding into yours, his erection pressing against your.

when you finally pulled apart, the harsh breaths you were letting out mixing in with his, your bodies, and a string of saliva still connecting you.

"you have no idea how much i've wanted you..." he breathed out, causing you to let out a small chuckle.

"me? you have no idea how much i've been craving you."

you pushed him until he was sitting in the chair, the springs of the office chair squeaking, rafe's brows lifted in surprise. you bent slightly to pull down the sweatpants he'd been wearing with your free hand, before you settled yourself onto his lap, feeling his erection through his calvin kleins.

"oh? are you taking control?" he asked in a playful tone as you ground yourself against his bulge, causing him to let out a groan, his a small wet patch already forming on his boxers as you continued grinding yourself against him.

you'd spent the past two weeks needily humping yourself against a plushie rafe had given you, watching videos you two had taken together, and even though you were only grinding your clothed cunt against his clothed cock, you knew that your moments spent alone had nothing on the moments you got to spend with him.

"i need you..." you whispered into his ear, tugging down his boxers, rafe letting out a small hiss as his erection was freed, your lips sucking on the sensitive spot on his ear, a beautiful whimper leaving his lips.

"i need you even more." he said, in turn tugging down the panties you were wearing before his free hand went to your tits, cupping and squeezing them through your bra.

"wanna bet?"

you brought your cuffed hand to his, rafe's free hand on his cock, gathering some of the wetness at your entrance with his tip, and you could picture it mixing in with his precum as he brought the tip of his cock to your entrance, and he was so close, but somehow it felt like you were both in whole different universes.

"i'm sorry..." rafe mumbled, intertwining your fingers, "i promise i'll pay more attention to you... i've just been so busy..."

"i don't ca-"

your sentence was interrupted when you felt his tip enter you, both of you letting out similar groans.

"fuck... has your pussy somehow gotten even tighter, huh? it feels so nice n snug around me, baby..."

"maybe she's just missed daddy..." you sink even further down his cock, rafe letting out groans that were so similar to the first time you two ever had sex, his eyes fixed on you as you sunk lower and lower on his cock until you felt him right there, causing you to let out a gasp.

"looks like she has..." rafe chuckled, bringing his free hand to your hips, as well as the hand intertwined with yours, "you wanna help daddy, hm?" he chuckled, but you were too drunk on the feeling of him in you, under you, around you, to even react to his teasings, so rafe started to move you on his cock, helping you with his hips and his hands.

soon, you were bouncing on his cock without even really realizing what was happening. his cuffed hand was still intertwined with yours, both of them pressed against your hips, as his free hand held onto you, rafe basically guiding you on him, at least until his free hand moved closer to your tummy, his thumb pressed against your clit, slowly circling it, but even without his guidance, your hips knew the rhythm, knew exactly what to do.

your head was thrown back, completely lost in the ecstasy, rafe's touch the only thing you could feel, every time the head of his cock hit your cervix, every circle he drew on your clit with his thumb, and before you even realized it, you were moaning and practically panting his name uncontrollably, the squeeze of your wall around his cock causing rafe to let out grunts as you felt the knot in your stomach finally coming undone.

but as rafe continued fucking up into you, you knew he was nowhere near done with you.

"how does three orgasms sound?" rafe chuckled, lifting his hips with slightly more vigor, the man hitting your cervix right in the middle of your orgasm, squeezing your cuffed hand. "that enough attention for you?"

[harbours-lighthouse]

Jason caught it in the corner of his eye. Sitting in the parking lot beneath your apartment, was a gleaming Yamaha MT motorcycle. Spotless. Clean.

It's a naked model, he thinks, as he can see the engine clearly. It's black, with accented colours streaked along the sides.

Jason glances around the parking lot, eyes sweeping along the shadows and cement pillars. No one else is here. It's only him.

With muted curiosity, he ambles towards the bike with his hands shoved in his pockets. He knows you won't fuss too much if he's a minute behind his schedule (which was simply messaging you about three minutes ago, saying he's arrived at the complex).

Circling the bike, he takes it in. It's a nice model. Sleek. Expensive. He wonders who owns it, because it isn't the smartest idea to keep such a bike out in the open.

Especially in Gotham.

But as he looks down at the tires—that look brand new—he notices three locks wrapped around one of the suspensions. Huffing in amusement, he sees they're connected to the metal guard rail behind him that's been pushed up against the wall.

"Not bad," he mumbles beneath his breath. Steam puffs into the air.

It's cold, and the numbness of his nose makes it to the forefront of his mind again.

Sparing the bike one last lingering, appreciative glance, he crosses the parking lot with long strides, and slips into the elevator when the doors slide open.

When they open again, he's greeted with a long, carpeted hallway. The lights are dim. They flicker. He searches for the woodgrain door with the number 208 painted on the front.

Finding it and feeling his heart flutter in his chest at the thought of you, he knocks on the door. He waits, leaning on his left leg.

There's a muffled commotion inside, a faint 'ow' that makes him frown.

Then your voice calls out, "One sec, I'm coming—damn it!"

Jason's head dips with a hidden smile; he imagines you struggling with something. Maybe the cat got underneath your feet again. Or maybe you were hurrying to put something on, and couldn't get your head through the t-shirt—

The door swings open, and you stand inside the frame with an almost frazzled look about you.

Jason perks a brow. "Hi."

"Hey," you say breathlessly, smiling.

"You, uh...you okay?"

"....I got tangled in my blanket and tripped."

Well, at least you're honest. Jason shakes his head with a soft grin. He steps into your apartment and curls his arm around your shoulders, guiding you with him.

"How you’re not dead with the things you manage to do is beyond me," he murmurs close to your ear.

You groan quietly, "I'm not that bad."

"Babe—"

"I've seen how Tim is. Now he's the definition of clumsy."

"Fair point."

You slip out of Jason's hold, not without kissing his cheek, and move to the kitchen.

Jason, feeling at ease, drops himself on the couch. The TV is still on, frozen on a scene in a movie. It's your favourite movie. Or 'comfort movie', as you've said before.

He hears the clink of glasses in the kitchen. The shuffle of your footsteps.

"How was patrol last night by the way?" you call out to him. "I know you weren't able to drop by 'cause you had to go back to the Manor this time."

Jason runs a rough hand down his face. "Yeah, it was fine. Tiresome, but fine."

He doesn't want to really talk about it. Not here in your warm apartment. Not with you and the normality you give him.

Outside, the traffic hums. He hears the roar of an engine—he remembers the bike.

"Hey, babe?"

"Hm?"

"Who owns that Yamaha bike in the parking lot?"

You come around the corner, holding two mugs of steaming coffee. Your eyes lock with his.

"Oh. It's mine."

"What?"

© harbours-lighthouse 2025

[i-get-obsessed-fast]

Lacy

Well, aren’t you the greatest thing to ever exist.

Summary: You see your ex and his new girlfriend out at the bar and can’t help but feel a bit insecure, but no worries because Spencer Reid is there to remind you of your worth.

A/N: tbh I lost the plot halfway into writing this and got SO into the tension lol hope you enjoy still <3 xoxo

BYR(b4 you Reid): Alcohol, TENSION, kissing (ofc), feeling unworthy, and mention of case

The bar is buzzing, low lights, the hum of conversation, and the occasional clink of glasses.

The team had practically dragged you here, insisting that a night out was long overdue. After weeks of exhausting cases, the idea of cold drinks and hanging out with your favorite people outside of work hours didn’t seem too bad now that you were here.

You smiled as Penelope cheered. “To surviving the monsters of the world!” She raised her pink cocktail up high, all of you following her lead.

But the warmth from that moment is gone now.

You see them before they see you.

It’s like the universe had something out for you, your ex, standing just across the room, illuminated by the neon glow of the bar sign.

And not to far from him is his girlfriend, Madison. God she was perfect, her blonde hair, her long legs, the way she carried herself.

Her laugh rings out like wind chimes, angelic.

You were over your ex. But when you see who he ended up with, a flicker of insecurity crept in. She was nothing like you. Effortlessly feminine, with a kind of beauty that turned heads without even trying.

You’d met her a couple times before, back when she was just someone in his orbit. Even then you couldn’t help but be drawn to her. There was something captivating about the way she carried herself, like she belonged in the spotlight without even asking for it. And now, standing next to your ex, she seemed even more perfect. The thought lingered, no matter how much you wished it wouldn’t.

Your stomach tightens, watching the way they fit so perfectly together.

“You okay?” Spencer’s voice is gentle. He’s sitting beside you, long fingers wrapped around a half-empty glass of something dark.

The concern in his eyes is immediate, his brows pulling together the way they always do when something unsettles him.

“Yeah.” You manage, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m fine.”

You’re not fine.

You turn to Spencer, and the moment your eyes meet, he knows something is wrong. His gaze flickers past you, and when he spots them, understanding dawns on him.

“Don’t worry about them.” He says softly, his voice steady.

You nod, trying to convince yourself to follow his advice. But a part of you can’t resist, one last glance. It’s a mistake. Your eyes locked with his, and the familiar ache returns, sharp, and unwelcome.

“Oh no.” You mutter under your breath, watching them start toward you.

Spencer knows all about your ex, the way he tore you down piece by piece, the amount of nights you spent in tears because of him, and how his words made you question your worth.

Spencer hated every second of it.

It baffled him how someone like you, so kind and strong could have ever been treated that way.

When the breakup finally happened, Spencer hadn’t even tried to hide his relief. He was your safe place through it all, your constant.

He’d sat with you through the worst nights, held you while you cried, whispered reassurances that you were worth so much more. There were countless evenings when he’d stay over just to make sure you weren’t alone, reading to you until your breathing slowed, running his fingers through your hair until you fell asleep.

Now, as your ex and his girlfriend draw closer, Spencer’s hand instinctively finds yours beneath the table. His fingers curl around yours, warm and steady, grounding you. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Y/n?” Your ex says

“Alex.” His name tumbled awkwardly from your lips before you could stop it.

But you’re quick to recover, straightening your shoulders as you flash them a perfectly sweet, undeniably fake smile.

“Hey.” He says, “it’s been awhile.”

You can barely breathe.

“Yeah.” You nod stiffly. “It has.”

His eyes shift over to Spencer. “Hey, Spencer! How’s it going?” He extended his hand, expecting a handshake.

Spencer barely spared it a glance, giving a curt nod instead. “Hey.” He replied, keeping his hands where they had been, making it clear he had no intention on reciprocating.

Madison smiles that perfect, enviable smile that makes you feel even smaller. She’s prettier up close.

“Hi!” She says sweetly. “Hello.” You smile in return

Spencer shifts beside you, you could see the tension in his jaw, he didn’t like this.

“So, uh you guys here together or?” Alex asks with an eyebrow raised, “No the rest of the team is probably on the dance floor.” You say

“Oh so you still work for the BAU? That job, it was the reason for most of our arguments.” He laughed

“Yup. Still there.” You nodded as you took a sip from your drink. “And you?”

“Doing well. Madison and I actually just moved in together.” He casually says, like it didn’t twist the knife even deeper.

“Oh…that’s great.”

Madison beams, completely unaware, or maybe entirely aware, of the weight her presence carries. “It’s been wonderful. He’s so helpful.” She gushes as she leans into him, her hand resting on his chest. “I’m really lucky.”

Lucky.

You want to throw up.

“You know, y/n’s been doing some incredible work. We just closed a tough case in Miami. A women was targeting men who had abused her, both physically and emotionally. It was complicated, but y/n was the one who made the connection that led us to the unsub. Without her, we wouldn’t have had stopped her in time.” He says, never breaking eye contact.

It was subtle, but you catch the protective edge in his tone. He wasn’t just making small talk, he was reminding them, reminding you, of your worth.

Madison tilts her head curious. “Wow, that’s impressive.”

“It is.” Spencer agrees, his gaze steady. “She’s one of the best profilers we have.”

The words hang between you, their weight pushing back against the ache in your chest, and for the first time since they’ve walked up, you breathe a little easier.

“Well.” Your ex clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable now. “It was nice seeing you, y/n. Spencer you as well.”

“Right.” Spencer says, you just nodded.

Madison offers one last smile before they disappear into the crowd, their laughter trailing behind them. But it doesn’t sting quite as much now.

Spencer shifts his focus on you, studying your face carefully. “You okay?”

You exhale, the knot in your chest loosening. “I think so.”

“You didn’t have to be so nice, you know.” He murmurs. “Not to them.”

The comment catches you off guard. Spencer Reid, the guy who’s kind to everyone, even the people who don’t deserve it, is telling you that you didn’t have to be polite? It’s enough to make you pause, blinking up at him.

“Yeah, I know.” You reply with a slight smile, trying to shake off the lingering tension.

“Maybe we should do another round?” Spencer suggest, your mouth falls open in disbelief. “Okay, now what did you do with Spencer Reid?”

He laughed. “The Spencer I know doesn’t suggest another round of shots.” You continue

He shrugs, clearly enjoying the reaction. “I just want to make sure you have a good night. And I meant what I said earlier, you’ve been doing incredible work. We wouldn’t be here without you.”

“Spencer, you’re too sweet.” You say, your heart fluttering.

He calls the bartender over, ordering another round. Before long, the drinks are passed around between you and your friends, and the night pulls you in further.

You lose track of how many you’ve had, not that it matters.

Laughter bubbles from your lips, and somewhere along the way, you end up with Emily and Penelope singing and dancing on a mini stage.

You guys moved together on beat, laughing at each other, and singing to each other as if no one was watching.

You guys looked crazy.

“I need a break.” You giggle, peeling yourself away. “You better come back!” Emily shouts, spinning dramatically.

You wave her off with a laugh, your chest raising and falling as you catch your breath. The moment you glance toward the bar, you spot him, Spencer lounging in a chair, nursing a drink, and watching you.

His eyes are steady, like he’s been keeping track of you the whole time.

Without thinking, you make your way over. The alcohol has softened your nerves, and before you can second guess it, you slip an arm around him, settling onto his lap.

“Are- are you alright?” Spencer stammers, his hands instinctively resting on your waist as if to steady you.

You nod, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face. “I just needed to sit down.”

“There was a seat right next to me.” He points out, though the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s fighting a smile.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” You’re already preparing to stand, but his hands tighten gently, holding you in place.

“No, no. not at all.”

Your fingers trail along his jawline, tracing the sharp lines of his face. His breath hitches, but he doesn’t pull away. The warmth in his eyes makes your chest tighten.

“Thank you.” You whisper, leaning in close enough that your lips brush the shell of his ear. “You really helped me today.”

“How?” His voice cracks slightly, his face only inches from yours. You guys were playing a dangerous game.

“With Alex.”

Spencer shrugs like it was nothing. “I only said the truth.”

You nodded, and let silence fall as your fingers threaded through the hair at the back of his neck.

“Am I pretty?” You suddenly ask, he blinks. Startled. “What?”

“Be honest. Not just because you’re my friend. Am I pretty? Like Madison pretty or just pretty…”

His jaw tightens, something flashes behind his eyes, frustration, maybe. Or something deeper.

“You’re beautiful y/n.” He tells you, you sucked in your lips.

“Y/n.” He sighs. “You can’t compare yourself to her. Alex was a-a jerk, who always made you feel like you weren’t enough, but you are. And he’s gone now. You don’t have to think like that anymore.”

Your teeth catch your bottom lip as you absorb his words. “So if you think I’m beautiful, why haven’t you ever said it?”

Spencer visibly tenses. “What?”

“Why haven’t you ever told me I was beautiful?”

“I-” his voice falters, his hands still firmly on your waist. “I’m telling you now.”

“Yeah, but only because I brought it up.”

He swallows hard, you could see his Adam’s apple, and his fingers trace absentmindedly against your side. Then, in a moment of quiet resolve, he laces his hand with yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“I didn’t think you’d ever want to hear me say that.”

Your heart thuds painfully. “I think you’re pretty Spencer. I think you’re handsome. I think you’re smart and funny. And-” you smile softly “perfect.”

His breathing picks up, and for a moment, he’s speechless. He clears his throat. “So why haven’t you told me all this before?”

You grin. “Touché.”

The electricity between you is undeniable. Your fingers continue to twirl absentmindedly in his hair, and he leans into your touch like he doesn’t want it to stop.

When your hand moves to cup his face, the tension snaps. Before you could think better of it, you press your lips to his.

At first, he melts into it, his mouth moving softly against yours. But then reality crashes in. Spencer pulls back, his chest rising and falling as he stares at you.

“Y/n, you’re drunk.”

You shake your head, trying to close the distance again, but he gently grabs yours arms trying to keep you still. “I want you, Spencer.” You whisper, your thumb tracing along his lips.

His eyes flicker with something you can’t quite read. “I want you too.” He admits, his voice low. “But not like this. Not when you might regret it in the morning.”

“I won’t.”

“You might.” He says softly. “And I respect you too much to let that happen.”

Your shoulders slump as you tuck your face into the crook of his neck. The warmth of his skin, the steady rhythm of his breathing.

“I value you, y/n. You’re not just a coworker, or my friend. You’re someone I care about, and I can’t lose you over one night.”

“Okay.” You whisper, though the ache remains.

“Come on.” He murmurs, his hand slipping into yours as he helps you stand.

As you weave through the crowd, Derek raises a brow, his grin all too knowing. “Where are you two heading?”

“She’s drunk.” Spencer explains, his arm steady around your waist. “No, I’m not.” You argue.

Derek laughs. “Uh-huh. You two be safe. Let me know when you get home.”

Spencer nods, his hold on you never wavering.

“Spencer.” You mumble once you’re outside, the cool air biting at your skin. “Yeah?”

“Can I spend the night with you?”

He pauses, his eyes searching yours. He wasn’t going to let you go home all by yourself anyway.

“Yeah.” He says softly. “Of course.”

You grin. “Yay.”

“And you’re going to read me a book, right?” You ask, he nodded. “If that’s what you want, is there any more requests?”

“Play with my hair.” You say. “All right, but I doubt you’re going to stay awake.”

“I will.” You insist, thought the sleepiness was already creeping in.

By the time you reach Spencer’s apartment, you were beyond exhausted. He guided you inside with careful hands, the warmth of his touch lingering. You barely noticed as he knelt to slip your shoes off, the tenderness of the gesture making your chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with alcohol.

“Come on.” He murmured, leading you to his room.

He disappeared into his closet for a moment, rummaging around, and returned with one of his worn t-shirts, and a pair of pajama pants.

“Here.” He offered them to you.

“Thanks.” You smiled, your fingers brushing against his as you took the clothes. Without a second thought, you pulled your shirt over your head.

Spencer spun around so fast, it was almost comical. “O-okay. Just- uh, let me know if you need anything.” His voice cracked slightly, his ears burning red.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Spence, you’ve seen worse things at crime scenes. Is my body really that bad?” You tease. “No, it’s not your body. It’s just, it was unexpected.” He says as he rubs the back of his neck and makes his way out of the room shutting the door behind him.

Once you were changed, you settled beneath his blankets. His scent surrounded you, clean and familiar, like old books and a hint of coffee. It was intoxicating.

A light knock came at the door. “You okay?”

“Yup.”

He stepped inside, his gaze immediately softening when he seen you wrapped up in his blankets. In his hands was a mug of tea and a small plate of crackers. “Here. The tea should help in the morning. And the crackers just so you don’t sleep on an empty stomach.”

Your chest swelled at the gesture. “Spencer.” you whispered, taking the cup from him. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” he lingered, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. “I was going to crash on the couch.”

Your brows furrowed. “But you never sleep on the couch when I stay over.”

“I just thought you might want some space.”

“I don't want space.” you said, your voice low, almost pleading. “I want you here.”

“Okay, I'll be right back.”

You watched as he disappeared into his closet, and when he returned, he'd changed into a loose t-shirt and sweatpants. The sight of him so relaxed, sent a flutter through your chest.

He crossed the room, sliding under the blankets on the other side of the bed. You felt the warmth of him, the shift of the mattress beneath his weight.

You finished up your tea, and crackers eager to lay down already.

“Can we cuddle?” You ask, his lips quirked, but his voice was tender. “Yeah.”

Without hesitation, you scooted closer, nestling into his side. His arms instinctively wrap around you, his fingers brushing lightly against your back. You swore you could feel his heart pounding, the rhythm quick and steady.

His hand found its way to your hair, his fingers trailing through it with practiced ease. The sensation lulled you almost immediately, every stroke unraveling the tension you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

“Y/n.” He whispered after a while, his lips close enough to brush against your forehead.

“Hmm?” You were barely awake now, the warmth of him anchoring you.

“I was supposed to read to you.” He murmured, a smile in his voice.

But you don’t respond. Your breathes had evened out, soft and rhythmic against his chest. He gazed down at you, the corners of his mouth lifting in quiet affection.

“Goodnight.” He whispered, brushing a gentle kiss onto your head. And with that, Spencer allowed himself to drift off…

Aww are they friends ?

WORSE.

Hope you guys enjoyed reading this!! Thank you all to everyone who comments and repost! Greatly appreciated!

Check out my other writings here<3

~ Tag list ~

@alastorssimp @sleepysongbirdsings @khxna

[lesservillain]

viii. like real people do

summary: things are finally said that change the tides of yours and eddie's relationship cw: SMUT, p in v (unprotected), a tiny bit of angst a/n: hopefully this makes up for the stress i put yall through last chapter! enjoy :)

“Well, what a surprise.” A voice as sweet as syrup says to you. It pulls you out of whatever blackness you were in. A shining light floats above you, beckoning for you to swim towards it. “I wasn’t expecting you for a very long time.”

“But I’m here now,” you say in your own mind, unable to speak.

“I see that,” the voice says, cooing you. “But you shouldn’t be. Not yet at least.”

“Why not?” You ask, continuing to swim.

“Because you still have so much to do! Can’t give up now.”

“But…I miss you so much,” you feel yourself tear up.

“I miss you, too,” the voice says softly. “But there are people counting on you to keep going. You don’t want to let them down, do you?” 

The encouraging words give you a new determination. You swim closer and closer, until you can almost feel the warmth on your face again. The surface is just ahead, if you could just keep going a little more…

The light suddenly becomes so bright, so encompassing that you can barely see. You break the surface, taking a deep breath in and begin coughing. It takes you a moment to get your barrings, but you soon realize you’re no longer in the water. The blinding lights start to shift, your vision slowly returning to you the more you try and focus your eyes. 

You look around you, your mind processing what it’s seeing. You’re in a room, all white and sterile looking. Were you in a hospital room? That seems to be the answer as your hearing starts to come back, filling with a low beeping sound from next to you first, then the sound of muffled voices. Your head suddenly shoots with pain, and you bring your hand to your forehead to try and relieve some of the pressure. But the pain is coming from the back of your head, and you notice that there is something on your forehead that normally isn’t there. Bandages? You try and move, but find yourself limited by something around your neck.

“Hello?” You croak out, but it’s barely above a wheeze. Your throat is hoarse, burning with soreness. Then the soreness spreads, reaching your fingertips and toes. It felt like you’d been hit by a bus and ran over again. “Hello!” You call out a louder this time, voice squeaking at the volume you were trying to achieve. The voices suddenly stop and are replaced with a metallic clanging as the curtain to your room is pulled open.

“Oh my god!” Tonya comes running into the room with Charles hot on her heels, throwing herself on to you in a tight embrace. She squeezes you tightly as if you were going to float away if she let go of you. “You’re awake,” she says, and you can hear the tears in her voice next to your ear.

“Yeah, I am,” you say, voice coming in and out with each word. “Am I at the hospital?”

Tonya leans back, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Yes, and they’re taking really good care of you. I told them you were in school to be a nurse to try and scare them a little.”

You let you a soft chuckle, looking up at her. “How did you know I was here?”

“I’m your emergency contact, duh,” she says with a smile.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you say, thinking about how surprised she must have been to get a call that you were in the hospital when you were supposed to be taking care of Eddie.

“Wait, where’s Eddie?” You say, trying to sit up, but the pain in your body prevented you from moving much.

“Don’t worry about him,” Tonya says, her tone shifting to a serious one. You didn’t like that answer.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s perfectly fine.” Her hands come to your face, thumbs rubbing against your cheeks. “I want you to focus on you right now. You really got banged up in the fall. I was so worried when they told me what happened.”

“What happened?” You ask, unsure of what she’s talking about.

“You don’t remember?” She says, her brows coming together with concern.

“I just remember Eddie said he was going outside to smoke, and then nothing. It’s all black.”

“Honey…” Tonya says, her tone laced with concern. “You…fell. Off of a cliff and into the water. They had to send a rescue team to find you.”

Her words didn’t make sense to you. How would you have fallen when you were inside with Eddie?

“How did I fall off a cliff? I don’t understand.”

“Sweetie, you hit your head really hard. Maybe you should focus on getting some rest.”

“N-no, tell me what happened,” you stutter out, feeling a wave of anxiety start to hit you. You will yourself to remember what happened, but come up blank. “I want to see Eddie. Where is he?” Tonya says your name to try and calm you but her reluctance only makes you feel more uneasy. Even with all the pain in your body, you push yourself up from the bed and try to throw the covers off of you. Tonya pleads for you to stop as the sound of an alarm starts to go off in your room.

“What’s going on?” A nurse says as she enters the room.

“She wont settle down,” Tonya says pushing against you to get you back in the bed.

“Just let me call him!” You shout, trying to look around the room with your limited mobility.

“I’m right here.”

You pause, eyes darting to behind the nurse. You see Eddie there in his chair, a pained expression on his face. You immediately feel relieved, leaning back in the bed with a sigh.

“Eddie--”

“I told you to leave!” Tonya yells at him, catching you off guard.

“I know,” Eddie says solemnly, hanging his head.

“Why would you tell him to leave?!” You ask, anger bubbling up inside of you at her knowing he had been here.

“Because he’s the reason why you’re even in here! He doesn’t deserve to see you!” Tonya shouts, gesturing wildly at Eddie.

“Everyone, I’m going to have to ask you all to please calm down or else you’re all going to have to leave,” the nurse says trying to diffuse the situation.

“I want everybody out. Except for Eddie.” He raises his head to look at you, sadness in his features.

“You can’t be serious,” Tonya says with frustration.

“I need to hear about what happened from him. Please.”

Tonya whines, but eventually relents. She starts to leave, stopping next to Eddie and pointing a finger at him. “You have 10 minutes. And you better tell her the truth.” Eddie nods his head and Tonya straightens up, leaving the room with Charles following behind her.

“You have a call button beside you if you need me,” the nurse says before leaving the room too, only you and Eddie remaining. It’s back to being quiet again, and you take the time to just look at him. He seemed so broken as he hung his head in shame.

“Eddie,” you say, and he flinches. “Please, just tell me what happened.”

His frown contorts even more, his brown eyes going glossy as he stares down at the floor. He shakes his head before bringing a hand to his forehead. “I-I can’t.” He stutters out, breath hitching as he barely contains a sob.

“Yes you can,” you plead, wishing you could just get out of this bed and shake him. “I need to know what happened.”

“I just…My head was all messed up…and I didn’t know what to do, so I thought it would just be better if--if I just wasn’t around and--”

“Eddie what are you saying?”

“Tonya was right.” His voice is wobbly as he speaks. “You’re here because--because I tried to do something stupid and you stopped me.”

You didn’t understand. You tried to will your memory back, to piece together what he was saying to make sense of it. “Eddie, what did you do?” You beg him for an answer. He sways in his chair, getting more upset.

“I-I-I…I tried to…to jump off the cliff.”

“W-what?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“I just, I couldn’t do it anymore.” His tears fall freely now, he doesn’t even bother to try and wipe them as they roll down his cheeks. “I thought it would just be better if I wasn’t around. You and Wayne wouldn’t have to take care of me anymore. And the voices, the nightmares would end.” He brings his hands to the side of his head and leans forward, rocking in his chair.

“Eddie…that is…that is so not fair.” Your breath hitches as you start to cry yourself. “You are not a burden Eddie. I love you so much, I can’t…I can’t even imagine my life without you in it now. Why would you do that to me? To Wayne?”

“Because I let him get in my head!” He shouts, startling you. “I let that bastard get in my head and make me feel like this! I’ve seen things in my nightmares that scared me and I just couldn’t let it happen! I couldn’t let him get to you!”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could have been helping you this whole time, but you’ve just been pushing me away again!”

“I can’t tell you the things I’ve seen…” he says shaking his head. His leg bounces nervously. “I don’t want you to know about the images he’s been putting in my head. But every time I look at you I see what he shows me. It makes me sick to my stomach.”

You’re speechless. Eddie’s been dealing with these nightmares this whole time and you had no idea. Your heart breaks knowing that he’s been dealing with this pain with no one by his side for weeks. It’s not fair.

“Come here,” you say, and he finally looks up at you, eyes wide as saucers. He hesitates, but eventually he rolls himself to the side of your bed.

“Are you going to hit me?”

You shake your head with a small laugh. “Do you think I should?” You ask him, and you see a smile tug at his lips. 

“I think I deserve it.”

“Eddie, you don’t deserve any more hurt. You’ve been through enough as is it. But…I do think there is something that you need.”

“What’s that?” He asks, tilting his head.

“Therapy.” His face drops, eyes leaving you and going back to the floor. “Hear me out,” you say, trying to reign him back in. You lean down the best you can and grab his hand, taking it in yours and holding it tight. “I think you need to be able to talk to someone, professionally, about what you’ve been through. I know you want to be strong, but if anything what you’ve told me is that you’re finally at your limit.”

“I’ve been offered a therapist before…by the government. Can’t exactly talk about what happened to a random one,” Eddie says with a shrug.

“Then go see a government therapist,” you say, giving his hand a light squeeze. “They’re still a therapist. You need it.”

“Will you go with me?” He asks after a beat.

“Of course I will,” you say, elated that he’s considering it. You bring his hand up to your lips and kiss his knuckles, pressing against the scar that lives there.

“I’m so sorry,” Eddie says barely above a whisper. 

“I forgive you,” you say back. Eddie raises his head to look at you. “But…”

“But?” Eddie says, his brows pinching together nervously.

“But, I still need to hear the rest of the story.” Eddie looks at you with confusion and you gesture to yourself in the bed. “I obviously didn’t get here because you almost went over a cliff. So what happened?”

Eddie swallows, his eyes darting around the room anxiously. “Well,” he starts, “When I was about to go over, you sort of pulled me back. But…but you kept going. I watched you go over the edge and hit the water…” Well that explains a lot. “I freaked out. I thought about going in after you but this damn leg.” Eddie runs his hand over his thigh, letting it rest where it ends. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to get you, so I rolled my ass back to the house and called Hopper. He called the station and they got a bunch of people out to look for you. They found you washed up on some rocks by someone’s dock and pulled you out. They said it was a miracle that you were still breathing.”

You thought back to the voice you had heard before you came to, telling you that it wasn’t your time yet. It sounded so familiar, yet your mind couldn’t place whose it was. But you know it’s the reason you’re still alive after what you went through.

“I’m tougher than I look. Venca is going to have a hard time trying to get me,” you say, making Eddie smile. He rubs his thumb against the back of your hand soothingly, making you feel more relaxed at the motion.

“Did you really mean what you said?” He suddenly asks. Now it was your turn to be confused.

“Did I mean what?” You ask.

“That you love me.”

You feel coming to your cheeks at his question. Did you actually say that? It must have been in the heat of the moment, not like you to say that without caution.

“Maybe I do,” you say bashfully. “I’ve taken care of you for a while now, it’s hard not to love you.”

“Oh…” You see the way Eddie curls in on himself, almost embarrassed.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, tugging at his hand.

“I thought you meant you loved me like…” he trails off, but you get what he’s saying.

“Like, more than I should?”

“How much are you supposed to love me?”

“Probably less than I currently do. More on a professional level. Unfortunately, that’s flown out the window because I think I’m closer to head over heels now.”

Eddie straightens up in his chair and you’re almost blinded by how bright he’s beaming. Every bit of doubt you were feeling melted away with the heat of the sun shining through him. 

“Would it be weird to say I love you too?” He asks unsurely.

“Eddie, I just admitted my feelings for you. I’ll be pissed if you don’t say it back,” you joke, making Eddie laugh. 

He lets go of your hand before grabbing onto the side rail of the bed and pressing his other hand into the mattress. In one quick motion, he lifts himself from his chair and pivots until he’s sitting on the side of your bed. You try and move over to make more room for him, but he puts his hands on your shoulders to still you. You turn to look at him, his eyes on you intently as he starts to lean in. You let yours flutter close and wait, a giddy feeling swelling in your chest at the anticipation.

His lips meet yours and there’s an immediate relief that washes over your whole body. You sigh into him, pressing your lips against his in return. It’s nothing more than just a kiss, but you still feel it’s effects pulsing through your body.

“Oh, come on!” 

Eddie practically jumps ten feet in the air when Tonya’s voice erupts in the room. It makes you laugh to see him get so flustered so quickly, moving around unsure of himself like a bad kid being caught.

“What’re they doin?” You hear another voice and immediately recognize it. Wayne steps in the room beside Tonya and you suddenly feel sick. You’d forgotten about Wayne and what he would think about you and Eddie.

“N-nothing!” You stutter out, trying to come up with anything else to say but coming up short.

“They were kissing!” Tonya says, gesturing at the two of you.

This was it, Wayne was going to kill you.

“It was just a hug!” Eddie says, trying to cover for the two of you.

“Bullshit!” Tonya says, and you realize you’re totally fucked.

“Well, ‘bout damn time,” Wayne says with a laugh.

What?

You couldn’t believe your ears. Was Wayne…happy?

“Don’t encourage them! This is not okay!”

“Babe,” Charles says, putting a hand on Tonya’s shoulder. Tonya turns and looks at him, the two of them looking into each other’s eyes. After a minute, Tonya sighs.

“You’re right. If you two can look past everything, I guess I can, too.”

Eddie turns to look at you, confusion written all over his face. “What just happened?”

“Something good, I guess,” you say with a short shrug, wincing at the pain it gives you. Eddie looks at you with concern, his hand coming to rest on your cheek. You give him a small smile, leaning into his touch.

You spent a few days in the hospital, mostly to keep an eye on your concussion. Your injuries consisted of a nasty skull fracture that you likely got from hitting your head on a rock when you landed in the water and a lot of bruising to your body. The doctors said it was amazing you hadn’t broken anything else in the fall, something you were thankful for. As long as you took it easy, you’d start feeling better in no time. 

But taking things easy was harder than you thought it would be.

“You probably shouldn’t even be driving in your condition,” Eddie says, arms crossed as you set your bag down on the couch.

“Eddie, I’m fine,” you argue, hands on your hips. “It’s not like you can’t do a lot on your own now. I’m only here if you need assistance.”

“You sure ya don’t want me to call Rick to come stay with ‘em?” Wayne asks.

“I’m already here, might as well stay,” you say, hoping that will be the end of it.

“Fine, but you’re not lifting a finger while you’re here,” Eddie says with a huff. It makes you smile and frustrated at the same time that he’s so concerned about you.

“What, are you going to take care of me while I’m here?” You tease, but Eddie only nods in response. 

“Yep. It’s my fault you were even hurt to begin with, so it’s only fair I get to take care of you for once.” You bring your hand to your chin and ponder at the thought of Eddie taking care of all the laundry and cooking you dinner. The thought made you laugh, but Eddie wasn’t having it. “What’s so funny?”

“Just thinking about you taking care of me. I can’t wait to see it.” Eddie’s arms relax as he smiles now too, clearly happy to see that you’ve given in to his demands. “So what’s first on the agenda tonight, boss?” You ask him.

“First, you’re going to sit on the couch and prop your feet up,” he says rolling over to you, nudging you towards the couch. “And you’re going to focus on your school work while I…I…”

“Should I order a pizza?” Wayne asks, walking into the kitchen to pick up the phone.

“Pizza sounds awesome,” you say, looking at Eddie. He’s smiles at you sheepishly before mouthing a sorry to you. You pat the cushion next to you on the couch, inviting him to join you. He rolls over, locking his wheels and lifting himself up to move to the couch. You go to grab his waist to help him, but he gives you a “nuh uh” before maneuvering himself over on his own. You look at him impressed, and he gives you a proud look back.

“You’ve been practicing,” you say, nudging him with your elbow.

“Yep,” he says, raising his arms and flexing. “Gotta be strong for ya.”

Eddie’s words make you melt. It was so good to have him back after the way he shut himself out for so long.

“Alright, I’ll be right back,” Wayne says, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door. “You two behave yourselves.” He adds before closing the front door behind him. It made heat rise to your cheeks at the implication. 

You and Eddie hadn’t really discussed things between you since you kissed at the hospital, and you wondered if he still had some lingering guilt about what happened that was keeping him from speaking up.

However, you weren’t going to wait around for him anymore. You were planning on getting answers out of him whether he likes it or not.

“So, Eddie,” you say, turning your whole body to face him. Eddie looks at you with a side eye, not liking the suspicious way you’re looking at him right now.

“Y-yes?”

“Why are you so nervous?” You laugh.

“I’m not nervous,” he says, clearly nervous.

“You think I’m going to bite you or something?” You wiggle your fingers at him teasingly.

“Maybe…maybe I like biting,” he says, coming out more coy than he intended it to. 

“Oh, do you?” You lean into him, stopping just short of an inch from his face. Eddie flinches slightly, eyes screwing shut. You decide to mess with him a bit, not moving from your spot until he opens an eye to peek. That’s when you strike, pecking him on the lips and catching him by surprise. He hums in shock, letting out a giggle when you pull away from him. “I don’t know how I’m every going to get used to that,” he says with a toothy grin.

“Well you better get used to it, because you’re not getting rid of me any time soon.”

Eddie leans in and captures your lips again in a giggly kiss. “I can’t believe I almost gave this up.” He doesn’t sound sad when he says them, but the words are still tainted with a hurt that lingers. It was something you’d been thinking about a lot. That Eddie could not be here with you right now if you hadn’t gotten to him in time. If you hadn’t pulled him back from the edge…

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” he says, interrupting your train of thought. 

“No, it’s okay.” You shake your head and give him a small smile. Raising your hand to his cheek, you caress his scared face tenderly, taking him in. He was still here, and that’s what mattered. “I wish you knew how much you mean to me.”

Eddie leans into your hand and closes his eyes. “One day I will. It’s just…hard to accept right now.”

“But why?” You ask, wishing you could wipe the frown from his face. He pulls away from your touch and leans back into the couch, gesturing widely to himself.

“I’m not the most desirable guy in the world. I got one leg,” he rubs his hand over the nub of his thigh, “I’m covered in scars, I’ve been seen as a freak pretty much my whole life. And you,” he raises a hand to you, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met in my life. I don’t know what I did to deserve even the slightest bit of your attention, let alone your love. It just…doesn’t make sense.”

You place your hand on top of the one on his leg and rub your thumb against his knuckles. It pained you to hear Eddie talk about himself so lowly. You wish there was something you could do to make him realize how worthy of love he was.

Well, there was something you could do. It might not prove much to him, but it could be a start.

Slowly sliding yourself to your knees, you moved yourself until you were on the floor between Eddie’s leg and thigh. He looked down at you with wide eyes. “What are you doing?” He asks, shifting until his back is flush with the couch, almost cowering from you. You place a hand on either thigh and slowly glide them up and down, letting your fingers get dangerously close to Eddie’s crotch with each passing motion.

“I just want you to know how much I care about you,” you say, leaning forward and letting your head rest on his lap. “Is that okay?” You give him an opening to back out, not wanting to push him into anything he doesn’t want to do. This is all still new to you both, and even if you’ve been with each other before, Eddie may want to take things slow. 

Eddie audibly gulps, his eyes locked on yours as you wait for his answer. But he doesn’t give you one. It’s like he’s frozen in place, making you worry. You lift yourself off of him, sitting yourself back on your legs and put your hands up in defense.

“Eddie, I’m sorry I just--”

“No! No, wait--” Eddie leans forward and grabs your hands in his. He shakes his head before giving you a smile that made all the worry melt away. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that. My brain sort of short circuited for a second.”

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Eddie. I just thought…”

Eddie drops your hands and brings his own to your cheeks. He leans in, bringing his lips to yours in a deep kiss. It’s slow, but makes you burn for him, so you try to up the ante a bit by bringing your tongue to his lower lip. That gets him to open up for you and soon your tongues are dancing between you. Eddie’s still not the greatest kisser, still too eager and using too much tongue. But, with time, you’ll teach him how to properly kiss you.

You push against him with your mouth so that he would start to ease back against the couch, letting your hands find his legs again. This time, you let your hands meet at his crotch, one of them resting right over where you can feel him getting hard in his sweats. Eddie lets out a groan against your lips at the feeling of you touching him that pokes at the fire inside of you. You let your hand wrap around his still clothed length and give a slight squeeze, making Eddie jump against you.

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie says, leaning back to look at you with lidded eyes. You bring a hand up to his chest and push him back, his body going lax as he hits the back of the couch. Your hand rubs him through his pants a bit, giving him a bit of a tease before the main attraction. 

Finally, you let your hand wander up to his waistband, fingers dipping into it as you start to pull it down. You discover very quickly that he’s not wearing any boxers beneath them as his cock springs to life from the confines of the cotton pants. It’s hard and red and twitching under your gaze, and you can’t help but water at the mouth for it.

Taking a hand to it, you slowly start to work it, moving up and down against the velvety skin of his shaft. You make sure to pay extra attention to the tip, putting pressure on it when your hand rolls over it. Eddie’s hands grip the cushions of the couch as you work him in your soft hands, letting out little sounds here and there the more you move.

“Mmmph, that feels so good,” He whimpers out, voice strained.

“This isn’t even the best part,” you tease, looking up at him through your lashes.

“I can’t imagine it getting better,” Eddie says, eyes closing as his breath starts to pick up.. And, boy, are you ready to blow his mind. 

You take your hand off of him, making Eddie’s eyes open slightly to look down at you. He watches in awe as you spread his thighs apart and scooch in between them, his heart almost skipping a beat as you lean in until your barely an inch from his cock. Opening your mouth, you keep your eyes on him as you take the tip inside. Eddie lets out a hiss at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his cock, hand shooting to the top of your head and gripping at your crown. 

He doesn’t force you, more so just holding you to keep himself grounded as you begin to move your mouth on him. You go slow for the first few bobs, letting yourself get adjusted to his size so you don’t gag yourself too hard. But once you’ve gotten yourself opened up you start to go to town. His tip hits the back of your throat each time you go down, but you take it like a champ, not backing down with how Eddie starts to make so much noise.

He’s so happy Wayne isn’t home right now. He doesn’t think he’d be able to keep his voice down if he tried. You were trying to suck his soul through his dick and it was working with how light he was starting to feel. His mind flashed back to the night the two of you spent together and how you looked riding on top of him. Even in his depressive state, he still couldn’t help but think back to that night over and over. It was the best night of his life, and he wanted so badly to relive it again, much like you were doing for him now. 

But, even with how well you were moving on his cock, Eddie was being selfish and wanted more. He wanted to feel you again like he had that night, and with the rate that you were going, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. So he did some quick work, getting a better grip on your head and pushing it back. And boy was that a mistake, because you popped off him with the most fucked out expression on your face Eddie’s ever seen.

“Why’d you stop--” But Eddie doesn’t let you finish, slamming his lips against yours again, shoving his tongue into your mouth. He tastes himself on you and moans into you, eliciting a groan from you in return.

Eddie pulls away quickly, leaving you to chase after him. But he has other things planned as he grabs your arms and pulls you up into his lap.

“Mmm, what’re you doing?” You ask as you straddle his thighs, resting your hands on his shoulders.

“Want you,” he says, looking up at you. “Need you.”

“Oh, is that so?”

 You let your hands fall from his shoulders, slipping them down his chest. Backing up until you stand in front of him, you give him a little smirk as you go for the button of your jeans and undo it. He watches in anticipation as you bend over, pushing your pants down to your ankles and kicking them off of you, leaving you in your panties. You grab the hem of your sweater and pull it off as well, letting it drop to the floor next to you. Eddie’s eyes are as wide as saucers as he takes you in. You weren’t really expecting this, so you didn’t dress in a nice set or anything, but Eddie seemed to be the last one to care.

You decide to tease him more, turning around so your back was facing him as you undid your bra. You let it fall unceremoniously onto the ground before giving a little look over your shoulder. Eddie’s eyes were lazier focused on you, barely blinking so not to miss a single moment of the show you were putting on for him. 

That’s when you decided to up the ante. You let your thumbs slip into the sides of your panties and begin to slide them down off of you. Bending over, you make sure they get all the way to the ground before stopping for a moment. You wiggle your ass a bit for good measure and you know it’s affecting him by the sounds you hear coming from him. 

You snap to straighten up and step out of your panties, leaving them on the floor where you dropped them before turning to face Eddie. You find that he’s lazily stroking himself, eyes still glued to your body as you stand before him. “Holy shit,” Eddie says, mouth slacked open like he’s in a trance, hypnotized by you. 

You step forward and climb back into Eddie’s lap, letting your tits sit at eye level for him. He leans his head back in awe to get a good look at them, eyes darting back and forth like he can’t decide where to let his gaze land. You giggle at his goofiness and let your arms wrap around his shoulders, the proximity of your chest to his face increasing. Eddie feels like he doesn’t know what to do with you so close to him, so he just lets his face fall in between your plush breasts. You can’t keep back the laugh that erupts from you at his antics.

”Enjoying yourself?” You ask, bringing a hand to the back of his head. Eddie nods against your chest, which only makes you laugh more. “Well, while you distract yourself with that…” you say as you lower your bottom half against him until you can feel his length between you. You let your weight push down until your slit is pressing against his cock and begin to rock your hips forward and back on it. Eddie starts to groan into your chest, his hips bucking slightly into you. The pressure of his cock against your clit makes your breath hitch, only making you feel needier for him as you continue to move. 

Suddenly, Eddie is pulling away from your chest, his hands finding purchase on your hips to stop you from moving. You look down at him curiously, unsure as to why he made you stop.

”Can I try something?” He seems bashful with how he’s refusing to look up at you. But his question has your interest piqued. Eddie is still new to all of this, so you can only imagine what he may be wanting to do.

”Please,” you say, giving him the go ahead.

Eddie’s right hand loosens its grip from your hip and slowly starts to move between you. You watch as he slips his hand under you, touching your core with his fingertips. His hand explores you, feeling around at your underparts until a finger catches your entrance.

”Is that it?” He asks, looking up to you with wide eyes. You giggle at his innocence and nod. He swallows thickly before looking back down where his hand was. You feel his hand moving, and then his finger slips inside of you, the coolness of his rings stinging your skin. You let a little moan slip from your lips at the intrusion, and Eddie’s eyes are on you again. He watches you intently as he begins to move his finger in and out of you, keeping an eye on your face to gauge your reaction to his movements.

 It honestly wasn’t doing much for you, but you found it too cute that he wanted to do this with you that you just let him do his own thing at first. But the way his brows pinched together had you thinking that he was catching on so you decided to intervene.

“Eddie.” You say his name gently and he stops his movements all together to focus on you. “Go like this.” You raise your hand up and put your fingers up so that your middle and pointer were together, curling them together to show him what to do.

”O-okay,” he says with a nod. He looks down again, and you can feel another finger making its way into you. It already feels better just from the fullness of two fingers inside you, and you hum when he starts to move them inside you. 

Pushing your hips down, Eddie’s fingers dip into you further and you start to feel him moving against that spot deep inside you. “Shit, yeah, right there,” you say, letting your head fall back as you feel the little shock waves through your body. You let your hands roam up your sides until they reached your breasts, taking them in your hands and fondling yourself in tandem with Eddie’s movements. It all felt so good, but there was still one thing missing that you needed to resolve.

”You’re good with your hands right?” You say, looking down at Eddie with a smirk.

”Uh, yeah, I play guitar,” he says, unsure of what you’re getting at. You reach a hand down between your legs and grab his thumb, positioning the rough pad of it on your aching clit.

”Move it back and forth.”

Eddie follows your command, pausing his fingers to try and get a good rhythm with his thumb. It sent a heat all through you, but you couldn’t help but feel bad watching the way his face contorts as he moves his hands around, unsure if it was hurting him to move his hands like this.

”Eddie, as good as this feels, you don’t have to do this,” you say, tilting his head up with your finger.

”I know, but I want to. Wanna make you cum first,” he says, eyes moving all over your face like he can’t decide where to look.

”You’re so sweet, but this is supposed to be about you, remember? I’m doing this to make you feel good.”

”Can I try a little more. I’ll get the hang of it, I promise.” How could you say no to someone so eager to give you pleasure. Especially when they look so cute doing it. You give him a nod and he smiles at you, his tongue poking out from between his lips as he gets back into the groove.

He wastes no time getting down to business, moving his fingers in tandem with his thumb in a way that takes you by surprise with how good it feels. Your mouth drops open, and you have to grab his shoulders to keep you steady as he fucks his fingers into you. “Oh my god,” you say as he starts to move faster, getting a good pace going. You say his name breathily and he lets out a low chuckle.

”That feel good, baby?” He looks up at you and the cocky expression on his face had you shook. “Like it when I work you up like this?” 

Where was all this confidence coming from you had no idea, but you were loving it. “Y-yes,” you stutter out, followed by a low moan. 

“You gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over my fingers?” 

“Yes, yes yes!” Eddie’s words get the better of you as you feel that coil in you tightening, threatening to snap at any moment. Eddie’s free hand comes to your face, taking it gently as he guides you to face him. He looks you straight in the eyes and it’s like you’re seeing a whole new side of him that you didn’t know he had in him. 

“Look so pretty like this,” he cooes, and for some reason that does you in. Your vision of him goes blurry as your eyes roll back from how hard you cum. He keeps moving his fingers in you as you go through the motions, and you eventually had to grab his hand and physically pull it away from you from how over sensitive you were getting. 

You sat down in his lap and caught your breath, just looking at the way he was beaming with joy so bright it was almost blinding. Looking over at his hand, you noticed the way his fingers were twitching and grabbed it, not caring about your wetness being all over it. You spread his hand open and began to massage it gently, hoping to take some of the pain away.

”Thanks,” he says, looking at your hand moving his. Then he lets out a little giggle that had you looking at him crazy.

”What’s so funny?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.

”I made you cum,” he says with a cheesy smile.

”That you did,” you say with a chuckle. You let your hands drop between you, and you almost forgot about his hard cock until you felt it hit your hand. 

“Guess it’s your turn now,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes. His smile drops at the tone of your voice, eyes going wide as he watches you lift yourself up in his lap and hover over him. You grab him with your hand and line him up with your entrance, keeping an eye on his reactions as you slowly start to lower yourself down onto him. Eddie takes his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes screwing shut until you’ve gotten yourself fully seated in his lap. It feels so good to have him so deep, but you’re not letting yourself lose control so easy now that you’re back in it.

With a roll of your hips, Eddie lets out a gasp that was music to your ears. It was enough to keep you going, setting a steady rhythm as you moved your body against his. But as good as it felt for you to grind yourself against him, you decided that you needed to give him more. 

You positioned yourself so that you were steady on your knees and began to bounce on him. Eddie let out a few curse words as you started to move, making you laugh to yourself at his reaction. You moved yourself up and down on him, feeling the way he moved in and out of you so deliciously. That combined with his fat tip hitting that sweet spot over and over again had you already winding up for another orgasm. 

You leaned forward, pushing yourself into Eddie to let your bodies get close as you continued your movements on him. Your lips met his in a feverish kiss and you can tell by the way he’s having a hard time keeping up with you that he was definitely affected by everything you’re doing to him. But you don’t stop, wanting to get him as worked up as possible under you. 

He lets out little whimpers against your lips before pulling his head back from yours. “Fuck, feels so good,” he says, breathing labored as you continue to fuck him. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” he chants, and you wouldn’t dream of it. 

You pull away from him, leaning back with your hands on his thighs as you keep moving on him. Eddie’s eyes are locked between you, watching the way he disappears in and out of your tight cunt. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge again, so close to cumming once again that you have to bring your hand to your clit to give yourself that last little push. But Eddie doesn’t let you do it for long, pushing your hand out of the way so he can replace your fingers with his. He mimics your motions and it has your moaning out into the open air of the living room.

“Fuck, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie!” You can’t hold back your voice as you feel yourself going over the edge, immediately stilling your hips as you reach your peak. You gasp out, throwing yourself forward and wrapping yourself around Eddie’s neck, burying your face in his shoulder as your whole body shakes in pleasure.

”Shit, fuck—“ Eddie grunts out, his hands gripping your hips as he suddenly goes rigid under you. Through your haze you can feel him cum inside of you, cock twitching as he does. You should probably be concerned with what’s happening, but you’re too boneless to care, letting Eddie fill you up until he had nothing left to give.

The two of you were still for a moment, just soaking in each other’s presence in your embrace. Eddie’s breathing was still a bit labored, his chest pressing into yours with each breath he took. You took a little bit of his hair in your finger and twisted it around it, examining the dead ends and thinking about how long it was getting.

”I need to cut your hair soon,” you say, breaking the silence between you. Eddie hums, turning his head to look down at his hair.

”You think so? I was trying to let it grow out some more.”

You nod against his shoulder, letting the hair drop from your hand. “Just the ends. It’ll grow longer faster if you keep the ends healthy.”

”You shoulda been a hair dresser,” Eddie says, smiling at you.

”I only know this stuff because of Tonya. I don’t think I could do what she does,” you say, shaking your head.

”But you can do nursing? Doesn’t that seem like a harder job?”

You push yourself off of Eddie so you can look down at him. You take a moment to admire him and the way he looks up at you with a light in his eyes that makes your tummy do flips. You realize in this moment that you’re…happy. Like, truly happy. It felt like all the pieces were starting to fall into place, and that this was what was supposed to happen for you all along. All the hardships you’ve had in your life lead you to this very moment, and you couldn’t be happier.

”What?” Eddie asks with a soft giggle, grinning at you.

”Nothing,” you say, taking your hands and cupping his face. You lean in and leave a kiss on his lips, eliciting a giggle from him. 

Suddenly, you hear the sound of Wayne’s truck pulling up in the driveway, his tires crunching loud against the gravel. You look down at Eddie, and his wide eyed expression matches yours. Jumping up, you pull yourself from Eddie with a hiss and get back on your feet. Your legs still feel wobbly from all the exertion, but you do your best to steady yourself, grabbing all your clothes from off of the floor and booking it straight to the bathroom. You feel bad for leaving Eddie behind, but trusted he could situate himself without your help.

You hear the front door open just as you close the bathroom door shut. You try and listen through the door, pressing your ear to the wood to try and hear better. Wayne says something to Eddie but his voice is too muffled to make out he’s saying. It doesn’t sound like a yell so you figured you were in the clear, letting out a sigh of relief.

That left you to tend to your current situation. You could feel the mess between your legs starting to drip down your thighs and silently wished that you could take a shower. But you worried about it being too suspicious to take one now, so you’d just have to do your best to clean yourself up. At least you’d have an excuse to take a shower with Eddie later.

Once you were straightened up and fully clothed, you rejoined the Munson men in the kitchen.

”There she is,” Wayne says, lifting the lid to the pizza box open for you to take a slice. You grabbed one and shoved some in your mouth, humming in satisfaction.

”That was fast,” you say, looking at Wayne. 

“They weren’t busy. Plus, they fixed up some’ve the roads in town so it was easier to get to get in and outta there.”

“That’s good,” you nod, “You can sit and enjoy it before work.”

”Yep,” Wayne says, finishing the last of his slice before grabbing another one. “So, what’d y’all do while I was gone?” Eddie chokes on his drink as he sips it, starting a coughing fit that had you patting his back to try and help him. Wayne looks at him with a quirked brow. “You good, boy?” 

“Y-yeah,” he coughs a little more, beating his fist against his chest. “Sorry, went down the wrong pipe.”

”We just, um, we talked while you were gone. Nothing crazy,” you say, hoping that you saved the situation with your lie.

”Well that’s good,” Wayne says, taking a bite of his pizza. You were relieved that he believed you, hoping that would be the end of the conversation. 

The three of you continued to eat your pizza until you were stuffed, putting the left overs in Wayne’s lunch for the night while he was getting ready for work. Eddie got himself situated on the couch, flipping through the channels to find something to watch as you got out some of your schoolwork to work on. He settled on watching Terminator and you cracked open your textbook and got to working on homework. 

“Y’all have a good night,” Wayne says as he grabs his keys, heading out the door for the night. You both give him a goodbye as he goes, the room going quiet once he’s left. It’s not an awkward quiet, though, rather a peaceful one. You didn’t need to be talking to Eddie to enjoy his company, just simply having him there with you was enough.

It stayed like that for a few hours, just the two of you keeping quiet while the other was preoccupied with what they were doing. Eddie got up at one point, returning to the living room with his notebook and a pencil, joining you on the floor as he used the coffee table to write on. You peaked over at the notebook and noticed he was writing something out on one of the pages.

”What are you working on?” You ask curiously.

”Some lyrics to a song,” he says, tapping the pencil on the page.

”Are you guys going to start writing music again?”

”I don’t know about that,” he says, rolling his head to the side. “But, this feels like a good way to get some of my emotions out. I guess it’s more like writing poetry since I don’t have any music to go with it.”

”When was the last time you played your guitar?”

Eddie was still where he sat, gaze set on the papers in front of him. With the shift in mood you felt like maybe you asked the wrong question. You know it’s been a while, the guitar case sitting in his closet collecting dust since you’ve started coming to take care of him. His hands were getting better, though, so you don’t see why he couldn’t try and pick it back up again.

”Do you know…it’s been a year already?” He says lowly, lip quivering as he speaks.

”Since you played?” Eddie only nods, and you can tell there’s something else bothering him. You reach out and put a hand on his arm, rubbing it up and down. “Eddie, what’s wrong?” He glances down at your hand and lets out a sniffle.

”It’s been a whole year since…since everything. Since Chrissy. Since they thought I killed her and I went on the run. Since I went into that damn place and—” Tears are running down his cheeks as he goes on, and you just let him get it out. You knew that it was March last year when everything went down, but you didn’t think it was today. 

You shift where you sit, moving your body so you can wrap Eddie in a tight embrace. He starts sobbing then, the tears soaking your shoulder as he presses his face into you. You give him soft shushes and tell him he’s okay hoping that it would help him calm down a bit.

You’re not sure how long you held him for, but you didn’t let go until he quieted down. Pulling back, you watched as he wipes his tears away with his shirt, still sniffling as he tries to steady his breathing. “Eddie,” you say softly, not wanting to startle him. He glances up at you, eyes still glassy and now rimmed red from all the crying. 

“I know that nothing I say will make it better, but I just want to tell you that I love you and I’m happy you’re here. And I’m always going to be here when it gets bad like this, okay? You don’t have to deal with this alone.”

Eddie sighs, rubbing his hand over his face as he nods. “Yeah,” he croaks out, “I know that now. Thank you.”

You place a hand on either of his cheeks and rub your thumbs soothingly against his skin. He gives you a soft smile and leans into your touch, one of his hands resting on top of yours. 

“Why don’t we go take a shower?” You ask, changing the subject to try and distract him from any lingering thoughts he may be having. 

“Yeah, okay,” he says, sitting up and getting himself situated. He uses the couch to raise himself up onto the cushion, then pulls his chair over and hops in it. Even if you’ve seen him do it before, you were still amazed at how much he was able to do on his own now. You were so proud of him.

You grab your bag and the two of you head back into his room and you get the bathroom ready for the two of you to shower. You grab an extra towel and lay it next to Eddie’s as he works on getting undressed. “Do you want help getting out of your chair?” You ask as you start to undress, putting your clothes in the hamper with his to wash tomorrow.

”Nah, I got it,” he says, using the railing to pull himself up on his leg, body plopping into the plastic shower chair with a creak. He turns to look over at you and his eyes go wide as he takes you in. You laugh at his crazed expression, not sure what all the fuss is about.

”What?”

”You’re showering, too?” He gulps, eyes still locked on your naked body.

”Yeah, I said we were taking a shower. Is that okay?” You didn’t think he would mind, but now you were starting to second guess yourself. Was it too soon to be doing stuff like this together?

”No, it’s fine,” Eddie stutters out, his hands coming to his crotch to cover himself. “I just—“

”Eddie, are you getting hard again?” You ask with a giggle. He looks at you like he’s been caught red handed, a red tint to his cheeks that you can see as you walk over to him.

”Would you be mad if I was? I mean we just did it earlier…”

”Eddie, I’m never going to be mad at you for how your body reacts. I just think it’s cute is all.”

”Okay,” he says, uncovering himself so his hard cock is out in the open. Part of you is telling you to ignore it so he doesn’t get more embarrassed, but the primal part of your brain is telling you to wrap your lips around him and suck his soul out of his body. You decided on the former for now and grabbed the shower head, turning the water on and letting it warm up against your palm.

What you didn’t know was that Eddie was absolutely losing his mind as you stood in front of him. He wanted to reach out and touch you but was afraid of how you might react. He knows you had sex once today, but Eddie felt like he could go again already. Was something wrong with him? He couldn’t help it, he was just so attracted to you that he didn’t know how the hell he was supposed to not get hard again just from looking at you. Not when he had the image of you coming undone on his cock still fresh in his mind.

”Okay, it’s ready,” you say, snapping Eddie out of his thoughts. Eddie’s eyes are fixed on your ass as you reach up to replace the shower head, trying to memorize the way it sways as you move. 

You jump when you feel something touching you from behind. Looking over your shoulder, you see Eddie has his hand on your ass, his gaze fixed on your rear end.

”Like what you see?” You tease, and Eddie immediately retracts his hand and curls it into his body.

”Sorry, I don’t know why I did that.”

”Eddie, I don’t care that you touch me.” You turn around to face him, grabbing his hands and wrapping them around your body until they land on either cheek of your ass. He looks up at you like you’ve shocked him, his body tense below you.

”This is so weird.” It’s not the words Eddie wanted to say, but it’s the words that came out of his mouth. He could kick himself for being so uncool right now.

”You’ll get used to it.” You grab one of the wash clothes that were laid out and ran it under the water before grabbing the soap and lathering it up. You took the cloth and started to rub it on Eddie’s body. He watched as you cleaned him, and somehow this action felt more intimate than the two of you having sex. It wasn’t sexual, but it wasn’t clinical like other times you’ve taken care of him before. It had a feeling of domesticity to it that was new for the both of you. 

Eddie’s hands slid from your ass and landed on your hips, squeezing you gently in his grasp. He closed his eyes as you continued to clean him, making sure to be extra gentle around the scars that adorned his body. You wanted to kiss them, every single one. They were going to be a constant reminder of what he went through for the rest of his life, and you wanted to just take that pain away from him. But you can’t, so you’ll just have to do everything you can to remind him that what he went through doesn’t define him. 

You’ve scrubbed the top half of his body thoroughly by now, so now it was time to move lower. Eddie was still hard, and you didn’t know if you should ignore it or if it was time to acknowledge it. You moved the washcloth down his abdomen until you reached his cock, washing around it first. Eddie let out a small hum when you brought the washcloth to the base of his cock, and you decided that you were just going to go for it. 

You took the washcloth in your hand and wrapped it around his cock. He jerked at the contact, his head tilting back as you moved it up and down his length. “Fuck,” he breathes out, his dead drooping forward to watch you work him. His eyes were heavily lidded, his mouth agape as you moved your hand around him. 

“S’that feel good?” You ask him, not stopping your movements. He nods lazily, his eyes opening and closing the more worked up he gets. Watching him get worked up again was doing something for you, that tingly feeling coming back between your legs. You decided to just give in to the feeling, letting the washrag drop from your hands before jerking him with your bare hands.

”Shit,” he hisses at the feeling of your soft skin on his. You keep pumping him, and he moans when you pick up the pace. His grip on your hips tightens and his hips start to lightly buck into your hand as you continue on. 

All the sudden, his hand leaves your hip and reaches up to grab behind your head. He pulls you closer to him as he leans forward, your lips colliding in immediate passion. All teeth and tongues moving in sync as you devour each other like you were starving for the other’s touch. 

Then you pulled away, leaving him to chase after you. But you weren’t going to wait another second to feel him again. You kicked your leg around his shower chair, hand still on his length to hold him in place as you lowered yourself onto him. Once the tip was in, you did a quick maneuver to bring your other leg around the chair, leaving you to sink down fully on his cock in one swift motion. You gasp out from the feeling of being so full so quickly, and Eddie can’t bite back the groan that is pushed from his lungs.

You give yourself a second to adjust in the seat, doing your best to get leverage so you could move on him. But once you were stable, you grasped his shoulders and started moving in short bounces on his cock. The sounds of wet slapping mixed with yours and Eddie’s moans echoed in the bathroom. 

As you moved on Eddie’s cock, you leaned into him and met his lips once again. Eddie wrapped his arms around you and held you close, your wet chests rubbing together as you rode him with reckless abandon. Even when you felt the water starting to get cold you were almost thankful because of how hot you were feeling as you moved at a steady pace. You only stopped moving up and down to switch to rolling your hips, grinding your clit into his pelvis to get that stimulation you were craving.

”Mmm, fuck, Eddie,” you whine against his lips and he let out a breathy moan of his own.

”Fuck, you feel so good.” His voice is strained as he speaks. You press kisses against the side of his lips, then his cheek, working your way down until you get to his neck. You kiss and bite at his skin there, Eddie seemingly enjoying it by the sounds he’s making. “Holy fuck, fuck!” Eddie yells out when you bite down on the skin under his ear. It was then that Eddie grabbed your hips, stilling your movements as you felt him stiffen under you, hope ropes of cum shooting inside of you as he came. You watched him come undone, his whole face contorting in pleasure as he rode out his high. 

Once he relaxed, his whole body went limp as his hands fell from your hips. You couldn’t help but chuckle at how spent he was, the way his head hung like he’d just exerted all of his energy. You thought he’d enjoyed himself quite a bit until he looked up at you with a concerned look on his face.

“What?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

“Did you cum?” He asks with genuine concern.

“No, but it’s okay,” you reassure him.

“No it’s not,” he says shaking his head. “You’re supposed to cum, too.”

“I’m not going to cum every time, Eddie. That’s just how it is,” you say with a shrug. But Eddie doesn’t like that answer, his hand making it’s way between you and probing around with his thumb.

“Where is it?” He says, his tongue poking out between his lips.

“Eddie!” You laugh, grabbing his wrist and pulling it away.

“C’mon, let me get you off,” he whines, trying to shake your grip from his hand. “I don’t want to be one of those guys who doesn’t get his girls to cum.”

“It’s really okay, Eddie. You made me cum earlier so it’s not like I went without.”

Eddie scoffs, looking like you wounded him with your words. But you ignore his pouting, moving to get off of him as your legs were starting to cramp from the position you were in. The water in the shower was almost ice, so you turned it as hot as it would go to see if you could get enough warm water to rinse yourselves off. 

After a quick wash off, the two of you got out of the shower and dried off to get ready for bed. You blow dried and brushed through Eddie’s hair, getting out all the tangles from the day until you were satisfied with how it looked. You pulled at the ends and tried to gauge how much you’d need to cut off when you eventually cut it, guessing at around an inch or so. Eddie just watched you, enjoying the way you played with his hair. He’s never been happier to have decided to let it grow out his freshman year after buzzing it all off. He’d never cut it again if it meant you’d keep touching him like this.

Soon the two of you made your way to the bed and crawled inside, both of you worn out from all of the activity you’d done today. Eddie pulled you into him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders so you could lay against his shirtless chest, feeling the rise and fall as he breathed. It was quiet as the two of you laid there, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness of his room.

“I love you,” Eddie says softly, barely above a whisper.

“I love you, too, Eds,” you say back, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. You couldn’t see it, but Eddie was cheesing over the fact that you said it back. He really couldn’t believe he was so lucky to have you, and that you actually loved him, despite everything.

“It still feels weird to say.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

thanks for reading!

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

well tumblr cannibalised my previous attempt at further reblogging THANK YOU VERY MUCH (not)

Jon's in a really tough spot in Metropolis. It had all started at school, when everybody (and he meant everybody) started going crazy over this new rocker girl. And yeah, Jon would admit the music was pretty good

and then it started mind-controlling people

oops. The only thing preventing him, Kon and his Dad from getting mind controlled was their standard issue mind protection tech, but that was only half effective, which meant they were fighting their own urges to join the masses of adoring fans just as much as they were fighting the local supervillains put under the spell of Ember. Worse still, local menace and controversial TikTokker Livewire had also joined the band, making the number of celebrities who were secretly supervillains up to two, which isn' a lot but it it's concerning that it's happened twice (and yes I know there are others but jon doesnt lol)

Just when all hope was lost, a tiny kid in silvery armor rocketed up to where Silver Banshee had pummelled him into the floor. Jon's eyes widened, already calculating flight paths to get the kid out of harm's way despite his injuries, when the kid's back exploded with green smoke, sending him for a collision course right for Silver Banshee. Then, at the last second, two rocket thrusters on the back of the kid's foot exploded, sending his leg careening right into Silver Banshee's face, which had turned around at the noise, knocking her out in one kick

"Huh, not a ghost..." The boy muttered. This close, Jon could see that his helmet visor was electronic, currently displaying a big question mark. "I guess the banshee part of her name is just marketing or something. Oh, wait!"

Before Jon could say anything, the kid snapped a headset onto Jon's ears, and suddenly the persistant pressure to join the mindless horde evaporated. The kid's head tilted and he waved his hand in front of Jon's eyes.

"Hello? Phantom to Superboy? Any lingering feelings of wanting to join the mindless horde of rabid fans of the world's lamest rockstar and her girlfriend?"

Jon shook his head. "No... it's all gone. Thank you. But, who are you? And what are you doing here?"

The kid's helmet turned turned to a grinning cartoonish face. "The name's Phantom, designation JF6290 something something numbers numbers I forgot. I'm an android built to fight ghosts, and," the kid (robot?) turned to look at the masses of mind-controlled people shambling through the streets, "it looks like you guys have a ghost problem."

"Ghosts?" Jon repeated dumbly, still reeling from how peaceful his mind felt at this moment after hours of resisting the control.

"Yeah. This is Ember's work. She's a ghost that gets stronger the more people listen to her music. Normally I have her contained, but this time she managed to sneak out from under my nose, so I guess this is my fault. Sorry about that..." the robot boy's face turned into a crying kaomoji, complete with embarassed blushes.

"Hey, it's not your fault. These things happen. What matters is you've beaten her already, right?'

Phantom's face turned bright again. "Yep! I've got all the latest in ghost hunting tech, but I'm not as good at fighting non-ghosts." He shrugged. If Jon hadn't been told, he'd have thought this was a real human (or metahuman) kid in a suit, with all the extremely casual, laidback mannerisms that Red Tornado rarely exhibited

Jon looked at Silver Banshee, who was sporting a nasty bruise and was still unconscious. "Well, I'm sure we can help you out. The name's Superboy, but you already know that. HOw vulnerable are you to electricity?" he asked, because bringing a kid robot to fight Livewire seemed like a recipe for disaster.

"Welll..." Phantom's face tv screen visor-type deal displayed an O.O emoticon. "I have some tools that might help."

spread his arms out and his chest slit open, revealing a truly implausible number of random gadgets, tools and weapons. "I'm sure at least one of these could help?" Phantom asked

"Do you have more of these headset things?"

"Duh, like twenty?"

"Then let's go! We have to help free my family, then we can deal with Ember and Livevwire."

And that was the beginning of a great partnership and friendship. From then on, Phantom would occasionally pop in to help out with ghost issues, or just to hang out. Sometimes he'd appear in metropolis, but soon he started appearing in Central City, Happy Harbour and other villain hotspots, usually chasing a ghost of some kind, but occasionally he and Jon would just hang out. Then, Damian got wind and basically barged in, demanding answers, only to be disarmed by Phantom's absolute fanboying over him

Danny’s ghost form was harder to hold together the farther away he was from the ghost portal. A solution found by Danny & Tucker was to create a robot body that Danny could possess that stabilized his form. The ectoplasm molding itself into the machine and possession causing Danny to become one with the tech, letting him not only use his ghost powers but also unique weaponry and gadgets built into his robot body.

An added bonus is that no one thinks he’s a ghost or even a human.

[kamisobsessed]

Skittles

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x actress!reader

Warnings: Implied age gap (legal though duh), sexual innuendo obviously, Jensen is single in this world

Summary: You're on the cast of Gen V and you're going to be working in a scene with your childhood celebrity crush, Jensen Ackles. The sexual innuendos in the scene make you feel both amused, and something else.

A/N: I finished writing this super fast, not sure if I like it but I am terrible at finishing writing, so I sat down and forced myself to finish this on my lunch break💀. Not edited/proof read.

————————————————————————

Being on the cast of Gen V, hell being on the cast for anything within The Boys universe is a wild time. The shit that gets done and said on these shows; one thing is for sure, better not let your mother catch you watching.

Not only are you on the cast, this is your first big acting job, you're the most inexperienced person here. And the worst best part about today, you'll be working in a scene today with Jensen Ackles, someone you used to, and maybe still do, have a huge celebrity crush on.

When you read the script for the first time, you were not expecting to see that Jensen will have to say such things like "diddle that skittle" or "find that man in the canoe" but there the words were. You make sure to highlight that part, putting a winky face by it. You'll definitely be remembering that and saving this script.

You chuckle to yourself as you walk around on set reading over the script. You got so caught up reading it, your clumsy self walked right into someone, knocking their coffee all over yourself.

"Oh, hey, you okay?" the man says "that wasn't hot was it?"

"No, I'm fine...not hot..." you say wiping yourself off some, and when you gaze up, you're met with none other than Jensen Ackles himself.

"God, I'm sorry, Jensen, I wasn't watching, I can get you a new coffee." You feel your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"No, don't worry about it. Sure that wasn't hot, it was a new cup," he says looking you over to make sure you're not burned.

"No, it's just warm. But it's okay. I'm okay. Are you okay? I didn't mean to run into you I'm so sorry, I was reading the script and then got distracted and-" You begin nervously rambling but he cuts you off,

"All is good, as long as you're not burned from the coffee, it's okay" he smiles reassuringly, his gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he clears his throat,

"Well, you better go change or you might smell like coffee the rest of the day," he says with a lighthearted chuckle.

"Right yeah, I should go do that, um, sorry again..." you say refocusing yourself on the present moment instead of gazing into his eyes any longer.

Damn he has nice eyes. And lips. And hands. And arms. Okay, stop daydreaming, time to go get changed.

You head off to your trailer to change, thankfully not in your costume yet. You glance over the script another time while in your trailer. You read over the lines Jensen has again, this time blushing a little as your mind wanders places it probably shouldn't wander.

No, he's your colleague. Snap out of it. But you'd be damned if you didn't want him to diddle your skittle...oh god. What is wrong with you.

When it's time to film, you and your costars are standing on the set when Jensen enters the scene. You're completely lost in the sight of him in the Soldier Boy costume, and then when he says his lines, you have to avoid melting into a puddle right then and there. Stay in character, focus. Now is not the time.

When Soldier Boy winked, he looked directly at you when he did it, as if he could sense how much you were reacting to this. Your body tenses and you try your best to hide your blush creeping on your cheeks.

After the scene is done following a few takes, you b-line to get some water. After downing a cup or two, you still feel warm inside and you just head to your trailer.

"Calm down, this is so wrong. Just breath, relax" you tell yourself as you pace around the floor.

There's a knock on the door and you take another deep breath and open the door, finding Jensen on the other side.

"Jensen-" you say quickly.

"Hey, can I, uh, can I come in?" He replies, a small smirk plastered on his face.

"Um yeah, okay, come in" you open the door more to let him into your trailer.

He looks around your trailer before his gaze falls back on you, "Just wanted to check in, make sure you were still okay after the coffee incident earlier"

"Oh? Yeah, I'm fine. No issues. Just some coffee smelling clothes to wash," you try to be as nonchalant as possible but you're failing miserably.

"Well, I got you something. I know you ran into me but I feel bad for spilling my coffee in you, and I have a feeking you'll like what I got you" he cheekily grins and he pulls out a packet of skittles, gently tossing them to you.

Your eyes widen, "W-what?" you say as your face practically turns as red as a tomato.

"Caught a glimpse of your script earlier and you made sure to really emphasize my lines" he winks at you, "Don't worry, I think it's cute. a little funny even" he grins.

You hide your face in your hands "oh my god, that's so embarrassing" you chuckle behind your hands

He chuckles as he walks up to you taking your wrists and pulling your hands down from your face. "It's cute. You're cute." he smiles as he brushes a strand of hair from your face.

Your cheeks flush again "you really know how to make a girl blush" you say trying to hide the redness of your cheeks.

"Hey, don't hide that pretty face, sweetheart" he smiles, using his fingers to guide your chin to face him.

"I gotta go, but just wanted to make sure you were still okay, and give you that present" he grins.

"Well thank you" you chuckle lightly looking at the skittles in your hand.

"Anytime, sweetheart" he smiles as he walks out the door, but he stops before closing the door, "oh and maybe later, if you'll be here, maybe I can come back and, you know, diddle that skittle," he winks at you before closing the door leaving you wide-eyed, flustered, and alone in your trailer with nothing but your thoughts, and a bag of skittles.

————————————————————————

A/N: sooo should I do a smutty part 2?🫢

tags: @cevansbaby-dove @justwhisperingfantasies @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @mostlymarvelgirl @multiversefanfics

[suugarbabe]

animagus!puppy enzo x reader

summary: enzo wants to show you his new tricks; slightly alluding to poly!slytherin boys if you squint but i guess not totally

an: courtesy of a hubby yap thank you @musingsofahufflepuff

At first you just ignored it, Enzo coming in and out of the room. But after about the fifth time, you got a little curious. You lowered your book slightly, just enough to peer over the pages but not enough to make Enzo think you were actually giving him attention. Clearly he was searching for it. 

He pretended like he wasn’t waiting for you to pay him mind, but each time he set an item on the ground you saw him peer at you through his peripheral. It was an odd collection of things; a small decorative pillow, a dog toy, a broomstick, one of Theo’s loafers and…

“Is that Matty’s toothbrush?” you lean forward on the couch, book now discarded beside you. 

Enzo is beaming, “Don’t tell him..want him to walk in and see it, see how pissed he gets.” He then walks away and into the kitchen. You watch curiously as he pulls out the box of dog treats and walks back over to where you were sitting in the living room, setting the box of treats down by your feet. 

He walks to the other side of the room before facing you again. Your head tilts curiously, silently asking Enzo what the hell he was up to. Then he raised his fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. 

“I now present…a show,” he bows, extending his arm out over his display of items on the floor. In a blink of an eye he’s transformed into an Australian shepherd puppy. You watch as his tail begins to wag, his front paws beginning to tap almost like he’s revving up. His little puppy behind raises in the air and then…he zooms off. 

“What the…” you mumbled under your breath, a half smile creeping it’s way on to your features. Enzo runs towards the broomstick, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he pushes off the ground and jumps over the thin piece of wood. As he lands on the other side he turns to you, tail wagging wildly. 

You give him a golf clap, but Enzo shakes his head, ears flopping back and forth. He makes his way over to you, nudging the box of treats with his snout before looking back up at you. 

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding,” you lean forward, elbows on your knees. Enzo only whines, nudging the box again. “Fucking hell, okay, okay,” you dig in the box and fish out a treat, handing it over to Enzo he takes it happily. 

Still munching, he trots back over to the other side of the room before pushing off again, this time jumping over the dog toy before running a bit more and jumping over Theo’s loafer as well. Enzo turns to you, smiling and panting slightly. 

“Two jumps? Very impressive, Enzie. Another reward I’m assuming?” You dig out another treat from the box at your feet, Enzo quickly making his way over to you and accepting his earnings. “You know, I bet you can’t do all the jumps at once,” you’re goading him slightly, but you swear you see his eyebrows turn down in determination. 

He makes his way over to his starting spot. You scoot to the edge of the couch, prepared to have to pick him up and soothe him in case he trips over something in his intent to be impressive. You watch as he seems to ready himself, doing a few small bounces on his front paws as if practicing the motion and oomph he’d need to make all of his jumps. 

He pushed off, zipping over the broomstick with ease. He went for Mattheo’s toothbrush next, which honestly was the smarter decision as it was the smallest thing on the floor. He, of course, cleared it with no problem. He had to turn slightly before going for the dog toy, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you watched in anticipation. 

Pushing off the floor he was able to make it over the dog toy and rushed toward his next target. You saw his head lower, eyes fixed on Theo’s loafer. He jumped higher than he probably needed to, but it seemed like he was proud of himself for making it over. 

He’s gained more momentum, his nails making noise against the hardwood as he circles around and heads for his final hurdle: the decorative pillow. Both hands are now covering your face, eyes peeking through your fingers as Enzo nears the object. 

Making his jump, his front paws make it over the pillow. You can see a hint of a smile, his tongue hanging out as he’s midway over. His back paws, however, come down a little too quickly, clipping the pillow and making Enzo tumble over himself. He rolls twice on the ground before scurrying up and starting to whine. 

“Oh, Enzie..oh baby did you hurt yourself?” you rush over to him, scooping him up and holding him close to your chest and you feel each of his little legs and paws. His snout nuzzles into your chest as you pet down his back and scratch between his ears. “Awh, darling..are you embarrassed?” 

He whines, nodding against you and you can’t help but squeeze him a little tighter. Amidst your comfort cuddles, Mattheo’s voice calls from down the hall, “Has anyone seen my toothbrush?” 

As if miraculously recovered, Enzo jumps from your lap and runs over to where he earlier placed Matty’s toothbrush on the ground. He picks it up with his mouth, making his way down the hall where a moment later you hear him getting praised all over again.

[julietsf1]

Off Limits - Kenan Yildiz x Bellingham!Reader

summary: Jude had one rule: his sister was strictly off-limits. Kenan really tried to listen, really did. But then you smiled at him, and, well—there was no coming back from that. (18k words)

content: brother's best friend, slow burn, secret relationship, forbidden love, slight angst

AN: wrote this on the plane the other day!! can't lie guys, I have a real soft spot for Madrid since I had an exchange there & with the recent rumours on the possibility of Kenan leaving Juve I just had to write this! It is looooong but being a binge reader myself I always prefer long stories over multiple chapters :) hope u enjoy! ciao

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The house smelled of garlic and slow-simmering tomatoes, the kind of warmth that wrapped around you the second you stepped inside. It was familiar, homey—but unexpected. Jude rarely cooked unless coerced, which meant one thing:

He had help.

Following the hum of conversation and the occasional clatter of pans, you stepped into the kitchen—and immediately stopped short.

Jude stood by the stove, stirring something that, shockingly, looked edible. Beside him, moving with effortless ease, was a second figure, sleeves pushed up, knife in hand, chopping vegetables with practiced precision.

Your brows lifted slightly.

Kenan Yıldız.

You recognized him instantly—not just because of who he was, but because Jude never shut up about him. His name had been woven into conversations for weeks now. One of the best new signings at Madrid. Got along with Jude right away.

What you hadn’t expected was… this.

Kenan fit into the kitchen like he had been coming to your house for years. The smooth rhythm of his hands, the clean efficiency as he gathered greens in his palm before tossing them into a bowl—it was clear he knew what he was doing. He didn’t even look up at first, simply remarking,

“You must be Jude’s sister.”

His voice was warm, rich, touched with something amused—like he already knew you.

You blinked. “And you must be the new recruit.”

That got his attention. He looked up then and—okay, wow.

It wasn’t just that he was handsome; that was a given. It was how he carried himself—calm, unhurried, effortlessly present, as if he didn’t need to take up space to be noticed. His dazling green eyes met yours, gaze steady, warm, quietly amused. Like he was taking you in, waiting to see what you’d say next.

Jude, oblivious to the shift in the air, barely looked up. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s not helping.”

Kenan scoffed, feigning offense. “Excuse me? I’m doing all the hard work.”

“You’re cutting vegetables,” Jude deadpanned.

“With flawless precision,” Kenan shot back.

You leaned against the counter, watching them, amused despite yourself.

“You actually cook?” you asked, directing the question at Kenan.

He nodded, as if it were obvious. “Of course.”

Jude let out a disbelieving snort. “He’s lying.”

Kenan pressed a hand to his chest, mock wounded. “What’s with the judging, Judy?”

“You literally looked up a tutorial on TikTok when you picked up the knife.”

Kenan smirked. “And? I’m a quick learner.”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed. Unexpected. Kenan’s gaze flickered to you, and for a brief moment, his expression softened.

Clearing your throat, you fought to regain the upper hand. “So, you’re just here to show off, then?”

Kenan shrugged. “Figured I should try my best to impress the sister I’ve heard so much about.”

You tilted your head. “Are you this smooth with everyone, or am I just special?”

His smile was slow, a little surprised—like he wasn’t expecting you to match him but found that he liked it.

“A little of both,” he admitted. “But mainly the latter.”

Jude groaned, dramatically turning away from the stove. “Oh my days. Don’t make me wack you with this spatula Kenan.”

Kenan smirked. “No worries, bro”

Yet he was still watching you, eyes glinting, something unreadable flickering behind them—like he wasn’t sure what to make of you yet.

You stretched out comfortably in the kitchen chair. “I think I’ll just sit here and watch. This is way more entertaining than I expected.”

Kenan chuckled, reaching for another onion. “As long as you’re enjoying yourself.”

The worst part? You did.

Jude, still focused on the pan, added, “For the record, Kenan practically begged to be invited over.”

Kenan exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “That’s a dramatic way to put it.”

You arched a brow. “So what’s the less dramatic version?”

Kenan wiped his hands on a towel, leaning back against the counter. “I mentioned I had nothing to do tonight, and your brother insisted I come over.”

Jude scoffed. “You asked what I was making for dinner and then said, That sounds nice. I wish I had plans.”

Kenan shrugged, utterly unbothered. “And you invited me. So, really, this is on you.”

You hummed, amused. “Strategic play.”

Kenan’s lips twitched. “Can you blame me? Good food, good company…” His eyes flickered to you for half a second before he added, “I think I made the right call.”

Jude, oblivious, just shook his head. “Right. Well, you can do the dishes, then.”

Kenan sighed, dramatic as ever. “That’s not how guests should be treated.”

You smirked, shaking your head at him.

Jude barely paid attention, focused on stirring the pan. “Kenan’s alright,” he muttered. “One of the only friends I actually trust with my life.”

Kenan looked over at him, a little surprised, like he wasn’t expecting the sentiment to be voiced so easily.

Jude continued, utterly unfazed. “That being said—just so you know—same rule applies to him as everyone else.”

He finally turned, fixing Kenan with a pointed look. “She’s off-limits.”

The air shifted.

Your expression twisted immediately. “Excuse me?”

Jude didn’t even glance at you. His focus remained on Kenan, casual but firm. It was clear he didn’t think twice about saying it, just like he had with every other teammate, every other friend. It was instinct.

Kenan, to his credit, didn’t flinch. He held Jude’s stare for a long moment, something unreadable passing through his expression before it turned into a friendly smile.

“Duly noted.”

Jude gave him a little slap on the back, before turning back to the stove. 

“Not that I don’t trust you, man. Just needed you to know.”

And then, just as effortlessly, just as naturally as if this were all a game only he knew the rules to—

Kenan winked at you.

You wanted to throw something.

Kenan just chuckled under his breath, tossing a handful of chopped parsley into the dish.

Jude, completely oblivious, still hunched over the stove, stirring like nothing had happened.

You exhaled slowly, chest feeling tighter than before.

This was going to be a problem.

…

The night was already borderline ridiculous before you even set foot on the course.

Disco golf.

Who in their right mind came up with this?

The artificial grass glowed with neon strips, fluorescent obstacles scattered across each hole like some kind of fever dream. Overhead, strobe lights pulsed in sync with a painfully bad club remix blaring from the speakers. It was an assault on the senses in every possible way.

And yet, somehow, this group made it work.

You barely had a chance to breathe before Antoine Griezmann materialized out of nowhere, his signature shit-eating grin firmly in place.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, flipping a golf ball between his fingers like it was a poker chip. “Look who finally showed up.”

“I was literally five minutes late.”

Antoine was as predictable as ever—an insufferable smooth-talker, equal parts charming and irritating. He had tried it with you once, a half-baked attempt at flirting that had crashed and burned spectacularly. Instead of being embarrassed, he had turned it into a long-running joke at your expense. Or at least, he claimed it was a joke. 

You rolled your eyes. “I see Jude didn’t immediately chase you out of here. He must be in a good mood.”

Antoine pressed a hand to his chest, mock wounded. “Why do people assume your brother hates me?”

“Because he does,” a new voice chimed in.

Vini Jr. 

The responsible one. The glue that held the group together. He was calm, steady, unbothered—unless you insulted his dance routine, in which case, he suffered more than anyone you knew.

Vini clapped Antoine on the back, his expression completely deadpan. “And for good reason.”

Antoine scoffed. “You wound me, bro.”

Before Vini could respond, a golf club swung dangerously close to both their faces.

“Boys, boys,” Arda Güler interrupted, dramatically flourishing his club like he was starring in a medieval jousting match. The lovable idiot, always at the center of chaos. His entire personality was built on making bad decisions and hoping for the best.

“This is a game of precision, not violence.” He spun his club around before dramatically planting it into the ground. “And I will emerge victorious.”

“You say that every time,” Vini muttered.

Arda ignored him.

A hand clapped down on your shoulder, and you turned to find Julián Álvarez standing beside you, unreadable as always.

“Should I even ask why you agreed to this?” he asked, voice low, amusement barely detectable.

Julián was the quietest of the group—the type who didn’t say much but noticed everything. He never inserted himself into drama, but if you needed advice, someone to talk to, or a brutally honest reality check, he was the guy.

You shrugged. “Morbid curiosity.”

Julián hummed, unconvinced.

The group started pairing up, and you had already resigned yourself to being stuck with Jude, as always. But before you could even move, Arda slung an arm around Jude’s shoulders.

“I’m with Jude,” he announced decisively, leaving no room for argument.

Jude shot him an incredulous look. “Since when?”

“Since now,” Arda said, already dragging him toward the first hole. “You’re good at this, right? Because I refuse to lose.”

You barely had time to process the betrayal before Julián and Vini shuffeled a little closer together as well. 

Great. That left you with either Antoine or Kenan.

Your eyes flickered toward Antoine, who was casually flipping his golf ball in one hand, smirking like he was already planning something insufferable.

Without a second thought, you turned to Kenan instead.

He was already watching you, utterly unbothered, twirling his club with the same easy confidence he carried in everything.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me,” he said, handing you your ball.

Your fingers tightened around it as you met his gaze.

“Lucky me.”

Kenan’s lips twitched, just slightly. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Jude, too preoccupied with arguing with Arda over proper golf technique, hadn’t even noticed—let alone the way heat crept up your neck as Kenan watched you with quiet amusement.

…

The first few holes passed in a blur of neon-lit obstacles and questionable golf techniques. Arda was taking things far too seriously, Jude was arguing about angles like this was an actual competition, and Antoine had already managed to cheat twice—though no one could prove it.

Kenan, to your mild surprise, was actually decent at it. Not overly competitive, but smooth, precise. Effortless.

Annoyingly so.

You, on the other hand, were not having as much luck. Your shots weren’t terrible, but they also weren’t particularly impressive. And Kenan, who had the unfortunate privilege of witnessing every single attempt, was clearly enjoying himself.

By the fifth hole, you were losing patience.

Kenan leaned on his club, watching as your ball veered slightly off-course. “Not bad,” he mused. “But I think you’re gripping the club too tight.”

You shot him a look. “Thanks, coach.”

He grinned. “Anytime.”

You exhaled, adjusting your stance before trying again. The ball rolled forward, making it past the obstacle this time but still stopping just short of the hole.

Kenan made a thoughtful sound. “Better.”

You turned to him, exasperated. “Do you actually have tips, or are you just enjoying watching me struggle?”

He tilted his head, considering. “Little bit of both.”

You huffed, shaking your head as you lined up for another shot. But before you could take it, you felt him step closer.

Too close.

Kenan reached out, adjusting your grip on the club before you could protest. “Relax,” he murmured, voice low enough that Jude—still distracted by Arda—wouldn’t hear. “You’re overthinking it.”

Your pulse jumped.

You were sure he knew exactly what he was doing. The proximity, the subtle amusement laced through his words—it was intentional.

You rolled your shoulders, pretending the heat creeping up your neck was from frustration. “Are you showing off again?”

Kenan smirked. “If I were showing off, you’d know.”

Before you could come up with a response, he took a step back, gesturing toward the ball. “Try again.”

You did. And, to your surprise, it went in.

You blinked at the hole, momentarily stunned.

Kenan’s smirk deepened. “See? All you needed was the right guidance.”

You turned to him, unimpressed. “You’re going to be insufferable about this, aren’t you?”

He shrugged, all faux innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You exhaled sharply, turning back to the course.

…

The next morning, you sat across from Jude at your favorite café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries curling around you like a comforting embrace.

Brunch had become a ritual—a chance to catch up, talk nonsense, and, more often than not, for Jude to rant about something that had deeply offended his very specific worldview that week.

Today, that thing was Antoine Griezmann.

You weren’t even five minutes into your meal before Jude leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and let out a deep, dramatic sigh.

“I hate him.”

You didn’t even have to ask who he was talking about.

Still, you took a slow sip of your coffee, humoring him. “Antoine?”

Jude scoffed. “Obviously Antoine.”

You hummed in amusement, cutting into your pancake. “What did he do this time?”

Jude leaned forward, elbows braced against the table. “What did he do? He was one second away from licking your face off, did you miss that?”

You snorted. “He was annoying, but I wouldn’t say that.”

Jude shot you a deeply unimpressed look. “He was testing my patience.”

You arched a brow, feigning innocence. “So… your patience is thin, then?”

“My patience doesn’t exist when it comes to my friends hitting on my sister,” he stated, as if it were fact.

“Technically, he didn’t hit on me,” you pointed out.

Jude’s glare was immediate. “He was setting up for it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t worry. You know I’d never reciprocate anything anyway, right?”

“You better not.”

You exhaled through your nose, reaching for your coffee.

Because this was just Jude. Overprotective, borderline ridiculous, but never in a way that truly irritated you—because you knew it came from a good place.

Still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t overdoing it.

Jude took a sip of his drink, shaking his head. “It’s a hard rule. No friends of mine. Ever.”

You almost choked on your coffee.

Then, slowly, you leaned back in your chair. “Aren’t you going a bit far?”

“It’s for the best.”

“It’s insane.”

Jude crossed his arms. “You know footballers. You know I’m right.”

Your mouth opened. Then closed.

Because, unfortunately, he had a point. You weren’t blind.

You had spent enough time around Jude and his teammates to know how they moved—always on the go, always in a whirlwind of temporary flings, casual connections, never really rooted anywhere.

Still, your mind drifted to Kenan, who did not give you that impression at all.

You eyed him, unimpressed. “So what are you aiming at? Immediate death if they look at me?”

Jude barely hesitated. “Immediate exile.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “A bit dramatic.”

“I think it’s still very generous.”

You sighed, knowing this was an argument you wouldn’t win.

…

The house was alive.

Music pulsed through the walls, the bass thrumming beneath your feet like a second heartbeat. Laughter spilled from the kitchen, where a group of guys were debating whether or not vodka actually made you better at beer pong. The air smelled of alcohol, sweat, and something vaguely burnt—probably whatever disaster Arda had left in the oven.

It was the kind of night that blurred at the edges, full of bad decisions and good memories. The kind of night where anything could happen.

And yet you barely registered any of it.

Because he was here.

You felt Kenan’s presence like static in the air, a pull that had been getting harder and harder to ignore. It had been this way all night—glances exchanged across the room, fleeting, lingering.

He was talking to someone, laughing at something Arda had said, but even as he smiled—as if nothing in the world was out of place—

You knew better.

Because he kept looking at you, too.

Short, quick glances that made your pulse kick up a notch.

You tore your gaze away, turning your attention to the nearest distraction.

Unfortunately, that distraction came in the form of Antoine Griezmann.

“Well, well,” Antoine drawled, appearing beside you with his usual brand of obnoxious charm. “If it isn’t my favorite Bellingham.”

You sighed, already bracing yourself. “Oh, God.”

Antoine grinned. “Did you miss me?”

“No.”

“Lies. Say it again, maybe I’ll believe you this time.”

You turned to face him, unimpressed. “Antoine, it’s physically impossible for me to miss you when you’re always finding new and creative ways to bother me.”

Antoine pressed a hand to his chest, feigning heartbreak. “Always so feisty.”

You didn’t even bother responding.

Suddenly his hand landed on your waist.

Casual. Uninvited.

Before you could even react and push him back, Jude was there, looking very angry. Oh god. 

His voice was sharp, unamused, cutting through the noise like a blade.

“Antoine.”

Antoine turned, lazy grin still in place. “Jude. Nice house party.”

Jude’s jaw ticked. “Get your hand off my sister.”

Antoine raised his hands in mock surrender. “Relax. Just saying hi.”

Jude’s eyes narrowed. “Okay. Say it differently.”

Antoine smirked. “Don’t be so pressed.”

Jude now looked ready to commit an actual crime.

And just like that, you’d had enough.

You weren’t about to stand around while Jude and Antoine had another one of their pissing contests.

“You boys have fun,” you muttered, pushing past them before either could stop you.

You felt Jude’s glare follow you.

You didn’t care.

You weaved through the crowd, exhaling slowly, trying to shake the tension tightening in your chest.

Suddenly, a hand brushed against yours. Barely there. Just enough to make you notice.

Before you could process it, fingers wrapped around your wrist. Light, but firm. A silent don’t go that way.

No words. Just a pull—smooth and effortless—like he had already decided you were coming with him.

You didn’t fight it. Just let Kenan steer you through the crowd until the heavy bass dulled and cool night air brushed your skin.

Only then did he let go.

Kenan exhaled, raking a hand through his hair. “You okay?”

Your arms crossed over your chest. "I should be asking you that."

He let out a breathy chuckle. "Why?"

"Because you just dragged me out of a party without saying a word."

Kenan smirked. “You followed.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not the point.”

He didn’t argue. Instead, his eyes flickered back toward the door—checking. Not for just anyone. For one person in particular.

Your stomach flipped at the realization. 

"Antoine gets on your nerves that much?" you asked, tilting your head.

Kenan sighed, leaning against the railing. "You could say that."

Without thinking, you reached out, your fingertips barely brushing his forearm. A fleeting touch, light as air, easy enough to pass off as nothing.

Kenan went completely still.

His green eyes flickered down to where your skin met his before slowly dragging back up to your face, something dark and unreadable swimming in them.

"You really care about that?" you murmured, barely above a whisper.

Kenan’s lips quirked, but his voice was steady. "Should I not?"

You held his gaze, pulse quickening. You knew damn well it was never just about Antoine. 

It was about you.

It was about the way Kenan had been watching you all night, the way he kept finding ways to be near you, the way his eyes dipped to your lips before flicking away like he hadn’t just done that.

You swallowed hard.

“We can’t do this,” Kenan murmured, but he didn’t move back.

He was still standing too close, still looking at you like he was already too far gone.

And you, reckless, breathless, said the words before you could stop yourself.

"I think it’s too late for that."

A flicker of something passed through his expression—uncertainty, hesitation, but that disappeared when he closed the space between you, his lips meeting yours.

It was slow at first, like he wasn’t sure if he was really allowed to, like he thought you might push him away. His lips brushed against yours once, twice—light, barely there, testing. But then you exhaled against him, your fingers curling into the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, and that hesitation unraveled.

His hand found your waist, gripping just firmly enough to keep you anchored as his other slid up, fingers skimming along your jaw before cupping your face, tilting it up to him. The railing pressed into your back, cold against your skin, but you barely noticed. All you could focus on was the warmth of him, the way his lips pressed deeper against yours, like he was memorizing the way you felt, the way you fit against him.

A slow, lingering drag of his mouth over yours, a quiet hitch of breath as your fingers twisted tighter into his shirt. When you tilted your head just slightly, letting him deepen the kiss, a quiet sound rumbled from his throat—a low, pleased hum that sent heat coursing through your veins.

It was a mess of pent-up frustration, of every unsaid thing, every stolen glance that had led to this exact moment.

And you didn’t stop him. You couldn’t. Ignoring all the alarm bells that were supposed to go off inside your head. 

You chased it, chased him, let him pull you closer, let the weight of his body press against yours until—

The door creaked open.

You and Kenan broke apart instantly, breathless, heat still prickling under your skin.

Julián stepped onto the terrace, stretching.

You forced your breath to slow, straightening slightly.

Kenan rubbed the back of his neck, looking too casual.

Julián barely glanced at either of you. “Too loud in there,” he muttered, yawning.

Your heart was still pounding.

Julián paused, frowning slightly. “Why do you two look so—”

“Weird lighting,” Kenan cut in smoothly.

Julián squinted, then shrugged before turning away again. "Huh. Cool."

You risked a glance at Kenan.

And even though neither of you said anything, you both knew. This was far from over.

…

The morning after a party was always far too quiet.

The kind of quiet that exaggerated every tiny sound—every creak, every rustle—as if conspiring to remind you of all your questionable choices. Choices like sneaking onto terraces. Choices involving certain footballers whose names started with ‘K’ and ended with ‘enan.’

Yes, questionable indeed.

At breakfast, you tried to appear casual—a tall order given your current mental spiral. You clutched your lukewarm coffee like a lifeline, while across from you, Kenan sat annoyingly unbothered, spreading butter on toast with the ease of someone who had never had a scandalous terrace rendezvous.

Your narrowed eyes did nothing to shake his composure.

And because the universe loved tormenting you, Jude entered the kitchen at that precise moment, looking impressively disgruntled for someone still wearing last night’s hoodie. He slammed a plate down with the melodrama reserved for mornings after.

"Antoine Griezmann," he began, as if invoking an arch-nemesis, "is the biggest dickhead I’ve ever met."

Kenan, infuriatingly calm, took a sip of coffee. "Good morning to you too, Jude."

"Unbelievable," Jude muttered, turning to you. "That man has zero sense of boundaries."

From beside you came Arda’s voice, muffled by his folded arms. "For the love of God, lower your voice."

"You didn’t even drink," Jude shot back.

Arda lifted his head slightly, wincing. "The drinks weren’t the problem. The nachos, on the other hand…"

No one disagreed. The faint scent of burnt tortilla chips still lingered accusingly.

"Anyway," Jude continued, undeterred, "Antoine is officially banned from future gatherings."

You sighed. So much for hoping he’d drop the issue overnight.

"He put his hands on you," Jude emphasized. "I should’ve decked him."

"Jude. He barely touched me."

Jude scoffed. "Barely? You’re seriously defending him?"

"I’m not defending him. He’s a prick, but you’re overreacting."

Jude muttered something darkly under his breath.

Arda, finally awake enough to contribute, chuckled. "Antoine thinks he has a chance with everyone."

"Exactly!" Jude pointed triumphantly. "This is why—"

You braced yourself.

"No friends of mine. Ever."

There it was. Jude’s favorite rule, delivered with his usual finality.

Across from you, Kenan finally broke his silence, eyes amused above his coffee cup. "Are you always this intense before noon?"

"Don't start," Jude shot back.

Arda sighed. "Jude’s still recovering from his Antoine-induced rage episode."

"It wouldn’t be necessary if people listened to me," Jude muttered, sitting heavily with his breakfast.

You kept your focus on your now-cold coffee, resisting the urge to grimace. The last thing you needed was Jude sensing anything off.

But the silence stretched. You caved—stealing a quick glance across the table.

Kenan was already watching you.

Not brooding. Enjoying this. The way his gaze lingered was insufferable—calm, playful, like he knew exactly what was on your mind.

Your brows lifted. What?

The corner of his mouth curved—barely. A quiet tease. A private acknowledgment of shared misbehavior.

Your cheeks warmed. You turned back to your coffee.

Kenan cleared his throat softly, hiding his amusement with another slow sip.

It was going to be a long breakfast.

…

The living room was a battlefield of discarded hoodies, half-empty snack bags, and abandoned water bottles—the kind of war zone that only a FIFA night in full swing could create.

Jude was perched at the edge of the couch, controller clutched in both hands, his entire body tense with single-minded focus.

Julián, annoyingly composed, sat next to him, casual but lethal, dismantling the opposition with the kind of effortless precision that made everyone else look bad.

Arda, however, was mid-meltdown.

“This game is rigged,” he groaned, throwing his arms up as the ball sailed over the goal, missing by an embarrassing margin.

Vini barely spared him a glance. “You guys just suck.”

Arda let out a dramatic sigh, flopping back onto the couch. “Next round, we’re switching teams.”

And then, of course, there was Kenan. Lounging back against the cushions, controller resting lazily in his hands, watching the chaos like it was free entertainment.

His lips twitched slightly when he noticed you standing near the doorway. A quick once-over, deliberate, measured.

You ignored the way your stomach tightened under his stare.

"You guys still at this?" you asked, stepping further inside.

Jude didn’t even look up. " Vini’s on some demon mode tonight."

Vini smirked, glancing at you. "It’s not my fault everyone else is bad."

Arda, ever dramatic, flopped across the couch like a fallen soldier. “This is what I get for believing in myself.”

Kenan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Maybe next time, Arda."

Arda shot him a glare before tilting his head toward you.

"Are you keen on joining, or do you have more productive things planned?"

You rolled your eyes. "I’m getting water and then I need to finish my paper, unfortunately ."

...

The second you stepped into the kitchen, you exhaled, pressing your hands against the countertop.

You just needed a moment. A pause. A second to collect yourself..

But apparently, tonight wasn’t going to grant you that luxury.

Footsteps.

"It’s really cute how you get all flustered."

His voice was softer this time, teasing but not sharp, laced with something warmer, something dangerously close to fondness.

You turned slowly.

Kenan stood by the counter, one hand resting lightly against the surface, his posture relaxed in a way that felt entirely deliberate. His gaze swept over you—not just playful, not just amused. Knowing.

"You followed me," you murmured, willing your voice to stay steady.

Kenan tilted his head slightly, an easy smile playing at his lips. "Felt like the right direction to go."

Not a denial. Not an admission. Just a quiet, magnetic pull in the form of words.

"You need to stop looking at me like that," you muttered.

Kenan raised an eyebrow, gaze steady. "Like what?"

You swallowed.

He was too close. Close enough that you caught the faintest trace of his cologne, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you in ways you didn’t have the strength to ignore.

"Like you want to kiss me," you said, quieter this time.

Something flickered in his expression—brief but unmistakable.

"I do," he said simply.

The air between you shifted.

He wasn’t smirking now. He wasn’t toying with you.

"You can’t say things like that," you murmured.

"Why not?"

You opened your mouth, but you struggeled to find words.

Because what were you supposed to say? That he made it impossible to think straight? That you had spent the entire morning replaying the way he kissed you last night? That if you let yourself, you might start thinking about how much you wanted him to do it again?

"Because Jude—"

There it was.

The reason why you should be walking away right now.

Kenan sighed, running a hand through his hair. The teasing was gone now, something quieter settling in its place.

"You think I don’t know that?" he muttered.

Your breath caught.

Kenan took another step forward.

The kitchen felt smaller. The air, heavier. A quiet moment stretched between you. Not tense. Not uncertain. Just… waiting.

His gaze flickered to your lips for a fraction of a second.

And then he kissed you.

There was no hesitation this time.

His hands found your waist first, pulling you against him with quiet urgency, like he had been holding back for far too long.

Your breath caught, fingers gripping the front of his hoodie as he deepened the kiss, steady and deliberate. Like he wanted to memorize the way you felt against him. Like he wanted to savor every second of it.

His fingers pressed against your back, firm, grounding. Your heart stuttered as he lifted you effortlessly, setting you onto the counter like he had been meaning to do it all along.

Your legs parted instinctively to let him step between them.

And when his lips left yours, trailing down, brushing along your jaw, then lower—

A quiet sigh escaped before you could stop it.

Kenan smiled against your skin, pressing another slow, lingering kiss just below your ear.

You barely had the presence of mind to cling to him, hands twisted in his hoodie, breath uneven.

He stepped away, leaving behind the faintest trace of warmth where his hands had been. Not far. Just enough for you to feel the absence of his warmth. 

Your pulse was a mess, your mind struggling to keep up. 

His lips brushed your ear, voice barely above a whisper.

"I really like you."

The shift was instant, the absence of him unsettling in a way you hadn’t prepared for.

You blinked, fingers still curled against the counter, as if letting go might send you tumbling into something you weren’t ready to name.

Kenan smirked—subtle, something almost teasing but not quite.

Then, with a lingering glance, he winked and walked out.

Like this hadn’t just changed everything.

You exhaled slowly, staring at the empty doorway, thoughts colliding too fast to make sense of.

Because Kenan Yıldız liked you. And you we’re definitely enjoying his company too.

It took a full minute before your body caught up with your brain.

Even as you stepped forward, something felt off—like you were still hovering in the space Kenan had left behind, the ghost of his hands on your waist lingering longer than they should. You inhaled sharply, straightened your shirt, and walked out of the kitchen with a carefully practiced ease.

Past the living room. Toward the stairs. Just a few more steps and you’d be free.

When all of a sudden Jude looked up. His brows immediately pulled together. "You look like shit."

You halted mid-step. “Excuse me?”

He tilted his head, studying you like some kind of medical anomaly. "Did you die in the kitchen? What’s wrong with you?"

From the couch, Arda barely lifted his head, his voice dry. "Maybe she saw whatever’s still in the oven. That alone could ruin anyone’s night."

You forced a laugh, shaking your head. "You guys still haven’t cleaned that?"

Jude didn’t blink. "Right. Well, hope you’re okay." His suspicion deepened, his gaze lingering a second too long.

Your eyes flicked to Kenan.

He was leaning back against the couch, controller in hand, seemingly absorbed in the game. Nothing about his expression gave anything away, but you noticed his almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. A silent reminder of what had just happened.

Your fingers twitched at your sides, heat creeping up your neck as you tore your gaze away before he could make things worse.

…

If someone had told you a few weeks ago that you’d be sneaking around behind Jude’s back, stealing glances and secret touches with his best friend, you would have laughed.

But here you were. And you weren’t stopping.

At first, it had been subtle. Little things that could be dismissed as nothing if anyone noticed.

The way Kenan’s knee would press against yours when you sat side by side, lingering a second too long before shifting away—always with that small, knowing smile. 

The way he’d find excuses to touch you in passing—a hand grazing the small of your back, fingers brushing against yours when he handed you something, the steady warmth of his palm resting on your waist as he leaned in to whisper something only you could hear.

You hadn’t been sure if it was intentional. If he was testing the limits.

Then came the car rides.

Kenan had convinced Jude that carpooling to training made sense, especially on days when Jude had plans afterward and wouldn’t be heading straight home.

And suddenly, Kenan was picking you up after work, dropping you home after practice, stretching the moments when it was just the two of you for as long as possible.

The car was dangerous. No one else around. No one to stop things from slipping past the point of denial.

Like the first time he had reached over—mid-traffic—to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

His fingers barely skimmed your skin, but the feeling traveled everywhere.

Or the time you had been venting about something Jude had done, and Kenan had just… reached over and taken your hand.

No smirk. No joke. No performance.

Just a gentle squeeze, his thumb tracing slow, absentminded circles over your knuckles, his eyes still on the road, completely at ease in a moment that made your stomach twist into knots.

You just let him hold your hand all the way home.

And then there were the kisses. Stolen between car doors, in the quiet seconds before you had to pretend you weren’t completely unraveling for him. Kisses that left you breathless.

You weren’t sure how you had gotten here—how you had gone from avoiding him to falling straight into something neither of you could escape. The guilt of lying to Jude being overwhelmed by the joy you found whenever you two were together.

…

You were really not that much of a club goer. You hadn’t even planned on coming tonight.

But Jude had insisted, dragging you out with the usual crew, declaring that it had been far too long since your last proper night out. Maybe that should have been the first red flag.

Second red flag was Antoine. Obviously. 

He had been circling all night, hovering just close enough to make his presence known, just persistent enough to keep himself within your reach. Jude, already too deep into his drinks, was in no state to notice, leaving you to deal with him alone.

"Come on," Antoine leaned in, breath warm against your ear, his confidence as misplaced as ever. "Just one dance?"

You took a step back, trying to create space. "No, thanks."

If he heard the sharp edge in your voice, he chose to ignore it.

"Don’t be like that," he coaxed, grinning, still far too close.

Before you could respond, a presence settled beside you, calm and steady. Kenan.

He didn’t push, didn’t pull you away, didn’t do anything that could turn this into a scene. Instead, his fingers brushed against your wrist, light but deliberate, just enough to remind you he was there. That he had seen. That he wasn’t going to let this happen.

Antoine stiffened slightly. His smirk faltered, just for a second, before something sharp flickered in his gaze.

His hand lingered, his fingers warm against your skin, and suddenly Antoine decided he wasn’t so interested anymore.

"Didn’t realize you had another bodyguard," he muttered before stepping back, disappearing into the crowd without waiting for a response.

Kenan’s fingers squeezed yours for just a moment longer before he let go, as if anchoring you before he released you completely.

Away from the worst of the noise, he turned to face you. "You okay?"

You exhaled, forcing the tension from your shoulders. "Yeah. Antoine is just—"

"A problem?"

"My most annoying problem."

Kenan smirked, leaning in slightly, his voice low enough to send heat rushing to your face. "Am I your favorite problem?"

The question made something flutter in your chest, but before you could answer, he kissed you.

There was nothing rushed about it. His lips met yours like he had been waiting all night for this. His hands found your hips, fingers pressing just enough to keep you there, like letting go wasn’t an option he was considering.

Your breath hitched as he deepened the kiss, his smile pressing into yours when you tugged him closer, the warmth of his mouth making it impossible to think about anything else.

"Kenan!"

The sound barely registered before Kenan was being yanked away, leaving you momentarily dazed, still gripping the fabric of his shirt.

Arda, far too exasperated to even recognize you in the dimmed lights, clung to Kenan’s shoulder like a lifeline.

"Bro, you gotta come quick."

Kenan blinked, still slightly dazed himself. "What?"

"Jude. Russian shots. It’s bad."

Kenan let out a slow, exhausted sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. " Scheiße."

You bit your lip to keep from laughing.

He hesitated for a second, gaze flickering back to you, something tender in his expression.

Then, leaning in just enough that only you could hear him, he murmured, "I’ll see you soon, baby."

And with that, he let himself be dragged into whatever disaster Jude and Arda had created, disappearing into the chaos of the club, leaving you standing there, still catching up.

…

Jude was dead weight against your shoulder, his entire body slumped into yours as you half-dragged, half-guided him through the front door. His hoodie was pulled up over his face, barely concealing the mess of curls spilling out, and his sneakers scraped lazily against the floor as he mumbled nonsense under his breath.

It had been a long night.

You should have known this would happen—should have expected that your always-overdoing-it brother would push himself too far, too fast, too recklessly, just because he could.

The others had offered to help, but you had waved them off, insisting you had him. And you did. Even if he was an absolute nightmare to get through the door.

You exhaled sharply as he nearly collapsed onto you.

"Jude," you muttered, shifting his weight. "Come on, just a little further."

A sleepy, unintelligible grumble was the only response before you finally managed to maneuver him onto the couch. His body melted into the cushions immediately, limbs sprawled in every possible direction, completely unaware that you had just spent the last of your strength hauling him inside.

"Never drinking again," he mumbled.

You rolled your eyes, pulling a blanket over him. "Uh-huh."

His breathing had already slowed, the heavy pull of sleep dragging him under. Then, just as his consciousness slipped entirely, his voice came—soft, barely audible.

"I’m glad you’re here."

Your throat tightened unexpectedly. Jude wasn’t sentimental. Not like this. 

Not when he was awake, anyway.

You wanted to brush it off, let it roll past you like the other half-coherent things he had been mumbling all night.

But the words settled somewhere deeper than you expected.

Your phone buzzed against your palm.

One new message.

Kenan: Can I see you?

…

You cracked the door open, the cool night air whispering against your skin. Kenan stood there, hands tucked into his pockets, gaze steady—warm, waiting. The streetlights cast a soft glow along his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the quiet hesitation in his expression.

He wasn’t pushing. Wasn’t asking for anything more than what you were willing to give. But he was here.

You hesitated for only a second before stepping aside, letting him in.

Kenan moved past you, slow, deliberate, his presence filling the space effortlessly. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air—warm, clean, familiar in a way that made your stomach twist. The door clicked shut behind him, closing the rest of the world out.

Something between you felt different now, heavier with everything unspoken.

"You didn’t have to come," you murmured, your voice quieter than you meant it to be.

Kenan’s lips curved slightly, but the teasing edge was softer this time.

"I wanted to." His gaze searched yours, careful, intent. "I kept thinking about you. And I didn’t want to fall asleep wishing I was here instead."

Your fingers curled at your sides, gripping at nothing. "That’s..." You trailed off, words failing you. "That’s really sweet."

His smile deepened, laced with something warmer, something almost adoring. "I was worried I’d crossed into ‘hopelessly obsessed’ territory."

"Never said those things are mutually exclusive."

Kenan laughed. His fingers brushed against yours, hesitant at first—like he was giving you an out, a final moment to stop this before the line blurred beyond return.

You let his touch linger, let his fingers curl loosely around yours, warm and steady.

His voice was softer now. "I’m really glad to see you."

Your chest tightened. The weight of his words settled deep, making it harder to ignore what you already knew.

Your pulse quickened. Swallowing, keeping your voice low, careful, you murmured, "We should go upstairs. Before we wake Jude."

Kenan didn’t move right away. His fingers squeezed yours just slightly, his grip steady, anchoring himself to this moment.

"Lead the way," he murmured.

…

You woke up to warmth.

Not the usual, oh, the blanket’s cozy kind of warmth—but the very specific kind that came from having a large, slightly inconvenient man wrapped around you like a human radiator.

Kenan’s arm was heavy around your waist, his chest pressed firmly against your back, his breath slow and even against the nape of your neck.

For a blissful, fleeting moment, you didn’t think.

You just existed in the warmth of him, in the steady way he held you, like even in sleep, he wasn’t willing to let go. It was grounding, disorienting, and honestly very distracting.

And then—

A knock at the door.

Your heart stopped.

"Hey, you up?" 

Jude’s voice. Groggy. Unmistakable.

Kenan went completely still behind you.

Your stomach plummeted at the exact same speed panic shot through your veins.

You twisted, shoving at his shoulder, whispering urgently, "Go hide. Now."

Kenan groaned into the pillow, voice rough with sleep and entirely unbothered. "What’s going on?"

"Closet! Hurry up!" you hissed, already untangling yourself from the sheets, frantically smoothing out the blankets.

He cursed under his breath before rolling—not gracefully, not remotely smoothly—off the bed, landing with a muffled thud that had you cringing. You barely had time to gawk at his ridiculous lack of stealth before he scrambled toward the closet, slipping inside just as the doorknob turned.

You flipped onto your back, throwing an innocent expression onto your face so forcefully it was probably suspiciousas Jude poked his head in.

He blinked. Then squinted. Then held up a plate.

"As a thank you for dragging me home," he announced, completely unprompted. "I brought breakfast."

You stared at him, still trying to calm your breathing. "Wow. How sweet of you."

Jude frowned, stepping inside, eyeing you like you’d been caught committing tax fraud. "Why are you being weird?"

From inside the closet came the softest possible shuffle. You ignored it. Barely.

"I’m not," you said far too quickly.

Jude narrowed his eyes, the skepticism radiating from him palpable. "You definitely are."

The silence stretched.

Kenan was absolutely in that closet grinning. You just knew it.

“Just a bit sleepy, still need to wake up a bit.” You said, not even sure if you could convince yourself. 

After a painfully long beat, Jude finally left. "Take your time. I’ll be in the living room."

The moment the door clicked shut, you collapsed against the pillows, exhaling sharply.

From inside the closet, Kenan’s voice came far too smug for someone who had nearly blown his own cover.

"I think he’s onto you, baby."

Your eyes snapped to the closet. "Shut up and get out before he comes back."

Kenan slipped out, grinning like he had won something. His hair was already an absolute mess, and as he tugged his hoodie back into place, he looked disgustingly pleased with himself.

"Still worth it," he muttered, far too casual for someone who had just been shoved into a closet like a scandalous love affair in a bad rom-com.

You glared, unimpressed. "You’re the worst."

Kenan leaned down, tilting his head just slightly, voice low and teasing. "Go cuddle with Antoine then."

Your mouth opened, ready to deliver something truly scathing, but before you could—

He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek and slipped toward the window.

…

The stadium buzzed with anticipation, the crisp night air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the more questionable aromas of stadium food—the kind that always smelled five-star but tasted like regret. Fans waved scarves and banners, their collective energy contagious, a living, breathing force of excitement.

You, Vini, and Julián had arrived early, settling into your usual seats in the VIP box, which offered a prime view of the pitch. Jude, Kenan, and Arda were warming up, all sharp movements and pre-match focus. Vini, still sidelined with his injury, lounged comfortably like a man who had fully embraced the perks of forced rest. Julián, meanwhile, had no real stake in this game—his Atlético Madrid loyalties firmly intact—but had shown up under the universal rule of football friendships: when your boys play, you support.

It should have felt normal—just another match, just another night watching your brother do what he did best. But from the moment the whistle blew, your gaze found him. Not Jude, not the movement of the game as a whole—but Kenan. 

You told yourself you were just watching the match, same as everyone else. But the way your eyes tracked Kenan’s every step made it painfully obvious that this had very little to do with football.

Watching him play like this—so completely in his element, entirely untouchable—felt a little like staring directly at the sun. You weren’t supposed to. It was bad for you. But even knowing that, you still couldn’t look away.

And then—Kenan broke loose.

A perfectly timed run, the ball practically glued to his foot, the entire pitch stretching open before him like a red carpet moment he had scripted himself. His acceleration was sharp, effortless, the kind of movement that made defenders rethink their entire career choices. One quick feint, a clean turn, a final ruthless touch—

And the ball was in the back of the net.

The stadium detonated.

Kenan’s name thundered through the stands, fans losing their collective minds, his teammates swarming him in celebration. Hands ruffled his hair, clapped his back, pulled him into the chaos—except Kenan barely acknowledged any of it.

Because Kenan wasn’t looking at them.

His gaze was already cutting through the noise, through the bodies, through the absolute carnage unfolding around him—until it found you.

With all the casual confidence of a man completely unbothered by the tens of thousands of people currently watching, he held your stare for just a second longer than necessary, before lifting his fingers to his lips, sending a small, knowing kiss in your direction.Not exaggerated. Not over-the-top. Just a little something to make sure you saw. A little something to make sure you knew.

And oh, you knew.

Your stomach twisted. Heat crept up your neck. You could feel yourself reacting before you could stop it, before you could school your expression into something resembling normal.

Too late.

Julián, seated next to you, hummed. Low, amused. Maybe even delighted.

And just like that the match was no longer your biggest concern.

…

The hallway outside the locker rooms was a chaotic mix of movement and noise, players filtering in and out, staff giving hurried instructions, and media figures darting around like they had somewhere important to be.

You, Julián, and Vini lingered near the entrance, waiting while the rest of the group finished changing before heading out for dinner.

Vini scrolled through his phone, completely uninterested in anything happening around him.

Julián, however? Julián was watching you.

You pretended not to notice, shifting your weight slightly, fixing your gaze on anything else—the floor, the ceiling, a scuffed mark on the wall that was suddenly very interesting.

But, of course, he wasn’t going to let you off the hook that easily.

"You know," he said casually, shoving his hands into his pockets, voice just low enough to be intentional. "You could just tell him."

Your body went rigid.

"Tell who what?" you asked, feigning confusion as if you didn’t immediately know where this was going.

Julián gave you a look. Not just any look—the kind of look that translated to: don’t even try it.

You swallowed, forcing a nonchalant shrug. "You’re being cryptic."

"And you’re being too obvious," he countered without missing a beat, eyebrow lifting in quiet amusement.

He wasn’t wrong.

Before you could even begin crafting some kind of defense, he sighed, the teasing edge in his voice softening.

"Listen," he said, quieter this time, like he was letting you in on something no one else was supposed to hear. "If you’re happy, you should just be honest."

You hesitated.

Julián wasn’t usually like this. He wasn’t the type to meddle, to pry, to offer unsolicited advice unless he genuinely meant it.

And the fact that he was saying this now—that he was looking at you like he had already figured out everything you were trying so hard to keep to yourself—made something tighten in your chest.

" Julián —"

"Jude will understand," he said simply.

And just like that, your heart stopped. That cracked open something you weren’t prepared to confront yet.

…

Post-match dinners were tradition—good food, good company, and Arda laughing at himself while everyone else berated his more questionable decisions.

But tonight, something felt... off.

And if you had to pinpoint why, it would be the warm weight of Kenan’s hand resting on your thigh under the table.

The restaurant buzzed with post-game energy—clattering plates, bursts of laughter, the scent of grilled meat and fresh bread.

For a while, everything felt normal.

You and Kenan were just sitting next to each other. It wasn’t unusual. No one had batted an eye when you slid into the seat beside him. There was no reason to think twice about the way his knee brushed against yours a little too often or how, at some point, his hand had found its way to your thigh. The contact was warm, steady, deliberate in a way that made it impossible to ignore, but subtle enough that it would have gone unnoticed by anyone not looking for it.

Jude wasn’t suspicious. At least, not yet.

You frowned as Kenan stole a fry from your plate, grinning at your outraged expression as he dodged your attempt to swat at his hand. 

Somewhere between that and the next bite, you had started laughing a little too much, leaning in a little too easily.

Then came the real mistake.

Without thinking, without even realizing what you were doing, you reached over and fed Kenan a piece of food from your plate.

He didn’t bat an eye, didn’t move to stop you. He just took the bite like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The moment your fork landed back on your plate, Jude’s eyes found yours.

His brows furrowed. His gaze narrowed, expression shifting as though his brain was struggling to make sense of something that wasn’t quite clicking.

You could almost see it happening in real time, the slow mental process of realization beginning to piece itself together.

And in a moment of sheer, blind panic, Kenan—quick as ever—turned to Arda and, with zero hesitation, lifted a forkful of food to his mouth.

And fed him a bite straight from his plate. With complete eye contact. A hand under his chin for dramatic effect. Like he had been planning it all along.

Arda, to his eternal credit, didn’t miss a beat.

He sighed dreamily, tilting his head slightly as if this was some grand romantic moment before murmuring, “Finally, some love and appreciation.”

The entire table erupted into laughter. And just like that—crisis, momentarily avoided.

Jude, momentarily thrown off the scent, shook his head and rolled his eyes. "God, you two are annoying."

You exhaled.

Kenan’s hand, still resting on your thigh, squeezed once before relaxing again.

Suddenly, with loud steps, Antoine walked in.

Late as usual, he carried himself with the kind of lazy confidence that came from always assuming he was welcome, flashing his signature smirk as he slid into the empty seat across from Kenan. His gaze flicked across the table, already amused, already scanning for his next source of entertainment, before landing directly on you.

"Did I miss anything?" he asked, tone casual, but his eyes sharp.

Vini barely looked up. "You missed Kenan and Arda having a moment."

Arda, ever the performer, turned toward Kenan, winking like they had been caught in a scandalous affair.

"I’d happily do it again."

Antoine’s brow lifted in mild curiosity. "Do I want to know?"

"No," Julián muttered before taking a sip of his drink.

Antoine smirked, leaning forward slightly.

And then—he turned to you.

"Good to see you again," he said, tone just smooth enough to be irritating. "Didn’t know you were coming tonight."

Your body reacted before your mind did, the subtle shift of tension tightening across your shoulders, the momentary hesitation before you answered. It was small, barely noticeable, but enough for Kenan’s fingers to flex against your thigh under the table.

Antoine, oblivious, continued.

"Been a while, huh?" His voice had that same practiced charm, the kind that could talk its way in and out of just about anything.

You forced a polite smile. "Not long enough."

Arda snorted into his drink.

Antoine, entirely unbothered, let his grin stretch wider. "Whatever you say, beautiful."

The words settled over the table like a misplaced knife, sharp, unnecessary, and completely unwelcome.

You felt Kenan’s grip on your thigh tightening—not possessively, not obviously, but enough. Enough that you knew this was the exact moment his patience expired.

Antoine, blissfully unaware of the impending disaster, leaned back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh.

"You know, I was thinking—"

"You? Thinking?"

Kenan clearly wasn’t the only one who had lost his patience for Antoine.

Jude’s voice sliced through the conversation like a cold blade, stopping whatever Antoine had planned to say before it even left his mouth.

Antoine blinked, caught off guard.

The shift in Jude’s demeanor was immediate, the air around him suddenly weighted with something just serious enough to silence whatever playful deflection Antoine might have had planned.

"Clearly you can’t, or you’d remember she’s off-limits."

The weight of the words hung between them, unchallenged.

Antoine scoffed. "Oh, come on—"

"I don’t care." Jude’s voice never wavered.

Antoine stiffened, his usual lazy confidence faltering.

Arda, ever the hero, ever the breaker of tension, propped his chin on his hand and made a kissy face at Jude.

"Thank God there’s another Bellingham who isn’t off-limits."

It took a second, but then the entire table exploded into laughter, the relief of the tension being broken visible on all faces.

Even Jude, despite himself, exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

Antoine, thoroughly humiliated, sank into his seat.

Kenan reached for his drink, finally looking at peace.

And you?

You just exhaled, yet the weight on your shoulders hadn’t fully dissolved yet. 

...

The night air had a crisp edge to it, the kind that made everything feel a little more defined, a little more present. The streets had quieted, save for the occasional burst of laughter from passing groups and the distant hum of traffic rolling through the city. A leftover energy from the match still clung to the air, lingering in the spaces between streetlights and the faint glow of shop windows.

Jude had just left for some girl’s place, tossing you a lazy wave over his shoulder before sliding into the backseat of a taxi, completely unaware of what—or rather, who—he was leaving behind.

Now, it was just you and Kenan.

The two of you walked in sync, footsteps falling into an easy rhythm against the pavement, the kind of silent coordination that came naturally when you spent enough time around someone. Neither of you spoke for a while, but the quiet wasn’t uncomfortable. It was settled, familiar, charged in a way that didn’t require words.

Kenan was the first to break the silence.

“You know,” he mused, his hands shoved in his pockets, his voice carrying that usual casualness, though there was something softer beneath it, something more careful. “I realized something tonight.”

You glanced at him, raising a brow. “And what’s that?”

He tilted his head slightly, considering. “I don’t actually know how you see the world.”

The comment made you blink, caught off guard. “What?”

Kenan smirked, but it wasn’t teasing—not in the way he usually was. “I know how you react. I know how you argue. I know the way your mind works when you’re scheming something, the way you roll your eyes when you think someone’s being an idiot. But I don’t know what you dream about. I don’t know what you think about when it’s just you and your own thoughts.”

His words sent something warm curling through your chest, something that felt an awful lot like being seen in a way you weren’t sure you were ready for.

You narrowed your eyes, lips twitching. “That’s already quite the character study. What else is left?”

Kenan’s grin widened. “That you’re stubborn, that you were a menace growing up, and that you have god-awful taste in movies.”

You gasped, scandalized. “First of all, I do not have god-awful taste in movies—”

Kenan hummed, feigning deep thought. “You like that one rom-com with the guy who—”

“It’s a cinematic masterpiece, and you will respect it,” you shot back, jabbing a finger at his chest.

His laugh was warm, deep, cutting through the cool night like a melody you’d heard before and wanted to hear again.

But then, after a beat, his voice softened. “I mean it,” he said, quieter now. “Tell me about you.”

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to, but because no one ever really asked. Your entire life had existed in orbit around someone else’s story, in the shadow of football pitches and expectations, always introduced as Jude’s sister before being anything else.

But standing here, under the dim glow of streetlights, Kenan wasn’t looking at you like someone else’s sister.

He was looking at you. Like he wanted to know. Like he wanted to understand who you were beyond the spaces you filled for other people.

So, you told him.

About your dreams, your ambitions, the things you wanted that had nothing to do with football or being tethered to a world you hadn’t exactly chosen. About how you had always been restless, always searching for something that felt just out of reach, never quite sure what it was supposed to be. About the weight of constantly being seen as an extension of someone else instead of just you.

And Kenan listened.

Not in the way most people did, waiting for their turn to speak, but fully, completely. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t tease, didn’t try to fix anything. He just walked beside you, nodding now and then, his expression unreadable but focused, present, engaged.

Then, when you finally ran out of words, when you had spilled more than you had planned to, he stopped walking.

You turned to face him, and his gaze didn’t waver.

There was something warm in his eyes, something deliberate, something that made your stomach twist in a way you weren’t sure you could name.

“I don’t want to keep sneaking around,” he said, straightforward, unwavering.

Your breath caught. The easiest response would have been to joke, to throw back something sarcastic, something that made this feel less serious than it was.

But you couldn’t. Not this time.

Instead, your voice came out quieter than expected. “Me neither.”

Kenan exhaled, like he had been holding onto that breath for too long.

He stepped closer, slow and measured, his presence surrounding you in a way that made the rest of the world fade into background noise. “We’ll tell him,” he murmured. “After this weekend.”

You hesitated—not because you weren’t sure, but because—

“Jude’s going to kill you,” you whispered, the ghost of a smile playing at your lips.

Kenan tilted his head, grin forming. “Think he’ll make it quick?”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “Probably not.”

“Damn,” he sighed, like he was genuinely considering the odds. “Guess we better make the most of it while I still have my limbs.”

…

The morning unfolded slowly, wrapped in that golden kind of stillness that came after a night where nothing was rushed, nothing was hidden, and nothing felt like a mistake.

You stirred awake gradually, the soft glow of daylight stretching through the curtains, dusting the room in muted warmth. The duvet was tangled around your legs, the air comfortably heavy, and Kenan’s arm draped over your waist, solid and warm, his grip loose but unwavering.

For a moment, you didn’t move.

Still caught in the haze between sleep and wakefulness, your mind felt foggy, your body relaxed, completely enveloped in the weight of him against your back. His breath was slow and steady, lips barely grazing your bare shoulder, the steady rise and fall of his chest in perfect rhythm with yours.

There was something easy about it. Something natural, like neither of you needed to rush back into reality just yet.

Like the rest of the world could wait.

Kenan stirred behind you, inhaling deeply as he shifted, his fingers pressing lightly against your stomach before relaxing again—like his body refused to let go, even in sleep.

Then, soft and half-mumbled against your skin, a voice still thick with sleep—

“Mmm… morning, baby.”

You turned your head slightly, catching the way his lashes fluttered against his cheekbones, the drowsy heaviness still clinging to his green eyes, barely open, barely awake.

“Morning,” you murmured, voice quieter than intended.

Kenan exhaled a slow, contented sigh before burying his face into the crook of your neck, his forehead pressing against your shoulder for just a moment, as if delaying the inevitable need to get up.

Neither of you moved for a while, tangled in the sheets, limbs draped over each other in a way that didn’t feel stolen or temporary anymore—just right. The silence was filled with soft sighs, half-hearted murmurs about starting the day, Kenan groaning dramatically every time you even suggested getting up.

It took twenty more minutes of coaxing, a promise of coffee, and an absurd amount of effort to finally untangle yourself from him.

Which somehow led to Kenan, standing in your kitchen, sleeves pushed up lazily, completely in your space—eerily familiar to the first time you two met.

"You just gonna stand there and look pretty, or are you actually going to help?" you teased, casting him a glance over your shoulder as you reached for the pan.

Kenan smirked, arms crossed over his chest, the definition of amused. “I thought I was the guest here.”

You rolled your eyes. “I must have missed the part where guests show up like stray cats and never leave.”

Kenan snickered, stepping closer, his presence pressing against yours without even touching you.

"Can’t help it," he muttered, reaching past you to grab a knife from the counter, his hand grazing yours in the process.

Your breath hitched.

It was such a small thing—barely even a touch. But the air between you shifted, thickened, like neither of you quite knew how to handle it now that there were no rules left to break.

Kenan didn’t move away.

He tilted his head slightly, studying you, something soft and unreadable flickering behind his expression.

“I like this.”

You blinked. “Like what?”

He glanced around—at you, at the kitchen, at the quiet ease of the morning—before a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“This,” he murmured. “Mornings with you.”

…

By noon, Kenan was lacing up his shoes, bag slung over his shoulder, the usual ease in his movements feeling just a little more forced. Neither of you had said it out loud, but the reluctance hung between you, stretching out the seconds, making something as routine as leaving for training feel heavier than it should.

You leaned against the doorframe, arms loosely crossed, watching him stall in the smallest ways—adjusting his bag, running a hand through his hair, double-checking his phone. It wasn’t subtle, and you weren’t about to call him out for it, because truthfully, you didn’t want him to go either.

His hand reached for the door handle, fingers grazing the cool metal, but instead of pushing it open, he hesitated. The pause wasn’t long, but it was enough.

He turned back.

His gaze settled on you, lingering for a beat longer than necessary, something unreadable in his expression. Without a word, he stepped forward, his fingers curling lightly under your jaw, thumb tracing absently along your cheekbone.

He slowly leaned in, lips warm against yours, moving with easy confidence, unhurried but unwilling to be cut short. His palm moved to your hips, pressing lightly against, fingers flexing like he wanted to pull you closer but knew he shouldn’t.

When he pulled back, his gaze flickered over your face, taking in every detail before a small, quiet smirk ghosted across his lips.

"You make it really hard to leave," he murmured.

A quiet exhale slipped past your lips. "Then don’t."

Kenan let out a soft laugh, more resigned than amused, like he knew exactly how impossible that suggestion was. His fingers lingered against your skin for just a second longer before he pressed a final kiss to your forehead.

Neither of you noticed the figure standing just a few feet away.

Neither of you caught the subtle shift in Kenneth’s expression, the way his arms crossed over his chest, gaze locked onto you both with an undeniable edge of amusement.

But when he saw Kenan kiss you—

Something clicked.

His lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.

And just like that—

A plan was beginning to form.

…

Vini Jr’s birthday getaway was supposed to be a break—one night away from the noise, the obligations, the endless cycle of training and matches. Just twenty-four hours to indulge, unwind, and embrace the illusion that their schedules weren’t already mapped out for months in advance.

And for the first few hours, that’s exactly what it was.

The cabin was absurdly over-the-top, the kind of place that looked like it belonged in a luxury travel magazine. Nestled deep in the countryside with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a valley, it had everything—an infinity pool, a sauna, a hot tub, and a very charming fire pit outside. Every detail had been planned with precision, a testament to the fact that Vini took his birthdays far too seriously.

It was meant to be a night of doing absolutely nothing except lounging around, eating too much. It was one of those nights that felt effortless, where nothing needed to be said aloud because the comfort of familiarity spoke for itself. The kind of night where everything felt easy—like nothing could go wrong.

And then, Vini Jr—sentimental by nature, twice as bad when exhausted and warm from whiskey—sighed, stretching his legs toward the fire.

“This group means a lot to me,” he murmured, gaze flickering across the room before settling on the flames. “You guys are like my family.”

There were a few small nods of agreement.

Julián, reclining comfortably in an armchair, gave a lazy smile. “Yeah. Feels that way, doesn’t it?”

Arda, sprawled across half the couch with a blanket tangled around his legs, let out a sleepy chuckle. “If we’re family, does that mean I get to be the favorite child?”

“No,” Julián said flatly.

The laughter was soft, easy, unforced—

Until Antoine, sitting just slightly apart from the group, his usual smirk in place, twirling his whiskey glass idly between his fingers, decided to ruin it.

"You’d be surprised how close some people are."

The shift was instant, subtle but undeniable—like the air had dropped a degree.

Jude, who had been half-drowsy, half-listening, barely reacted at first, brows knitting slightly as he processed the words, turning them over in his mind.

“What?” he asked, tone absentminded, not yet realizing he had just stepped into a landmine.

Antoine leaned forward, setting his glass down with slow, deliberate ease, his gaze flicking toward you, then Kenan, then back again.

“Oh, nothing,” he mused, stretching out in his seat. “Just thinking about how you never really know what’s going on right under your nose.”

Your stomach plummeted.

Jude’s expression barely flickered, but the tension in his shoulders shifted, subtle but unmistakable, a sign that he had just caught up to the conversation a second too late.

Vini Jr must have sensed it too, because his voice cut through the air, sharp and warning.

"Antoine."

But Antoine, who had an unsettling grin plastered on his face, wasn’t finished.

“I meant to come apologize after dinner the other night,” he continued, voice mocking, syrupy-slow, words laced with the kind of satisfaction that made your stomach churn.

And then, with a casual, effortless cruelty—

"But then I saw Kenan making out with your sister."

Silence.

Like the room itself had just swallowed all the air.

Jude didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t even react.

Just sat perfectly still, eyes locked onto nothing in particular, face so unreadable it almost looked blank.

Like his brain had short-circuited, too stuck between disbelief and fury to process anything at all.

When he looked up his eyes met yours. His jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it might crack under the pressure. 

"Tell me he's lying."

His voice was quiet, low—but lethal.

A final chance.

A last, desperate lifeline—one last opportunity to prove that Antoine was just being a smug, conniving bastard.

But you had nothing to give him.

"Jude, I—” You faltered, voice paper-thin, cracking under the weight of what was coming. “There… might be something going on.”

Another silence.

But this one was worse.

Thicker.

Final.

Like the ground itself had just cracked open beneath your feet.

Jude’s expression didn’t shift. Didn’t change. Didn’t flicker. It was still terrifyingly blank.

"Oh, come on, Jude," Arda groaned, breaking the tension like he hadn’t just stepped into the eye of a hurricane.“Don’t be mad, they’re actually kinda cute.”

A ripple of uneasy laughter skated across the room.

Vini Jr sat up, clearing his throat. “Kenan’s a good guy, man. You know that.”

Jude’s head snapped so fast you almost thought he’d get whiplash. His gaze darted from Arda to Vini Jr to Julián, like he was waiting for someone—anyone—to tell him he wasn’t crazy.

That he had every right to feel betrayed.

That this was completely, utterly wrong.

But no one did.

His voice came out sharp, brittle at the edges. "So, what? You’re all just fine with this?”

Julián hesitated before exhaling heavily. “Well… yeah?”

Jude blinked. Slowly.

Like he was waiting for the universe to right itself.

It didn’t.

Arda, shooting Kenan an empathic look, sighed. “I mean, it’s not like they killed someone, Jude.”

"That’s not the point!" Jude’s voice rose suddenly, snapping with a rough edge. “I had one rule. Just one.”

The words hit you square in the chest, knocking the breath out of you.

And then—

Something shifted in his face.

Like a much, much worse realization had just landed.

His jaw locked, eyes narrowing.

"Wait."

The single word was a trigger, a warning, a countdown to something that was about to explode.

His gaze flickered across the room. “Did you guys already know?”

Silence.

And then—

Julián sighed. “I mean…”

Arda awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “I might have figured it out.”

Vini Jr, ever the most unbothered, hummed. “I had my suspicions.”

Jude inhaled sharply.

"You—" He cut himself off, jaw tightening like he was physically forcing himself to stay composed.

And then—

He let out a sharp, humorless laugh.

Bitter. Cold.

"Unbelievable."

His gaze snapped back to Kenan, something dark flashing through it.

"You. You knew how I felt about this. About my teammates—my friends—going near her."

Kenan’s jaw was tight, his entire body tense, rigid.

"I didn’t plan for this to happen," he said, evenly, carefully.

“So?” Jude scoffed. "That makes it better?"

Kenan hesitated. Then, softly, quietly—

“No. It doesn’t.”

Jude let out a sharp, unsteady breath, pushing up from his seat so fast that the blanket draped over his lap slipped to the floor.

“I need to clear my head.”

And just like that—he walked out.

The room stayed frozen, the embers in the fireplace popping softly, the only sound breaking the crushing weight of his absence.

Kenan didn’t move.

Didn’t look at anyone.

Just sat there, hands clasped in front of him, staring at the door Jude had disappeared through like he was already mourning something he couldn’t bring back.

Finally he exhaled. “I should go.”

“No.” Vini’s voice was firm.

But Kenan just shook his head, already rising to his feet.

“He’s my friend,” he said simply, voice quieter now, the tension in his body starting to unwind into something that looked an awful lot like regret.

“And I crossed a line. I don’t want to stay here and make it worse.”

Vini sighed, dragging a hand down his face.

Then—his eyes flickered to Antoine, and his entire expression changed.

“You, however?” His tone turned sharp, unforgiving. “You can get the hell out.”

Antoine scoffed. “Oh, come on—”

“I mean it,” Vini snapped, patience gone. “You don’t get to sit here and act like this wasn’t a game to you. You wanted to cause damage—and you did."

Antoine rolled his eyes, standing up and grabbing his jacket.

And then, with one last lingering glance at you and Kenan—

He was gone.

The silence around the now nearly burned-out fire was deafening. 

Arda exhaled. “Well, that could’ve gone better.”

Julián gave you and Kenan a sympathetic look. “For what it’s worth, we never thought it was wrong. Just… complicated.”

Vini clapped Kenan on the shoulder. “Jude will come around. He just needs time.”

Kenan didn’t say anything.

Just nodded, his jaw tight, gaze distant.

Then—he turned to you, eyes softening for just a second.

“I’ll pack my bag.”

And with that, he was gone too.

…

The warmth of the day had long faded, leaving behind a crisp chill that clung to your skin, but you barely felt it.

You sat on the porch steps, arms wrapped around yourself, staring out at the darkness beyond the trees, replaying every second of what had happened inside.

The way Jude had looked at you—like he didn’t recognize you.

Your stomach twisted painfully. You and Kenan had agreed—you would tell Jude together, do it the right way. But now, the choice had been ripped from you. Antoine had done it for you, cruelly, deliberately, stripping you of any control. Instead of sitting Jude down, instead of explaining it carefully, you had been exposed—caught like some dirty little secret.

Now, it was out in the open. And everything felt ruined.

The door creaked open behind you. Footsteps on the wooden planks.

You didn’t turn. Didn’t need to.

Kenan settled beside you, close enough that you could feel his warmth without touching. For weeks, he had made you feel safe. But tonight, there was no safety. No reassurance. Just the wreckage of what you had built.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

Then—

“I should have told him right away,” Kenan murmured.

You swallowed hard. “We both should have.”

Kenan exhaled sharply. “I knew exactly how this would go. I knew how he’d react, and still—I let myself believe it would be fine.”

His gaze was locked on the horizon, jaw clenched, hands tightening into fists. “Maybe Antoine did it to be an ass, but it doesn’t change the fact that I let this happen. That I knew this could ruin things, and I…” He inhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head.

His voice broke slightly.

And you knew—he wasn’t just talking about Jude.

Kenan exhaled, finally turning his head to look at you.

And your stomach dropped.

Because for the first time in weeks, he looked conflicted. Not just guilty. Not just sorry. But like he was standing on the edge of something and deciding whether to jump—or walk away.

“I love you.”

Soft. Barely a whisper. But it hit you like a punch to the gut.

Because this wasn’t how he was supposed to say it. Not like this. Not in the quiet of the aftermath, when everything was already slipping away.

Your breath hitched, vision blurring slightly, but you forced yourself to swallow past the lump in your throat. If this was the end—if you had to let him go—then at least he would know

You reached out, fingers trembling slightly as you cupped his face, memorizing the warmth of his skin.

“I love you too.”

Kenan exhaled, ragged, forehead pressing against yours. His hands cradled the back of your neck like he couldn’t quite believe what you had just said.

For a few stolen seconds, neither of you moved. Neither of you breathed. Just sat there, foreheads touching, eyes closed, existing in the space of what could have been.

Then Kenan pulled back, and you felt it.

“I don’t want you to pick between me or your family,” he murmured.

Your chest caved in on itself. “Don’t say that.”

Kenan let out a soft, bitter laugh. “Come on, baby.”

He called you that one last time, like he knew he wouldn’t be saying it again. His thumb brushed your cheek, one final touch, like he was committing the moment to memory.

“You should stay.”

Your stomach plummeted.

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head, tears well and truly spilling over now.

Kenan smiled, but it was small, sad, something entirely different from the ones he used to give you. “You know I’m right.”

You bit your lip, shaking your head, desperate. “I don’t care.”

Kenan exhaled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, lingering just long enough for it to hurt.

“You do,” he murmured against your skin.

And that was the worst part—because he was right.

Kenan had known what this would cost before you did. And that was why he was doing what you couldn’t bring yourself to do, why he was making the choice you refused to face.

A lump formed in your throat. “This isn’t fair.”

Kenan’s smile barely touched his lips. “Nothing about this was ever fair.”

You shut your eyes, but it didn’t stop the warmth trailing down your cheek. Kenan caught the tear with his thumb, unbearably gentle, as if this moment wasn’t already unraveling you.

And then—he stepped back.

And you knew.

This was it.

The moment he walked away.

Kenan adjusted his bag, glancing at you one last time before slipping his hands into his pockets and making his way down the steps. His shoulders were tense, his pace unhurried, but he didn’t look back.

And if you had glanced up, just for a second, you would have seen the faint glow of light filtering through the open window above the porch.

Would have seen Jude lying awake in bed, unmoving, his expression unreadable.

He had heard every word.

…

The stadium pulsed with energy—chants, stomping, the distant crackle of flares. The air smelled of freshly cut grass, laced with smoke drifting from the passionate sections of the crowd.

To most, this was just another match. Another ninety minutes under the floodlights.

For you, it was something else.

The first game since everything had fallen apart. Since Kenan walked away. Since you let him.

You sat stiffly in the private box, wedged between Vini Jr. and Julián, a cup of cold coffee cradled between your hands. Your eyes weren’t on the game.

They were on him.

Kenan stood on the pitch, clad in his Real Madrid kit, shoulders squared. To the world, he looked composed. You knew better. His jaw was too tight, his shoulders held tension that shouldn’t be there.

His gaze swept the stands until it found you. A fraction of hesitation. A flicker of something before he forced himself to turn away.

Julián muttered, “You’re staring.”

You blinked. “Was not.”

“Right,” he drawled. “And I’m a Barcelona fan.”

Jude hadn’t really spoken to you since that night. He had seen it—the way you barely ate, stayed in your room too long, weren’t yourself. Watching you now, staring at Kenan like you had already lost—he knew.

And on the pitch, it showed.

Kenan was off. His passes lacked precision, his movement hesitated. Jude, too. He wasn’t playing poorly, but you saw the difference.

Vini exhaled. “This isn’t them.”

You weren’t just watching two footballers struggle. You were watching two boys trying to push through something bigger than the game. And failing.

…

Halftime.

Kenan barely made it three steps into the tunnel before a hand gripped his arm, pulling him to a stop. His entire body tensed, bracing instinctively for a confrontation, expecting a sharp word, maybe even another shove.

But when he turned and met Jude’s gaze, something in him stilled.

Because Jude didn’t look angry.

He didn’t look like he was about to start another fight, didn’t look like he was holding onto resentment or betrayal.

He just looked… tired.

Kenan swallowed, exhaling slowly as Jude crossed his arms, studying him like he was weighing something in his head.

"You care about her."

It wasn’t a question.

Kenan’s jaw clenched, but he nodded without hesitation.

"I do."

Jude didn’t blink. His expression remained unreadable, sharp but not hostile, as if he was searching for any sign of doubt, any hesitation, anything that would confirm his worst fears.

"No, I mean, you really care about her."

Kenan’s chest tightened, his pulse drumming against his ribs.

But still, there was no pause when he spoke.

"More than anything."

Jude let out a long breath, dragging a hand down his face like this realization had just knocked the wind out of him.

"I was an idiot," he muttered, shaking his head. "I should’ve known earlier. She’s been miserable all week. So have I. And so have you."

Kenan didn’t answer.

Because there was nothing to say.

Jude sighed again, quieter this time, voice losing its edge.

"Listen to me," he said, meeting Kenan’s eyes with a look that left no room for misinterpretation. "If you ever mess this up—if you ever hurt her—" he paused, letting the weight of it settle, "you are done for."

Kenan nodded immediately. "I won’t."

Jude held his gaze for another long moment, assessing, deciding.

Then, finally, finally, he nodded.

"Then you have my blessing."

The words hit harder than Kenan expected.

His shoulders relaxed instantly, the tension he had been carrying for weeks lifting all at once, and for the first time in days, he could actually breathe.

The relief was overwhelming—so much so that before he could even think, before he could talk himself out of it—

He pulled Jude into a hug.

Jude stiffened immediately.

Then—he sighed. Loud. Dramatic. "Alright, alright, enough of this."

Kenan grinned, pulling back, the tightness in his chest easing completely.

Jude gave him a long-suffering look before muttering, half amused, half resigned—

"Kind of glad it’s you if it has to be any of my mates." A pause. "Still kinda weird, though."

Kenan laughed, the sound lighter than it had been in weeks.

And just like that, the weight of everything else—the tension, the guilt, the uncertainty—faded into the background.

Jude clapped him on the shoulder, nodding toward the tunnel. "Go play like yourself."

…

Where the first half had been marked by hesitation, the second half ignited with purpose. The tension that had clouded the match lifted, replaced by a sharp, relentless drive. And at the center of it all—Kenan.

From the moment the whistle blew, he was everywhere. Every pass landed with precision, every touch carried confidence, every movement had the unmistakable ease of a player who had just remembered exactly who he was. It was as if something inside him had settled, like the weight of the past few weeks had finally lifted.

Jude’s words in the tunnel had done more than clear the air. They had set him free.

Kenan played like a man with nothing to hold him back, his rhythm returning in full force. His movements were sharp, impossible to predict, his speed cutting through defenders before they even knew what was happening. The energy was infectious—his teammates fed off it, the crowd roared for it, the entire game shifted because of it.

Two minutes left on the clock. One last counterattack.

The stadium held its breath as Kenan surged forward, the ball at his feet, his body moving with instinctive precision. The defenders scrambled to stop him, but he was faster, sharper, weaving past them with practiced ease.

The goal was right there.

He didn’t hesitate.

One clean, powerful strike—

The ball sailed past the keeper.

And hit the back of the net.

Kenan barely had time to react before his teammates crashed into him, grabbing at his jersey, shaking him, shouting in pure elation. The weight of the game, of the past few weeks, of everything—gone in an instant.

And you?

You didn’t even realize you had jumped to your feet, hands pressed over your mouth, laughter spilling out in pure, unfiltered exhilaration. Your heart was pounding, the adrenaline coursing through you as you stared down at the pitch, at him.

Kenan turned, still surrounded by his teammates, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. But he wasn’t looking at them. He was looking for you.

And the second his gaze found yours, the rest of the world fell away.

His hands lifted, his fingers shaping a heart.

Right at you.

Your breath hitched, something flipping violently in your stomach, the moment pulling so tight you could feel it in your bones.

A hundred thoughts flashed through your mind. Jude. What if he saw? What if—

But then Jude jogged over to Kenan and patted him on the back, before tilting his head up to the box—

And smiling at you.

The tightness in your chest unraveled, the last few weeks dissolving in an instant.

Jude was telling you, without words, without spectacle, in the quietest, most Jude way possible that everything was okay.

The final whistle blew, Real’s victory confirmed, and the stadium exploded into celebration.

Your feet carried you down the stands before you could talk yourself out of it, weaving through the crowd, pushing past security, slipping through the barriers until your shoes hit the pitch.

The world around you was a blur of flashing cameras, roaring fans, falling confetti—

None of it mattered. You only saw one thing.

Kenan.

Still in the center of the pitch, still wrapped in the aftermath of victory—teammates cheering, hands clapping against his back, voices shouting over each other in celebration.

But Kenan wasn’t listening.

His eyes were searching.

And the second he saw you, everything else became secondary.

He moved through the crowd with quiet determination, each stride measured, gaze fixed on you like there was nowhere else he was supposed to be. There was no hesitation, no doubt—just certainty.

The second he reached you, his hands found your waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of your jacket, warm and steady. His forehead brushed against yours, the ghost of a breath passing between you, his grip anchoring you to him like he had no intention of letting go.

And then—his lips were on yours.

There was nothing tentative about it, no room for second-guessing.

The way he kissed you was deliberate, like he had been craving this moment long enough and wasn’t about to waste it. He tasted like adrenaline and triumph, his fingers tightening against you as though to make sure you were really there.

The stadium noise melted into something distant, unimportant. It was just the two of you, caught in the heady mix of exhaustion, relief, and something deeper—something neither of you could deny anymore.

Still breathless, you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, the flicker of a smile ghosting across his lips.

“So, since we’re all feeling sentimental, should I kiss you too?” Arda stood a few steps away, grinning as he clapped Jude on the shoulder, eyes alight with mischief.

Jude recoiled instantly, baffled. “Absolutely not.”

Arda clutched his chest in exaggerated offense. “Wow. Rejected just like that. No hesitation.”

Laughter rippled through the team, light and easy, the weight of the last few weeks dissolving into something less complicated.

Jude exhaled, shaking his head.

But this time he was smiling.

For real.

[icrytearsofsadness]

Billy’s got Steve all pressed up against the Beemer when he says it.

“This is the last time, Hargrove,” he pants, putting his hand on Billy’s chest. “Last time.”

Billy thinks for a moment it sounds serious. Because Steve’s looking at him like it is, and because he hasn’t said that in a while. But he used to say it all the time – every time, in fact. Liar. Billy may be an asshole but Steve’s a huge fucking liar.

So he sort of huffs a laugh and presses back in against Steve’s hand and drawls “whatever you say, Harrington” because Steve’s a liar.

Steve indulges him in another kiss before he tries to speak again. “I’m serious,” he groans when Billy starts working down his throat.

“Sure you are, pretty boy. Just like all the other times,” Billy replies, a bit too focused on working open Steve’s shirt to come up with something meaner.

“I,” Steve starts, then gives a little breathless moan when Billy grinds their hips together. He tries again. “I found someone.”

That makes Billy pause, though only for a moment. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Steve’s fingers are working on Billy’s belt. “Someone I think I wanna be serious about.”

Billy’s glad his face is buried in Steve’s neck so Steve can’t see him wince. Because yeah, Billy’s not the type of person Steve wants to be serious with. And he knows that. But it still kind of stings, every time.

Still. He presses Steve back firmer into the Beemer and tugs his shirt out from where it’s tucked into his jeans. Steve’s done this a few times, gone and gotten serious with some girl. He always comes crawling back.

“Well, when you get bored of this chick – ”

Steve gets Billy’s belt open with a little groan. “Not a chick.”

Billy stops.

This is new.

“What?”

“Not a…” Steve huffs. Tugs impatiently at the waist of Billy’s jeans. “It’s a guy.”

And holy shit, Steve’s serious.

He means it.

This is the last time.

Billy takes a whole step back, eyes kind of wide, staring at Steve. Steve whines, because he’s used to getting what he wants, spoiled rich boy that he is. For once, Billy’s not sure he wants to give it to him.

“You’re serious,” Billy says, and his voice sounds kind of hollow.

Steve blinks at him like he’s confused, all soft doe eyes. “So?” he pouts, because Billy’s never reacted like this before.

But Steve’s never done this before. Never tried to get serious with a guy. Which means it’s not about being queer. It’s not that Steve only wants to be serious with a girl, with someone he can marry, someone he can show off.

The problem isn’t with guys.

It’s with Billy.

Shame and embarrassment and anger curl ugly in Billy’s chest. He’s sliding his belt back into place before he really registers what he’s doing.

Steve’s frown deepens, really pouting now. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m going home,” Billy replies gruffly.

“What? Why?”

Billy shakes his head, and turns to leave.

“Billy,” Steve calls, and he sounds genuinely confused. “Billy, stop.”

But Billy doesn’t want to hear it. He doesn’t want to look at Steve right now. Because Billy is the problem. And if he’s gonna fucking cry, it’s gonna be far, far away from Steve Harrington.

Steve’s getting frustrated, because he snaps after him, “You’re wasting your last chance!”

“Goodbye, Steve,” Billy replies, a bit mean, a bit flat, and doesn’t look back.

[renguro]

Now that S2 is almost over, I wanted to finally get out that post talking about all of the insights and things I did, learned, or other fun stuff about the countdown pieces I made. I still have something in mind for the S2 finale, so maybe if you read (or skip) to the end I'll have a preview for you?

Oh god here we go One day I was coming home from work and decided to check how many days there were until the new season released and I found it was 7 days. So I did all of these in 7 days. Literally everyone was worried about me because I did nothing but draw for those 7 days.

... Except for when I went back to work. I worked I came home and then drew until I literally couldn't anymore lmao. I remember being dazed and exhausted after the Clock Keepers and my dad came up to my room literally right as I finished and asked, "Have you gone to sleep?" And I said, "NOPE! :D" I was living on energy drinks

I'm also 90% sure this started the "ren you're doing too much you need to chill the hell out" thing with me and my friends now

When I was doing these, I had only read the first ten volumes of Hanako-kun at the time, so I was stopped right in the middle of Picture Perfect. I had the second box set, but I just hadn't gotten the time to read it since I got it for Christmas. That means I didn't know Shijima's full deal, and I didn't even know Hakubo's name, so I was winging it hard.

All of the full pieces are linked by clicking their names :)

NO.7 HANAKO

You can tell from the speedpaint I was struggling hard with the pose lmao. I honestly felt like the one I chose was a cop-out and didn't feel energetic enough, but the time crunch got me. At this point, I was also really unsure about how I wanted to treat the colors, because I'd only just started dipping into seriously studying how Aida does it. So many references. And him wearing basically all black didn't help I wanted to scream. I was TRYING to keep everything as solid colors without falling back on overlay and multiply layers, but I got desperate. Still looks pretty good I think.

My favorite part was probably the hakujoudai and the detailing on his collar/shoulders! If I were to edit anything, I think I'd put more on the bottom half of the background because it feels a touch empty. kinda killed it on this pant leg and his hat tho

NO.6 HAKUBO

Like I said, I had no idea who Hakubo was. For the first half of things, I couldn't even find his name, I was just calling him "Shinigami-sama..." I wasn't going to go trampling into spoilers just for references either, so I was freaking out on what to do for the background. All I knew was that there was something to do with lotuses or bugs, and already having an idea of where I'd take Tsuchigomori, I took the lotus route. I uh also hope I didn't make his face too feminine. I don't know why but when drawing male characters who are larger or more built (even if it didn't turn out obvious in this piece) I somehow keep making them look like butches.

Shading his hair was the most fun part out of all of this, I usually never draw characters with hair as short as his, so it was a fun challenge! I'm also just a sucker for kimonos and flowy clothes. He was probably one of the most fun ones for me, even if he was so early on. I LOVE the texture I got on the skull. (even if it's technically too small.)

NO.5 TSUCHIGOMORI

Tsuchigomori onwards ALL used this sticky note full of thumbnails I drew at work for reference. Yes that is a note next to him that says + cuntier. He was also drawn on the same day that I did Hakubo, so I managed to buy myself some extra time.

I was so excited for this one because I could see it so well in my mind's eye, until I realized how many hands I'd need to draw. And then I sucked it up and locked in because I love Tsuchigomori. I'm so pleased with how I worked in more of the blues into the shading and his hair. It was at this point that I think I was understanding how I wanted to take the colors for all of these pieces! I enjoyed doing the fun trick I learned with the weave on his sweater and the spiderwebs where I drew a thick like and then erased the middle. Nearly forgot the markings on his forehead too lmao.

I wonder whose black book he's reading?

NO.4 SHIJIMA

Oh Shijima. I truly had zero real clue about her, and I managed to dodge spoilers about Mei even when I was looking up references. That's why she's painting using her paintbrush clone haha. It's still cute though, so I'm keeping it. Her hair kept giving me trouble because it's the kind of hair you draw and don't really realize just how big you're drawing it until you have to fix it. Actually, I'm having that exact issue on what I'm working on right now, and I'll fix it after I take a break.

I dug up a comment I made while I was working on it and I still stand by this.

There's also something a little odd about the positioning of her chin that I was too exhausted to fix, and I SUPER fudged the coloring on her hair. Also I really didn't know what to put in the background OTHER than the atelier, but I can't really draw buildings! So uh! The exhaustion was beginning to set in after 3 days of this. (Since Hakubo and Tsuchigomori were done on the same day. I didn't keep that time advantage for long though.)

think i fudged it okay, though.

NO.3 MITSUBA

I was struggling on Mitsuba some because that thing where you see/read something and then forget about it only for it to arise as something you think you did happened. That pose I thumbnailed on the sticky note was WAY too close to the official Hell of Mirrors standee/art. Luckily I contain extreme Mitsuba bias (shocker) and I was able to figure it out. I had a ton of problems shading his coat just like I did with Hanako. It's so hard to keep things from melding together when you've mostly got them wearing black.

It's an odd thing to be proud about, but I feel I did the best on the.. Legs of his pants, the chains and lockets, and the eyes and teeth on his jacket. That and the ribcage scarf. I'm really disappointed in myself for the background and his hair, if I'm being honest. I wanna fix his eyes. I STILL haven't figured out his hair either too. Which makes me even more surprised that my friends said, ren, your bias is showing on this one because I was like IS IT??? ARE YOU CERTAIN?

his hand turned out nice too and did i mention i had fun on the ribcage

NO.2 YAKO

I sketched the first initial draft for Yako on the same day I drew Hakubo and Tsuchigomori, but when it finally came time to sit down and draw her? I realized there would be so much empty space where I couldn't have fun with colors and it'd just be the white back of her kimono, so I turned her around and scrapped the idea of her fox form curling around her. I couldn't fit fox Yako in, and I'm STILL kind of bummed about that.

The flow of her hair was so much fun to figure out, as well as the patterns on her kimono. I'm really happy with the background, combining the aspects of the Misaki Stairs' original version and the one after she's been removed from her seat with the spider lilies. The lilies themselves are a little fudged if you look too close, so... Don't look too close? :3

loved the kimono. every bit. can't believe i had her turned around.

NO.1 AKANE/MIRAI/KAKO

MY FAVORITE PART ABOUT THIS WAS THE COGS IN THE BACKGROUND SORRY AKANE'S FACE BOTHERS ME I NEED TO FIX IT ONE DAY HE LOOKS TOO OLD I WAS LOSING MY MIND AND THE EXHAUSTION WAS KILLING ME IT BEGAN MY HATE OF DRAWING AKANE'S HAIR BECAUSE *GESTURES VAGUELY*

Uh okay some good things to say about this one... The colors were a ton of fun to figure out how to place, and I think I at least did a good job on that part. Shading gold things is always really fun! And at least Akane's ponytail was fun to make flow, I was riding the high from Yako's hair here. I think I got a lot of that fun flowy movement in here, which I'm pleased about. This was another one that my friends say turned out the best, again that I'm ??? about.

these cogs are my everything

FINAL THOUGHTS + EXTRAS

All of the kanji's colorings for their numbers were taken directly from the anime! I don't really wanna get rid of that fun reference even if in like, Tsuchigomori's case the colors are REALLY different from the main piece.

Most of the first day was spent on, Hanako of course, and then setting up the frames for everyone else to go into. I spent money to get the patterns to go on the colored part, actually. Constraining everyone to the frames helped a LOT in terms of balancing myself and made it fun to choose what elements would stick outside of them. If I pushed for entire full backgrounds, then I would have been doing even worse.

I was on the ropes at the end. I was half dead and drawing like I was possessed. And the catharsis of it being done and it all looking acceptable just. Ough. I don't know if I'll ever have a high like that again. There's an evil, evil part of me that says, ren! redraw all of them for s3 under the exact same constraints! And shit I might but I'll complain about it. I think it's more likely though that I go back and doctor them up some so I can print them as standees. Probably just for myself, but I do want to build a stock for artist alleys.

I had so, so much fun overall even if it was so much it really could have put my already bad health in more danger. I learned so much about coloring, lineart, framing things, and I really attribute my gauntlet to the explosion in my art progress. That, and my sheer adoration for this series. Am I rambling? I just love TBHK. It's only been 5 months since I first discovered it and it's done so, so much for me.

Even if you went and scrolled through all of this nonsense, which I don't blame you for, here's a little preview of what I'm trying to finish by next week for the finale.

I can't believe we're on the final episode! It's so close now, and it keeps flooring me how little time has really passed. I'll try and push to get SOMETHING else done before then, but we'll see. I've got so much I want and have to get done.

[bunji-enthusiast]

‘And what are you… exactly?’

A/N… mostly just cackling about think how the blorbos would interact with rocket!reader. Invincible as a whole will not leave my mind so I’m making you suffer with me. Formatted as headcanons for my sanity cause insomnia is a BITCH.

Canon-divergent themes, included mention of rocket’s backstory, mentions of past stress, found-family, platonic relationships, generally just you unwillingly forming bonds with trauma-sacked idiots/nsrs/p

Debbie Grayson 

A strong, kind-hearted woman at her core — no doubt. Especially since she’s had to deal with wrangling Mark [in his childhood youth] in particular, and her husband as well, who was quite the character. So one can imagine that she’s seen things. But this was unexpected. 

A literal raccoon. 

“This is new to me.”

“Right, and you didn’t live with an alien for a husband everyday.” 

Debbie chokes on air, taken aback by your comment. But then she divulges, “You’ve known him?” 

“Oh you bet I do!” You grin, arching a brow. “I got all sorts of juicy stuff on the guy.” 

That alone definitely wants her knowing more, and since you were a lover of chaos. You happily obliged to her request, no money wired. 

It was due to circumstances that you ended up having to be around the lady for awhile, but surprisingly enough; you two got along. You could respect her willingness to stand up to others, despite her state as a human. Debbie on the other hand was admittedly shocked when she first saw you, a walking-talking raccoon with the intelligence of a genius. Being able to jury-rig things up in a second, enough to get you out of a sticky situation or just generally being able to empathize for others despite your hot-headed temperament [in defiance of your tendency as a trigger-happy shooter]. 

There were times that you weren’t proud of how you behaved, but seriously, Earth had some genuine pricks. You had no idea how Debbie lived this long, or how she put up with all these people for that matter. There were few humans you genuinely liked, and even fewer super-powered beings.

You had off-handledly mentioned to her once or twice about your past history, what made you become who you are now. Not the entire story however, just a few intricate details. Understanding one another was something you often weren’t in the mood for, but with someone like Debbie, you could feel the sense of resolve and peace within her. So you just sort’ve started forming a bond with the woman. Much to the surprise of anyone else who oversees your interactions. Whenever anyone tries to question how or why this came to be, you always just shrugged it off with a half-assed comment. 

Debbie just… has the most genuine warmth, closest person to a parental figure that you almost had. You didn’t let that thought last long though, you already were almost as old as her — or older than her. But it made sense to you, she’s been through it, and gets it. Even more than other humans you’ve met. 

Though despite your loud and larger than life personality, you still were a small thing – so you always made up for that in other areas. Which gets people to really pay attention to your danger as an enemy. This exceptionally comes to light when you jump to Debbie’s defense [even if you knew she could handle herself, she was a damn good woman and a good friend], hacking off cleverly worded insults against the perpetrator and structured uses of words that no one dared to use. It’s really quite the sight to see when you're riled up on her behalf. 

You were used to being the guy who had to cheer people up, or offer comfort in your own awkward way. Nonetheless, Debbie, ends up being one of the first to actually offer comfort. Despite the fact you were stiff as a fucking board, and she — not being used to actually comforting a literal talking animal who can think and act — made the effort to do so anyway. You hated it at first, but it was nice. Something you never admitted aloud. 

Even in the face of your past history, you put your knowledge to good use: one way was to teach Debbie a few things about technology. Things she could put to use, just to protect herself, or to find things out. You had tried to get her to accept more lethal options, but she gave you a firm ‘no’, so you resolved on non-lethal options. 

Unfortunately you tended to be paranoid at times, so you begged to add in some more safety measures within her house. Moreover, since you weren’t technically under Cecil’s charge, she eventually accepted it. Since you had also given a wide walkthrough of how everything works. 

As a genetically-modified genius, particularly a half-worlder; your conversations with her are few, but very fortunate ones to have. Debbie is far more understanding then you expected in the beginning, but getting to know her was something else entirely. You really like the lady, and wish nothing but good for her and her sons. 

Rex Sloan

A walking human grenade and a genius raccoon with a penchant for shootouts. It tracks, initially you two don’t get along well. But eventually? It’s a diabolical pair-up. You both are snide fuckers, who don’t take shit from authority figures. Everyone else absolutely hates it, however—as much as they hate it, your team-ups elevate the battles to levels that let your entire team gain the upperhand. 

You never thought you’d relate to someone like Rex, but the more you two talk, the more you realize how similar you are. Bettering relationships, mellowed out in terms of hot-headnesses, the augmentations to the body. As much as you hated to admit it, you actually liked the kid. Rex, as far as you knew, was in a bad place — but he had the guts [more than anyone you’ve met in space] to pull himself out. You could respect it, despite his less than favorable actions in the past. But hey, you aren’t a saint either. 

The conversations you engage in with Rex are usually very, very interesting. The subjects are usually diversified, if it wasn’t Rex talking about one thing, it’d be you talking about another. It’s absolutely swell talking to him, you’ve even found yourself laughing at his verbal antics; especially even chuckling before if he talks about someone you both have a strong dislike for. 

You bark out a laugh at his insults, “Damn! You don’t hold back, kid.”

“Asshole deserved it anyways.” Rex grins, a taper of confusion in his expression. “—kinda curious though, how old are you?”

Immediately you blank at his question, blinking offhandedly as you thought about it. ‘How old am I?’ You thought, and you realized — You never counted how old you were. Always too busy being on the run, and collecting bounties. Especially saving the god-flarkin galaxy. 

“Oh my fucking god–” He wheezes, crouching down as he attempts to hold back his laughing fit. “You don’t know? Seriously?”

“Shut up!”

As a hero, he was far more gutsy than a lot of people you’ve seen on Earth. Rex was charming, difficult to get along with sure. But he was a reliable dude in situations of distress, he always had a way of being able to alleviate the stressing aspects into something more manageable. Though his ability to manifest explosions was something that fascinated you greatly, you asked a question or two about it. Rex to say the least was not used to people taking an interest in something like that, he was used to hearing things about his body being used as a weapon [by the same familiar assholes since childhood]. But the way you say it was as if you were just more considerate of his physical health and how he manages it. Definitely something he was confused about for a good long while. 

You taught him a thing or two on how to manage his cybernetic hand, considering that you yourself walk around with a cybernetic skeletal structure. You knew all too well about the discomfort of the possibility of having to rely on someone [or something] you hated, the same agency that essentially diverted the course of one’s life. So you essentially bestowed him with the knowhow on fixing, or otherwise maintaining the ol’ cybernetics. Even if Rex was reluctant about it at first, your help afforded him good faith in you. 

Despite how much you’d attempt to refute it, you developed protective instincts over Rex. He’s someone you want to see living a good life, not having to spend every second on the brink of death. You know he could live a better life for himself, with the people he loves. Though you knew this is what he built his life around, even if it was forced on him. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t help at least mitigate the devastation he goes through 24/7. 

Rex has seen things as a hero obviously, but give him some credit; the last thing he expected was actually talking to and befriending a literal raccoon. Even if you had told him about your prior history with the High Evolutionary, and the experiments, he was still a little weirded out. But he eventually accepted it as normal. Seriously though, you considered paying for his therapy at one point. 

Shapesmith

You’ve had your fair share of interactions with beings of the Martian race [considering you were a traveler of the cosmos], but Shapesmith in particular was a very interesting one. He’s lived as a hero on Earth for a while, and though you haven’t known the shapeshifting being as long as anyone else on the guardians had, he didn’t radiate bad feelings. Not someone you’d find yourself being around often, but he was quite the useful person in battle. You could tell right away if the martian was being disingenuous or honest, dude does not have a bad bone in his body. 

It's not often that you converse with Shapesmith, but he was easy to talk to. Unlike most of the pricks you’ve met so far throughout your travels. Cover his back, and he covers yours. A mutual exchange you could get behind. 

Some of his comments about your being as a raccoon really pissed you off though, however, after some sternly worded corrections from your end — Shapesmith very quickly reworded said comments. Though when you necessitated an apology, mainly from yourself, as you were quick to temper. He was very understanding, which you inherently didn’t expect; as most would be rightfully a little pissed off. Shapesmith was certainly someone to behold, both in experience and living as a human hero. 

You like the fella, his reasons about certain subjects were simple and straight to the point. 

Allen The Alien 

Allen had always been a bit of an anomaly, with his knack for showing up at the most unexpected moments, and today was no exception. You’ve met the unopan more then once, which was much to your displeasure when the two of you crossed paths once again. Allen against all odds was still alive, which frankly — you found baffling. However, once he explained the circumstances behind his situation. Everything fell into place for you. 

One: it pisses you off, you don't know why. But it really does, the dude dies once — and he just gets…. Stronger. 

Huh? Why couldn’t you have something like that? 

Two: You could actually find a use for him in fights. 

That was a thing, you could always find uses in everything. Even out of the smallest scraps of heap. 

With Allen however, you could always find your fur bristling. It was a fifty/fifty. But nonetheless, you had mellowed out over time. Which meant you also had stopped getting angry at the drop of a hat. Something that surprised Allen. 

Over time, your banter and playful rivalry turns into a mutual understanding of each other's strengths. Your tactical mind and Allen’s adaptability make for an interesting—if not dangerous—partnership. After an impromptu competition, Allen offers his hand, now more curious about you than ever.

"You’re not too bad, for a walking trash can. You ever think about joining the Coalition? We could use someone with your skills." He asks, his tone light as ever. Of course Allen brings it up, he was always looking for someone to invite. 

You, with your sharp, cynical grin, consider the offer.

"Nah—I’ll pass. But if you ever need someone to cover your back in a fight, you know where to find me. Maybe next time, I’ll be the one winning." 

"We’ll see about that. But hey... keep it between us, alright?” He adds, gesturing vaguely. Allen almost laughs, “I really don’t want to explain to my superiors why I lost a bet to a raccoon." 

Despite your differing missions, Allen couldn't deny that you had grown to be more than just an unpredictable anomaly in his life. You were a valuable ally to have, even if your methods were a little... unconventional. Your tactical mind, combined with your readiness for a shootout at any moment, made you an effective problem solver. 

Regardless of your apparent lightheartedness, there was always a depth to your intelligence that made you far more insightful than anyone gave you credit for. Allen had noticed it from your first encounter, and it had only grown sharper over time. He respects that about you a lot, even if you didn’t notice it yourself. 

As always, whenever you two were in the same place, things couldn’t stay calm for long. A few jokes, some banter, and then—the sparring begins. You, with your quick reflexes and keen combat skills, took every opportunity to take a shot at Allen, who responded with his own impressive agility and strength. Even if you refute that you hate the guy, your actions say otherwise.

[namsgyu]

spiked your way into his heart — a namgyu volleyball player au

pairing: namgyu x f! reader

warning: señorita is used

a/n: sorry if this was kinda buns!! wanted to write something fluffy hehe

☆彡

vb player!namgyu who plays as his teams libero, not because he’s the least athletic, but because he’s the most analytic on his team, and can predict his opponents every move

vb player!namgyu never thought he’d make his way to end up on korea’s #1 ranked volleyball team, but hey! must be fate, right?

vb player!namgyu spends his free time at internet cafes, watching plays over and over

vb player!namgyu could only imagine having a fan on his own, most of the crowd usually flocked to thanos’s extroverted personality, or se-mi’s cool girl appeal

but the he met you.

vb player!namgyu meets you at an after party after his team won the championship match! his faced twists into confusion as you ask him to sign a white and green jersey, his well-known name and number printed on the backside

vb player!namgyu eyes you up and down, and asks you if you’re mistaking him for thanos

vb player!namgyu is shocked when you start rambling about the game. about how cool it was when he saved the ball at the last second, and how his call outs basically dominated the game!

vb player!namgyu realizes that you’re his first fan

vb player!namgyu doesn’t miss the way your cheeks flush with pink, and the way your hands tremble a little when you hand over the jersey and number

now he couldn’t simply let you go now could he?

vb player!namgyu writes his own phone number along with his name across the white ‘24’ printed along with the words ‘call me’

vb player!namgyu scrambles from his phone as it lights up, your soft little ‘hello?’ making him blush from the sheer cuteness of your tone

vb player!namgyu invites you to his next game, even begging thanos to help him score you a vip ticket. when giving the ticket to him, thanos warns ‘this better be worth it, we don’t get a lot of these to hand out’

oh it’ll be worth it big time.

vb player!namgyu texts you for days, slowly getting to know you! you both agree to meet up at the usual internet cafe

vb player!namgyu slides a pad of paper and pen over to you, a slight smirk curling his lips over ‘wanna make a strategy for our next game?’

vb player!namgyu slowly finds himself looking forward to his interactions with you — wether it be texts or simply planning and thinking of new strategies, he wanted it all

vb player!namgyu gets teased by thanos at practice ‘you’ve been playing better than usual namsu, something got you in a good mood?’ he replies saying it’s nothing, but thanos knows better

‘must be that señorita from the party huh’

namgyu blushes

‘you saw that?’

‘of course i did, you never get approached at parties’

vb player!namgyu finally forks over the ticket for the game, and you gratefully accept it, telling him you wouldn’t miss it for the world

vb player!namgyu swears that you look at him in a way that surpasses fans meeting their favorite celebrity, but he knocks that thought away as fast as it comes

vb player!namgyu searches for you in the crowd during game day, and his heart skips a beat when he finally finds you, dressed in the same jersey he signed on the night you two met

vb player!namgyu who plays the best he’s ever played before, rarely letting the ball touch his side of the court

of course he couldn’t slip up, you were watching

vb player!namgyu’s eyes search for you own after his team wins match point, pride blooming in his chest as he sees you cheering for him

vb player!namgyu searches for you after his game finishes, hands eagerly pulling at your shirt to pull you in for a deep kiss — a kiss?!

vb player!namgyu’s eyes shoot open, realizing what he’s done but quickly calms down upon seeing your awestruck face smiling back at him

vb player!namgyu sheepishly rubs the back of his neck before shyly meeting his eyes — ‘so we’re doing this?’ he questions, shoving his trembling hands into the pockets of his shorts, half-expecting to be rejected

vb player!namgyu sighs in relief as you hook your arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss ‘we’re doing this’ you confirm

vb player!namgyu’s chest swells with pride that night as you both walk out of the arena hand-in-hand — he won more than just the game, he won your heart too

vb player!namgyu gets a slap on the back at the next practice as a congratulations from thanos ‘so you finally have a señorita of your own, huh? that’s ‘ma boy!’ he cheers, giving namgyu a toothy grin

vb player!namgyu nods, giving him a knowing smile ‘thanks for the ticket, it really was worth it’ he replies, earning a sickly sweet ‘awwww’ from his teammate

vb player!namgyu groans when thanos nudges him, telling him he can ‘repay the favor by helping him find a señorita at the next after party’

☆彡

thanks for tuning in! feedback is read and appreciated <3

tag list

@namgyucat @dgaftilwedie @cybrasigilism @nuttybeans @miss-conjayniality @rohjaewonlvr @ffsjustletmesleep @allmyocsarebritish @namgyushands @celestialmatcha7 @preppyfella @princeofkhaenri-ah

[count-on-mi]

Twice Interactive Story Part 22 Can't Live Without You (Momo, Chaeyoung)

You look at the phone, you still have not changed the wallpaper with you and Nayeon. 'Momo...' You quietly say her name.

I close and lock the door before calling Momo back.

You sit down and take a deep breath, then you call Momo again.

'Y/N?' Momo answers you in a shaken voice.

"I'm back, sorry. Are you alright?"

'No, I am not right when I am not with you.' Momo answers you.

'I'm sorry, I really shouldn't send Nayeon the photo.'

"Yeah, thank you for apologizing. Momo, I'm not looking to be in a relationship right now but we can always go out together. How does that sound?"

'You know I love you, I... I just don't want to be one of your causal friends with benefits, I want to be special.'

'I don't need to be your official girlfriend, I just want to have a piece of heart.'

'I'm sorry if I ask for too much.'

"We're going to need to rebuild our relationship Momo. We can't just go back to how things were. We can try. But if you do something like that again it's over."

'How can I prove my love. I really don’t know what to do. All the way before at the gym, I was just using my body to make you happy. I really don’t know, Y/N.'

'But I can't forget the moment We kiss at the shower, I...'

"Are you free tonight, Momo? Let's meet at the park. We can talk better there."

'Why don't we meet at the gym, you can meet me in my room. But aren't you said you need to pick your sister from airport tonight? You will come afterwards, right? I will wait you at the gym.'

"Yeah, I'll come as quick as I can but make sure Daniel isn't there."

'Why? You afraid of Daniel? And I haven't seen him for a long time, so it's ok.'

'I can't wait to see you, Y/N. Be safe when you drive here.' Momo blows you a kiss before she ends the call. You look at the clock, and realize you should head to Airport for Chaeyoung now.

You arrived and waiting for Chaeyoung, suddenly someone grabs your cock from behind, you turn around to see it is Chaeyoung.

"Really Chaeyoung?" I say as I now face her. "That’s how you greet me?"

You don't know how much I miss this big guy, of course you too, Oppa.' Chaeyoung says.

'I want to show you my new tattoo, free tonight? I will come after Dahyun eooni sleeps.' Chaeyoung whispers in your ears.

"I need to meet with someone after I drop you off at home so it'll have to wait."

'OK, we still got lots of time.' Chaeyoung hands you the suitcase and you two walk to the carpark.

'By the way, Nayeon eooni told me that you aren't going to fix it, what happen?'

"I just don't deserve her. She should have someone better than me. Listen Chaeyoung I don’t feel like talking about it right now." I respond.

'Sorry, I didn't mean it.' Chaeyoung grabs your arm and acting cute.

'I just worry did Nayeon eooni know what's between us.'

"No, she didn't know. Oh, and I think Dahyun is trying to have the same type of relationship."

'What? Dahyun eooni?' Chaeyoung is shocked. 'I don't think she is someone who will ask for sex proactively. But did you two start already?'

"No, She's being shy about it. She started talking about wanting to be seen as a woman and wanting to be in a relationship."

'So, what are you going to do?' Chaeyoung asks. 'Well, I wouldn't mind if you do that. If Dahyun eooni wants.'

'Just make sure you don't put all your attention on her. ‘Chaeyoung smirks.

"Already getting jealous?" I ask as I finish putting her stuff in the car. "Come on, let's go home."

'Of course! I can only meet you on holiday as we are in different city.' Chaeyoung answers you when she enters the car.

'Dahyun eooni is staying here, so she could have much more time with you.'

"Yeah, I guess so. Oh there's something else too." I explain Jihyo's situation and the reason she's staying with me to Chaeyoung as I start driving us home.

'Oh, she is so poor, marrying such a bad guy.' Chaeyoung pours as she hears Jihyo's story.

'But why would she trust you, you are a player too huh? You have girls besides Nayeon eooni... Oh, sorry, I didn't mean it.'

"I'm single now, and when I do get into a relationship, I'm ending everything else." I tell her. As I continue to drive, I move over and slide one of my hands into Chaeyoung's panties and rub her. "I'm going to have to punish you for bringing her up again, Chaeyoung."

'If it's the punishment I guess I will speak about her more.' Chaeyoung adjusts her position to let you fingering her better.

'You are not worrying Dahyun eooni will suspect anything huh?' Chaeyoung says while move her hands to your thigh and teasing you.

"I don't think so. I don't plan on letting you cum Chaeyoung." I rub her clit until I know she's about to orgasm before stopping and taking my hand out. "That’s your punishment."

'No! Put it back!' Chaeyoung roars when you denied her orgasm.

'I'm nearly cum, please let me cum. I am so sorry, I won't do it again, please, Oppa.' Chaeyoung begs for your hand. 'I would make you feel good too, Oppa.' Chaeyoung's hands starts caressing your cock from outside of your pants.

"Hands off Chaeyoung, or I'll make sure you won't be able to walk tomorrow. What would Dahyun think?"

'Oh, I would love to do that, such a welcome form your right?' Chaeyoung started rubbing the clit herself while her keep squeezing your cock, it begins to harden.

'Plus, the one who should explain to Dahyun eooni is you right? What would she say if she enters your room and see you are fucking me.'

"Chaeyoung stop, you're going to ruin the inside of the car." I finish the drive home and take out Chaeyoung's luggage from the car.

'Ah, ah, ahhh!' You come back to the car with the suitcase and Chaeyoung eventually cums on your car.

'Such a nice ride, oppa' Chaeyoung says while hands your her finger which is cover in her juice.

I grab her hand and pull her out of the car, "You're gonna gets yours soon Chaeyoung. Let's just get inside"

'Yeah, I will see you soon Oppa. Don't back so late, ok?' Chaeyoung tidy up and get the suitcase before entering the building.

You then drive to the gym, you are thinking about what you could say to Momo.

You steps by Momo's room, and you see she is keep walking inside the room, look frustrated.

I knock on the door, and wait for a response.

Momo comes and opens the door, when she sees it is you, she says nothing, just hug you so tightly, not willing to let go.

'Y/N, I miss you so much, please don't leave me again.'

"Why were you pacing inside your room Momo?" I ask as I pat her back.

'I am so worried, I afraid that you won't show up, I afraid that I won't see you again.' Momo looks up at you but still hugs you tightly.

"Yeah, well I'm here." I push my way inside and close the door behind me. "Let's talk a little Momo."

'I think I have said what I want to say in the phone, Y/N. What do you think?' Momo sits next to you while laying her head on your shoulder.

' I really really wanna be with you, I can't imagine my life without you.'

"Momo, I'm not really looking to be in a serious relationship with anyone right now. I did a lot of wrong. I know you don't want to be friends with benefits, and that's fine. I'm just not looking to have a relationship." I tell her. "So that leaves us here, and I'm not sure what to do."

'I can wait, Y/N. I just want you to know I would always wait for you.' Momo cups your cheek.

'I can be your secret lover after you got a new girlfriend, or even if you get marry in the future. I want just a little piece of your heart.' Momo says and she leans to kiss you.

"Momo, when I get into a relationship again. I'm not going to do the same things. I want to be a better person, you can have a piece of my heart but I don't want to be cheating on my potential partner again."

'What do you mean Y/N? You accepting friends with benefits in your relationships but not secret lovers? You are not cheating on your future partner Y/N, we love each other, right?' Momo grabs your head to kiss you again.

"Momo I mean that when I'm in a relationship again I won't have any friends with benefits, and secret lovers. I want to do things right. I do love you Momo."

'No, no, no! It shouldn't be like that.' Momo let's your head go and shakes her head.

'Everything was in a good balance before, we 3 are all good, I will have you when she is not there for you. Why can't we be like that?' Momo still can't face the fact that you denied her.

"Because I want to be a better person Momo. I hurt Nayeon, I hurt you. I don't want to be the same person." I put my hand on her head. "I'm just going to have casual relationships right now."

'Casual relationships?' Momo looks up at you in disbelief. 'You mean I could only be with you if I am your friend with benefits? What are you talking about?'

Momo grabs your hand on her tits 'So you only want my body huh, fuck me then! Go ahead! If that what takes you to stay with me.' Momo says while start undressing herself.

I pull my hand away from Momo. "You're not understanding Momo. I'm not doing this because I just want your body, I'm doing this because I don't want to hurt anyone." I Give Momo a hug, "Think about it for a second." I stand up ready to leave. "Look Momo, we could go out on dates sometimes and not have to worry about anything, anyone but right now I'm not going to be tied to anyone."

'You are hurting me if you leave right now.' Momo says while your hand reach the door knob.

' I really love you, but I don't know how to make you love me too. I see you like my body, so I use it to get closer to you but it seems didn't work. I am sorry if I am forcing you.' Momo's tears start dropping.

I sit back down and pull Momo onto my lap. "I do love you Momo. I'm just not ready to be in relationship like that. Put your clothes back on, let's go somewhere." I gather Momo's clothes and help her put them back on. I start to think of where to take her and decide on an ice rink.

You and Momo then leave for the ice rink. You two get changed for ice skating. You grab Momo's hand and slowly guide her to the ice.

You walk on the ice and find that Momo is not following you, you turn back to see she is still standing at the entrance.

'Sorry, Y/N. I don't know how to walk on the ice.' Momo looks at you shyly.

I go back and take hold of her hands. Gently pulling her toward the ice, while telling her how to do it.

You hold both of Momo's hands and guide her to walk on the ice.

Momo seems so nervous and eventually loss the balance, you two fall together while Momo lands on you.

Embarrassingly, Momo's face directly hits your crotch, she blushes and covers her face, 'Sorry Y/N, I can't even do simple things. I am ruining our date again, sorry.'

I kneel on the ground, "give me a second. That hurt." After a moment I stand back up. "Come on, let's try again. Besides this is actually pretty hard."

You help Momo gets up and keep teaching her. Momo strugglely walking but keep falling.

Although Momo is keep falling, you can see she is improving.

'Ah, it's so hard, Y/N. I can't do it.' Momo is frustrated as the lack of progress.

"Hey, hey, look at me. Momo you're doing well. You're getting the hang of it. I see it."

You cheer Momo and slowly free her hands, let her to walk on her own.

'Yes, Y/N, I can do it, I can do it!' Momo finally can walk on her own. She is so excited and rushes to hug you.

You hold her tight, you two spinning on the ice, Momo blushes and close her eyes, waiting for your action.

I kiss her forehead and go ahead of her, "come on, Momo let's see how far you can go.”

Momo pours her face as she is disappointed you only kiss her forehead. 'Y/N, I think I need more motivation.' Then she starts to chase you from behind.

However, as Momo is still a beginner, it's difficult for her to catch you from the back.

'Ah! I will get you!' Momo is triggered by your laughter. She lets out her hand try to catch you, it's so close, but still inch from you.

Momo leans her body too forward, and she loses her balance. You hear her falls, so you come back to get her up.

'Why I just can't catch you, in skating I can't, in real life I can't.' Momo sighs.

"That’s just life Momo. Who knows, maybe you might one day. Life is unpredictable." I skate by her and poke her nose. "Come on, let's go." I help her up and gold her hand as I lead her to the exit.

'Not might, I will catch you for sure, Y/N.' Momo holds your hand and you two leave the ice rink.

Momo still holds your hand after you two get changed, you two walk in the mall and figuring where to go.

'Any idea where to go next? Or we should back home?' Momo asks you.

"Why don't we get something to eat and then I'll drop you off at your house." I answer.

'Yeah, sure, I am hungry too.' Momo nods. 'But you are not staying with me tonight? I won't take any photos this time, really.'

"My stepsister wanted to do something later tonight so I can't." I respond. As I lead us to a restaurant.

'OK then' Momo pours her face while eating.

'Promise me you will stay next time we meet, I really miss sleeping with you.' Momo gives out her little finger before she ready to leaves your car.

Momo kisses your cheek before leaving your car. 'Goodnight, Y/N. Hope we will meet again in your dream.'