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jungkookstatts · 1 year ago

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What We Need

[Summary]: You and Jungkook are polar opposites. Except in the bedroom. You two agreed to just sex after breaking up, realizing that your personalities weren't working in the dating world. But the world has warned you that fuckbuddies never truly stay as fuckbuddies.

[Theme]: Non Idol AU, Ex's AU, Fuckbuddies AU, Enemies to Lovers(?) AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes and innuendoes. Spanking, marking, kissing, nasty time. Demon JK.

[Word Count]: 2,143

[A/N]: I am filthy, sorry ㅠㅠ.

This is a constant cycle.

You get horny. You text him. He comes over. He fucks your brains out. He leaves.

Or, vice versa.

This is something you both agreed on a while ago.

Dating didn’t work out for the two of you. You tried, but your personalities clash in the worst possible way. He’s too reactive — everything was either offensive or annoying to him. Especially when it came to jealousy. The man couldn’t stand just a look from another man in your direction. It blew all his fuses, and cut your own short just trying to understand him. On the other side, you hated talking about anything at all. Half of his reaction came from the fact that you couldn’t explain why you were angry about it. It left both of you frustrated. You felt he should have known without you having to explain the obvious, and he felt that his feelings and reactions were valid, even if it was over just a small issue.

Just about the only thing you both agreed on was sex. After you broke up, the two of you couldn’t deny that no one else matched up to the way you two fucked. You tried another partner, but he couldn’t give you the same satisfaction that Jungkook gave you. Apparently, Jungkook was in the same boat.

Putting all your hatred for the man beside you, there’s no denying how attracted you are to each other and how well you two click in the bedroom. That’s obvious now more than ever, in the depths of his sheets, with his mouth on your clit and your fingers tugging on his hair.

“Ffuckk,” you cry, pulling on his locks.

The man beneath you simply grips your hips tighter, digging his fingers into your skin. He’ll surely leave marks, and you smile knowing that he knew you’d like that.

Jungkook moans into your pussy, his tongue delving into you every so often before he swirls around your clit in the way you like. The hotness of his tongue fills you with a fuzzy warmth at the pit of your stomach with every movement, moan, and grip he enforces onto your body. He’s been at it for 10 minutes, eating you like you’re Thanksgiving dinner. There are juices dripping from his chin onto the hardwood floor, but he doesn’t care. He’s determined to make you reach another high. He’ll make it happen, and you know it.

You almost feel yourself there, and you try to pull his head away at the feeling. But he’s too strong for you; your efforts are completely fruitless against his torture.

“K-Kook,” you gasp, scared of the orgasm you feel looming over you. “T-too much.”

He simply shakes his head, knowing you can take it. He hums against you, adding two fingers into you, and curling them upwards into your g-spot while focusing all his tongue technology on your clit.

This seems to do it, and he moans into you when you cum for him, spilling out onto his fingers just the way he likes it. You cum saying his name over and over again, sending him into a praise-kink frenzy with the way you chant his name like it’s the only word you know.

Jungkook pulls away from you, and quickly takes off his black Calvins before he rests a knee on the bed. You shiver at the cold air hitting your pussy, a stark difference from the fire that his tongue played over your folds just moments ago.

“You good?” he asks, wiping your juices from his mouth with the back of his forearm. He pumps his dick for a second, feeling dominant knowing he got your body to look as fucked out as it looks below him.

You catch your breath for a few moments, placing your arm over your eyes as you pant into the air. You hear Jungkook laugh at you, and you almost say something before you hear him ripping open a condom and sliding it on.

You take your arm off your eyes, staring at him upsettingly.

“That’s my favorite part,” you frown, sad that he didn’t allow you to slide the condom on. Typically, you give him a good sloppy-toppy before you slide the condom on in return for eating you out to hell and back. So you feel a little confused as to why he wouldn’t want one this time.

In fact, this isn’t the first time he’s cut your time together a little shorter than it usually is. These days, he’s been leaving out an activity or two in your typical fuck schedule, cutting the time in half. You hate that it makes you feel scared. You’re not together anymore, and you shouldn’t be surprised that he probably has other dates and girls to fuck after this. You hate that you don’t like that idea.

“Sorry,” he laughs. “Do you want to?”

“Well,” you sigh, turning over onto your stomach. “I did, but let’s not waste a condom. It’s fine.”

Jungkook strokes his cock at the sight of you. This is his favorite position by far. Something about it makes him cum in seconds, and he doesn’t know why.

“Next time,” he promises.

But you roll your eyes, remembering that he had said that the last time he denied you.

“Sure,” you say dryly.

Jungkook slaps your ass hard, and you jolt, looking back at him with a furrow between your eyebrows. He does it again harder, and you gush out. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction of the fact that you liked it, you attempt to reprimand him, but he’s already slipping into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size and his speed. He pistons into you, gripping your waist hard and using it for support as he slams his hips against your ass.

“Hmm,” he whines between a thrust. You can imagine his face right now, tilting his head back at the feeling while his eyes shut in an attempt to control himself. “B-best pussy, ffuckk.”

You nearly scream into the mattress, trying to hold in your third orgasm for longer. He fits you like a puzzle when you’re like this. Dick perfect for you, and body so capable of giving you what you need. He’s brutal with you, and he knows every single one of your limits. He knows how you like it, and you know how he likes it. It’s perfect...just for now.

“K-Kook,” you mewl into the back of your palm. He grabs it, placing his palm over the back of your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. He does the same to the other one, trapping them against the sheets next to your head under his weight.

“God you’re so good,” he pants in your ear. “No one else, you hear me?”

You nod frantically, unable to produce a sound. His hair falls against your cheek, moving with his thrusts as he continues to fuck you to oblivion.

“You’re my slut, understand?” he grunts angrily, gripping your hands tighter. “No one else can fuck you like this. Only me.”

“Mmhm,” you whine, leaning your head back against his shoulder. You feel him almost kiss your neck, and you whine in disappointment when he doesn’t indulge in the opportunity.

“Fuck— say it Y/n,” he demands. He bites on your ear gently, waiting for a response. When you don’t answer, he pulls out without a warning.

“What the f—” you pout, feeling completely empty. You were almost there, and he took it away from you. These questions were typical of your fucking activities. So why he wasn’t satisfied by your answers this time leaves you unable to determine what to do next.

Looking back at him, you feel confused by his expression. But he doesn’t give you time to analyze it before he turns you over onto your back, pushing your legs up to your chest as he aligns himself up again.

“Jungkook, what are you doing?” you ask him. You two agreed not to do missionary anymore. It’s too personal for just fuck buddies. But you watch him break the rules right in front of you, and all you can do is question him, unable to find the will to stop him.

He slips into you slowly, causing you to gasp at the feeling you had forgotten this position gave you. You’re not the only one feeling the effects of it. The man before you begins to lose strength, resting his forearms on the sides of your head. He traps you with tattoos, piercings, and honey skin, leaving you to feel completely overwhelmed by the familiarity of the unfamiliarity you are experiencing with him right now.

“Say it, Y/n,” he bites on your neck.

Jungkook’s pace returns to what it was before. You find yourself grasping onto his back for support, digging your nails at the feeling that you missed so badly but couldn’t admit to him that you did.

“O-Only you, Koo,” you tilt your head back against his hand. You give him the answer he always asks for. “Only you can make me feel this w-way.”

But something in Jungkook isn’t satisfied. He suddenly gains strength again and hikes your legs over his shoulders.

“G-god,” he rolls his eyes back for a second at the feeling before looking down at you. You’re so blissed out, so satisfied and fucked to the core. He feels himself hit your cervix, prompting him to go faster and deeper than he has in months. The feeling causes you to cry from the pleasure, feeling so overwhelmed and confused by the man above you. But he doesn’t stop. In the next few moments, he sears his lips onto yours, kissing you hotly and passionately — another rule broken. Despite the forbidden, you can’t help but embrace him. Jungkook’s a good kisser, but on top of that, you really missed this with him.

You slide your hands around his neck, holding him against your lips, refusing to let him go. He’s sloppy and wet, but you don’t care. Not when it feels so good to be kissed by him again.

Jungkook feels his dick twitch harshly when you whisper his name against his lips, biting at his bottom lip a little. Kissing you sent him into a high before, but kissing you now? He forgot what it felt like, and his balls tighten just from the thought itself.

“M’ gonna cum,” he groans, head falling into your neck heavily.

“Me too,” you admit. You clutch onto him, gasping as one hand sends red streaks down his back, and the other tugs on his hair like he’s some rag doll.

You tighten around him so tightly when he begins to move faster, causing him to falter in his rhythm a little.

“S-So, tight, Y/n,” he moans. His dick twitches inside of you as you cum on his cock, forcing him to follow in his own streaks of white paint. “Fuckk,” he curses into your skin.

He rides out both of your highs, too blissed out to tell how long it’s been since the two of you came, too overwhelmed to stop.

It’s not until you push on his shoulders that he finally snaps out of it.

The two of you look at each other for a long while, ignoring his dick slowly going flaccid, and the whole area down there growing cold from the lack of friction. For a while, you watch his pupils grow to the size of nickles as he looks into your eyes. He presses his palm against your cheek, and you lean against it out of pure habit.

The action causes him to scrunch his nose in laughter. You can’t help but follow after him. You laugh with him, feeling relief that the laughter you share is both of your realizations that things can't continue like this anymore. Not when it felt too good to break the rules. Not when you realize that maybe the rules need to be broken to start something new...again.

He begins to die down his laughter for a second, still smiling, but this time not showing his teeth.

“Y-You wanna try this again?” he asks first. “I’m willing to put in the work we need.”

“If you’re willing, I’m willing,” you brush the hair out of his face.

He kisses you again, softly this time. It’s real, and it feels different from all the times he’s kissed you before. There’s truth in his words. You feel that he’s already changed already, and it inspires you to change as well. For you and for him so that the two of you can work as a couple again.

“We’re so stupid,” he laughs again, brushing his nose against yours.

“We are,” you admit with a smile.

----

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]

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kiwriteswords · 28 days ago

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All is Bright

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: apologies to those who have requested things before this! I am working on a few others, but I had to get this one out today! Hope everyone enjoyed their Thanksgiving if they celebrate it! I also would be happy to take holiday requests that are non-christmas!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Grumpy!Female Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Tags/Warnings: Christmas, Alcohol TW, Grumpy!Reader, Hotch with the Praising, Suggestive Flirting,

Sypnosis: When the BAU gathers for Rossi’s annual Christmas party, you’re determined to survive the night with your grumpy demeanor firmly intact. Holiday cheer isn’t your thing, but Aaron Hotchner—your stoic, endlessly patient boyfriend—has a way of melting your resolve.

Rossi’s estate was decked out in its holiday best. Twinkling lights illuminated every corner, and the smell of pine, cinnamon, and whatever culinary masterpiece Rossi had whipped up filled the air. The BAU team, scattered across the sprawling mansion, was in various stages of celebrating—laughter and clinking glasses echoing in the space. You, however, sat on the edge of a couch in the living room, a scowl lightly gracing your face as you sipped your drink.

“Didn’t realize Scrooge made the guest list,” Morgan teased, plopping down beside you. He had a full glass himself, but it was in stark contrast to what you were drinking. The spiked eggnog he had was far too sweet for your liking. You kept it simple and…you with the gin on the rocks.

“Ha, ha,” you deadpanned, taking another sip, waving him off, “I’m just here for the food. Don’t get used to this festive spirit.”

“Festive spirit? That’s a stretch,” Emily chimed in from across the room, “Come on, admit it—you’re having fun.”

You rolled your eyes. Sure, the party wasn’t awful, but your natural state of grumpiness was a hard shell to crack. And yet, it seemed like everyone was on a mission tonight to tease you out of it.

Well, almost everyone.

You glanced across the room, and there he was—Aaron Hotchner, in all his stoic, composed glory. He was in conversation with Rossi, holding a glass of something that wasn’t eggnog (because, of course, he also wasn’t an eggnog guy). His suit jacket was off, tie loosened just slightly, and the sight of him caused the smallest crack in your armor.

Hotch glanced in your direction as if sensing your gaze. His lips quirked into a small, knowing smile before he excused himself and made his way toward you. Your heart betrayed you with a flutter, but you shoved the feeling down, keeping your scowl firmly in place.

“Hey, sunshine,” he greeted softly, the corner of his mouth lifting just enough to tease you.

“Funny,” you replied. “Everyone’s a comedian tonight.”

“Hmm.” He perched on the armrest of the couch beside you, close enough for his presence to feel grounding but not overwhelming. “Morgan giving you a hard time?”

“When isn’t he?” you muttered, glancing at the man in question, who was now laughing with Garcia by the fireplace.

Hotch chuckled lightly. “It’s only because he cares.”

“I think he just likes to mess with me.”

“That too.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping just for you. “You know, you could try smiling. It’s Christmas.”

“Why should I? There’s a whole house full of people here doing it for me.”

Hotch’s laugh was quiet but genuine, the kind of sound you swore could melt even your grumpiest moods. You felt his hand brush lightly against yours, where it rested on your knee, a simple, grounding touch.

“I like your grumpiness,” he said, surprising you. “But I like it even more when I can make it go away.”

Before you could respond, you heard Emily call out from somewhere behind you. “Hotch, do something about her face before it ruins the photos.”

You turned to glare at her, but Hotch chuckled again. “Let’s give them what they want, then.”

He stood, placing his drink on a coaster and offering you his hand. You raised a brow. “What are you up to, Aaron?”

“Trust me,” he said, his tone gentle but playful.

With a sigh, you placed your hand in his and let him pull you up. He guided you toward the doorway leading into the dining room, where a sprig of mistletoe hung, subtle but unmistakable.

“Oh, come on,” you groaned, realizing his plan. “Mistletoe? Really?” You knew you sounded like a defiant child, but really?

“You don’t like traditions?” His voice was smooth, his expression amused but patient as ever. Why did he have to give you that look?

“It’s cheesy.”

“Maybe. But I think we owe Rossi for hosting this party.” He stepped closer, his brown eyes warm, his smile soft. “What do you say?”

Before you could roll your eyes again, the team noticed. Garcia was the first to squeal. “Oh my gosh, yes! Kiss her, Hotch!”

“Might as well get it over with!” Morgan called out, grinning ear to ear.

“Stop making it a thing,” you muttered, cheeks heating as you shot daggers at your friends. You could have sworn you heard Rossi whistle.

But then Hotch gently tilted your chin up, bringing your focus back to him. His expression was calm, steady, the kind of look that always reminded you why you fell for him in the first place. The soft brush of his thumb against your chin was electric enough to refocus your brain.

“It doesn’t have to be a thing,” he said quietly, just for you. So nonchalant, like you weren’t the center of attention. “Just us.”

You couldn’t argue with that. With a resigned sigh, you leaned up, and he met you halfway, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was soft and unhurried. The world around you seemed to fade for a moment, your grumpiness melting away like snow under the warmth of the sun.

When you pulled back, the room erupted in applause and cheers, which immediately brought your scowl back.

“Great. Now it’s a spectacle.”

Hotch chuckled, his hand sliding down to rest on the small of your back. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Better.”

The team’s laughter and cheers didn’t let up, and you glared at them over your shoulder. “Don’t you all have something better to do than act like high schoolers?”

“Not when this is more entertaining than TV,” Morgan quipped, raising his glass.

“You’re all insufferable,” you grumbled, though the faintest twitch of a smile betrayed your faux annoyance.

Hotch leaned in closer, his hand steady on your back. “Do you want to stay here and endure this, or should we disappear for a while?”

Your brow quirked. “Disappear? That’s not very supervisory of you.”

“Supervisory me is off duty,” he replied, his lips just barely brushing your ear. “And I have more interesting priorities tonight.”

The flush creeping up your neck betrayed the calm facade you tried to maintain. “Fine. Let’s get out of here before they start taking bets.”

You were hoping he meant to leave. Adios. Irish goodbye. But his plans were more of an intermission of sorts.

The two of you slipped away toward one of the quieter sitting rooms, though not without a few knowing smirks from the team. Rossi’s mansion, as sprawling as it was, offered plenty of places to hide away from the chaos. You found yourselves in a cozy, dimly lit room with a roaring fireplace, the sound of the party fading into the background.

“This better not be where you try to sell me on more Christmas traditions,” you teased, crossing your arms as you turned to face him. Somehow, even this unused room, in Rossi’s mansion, abode for one, was even decked out for the holiday.

Hotch stepped closer, his gaze soft but focused entirely on you. “No traditions this time. Just us.”

You softened at that, the tension you always carried in your shoulders easing a little. “You’re dangerously close to getting me in the holiday spirit.”

“Is that so?” he said, the faintest hint of amusement playing at his lips. “Should I be worried?”

“Maybe.” You stepped closer, resting your hands on his chest. “But don’t let it go to your head.”

His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently along your skin. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

The kiss that followed was deeper this time, more intent behind it, yet still carrying that steady warmth you always found in him. You lost yourself in the feel of him, the stress and grumpiness of the day melting away completely.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against his, and you let out a soft sigh. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

“Am I?” His tone was amused, but his gaze was steady, his hand lingering at your waist.

“Yeah. I can’t even stay mad around you.”

“That’s the goal.” He kissed your forehead, his voice low and affectionate. “I like seeing you happy. Even if it takes a little extra effort.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but the sound of someone clearing their throat made you both turn. Standing in the doorway, Rossi grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” he said, though his tone suggested he was enjoying this far too much. “I just came to see where my guests of honor disappeared to.”

You sighed, giving Hotch a knowing look. “I told you they wouldn’t let us escape.”

Hotch chuckled softly, his hand still at your back. “It was worth a try.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you,” Rossi said with a wave of his hand. “But you might want to come back before Garcia starts circulating conspiracy theories.”

Rossi left with a wink, and you groaned, burying your face in Hotch’s chest. “I swear, next year, we’re skipping this.”

He held you close, caressing your back with reassurance, his voice warm with laughter. “Not a chance. But I told you, I’ll make it up to you afterward.”

You looked up at him, arching a brow. “You’d better.”

Hotch’s hand lingered at the small of your back as the two of you stepped back into the glow of Rossi’s holiday party. The laughter and music were a sharp contrast to the quiet moment you’d just shared, but his steady presence grounded you as always.

Morgan was the first to spot you, a wide grin splitting his face. “There they are! And here I thought you two were off plotting something.”

“Only my escape,” you replied dryly, earning a chorus of laughs from the group.

“Oh, come on, we know you secretly love it here,” Garcia said, her sparkling outfit matching the mischievous glint in her eyes. “Especially when you’ve got him by your side.”

Hotch’s hand tightened slightly at your back, his calm demeanor unshaken by the team’s teasing. “Someone has to keep her from bolting.”

“Someone,” you muttered under your breath, shooting him a side-eye glance. His lips quirked in amusement, his brown eyes soft as they met yours.

The teasing continued as Rossi brought out a tray of desserts, insisting everyone try his homemade tiramisu. As the team gathered around the kitchen island, you felt yourself relax into the chaos, the warmth of their camaraderie chipping away at your usual reluctance.

“You know,” JJ said, nudging your arm with a grin, “you’re almost smiling. Is Hotch rubbing off on you?”

“Absolutely not,” you deadpanned, earning another round of laughter.

Hotch leaned in close, his voice just for you. “Is it so bad to admit you’re enjoying yourself?”

You shot him a playful glare but couldn’t quite fight the small smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe. But if you tell them that, I’ll deny it.”

He chuckled softly, brushing his hand along your arm. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

As the night wore on, the team drifted into various activities—some chatting near the fireplace, others engaged in a spirited game of charades. You found yourself by the Christmas tree, admiring the lights despite yourself. Hotch joined you quietly, his presence as calming as ever.

“You’re staring,” you said, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. You tried to focus back on the various shiny bulbs hanging from each branch but couldn’t help but look back toward him.

“Just admiring the view,” he replied without missing a beat, his gaze fixed on you.

Your cheeks warmed, and you looked away, grumbling, “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you’re still here,” he said, the faintest smirk on his lips.

You rolled your eyes but leaned into him slightly, letting the quiet moment settle around you. For all the teasing, the chaos, and your initial reluctance, you couldn’t deny that being here—with him—made it all worthwhile.

The soft glow of the Christmas tree lights reflected in Hotch’s warm brown eyes as you both stood there, taking in the quiet moment. The sounds of the team’s laughter echoed in the background, distant enough to feel like you were in your own little world.

“You know,” he started, his voice low and thoughtful, “I never thought I’d be doing this again.”

“Doing what?” you asked, glancing up at him. You could feel the shift in his energy. It was something, especially with him, you could pick up on before words even left his mouth. Your usual demeanor softened, recognizing this.

He gestured subtly toward the tree, the party, the warmth of the night. “Celebrating. Finding this... peace. With someone I care about.”

The sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten. Hotch wasn’t one to overshare or wear his emotions openly, so moments like these carried weight. You hesitated, unsure how to respond, the vulnerability in his words catching you off guard.

“Maybe I didn’t mind it as much as I let on,” you admitted quietly, your voice softer than usual, almost reluctant. The confession hung in the air for a beat before you quickly added, “But don’t get too sentimental on me. I have a reputation to uphold.”

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, his gaze flicking toward you briefly before returning to the road. “Of course. Wouldn’t want anyone thinking you’ve gone soft.”

As the evening wound down, the energy in Rossi’s mansion began to settle. The team had dispersed into smaller groups—Emily and Garcia were deep in a heated debate over whether "Die Hard" was a Christmas movie, with JJ chiming in occasionally, Morgan was helping Rossi clean up, and Reid had somehow been roped into organizing the board games Rossi insisted on showcasing earlier. You stood near the door, watching it all unfold with a mix of amusement and relief. The night had been more tolerable than expected, but you were ready to call it.

Hotch appeared at your side, his coat draped over his arm. “Ready to head out?”

You sighed, giving the room one last glance. The goodbyes had just about done you in. You tried to hide a comment about likely being called into seeing all of these people before the next few days were over but held back.

“More than ready. Let’s go before Rossi tries to guilt me into taking leftovers.”

Hotch’s lips curved into the faintest smile, and he helped you into your coat, his hands lingering just a second longer than necessary.

Once outside, the crisp winter air hit your face, a refreshing contrast to the cozy warmth of Rossi’s house. The driveway was lined with cars, their frosted windshields glittering under the soft glow of the outdoor lights. Hotch walked you to his car, opening the passenger door for you as always.

The drive back to your shared apartment was quiet, the sound of Christmas music on the radio filling the silence. You stared out the window at the snow-dusted streets, watching as the lights from decorated houses passed by in a blur.

The soft hum of the car and the muted glow of passing streetlights filled the comfortable silence between you. Hotch glanced your way again, a flicker of amusement in his gaze as his fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel.

“You were good tonight,” he said again, his voice carrying a warm, teasing edge that made you glance at him with narrowed eyes.

“Good?” you repeated, raising a brow. “Are you about to give me a gold star?”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t break. “If I thought it’d keep you in line, I’d consider it. But we both know you respond to other things.”

Your cheeks burned at the weight of his words, the way his tone wrapped around you. Your stomach flipped at the way his voice dipped just enough to send a pleasant shiver down your spine. You masked it with a roll of your eyes, your tone teasing as you replied, “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he countered smoothly, his eyes flicking toward you again, steady and unshakable.

Your mouth twitched into a small, reluctant smile as you turned back to the window. “Don’t get used to it. I’m not exactly lining up for the Most Festive award anytime soon.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” he said, his voice softer now. “But you showed up, you played nice, and you made it through without biting anyone’s head off. Maybe even a smile or two. That’s progress.”

You scoffed lightly, though his words sent a subtle warmth through your chest. “If you think that’s progress, your standards are lower than I thought.”

His smirk deepened, and he let the silence stretch for a moment before he replied, “I think you know my standards are anything but low. Especially when it comes to you.”

Your cheeks warmed at the weight of his words, but you kept your tone light. “You’re lucky I even went. I could’ve stayed home.”

“You could have,” he agreed easily, his voice steady. “But you didn’t. And I’m glad you didn’t.”

The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard for a moment, and you glanced at him, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the passing streetlights. His presence was so steady, so calm, it made your usual defenses falter. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

He gave a small nod, keeping his eyes on the road. “I do. You didn’t have to go, but you did. For me.” The corner of his mouth tugged upward again, but this time, his gaze stayed on the road. “You know, for someone who’s so resistant to the holidays, you play along pretty well when you want to.”

You raised a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he said, glancing at you now with that steady, unreadable expression, “that I see right through you.”

Your stomach flipped at the way his voice dropped, warm and firm. “Oh, do you now?”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation, his tone laced with challenge. “And for the record, you did better than good tonight. You were perfect.”

The car pulled into the driveway of your shared apartment, and the engine’s hum faded as he shut it off. You turned to face him, your heart beating just a little faster under his gaze. “Perfect, huh? That’s a bold claim.”

“It is,” he said, his hand resting lightly on the gearshift as he leaned just slightly toward you. “But I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

You stared at him for a moment, caught between wanting to roll your eyes and wanting to melt under the intensity of his gaze. “Fine. But if you’re so impressed with me, you’d better make it worth my while.”

His lips curved into that rare, private smile he reserved just for you. “Oh, I plan to.”

The warmth in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you huffed, reaching for the door handle to hide your reaction. “You’d better, Hotchner.”

He chuckled softly, stepping out of the car and rounding to your side to open your door—always the gentleman, no matter how much it flustered you. As you stepped out, his hand found its way to the small of your back, guiding you toward the door with that quiet, steady presence that always left you feeling just a little off balance.

By the time you reached your apartment, you were practically buzzing with anticipation—not just for whatever promises lay unspoken between you, but for the way he always seemed to know how to unravel your defenses with nothing more than a look and a touch.

And tonight, you were more than ready to let him.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

302 notes · View notes

revelboo · 29 days ago

Note

Nobody:

Nobody at all:

Me even before Thanksgiving ends: 🎁🎄🎁🎄🤶☃️☃️☃️🎄🎄❄️🌨

Anyway, I hope you had a MARVELOUS Thanksgiving with friends and family, making memories that last!🦃🍁

I wonder how TFE Megs and his friend are doing…..

Oh, no, no! 😂 It’s supposed to snow this weekend and I just want to run away to Orlando, but it’s a ten hour drive. There’s no escape

Give Up/ Give In Pt 10

TF Earthspark Megatron x Reader

• Back against the wall, his head falls forward as he fights recharge just to keep an eye on the small form curled up on the air mattress beside him. Occasionally reaching out to ghost his servos over you, not touching but flirting with it. Knows you’re safe here and that nothing would happen to you if he did rest. But he just can’t make himself relax enough, because he keeps thinking about how you look to him. Throughout the afternoon and into the night, you’d kept turning to find him even as you spoke with the Terrans or Bumblebee. Like you needed to reassure yourself that he hadn’t left you. That he’s still there.

• And he’s not sure what to make of it. His followers had looked to him for direction, but never like this. Like he’s needed, like you’re lost without him. Even before the Decepticon ranks began to splinter, they had needed him as a catalyst, a figurehead. Nothing more. Not like you do. Servos making another slow pass over you, he freezes when you roll and the back of your hand slides against him. Curling tighter into a ball with a little sound, that’s almost pain. A nightmare? Those he understands, and he frowns as you kick out a leg nearly kicking your blankets off. Struggling in the grip of whatever’s got its claws in you. Remembering the battle? Guilt makes him reach for you as you lash out with a little hand.

• The nightmare and reality blend together in a confusing blur as servos wrap around you and lift you. And you struggle against that grip, Megatron had saved you, but in your nightmares, those servos grip you too tightly, breaking you as those red optics glow with cold, indifferent fire. “Breathe, little one.” That deep voice. Part of the dream or reality? Waking up with a bone deep shudder, you’re aware that he’s holding you cradled against him. That he’s stroking along your spine with a servo and staring down at you in worry when you look up. “You’re alright.”

• Lying in his palm, you stare up at him. Your heart beating so fast against his servos as he carefully reaches to nudge your hair from your face. Not that surprised when you press your face into the crook of his servos to hide your face from him. “I’m okay,” you mumble against him, but he doesn’t believe it. There’d been fear in your eyes when you’d woken, you must be having nightmares about the battle. Dreaming Starscream had you or that your car had been crushed? He doesn’t know, and isn’t sure how to do this. How to get you to open up, when he’s so used to bottling everything up himself, burying it deep. Letting his head fall back, his optics shutter. You need someone like Bumblebee, someone who knows how to help you. He knows it, but it doesn’t sit right with him when you’re his to tend to.

• Pressing yourself against his servos, you slowly relax as the nightmare fades. Because no matter what he did in the past, these hands are so gentle with you. He worries over you, like now as his servos stroke over you. Trying to soothe you even if he’s not sure how, gentle touches that make it easier to breathe. The fear washing out of you until you can turn your head and peek up at him again. His expression uncertain as he watches you. “Thank you.”

#transformers x reader #earthspark megatron #megatron x reader

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kiss-me-muchoo · 7 days ago

Text

𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ you find a thong on Joel’s backpack and you don’t know what to think, turning things awkward just before the holidays.

warnings_corny Christmas pick up lines, AGE GAP (20s/50s) but not specified, smidge of angst (reader’s fault) , fluff, chill mom!reader, pervy hubby! Joel, Christmas shit and a silly argument. NO PROOFREAD YET SORRY

notes_ fallacy family having their first Christmas together omg, it’s almost two years since I started the series and yet here we are, brb I’ll go cry.

• Fallacy series m.list (recommended to read)

♫ ♪ Pedro playlist

✰ Index (+ fics here)

⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆ ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆ ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆

Celebrating the holidays in the apocalypse was not easy. In fact, the world had forgotten about holidays. For twenty years, days like Christmas or New Year’s Eve had no longer meaning.

But not in Jackson. Right after thanksgiving, the town would start preparing for the lovely event. According to Maria, children received a little present and a big dinner was made. In the previous weeks, the town dressed up with ornaments, mistletoe everywhere and the smell of ginger and mint was all around. Almost like outside the world hadn’t change. But for you and your family, that came from a lot of suffering, you would not allow them to complain.

You had picked up your decoration’s box. One was given to each house of Jackson, to add more personal decorations. However, you picked up yours a little late, since it was your first Christmas in town.

You finished teaching early, giving you time to arrive home, meet your daughter and decorate the house with Ellie.

Cerise was about to turn three months old, she was growing, getting curly hair like her father, but she remained tiny, fussy and adamant. She kept doing the famous newborn scrunch and Joel often made fun of her farts, making you roll your eyes and criticize him for making fun of his daughter.

“Ellie, you’re home?” You asked taking off your boots and coat, placing your bag in the entrance. “Yup, Maria left like ten minutes ago”

Ellie appeared carrying Cerise, who was sleeping. The teenager handed you the baby and you smiled at her.

“Thanks. Hey, I got the decoration for the house, Wanna help me?” Ellie was not excited for Christmas but you could tell she loved being around you and Cerise.

“Sure”

“But-!” Then she rolled her eyes. “You must show me your costume for the charity”

“Oh f- you, y/n” you started laughing, trying to remain calm to not disturb Cerise “I look like shit in it!”

“Please!”

It was past midday when you were done making dinner. A warm soup made the whole to smell like winter and tranquility. Cerise had taken a bath, even Ellie was already in pajamas. It was then, while cleaning the kitchen, that you found Joel’s lunchbox in the little shelves you had beside the refrigerator.

“Silly man” you mumbled to yourself, grabbing the lunchbox.

In the living room, Ellie was reading a comic while Cerise was in her little baby gym.

“I’m dropping this to Joel. Mind if you stay here with Cerise?” The girls shrugs, eyes never leaving her comic. “Yeah, go on”

“Thanks, Ellie. I’ll be quick”

…

That day, Joel was working to build a new layer for the gates that protected Jackson. The team started the new layer before summer ended, even before Cerise was born. And now, near Christmas, it was almost done.

At the sight of your old man, you smiled. He went back to his short hair, just like when you met him in Boston. His belly was gone and his back pain diminished. Joel was in his best form, shape and condition.

“Hey, Texas!” You called him, making some of his buddies to look as well.

At the sight of you, the youngest started doing silly things to make your husband uncomfortable but truth is, Joel was only smiling at the sight of you. But soon turned worried.

“Whatcha doin’ here?” he asks, taking off his thick gloves, offering you a playful smile. “Are you alright? Cerise and Ellie?”

“We’re fine, dear. You just forgot your lunch…”

You brought him a sandwich and cranberry juice, it’s was cold and since your old man couldn’t get up early because he was so warm under the blankets with you, he missed his lunch.

“I thought- never mind. Thanks, baby”

Joel sighed, relieved. He grabbed the lunchbox and looked at you so lovingly, that it made you chuckle.

“What now, Texas?” You ask rolling your eyes, crossing your arms.

“God, I just want to get home, shower a you to give me a blowjob”

“A snowjob!” He glares at you with disdain and rolls his eyes before chuckling, catching the Christmas reference.

“Good lord, shut up” he had grown used to the age gap, but sometimes he remembered how full of life you were compared to him.“C’mere, baby”

He kissed you as usual because nobody was around. He would never hide his feelings for you again, but he remained reserved and preferred to be private when it came to you. Either way, everyone in Jackson knew he married you and had a baby together.

Cerise was a famous baby after all.

“There’s soup and flourless biscuits for dinner. I’m almost done with the Christmas decorations. I’m just saving the tree because I want to do it with you” Joel smiled, something you genuinely loved.

Ever since you gave birth, Joel had changed drastically, being open towards you and very understanding. Things had never felt so good.

“I’ll be at home before the sunset” you nod at him, standing on your tip toes, which he immediately understands and leans over to give you a big kiss. You felt relived and happy. Lucky you to stick along a grumpy unstable senior that turned out the most humble and loving husband.

“Don’t be late, Texas” he rolls his eyes to then kiss you again. “I won’t, baby”

As you walk away, you hear some chattering from Joel’s workmates, probably making fun of him for being a sweetheart towards you. And you don’t miss the female laughter calling him.

There is no reason to mistrust. Joel would never. The last time you both had a similar argument was when Freya, the town’s nurse, actively tried to make some moves on your already husband.

Either way, there are some days where you feel that too much positivity has a price. Like it’s not normal for you to be completely happy and in peace. Perhaps it’s the years of suffering and misery that remain haunting you. Making you believe that Joel would one day walk out, towards complete freedom like he once wanted.

…

Well, Joel was late indeed. You got mad and you started eating with Cerise and Ellie. You placed a plate with a big portion of food for Joel and then you sent your kids to sleep. As you were cleaning the dishes, you didn’t think too much about Joel being absent. Anything could happen at work, your take was that they had finished the new layer and decided to take longer than needed just to be done.

Whatever, you kept cleaning the dishes and didn’t hear your husband was entering the warm house.

“I’m sorry I missed the dinner. We finished the layer…”

Bingo.

“That’s okay, honey” you simply say without looking at him. “I thought of it…”

“Let me eat and then we can decorate the tree” Joel says, trying to make it up for his absence, standing behind you and softly caressing your shoulders.

“Just eat, Joel. You haven’t eaten anything after I dropped your lunch…” your hands finish cleaning the dishes, you dry up and finally face your man. “You sure? I’m up for the Christmas tree…”

“No, I’m tired. Let’s go get warm in the bed…” he nods, smiling at the sight of his wonderful wife. The same woman he met years ago, yet, so different.

“Hmm, then I’m up for a holly jolly

“Yeah? stuff my stocking with your big North Pole, Joel?” he bursted in laughter, trying to be quiet but miserably failed, making you start giggling as well. “Joel, shut up!”

“Well, baby… You’re bein’ a flirt” rolling your eyes, you had to go straight to hug him.

“Get my backpack, please…” you nod at him, approaching the entrance of the house, where Joel’s backpack was discharged in the floor.

You bend over to grab it and the soft sound of a box of band-aids falling makes you sigh.

“Close the fucking backpack, Joel” you try to be quiet while he distantly says sorry. And then you spot a sparkly red ribbon tangled in a zipper. When you pull it out, you realize it’s not a ribbon.

It’s a thong. And lurking from the inside, there an egg nog powder mix.

You have so many questions. You could’ve laughed. But you didn’t. Instead, your head starts questioning why he had a thong on his backpack.

“What the fuck, Joel?” You ask when he arrives at your side. “You have a whole festive fucking pack in your backpack?”

“Darlin’, Are you bein’ serious now?” He asks tiredly, which makes you sigh. “What? Do you think this is not for you and belongs to somebody else?”

“I don’t know!” You spit out frustrated, crossing your arms and realizing you had snapped. “I’m sorry, Joel. I just don’t know how to feel about it…”

You knew it was stupid getting mad over something so silly and immature. It could’ve been a joke from a mate, perhaps Joel actually got it for you. But why slip it like that?

That night you leave your husband all alone in the darkness of the living room wondering what he did wrong.

He stares at the empty Christmas tree and sighs, rubbing his eyes.

…

The next morning, it was Christmas Eve.

Joel got up only to find out kids had school. It was a short day and basically an excuse to gather all the kids and avoid interruptions for any final details to work on. Joel did not have any problem with having Cerise the whole morning. In fact, it made him slightly forgetful about the argument with you last night.

Ellie was gone, Joel heard her cursing as she was leaving, saying how shitty she looked with her elf costume.

Cerise and Joel had a good morning together. He made breakfast for her, then he bather her to avoid getting her later with lower temperatures. Then he paid Tommy a little visit to ask for advice and finally felt confident to face you and ask questions.

He felt hurt by your reaction and was eager to understand why you took things in such way.

He pushed the stroller carrying a sleepy Cerise through the streets of Jackson. Everyone seemed ready for the holidays, happy families everywhere. It made Joel to feel a bigger urge to run towards the little school. There was no point in having a silly fight during a special night.

So when he arrived with Cerise at the school, children were walking out, everyone holding a handcrafted ornament, others had snowflakes, others tried to do paper ginger-man cookies. It made Joel to think how would Cerise be in a couple of years while attending school.

When he entered the old building, he saw that there only were four classrooms. Only one was open. And as Joel pushed the stroller through the hall, he was able to see that the open door was decorated with little stars that had the name of some students. In the center, a baby pink paper that said “Mrs. Miller” and it made Joel’s heart to melt.

Everyone knew that kids loved you. The youngest always said hi or even hugged you, asking if they could see Cerise.

When he entered the room, it was empty, only you sitting in your desk. When you looked up to see, you quickly had to stand up upon seeing your husband and baby.

“Is Cerise okay?” You ask worriedly. “She’s fine, y/n. I just needed to pass by”

You nod, already understanding what he meant. You stare at his red sweater, the color resulting foreign on him, yet, welcoming.

“It was silly and-“ you try to start saying but Joel shushes you. “I’m the one talking darlin’…”

“Earlier in the morning, Tommy and I went to the mall” you only can tap your index finger against your desk, starting to feel completely embarrassed. “We passed by the store and thought it would be silly and fun to grab a pair of festive underwear along the eggnog. I also grabbed a pacifier for Cerise….”

“Now what the fuck? I completely overreacted” you admit avoiding his gaze.

“Do you really think I could possibly cheat on you?” he asks, sounding very hurt, which made your twist in remorse. “Don’t you think we’ve suffered enough to just fuck up everything for nothing?”

Your eyes water and you have to look down, ashamed.

“God, I’m so sorry, Joel. I know it was stupid…” He sighs, crossing his arms, also looking away, to the window of the little classroom. “I normally feel so confident about us and our life here. But occasionally my mind goes back to the beginning and it terrifies me that someday you’ll get tired of everything and just be free. But alone…”

Joel eyed you as you were speaking, and it broke him. Sometimes he forgets you also went through traumatic experiences along the way. You love him unconditionally, yes. But that doesn’t mean sometimes those traumas will not try to arise. And it’s okay to have doubts, the world was broken.

But Joel would give his life to never see you broken as well.

He pulled you closer, holding you tightly. His chin finding a home at the top of your head. And it made you feel safe. Like you weren’t insane for causing nonsensical arguments.

“I’m sorry” you repeat and he shushes you softly. “Having doubts is valid. But I can promise you, my darlin’… that I would do everything again if I had know since the beginning that my reward was you. And I will never get tired of it…”

“Intrusive thoughts aside, everything is perfect. I will let you know whenever I’m feeling odd and hopefully we’ll talk” he nodded, making you feel even more safe. “Of course, baby”

“And I love you, Joel. Like you have no idea” you hear him chuckling, then kissing your hair. “Oh, I think I do. I think we both know we’re down bad for each other”

“Even Cerise knows it. She stares back and forth between us whenever we start talking and she’s fully awake” at the comment, Joel chuckled, looking aside where he left the stroller, noticing there was movement inside.

“I think she’s already doing it” you say smiling.

Joel uncovered the stroller and indeed, Cerise was fully awake, her chocolate eyes scanning the place before landing on her parents. And upon looking at you and Joel, she started cooing.

“Aww, my baby, come here” it would never be not amusing for Joel to finally seeing you as a mother. As you peppered Cerise’s face with wet kisses all over, she seemed to be laughing. The moment the three of you started sharing were foreign, a little over a year ago, everything was so different. Joel was unable to admit that he loved you, you were extremely insecure, Ellie was a stranger. You had zero hopes of a family.

The odds were in your favor. Very much.

“I think she’s growing your nose” Joel said, softly pinching one of the baby’s cheeks. Cerise was in heavy, sandwiched between the warmth of her parents, in a red onesie that had a reindeer in the center and stars in her tiny foots.

“Well I think she’s growing your hair. Messy and curly…” Joel smirked and then kissed you.

“Let’s go home. I want to try that eggnog mix even if it kills us”

“I don’t think syrups and fake powder will kill us, y/n” he took your hand and lead the way out of the school.

…

It was very cold when you got out of the shower. The smell of turkey and butter was filtering through the small gap of your open window. At the dinning hall people were slowly gathering to share a meal and celebrate the night prior to Christmas. And as per usual, you were slightly late.

You had a brown dress that you carried since Boston’s QZ. You had never worn it and you had a second pair of boots reserved for special occasions, which were waiting for you at the foot of the bed along your coat and some thick black thighs. It wasn’t elegant, just classic. An outfit that even in the apocalypse seemed decent or fair.

“Cerise is ready…” Joel says entering the room. His smile grew at the sigh of you, which made you blush and shyly look away.

“No, don’t look away, darlin’. You look like a little doll” he hurried to give you a little spin and kiss your cheeks.

“Calm down, Texas” he steadies his hands around your hips, smiling again “Now, gimme that nasty thong before I change my mind”

“What?” Joel completely forgot about the thing. But soon he went to the basket of clean clothes and handed it to you.

The asshole had washed the thong.

Under the lamp of the room, you were able to appreciate the details of the thong. It was bright red, with some lace details in the crotch, shiny beaded sequins and a fine embroidery.

You slipped into the fabric, hunching the dress around your stomach. Joel let out a little gasp after finally seeing you with the lingerie.

“Merry fucking Christmas” you had to laugh loudly after seeing him almost poking out his tongue, then, you are pulling down the dress and sitting on the bed to put on the thighs.

“That’s lewd, Joel”

“Shut up. I’m getting what I deserve after dinner”

“Your first present to unwrap” you say rolling your eyes.

It is then when you look at Ellie passing by the door and after hearing you burst out laughing, she huffed, standing on the doorway.

“Can you please stop?” The girls asks, but it’s very funny to see her with the elf costume and silly hat.

“Why I was forced to do this?”

“Because you are a pain in the ass for Tommy and Maria” she rolls her eyes.

“Okay, it’s getting late. Let’s go, everyone” Joel leads the way downstairs, where he picks up Cerise from her baby gym and wraps her in blankets before getting her into the stroller.

When he approaches you to help you put on your coat, you can’t stop smiling at the sight of him.

And he notices it, offering back another smile.

Ellie walks out with Cerise in the stroller and turns back to ask who was the keys, but rolls her eyes after seeing you two lost in each other’s eyes.

“HEY!” Both of you snap out of the moment and turn to look at Ellie. “Yeah, yeah, we all know both of you are so in love. But who has the keys?”

“Joel” you reveal, chuckling at the girl’s words and moving away.

Joel locks the door and walks out to the street. He follows closely bu he prefers to savor the moment of you and Ellie making Cerise to babble and coo from inside the stroller. With all the Christmas decoration and the snow falling, Joel wants nothing but a camera to capture the moment. But his old ass would always remember that type of moments.

__________

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller #pedro pascal smut

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alana-reid-2005 · 5 months ago

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spencer reid x reader ౨ৎ you’ve been reassigned indefinitely to the bau’s nyc office; spencer helps you pack for the move

p.s. did i write this to cope with the fact that i’m moving 30 minutes away from home for college? you know me too well.

Five hours isn’t that long of a drive. If you could somehow convince Erin Strauss to let you borrow the BAU’s plane, the journey would be cut to a mere hour and a half. You don’t know if this move will be permanent, but you try to forget about that for now and focus on packing. You stuff your winter coat into your already full suitcase. You’re about ready to sit on top of your suitcase to attempt to close it. October’s just around the corner, and New York gets chilly with a capital “C,” even more so than Quantico.

It’ll be your first Halloween away from Spencer in seven years, you think morosely. Spencer knows how to celebrate the spooky season. Halloween is his Christmas as evidenced by the multiple excursions to the local pumpkin patch and trips to various haunted houses he takes you on each year. And that’s not to mention how he invites you over on the thirty-first to witness him spooking the kids in his apartment building with his various monster or ghoul costumes before treating them to king size candy bars.

You’re gonna miss that more than you’d like to admit.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as Spencer stumbles in, carrying a box full of knick knacks he’s making you choose from after reasoning with you that, “Seasonal depression is very real, and making your house a home is one small way to remedy the feelings of loneliness.”

He bumps his hip hard into your closet doorknob on his way over to you but barely seems to register it.

“Careful hon-“

“Hey, did you know that the subway system is actually way better than people make it out to be?” He sets down the box with a little huff before continuing, his hands immediately going up to make gestures as he speaks. “According to a New York Times analysis I saw this morning, there’s only about one violent crime per one million rides. And that rate is only going down as ridership increases, so I think it’s your safest bet for getting around the city, all things considered.”

You smile up at him. Here’s another thing you’re gonna miss. You’d drop all your life’s responsibilities if it meant you could hear him explain the world to you all day long.

He kneels beside you where you’re bent over your suitcase. “Anyway, I brought you some holiday decor! Pick as many as you can fit in your luggage. I’ll mail you the rest.”

He’s not quite smiling, but you can sense the joy radiating from him like steam from a thermal geyser.

“It’s barely September, Spence.” You try not to let your voice break. You just can’t muster his level of enthusiasm when you know you’ll be leaving him soon. Too soon.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He must’ve noticed you were off earlier today. Mercifully, he hadn’t mentioned it sooner, or you would’ve been bawling like a baby at eight in the morning. More than often, you feel this is the curse of your chosen profession: to always know how you and those around you feel but never how to help them or yourself.

“Please don’t cry, angel.” His arms are around you in an instant, easing your chin to his shoulder. He slides his hands down to rub your back, applying just the right amount of pressure to coax your body to melt into his.

“It’s gonna be okay, I promise.” He tilts back, arms tightening around your mid back until you’re almost in his lap. Physical touch is by far not on the top of his list of love languages, but he needs you to know how much he’s gonna miss you.

“I’m sorry,” you sob.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he murmurs, stroking your hair gently. “I’m driving up to see you every weekend. And you’re flying in for Thanksgiving. I think Garcia said she’d host this year.”

“Aw, Penelope always does the best job,” you sniffle, unable to help the grin that breaks over your face.

Spencer pulls back, beaming just as bright. Once your expression softens, he pulls you in for a kiss, painfully saccharine in its tenderness.

You’re gonna miss his coffee breath most of all.

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year ago

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i had a filthy dream last night that inspired this, enjoy

smut, 18+ only; eddie x you steve x you

you were nestled in eddie’s lap, neck full of hickeys and slicked with spit, his curls tickling the tops of your breasts, big hands on the fat of your ass.

steve was behind you, nibbling on skin, his broad nose rubbing against your hair line behind your ear, whispering nothing but filth.

“you ready for him sweet girl?” eddie purred into your neck, locking eyes with steve.

—

it was your first thanksgiving as a couple with eddie, and when the phone rang with a heartbroken steve on the other end, there was no way you could have imagined it would end up like this.

but you graciously opened up your home for the night for steve, filling wine glasses to the brim and making yourself scarce so your bf and his bestfriend could talk out steve’s love life woes.

steve had always been a flirt towards you, a little too friendly kisses on the cheek in greeting that soon led to linger hugs, him pressing your body flush to his.

eddie didn’t mind, almost always encouraging it, always showing you off, look at my girl stevie she’s fucking gorgeous isn’t she? steve would lick his lips with a haunted expression on his face before he excused himself from the room.

after a few bottles of wine and a heart to heart between the two guys, steve sat wide legged on the couch, eyes glazed over in a hooded drunk expression, watching your every move.

after checking on the turkey, and wiping your hands off on the emerald apron wrapped around your waist, steve patted the couch cushion next to him, beckoning you to come and sit down.

he sighs, shifting further into the couch and you pat his leg eyes looking up to him in remorse. nancy was your friend too, and you couldn’t believe she would do that to him.

“you can stay with us as long as you need, you’re always welcome here steve.” eyes brimming with tears as he smiles tiredly down at you, the knit cables on his brown sweater matching his eyes.

he smiles warmly, and looks down to the way your skirt has ridden up on your thighs, the garter set you wore for eddie now on display for anyone to see, and you sheepishly start to yank your skirt down before steve’s warm hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you.

your heart is in your throat and you absentmindedly lick your lips, looking up at steve through your lashes.

he dips closer to you, nose brushing your own.

“you don’t have to hide those pretty thighs from me, honey.”

your stomach feels like it’s going to bottom out. steve was handsome in a boy next door type of way, you drunkenly admitted that to eddie once and he never let you forget it, not in a mean way, but in a way that made you think given the opportunity, steve could be your third.

but that would never happen. because steve was with nancy. besides the shameless flirting was just playful, harmless. it meant nothing.

his fingers move up your thigh, fingering the lace of the black set on your legs, letting them go with a snap.

“y’know…eddie’s cool with this if you are.”

suddenly your mouth was dry and your pussy was wet.

eddie turned around the corner from the kitchen, a pickle crunched loud between his teeth and he looks at you, a devil smirk on his lips.

“this what you want sweet girl? i think our poor guest deserves some company, don’t you?” another pickle snaps between his teeth, his smile broadens when your thighs push together in a clench.

“think we got our answer munson.”

steve’s nose brushes the underside of your chin, kissing your neck in sweet sweeps of his lips, a tickle of his tongue. his hands grab your hip, pulling you towards him.

it was all moans and smacks of lips against hot flesh, your shirt came off in a flash and your fingers were wrapped in steve’s hair, his lips pressed to yours bruisingly sweet.

eddie stood and watched, coaching steve on the way you liked to be kissed, the right position to get you off, and then he joined in.

it was too much, the familiar touch if eddie and the new sting of steve.

“listen big boy, her pussy is mine, but that ass is all yours.” eddie instructed, having switched positions with steve so you were now straddling his hips.

you moaned into his mouth, barely able to keep yourself still when you heard the zip of steve’s pants coming undone, you had ridden his lap for almost a half hour, your pussy was clenched around his clothed cock and you knew it was big, big as thick as eddie’s but longer.

eddie��s hands spread your ass cheeks wide, and steve spit on your waiting hole.

“i’ll go slow honey, okay?” he murmured kissing your temple.

“she can handle it, this nasty girl loves her ass stuffed, don’t you baby?” eddie grunts, grinding you down into his lap, trying to pull another orgasm for you before steve has is way with you.

the mushroom top of steve’s cock presses heavy on your hole and you’re mewling for him, gasping when he pushes in further, eddie’s hands holding you open and steady for steve’s cock.

“so fuckin’ tight,” steve groans, “goddamn.”

it takes a few mins for you to adjust to his length, but when you finally do, eddie shoves his own cock into your slippery slick and your cock drunk on them both, full to the hilt, nothing but breathy moans and sweat slicked bodies sliding together between the three of you.

they move in tandem, taking it slow at first and then faster, you’re whimpering and moaning, clit red and banded from eddie’s and your fingers. steve’s bite marks on your shoulder.

when they come eddie yells out, and steve practically tears bites a hole through his lip, telling you how you’re so fucking good for them.

when you wake you’re in your own bed, eddie holding you, your forehead pressed into his chest, steve’s lips snug against your back.

it was the happiest thanksgiving you’ve ever had. burnt turkey and all.

s/o to lexapro for the wildest dreams on the planet

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #steve x you #steve harrington smut #throuple #steddie #stevie x you #steve harrington fanfic

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fuqnia · 20 days ago

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Golden Glow and Quiet Truths

kyle broflovski x reader insert

(❁´◡`❁) | [A/N] hii, this is my second oneshot that's apart of my ficmas! this is also on ao3. ❤️❄️🎄

(❁´◡`❁) | Warning(s) : none

(❁´◡`❁) | Synopsis : At Kyle’s Hanukkah celebration, [y/n] learns about his traditions and shares a quiet, heartfelt moment under the warm glow of the menorah.

The Broflovski house was buzzing with warmth and life, a stark contrast to the frigid snowdrifts piling up outside. Inside, the menorah’s golden light flickered on the table, casting soft, wavering patterns on the walls. Laughter and conversation filled the air, Sheila’s booming voice rising over the din as she directed traffic between the kitchen and living room. The scent of frying latkes mixed with the tangy sweetness of applesauce and the faint aroma of pine from the small Christmas tree Sheila insisted on keeping for “their Christian friends.”

You hovered near the doorway, a drink in your hand, unsure where to plant yourself in the chaos. Kyle had been insistent about inviting you to his family’s Hanukkah party. His words—half invitation, half plea—still echoed in your mind: “It’s no big deal, really. My family would love to have you there. I’d love to have you there.” You couldn’t say no. Not to that earnest look in his green eyes, not to the nervous way he fidgeted with his sleeves when he asked.

Now you were here, a little overwhelmed but oddly at peace, watching the scene unfold. Ike was at the table, enthusiastically explaining dreidel rules to a group of adults who didn’t stand a chance against his enthusiasm. Kyle’s dad, Gerald, was cracking a joke in the corner, earning polite chuckles. And there was Kyle himself, standing by the menorah, his green ushanka askew as he helped his mom arrange candles for the blessing. He caught your eye for a moment, offering a small smile that made your stomach flip, before turning back to his task.

“You okay?” came a voice beside you.

Kyle had appeared at your side, so close you could feel the warmth radiating off him. His hair was slightly mussed from the hat, and the glow of the menorah danced in his eyes.

“Yeah,” you said with a faint smile. “It’s really nice. Your family knows how to throw a party.”

Kyle chuckled, glancing at the crowded room. “My mom loves an excuse to go all out. Hanukkah, Thanksgiving, Arbor Day—you name it.”

You laughed softly, and his expression softened as he watched you. “I’m glad you came,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

“I’m glad you invited me,” you replied. “It’s… warm. Feels like a real home.”

Kyle looked like he wanted to say something more, but instead, he gestured toward the table where Ike was still commanding his dreidel game. “Want to play? I could teach you. Ike’s ruthless, though, so fair warning.”

“Sure,” you said, following him to the table.

The Broflovski dining table was a whirlwind of festive energy—plates of latkes and brisket, half-empty glasses of sparkling cider, and a small pile of chocolate gelt coins stacked neatly in the center. But as the party hummed around you, you found yourself seated across from Kyle, the rest of the room fading into background noise.

“Alright,” Kyle said, setting a small wooden dreidel in the middle of the table with a faint clink. “You said you’ve never played before?”

“Never,” you admitted with a sheepish grin, leaning forward to inspect the dreidel. The menorah candles flickered nearby, casting a warm glow over the two of you. “So, be gentle. I don’t want to embarrass myself.”

Kyle chuckled, the sound warm and soft. “Don’t worry. I’ll walk you through it. It’s pretty simple, I promise.”

He picked up the dreidel and turned it slowly between his fingers, the Hebrew letters catching the light. “This is the dreidel,” he explained. “Each side has a letter: Nun, Gimel, Hei, and Shin. They stand for ‘A great miracle happened there.’ It’s kind of a reminder of the Hanukkah story.”

You nodded, your gaze flickering between the dreidel and his face. He looked so at ease, his green eyes bright as he spoke, and you couldn’t help but feel a warmth that had nothing to do with the candles.

“So,” he continued, placing the dreidel back on the table. “The goal is to spin it, and whichever side it lands on determines what you do. Nun means nothing happens. Gimel means you take the whole pot. Hei means you take half, and Shin means you add a coin to the pot.”

“Got it,” you said, picking up one of the shiny chocolate coins from the pile. “And we’re playing with these?”

“Yep.” He pushed a small handful of gelt toward you, his fingers brushing yours briefly. The touch sent a jolt up your arm, and you glanced at him, catching the faintest hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks. “Alright, you go first.”

You picked up the dreidel, gripping it awkwardly. Kyle watched with an amused smile as you gave it a spin. It wobbled uncertainly before clattering to a stop on Shin.

Kyle winced dramatically, his hand flying to his chest. “Oof. Tough start. Add one to the pot.”

You rolled your eyes playfully as you tossed a coin into the center. “Great. Off to a stellar beginning.”

“Hey, it’s all about the technique,” Kyle teased, picking up the dreidel with practiced ease. His fingers moved deftly, giving it a smooth spin that sent it twirling across the table. It landed on Gimel, and he smirked as he scooped up the entire pot.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you groaned, throwing your hands up. “You’re a professional. I didn’t stand a chance.”

“Not my fault I’m naturally gifted,” he said, tossing a coin in the air and catching it with a grin. “Alright, your turn. Let’s see if you’ve learned anything.”

You narrowed your eyes, picking up the dreidel again. “Oh, I’ll show you.”

As you leaned forward to spin it, Kyle reached out to adjust your grip. “Wait, like this,” he said, his hand brushing over yours to position the dreidel. His touch was warm, steady, and lingered just a second longer than necessary. Your eyes met, and the noise of the room seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in the soft glow of the menorah candles.

“Got it?” Kyle asked, his voice quieter now.

“Yeah,” you murmured, your heart beating faster as you gave the dreidel a spin. It twirled across the table, wobbling slightly before landing on Hei.

Kyle grinned. “Half the pot. Not bad.”

“Finally,” you said, scooping up your share with a triumphant smile. “I’m catching up.”

Kyle chuckled, his gaze lingering on you as you added the coins to your pile. “Told you it wasn’t so hard.”

The game continued, the pile of gelt shifting back and forth between you as you took turns. But as the rounds went on, you found yourself less focused on the dreidel and more on Kyle—the way his lips twitched into a smile whenever you teased him, the way his hands moved so sure and steady, the way his green eyes sparkled under the golden light.

At one point, your hands brushed again as you reached for the dreidel at the same time. Neither of you moved immediately, your fingers overlapping for a moment that felt far too long yet far too short. Kyle cleared his throat, pulling his hand back quickly, his cheeks turning pink.

“Your turn,” he said, looking down at the table with a sheepish grin.

You spun the dreidel, your chest tight with something you couldn’t quite name. As it twirled and clattered to a stop, Kyle leaned closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. The touch sent warmth blooming through you, and when you glanced at him, his face was so close you could see the faint freckles scattered across his cheeks.

The dreidel had landed on Gimel, but the game didn’t matter anymore. Not really. Kyle’s gaze met yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The room around you seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you bathed in the soft glow of the candles.

“Looks like you win this round,” Kyle said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” you replied, your heart pounding. “I guess I do.”

The party was finally starting to wind down, the once-bustling Broflovski living room now quieter as a few remaining guests mingled and chatted in the background. The menorah candles had burned lower, their flickering light casting soft shadows across the room. You and Kyle sat at the dining table, the remnants of your dreidel game scattered between you. Chocolate gelt wrappers glimmered like forgotten treasure, and the faint hum of conversation filled the air.

Kyle leaned back in his chair, tapping a wrapper idly against the table as he gave you a look. “Okay, but seriously, how did you manage to land on Shin six times in a row? Statistically, that should be impossible.”

“I’m just that unlucky,” you replied with a grin, stacking your small pile of remaining gelt. “Or maybe you rigged the dreidel.”

Kyle snorted. “Yeah, because I clearly have nothing better to do than rig a children’s game for a party my mom guilted everyone into attending.”

“It’s not a children’s game,” you shot back, laughing. “It’s cultural. And I’m learning. Be nice.”

He rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “Fine, fine. I’ll give you that. But you’ve got a long way to go before you’re dreidel champion material.”

“Oh, is that a title now? Dreidel champion?” you teased, leaning forward. “Do you get a medal for that, or just a lifetime supply of gelt?”

Kyle chuckled, shaking his head. “Okay, point taken. I’m dropping it.”

But as the laughter between you faded, a new kind of silence settled in. Kyle fiddled with the foil wrapper in his hand, twisting it into a small, misshapen ball. His gaze darted to the menorah, then back to you, his usual confidence giving way to something more uncertain.

“So,” he began, his voice quieter now. “How are you liking the party? Not too overwhelming?”

“It’s been great,” you said honestly, leaning your elbows on the table. “Your family’s amazing, Kyle. Your mom’s a little... intense, but in a good way.”

Kyle groaned, covering his face with his hand. “That’s the understatement of the century. Intense is her default setting.”

You laughed, but his comment made you notice the faint tension in his shoulders, the way he seemed to retreat into himself for a moment. “It’s nice, though,” you said softly. “To see how much she cares. And honestly? I’ve had a really great time.”

Kyle’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he offered a small smile. “Good. I was kind of worried you’d hate it.”

“Why would I hate it?” you asked, tilting your head.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, glancing down at the table. “It’s not exactly the most exciting party ever. And it’s Hanukkah, so it’s not like it’s... I don’t know, cool.”

“Cool?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Kyle, it’s been amazing. I don’t need it to be ‘cool.’ It’s meaningful. That’s what matters.”

His green eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for a moment, he looked almost stunned by your words. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, like he was searching for the right thing to say.

“Are you okay?” you asked gently.

“Yeah,” he said quickly, straightening in his chair. “I just... I don’t know. I guess I’m glad you came.”

“I’m glad I came too,” you said with a smile. “This has been one of the best nights I’ve had in a while.”

Kyle’s cheeks reddened slightly, and he looked away, muttering, “You’re way too nice to me, you know that?”

“I’m just being honest,” you said lightly, leaning closer. “What’s with you tonight, though? You’ve been acting a little... off.”

“Off?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly. “I’m not off. This is just my normal, neurotic self.”

You grinned. “You’re always neurotic, but this feels like another level.”

Kyle groaned, burying his face in his hands. “God, you’re relentless.”

“Maybe,” you teased, nudging his foot under the table. “But you love it.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond, and you wondered if you’d pushed too far. But then he sighed, dropping his hands and looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“Fine,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You want the truth?”

You nodded, your chest tightening as he hesitated.

Kyle took a deep breath, his fingers twisting the foil ball again. “I’ve been thinking about this all night. Hell, I’ve been thinking about it for weeks, and I wasn’t going to say anything because I thought it would ruin everything, but... I can’t not say it anymore.”

Your heart raced, the weight of his words sinking in. “Kyle... what are you trying to say?”

He looked up at you then, his green eyes bright with a mix of nervousness and determination. “I like you. A lot. Like, way more than I probably should. And I’ve been trying to act normal, but it’s been driving me insane because every time I see you, I just...”

He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. “God, this is so stupid. I sound like a total idiot, don’t I?”

“No,” you said quickly, your voice trembling slightly. “You don’t. Not at all.”

Kyle’s gaze softened, and he let out a shaky laugh. “I just—being around you makes everything better. Even when I’m stressed, or my mom’s driving me crazy, or Cartman’s being a jackass... you make it all easier.”

Your chest ached at the sincerity in his voice, and you reached out, covering his hand with yours. “Kyle, you’re amazing. I don’t know how you don’t see that.”

He blinked, his cheeks flushing. “You really mean that?”

“I do,” you said softly, your thumb brushing against his knuckles. “And for the record? I like you too. A lot.”

A wide, relieved grin broke across his face, and for a moment, he looked like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “You do?”

You laughed, nodding. “Yeah, Kyle. I do.”

Kyle hesitated, his green eyes searching yours again, his nervous energy palpable. “Can I... would it be okay if I kissed you?” he asked softly, his voice trembling just slightly, a mix of hesitation and hope laced in his words.

Your heart swelled at the question, your chest tightening with the weight of the moment. His vulnerability was so raw, so earnest, that it made your breath hitch. Slowly, you nodded, your voice barely a whisper. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

Kyle exhaled shakily, relief flickering in his eyes as he leaned in, moving cautiously like he was afraid to break the fragile space between you. The air felt thick with anticipation, every second stretching as you watched him close the gap. When his lips finally brushed against yours, the kiss was soft, tentative, like he was testing the waters, unsure of where this might lead.

His hand came up to cup your cheek, his touch warm and careful, and the gentleness of it made your heart ache. The first press of his lips was light, a whisper of a connection, but it lingered, drawing you in deeper. There was a sweetness to it, a quiet kind of awe, like he couldn’t quite believe this was happening. But beneath that sweetness was something else—something more urgent, a need that simmered just beneath the surface.

As the kiss deepened, Kyle’s fingers threaded into your hair, anchoring you closer. His other hand settled hesitantly on your waist, his grip firm but uncertain, as though he were afraid to overstep. You could feel his breath, warm and uneven, mingling with yours, and it sent a shiver through you that made you lean into him instinctively.

He kissed you like he was trying to pour everything he couldn’t say into this one moment—his longing, his uncertainty, his quiet devotion. There was an innocence to it, a hesitance that spoke to how deeply he cared, but there was also a quiet hunger, a sense of want that made your heart race.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping the soft fabric of his sweater as though grounding yourself against the overwhelming rush of emotion. His lips moved against yours with a careful intensity, each touch more deliberate than the last. It wasn’t rushed; it wasn’t chaotic. It was deliberate and full of feeling, a perfect balance of sweetness and need.

When Kyle finally pulled back, his breathing was ragged, his cheeks flushed a deep red. His gaze darted away for a moment, as though he were processing everything that had just happened. Then his eyes found yours again, wide and filled with an almost childlike wonder.

“I... I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admitted, his voice shaky but soft, a quiet confession that made your chest ache.

You couldn’t help but smile, your own heart pounding in your ears. “Me too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you reached up to brush a stray strand of his hair out of his face.

“Whoa! Ew! Gross!”

The spell shattered abruptly as Ike burst into the room, standing in the doorway with an exaggerated look of disgust.

“Seriously?” Ike said, throwing his hands up in mock horror. “This is so cringy. Do you guys practice this stuff or what?”

Kyle jerked away from you like he’d been electrocuted, his face burning a shade of red you didn’t think was possible. “Ike! Go away!”

“No way,” Ike said, smirking like the devil himself. “This is pure comedy gold. Mom’s gonna love this.”

Before Kyle could lunge for something to throw at him, Ike darted out of the room, his laughter echoing down the hall.

Kyle groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh my God. I’m going to kill him.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound soft and warm as you leaned into him. “Good luck with that. But for the record? Totally worth it.”

Kyle let out a long-suffering sigh, but his arm slipped around you anyway, pulling you closer to his side. “Yeah,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, a small, shy smile tugging at his lips. “It was.”

#south park x reader #south park x y/n #kyle broflovski #oneshot #fluff #hanukkah #holidays in hell #south park x you #south park x gn reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski x y/n

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try-set-me-on-fire · 1 month ago

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requesting hand kisses for all my life there you go if ur still taking :) that's one of my favourite ongoing fics in the whole fandom! every time u update I smile so big. - @team-118

@chaosandwolves also requested this one! Thank you so much omg 😳😳😳 Uhhhh sorry this is kind of stream of consciousness half tragic 8x08 reaction…. They’ll kiss for real eventually Eddie’s just going through it. On ao3!

“I don’t know,” Eddie says, backlit by the sun coming in through the window over the sink. Wrong sink, wrong window, so many many miles away from anything Buck knows as home, but also- maybe they’d fit into any kitchen like this. Eddie at the sink by the window, Buck at the table. So we just never leave the kitchen, Buck thinks. They never go back into the wrong living room of this tiny apartment 15 minutes from Christopher and 12 hours from Los Angeles. They never leave because Buck doesn’t know how to exist outside of this context, Eddie at the sink and Buck at the table. They just stay right here. They move kitchen to kitchen, it’ll all be okay.

“I don’t know,” Eddie says again. He looks tired. It’s January. He left before Thanksgiving and Buck couldn’t eat anything the whole day, pushed around turkey and mashed potatoes he helped Bobby make on the nice dishes Maddie got down from storage. It’s January but it's Texas, and it can get cold sometimes but it isn’t right now, so he’s in shorts and a worn out t-shirt, holes in the collar. His arms are crossed. Holding himself together. Buck knows the feeling.

“Buck,” Eddie says, stunned, broken open, dripping with guilt. “I didn’t know it would feel like this.” One hand wanders out from the knot he’s tied himself in and then quickly tangles itself back up again. “I don’t… know-” he laughs, this is stunned too. “You were there- you were always just there. I didn’t need to ask- there was nothing to ask. It’s just the way it was.” He looks up, guilty guilty. “I didn’t know it would feel like this. Leaving you.” All the air sighs out of Buck’s lungs, and he doesn’t know what to say. It’s never been hard to talk to Eddie, who’s always waited out his stumbled words and winding sentences easily and without judgment, but the only thing he has to say now is: I did. You were looking at homes and you said they’re in El Paso and I knew exactly what it would feel like for you to rip yourself out of me. I forgive you for not knowing — I didn’t understand either, until that moment — but I did know.

“And now I- Buck, I don’t want to live like that- like this- I don’t want a life without you in it. A-and I don’t know what that looks like.” Eddie’s face is helpless, begging. “I know you- I don’t know that I-” one hand reaches again, pulls back again. “You like men and I- I don’t know that I-” a furrow between his brows and he looks as scared as he only ever was telling Buck about people who died in a helicopter crash years after it went down. “I’d try. To be that for you. To- to do that with you. I’ll- we can-”

“Eddie,” Buck says.

“Can’t I just want to hold you?” Eddie demands it. “Can’t I- can’t you sleep next to me? Can’t I take care of you?” He looks near angry. “What do you- I don’t need anything else. I don’t need anything else. Just- can’t I have you?” Buck thinks it’s probably unnecessary to say you already do. In any way. Held and slept beside and cared for. What else is there? He’d live off far less.

“I’d marry you,” Eddie says. “I’ll marry you. You can- if you need- there can be other people but you can come home to me. I’ll- Chris- it’s getting better. We’ll come home soon, we’ll move home soon, and- and we’ll work together again and you come home to me-” hands uncrossed, hovering, shaking. “You can do anything, you can see other people, just- come home to me.”

“There’s only you,” Buck whispers.

“Buck,” Eddie says, a cry. He comes closer. “Please.” When his hands touch Buck’s face, warm, he almost flinches. It’s just that they’re so real, solid, impossible to dismiss as imagination or hallucination or dream or wishful thinking. Eddie’s hands, on his face, scratching into his hair, scrabbling over his back as the man collapses onto him smelling like deodorant and coffee and sweat, t-shirt cotton soft over the fat and muscle that presses into Buck’s face. Buck’s arms drift up to hold him back. This is a new place Buck could learn the context for. Kitchen sink and table, held in Eddie’s arms. The only two places in the world that make any goddamn sense. Eddie’s curled over him, a shelter, his body a home. But Buck already knew that, too.

“Sorry,” Eddie croaks. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left, I’m sorry I’m like this.” Buck holds tighter so Eddie doesn't shake so much. “I’m sorry I didn’t know. I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry you- I’m sorry I hurt you. God- Buck, it hurts, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry-” Buck shakes his head, face dragging across Eddie’s chest. He could fall asleep here. Rest until they go meet Christopher this afternoon. Rest until he has to get up at 4 to get to the airport and catch the red-eye and tear himself in two again. Visiting was a bad idea, maybe. He’s not sure he can survive that a second time. But Eddie said soon, he said he’ll come home soon, he and Chris. Buck and Eddie and Chris, who all come home at the end of the day, kitchen table kitchen sink Eddie’s arms sleeping and cared for.

“I love you,” Buck says. Why not. Why not.

“Buck,” a gasp, though surely Eddie can’t be surprised. He pulls back, face red and wet. His hands slide across Buck’s shoulders, down his arms, pull Buck’s hands up and press his knuckles to his mouth. Closes his eyes. Buck feels warm puffs of air against his fingers. Two lungs messy breathing loud in the small room. “Buck,” he says, and Buck knows what he means, knows the reply for what it is. He was wrong, the flight will be easy. The wait will be easy.

Eddie opens his eyes.

#my writing #all my life there you go

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skateordiebitch · 1 month ago

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I LIKE HER || D.F. x reader

‘i’d give the world to her

as long as my heart's still beating

as long as she's next to me

because i like her’

summary: dominic goes to your house for thanksgiving. to say he's nervous... is an understatement.

inspired by '20191009 i like her' by mac demarco! this was so cute to write, even though my parents are definitely not like this and i have never invited a significant other over... like ever LMFAO. i also wrote after i smoked and made it an reader x elliot story. (???) so i had to re-edit all of it this morning. last time i'm ever doing that😭

enjoy, and as always, requests are open <3

The drive to your parents’ house was quiet, but not in the usual, comfortable way.

The silence hung in the air, thick with tension and anticipation, rather than the easygoing, relaxed kind you’d grown used to in the car with Dominic.

His fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were bone white, his jaw clenched in concentration, and every now and then, he glanced at you with a nervous, half-smiling look that almost made your heart ache.

It was endearing in a way, but also a little disconcerting.

This was the same guy who could walk on stage in front of hundreds of people without flinching, who seemed to breeze through life with his trademark devil-may-care attitude.

Yet today, in the face of Thanksgiving dinner with your parents, Dominic was unmistakably, undeniably terrified.

You watched him for a moment, your mind spinning with a thousand thoughts. You’d known Dominic long enough to know how much he hated being vulnerable, how much he hated showing weakness.

But here he was, acting as though he were about to face a firing squad instead of a family dinner. It was hard to reconcile with the confident, magnetic man you knew.

“Babe, you’re acting like you’re about to go into court or something,” you teased gently, reaching over to rub his shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

He let out a breathy laugh, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

His gaze remained fixed on the road, his expression still tense. “I might as well be. Your dad hates me, doesn’t he? I mean, he’s gonna hate me for sure. I’ve heard all about him.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. “My dad doesn’t even know you yet. Besides, you’re gonna charm him just like you charm everyone else. Remember when you met my friends? You had them in love with you in, like, ten minutes.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to marry your friends,” he muttered under his breath, still staring at the road with a furrowed brow.

Your heart skipped a beat at his admission.

It wasn’t the first time he’d hinted at something more serious between you two, but this was the first time he’d put it so plainly.

His face flushed as soon as the words left his mouth, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to cover up his slip. “I mean… I’m just saying, meeting your parents is a big deal. Like, huge. And what if I mess it up?”

His voice trailed off, and you could hear the uncertainty in it, the raw vulnerability that was so unlike the confident, carefree persona he usually put on.

You leaned in, your hand resting gently on his arm.

“Dominic,” you murmured softly, your voice full of affection, “You’re not going to mess it up. Just be yourself. That’s the guy I fell in love with, and I promise, it’s the guy they’ll love, too.”

He glanced at you, his eyes softening just slightly, the weight of his worry easing a little. He gave you a small, almost shy smile. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is easy,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand gently. “Trust me.”

—

When you finally pulled up to your parents' house, the scene that greeted you was exactly what you’d expected: a whirlwind of activity.

The smell of roasted turkey and pumpkin pie wafted out the door as your family bustled around, setting the table, carrying in food.

Your mom was the first to spot you, her face lighting up in a smile as she hurried over to pull you into a tight hug.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you’re here,” she exclaimed, pulling back just enough to look at you. Then her eyes shifted to Dominic, her gaze appraising but friendly. “And you must be Dominic! Oh, we’ve heard so much about you.”

Before he could react, she pulled him into a hug as well, surprising him. He blinked in surprise, eyes wide for a second, but recovered quickly, offering her a warm smile. “Thank you for having me… It’s an honor to be here.”

Your mom laughed, waving him off as though he were a nervous child. “Oh, please, don’t be nervous. Come on in and make yourself at home.”

As you walked inside, your dad was standing near the kitchen, his arms crossed in a way that made him look more intimidating than he actually was.

His thick eyebrows were arched in that signature skeptical way you knew all too well. Dominic swallowed hard, his anxiety creeping back up as you nudged him gently forward.

“Dad, this is Dominic,” you said, your voice casual, but your heart was hammering in your chest, too.

Dominic extended his hand, his palm a little damp, and your dad took it with a firm grip. “Dominic, huh? So, what’s this I hear about you being a musician?”

“Yes, sir,” Dominic replied, his voice a little tight but polite. “It’s something I’m really passionate about.”

Your dad gave him a measured look, nodding slowly. “The music industry can be tough. I hope you know how to fix a car, too. It’s good to have a backup plan.”

You stifled a laugh, nudging Dominic’s shoulder with playful affection. “He’s got more talent than you’d think, Dad.”

Dominic cleared his throat, trying to shake off the nerves that still clung to him. He rubbed the back of his neck and gave your dad a tentative smile.

“Yeah, it’s... not the easiest career, but I love what I do. And I’m lucky to have people who support me.”

Your dad hummed, his expression still unreadable. He motioned toward the dining table. “Well, dinner’s almost ready. Why don’t you two take a seat?”

Dominic followed you to the table, but he felt your dad’s eyes lingering on him, sizing him up. He leaned close to you as you sat down, whispering, “Is he always this intense?”

You smirked, whispering back, “Only when he thinks I like someone.”

Dominic laughed nervously, glancing at you for reassurance, and you shot him a quick wink. The tension in the air seemed to lessen just a little.

---

As the evening went on, Dominic started to find his footing.

He was surprisingly good at navigating the conversation, drawing people in with his self-deprecating humor and lighthearted stories.

He told everyone about his disastrous attempts at joining his school’s basketball team—complete with exaggerated, comedic flair—and regaled your family with embarrassing anecdotes from his childhood.

The more he shared, the more relaxed everyone became, and your mom, who was already refilling his drink and piling mashed potatoes onto his plate, seemed to be warming to him more with every passing minute.

“So, Dominic,” your dad said, setting his fork down and fixing him with a serious look. “What exactly are your intentions with my daughter?”

You groaned softly, shooting your dad an exasperated look. “Dad, don't—”

But Dominic cut you off, his voice steady despite the tremor of nerves beneath it. “I like her,” he said, his eyes meeting your dad’s. “A lot. Like, I really, really like her.”

The room went silent, the only sound the faint scrape of your mom’s fork against her plate as she froze mid-bite.

You blinked, stunned, your heart doing a flip at the raw honesty in Dominic’s words.

Your dad raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “Is that so?”

“Yes, sir,” Dominic continued, his voice gaining strength. “I know this might not be the usual way things go, but your daughter... she’s incredible. She’s smart, funny, talented, and honestly, she inspires me. I don’t take that lightly.”

Your dad stared at him for a moment that felt like an eternity before finally nodding. “Well, Dominic” he said gruffly, “I can respect a man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to say it.”

Your mom beamed, breaking the tension. “I think that’s sweet. Don’t you, honey?”

Your dad grunted, which, in his world, was as close to a blessing as Dominic was going to get.

And at one point, while you were helping your mom in the kitchen, you couldn’t help but sneak a glance at the dining room. Dominic was seated next to your dad, who was animatedly showing him how to carve the turkey.

Dominic, who you knew had probably never held a carving knife in his life, was listening intently, his expression one of exaggerated concentration.

“Well, look at that,” your dad said with a proud smile as Elliot made a rather passable slice through the turkey. “You got it!”

Dominic looked over at you, beaming as if he had just won a prize.

He came back to the table and offered you a slice of turkey, his grin practically glowing with pride.

“Guess I have a new backup career,” he said, his voice low, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculously pleased he looked.

“You’re doing amazing, babe,” you whispered, squeezing his hand under the table. “And by the way, you’re definitely passing the test.”

He squeezed your hand back, the relief in his smile obvious. “Thank God. Your dad was terrifying for a minute there.”

“He’s just protective,” you said, your voice soft as you glanced at your dad from across the room. “But he likes you, trust me.”

As the evening wore on, the laughter and conversation grew more relaxed. Everyone was at ease, sharing funny stories, teasing each other, and enjoying the food.

Your dad had even stopped making “backup plan” comments, and you could tell that Dominic was starting to truly feel like he belonged.

—

When dinner was over, you and Dominic decided to step outside for a quick walk to get some fresh air. The cold night air was crisp and refreshing, the stars shining brightly above, and you both walked hand in hand down the quiet street.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” you teased, nudging his shoulder.

He let out a long breath, pulling you close to his side. “Honestly? I was more nervous than I’ve ever been for a show.”

“Well, you pulled it off,” you said, smiling up at him. “And now my parents love you.”

Dominic let out a long breath. “Not gonna lie, I think your dad just aged me by ten years.”

You laughed, slipping your hand into his. “No, you did great. And for the record, I like you too.”

Dominic dramatically froze, his eyes wide as he looked down at you. “Wait. No way. You do?!”

You smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Yes, idiot. I do. A lot.”

Dominic grinned down at you, his forehead pressing against yours. “I didn’t want to just impress them, you know. I wanted them to… see how much I care about you. How serious I am about you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you just stared at him, breath caught in your throat. “Dom…”

He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his eyes soft and steady. “I don’t want to be with anyone else. And I wanted them to know that.”

You stood there, frozen for a moment, the weight of his words settling over you like a gentle but undeniable truth.

The crisp night air seemed to fade into the background as you searched his eyes for any sign that he didn’t mean it.

But there was nothing but sincerity, nothing but warmth.

Your chest tightened, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth, even as a lump formed in your throat. “Dominic,” you breathed again, your voice barely above a whisper.

He lowered his hand from your face, but not before his thumb traced the curve of your cheek, his touch lingering like he couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away.

The tension that had gripped him earlier in the evening—his fear of not measuring up, of not being good enough for your family—seemed to have dissolved completely.

Now, standing under the vast, quiet sky, he looked like a man who knew exactly what he wanted. And what he wanted was you.

“I mean it,” he continued softly, his voice steady. “I’m in this. With you. All the way.”

You felt your heart swell, that familiar warmth spreading through your chest, pulling you closer to him.

The way he said it—so earnestly, with so much confidence—left no room for doubt.

You had always known Dominic was passionate about his music, about his career, but hearing him talk about his feelings for you, about how serious he was about the two of you, made everything feel… different. Bigger. Realer.

“I’m glad,” you said, finally finding your voice, your hands slipping around his waist as you leaned into him. “Because I don’t want anyone else either.”

He smiled then, a soft, private smile just for you, and it felt like everything you needed to say was already understood between you.

There was no need for more words.

Instead, he cupped your face gently, pulling you in, his lips brushing against yours in a slow, deliberate kiss—one that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

After a long moment of silence, he finally broke it with a grin. “So, do I still have to do the dishes to make a good impression?”

You laughed, pulling back to meet his eyes. “Absolutely. That’s part of the initiation.”

Dominic groaned dramatically, throwing his head back in mock despair. “The things I do for love...”

You laughed again, the sound light and carefree, the weight of the evening finally lifting.

He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as he lifted you off your feet in one smooth motion, spinning you around as you squealed in surprise. You both tumbled into a fit of laughter, your heart soaring in his arms.

When he finally set you down, he kept you close, his hands still resting on your waist as you both stood there in the quiet street, the laughter tapering off into contented silence.

For a moment, everything felt so right, so easy, and the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, standing under the stars.

“You know,” Dominic said quietly, his voice low and serious again, “I think I could get used to this.”

His thumb traced small circles on the back of your hand, the same thumb that had strummed a guitar for hours in front of audiences but now held your hand like it was the most important thing in the world.

You leaned into him, your head resting against his chest. “What, the being nervous part? Or the Thanksgiving dinners?”

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Well, I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but… Thanksgiving dinners are kind of great. Even with all the anxiety.”

You smiled up at him, feeling a surge of affection that was almost overwhelming. “I’m glad you think so,” you murmured, “because there are going to be a lot more of them. I’m kind of attached to this family, you know.”

His eyes softened, the playful teasing replaced with something deeper, more earnest. “Yeah, well… I plan on being around for all of them. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your breath caught again, and this time you didn’t try to hide the way your heart swelled in your chest. He wasn’t the type to say something like that lightly, and you knew he meant it.

There was a certain finality to his words, a quiet but unmistakable promise.

Before you could respond, Dominic nudged you gently, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “But seriously… dishes?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hold back a smile. “Yes, seriously. You’ve got to pay your dues somehow.”

Dominic groaned again, but his grin was back, and it was impossible to miss how relieved he seemed.

The tension that had been building in him all day, the worry about impressing your parents and meeting their expectations, seemed to have melted away completely.

It was as if the approval he’d so desperately sought had been given, not through grand gestures or perfect words, but through simple moments of connection, laughter, and genuine sincerity.

“Alright, alright,” he said, pulling you closer again and pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Dishes it is. But you know, I’m going to need something in return.”

You arched an eyebrow, sensing a tease in his voice. “Oh? And what might that be?”

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “How about a lifetime supply of Thanksgiving dinners?”

Your heart skipped, and you could feel the heat in your cheeks as you laughed softly. “Sure,” you whispered back, “Maybe, you’ll even get something else, too.”

Elliot’s eyes darkened with playful curiosity. “Oh yeah? And what would that be?”

You leaned in closer, your lips just a breath away from his. “You know what I mean,” you said, letting your words linger in the air, a teasing edge to them.

His breath hitched, his grin widening. “At your parent’s house?!”

“Okay, maybe not here… But, when there’s a will there’s a way— I have a car, you know.”

“Well, then I like the sound of that,” he muttered, and you could feel the heat between you shift, the playful tension suddenly charged with something more electric.

“I’m gonna do those dishes so damn fast,” he said, his hand sliding down your back as he pulled you closer again.

You leaned into him, lips brushing against his in a kiss that was a little slower, a little more promising this time. “Good,” you whispered against his mouth, “because I always keep my word.”

—

The quiet of the night stretched on around you, but you didn’t mind. It was peaceful, comfortable, and for the first time all evening, it felt like everything had come full circle. The anxiety, the awkwardness, the moments of uncertainty—gone, replaced by something so much more real.

Something you both could stand on.

Dominic squeezed your hand one more time, and you both stood there for a few moments longer, just holding each other, as if savoring the last remnants of the day.

Finally, with a small but contented sigh, he let go of you reluctantly. “Alright, we should probably head back in before your dad starts hunting me down for that backup career.”

You laughed and took his hand, tugging him back toward the house. “I think we’ve earned our place here, don’t you?”

He smiled, his arm slipping around your waist as you walked back toward the warmth of the house and the sounds of family inside. “Yeah. I think we have.”

And as the door closed behind you, you realized you couldn’t have asked for a better Thanksgiving, a better future— one where Dominic, despite all his nerves and uncertainties, could be part of the family.

And that was more than enough.

#dominic fike #dominic fike fan fiction #euphoria #dom fike #elliot euphoria #my writing #dominic fike imagines #dominic fike x reader #dominic fike x you #requests open #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

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minkieater · 26 days ago

Text

EIGHT FIRST DATES ꨄ︎

002 》 LEE CHAN

you’d discovered you weren’t one for wine, but maybe you weren’t one for whiskey, either. when a classmate finally works up the courage to ask you out, you thought it might be divine timing. now with thanksgiving only seven weeks away, will he be the one?

wc 8.3k | lil toxic argument, drinking, dino being a little cutie pie angel baby

sunday and monday you were floating, tip toeing on clouds with your head so far in a hyunjin induced dream you couldn’t find your way down. but that’s all it was — a dream, because when tuesday rolled around something was different. off.

sunday you had spent the entire day in your house, cleaning up your room like you did every week and catching up on laundry. hyunjin was receiving live updates (that he asked for) and responding to each one with encouragement, followed by words of endearment, calling you every pet name in the book. he told you he missed you probably a total of four times on sunday.

your head hit the pillow with a smile and you woke up monday morning still on facetime. you hung up before he opened his eyes, taking a moment to look at his gorgeous sleeping face before ending the call, not wanting to risk him waking up to you staring at him. monday you went to your classes with less time to flood your text thread, but you figured he was probably busy when he didn’t spam yours, either.

monday night he said he couldn’t facetime, he had a friend over. cool, totally fine, no biggie at all. tuesday you didn’t even get a goodmorning text— you’d been receiving those for almost a week now. you figured maybe you just woke up before him, so you sent him one instead. he didn’t respond until two pm.

when you got back home after your classes on tuesday, you and hyunjin had barely spoken a word, you’d only sent two texts in the thread and were waiting on a reply. you were trying to be casual about it, not check your phone every minute and force your brain to not think anything of it, not think about it period. the truth was, you were panicking.

“i need you guys to be honest with me,” you stood at the bottom of the stairs to your basement, ace and your three best friends sitting on the couch before the tv.

all four of them barely gave you a glance, eyes focused on the game on the tv, controllers in their hands.

“we’re always honest with you,” yeosang answers, eyes still trained on the flat screen. “fucking sweats!”

“don’t tell me you died again!” ace yelled, his jaw dropping, “i can’t rez you, we’re getting third partied.”

“we’re getting fucked,” san gasps, before he groans, then the four of them simultaneously yell out a fuck! they must’ve all died, which is pretty solid timing for you.

“okay, now can you be honest with me?” you walk over to the couch, plopping yourself down in the only space open beside yunho, with ace, san and yeosang to his left.

“what’s up?” yunho asks, putting the controller next to him on the couch, eyes focused only on you.

you told them everything, from the date to how you felt about it to now — skipping over the unnecessary details of being in hwang hyunjin’s bed — they fed you uneasy expressions, it made the pit in your stomach drop.

“oh, i’m fucked, aren’t i?” you asked after you looked around the room, everyone’s face looking… sad? pitiful? disappointed? you couldn’t pinpoint it.

“unfortunately, i think you might be,” ace’s lips pulled into a thin line, giving you a curt nod with closed eyes. “he’s probably never going to answer that text.”

“but i thought it went really well!” you whined, body sinking into the couch, head falling back. you picked it back up, eyebrows furrowed, “he even wanted me to sleep over!”

“probably so he could fuck you again,” san wore a frown, leaned over on his legs with his chin in his palm. “if you like him, why’d you fuck him? i would’ve made him wait.”

you turned to your twin, “ace, close your ears.”

he covered his ears with his hands immediately, eyes closing and humming loudly into the air to block out whatever you didn’t want him to hear — he definitely didn’t want to hear the details either.

“i don’t think i liked him all that much until we were fucking,” you shrugged, your next words became hushed just incase ace could hear. “he even made me… you know.”

“even? like he- wait, you- why are you saying it like that?” yeosang’s eyebrows were furrowed, head shaking as he spoke, leaning even closer toward you from his far spot on the couch.

“is that not normal? are we talking about the same thing right now?” san asked, he wore the same expression, eyebrows scrunched together and eyes full of disbelief.

“what do you mean?” your cheeks flushed — you hadn’t shared much of your sex life with your three best friends, you didn’t shy away from talking about it per se but where there were the three, ace was usually following close behind. he was always more open about that stuff than you.

“do the guys you sleep with usually not make you finish?” yunho cleared the air, nipping the miscommunication before it could go any further. ace took a pause, swallowing his spit and taking a breather before he continued his humming.

“no?” you looked between the three of them with a question mark over your head, “hyunjin was the first to do it.”

your three best friends looked horrified.

“jesus christ, tiny,” san shook his head, leaning back on the couch.

“yeah, you’re not getting over him any time soon,” yeosang shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest while joining san against the cushions.

“you’ll be fine, teens,” yunho rolled his eyes at his friends’ reactions, “you do need to pick better guys to fuck, though.”

“great,” you huffed, standing up from your spot on the couch, “this is really really great and awesome, you guys. i go on one date, one, and look at what happens! i have super great fantastic sex like someone told me to and i get ghosted?! this is pointless!”

ace opens his eyes before he lets go of his ears, watching you pace around the room. he looks between the three boys around him, “what’d you say to her?”

“we didn’t say anything!” yeosang’s eyebrows are in his hairline, “she’s freaking out because he’s ghosting her.”

“relax tiny, it’s only been a couple of hours,” ace looks up to you, a shred of concern in his eyes, “best thing you can do is act like you don’t care. don’t double text, don’t watch his social media, nothing — watch him text you back, and when he does, don’t answer.”

you pause your pacing, hands on your sweatpant covered hips with a glare pointed at your twin, “that’s fucking stupid.”

“but it works,” your twin smiles, “do you want to get a boyfriend or not?”

in your classroom management lecture the next day, you had hyunjin’s instagram open on the long desk in front of you. his profile picture was circled with a red line, meaning he had a story available, beckoning you to watch. ace’s words rang in your head, don’t look at his social media — but it’s so hard.

he’d been watching every single thing you posted, it only pissed you off more. he did end up texting you back yesterday, a simple one word answer, one that took every fiber of your being not to answer. you didn’t listen to ace for many things, but considering he was the one in the relationship and you were not, you figured you’d give his theory a try.

“did you do the assignment from last week?” you lock your phone, following the voice to the guy that sat next to you. you think his name was chad, chase maybe…?

“uh, yes, it was due three days ago. did you?” you furrow your eyebrows and he gives you a weak smile, bringing his hand up to scratch his head. he has a nice smile.

“i’ll take that as a no,” you smile back, running your fingers over the mousepad on your laptop that had gone into sleep mode. “i can email it to you if you want?”

“that would be amazing, you’re a lifesaver. thank you,” he leans into your space, peering over at your laptop screen as you pull up the assignment. he smelled good, his cologne was something unique, somewhere between smoky and floral — you couldn’t put your finger on it.

he types in his email, [email protected], saving you the embarrassment of asking his name that he’d probably already told you plenty of times. his blonde hair curled under his ears, laying messy atop his head, straight nose peeking out from where he stared at your screen. this could work.

you push your hair behind your ear, “if you need any other help with assignments or anything, uh, you can always ask me.”

“really?” he smiles wide, his eyes bright, “thank you so much, er— what was your name again?”

your lips scrunch in an attempt to hide your laugh, he didn’t know your name either. you reintroduce yourselves, both smiley and giggly in the back of your lecture hall. you couldn't believe you didn’t point him out earlier, in his oversized hoodie and thick pair of sweats he looked delectable. you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a girlfriend.

if hyunjin wasn’t going to work out— which at the moment it was looking like he would not, maybe lee chan could.

you chatted for the rest of class, hushed whispers that only got you two looks from the people sitting in the row before you. you talked about your classes in the past three years, your professors, where and when you’d be taking up a student teaching role this year. the conversation flowed easily, chan made you feel like you’d known him for years, he spoke extremely well and much too casually for this to be the first time you’d really spoken.

you ended the class with your phone number in his contacts, where he created a new text thread the moment you parted ways. you left the lecture hall feeling more educated than you had all semester, and it had nothing to do with classroom management.

when you got to your car, you were quick to turn on the heat to defrost the november chill that had seeped its way into your bones. when you went to plug in your phone, you almost screamed at the notification that was sitting on your lockscreen.

hyunjin: hey pretty girl, miss you already hyunjin: can i see you this weekend? i’m free friday

as if adrenaline was shot directly into your veins, every thought about lee chan disappeared. you were quick to screenshot the messages, sending them in your groupchat named ‘🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒 (and tiny)’.

you: [1 image: attachment] you: THAT SHIT FUCKING WORKEDDD

it took less than a minute for your boys to answer you.

yeo: are we getting live updates now yeo: is that whats going on yeo: (yay btw)

you: YEA. UR ALL INVOLVED NOW

twin: see what happens when u listen to me

sannie: yay!!!! why are we yelling!!!

you: BC IM HAPPY AND EXCITED AND HE TEXTED ME

yunho: he misses u “already” .. it’s been four days yunho: eeeek

you: but he misses me you: did u see where he said that you: btw just in case u missed it

— yunho liked your messages.

you didn’t realize that you had forgotten to text chan back in your hyunjin-related daze, only remembering he existed when you saw his blonde hair peeking out of his hoodie as he walked to his seat on friday.

your face felt hot as you followed behind him, completely embarrassed that you had forgotten to answer him, and now you had to sit next to him for the next hour. was he mad at you? did he care at all? you were usually really good about answering your texts — you had to apologize.

“chan,” you said as soon as you sat down, the word escaping your lips before your bag hit the ground. “i am so sorry i forgot to answer you.”

he lifted his head, almost looking surprised at your words, his bright eyes wide and eyebrows raised. “don’t apologize, i assumed your boyfriend saw my text and didn’t want you to answer.”

“my boyfriend?” you cock your head to the side, and chan looked at you like you had three heads.

“yeah, the guy’s instagram you were looking at on wednesday? you were staring at it for like, the whole class,” he said it like that must’ve been the only answer — if you felt embarrassed before you started the conversation, this was mortification.

“oh my god, chan, that is not my boyfriend,” you waved your hands in front of you, you could feel the heat in your ears. “he’s just… he’s an influencer i follow.”

he laughs, his head tipping back, “that makes total sense! i thought he was going to find me after class and beat me up or something.”

you shake your head, laughing alongside him, grateful for your quick thinking. a little white lie never hurt anybody, especially not lee chan when he turned to you and asked, “wait, so you’re single?”

you give him a nod, “painfully.”

“that’s good!” he smiles, his voice getting a bit louder. your classmates that sat around you turned their heads, following the interruption— class hadn’t even started yet. he hushed his voice, quickening the pace at which he spoke as he continued, “well, not good for you, but good for me. actually, it could be good for both of us, depending on your answer.”

“my answer?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

he raised a flat palm to his blonde forehead, squeezing his eyes tight, “damn, i fucked that up. do you like whiskey?”

a smile threatens to break out across your cheeks, the left corner of your mouth lifting up. “i might, i’ve never had it before. why?”

“there’s a tasting tour at a distillery on the edge of the city, i’ve been dying to go for a while now but none of my friends will go with me. i figured since i want to get to know you better, and maybe you want to get to know me better—”

“lee chan, are you asking me out on a date?”

“i’m trying to,” his smile is wide, a rosy hue to his cheeks. “are you free tomorrow night?”

“i am,” you nod with a laugh, “i’d love to go, sounds fun.”

his smile is impossibly bigger as he claps his hands in front of him, “thank god.”

getting ready to go over hyunjin’s place wasn’t as nerve wracking as the last time, you could dress a lot more comfortably, but you still wanted to impress. a lounge set that clung to every inch of you and a pair of faux sheepskin boots covered your feet, equally as cozy as it was cute. if going to his place ended up anything like last time, you wanted to dress the part. desirable, yet not trying too hard.

as you walk into your kitchen to fill up your water bottle almost your entire family is stood around the island, already deep in conversation. they all turn to you and you stop in your tracks, but no one says a word.

“you should just knock on his door and say take your pants off,” yeosang broke the silence with his hand in a bag of chips, looking at you through hooded, red eyes, glossed over enough to shine under the cool lighting of the kitchen.

you shrug, not sparing him a glance when you said, “not a bad idea.”

“tiny!” your mom scolds, a fake gasp on her lips before she winks, “at least make him work for it first.”

“we’re missing the point here,” your stepdad comments with a frown, shaking his head, “i don’t want to hear about that shit.”

you smile, “don’t listen then.”

“tiny,” she warns as you fill your water, ignoring her. the rest of the boys were quiet for once, ace not even cutting in to defend your stepdad, he knew better by now. everyone did.

“i’m leaving!” you call as you finish filling your water, turning on your heel to walk to your front door. you hear steps behind you, a six foot two hindrance on your tail.

“are you sure you want to go over there?” his eyes are less red than yeosang’s, more glossy than anything as you turn to face him.

you’re taken aback, not expecting yunho out of all people to hold you up. you have one hand on the door handle as you ask, “why wouldn’t i?”

“i have a bad feeling about him, teens, i don’t know,” he lifts the cap off his head to run a hand through his hair, then pulls his hat back on. he looked stressed, eyes darting everywhere but your own and fingers tugging at the hem of his hoodie. you brushed him off.

“don’t be ridiculous, he’s just a guy. i’ll be fine,” you bid him a smile and wave of your hand before you fully turn around again, slipping through your front door before he had the chance to get another word out.

you felt uneasy as you slipped into the driver’s seat, yunho has never spoken to you like that — never put his two cents into anything that had to do with your love life, even if it just became existent.

in high school, with your petty crushes and kisses behind the bleachers, he’d never been anything but supportive. through all of your conversations about meaningless hookups in college he’d never given you more than a smile and a nod, he’d never called you out or mentioned anything of an opinion. you didn’t know how to take it.

as hyunjin opened his front door, he wore that same kind smile that got you under him in the first place. dressed in a loose fitting tee shirt and sweatpants that hung off his hips, you almost took yeosang’s advice.

“hey, baby,” he pulled you inside by your waist, planting a quick kiss on your lips. when he pulled away he licked his bottom lip, raising his eyebrows in satisfaction, “strawberry?”

you smiled, mumbling about your lip gloss being new as you took your boots off, keeping your purse on your shoulder. he walked off into his kitchen and you followed, white socks sliding against the dark hardwood floor.

“want a drink? i have wine,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, a mischievous smile on his lips. you felt off— you didn’t know if it was from yunho’s words placing paranoia in your brain or if there really was some sort of weird tension between you, but you couldn’t shake the feeling.

you shook your head, putting your purse and water bottle on his counter. “i brought water, thank you though.”

maybe it was all in your head, hyunjin seemed completely normal as he sauntered toward you, placing his hands on your hips, pulling you flat against him. his words came out low, dragged out as he said, “i missed you.” he pressed his forehead to yours and you smiled, running your fingers up his arms to his shoulders.

“missed you too,” you pressed your lips to his, hands coming up to cup his cheeks. he kissed you softly, lips moving in a slow rhythm, his tongue slipping into your mouth. his hands moved up to your chest, feeling you through your top, and you sighed into the kiss.

all you could think was that he had ample time to see you since last saturday, it’s been nearly a week. you weren’t as into it as you were last weekend.

he pulled back, his eyes at half mast and searing into yours. he lifted a brow, “everything okay?”

“yeah!” your voice was high pitched, an extremely clear lie, one that didn’t go unnoticed by him.

he stepped back, back hitting the edge of the counter, arms crossing. “what’s up with you?”

he spoke as if you’d known each other forever, as if your behavior was uncommon. it didn’t sit right with you, it felt fake, like he was pretending to know you so well. you wanted to slap yunho — if he hadn’t said anything, you wouldn’t have walked inside hyunjin’s apartment with a sour feeling in your gut. now the feeling wouldn’t leave you, and you only had him to blame.

“nothing,” you shook your head, trying your best to wear a convincing smile. beneath the facade was your date, how the doormen at the exhibit knew his name, the mind blowing sex you had, how he nearly ghosted you after, how he’s acting now, yunho’s words in the back of your mind… you were beginning to wish you hadn’t come here.

he tipped his head back with a sigh before answering, “is it because i didn’t text you much this week? i’m sorry, baby, i’ve been really busy.”

you nodded, wearing the smallest smile, “it’s okay, you don’t owe me anything.”

he lifted a brow, “that was too easy.” he stepped toward you again, painted fingertips reaching for your arms, pulling you close to him. “you sure nothing’s bothering you?”

“how did the guy working the door at the exhibit know your name?” the question fled from you without you allowing it to, your eyes widening in surprise for just a second after you’d processed what you asked. you stared up at him and he was taken aback, mouth opening and closing a few times before responding.

“me and him go way back,” he smiled, glancing down to his fingers that still held onto your forearms. “an old friend from high school.”

you lifted a brow, “what about when you flat out told me you’d never been to the exhibit before, yet you knew everything that was in there?”

his lips pursed as he stepped back, putting distance between you.

“you go there all the time, hyunjin, the doormen know you because you go there. often,” your eyes were piercing him now, you didn’t know where this was coming from. wednesday you were ecstatic about coming here, even moreso tonight, right before yunho opened his fucking mouth.

he let out a laugh, as if you were making all of this up. “no i do not!”

“what about when you said you didn’t take me back here just to sleep with me?” you couldn’t stop now, anger rising up from a place you didn’t know existed. you could hear san’s words in your head, when you mentioned hyunjin wanted you to sleep over last saturday — probably so he could fuck you again. “why’d you invite me over tonight, hyunjin? so you could kiss me and feel me up through my top? get me back in your bedroom?”

“do you hear yourself right now?” his eyes were wide, a smile on his face that told you he was amused. “i didn’t think you were the crazy type, i guess there’s nothing different about you.”

you stared at him, expression unchanging, jaw locked and eyes ripping him apart without saying a word. he still stood with that cocky smile, hair falling so effortlessly around his face, it enraged you even more.

“come on, baby, i don’t wanna fight…” he stepped forward again, fingers once more reaching for your wrists. you tucked them behind your back, giving him one last look before you grabbed your stuff and moved.

it was a quick walk back to his foyer where your boots lived, it felt entirely too long with hyunjin on your heel. “are you seriously gonna go? what was your plan, come over here, yell at me and then leave?!”

you stayed silent, pulling your boots over your heels, then reached for the door handle. you whipped it open and he caught it, arm looming over your head as you slipped out of his apartment.

“this was a waste of my fucking time.”

you didn’t look back once as the door slammed behind you, keeping it together until you made it to your car – then the tears fell. the past week of your life felt like whiplash, is this what dating is like?

you didn’t know if you had it in you to do this again, repeat the process, if it was even worth it just to show off to your family. you leaned back in the driver’s seat of your car, tears falling silently onto your top, the only noise in the car was your sniffles.

“please give me some kind of sign, any sort of guidance. i need to know if i’m doing the right thing,” you whispered into the air, eyes trained on the ceiling of your car, but your gaze went way further than that. you hoped he could hear you.

the distillery was something out of a grown man’s wet dream, there was way more to be toured and learned than you imagined. you hadn’t imagined it all actually, not until about an hour before chan picked you up, then you just imagined a big bar.

there were so many different things to see during the tour — it was an experience. from ingredients to water source, fermentation tanks and stills, barrel rooms for storage, how they package bottles all the way down to the tasting. not only did you get to go to the tasting room, but chan added on a cocktail creating class for you to learn how to make different drinks with whiskey.

you learned you did not like whiskey — not one bit. the easiest to drink was a honey bourbon, sweeter and less smokey than the other ones you’d tried, but it was extremely easy to appreciate the liquor for how much work was put into making it.

when you were in the tasting room, the tour guide was adding water and ice to almost every single pour you’d tried and you still had to fight the gag that fought to rise up in your throat. you had the back of your hand glued to your nose, fighting to get the taste out of your mouth.

chan, on the other hand, was loving it. in the barrel room, the tour guide was shooting different types of whiskey into his glass, all raw, undiluted and straight from the barrel. the strength of it was no joke, you saw the pink rise to chan’s cheeks after his second glass — at that point you still had the tasting room to go to and the class.

“this is actually really good,” chan’s eyes were wide in surprise as he slid the deep caramel liquid in his glass toward you, cheeks tinted a cool rose.

you were sitting in the tasting room, on your fifth and last pour. you tapped out long ago, and chan had not only been tasting his share, but yours too. you dipped your tongue into his glass like you’d done the four previous times and cringed, it was spicy.

you coughed, eyebrows knitted together and your hand immediately coming up to cover your mouth to keep the bile at the bottom of your stomach. you breathed through your nose, tears beginning to form at the base of your eyelashes.

chan didn’t notice, instead he looked toward the guide, his hand shooting up in the air. “why does the rye taste so different?

the guide smiles, oblivious to his clear intoxication, “the rye is the spice, it gives it the kick unlike the sweeter bourbon, that’s why it’s paired so well with dark chocolate.”

chan turns to you, his expression dead serious as he says, “we should get a bottle and a bag of dark chocolate, that’s probably really good.”

chan had said really good about eighty times since his cheeks had grown pink, at this point it was funny how many times he could repeat the words.

“i’m good, actually,” your lips form a thin line, waving your hand in front of you. you’d be perfectly fine going your entire life without tasting whiskey again.

chan frowns, “didn’t you like this one?” he goes to grab an almost empty glass, a sweeter bourbon that you hated the least. instead of grabbing it, his hands tip the glass over, which falls into another almost empty glass, spilling different shades of honey liquid all over your small table.

chan gasps, bidding you a sheepish smile, “oops.”

you glance around, there was not a paper towel to be seen. you whispered a fuck before you hopped up from your seat, legs rushing to the bathroom to get paper towels.

you caught yourself in the mirror as you reached the bathroom, over your shoulder as you pressed the dispenser repeatedly. you took a moment with yourself to take a deep breath, fighting the tightness in your throat, forcing the tears to stay where they’d formed. it was all too much.

you refused to cry in the bathroom on a date with your drunk classmate, especially not over being overstimulated. you shook your head, pulling yourself together and darted back out to clean up his mess.

“thank you, ‘m sorry,” he mumbled, looking up to you with his big doe eyes as you wiped down the table. you smiled, he was so fucking cute. how could you be upset at a face like his?

“no biggie, i cleaned it all up,” you held up the paper towels as proof.

he leaned his head against your side as you stood over the table, his fingers in his lap, a yawn ripping from his chest. maybe you’d only been on one date previous to this, but this had to be the weirdest position you’ve found yourself in yet. you convinced yourself before you came to not cancel, you thought it’d be uplifting after what happened with hyunjin —which it is, thanks to his cute face and repetition of really good— but the foul mood you’d been in since last night loomed over you.

maybe you should’ve rescheduled, waited until you were in a better headspace before cracking your exterior to let chan in. it was too much, so many things happened in twenty four hours, you wanted to sleep. you still had the cocktail class after this.

the guide finished up the tasting, taking your group to the distillery’s bar area, a long oak counter before a wall of whiskey. there were bar stools as if it was a regular old bar, which you were sure it was, with time scheduled out to hold these classes.

chan wobbled in behind you, fingers tangled with your own, moreso you pulling him along than you were holding his hand. he was still giggly about it, staring at your linked fingers with a wide grin, you couldn’t help the warm feeling in your stomach from how adorable he is.

chan wasn’t like hyunjin, didn’t ooze sex appeal the way hyunjin did, wasn’t flirting with you with big facts and lore about things you’d never understand. chan was almost innocent, with his fluffy blonde hair and skateboarder clothes, not once during your entire date so far did you really pick up on anything romantic between you.

it felt like you were out on an excursion with a good friend, trying out something new with someone enjoyable. even if you didn’t necessarily enjoy what you were doing, it was so fun to do something new, and experience it with someone new.

“welcome, welcome,” you looked up at the bar after helping chan get situated at the stool, and who stood tall behind it took your breath away.

with skin like honeyed amber, brown curls that laid carelessly over his forehead, a straight jaw that held up a smile that could kill… he was perfect. he put hyunjin to shame.

you supposed you couldn’t compare them, broad shoulders and a sculpted chest, arms so muscular you couldn’t stop staring. hyunjin was a masterpiece on his own, but this man had an entirely different aura. he reeked of old money, poise, a maturity you realized you were looking for in the wrong places.

“this class is gonna be really good,” chan beamed, hand holding his face with his elbow propped up on the bar. you agreed with a sound of amusement then brought your eyes back to the man whose face you needed to burn to memory.

“i’m mingyu, your bartender and your teacher for the next,” he looked down to his watch, a gold band with a face so intricate you knew it was expensive, “forty three minutes.”

“i’ll be teaching you how to make three classic cocktails today— a manhattan, an old fashioned,” he glances to all of you sat around the bar and you swore his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, “and to get a little fancy with it, a vieux carre.”

“what’s a vieux carre?” chan asked from beside you— you think social anxiety is afraid of him as the entire bar turns to look at who asked the question, he doesn’t even notice. your cheeks flush, trying to escape everyone’s focus.

mingyu smiles, canines on display, “you beat me to it.”

“first i’ll get into the history, just in case there are any other whiskey nerds amongst the group,” he winks and you nearly pass away. you wish you heard a word that left his lips after that wink but your ears tuned him out, his mouth was moving but your thoughts were too loud to hear anything.

how his pretty lips moved when he spoke, the veins that rose in his neck as a chuckle escaped him, how his fingers held onto the shaker, his build was incredible.

“…you’ll find that a vieux carre is most popular in new orleans where it originated, it was invented in the 1930s by a bartender named walter bergeron. the name vieux carre literally means ‘old square’, a nod to the french quarter of new orleans,” his gaze fell over chan as he speaks, eyes pointed in a way to let chan know he was answering his question, “it contains rye whiskey, cognac, sweet vermouth, benedictine liqueur, and bitters.”

you burned under his gaze even if he wasn’t looking at you, a heat that lingered even after he looked away.

“in front of all of you are three sets of ingredients, tools, all organized into groups for each drink we’ll be making,” mingyu explains, pacing from one end of the oak bar to the other.

you turned to chan, whose face lit up at the sight of all the spirits, liqueurs and bitters in front of him. “we’re going to share,” you said under your breath in his direction and he gave you a look that said definitely, eyebrows scrunched and lips pursed with a thumbs up. you fought a giggle at his look, everything he did has been making you laugh all day.

mingyu began explaining how to make a manhattan, and the more you listened the more you realized you’d be making all of the drinks — chan would have to be your taste tester, much too buzzed to be able to pour a half ounce shot.

you nodded to yourself, pulling all of the ingredients towards you as mingyu kept explaining, setting yourself up. two ounces of rye whiskey, one ounce of sweet vermouth, two dashes of bitters and a cherry — easy enough.

“can i pour the stuff?” chan asked from beside you, halfway off his barstool, fully pushing himself into your space.

“i’ll measure, you pour,” you nodded without looking at him, adding ice into your glass and setting it to the side.

you grabbed the bottle of bitters and handed it to chan, “shake this in there a few times.”

he did as he was told, adding a little more than you would’ve into the shaker but you were sure it was fine. you poured the vermouth into the one ounce side of the jigger and handed it to chan, who poured it inside the shaker (almost missing the shaker completely). you repeated the process twice with the whiskey and shook it with ice, pouring it into your chilled glass, and chan added a cherry on top with a proud smile.

“it’s perfect,” chan marveled, eyes widening at how gorgeous the cocktail looked in the glass — you agreed.

“let me taste,” mingyu walked over, a thin straw in his hand, where he dipped it in and plugged one end of the straw, locking the liquid inside.

the way he lifted it to his lips was criminal, his long finger covering one end of the straw, how his lips parted to taste the drink all while keeping eye contact with you. it almost fogged your brain completely when he started speaking.

“strong on the bitters there,” he lifted his brows, a smile crossing his face, “but good nonetheless, nice job.”

you beamed— pride consuming you. you never thought you’d be proud of curating a cocktail that only consisted of three ingredients, but the way he complimented you made you feel like you had just climbed a mountain.

you tasted it yourself after thanking him, taking a small sip of the drink. you cringed, tasting the spice of the whiskey so heavily, and chan looked eager, hand already outstretched to take it from you. you passed it over as soon as the taste hit your tongue.

“that’s fucking disgusting,” you muttered, nose crinkled, lips in a frown. chan giggles as he takes a swig of the drink, getting it down with ease.

“it’s delicious,” chan disagrees, “we have really good teamwork flowing right now, you making the drinks and me drinking them.”

you snort without noticing mingyu, who was walking back over to you wearing a dangerously gorgeous smirk on his lips, “ah, not a fan of whiskey?”

you wipe all emotion off of your face in surprise before a nervous laugh escapes you, “it’s just strong.”

he laughs with you, nodding along, “not many kids like you make it through a distillery tour and tasting without liking whiskey, maybe one of the cocktails will change your mind.”

you internally cringe as kids like you floats off his lips — how old is this guy to be calling you a kid? he doesn’t look a day over twenty five.

he looks to chan who had taken another big swig of the cocktail, almost finishing it off, “actually, maybe you should just focus on getting him home safely.”

you hadn’t even thought of that— chan had driven you both here. your face drops and mingyu chuckles again before directing his attention to the rest of the bar.

“okay… there’s a lot of drama surrounding the correct way to make an old fashioned, so i’ll make this quick — you’ll be learning how to make kim mingyu’s old fashioned.”

by the time the class was over, chan was hammered. three strong drinks and a couple of secret two ounce pours of rye whiskey straight down his throat, he was done for. you didn’t stop him, though, he was so happy you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. a part of you wondered what his plan was if you couldn’t drive you both back to his place.

“you gonna be okay?” mingyu rips your attention from your phone to him as you stand in the middle of the room, waiting for chan to return from the bathroom before you leave.

“what do you mean?” your eyebrows furrow as he walks closer, and you finally see him from the waist down. a pair of white slacks, a thin, black belt, paired with the slightly oversized cardigan he had on— you couldn’t match his expensive if you wore your mother’s entire wardrobe.

“is he your boyfriend? the little, drunk blondie?” he tilted his head with a ghost of a smile, one of his hands sliding into his pockets.

you stared at him in disbelief, eyes slightly pointed because you didn’t know if that was an insult or not, “the little drunk blondie is a friend from my class.”

“class?” he lifted an eyebrow, “did you show your ID before coming in here or do i have to fire incompetent staff?”

your lips parted for a moment before you asked, “fire staff?” you knew he looked older, he definitely portrayed a certain maturity but you didn’t think a mere bartender would have a position high enough to fire someone.

“my point is, are you gonna be okay getting home? you’re sober?” you blinked at him twice before a smile planted itself on your face, he stayed after to talk to you. he approached you. maybe you weren’t crazy and his eyes did linger on you for a moment longer, maybe he was in yours and chan’s corner more than anyone else’s.

“you think i actually drank any of that?” you smirked, tilting your head to one side, “couldn’t stomach shit after the barrel room tasting.”

he tsks, his own mouth lifting at the corner, “it’s an acquired taste, maybe you’re not old enough yet, tiny.”

you audibly gasped— he said it wrong, but the word tiny definitely just left his lips. “what did you just call me?”

his eyes widen and you could see the tips of his ears redden, “i- it wasn’t an insult, i just don’t know your name and—”

“no, no,” you shook your head with a surprised laugh, waving your hands, “my family calls me tiny, that caught me off guard, i’m sorry.”

you run a hand through your hair as his cheeks redden, so unlike the demeanor he portrayed. that rich poise he exuded was gone in a moment, a childlike innocence taking over with his embarrassment. fuck— you were so into him, and you’re on a date with someone else.

“anyways, i’m sober and we’ll get home perfectly safe. thank you for asking,” you smile, catching chan enter the room from the wooden double doors behind mingyu.

he wore a huge smile, nearly skipping over to you as he yelled, “mingyu! thanks for a really good class, i loved it!”

he slightly slurred his words, reaching up to put his hand on mingyu’s shoulder that towered over him. mingyu smiled down to chan, “of course, anytime, man. i’ll give you my card just in case you’re interested in buying whiskey— straight from the source.”

his gaze turned to you as he finished his sentence, reaching for his wallet as he spoke. he pulled out a small louis vuitton card wallet, handing you his business card from inside.

it was brown with white lettering, the name seventeen whiskey on the front with kim mingyu on the back, owner right beneath his name, and his contact information directly beneath that.

you looked up at him in shock, clutching his card between your fingers, firing incompetent staff made a lot more sense now. even his outfit made more sense— you felt silly for thinking he was just a bartender. he owned the entire fucking distillery.

“i want one too,” chan looked up to mingyu, bidding him those doe eyes that no one could say no to with a pout, and mingyu was quick to fall victim — you would’ve, too.

you both bid mingyu goodnight and walked out of the distillery, bracing yourselves for the long walk back to chan’s car. when you finally sat in the driver’s seat you gave yourself a moment to breathe— he’s gorgeous, he’s kind, he called you tiny out of all things, he’s the owner. he gave you his number.

as you started your drive back to chan’s with low music humming through the speakers, you could feel the business card in your pocket burning through the denim of your jeans. he gave you his personal number, that meant you should call him tomorrow, right? or did he really mean for whiskey purposes?

you shook your head, he was definitely inconspicuously giving you his number. even if he outright said call me you didn’t think chan would notice in his state, you could've said anything to chan and it would’ve gone in one ear and out the other.

as you pulled into the parking lot of chan’s apartment complex you finally looked over to him and he was knocked out. eyes closed, hands clutching the hoodie he had on, he was out cold. you smiled, his sleeping face was so cute.

after you parked, you pulled out your phone and dialed ace’s number to pick you up— no answer. you huffed, head leaning back into the headrest before dialing yunho’s number instead.

“teens? you okay?” he answered after one ring, a panic to his voice.

“yeah i’m okay, can you pick me up please? chan got real—”

“absolutely, send me your location, i’m on my way,” he hung up and you sent him your location, then turned to the sleeping chan beside you. you smiled again, the serene expression on his face and the soft, rhythmic breaths he let out, his chest rising and falling with such a calm you were jealous of. he’s so beautiful.

“chan, time to go in,” you grabbed his arm lightly, giving it a small squeeze. he stirred and you squeezed him again, and one eye finally opened.

“huh?” he asked, stretching his limbs, looking every shade of confused. you snorted again, rubbing his arm where you squeezed it.

“let’s get you inside,” you smiled and unbuckled his seatbelt for him, then got out of your seat, walking around the car to open his door. you put out a hand for him to grab, “come on, sleepy.”

you smiled the entire walk up to his apartment— this felt so backwards, but so fitting for chan. his apartment was so boy, with sports posters and magazines and the mess. you knew he had roommates from the piled up shoes at the door but none showed their faces as you walked him to his bedroom.

he plopped on the bed, peeking at you with the eye still visible with his head crushing his pillow, “you’re not staying?”

you couldn’t stop smiling as you sat on the corner of his bed, giving him a shake of your head. “not tonight, it’s bedtime for you, lee chan.”

the corner of his smile was visible and he closed his eyes, mumbling through the fluff of his pillow, “had a really good time tonight, thank you for coming with me.”

you stood and walked to the door, shutting off his light before you said, “goodnight, chan.”

when you walked out of his room, a guy stared right back at you. jaw dropped, hand in a bag of chips, glasses on his face— he was stunned. brown hair curled atop his head, down his neck, a baggy sweater hung on his shoulders. all of chan’s friends must be as cute as him, this one resembled something like a chipmunk with his mouth full of chips.

you gave him a smile too along with a small wave as you left the way you came, through his front door. yunho was parked right outside and you let out a sigh of relief, you could sleep so soon.

your brain was whirling as you got in his passenger seat— you had so much to unpack, so much to think about. it all started yesterday.

“everything okay?” were the first words out of yunho’s mouth, “do i need to kill anyone?”

you laughed, shaking your head, “no, chan just got hammered at the distillery and i had to take him home, no biggie.”

he lifted a brow as he put the car in drive, “the man who took you on a date got too drunk to take you home? i’ve never heard of someone getting fucked up at a distillery.”

you shrug, “he was having fun.”

“sorry it didn’t go well,” yunho frowned, turning the wheel to pull out of chan’s development. he had soft rock playing through the music again, you were sure his fingers would tap along to the music any minute now.

“it went great, actually,” you smiled, “he might not be boyfriend material but he’s a really cool guy. i happened to meet someone else,” you wiggled your eyebrows towards yunho who gave you a look.

“you met someone else on a date?” he asked, baffled, and your smile grew.

“he’s the owner of the distillery, gave me his number on his business card. god, he’s so hot, he’s gotta be a step up from hyunjin,” you threw your head back on the headrest, eyes shut, smile on your face. yunho doesn’t share the smile.

“anyone’s a step up from hyunjin,” he shook his head, “what happened yesterday, anyways? you came home crying, heard your sniffles through the wall.”

“wow, thanks for checking on me,” you scoff, “you were right in your mysterious bad feeling about him, he sucks. just wanted to sleep with me, just like san said.”

yunho paused, lips tightening into a line. “i’m sorry, teens, you deserve better than that.”

you shrug, “it’s cool, the only reason i realized is because you said something, now i know not to trust art guys that kiss you while they fuck you.”

as you pulled up to a red light, yunho faces you, expression dead serious as he says, “im serious, tiny.”

you nod, feeling smaller under his gaze, letting out the smallest “i know.”

“you’re special, teens, you can’t go around giving yourself to just anybody. you deserve someone who’s gonna appreciate you, cherish you, all the little parts about you. i’ve known you since you were born, i can’t sit back and watch you go on a slew of disaster dates with shitty guys who don’t deserve to breathe your air,” the light turns green and his gaze is back on the road, but yours doesn’t leave him.

you stared at him as tears welled up in your waterline, you didn’t know what to say. you didn’t say anything, neither did he because yunho doesn’t talk like that. for the rest of the car ride, tears silently fell down your face as his fingers tapped his steering wheel to the song, but the silence wasn’t awkward. it was comforting— as yunho always was, as yunho always will be.

8fd masterlist | main masterlist

tags: @chimivx @emmxxsworld @alisonyus @livixcore

#lee chan #lee chan x reader #lee chan imagines #lee chan fanfic #lee chan fluff #seventeen #svt x reader #svt x you #svt au #hyunjin x reader #mingyu x reader #8 first dates #8fd #dino x you #dino x reader #dino x y/n

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azzifuddworlddomination · 6 months ago

Text

casual pt. 5

(5/5)

paige x azzi

we end where we started

love yall

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

Between their intense schedule of games and the impending doom of finals, the UConn women’s college basketball team was stressed. So, Nika proposed that they all go out to blow off some steam the same place they always do. The team went out to Ted’s.

While the team took shots, Azzi’s absence was palpable. The team knew that she went to Montana for Thanksgiving, but they decided it would be best if they avoided the topic with either of the girls. So, when Azzi left the bar shortly after arriving they figured whatever happened in Montana was not a step forward in their relationship.

Azzi stood outside, the cold wind blowing against Paige’s her jacket. “It’s fine, no I swear its fine,” Azzi says into her phone. “What happened?” She says as muffled crying can be heard from the other line.

Azzi was the only person in Lauren’s life, besides her elementary school friends, who knew about her boyfriend. Now, Azzi was the only person who knew about her breakup. She held it together long enough to ask her mom to borrow her phone before she absolutely collapsed on the other line as Lauren detailed the highs and lows of her three weeks with Brady. Azzi listened intently on the other line, providing the support and advice that Lauren needed. Azzi didn’t even mind the cold or the fact that the rest of her team was having fun without her. She didn’t have the heart to hang up on Lauren until her tears subsided and she became her giggly self again.

Azzi reminds Lauren of her promise to beat that punk at horse the next time she’s in Montana, which prompts Lauren to giggle a little too loudly for being up past her bedtime. Amy comes in and asks Lauren to give her back her phone and go to bed for the night. Azzi almost hangs up, but Amy begins to speak, “Azzi, thank you for taking care of my girls. Have a good night, sweetie.” Azzi’s heart warms at Amy’s gratitude. She returns the well wishes before hanging up to walk back into the bar.

Whatever warm fuzzies that invaded Azzi’s heart are eradicated as soon as she steps through the door. She sees Paige. She’s talking to another girl. She’d seen her before, with Paige. She saw Paige’s hand reach for the girls arm. She stares, hard. Her feet stick to the floor while she decides whether to walk towards the door or Paige. Azzi can’t hold her tongue this time. She can’t run away until she calms down.

She’s a woman on a mission as she walks through the crowds to get to Paige. “How… How could you???” Azzi nearly screams as tears well up in her eyes. The people around Paige begin to turn around to see what’s happening around them. Azzi knows she knows she’s causing a scene. “How in any world can you just flirt with another girl after I went all the way to Montana with you because you can’t deal with being alone with your mom? And- and- the only reason I left was because your sister called me. She didn’t even call YOU. You didn’t even know about her boyfriend or her break up, I had to play sister when you couldn’t! And you had the audacity to say we’re just casual?? It didn’t feel casual when I fucked you in the bathroom at Thanksgiving dinner. Your MOM was at the table. You wonder why I’m bitter. I hate that I let this drag on so long. Now I hate myself. Fuck you Paige, go to Hell,” Azzi spits out. Maybe it was the few drinks she had earlier in the night or maybe it was the blind rage that she felt when she saw Paige touch that girl, but Azzi couldn’t care less that she just exposed explicit details about their sex life to their teammates and strangers.

Paige reached for Azzi as Azzi jolted her body away from her. “Don’t touch me Paige. Go fuck one of your girls until you feel better, I’m done,” Azzi spats as she turns towards the door. “No, Azzi, please,” Paige says desperately as she follows Azzi into the cold wind outside. “Get the fuck away from me Paige,” she says as she makes her way down the side walk. Paige finally catches up with her as she grabs her arm. “Azzi please just listen to me,” Paige says breathlessly, tears in her eyes. “I don’t know what you could possibly say that I want to hear,” Azzi says as she rolls her eyes.

“I was telling her we were done. That girl… I was telling her that I can’t see her anymore… That I had a girlfriend,” Paige explains. “A girlfriend?” Azzi asks, “so that’s what you’re calling me now. Seems like just a couple weeks ago you were telling some guys that we’re just casual, nothing more than a hook up,” Azzi scoffs. “You know we were never casual, Az,” Paige replies. “Then why did you say it?” Azzi snaps, “why did you act like I’m just some girl you fuck on your couch like all the rest of them.” “I didn’t know if you were ready… I knew you were seeing some other people and I didn’t want to be too overbearing. I didn’t want to define our relationship for you. So I figured I just wouldn’t define it at all,” Paige admits. “I love you, Azzi and I’m ready. I’ve been ready, please, just say the word,” Paige looks at her, absolutely helpless. “I love you too, P,” Azzi says as she pulls Paige into a kiss.

Paige quietly opens the door to her room, and pulls Azzi around to the other side of the door. She presses Azzi up against the door as she drunkenly leaves a trail of sloppy kisses before pulling Azzi onto her bed. Azzi crashes against the mattress as Paige kisses her neck. She removes her hand from Paige’s hair as she digs below her back pulling something out from underneath her. “Is this a bra, P?” she breaks away from the kiss. “Didn’t have the decency to take another girl’s bra out of your bed before you laid me in it?” Azzi scoffs, only half joking. “S’your’s,” Paige drunkenly replies. “Oh shit, its my good bra! I’ve been looking for this” Azzi replies upon further inspecting the item, “you sleep with my bra ,P, God you’re corny.”

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #pazzi #paige x azzi #uconn wbb #Spotify

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lolitastories · 23 days ago

Text

Sir

Rafe Cameron

Walking into a relationship you know that eventually that person you are with in said relationship will one day meet your family. For me, that was today. Rafe and I have been dating for a couple of years and my family finally asked about the guy I was spending all this time with. No boy has ever lasted long enough for me to want them to meet them but here we are, on my porch waiting to walk inside. And you want to know what the worst and most terrifying thing is? It's Thanksgiving so my whole family is over. “You okay?” I look up catching a glimpse at his hand nervously rubbing against each other.

“Sure.” A quick and short response followed by an uneasy smile. I grabbed his hand and intertwined our fingers.

“Okay well if you are” I say knowing he totally was. Rafe wasn’t a guy to get nervous or intimidated, until now. “ Just know that no matter how this goes it won’t change my mind about you” His face relaxes a bit so I go in and place a kiss on his cheek. “Now come on, I am starving” It was a couple hours from my family home and I hadn’t eaten since yesterday's dinner. Holding on to Rafe’s hand we walk in together and see the house already filled. My uncles around the living room pretending to watch the kids. “Hey” I smile waving at everyone.

“Hi!” My head turns immediately towards a small figure running towards me. On the side of my head I heard one uncle after another stand to greet Rafe and shake his hand. “Want to know what I learned about the universe?” I nod hearing how excited he was as he pulled out his tablet and opened up slides of pictures. As he blabbered about naming each planet and star, I smiled hearing Rafe and my uncle's conversation.

“Nothing wrong with taking over your father's business” One remarks. “Most of our sons will” They all nod.

“But how do you feel about maybe having to deal with two businesses?” What are they doing? I could still hear the sweet young voice talking more about the universe so I kept on paying more attention to the conversation.

“Oh yeah, he won’t be so happy about his daughter working on another business.”

“Not his princess” I rolled my eyes as my uncles spoke among each other. My father had his own business in construction but since he didn’t have any sons he chose someone among his daughters and that daughter was me. I was the one to deal with his books and knew almost everything about it so he decided to leave it to me one day.

“Are you going to allow her to keep working? Because that girl loves to work” I wanted to scream lies!. I don’t love to work, I just enjoy it.

“So what planet do you want to be?” My attention is taken back to the young boy when he pulls on my sweater. It takes me a minute to think,

“How about venus?” I point out the planet among the whole solar system. He nods, smiling rushing over to take his seat again.

“I will put your name beside it!” I send him a smile before walking over to stand beside Rafe. I must have missed an important part of the conversation as my uncles don’t even look over to me and Rafe stands there with an awkward smile.

“Okay,” I look over to them. “We’ll be back” They all nod, faking a smile. “What happened?” I turned to ask Rafe when we stopped at the hallway before the kitchen.

“They told me your father wasn’t going to allow his business to die,” I nod my head. “Said if I stay and we have a son that he will inherit your family business,” My smile dies down to a comforting one. I walk closer wrapping my arms around his waist.

“Honey?,” I whisper, making him look down towards me. “Our kid will do and choose what they want,” His hands move gently up my back and begin to caress it as his head falls into the crook of my neck. “Plus who says we will only have one kid?” I pull back with a suggestive grin. “If you want there will be enough kids to choose from” I sent him a wink before grabbing onto his hand and walking into the kitchen.

“There you are!” The first person to see me was of course my mother. Once hearing those words my aunts and grandmother look from their designated food making and see me and Rafe. “So this is Rafe?” I nod. Rafe lifts his brow in confusion. Of course I told my mother about him, and the rest of my aunts.

“Nice to meet you ma’am” My mother walks over and shakes his hand. “Am Rafe, nice to meet all of you” he directs to my family members.

“So nice to have you here with us today, so much to do” She puts a kick in her step as she rushes back to the stove. “¡Hey?!” I look up as she waves me down. “I need you to do the sauce and then get to washing the dishes.” I pout, hearing once again the same words on holiday.

“I heard you work in construction?” One aunt asks as we walk towards the side of the island. Rafe watches as I place the ingredient on the counter and start making the sauce.

“Yes,” He responds.

“Does it make good money?” I look up shaking my head but of course they don’t pay attention and just laugh it off as they continue.

“Yes, because although our niece is helpful-” She pauses to hold back a smile. “She has a lot to learn about being a wife in the kitchen” I roll my eyes. It was no mystery to Rafe that I couldn’t cook, I tried but only every blue moon, will something I make taste good.

“She is skilled working outside in the man's world but in here?” My other aunt scoffs, “She is like a lost puppy” They all snicker to her comment.

“I think a relationship is 50/50 most of the time,” I looked up, pausing to hear what rafe had to say. “We balance each other off.” I bit my lip continuing back to my task. “We both lack some attributes according to past stereotypes but we make it work,” I hold back a grin as he responds with such kindness yet there is no doubt he is calling what they just said old school. “But to answer your question, yes” he turns to my aunt who asked the first question. “I make enough money to be able to hire a cook if need be” My hands froze. My cheeks heated up and I could practically feel how my stomach dropped. Rafe was trying to be polite but that response was not in the right tone.

“Well good” I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until my grandmother broke the silence. “My granddaughter deserves someone as understanding as you” She smiles, coming over to pat Rafe’s arm. “God knows those men out there wouldn’t be caught dead helping us” I look over catching the wink she sent over to me.

“I love to cook but she is right, I wouldn’t mind a day where those men do something” My mother adds. Most of the men in our family work in their company, impressive yes but they have the mentality that a woman should take care of the house and kids. As a man they understand they have many responsibilities like yard work but since they have the money, they pay someone to take care of it so they can sit back and relax. I place the sauce in a different bowl and walk over to the sink.

“Well back to the real questions” I throw my head back already hating what they are going to say.

“Yeah, like what are your intentions with our niece?” another aunt blurts out. Rafe moves to stand beside me but leans his back against the counter beside the sink.

“You know she has never brought a guy home?” I tense up seeing from the corner of my eye Rafe’s little smirk.

“There was this one guy” I look back as that aunt finds my eyes. “What was his name again?” She moves her head back looking at my mother

“Daniel?” My mother questions unsure. She knew that wasn’t his name. She also knows I hate any conversation that includes him.

“No,” My aunt shakes her head. “Anyways, they were friends since middle school and we didn’t know about him until her freshman year of highschool,” Kill me, I chanted in my head. “Such a cute story,” She finishes

“We were routing for them to marry, how cute would that have been?” I hear agreement among each other.

“So if she never introduced him to us officially then that would mean you are pretty special to her” I smile looking down at the plates once more and continue on with my washing.

“Special is an understatement” My mother comments. “Remember how she often spaced out and giggled from her bedroom could be heard late at night?”

“Yes,” My grandmother laughs. “When she finally told us about you, everytime and even now she smiles at only hearing your name.” At that moment I feel Rafe’s arm brush against me and I look over to see a slight smile plastered on his face.

“Venus?” We all look over to the young voice rushing into the kitchen. “Hey?” He looks between me and Rafe puzzled. “What are you?” I bit my lip holding back a laugh at Rafe’s confused face. “Wait!” He cuts him off before Rafe could respond. “You’re Mars” He pressed a few things on his tablet before turning it over for us to see. “Venus, goddess of love and Mars, god of war, they belong together” He said it like it was pretty obvious. He looks down and walks back out the kitchen like nothing.

“So back to the question-” Her voice is cut off by the kitchen door from the backyard opening wide and shutting with a harsh slam.

“My office now” His stern voice is directed at me. My family members don’t flinch since they are already used to my fathers attitude. I dry my hands in a hurry, not too excited to hear him right now but when I go to step off Rafe grabs my arm.

“Am okay” I give him a reassuring smile as I continue to walk out towards his office.

“Don’t worry honey, he would never hurt her” I hear my mother faintly say to Rafe. The noise from the kitchen continues but it slowly blurs away once I enter my fathers office and close the door.

“When were you going to tell me?” He slams a file towards me on the desk. I walk forward to analyze it but I don’t even have to open it to figure out what's inside.

“I told Letty to give it to you when you returned from the holidays,” I groaned quietly to myself but of course he heard it.

“I went to check something last minute and there it was waiting on my desk!” He paces back and forth behind his desk. “You knew my plan?” He pauses. He leaned against his arm, who were gripping the side of his desk. “You were almost done with figuring out everything and here you come and put in your two week notice?!” I was always clear with him from the beginning. From the moment he told me his business was going to fall into my hands, I told him there was doubt in my mind I wanted it. He assured me plenty of time that I would eventually love it but it has yet to be proven.

“Dad” I walk forward, setting my hands on his desk. “You know my sister wants this, she has been speaking about it for ages and even took it upon herself to join the company” He shakes his head.

“You know she doesn’t have the backbone to deal with the type of people in this industry” It's true, but she has been working so hard.

“Maybe that is true but you haven’t given her a chance. Everytime she gets a shot at something you hand it to someone else,” He seats back into his seat with a low grunt.

“I tried to bring myself to do so but you have to understand that if she gets to see the ugly side of things she won’t love this anymore” The tension in my shoulders died down. Yes my father can be harsh but he always puts us first as a person.

“Listen,” I sit down and lean forward. “She has great ideas and eventually she will grow to ignore the rants and harsh words from competitors,” He looks sadden, “If it makes you feel better I will stay until you agree she is well off alone.”

“Alright” He lets out a deep sigh. “Stay here” He is quick to react as an idea pops up in his head. He gets up and rushes out the door. I wait a couple minutes of anticipation until he comes walking through the door again but this time Rafe is close behind him. My father demeanor cold and distant, what was he playing at? “My daughter has told me about you,” I don’t even react as I lean back against the chair and rest my hand over my face. “She mentioned you were planning to extend yourself outside of outer banks” I roll my eyes. Rafe should know way better than to believe him. He never spoke about work to me and not because he didn’t want to but because we had better things to do than discuss work. “How's that working?” My father stands behind his chair.

“Pretty well, other than the constant travel and how much it's going to pile up in the next couple of months, it's been going smoothly” I hear his voice just behind me.

“Glad to hear that” He smiles, I look up hearing his footsteps walk around his desk to lean against the front of it. “Is that why my daughter was planning on quitting my company?” My eyes shoot up towards him. Rafes uneasiness was radiating from him. “Already putting ideas in her head?”

“No sir,” Rafe’s hand falls on my shoulder and I instantly place mine above his. “I would never think of pulling her away from something she loves,”

“Well I hope that is true because it would be such a low blow, Wouldn’t want to start off on the wrong foot aye?”

“Of course not” He nervously says, taking a step back as my father takes a step towards him. Even though Rafe was taller, when I stood up he seemed frightened by the stance of my dad. His head lowered in anticipation waiting for the next words to come out of my dad's mouth.

“Don’t act so serious” My father lets out a laugh. “Am not a bad guy,” He looks back at me with a smile. “Right?” I only nod. “If you do right by her and you are okay with me” He pats his arm before walking towards his door. “I am going to watch the game now” He didn’t even take a last look towards us as he walked out. I couldn’t help but laugh at Rafe’s expression.

“You alright there bud?” I walk closer and his face turns into one of displacement.

“Don’t call me bud” He runs his hand across his face before turning over to see if someone was near the door.

“Would you want me to call you-” I walk closer, getting near his ear. “Daddy?” It took less than a second to clasp his hand over my mouth.

“Stop,” He warned. Hiding under his hand was a huge grin. He lets out a heavy sigh before taking his hand away. I didn’t say anything knowing he was just trying to kill his nervousness down. His eyes finally search mine and his face turns into a frown. “Are you okay?” I smile loving how he could turn so loving in a split second.

“Yeah, just business,” He shakes his head moving closer to me.

“I don’t like your family," he says bluntly. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Haven’t had enough time with your uncles but it seems they have the same ideals as your father” He points back. “Your aunts shouldn’t say things like that about you and your father?” I could see him fuming. “They way he demanded and screamed at you?” My eyes widened in surprise. This was what my whole life consisted of, to me it was normal.

“Rafe everything is okay” I place my hands on his cheeks. “I don’t care about those comments as long as people who matter the most are there for me”

“Yeah but I hate that I couldn’t say any more or do anything that wasn’t disrespectful” My smile grew bigger as my arms embraced him around his neck and pulled him closer.

“Baby,” I whisper, grabbing his attention. “I don't care for them. You alone make this seem like a grain of sand, I only need you” It was true. I have told Rafe stories about my family but it wasn’t as bad as it was in person. Back then I would keep to myself and hide away in another room so I wouldn’t hear them talk but now, all I repeat in my mind is that I have a wonderful man who loves me. “I have you who accepts me as I am, bad cook and everything.” A smile finally appears on his face.

“Horrible” He add which makes me hit him teasley on his shoulder.

“Shut up,” I say as our laughs die down. “Ready to eat?” Rafe takes a second looking at my expression to which he nods.

“Yeah,” He pecks my lips before pulling away. “one more thing” I look back confused at Rafe. “If they say anything else about you in a bad way, we are leaving.” How could I take him seriously when he was trying to be overprotective? In the back of my head I knew I didn’t need it but it was sweet for him to try and take care of me.

“Of course, my love” I stood up on my tippy toes to give him a quick kiss. “Now let go, I am starving” He smiles as he takes my hand, and we walk out together.

“We were about to come looking for you two” My aunts say as we all gather around the dining room table. “You never got to answer my question young man” She points jokingly as some laugh. She nudges it as for him to forget about it but what Rafe said next shocked everybody. and left me red, how could I love this man even more?

“Marry her” He pulls out a chair for me and continues. “My intentions are to marry her and make her happier than she has ever been”

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notiddygothgf · 30 days ago

Text

16. Right Here

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ I want a divorce. ❞

★ c.w.: drinking, mentions of domestic violence

★ a/n: hello my dumplings. i'm FINALLY on thanksgiving break. im so grateful for you all! So grateful, in fact, that i wanted to show you all just how much ily with a new chapter. sorry i left y'all hanging for so long! you know i hate to be that way lmfao. the plot is thickeningggggg!! i hope you all love this one! please comment and vote and interact with me, i love u all so dearly. muah! enjoy!

★ w.c: .4.5k

shameless ; chapter index

The words felt like concrete falling off of your tongue – simultaneously good and bad. On one hand, you felt lighter, freer now that the words had been said. On the other…

You were fucking terrified of your husband.

A second ticked by as the color drained from his face. Then another. Then another.

Then, slowly, like he couldn’t believe a word you had just said, he licked his lips, asking, “What… the hell are you talking about right now?”

Hold your ground. You had been waiting years to say the words. So why did it feel like your mouth was stuffed full of cotton when you tried to protest?

“Is it the fighting?” He asked.

You shook your head, “No. No, it’s more than just the fighting, Tanimoto. I’m tired– tired of you treating me like shit all of the fucking time,” You paused to take a deep, trembling breath. You wondered briefly if Aki could hear you, submerged in a deep slumber only a couple of feet away. “I’m a person with– with rights and… I won’t– I’m not going to keep living like this.”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat, repeating yourself – albeit much more quietly, “I want a divorce.”

Divorce. Why did it sound so wrong?

He looked as if he felt the same way. Thin lips pulled into a tight scowl, brows furrowed, eyes wide, he opened his mouth – but before the words could come out, the door slid open.

It was Himeno, sporting a warm smile and her signature eyepatch – with a bored-looking Denji in tow. When she recognized you, her eyes lit up. Denji did not appear to share the same sentiment, muttering, “Are we interrupting somethin’?”

Yes.

“No,” You smiled instead. This is my way out. Turning to your husband, you put on a bright smile – the same one you always wore when you played the part of “loving wife”. “He was just about to leave, actually. Right?”

The tension in the room thickened like fog, heavy and unyielding. Your husband stood there, silent and unmoving, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, like a man reeling in a snapping leash, he smoothed his features.

“Right,” he said, his tone unnervingly calm.

He dipped his head in a polite bow, but as he straightened, he leaned in close—too close. His breath was warm against your ear, his voice a quiet blade. “We’re talking about this later,” he muttered, the promise heavy with an unspoken threat.

Then he turned and walked out, his footsteps fading into the hall.

The moment the door closed behind him, your shoulders sagged, and you let out a shaky sigh of relief. For the first time in what felt like hours, you could breathe again. He’s gone.

Why do I feel so light?

The hospital room was sterile and quiet now, the only sound the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft beep of the monitor beside Aki’s bed. The fluorescent lights overhead cast everything in a washed-out, almost dreamlike hue. It felt cold despite the layers of blankets draped over him, and you found yourself wrapping your arms around your torso, trying to ward off the chill.

Aki lay there, pale and unmoving, his face finally free of its usual sharp tension. It should’ve been a relief to see him at peace, but all you could think about was how hard he’d pushed himself to get here. Did you hear that, Aki? you wondered. I finally said it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Denji’s voice breaking the stillness. “What was that all about?” he asked, his wide eyes darting to the door your husband had walked out of moments earlier. “Did you guys finally break up or somethin’?”

“Denji,” Himeno snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut through steel. She perched on the arm of the couch across from you, her gaze flicking between you and Aki. “Read the room, for god’s sake.”

“What? I’m just asking,” Denji muttered, sinking into a chair next to Aki’s bedside with his arms crossed.

You forced a laugh, though it came out thin and hollow. “It’s… a long story. We can talk about it later.”

Himeno studied you for a moment, her sharp eyes softening. “Okay,” she said quietly. “But we’re circling back to this.” Then she sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “You missed one hell of a day today.”

Denji’s mood shifted instantly, his grin wide and boyish. “Oh, yeah! It was crazy! You should’ve seen me—I was slicing through mini-devils left and right!”

“The only thing that was crazy was you,” Himeno corrected, rolling her eyes. “Don’t let him fool you. He was flailing around like a maniac half the time.”

“Who gives a shit how I did it? What matters is that I did it,” Denji shot back, leaning forward. “Tell her about the big one! The giant… uh… whatever it was!”

“The Lunch Devil,” Himeno said grimly, crossing her arms. “It was huge—took out half a block before we even got close. Looked like something out of a nightmare, with all those teeth and—”

“And it kept spitting out smaller devils!” Denji interrupted, his arms flailing for emphasis. “But they weren’t even small. More like dog-sized. They were everywhere. It was like—like—”

“Like an infestation,” Himeno finished dryly. “The thing wasn’t just attacking. It was setting up shop, spreading itself across the area. We had to cut through all the smaller ones just to get a shot at the main body.”

Denji beamed. “But I got the kill shot! I jumped right onto its ugly face and went – BAM! Chainsaws everywhere!” He mimed slashing wildly, complete with exaggerated sound effects.

You couldn’t help but smile faintly at his enthusiasm. “Sounds like it was a mess.”

“That’s an understatement,” Himeno said, her voice dropping. “We lost four people out there. It could’ve been worse, honestly. The thing was stronger than we expected. And smarter.”

Denji’s grin faltered slightly. “Yeah… those guys didn’t stand a chance. It was like the devil knew exactly how to mess with us.”

Himeno nodded, her expression grim. “It was baiting us, drawing us into traps. It knew how to split us up, how to isolate the weaker ones. And once we were scattered…” Her gaze drifted to Aki, and her shoulders slumped.

“He’s alright, at least,” you murmured, your eyes following hers. “Always the hero.”

“Yeah, and now look at him,” Himeno said, her voice softening. “He’s lucky he’s not in worse shape.”

You glanced at Aki again, his face pale against the crisp white of the hospital pillow. He looked fragile in a way that unsettled you. How many more times can he do this before he breaks completely?

Denji shifted in his seat, breaking your train of thought. “It wasn’t all bad, though, right? I mean, we got the thing in the end.”

“We did,” Himeno said, though her voice lacked conviction. “But at what cost?”

The room fell into a heavy silence. You watched Aki’s chest rise and fall with each slow, steady breath, as if anchoring yourself to the rhythm.

You broke the silence with a quiet murmur of, “Can I… talk to you, Himeno?”

After a moment, Himeno turned to you, her expression softening. “‘Course.”

Denji groaned, throwing his head back.

“Go grab a snack or something,” Himeno said, waving him off. “We’ll be back in a minute.”

“Fine, whatever,” Denji muttered, dragging himself out of the chair. His footsteps stomped down the hall, growing fainter with each step.

You motioned for Himeno to follow you a few steps away from Aki’s bedside. The hum of the air conditioning seemed louder now, filling the space as you struggled to find the right words.

“So,” Himeno began, crossing her arms. “What’s going on? Is this about earlier?”

You hesitated, your hands twisting together nervously. Finally, you took a deep breath and said it. “Himeno, I told him I want a divorce.”

Her eyes widened, her jaw dropping slightly. “Wait—what? When did this happen?”

“Just now,” you admitted, your voice quiet. “It’s been building up for a while, but… I finally said it.”

Himeno stared at you, clearly floored. “Holy crap. I mean, good for you, but… wow. What did he say? Did he—was that why he was acting so weird?”

“He didn’t take it well,” you said with a weak laugh. “But I didn’t expect him to.”

Himeno shook her head, still processing. “You’ve been dealing with all that, and then you walk into this mess… Damn. You really can’t catch a break.”

You shrugged, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “I wanted to ask you if I could possibly stay the night. I’m dreading going back to the hotel. He told me he wants to talk more about it, but I don’t know.”

Himeno smiled, and she placed a hand on your shoulder. “Of course you can. We’ll talk more later. No more questions, for now.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly, the knot in your chest loosening just a little.

The two of you turned to Aki, silently watching the rise and fall of his chest, as if that would bring him back.

“For what it’s worth,” Himeno added, her voice gentle, “I think you’re doing the right thing.”

The corner of your mouth lifted in a weak smile. For the first time in a while, you believed it too.

Himeno’s apartment looked exactly like the way you had expected it to look. It was clean, save for a few cases of beer here and there. An open kitchenette – not entirely unlike Aki’s – and a sliding door that led to a balcony. It seemed a little big for just one person.

And, in the middle of it all, you were hunched over a stool at her kitchen island, swirling an empty can of beer around on a coaster. Himeno was opening the takeout bag (Chinese, as per her request), setting little containers onto the counter while you watched her work. She had long since changed out of her Public Safety uniform, having showered and swapped the suffocating suit and tie for a cami top and some gray sleep shorts. She lent you one of her tee shirts and a pair of shorts to wear for the evening. You hadn’t exactly had time to pack.

(You didn’t want to think about going back to the hotel room to retrieve your luggage).

“Steamed Dumplings and White Rice,” She hummed, setting two large cartons down in front of you, along with a pair of cheap bamboo chopsticks – the kind the restaurants gave you for free. She placed two cartons of her own in front of you. Leaning over the table so she could be eye-to-eye. “You want another beer?”

“God, yes,” You sighed.

With an airy laugh, she tugged the refrigerator open and produced two more cans of that wonderful substance that made you feel a little lighter. One for you and one for her.

She popped the cap on her bottle, taking a swig. “So,” She sighed. “Divorce. That’s a serious word. Tell me how it happened.”

“It just kinda… slipped out, I ‘dunno,” You glanced down at your meal, suddenly feeling a lot less keen about eating it. Still, Himeno had treated you to food – something she didn’t have to do. So, feeling obligated to do so, you popped open the carton of rice and the carton of dumplings and dug in. “It’s not that I didn’t mean it though. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. He treats me like shit.”

“I hear ‘ya,” She hummed in response. She popped a piece of chicken into her mouth. “I remember you saying you were thinkin’ about it. What broke the camel’s back?”

Tell her the truth.

You bit the inside of your cheek, finally speaking up about what you had been holding back for so long, “He hit me, Himeno. He’s been getting more and more violent with me.”

Your friend’s eye grew to the size of a saucer. Still, there was something akin to sympathy behind it, and she remained silent.

“I told him about us… About me and Aki,” You added. Already, you could feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “I told him I’d been having an affair, and that we love each other.”

Her lips parted. A moment later, she stuffed a wad of rice between them, and then washed it down with a gulp of beer. “Shit, girl.”

“It had to happen at some point,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “After everything that happened today, I just couldn’t take it anymore. So I came clean.”

“Is that why you started the divorce?” she asked gently.

You nodded, gripping the edge of the counter. “He gave me an ultimatum,” you said bitterly. “Told me to leave Aki. Said if I ever wanted to keep my life in Kyoto, I had to cut ties with him completely.”

“And you said no?”

“Of course I did,” you said firmly, though the memory of his threats still made your stomach churn. “I was scared at first—terrified, really. But then I thought about it. Really thought about it. And I realized… I’d rather die than live without Aki.” You shook your head, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “We’re in love.”

Himeno’s expression softened, a genuine smile breaking through. “I can see that,” she said. “And I really am glad. He needs someone like you in his life. Someone who cares the way you do.”

“You think so?” you asked, your voice tentative.

“I know so,” she said confidently. “I’ve never seen anyone make that boy show as much emotion as you have in such a short time. That’s a talent, chica.” She pointed a chopstick at you before taking another bite. “You did the right thing.”

“I can only hope,” you murmured, the knot in your chest loosening slightly. You took another sip of beer, letting the alcohol ease the lingering tension. “But enough about me. How have you been holding up?”

Himeno shrugged, a playful smile returning to her lips. “I’ve been good. Been obsessed with this soap opera lately. Would you be up to finishing it with me?”

You laughed, the sound lighter than you’d expected. “Fuck yeah.”

“Great,” she said, pushing off the counter and heading for the TV. She crouched on the floor, rummaging through a small stack of DVDs. “No more talk about divorce tonight. The only relationship drama you need to worry about is the drama between Aika and Satoshi.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Who the hell are Aika and Satoshi?”

She grinned, sliding a disc into the player. “You’re about to find out.”

As the screen flickered to life, you leaned back in your stool, letting the warmth of the moment wash over you. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to relax, even if just for a little while. For a moment, things felt like they were the way they had been nearly a decade earlier – just you and Himeno against the world.

When you got the call the next morning at 5 AM that Aki had woken up (and, yes, you had slept with your phone right next to your head), you lept off of the couch and threw one of Himeno’s sweaters on – deciding you would tell her later. You called a taxi only a minute later and, within ten minutes, you were out the door.

Now, walking the halls with your heart pounding in your chest, you couldn’t have felt more awake. A name badge on your chest and your heart in your hands, you tried to remember what room the nurse had told you to find him in. Was it 104? 105?

Who knows. The only thing on your mind right then was the words ‘He’s alive. He’s okay.’ on repeat.

In fact, you continued to repeat those words like a mantra right up until you reached the room at the very end of the stale hallway, secluded from the rest of the hospital rooms on that floor. Room 105.

It was his room. It had to be.

So, with your heartbeat racing a mile a minute, you knocked twice. A moment passed, some fabric shifted on the other side of the door – and you wondered for a moment if you even had the right room. But, then, clear as day, you heard that damned voice.

“Come in.”

It was him.

He’s okay, you thought. He’s okay. He’s okay. He’s okay.

And, obeying his order, you opened the door, peeking your head in. There he was, sitting upright in his hospital bed, hair down and a little messy, donning nothing but a blue hospital gown. His heartbeat was beeping steadily on the monitor next to his bed – a beep-beep sound that soothed you, reminded you that this was all real.

The moment he saw you, his eyes widened. That stoic ‘Captain’ look melted away from his face in a moment’s width, tired gaze softening, as it softened into something much more familiar. (In contrast, the heart rate on the monitor kicked up a few notches – something you couldn’t help but revel in).

“Hey, troublemaker,” He grinned.

And, suddenly, you couldn’t care less about where you were or what you were wearing. You closed the door behind you, practically running towards Aki’s bed and grabbing him by the hand. It felt so good to feel him – his warmth, his liveliness after a whole day of radio silence.

But, before you could reply, his arms were around your waist, tugging you into bed with him until your chest was pressed up against his, legs dangling in the air.

“Aki–” You laughed breathlessly, scrambling for footing before eventually succumbing to him. You climbed further onto the bed (even though you knew you shouldn’t) and collapsed on top of him.

He brought his arms even tighter around you, like a protective jacket, and groaned into your hair, “Missed you so fuckin’ much.”

The two of you stayed there for a moment – bodies smushed together like lovestruck teenagers, feet dangling in the air – lying chest-to-chest.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “I’d kiss you, but I’m thirsty as hell and I’m, like, 90 percent sure they didn’t brush my teeth.”

You smiled up at him, up at his pretty face – smiled so hard your eyes crinkled at the corners. Then, you cupped his face, uttering, “I don’t give a shit. Come here,” and brought him in for a long awaited kiss. It was everything you had imagined and so much more. It was passionate, it was longing, it was love. He breathed color right back into your lungs, filled you with the will you had lacked.

You deepened the kiss, tangling a hand in his hair and–

The steady beeping of his heart monitor picked up to a much quicker pace. You parted from him quickly, worried you had set something off in your haste to make sure he knew how much you missed him. The screen looked normal – and the heart rate slowed back to a normal pace after you spent a moment catching your breath.

“Sorry,” He chuckled. “Got excited.”

With a laugh, you slid off of him. “Are you hurt? How do you feel?”

He groaned, laying his pretty head back against the pillow, “Like hell. Better, now that you’re here, though. Anything happen while I was asleep?”

“I told my husband about us,” you said softly, your voice trembling despite your best efforts.

Aki stiffened. You could practically feel his muscles tense, his whole body going rigid. He leaned back slightly, his tired eyes searching yours. “When?” he asked, his voice measured, but the subtle edge of anxiety was unmistakable.

You swallowed hard, the words catching in your throat. “Yesterday. Right here at your bedside, actually.”

His brows furrowed as he shifted to sit up straighter, ignoring the wince that flickered across his face. “What happened when you told him?”

Your gaze dropped to the blanket pooled around his waist, and you took a steadying breath. “Well… he asked first,” you began. “After that wall blew in, and I thought I was gonna lose you…” Your voice cracked, and you pressed your lips together to steady it. “I was a mess, Aki. I stayed with you until help came. Made sure they got you to the hospital.”

Aki’s hand moved to your knee, his thumb tracing soothing circles as he watched you intently. His silence was patient, but it only made the confession harder.

“He came in later that day,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “After I was discharged. He asked if there was something going on between us.”

“And?” Aki’s voice was low, steady, but the way his hand tightened around yours betrayed the tension he was trying to hide.

You met his eyes, your own brimming with tears. “I told him yes. I told him I was having an affair.”

A sharp exhale escaped him, and he ran a hand through his already-messy hair, his eyes darting to the ceiling as he processed your words. “Shit,” he muttered, shaking his head. “How’d he react?”

A humorless laugh slipped out, your shoulders shaking with the weight of it. “Not well, obviously,” you said. “First thing he did was hit me.”

Aki froze, his gaze snapping back to you. The warmth in his eyes was replaced by a fiery anger that made your chest tighten. Still, ever the great listener, he said nothing, sitting up in his bed.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “And then he told me…” Your voice wavered, and you forced a shaky laugh, trying to keep the tears at bay. “He thinks I can go on living without you. He told me I need to stop seeing you.”

Aki shifted slowly, the sharp inhale of his breath telling you that even this small movement caused him pain. He sat up in the hospital bed, his arms pulling you closer, and before you could protest about him overexerting himself, he buried his face into the crook of your neck. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and the tension in his body melted away as he held you like you were his lifeline.

“No, we can’t,” he murmured, his voice muffled but resolute. His arms tightened around you, his nose brushing against your collarbone. “We can’t.”

“I know,” you whispered, your hands finding their way to his hair. You cradled the back of his head, your fingers threading gently through the soft strands as you pressed a kiss to the crown of it. He smelled like antiseptic and something distinctly him, something grounding and familiar that made your heart ache. “I’d rather die.”

The weight of those words hung between you, the truth of them sinking deeper than either of you wanted to admit. Aki didn’t reply, just held you a little tighter, his shoulders trembling faintly under your hands. For a moment, you stayed like that, the two of you lost in the fragile stillness of the room, the sound of his heartbeat monitor the only thing grounding you in reality.

You broke the silence, your voice trembling as you spoke. “I’m scared, Aki. I’m frightened. I don’t know what— I don’t know what he’s capable of.”

His hold on you shifted slightly, his arms loosening just enough for him to pull back and meet your gaze. His eyes, sharp and soft all at once, searched for yours. There was a flicker of guilt there—guilt for not being able to protect you from everything.

“Don’t be scared,” he said, his voice low and firm, yet laced with an aching tenderness. His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing gently against your cheeks as he leaned in closer. “You’ve got me, now. I’ll keep you safe. Promise.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. “You won’t be much help like this,” you managed, nodding toward the IV in his arm and the fresh bandages peeking out from under the hospital gown. “Plus… I crashed at Himeno’s last night. I can’t run away from him forever.”

For the first time since the conversation began, Aki’s lips curved into a faint grin, one that you could feel as his nose brushed against your neck again. “I’m supposed to be discharged today,” he murmured, his voice teasing but gentle. His arms slid around your waist again, pulling you flush against him. “Come stay with me.”

"Then don't," he whispered, his breath warm against your lips. He tasted like cigarette smoke, beer and mint gum – a flavor so utterly addicting that you couldn't seem to get enough of it. "Don't think. Let me take you back to your room."

You hesitated, the reality of the situation hitting you. This was crossing a line, a line you couldn't uncross. But as you looked into his eyes, saw the same turmoil reflected back at you, you felt your resolve crumble.

You were tired of pretending.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rain. It was a final, resigned acceptance, the last nail in the coffin of your restraint.

“Aki…” you started, but he cut you off with a soft hum. “I have all of my shit at the hotel.”

“We can buy more,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You bit your lip, shaking your head slightly. “There’s that get-together later this week,” you began, your voice trailing off as you considered the fallout, the logistics, the mess of it all.

Aki’s hand left your waist, his fingers brushing against your cheek and coaxing you to look at him. His touch was light, almost hesitant, but the intensity in his gaze left no doubt about how serious he was. “You’ll be with me,” he said softly. “I won’t let him hurt you.” His thumb traced the curve of your cheekbone as his other hand slid back to your waist. “Stop worrying about him. Come home with me.”

The words hit you like a memory, a flash of that first night when you’d whispered something so similar to him. The thought made your throat tighten, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the words to respond. Your mind raced through the implications, the risks, the dangers—but when you looked into his eyes, all of that faded into the background.

“I can’t live without you, Aki,” you whispered, your voice cracking as the weight of the truth settled over you.

He nodded slowly, his hand sliding back to the nape of your neck as he pressed his forehead to yours. “You don’t have to,” he murmured. “I’m right here.”

The tears you’d been holding back spilled over, and you melted into his embrace, letting the steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his arms remind you of what mattered most.

He’s right here.

a/n: She held her ground.... I WANTED TO END IT ON A HAPPY NOTE after the way i left yall hanging last time lolllllll. the plot will be getting thicka and thicka and the drama will be getting juicier from here on out. stay tuned for that! (Also, this is the longest fanfic ive ever written officially LMFAOAO idk how i thought this shit was gonna be a short story....) anyway!! stay safe, i hope you are all having a wonderful sangsgibing if you celebrate. mama loves yall xxx

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#shameless!#aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #hayakawa aki x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #aki fluff #aki smut #denji #aki hayakawa

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tipsynight0 · 2 months ago

Text

The predators prey

Paring - Jeff the killer x (y/n)

Synopsis- On a stormy night, Jeff playfully harasses (y/n) while she reads, sparking a chaotic chase that leads to a muddy showdown.

Words - 900

Author's note - hiii!! I’m back lovelies, it was Canadian thanksgiving so I was working and celebrating. Thank you for all the love and support, I’ll be off work for the next month so send in some requests!

Rain pattered against the window, each drop sliding down the glass in uneven paths, while the harsh wind rattled the hinges of the old house. Inside, the warmth of the room stood in stark contrast to the storm outside. Jeff lay sprawled beneath his plush comforter, resting against a pile of pillows, his gaze flicking toward (y/n), who was engrossed in a book, the soft rustling of the pages the only sound cutting through the storm.

Jeff’s restlessness was apparent. A whole day of doing nothing, lounging around, wasn’t his style. The need for the hunt, for the thrill of a chase, itched at his mind. His fingers twitched as he glanced over at (y/n), who was still absorbed in her novel, seemingly indifferent to his growing impatience.

With a wicked smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, Jeff reached over and bent the corner of her page. He felt her body tense beside him, but she said nothing, merely adjusted her posture and continued reading as if his antics were inconsequential. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, clearly displeased by her calm demeanor.

He leaned in, his chin almost brushing her shoulder as his eyes darted over the words of the romance novel she was so focused on. A single line caught his attention, and his brow furrowed. “His abs were like mountain peaks as sweat dripped down them, god Kane was a delicious man…”

Without hesitation, Jeff snatched the book from her hands, raising it high out of her reach. “What the hell are you reading, (y/n)?” he asked, eyebrows knitted together in a mix of confusion and mild disgust. His long legs draped over hers, effectively trapping her beneath him as she struggled to reclaim her book.

Her face flushed, not just from frustration but also from embarrassment as she reached up, attempting to snatch it back. “For fuck's sake, Jeff, give me the damn book!” she growled, her voice edged with annoyance.

But Jeff was having too much fun now. He stood up, towering over her as he read aloud from the cringeworthy prose. “‘And then he pinned me against the wall, his muscular thighs holding me in place,’” Jeff groaned in exasperation, his tone mocking. “You’re reading porn,” he accused, tearing a page from the book with deliberate slowness.

(y/n)’s face turned a furious shade of red, both from anger and humiliation. She lunged forward, her small fists pounding against his chest in protest. “That was my favorite book, you asshole!” she shouted, her voice shaking with rage.

Jeff stared down at her, the glare in his eyes both predatory and amused. Her defiance only fueled his urge to torment her more. “Maybe the guy could pin you against a wall, huh?” he teased, but before (y/n) could fire back with a retort, Jeff lunged for her again.

But she was quick, slipping from his grasp like water through his fingers. With a sharp turn, she darted toward the bedroom door, fumbling with the handle as Jeff's laughter echoed behind her. She barely made it through the door and down the stairs before his heavy footsteps thudded behind her, each one a reminder that he was gaining on her.

“You think you can just say that shit and get away with it? You’re going to regret it!” Jeff called after her, his voice laced with both threat and amusement. His footsteps echoed off the walls as they sped through the house. The other proxies, well used to their antics, barely spared them a glance as (y/n) bolted through the living room and out the back door.

The cold night air hit them both as they tore across the wet grass, their bare feet sinking into the mud. (y/n) ran with everything she had, but Jeff was relentless, his long legs quickly closing the distance between them. Finally, with one last lunge, he caught her by the back of her sweater, pulling her to the ground. They both slid through the slick mud, (y/n) letting out a screech as Jeff's victorious laughter rang out in the night.

“Oh, the things I’m going to do to you for reading that garbage,” he growled playfully, his voice low and dangerous as he leaned down, his calloused hand brushing over her jaw. “Just be ready, doll face.”

Still breathless from the chase, (y/n) looked up at him, her heart pounding in her chest. With a sudden burst of defiance, she scooped up a handful of mud and smeared it across his face. A mischievous smile tugged at her lips as Jeff blinked, momentarily stunned.

His expression darkened, but there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Rubbing the mud back into her face, he leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. “I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he rasped. “I’ll show you what it feels like to be pinned against a wall. Rope, zip ties… maybe even a meat hook.”

(y/n) gave him a cheeky smile, despite her flush of embarrassment. “Yeah, whatever,” she muttered, her heart racing as she stared up at him.

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lovegalor333 · 2 months ago

Text

fresh start

part nine (chapter 25) previous part • my masterlist

word count: 2.8k

content warnings: none!

Lily

Paige and the team left early yesterday morning for their game at Minnesota today. Travelling for game days, unfortunately, wasn't part of my job so Kayla, Madison, Hannah, Kelsey and I were all lounging on the couch, each tucked under a blanket, excitedly waiting for tip off.

After agreeing to go home with Paige for Thanksgiving, it was decided that I would travel there after classes finished tomorrow and Paige would pick me up from the airport. After Thanksgiving, Paige had to fly directly to the Cayman Islands for a tournament so I'd be flying back to campus alone.

Now the season had started, I had to get used to Paige being away more often, I didn't like it but it was inevitable and it just means that the time we do spend together is even more special.

"Are you all packed for Minnesota, Lils?" Madison asks me from her place at the end of the couch.

"Pretty much, just need to add the last few bits but I'll do that before I leave in the morning." I tell my roommate.

"I can't believe you're going home with your girlfriend for Thanksgiving break! Who would have thought it?" Kelsey says from beside me, leaning her head on my shoulder, "Single Sisters was extremely short lived." She laughs referring to the pact we made when we first met.

"I know! It feels weird but also right at the same time." I say thinking about my relationship with Paige and how it was never my intention to have a girlfriend again so soon but life and love works in mysterious ways and I'm so glad it worked out like this.

The conversation faded out as the game between UConn and Minnesota started and all of our attention was fully focused on the TV as familiar faces in white jerseys moved about the court.

Kayla had kindly offered to drive me to the airport to catch my flight and we had just arrived.

"Thank you for dropping me, K." I say as she pulls into departures parking.

"No worries, have a safe flight and enjoy Minnesota." She smiles her signature smile and I hug her over the console before getting out of the car.

After leaving Kayla, I immediately put my headphones on and shuffle my playlist. Controversially, I really like airports. I would always arrive earlier than necessary to ensure I didn't need to rush. I enjoyed picking out snacks for the journey and most of all, I loved knowing that I could be in my own world, listening to music, staring out of the window for the entirety of the upcoming flight.

After passing through security and buying my favourite snacks, Jolly Ranchers and Gold Fish, I just sat and patiently waited at my gate for boarding to begin.

hi pretty girl

have a safe flight, cant wait to see you

love you

hi p

boarding is just about to start

ive missed you so much

see you soon, i love you

I smiled at the text conversation between Paige and me. I felt extremely grateful for how my life had done a complete one eighty spin from a few months ago. I was happy, I had a beautiful girlfriend who loved me without reservations, I had genuine friends that supported me, I had a job that I adored and I wanted to be alive and stay alive. If I could go back at tell past Lily that, I know for a fact, she'd call bullshit.

The flight was quick, less than three hours and once we were up in the air it felt like we began our descent almost immediately.

I had collected my luggage, it wasn't big as I was only here for a few days, and was making my way through arrivals where Paige said she would be waiting.

"Oh my god." I say under my breath as Paige finally comes into view. She's stood a few feet away from me, looking as beautiful as ever. Her hair is down, tucked behind both ears and from the slight wave in it, I can tell it's been recently washed and left to dry naturally. She's dressed casually, in a grey tracksuit and Air Max 95s but it's the huge bouquet of flowers in her hand that has my jaw on the floor.

It takes a moment for Paige to register that I'm walking towards her but when she does, her face breaks out into a big grin and she takes the few strides needed to close the gap between us.

"Hi babe." I say melting into my girlfriends hug, taking in her scent that I've been deprived of the last few days.

"Hi my pretty girl. How was the flight?" Paige asks with me still in her arms.

"Super quick but I'm tired." I respond. Admittedly I'd not slept well the past few days, sleeping alone, without Paige wasn't something I was used to, so her being gone definitely felt foreign.

"You can sleep in the car. Oh and these are for you, obviously." She says handing me the bunch of flowers. They were a mix of pink and white dahlias with the odd stem of leaves, they were beautiful.

One thing about Paige, she was the best flower giver. She knew the perfect time to get them and every bouquet I've received from her and has been filled with the most pretty flowers.

Paige took my bags and I carried the flowers as I followed her to her car. She opened the passenger door for me before loading my bags into her trunk. I reached into the back seats and carefully placed my flowers down.

"Here." Paige said getting into the driver's seat handing me a blanket. Her blanket. Her favourite blanket that she slept with every night in Connecticut.

"Thank you." I say covering myself over and resting my head on the window. The blanket smelt like Paige and even though she wasn't, it felt like she was hugging me, it was comforting.

One of Paiges hands rests on my leg as the other steered the car as we began driving to her family home. My eyes fluttered shut, feeling safe and content and most of all loved beyond belief.

Paige

Having Lily here in the house I grew up in felt natural as soon as we stepped inside. My heart warmed watching her interact with my family, especially Drew.

They were currently stood side by side at the kitchen counter, sleeves rolled up to their elbows as they took it in turns pouring in various ingredients and mixing together the cake batter.

I kept my distance and just observed as the two most important people in my life bonded and got to know each other.

"Paigey actually ruined Thanksgiving last year." My little brother tells Lily and she laughs.

"Really? What did she do?"

"She said she was going to make the best cake ever and nobody was allowed to help and I didn't eat any candy all day because she said her cake was so good." Drew reminisced on last year, "And then we tried it and it was actually the worse cake ever! I had to spit it in the trash."

"Hey, it's not my fault I confused the sugar with salt." I interject, poking my brother in the side causing him to giggle and in turn fling his arms up to protect himself, but as he does a dollop of cake batter flies off the spoon and lands on Lilys face.

Once Drew realises what he's done he quickly apologises to Lily but I can't hold back my laughter.

"It's OK Drew, no harm done." Lily says with a sweet smile but when her eyes flick to me, she's glaring intensely. "Funny, Bueckers?" She asks raising her brows.

"Just a bit, yeah." I say still giggling.

"Oh OK, so you won't mind if I just," she dips her hand into the batter mixture and before I can register what she's about to do, she smears it across my cheek, "do that."

As quick as my giggles stop, Lilys and Drews start and I'm too busy focused on Lily to notice Drew also dipping his hand into the mixture before wiping in down my arm.

"Oh I get it. It's two against one." I say slightly offended my own brother would choose Lily over me but at the same time loving it because them having a good relationship means a whole lot to me.

"Drew, I think we should run." Lily says being able to read my facial expression perfectly and both of them set off running away from me but I grab the full bowl and go after them.

"I'm literally an athlete, I'm going to catch you guys." I say as I follow them.

Drew is running at full speed whilst screaming and dodging pieces of furniture so he doesn't trip and Lily isn't far behind him, also dodging furniture but laughing so much it's slowing her down.

I change my tatic and go back on myself knowing that Drew and Lily will walk or...run into me and I'm right.

"Ha! Got you!" I triumph as Drew unknowingly runs right into my path and I scoop him up with one swift movement and with my hand already covered in cake mix, I swipe it across his face.

"Lily, save me!" Drew shouts in my arms and he kicks and wriggles his body trying to get me to release him.

Lily's by our side seconds later, "Don't worry, I've got you!" She reassures and lunges for the bowl picking up the spoon and flicking it in my direction, sending mixture straight into my face.

"OK that's it!" I say adjusting Drew so he's over my shoulder and I run full speed at Lily.

She lets out a screech but she can't move fast enough so I manage to hook my free arm around her waist, "Now everyone say Paige is the best." I say gripping onto both of them.

"Paige is the best." They both mummble knowing they've been beaten.

"And Paige always wins, she never loses." I try my luck.

"OK, that's pushing it P." Lily says and she manages to wriggle out of my grasp so I place Drew down too.

"Truce?" Lily asks out stretching her hand, "Truce." I reply shaking her hand and then my brothers.

We salvage what's left of the cake batter and pour it into a tin before it goes into the oven to bake.

"OK, go clean yourself up buddy." I say to Drew and point him in the direction of the bathroom before Lily and I start to tidy the kitchen.

"He really likes you, you know?" I say to Lily as she washes dishes at the sink and I wipe down the surfaces.

"I love him." Lily says and my heart bursts, "Being an only child, I feel like I missed out on something. I wish I had siblings to have these moments with."

"You can have these moments with us. My family is your family, Lils." I say going over and standing behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist and rest my head on her shoulder, "Thank you, P. I love you." She says spinning around so we're face to face.

“I love you." I lean in and press a kiss to her lips, "Although, you're slightly sticky." I say as I pull away.

I pick up a cloth, "Come here." I motion for Lily to come over to the kitchen island, she does and I lift her up onto the counter.

I gently wipe away any left over batter residue on Lilys face and from my place inbetween her legs, I'm taken back to the night in my bathroom after the frat party.

I think about how much Lily and I have been through since then and how much my love for her has grown and I can only hope it continues that way.

"What are you thinking about beautiful?" Lily asks cupping my face with her hands.

"You. Me. Us. How much I love you and want you in my life forever."

"You've got me Paige. In everyway." She says pulling me closer and crashing her lips to mine. My hands instinctively rest on her thighs and slowly make their way up to her waist. I feel her groan into my mouth at my touch so I deepen the kiss, making it needier, sloppier. Lily's legs are around my waist and her hands are in my hair and it's a feeling I want to bottle and save for later because I know my little brother will be back in the room at any moment.

I reluctantly pull away, "Drew will be back any second." I say and right on cue the boy walks back into the kitchen.

He looks at Lily and me and the way we're positioned, Lily still perched on the counter top and me inbetween her legs, hands on her thighs and his head tilts to one side and I know he's about to say something.

"Paigey, are you going to marry Lily and have babies?" He asks full of innocence but Lily and I almost choke.

"We're still really young right now buddy." I try and answer as diplomatically as possible.

"What about when you're bigger, like mom and dad?" He continues to push the topic.

"Well, don't tell anyone," Drew nods rapidly in agreement as I speak, "but if Lily will have me, I'll happily put a ring on it and make her a mommy." I say cheekily squeezing Lilys thigh, earning a shove from her.

"Your sister is one of a kind, you know that Drew?" Lily ask jumping off the counter.

"Uh huh." Drew agrees and I smile as we all make our way into the living room to inevitably watch another cheesy holiday movie.

Lily

Paiges dad and stepmom had filled the table with the most delicious looking and smelling food I'd even seen. Thanksgiving dinner was not like this back home in Boston, in fact if my mom could avoid cooking all together, she would. I spent a lot of Thanksgivings at Emmas house and Christmases too, as a family we weren't very festive but the Bueckers were the complete opposite.

Paige was sat inbetween Drew and me with their parents opposite us, we each had a small glass of wine - Drew excluded and Paiges dad, Bob raised his glass, "It's tradition that we say something we're thankful for before dinner. Lily, as our guest, would you like to start?"

I look to Paige, slightly put on the spot but I don't know why because I know what I'm thankful for. It's easy, I don't even need to think about it. Paige sends me a small smile and a quick nod and I pick up my glass, "I'm thankful for my life right now and everyone in it. A few months ago things were very different and it was hard for me to see an end to that but going to Connecticut, changed everything. It saved my life. I wanted a fresh start and I got that. I'm thankful for all of the beautiful friends I've made, I'm thankful for the opportunities I get everyday to learn and grow and I'm especially thankful to be sat here. I'm thankful for being welcomed in your family and home as if I've always been a part of it. It truly means the world to me."

Under the table, Paiges hand squeezes my thigh in support and she leans over pressing a kiss to my cheek.

"I think that deserves a toast," Paiges stepmom says and everyone raises their glass of wine, even Drew picks up his juice, "to Lilys fresh start. May she continue to grow and blossom."

We all clink our glasses together and I have to fight back tears.

"And let it be known," Bob says, "anyone who makes my daughter as happy as you is always welcome in this family."

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