#at least have the decency to close your damn door all the way

[burnt-tree]

person in room F with their door ajar: HEEREE III AAAAAAAAAAAMMMMM

[loverboy-havocboy]

Could I request number 17 with Cody/Kix? 🙏

17. an upside-down “spider-man” kiss - cody/kix

i'm gonna be honest (and apologetic), this was hard, and i think i gave up a little 😔

Cody never thought he'd meet a CT whose schedule could give his a run for its money - and that's not him being patronizing, it's him being responsible for the entire 7th Sky Corps.

Kix proved him wrong.

Cody supposes that if it were anyone, the man responsible for tending to the injuries of Rex’s island of misfit troopers makes the most sense.

If life had been kinder, they could have been good friends. They could've been content with a comm call here and there, where time allowed. They could've bumped shoulders when they ran into each other at 79’s. They could've separated from their joint missions without the aching, gnawing fear that this would be the last time.

Life wasn't so kind, though, and instead it chose to crash their hearts together like two ships colliding in hyperspace. They needed each other now, and they were rarely so lucky as to get a moment alone. Tonight's no different.

Every time a comm goes off, it's anybody's guess as to which of them are being called away, and whether they hope it's for something arbitrary like an inventory meeting or a life threatening emergency. Cody thinks this one had damn well better be an emergency.

They'd just fallen asleep.

Their reunion had been quick - too quick - because they'd just known they'd be interrupted. Cody almost wishes they'd been interrupted during the act, because now he's pliant and warm with the full length of Kix’s solid body pressed against his back, and all he wants is to stay that way.

“Yours or mine?” Kix mumbles against the back of his neck.

Given that he's closer, Cody reaches for their comms and groans a little, which is enough of an answer.

“Sorry,” the medic says, loosening his grip on him. “I’d make it mine if I could.”

“No you wouldn't,” Cody grouses, careful to keep the blanket over Kix as he extricates himself, cringing at the mess between his legs.

“No, I wouldn't,” Kix agrees, trailing his fingertips over Cody's bare back. At least he has the decency to sound apologetic about it.

Cody sighs heavily as he drops down from the top bunk, his feet hitting the cold durasteel floor. Kix rolls the short distance to the edge of the mattress and peers down to watch him dress. When Cody looks over, he snorts softly at the sight of his boyfriend's head hanging upside-down off the bunk.

Unable to resist, he steps in and takes Kix's face in his hands. Tempted further by the curl of his lips, Cody dips his head to steal a kiss from them. Kix sighs lightly against him.

“I’ll miss you,” Kix tells him.

“You’ll be asleep again before the door closes,” Cody disagrees.

Kix just shrugs a little, so Cody just kisses him again.

He'll sleep in Kix's arms before they part if it's the last force-forsaken thing he does.

[officialfoxsquadron]

rising, falling

972 words | my ao3

rating: general audience

summary: Aunt Beru's son is growing up. He is in danger. This, she has always known.

When Luke’s toys came crashing around him, she cursed him again. Not her nephew-no, never him. She cursed his father, Obi-Wan, the whole damned lot of them. They were sandstorms, these men-destroying everything in their path, not caring who they hurt or what they left behind.

Obi-Wan, at least, had the decency to stay close. She knew, eventually, that there would come a day when he would take her nephew-her son -away, and she would have to let him.

But that didn’t mean she had to trust him. Any of them, these sandstorm men who reached for the suns, tried to bring them crashing down. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in the Force-it was hard not to when your son woke from his nightmares with toys floating around him. She just never understood why they had to mess with it.

“Aunt Beru,” His voice was small, quiet, and shaky, but Luke sat bolt upright. She felt her husband rush behind her, his hands ghosting her back as she clutched her collar. She had screamed, she realized. She shouldn't have done that.

He's growing like a weed, she thought dully. He'll need new clothes again. “Uncle Owen. I had a bad dream-���

“It’s alright, son,” her husband said, in that gruff voice of his. He brushed past Beru, smoothed his nephew’s blanket, laid him back down. “Just worried it was raiders, that’s all.”

“Bu-but-”

“It’s alright.” Owen said-no, insisted. He wordlessly walked to the other side of Luke’s room and picked up his bantha plush, placing it back in Luke’s hands. “Just go back to sleep, we’ll fix it in the morning.”

“Okay.” Luke said, squeezing the toy near his chest, voice already dipping. “Just a bad dream?”

“Just a bad dream.” Owen confirmed, stroking his son’s hair as he fell to sleep.

Beru was still frozen in the doorway. She wanted to comfort her son, but Owen was always better at this part of parenting. He would rush in when fear made your heart leap into your throat. 

She did not want to be scared of him, her darling boy, who always knew how to make her laugh. But seeing the contents of his room floating around him, the pained noises that were in his throat-

“We love you, Luke,” she said, quietly, still trying to regain her breath. Luke was already asleep, but she hoped he heard her. “It’s alright. Go back to sleep.”

Owen wrapped his arm around her, her whole body still shaking, after he closed Luke’s door. He held her until they were back in their room and guided her to sit on the edge of their bed. He wrapped a blanket around her, wordlessly, and found the bottle of liquor they kept hidden for moments like these.

“Thank you, Owen,” she said, her voice clawing its way out of her throat. She took a sip-she hated the stuff, but her nerves were overactive all these years. “I’m sorry I didn’t-”

“Stop,” Owen said gruffly, taking her hand. He held it between his, rubbing his thumb along her palm. She felt the fear, the anger, the hatred die down for a moment, enough to regain her senses.

“How did you know to go to him?” Her husband rarely asked questions of her. She turned, looked into his eyes. They were blue, so blue, calm and silent.

“I dunno. I couldn’t sleep.” It was the truth. Sleep had never come easily to her, and she always made sure to peek into Luke’s room when she could. Just to make sure he was breathing. That’s when she saw it, the contents of the room floating above him. "I screamed, Owen. I should have never done that, he'll think-"

"Stop," he said again, kissing her forehead. "It's not your fault. You can't always control how you react to...something like that."

She thought-not for the first time, and certainly not for the last-of stories Shmi would tell her, of dreams and nightmares that led to a quickening in her womb. She thought of Luke’s mother, the beautiful woman from very far away. She had been so sad, even then, when she was supposed to be young and in love.

She gave Beru a smile when they parted, an odd little smile. A reassuring one. An apologetic one. It was one that twisted Beru's stomach.

She thought of the smile now, her parting gift from her sister-in-law. It was a gift women gave each other often; when they went off with bad men, when they hoped against hope that things would work out. She had given it to her, so that when reports of a massacre came in, Beru wouldn't scream. She would try and remember. She would try and control herself, hold still in a sandstorm, because the men were playing at gods again.

Her husband smoothed her hair, kissed the side of her head. She put the glass down and rested her head on his shoulder, letting herself melt into his familiar warmth. He guided them to lay on the bed, and she leaned into him, wrapped herself around him.

He sighed, in the way he sighed right before he said something he thought was terrifying. “He’s growing up, Beru.”

“I know,” she replied, and traced his jaw, his nose, the lines on his face. How did they get there? They were young once.

They didn’t need to say anything else. They never did. Her husband’s heartbeat, the rise and fall of his breath–it was a song she knew, a lullaby, and she let it calm her fried nerves. He fell asleep, and soon, she would too, despite herself.

We’ll fix it in the morning, she thought. Luke is growing up, and the sandstorm is coming, but there’s nothing for it now. We’ll fix it in the morning.

[deceitfuldevil]

Kinktober 10/1

Prompt: body worship

Character: Matt Murdock

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, oral, blasphemy, not proofread, will update later.

—

You and Matt didn’t need to try anything new to have fun in the bedroom, that was for sure. But when you were caught amidst a binge of both Fleabag and Heathers: the musical, an idea struck you.

What if you could get Matt to worship your body like he worshiped god?

The idea definitely has some sacrilegious undertones, besides the point. There was always a guilty mark left on your moral code whenever you’d attend church with Matt and get that deliciously familiar warmth flooding your core watching him pray and kneel.

Oh just the thought of Matt kneeling before your bare pussy and maybe ever saying a—

“Whatcha thinking about doll?” Matt spoke gently, coming up behind you and resting his hands on your waist— interrupting your thoughts entirely.

“Oh, nothing!” You squeaked, Matt tilted his head at you inquisitively. “It’s really nothing Matt.” You reassured him, knowing damn well that he knew you were lying. Both the pace of your heart and the heat from your core gave you away in an instant to him, and both of you were aware of that fact but chose to not acknowledge it.

You managed to push on for a few more days without bringing the suggestion up to Matt, wondering for a moment if the idea was just an intrusive thought after all. Until Sunday mass came around and you lost all resolve for holding back the suggestion after all.

Sitting down at a cute diner nearby the church, somewhere you and Matt always went for an after-mass brunch, you were uncharacteristically quiet. Matt sensed your heart racing since the sermon.

“Sweetheart?” Matt chimed, you merely hummed in response as you put a piece of pancake into your mouth. “Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?” He asked in a gentle tone, assuring you he was here for whatever you needed.

Matt always satisfied your needs in every way possible, so why were you so afraid to suggest this little idea you had?

“How would you feel about worshipping me? You know… in the bedroom.” You said with haste, your words practically falling over each other. Matt tightened the grip he had on his fork as he took a bite of his eggs. You were unsure if your suggestion had offended him, or based on the way he was gripping his fork maybe you prompted another reaction entirely.

Matt stood up without another word, walking away from the table and making room for the guilty feeling that poked holes in your moral code to now sink deep into your stomach. Shame heated your face as you watched Matt go up to the host as pay for the meal.

Little did you know Matt wanted to do nothing more than throw you over his shoulder and rush you home, but he was aware it would look right if a blind man carried a woman over his shoulders, even if it was only a few blocks.

“Home. Now.” Matt said with a firm tone, a recognizable tone. That was Matt’s bedroom voice peaking out behind the stern facade he worm just long enough to get you back to his apartment.

You still weren’t sure if this was a very bad or a very good reaction. Matt was either taking you home to scold you for your suggestion in the privacy of his apartment and not a public restaurant, because at least he had that basic level of decency. You were almost sure it was that very reason, either that or he liked your idea so much he was taking you home to ravish you. Based on the steady face paced walk he kept as he walked ahead of you, you assumed it was the former.

But when you arrived at his place, he proved you very wrong. “Bedroom, now.” Matt ordered as he closed the door to his apartment behind you after letting you in. This order made your nether regions tingle with anticipation, wondering what he had in store for you.

You sat anxiously on the bed, eyeing Matt as he walked in with his tie loosened and a few buttons of his shirt undone. “Just when I worried I hadn’t prayed enough for the day, you give me a second chance.” Matt said as he walked closer to you. “You’re more than holy, and you definitely deserve to be worshipped.” Matt said as he fingers easily undid the clasp at the top of your dress and dragged the zipper down. “Because baby, you are my god.” He finished off, letting your dress fall off your shoulders and poll at your feet.

“My religion.” Matt spoke softly as he kissed down your body. “My reason for worship.” He added as he pushed you down onto the bed as you legs fell off the end. Matt spread your thighs and kneeled between them, peppering hot open-mouthed kissed just shy of where you needed him most. The sight alone was almost too much to take in without hearing a moan. That moan escaped your lips moments later anyways as soon as Matt laid a soft kiss right at your heat.

Then he stopped and he was… talking?

Oh god, he was praying.

He was saying grace before devouring your soaking wet pussy.

The mix of heat from his breath fanning over your core and the vibrations from his lips as he inched closer and closer to your sexual appendage as his prayer came to an end.

His lips connecting to your lower ones as soon as he finished reciting the prayer. Pleasure building inside you as Matt’s lips formed a suction around your slick entrance and his tongue lapped at you like a man starved, this was a new kind of hunger Matt had never experienced before.

A very familiar knot began to build quickly in the pit of your stomach as your hips started to lift off of the bed because the pleasure was becoming damn near too intense. But Matt was having none of that, instead he snaked one arm around and pressed it done in your hips— keeping you pinned to the bed. His other hand slipping between the vice-like grip your thighs had on his head and removing his lips from your soaked entrance only to replace them with his fingers.

You couldn’t help but scream as Matt scissored and flexed his fingers inside your throbbing cunt while attaching his lips onto your swollen clit. Your hands gripped onto his hair, finding purchase in his thick locks, he was simultaneously grounding you to reality and letting you float far above it.

As soon as Matt started to curled his fingers inside of you and brush over that perfect spot inside of you, the knot inside of you started to snap. As he could feel you falling off the edge he spoke right into your core saying: “you are my god.” The vibrations from his voice borderline overstimulating you as all you saw was stars. If you were god, this had to be heaven.

Once you were finished screaming with pleasure and your body had gone limp enough to allow Matt to slide out from his place in between your thighs, he held your close until you had completely come down from your high.

“And here I was worried suggesting a little bit of worship in the bedroom would offend you.” You said breathlessly with a laugh, looking up as Matt whose face was drenched in your slick. But you kissed him sweetly because you couldn’t care less.

Matthew Murdock made you see the heavens because he himself believed you were god.

—

A/N

I’m currently on a road trip so like I’m aware this isn’t my best work but I really wanted to try Kinktober this year

Much Love,

—Skyler

[peacesmith]

MS. DEATH

GENRE — uhhh idk not fluff, not angst, canon i guess

CHARACTERS — saccharine death

PAIRING — none

CONENT WARNING — mentions of murder, death (a lot), pregnancy (?), saccharine kills like two people okay

NOTES — i really really like how this turned out, it’s really just a backstory on how saccharine became the villain for TSK and somewhat why, idk just read it

TAGGING — @its-that-guy-again @bambikisses66 @leftsidebonfire

Saccharine has never found a place to call home. Death seemed to follow her everywhere, literally.

Death wasn’t even her last name, at least not legally. Not yet. Not in the early 2000’s. She didn’t know her last name, just changing it wherever she went. Whatever human she married, she couldn’t bother to remember the first names of anyone. They weren’t important anyways if their blood would be on her hands anyways.

It’s all so stupid. Human customs were weird, especially in the early 2000’s. Americans were even weirder. Modern women were terrible, as a woman herself, she thought they were terrible.

Back in her time, women were allowed to be tall and intimidating. Now they were all petite and dated men 15x times their height. She never understood. Saccharine would prefer a man who was just as intimidating as her, height be damned. If he couldn’t stoop up to her level, then he’s pathetic. And pathetic, weak people, needed to be removed. Especially when she’s on a mission.

She only married the men to get close to their friends, to get close to them in general. To find someone who was strong. Mentally and physically. But all she came across was pathetic, worthless humans. She thought that maybe her presence would bring out someone who had powers. But no luck.

With a sigh, Saccharine drops the head of the man she just married a few days ago. It was a grueling process. Luckily the man was desperate enough to marry her within a year of knowing each other. Overdosing didn’t work, the man had a strong tolerance for drugs. She should’ve known. So she took matters into her own hands.

Her sword grazes the floor before putting it back into her sheath. She’ll go undetected. She wasn’t in the system anyways. Her body died over a century ago. She was pronounced dead over a century ago. Whatever, that’s irrelevant to her right now. And for the rest of her life, or lives in this case.

Cleaning the sword was the least of her worries at the moment. Right now, she had to figure out her next plan of action. She didn’t mean to kill the guy so quickly, he was just… unbearable to be with, to look at. He whined so much that she couldn’t take it anymore. ‘What was for dinner?’ ‘You’re not gonna do your makeup?’ ‘Can we go out to eat?’ It was all so frustrating. So she just decided to kill him. Easiest plan of action really. But now, where will she go from here?

“Pizdets.” She muttered out in her native tongue before walking away. Making her way to the bathroom. She opens the door with her bloodied hand and walks inside. Looking at her reflection in the mirror. She looked like hell. Watching as her third eye opens up.

Something wasn’t right. Her third eye pupil was… dilated. It’s never dilated. Not until now. The Russian glares at her reflection as she tries to figure out the issue.

Although her thoughts were interrupted by the front door opening. A woman screaming and crying. Must’ve been his mistress. Great another inconvenience. She’ll worry about the third eye later, right now, she had another nuisance to get rid of.

Somehow, she ended up in North Carolina. A state she was unfamiliar with. Given that she hated traveling, she didn’t have much of a choice.

Saccharine looks around at all of the people, walking, driving, drinking and whatnot. They were all wearing some sort of revealing clothing. Girls barely wore shorts, they were so small it seemed like underwear. Men without shirts, where were their decency? Despicable.

It was the middle of June but the heat didn’t bother her. 84 degrees was nothing to her. She walked through the busy streets with a long sleeve shirt and tight dress pants. High heeled boots, ones she stole from the mistress. This weather was nothing. Sure she got a few looks, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t have to wear sunscreen or anything like that so she felt above these insects.

Orange obscured her view as she walked, looking for her next target. Someone who seemed strong. Someone who could help her find that stupid gem thingy. Wherever that source of power she felt was coming from.

A loud siren broke her train of thought. The white and red vehicle passing by. An emergency, she presumed. She would’ve ignored it if it wasn’t for the strong energy she felt coming from that stupid ambulance. Saccharine huffs, guess she’ll be hunting an ambulance today.

It didn’t take long to find the hospital either, with a bit of persuasion and listening, she found the stupid vehicle. Watching as they rushed a woman into the hospital. A man next to her. Her initial thought that the energy was coming from the man, it made sense to her. But the more she stayed around, the more she realized that the energy was coming from the woman. A pregnant woman at that.

Oh fuck, it’s the baby.

Saccharine huffs and follows inside the hospital, after the nurses and what not rushing the woman inside. The woman screamed so loudly, in ‘pain’ she presumed. How weak and pathetic. Watching as she cried on and on about the baby and pain.

The nurses rush her into one of the available rooms and closes the door. Saccharine stands outside of the door, hand reaching to turn the knob until a voice called out behind her.

“Ma’am, are you a relative of the patient?”

Saccharine freezes, slowly turning her head towards the female nurse. Her hand retracting from the knob. She’ll try her luck later. “No, I’m not. Just a close friend that’s all. I’ll be leaving now.”

She starts to walk past the nurse for a moment before pausing, looking at her from her peripheral vision. Feigning innocence for a moment, she speaks to the nurse.

“If you’re not busy, I’ve seen to have lost my way. Could you… walk me out?” She slightly pouts at the nurse, hoping she says yes.

The nurse gives her a smile and nods, starting to walk past her. Which Saccharine follows close behind. If she remembers correctly, there should be a storage unit nearby.

And she was right, because not too far from the exit, she stops the nurse.

“Are you… new here? Miss.” Saccharine asks from behind her, this causes the nurse to pause and turn. A bit confused from her question but decided to answer it anyways.

“Yes actually, started a few days ago. So I’m trying to get to know everyone.”

“Great, I’ll finish that task for you.”

Before she could respond, Saccharine grabs her and drags her into the storage unit. Tossing her in there before walking in behind her. She closes the door. All that could be heard was a few thuds and the sound of someone being impaled. It went quiet for a moment before the door opened. Saccharine walks out in the nurse’s outfit. It was slightly smaller, but it’ll have to do. Walking out, she wipes her bloodied hand off with a towel she saw from the unit. Getting rid of the bits of the nurse on her fingers before tossing it. Not caring who found it.

It was surprising to her on how long labor took, given that she doesn’t even remember exactly when she was born. Other than that it was some time in October. Yet again, irrelevant.

She stared at the sleeping woman, it was currently past midnight, one or two in the morning. Most people were too busy operating or doing something else. It didn’t matter to her. She opens the door quietly and closes it the same way, locking it for good measure. Walking past the new mother to the baby. Leaning over the baby, she casts a shadow over it. Looking over, she leans closer.

A girl, how cute.

She could just almost spit on the white-haired newborn. Almost. She had some decency.

Sighing, she picks up the baby and resists the urge to strangle it, moving her finger to open up her eyes. Once she does, her eyes slightly widen.

Royal Blue. Fuck.

She then puts the baby back down, watching it stare up at her. Participating in some sort of impromptu staring contest. Not before the baby smiled at her. It didn’t move her one bit. She could just strangle it right now. Which, she almost did, but she didn’t. Instead, she leaned closer to the baby.

“You think you’re so cute hm? Not really.”

She leans back up and looks around the room before spotting some papers on the table. She walks over towards them and picks them up. Looking over them. She was about to put them down before something caught her eye. A name.

‘Būni Alessandra Crostata.’

“Hm, Būni huh?” Saccharine hums and walks back over to the baby and leans over her once more. Smirking as she whispers, “You’re not strong enough, no not yet. But know, by your sixteenth birthday, we will meet again. There’s no doubt in that.”

The third eye opens, pupil dilated as it gazes at the sleeping child. Staring at her. Those damn royal blue eyes, abnormal white her. She knew that baby wasn’t normal. She knew that baby had the power she needed. Her third eye glows for a moment before disappearing. Continuing her speech.

“And when we meet, I will take your power, one way or another. Because you’re finally a worthy opponent. I know it. Even if I have to kill for it.”She gently touches her cheek as the baby watches, her bright blue eyes open again. Staring up at her.

Death always seemed to follow her wherever she went. And she embraced it. Death, seemed like a home, something that she was married to.

“I will find you, Miss Crostata. And you will know my name, remember it Būni. Saccharine Death, Būni Crostata.”

She then pauses before speaking.

“Or, Ms. Death, for short.”

[umbrellamedic]

//The infamous bomb as pickup line thing. This hc will have to be pried out of my cold dead hands, and even then i will not give it up.

"Now that was a job well done!"

This new team is effective, but annoying.

"I say we go celebrate!"

Well. Some more than others. One more than others. Beltway, the demolitions man.

They're crowded in a conference room that may as well have been a broom closet, debriefed after their last mission- their first official mission as the new Delta Team- and getting ready to file out when the explosives expert starts talking. Bertha knows she is not the only one to roll her eyes at the suggestion.

They file out, more or less ignoring him on the way to their temporary quarters which are somehow smaller than the conference room. It'll be at least two days before transport is ready for them to each go home. Bertha has no plans beyond sleeping, maybe reading, and impatiently waiting to leave. It's ironic; while home she longs for the next mission. While working she wants to go home. Well. Once the work is done and not a second later. During the job she feels alive.

Hardly an hour later and there is a banging at her door that continues for the five minutes it takes her to give up on ignoring the noise and answer. Beltway on the other side of the door is not a surprise, but it is not welcome, either. He's apparently showered and changed into civilian clothes. He looks too casual in jeans, a Hawaiian print button down, a ridiculous fedora, and a grin that looks too sharp to be casual.

His mouth opens and spews something in appreciation of Bertha's outfit, but she's already covering his words with a flat, "No. Bother someone else." She's shed her mask and the leather overcoat and apron of her uniform; any civility awarded to the team has ended. Hell, if it were up to her none of them would see her in something as casual as the black tank she wears under her gear, now untucked over her pants. Pants she only put back on to answer the door. Dammit.

Unfortunately, Beltway is not the type to listen or care about how things would be in a perfect world. He's the type to barge in while Bertha is trying to close the door; what's worse is that he's strong enough to get away with it.

"C'mon, we're going out for a celebratory drink!" If he noticed the clear signs Bertha is sending that she's not having his shit, he's making no indication of it. "You're pretty much already ready! We're aren't going anywhere fancy."

"I am sure Spectre would love to go out with you. Tell him there will be vodka and he won't be able to resist. I am staying in tonight."

To emphasize her point, the medic was more than happy to forcibly remove her teammate. Unfortunately, the same bulk and muscle that allowed him to force his way in allowed him to remain Bertha's problem. That they were both well trained for close quarters removes any advantage Bertha normally had over large idiots who wanted her attention; the scuffle ends with Bertha pinned against a wall and a something small and beeping stuck to the back of her neck.

"Wouldn't fuck with that if I were you," Beltway doesn't have the decency to sound angry; he's amused and all to happy to show it, "It'll go boom if you don't disarm it first."

Bertha only pushed away from the wall enough to punch it once the demoman lets up. "If you think I won't blow us both up out of spite-"

"-It'll be too small to fuck me up that much. I'm not fucking stupid." He reaches out to ruffle Bertha's hair and gets his hand batted away for his efforts; this only makes him laugh, "I like them feisty."

The medic turns and glares daggers at her teammate. Once the device is off, she's killing him. Consequences be damned. She doesn't even try to sound any less angry than she feels, "Remove your little toy from my neck."

"Yeah, yeah. When we're done celebrating, sure. But by then I think you'll be glad I dragged your ass out. Get your boots on, I know a place."

…

As it turns out, Beltway has an actual name- Hector- and he does not know a place. What he does know is how to make people laugh and how to make nice with people who have no clue what kind of cruel, charming monster they're dealing with. All these people know places. Hector and Bertha get to know these places as well.

They're two bars and several beers in when Bertha gives up on arguing against Hector paying for everything.

They're five bars, many beers, and several shots in when Michaela slurs a demand that Hector calls her by her real name. She has to correct his pronunciation several times before he gets it.

They're another bar-this one with karaoke- and halfway through the worst rendition of Friends in Low Places- a shit song made all the worse by their drunk screaming of the lyrics- when Michaela realizes her face hurts because of how much she's been smiling.

They're too many drinks to count in when they stumble back and Michaela considers pulling him into her room for the night. Lupo does not appreciate how loud and drunk they are, which only makes Hector laugh louder.

They're in Michaela's pathetically small room when Hector tugs the little device off her neck- the one she forgot was there hours ago- without even pretending to disarm it first. This earns him a punch to the shoulder, but Michaela is too much a happy drunk to put too much force in, and Hector is too amused, too drunk, too sturdy to be bothered.

"It wasn't fucking armed, asshole!" Michaela sounds less angry and forceful than she wants, but part of that is probably because she's had trouble pulling her lips away from Hector's since they got to her room.

"Not even a bomb!" Hector is entirely too pleased with himself, "Just the light I use for decoys." He's had an equally hard time pulling his lips away from hers. "Wasn't gonna get chewed out for blowing up a teammate on purpose. Again."

…

They're two shots in at a bar turned safe house in Raccoon City when Michaela realizes just how deep in love she is- she has been for longer than she is prepared to admit to herself.

They're four teammates down in a parking garage when Michaela actually says the words 'I love you' out loud. She doesn't know if it's endearing or infuriating when Hector says it fucking took her long enough to admit it. But then he's saying it back and Michaela doesn't have it in herself to be mad at him.

They're one objective away from extraction and one explosion in. Hector was the bigger target. Bertha knows that even if, by some miracle, she does not succumb to the bleeding or burns or undead rushing towards the BBQ that her body has become, she is well and truly dead. Her heart has just been blown up next to her.

[metize]

Behave.

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Yagami Light/Reader Additional Tags: Reader-Insert, Praise Kink, Yagami Light is Kira, L is reader's brother, but no one's supposed to know, Possessive Behavior, Unhealthy Relationships, Blackmail, Coercion, Sexual Coercion, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, 'good girl's, AFAB reader - Freeform, Misogyny, Workplace Sex, Desk Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Vaginal Sex, this is filthy, I'm so sorry, Manipulation, Top Yagami Light, Jealousy

A/N: Filth! Absolute dirt! I'm the Trash Man! I come out, I throw trash all over AO3, and then I start eating garbage! Enjoy.

"You seem to get along very well with L."

You could practically feel your heart stop when Light said that. You felt so stupid, of course, this guy would figure it out. You tried your best to look unfazed while you panicked on the inside. The black-haired detective and you were trying to keep it a secret from the task force that you were siblings. You cursed Ryuzaki internally, he had been acting kind of protective towards you and it was bound to raise suspicion.

“You think so? I’ve just been trying to be on good terms with everyone.” You deflected.

The investigation room was empty save for the two of you, there was a single monitor showing the news broadcast reporting on the most recent Kira murder. You focused back on the files you were sorting through. Your older brother never cared much for organizing and that drove you mad. You glanced in Light’s direction again, he was staring at you, his gaze sent shivers down your spine, you just forced an awkward smile.

"Did you let him fuck you yet?" He deadpanned.

"W-What the fuck? Of course not!" You answered abruptly. You were offended that Light would even ask something like that. The crude way he said it too, made you blush in embarrassment. You found it weird he'd say something like that, usually Light was nothing short of a gentleman when addressing you.

"Don't get coy all of a sudden. Just admit you two are fucking already." He sounded annoyed now. He got up and got closer to your desk, his eyes never leaving yours. You sometimes felt intimidated in his presence, now in the middle of the night, alone with him towering over you, this feeling increased tenfold.

"T-that's disgusting! Why are you even saying that? We're just… we're just friends, coworkers who get along, whatever!" You started to crack under the pressure.

Light brows furrowed for a second and then his eyes widened in revelation. A grin formed on his face and he burst into laughter like he had finally gotten the punchline to a joke. His laughter was scary, loud and almost maniacal.  You didn't know how to react exactly so you looked at him nervously and confused.

Did he believe you? Did he find the misunderstanding funny? Was that it? You hoped that was it. You offered a weak smile as his laughter died down.

"I was so caught up in this… obsession… this feeling of jealousy… ah. It was obvious all along. You're siblings. Siblings!" He shook his head smiling "This is pathetic. You're becoming such a nuisance with your distraction."

He figured it out, of course it had only been a matter of time. But that realization took way too long for his liking. He was blinded by the rage of the idea of L having you and he didn't stop to consider any other possibilities.

"Excuse me? I didn't-" You got up and started to retort his rude comment.

"Shut the fuck up." And you did so out of shock. Light wasn't like this normally, he was relatively courteous and nice. Why was he so… brutish all of a sudden? He smiled at your obedience. "Good girl."

The praise felt so dirty, you frowned at him. Being infantilized was something you were used to dealing with in the workplace, being surrounded by older men. But Light was pretty much your age, what was he thinking?

You didn't have time to wonder because the man grabbed your collar and pulled you into a kiss.

You tried to push him away instinctively and ask what the fuck he was doing, but Light grabbed your wrists. He held them so tightly it almost marked your skin. Your lips were still closed so he bit them to make you part them. He kissed you aggressively as if he was punishing you for something. his tongue entered your mouth deepening the kiss and claiming your mouth for himself.

He tasted like coffee and sin.

"God, and I thought fucking L's girlfriend was a good idea, this is way better." He sounded extremely amused. "I wonder how is he going to react when he finds out I fucked his pretty little sister?"

Ryuzaki had always had a bad feeling about Light, he mentioned you should be careful around him, you knew all that and here you were. You thought he was being overprotective, to be fair Light wasn't the first guy L had a bad feeling about.

Light's hand was now caressing your hair, smiling content with your current predicament and very proud of himself.

"We… w-we can't." You tried to come up with an excuse. "We work together, so it would be-"

"I am Kira."

You heart stopped when you heard those words. Everything started connections in your head, every lead, every tip, every death. You still had many questions, some things didn't make sense, but as you stood there looking at that man's face it was clear that he wasn't joking.

"W-why are you… telling me this?" You tried to back away slowly. You could hear your heartbeat drumming in your ears.

"Because I feel like keeping you to myself." He smiled sinisterly, every step back you took he stepped forward to approach you again "I was contemplating killing you after pounding your cunt, but I told myself I deserved a little treat."

Hearing him talking about murdering you in cold blood activated your flight instinct immediately. You turned away and rushed towards the door, but as soon as you tried to twist the doorknob and open the door, it was locked. You twisted the knob again and again, desperately trying to unlock it with sheer willpower.

“Stop that, you’re smarter than this.” You heard his voice right against your ear, his hands now grabbing your waist and caressing you through the fabric of your blouse. “There’s only one way you leave this room” he placed a kiss on your neck and you shivered despite yourself “with my cum leaking down your thighs” he grabbed your throat suddenly “and invisibly leashed to me, like a good little pet.”

You were shaking, incredibly aware of Light's bulge pressing against your ass, one hand toying with the hem of your shirt and the other still holding your neck possessively.

"Are we clear, pet?"

You felt his grip tighten a bit so you just quickly nodded your head. It showed to be the wrong answer, because you were punished with a sharp swat to your ass.

"Use your damn words, there's a reason I chose not to gag you." He grabbed your face, forcing you to make eye contact with him. "Say 'Yes, master'."

He was a sick fuck. You wanted to scream at him and call him exactly that. You wanted to push him away and go home already. But god damn it, you wanted to survive this.

"Yes… m-master."

He smiled at your obedience and his grin made you sick to your stomach. He placed a kiss on your temple and pat your hair gently.

"There you go, good girl. That wasn't so hard, was it?" He turned you around quickly and pushed your back against the door. His mouth was on yours again, his hands slipped under your shirt and you shivered feeling his cold touch on your skin. The fabric was restraining his hands so he grew frustrated and started to undress you at once.

"Y-you don't… have to do this, Light. I promise I won't tell anyone, just let me go and-"

"Don't waste your breath. You'll need it when I get to choke you properly…" he answered simply, amused by your perseverance, all the while looking forward to breaking it. "I want to fuck you, so I'm going to do it. I have the whole world in my hands and it's not a little pet that's going to deny me what I want. Understood?"

He tossed your shirt on the floor and started pulling your pencil skirt up. He glared at you for not answering and you promptly spoke up.

"Understood."

He smirked. You felt his fingers trace your slit over your panties, you shuddered and instinctively tried to move away.

"Don't fucking move." His other hand grabbed your waist holding you in place. His tone was harsh and you were so fucking scared.

"Sorry"

"I'm sure you are… Good girl, at least you have manners." He chuckled at that. "Not that your decency matters, look how wet you are for your master…"

He stroked the wet fabric to emphasize his point and you tried to hold back a moan, but it was useless. It felt good, of course it felt good. Light was a hot guy, he obviously knew his way around someone's body and you were only human. His lips captured yours again and he kept playing with your clothed sex as you made out. You could swear you were going insane, the pleasure of his hands on you was intoxicating and his mouth on yours had you gasping for air.

"Get on your knees. Now."

You needed to survive this, you needed to be useful to him. The way he ordered you around did excite you but you needed to stay focused. You were not supposed to feel good, you were supposed to find a way out of this situation.

For now that meant kneeling before Light as he pulled out his cock for you.

You gulped as you eyed him, of course Light Yagami had a big dick, you had to have suspected it. But now you had to give him head and you knew very well he wasn't going to go easy on you. He saw your hesitation and scoffed in amusement.

"Go ahead pet, you want to prove to me you're worth keeping around don't you?" He smiled devilishly at you.

"Yes, master." You murmured and licked your lips. You could do this. And, in a weird way, you kind of wanted to do this, you wanted him to praise you more, to call you a good girl again… you repressed the thought. This is disgusting, Light is disgusting and a murderer. You were strong you won’t fall for his games.

You grabbed his cock by its base and started to gently suck the tip. You looked up at him before taking the whole shaft into your mouth. You sucked him off to the best of your, limited, abilities, trying to get him deeper with each bob of your head. Maybe if he came in your mouth he wouldn’t touch you further, maybe he’d let you go.

Your hopeful thoughts are interrupted by the man’s hand grabbing your hair forcefully, you looked at him and he was grinning like the maniac he was.

“Sit still, let me use your throat a little bit.” His voice was unshaken. You felt a bit annoyed he didn’t seem phased by your efforts. You didn’t have time to dwindle on that feeling because Light was grabbing your face and fucking your mouth as soon as he finished his phrase.

His pace was unrelenting and you felt your spit dribbling down your chin, you tried to breathe in small intervals and you could see him laugh at your predicament. You felt rage but he slowed down his thrusts and started petting your head. Like a kid. Like a pet.

“That’s a good girl, such an obedient little pet…” he breathed and pulled out “Bend over your desk for me.”

Fuck. You were out of breath, you could only nod and do as he said. You didn’t even think of disobeying his order, he praised you again, you were doing a good job… You got up and rested your torso on the desk. He was going to fuck you. Light was Kira and he was blackmailing you into submission. This was an absolute nightmare. So why the fuck were you so turned on?

“You know where you belong, don’t you, pet?” You felt his presence behind you and he pulled down your panties. “Not above anyone, not next to your brother… Not even by my side.” He pulled your hair and you yelped despite yourself “You belong under me.”

He entered you forcefully and you couldn’t help but moan loudly at the intrusion, he didn’t prepare you with his fingers, he didn’t touch you properly at all, it hurt and he knew. But he didn’t give a fuck.

“You should be grateful to your master, whore.” His hand reached around your neck his grip making you gasp. “Tell me you can be obedient.”

“I can!” You cried and you felt his other hand reach between your legs to press your sensitive bud.

“You think you can be useful? Do you think you deserve to live to serve your master?” His thrusts were getting harsher and he groaned “Do you?!”

“Yes, master, please, master!” You begged. To cum, to live, anything. Light held your life in his hands and you were so scared, but so turned on.

“You better....” He grunted and kept on rubbing your clit “I fucking own you. I’m going to cum inside you, going to make you my breeding bitch.”

Oh no. That wasn’t good. That was a bad idea.

“N-no… please not inside” You heard him laugh at your resistance.

“Then tell me… tell me his name.” His name? Fuck. Ryuzaki.

You couldn’t tell him his name. Was he going to kill you if you didn’t? You couldn’t do it. You sobbed and grasped his arm in fear.

“No, I can’t, I can’t!” You cried out shaking your head. The pleasure was overwhelming and you came on his fingers screaming. “I can’t! Ah!”

You saw stars, Light never stopped pounding you as he laughed maniacally at your desperation.

“Know your fucking place… useless cunt.... Fuck-” His laughter died down and he pulled you closer as he came inside you.

You felt his spent dripping down your pussy, you trembled both from the orgasm and from fear of what came next. Light pulled out and turned you around, smiling amused at your scared face.

“Don’t worry, pet, of course I wasn’t counting on a dumb slut like you telling me this information…” He pat your head and you stood there with tears rolling down your face “You’re beneath me, I don’t need you, I don’t need your help. I’ll find out eventually.” He chuckled and wiped away your tears “But I do know your name. So you better behave.” He kissed your forehead. “Won’t you, pet?”

[holylulusworld]

Heavy

This was written for @jay-and-dean​​​‘s 3k celebration.

My prompts were: I had Sam (3rd char) + Someone is hurt + Prompt #11 (“You said that 3 times already, I get it.”)

Summary: It’s Dean’s birthday and everything goes wrong. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, an unnamed boy

Warnings: angst, language, bad luck, birthday blues, it’s Dean’s birthday, getting old, grumpy Dean, hurt Dean, fun, a hint of crack, written in Dean’s pov ;)

Words: 1,7 k

Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics​

 Dean’s PoV

“Son of a bitch,” I grunt, groaning a little too loud as I step out of the grocery store only to drop the bag full of my favorite sins. “No, not the bottle.”

Pathetic, I know. But I want to shed a tear for the wasted booze. It was my favorite and now, it lies abandoned on the sidewalk, broken like me.

It’s my birthday and I wanted to do something nice for myself. I bought pie, booze, beer, and the latest issue of Busty Asian Beauties. Damnit, now I got no money left and my booze is already gone.

My pie swims in a sea of beer and booze and, of course, my Asian beauties didn’t make it out alive. In other words, it's a usual day in my life.

“Fuck this,” I close my eyes, inhaling deeply. “One,” I grunt. “Two.” Fuck, this doesn’t work. “Three.” Whoever dares to even look at me the wrong way will feel my wrath. “Four,” Y/N said this will help me control my anger. “Five.” Yeah, it’s not working at all.

“I need to find something to kill,” I abandon my ruined bag full of goods and walk back toward my beloved car, empty-handed. Now I will spend my birthday alone at the bunker as my brother and Y/N decided it’s time to buy more ancient books. “I love books.”

Boy, I’m still pissed when I open the door to the driver’s seat. I bend down to throw my wallet onto the passenger seat only to hear something crack in my back. I grunt in pain, trying to straighten my back but it hurts so bad I can only crawl onto the seat.

Now I lie with my upper body over the seat while my ass and legs are still hanging out of the car. “Fuck’s sake. You fucking son of a bitch! Today out of all days you want to piss me off?”

“Dude, what happened?” someone snickers behind my back. I know that voice. It’s the annoying kid working at the post office in town. I hate him. He always looks at Y/N as if she’s his latest meal. Fucking creep.

“I love to hang over the seat,” I say, sarcastically. “What else do you want to know?”

“I can see the crack of your ass,” he giggles like a schoolgirl. “Dude…that’s so funny…”

“Fuck’s sake, call Y/N or my brother and tell them I got hurt!” I snarl in the boy's direction, hoping he’ll have enough sense of decency to call someone to help me. “Now!”

“Uh, Y/N is such a sexy minx,” I’d like to strangle the boy, but right now, I can barely move. “Lemme call her. I bet she will love to see me before the weekend. Maybe she’ll agree to go out with me.”

“Damnit, call her,” he steps closer to poke my ass with a stick, at least I hope it’s a stick. “What?”

“I don’t have her number. Can you give it to me?” I hate to give Y/N’s number to that boy, but I got no choice. Fucking life.

“Fine, it’s…” I wiggle on the seat, grunting in pain as the boy dials Y/N’s number. I only hope she won’t strangle me for ruining her shopping trip with Sam.

“She’ll be here in ten,” I sigh, relieved my brother and Y/N didn’t already leave the bunker. At least someone will come for my aid. “Damn, she will see your ass too. I bet she’ll take a picture.”

“I swear, if you take a picture, you are dead by the end of the day,” I threaten. “Y/N will never talk to you too. She will hate you for the rest of her life.”

“Fine, gramps. No pictures of your misery,” the boy chuckles, running off as I lie there on my seat, cursing my back.

“DEAN! Fuck, what happened?” I can hear Y/N’s panicked voice not ten minutes after the boy left my side. “Shit, where does it hurt?”

“My back,” I whine as Y/N moves her hands over my back, fingertips digging into my muscles. “I can’t get up, sweetheart.”

“Dude, what did you do?” the boy is back, and I already look for my gun to shoot him. “You’re really old, huh?”

“I’m forty-two,” I retort. “Forty is the new twenty.” Y/N moves her hands to my pants to tug at the fabric, helping to cover my ass.

“He’s turning forty-three today,” she tuts, hands now moving to my waistline. “Damn, you put a number on your back, huh?” Y/N muses, hands wandering back to my ass to feel me up. “He’s getting old.”

I yelp, hissing in pain seconds later as I moved a little too fast. “Sweetheart do not take advantage of me! And I’m not getting old. I’m like fine wine. Well-aged.”

“Well-aged?” the boy laughs behind my back and boy; do I hate that brat. “You’re an old man, not able to get up. I bet you can’t—”

“Don’t end that line,” Y/N grunts. “Thanks for calling, but now leave us alone, and lose my number. Fucking kids these days…”

“Kids?” I tilt my head to look at Y/N who seems to be lost in thoughts. “Y/N, what are you doing? I need to get back up.”

“Nah, you won’t move, Winchester. You’re hurt, and your back will get worse if you move. Now lie there and wait for Sam and Castiel to come around.”

“You called them too?” I bury my face in the leather seat, sighing deeply. “Great. Sammy won’t stop teasing me. He’ll laugh about his old brother.”

“Just wait here. Lie still and lemme handle this,” Y/N says as she moves her hands back to my ass, squeezing my cheeks. “Hmm…your ass is fine, I guess. Must be the back.”

“What happened?” Sam snorts as I lie on the seat, defeated by my own body. “Dude, you—” he laughs loudly, and I bet he will take a picture too.

“Stop laughing and help me, asshat,” Y/N mutters, pushing my brother toward my car. “Where’s Cas? I need him to heal Dean!”

“He’s unavailable or something. Angel business, ya know,” my brother says, and I fear that I’ll spend my birthday like that, unable to move. “We can handle this, Y/N. We only need to get him into the backseat.”

“Oh, yeah. And how do you want to get that tall guy onto the backseat, genius,” she undoubtedly has her hands on her hips and cocks her head. “I had the same idea, but he’s too heavy.”

“I’m not heavy,” I complain. “Do not call me heavy!” first they call me old and now I’m heavy too? I will kick their asses when I feel better. That’s a matter of fact!

“Aw, you’re cute when grumpy,” Y/N coos in my ear as she leans over me. I feel her hands wander to my waist, and I yelp again as she drags me out of the car. “Sam, his upper body!”

Right in time, my brother grasps for my shoulders, or I would’ve ended up face first in the dirt. “I hate both of you,” I grumble as they carry me toward the backseat of my car. “Hey, careful with the goods.”

“Shut up, you’re heavy,” Y/N pants as Sam tries to shove me onto the backseat. Y/N holds my legs in a tight grip as my brother simply shoves me onto the leather seat, snickering as I whine in pain. “Now, all is good. Heavy man landed on the seat.”

“You said that 3 times already, I get it,” Y/N rounds the car to carefully put her jacket under my head. “Stop saying I'm heavy,” I whine, hating she thinks I’m fat. “I’m not heavy.”

“Aw, you’re so cute,” at least she pecks my head before Sam and her try to get the rest of me into the car, making me cry out in pain as I end up in an odd position. “Fuck, almost done.” She pants while Sam and her work in sync to stuff me into the backseat. I don’t know how, but they made it.

“Done,” I hear my brother grunt. “Happy birthday. You’re getting old…jerk.”

“Bitch,” I snarl in his direction. “I swear, if you scratch my car hippie, you are done for…”

“There, all good now,” I smile up at Y/N, nodding as I feel like I’m walking on air. She gave me the good stuff. Thanks to the pills, my pain is gone.

She and Sam tugged me in bed, and now Y/N is hovering over me like a mother hen, she stuffs pillows behind my back, fluffing them before she covers me with a warm blanket.

“Happy birthday, my heavy hero,” I hope the face I give her is a bitchface, but I’m not sure right now. “You know, I like you are heavy. I can imagine it feels good to have your weight on top of me.

“Sonofabitch,” I slur, looking up at Y/N as she pecks my cheek. “You smell like pie,” I groan as Y/N holds a slice of pie in her hands. “Uh—it’s burning.”

“That’s a candle, Dean,” she laughs wholeheartedly. “Castiel will be back soon. Until then, I’ll nurse you back to life. We will start with eating the pie I baked for your birthday and later, you’ll get some greasy food. If you need more pain meds, I’m your girl.”

“You’ve got the good stuff, huh?,” I look at her, making Y/N chuckle. “What else do you have?” she smirks as I slur the words.

“We prepared a birthday party for you, Dean. I had hoped to celebrate your birthday with you,” she sits next to me to lean her head against my shoulder. “Blow it out and make a wish. But don’t tell me.”

I look at the pie, smirking as I got something dirty in my mind. Of course, I can’t move right now. But when I’m healthy again, I let Y/N feel my weight on top of her with pleasure.

“Dirty old man,” she whispers in my ear after I blow out the candle. I chuckle as Y/N seems to read my mind. “I wouldn’t mind, though. Just don’t hurt your back again while going at it…”

“Sonofabitch…!”

Tags in reblog.

[sundaysundaes]

Started With A Kiss

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Actor AU, Smut, Fluff, Humor | NC-17 | 10K

Summary: Rookie actor, Lee Haechan, desperately wants to get the lead role in the highly anticipated upcoming TV drama. He’s sure he has what it takes to fill the part. Acting as a hero? No problem. Pretending to overcome his traumatic experience? Consider it done. A bed scene? Easy—wait, no. That might be a problem. But he should be fine as long as he gets to rehearse, right?

Warnings:  protected sex, oral sex, crude humor, swearing, literally 10k of sex with very little plot, a lot of playful banters between sassy!hyuck and equally sassy!Y/N

Wrote this for my love Kira @flopim​ who’s been having a tough time lately. I hope this will cheer you up bb! ❤️

“I want you to make love to me.”

Standing there, still dressed in your bright pink pajamas with your hair resembling a bird’s nest, you can only blink once, twice, and several times more because surely, your ears are playing tricks on you. There’s no way that your best friend, the cutely annoying and annoyingly cute, Lee Haechan—the one who’s been practically glued to your skin like a conjoined twin of yours for the last two years—is asking you to make love to him. 

Surely, this is not what you’d expected to see when you opened the door to your apartment, ready to bark at whoever it was who dared to disturb your beauty sleep (since it is seven in the morning on a Sunday), only to see him standing in his blue ripped jeans and black Michael Jackson shirt with his cheeks flushed, his bag hanging loosely on his shoulder, brown eyes desperately begging for your attention. 

And you’re most definitely sure that he’s not asking you to sleep with him when you still have drool on the corner of your mouth and a terrible morning breath (in your defense, you have brushed your teeth but that was, like, six hours ago).

But when seconds have passed and Haechan still looks like he badly needs to hear an answer, you have very little options but to ask, “You want me to do what to who now?”

Catching a sniff of your mighty dragon’s breath, he promptly takes a step back, scrunching his nose while frantically covering half of his face with the script he’s been holding. “Eew, God, what is that smell?” Ignoring your glare, he repeats his words, voice muffled by the papers. “I said, I want you to make love to me.”

“What—”

“Damn it, woman, just brush your teeth and let me in!”

When he’s stomping his feet while whining that loudly—loud enough for your fucking landlord to hear, along with everybody else in the building (including your cute neighbor, Jaehyun, oh dear God, no), he doesn’t give you any other choice but to invite him in, does he?

You step away from the door, flatly muttering, “Please, come in, why don’t you.” Haechan doesn’t waste any second waiting, making sure to run and stay as far away as possible from you so he won’t inhale the poisonous air that’s tainted with your breath again. 

You roll your eyes. Dramatic little shit. But just to be on the safe side, you make your way to the bathroom.

***

The scalding hot shower you just took was comforting but not enough to wash your entire drowsiness away. You’re in dire need of your caffeine intake. “Would you like some coffee, my king?” You ask between a yawn, hands finding their way to the coffee jar on your kitchen counter.

Haechan throws his bag to the floor, body sinking into the comfort of your couch. “With milk, please.”

"I’m kidding.”

“Well, I’m not.” He throws one of those cheeky grins that you adore—no, wait, you hate—as he settles his legs on your coffee table. “Less sugar but more milk. I’m still growing.”

“Growing what, your balls?” You pour him a cup of coffee as requested, yes, because to balance his demonic behavior, you have to act like the perfect angel that you are. “Since you don’t have any?”

“You mean, like your boyfriend?” Haechan retorts before he gasps dramatically, his palm going to his mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t have a boyfriend.”

You hover above him from behind the couch, bringing two mugs filled with sizzling hot coffee. “Want to repeat that?” You tip your mug just a little bit until it nearly spills on his forehead.

Haechan winces, attempting to grin. “I’m sorry, I love you, please don’t ruin my face. It’s the only thing that’s good about me.”

“It surely is.”

“Yah, what does that mean?”

“Take it as a compliment.” 

Sitting next to him, you sip your coffee and curse silently when the liquid burns your tongue. “Okay, so what about this ‘make love to me’ thing you said earlier? Please tell me it’s just a figure of speech or something.”

“I wish.” He drags his legs away from the table so he can lay his cup down because apparently, he means business. “Okay, I know you’re gonna kill me after you hear—”

“After? I’m about to kill you now, actually.” You scoff. “Don’t you remember what we’ve agreed on? You cannot bother me when I’m still too sleepy to smack you in the head, Haechannie.”

“When did we ever—” He stops. “Why are you going to smack me in the head?” 

“‘Cause you’ll say something stupid.”

“Who says I’m gonna say something stupid?”

“You always say something stupid. You’re saying something stupid now!”

“It’s not stupid.” He sighs exasperatedly but when your flat, degrading stare comes into view, it morphs into a groan. “Well, not that stupid. I’ve thought about this—really thought about it—and I can’t find anyone else to do this but you since you’re the only girl I’m friends with. I mean, I can pick random girls, I suppose—you know how popular I am. They just can’t stop talking about me. My hair, my eyes—”

“—your tiny dick.”

“But I don’t want to break any girl’s heart by doing something that’s gonna make them feel like I’m just using them to get a job, you know? I know I’m hot but these good looks aren’t meant to trample people’s hearts.”

“And you don’t care how I’m gonna feel?”

He has the decency to act like he’s thinking about it, but then, “No, not really.”

“Thanks.”

“Look, I really need your help.” He takes it as further as holding your hand between his, puckering his pouty lips, and blinking his eyes in a way that’s cute enough to leave you in daze so you pretend like you’re about to vomit your insides to cover it up. 

Okay, so there’s one thing—one little thing that nobody knows—that you’re too ashamed to admit and that is the fact that you have a massive crush on this boy who sits in front of you with his socks unmatched. Well, no, not massive. It used to be massive during the first few weeks you knew him. How could you not? Haechan was so cute, you wanted to turn him into a doll so you could carry him around in your backpack and squish his cheeks whenever you feel like it. Sure, he’s not all jawlines and dimples like that neighbor of yours (Jung Jaehyun was probably sculpted by God himself ), but Haechan has his own charms. His devilish smirk, his loud, contagious laughter, his naughty eyebrow raise, and his lips—God, his beautiful plump lips, the way they look so pouty and soft. Honestly, you can write a whole essay about his attractive features (not that you haven’t already).

You knew you were crazy for him when the antics he did annoyed the hell out of his friends but to you, he was just plain adorable. And you realized you were pretty much fucked-up when Jeno said, “Fucking Lee Donghyuck said he forgot his wallet and robbed me this morning. Who the fuck orders a freakin’ wagyu steak for breakfast?!” and the only thing you could think of was how nice it was to go on a date with him and how your first kiss with him was going to be like (poor Jeno, though). 

It’s not that you love him or anything. It’s mostly physical, nothing more—at least for now anyway. It’s not your fault that he’s so fucking pretty that he ends up showing every now and then in your fantasy, doing indescribable naughty things that will definitely make Mark splash some holy water on your face if he knew what was going on in your head.

Fortunately, now that you’ve been friends with him for two years, that massive crush you had has turned into something normal, something you can easily hide. And can be forgotten even, whenever another cute guy—like Na Jaemin, for example—takes you out on a date or two. It’s easier to breathe these days.

“Hello? Are you there?” Haechan snaps his fingers, waking you up from your reverie. “What’s your answer? Do you want to make love to me or not?”

‘It’s easier to breathe these days?’ More like fucking kill me. 

“Can you stop saying that?” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You’re giving me headaches.” Or a heart attack, more accurately. “Assume I said yes. Don’t you think it’s gonna get a little weird between us?”

“What is so weird about it?” He throws his hands in the air, exhausted and impatient. “It’s just gonna be two friends, pretending to be in love with each other, hugging, kissing, touching, and having sweet, tender sex.” Realization falls upon him and you resist the urge to exhale loudly. “Yeah, okay, so it is a little weird, but it should be fine, right? It’s just acting. It’s not like you have any feelings for me, do you?”

If by feelings you mean picturing you naked in my head with your mouth sucking on my neck, then yeah, I do have feelings for you. Plenty of that. But on the outside, you say, “Eew, God, no.”

Haechan squints his eyes at your response. “Can’t say I’m not hurt with the way you said it, but eew, God, no to you too. Well, if that’s the case then I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he says, sipping his coffee, and retracts his mouth as soon as the flavor hits his tongue. “What the hell is this?! Did you spit on my coffee or something?”

You didn’t but for your amusement, you throw him a sly grin. “A little.” It’s satisfying to see him looking like he’s about to pass out. “I’m still worried how it’s gonna affect our friendship later on though.”

He simply shrugs. “Meh. We’re not really that close to begin with anyway.” He takes another sip of his coffee by accident and nearly vomits for real. “Fucking hell—take this shit out of my face.”

“I'm still not sure about this, Haechannie.”

“Look, I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to you, we’re just going to pretend! Acting!” He exclaims as if that was the most normal thing a friend could ask another friend. “And you’re gonna be acting out a love scene with someone as hot as me. Consider yourself lucky.”

“Consider yourself dead.”

“Damn it, my audition is in two days and I really want to get this role!” He’s whining, tugging at your hand like a baby as he practically throws himself at your feet, graveling for your mercy. “You’re the only one who can help me with this. How can I act properly if I don’t have enough experience to perform a freaking bed scene?!”

“I don’t think actors who have to play dead have enough experience of, you know, being dead.”

“Excellent point.” Haechan stares at you blankly, unimpressed. “Do you hear yourself when you talk?”

“Do you?”

A few seconds passed by in silence with the two of you exchanging sinister glares until he finally surrenders with a prominent pout on his face. “Fine, if you don’t want to.” Haechan exhales dramatically, his shoulders sagging and when you don’t respond, he sighs again only louder this time. “I guess, I have to force Mark to make out with me. Again.” He sneaks a glance to see your reaction. “And have my face slapped with a Bible. Again.”

You wince at the thought. “How did you force him, exactly?”

“Just…” He timidly scratches his nose. “Kinda attacked him in his sleep.”

You nod in understanding even when it’s the most idiotic thing you’ve ever heard. “Well, maybe he would’ve been fine with it if you had taken him out for a nice dinner before that.”

Haechan smiles a little at your words, and even a little glimpse of it is contagious enough to make your own spread wider on your face. Small chuckles resonate through the air and he playfully bumps his shoulder against yours, his palm resting on your knuckles.

“On a more serious note,” Haechan says, “I know that asking you to rehearse a bed scene with me is too much and way out of line. But I swear, I’m not gonna touch you if you’re so uncomfortable with it. Won’t even hold your hand, I promise.” Then he notices he’s still holding your hand from earlier. He drops it immediately, clearing his throat. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” It’s more than fine. His hand seems to fit yours in a way that nobody ever does but there’s no way you’re gonna tell him that. “So, we’re just gonna be practicing lines?”

“Exactly.” He rubs his nape, suddenly a bit bashful. “Well, I was hoping to at least kiss you—just to, you know, know how it’d feel like.”

“You’ve never kissed before?”

“I have, obviously.” He rolls his eyes, disgusted at your question. “I’m not a fucking virgin if that’s what you’re assuming.”

“Chill, don’t get your panties in a twist. Nah, I know you’re not a virgin from how many times you’ve had sex with yourself.”

“Hey!” 

“But then, why do you need to practice? Can’t you just go straight to your castmates, and kiss the bejeezus out of them?”

Donghyuck runs a hand through his face. “It’s… I’ve never done it for a role,” he professes, faint blush blooming on his cheeks, “And the scene is supposed to be intimate and I’ve never… You know…”

You gesture at him to clarify more with your hands. “You’ve never…?”

“You know…” The color on his face turns brighter. “T-the thing.”

“What thing? Never made-out in public? Never had sex outdoor?” You act clueless just because you’re liking his reaction. “Never had a finger stuck in your ass? What? Please do enlighten me.”

“I’ve never been in love, you witch!” Haechan is adorable when he’s fuming. Nostrils blaring, eyebrows knitting together in an angry frown, scarlet cheeks all puffed out. He looks like a terribly pissed Pomeranian.

Man, if I could just take a picture. “Oh, okay. So have you had your finger stuck in your ass?”

“I swear to God—”

“Kidding. I know you have.” But even when Haechan is nearly ripping your cheeks apart from your face, your giggles are never-ending. “So, you’re nervous?” You snort, raising an eyebrow. “You, the obnoxious, desperate-for-attention Lee Haechan, are nervous?”

“Will you help me out or not?!”

You pretend like you’re contemplating about it when truth is, every part of your body and mind is just screaming what the heck are you waiting for? He’s asking you to rehearse a bed scene—a. bed. scene! And he said he wanted to kiss you, for God’s sake! So, really, what else is there to say but “Okay.”

Haechan widens his eyes. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You try your best to appear nonchalant. “But you’ll owe me a favor. A huge one.”

“Anything,” he instantly agrees, “As long as I’m not dead, you have my words.”

You’re not yet sure what you’re planning to ask him but seeing his enthusiasm, you know it’s going to be good. “Great. So, umm, do you want to do it now or…?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Here?”

“Wherever you want.”

“Man, you’re giving me too much power. I should’ve agreed to this way sooner.” You can practically feel your face splitting in half from how wide you’re grinning. “My room, then? I mean, a bed scene requires… a bed, right?”

Haechan laughs and even after two years, it still sounds like your most favorite thing in the world. “No, it doesn’t necessarily require a bed but sure.” He jumps out from the couch, taking you by the hand, and only by that, you can already feel your heart thumping a tad faster. But the second he walks into your room, he makes a face. “Why does it smell like something died in here?”

“Because something did die. Your dignity.”

The tickling fight doesn’t occur very often between you and Lee Haechan but once it starts, it means war.

***

“Okay, so…” Haechan hands you the script, already opened to show you a page filled with dialogues and short narratives. He scoots closer on the bed, his knee a few inches away from grazing yours as they dangle from the edge. “Just from the top of the page, here.” He points with his finger and you do a quick scan, trying to get a picture of the intimate scene you’re going to do. “So, a quick summary. Your character, Aeri, has been in love with my character, Donghyun. In the earlier scene, you’ve confessed your love to me but I rejected you because we’ve been friends for so long and I didn’t want to ruin what we have. But then, later on, some things happened and I ended up catching feelings for you and this is the part where I’m gonna be telling you how I really feel and then we start kissing and—”

“Then we have sex,” you utter in dismay, but butterflies are erupting from your stomach due to the anticipation.

“No,” Haechan corrects you, “We make love.”

“Is there any difference?”

“There are more feelings involved, not just out of sheer passion. It’s slower. Tender. Intimate.” And when he notices you raising a questioning brow at him, he sighs. “That thing you did with Jaemin? Fucking like bunnies? The opposite of that.”

You mock him by imitating his sigh exaggeratedly and receiving a flick on the nose in return. “Is it just me or is the script pretty lousy?”

He nods. “But they’ll pay you good money for this.”

“I thought the reason you became an actor was to create art not money.”

“When I’m rich, maybe. Right now, I gotta pay for my rent. And apparently, Jeno keeps chasing my ass, forcing me to pay him back. It was just a wagyu steak for fuck’s sake.” He grumbles to himself, momentarily distracted. “Anyway,” he cracks his neck, “I’ve memorized my lines. Wanna give it a go?”

“Okay, let’s try. I guess I’ll be fine if it’s just kissing. Even if it’s with you.” When in reality you’re only agreeing to this because it’s with him.

Haechan’s eyes gleam brighter, ears practically perking up like an excited puppy. “Really?”

“You’re that excited at the thought of kissing me?” You play smug but you could practically hear your heartbeat blasting through your ears. “What else have you been thinking about me?”

“I’m not excited at the thought of kissing you, dumbass,” he spits back, the spark in his eyes vanishes in an instant. “I’m excited that finally I can practice kissing scenes with someone who’s actually willing to do it, and not, you know, like with the back of my hand or something.”

“You…” Failing to hold back a grin, you burst out laughing. “You made out with your hand?”

It’s funny that even when his skin is golden as if it was kissed by the sun, it still shows vividly on his face whenever he blushes. “I didn’t mean it literally—”

“I can’t believe you made out with your hand.”

“Would you just—” He nearly suffocates you with your pillow but you quickly retaliate by kicking him in the stomach.

Tears are prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Man, that mental image of yours making out with your hand will live in my mind rent-free for as long as I live.” When you still can’t stop laughing, Haechan is practically baring his teeth. “Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s get this going. If it gets too uncomfortable for me, I’ll stop.”

“Of course.” 

“At any time I want.”

“Your call.” He nods in agreement with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him do; it almost doesn’t seem like him. 

“Good,” you say. “Now, I’ve never acted once in my life so if you laugh at me, I will sneak into your room at night and pour hot coffee on your computer.”

There’s fear fleeting through his eyes but he gives another nod. “Deal.”

“All right…” You take a deep breath, willing your heart to stop hammering against your ribcages, and for once, focus more on the script instead of the shape of his pretty, pretty mouth. “What are you doing here?” You follow the script, voice a little bit shaky as you’re still embarrassed with everything you’re doing. Haechan closes his eyes and you’re about to throw a joke to tease him about actor Haechan coming alive but when he opens them and gazes at you, you sit still, frozen.

“I wanted to see you,” he says, voice so delicate, it startles you. He’s so serious about this that you don’t find the strength within you to tease him like how you usually do. Somehow, the little gestures he makes, the changes in his expression alter the air along with the tension in the room. Suddenly, it feels like you’re standing next to him under the spotlight, hundreds of pairs of eyes following your every movement. 

“It’s—” You swallow your breath, tongue lays heavy in your mouth. “It's pouring outside, why are you—”

“I love you,” he vocalizes, his eyes gentle and heartbroken. His voice suddenly sounds a pitch lower, reverberating through the air until it sends goosebumps to the tiny hairs on your nape. He waits for your reply and you have to blink twice to slap yourself back to reality.

“W-what?”

“I’m sorry it took me this long to realize, but I do. I’m in love with you, hopelessly so.” He reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. Though he has pretty hands, his fingertips are not as soft as you had imagined them to be, but they feel better, feel real. His warmth is unfamiliar to your skin but it feels more pleasant than anything that ever touches you. “Maybe you’re unaware of this, but it kills me to know that I’ve hurt you because I simply couldn’t be brave enough to accept my feelings. The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.”

Haechan’s lines fit your situation so much that you wish he wasn’t acting. It’s amazing how he’s changing into an entirely different persona and yet, it feels so natural as if he has been that person all along. Your breathing gets heavier as you take a brief look at the script, searching for your lines. “This feels unreal…”

“Do you still love me?” Haechan lifts your face by the chin, his touch is paper-thin. 

You wet your lips, head swirling. “But Donghyun—”

“Do you still love me?” He repeats, emphasizing with his tone. His eyes are peering into yours and you wonder maybe the quote eyes deeper than the sea refers to his gaze. “Or is it too late for me?” His thumb drifts to your lip, caressing your bottom one, your lip balm sticking to his skin. 

“I do,” you reply. He’s so pretty. You’ve never taken a glance longer than a few seconds at his close-up face, but now that you’re in this close proximity, you can finally witness the two tiny moles on his cheek, the beautiful shape of his dark eyes, the delicate curve of his lips… “I do love you, Donghyuck.”

A few seconds of silence hangs in the air when Haechan stops, his eyebrows furrowing. “Umm—it’s Donghyun, actually.”

Fuck! “Right!” You nearly leap out of your bed, face aflame. “Donghyun! Of course! I don’t know why I said that. Donghyuck is your name, I know that—” Fuck, fuck, fuck, just fucking kill me. “Sorry, umm—nervous.”

Fortunately for you, Haechan buys your bluff. “Rookie mistake,” he chuckles and you exaggeratedly roll your eyes to play along. “Okay, let’s start over. Do you still love me?”

“I do,” you respond too rigidly, making him glance away so he won’t break into laughter. “I do love you, Donghyun. Dong-Hyun.”

“Good,” he improvises, as it’s not written in the script. He has a tiny smile on his face and you like to think that it’s just him doing a terrible job at hiding his amusement. But when he swats your bangs out of your eyes, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he seems like he’s seeing the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in his whole life. The adoration in his eyes, his loving gaze—they are so vivid, they nearly consume you. “Because I don’t think I can resist this any longer…”

You’re lost in his eyes, lost in his touch, lost in his warmth. It’s until Haechan nudges his head slightly, indicating you to wake up, you’ve got a line to say, that you jolt, eyes hurriedly going down to the script, seeking your lines. “Umm—“ You flinch. You sound so jittery, it’s terrible. “R-resist what…?”

But Haechan doesn’t pay a mind that you just stuttered from saying two words. He doesn’t ask you to start over. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours, his breath mingling in the air and you can taste the scent of sandalwood and summer. Combined with his soft breathing, you’re almost stuck in a haze, just reeling in the feeling of how this man is now closer to you than he has ever been in the past two years and it’s better than anything you’ve ever imagined.

“Resist this,” he whispers and before you can look down to check whether you have more lines to say, Haechan dips his head, his lips brushing against yours, ever so faintly at first but when you gasp, he presses harder, framing your cheeks with both hands before he moves one down to your waist. Unlike his fingertips, his lips are soft—softer than silk or the cotton candy he once bought you. But it’s not the way they feel or the way he tastes that distract you the most. It’s the way he moves them, parting his lips slightly so he can blend with yours, your lower lip fits perfectly between his plump ones. It’s the way he sighs, so contentedly, as if kissing you was everything he ever wanted.

You close your eyes, hands reaching up to his collar, wanting to feel him more, wanting to touch him—

Haechan breaks away, placing both hands on your shoulders. “How was it?”

You’ve never had someone splash cold water on your face but you figure it might feel something like this. Your voice grows hoarse when you speak. “How was what?”

“The kiss!” Haechan’s eyes are filled with concern, analyzing your expression. “Was it romantic enough? Tender enough? Did it properly convey the desperation and longing my character feels for yours?”

You knew this was a bad idea. You fucking knew it. So, why are you still hurt when he acts like he feels exactly nothing by that kiss? This is just an acting lesson for him. You should have been prepared. 

“It’s good,” you answer, averting your gaze and hiding your eyes behind your bangs. Your heart is still running a thousand miles an hour but somehow, it doesn’t feel as pleasant as before. “So, next scene—”

“Wait, are you okay?” Haechan asks, bending slightly to catch a glimpse of your face. “Was it too much? Do you want to stop?”

Truth is, you’re conflicted. You’re going to catch feelings—you most likely already are. But Haechan only treats you as a friend and nothing more, and this is the only chance you have to be this close to him. The temptation of continuing the kiss, to just hold him close for one more time, stands stronger than anything else so you say, “No. I promised you I’d help.”

He’s still unsure, eyes glinting in concern. “It’s okay if you want to stop, I—”

“Let’s just do the damn scene, Donghyuck.”

Haechan freezes on his seat, eyes searching yours as you now have the bravery to look at his face. Knowing you came on too strong, you try to ease it off with a smile. “I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just my first time doing this—acting, I mean. Can we try again?”

He spends another few seconds trying to decipher the true meaning behind your smile but eventually nods his head at your command. He drags his finger back to the script. “Then, umm… Let’s start from here?”

You don’t even look at the page when you give affirmation. “Go.”

Haechan takes a moment to prepare himself and when your eyes meet each other again, he’s a different person once more. “The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.” His voice is so soothing, you almost forget that deep down you’re immensely upset knowing that the kiss didn’t have the same effects on him.

This time, when he frames your face with his palm, you lean into his touch, eyes never leaving his. “This feels unreal,” you say and for a second—just for a split second—you notice Haechan breaking out of character, surprised by the gentle expression on your face. Because you’re not acting out his script, you’re acting out on your feelings. It’s your only chance to be honest with him without forcing him to respond. So you pour all these feelings you have for him out in the open—ones that started from a mere physical attraction to something more as his presence grew bigger in your life, you’re acting out each and every one of them. 

“Do…” He inhales sharply, trying to focus. “Do you still love me?” He’s doing the same thing as before, placing his thumb and index finger on your chin but before he can say his lines, you see how his eyes fall on your lips.

And you kiss him. You kiss him with everything you have, hands going to his face, fingers slipping between his strands, and Haechan gasps against your mouth, his fingers curling around your wrist. You know he’s about to push you away so you quickly murmur, “I do,” against his lips, breath stuttering, “I do love you.”

When you take his bottom lip between yours, teeth grazing against his supple skin, Haechan lets out an involuntary moan at the back of his throat. The butterflies in your stomach come alive, pumping a rush of adrenaline through your veins and suddenly, you’re brave enough to glide your tongue across his lip. His hold tightens around your wrist but instead of pushing you away, he tugs you closer and you fall into his chest, hands breaking free from his grip to wind around his neck. Your fingertips are scraping against his nape before they move upward to yank at the roots of his hair. “Fuck,” he breathes out, almost inaudibly, as if he didn’t mean to let the word slip from his mouth and it makes your heart jumps straight out of your chest. The second he responds properly, Haechan kisses like fire, all passion and urgency, and you really don’t mind being consumed by his flames.

His hands are on your waist, pulling you closer and closer until you’re almost sitting on his lap before he jolts awake, pushing you away so abruptly, you almost fall from the bed.

“I’m—We—” he stammers, looking everywhere but your eyes. His cheeks are flushed, his lips bruised and red from your kisses. “I think we should—I gotta go—“

He stands up from the bed like the sheets are catching on fire, picking his script from the floor and gathering all his belongings at once before he runs toward the door. He turns on his heels, wanting to say something to fix the goddamn situation, but when his eyes land on yours, his words vanish without a trace. 

“I—I’ll call you later,” he finally says and doesn’t wait for your response. The front door closes with a thud.

And then silence comes to answer.

What just happened? 

Your heart is thundering inside your chest, you’re starting to feel nauseous. What have I done? You keep asking over and over. You thought everything was going to be fine. He responded to your kiss earlier, didn’t he? You were sure you didn’t imagine the whole thing. But now he’s gone and you’re not sure whether he’s gonna come back as the same Haechan—the old, bratty but caring Lee Haechan. The one who snickers loudly when you fall face-first on the ground but always steals secret glances at you to make sure you're not hurt. The one who makes jokes about your love life but never forgets to show up at your apartment with a thoughtful gift right at the minute you turn a year older. 

Things are not just gonna get awkward, they’re ruined.

When nearly half an hour has passed by and you’re still left alone in your apartment with no signs of him coming back, you’re about to go insane. You can’t stay still, walking back and forth your living room with the tip of your thumb between your teeth.

Should I chase after him and explain that it was just me trying to improvise? You hesitate with your hand lingering on the doorknob. But with your knees nearly giving up under your weight, you decide to stay put. It will probably just gonna make it worse. He’ll see through my lies, he always does.

You’re straying away to the kitchen, hands placed on the counter. You can feel your head spinning, stomach somersaulting. Damn it, why did I have to do that?! Why couldn’t I just— 

The front door slams opened and Haechan barges in with his hair messy, ruffled by the wind, and his bangs sticking to his temple. Stunned, you stand still on your ground. Your heart is the only one that’s moving beyond control. His eyes scan your apartment until they land on yours and for an instant, everything seems to fade away.

“Fuck it,” he says, dropping his bag to the ground and making his way towards you in such a hurry, he nearly trips over his feet. “You’re not that good of an actor to be faking it.” Before you have the chance to even take a breath, Haechan’s lips are smashing against yours. 

“Hae—” Haechan’s kiss is insane. So forceful that you can barely keep up, taking every bit of air directly from your lungs. He has you backed against the kitchen counter, the marbled edge digging into your skin. His hands frame your face, sliding against your cheek until they cup the backsides of your neck, his thumbs resting against your ears. You curl your fingers around his wrist, gasping, “Wait—”

He pulls away, lifting your face so you can’t bring your gaze anywhere else. “You like me?” His eyes are just as intense, begging for answers. “Please tell me I’m not imagining this.”

But behind that passion, his confidence is wavering. You can tell by his quivering breath, the little tremble running through his fingertips, and at that, you’re drowning in relief. You don’t think he’s that good of an actor to be faking this too. 

“I do,” you admit, heart pounding so loudly that you can barely hear your own voice. “I like—”

His mouth is on yours again and it feels like he’s kissing you in a hundred different places at once. “Jesus Christ, why have you kept quiet about this for so long?” he says, tasting your breath and skin at the same time. “Two fucking years. We wasted two fucking years.”

The words this isn’t happening endlessly run through your head but all your senses scream that Haechan is really here, in your arms, his nails clawing against your shirt and there’s nothing left you want from this world.

When you reciprocate to him properly, your palms sliding up his chest, over his shoulder, until your arms circle his neck, Haechan sighs in content. His kisses grow slower—more relaxed—but deeper, his tongue peeking out shyly at first but not for long. He still tastes faintly like the coffee you made and something else entirely different. Something pleasant that’s just exactly how you’ve fantasized him to be, if not more.

He pulls away to catch his breath with his eyes still focusing on your lips, thumb rubbing your lower one. “Does this feel weird to you?” He whispers, his temple pressing against yours.

You’re intoxicated by his sweet scent though you’re not sure whether it’s the smell of his shampoo, his cologne, or just him altogether. “No,” and as soon as the word comes out, his lips are chasing after yours once more.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t think I can stop.” He’s breathing heavily against your mouth as you are against his. With his fingers twisted in your hair, making a messy ponytail out of it, Haechan peppers open-mouthed kisses on your neck, tongue pressing against your pulsating vein and a whimper escapes your mouth.

Your dreams, your fantasies—they all fall pale in comparison to reality. When you vocalize his name, it almost sounds like a plead and Haechan slants his mouth back on yours again, giving you another taste as he is not satisfied with yours just yet. “Your lips taste amazing,” he breathes out and it’s so quiet, it seems like he’s intending to say the words in his head and not with his mouth. But as his words fall on your ears, they send tingles down your spine.

“So do yours,” you reply, attempting to make him blush in return but if he does, he doesn’t show much. “Never pegged you as a man who wears lip balm.”

You can feel his smirk directly with your skin. “I’m not wearing any.”

“You’re not?” You lightly giggle, swiping your tongue across his lower lip. “Then your lips do taste amazing.”

Haechan’s hand is slipping underneath your shirt, fingers hovering above your bra. “Guess there are still a lot of things you don’t know about me, huh?”

“I’ve got a hunch you’re about to teach me?”

“Only if you’re eager to learn.”

The kiss becomes heavier that you’re lost for words, entirely consumed by his passion, until he breaks away, muttering, “Off, off, off, off, off,” as he struggles to tear the fabric away from your body. You titter at his desperation, raising both hands to help him out of his misery. The second it’s off, he lifts you by the waist and places you down on the counter. 

“I’m amazed you could lift me,” you coo, admiring the sight of his lean stomach as he pulls his shirt over his head. His silver necklace hangs loosely around his neck and you hook a finger around it to yank him back to you.

He doesn’t seem to be able to detach his lips from yours for too long, especially when you keep sneaking glances at his. So when he speaks again, his every word is painted directly to your skin. “It wasn’t easy.” He settles between your thighs, mouth latching against your collarbone. “You weigh a ton.”

“Yeah?” You bite your lip, holding back a moan as he sucks bruises on your neck, the edge of his fingers trailing over the seam of your bra. “Then you must be so strong.”

“I am, haven’t you noticed?” Haechan pulls away just to showcase a mischievous grin. “I work out, you know.”

You blurt out laughing. It’s not solely because of the mental image of Lee Haechan—a full-time gamer, Lee Haechan—doing push-ups seems so funny to you. It’s more about the way he wiggles his eyebrow, trying to be sexy about it when you know he’s the weakest one in your group. Flustered at your reaction, he flicks your nose. “What is so funny?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize though it doesn’t seem that much sincere with the way you’re still giggling at him. “It’s just that an hour ago we were two friends making fun of each other and now we’re here, in this position. I don’t know, it just feels surreal to me.”

An adorable pout blooms on his face. “I thought you said this didn’t feel weird.”

“No, it’s perfect. I want this.” You wrap the end of his necklace twice around your index finger. “I want you. It’s just… I’ve been imagining this to happen for such a long time and now that it’s happening, I’m feeling a lot of things at once.” You place a reassuring kiss on his temple. “I’m nervous.” This time landing one on his cheek. “I’m relieved.” When your lips hover above his, you notice him parting his own slightly in anticipation. “And it feels so good, I don’t ever want to stop. Even if that means we can’t go back to being friends.”

Haechan can’t form a response as you don’t let him, your mouth swallowing the tiny moans he emits. “We’ll talk about that later,” he hastily replies, “I still haven’t had enough of you yet.”

Without warning, he lifts you off the counter, making you yelp and wrap your legs around his waist for support. “Haechannie!” With you holding onto him, he takes a step forward, ignoring your call. “Where are you taking me—"

“Wait, no, back pain, back pain.” Both of you nearly tumble down to the ground from how he’s harshly placing you back to your feet, wincing at the ache erupting from the strained muscles in his spine. He’s groaning in pain, massaging his back with both hands. “Fuck, you’re really heavy!”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady.” You throw your slipper at him, missing his head just a few inches, laughing all the way. “What exactly were you trying to do?”

“I was trying to move us to the couch.”

“All you had to do was ask.”

“I was trying to be sexy.” He juts out his lower lip, and it takes all control of your body to not squeeze his cheeks from how adorable he looks.

“Honey, you are sexy, believe me, but you’re also weak as fuck. Consider hitting the gym for real next time and then carry me.”

“Shut up,” he sighs, holding out a hand for you to take. “To the couch, please? And maybe a massage after this ‘cause my back is killing me.”

Shaking your head in amusement, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his and drag him over to the couch. He’s in the middle of asking, “Do you want me to be on top or—” when you push him down and straddle his lap without warning, legs tangling around his hips. “Oh, okay.”

You run a hand through his hair, pushing them back so you can witness the glow in his eyes. “You look sexier with your hair pushed back.” You love the way he stares at you, eyes half-lidded painted with lust and desire. And combined with your commentary, he now has his cheek tinted with red. “Do you have a problem with me being on top?”

His eyes quickly run down to the place where your denim shorts are riding up your thighs, your zipper pressing against his groin. With a noticeable gulp, he stutters out, “N-no.”

You smile, patting his cheek. “Good.”

The kiss starts slow as you focus more on moving your hands down his body. Haechan shivers a little when your palm is pressing against his bare chest, sliding down to his navel. When you pull back, raising a questioning brow at his reaction, he bashfully says, “Your hand’s cold,” looking like a nervous little boy who’s a stark contrast to how he usually behaves.

He’s so cute.

“Well, I know a way to warm you up.” You smirk, almost cringing when you hear your own words but Haechan seems to like it.

“Oooh,” he coos, grinning against your lips. “Are you offering what I think you’re offering?”

“I don’t know.” You kiss your way down from his jawline to his chest, pushing yourself off his lap so you can kneel on the floor, your fingers unbuckling his belt. “What do you think I’m offering?”

Haechan’s eyes are glowing with anticipation. He curves his fingers around the edge of his seat, wetting his lip nervously when you pull his zipper down. You release him from his boxer, stroking him to life and he sinks his nails further into the couch. A train of expletives breaks free from his mouth but he’s so quiet, you can only hear his ragged breathing.

But by the time you run your thumb over his slit, your hot breath hitting his sensitive skin, Haechan melts into a whimpering mess. “Please don’t tease,” he begs.

“I haven’t even started, Haechannie.” And he looks like he’s about to say something but it only turns into a mewl when you press a kiss to his tip. “You’re so cute,” you comment, and he shivers when the vibration of your voice meets his skin. 

Haechan tries to act composed. “Of course I’m cute, it’s—” 

You cut his line short by darting out your tongue, giving kitten licks at the side, smiling satisfyingly when his eyes meet yours. As you give him a little suck around his tip, he throws his head back, his lower lip between his teeth. “I—I said don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing you.” But you are. How can you not? He looks so fucking cute. You’ve never really enjoyed giving head before, especially when your opponent gets rough and ends up pushing too deep until you gag. But with Haechan, you feel like you can do this for hours. He’s so nervous and shy, doesn’t even dare to place his hand on your hair, and his reaction to every bit of your action is honest even when his words aren’t. 

“Here.” You take one of his hands, moving it to your head. “You can use me as much as you want.”

“Use—” he crumbles at your choice of words. When you suddenly envelop him with your mouth, moving from the tip to the base in one quick motion, Haechan instinctively grabs a handful of your hair, flinching. “Goddamn, why are you so fucking hot?”

You giggle, sliding his cock out of your mouth with an obscene pop. “Thanks.”

“No, I mean your mouth. It’s so fucking warm.”

“So, you’re saying,” you dip your tongue into his slit, eyes seductively peering into his. “I’m not hot?”

“You’re—Fuck, fuck—” Haechan seethes, hips buckling when you bob your head down again, tongue pressing against his veins. Shivers run through his fingertips when he slips them between your locks, pushing your fringe back to have a good look at your face. You catch a glimpse of him, his lips unconsciously moving to form words that you can’t hear. So pretty, he seems to say, and the thought of it makes your stomach lurch in delight. Taking him completely in your mouth, you hollow your cheeks, swallowing around him. He tightens his hold around your hair, cheeks flushed and you expect him to hold you in place so he can thrust against your mouth but what he does is pull you away. “Stop, stop, stop, stop.”

Wiping a string of saliva away with the back of your hand, you ask with a frown. “Something’s wrong?”

Haechan hides his reddening face behind his fingers, quietly answering, “I was about to come.”

You hold back a grin. With a nonchalant hum, you dip your head down again, this time engulfing him until he hits the back of your throat.

“Jesus Christ.” His sanity is deteriorating, he can feel it.

“Don’t bring Lord’s name when I have your dick in my mouth, Haechannie. Mark would kill you if he knew.”

“Fuck Mark. Come here.” He rushes forward, forcibly pulling you up with both hands clamping your arms. When you follow his order, settling back down on top of his lap, he confesses with his lips grazing against the shell of your ear. “I really won’t last long if you keep doing that.”

Despite your previous teasing and confidence, you squirm inside his arms, feeling warmth spreading from your chest to your cheek. “So I have these effects on you?”

He’s almost growling when he retorts, “You don’t even know.” Haechan pushes your bra strap until it falls off your shoulder, teeth marking your supple skin until you hiss in both pain and pleasure. He presses a softer kiss to soothe away the bruise. “Sorry, I… You’re gonna need to cover it up tomorrow.”

“It’s fine.” You stroke his cheek, tracing the tiny mole on his jawline. “Seems like you have a biting kink.”

He sheepishly chuckles, “I don’t know. But if you let me, I’d love to do that again.” 

Something about him saying it in the most sincere way possible, almost too formal even, makes you crave more for him and everything he does. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want with me, Lee Donghyuck.”

Haechan swallows hard, barely has the bravery to look at you in the face after hearing your words and his real name tumbling out of your mouth. His fingers are now on the hem of your shorts, trembling a little bit. “Umm—may I?”

Helping him further, you stand on your knees, unclasping your bra first to his surprise and pulling your denim shorts and panties down to your thighs. Haechan watches with his eyes wide open, mouth parted in awe as he commits every bit of your curve and movement into memory. It feels so thrilling to be this wanted, to be ravished by his eyes, until you begin to struggle to push your clothing away from your legs.

“Need some help?” He asks, lips pursing as he tries to hide a grin. 

You exhale loudly, detaching yourself from him. “Let me just—” You jump off his lap, standing back with your feet on the ground, and kicking the clothing away with annoyance—why in the world did you have to wear shorts this tight—and slap him in the chest when he’s chuckling at the sight. 

“Maybe you should stop trying to be sexy too,” Haechan snickers.

“Shut up.” You crawl back into his lap. “Go back to staring dumbly at me like before. I’m naked.”

“I wasn’t staring like tha—oh,” he inhales sharply as you grind your heat against his cock, amazed at how warm you are despite your cold palms. The sensation of skin meeting skin feels much more different. There’s really no going back this time. Somehow, it feels dangerous, as if you’re doing something forbidden and it makes your skin crawl with excitement.

And by the look on his face, seems like he feels the same way.

“Lost for words?” You taunt him with a smirk, hands on his chest. “That’s new.” His glare is menacing but it falters away the second you rub your arousal against his. 

His head falls to his shoulder, eyes tightly shut. “God, baby…”

There it is again. The funny feeling in your stomach. “Baby?” You simper though your heart is palpitating like crazy. “We’re moving on to giving each other pet names now?”

If he can blush any harder than this, he probably might but with the way you’re grinding shamelessly on his cock, letting him get a glimpse of how wet and warm you are, he’s all maxed-out. 

His earlobe lays between your teeth when you whisper, “Shall we put it in?”

Haechan’s nails are sinking into the skin of your hips, both to hold you in place so you’ll stop torturing him and to press you down harder on his crotch. “I…” He’s so distracted, he can’t even think. The way the side of his length is pressing against your folds is pushing every little bit of self-control he has to the back of his head.

“Haechannie?” You giggle, moving your hips. “I kinda asked you a question here.”

“Yes, fuck, yes, please.” Haechan tries his very best to not sound that desperate for your touch but he is that desperate. “Wait—aren’t we—shouldn’t I wear a condom first?”

You blink, halting your movement. “You brought a condom with you?”

He nods as he leans forward, fingers searching frantically at the pocket of his jeans that hang low on his knees. “Here.”

“Why do you have a condom with you?”

“‘Cause I bought it downstairs just now.”

Your jaw grows slack at the realization. “Is that the reason why your hair was so messy and you were sweating when you barged in here? ‘Cause you ran downstairs, trying to find a condom?”

“I’m sorry, are you really complaining about this now?”

At the feeling of his member twitching underneath you, you sigh. “You’re right. Let’s discuss that later.”

It feels a bit awkward when you stand on your knees, giving him some space and wait until he finishes wrapping the rubber around himself. The silence that hangs between you is almost deafening that by the time he’s done and you fall back to his lap, sitting on his thighs, it feels like you have to start over again.

You diffidently smile. “Hey.”

Haechan is equally as embarrassed, mirroring your gesture. “Hi.”

“I guess we’re gonna have sex.”

“Guess so.”

Another few seconds pass by where you can only meet each other’s eyes, feeling your heartbeat racing louder and louder. It feels like you’re about to burst, honestly, but fortunately for you, Haechan leans in, his fingers tentatively caressing your cheek. “Can I kiss you?” He questions.

You melt under his gaze, his gentle touch, his honey-like voice. “Yes, please.”

Your lips start the connection and the rest of your body follows, fitting every curve of his perfectly like you were made for him. The way Haechan sighs against your mouth sends sparks of electricity all the way down to your toes and you don’t waste any more time. With his mouth latching on your breast, tongue flicking against your nipple, you lower yourself on him.

Haechan’s hold your waist tighter, eyebrows adjoined in the middle at the sensation, his moans muffled. He presses his spine back against the couch, admiring the sight of his member disappearing inch by inch into you. His eyes begin to droop when he’s completely sheathed inside, his bruised lips parted. He cups your cheek, kissing you softly on the corner of your mouth, making you shiver at the sudden tenderness. “I guess we are having sex,” he murmurs with a bashful smile.

You can’t help but laugh a little. “I guess so.” 

It starts slow, with you placing both hands on his chest and him swallowing his breath at the sight of you moving up and down his length. You hiss slightly at the friction, adjusting to his size. 

“Does it hurt?” He asks, tucking a few loose strands behind your ear. 

“A little.” You reassure him with a grin. “Relax, you’re not gonna break me.”

You expect him to send back a snarky remark but what he does is press his forehead against yours. “You’re so warm,” he whispers, tasting the skin that connects your shoulder to your neck. Something about his words, his sensual kiss and his tender touch makes you squeeze your walls around him and he clutches harder around you. He glides his hands lower to your hips, silently urging you to pick up the pace and you follow.

Breathing heavily, Haechan has his thumb grazing your lower lip. “You have such a pretty mouth,” he professes as if he was in a trance.

You seductively bite his thumb, still working your hips. “You’re saying that ‘cause I just sucked your dick.”

“Yes, that too, but really.” It’s as if he’s staring at a work of art, eyes twinkling with admiration. Sometimes, when you’re hitting the right spot and quiver around him, a small moan escapes his lips and you feel him twitching inside you. “It’s—ah—It probably doesn’t sound sincere when I’m saying this now, but I’ve always thought you had a pretty mouth. And lips. I’ve thought about your lips a lot.”

“Yeah?” You mouth against the sensitive skin below his ear, sinking harder on his length. “What else do you like about me?”

“Y-your voice—” You can actually feel him shivering. “You have such a—fuck—I just—I really love your moans.” 

You’re not sure whether he’s saying that because he’s so distracted with the way you’re breathing in his ear or he genuinely loves it. Either way, it’s a pleasure to know how much you’re affecting him with your actions. With a chuckle, you say, “You’re rambling, baby.”

“And your hair,” he adds, probably losing every bit of his self-control by this point. “I love your hair. Looks so soft.” Haechan cards his fingers through your strands. “Feels so soft.”

You hum in response, hoping that your flushed face doesn’t look as apparent as you think. “Anything else?”

“Your—” He shudders when you paint a mark under his collarbone. “Your ass.”

You stop, pulling away to give him a look and he whines at the loss. “My ass?”

“What—” The tips of his ears are turning red, steam practically coming out of them. “Why are you staring at me like that—you have a great ass!”

Teasing him is such a joy to you. “Then, let’s do it this way.” You part away from him, landing back on the carpeted floor so you can turn around, giving him the chance to ogle at your behind, before you ease yourself down onto his lap once more. 

“Fuck—” Haechan’s hisses, his hands going down to your hips again. The new position doesn’t allow you to meet his eyes but with the way he’s whimpering behind you, fingers trailing over the curve of your ass, the sensation increases.

“You okay back there?” You taunt smugly, chuckling a bit because Haechan sounds like he’s losing it. His nails are sinking into your skin and you just know that’s gonna leave a nasty bruise tomorrow. “You seem like you’re enjoying this way too—“ You’re interrupted by your own moans when he suddenly has one hand massaging your breast and another one sliding down your stomach to find your clit. “W-wait, Haechannie—”

“You’re such a tease,” he breathily whispers into your ear, his chest pressing against your spine as he leans forward, pulling you into his embrace. “Isn’t that supposed to be my job?”

His fingers are rubbing you in circles, making your thighs tremble. “You’re right.” You move your hips harder, going out of rhythm with how fast you’re going and Haechan sinks his teeth to your shoulder again.

At the sound of his name departing your lips in the most sinful moan he’s ever heard, Haechan curses. “Shit, you’re not gonna let me enjoy this longer, are you?”

“There’s always a second round, Haechannie.” You smirk, raising your hips all the way up in intention to slam it back down again but Haechan catches you and pushes you forward until you land on the coffee table, stomach pressing flat against the wooden surface. “What—"

“There’s always a second round, right?” His lips are brushing against your ear as he positions himself behind you. “Then I’m going all out.”

When he slams his hips in one swift motion, hard and deep, he knocks all the air out of your lungs. “Wait—” You choke out, can barely keep up with his pace. “Oh God—”

“Now, now,” he coos, his hand finding its way to your throat, fingers pressing against your veins. He raises your face, his chest completing the dip of your spine. “Don’t bring God’s name when I’m fucking you like this, baby.”

You can’t even find the strength to retort, eyes shutting tightly until you see stars behind your eyelids. It almost feels unreal how fast he can go from being awkward and tentative about all of this to raw and wild within a few minutes but Haechan has always been fast adapting to new situations and you have been teasing him way too much. It’s about time that he snaps. 

Haechan moves you down to the floor, forcing you to stand on all fours and you’re so glad you follow his lead. “Spread your knees. Bring your head down,” he instructs and you do as you’re told, extending your arms in front of you. Haechan has his hand on the dip of your shoulder blades, holding you still until you have no choice but to press your cheek against the carpeted floor, ass in the air. “Good girl,” he praises, kneeling behind you and rubbing his tip along your folds. “Ready, baby?”

He doesn’t wait for your answer.

With only a few minutes in, you know you’re getting close, you can feel it. He has switched from giving deep, hard thrusts to quick, shallow ones and it’s driving you insane. “H-Haechannie, I—” you whimper, “I’m close—”

And he knows it too, of course he does. He can tell by the way you’re clenching around him. But instead of going harder and driving you completely over the edge, Haechan suddenly laces his fingers with yours, his lips painting soft kisses from your nape down to your spine, his hips hitting another angle that feels just as amazing even when he slows down the pace. The intimacy surprises you as you don’t expect him to be this tender. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like you’re doing this out of sheer passion. With his palm covering the back of your hand, fingers slipping between yours, somehow, everything feels more sentimental, stronger, crossing the lines.

With a moan of your name, Haechan flips you to your back, fingers framing your face, lips meeting lips as he thrusts back in, gasping against your mouth. “I want to see your face,” he says when he pulls away, his half-lidded eyes boring into yours, thumb slipping between your lips. “Not sure if I’ve told you this before but…” He snaps his hips, and you tangle your legs around them in response, fingernails digging into his upper arms. “You’re so beautiful.”

The knot in your stomach untangles without warning and your orgasm hits you so hard, you nearly sob at the sensation. With the way you’re quivering and squeezing around him, Haechan follows right after, his face sinking into the crook of your neck, hips stuttering as he rides out his own orgasm.

***

With his jeans back on and his used condom thrown away to the nearest trash bin, Haechan joins you back on the carpeted floor as you still haven’t found the strength to get up and get dressed after that. He shamelessly lays his body down on top of yours, his cheek pressing against the valley of your breasts. “I’m spent,” he mumbles, feeling drowsy.

“Haechannie?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re heavy.”

“I know.” But he doesn’t get up, only moving his head slightly to press a tiny kiss to your bare chest before he lies his head down over your heart again. You give up with a smile, wrapping your arms around him, fingertips stroking his hair. Haechan sighs contentedly under your touch. “Man, that was…”

“That was?”

“Amazing.” He props himself up on his elbows so he can meet your eyes. “You’re amazing.”

Your heart jolts at the sincerity in his words but you cooly smile back. “I know.”

“And I’m amazing too, I’m sure?”

“Meh,” you shrug. “Could be a little better but I’ll let you practice on me for free.”

“Jesus Christ.” He shakes his head, his strands tickling your nose. “I don’t even have the strength to join your banter. You know, I’ve always wondered since you’re pretty much shit at everything, there must be something you’re good at. But I never thought that something would turn out to be sex. I can’t even believe I’m saying this but you’re really, really amazing at it. I feel like I should give you a medal or something.”

“Thanks,” you flatly mutter. “Not sure if you’re praising me, though.”

“Oh, I am praising you, believe me. And you know me, I rarely praise.” 

“Stop it,” you use your robotic voice. “You’re making me feel so special, I’m about to cry.”

Haechan playfully nips at your nose, forcing you to break off your act and laugh directly into his mouth. “Seriously,” he says, breaking off the kiss. “If I were to pay you for sex, I would give you everything I own. Even the clothes I’m wearing. Hell, I’d even sell my grandma but don’t tell her that.”

Your laughter has reduced into small giggles. “That’s comforting.”

“So…” The way Haechan is caressing your hair is so soft, almost like a mother to her sleeping child. “What should we do about this?” When you raise an eyebrow, he tensely adds, “Do you, umm… I mean, do you want to, like—”

“You’re rambling.”

“I know, God, I’m so nervous! I may look like a naughty, sexy bad boy—”

“No one is saying that—“

“But I actually suck at this—as in, I don’t really know how to date a girl.”

“You don’t even know how to talk to a girl, based on the conversations we’ve had,” you comment and you know it’s not helping but it’s worth seeing his adorable pout. “Then don’t date me. If it’s hard for you to date, then let’s just keep being friends—"

“But I want to continue this!” He says it so fast and firmly that you don’t even have time to feel hurt about your offer. 

It’s not like you crave a relationship with him—you haven’t thought about it that far—even just holding him like this is enough for now, so the fact that he’s so excited to have this going makes your heart swells with joy. “Well then, we’ll be friends who have casual sex anytime we want,” you suggest.

He blinks twice, a bit amazed at your offer, but to your surprise, he seems rather… disappointed? “What happens if we start catching feelings?” He quietly asks.

“Then I guess we’ll start dating for real.”

“Then…” He runs a hand through his hair, nervous. “What happens if I already have feelings for you?”

He states it so quietly, it’s a miracle you can even hear him. “Do you want to date me, Haechannie?”

He looks away, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Do you want to date me?” He murmurs against your skin, unsure and flustered.

You heave the heaviest sigh you’ve ever done in your life. “You’re unbelievable. I’ll decide for us then. Starting now, we’re dating.”

He lifts his head, and if he were a puppy, he would’ve had his tail wagging behind him, even when his face doesn’t show much. “That easy?”

“That easy. What, you have something to complain about?”

“No.” He grins, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “Hey, girlfriend.”

“Ugh, get off me, you’re gross.”

But no matter how hard you push your palm against his face, Haechan only giggles and turns you around so this time, you’re lying on his chest. “So,” he pushes a few strands of your hair behind your ear. “You like me, huh?”

“No, what makes you think that way?”

“Says the girl who just slept with me.”

“I slept with you ‘cause I was just curious about your dick. Jeno said you had a dick that was the size of his thumb.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Didn’t you see his InstaStory last night?” You reach up to gather your phone from the coffee table. “I took a screenshot of it actually. Man, you should’ve seen the comments. They’re hilarious.”

Snatching your phone away, Haechan runs his eyes along the words written on the screen. “That son of a bitch!”

Simpering, you sneak a peek under his boxer. “Well, he’s not wrong.” 

“Oh, it’s on,” he deadpans, throwing your phone away and pushes you back down on the floor. His eyes glinting mischievously. 

“What are you doing?” You’re still half-laughing when he brings your hands over your head, holding your wrists together with one hand as he settles between your thighs, his fingers hovering dangerously close.

“I’m gonna make you take your words back.” He wets his lip, one corner of his mouth turning upward. “Time for the second round, baby.” 

***

[coconutstars]

Show me you’re sorry p.1

Pairing: Stiles + Reader Summary: Your boyfriend, Stiles, accidentally stands you up and now has to show you just how sorry he is. A/N: I’M BACK! (temporarily anyway). This time with a pre-smut fic. It’s pretty much a non-smut fic leading up to a smut fic. You’ll all get it when you read it. Anywho, enjoy. 

You Friday 08:25p.m.  Where are you?

Friday 08:33p.m. Stiles? Where are you?

------------------------------

Stiles❤

Friday 08:58p.m. Sorry, practice is running late

------------------------------

You Friday 08:59p.m. Stiles, I’ve been sitting here for an hour already. Hurry up.

Friday 09:10p.m. Don’t bother coming. I’m going home.

-------------------------------

*Missed call from Stiles ❤︎ 09:15 p.m. *Missed call from Stiles ❤︎ 09:24p.m. Missed call from Stiles ❤︎ 09:27p.m

You were pissed. You’d been sitting at the restaurant for over an hour waiting for Stiles. Sure, it wasn’t his fault practice was running late but still. He could’ve at least had the decency to call or text. Tonight had been a big deal and you’d worked hard to make it special. Made a reservation several weeks in advance and spent hours dolling yourself up. 

Getting into your car, you drove home in rageful silence, not even bothering to turn on the radio. You were to occupied thinking about all the things you wanted to say to Stiles when you saw him. Like how stupid you’d felt sitting alone at the candle-lit table with everyone’s pitiful gazes on you. It’d been humiliating.

Pulling into your driveway, you locked your car and took the two steps up to your front door. The whole house bathed in darkness, and you almost tripped on a pair of your beat up-sneakers in the hallway. Your parents had told you numerous times to put them away. Lucky for you; neither of them were home to tell you off.

Kicking the shoes to the side, you made your way to the kitchen and grabbed a snack from the fridge. Since Stiles hadn’t shown up, you’d left the restaurant with nothing but broken pride and a rumbling stomach. You contemplated cooking something for yourself but ultimately decided against it. It was easiest to just order in a pizza.   Grabbing your phone, you ignored the missed calls and texts from Stiles and went to phone in your order when the doorbell rang. You had a hunch who it could be and deliberately took your time getting down the stairs.

“I’m sorry” Stiles mumbled in his husky voice when you opened the door. He smelt like soap and fresh cotton and was standing in nothing but sweatpants and a t-shirt, his eyes pleading. Instead of answering, you leaned up against the doorway and scrutinized him carefully, his bare skin prickled from the cold.

“I’m really Sorry.” he repeated, looking you straight in the eyes. You quickly ignored the warmth spreading in the pit of your stomach. “It’s fine” you declared coldly, adverting your eyes. “Now can you go? I have stuff to do” Instantly he took a step towards you   “Hey, can we talk about this?” “Talk about what Stiles, the fact that you stood me up?” you snarled, folding your arms across your chest. “I didn’t…” he began. “I didn’t stand you up... coach had us running laps then Greenberg got wiped out and…” he let out a sigh. “I couldn’t leave”.

“Well you could have told me!” You sputtered loudly, “I sat there for a damn hour Stiles!  Just waiting for you. You wouldn’t answer my text or pick up my calls- I felt like a moron just sitting there waiting for you! “ Overwhelmed with feelings, you turned your back to him and walked back into the house, not wanting him to see the tears of frustration welling up in your eyes.

The front door closed and seconds later a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist. “I know” Stiles mumbled; his voice smooth like honey. “I’m sorry” He buried his face in the curve of your neck. “I’m sorry” he repeated, grazing his lips against your skin. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” with each apology, he moved his mouth till he found the sweet spot just below your ear. An involuntary moan escaped you lips. “Does that mean you forgive me?” he whispered. “wouldn’t be so sure of it, Stilinski” you mumbled back, your lips curving into a smile.

He had you. He knew it and you knew it. Your anger had washed away the moment he took you in his arms. Now nothing seemed to matter except his lips against your skin, his body pressed to yours.   In a soft motion, he spun you around to face him. Your eyes connected and the corner of his mouth lifted into a crooked smile. “I love you” he said, his words sending a wave of warmth through your body. “I know” you replied without hesitation.

Leaning in, you brushed your lips against his. “Show me” you mumbled with a mischievous grin. Stiles pulled back enough to see the expression on your face. “What?” Your tone dripped with insinuation. “I want you to show me that you love me” Instantly something in Stiles eyes changed. The golden irises darkened as the boy next door in him slowly faded away. “show me” you prodded, pulling at the waistband of his sweats. “that you’re sorry”.

[herohikara-wol]

FFXIV Write 2K22 - Prompt 6

Onerous

Hero’s preparing for his Eternal Bonding Ceremony to Zenos as per Garlean Tradition, and has an echo memory far more invasive than normal.

TW: No dead naming, but Hero’s Echo Memory does out someone who’s post-transition and that can be emotionally upsetting on its own. The story does take care to use proper pronouns once it’s addressed, but do be aware.

An Eternal Bond was about love, at least from Hero’s perspective. You love someone, you make a commitment to be with them through everything. He was quickly learning that’s not how bonding worked for royalty. Ceremony after ceremony was giving the viera a lingering headache rivaling the pain he felt from a bad echo flashback. Every time he thought he understood, there was something he was doing wrong.

Of course, his future groom’s father was not helping. Varis was an imposing wall of a man during the best of times, but now? He was just nit-picking. “Back straight, you need to make fluid graceful movements. Every eye in the room will be upon you.”

Hero grit his teeth and tried again, trying to stiffen up and move gracefully at the same time. When he heard Varis inhale sharply through the nose again? Hero finally whirled about on his heel. “What? Say it! Come out and say it. I know you don’t think I’m good enough to be here but for fuck’s sake at least have the decency to tell me the truth instead of piling restriction upon restriction on my every move!”

Apparently he caught the older man off guard, because Varis’ eyes widened and his nostrils flared in a distinctly Emet-Selch-as-Solus way before he regained his composure. “I assure you, that is not my intent. After all that has happened in the Empire, I- I suppose I want this to be perfect so my detractors have less cause for complaint. In trying to do so, I must seem like an over-critical parent to you.”

Thankfully Zenos wasn’t in the room, else he’d be willing to cut the tension between them with a knife. Moreso when Hero suddenly swooned, a memory of Varis’ past bubbling to the surface.

A young Garlean woman sat in the same room Hero was in now, staring at herself in the mirror decorated in wedding finery with disdain. She raised a single fist toward her reflection only to startle out of it when the door opened behind her. “Regula? You shouldn’t be here, it’s bad luck.”

The dashing man behind her was Regula? Then who was the bride? “So is smashing mirrors,” he said a name but the memory itself seemed to drown it out. As if the name had been wiped away. “All this pomp and ceremony doesn’t suit me, and that dress doesn’t suit you.”

“It is traditional.” She replied, sounding almost broken inside. “At least while the country still sees me as their princess.”

“You would be a much more charming prince.” Regula reached out to her and Hero was starting to understand. Not her. Him. Him long ago before Solus broke him. “Have you picked a name yet?”

“For myself or for the baby?” Ah, that would do it. That was the complicating wrench in the matter. No wonder he was angry enough to smash a mirror.

“Yourself, I hate calling you by a name that isn’t yours. I love you, I want to support you no matter what.”

“Varis. I found it in one of the baby name books, I- I think I like that one.” Now that Hero thought about it, he was seeing Varis’ back but not his face. Never his face. This was a memory he didn’t deserve to see, a private moment that should have stayed as such. A curse of his blessing once more.

“Varis then.” Regula smiled and reached out to pull his future spouse close, “I Regula, do promise to take Varis yae Galvus to be my loving husband. To have and to hold, to honor and cherish, to support and protect. Until my last breath.”

“Regula- you don’t know that grandsire will put me in the line of succession.”

“If he doesn’t, he’s a damned fool.”

Varis seemed to soften up, stepping forward. “Fine, I- Varis, do take Regula sas Hydra, to be my loving husband.” Varis repeated Regula’s vows, word for word, closing them with a chaste and lingering kiss. “You know how many traditions we’ve broken, right?”

“I don’t need tradition, I need you and your happiness. That’s all I���ll ever need.”

Hero snapped back to himself on the floor, a medicus hovering over him as Varis paced circles about the room. “I’m fine, I’m fine- echo memory, happens all the time.” He noted it was Varis’ personal medicus too, an odd show of care from a man who only showed love through the most subtle ways.

“A memory?” The medicus left as Varis swallowed hard, his eyes locking on Hero’s own with an intensity that made Hero uncomfortable. “What kind of memory?”

“I think it was your wedding day.” Varis swallowed again and looked torn between making excuses and just silencing Hero permanently when Hero held up a hand. “I heard Regula vow to love you until death, Varis. I promise you, that is the only name I will ever know you by. You’re my future father in-law and I’m starting to understand why you’re pressing me so hard about tradition.” He chewed his lip to try to find the right words, “are you worried that if Zenos and I break from tradition we’ll suffer for it?”

“I-” The larger man sat down quietly in one of the chairs lining the room, letting out a sigh that seemed to rob half his height from him. “I wish I could so easily blame everything that’s happened on Regula and I forgoing tradition and making our own rules together. Except I wouldn’t trade those choices for this whole bloody empire. I had him for twenty wonderful years, and though I wish I could turn back time and keep him selfishly at my side, I am not my grandsire. I will not moor myself to a fixed point I cannot change. I can only try to keep moving forward, take care of our son, and create the future we both longed to share.”

Hero nodded and stood quietly, “I’m sorry my stupid echo invaided your privacy like that, but thank you anyway. I think I do understand better now. Shall we try the rehearsal again? I promise I’ll take it more seriously.”

“Honestly? I hated practicing for it too. Worst three weeks of my life. I’d take having to go back and do military grunt work over this bloody pomp and ceremony any day.” The emperor cracked a smile and sat upright properly again, “besides, Zenos probably won’t care a whit if you remember the steps so long as you’re his by the end of it. Keep that in mind and you’ll probably do fine.”

“As you say, your Radiance.”

[goingmorry]

Hellooo I love your writing soooo much >>•<<

Could you please write headcanons of ASL sister introducing Smoker as her fiancé ? Thank you so much !

[One Piece Headcanons] ASL Brothers -> when you introduce Smoker as your fiancé

Characters: Ace, Sabo, Luffy, Smoker

Tags: female reader, overprotective brothers

Author's Note: Thank you for the cute request! I got carried away and added short scenarios for each brother's reaction and a little extra at the end. I hope you like it! 💖

PORTGAS D. ACE

Goes from 😯 to 😡 to 🤬

Ace.exe has stopped working.

He's the 2nd Division Commander of the esteemed Whitebeard Pirates; who in their right mind would think it would be a good idea for him — the son of the late Pirate King — to meet a Marine Vice-Admiral?

Cue war flashbacks of when Garp showered him, Luffy, and Sabo with his "fists of love" for sharing their childhood dreams of becoming pirates.

Goes through all seven stages of grief and complains to Sabo every single time.

Threatens Smoker every chance he gets. The Marine Vice-Admiral repays in kind when you're not around.

Doesn't warm up to the idea of you and Smoker as a couple except on your wedding day.

"Behave yourself," you whisper to your fiancé, soft hands tightly gripping his muscular bicep in warning.

"I'm on my best behavior. It's your brother who needs to behave," Smoker says bluntly, brown eyes observing the freckled pirate's reaction to you and your beau's interlocked arms.

Ace stares, and stares, and stares — at his little sister and the familiar white-haired man he encountered early on during his journey to Alabasta — dumbfounded at the scene before him.

"Fire Fist," the Marine Vice-Admiral calls out, breaking him from his reverie.

"You—" Ace yells, flames erupting from the tips of his fingers to rapidly engulf his entire first.

Before your fiancé can return your fiery brother's sudden display of aggression, you step in between their bodies, eyes alight with fury.

"Stop it!" you scold Ace, extending your pointer finger and thumb to pinch his ear in retaliation.

He frowns at you, but obliges, flames extinguishing from his curled fist. "We need to talk. Now."

Not waiting for your response, Ace saunters off toward his bedroom at the other end of the hallway, posture stiff and robotic. To anyone, outsider or not, it was evident from Ace's appearance and demeanor that the usually friendly pirate was clearly not in a good mood.

"Just wait here. I won't be long," you say to Smoker before dashing off in pursuit of your freckled brother.

When you close the door to his bedroom, Ace begins his tirade, arms crossed against his bare chest as he faces your more petite frame.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

You look at him in bewilderment but don't say a word, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Him! That—that big oaf! There are millions of men in this world! And it has to be him? I don't approve!" Ace doesn't stop himself from frantically gesturing at the closed door — the only piece of barrier, aside from him, of course — separating you from your fiancé.

You frown at Ace's insult, adopting a defensive stance. "Don't call him that! And I don't need your permission, you know. Why are you acting like this?"

"You're my little sister! Of course, I'm concerned!" Ace adjusts himself from the desk he was leaning on. "Do you know what he's done to Luffy?"

You shakily exhale at his accusatory tone. "I know! We've talked about this. He's promised to look the other way when it comes to our family."

"And you believe him?"

"Of course, I do! He hasn't given me any reason to doubt him."

"He's not exactly husband material," Ace interjects, to which you roll your eyes. At this point, it was apparent to you that your big brother was grasping at straws, finding reasons — however shallow they may be — to make you reconsider this marriage.

"He dresses better than you, that's for sure," you say childishly.

Ace's eyebrows furrow, taking great offense to your statement. "What's wrong with the way I dress?"

"Have you seen yourself? You're always strutting around like you own the place. Shirtless and all," you comment, scrunching up your nose in disgust. "Have some common decency at least."

"He's not wearing a shirt either!" Ace says indignantly.

"No, but he has a jacket—"

"That he leaves open all the time, which basically makes it useless," Ace argues, "Why bother if you're not even gonna wear it properly?"

"Argh, forget it. I don't want to talk about this anymore," you say, burying your face in your hands.

Ace takes the hint, feeling guilty as he walks over to your defeated form to rub circles on your back slowly.

A truce, for now.

- - - - - - - - - -

Sometime later, when you return from Ace's bedroom, you find your fiancé calmly sitting on the corner of the couch. Without a word, you plop down beside him and rest your head on the crook of his shoulder.

Smoker takes a deep drag of his cigars, observing your distraught appearance and the lack of a certain cowboy-hat-wearing pirate. "Well, that went well."

SABO

Goes from 😟 to 😩 to 😭

Dies a little bit on the inside.

His precious little sister finally finds love, and who's her betrothed? The infamous White Hunter himself.

He expected this behavior from Ace, but you?

Discreetly pulls you aside to express his disapproval.

Learns to cope and eventually warms up to your relationship with the Marine. How can he not when you look so happy?

De-escalates arguments between Ace and your lover every single time.

"Sabo!" You pull your big brother into an embrace which he reciprocates.

When the blond Revolutionary notices the white-haired man standing behind you, he stiffens, gloved hand reaching behind his back to clasp his metal pipe.

Noticing your older brother's sudden alertness, you nudge his side in reassurance. "This is the fiancé I've been telling you about."

Sabo quickly puts two and two together. All those conversations you've had with him, and not once did you mention that you were engaged to an officer of the Marines. And not just any Marine officer, you were engaged to the Commander of the notorious G-5 base.

In an effort to remain composed, Sabo forces a half-hearted smile — appearing more like a grimace really, but an action you appreciated nonetheless - and extends his right arm to your fiancé for a handshake.

"Nice to meet you."

Ignoring the daggers you were glaring at the side of his face, Smoker hesitantly grips the blond Revolutionary's hand. "Pleasure," he grunts out, letting out a puff of white smoke from his cigars.

For a moment, the two men clasp at each other's hand in a show of fake camaraderie.

Choosing to ignore the growing tension thick in the air, you clap your hands together in mock enthusiasm.

"Great! Let's meet the rest of the family, shall we?"

MONKEY D. LUFFY

Goes from 😁 to 😊 to 🥳

The only one who's okay with your relationship with Smoker.

He's survived having Garp, the Hero of the Marines, as his grandfather; he can certainly handle an additional Marine in the family.

Gets along with your fiancé the best, though Smoker himself denies this.

"Woah, what's Smokey doing here?" Luffy says in awe, looking back and forth between you and the Marine.

You tap your feet in nervousness, gesturing between Smoker and your youngest brother.

"Luffy, this is my fiancé. Smoker, this is my little brother."

"I know who Straw Hat Luffy is," Smoker says impatiently, barely glancing at the pirate standing a few feet in front of him.

"You haven't been formally introduced to each other, have you?" you say indignantly, hips cocked to one side as you stare at your fiancé's tepid behavior.

"In a normal setting, I mean," you clarify, "You chasing him and his crew does NOT count."

Smoker shrugs at your accusation, and you sigh.

Luffy laughs at your scolding, looking up at the Marine. "It's okay. I meant what I said in Alabasta. I don't hate you, y'know?"

You smile at your little brother's statement. You could always count on Luffy to be accepting of your partner, whoever they may be. Also, he wasn't the type to dwell on the past, preferring instead to live in the moment. And that moment was your engagement to the Marine Vice-Admiral, the same man who used to hunt Luffy and his crew throughout the Grand Line for being wanted criminals.

'Tsk' is all Smoker says to the straw hat pirate's proclamation, earning a disapproving pinch to his side from you.

"Be nice," you whisper harshly to your fiancé's ear.

The sound of your little brother's joyous laughter is enough for the normally serious Marine to let out a small smile.

BONUS BELOW LMAO

MONKEY D. GARP

Goes from 😌 to 🥰 to 🤗

T H R I L L E D that his grandson-in-law is a respectable Marine.

The epitome of Proud Father Figure™

Compares the ASL brothers to Smoker every chance he gets during family reunions.

"Y'hear that Luffy? Smoker just caught a band of no-good pirates terrorizing the local townsfolk." Luffy picks his nose in acknowledgment.

Garp points an accusatory finger at Ace. "You damn brat, why couldn't you listen to me and become a Marine like I told you to?"

Garp gives a disapproving glare to Sabo. "And you! Why'd you have to join the shady Revolutionaries and become a wanted criminal like my son?"

Garp proceeds to give the ASL brothers multiple rounds of his fists of love. Meanwhile, he smooches your forehead in happiness for finding a suitable husband.

You and Smoker live happily ever after. The end.

[erensrag]

the one -

armin x yn (wc: 12720)

warnings: nsfw/smut, yandere armin, obsession, mentions of stalking, manipulation, toxic relationship, armin being a creep in love basically. summary makes it seem like he kidnaps reader lmao he doesn’t

summary: having seen enough of you managing without him, armin decides to finally take matters into his own hands and make you his.

armin doesn't understand.

he thought he planned everything out perfectly. he gave you your space, hasn’t given anyone the slightest suggestion of his feelings for you—at least the people you both know. he wanted you to come to him willingly, no persuasion or sweet talks.

he did everything perfectly. he's the perfect student, always has been. has gotten straight a's since the moment he entered his first grade, received a full scholarship to some college he could care less about instead of his dream one because that's the one you chose, even helped you with your college admission letters. he's well off, could've—could take care of you your entire life. he's loved by everyone on campus and even in high school, he was the apple of everyone's eye.

you knew how perfect he was back then and how he's thriving right now so how the hell...of all people why him? he clenches the beer can in his hand, watching you stumble up the stairs with none other than his best friend.

this isn't like the other boys you've dated. he can't just threaten or throw cash at him until he realizes you'll always belong to armin and leave you alone. eren doesn't listen to anyone and even if he did try any threats, it'd just ruin the nice guy reputation he’d had spent years building up.

he throws the can onto the sofa, immediately trailing after you two before he can stop himself. he thought spending the summer in everyone’s home town would've just brought them closer—specifically brought you and him closer, that was the plan after all. not you and eren. you two have barely spoken three words to each other your entire lives.

it doesn't make sense.

he thought he knew everything about you. he had organized every single detail regarding you in sections and tucked the pictures in that little box that's been tucked under his dorm bed for years. maybe he gave too much space? college was undoubtedly stressful, he must've become too busy with his studies to look over you. to make sure you made the right decisions and weren't tainted by the hands of everyone around you.

he had screwed up.

but he intends to make it right. to put you back on the right track, the one you're supposed to be on. the one that leads you straight to him.

he found the two of you in some random bedroom, disgust immediately taking over him at the sight. is this who you were now? a few months of not talking to one another and you were already ruining your life by letting yourself get fucked by eren of all people in a bedroom you didn't even know the owner of?

his nails dig into his palms as he watches through the creek in the door, you guys didn't even bother to close it all the way. as if you wanted an audience. eren was already slamming into you, like you were nothing more than a toy dying to be used and defiled. like a whore. is that who you are now y/n? a whore? the more he stares, the more it seems like it. you’re on your stomach, hands clenching the sheets and head thrown back in pleasure.

the pace of his thrusts has you letting out high pitched moans, a bit of saliva sliding down your chin. "e—eren." you cry out and armin would've walked in there and punched the daylights out of his own best friend because no one deserves to hear you calling their name out like that except for him. it's unfair. so unfair he could fucking die out of fury right now. but he didn't. he stood there, frozen because hitting his best friend—anyone is out of character for him.

it would've raised eyebrows and questions he doesn't want to answer. but still...the way eren snaps his cock in you sloppily, the slap of skin against skin filling the room makes him bite down on his tongue to the point of blood. the anger is consuming him and he's not sure he can watch this torture any longer.

"y—you're—n—ngh so big, eren." you moan like a bitch in heat, tongue almost lolling out as eren grabs your hair, pulling your head back even more so he can plant a disgusting kiss on your lips.

at least you're still dressed, outfit clinging to your sweaty body. at least he doesn't get to see anything too valuable. at least armin still has that for himself. it's when eren grips your clothed breast that he decides enough is enough, he's ready to open the door and storm in the room but a hand is quickly grabbing his forearm.

he freezes, has someone been watching him? did they see anything? fuck, are they going to think he's some huge pervert? judging by his actions tonight, maybe he is. he slowly turns around, closing the door in front of him before the person can ask any questions.

it's historia. her pupils are dilated as she leans onto armin's arm. the booming sound of the music from downstairs drowns out whatever she's slurring out right now but armin pretty's sure he has a gist of it. "let's get you home." he sighs, placing his hand on her shoulder.

she shakes her head, "we—gotta...find y/n." she says a bit louder, clenching her eyes shut before opening them again. "my head hurts." she whines.

"that's what happens when you decide to act like a damn delinquent." he mutters bitterly more to himself, it's not like she'll remember any of this tomorrow. "now let's go home before mom kills us."

"but—y/n. we came with her, we can't just...just..." she clenches the front of his shirt before letting out a choked gag.

armin huffs, almost throwing her off before she ruins his clothes but even as annoying as she is, leaving his sister in a place like this isn't such a good idea. especially for his reputation. he would take y/n with him as well but it seems she's too preoccupied. too tainted to think straight.

but like he said, he'll make sure to fix that. he has two months to get everything back to the way they were. and maybe even a little better.

he's waited years for your friendship with him to blossom into something more but it seems nothing will happen without him egging a few things on first.

he spends the entire night tossing and turning, nightmares of the party before repeating in his head over and over again.

if it was anything else, he thinks he would've been able to let it go after taking a few precautions. but this isn't anything else. this is big and it only spirals the blotchy jealously he's tried hard to keep under wraps over the years, threatening to invade his thoughts with vile images.

he's awake long enough to hear the front door opening at three in the morning. immediately getting up and walking towards his slightly open door, knowing it's you. historia and his mother are sound asleep and besides his father who's rarely home due to work, you're the only one left with a key.

he made sure to pressure historia into getting you one as soon as possible the second he found out you were spending the summer with them. groaning fills the silence of the house followed by you stumbling up the stairs. he expects to hear you go into the guest room you're staying in or historia's bedroom but the bathroom door opens instead.

a few minutes passes before he hears you groaning again, this time louder and his feet inch towards the hallway, wanting nothing more than to go to you. but then that angry feeling rises again and an acidic taste resides on his tongue. he doesn't want to be angry at you, he's never been angry at you. he should be furious with eren only. the way he took advantage of your kindness and obliviousness isn't right. if you were sober, you never would've gone for him.

he sighs heavily, walking towards the bathroom door. you're slouched over the toilet, gagging into it and he races over. the concern is etched on his face as his hand rests on your back, startling you. you turn your head, movements sluggish. "armin?"

he didn't even have the decency to walk you inside? make sure you got into bed properly? fucking asshole.

"you okay?" he asks. it's the most you two have spoken to each other all summer.

"y-yeah." you wipe your lips. "sleepy." you murmur.

he gets up, putting his arm around your waist as he helps you stand. "rinse your mouth." he mutters and you obey, going to the sink to put some water in your mouth and spitting it out. "let's get you to bed."

you two stumble out of the bathroom, he makes sure to keep his hands around your waist. his chest constricting with want as he gets to feel you, it's been ages since you two have touched each other. he eyes your bedroom door, that's where he originally wanted to take you but he can't help but think back to that party. at how eren got to experience everything he wasn't able to. then he sees the bruises on your neck, he grits his teeth so hard he's sure they're going to chip any second.

no. he deserves this little thing. it's not like he's going to do anything inappropriate, he's not like that jackass who decided he deserved to touch you like that. he just wants to be near you. it's been awhile, too long. and it's not like you two haven't slept in the same bed before.

that's what he tells himself as he guides the both of you towards his own bedroom, slowly placing you on the bedsheets to which you immediately snuggle into. he eyes flicker towards the closet door, contemplating whether to take out a random t-shirt and place you in it but you'd just be waking up with questions he wouldn't be able to answer. the armin everyone knows can't even look at a girl without blushing, let alone undress her.

so he opts for just laying down besides you on the sheets, he can explain this if you wake up confused. that you just drunkly stumbled in his room and laid down next to him. he turns his head, captivated by every rise and fall of your chest. your eyelashes fluttering as you snuggle deeper into the pillow, letting out incoherent whimpers.

his fingers slowly trace your cheek, chest burning badly with want. all he wants to do is touch, touch, touch. you just look so beautiful, so serene. and he can't help brush a thumb over your bottom lip. the same lips that were moaning out eren's just a few hours ago. that dark feeling is back and he can't help but press his finger down on your lip harshly, you let out a tiny whine but keep your eyes closed, too sleepy to really comprehend what's going on.

what's so special about him? he doesn't get it. eren's a meathead. he isn't fit to take care of you, to cater to your every need and make sure you never have to want for anything. to be ready to do whatever is necessary to keep you happy, even if it means hurting those you don't realize are harming you.

he leans forward, lips ghosting over yours but never touching. no, he wants you to be awake and alert for when your lips finally meet. so you can see no one else in this world but him deserves you. but fuck, he wants to kiss you. your lips look so soft, so addicting, like they were made for him. and they were. every inch of your body was created for him just like his was for you.

he needs to make this right, make you see what was standing in front of you all long. he could punch himself for not realizing he needed to act on this sooner.

but he will now. he'll make sure to fix everything.

armin wakes up before you, not wanting to be in the room when you finally snapped out of your slumber. fortunately, you don't stay asleep too long, waking up only thirty minutes after.

he's already made breakfast by then, blueberry pancakes just the way you like them. you step into the kitchen and he almost drops the glass of orange juice he's holding. you're dressed in his oversized hoodie with some shorts, it practically engulfs your frame as you awkwardly sit on a stool.

you're wearing his clothes.

his clothes are touching your skin right now. making contact with your chest, stomach and breasts. he gulps, placing the glass down. "m-morning."

"morning..." you trail off, slowly drumming your fingers on the counter. "pancakes?"

he quickly pushes a plate towards you, he shamelessly designed it like it held a five course meal instead of simple pancakes but you seem to appreciate it as you gasp. "this looks amazing."

"did you sleep well?" he deliberately asks that question just to see you squirm.

you tense up, picking up the fork as you jab the pancakes. "yeah...uh sorry i was in your room and...bed. must've stumbled in there last night."

"it's fine." he smiles. "i slept on the couch, no worries." the lie flows out as if he didn't spend the last few hours cuddling you like you were going to run away any second.

"oh."

"what?"

"nothing." you shake your head, chewing.

"no really, what?" he presses, leaning on the counter towards you.

"well...i mean i wouldn't have a trouble if you slept in the same bed, it's not like we haven't done it before."

"that was a long time ago." he says but the fact you remembered fills him up with glee. so your mind hasn't been completely infiltrated with his so called best friend, you still think of armin.

"yeah but we were really close before...you know. i'm sure—"

"before what?" he asks, forcing the confusion to appear on his face even though he knows exactly what you're talking about.

you fidget, "before you started to distance yourself." you sigh, perhaps growing a bit agitated under his intense gaze.

"hmm." he hums. "well, studies and all that, you know how it is. but i'm sure you found plenty of people to fill in that hole i left behind."

you raise an eyebrow, "well...i wouldn't—"

"did you miss me, though y/n?" he places his hand under his chin, staring at you. "you walked into my room like it was second nature, snuggled right into my bed like it was home. it was pretty cute."

you nibble on your bottom lip, "i'm sorry about that. gosh, that's so embarrassing."

"answer the question." he urges, tone being a little bit more stern then he intended.

your eyes widen for a moment, "yeah—uh i missed you. didn't you miss me?" you ask shyly.

a far contrast from the moans that were leaving your lips last night. "of course i missed you." he nods. "you, me and historia were such a tight nip group back then. but then college came around and things changed. we changed, didn't we?"

"yeah, i guess."

"you never used to go to parties before and now look at you, stumbling in at three am like some drunkard. makes me wonder what else you've been up to." he continues nonchalantly, plucking a berry into his mouth.

you lick your lips, hands clenching around the fork. a few seconds pass by before you let out a laugh meant to lighten the mood, "i almost forgot how intense you can be, geez lighten up armin. your stare is practically boring into me." you play with the sleeve of his hoodie, trying to hide your discomfort.

discomfort. he doesn't want you to feel that around him. he'll have to change that, make you see his behavior is only intended to help you. protect you from the evils in the world because you're simply too native to notice them. "and i didn't even wanna go to that party in the first place. i suggested star gazing but historia called it dumb."

"of course she did, her idea of a good time is getting so drunk she could faint." he rolls his eyes. "anyways. speaking of change, did you talk to eren last night?"

you almost choke on the pancake, quickly putting the fork down so you can grab the glass of water and gulp it down. "n-no! why would i speak to eren? i barely know the guy."

you've always been a bad liar—always overexaggerating everything.

"just wondering. i haven't been able to get a hold of him. mikasa wants to speak to him."

"mikasa? why?" that certainly piques your curiosity.

"well, they are best friends and he left campus without telling her where he was going apparently. she's at her hometown with her parents and is worried sick."

"can’t you be the messenger or something?”

he clicks his tongue, walking over and sitting next to you. "i'm not sure this message can be passed down through me." he smiles, making sure your thighs are touching.

"why not?" you ask timidly, as if afraid for his answer.

"well, i'm sure you know about how...special their relationship is. right before we left for break, eren told me he was planning on confessing his feelings for her when we got back and then she just texted me saying—"

"what?" your lips form into a frown, doe eyes filled with confusion. it's so cute. so naive and cute. "eren likes her?"

"of course he likes her silly, everyone knows those two are head over heels for each other. practically in a relationship already. it'll be so cute when we get back to campus and see them finally get together, don't you think so? their bond is truly something remarkable."

you stay silent, eyes staring down at your pancakes. do you actually like him? armin refrains from a scoff, how could you be so dumb to fall for someone like eren? "what's wrong? you look like you've seen a ghost."

"f-fine."

he nods, hand going to touch the syrup in the corner of your lips. you look surprised for a second as his tongue darts out to lick his finger. "we'll be spending two whole months in this house together." he changes the subject, having accomplished what he wanted to do. he doubts the eren situation is over yet but he has all the time to permanently destroy it. and he will.

"don't we think we should rekindle the friendship? it's gonna be awkward if we continue ignoring each other."

"you're the one who ignored me." you murmur.

"i wanna fix that, i'm sorry y/n. i'm sure we can go back to where we left off, hmm?"  he lean down so your faces are closer together, your eyes widening at that the movement. "would you like that?"

it looks like you're nodding before you can even register what he's saying. you've always been like that. so compliant. it used to be adorable but now all he can think about is how eren used that submissiveness and naivety to sink his claws into you. no one can be trusted around you. only armin.

"y—yeah." you smile, sullen mood from the news he just delivered temporarily gone. "i've missed you a lot."

"i've missed you too."

"what's this?" you ask as you walk into the living room a few hours later, granola bar in hand. still wearing his hoodie.

"a fort?"

"i can see it's a fort, but why?" you walk over to the sofa, plopping down on it.

"we used to make these all the time in high school, and since we're going to be friends again. don't you think—"

"so a fort?" you hum. "you usually hated when we made these, always calling it childish."

"well..." he steps towards the coffee table, picking up the miniature planetarium he stashed in his closet a few years ago. "you said you wanted to go stargazing so—"

"so you brought the stars to me?" your tone isn't mocking but you do chuckle a bit. "i don't know if that's sweet or just—"

"i think it's sweet." he grins, walking towards you. "so what do you think?" he gestures towards the fort. he didn't spent the last fifteen minutes moving furniture and gathering almost all pillows, sheets and cushions in the house for this for you to reject his offer. he needs to see you with that look in your eyes, looking at the stars with admiration. he misses it. the last sight in his mind is of you at that party, eyes gleamed over with lust and that hammered look. it plays over and over again and he's sick of it.

"sure." you beam, not waiting for him to make the first move as you crawl into the fort. the sanctuary he made for just the two of you.

he goes in after you, thighs touching yours as you sit next to each other. he made the insides small on purpose, just so he could feel you. he turns the projector on and you both watch as the speckles of light start to form on the sheets.

"whoa." you mutter to yourself, entrapped by the glowing of the luminescent blues and purples. "you really did all this for me?" you ask, nibbling on your bottom lip.

"wouldn't be the first time i went all out for you." he moves closer to you, breathing fanning on your face. "i'd do anything for you y/n, i thought you knew that already."

you're his. he should do whatever it takes to care of what's his.

you stare at him, a definite picture of of purity with those big mesmerizing eyes. your mouth gapes open trying to come up with a response but nothing comes out. armin watches a bead of sweat trail down your forehead, it's almost scorching in here. he knows it would've happen in this summer heat so he slowly picks up the mini electric. "hot?"

"w-what about you?" you ask, visibly swallowing a lump in your throat.

he hesitates. c'mon armin. just be a man. so he wraps his hand around your waist and you recoil in surprise as he brings you into his lap so the fan is on both of your bodies. you place your hand on his thighs, squirming to get into a comfortable position. "a-armin..." you laugh, it's awkward. you're trying to ease the tension but he doesn't want that, he just wants to be near you,  consequences be damned.

he's usually smarter than this. smarter than acting before he thinks but that night won’t stop haunting him so he smiles as he leans his chin on your shoulder. "what? am i making you uncomfortable?"

"w—well no but...it's just very sudden. you were acting as if i didn't exist just a few days ago and you're now—"

"i just wanted to touch you y/n. it's been years without your touch." he whispers, resisting the urge to nibble on your earlobe. "didn't you miss me? miss my touches?" he asks innocently, wrapping both his hands around your waist to pull you closer. your back is flushed against his chest, ass directly on his crotch and it takes a lot of will power not to get a hard on.

"i did." you nod eagerly. "of course i did."

"so let me treat you for all those times i missed."

"okay." you say, seemingly without thinking.

"wanna get some barbecue tomorrow ?"

"i have to meet my parents. y'know, getting yelled at for my major. the usual."

he frowns. "they're still mad about that? you should talk to them."

"you know they never listen to me." you squirm again on his lap but abruptly stops as you realize where exactly you're sitting. "it's fine, i barely talk to them anyways. i'm sure they'll finally get over it once i graduate."

he should comfort you, say something along the lines of they'll come around or don't worry but instead what comes out is none of those. "you don't need them." he rustles against you. "i'll always support you y/n. like i always have"

even if you weren't aware, he was mostly always in the shadows and making sure you got everything you wanted. "well, they are my parents."

"they've never cared enough to listen to you, to see you." his tone changes, voice low now as more sweat beads down his forehead. "none of them have, have they?"

"i—i...i'm sure—"

"historia doesn't see you? does she? she says she's your best friend but she treats you like a lackey y/n. isn't that infuriating?"

you scoff, "that's not true." you go to get off his lap but he tightens his hold on you. he just needs to say this.

"is that why she rejected your offer of stargazing? why she always made fun of your outfit choices back in high school? she was always jealous of you, don't you see that? you're better than that, better than all of them." every single one.

he wishes he could see your face but he settles for this, just for this simple touch. "i don't know what you want me to say to that, armin." you breath out.

"i want you to see your worth, y/n. you deserve better than all of this. don't you think so? you deserve the world." he can't help himself as he leans into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

you're not creeped out, or at least you're not attempting to get up anymore. "and what, you can give me that? is that what you're saying?"

he wasn't meant to have this type of conversation right now, it was just supposed to be a nice evening of laying down in this fort. but he saw an opportunity and why not take it?

"you know i can." he answers. "you know i'd do anything for you."

you turn your head slightly, looking at him. "really?" you question. "anything?" you sound intrigued and he swears you're leaning in, it's not his imagination right? you really are.

but before your lips can even brush against each other, historia's screeching voice booms in the living room. "y/n! it's time to get ready."

you quickly get off, almost throwing yourself to the ground as you scoff awkwardly. as if being knocked out of a trance. you don't even spare armin a glance as you crawl out.

get ready for what?

"another party?" armin leans on the doorway frame, watching his sister apply her makeup. "you two went to one just last night—and halloween themed? it's the middle of summer."

"that's what makes it fun!" she smiles, putting the blush down and standing up. she decided to go as a cat. or at least, he thinks it's a cat. drawn on whiskers with an ear headset, a damn tail, short dress with long fishnets.

she looks like a whore. she's been acting like a whore ever since summer started and he realizes maybe that's why you’re acting so different. you live near each other in the dorms and historia must be rubbing off of you.

he tries and keeps his outrage down as historia gets up, walking towards the door. "we'll be back at twelve...hopefully."

"no, you'll be back at twelve." he grits his teeth. "you'll get drunk like an idiot dear sister, and leave y/n all alone at some strangers house. again."

she blushes, offended at the assumption. "you're the one who brought me home last night, why are you blaming it on—"

"would mother appreciate this? you dressed up like a skank and going to a party two nights in a row?"

he shouldn't be saying this. it's not in his character and it's obvious historia is completely staggered at his behavior. "she's barely home and i doubt she cares what i do at night. unlike you, i haven't made it my life to be the perfect—"

"but i care." he's walking towards her before he can stop himself. "i care about the way you're treating y/n. dragging her to parties, getting her drunk so assholes can take advantage then leaving her high and dry. you're a bad influence, dear sister and it's truly annoying seeing you trying to turn her into some gross replica of you. she's not like that, she's not tainted like you. she's pure and i won't let—"

"you're hurting me jackass!" she whimpers and it's only then armin realizes he's seized her wrist, digging his nails into the skin.

he quickly lets go, clearing his throat. "sorry, just stressed from school."

the annoyance is clear in her eyes along with the rage but armin notices something else...a hint of fear? he scared her? fucking great. watch as she goes and rants to mother about her asshole of an older brother resulting in talks he definitely doesn't want to have.

"if you're so worried about y/n, come to the party like you did last night. keep an eye on your precious doll." she scoffs, shoving him away so she can step out the door, rubbing at her wrist.

that's not a total bad idea. it's a perfect way to get closer to you without seeming like a total creep plus he can keep eren and his greedy claws away. he quickly walks towards your door, knocking once before you're opening. his mouth nearly gapes open at the sight of you, how is it always possible for him to be blown away by your beauty every time he sees you? you're dressed in a short white dress, wearing a halo headset with wings.

an angel? fitting. very very fitting.

"you like it?" you grab the ends of the dress, showing it off. he notices you try very hard to not look at him in the eyes. "couldn't decide between a bride or angel. historia wanted me to go as a sexy nurse but i didn't really have—"

"gorgeous. you look gorgeous." it flows out of his tongue so smoothly it has the both of you tensing up.

"really?" you quirk an eyebrow, clearing your throat and finally looking at him. it feels so damn awkward—at least to you but you try to act normal nonetheless. "i expected a swarm of insults, you hate things like that."

"do i think having a halloween themed party in the middle of summer is completely and utterly idiotic? yes. but it doesn't deter from your blinding beauty."

a shy smile gathers on your face, "uh...thanks."

"ready to go? i'm driving.”

your eyes widen, "you? going to a party twice in a row? going to a party at all? are you okay?" your hand is quickly going to touch his forehead before he can comprehend what's going on. his cheeks immediately blaze red, taking a quick step back.

you take your hand away, letting out an uneasy laugh. "it's just a tough armin, not like i was going to stab you or something."

"i know—"

"you say you want our friendship back but you act like this...it's weird." you huff. "you've been acting weird ever since we left for college, no—you've been acting like an ass and i've let it go but this summer means a lot to me. i'm finally having fun for once in my life and i don't need you to come in and confusing me and—and what the hell was that fort—"

"i was just surprised!" he cuts off, tone more urgent than he wants it to be. "i do want us to be friends again!" he deliberately ignores the fort question.

he just wasn't prepared for the feeling of your skin against his in that moment. it’s usually him initiating the touches, not the other way around. he swallows the lump in his throat, quickly taking your hand in his. "i didn't mean to insult you. of course i want your touch, who wouldn't want it? you're—" he stops talking. stop it. stop it. he's babbling. "let's just go."

you nod, smiling again. at least you're not creeped out by his behavior.

the party is boring. it's only been an hour and he's bored out of his damn mind. other than drunk girls coming up to him and asking him what's he's supposed to be even though it's pretty freaking obvious he's not wearing a costume—the random loud shouting as someone starts taking shots is enough to drive him out of his mind.

but at least you're here.

he's made sure to keep an eye on you the second you guys got here. you've mostly been outside on the patio, drinking punch as you dance with some friends. he occasionally touches his lips, thinking of how close they were to yours in that fort. the way you looked at him was filled with...well you definitely didn't look at eren like that last night. speaking of the devil— "eren." he smiles tightly as his friend sits next to him on the sofa. "vampire?" he asks, eyeing his costume.

"is that alcohol?" he looks at the cup in armin's hand. "i need to get drunk immediately."

"it's water."

"water. of course it's water." he chuckles. "what else do i expect from mr goody two shoes?"

armin rolls his eyes, "why are you so desperate to find a way to act like even more of an idiot?" he mutters as if there aren't piles of cups around them, not to mention the cases of beer he's sure are in the fridge.

"nothing." he groans, leaning against the couch. "it's a party. getting drunk is what you're supposed to do."

"hmmm." he hums. "just thought it had to do with something else."

"like what?"

"well...i saw you and y/n the other night, getting it on."

"please never say getting it on ever again." he grins, sitting back up.

he's grinning...as if he didn't just commit a great sin against armin. didn't put his hands on armin's girl, didn't...he grits his teeth. how can he act so careless? as if he had any right to do what he did last night?

"do you like her?"

eren arches an eyebrow, looking at him. "what's it to you?"

"you don't do relationships. you hump and dump and y/n and i are very close. i don't want her becoming one of your victims."

"that's none of your business." he scoffs.

"just answer the question." his eyes bore into the others, clenching the cup in his hand to the point the liquid is overflowing onto his lap but he could care less. "cause if so, that's really pathetic. she always expresses how much of a idiot you are, it's funny really. how she had to be drunk to finally sleep with you."

"she wasn't drunk." he says through gritted teeth. "we were both a little tipsy but not drunk enough to—"

"why are you even doing this with her? she doesn't like you."

"again. it's none of your business." eren deadpans. "what's wrong with you tonight? we're both—"

"you're right." armin sighs, letting out an exaggerated laugh like he's just realized how crazy he sounds. even though he knows he’s acting perfectly sane right now, who wouldn’t be mad if they discovered what armin did? "i'm being weird, i'm just really protective of y/n. she's like family to me, you know that."

eren bites his lip, still a bit tense but nods nonetheless. "i'm not doing anything...like that with her. i genuinely wanna see where things go."

oh.

he's not sure which answer would've been better but he shakes his head okay, licking his now dry lips. "wanna get drunk on the roof? just like we used to?"

"you mean i got drunk and you sat there, silently judging me." eren corrects, anxious atmosphere from before now gone. armin likes that about him. quick to forget and never holds grudges. "but sure, i'll get the beer."

"i have to go pee, see you on the roof." he salutes before eren walks into the kitchen. his eyes instantly travel towards you, feet dragging themselves towards the patio before he can stop.

he just wants to ask if you're okay before he departs, see if you don't need any assistance. you're surrounded by people...but it's people he doesn't trust. he doesn't trust anyone with you. for good reasons. before he can walk further to tap your shoulder, he hears the conversation you're having with abby—he thinks that's her name.

she's been over for sleepovers many times. never really liked armin, that's for sure. he's heard her call him fake at least two times, saying someone can't actually be that nice or perfect. fucking abby. why is she talking to you? he should've gotten rid of her long ago, sabotaged the friendship as soon as he realized her bad influence.

"just ask him out!" he hears her squeal. "literally, what are you waiting for? he's so hot."

something tells him she's not fangirling like this  over armin.

"it's just...it's gonna be awkward!" you sigh, leaning against the wall. see? you can make good choices all by yourself, it's the people around your corrupting you. warping your thoughts until they're no longer your own. "he's armin's best friend and—"

"ugh! who cares about that boring walking encyclopedia!" abby groans heavily. "eren is probably the most popular guy on campus, have you seen those abs? ask him out or i will!" she laughs and armin knows she's not joking.

"he's not...boring." you mutter. "he's actually a pretty cool guy and—"

"you're probably the only one who thinks that." she rolls her eyes.

she interrupted you again. why is she always interrupting you? and why do you never speak up on it?

"ask eren out! c'mon, who cares about what armin thinks? his head is too busy being buried in books to notice anyone else regardless." she shakes your hand frantically.

you squirm, slowly nodding. "maybe. i might. eren doesn't seem to be totally av—"

"gotta go pee." she lets go of your hand. "drank way too much beer."

"want me to go with you?"

you're so nice. why are you so nice?"

"no, it's fine. it'll only take two seconds." she smiles, walking back inside. armin already made himself scarce the second she turned around, watching her walk up the stairs.

he should just go to the roof, talk to eren...but it seems eren isn't the only one standing in the way of his relationship with you. everyone wants to jeopardize it and he's had enough. so he's walking upstairs, not second guessing himself as he makes his way to the bathroom. he's been to this mansion many times before, his mother always having dinner with the owner of it to get into their good graces.

it doesn't take long before he finds it, the hallway is empty and he can hear abby inside. giggling nonsense to herself as she pees. she's drunk. probably wouldn't even remember his face.

he's not sure what he exactly plans to do but the second the door opens, he's immediately shoving her back inside. hands going to rest against her throat and mouth. fuck, he should've thought this through but all he can see right now is blind fury. people keep trying to tear you two apart and it's fucking with his brain. makes him so furious he just wants to punch everything in sight.

abby is screeching, trying to get out of his grip but she's a petite girl. barely weighing a hundred pounds. her back is to his chest and he prays she won't recognize him by the sound of his voice but even if she did...who cares? no one would believe her anyways. so he chuckles, not bothering to mask his voice.

"why do you keep getting in my way abby?" he sighs, applying a bit more pressure to her throat to which she whimpers at. "i don't want to hurt you so let this be a warning, hmm? stay away from y/n. never talk to her again, don't even think about her. that friendship is dead as of tonight? don't you think so?"

she only whimpers louder, trying to free herself so he applies even more pressure. she's now choking, little gasps trying to come out. "you're all trying to ruin her, it's so fucking annoying. just away, okay? it's simple enough, right? i'm going to let go now, don't turn around, don't scream unless you want me to break your windpipe? do you want that, abby?"

he's not sure he even knows how to break a damn windpipe, at least not yet but she doesn't know that. she nods frantically, tears flowing down her cheeks and onto armin's fingers. "great, now run away. all the way home." he lets her go and she doesn't need to be told twice as she bolts out of the room.

well, that was easy. he refrains from laughing as he leans on the doorway. she was all bark and no fight. always insulting armin but suddenly turning into a pathetic, sniveling bitch once he actually does something in retaliation.

he's feeling confident tonight, smiling ear to ear as he walks towards an open bedroom. the balcony door is wide open and he steps out onto it. climbing onto the roof doesn't take much effort, he's been doing it with eren for years.

speaking of eren.

another problem he needs to fix.

getting eren drunk isn't a hard thing to do. it only took a few minutes on the roof before he was slurring his speech. fortunately armin got them both back down on the balcony before the other could gravely injure himself.

injuring his best friend badly isn't on his to do list. at least physically. eren grips his forearm as armin lays him down on a random chair, the summer air causing eren's hair to flow around.

he understands why y/n is so smitten, he guesses. he's a pretty good looking guy. but so is armin. isn't he? he got rid of that haircut he would always get teased for, went to the gym a few nights and developed actual abs, don’t girls love abs...so why him? is it because he's popular? maybe cause he didn't wait eons to make a move like armin is currently doing.

whatever.

soon enough, he's going to be out of the equation.

eren's too inebriated to even realize where he is. this won't be hard, not one bit. "eren." armin sings. "i dare you to punch that railing." he leans against said railing, watching eren's sluggish movements as he stands up.

he's a jock, they love stupid dares. especially when they're drunk. eren scoffs in disbelief, offended armin even had to dare him. like he would've done it regardless. "easy."

"you sure you won't hurt yourself?" at least too badly.

he rolls his eyes and before armin can blink, his knuckles are slamming into the railing. he actually did it. why are jocks so easy? "that was so weak." armin challenges. "lame."

eren punches it again without saying anything, then again and again and armin has to hold him back and push him back on the chair before he's breaking his own bones. he examines his knuckles, bruised and bloodied. just like he wanted them. "h..how was that? cool right?" he slurs, smiling happily to himself.

admin nods, "very cool. now go to sleep." he hums lightly, patting the others head again until he's snuggling into the chair.

armin waits a few minutes until he's sure eren's finally sleeping. he walks towards the wall, letting out a few puffs to brace himself. he's doing all this for you. it'll be fine. he can do it.

he doesn't allow himself to think twice before he's slamming his forehead into the wall. fuck. fuck that hurts. but he can do it. it's for y/n. it's for their relationship. he can do it. so he does it again, and again until blood is dripping down his face.

fucking hell, it hurts.

he winces as he takes out his phone, wiping the blood on the wall with the sleeve of his sweater. he dials your number and you answer on the first ring. so perfect. so damn perfect.

"hey! where'd you disappear to?" your chirpy voice says on the other line.

"y/n." he makes sure to add emphasis on his voice, "c-can you come upstairs to the balcony? second bedroom on your right."

"uh...sure. are you okay?"

he decides to hang up at that, you're coming so there's no reason to continue talking. dots start to form in his eyes, he should've expected that. slamming your head repeatedly onto a wall will do that to someone.

you arrive not twenty seconds later, hurrying up into the room and gasping once you see the sight of him. "oh my gosh!" you rush over, placing a hand on his shoulder as your examine his face. "what ha—" it's then that you notice a sleeping eren in the seat next to you two.

and normally you wouldn't even jump to such a conclusion but with the way eren's knuckle is bruised...armin left little to be assumed. "don't tell me..." you trail off, eyes widening with disbelief as you look between the two of them.

"it's fine." armin breaths out, squinting his eyes shut at the pain. "he—he must've gotten too drunk and—it's fine."

"it's not fine!" you exclaim. "he...oh gosh why would he do that?"

he stands up from the seat he's been leaning against. "he was drunk, he wasn't thinking straight. it's my fault for mentioning mikasa knowing how—"

"mikasa?" your voice is so meek it has him finally looking at you. you look hurt, like a wounded little deer and although it pains him—he's only doing this to help you. you'll see it soon enough.

"yeah, all i did was mention how if he doesn't hurry and man up, she'll be swept away by some other guy on campus. you know how mikasa is, everyone loves her and i guess he got too mad. my fault for messing with true love." he chuckles, trying to lighten to the atmosphere. "sorry, that last part was cheesy but truly i'm—are you okay?"

your bottom lip is sucked in between your teeth anxiously, slight tears forming in your eyes. "f-fine."

"are my injuries really making you cry? wow, didn't know you cared so much."

he tries not to think about the fact you're actually crying over eren. fucking eren.

you let out a forced laugh, "y-yeah." you sniff. "let's get you home. him too."

"is he usually so...violent?" you ask once you two are in the car, driving eren home. "and don't you need stitches for that or something?"

"not usually so violent. i only see him get so worked up when it's something he's truly passionate about."

"...right."

"and for the stitches part? i don't think so." at least he hopes not.

you nod.

"he's my best friend, i'm not sure he didn't mean to do it."

"he still hurt you though, that's messed up." you look at him, frown visible on your face. "your face is too adorable to get a fist punched into it."

"adorable?" he gasps, making a turn. "i'm hot. i'd like to think i stopped being adorable right when i entered college."

you laugh, "yeah. i guess."

"you guess what?" he asks, teasing smile on his face.

you smile, "you're...hot. there? did i boost your ego enough?"

"you have no idea, angel."

you're taken back by the pet-name but then realize it probably has to do with your outfit as you lean back onto the chair, staring at the passing houses.

eren's cozy in his bed a couple minutes later, snuggling into the pillows. "wonder what he's gonna feel when he wakes up knowing he beat the crap out of his best friend." you murmur, watching him on the bed.

"he did not beat the crap out of me!" armin scoffs, defensively. you giggle, "those bruises look pretty serious to me."

"doesn't mean he beat the crap out of me! it's just harmless bruises."

"sure, whatever helps you sleep at night."

he walks closer to you, "he really didn't. unless you haven't noticed, i've grown from that scrawny boy a years back. i can handle a fight."

"yeah, i've noticed but eren goes to the gym like a million times a day—"

"but did eren take a year of marital arts?" he counters.

"the dude is built like a bodybuilder, i doubt he needs marital arts."

"that's where you're wrong, dear y/n. brains win over brawn anytime."

"except for tonight." you say, mischievous glint in your eyes.

he blows air out through his lips in disbelief and it's only when he sees you squint at the movement that he realizes how close they are together. so close that all he needs to do is lean in a few inches and your lips are touching. should he? you're watching him intensely, like you also want to know what his next move is.

do you want him to? he doesn't know. he planned much more experiences to get you to realize he's the one for you. he doesn't want your first kiss with him to be in eren's bedroom, of all places. but maybe a petty part of him does want that. a way of getting back at eren for what he did. for almost taking you away from armin.

your eyes flicker up, staring at him before flicking back down to his lips. it seems you want to make the first move as your lips brush against his and armin has to will himself to not fall down because his knees feel like they're going to give out any second. holy...is this really happening? he's been waiting for this his entire life. for you to finally...fuck, your fingers idly play with the buttons of his shirt before you're deepening the kiss.

he doesn't know why but he pulls away, "why should i kiss you y/n?" he asks, voice teasing yet stern at the same time.

your body heats up from embarrassment, "i—don't you like me? the fort—"

"do i like you?" he could almost scoff at the stupid question. "do you like me?"

you look up at him, stumbling for words to say to that. you look like he's just asked you to commit murder, biting harshly on your bottom lip before breathing out. "y-yes." your voice is so timid. "i've always liked you."

oh?

oh.

"and yet you were under eren like a whore the entire night." he's not sure why he allowed that to come out but he did. you inhale sharply, quickly shaking your head. "n—no. i—"

"what? it's not like you two tried to hide it. with the way you were giggling, the way you were moaning his name."

"you saw that?"

"of course i did. how can i kiss you when you've been with eren? moaning his name, crying for him to go deeper. do you you think you deserve my kiss, y/n?" he keeps his face impassive but he's filled with glee on the inside. at the humiliation on your face, the guilt.

"i-i'm sorry!" you stammer. "i s-slept with him and i...i admit i do like him but it's clear he doesn't feel the same way an—"

"so what? i'm just a second resort?"

"no!" you quickly deny. "i've liked you for so long, armin but you've made it clear you didn't want this friendship to continue. and after this morning...and tonight i don't want to let more years pass by before i confess my feelings a—i'm sorry for what i did with eren—i really...i'm sorry." your eyelashes have tears on them, fingers digging into his shirt as you try not to full on break down.

it's so adorable. you've always been a crybaby. "i probably don't deserve it but...please...please kiss me." your bottom lip trembles.

"well go on, kiss me." he wanted to tease more, have you grovel and beg but how can he? when you're looking so desperate for just one kiss.

have you really? always liked him? has he been so blind to not notice? fucking idiot. so you have always been on the right track, you've always known what you wanted. it's others who stopped you from achieving what you truly wanted. others and armin's stupid decisions.

he allows you to lean in, your nails almost digging into his cheeks as you kiss him. he instantly wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you closer. you tilt your head to the side to get a better angle, and just as your tongues meet, armin pulls out again which elicits a whimper from you. "what..."

he grabs your jaw harshly, fingertips digging into the sides as he forces you to open your mouth. you look so pretty like this for him. dressed in white with a damn halo over your head as you look at him with that expression on your face. eyes just begging for you to be fucked. he doesn't think as he spits in your mouth and you whimper but don't protest.

he lets go and you swallow without a second thought, eyes focused on him. he can see why eren was so rough that night, you're just asking for it. "you let him fuck you, y/n. let him touch you."

should he even be acting so possessive right now? he should save that for later, when he's wired the fact you belong to him and only him into your brain. but that look in your eyes...it seems you already know. and his cock twitches at the possibility. do you? do you already know who you belong to y/n?

he drags you back until your back bumps against the dresser, his hand grabs your cunt which is practically aching for him already. "you let him touch this. this which belongs to me." he says into your ear and you whimper, clenching his shirt.

"s—sorry, p—lease please i'm so—nngh!" armin pinches your clit, mercilessly digging his fingers into the sensitive bud.

"who does this belong to?"

slick is already forming, coating his fingers. tears gather in your eyes, "y-you."

it's like fireworks went off inside of him, like he's finally seeing the light after years and years of pining. you do know. you know that every inch of you belongs to him, that you weren't made for anyone else. you were made for him. only him.

you shiver as his lips plant soft kisses on your chest, his hand gripping your hip. those hips he's always had too many fantasies about to count. he bites down, wanting everyone to see his marks on you. to see who you belong to. his teeth nip on your chest, jaw, chin, neck—anywhere he can leave marks.

he just wants to make you feel good, so good you forget about all your other past partners. he roughly turns you around so you can see yourself in the mirror behind you, your hands lean on the dresser, a dazed look already in your eyes. "you don't care that he's here?" armin whispers.

you shake your head, "i don't. please armin, fuck me."

you let out a wonderful moan as he pulls your dress up, ripping your panties and throwing them on the ground. he dives a finger inside of your needy cunt, "fuck!" you whimper.

"does it hurt?" he mocks. he doubts it does. not with the way you're trembling with pleasure under his touch. "i'm sorry angel but you don't deserve lube. not after everything you put me through me."

you nod helplessly, not even disagreeing with his words. "i'm so sorry." tears fall down your cheeks, eyes looking back into his through the mirror.

you're so weak for his touch and it's so gratifying. it's all he's ever wanted.  "you're so pretty, so tight just for me." he inserts another finger, curling them until your legs start shaking under your own weight. he holds you up, teeth grazing your neck and peppering kisses on your back.

it's so hot. everything feels so hot as the moans travel out of your lips, the sound of his fingers inside of you followed by your high pitched whining. it's almost too much. eren is right there and although he's not waking up anytime soon, it's just...fuck. it takes another finger before you're spilling onto his hand, guttural moan escaping your lips as you almost fall down.

he smiles in ecstasy, bringing his fingers to his lips and shamelessly licking every single white spot he finds on them. why would he be ashamed? he's been waiting for this his entire life. this is all he could ever ask for. "it tastes just like candy." he grins near your ear.

you shiver, "please...please fuck me."

he doesn't allow himself any more stalling, he's gonna have the rest of your lives together to taste and tease you. right now, all he wants to do is sink into that tight heat. so he does. and you both moan at the feeling. it's so hot, taking it in like armin's cock was always meant to be there. and it was, wasn't it?

"fuck..." he grips your hips, starting to thrust up. the arousal eating him up.

"so—big." you choke out as he starts to fill you up all the way. "feels so good..." you grip his cock so perfectly. everything you do is so perfect.

he starts to thrust harder once you've adjusted, not sparing any time as he pounds into you. the items on the dresser start to shake, moving around but none of you care enough. skin slaps against skin, his fingers clench your hips while yours dig into the dresser. he grins at the way your mouth falls open, tongue lolling around as you're helpless to way he's drilling into you.

you love this. it's so evident on your face. you love the fact it's armin behind you, the fact it's him inside of you right now. you didn't even ask for a condom...fuck how perfect would that be? you filled up with his babies. he could almost cum just at the thought.

but he doesn't. instead he increases his pace, fucking you eagerly. "wanted this for so long. fuck, you're so tight. feels so good. you're so perfect. so so perfect."

you let out a wet sob, whether at his actions or words—he doesn't know but he relishes the sound. "you like that y/n? being pounded into like you're nothing? while the guy you claim to like sleeps not even five feet away? it's pathetic." he chuckles.

and he's not usually so mean. he won't be during your other sexual activities. no he'll treat you like a princess, like the perfect angel you are. but right now, he's angry. and you need to know your place.

"suh—sorry." you cry out. "won't do it again. so sorry." you shake your head, grinding your ass back to meet his thrusts.

you throw your head back, mouth parted and begging for a kiss to which armin gives. your tongues meet, swirling around together as he licks into your perfect mouth. you two moan into each others mouths as armin continues his pace and—fuck he has to almost slap himself for being an idiot and not doing this sooner as he brings his hand around to cup your right breast, clenching it tightly and you moan deliciously at the contact.

he grips it as your tongue goes to lick his teeth, licking anything really. you're so needy. just as needy as him. your moans get even louder and he's thankful eren's parents are out on some business trip cause he's pretty sure the entire neighborhood can hear you right now. "so—ah! so good armin. you make me feel so good." you say, voice airy. "please fill me up, please i want your cum."

he's pretty sure those exact words are the reason for the orgasm that happens not two seconds later. he grips your waist tightly, cock deep inside as he empties everything in you. you practically scream, legs shaking as armin continues to grind into you. making you feel every single inch of him. because it all belongs to you.

"so perfect." he pants, resting his sweaty forehead on your back. "so perfect."

would now be a good time to say he loves you?

you’re avoiding him.

at first he just thought you were just a bit shy considering the circumstances, you two were close friends then went through a period of barely speaking to each other for months only for him to end up fucking you in someone else’s bedroom.

so he gave you time to process all of that but it’s been two weeks...how much more time do you need? the first week he tried to stay calm but now it’s getting too much, the last time he gave you space you two didn’t speak for so long. that was his fault and he won’t make it again, he can’t go through that again. not after finally having a taste of you.

he sighs deeply, digging his fingers under the pillow and taking out the pink lace bra he took out of your drawer the other day. he just misses you too much. it feels like he can’t breath whenever you awkwardly walk out of a room once you see him, how you deliberately ignore his unwavering gaze, how you haven’t said even a single word to him.

it fills him up with anxiety and he needs to find a way to release somehow so he shamelessly acquired this piece of material. it’s not like he’s committed some crime, he just needed to find a way to be near you. to feel you again.

he wishes he could see it on you, maybe he’ll ask you to keep it on next time you two make love again. his hand was under his sweatpants the second he felt himself harden, quickly tugging on his length until he was panting into the pillow. “y/n...” he moans.

he needs you. needs to taste you, touch your soft skin and feel it under his fingertips. needs to hear your moans, see your scrunched up eyebrows and dazed out eyes as he pounds into you...fuck you’d be clawing at his shoulders just like that night. you’d be so tight as sweat drips down both of your bodies.

he grips his cock tighter, toes curled and eyes shut tight as the bra is held to his chest. if only he could live between your legs forever, feeling your tight heat and hearing your pretty little sounds. he’d never want to leave.

you’ve been gone all day, barely been around the last two weeks and he had no idea how much his schedule depended on you being near. even when he was ignoring you, most of the things he did throughout the day consisted of taking care of you. making sure you got to your classes, took your morning jokes safely, how he used to watch you study in the library and so much more. but he didn’t even know where you were now, he had your entire routine memorized back on campus. it definitely isn’t the same now that school was temporarily over.

loneliness was creeping in. he doesn’t know what to do without you. it’s not like he could study to pass the time anymore. fuck. all he needed was one more tug before he was releasing all over his hand.

that was unsatisfactory. it’s not like the real thing. masturbating does nothing anymore once he’s actually been inside of you. he groans, frustration threatening to take him apart as he gets up and walks towards the bathroom. it only takes a few minutes before he’s cleaned up and changed his clothes, ready to go to sleep.

but then he hears something.

rustling outside, right under his window. then he hears your soft voice, uttering something he can’t quite hear. he walks closer to it, thankful he left it slightly open.

what he sees...is definitely not what he expected.

his fingers unconsciously clench the window handle, almost breaking his nails in the process as he watches eren—eren walking down the lawn and into the street.

he was...he was in your room? he didn’t hear the front door open and there’s no other way for eren to have walked in unless he climbed that tree next to the two rooms. why was he in your room?

armin tastes blood in his mouth, biting down on his tongue so harshly that his teeth pierced into it. while he was in here, agonizing over your absence—you were in there with him. doing who knows what.

well, it’s pretty obvious what you were up to as he watches the pep in eren’s steps.

fucking hell.

he thought he fixed that.

are the healing bruises in his face just...fuck why are you with him? he shakes his head, trying to calm down but it’s pointless at this rate. he should’ve done more, he would’ve done more but then you suddenly came onto him that night and he thought he had won. apparently not.

playing nice is pointless. it seems you like men like eren regardless of the crappy actions they do. what’s wrong with you?

he’s walking to your bedroom in the next second, fists clenching and unclenching. what’s wrong with you? he goes to knock but then scoffs bitterly before sharply opening the door, hearing the sound of it smacking against the wall.

you’re on your bed, gasping and eyes widening at the abrupt action and sound. “armin—what—”

you’re just wearing an oversized shirt...that is definitely not his. looks like eren’s old football jersey. fucking hell. what is wrong with you, y/n?

“are you serious?” he breathes out, nails digging into the flesh of his palms. “are you fucking serious?” he takes a step forward and you anxiously scoot back on the bed.

“what are you doing?” you ask like he’s in the wrong. like he’s the one acting like a little confusing, manipulative whore.

“why are you doing this to me, y/n?” he grits out. “why?”

“doing what?” you raise your voice a bit, pursing your lips. the look in your eyes tells him you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“what’s so special about him? please tell me cause i don’t understand. why’d you go back to him even after everything he did? he doesn’t even love you—not like i do, how many times do i have to say no one loves you like i do?” he’s in front of you in a second, hands clenching your shoulders and slightly shaking you.

“y-you’re acting weird, armin.” your bottom lip starts to quiver. “you’re scaring me.”

“i’m scaring you?” he laughs. “not the man who almost beat me to a pulp? but it’s me who scares you?”

“l-like you said—he was drunk so...so he didn’t mean to! he said he apologized—”

“that’s not the point!” he yells, startling you. your eyes are widen to the point they look like they’re going to fall out but he doesn’t care. what’s wrong with you? “he’s brash, rude, inconsiderate. he could care less about you and trust me the second summer is over, he’s ditching your ass for someone else and yet you still pin after him? is that what you like y/n? do you enjoy getting walked over like a damn doormat by everyone? your parents, historia, abby and now eren? what the fuck is wrong with you?”

tears are gathering in your eyes, you bring your hands up to his and push them off of your shoulders. “you’re being mean.”

“i thought you liked that? unless it’s coming from me right? you allow everyone else to treat you like crap then come crawling to me with tears in your damn eyes when you need a safety net.” he seethes. “everyone else can be jackasses, except for me. i always need to be your perfect little armin.”

“what is your problem?” you stand up, facing him. trying to appear strong when you both know it’s all an act. you can barely stand up for yourself without crying. “you’re the one who ignored me for—”

“not this crap again. you’re the one who came onto me that night, saying you’re mine, begging me to fuck you and then you suddenly ignore me and go right back to eren even after everything.” he throws his hands up in the air.

“i like eren.” you exhale shakily, seems like those three words were the only ones you were capable of forming at the moment.

“you said you liked me too, remember? how you always liked me—”

“i was drunk that night, armin.” it’s said so nonchalantly, like it’s the actual truth but he knows better. he was watching you most of the night and you didn’t even go near a cup of alcohol.

fuck, he wants nothing more than to grip and throw you on that bed. fuck into you like the slut you apparently are and hear your soft noises. but it seems—it seems you don’t want that from him. you want that from eren. you want eren to be the big bad wolf and for armin to be your safe sanctuary whenever things get too rough.

he doesn’t want that. he wants to be your everything.

why can’t you allow that?

“so, what? you don’t want me?”

if being rough won’t work then he can try an alternative. it doesn’t matter if it makes him look pathetic, he needs you.

and the pain he’s in right now is excruciating, blurring his vision with tears. “can’t you at least try then y/n?” he walks over, hands suddenly grasping your wrists. the hold was rigid, crushing and even he was surprised at the sheer force of it. like he was trying to break something. “you can try to want me, to love me? can’t you? is it that hard? after everything i’ve done for you, you want to just leave me behind in the dust? everything i’ve done means nothing to you?”

you whimper, shaking your head no. “t—that’s not it. i just—” tears start to trail down your face, tiny sobs filling the room. “it’s not you, it’s me.”

“really? that crap line—”

“it’s the truth!” you exclaim, facing him again. “i...i don’t deserve you, armin. being with people like eren is better because even when i screw up, it won’t matter. b-but if we do get together than i’ll just mess everything up and hurt you and then i’ll lose you and i don’t wanna—i don’t want to lose you. i can’t.” you babble.

he stares at you, shock written all over his face. and disbelief, pure disbelief. that’s what you’re scared of? “the only thing that’s hurting me is you being with eren. it’s fucking kill me, y/n.” he chokes out. “and how many times do i have to tell you that i’ll never leave.”

“you left before.” you say, voice barley above a whisper. “you just left me alone to face everything and then you get mad cause of my choices—”

“i’m sorry, i regret doing that. so, so much.” he cups your cheeks, finally letting go of your wrist and it’s only then does he see the slight bruises his grip left on your wrist. fuck, why do you look so pretty with his marks?

“but that was the last time. i’m never leaving you again. i love you y/n. you’re all i need and i’m all you need, okay?” he leans his forehead against yours, taking in your everything. “okay?”

“but you can’t see the future, what if—”

“no.” he snaps, voice filled with finality. the only way he’s ever going to be apart from you is if the claws of death try to sink their way into him and even then, he’d find a way back to you. he can’t be without you. not anymore. it’s not even an option. “i won’t. i promise. okay?”

you stay silent for a minute, tears still streaming down as you sniff. “okay.” you rest your face in the crook of his neck, gripping the collar of his shirt. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, please forgive me.” you sob.

that’s exactly what you said that night and you still went and betrayed him. and yes you cleared things up. he knows it was all because of insecure, self sabotaging thoughts that pierced their way into you but what if they come back? what if you do that again? he can’t see you with eren anymore, he won’t be able to control his actions if he does. he backs away, taking your jaw into his hand and staring at you.

“you won’t do that again, will you?” he’s not asking. the tone in his voice makes it clear committing something as atrocious as that isn’t even a possibility anymore.

you nod meekly, doe eyes staring into yours with a hint of fear but this time he doesn’t care. if a bit of fear will keep you from shattering his heart again, then he hopes it sticks forever.

“i won’t.” you smile timidly.

good.

he’s inside of you not ten minutes later, chest covering your back as he fondles your breast. leaving marks anywhere he can. you’re his. and he’ll make sure everyone knows it. teeth sinking into fragile flesh with no mercy and with the way you cry out, you don’t seem to mind.

you’re yelping with every thrust, fingers clenching the sheets and his end goal is take several rounds throughout the night, pound into you until you’re non verbal. barely able to even let out tiny whimpers. he wants you so fucked out that no other cock will fill you up the way he does. and most certainly not eren’s.

he can tell he’s close, quickly flipping you around so you’re straddling him now, hands wrapping around your neck as you cry out. he smirks at the sight in front of him, purple marks covering your body, tear filled eyes and uncontrollable noises of pleasure.

so perfect.

it’s all he’s ever wanted.

he grips your waist, pistons in and out to the point you’re screaming. does historia hear that? hears you scream for him, evidence you’re his now. not theirs anymore. they can’t control you anymore, can’t taint what he loves any longer. armin’s the only one for you.

“oh—oh fuck.” you sniff through the tears, bouncing on top of him. that lace bra snug on your chest. you wore it just for him, just cause he asked.

“do you love me?” he pants, grip tightening.

you nod dumbly, without a second thought. “i do...i love you. i love you so much, armin.”

“good.” he smiles. fucking fantastic.

“you belong to me, right? you don’t need them anymore? right?” he practically begs.

you whimper, staying silent a second too long so he angles this next thrust into your sweet spot

causing you to yelp. “y-yes! i’m yours, i don’t need them.” you confirm.

“you don’t need anyone but me.”

“i don’t need anyone but you.” you whine, leaning your head onto his. “and you don’t need anyone but me, r-right?”

what kind of question is that? of course he doesn’t need anyone else. he’s never needed anyone else. if he could burn the entire world down with you two as the only survivors, he would. he wants you to himself, wants you to only have him. forever and always.

“of course.”

[k2padfoot]

Start Over

Draco x Y/n

Summary: Draco couldn’t love you in your marriage until he almost loses you.

Warnings: angst, angsty, angst. some fluff. TW: some self-harm imagery pls be careful reading!

The two of you had been married for one year now. You knew it wasn’t a marriage that he wanted, no it was more like one he was forced in to. On the other hand you, well you weren’t really surprised you had been wed to a Malfoy being a pureblooded Slytherin and all. The only thing you didn’t expect was for him to still not want you..

When Draco and yourself got married you were expecting him to be slightly reluctant at first, but you figured you’d win him with your charm over time. Unfortunately that never happened. You inevitably fell for the blonde haired beauty, but he just didn’t reciprocate those feelings even after a year. You’d fight with one another often, mostly over him not being loyal and the way he treated you. But he didn’t care, he just kept breaking your heart a little more each day. Tonight you were expecting just another drunk Draco to stumble through the door to your home.

It was around 11 o’clock now and you were sitting on the sofa with the fire crackling next to you illuminating the pages to your muggle book. You knew Draco was done with work around 7 pm and you knew he was definitely out getting wasted and falling over women that were not you like usual. Every friday night he shows up late, smelling like someone else, and his lips swollen red. He never let any other girls leave noticeable marks on him, thinking you still didn’t know what he was truly up to. Your eyes were drawn away from your book when your front door came swinging open, and an intoxicated Draco Malfoy stumbled in. You rolled your eyes at his appearance, he was noticeably wasted and you could already smell the alcohol coming off of him.

“What are you rolling your eyes about?” Draco said while slurring his words and stumbling to hang up his coat.

You slammed your book shut and rose to your feet, “Merlin Draco, do you think i’m that daft? Your such an ass!” You yelled to him as you tried to make your way past him, but he quickly grabbed your shoulder.

“Y/n, what the hell is your problem now? You are so damn needy and annoying!” he yelled back in to your face and you grimaced at the alcohol stench coming from his breath.

Your eyes were filling with tears but you didn’t want him to see how much his words really did hurt you, “Piss off! You’re drunk Draco, go to bed.” you said while you turned around and headed to the study.

You walked into your study and plopped down at the desk in the middle of the room. You just wanted to be alone right now. You could hear Draco slamming around outside of the door, but you didn’t care. You were so tired, so tired of his harsh words, his lack of decency, his disgusting actions, and just everything at this point. He had no idea just how much he hurt you everyday, and now it’s been a whole year of this and you were just so unbelievably tired.

Draco never understood why you got so upset with him. He assumed you disliked him just as much by the way you acted a lot. He figured you didn’t want to marry him either, he thought you’d never be able to love him, he knew he would break your heart so he made sure you wouldn’t fall for him. But he didn’t know how much he was breaking you already, he had no idea just how in love with him you were.

You had been reading in the study for at least an hour now trying not to consume yourself with bad thoughts. Your head was pounding, and you could feel yourself becoming more and more anxious by the minute. You quickly got up from the desk and made your way to the bathroom. You quietly tip toed past Draco’s sleeping form in your bed, you knew he’d be passed out with how much he drank so he wouldn’t come in. You had a routine for nights like this, nights where you just couldn’t handle everything.

Your bare feet came in contact with the cold tiled floor in your shared bathroom. You flipped on one of the many lights and walked over to your bathroom sink. You pulled open the cabinet under the sink and reached in for the bottle of wine you hid in there. You took it out and popped the seal while you let the large bathtub in the center of the room fill up. You never drank really and Draco knew that was because of how badly your father drank... But sometimes you just needed something to take the edge off. You slipped out of your clothing and into the warm water letting it soothe your skin. Your head was leaning against the edge of the tub and you took a deep breath before you brought the bottle to your lips and began to down some. Waiting for the pain to slowly fade away as you closed your eyes and let your body relax in the warm water.

You opened up your eyes and realized how quickly you had gotten tipsy from the wine, must’ve been because of your empty stomach. Your head was buzzing and your vision was blurred a bit, you only ever drank half a glass at most to take the edge off. But this time the large double bottle you had gotten out was half empty. This was a different type of drunk, and you didn’t like it. You didn’t like how it made your head hurt even more with bad thoughts. You didn’t like how it made your blood burn, how it made your bones numb, and your cheeks stained with hot tears. You hadn’t realized you were quietly sobbing in the tub now, eyes becoming too heavy to keep open anymore. So you let yourself slip down and become submerged in the hot water.

Draco had woken to the sound of your cries and busted into the bathroom to see you almost lifeless inside the tub. He grabbed underneath your arms and pulled you out of the water. His eyes had gazed over the almost empty bottle of wine sitting by the bathtub. His arms were wrapped around your torso as he sat the both of you down against the wall and pointed at your chest with his wand while speaking the reviving spell. Draco was now sitting behind you sobbing as he held your wet body close to his own. Your eyes shot open quickly after and you gasped loudly.

“Y/n!!! Y/n, what the hell were you doing?!! Please look at me!” Draco said as he turned your head to look into his perfect blue eyes.

You felt embarrassed but you knew you owed him an answer, “Draco, this wasn’t meant to happen. I-I just.. Sometimes I can’t handle the pain you know?” you said while stray tears slid down your cheeks.

Draco started to wrap a soft green towel around you,“Love, please tell me what’s going on?” he asked with soft eyes.

You tried to get up but you were too dizzy to stand, “Draco please don’t call me that!” you cried while hitting your fist lightly against his chest. “You don’t mean it! You don’t love me, i’m nothing to you!!” you yelled as he grabbed your arm and you fell into his chest crying.

He looked down at you with silent tears rolling down his own cheeks and softly kissed the top of your wet hair, “Y/n I- I am so fucking sorry. I never wanted to hurt you like this! Merlin I am so stupid!!!” he yelled and you flinched a bit at his tone. “Oh.. no.. no Y/n I- i’d never hurt you like that, and I never meant to hurt you like this.. I thought you’d be better off not loving me, I thought i’d hurt you if I let myself love you and I couldn’t do that.. I’ve wanted you for so long y/n but I thought it was just selfish of me. I figured if I couldn’t let myself love you i’d just live with you but I had no idea it was effecting you like this.” he said as he tilted your chin to look in his eyes again.

“Then why did you do it? Why did you let other women touch you like I should’ve been? Why did you say such harsh things to me?” you said while tears glistened your y/e/c eyes.

Draco looked down at you before answering, “I don’t know. I have no good explanation for you y/n and I know that’s not what you want to here but I just want you to know I’m sorry darling. You are worth so much more, you deserve so much more and I am so sorry I haven’t been giving you that. Your absolutely beautiful inside and out and I couldn’t apologize more for not realizing that in time. You deserve someone so much better y/n.” he said while he pushed a few stray hairs behind your ear.

You shifted in his arms to be completely facing him now, “But that’s the thing.. I don’t want anyone else, even after the things you’ve done I still don’t want someone else. Maybe we haven’t been able to truly love one another the right way but I don’t know Draco.. That doesn’t mean I just want to let you go.” you said to him as you nervously bit your bottom lip.

He reached down to cup your cheeks, “I don’t want to let you go either, honestly I never want to.. But I hurt you when I thought I was doing the complete opposite, I don’t want ever do that again. I don’t want you to feel like the things I did are ok. I want you to know just how important you are.” Draco said.

A stray tear slid down your left cheek, “I don’t want you to either... But I- I’d rather try than regret never knowing what this could really be.” you said while reaching up with your right arm to grab his own.

Within a couple of seconds Draco had smashed his lips on your own, and you felt it. The rush, and the pure infatuation. Draco felt the exact same way.

“Then could we start now?” he said as he pulled away from the kiss.

You gave him a confused look, “What do you mean?” you asked.

He gently placed your hands in his and pulled you to your feet, “Well for starters I am going to get rid of this,” he said while he dumped the rest of the wine bottle down the sink. “Next we’re going to give you a proper bath and then i’ll help you into some of my favorite sweats, & we can lay in each other’s arms for the rest of the night?” he asked you with a loving look on his face.

“I think that’s a perfect way to start.” you said as you smiled back.

“Then take this off and get back in love.” Draco said while he pulled at your towel. You giggled at his gesture and pressed your lips to his soft ones.

He pulled away and caressed your cheek, “I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you darling.”

You smiled in response and hoped for a new life with the beautiful boy in front of you.

[elisaphoenix13]

Walking An Unwanted Mile (Or Just Thirty Steps)

Tony was almost afraid to open his eyes. He was convinced that he had died in his sleep and fell down into hell because heat surrounded him. It was like a blanket wrapped tightly around him that he couldn't escape from…and now they were using their pitchforks. He didn't even think that was actually a thing in hell but here he was getting the full exper–

There was a snore.

Tony felt like he knew that snore. Low and cat like, directly in his ear…but it wasn't Stephen. He was definitely in hell. The sorcerer didn't spoon him, and especially not like this. He did the spooning. So Tony was even more convinced that he had fallen into hell.

Or at least a hell like dimension. Maybe he pissed off his wife by kicking him in his sleep or something. That wouldn't be so far fetched. Stephen liked uninterrupted sleep when their bed wasn't occupied by their children or other Avengers with their own nightmares.

Something was still rubbing Tony the wrong way about his situation though. The wrong parts of his body hurt first of all. His neck and wrist burned with a passion and the heat enveloping him wasn't helping matters. That damn pitchfork was ba–

Then it all clicked when Tony finally opened his eyes and found himself staring into the eyes of a tiger.

Tony had never scrambled out of bed so fast. Which took some effort because Quill was practically sleeping on top of him and Tony had to push him off to escape. The sudden movement jolted the god out of sleep and Tony had to grab something to cover himself because he realized that he was in the buff.

Fortunately there had at least been a pillow.

"What are you doing in my bed?!" Tony nearly screeches, making Quill stumble out of the bed himself and make Flynn fall to the floor with a surprised yelp. He couldn't help but look down because the god had been in his own birthday suit and his immediate thought was how has Scott not been turned inside out?!

"What are you freaking out about?!" Quill asks, not bothering to cover himself and making Tony avert his gaze.

"You're in my bed!"

"It's our bed!

"I don't remember sharing a bed with a god that has the body heat to make hell envious!"

A full three seconds of silence passed as Quill stared at him, and then finally, "...Tony?"

"Yeah! Who did you think you were stabbing with the Loch Ness monster?! Which brings me to my next question…how is your husband alive?!" As he ranted, Quill finally had the decency to cover himself long enough to get into some sweatpants. "And for the third time–"

Tony was interrupted by Quill walking over to him and placing his hand over his mouth to silence him. Without saying a word, he leads him to the bathroom and removes his hand. Before Tony could say anything though, he caught his reflection and froze.

Scott was staring back at him.

Well that explained why his neck and wrist hurt. As well as–

"Oh God please tell me you cleaned up after destroying him." Tony winces.

"...uhh…"

"Get me clothes right now." Tony says immediately before shoving Quill out of the bathroom and closing the door.

"Oh come on! I've seen every inch of that body!" Quill sighs. 

"Well it's currently mine so you get to live without it!" Tony calls through the door. "I swear if you put one finger on me while I'm in Scott's body…"

"So…what? Gotta go find your body and kiss it good morning?" Quill huffs.

"You do and my wife will make you sleep for a century." Tony winces when his throat flares up. "Damn. Is this what Scott deals with on a daily basis? I thought my arm was bad."

Tony hears some shuffling before the bathroom door cracks open to allow the god to pass him some clothes and he takes them with a mumbled thank you. He closes the door again to get dressed, having to take his time since both his neck and wrist flared up with each passing second. He barely got his pants on before he had to stop and try to push through the pain so he could button and zip up. The pain didn't pass in any small amount though. It was constant and raging and possibly only getting worse…and Tony was honestly borderline ready to cry from it.

His arm had its own flare-ups like this but somehow that paled in comparison to what Scott dealt with on a regular basis. Tony could deal with the wrist, but the neck? Any future movement he made, he was afraid his head would fall off. The smallest twinge made everything else hurt like hell.

It was no wonder Quill was going out to space less and less.

Tony attempted to get the god's attention by calling out for him, but the simple action of opening his mouth sent searing hot pain through him and all he could manage was a whimper. Clearly a noise that Quill was accustomed to because the bathroom door opened seconds later and the celestial was rushing over with his light already in his hands. In the next second, there was relief. Cool and blissful. Tony hadn't even realized his shoulders were hunched until the pain ebbed away enough for him to think straight.

"How many bad days does he have?" Tony manages to mumble.

"The more accurate question here would be how many good days has he had." Quill sighs. "You okay now?"

"I'm better." Tony admits before finally grabbing his shirt and putting it on. "We better get upstairs so Duchess can fix this."

"It's really weird to hear you call him that in Scott's voice."

Tony, of course, took that opportunity to speak in Italian and say things he would say that Scott wouldn't…and watching the celestial squirm. He was enjoying the fact that he could make the hairs on Quill's neck stand on end from something as simple as calling Stephen his tesoro. Flynn and Emir had followed out of curiosity, but he was willing to bet that the tiger knew he wasn't Scott and simply wanted to find his master. Which he did when he and Quill made it up to the penthouse and Emir promptly walked over to him and rubbed along his legs like he was nothing more than a house cat.

Looking at himself standing in the kitchen with Stephen was starting to rub him the wrong way too. There was an enormous difference between a reflection and real life.

"Why are you blushing?!" Tony demands when he sees the pink in his cheeks.

"Nothing happened I swear!" Scott defends immediately while Stephen coughs uncomfortably. "He came onto me and I pushed him off!"

Tony blinked. "One of the rare times Stephanie wakes me up with the promise of a good time is when the universe decided to swap our bodies?! How did this even happen anyway?"

"I believe it was caused by the pendant I had yesterday." Stephen finally says. "Besides myself, only the two of you touched it after I told you not to."

"How come only me and Tony switched bodies?" Scott wonders.

"Because I protect myself with magic before I handle artifacts I know nothing about." Stephen says flatly. "The good news is that I can fix this. Just give me a few minutes to get ready."

With that, Stephen left the kitchen to make his way into Tony's office where some of his sorcery books were stored, and Quill groaned loudly in relief.

"I'm glad. You have no idea how much self control I'm using not to touch right now."

Scott, in Tony's body, smirked. "How was your good morning Tony?"

"Bite me Lang." Tony grits out before holding up his hand. "No I'm sure Quill already does that which brings up my previous question. How are you still in one piece?"

"Wait…you two didn't actually–"

"Hell no!" Quill shudders.

"No, but I was very enthusiastically poked and prodded." Tony grunts out. "And the heat! I was sure I died and went to hell!"

Scott shrugged. "I like it."

"You two are weird."

Stephen comes back moments later with a book in his hand and he approaches them. "Alright. All you need to do is face each other and hold hands."

Tony huffs. "Do we have to?"

"Not if you want to Scooby-Doo this crap and have all four of us switch bodies until we're the way we're supposed to be." Stephen responds dryly.

Tony definitely didn't want to go through that. He'd seen that scene once while the kids were watching it one day and it wasn't something on his to do list. It was bad enough having to experience Scott's pain…and soreness from the night previous. He wasn't looking to try out Quill's body too. Knowing his luck, he would accidentally destroy the earth when he had no inclination of how to control the celestial's powers.

Now Stephen's body on the other hand…

"You may feel a pinch but otherwise it should be painless." Stephen suddenly says.

That was all the warning he got before he felt like he was being sucked into a vortex. Everything warped and blurred for a moment and in the next…nothing. He felt tethered again. Tony dared to crack an eye open and exhaled with relief when he found himself looking at Scott. And not a reflection.

"If I never go through that again, it will be too soon." Tony says as he drops Scott's hands. The younger man finally braved opening one of his own eyes before slumping with relief.

Quill wasted no time in gathering Scott in his arms while Tony turned his attention to Stephen as the sorcerer closed his book. With a smile, he steps closer and gently grips his chin to place a kiss on his lips.

"Thank you and good morning Duchess." Tony smirks. "I'm offended that you would so easily crawl into bed with Sc–" Stephen immediately smacks the side of his head with a scowl and Tony chuckles. "You know I'm only kidding tesoro. But I am traumatized now. Should we revisit your earlier attempt to seduce me so I can get the Loch Ness monster out of my head?"

Scott snickers and Stephen looks at Tony with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't think I want to know." Stephen mutters.

"Oh, to answer your question…the fountain of youth." Quill cackles and Tony cringes.

"Oh. Gross. Sorry I asked. Honey, let's go upstairs before the baby wakes up. We can do it in the closet for all I care." Tony pleads.

Stephen finally chuckles and grabs the front of Tony's shirt to start leading him back upstairs to their room. Tony heard Scott say something about his ass still hurting before their bedroom door closed and he shuddered at the thought that he could have possibly been a victim to the beast between Quill's legs.

"Duchess?"

"Hmm?" Stephen hums as he moves closer to kiss him.

"Have you ever wanted to…you know…switch?"

"Nope. I'm perfectly happy being lazy and pampered." The sorcerer chuckles. "I do everything around here so I'd much rather lay back and let you do most of the work. If not all of it."

"I never thought I would be so relieved to hear you say that." 

"Well after your traumatizing experience…" Stephen starts to tease before Tony covers his mouth.

"Just march yourself into the closet so I can tie you up with some scarves." Tony huffs fondly before smiling wickedly. "Maybe I'll gag you too. We don't want to wake up Lulu after all."

Stephen could only answer with a soft moan.

[eunoiaflow3r]

not ur friend

spencer reid x reader

aaron hotchner x reader

part two - part three

a/n: haven’t written for spence in a while lol. hope you guys like it. wow...and i wrote him as an ass. bahahaha what am i going through i’m so sorry.

warning(s): language. angst. not proofread. will be mistakes.

word count: 1.8k

request(ed): no.

summary: y/n overhears something she shouldn’t have. this conversation alters her relationship.

not ur friend by jeremy zucker.

———————-——————&————————————

Hang up, if you ever think of calling me up. Not afraid to say it, darling.

3 days.

It’s been an entire weekend of you ignoring Spencer and his ever intruding phone calls. This wouldn’t have been a big deal except for the fact that this felt like a breakup. Your head and heart was treating this like you were in a relationship and he made it painfully clear that you weren’t.

It was quiet in your apartment. The television was off, the radio was silent, the heater had paused and even the refrigerator wasn’t making the usual silent buzz noise it made. The deafness of it all allowed the conversation you heard friday night play over and over again through your ached head.

Friday 11:37 pm.

“So Reid...” you picked up your phone when it rang and read Spencer’s name across the screen. It wasn’t like him to call so late but you picked up anyway. When it was a muffled Morgan’s voice you heard instead of Spencer’s you realized he hadn’t even meant to call you at all.

“How’s your girlfriend?”

You just knew all eyes were on him. Spencer Reid was very private about his social life. It was rare he even told you about anything he’d been up to. He just wasn’t one for small talk. The fact that you just knew they were talking about you made you press your phone harder into your ear even though you weren’t even sure you should have been listening.

“Oh y/n? Yeah she’s definitely not my girlfriend.”

This stung. There wasn’t even a label or anything that you guys put on it, but usually when Spencer would talk about his romantic relationships he’d get nervous and stuttery and try to change the subject. Spencer’s voice was clear and steady. Zero hints of nervousness and bashfulness. He was serious.

“Really?” This was Emily now, you could recognize her voice. “You guys seem like pretty close friends if you know what I mean.” Her tone was laced with humor but Spencer’s was far from joking.

“No. I wouldn’t call us friends either. She’s just someone I visit. Like y’know...how you would a grandmother.”

A grandmother? He compared you to a grandmother? He said visiting you was like visiting a grandmother?? You could feel the tears in your eyes. You really thought Spencer was a good guy. Why would he say something so rude? Something so hurtful about the person he was sleeping with.

It wasn’t a friends with benefits. You guys had agreed on that, but you weren’t dating either. You had met him at a museum and ever since then you two had behaved as if a couple would. The only difference was that you weren’t public. You weren’t posting pictures, or gushing over how cute you thought your “boyfriend” was to your friends. And you were fine with that. Labels are constricting. You were glad not to have them except when he decided to say he barely knew you at all and compared you to a grandmother.

“Damn.” Morgan sounded impressed. “Does she know that?”

“Maybe.” Spencer paused. “There’s nothing really romantic about our relationship. To be honest, she can be a bit needy at times and it’s suffocating.”

He paused again.

“I’m actually thinking of breaking things off. She wants more and I just don’t like her that way.”

Sorry, I'm not sorry if it hurts. I don’t mean to make it worse.

This is where you hung up. Your tears never stopped flowing. How dare he? How dare he say you were needy and suffocating? You rarely asked him for anything, and didn’t bother him with things at all. You knew he was a busy person. A busy and hardworking person. You never tried to ask him for more than he was willing to give. Ever. It hurt your heart to think he was playing you the whole time.

It hurt to think that all the “I adore you’s” and “I think I’m in love with you’s” were all fake. You were pretty sure with the way things were headed that you and Spencer would have much more than just a relationship. Much more than sex and cuddles. But a meaning - an understanding.

Spencer was your comfort. Your safe place. The person you’d go to if you were hurting, or in trouble. You were his. Countless times he came to your house and cried to you about the stress from his job. He’d hold you and tell you all about his day and what more he wished he could have done.

You’d buy him his favorite food and he’d cuddle you to sleep only to wake you up in the morning with kisses and great morning sex. To hear all of that meant basically nothing to him tore your heart to pieces.

It made you want to throw up. Had you wasted your time? Had he felt this way the entire time and you just never noticed because you hoped he felt the same? Were there signs that you missed? Something you could have done to prevent yourself from falling this hard for someone who didn’t care?

But you thought he cared.

Spencer was the most caring, empathetic person you’d ever met in your life. He was so understanding in a way no one could ever get.

I've decided that I'm not your fucking friend.

This is why you thought that maybe this is why he tried to hide you. Maybe he just was afraid of his friends not liking you, or afraid of someone from where he worked would try to hurt you. You prayed this was the case. You hoped and cried that this was the reason he’d ever let those words leave his mouth.

The reason you couldn’t believe this though is something understandable.

He had never, ever, called you anything other than his friend, and never wanted to go out.

He told you it was because he was protecting you, but he never wanted to even meet your friends. And when you talked about a guy or introduced him to one, he’d get upset and say something like, “Yeah well he seems perfect for you anyway. Not like we’re a thing - do what you want.”

And your brain tried to rationalize this as protection. The more you thought about it the more the other part of your brain screamed manipulation. You tried to ignore it but is that what was happening? Had he been manipulating you the entire time and you just never knew it?

If he was protecting you he wouldn’t call you needy. He wouldn’t not even bother to look at your friends. He wouldn’t feel the need to hide you from the entire world and lie about it in such a - douchebag way.

This hurt you though. His team can call out a liar faster than anyone and they would have said something if they thought he was lying. They would have defended you. The wouldn’t have egged him away and joked about you like you were some embarrassing one night stand.

You expected respect and decency and got dishonesty and asshole attitudes instead.

After the weekend of pitying yourself you realized you needed to stop. This wasn’t your fault. He has issues of his own. Issues he needs to work out and come to terms with on his own. Why should you feel anything for a man trying to hide you? Lying to you? Lying to his friends ABOUT you. Reassuring yourself helped but didn’t help the ache in your heart.

Were you ready for this? Were you ready to throw it all away? After all it could just be a misunderstanding. A misinterpretation. It could be your fault. Maybe you were clingy.

No.

No. Absolutely not. You weren’t going to try to defend his actions.

Right now, there's not much that we agree on. Sit down, if you need someone to lean on.

You called him.

“Hello?” he answered right away. “Where have you been are you okay? I was gonna come over and check.”

“Don’t come over.” You cleared your throat and blinked away tears.

“Then please come to mine. I have to talk to you, I missed you.”

He still has no idea. He doesn’t have a clue what you overheard on the phone. All the pieces of the puzzle you put together. All that you’ve realized in the past 3 days.

You rolled your eyes. Any other day you’d think his obliviousness was adorable but right now it only made you want to punch him in his stomach for lying to you and wasting your time.

“I’ll be over to give you your things.”

And you hung up.

That was so hard for you to do and you had hot wet tears running down your face to prove it. No matter how many times you tried to brush them away they just kept on going down.

Fuck him.

A shower and a change of clothes later you were finally ready to see him.

Honest, if I'm coming to your place, it's to say it to your face...

In your car you tried to talk yourself out of it. You told yourself to just forget the phone call over happened and just go back to the way things were. At least you here happy then...at least...sort of. You were okay. You were happy with him. The time you spent with him was enjoyable but you were tired of being his therapist. You were tired of being his dirty mistress. You didn’t want to be lied to or lied about. You were over it.

When you got there he rushed you in the house and looked down at you confusingly.

You had never been inside his place. The only time you were ever really here was when you were inside waiting in the car so that he could change his shirt.

“I thought you were coming tomorrow?”

“I came now to give you your things.”

“JJ will be here soon, you should probably leave. Why did you bring this stuff?”

“They’re yours. They shouldn’t be at my place.”

He looked confused but took the box from your hands anyway.

“I’m leaving.” You simply said and turned towards the door. The sooner you were out the better.

“Can I at least have a kiss?” Spencer asked in the cute voice he knew you liked.

You closed your eyes. “Sorry Reid, but no. I don’t want to seem needy or suffocating, ya’know? Makes it easier to break things off.”

Color drained from his face as he realized what you were talking about. He couldn’t even come up with an excuse other than a - “No, baby I -“

You put your palm in the air facing him telling him to stop.

“It’s okay. I was just someone you visited...like a grandmother. You shouldn’t miss me too much. We’re not even friends, right?”

You walked out of the house.

You walked out on him. Your heart was beating out of your chest. He was always the one to leave. He was always the one to say goodbye.

I've decided that I'm not your fucking friend.

—————————————-#————————————

taglist: @hotchsbabygirl @pinkdiamond1016 @thefemalestorywriter @sizzlingclamturtlesludge @samyilf123