#black white bright red my best friend

[jks1uv]

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑂𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝐸𝑥𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 ; mark grayson / invincible

summary: in every universe, mark grayson turns into his father and seals his destiny as a true viltrumite. what if things are different this time?

pairing: fem!reader x mark grayson.

trope: childhood best friends to lovers + fate gives love a chance.

genre: fluff + angst + slow-burn romance + hurt / comfort + some comedy.

warnings‼️: crude language + spoilers for s3 (mark’s variants) + amber & eve never get w mark but r goated wingwomen & friends for reader + william, rick & rex r goated wingmen for mark + 2 jealous!mark moments + the tiniest moment of tension + multiverse talk + a mention of the chicago incident feat. scott / powerplex + REX LIVES 🗣️‼️🔥🔥 + a short & sweet kiss scene.

word count: 9,975.

random disclaimerrr: when eve said “you don’t deserve this” 😞 like he always just out here suffering 💔 kate, immortal, cecil & scott pmo so bad like bruh can y’all just pls stfu pls 🙏🏽 I CANNOT BELIEVE MY GOAT REX IS DEAD LIKE BRUH HOW 😭😞💔 but the 2 ppl majority of the fandom hates get their happy ending… mkay… happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2025 @jks1uv

Mark Grayson has always liked you.

It was the first day of school, 2nd grade homeroom. The first day of school was always nerve wracking but this time was different.

His desk was next to you per the seating chart and you were the last kid to come in.

You were wearing a black t-shirt with some white bows on it and sky blue jeans with pink flowers embroidered on the pockets. White twinkle toes with pink and purple rhinestones.

Your hair was styled in 2 ponytails with cute bows on the bands.

Your eyes bright and a shy smile on your lips.

“Hi.” You bashfully said to him.

“Hi.” He said back in a daze.

His seven year old heart was fluttering and he was as red as a tomato when he realized it was you! You were the girl whose empty desk he was seated next to!

You always shared homeroom, if not, recess with him in elementary school.

Then came middle school, where you had at least 2 classes with him.

High school was a bit easier as you saw him 3-4 times a day, and that’s not including clubs or other extracurricular activities.

He spent 11 years like that. Seeing you in class, in the hallways, at lunch or after school.

Your relationship with him never wavered. Your character was still the same even after new chapters and opportunities for development.

He’s endured some insane shit, but he’s so happy the one constant in his life remained consistent.

“You still have a crush on her?!”

“Shut up, William. Or do you want the whole world to know.” Mark chides.

William snorts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world (it is). “The whole world already knows, it’s just your dumbass that’s somehow oblivious.”

“Give the lover boy a break.” Amber lightly teases.

Mark sighs and rubs his face with his hands, trying to hide the redness creeping up on him without his consent.

“Is that her?” Rick points towards Mark’s dream girl.

But what he forgot to mention was the living explosion (literally) walking alongside you.

“What’s he doing here?” Eve’s surprised Rex decided to step foot on college campus willingly.

William subtly side-eyes Mark and makes a desperate attempt to hold in his laughter by squeezing Rick’s hand.

Mark slowly stands, a confused look on his face.

“I’ll… go find out.” He says it like a question, like he’s unsure if that’s what he should do.

Amber and Eve share a knowing look.

“You’re funny.” You say as you catch your breath.

Rex shrugs nonchalantly and smirks. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

You’re shaking your head and are about to say something when you see Mark in front of you.

“Mark.” Your eyes crinkle as you smile.

You go in for your usual hug and Mark accepts it.

Unbeknownst to you that he’s making wide eyes among other facial expressions in a desperate attempt to make contact with the other male.

The hug lasts for a second longer and you ignore the butterflies that swarm your belly, deducing that he probably just wanted to hug you a bit longer.

No big deal you think as you’re screaming inside the longer you feel Mark’s arms around your waist.

When you meet Mark’s face, he allows himself to give you a tight-lipped smile.

“Mark, this is-”

“Rex! Heyy, how’s it going?” He chuckles nervously and rubs the back of his neck.

Your eyebrows furrow and you tilt your head a bit. “Yeah… wait, you guys know each other?”

Rex is enthusiast with his reply. “Fuck yeah! This is my best bro.”

He slaps Mark’s back with a confident grin and the “bro” laughs awkwardly.

You know, one of those ‘ha ha ha’ type laughs.

“Okay. So, um, Mark?”

“Yeah?” Aaand his voice cracks.

You politely ignore it but Mark wants to die inside.

“I was wondering if you were still down to go to the mall?”

Mark knows you’re attentive and take your friendships seriously, which isn’t old news. But he can’t help feeling special that’s you remembered a thought from a couple days prior.

“Only if you’ll buy me boba.”

Mark never lets you buy him anything if he can help it, and that’s how it’s always been.

You insist, he’ll deny; but that doesn’t mean his sentiment isn’t nice.

You blink and softly smile at his bargain. “Deal.”

Rex hums thoughtfully, a hand at his chin and his gaze on the sky.

“Can I join? I don’t have anything going onnn~” He suggests in a sing-song manner.

“No, you can’t!” Mark suddenly yells.

You look at Mark with furrowed brows. “Mark, don’t be rude.”

“Yeah, Mark, don’t be rude.” Rex repeats with a sly expression.

Mark deeply exhales through his nose and puts on a fake smile. “Rex, can I talk to you? Alone.”

“Sure!”

He follows Mark about 15 steps away from you.

You decide to sit down on a bench nearby and watch some TikTok to pass the time.

“Hey, so, um- quick question: what the hell are you doing here?”

Rex scoffs. “What, I can’t come visit my bro?”

Mark quirks an eyebrow and crosses his arms, unimpressed.

Rex puts his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll be honest. I was here to talk to you about Cecil,” He looks over at you and sighs dramatically.

“But?” Mark presses when he sees Rex eyeing you.

“I see a hot girl and I can’t help myself, you know?” He smirks knowing he’ll rile Mark up and get the exact reaction he wants.

Mark immediately gets in his line of sight, making Rex back up a bit from the fast and unforgiving wind.

“Woah, man! A little warning next time before you almost blow me away?”

Mark ignores him. “Don’t call her that.”

The truth is, Rex came to campus with a purpose.

Mark never talks about you, but Eve may have let your name slip into conversation a few times.

Rex may be aloof and jerk-ish but he’ll be serious when it’s time.

He’s seen the way Mark’s face changed every time Eve mentioned you; his head would tilt slightly, he’d have a small, unnoticeable smile on his lips.

Rex suspected a crush and he was right! Of course he was, look at the way he’s being defensive of you.

There was just one problem, he didn’t know how you looked. He asked Eve and she was suspicious, but when he revealed his own suspicions, she indulged him.

So, the two of them made a plan with Amber, William and Rick; Operation: Get Mark To Man Up and Admit His Feelings Before You Slip Away.

- FLASHBACK -

“She’s wearing a PINK t-shirt with ripped blue jeans. Oh, and a black backpack.” William directs.

“Pink shirt, black backpack, ripped blue jeans. Got it.”

“PINK as in the brand, not the color.” Amber reminds.

“Wait, what? So what color is the shirt?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s dark green..? And the logo is an even darker shade. ” Eve remembers.

Rex is so unimpressed.

“So, let me get this straight; she’s wearing a shirt from the brand PINK, but it’s just dark green?”

“I’d say you’re on the right track.” Rick chimes.

“This shit is ridiculous. I mean, seriously. Why can’t you girls just wear stuff that warrant normal descriptions?”

“Shut up, Rex.” Amber and Eve say simultaneously.

- FLASH FORWARD -

“Alright, her unwanted, meddling knight in shining armor.”

Mark is about to defend himself against that true baseless allegation when William and Rick find him.

“What’re we gossiping about?”

There’s a glint in William’s eyes, the kind you don’t miss if you’re paying attention to the very specific lilt in his tone.

“Oh, I was just telling Marky boy here,”

Mark side-eyes Rex at the ridiculous nickname.

“How he’s Y/n’s unwanted, meddling knight in shining armor.”

William claps his hands together. “That’s actually an accurate assessment.”

Mark’s offended. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

Rick clears his throat as a guise to hide the very subtle laugh itching his throat.

“Sassy.” William says impressed in his best friends comeback skills.

Rex gets a phone call and excuses himself, giving William a crisp high-five and Rick a chest bump.

“Go get your Juliet, Romeo!” He cheers.

William shakes his head as he guffaws at the man.

“Dude, he's hilarious. How come you've never introduced him to us before?”

“Do I really have to answer that?”

William rolls his eyes at him.

“Anyways. When are you gonna tell Y/n you love her, again?”

“William!” Mark whines.

Rick smiles and expands his thinking.

“He meant to say, you should tell her soon. Before she's with someone else and leaves you to collect the pieces of your broken heart.”

“Not gonna lie, that's exactly what he needs to hear right now.”

Mark can't lie either. “Yeah. You kinda ate with that.”

William cringes and Rick winces with embarrassment.

“Hey! So, uhh, never say that again. Hope this helps.” William makes a finger heart.

“Wha- but I used the phrase correctly! Oh, come on guys, seriously?”

- MEANWHILE, WITH AMBER & EVE -

Amber and Eve thought it’d be a good idea to have a quick chat with you while you were waiting on Mark.

They casually brought up relationships and basically implied that ‘men ain’t shit’, but you disagree with that attitude.

“I dunno... Mark’s a good guy.”

“Oh yeah, for sure! Mark’s one of the good ones.”

Eve nods along to Amber’s statement.

She reminisced on her fair share with toxic relationships. She deliberately left out how it was with Rex but that’s okay, you don’t need to know that…

“Are you and Mark..?”

You feel your cheeks warm at the thought but you’d be lying if you deny your feelings for him.

“No.” You state with your head down and hands in your lap, playing with a ripped thread on your jeans.

“Huh. That’s a shame.” Eve comments.

That gets your attention.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just that you and Mark seem…”

“Ideal.” Amber completes smoothly.

Your wide eyes and mouth agape give you away.

“You've never thought about him like that?”

You have, but how do you admit this to Mark’s coworker and friend without it getting back to him?

You think Amber and Eve are cool, they’re nice to you; but they're more Mark’s friends.

To you, they're friends of a friend.

Amber senses your hesitation and sat down next to you.

“We won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Eve locks her lips with an imaginary key and throws it away.

That elicits a small laugh out of you, making you feel a bit more confident to share your secret.

You look over and see Mark and Rex still talking, now joined by William and Rick.

You contemplate for a moment before admitting it.

“Yeah.” You breathe out.

Eve hums in thought. “Let me guess, you don’t want to say anything in case it’ll fuck up the friendship?”

You gasp lightly at her spot-on description. “How’d you know?!”

She just shrugs nonchalantly and Amber bites her tongue to point out how obvious the entire situation is.

“I do like him, a lot... but what if he doesn’t feel the same? I would've ruined something special for something selfish and it would stay with me forever.”

You rant to the 2 girls you’re closest with and somehow, it feels right. You dismiss the thought of them turning out like the average mean girls in a teenage rom-com.

“But what if he does like you back?” Eve proposes.

“Then he’ll have to make the first move.” You shrug obviously.

“I know that’s right.”

You feel giddy from Amber’s approval.

She’s always been the type to keep it short and sweet but once you get her talking? She’ll always keep it real.

“We gotta go but we’ll see you later?”

Eve's already planning on the next hangout because she likes you enough to wanna help. She doesn’t like a lot of people so consider yourself special!

“Oh! Uh- yeah! Sure, that works with me.”

“It’s settled then.”

“See ya, Y/n.”

Coincidentally, you see the boys leave, leaving Mark to come to you.

“Shall we?”

“We shall.”

“Just let me try it.” Mark whines.

You shook your head and stood your ground. “It'll be gone in under ten seconds.”

He gasps dramatically, a hand to the heart like a lady of the opera. “You don't have faith in me?! I am a superhero-”

“I'm sure that's what they say.”

Your sarcasm isn’t foreign but he grows quiet at the remark.

It just slipped out so easily, without care or regard. You immediately try to make it right.

“I’m sorry, Mark.”

“No, no. It’s okay. You didn’t mean it like that.”

Ever the sweetheart but you refuse.

“No, it isn’t.” You stop walking. “I was careless with what I said and it’s not right.”

He looks at you with appreciation and gives you a smile. “Thank you, Y/n. It feels nice to be seen as I am.”

That both warms and saddens your heart.

You know how much he’s been through and even though you’ll never truly understand, you know he can still count on you. You’ll be there for him and that’s gotta mean something.

“Of course.”

You and Mark spend the next hour chatting and idly checking out things in the stores.

You wander into the dress and gown section and are completely in awe of the collection. Every color you can think of in every style: silky, thigh cut, halter top, strapless.

Your hands run through the material and you’re reminded of the spring formal coming up soon.

Not everyone gets the chance of going but you have a friend who extended the courtesy of inviting you and a plus one.

You recall the last time you went to a dance: your senior year of high school's prom. It was memorable. You were a part of a small group that went together; consisting of your friends.

You took photos with Mark and danced with him for a bit but not like anything you wished. There's nothing romantic about screaming club anthem lyrics while getting twerked on but since it was Mark's ass, you didn’t complain.

That was the first and last time he accepted drinks from William, by the way.

You chuckle quietly to yourself in memory of that glorious night when Mark comes up behind you.

"You ready to go or do you wanna try some of them on?"

You take another look at the gorgeous dresses and think.

Mark's hoping you say yes.

He won't admit it anytime soon and despite him already thinking you're the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, prom night solidified that for him.

You had him starstruck.

His hear stuttered, adrenaline rushed through his veins and conjured up a swarm of butterflies in his stomach.

SImply put, every feeling and action that describes a man in awe of a pretty lady was an accurate depiction of him.

“Nah, maybe some other time.” You decide.

Mark nods, looking forward to the future dress tryouts. “Okay.”

Later, you have dinner with Mark, Oliver and Debbie.

Mark flew out and brought home some authentic pasta and garlic bread from Italy.

You rolled your eyes playfully and claimed he was being “extra” but reevaluated your statement when you thought about it.

If you could move that fast, you'd go to another country to have their finest food as well.

“It's so good to have you, honey.”

Debbie was always so nice to you, it made you feel happy and proud of yourself knowing someone's mom wholeheartedly accepts your presence in their kids life.

“It's good to be here.”

“Are you gonna stay the night?!” The purple little boy asked full of hope.

You didn't want to let him down but you had no choice.

“I'm sorry, Oliver, but not tonight.” You ruffle his hair and give him an apologetic smile.

You know he's bummed out when he doesn't sound that infectious laugh and tell you you're messing up his hair.

“Oh.”

You feel Mark's gaze on you and when you look up, he offers a sympathetic smile.

“I can stay until it's time for you to sleep.”

You know you've got him, it's an offer he can't refuse.

He's all smiles now and hugs you by the waist, his head laying on your chest.

You smile and hug him back, your head laying on his.

Mark cleans the table and Oliver takes out the trash while you help Debbie with the dishes.

“It doesn't matter how many times I say “no”, does it?”

You hum and shake your head. “Nope.”

You make small talk while you dry after she scrubs and rinses. About college, your plans after college, Mark.

“What about him?” You wonder.

“I mean, how has be been since...”

You see a look of helplessness on her face.

Debbie may be his mother but even she is not immune to the conflict of secrecy in her son's life.

You instantly feel bad.

Mark always tells you everything but to have his own mom ask you things about her son makes the situation complex.

You turn your head over your shoulder and see Mark playing a video game with his baby brother.

When Mark told you about Nolan, what happened to them on Thraxa and the events that unfolded afterwards, you didn't know how to respond.

As if hearing Nolan reveal his plans for Earth and call Debbie a “pet” wasn't heartbreaking enough, you were there with Debbie when Mark was brutally assaulted by his own father.

Then you hear of Nolan's second family he while the first one was still trying to keep it together and deal with the devastating aftermath of the biggest betrayal.

You almost cried when Mark broke down about Angstrom Levy hurting Debbie and Oliver.

You were out of the country on a field trip with your classmates when that happened. Devastated was an understatement for how you felt to hear both Mark and Debbie in the hospital from William.

Mark shamefully admitted to killing Angstrom, thinking that would sever the bond between you two. He expected you to be afraid of him, no matter how awful he’d feel about doing that to you.

It was the total opposite, you embraced him and let him cry on your shoulder. You let him feel everything but you also let him feel your hand in his.

You looked him in the eyes and told him that he did what he had to do and if killing Angstrom was the solution, then so be it.

“Mark told me everything. From seeing Mr. Grayson—”

You see a flash of hurt in Debbie's eyes at the mention of his name and almost forget that before he was known as Omni-Man, he was Mr. Grayson. He was Mark's dad.

“—again and about Oliver. Up until Angstrom and how the last thing he did was hurt you and Oliver.”

Debbie drys her hands and looks out of the window above the sink.

You can tell she’s disassociating. Her eyes seem so far away and crestfallen.

You don’t know if she’s getting much sleep but you also can’t imagine getting any if you were her.

You put a hand on her shoulder and she’s visibly shaken out of her thoughts.

“He’s gonna be okay, and so are you.”

She looks at you like you’ve lit up a candle at the end of a very dark tunnel.

Debbie leans in for a hug, eliciting a small sigh when you strengthen the embrace a little.

You figured she should feel taken care of for once.

“Thank you.”

You hear her sincerity and make a mental note to talk about this with Mark later on.

Oliver is tired out from having a “good playdate” with you and his older brother.

You tuck him in for the night per his request and can't help but feel the warmth from taking care of him touch your heart.

He's a growing boy but despite the many changes one goes through due to that constant stage of life, his feelings for you don't change.

Mark loves how much Oliver loves you. He loves seeing 2 of the most important people in his life get along so well, secretly admiring the way you've grown a soft spot in his mother's heart, too.

“They grow up so fast.” Mark attempts to humor.

You hum and try your best not to cry dwell on the bittersweetness of that phrase.

“Yeah.”

You're sitting on Mark's bed, looking fondly at the one of many drawings the kid made for you.

You softly exhale and bring up the conversation you had earlier with Debbie.

“Mark, I have something I want to talk to you about.”

He looks at you knowingly. “I know.”

Your eyes widen a bit at that revelation. “You do?”

He nods, a pursed smile on his face. “I have super hearing, remember?”

How did you forget that?

You close your eyes and exhale sharply, feeling silly for forgetting that power of his. “Right, duh.”

You don’t want to push the conversation if he’s not feeling it but you want to know if you did the right thing.

“I... didn’t overstep… right?”

“Oh, no. No, you didn’t.”

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I… haven’t had the best time talking to her about the things I say to you.”

You nod in understanding.

“I felt bad when she asked you how I’m doing. She should be able to ask me that.”

He’s guilt-stricken and it makes you feel dejected.

“Mark.” You put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know it’s hard talking to your mom about your inner turmoil but you’re all she has.”

Who does Debbie go to when she wants to discuss the matters of her heart? Who’ll listen when she wants someone to talk to?

“You give her the strength to carry on so let her give you some peace of mind, hm?”

Mark’s eyes shine with a strong fondness for you, his mind wiped clean of all things difficult and heart ten times lighter.

You’ve always understood him, whether he explains himself or not. You could always just know.

Your heart and emotional intelligence are perhaps his favorite things about you.

“You okay?” You ask, worried you’ve overstepped again.

“Never been better.” He promises.

A soft smile graces his lips as he leans in to hug you.

You accept it with an equal gentle expression and when you feel his arms wrap around your middle, you feel good.

Mark is invulnerable but not when it comes to the war between his mind and heart, that’s when you step in. And when you do, there’s always a resolution found in great clarity.

You feel his heartbeat above yours and unconsciously, they sync. His breathing evens out with yours.

It feels intimate, this hug.

You’ve hugged him a million times before but none of them have felt quite like this.

A heavy weight on his shoulders has evaporated and you can feel his gratitude.

“I don’t know how to thank you.” He murmurs.

You tilt your head back a bit so he can see you. “Then don’t.” You shrug, like it’s the most obvious answer.

He chuckles lightly and blinks at you, a tight-lipped smile on his face.

You’re suddenly hyper-aware of his arms loosening around you and replacing the warmth with his hands on your hips.

You subconsciously gulp and watch his eyes flicker towards your eyes, lips then back to your eyes.

You don’t know if it’s your mind playing tricks on you, but you swear he moves his head a little closer to you; just enough to barely touch noses.

Your stomach is in a frenzy and your hands feel clammy.

Is this really happening?

But then, like a switch being flipped off; he gingerly clears his throat and backs away.

You blink, catching yourself in a daze and he gets up to put on a movie.

He acts like he wasn’t just about to kiss you, as if that chemistry was just a figment of your imagination.

You don’t have the guts to say anything, to ask the obvious. So, you also pretend that you two weren’t just about to fulfill your biggest ‘what if?’ scenario.

“Oh, wow… that’s crazy.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n.”

It was nice to hear sympathies from the only people who you could afford to talk about this with. They’re also the only people who wouldn’t go and spread the telltale truth of the most embarrassing moment of your life.

“I can’t believe he fumbled this badly.” Amber facepalms herself in disbelief.

She sighs in exasperation and plops down on your bed with an arm covering her eyes.

Eve doesn’t move from her position; leaning on your wall with her arms crossed and her face in thought.

“What if he doesn’t like me like that?” You wonder aloud.

Amber peeks an eye out from under her elbow and Eve shakes her head.

“No, no, no. Trust me, that’s not it.”

“Don’t seem so sure.” You grumble as you pick at your nails to distract yourself from the heartache.

Eve sits down beside you and thinks about her words carefully. “Mark… well, I won’t defend him; he is kinda stupid.”

“Kinda?” Amber argues.

That makes you grin a bit.

“But he’s also your best friend, and you’re his. Maybe he doesn’t know how he feels but he does know that you’re not worth the risk of something he’s unsure will ever happen.”

Somehow, she put things into a perspective you’ve never thought about before.

“I never thought about it like that.”

You feel Amber sit up.

“That’s because it’s a confusing situation. Seeing both sides of the story might help you make some sense, give you consolation.”

You nod, already having potential answers to your unanswered questions. If not real answers, you’ll settle for theories. It’s still something.

“Thank you, guys.”

Amber winks at you. “Anytime.”

“Of course. We're rooting for you both.”

You shyly smile when Eve nudges your shoulder.

“So," She claps her hands together. “what should we do to commence our very first sleepover? Omegle?”

Amber is concerned for the first time at Eve’s expense.

“Umm...” You pout your lips to the side.

“I don't find the idea of accidentally getting flashed the most... thrilling.” Ambers grimaces.

“Yeah.” You nod.

Eve has a sly look on her face, one that says her proposition comes with an entertaining twist.

“Trust me, I have an idea.”

“Okay, that was pretty fun.” Amber concedes.

You laugh softly to yourself, remembering the events from the previous night.

The 3 of you decide to go out for lunch, finding the night an excellent moment for bonding.

“What was fun?”

Mark pulls a seat up at the table you're occupying.

“Mark? How'd you know we were here?” You query.

Mark looks just as confused as you but before he could answer, Eve does it for him.

“I invited him.”

“Oh. Okay.”

You don't have a problem, it's just that you thought this was gonna be “girl time” as you like to call these moments.

It would've been nice to know, at least.

Amber attempts to start up a conversation but little did you know; this conversation was a part of Eve's “idea” she mentioned the night prior.

“We went on Omegle last night.”

Mark's eyebrows raise in surprise. “Did anything happen?”

You understand the underlying message to be, “Were you victims to any unsolicited sexual advance?” and find it kind of sweet that Mark cares enough to have that be his first train of thought.

“Yeah, actually.” Eve notes as she takes a bite of her burger.

“Y/n's got herself a loverboy.”

You choke on your drink. Exploding into a fit of coughs, you hope it kills you.

Mark is quick to pat your back and try to aid in helping.

When you catch your breath, you look over at him awkwardly and thank him.

“Don't mention it.” He humbly said.

You make it a personal mission to never bring it up. Ever.

Amber continues to fuel the fire.

“Yeahhh.” She sighs. “He's Russian and was all, like, ‘Your eyes are like the ocean and I am a merman.’.” She puts on her best Russian accent and giggles when she nails it.

“Mm!” Eve makes a noise of enthusiasm, adding on to the punchline. “And then he said, ‘They are so deep, I can drown in them.’.”

“The fuck?” Mark grunts under his breath. “But mermen can swim.”

Honestly, he thought it was fucking stupid. Even if this guy was a “merman”, he'd be able to swim. Drowning is totally out of the question.

“Yeah, but it was the thought that counts.” Amber spoke before eating a fry.

“It was pretty corny.” Eve seemingly agrees with Mark.

“See?! I knew I wasn't the only one.” Mark nods to himself.

“But...”

His smile drops.

“I gotta admit, it was kind of romantic.”

Mark can't believe this.

Is romance really dead? Aren't punchlines supposed to make sense?

He knows it's only romantic because the guy's Russian. Okay, so he has an accent. So what? That should pardon his inadequacy of flirting?

“You guys only ate it up because he has an accent.”

Mark narrows his eyes as he takes a curly fry from your plate.

Amber and Eve side eye each other with mischief as they see you enter the ring.

“I thought it was kind of sweet, you know? At least he tried.” You counter.

Mark tilts his head, clearly bewildered. “You mean to say that you actually liked that?”

You don’t like his accusatory tone. “It wasn’t that bad, Mark.”

He rolls his eyes and begs to differ. “Wasn’t that bad- it made no sense! He definitely pulled that shit out of Google’s top thirty best flirty lines.” He puts air quotes around best.

“Oh, would you look at that? I actually have to go do that... thing.” Eve slowly rises from her seat.

“Yeah, me too.” Amber flashes a sweet smile.

They’re gone before you can impose.

“They really just left.” You say to no one.

Mark is still somehow going. “I just… I dunno.” He says, defeated.

“Mark, it wasn’t that deep. He liked my eyes and said some line that made me feel nice. That’s all.”

He nods like he understands but he really doesn’t.

“He’s no Mr. Darcy.” You settle as you take a sip of your milkshake.

Mark smiles at that and you’re confused.

���Why’re you smiling?”

“I knew it! I knew you couldn’t possible swoon over that ridiculous, nonsensical one-liner.”

You laugh incredulously. “Seriously, what’s your problem?”

He raises his hands in surrender. “I just knew he couldn’t be your type after that. Sure, you like them romantic but with genuine thought.”

He says that so confidently, with such attention, it makes you feel nicer than the Russian’s compliment. He makes you feel seen with that keen observation.

You nod to yourself, lowkey impressed.

“Mkay.” You simply say.

His gaze flickers towards you at the seemingly confusing, neutral response.

“What.”

“What, what?”

“You said that like you’re not convinced.”

You deeply exhale, not wanting to argue anymore. “Mkay.”

His eyes widen a bit and he snaps at you like he’s just discovered the phrase: ‘eureka!’.

“That, right there. That’s what I mean.”

You rub at your head as if you’ve got a headache but you doubt you won’t get one soon.

“Elaborate.”

You’re sticking with as little words as possible if it means to get to the point.

“Are you mad at me?” He asks with worry coating his tone.

You shake your head, unsure of what’s happening. “I just don’t know what’s gotten into you today. You’re in this strange mood to argue.”

He blinks.

You’re right.

Arguments are a rare occurrence in this relationship.

“We never argue.” He realizes regretfully.

Your eyes trail up his form and you see the uncomfortableness etched onto his outline.

“I’m sorry-”

“Sorry-”

There’s a pause, one that melts the lingering awkwardness into friendliness.

You see the hints of a smile creep up on him and instinctually, there’s one in yours.

“You first.”

Ever the gentleman.

“Sorry for making it awkward.” Your fingers interlock with each other and you give him an apologetic look.

Mark immediately shakes his head. “No, you didn’t make anything awkward… It was me. I got-”

He doesn’t speak for a few seconds, trying to find another way out of this as two thirds of his sentence has already been put out.

“You got..?”

He puts on a tight-lipped smile but it looks pained. “I just wanna say that I’m sorry for getting defensive for no reason.”

He thinks that was a good excuse for his detour but you’re smart.

“Jealous.” You say firmly.

“Huh?” He squeaks and immediately clears his throat.

“You got jealous.” You shrug your shoulders and move the whip cream in your milkshake around with the straw.

He scoffs with the intention of obscurity. “That- I- What? Pfft, jealous. Who, me?! Yeah, right.”

His stuttering erupts a snort from you, an “I told you so” fresh on the tip of your tongue.

He wanted to spout declarations of how incorrect you are but he couldn’t. The cat had his tongue.

“Whatever.” He bites with little heat.

He crosses his arms over his chest and appears to look unaffected by your ability to see through him.

“Mkay.” You hum to tease him.

Your best friend groans and you giggle at him slouching down in his seat, his hands covering his face and in turn; a sheepish grin.

You’re in your home when your TV bears awful news.

“Breaking news: intruders that look like multiple Invincibles are wreaking havoc across the globe.”

As soon as you hear that, a loud boom is heard from across the city and sends shockwaves to where you are.

“We urge you to stay in your homes and hide. Do not make contact, I repeat; don’t engage with them.”

You’re scared.

How the hell are you supposed to stay hidden in your home when there’s the start of destruction visible outside?

How can they tell you to stay inside when there’s a chance you can die in there?

It’s not like the variants aren’t gonna come inside. Who’d stop them from hurling your place of residence like a football?

Despite all of those thoughts, you stay inside.

You hide in your living room. You sigh to yourself as you hide inside a spare closet, leaving a sliver of space open to breathe.

You turn your phone’s ringer off but feel the vibrations in your pocket. You look to see who it could be and feel so much relief flood your stomach when it’s Mark.

“Mark?” You say shakily.

“Y/n? Oh, thank god. Where are you?”

Your eyes water but you keep them at bay. No point in crying over spilled milk.

“I’m in the spare closet of the living room, what’s going on?”

He starts to explain when the call abruptly cuts.

So fucking cliche you think as you the see the dead battery sign.

The sound of a window opening makes you heave out a sigh of relief.

You get out and are about to hug him but the first thing you notice when you open the door is his face. Er, the lack thereof.

“Is… this a new costume?” You ask wearily.

You didn’t know Mark had a black mask installed. It covered his whole head and the lens was turquoise blue instead of white.

He just stares at you, unflinching and scarily still.

You gulp as the realization sets in your stomach.

This isn’t the Mark of your world. This isn’t the Invincible you recognize.

The masked stranger can sense your irregular heartbeat and hear the small panicked breaths that well up in your chest.

He slowly stalks towards you; like a predator to their prey, except there’s nothing dangerous about his stance. He doesn’t radiate harm or anger and he puts his hands up, as if to show you he won’t harm you.

For your own sake, you don’t believe that. You can’t believe that’s what he wants.

You’re frozen, wide eyes filled to the brim with fear and shock.

You grip your phone tight in your hands, ready to turn it into a weapon if you must.

He’s interrupted when another one shows up.

This one has a black and yellow suit with a yellow cape.

Your eyes dart to his figure and you’re sure this one’s gonna do the honors.

“You’re alive.” He says to himself.

His eyes are covered with white lenses but you know he’s looking at you.

His hands ball up into fists and he walks to you with an urgency in his stride.

You instinctually back up and hit a wall when the masked variant gets in between you both.

“She’s scared.”

The tone in his voice almost makes you think he cares. Almost.

“Get out of my way.” The bright-caped intruder basically spat his face.

“And let youuu have all the fun? I don’t think so!”

What the fuck?

You see what looks like Mark… in a mohawk.

His lips spread into a smirk, a cocky tone in his words.

Your nails press into your arm to prevent you from sputtering out a giggle.

How are you supposed to take him seriously when he’s willingly sporting a mohawk? Right.

If you knew there was going to come a time where your home is used as some sort of Invincible convention, you would’ve moved out a long time ago.

“You’re here.”

This one scares you a little.

His demeanor may be softer but his eyes, they’re wild with a fire furling around his pupils.

What makes the fear prick at your heart is the fact that he’s wearing the Viltrumite uniform.

Wherever he came from, he became his father.

That fact chills your bones and you think, how could that happen? Why did that happen?

His wild eyes are wide with surprise and there’s the ghost of a relieved smile on his face.

Very quickly have you gone from 0 to 100.

There are 2 seemingly decent Invincibles and 2 Invincibles that give off evil vibes.

What’s better news is that they all have some sort of fascination with you.

Awesome! Fantastic, even!

Your adrenaline has taken a back seat but you’re still unnerved by the destruction just outside your neighborhood.

You’ve never wished for a quicker death as this cat and mouse game is becoming all too much. The anticipation will kill you if they don’t.

“Alright,” Mohawk Mark yawns. “Enough dickin’ around.”

The 4 variants surround you, encasing you in an otherwise unbreakable square.

“You’re coming with us.” Decides the caped crusader.

He puts his hand out to grab you but is thrown through a wall by an unstoppable force.

It feels a bit blurry after that.

You feel yourself being lifted and moving at an alarming speed, your body lurching forward and side to side by the breeze taking you.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He murmurs.

He hugs you close to his chest, a hand cradling the back of your head and the other clutching your back protectively.

“M-Mark?”

You find your voice amongst the dizziness clouding your head.

He holds your head and tilts it towards him, kissing the crown and meeting your eyes.

“Yeah, it’s me. You’re okay, you’ll be fine. Just stay here.”

You hold his wrists and blink, looking around you to find yourself with Debbie and her boyfriend, Paul.

“Please.”

Mark’s desperation appeals to you. His voice cracks with an urgency for your life. One that is begging you to listen, and you do.

“Okay.” You agree.

He nods and kisses you once again, a sweet promise pressed against your forehead.

You may have had the wind knocked out of you but that doesn’t mean you’re unaware.

Oh yeah, that kiss sobers you up real quick.

Your eyes are wide and cheeks are warm; you’re flushed and hope he doesn’t detect the jump in your heart rate because of his tenderness for you.

“Be careful.” You blurt out.

Mark looks back at you with a smirk on his face.

“I will.”

He kept his promise for the most part.

“Ow.”

“Maybe don’t move around a lot?”

“…Sorry.”

He winces as you treat his facial wounds.

Mark got pretty banged up; his left eye was swollen and purple from Conquests fists. He has similar shades of bruising on his face and a nasty cut on the bridge of his nose, another on the corner of his lip.

His arms and leg are almost fully healed.

It’s been a grueling 2 weeks.

Oliver helps out as much as he can.

Eve and the rest of the heroes are helping piece the cities back together but no matter how much they help rebuild, the atrocities committed won’t be forgotten.

Conquest was here on a personal mission and almost leveled the state because of it and roughed up Oliver pretty badly.

“I don’t know what to do.”

You hear him, you hear the things he wants to say and the things he doesn’t say out loud.

You feel so bad, so awful for him. He’s still a kid trying his hardest, doing his best.

Why can’t that be enough?

“It isn’t fair.” You respond.

His gaze turns to you.

“You do your best and when you think it’s over, the worst is still yet to come.”

Your fingers lightly touch the one of many bruises on his cheek, his eyes close at the contact.

“I can’t imagine how many times you’ve had pieces of you broken for us but it’s a sacrifice that unfortunately comes with the job.”

It hurt your heart, saying the second part.

Hard truths are a pill you’ll always find difficult to give.

He sharply inhales and the tears he tried so hard holding, come pouring down. Soft sobs and wails plague his throat.

His head falls atop your chest and his hands wrap around your middle, clinging to your shirt.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders and you do your best to ground him, to be his anchor.

His mental state is unimaginable, the thought of him slipping away has been a reoccurring nightmare for you but you push through. You have to.

“So many people died.”

The death toll worldwide was into the hundreds of thousands. That was the doing of the variants but Mark was inadvertently responsible, too.

It breaks your heart at how unfair this all is.

A Viltrumite’s personal vendetta against Mark resulted in such catastrophe.

Scott -also known as Powerplex- fried his only family left and somehow thinks that is also Mark’s fault.

As if the Chicago Incident wasn’t enough, there was almost a Chicago Incident Part 2 had it not been for Eve.

“You can’t blame yourself Angstrom’s doing.” You try to reason.

Mark shakes his head and gets up.

“I thought I killed him, but I should’ve been sure. I should’ve finished the job.”

Mark palms at his wet eyes, sniffling lightly as he calms down.

You don’t know what to do, you don’t know what to say.

You don’t want him to wallow in this pain by himself but you also don’t want to say something wrong.

“You should leave.” His cold tone and neutral face really sells it.

You’re confused. “What? I’m sorry, was it something I said? Or did?”

You’ve never seen him like this and are worried the wretched day you’ve been imagining is finally here.

“No. I just want you to go.”

You watch his fists bunch up the material of his joggers on his knees and the veins protruding from his hands.

“I…”

You want to say something, you want to stay for him but you can’t. You know it’d only make things worse.

So you just nod and whisper a meek, “Okay.”.

Mark still isn’t looking at you when you make your way to the door. His face still expressionless, calculated, distant.

Your fingers reach for the handle when you hear him.

“Y/n?”

It’s embarrassing how quick hope flashes in your eyes at the sound of him saying your name.

You try to suppress the obvious reaction as much as possible.

“Yeah?”

It still seeps through your voice but you’re human.

Your emotions are a part of you, even if they end up being a helping hand to your disappointment.

You don’t see the pool of guilt swirl around in his almost annoyed eyes but maybe it’s for the better.

He stares at you and feels bad but after everything that’s happened, is it worth keeping you in his life?

He wants to tell you so badly what’s making him push you away.

Sure, William is his best friend but you’re so much more. You’re a part of him, you’re his soulmate.

Mark wants nothing more than to see you happy but he ultimately decides that it’s nothing compared to seeing you alive.

“Can you close my door all the way?” He begrudgingly says.

The average person would blame him for pushing you away, him getting your hopes up only to crush them so inadvertently cruelly.

But you only chastise yourself.

You want him to know that despite people like Scott or Angstrom; who put the blame on wrong people for their circumstantial demise, there's people like you and Debbie.

He has a support system ready to recharge him but maybe you were overcharging him?

You go to sleep in tears, crying silently to yourself over how fucked life is.

Mark doesn't sleep the whole night, knowing he can hear your heart break.

It's been a slow week.

You don't talk to anyone or do things you used to; only getting up to go to class and eat, do some occasional grocery shopping.

You make an excuse for Amber and Eve when they text you to meet up and watch their caller ID's flash across your phone before it rings all the way through.

Mark hasn't spoken to you at all. No call, no text.

Despite him quitting school, you used to see him all the time on campus. Whether it be for you or William or Rick.

Now, you don't meet with anyone.

“She doesn't wanna talk to me or Amber anymore.” Eve voiced one day.

"Nor us." Rick pointed towards him and William.

“Something’s wrong. I'm worried about her.” Amber adds as she comes across the last message you sent in the group chat with her and Eve.

hey guys, just going through the flu rn. i’m fine tho! no worries :)

But of course they worried. They're your friends and that's what friends do.

Which is exactly what they said when they arrived at your doorstep, so you can't afford another excuse.

Your duo sits on your bed, trying to come up with a solution to best help you out.

“He’s closed off and maybe that was expected, but it's been a week.” Amber says.

“Yeah, you'd think he'd open up by now.”

You sigh pitifully and look out your window and down the street.

You’re a 10 minute drive and he’s a 1 minute flight away, yet nobody is willing to close that distance.

“It should be him, though.” Eve says.

“Hm?” You hum absentmindedly.

“Mark should be the one to come talk to you, not the other way around.”

Eve gauges for a reaction from you, one that will oppose her idea.

“Maybe you should go.” She switches up.

You look at Eve hesitantly, like it's a flop idea.

“You tried, Y/n. You did your part and he let you know but this isn’t the way things between you should end. Should he want it to end.”

It's like Amber knew what you were thinking and tried to dismiss the thought for you.

You weren't gonna lie and say that you haven't thought about blowing up his phone, driving to his house and banging on his door to open up to you.

But would he even want to? Would he even listen?

“It's not about what he wants, it's about what he needs.”

“And what he needs right now, is you.”

- MEANWHILE, WITH WILLIAM, RICK & REX -

“Come on, man. Don't be like this.” William tries.

Rick can see how much Mark is beating himself up over everything that’s happened.

With the fight against Liu’s dragon and Powerplex. And now recently, Conquest.

Mark never complained, it was the job. But you made getting back out on the field a bit easier.

“It's not worth losing her.” Rick gently reminds.

Mark's trio of lending hands have come to his service but it's unwanted, and Mark lets them know.

“Look, I don't need this. Especially not right now.”

This makes Rex mad.

“Oh you don’t need this? Well, excuseee me! We don’t need you to be so goddamn stupid, especially not right now.”

Mark narrows his eyes, visibly agitated. “Stupid? I’m being stupid?”

Rex widens his eyes, his pitch growing higher. “Yeah! That’s what I said.”

“Okay, I think we’re elevating the situation so let’s all just calm down.” William suggests nervously.

Mark has other thoughts as he rises from the bed. “And how exactly am I being stupid?”

Rex knows he shouldn’t be egging him on, he shouldn’t be encouraging his anger; but if this was the way to make his friend see his foolishness then so be it.

“By distancing yourself from the one woman who’s nice enough to let you, instead of manning up and telling her how you really feel.”

That stung.

“You don’t get to tell me how to handle my love life.”

Rex smirks lazily, a hardball on the tip of his tongue. “You don’t even have the balls to have one.”

“Rex.” William warns.

The cheeky bastard ignores him and continues on, a bit excited to see where this would all lead.

“I think she’d want a man who sees her, who doesn’t hurt her by ignoring her entire existence.”

Rick facepalms himself and wonders where the line between bravery and stupid was drawn.

Mark’s knuckles are white from how hard his fingers are curling in on themselves, his fists ready to pound into the explosive asshole.

Rex steps closer, now toe-to-toe with Mark and ignorantly unafraid. “I wouldn’t make her wait.”

Mark punches him right in the mouth, hard.

“Mark!” The yell of his friends fall on deaf ears.

Rex grunts as he stumbles back a bit, expecting this outcome.

“You don’t know her. You don’t know what’s good for her.” Mark spits bitterly.

Rex spits some blood out, sighing heavily. “You do.”

That makes Mark soften up.

He blinks like he’s snapped out of a trance. His fist wavers and is set down beside his thigh, a deep sigh exiting his nose. He looks at his friend and witnesses the ugly truth; his jealousy won.

“What am I doing?” He whispers.

Rex coughs lightly, the cut on his lip stinging.

“Talk to her, Mark. Don’t let her live with the regret of not knowing.”

Rick puts a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, hoping this will finally tip him over the edge.

Rex comes off the wall, slapping Mark’s back with a warm pat.

“I’m sorry, Rex. I shouldn’t have-”

He dismisses him with a wave. “Nah, I was being an asshole. An asshole on purpose, but still an asshole.”

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

You’re gathering the courage to mull over the most impactful relationship in your life.

Is there even a correct way to do that?

You don’t know, but what you do know is that you have to try.

You look yourself in the mirror and feel the weight of your younger self.

She’d be devastated. you think. If she were here in the flesh to see this, you don’t think she could withstand it.

A sharp knock to your door pulls you out of your head.

You’re not expecting anyone, and you’re unsure about the one person you did want to hear from.

Regardless, you walk over and open the door and your heart drops out of your ass. Not in fear, but in surprise.

“Mark.” You breathe.

Here he is; in the flesh and without the scowl you picture. In fact, he looks guilty.

His once glee-filled eyes are now empty of it, making you reminisce the time before last week.

“Can I come in?”

His voice resounding of forlorn hope. He expects you to deny him, to make him walk away with his hands held in a helpless prayer.

Instead, you show him mercy and welcome him inside your place of refuge.

Tentatively, he makes his way inside and awkwardly stands beside your desk.

You’re quiet, still trying to process his presence after an entire week of radio silence.

You don’t know how to feel. Should you be happy? Ecstatic? If anything, frustrated and hurt are also a great couple of options.

“Y/n?”

You look up at him and see his concerned face. “Hm?”

“I asked if we can talk.”

“Now you want to talk?” It came out before you could even think about it.

Your annoyance seeps through and he shuffles the weight on his feet a bit uncomfortably.

“I know-”

“No, you don’t.”

He looks at you like you just told him to kill himself.

“Y/n, please. Just hear me out.”

Your arms are crossed over your chest in a defensive position, he clocks that. He also notices the way you make eye contact with him throughout your sentences.

You were really hurt, he gathers.

He takes your silence as a sign to continue talking.

“After I left you at Paul’s, I went back out there and fought off the rest of those… variants. While I was fighting them, they told me about you.”

Your interest is absolutely peaked now.

“What do you mean?”

“They... they said that you existed in their world but-” He cuts himself off with a vexed sigh.

“But what, Mark.”

You want, need to know what was worth hurting you for days on end.

Mark looks at you and it's the most disheartened he's looked since that night he told you to leave.

“You died, Y/n.”

It all makes sense now. You grapple with the stomach-churning epiphany of the century.

The different Invincibles that wanted to take you was simply because you ceased to exist in their worlds.

“I... I died in every single universe.”

He takes some steps in your direction, not wanting to overwhelm you.

“You either died on accident by being murdered among civilians or you killed yourself.”

“Why would I commit suicide?”

He deeply inhales. “Because you'd rather die than join the other me.”

That sounds on brand.

“I couldn't live with myself knowing I'd lose you in this world, too.” He admits raspily.

That touches your heart.

You want to hug him, to comfort him but you're still kind of confused. You needed more answers.

“I was so scared, I had never felt fear like I did when I saw them with you.” He whispers.

“Why'd you tell me to leave?” You ask gently.

“Because I love you.”

His confession is so light, said with such helplessness, that you tear up.

Mark maintains eye contact with you, tired of hiding his true self. He wants you to see him.

“So many people have died because of me, it may not be directly my fault, but it still had to do with me.”

He comes a little closer, just a couple of steps away from touching you.

“What if I was too late that day? What if they managed to take you away?” He mutters in a hushed tone.

Mark shakes his head as if to get rid of those thoughts.

“If anything happens to you, it will be because of me.”

“So, you thought it was best to create such a large gap between us, that there'd be a sinking hole inside of me. Is that it?”

Your eyes well up against your will but you can't bring yourself to care. Not when he can finally see just how much you've been suffering.

“You think I wanted to do that?” He asks defensively.

You scoff indignantly. “I think you could've told me from the jump. That's what I think.”

You know it's a little unfair given how vulnerable he's being right now but he was unfair when you were vulnerable, too.

He shakes his head, eyes closing in on themselves as his tears threaten to fall. “I can't risk your life, Y/n! Why don't you understand that?”

You messily wipe your tears, your lashes wet and nose tinged with the lightest of reds.

“All this time, you didn't have a problem with how close we were. Now that you saw how close I was to something dangerous, it got too real for you?!”

He's in your space now, his chin set down and eyes on yours.

Contrary to how mad he looks, he relays his message in an low tone. “Yeah. It did.”

Your eyes widen a bit at the length he's cut between your bodies and you're back in time. You go back to the moment he almost kissed you.

“Don't push me away, Mark.”

You beg him and you don't care if you look pathetic. You love him and don't want to lose him like this.

Mark just presses his forehead against yours and shuts his eyes, he concentrates on you. Your smell, your hushed breaths, your heartbeat.

You feel his hands slide up and down your arms, grounding you.

Even when he's opening up to you, Mark still chooses to comfort you. He still wants to calm you down, to make you feel better. He still chooses to have your best interests at heart.

“I came here to tell you the truth, that you deserve better.”

You wordlessly deny his idea, shaking your head once.

He grabs ahold of your head, making you look at him.

You see it all, you see all of his pain, grief, anger.

“I love you but you're not safe with me.”

“You don't get to make my decision for me.” You stubbornly point out.

“Y/n-”

“I love you.” A shaky whisper snuck into the air between your lips.

His wide eyes stare back at yours in surprise.

“I've loved you for a long time and I don't wanna be in love with another.” You wrap your hands around his, feeling the warmth bloom onto your cold ones.

“Please. Please don't ask me to stay away from you.” You cry.

He kisses your head and brings you close, your head on his shoulder and slotting between his bicep and forearm. He curls his other arm around your waist and lays his head on yours.

“Okay, fine.” He fondly agrees. “You win so stop crying.”

“Fuck you.” You jab.

He airily laughs and brings your face close to his, pressing an equally feathery kiss to your lips.

You timidly kiss him, shying away a little to breathe but Mark wants you to take his breath if you must. He pulls you in, hands gripping your hips and pulling you flush against him, wanting to shape a new mold from your figures.

Your fingers nervously brush his hair and he groans at the contact.

You chuckle at the sound and he pulls away leaving a soft peck.

He's in a daze and has hearts in his eyes but he ultimately decides; he wouldn't want it any other way.

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐞.𝐦.

This piece contains 18+ content.

Pairing Eddie Munson x Female Reader [friends → lovers]

Summary Eddie holds good on his promise to take you out on a date, and as the night comes to a close, you realize you’re not ready to say goodbye [fluff, smut, 4.3k].

A/N This is the long-awaited continuation of come whatever may. You can read that first if you'd like, but enough context will be provided here. Spoiler alert: the sex is very soft, teasy, and desperate because they’re in l-o-v-e. Haven't written smut in nearly two years, but I evoked the muses of times past—and thus!...

PART 1

∘°∘♡∘°∘

Summer is long gone, but when you open the door to Eddie holding flowers, the warmth that rises to your cheeks makes it feel nearer than ever. It’s a vibrant bouquet composed of white roses, red lilies, baby’s breath, and leafy foliage. The wrapper crinkles as he extends them to you with an easy smile and soft hello. Your eyes flick back up to his after admiring the delicate blooms. 

There’s a healthy flush to his cheeks, his curls neat and defined. The black leather jacket he’s wearing clings to his slender frame with a polished edge. Under the weight of your gaze, he huffs out a chuckle that reminds you you’re still on earth. 

“Gonna let me in, sweetheart?” Charm drips from his voice and shimmers within his chocolate eyes. 

Nodding, you shuffle backwards, allowing him to enter and push the door shut behind himself. As he steps further inside, you can feel his gaze sweeping over your outfit. An olive-green corduroy dress layered over a beige turtleneck that’s soft against your skin. His smile grows, glinting bright enough for anyone to believe he just won the Lotto when, really, it’s just the pretty sight of you holding the flowers he bought. 

“These are beautiful.” You raise the bouquet, but Eddie’s eyes remain on you. Seeking refuge from his gaze, you tuck your nose down to inhale the sweet fragrance of the petals. “They smell amazing too.” 

“That’s all you, sweetheart.” 

You get shy when his eyes meet yours. “You like my outfit and everything?” 

Eddie swallows back a degree of his earnestness so he doesn’t sound too far gone. “Of course I do, are you kidding me?” 

Seemingly out of nowhere, Robin descends the staircase with a bag slung over her shoulder like she’s prepared to leave, hair tied up in a messy bun. Given your parents were away in Indianapolis for the weekend, you’d asked her to come over and help you get ready so you wouldn’t be alone. 

Eddie’s eyes flick to her, clearing his throat. “Did you help her pick this out, Buckley?” 

“Obviously,” she smirks. “Nice hair.” 

“It is really nice,” you agree with a soft smile. Eddie lifts a passive shoulder, chest fluttering. 

“Rob, do you think you could…” she takes the bouquet without you having to ask. The two of you had shuffled through the attic and dug out a vase earlier that afternoon. 

Eddie had promised this date, along with flowers, a week ago when you slipped away from Steve’s party to be alone. That night, he’d kissed you in the heat of the moment but wanted to backtrack and do things right. You deserved that much. 

The time you’ve been looking forward to has finally come. 

With your hands now free, the only thing you can think to do is wrap your arms around Eddie. The world goes still as he hugs you back, nerves quelling beneath your skin. For a moment, you merely enjoy the warmth of the same arms you’ve been wrapped in countless times before. With your head tucked into his chest, enveloped by the faint scent of his cologne, you release all the worries that ride on the sweeping coattails of change. For a moment, he’s just Eddie, your best friend. 

When you pull away, he leans in, tilting his head with that familiar, boyish curiosity. “You alright?” he asks quietly, searching your gaze.

You nod, a smile breaking through. He takes your hand in his and gives it a squeeze, “Just checkin’.” 

Robin soon walks back into the foyer. “I put the flowers in a vase for you,” she announces, taking her hair down and shaking it out. “Hate to admit it, but you two are actually cute. It’s disgusting.” 

“Hey,” Eddie lifts his hands, laughing. “Little victories.” 

She adjusts her bag on her shoulder with a content sigh. “Welp, I’m about to go pester Harrington at Family Video.” She turns to Eddie, playfully narrowing her eyes. “You better treat her right, ‘cause best believe I’ll be hearing all about this date.” 

When she slips out the door, Eddie smiles at you in silent assurance. 

●・○・●・○・●

The sun hasn’t quite begun to set, but orange and pink faintly blend on the horizon. A cool fall breeze flows in through the cracked windows as the radio plays softly. Eddie had asked his Uncle Wayne to borrow his pickup truck because it’d be more romantic than his bulky van. You can’t say whether he was right, only that you’re grateful to be riding shotgun with him—headed to an unknown destination, no less. 

You’d already guessed through a list of places that Eddie denied with amusement. Sighing, you look out the window to people bustling about, walking dogs and strolling out of shops. You’re coming out of the more commercial side of town, nearing Lover’s Lake and the state park.  

“I give up,” you sigh. 

Eddie chuckles, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze, ignorant to his warming effect on you. “Okay, fine, I’ll give you a hint.” That makes you peer over at him in interest. “If I had to guess, I’d say not a lot of people have had the chance to try it out yet.” 

That’s a dead giveaway. Your mouth falls open in surprise. “That new place along the lake—Stillwater Grill?” The twitch of Eddie’s lips is telling. “No way!” The excitement in your voice makes his chest tighten.

Stillwater was supposed to be good, from what you’d heard. A slightly elevated dining experience minus the formalities and steep pricing of a restaurant like Enzo’s. Where classic American favorites embrace small-town charm, according to the paper. 

Upon your arrival, the parking lot houses a pretty decent number of cars. Lover’s Lake provides a serene backdrop that catches the evening light. Couples stand outside admiring the view. Eddie opens your door and helps you out of the truck like a proper gentleman. You happily tuck yourself into him as you walk inside. 

When you were younger, you often wondered what love would be like. Books and the movies always presented countless possibilities, but you always believed it’d be special for you. So different that nothing else would be able to compare—perhaps, selfishly. One thing for sure, you never could’ve dreamed up someone like Eddie. 

As he sits across from you under the dim glow of the lights, laughter and chatter filling the air, you wonder if you’ll ever be able to put all this into words. Belly full, you realize that what you’ve enjoyed even more than the food and cozy, rustic atmosphere was his company. 

Eddie has an inexplicably magnetic way. There was a magic in getting him all to yourself. In relishing the lovely sparkle in his eyes that suggested he was always on the verge of laughter. The passion he exuded made it seem like the way he loved a given thing was biblical. He could talk the ears off a cornfield if he wanted but knew instinctively when to listen. Even your passing remarks seemed to bear some semblance of importance to him.  

Conversing with him had always been easy, but without other people vying for his attention, you were truly able to admire the boy before you. To embrace the deepening attraction. 

As you wait for the waiter to bring the tab, you don’t realize you’ve grown silent and begun blinking at him with the fondest eyes. 

●・○・●・○・●

The wooden stairs of your front porch creak under both your footsteps as you climb them, stopping in front of your front door as the night settles around you. Moths flutter around the lanterns framing the door, crickets chirp in the lawn. Eddie kicks at a dead leaf, combing through a sea of thoughts in search of the right words. 

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask,” he says. You wait for him to continue. His doe eyes search yours for the briefest moment, seeing right through you it seems. “Would you like to be my girlfriend? ‘Cause I think it’s gonna be hard for me to quit you.” 

Your mouth opens a couple times in a mix of giddiness and surprise. “Yeah,” you finally breathe. “Yeah, I’d love to be your girlfriend.” 

Smiling, he steps forward to capture your lips in a slow, sweet kiss that you feel everywhere. It manages to outshine the first, more desperate, kiss you’d shared a week prior. This one is steady and sure, like a promise sealed with a prim bow. When he pulls away to look into your eyes, you shyly duck your head. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” he asks, lifting your chin. 

He doesn’t want to go, instead wishing he could stall and stay right here with you. He’s parted ways with you hundreds of times before, but now he can’t seem to figure out how he ever did. That’s how he knows he’s in trouble. The best kind. 

“I’ll pick up,” you promise. 

He stands at your door until you see yourself inside. It’s quiet without him. Your eyes land on the flowers he got you, now in a vase in the living room thanks to Robin. Too quiet. The sound of your front door reopening stops Eddie in his tracks. He turns around with a slight furrow between his brows. 

“Everything okay?” he calls, mindful of his volume. 

You make a small motion for him to come back to you. He listens in a heartbeat. 

There’s a weighted look in his eyes beneath the playfulness, “Miss me already?” 

“No,” you lie. 

●・○・●・○・●

It’s a wonder how you manage to make it feel like there’s a pleasant fire kindling within him. What started out as yet another easy conversation, has turned into you straddling his lap on the couch, the fabric of your dress riding up your thighs as the TV drones in the background.

Everything feels heightened now. The brush of your lips against his, your fingers gently scratching at the nape of his neck. 

Eddie’s lips part in a soft, shuddering breath when you roll your hips over him. 

“Hold on a second, sweetheart.” His eyebrows are pinched as he pulls back from the kiss, hands stilling you. 

You blink down at him all owl-like. “Did I do something?” you murmur, purposely shifting over him again.

He restrains from canting his hips upwards. There’s a softness to his gaze even though his cheeks are flushed hot. 

“If getting me worked up counts. You’re real good at that.” His shamelessness is dizzying. “Just don’t wanna get ahead of myself.” It’s a subtle invitation, a chance for you to call things off in case you aren’t on the same page. 

But you can feel warmth pooling low in your belly. “What else am I good at?” 

He knows you’re game then. For whatever this is, whatever it’s bound to become. 

“Trying to pretend I’m not driving you crazy too.” He chuckles when you duck to hide your face in the crook of his neck, kissing the sensitive skin there. 

There’s a gentleness to the way Eddie’s hand slips beneath the hem of your dress, meeting the delicate skin of your inner thigh. 

“Eddie,” you murmur, lifting from his neck as his fingers continue their trail upwards.

“Hmm?” He pauses, thumb stroking your skin in soft circles. 

“Can we go to my room?” A slight shiver runs through you as his fingers move to trace along the crease of your thigh.

“Your call, sweetheart.” 

Before he withdraws his hand, he snaps the waistband of your panties and grins when you straighten.  

●・○・●・○・●

The lamp on your nightstand casts everything in a dim, warm glow. Eddie shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your desk chair, eyes roving over the notebooks and pens strewn about. The sight of his tattooed arms makes you move to kiss him again, letting your lips wander to the corner of his mouth and his chin in a trail of warmth. He throbs in his jeans when you slip your fingers beneath the hem of his shirt and curl them into his stomach. 

Reluctantly, he pulls away from your lips and steps back enough to pull the fabric over his head in one swift movement, muscles rippling as the dark ink on his torso is revealed. With newly disheveled hair, he kisses you backward onto the bed, crawling over top of you as you settle into the mattress with a pleased hum. 

Having the upper hand allows him to press hot kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck as you huff out sighs and caress his milky skin with buzzing fingertips. Nothing about his movements is rushed, each press of his lips intentional enough to believe he'd had them planned for years.

Eddie didn’t know your body yet, not in the way he’d like to. But he was reading it in real-time. Cataloging every writhe and hitch of your breath so he knew where to return. The obsessive part of his brain often gets on his nerves, but he’s grateful for it now. Grateful he wants to see every move and sound you can make. There’s an artistry to it, a musicality. 

An inkling of panic arises when he begins to suckle on the side of your neck as you offer it. Not because he’s being rough, but because it’s overwhelming enough to want to crawl out of your skin. A soft whimper rises up your throat as your hands find his flexed biceps, digging in. You’re unsure of whether to pull him closer or push him away. 

Eddie rises from your neck on his own accord, running a finger over the spot. “You like it when I kiss you here, huh?” There’s a slow, honeyed quality to his voice. 

When you offer a helpless nod, he leans back down again, and you shudder as his mouth laves over the same sensitive area a little ways beneath your ear. Exasperated, you blindly paw for the waistband of his jeans, fingers shaky as you fiddle with his belt buckle.

Feeling your struggle, Eddie moves to press a final kiss to your throat before pulling away from your neck. 

“Stupid thing,” you pant, pouting up at him for help. 

Chuckling, Eddie reaches down with one hand to undo it with ease. Then, watches with blown pupils as you hurry to undo the button and zipper. He slips off the bed as smoothly as he can to remove his pants, black boxers tented and straining. A spark of heat surges through you as you press your thighs together at the sight. 

No sooner is he crawling back to help you out of your clothes. The lacy underwear set you’re wearing beneath is a pretty shade of baby blue, and Eddie can’t help but palm himself. 

“Jesus,” he sounds awed and devastated at the same time. “You’re so gorgeous...” 

Before he’s even had time to process, you take off your bra, baring your chest for him to see. Your nipples pebble with the new exposure and all of two seconds pass before he’s surging forward, sending you tumbling back to the mattress in a breath of startled laughter he swallows down like a lifeline. 

You gasp into his mouth, back arching, as he cups one of your breasts, circling and rolling your nipple between his fingers. You’re barely kissing him back anymore, but he continues licking into your mouth as your lips part around shallow exhales. 

That’s when the phone begins to ring. Eddie sits back on his haunches despite your attempt to stop him. 

“Might be important.” His voice is rough. 

“They can leave a message.” 

He smirks, dragging a hand through his hair. “You sure?”

Lifting your leg, you run a careful foot over the swell of his boxers. He twitches at the contact. 

“You’re all I care about,” you murmur. “Need you, E.” There’s a desperate edge to your voice that draws him right back in.

“You’ve got me.” He runs a lone finger down the front of your panties. “Can I take these off?” You’re only half listening to his words, nodding to whatever. “Lift up for me.” The muscles of your thighs tremble as you do. 

Tossing your panties aside, he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your belly button. Then another one just beneath it. A surprised sound rises up your throat when he gently spreads you open to kiss that swollen, sensitive part of you that’s pulsing with need.  

“Oh, gosh—” you stutter out, hands threading into his hair.

“Need me right here?” His voice is laced with a smile, and you can’t help a breathy laugh. Prideful warmth ignites in his chest. “Or do you need me somewhere else?” He trails playful, ticklish nips along your inner thighs, making you squirm. 

“Eddie, please…” 

He’s gracious enough to begin rubbing your clit in precise, measured circles, intently studying the pretty scrunch of your face.

“Firmer,” you instruct breathily, “—just like that, just like that.” Your legs spread wider instinctively, arching when he collects your slick with a slow, heavy finger. 

You’re already so on edge from his previous attention that it only takes a few moments before you ascend into bliss, muscles growing taut as your mouth falls agape. The strong, rhythmic pulses serve as your only touchpoint to reality along with Eddie’s tender caress at your slick, fluttering entrance. One he didn’t even have the chance to breach. 

“Look at you…” he says, voice thick. “Made it easy for me.” He laughs a little, more turned on than anything. 

“It’s not funny,” you halfheartedly assert, cheeks prickling. 

“No,” Eddie agrees. “Just super-duper hot.” 

As he raises up, you realize his other hand is tucked into his boxers, lazily stroking himself. A second wave of desire builds within you, overlapping the remnants of the first and any sense of embarrassment that had begun to kindle. It’s spurred by the deep flush of his cheeks, the way his eyes are soaking you in like he’s just witnessed the most beautiful unraveling. 

Under your hazy, watchful gaze, he scrambles off the bed. Without warning, he shoves his boxers down, kicking them from around his ankles. His arousal impressively springs up towards his stomach. You bite your lip at the rosy, leaking tip, the gorgeous vein snaking prominently along the underside. 

Eddie peeks over at you with a dazed quirk of his lips before retrieving his wallet from his jacket. He pulls out a square foil packet and promptly rips it open with his teeth. 

Upon crawling back into the bed, he isn’t expecting you to take his cock in a loose hold, stroking upwards from the curly hair at the base to circle your thumb around the tip. There’s a pleasant tug low in his gut as he kicks up in your palm. 

“Sweetheart…” His voice is soft, nearly a plea. You let your hand glide back down, this time venturing lower to cradle the soft weight hanging beneath. He nearly buckles forward. “What're you doing to me?” he rasps. 

“Nothing,” you murmur innocently, wetting your hand and giving him a few more easy strokes, enjoying the warm, veiny feel of him before withdrawing your touch. 

He curses under his breath as he rolls the condom down, his gaze never leaving you as you reposition yourself to take him. 

“Eager beaver,” you lilt as he crowds over you. 

“Yeah,” he exhales. “I am.” 

He lines up at your entrance, tip catching as he collects your slick with a wavering breath.  

You open your legs even wider. “Want you,” you murmur, breathy and sweet. 

The expression on his face is like something from a painting, raw and rapturous as he eases into your encompassing warmth. He takes it slow, giving you time to relax around him as you breathe through the dull ache of welcoming him in. A low, guttural sound escapes him once he’s buried all the way. 

Your chests brush. Tears prick in your eyes at the closeness, the feeling of being filled so completely. 

“You’re unreal,” he murmurs, lips clumsy against your chin. “Like I made you up in my head.” 

He begins moving, slowly drawing back only to push back in. A steady rhythm finds him as your mouth falls open, legs hooking around his thighs. The muscles of his back ripple with his effort, and you chart every tense line with your fingertips. 

With a low groan, he makes a minor adjustment to better reach that spongy spot within you. You arch into him with a whimper, breath catching in your throat. 

“There she is,” he whispers, reaching between your bodies to rub firm, steady circles against your clit. 

“Oh, god…” It sounds like you’re in pain even though you’re the furthest thing from it. When you close your eyes, tears stream down your face in twin streaks, surprising both of you. Eddie tenderly wipes them away, gaze soft. 

“You’re okay,” he promises. “It’s just me, angel.”

Except, Eddie isn't just anything. You’ve never felt so close to someone, so in tune, and somehow, it’s Eddie—sweet, goofy, wild-haired Eddie—who knew exactly what you needed. He picks up the pace as you arch and writhe beneath him, body yielding without question.

“You feel so good,” you whimper, clenching around him. 

His groan reverberates against your neck as his hips jerk sloppily, “Can’t say stuff like that…” Those words only make you tighten around him again.

The dazed way he mouths at your shoulder lets you know he’s clinging onto composure. You’re too warm, too everything—snug, and soft, and beautiful. He’s not ready for this feeling to end. This heady, binding haze of pleasure.  

“Eddie,” you breathe softly. “Wanna ride you…” 

Your plea nearly finishes him off. “Yeah?” he croaks.

You nod, whimpering. He barely withstands the feeling of slipping from within you. Shifting onto his back allows him a moment of reprieve, but he nearly loses himself when you straddle him, sinking back down with a circle of your hips. 

You brace your hands on his ribcage, steadily rocking on top of him as your head tips back. Sweat glistens in the divot of his sternum as he attempts to move in time with you. When you speed up, he closes his eyes to calm himself down. 

“Hey…where’d you go?” You croon, grazing your nails from his chest to his quivering stomach, relishing the feeling of his warm, dewy skin beneath your fingertips.

The wrecked way he forces his eyes back open almost makes you fall apart. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips as a greater sense of urgency awakens between you. It’s in the way you speed up, both eager, desperate, chasing. He memorizes the way your body moves over top of his, the bouncy sway of your chest. 

“You look so pretty taking me like this,” he shudders. “My pretty girl.” 

“Eddie…” you coo, high and breathy. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he chokes out. “Wanna feel you come around me so bad.” He’s babbling now, “Shit, I’m not gonna last. I can’t take it anymore, angel...I can’t—” 

The earnest crack of his voice sends you tumbling over the edge, vision spotting. Pleasure radiates throughout every fiber of your being as your walls contract around him. He stills your hips with a firm hold, bucking upwards and coming undone in surging waves. You slide your hands over his abdomen to feel him flex with each strong jolt that wracks him. 

As your body begins to relax, you blink down at him, lips parted as you catch your breath. Eddie throws an arm over his face as he sucks in air, neck and chest flushed pink. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. 

Both of you shudder as you ease off him. The pleasant ache of loss pulses between your legs as you partially lay down on top of him, hooking a leg over his waist. He traces along your thigh in light, soothing passes. You can feel his chest rising and falling. 

“You okay?” he eventually murmurs.

You nod, kissing his shoulder. “You?”

“I think so,” he chuckles weakly. 

●・○・●・○・●

The afterglow brings a quiet stillness to the air. Clean and beneath the sheets, you study Eddie’s long lashes, his nose, his plush lips. He eventually cracks a self-conscious smile.  

“What?” he questions. You shake your head because you don’t know what to say. He doesn’t look like he believes you. “C’mon...” 

So, you think of something, a small truth you’re willing to give him, “I just really enjoyed spending time with you tonight.”

He hums, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes. “What was your favorite part?” 

“Probably the food at Stillwater,” you say, though your fingertips are tracing along his jaw, then down his neck, trailing to his waistline to lightly brush between his hip bones as he squirms. “Best I’ve ever had,” you lilt. 

Eddie breaks into a flustered laugh, leaning over to sleepily kiss the coy smile from your lips. 

“But really, though,” you say afterward. “Thanks for tonight. Never met a guy quite like you.” 

Eddie realizes then that he’d better get a head start on counting his lucky stars. 

-

Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think.

NEXT PART | PART ONE

MORE

[xoxoluvnicole]

Little Angel

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader (First person POV)

You and Theo both end up at a Slytherin Halloween party, he is drawn in by your costume.

!SMUT! 18+ ONLY

CW: Alcohol, weed, pet names, choking, getting tied up

~~~~

"You look absolutely adorable!" My best friend squeals, looking at me over my shoulder in the mirror hung on the wall in my dorm room.

I smooth down the white mini skirt that adorns the top of my thighs. I decided to dress as an angel, it was an extremely basic costume but I knew it would draw the attention I wanted from boys. It was an all white outfit, a see-through corset was squeezing my organs in ways that made me vaguely worried for my health. My makeup was done all nice, with white accents on the inner corners of my eyes and small jewels dotted randomly on my face. Lastly, the piece that tied it all together was the white angel halo that sat on top of my head thanks to the headband.

We rushed out of my dorm, running through the dark halls of Hogwarts as quietly but as quickly as we could. Walking down the stairs into the dungeon, I could hear the music blasting from yards away. The green LED lights shined beneath the door that led into the Slytherin common room. A scrawny Slytherin first year had the poor job of standing at the door.

I waltzed right by him, catching him staring at the top of my legs. The room had all the furniture pushed against the walls, a makeshift bar was set up next to the door, and there was a lingering smell of different intoxicating substances. I held my best friends hand as we snuck our way through the crowd standing at the door.

I could see all sorts of unique costumes standing around the room. A group of Ravenclaws were dressed as the Scooby Doo mystery gang. I could see a few playboy bunnies followed by their Hugh Hefner boyfriends. Lots of popular tv show characters, a few Ghostface masks and Michael Myers stood in different corners of the room.

I could feel my friend tug at my arm, dragging me over to the bar. Pansy Parkinson was dressed as a sexy pirate, being the main bartender for the party. When she saw me, she smiled.

"Finally decided to join the party?" She yelled over the music.

I smiled at her, looking over my shoulder to scan the party. "Just give me something fruity!"

She quickly mixed something up for me, it was a bright pink color and it tasted similar to a cherry pie. It was dangerous, I knew I'd be drunk within the hour if I drank this as fast as I wanted to. I leaned over the bar, my ass sticking out behind me.

"Don't look behind you.." Pansy warned, looking past me while she continued to mix up a drink. "Nott's been staring at you for the past few minutes.."

I smiled at the name. Theodore Nott. He was a Slytherin seventh year, hot as ever and he had a cunning attitude attached to him. We've talked a bit, being smoking buddies every so often when he came up to the Astronomy tower with his boys while Pansy and I sat up there. Not strangers, but definitely not as close as I wished we could be.

I stood up straight, peering just every so slightly over my shoulder. He was wearing a black suit with a red button up shirt and tie. His face was covered with black and white face paint, depicting a skeleton. A simple costume, but it made me want to drool and trip over myself.

The cold drink in my hand was giving me a bit of confidence, as I took another sip. I whispered a quick goodbye to my friend and turned around on my heels. Theo was stationed next to the fireplace with Mattheo and Lorenzo at his sides. I slowly sauntered through the crowd, saying my hellos to the friends I bumped into along the way.

Theo acted like he didn't see me coming, looking away to the other corner of the room.

"Skeleton? Pretty basic, don't you think, Nott?" I giggled, bringing the drink up to my lips for another sip as I stepped in front of him.

He chuckled, finally meeting my eyes but not before he examined my costume. "Angel?" He took a minute to pause, "Unique.."

I smiled at him. I moved my hand holding the drink between us, silently offering him a sip. He held his hand up, denying it before he brought up his other hand which revealed the blunt he was holding.

"Classic.." I giggled at him.

I opened my mouth to speak again, possibly flirt with him a bit more before some Rihanna song came over the speakers. I gasped, looking up at the strobing lights on the ceiling. My hips began to sway as I took another drink, before setting it down on the mantle of the fireplace.

"Dance with me!" I yelled over the music to Theo, grabbing his upper arm and dragging him behind me.

The area that was the designated dance floor was crowded with people from every house. I managed to snake my way to the middle, stopping and turning to face Theo. The song continued on, as I grabbed Theo's hands to swing them back and forth. He smiles a small smile at me, eyes drawn to my body.

The song continues on and Theo's hands find my waist, turning me in his arms so my back is against his chest. My hips move side to side, his following mine. We stayed on the dance floor for the next few songs. Between me grinding on him or wrapping my arms around his shoulders to sing along with the song.

"Wanna go smoke somewhere?" He leaned down to whisper in my ear, hands still glued to my waist.

I nodded. He grabbed my hand within his, guiding me through the crowd and up a staircase into the boys dorm wing.

"Where are we going?" I giggled, whispering behind him.

"My dorm.. I've got better weed in there." He looked back at me, smirking.

He opened the door, leading me into a plainly decorated room. The only character that stood out was the weed accessories placed all over the room and the big tapestry that hung over his bed with a marijuana plant plastered in the middle of it. It was messy, but not disgusting. It smelled like cologne and old spice.

Theo let go of my hand after he shut the door behind us, walking over to the window to prop it open. He picked up a marbled green and black glass bong, walking over to the sink to fill it with water.

"You know how to pack weed?" He asked.

I shook my head, shyly sitting down on the edge of his bed. He nodded, walking back over to his bed to stand in front of me. He took the weed and began packing it in. He got it all ready, grabbed his lighter and lit the bong. He took a long hit, pulling back and opening his mouth to take a gasp in. Theo held it in for a few seconds, then leaning out the window to blow the smoke into the atmosphere.

"Here, your turn.." He walked back over to me, handing me the bong.

I held it in my hands, putting it up to my mouth as Theo held the lighter against the weed to light it for me. He pulled the plug out after a few seconds to let me take in all the smoke. I tilted my head towards the window and blew out, coughing.

Between coughs I managed to speak out, "Haven't.. done this.. in a while.." I giggled.

Theo smiled at me, taking another quick hit before setting the bong down on his nightstand. He sat down next to me on the bed, leaning back so his back hit the wall. I sighed, glancing around his room.

"Come on, lay back.. Take a load off." Theo suggested, pulling at my arm.

I leaned backwards, laying down next to him. My brain quickly got foggy from the previous alcohol and now the weed. I sighed, looking up at the ceiling as I felt Theo's gaze focus on me. I looked to my side, smiling at him.

"What are you thinking?" Theo asked quietly.

I hummed for a moment before giving my answer, "I dont know, honestly.." I giggled, "Nothing, I guess."

Theo chuckled, looking up at the ceiling. I sat up, shaking myself out of the wings that were on my back. I moved my legs to lay down at the head of the bed. Theo followed suit.

"How long have we known each other now..? Like six years or something like that." Theo asked, his words a bit slurred from the intoxicating smoke he inhaled a few minutes earlier.

"Something like that.." I agree, huffing. My heart was beginning to beat faster and it felt like I had a lack of lungs in my air.

I placed a hand on my heart, making sure my body was still functioning correctly. Theo eyed me, then placed his hand over mine.

His hand over mine was warm, like a spark of fire just lit between our connection. "You okay?" He asked.

I nodded, giving a small 'mhm'. My eyes fluttered closed as I lay there with the hottest guy in all of Hogwarts who had his hand on my chest. Maybe I was just high and hallucinating. Yeah, that's probably it.

I continued on with thinking I was hallucinating until I felt his hand slowly move from on top of mine to on top of my breast. It was a lingering touch, he held his hand for a few seconds before his fingers started to pry back the corset top I was wearing, easing his hand under and on to my boob.

Before I could comprehend what was happening, Theo looked at me with genuine care in his eyes. "Is um.. this okay?"

I nodded, vigorously.

"Use your words.." He coo'd.

"Yes.. Yes, this is good.." I stumbled over my words, watching and feeling his hand slip lower and lower into my top.

I felt his pinky finger brush over my nipple, the sudden sensation caused a chill to vibrate through my body. His thumb and index finger pinched and swirled my nipple between them. I bit my bottom lip, my eyes wandering from the ceiling to his face. He had a stupid smirk on it, watching my body squirm due to his simple touch.

"How easy is this corset to take off?" He questioned, pulling his hand out from under it and nudging me to sit up so he could take a look.

"Not hard, just um-" I paused to think, my intoxicated brain was not working the way it should. "Untie the tie and then pull the strings apart." I guided him.

He did as I told him, and before I knew it my corset was being thrown on the floor and I was left sitting topless on his bed. Theo's eyes wandered up and down my body, and I suddenly could feel every insecurity I've ever had seeping into my brain. I went to wrap my arms around myself but before I could Theo grabbed my wrist, pulling it back to my side.

"Why do you want to cover up such a beautiful body?" He spoke softly.

I shrugged, not having an answer for him. Soon, Theo was leaning forward towards me. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my lips, shocking me in the process.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yes! I'm very good.. Just- high," I giggled, "But this is nice! Keep going.. Please"

Theo smirked an evil smirk at the words that just came out of my mouth, "Good girl, using her manners."

I went to smile but before I could his lips crashed against mine, his one hand moving around my neck to settle on the dip beneath my head. He pushed our faces impossibly closer together. I was blushing, hard, my face was red hot and I felt as if any second I would start to sweat.

Theo's other hand found it's way down to my chest, kneading both boobs in one of his hands. His tongue jammed into my mouth, searching for something that was no where to be found. We stayed like that for a minute, tongues bumping into each other and saliva swapping between us. He pinched my nipples which caused me to pull back and yelp. That just made Theo smile wider.

He used the opportunity of me pulling back from him to kiss down my neck, onto my collarbone and my chest, finally ending up at my boobs. He took one nipple into his mouth and sucked on it. I tried to stifle my moan by biting my tongue.

He backed away from my nipple with a pop, "So pretty.. Can't believe we've never done this before."

My brain short circuited for a moment, "You've thought about this before?"

He laughed quickly, before going back to kneading my boobs with both hands. "How could I not, cara mia? You've sat in front of me in Muggle Studies for the past two years. I see your beautiful body every time you go to stand up or sit down.."

His words made me blush. I giggled at him and his confession. "You're cute, Nott."

He smiled at me for just a second before his eyes turned lust filled. He trailed his one hand from my chest down to beneath my short skirt, coming in contact with the white thong I wore. His fingers circled over the underwear as he looked up at me. Ever so slowly, he moved them over to the side and his fingers were now touching parts of me I only dreamed of him touching.

His index and middle finger made small, quick circles around the bundle of nerves. I laid back on his pillows, watching as he so carefully took control over me.

He looked up at me through his eyelashes, his mouth opening slightly and his eyes widened. Before I could ask if he was okay, I felt those same two fingers jam into me. My body shivered and a moan fell out from my lips.

He licked his lips, eyes flicking between his fingers pumping in and out of me and my face. "So.." He paused his movements, "tight." He jammed them back in, going deeper than I ever thought was possible. My back arched off the bed at his sudden movements. I was at his disposal and he knew it.

"So good, cara mia. So good.." He whispered, leaning his face down closer to my core as he stuck his tongue out and licked it.

I gasped, my hands flying to the edges of the bed to steady myself. He continued to lick up and down, occasionally sucking on the bud. It felt heavenly, this obviously was not the first time he had done this.

"Theo.. fuck me.." I managed to squeak out between moans. This made him smile at me.

"Your wish is my command, darling." He smirked, unbuttoning his suit pants.

I leaned up to help him, unbuttoning his top and loosening the tie as he worked to take his trousers off. Soon, his clothes were discarded on the floor. Except for his tie, he held onto his tie. I looked questioningly at it, my eyebrow raised.

"Put your hands together, behind your back." He demanded.

I did as I was told, and he used the red tie to bind my hands together behind me. He pushed me backwards, my shoulders hitting the soft mattress.

"Are you sure about this?" He leaned down closer to my face, planting soft kisses on my neck.

"Yes, please. Please, Theo." I begged, squirming beneath him.

The lust in his eyes grew as he pulled my panties and skirt down my legs. He shimmied his boxers off, exposing his impressive shaft. He had a reputation at school of having BDE (big dick energy) and I could now confirm that the rumors were true. Very true.

He wrapped his hand around it, pumping it a few times. He was rock hard, just from touching me. It was a bit of an ego boost, I wont lie.

He lined himself up with my core, pushing in painfully slow. I bit my lip, trying to quiet my moans but it was no use. I moaned loudly, causing his face to snap up at me.

"Quiet, cara mia." He warned, wrapping the hand that wasn't gripping my waist around my neck.

It was a light touch, until it wasn't. Theo began pushing himself in and out of me, faster until he was at a brutal pace. His hand around my neck tightened, my brain becoming more foggy than it already was. He continued on, using my core however he wanted to. My hands longed to touch him, but the tie around my wrists made it impossible.

"Flip over.." He said after pulling out, watching as I struggled to move from my back to my stomach.

He pulled my ass into the air, forcing me to arch my back into the bed. He pushed back in, hitting deeper than he was before. He pulled my hair into a ponytail, tugging on it so I was forced to press my back to his chest.

"Pretty angel.." He cooed in my ear, "Getting absolutely destroyed." He smirked.

I looked over my shoulder at him, the skeleton face paint still intact. It made him even hotter than he already was, if that was possible. His tongue was stuck out just slightly, curling around his bottom lip in concentration. His hips continued to buck up into me.

"Im close, Theo.." I whined.

"Good girl, go on. Finish all over me." He whispered, continuing his unrelenting pace.

I came undone on his shaft. My body was shaking and my breathing was staggered as I fell forward onto the pillows.

He moaned out random words of praise, before I heard him say "I'm gonna come too."

He groaned, erratically slamming his hips into mine. He pulled out at the last second, his hand wrapping around to stroke himself to finishing. His thick cum was all up my ass and back. We both moaned out a sigh of relief.

Theo stayed behind me for a second, before he patted his hand on my ass and got off the bed. He returned a few seconds later with a towel he used to wipe me down, being gentle like I truly was an angel in his arms.

"How was that?" He asked, smirking.

"Great.. Amazing.." I said, my chest still heaving for air.

He scooted me over to the inside of the bed, laying down next to me. He pulled me into his arms, leaving the softest kisses on the top of my head.

"Oh, cara mia. You did so well.." He praised me, running a hand through my hair and untying my wrists

We sat there for a few minutes, enjoying the moment. I traced shapes on his chest with my now free hand. I could hear the music from the party playing in the distance. I heard commotion from all sorts of people, drunk and high.

"Do you wanna go back to the party?" Theo asked after a while, moving my chin up to plant a kiss on my lips.

"No.. I don't think I can walk." I giggle.

He smiled down at me, laying back into the mattress.

[sturnmeovr]

♡‧₊˚ Video Clips of Sweethearts Pregnancy - First Trimester

♡ 'who said Pepsi kills sperm?' - video length: 33 seconds

Chris holds his phone in his hand, looking into the camera as he brings a half empty Pepsi can up to his mouth, taking a long swig before double tapping his screen. The camera switches, revealing Sweethearts small figure leaning against the bathroom counter, three positive pregnancy tests placed on the counter next her. Chris smiles bright, zooming in on the pregnancy tests, and panning the camera to the mirror as he wraps an arm around her waist. He pulls her into his embrace, pressing a light kiss to her temple before ending the video. Chris makes sure to type the caption, 'who said Pepsi kills sperm??', saving the video to his camera roll, and shoving his phone into his pocket.

♡ 'yikes' - video length: 12 seconds

Chris stands in the doorway of the bathroom, running a hand thru his hair as he looks into the camera. Gut wrenching gags fill the room as Sweetheart empties the contents of her stomach into the toilet. Morning sickness was kicking her ass, and the baby didn't agree with anything she choose to eat, whether she craved it or not. Chris double taps the screen, pointing the camera in her direction before quickly double tapping it again to show his face, he plasters a sarcastic smile on lips and mouths the words, "yikes," before ending the video.

♡ 'Baby bean🧡' - video length: 47 seconds

Chris focuses the camera on Sweethearts belly, the ultrasound technician moves the camera probe across her small bump, spreading the cold gel as she keeps her eyes glued to the screen. Chris pans the camera up to Sweethearts face, she gives him a nervous smile before he redirects the camera to the ultrasound screen. A staticky heartbeat sounds thru the speaker, making a light gasp leave both of their lips in unison as the black and white blurs become easier to piece together. The ultrasound tech chuckles, "very active one we have here," she coos, clicking a few buttons to capture the right image. Once the recording is over, Chris captions it 'Baby bean🧡" and sends it to family and close friends.

♡ 'Dr. Sturniolo' - video length: 18 seconds

Sweetheart lies reclined back in a hospital bed, pointing her phone at the closed privacy curtain, she's trying her best to hold back her giggles. Chris pulls the curtain back, revealing himself dressed in a white lab coat, letting her laughter break free. He steps goofily to her bedside, snapping his blue latex gloves against his wrist before placing a hand on her knee and dramatically trying to pry open her legs, "c'mon, baby," he coos, laughter seeping thru the crack of his words, "open them legs and let Dr. Sturniolo take a look." His face fills the frame, a playful smile sown into his lips as he wiggles his eyebrows at her before she ends the video.

♡ 'who tf told her that? 😭😭' - video length: 14 seconds

Chris records the floor, his bare feet echoing off the hardwood as he pushes his bedroom door open. There she was - wearing nothing but one of his Lets Trip hoodies and her panties as she hung upside down off his bed, her face beat red from all the blood rushing to her brain, and her growing bump protruding out of his hoodie she had on, "the hell are you doing kid?" he chuckles, raised brows and a suggestive smirk on his face. Sweetheart looks at him with a sour expression before propping herself upright, "I heard that hanging upside down stops nausea." Chris gives her a funny look, ending the video, and typing 'who tf told her that? 😭😭' across the screen as a caption.

♡ 'my babymomma 🥵' - video length: 12 Seconds

A blanket draped over her shoulders as she sleepily stumbles into Matts room, leaning against the door frame, "are you coming?" Sweetheart whines at Chris who was sprawled out on his brother's bed, his phone pointed towards her with a bright smile on his face, "y'look good, baby." Once she realizes he's recording her, she covers her face with the blanket she's cocooned in, "Chris st-," the video comes to an abrupt end before she can get the words out. The captions reads: "my babymomma 🥵'

♡ 'reason 193793 why I love her' - video length: 7 seconds

"No way that's happening," Chris eggs Sweetheart on, his dirty thoughts running rampant in his mind. Sweetheart was naive, not thinking anything of his sexual innuendos. She eases the glazed donut into her mouth, only taking notice of her babydaddy's suggestive smirk and raised eyebrows after she succeeds her mission. Muffling out a, "hey!" at the end. This one of Chris' favorite videos of Sweetheart, it shows her goofy side which he absolutely adores since she's usually shy around most people.

♡ 'thank the lord!' - video length: 38 seconds

Chris pushes the box of Mcdonalds nuggets across the kitchen island, giving Sweetheart uneasy look as he focuses the camera on her. She looked drained; like Bella Swan when she was pregnant with Renesmae, she felt like it too. Sweetheart bravely opens the box of nuggets, pulling one out, and taking a small bite. She didn't care if it sent her running to the toilet, the baby growing inside her said her body needed food now. Surprisingly, the chicken nuggets didn't taste disgusting, "sweet n sour?" she croaks out, somewhat relived that baby Bean was finally a agreeing with something she ate. Chris slides her a sauce cup, Sweetheart dips her nugget before taking another bite. She looks up, giving Chris a nod of approval, seconds later he thrusts a fist into air, "thank the lord!" He felt accomplished - having suggested the nuggets to Sweetheart, rushing to McDonalds, and waiting twenty minutes in line for them.

♡ 'GYATT DAMNNN' - video length: 4 seconds

A short clip of Chris recording Sweethearts as she pushes a shopping cart thru target, zooming in on her ass as she walked down the baby clothes aisle. Chris admired what pregnancy did to her body, adding weight to all the right places. Her skin glowed and boobs sat on top of her bump so perfectly, but her ass was his favorite part. He’d give her ten babies if her ass looked like that every time she was pregnant. He captions the video, "GYATT DAMNNN' and saves it to his 'my eyes only' on snapchat.

♡ 'tbh my biggest flex is nutting in her' - video length: 11 seconds

The clips starts with Sweetheart lying in bed, her glasses pushed to her nose with Cheez-its scattered over her barely noticeable belly bump. She takes a sip from her pink stanley cup, plucking one of the squared orange crackers to plop in her mouth, making Chris beam from behind the camera. He loved her so much. Chris marks the caption, 'tbh my biggest flex is nutting in her,' and sends it to all of his close circle, including poor Mary Lou.

♡‧₊˚ Cheys Note - I want to give credits to @kiemiu & @phone4pills for the video clips idea bc their posts were literal perfection and inspired me so much to do this! 😍 I absolutely loovvee the idea of this and may do something else like this in the future if everyone likes it! <3

Babydaddy!Chris Masterlist

Masterlist

Taglist (comment to be added)

Send me asks or suggestions about my au's! <3

[hannyoontify]

seventeen '97 line as things that have made my heart flutter

warnings | smidge of academic stress in hao's, jealousy [reader's end] in mingyu's, reader is light enough to be moved? in mingyu's, implications of alcohol consumption in dokyeoms (oh my god what happened to 'none :3'), dokyeom calls reader 'pretty'

notes | learned today that extremely fast and aggressive jazz stimulates my brain in a way i've never experienced before so i decided to make the best of it LMFAO

p.s. i recommend reading these as situationships/pre-relationships

95 line | 96 line | 97 line | maknae line

the8 - facetiming at 3 in the morning

“hao? are you asleep?”

you heard muffled shuffling on the other side of the line and minghao’s camera, which was turned on and was currently facing the ceiling, moved around until you saw his eyes peek over the edge of the screen.

“no, i was reading. how’s the homework coming along?” his voice was impossibly soft and soothing, like a gentle lullaby sung to an infant to lull it to sleep. the question made you groan loudly and you dragged a hand through your tired face.

“i hate this. i have two questions left.”

minghao hummed over the line. “mmm… you got this, i believe in you. do you want my help?”

you shook your head. “no, i know how to do it, it’s just…” you let out a strangled yell and wrapped your blanket closer around your body. “i just don’t want to do it.”

“hmm… poor baby. c’mon. you can do it. if there’s anyone who can do it, it’s you.” minghao’s gentle words seemed to reach into your ribcage and grab your heart, gently squeezing until you felt something warm and familiar crawling up your spine. you observed the way his eyes curved into crescent shaped moons when he smiled. the bright green frog headband on his head that made his jet black hair stick out in unnatural directions. 

“… you didn’t have to stay up with me, you know.” you mumbled. while you were thankful for minghao’s adamant attitude to stay on call with you until you finished your ap chemistry homework, even if it meant staying up until the most ungodly hours of the night, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the thought of him losing sleep because of you. 

“and leave you to crash out all on your own? what kind of friend would i be if i missed out on that?” minghao snorted on the other end of the line but when you gave no response, his voice softened. “you don’t need to worry about me, [name]. now get back to work, those FRQ’s aren’t going to solve themselves.”

when you warbled out another series of exasperated ‘don’t wanna’s’ and ‘i hate my life’s, minghao puffed over the line. “what do you want, [name].”

shifting your weight to rest your head on your desk, your eyes drifted to your phone propped up in the corner of your desk, where minghao’s screen remained facing the ceiling. there was an occasional crinkle on the other side of the line, where he was tossing and turning in his bed, no doubt. the blank, white canvas of his ceiling was the last thing you wanted to see right now.

“wanna see you, hao.” you mumbled. it was barely above a whisper and you doubted your crappy phone mic would’ve picked up the sound. but of course, it did.

you could almost hear the cocky smile in his voice as he spoke. “oh, i see how it is. you wanna see my face, huh?”

“shut up. forget i said anything.” pursing your lips, you pretended to turn back to your neglected ap chemistry homework so he wouldn’t see the way your face was beginning to flush.

minghao laughed loudly, clearly enjoying your pain and misery as you wallowed in your embarrassment. “it’s okay to ask for what you want, [name]. it’s natural.”

“whatever! shush, i’m trying to focus.” biting down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, you tried your best to conceal the smile that was threatening to spill. minghao had that kind of effect on you. like an infectious disease that had your heart constantly racing, your palms sweaty, and your face a bright shade of red.

mingyu - grabbing the leg of your chair and pulling you closer towards his direction

mingyu was a force to be reckoned with. you recognized that the minute he introduced himself to you back in freshman year. the way he greeted you with a bright smile before turning around to greet all four other tables surrounding your shared table. before you knew it, the smiley boy had managed to befriend one entire side of the classroom, all within 15 minutes of class starting.

sure, he was easy on the eyes, but you knew it was more than that. it was the sparkle in his eye. the mischievous smile that seemed to announce that he was up to no good. it was the way he genuinely made an effort to connect and hear everything the other person had to say. he was a good person.

you, on the other hand, were not.

of course, mingyu would scoff and roll his eyes at that. he didn’t think you were a bad person, you were simply not as… friendly as he was. it wasn’t that you were rude, but you liked to keep to yourself. you liked to keep conversations, especially with people you were less than friends with, to a minimum. talking was exhausting, and making small talk was the absolute worst. silence was your best friend.

well, besides for mingyu.

or should you say ex-best friend. 

(you were joking. kinda.)

you silently huffed to yourself as mingyu flashed another friendly smile to the girl sitting across the aisle from him. his hands were busy enough, but it seemed to you that mingyu was too busy flirting with the girl to actually pay attention to the lab he was supposed to be doing. with you.

“gyu…” you called out quietly. “gyu…!” you called out again, a tad louder in volume.

mingyu whipped his head and smiled. “yeah?”

you felt a pang of guilt shoot through you at his innocent smile.

“we should get started on the lab.” waving the instruction sheet in your hand, you motioned to the microscope on the table before you.

“okay! one sec. lemme finish explaining this vanessa real quick and–“ mingyu faltered when he felt you gently tug on the sleeve of his lab coat. he looked at you with a confused look in his eyes, but his confusion soon changed into one of mischief once he recognized the slight scowl on your face. “ohhh, i see what it is. are you jealous right now?”

“no! as if…” you mumbled. “you’re supposed to be my lab partner, you know.”

mingyu let out a quiet chuckle and tousled your hair with his hand affectionately. “you’re cute.”

“shut up. i’m going to do the lab without you.”

with a dramatic sigh, mingyu leaned over, his face now inches away from yours. you could feel his hot breath on your cheek and it was like the world went momentarily still. there was a familiar tightening in your chest as your face began to warm. 

you felt a gentle tug beneath you, followed by a gentle rumble as mingyu dragged your chair closer to where he was. you thanked your lucky stars for mingyu’s baggy lab coat, or else, you were more than positive that you would’ve been able to see his muscles bulging through his shirt and god knows what that would do to you.

once mingyu felt satisfied with your seating arrangement, he leaned back in his chair with a proud smile. “there. shall we get started now?”

dokyeom - taking off your glasses when (he thinks) you’re asleep

you feel like dead weight. all four limbs attached to your body don’t feel like yours and you were 99% positive that soonyoung’s homemade fruit punch was laced with something, despite his claims of it being ‘family-friendly’. you groaned quietly. there was a pulsating headache slowly forming and you turned over onto your side, curling into a fetal position in an attempt to make yourself comfortable. 

to be honest, you weren’t entirely sure where you were. after having your social battery getting absolutely drained in a matter of 30 minutes at soonyoung’s halloween party, you stumbled upstairs and climbed into the first bed you saw. surely, soonyoung, or whoever this room belonged to, wouldn’t mind. 

the thud of the bass could be felt through the walls, which really wasn’t helping your case of what seemed to be a growing migraine. as you began to silently pray to any greater deity to stop the incoming migraine, you heard the door creak open slowly and you braced yourself to curse out whatever poor and innocent soul decided to walk in on you trying to take a nap. 

“[name]? are you in here?” the gentle and quiet words hung in the air, and you felt the air leave your lungs for a moment, suspending time.

it was seokmin.

your eyes remained shut but could hear him shuffling over to the side of bed where you remained in a fetal position. he held a cold hand against your forehead, sending a slight chill down your back. 

“no fever…” seokmin mumbled to himself. “[name]? are you awake?”

you really wished you could open your eyes and smile at the sweet boy who was in front of you, but you couldn’t muster the strength in your body to do anything. it was like you lost control of your body.

seokmin tsked under his breath as he muttered something about falling victim to soonyoung’s devil’s juice and something else about reporting to poison control. he reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his soft hand gently grazing your cheek as he did.

“here, let’s…” there was a gentle tug on the metal frames of your glasses that rested somewhat crookedly on your face, before it was pulled entirely. you heard two small clinks of metal as seokmin folded the arms and set down on the bedside table. “don’t want them to break again, do we?”

he chuckled gently, as if reminded by that one time you accidentally broke the frame of your favorite glasses after walking into a pole. you were deadly embarrassed, but seokmin thought it was the funniest thing in the world. 

there was a gentle dip at the edge of the mattress. you would estimate that it was a few inches away from your face and you tried your best to will your heart to steady itself.

“so pretty…” seokmin mumbled to himself. was he talking about you? oh, god. 

“i’ll let you sleep some more. good night, [name].” the mattress shifted again, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. there were another pair of footsteps however, that you felt drawing near to your heart.

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

i'm soooo glad you're back!!! love your writting so much, was thinking about some ghostface¡ tate or shit yk...like everyone who flirts with reader end murdered

i’m sorry this took me so long to do 😔 but i sorta did my own twist on this request, hope you don’t mind… i love it… anyway… :)

~~~

Lovefool

Tate Langdon x f!reader

warnings: murder, smut, stalking, obsession, very toxic, manipulation, very minor talk of drug use… virgins, yeah idk what else it’s just stalker tate being crazy for you

summary: tate’s loved you since the first moment you met, and he would do anything to be with you… anything…

word count: 4.4

~~~

2011

You stare at the boy in front of you, a mix of emotions stirring inside you. He’s your age still, you aren’t too surprised at that. You’re more surprised at the fact that he’s in front of you. It’s been so long since the last time you saw him. You remember the pain, the pure fear that paralyzed your body the last time the two of you had an encounter. It still makes you uneasy.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice weak.

He shrugs. “It’s Halloween.”

“There’s been plenty of Halloweens Tate and this is the first time I’ve seen you here. What do you want?” You reply in a harsher tone than.

Tate shrugs again and starts to play with the sleeves of his sweater. You can’t believe this is real. You want to close your eyes and pretend this is all a sick dream, though you haven’t slept in years. After a few seconds, you cross your arms over your chest and take a deep breath. This isn’t going to be easy.

“Tate the fact you even have the balls to try to find me is crazy, what happened? Did you suddenly feel some sense of guilt? Are you finally sorry for what you did to me? I don’t even care if you are sorry, I don’t care about anything except the one question I’ve wondered since the night it happened,” you say.

“What question?” He responds.

“Why?” Your eyes start to burn. “Why did you kill me?”

~~~

1993

Tate had never seen any girl as beautiful as you. Never. Not in a movie, not in a magazine, nothing. From the first time he saw you in kindergarten, he knew there was something special about you. Of course, he didn’t know it would grow into what it did until middle school when his hormones took over. His feelings for you quickly transitioned from a pure crush to a sick obsession. And the best and worst part of it all was that you had no idea.

You never really spoke to him. He was out of your league. You were popular, but not braindead popular like the people you surrounded yourself with. Tate had seen you in some of your classes. You were smart, you got the best grades in those classes. You had plans for yourself after high school, unlike your friends. That knowledge only made him admire you more.

The problems began when you started going out with one of the popular boys in your group, David. He was awful for you; Tate didn’t understand why you chose to have such a relationship with someone like that. He’d watch how David would wrap his arms around you in the hallways, leave small kisses on your cheeks, and whisper words in your ears that made your face turn bright red. It made him furious.

What did David have that he didn’t? Why was he so special? Tate knew he could give you more than David ever could. So, why were you with him?

Tate quickly became blinded by rage and jealousy.

At night he’d lie awake, the knowledge that you might’ve been out there opening your legs for another boy making him sick. That’s when the fantasies began. He imagined killing David. How would he do it? Where? In what way would leave the least amount of blood on his clothes? The image of his mutilated body consumed Tate’s thoughts. He liked it.

It was around that time that he had found the mask.

It was a strange mask he found in the basement. It had a long white face with black holes for the eyes and a long mouth. He wondered which resident of his house had left it there for him. He didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care. All he knew from the second his eyes fell upon that mask was that bad things were going to happen.

He started going out at night and driving by David’s house. The mask he wore gave him a sense of power he never knew he could feel. At first, it was innocent. He’d simply drive down the other boy's road and look through his window for a few minutes before leaving. But all it took was one second of seeing you inside to blow the whole thing up. He was livid, seeing red. He decided he needed to bring his fantasies to life and get rid of David for good.

Halloween was when the opportunity to kill David became undeniable. By that point, Tate had been stalking the two of you for a month so he knew the basics. Which room was Davids, how to get into his house, and where his parents were most likely going to be. He had it all planned out. So, on Halloween night he put on the mask along with black robes that covered his entire body and ventured to the other boy's house, ready to kill.

He brought a knife, and when the time was just right, he snuck in through one of David’s open windows and started his game. He crept through the empty house, not making a sound. Getting to David’s room only took him a few minutes and what he heard from outside the door made him not regret his choice at all.

“Yeah, I know, listen she’s so close to finally giving it up to me and that’s what I’ve been working for this whole time. Once it happens, I’ll dump her, easy,” David spoke into his phone. His voice was cocky. It made Tate clench his jaw in frustration.

“Because dude, do you know how many girls from school I’ve already got under my belt? Y/N is just gonna be a name on my list. Yeah, whatever, I gotta go anyway I need to shower for the party, maybe I’ll get lucky, and she’ll drink too much. Okay bye.”

Before David could even get up from his chair, Tate kicked the door down and stormed in, too overpowered by his rage to think about anything but slitting the other boy's throat. He pounced on him, stabbing the knife into any part of his body he could reach. David screamed, but Tate quickly silenced him by shoving the knife down his throat. He felt empowered, he felt thrilled at the sight of his dead peer. It was amazing.

Tate didn’t waste much time gawking over his achievement, however. Once he was sure David was dead, he quickly pulled the knife out of the boy and fled out the window and back to his car. As he drove through the small neighborhoods of your guys' town, he wondered how big the news would be. Would you cry? He hoped you wouldn’t. Not over that asshole. You would move on, and Tate would wait however long it took.

~~~

The news of David’s death spread faster than wildfire and consumed Westfield High’s drama for weeks. Out of all the kids in the school, you took his death hardest. Seeing you so depressed almost made Tate regret his actions. He couldn’t bear seeing you tear up in class or show up to school two periods late. You weren’t like that.

However, as the days turned into weeks, you started to appear healthier and happier, and soon enough you were back to your normal self. Tate was glad, you were always so much prettier when you paid attention in class. He decided it was time for the second part of his plan to finally act. Though he was incredibly nervous, he knew it was then or never. He couldn’t risk you getting a new boyfriend that he’d have to kill again.

So, one day, he followed you into the library when the two of you coincidently had a study hall during the same period. His heart was beating so loud he could hear it in his ears. There you were. sitting at one of the tables alone studying, and he was going to speak to you. He’d thought up conversation starters all morning along with taking a few extra hits off his bong to help with the anxiety.

He shook the nervous thoughts from his head and grabbed his notebook from his backpack before walking in your direction. Your head was down, your hand moved aggressively across the paper as you wrote your notes. Tate stood at the other side of the table for a few seconds simply admiring you. His hands were shaky, his breathing uneasy. God, you made him lose his composure by existing. It was excruciating.

After he was done staring, he spoke, his voice quiet. “Hey y/n, do you mind maybe helping me with some of that psych homework?”

Your head shot up, your eyes instantly meeting his. He swore he couldn’t breathe. You, y/n, were looking at him on purpose. At that moment he didn’t care about what you were going to say, he didn’t care if you completely rejected him. All he cared about was how good it felt to have your eyes on him. Such innocent, loving eyes.

“Oh, yeah of course Tate that’s actually what I’m working on right now. Just sit, we can do it together. Unless you’re like super behind,” you answered.

“Are- Are you sure?” He couldn’t help the uncertainty. Did you really say yes to him?

“Yeah... should I not be?” You replied with a smile.

“No- sorry.” He sat down across from you. He could smell your perfume; he’d never been this close to you. “I just wasn’t sure if you even knew who I was.”

You chuckled. “How could I not know who you are? We’ve literally been in the same school system together since kindergarten.”

“I don’t know. You’re you know popular and stuff,” he said as he opened his notebook.

“Not really, besides even if I was that wouldn’t automatically make me forget anyone. But anyway, you can use my notes in a second, I’m almost done with the page,” you responded. You looked back down at your work and started writing again.

Tate nodded despite you not paying attention and watched as you wrote. He felt like that whole conversation was another one of his daydreams about you. Was he really sitting across from you? Or was it another mid-class nap? He cracked his knuckles to make sure he wasn’t dreaming and thankfully, he wasn’t. It was all real life.

“Sorry if this comes out as creepy, but I feel like I haven’t seen you around in a while. I mean, when was the last time we even spoke?” You suddenly spoke, your eyes back on his.

“I guess you weren’t looking hard enough to see me,” he said with a shrug. All his confidence was a facade because on the inside he was losing his mind.

He noticed the way your cheeks slightly turned pink before you replied. “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t. But I should have been.”

He knew deep down you were going to be his for so long, but at that point, he knew he had already achieved his goal. You were his.

~~~

“What is this place?” You asked as you clutched your cardigan around your body.

Tate smiled and grabbed both of your hands in his. “I told you it’s a surprise. Patience is a virtue.”

“I have patience, but I also have a lower body temperature than usual and it’s bothering me so I would really appreciate it if you’d just take me to the surprise already,” you said, a small smile forming on your lips.

“It’s seventy degrees.”

“Yeah, but it’s also windy at the beach and it’s probably colder than seventy because of the ocean’s temperature.”

Tate sighed and leaned his head down to press a small kiss on your lips, a feeling he still hadn’t gotten over. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Terrible, naughty things I hope,” you replied, kissing him again. “But please lead me to your special surprise beach spot.”

Though he wanted to stand there and kiss you all night, Tate obeyed your request and began to lead you further down the beach. It had been a few months since the two of you started talking, and to say it progressed would be an understatement. Tate had truly underestimated how easy it would be to capture your attention. All you wanted was a sweet, caring, genuine boy and he could be all those things easily.

So, after a month of being friends, he asked you out and you said yes. The relationship grew deeper with each day, and it didn’t disappoint him one bit. He loved everything about you. The way you’d lie on your bed with him and talk for hours, the way you’d make your relationship with him public by holding his hand in the halls, and most importantly the way you never expected or wanted him to change to fit in with your friends. You liked him for who he was, and it melted his heart.

It was your three-month anniversary, and Tate wanted to make it special. Even though he knew before the two of you got together that you were a virgin, he didn’t know to what extent you were. He quickly became aware you had done most things already, just not full sex. At first, he was annoyed at the fact that you weren’t completely his because he had never done anything with a girl before you. But after the first night, you went down on him, he wasn’t that upset anymore.

On this night he planned to take the next step with you. He had it all set up. The blankets, the lights, all of it. As the sight of his setup came into view, he watched your face light up. You squeezed his hand and grinned up at him.

“Is this really for me?” You asked.

“Yeah, do you like it?” He replied.

You nodded and sped up to reach it, dragging him with you. Once you made it you dropped down to sit on the blanket, urging Tate to do the same. “This is so cool. You’re the first boy to ever do something like this for me. I love it.”

“I’m glad, I know how you like sentimental things,” he said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “And I’ve been wanting to show you this spot for a while. I used to come here a lot as a kid and watch the waves with my dad... before he left. I wanted to make it special with you because you’re not like my dad. Right?”

“No, I’m not. I won’t ever do anything to hurt you like that. I lo- I like you Tate, a lot.”

Tate only stared into your eyes, his heart beating faster than it ever had in his life. You almost said you loved him. He knew then that night was going to be the night you finally gave yourself to him. Something in your eyes made him certain. Your eyes were dark. You stared up at him as if he were the only boy in the world. There was a feeling in the air, one of lust and fear.

“I’ll never want to hurt you either,” he mumbled after a few seconds. “I doubt I ever could.”

You gave him a small smile and placed one of your hands on his cheek. You caressed the skin with your thumb as you slowly started to lean your face toward his. He accepted your lips on him, kissing back instantly. It was the moment he’d been working up to for years. He was finally going to lose his virginity to you, and you to him. Nothing would ever compare.

~~~

The sound of Nirvana mixed with skin slapping filled Tate’s room. He couldn’t help the moan that left his lips when he looked down at you. Your back was arched so perfectly, your waist looked impossibly small, and your ass looked incredibly big. The side of your face was smushed against one of Tate’s pillows. You were so red, so loud you had to bite your hand to spare the whole house from hearing. Tate took in a deep breath and slapped your ass, his thrusts not faltering for even a second.

“Fuck baby, you look so pretty right now. You take me so well,” he whispered. He wrapped some of your hair around his hand and yanked you up, making you practically scream. “Yeah, you like that. You like being manhandled y/n?”

You let out another moan but didn’t reply. Tate slapped your ass again and threw you back down to the mattress. He leaned over you, your sweaty body feeling perfect against his. He was close to finishing. He’d already made you cum a few times that day, so he wasn’t too concerned about where you were. All he was concerned about was getting closer to you before he came.

“I love controlling you, you’re so helpless. Fuck I’m so close,” he mumbled in your ear. “You’re mine, all fucking mine forever. I’ll kill anyone who even tries to take you away from me.”

You made a noise and Tate couldn’t hold back any longer. He came inside you, his cock pulsing heavily. You groaned; his cock was hitting your cervix too hard it hurt. He waited a minute or so before finally pulling out and moving to the spot next to you on the bed. He’d never felt anything as amazing as having sex with you. He was breathless.

He was so caught up in his thoughts about what just happened that he didn’t notice your sad expression. When he eventually looked at you, he saw your frown. Immediately he turned to his side and faced you, reaching out one of his hands to brush a few of your hairs behind your ear.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you replied.

“It doesn’t look like nothing you look sad; you can tell me whatever it is.”

You sighed and turned your head to meet his gaze. “Why do you like hurting me? Like during sex and stuff. You’re always so rough and I don’t know you’re really mean and sometimes the stuff you say is… scary.”

“How is it scary?” He laughed.

“You said you’d kill anyone who would try to take me away from you,” you said.

“Yeah, I would. I swear I’ve said this shit to you before. I would do anything for you, or to keep you,” he responded.

“Don’t joke about that Tate, you know I’m scared of killers because of what happened.”

“Oh, so this is about David? Why are you even thinking about him y/n he’s been dead for months. Do you miss him, or something is that it?” He questioned; his tone harsher than before.

You scoffed and sat up. “You’re seriously making this about me missing David?”

“Well, is that what this is about?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered before you stood up and started to get dressed.

“Oh, my fucking God y/n I’m sorry for whatever I said wrong while we were fucking. Can we just move on already? I don’t see what the big deal is,” he snapped.

“No, we can’t just move on. You scare me sometimes Tate like genuinely. I know you mean it all in a sweet way but it’s weird. I love you but you don’t hear me saying I’d kill people if they talked to you or looked at you a certain way. That’s not normal.”

Tate sat up. “I wish you would say those things. I wish you loved me as much as I love you. I’d do anything you ask; I would shoot up the fucking school if you wanted me to.”

You looked at him, he could see the terror and fear in your eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Of course, I am. I don’t get why you’re acting so scared. I’d never hurt you I don’t even think I could if I wanted to, you mean more to me than any person alive or dead,” he answered.

“You’re sick,” you mumbled. You grabbed your bag and walked to the door. “I think we need some time apart; you aren’t sane.”

His heart practically stopped. “What?”

“We need to stop seeing each other for a little while, I can’t take this insane shit Tate. I’m sorry. You know I love you, but I need you to get some help before I can be with you.”

Before Tate could reply, you left. All he could do was stare at the door, a million thoughts roaming his head. Did you really just break up with him? Was that it? Did you just throw away everything the two of you had because you felt his love was too strong? It didn’t feel real.

As the night progressed, he tried to call you, dozens of times. But each call was either declined or rang out. His anxiety grew with each ring of the phone. Why weren’t you replying? Who were you seeing? Did he really mean so little to you that you could leave so easily? His mind spun with scenarios, each one worse than the last. By the end of the night, he had convinced himself you were cheating on him, and the following days only worsened his state of madness.

You ignored him completely in school. Every time he tried to talk to you, you either turned away or walked away completely. It hurt him terribly. He couldn’t understand what had changed so fast. He chased you around the halls for days, trying his hardest to get your attention. But it never worked. And so, his love for you began to fade into an awful rage.

He couldn’t let you just walk away from everything the two of you shared. You were his. Only his. He couldn’t let you leave him, not like his dad. He hadn’t spent his entire life chasing you just to end up losing you. No. So, he began to formulate a plan. He’d leave you alone for a few days then calmly ask you to meet him at the beach, in the special spot he once made for you.

He wasn’t surprised that his plan worked. You were predictable.

When the night came, he made sure he was prepared. He snorted a line, packed his bag full of your favorite things, and set off. As he walked down the beach, he made sure the knife he hid was secure in his pocket. It was smaller than the one he’d used on David, but it would do the job just as efficiently.

You arrived a few minutes after him, a sad expression on your pretty face. He fought the urge to run to you with open arms.

“Thank you for coming,” he said. Only a few feet separated your bodies, he wished he could close it. But he needed to be patient.

You took a deep breath, you looked nervous. “Yeah, look Tate I... I’ve thought about it and I... I really think we should stop seeing each other for some time.”

“Why Y/N? I love you, so fucking much. I’m sorry for what I said, I can change, I won’t say shit like that ever again. I’ll be gentle, I swear. Just give me the chance I can be whatever you need me to be,” he replied desperately. He opened his bag and pulled out your favorite candy. “I love you; I really do. Please give me another chance.”

He watched your eyes fill with tears. You wanted to give in, he could see it in your eyes. But you only shook your head and wiped a fallen tear from your cheek.

“No. I’m sorry. Tate, you aren’t gentle, that’s not who you are. And I don’t want you to pretend to be someone you aren’t.”

Tate swallowed hard. “You promised me you’d never leave me; you said you were nothing like my dad. Was it all a lie?”

“Of course not!” You exclaimed and took a step closer to him. “I love you; I really do. That’s why this is so hard.”

“If you love me, why can’t we work this out? Don’t lie to me Y/N.”

He couldn’t stop his eyes from watering, nor could he stop his lips from quivering. He dug the bouquet of your favorite flowers out from his bag and held them out to you.

“Please,” he mumbled. “I need you.”

You caved. You wrapped your arms around his waist and held him tight. He could feel your muffled cries on his chest, it pained him. You were a sensitive sweet girl; it was both your blessing and curse.

“Maybe in a few months, we can try again, I don’t know.” You looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. “We just can’t be together right now. And I mean we’re going to graduate soon, and I might go to a college far away, how would that even work? But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s too late for that Y/N, you’ve already hurt me.” He dropped what he was holding and dug one of his hands into his pocket. He touched your face with his other hand, your tears covering his palm. “You’ve planned on leaving me this whole time. I wanted to give it another try you’ve made up your mind. I guess it just comes down to one thing.”

“What?” You asked.

“If I can’t have you, no one can,” he whispered before he pulled out the knife and plunged it into the side of your neck.

~~~

2011

“I killed you because I loved you,” he answers. “Because you were going to leave me and find someone else.”

All you can do is stare at him in silence. You think back to everything that happened. How could you have been so blind? It couldn’t have been your fault though. He would’ve killed you anyway. You think back to all the times Tate made you uneasy, all the times he would say things that creeped you out. Deep down you must’ve known that’s who he is. Maybe you knew all along.

Maybe you loved him because of his darkness.

You exhale a long breath. “We don’t have that long till midnight.”

“So?”

You shrug. “Wanna hook up?”

[amourane]

falling for you

pairing: kwon soonyoung x fem!reader

genre: fluff, college au

w/c: 2.6k

summary: in which soonyoung struggles to ask you out on a date.

warnings: none!

a/n: if you saw the first post u didn't cuz tumblr made a mess of it and now i gotta repost it TT

"Jihoon!" A voice hissed from behind him. "Jihoon, here! Behind you!" He spun around to face...a bush. 

"When did plants learn how to talk?"

"It's me you idiot!" A hand shot out grabbing Jihoon's arm, pulling him into the bush. Soonyoung had twigs, leaves and something that looked like a ladybug but no one could ever be so sure. He was fiddling with the hem of his sweater, his cheeks bright red. “I just saw Y/n!” 

“So?” Soonyoung’s eyes bulged incredulously like Jihoon was supposed to know why his best friend looked like he had been living in the wild for a week. 

“Jihoon, you don’t just reply with ‘so’ and make it some question. You should know this!” Soonyoung shook his friend by his shoulders, squishing his cheeks painfully. “Obviously it’s because I saw her walk by and obviously I went up to talk to her but obviously I fell. I don’t even know how I fell and I was going to stand back up and continue to talk to her but she was already gone. And I have this huge stain.” He pointed to the brownish green patch on his white cotton sweater. “Everything’s just a mess!”

“Okay first of all, calm down Shakespeare.” Jihoon rolled his eyes, picking his best friend up. He tugged the sweater over Soonyoung’s head. “You could’ve just taken this off, you’ve got a shirt underneath anyway. And it’s been a week and you still haven’t asked her out?”

“Well, it’s hard alright.” Soonyoung nibbled his bottom lip. “Also Mingyu’s always around her and I can never seem to get her alone.”

“Now you’re just making excuses.”

Jihoon knew his best friend. He knew Soonyoung. If Soonyoung wanted something he’d probably fight the world for it. He remembered that one time he’d been so desperate to win Mario Kart against Jihoon that he’d dumped his water all over him. Jihoon was positively fuming, not because he’d lost but because Soonyoung had gotten his favourite shirt wet. 

Needless to say, Kwon Soonyoung would eat avocados for the rest of his life if it meant he’d get to ask you out. That was why it was weird that the guy who could probably fight zombies single handedly in an apocalypse couldn’t ask a cute girl out. 

“Hey what’s this?” Jihoon reached for the piece of paper hanging out of Soonyoung’s pocket. The boy flushed red, trying to grab the paper back from Jihoon. When he realised it was no use he slumped back a pout evident on his face. 

“You’re not allowed to judge me-”

“You really are a dork.” Jihoon snorted, examining the A3 piece of paper with ‘ASKING Y/N OUT’ scrawled on the top in big black marker. The page was filled with annotations and little diagrams that were all coloured in neatly. All the possibilities were drafted out, some more silly than others. “You were thinking of taking her to NASA?!” 

Soonyoung’s ears burned. He squirmed. “I mean it’s always a possibility but I think that would kind of ruin me.”

Jihoon watched as his best friend avoided his gaze, fingers anxiously fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He smiled. He’d never seen Soonyoung this nervous to ask a girl out. It was oddly endearing. He continued to scan the paper, a little shocked that Soonyoung had put so much effort into this plan. 

So this was definitely not a little crush. 

//

“Okay listen.” Jihoon grabbed Soonyoung’s shoulders. They were currently outside the classroom you were in. He had devised this plan perfectly so that Soonyoung would actually ask you out without embarrassing himself. “Y/n’s going to come out here in approximately five minutes. You’re going to walk up to her and say ‘are you free this Saturday?’ and then she’ll say yes and then BAM instant date!” He clapped his hands together for exaggerated effect. 

“Jihoon, where are my flowers? And I can't be wearing this!” Soonyoung grabbed his black hoodie. “I can’t ask Y/n out like this. We need a suit and I need roses and some type of confectionery to win her over!”

Jihoon blinked like an owl. C-Confectionary?! Who the hell speaks like that anymore? Clearly Soonyoung had been watching too many romance movies. “You don’t need flowers or some fancy clothes to win Y/n over. You just need you, she likes you, not some dolled up Barbie.”

“It’s actually Ken who’s the main male-”

“Oh look here she comes.” He pushed Soonyoung hard. The poor boy stumbled clumsily, promptly bashing into you. He had to stop doing that. “Go get her!” Was all Soonyoung heard before he felt his soul die. 

You held Soonyoung steady. A small giggle left your lips. He blushed. You were even cuter today. Which was normally impossible but you were obviously special. The sweet smile you gave him nearly had him fainting. 

What was it Jihoon had said again? Oh yes, ask you out. He could do this.

“Did you need something Soonyoung?” 

Your voice was gentle and soft like a marshmallow. He could feel himself melting just at your words. Nope can’t do this. Soonyoung nearly spun around but when he caught sight of Jihoon’s deadly glare he retreated. Jihoon wasn’t someone you wanted to get angry. Guess he was going to have to do this.

“I...um…” He waved his arms around pathetically. It didn’t help that you were looking at him so innocently. “T-This Saturday you free...?” Soonyoung wanted the ground to swallow him whole. His cheeks burn bright red and he coughs. Not only did he completely butcher the English language but his voice cracked. Cracked! 

“I’m free this Saturday.” You grinned, eyes twinkling. Soonyoung felt his heart flutter. “I’ll text you okay?” You tucked a piece of paper into his hand before waving at him as you caught up to Mingyu. He watched as the two of you talked, you bursting into a fit of giggles, blushing.

The whole situation had happened so quickly it had made his head spin. A loud smack on his back brought Soonyoung back to reality. Jihoon stood behind him with a proud grin on his face. 

“Now we’ve just got to get you through this date.”

//

Soonyoung checked his watch for what felt like the upteenth time. It read, 11:13. He had said to meet him at 11 o’clock but maybe he was just early. Maybe you were stuck in traffic or something. He had spent about half an hour picking his outfit, with help from Jihoon of course because he could never decide on anything. 

It did look a little pathetic. Soonyoung sighed. Did you stand him up? You wouldn’t be that mean, would you?

“Soonyoung!” You were panting behind him, looking as if you had just run a marathon. Your chest heaved. “I'm so sorry. I lost track of time and everything kind of just went haywire-”

“I-It’s okay.” Soonyoung squeaked, wringing his hands. His eyes tried not to drift towards your chest. You were wearing a bright yellow sundress that hugged your body, little flowers dotted all over. The thin straps on your shoulders were tied in little bows at the top. He swallowed. 

“You’re not upset?” Your eyes were wide. The familiar scent of your jasmine perfume wafted to Soonyoung's nose and he shook his head. He could never be upset with you, that’d be ridiculous. You smiled. “Well, where are we heading?” 

He gave you a small grin. To say that Soonyoung has connections with people was an understatement. He had connections with everyone. That sounded a bit weird but everyone knew Soonyoung. It wasn’t like the town was small or anything, he was just known by everyone. Even the grumpy old lady that sold newspapers knew him.

Now normally he would have a plan for this, it was all written down. Sadly, Jihoon had ripped it up and threw it in the bin. Apparently having a plan was lame. Totally untrue, it was great to be prepared. 

“It’s a surprise.” 

//

“Oh my god!” You nearly tumbled to the ground at your shock. “How did you even manage to get in here? Isn’t this the Hong’s?” 

In front of you were rows beyond rows of strawberry bushes. The field seemed to stretch on forever. There was only one family in town that owned so many acres of land, the Hongs. You’d met their son, Joshua Hong, a couple of times at campus but everyone knew their strawberry fields were off limits. 

“My mum’s friends with Mrs Hong, used to go over to hers every week with apple pie. Me and Shua were friends for a while but then he got caught up in music and me, dancing. We still talk and I was lucky enough to get us in.” Soonyoung shrugs. “And it’s strawberry picking season.”

“Most boys would bring their date out to a fancy restaurant.” You picked a strawberry, popping into your mouth, savouring the sweet taste. “I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy this.”

Soonyoung tried not to smile too wide. He couldn't contain his excitement. At first he wanted to take you to a lot of places in one day but Jihoon had said it was impossible to take you to the cinema, zoo, aquarium, ice cream shop and laser tag in 24 hours. So he settled on strawberries. Everyone loved strawberries, plus it was free because he knew Joshua. 

You slowly intertwined both of your fingers, holding his hand. Soonyoung felt his cheeks flare an embarrassing red as his eyes trailed down to both of your clasped hands. He felt his heart beat rapidly in his chest. There wasn’t a lot he could do but try not to faint. 

A small smirk crept up on his lips as he handed you a basket. “We’ll make a deal.” 

“A deal?” You looked at him confused, taking the basket. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s say, whoever picks the most strawberries decides where we’re having lunch and they pay as well.”

“Chivalry really is dead.” You rolled your eyes. If Kwon Soonyoung wanted to bet that he would pick more strawberries than you, then he best be prepared for war. You contemplated the thought. If you were to win you’d probably empty his pockets but if he won he would empty your pockets. It’s a 50/50 chance. 

You must have stayed silent for a tad too long because Soonyoung grew worried. 

“W-We don’t have to if you don't want to-” 

“Fine. No rules, just as many as we can pick.” You shook his hand, a playful grin on your face. “Be prepared to lose Kwon.” You dashed away.

“Hey, you’re cheating!” 

“No rules remember!” 

Soonyoung stood still, mouth open like a goldfish. He finally snapped out of it, chasing after you, determined to win. There was no way he was going to let you beat him. 

Or maybe he will. 

//

Soonyoung grasped his basket tightly. It was already nearly full with ruby red strawberries. No doubt they were sweet and juicy. He hadn’t seen you since you left him and it was slightly worrying. Hopefully you were fine. Hopefully.

"Y/n?" He calls over the bushes. No reply. Soonyoung trudged forward, still looking for you. A twig snapped from behind him. "Y/n?" He spun around only to see you reaching a hand inside his basket plucking a strawberry and stuffing it into your mouth. 

"They're really yummy, I should thank Joshua when I see him." You giggled, turning to flee again but this time Soonyoung grabbed your hand. A small squeak escaped your lips. 

"Don't you dare run away." His tone was light and teasing. You shrieked when he popped one of your strawberries into his mouth. "No rules remember." He smirked, playfully flicking your forehead. You threw a strawberry at him which he dodged. You pelt another and another. One hits him and you stifle your laughs. 

Soonyoung pulled you forward and you shut up. He leaned forward, breath fanning your face. You instinctively fluttered your eyes shut. 

"I'll see you later." He whispered, causing you to snap open your eyes, mouth dropping to the ground. You watched dumbfounded as he ran away. What happened to the shy Soonyoung?

//

“I only lost because you ate all of mine.” You pouted, folding your arms defiantly. It wasn’t your fault that he was so devastatingly cute that you just had to offer him some of your strawberries. He stole them from you, even if he insisted that you gave them willingly. 

“You’re in denial Y/n.” Soonyoung skipped happily next to you, swinging his full basket. Your pout deepened. “Now where’s the most expensive place to have lunch?” He pulled his phone out, tapping a few times before a smug grin took over his face.

“You’re going to empty my pockets.” You whined. 

Soonyoung grinned. “Come on we’ve got to catch the train otherwise we’ll be late. I’ll pay for the tickets.” A small smile flitted across your face before it reverted back into a pout. You huffed, letting Soonyoung clasped your hand as the two of you walked away. “If it makes you feel any better, you can have my strawberries.”

“I just wanna know what was with the personality change back then?”

His cheeks flushed bright red. “I can be confident too…”

“Don’t doubt it. I’ve seen you dance.” The look he gives you has you rolling your eyes. “You’re a totally different person when you’re in the studio.”

His cheeks flushed bright red again causing you to burst into a fit of giggles. 

//

“So what you’re saying is that the bill is too expensive and right now you’re hiding in the bathroom and, might I remind you, you left poor Soonyoung to fend for himself.” Mingyu said through the phone.

“It sounds worse when you say it aloud.”

“You can’t just ditch him Y/n, what are you going to do, climb out a window and escape?” He hissed. You stared at the tiny window at the back. If you did it right you could squeeze through. “If you’re thinking about climbing out of a window I will stop feeding you my brownies.”

“Hey hey hey. No need to deprive my need for brownies Gyu, have some respect.” He snorted, muttering under his breath. “I can still hear what you’re saying.” 

“Good.”

Okay maybe running inside the bathroom and hiding in a stall wasn’t going to solve all of our problems. But the bill was hefty and you would probably land yourself in prison if you did manage to pay for it. Also you couldn’t climb out of the window because you really did need those brownies. 

“I want you to go out there and say you can’t pay for it and ask Soonyoung to pay for it.”

“Gyu are you crazy?”

“You’re the one in a bathroom stall, not me.” And with that he hung up leaving you alone. You could do this. It was not that hard, not that hard.  

Soonyoung was still sitting at the table where you left him but this time all the plates had been cleared and he was staring at his phone. He looked up and smiled. “Thought you were gonna do something illegal. Don’t worry, I paid for everything.”

“D-Did you rob a bank before we came here?” Your mouth was hanging open. That was the only option, unless he really did have enough money but everyone your age was practically broke so…

Soonyoung chuckled, shaking his head. “You didn’t actually think I was going to let you pay for all of that? You’re cute.” 

You were left gaping as he took your hand. What just happened? He said your line, your line. You were meant to call him cute. Soonyoung seemed to sense how confused you were because he shot you a dazzling smile.

“Told you I can be confident.”

[enticingmelanin]

The Best Man: Aaron Pierre x Reader Fic

The Best Man || Aaron Pierre x Reader

Rating: E for Erotic.

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, and Explicit Language. 18+ Only.

Word Count: 2k+

Summary: Things get hot and heavy between you—the maid of honor—and Aaron, the best man. And let’s just say, he’s living up to that title in every possible way.

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Drinks were flowing, music was pumping, great conversations were being had, and romance was in the air.

You were filled with joy watching your best friend since the 9th grade, Sophia, get married to her now-husband, Kelvin. You weren't just honored to witness it—you were her maid of honor. The entire day had been a whirlwind of nerves, happy tears, laughter, and utter bliss. You loved a good wedding, and it wasn’t every day you got to attend one, let alone be part of something so beautiful. So you were soaking it all in—every moment, every detail.

Something else you wanted to soak in—or rather, someone—was Kelvin’s best friend and best man, Aaron Pierre.

He looked unfairly good tonight in that black tux, just a little loosened at the collar now, his smile as sharp as it was warm. You’d felt his stare more than once across the candlelit table, both of you trying to play it cool as you mingled with guests, danced with cousins and aunties, and stayed just enough apart. But there was no mistaking it: the magnetic pull was there.

You and Aaron had been quietly, delicately dating long distance for about 2 months now. Not because you weren’t proud of him, or because he didn’t want to shout it from rooftops—but because the timing, the spotlight, his HBO series Lanterns filming between LA, London, and Atlanta... all of it called for care. And you both valued your privacy. He still managed to stay consistent—FaceTime dates, good morning texts, long calls after wrap days. And now, with filming wrapped, this wedding weekend had been your first chance to physically be in the same place with a moment to breathe.

You reached for your glass of champagne, your black gown catching the light—the jeweled corseted top glittering like stars. The fabric hugged you perfectly, making you feel regal, powerful, and just a little dangerous. A server passed by. You took a breath. Then, tapping your fork gently against your glass, you stood.

The room slowly quieted. All eyes turned. And though you were used to speaking in front of crowds, this one made your heartbeat drum against your ribs—because your voice, tonight, was for love.

“I wasn’t planning to give a big speech. I'm shy,” you began, catching Sophia’s eye at the head of the table, her smile bright through the flicker of candlelight. “But this day… this day has been too beautiful not to say something.”

A soft hush settled around the room. Aaron’s gaze found you again. Steady. Warm. Unwavering.

“When I think about love,” you said, “I think about my best friend since the 9th grade. I think about the long nights we stayed up dreaming about our futures, what kind of men we’d fall for, who would make us laugh, protect our peace, and dance with us in kitchens when no one was watching.”

You paused, your voice catching slightly before you smiled.

“And today, I watched her live it. I watched her marry the man who sees her exactly as she is and loves her for all of it. Kelvin, you are everything I hoped she’d find. And Sophia… you’ve always been the heart in any room.”

A few guests dabbed their eyes. You glanced down at your glass, then back up again.

“This day has been magic—nerves, happy tears, laughter… utter bliss. And I just want to raise a glass to that kind of love. The kind you grow into, the kind you choose, the kind that makes even the hard days worth it.”

You lifted your glass, your voice gentle but sure. “To Sophia and Kelvin—may your love be bold like red roses, steady like white ones, and may it always feel like coming home.”

Applause broke around you. You made your way over to Sophia and pulled her into a warm embrace, the two of you whispering soft I love yous through the emotion. Kelvin soon wrapped his arms around you both, completing the heartfelt group hug. Back at your seat to sit back down, heart still fluttering, and about to glance in Aaron’s direction, he was already there—pulling out the chair beside you.

His hand brushed yours under the table, a silent promise, a quiet fire.

And as the music picked back up, and Sophia laughed into her new husband’s shoulder, you leaned into the moment, letting yourself feel everything. Joy. Love. Anticipation. And the electric thrill of something just beginning.

The melody of Alicia Keys’ “Un-thinkable” began to play, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. The DJ extended the beat, giving people time to join the dance floor. Instantly, Sophia and Kelvin made their way to the center, wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying slowly to the rhythm.

“Can I have this dance?” a deep voice with that dangerously enticing London accent murmured in your ear.

You turned, meeting Aaron’s beautiful turquoise-and-gray eyes. Blushing, you nodded, letting him take your hand and lead you onto the floor. Nestled between other couples, his arm slid around your waist, pulling you close, your bodies moving in sync with the music.

“I was wonderin’, maybe, could I make you my baby? If we do the unthinkable, would it make us look crazy? If you ask me, I'm ready…”

As the lyrics floated around you and your eyes locked with his, the truth between you settled like a secret only your bodies could confess. You were thinking the same thing—ready to claim and be claimed in every way. If he asked, you were more than willing to be his woman.

“That was a beautiful speech,” Aaron murmured, his voice low and intimate, meant only for you. “I hope I fit the man you dreamed of falling for.”

You smiled, emotion catching in your throat as you held back tears. “You exceed those dreams.”

A slow smirk curved his lips as he lifted your hand, placing a soft kiss to the back of it. “If I asked you to meet me upstairs once this song is over... would you?” he asked, a mischievous twinkle lighting his eyes.

Your breath caught, but you didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” you breathed, biting your lip.

He gave a small nod, then leaned his forehead gently against yours as the two of you melted into the rest of the song. Across the room, Sophia caught your eye over Kelvin’s shoulder and mouthed, I knew it. You giggled and stuck your tongue out playfully.

As the final chords faded, Aaron pulled back slightly, eyes steady on yours. “Meet me upstairs in five. Room 306,” he said, then slipped away into the crowd.

You played it cool, walking back to your table. You finished the last sip of your champagne, letting the bubbles settle your nerves, then grabbed your clutch and made your way to the elevators.

Ding!

You stepped off and followed the gold-plated signs. Just as you raised your hand to knock, the door flew open. Aaron pulled you inside, swept you off your feet, and kissed you with the kind of hunger that said he’d been waiting all night.

Your clutch hit the floor as your arms wrapped around his neck, matching his intensity. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you opened for him without hesitation. You melted into the kiss, savoring the plush feel of his lips, the solid strength of his embrace. He nipped your bottom lip gently, then paused to catch his breath.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” he said, voice husky. “Well... really every day since we started seeing each other. Life’s been crazy and exciting, but you’ve been that extra anchor—my peace. I know it hasn’t been easy, but your patience... it’s meant everything to me.”

His eyes burned into yours as he continued. “I know I’ve got what it takes to give you everything you deserve. And if you’ll let me, I’d love to be your man. I’m all in, baby.”

You kissed him slow and sweet, sealing the moment. “I’m all in too. All yours, Mr. Pierre.”

His grin stretched wide, all 32 teeth on display, full of joy and promise. “I think that calls for a celebration..” he said, his gaze dropping to your jeweled corset. “Think we can manage getting this dress off safely? You look stunning, but I’ve been fantasizing about you out of it all night.”

You moaned as his lips found your neck, your nipples tightening against the fabric, your thong growing damp with anticipation.

“I think... we’ll manage,” you purred between gasps. “Take it off.”

Aaron moved behind you and loosened the strings of your dress. Once it no longer hugged your body like a glove, he slowly pulled it down, and you carefully stepped out. As you bent over to undo the straps of your heels, a firm smack met your ass, making you gasp.

“Keep them on, princess. Go sit on the sofa,” he commanded—gentle, but firm.

You obeyed, settling onto the plush couch as he stood in front of you. His eyes roamed your body, drinking in the sight. He slowly undid his tuxedo jacket and removed his shoes before slipping it off completely. Your pussy clenched at the sight of him—golden skin, muscular build, pronounced six-pack. His dick was thick, hard, long, and slightly curved. He looked handcrafted by the heavens, and you couldn’t help but trail a hand down to your covered pussy, slowly rubbing as the ache for him grew.

He bit his lip, eyes locked on the growing wet spot between your legs. Draping his tux and your gown over the armchair, he pulled a gold foil packet from his pocket and made his way over to you, eyes intense—like a predator stalking its prey. Kneeling between your legs, he gently moved your hand out of the way and slid your thong off with your help, your hips lifting in anticipation.

“Damn,” he murmured, staring at your glistening pussy. “I know we have to be quick, but I have to taste you,” he said, then began kissing the inside of your thighs.

His eyes found yours just before his lips met your center. You gasped as his tongue began circling your clit, slow and deliberate. Your breath hitched, back arching, but Aaron gripped your thighs, pulling you closer to his mouth.

He French kissed your lower lips, then gently sucked your clit while watching your body unravel. “Oh, baby…” you moaned, fingers threading through his soft, thick curls. Aaron groaned, sending light vibrations through you, before plunging his tongue deep inside. Your hips writhed, your stomach caved—all your nerves lit up between your thighs. Your moans grew louder as his thumb joined in, rubbing slow circles over your clit while his tongue fucked you faster.

“Oh my God… mmm! Baby, you’re gonna make me cum,” you whimpered, head tilting back.

Aaron hummed in satisfaction, then traded his tongue for two fingers, flicking and sucking your clit while pumping inside you.

“Uuunhhh! Shit, shit… mmm,” you cried out as your release spilled onto his fingers. He slid them out and brought them to your lips, licking up every drop of you. You eagerly accepted his fingers into your mouth, muffling your moans as you tasted yourself.*

Satisfied with his cleanup, his lips trailed kisses up your stomach to your chest, stopping briefly to suck your nipples before capturing your mouth in a sensual kiss. You moaned softly, tasting your own essence on his tongue.

The tearing of foil filled the air, and moments later you felt the thick tip of him at your entrance. As he pushed forward, you gasped against his lips.

“Mmm... you feel me, baby?” he moaned, straightening up as he slowly filled you.

“Unh... yes, Daddy. You’re so big…”

“You can take it, princess. Just breathe. Feel me,” he instructed, setting a slow, deliberate pace. He fed your clenching pussy inch by inch. You reached for his forearms as he gripped your waist. You tried not to dig your nails into his skin, but with every deep, intoxicating stroke, he made it nearly impossible.

The rhythmic slap of your thighs and ass meeting his pelvis filled the room, harmonizing with the moans and groans between you. His strokes quickened as you stretched around him perfectly. His smoldering gaze drifted down to where your bodies connected, and a deep growl rumbled from his chest.

“Mmm... look at you takin’ me so well,” he moaned, watching you coat his length. His hand slid down your torso as he lifted one of your legs onto his shoulder. The moment his eyes locked back on yours, his thumb found your clit and began to rub, just as he drove into you harder.

“Oh, fuuuuck,” you cried out at the added stimulation, your hand flying to press against his flexing abs. Feeling the power of him beneath your palm stirred the orgasm building deep inside you.

“You can push all you want... mmm. I’m not going anywhere, baby. Not until you cum on this dick,” he groaned, voice thick with emotion. “I missed you so fuckin’ much,” he breathed as he began to pound into you deeper, his hefty balls smacking against your ass with every thrust.

You wanted to tell him how much you missed him too, but the way he hit every spot just right—and the way his thumb kept working your clit—made it nearly impossible to form words. Instead, you reached for his face and pulled him into a deep, needy kiss. Everything you couldn’t say poured out through that kiss, and he felt it—knew the longing was mutual. The clench of your walls, your whimpers and cries, and the arch of your back told him everything he needed to know.

“Cum for me, beautiful... Ooh, shit. Look at me,” he growled against your lips, pressing his forehead to yours. Your eyes fluttered open, locking onto his—and that was all it took to ignite the fire burning inside you.

“Cum on your dick, baby.”

Your dick…

Something about the way it rolled off his tongue—how he claimed you as his—pushed you over the edge. The fire within you erupted, and you came with his name on your lips. Watching you writhe and fall apart sent him spiraling right after. His dick throbbed as he came deep inside you, lips latching onto your neck to muffle his guttural moan.

The rhythmic slaps slowed, then stilled with his final thrust. Both of you worked to catch your breath. He peppered your neck with soft, tender kisses, trailing up to your lips. You shared a slow, deep kiss, then whispered against his mouth, “I missed you too.”

After freshening up and getting redressed, you both made your way to the elevators, hand in hand.

“You catch the first one, and I’ll wait for the next—space us out a lil,” he said with a grin.

You nodded and giggled softly, hoping no one caught on to what just happened.

“I hope you know that was just a preview of what’s to come tonight. I’m not done with you,” he growled in your ear, his hand warm at your waist as you waited.

A chill ran up your spine.

“I’m counting on it, Daddy,” you purred just as the elevator doors opened. You placed a quick kiss on his lips before stepping inside, descending to the main floor.

You reentered the reception just in time for your bestie and bestie-in-law to cut their cake. Standing by your seat, you pulled out your phone to snap photos of the beautiful couple. As you watched Sophia feed Kelvin a bite of fluffy red velvet cake, a quiet thought crept in—maybe you were on a similar path.

Almost as if answering that thought, Aaron appeared beside you and handed you a fresh glass of champagne. He winked, and you returned it with a soft smile.

Looks like the best man just might be the best man for you…

The End.

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Just a lil smutty romantic moment for my babes. I hope you enjoyed it. Masterlist coming soon! My taglist is always open, feel free to join the gang. xoxo

Taglist:

@slvt4her @wanderingreigns @avoidthings @xjjawsomex @that-one-anxious-mango @wabi-sabi1090 @nubiawrites @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @kianaleani @slutsareteacherstoo @slyy-foxx @dxddykenn @moujg @naughtynolly @wildcardmelaninfreak @pocketsizedpanther @wanderingreigns @wabi-sabi1090 @styleismyaddiction @novahreign @transparentphantomface

[leclercsixteen]

𝒘𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒈 𝒏𝒐𝒘 ! ᵒᵖ⁸¹

i have a feeling you got everything you wanted .☘︎ ݁˖

𝒐scar piastri x 𝒆x-driver!male reader synopsis: oscar and reader were best friends and rivals in their years before oscar got pulled into formula 1. with a broken leg and a dream of diving an f1 crushed, reader watched from his couch as oscar rightfully wins his first grand prix. then, oscar reaches out.

genre: angst, slight hurt/comfort, texts, fluff warnings: career ending car crash, hardly any oscar x reader interaction (only at the end really), relationship not established.

author’s note: we hug now is literally my favorite song rn so i needed to write something for it.

masterlist. navigation.

WHEN HE CLOSES his eyes at night, he’s back in his Formula 2 car; he’s still a teenager with a normal leg and no limp. He’s still trying to live his dream of becoming a Formula 1 driver, and Oscar Piastri is still his best friend. As y/n lays in bed, eyes closed, and body as stiff as a board, he relives that race. That godforsaken race.

The track was wet and had been for the whole weekend. He should’ve been used to the damp track and concrete, but apparently, the curse of y/n—a joke created by f2 fans after his second f2 season where he did notoriously bad on wet races—lived on because going into turn 1 halfway through the race, his car skidded off the track. He flew into the barriers at top speed; the front of his car lodged into them.

Y/n was knocked out from the impact, and his leg was definitely broken. His radio was filled with frantic calls from his head engineer, which he sometimes heard in his dreams, despite being knocked out. A red flag was pulled, not because of the debris that flew onto the track, as there wasn’t much, but because of the emergency vehicles that had to rush onto the track.

It was the only time that track met silence during a race; all cars were tucked into their garages, except for y/n’s orange MP Motorsport branded car. The stands watched with dropped jaws and tears forming in the corners of their eyes as an ambulance rushed onto the track and towards y/n’s crashed car.

There were already marshals on the scene, but y/n was still in the car when the ambulance arrived.

Somewhere in the Prema Racing garage, Oscar Piastri bit at his nails as he watched the TV that showed his best friend passed out in his wrecked car. He shifted his body weight between his legs, never getting comfortable in any position until he knew his best friend was okay.

“Is he alright?” Oscar asked a question in the open for anybody in the Prema garage to answer. Yet, nobody spoke. Nobody knew the answer. They watched with bated breath as y/n was pulled from the orange car. His helmet was orange, too, with white designs, and the number ‘18’ in bright white plastered on the sides by his ears. The Australian swallowed hard.

Y/n doesn’t remember the accident. He remembers sliding off the track, then it goes black, and then he’s getting pulled out of his car. He doesn’t remember yelling out, crying, even, as he was pulled out of his car, but the numerous videos he’s watched of it showed him yelling and crying as his right leg was touched.

The race wasn’t finished and was postponed. They knew drivers wouldn’t be able to drive in those conditions, knowing their driver counterpart was in the hospital and hadn’t woken up after he yelled out and screamed bloody murder.

Y/n woke up a day or two after the crash. He doesn’t remember much from his first couple of times waking up, only that Oscar had glued himself to the chair at his bedside. The first day he fully remembers, he awoke with a start, a cry coming from his throat before he could stop it. Oscar was at his side already, worried eyes scanning his face.

“Hey, hey, y/n?” Oscar asked, his hand coming up to rest on y/n’s cheek, to calm him, of course, no other reason. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” he repeated softly as y/n blinked repeatedly to get used to the bright lights that Oscar was trying to hide with his head. “You’re in the hospital,” Oscar said softly. His face was void of any emotion other than worry.

Y/n cleared his throat once he caught his bearings. His throat was dry, most likely from the lack of water he’d swallowed in the past day, so he weakly gestured at an abandoned water bottle that sat near the couch in the room.

Oscar glanced in the direction he was pointing it. He pointed over at the bottle, too. “Water?” He turned back to y/n to see him nod, so Oscar rushed over to grab the bottle and left y/n to squint at the light. “Oh, sorry,” Oscar mumbled when he noticed y/n squint. He passed the bottle to y/n before moving over to the light switch to dim the lights.

As the lights dimmed, y/n opened his eyes. He was back in bed, a dull throb coming from his leg that never fully healed. Y/n sighed and laid still for a beat before pulling his blankets off him. He swung his legs over the side of the bed as he sat up. When he slid off the bed, he hissed at his right foot as it made contact with the hard floor.

He limped towards the door and made his way out of the room. His apartment was very small, as he didn’t have a good income anymore, and his leg made it impossible to travel far without a crutch. Speaking of, y/n reached out to the right side of the doorway to his room and grabbed the crutch he always forgets to grab.

It was a Sunday, y/n's least favorite day of the week because it was race day for Formula 1. Last year, y/n watched as his best friend was brought up into Formula 1 without him. He raced in an orange car like y/n did in Formula 2, and his number 81 was bright on the front.

Oscar already had 81 when y/n picked the number 18. They were best friends when they had to pick their numbers; why shouldn't they have matching numbers, too? In hindsight, it was dumb as y/n watched number 81 prance around the Azerbaijan track and imagined it was himself if the numbers were just switched around.

Y/n lounged, albeit not comfortably, on his couch. His back was bent weird to accommodate a comfortable rest for his leg. His phone rested on his lap, opened up to the Formula 1 app. It was 3 am, yet he was still awake and waiting for the lights to go out in Baku. Maybe it was because he hasn't missed a race yet this season, maybe it was because he wanted to watch the driver he used to call a best friend, maybe it was because he wished it was him.

Oscar got everything y/n wanted: a Formula 1 contract and a great teammate. Y/n was practically wasting time with the physical therapy sessions he was forced to visit each week. His leg wasn't getting better, and he and his doctor knew it, but there wasn't much they could do. He was never going to touch a Formula car again, and that hurt.

The truth hurts, and it hurts even more when it's putting down the dream you've had since you were a young kid. As y/n watches the cars line up in their respective places, he purses his lips and sighs. He tries not to cry, he really does, but it's hard to stop the tears from coming when they're already building in the corners of his eyes.

The noise of car engines and commentary fills the room for the next hour and a half. At times during the race, he closes his eyes and lays his head back, resting it on the back of the couch. The noise overwhelms his head as he imagines being in a car, a real Formula 1 car.

It was surreal watching Oscar overtake Charles Leclerc and become a real Grand Prix winner. Y/n didn't know how to react; whether he should cry in happiness or jealousy, or even defy the pain in his leg and jump for joy. So, he settles for a smile and a couple of quiet claps. He knew Oscar wouldn't hear him from here, but it filled a void within him.

With a sigh, y/n turned off the TV and slowly made his way back to bed with the intent on sleeping for a couple of hours. And he did just that; he woke up hours later with a notification filled phone. Some from iMessages and most from Twitter. Confused, y/n reaches for his phone and pulled it off the charger. He pushed himself further up the bed do his back rested against the headboard.

His fingers froze when he saw a text from Oscar. It was horribly misspelled and there were one too many emoji’s, a dead giveaway that he was most likely a little drunk, or it wasn’t him at all seeing it was still fairly early in Baku. His fingers drummed the sides of his phone as he read through the messages and thought of one to send himself.

A smile plays on y/n’s lips as he reads back the messages to himself. He missed his best friend, but it’s odd how Lando Norris, Oscar’s McLaren teammate, knew who he was. He decided not to dwell on it as his phone vibrates with another notification, another Twitter notification. With furrowed brows, y/n moves over to bis Twitter app. The first tweet he sees is a video of an interview of Oscar after the ceremony.

He’s sat between Charles Leclerc and George Russell on the podium couch and there’s a smile on his face. The caption that comes with the video says, “OSCAR MENTIONING Y/N IN THE GREAT 2024???”

Y/n blinks a couple of times before pressing onto the video. It starts in the middle of a question asked by an interviewer off-camera. “—car. This is your second Grand Prix, but you seemed more excited for this one than the first. Were you performing for someone, or…?” He left the question trailing off, hoping to get an answer he and the fans wanted.

A small smile shows on Oscar’s face as Charles and George glance over at the winner. “No, I wasn’t performing for anybody. This race was one that I fought hard for,” he pauses, clearly thinking over the rest of his answer. Y/n can see the cogs moving in his mind. “Maybe…maybe there was someone I was, sort of, performing for. An old friend of mine; Y/n L/n,” Oscar smiles bright. “We used to race against each other in F2 and we were always so proud of each other when the other would win races. We would always find each other in parc ferme after, and I couldn’t help but think of him as I got that checkered flag.”

The room has gotten silent, everyone focusing in on what Oscar’s next words were going to be. The Australian is looking down at his knees with a soft smile as he looks back at the memories he and y/n used to share. Though, his smile faltered slightly.

“I looked for him, in parc ferme. He was the first person I searched for,” he sighed. Next to him, Charles smiles and pats his shoulder lightly, causing Oscar to glance over at him. Oscar cleared his throat and nodded as he lookdd up back towards the interviewer. “He got in a bad accident a couple of years back, and I just wish he was here to celebrate my win with me,” he smiles politely and nods.

Y/n noticed the breath of relief fall from Oscar’s lips as the interviewer moves onto Charles. The clip ends there and Twitter automatically scrolls to the next video on his homepage, but y/n scrolls back up to rewatch the video.

The video replays twice, the words Oscar says playing on repeat in y/n’s mind. He smiles. He missed Oscar, but maybe Oscar missed him more.

He mentions the video when he meets up with Oscar the next week. They found themselves in a small restaurant in the outskirts of downtown Monaco to talk about y/n potential future with McLaren.

“So,” y/n starts after there’s a lull in their conversation as Oscar takes a bite of his burger, “I watched your little speech about me after your win in Baku.”

Oscar chokes on his burger slightly before hitting his chest and swallowing the burger. He coughs. “Jesus,” Oscar laughs and coughs as he shakes his head. “Yeah, that,” his face heated up, showing off a pink flush on his skin.

“You looked for me first in parc ferme after your win?”

“I always look for you first in parc ferme, win or not.”

a/n: they make me sick

tags: @milessunflowers @lokisen @kevinlolwife @op-81-lvr-reblogs @kazanskied @481rosier @raizelchrysanderoctavius @mountainshuman

[mikkomacko]

Him and I - Tender Heart

Nico Hischier x Reader, Mob Boss Nico

Warnings: None x

Previous Chapter

____________________________________________

The red spot on the white floors is tormenting.

It’s more of a coppery color now, old and rusty looking, and you wonder why no one has cleaned it up yet, even if it seems to be fading on its own. You can still see it clear as day though, blurred and fuzzy around the edges but bright and nauseating as it pooled on the floor.

The sight makes your head spin, stomach turning like it did that day you saw it fresh, seeping from the gunshot wound in Lena’s thigh. And there’s no adrenaline, no anger to keep you cool like last time when you fixed Lena up and kicked her to the curb.

No the house is just you and the boys now, the heavy foot fall of Alex, Jack and Luke echoing down from the upper level. They’re patrolling, guarding the weak spots like you told them too. That was where Timo got in to rescue you, a chink in the armor in the upper window that’s broken.

“You ok?”

It’s Timo, gun strapped across his chest and shoulders back as he stands beside you. You nod, eyes following Luke’s pacing figure.

“I saw you first,” you explain, nodding towards the balcony. “Barely, couldn’t really make out your face but I knew it was you.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, smiling just the slightest bit. “You have a certain walk. And your build. You’re a little bit bigger than Nico.”

“Ouch,” comes from behind you, Nico’s hand announcing his presence when it finds the small of your back. “That’s not good to hear.”

Timo snickers, and your own smile grows with amusement. Nico’s grinning when he leans over your shoulder to press a kiss into the apple of your cheek.

“Out of context,” you comment, “obviously you’re b-“

“Whoa don’t insult me to my face, I beg.” Timo interrupts, nudging you with the butt of his gun. He doesn’t look wounded when you turn to him, a bittersweet purse to his lips like he’s just happy you’re not having a breakdown in this place.

Your best friend slowly trails away, returning to his post of guarding your back as Nico instructed. Nico’s hand sweeps your hair over your shoulder, rough fingertips trailing along the gold chain on your neck. He takes your pendant and ring between his fingers, that knowing look in his eyes.

“Feeling ok?” It’s like he can see into you. Not through you, not just you, but everything you are. It’s not something you’ll ever get tired of, being seen and known so well.

“Mhm,” you assure, “just ready to go home, I guess.”

Nico’s face droops into a frown, his hand dropping your necklace in exchange for wrapping around your neck. He draws you into him, body thick and warm, and his lips find your forehead.

“I know baby,” he murmurs, “we’ll be back before ya know it.”

You press into his hold, the blood stained floor and the emptiness of his grandfathers old house forgotten now that he’s got you. “I miss Moose,” you complain, and Nico laughs softly “my poor baby. He doesn’t even know what time is, it’s probably felt so long.”

“Next time we travel you can bring him,” he cups the back of your head, thumb stroking your hair. “Lesson learned, I promise.”

Triumphantly, you smile up at him. Nico had insisted it’d be too hard to bring Moose on such a short trip, that the dog would survive a week without you and that’s it’s just mean to make him get on a plane again. After all, the last time he was on one was when he was being taken from his litter.

The guilt trip had worked and you’d left him at home. It however won’t work next time, no matter what Nico tries to pull. This time you’ve got the reminder of this trip from hell on your side.

“Break it up lovebirds, we’ve got company.”

Mercer is marching towards you from the front door, riffle hanging from his shoulder and combat boots thumping on the hardwood floor. A bulky black vest hangs from his fingertips. Before you can even ask he’s holding it out to you.

“Dawson, I don’t need tha-“

“Don’t care, put it on.”

The usual polite, Canadian tone of his gone completely. He’s serious, face hardened and closed off as he stares you down. Confused, you look to Nico.

“Merc, the vest is a bit much.”

“She bruised and beat up,” Dawson says, raising an eyebrow at Nico. “I’d rather her not add bullet holes to the list.”

Nico stares back, expressionless for a moment before he’s nudging you with a pat to your hip. “Put it on baby.”

They’re being dramatic, you think. Nico’s family wouldn’t openly try to kill you in front of him. But you supposed you’d rather be safe than sorry so you take the vest from a smirking Mercer, pulling it over your head and grumbling when your hair tangles in front of your face.

Nico is the one to brush it away, fingertips gentle as he smoothes it down and tucks the loose strands behind yours ears.

“Pretty girl,” he murmurs, a half smile on his lips. You roll your eyes at his flattery, adjusting the bulky vest and glaring at Mercer.

“You better hope I get shot at or I’m gonna kill you for shoving me in this thing.”

He doesn’t bat an eye at your threatening tone, scoffing and then jabbing a finger at Nico. “If someone so much as reaches for their hip, you better be protecting her head.”

It’s sweet, despite how serious he sounds. Like he’s genuinely concerned for your safety. He did witness Rino first hand though, and he saw the fallout with Nico after. How much it hurt you to have to tell Nico the truth. It hurt Mercer too, enough that he doesn’t trust them anymore.

“Dawson,” Nico calls, tone gentle. “I promise I’m always looking out for her, yeah? Especially her head, but all of her too.”

Comically, Mercer looks Nico up and down, eyes squinted with judgment and he lets out an unimpressed hum. “Yet to be seen,” he says casually, glancing at you. You have to bite back your laugh, entertained by Mercer scolding him.

Offended, Nico scoffs. Eyebrows pulled together in a frown, your fiancé glares at Mercer. “Just get to your fucking post.” Nico hisses, dismissing Mercer with a wave of his hand. The other boy looks to you, and not wanting to escalate Nico any further, you silently nod.

“What the fuck was that?” He grumbles under his breath, shaking his head in annoyance. You catch the strand of hair that slips in front of his eyes, pushing it back over his forehead.

“You always told him he doesn’t take stuff seriously enough,” you whisper, “maybe this is him trying.”

Before he can respond, the sound of the front door opening creaks throughout the empty house. Nico’s body stiffens, his frame immediately moving to stand in front of you and you fall back, reaching for the hem of his hoodie. Timo and Mercer form around you, a protective triangle.

Upstairs, the other three have gone silent, no doubt having moved into their spots as well. You don’t see when Nico’s family enters the large living room, but you hear their footfall, how it grows louder and clearer before suddenly halting.

“Nico,” Luca calls, confused. “What the hell is going on?”

The sound of his brother’s voice sends a dollop of ease down your spine. You weren’t exactly expecting Rino to still be around let alone show up here, but you wouldn’t put it past him.

You glance over to Timo, see the way his clenched shoulders ease just the slightest bit and you find yourself rising to your toes to peak over Nico’s shoulder.

“You tell me,” Nico answers coolly, shifting as he crosses his arms over his chest. His family is gathered in the entryway still, frozen and caught off guard by the presence of weapons. The unspoken standoff.

Nina’s gaze falls to you and you quickly cower behind Nico, mentally cursing yourself for being such a busy body.

“I don’t know,” Luca huffs, “I got notice in the middle of the night that father was missing, then a huge withdrawal from the business account, and you were silent until this morning. Then I get a cryptic text saying to come here and you’ve got a fucking gun pointed at me!”

Luca’s voice rises as his frustration grows with each spoken word, booming throughout the empty room and echoing off the pristine walls. Both Mercer and Timo squeeze in closer to you, as if expecting Luca to bite at any moment.

“I know father is gone,” Nico confirms, calm and collected. Like always. “And going off of that, I’m not surprised you’re suddenly missing funds. But the boys and the guns and me are here to find out what you really know.”

You can’t see it, but it feels like that last part is pointed more at his mother than the others. The urge to look over his shoulder again burns in your gut, but you stay put, knowing that the last time you forgot protocols you ended up in this exact room.

“You know about dad?”

It’s Nina, her voice small, unlike you’ve ever heard her in the brief time since you’ve met her. You can’t tell if she sounds more scared or sad, unable to read her from here. Nico has a lot in common with his siblings. His openness with you isn’t one of them.

“Nico,” Luca says quietly, hesitantly. “What did you do? Where’s father?”

Your fiancé doesn’t so much as flinch. He doesn’t say anything, unable and unwilling to take credit for your handiwork with Rino. From the outside, it looks like Nico is simply waiting, his silence urging them to start speaking. From your view, you know he’s trying to decide what to say, if he should reveal the truth and risk losing them.

That’s not something you’re going to let happen.

Releasing the hem of his hoodie, you step around Nico to be by his side. Your movement makes him shift, dropping his arms out to the side and it looks like he’s about to sling them around you, shield you again. Before he can, you take a hold of his hand in both of yours, meeting his concerned gaze with a subtle nod of your head.

Understanding seeps into his eyes, his whole body relaxing as he accepts the comfort of holding your hand. The gesture does nothing for the other boys though, and you feel as much as you hear them shift closer.

“He didn’t do anything,” you answer, still looking at Nico for a moment longer. His fingers squeeze just once, in thanks, and then you level his brother with a confident stare. “I did.”

Luca looks just as confused as before, helplessly running a hand through his hair in frustration. You feel a little guilty for the eldest son. It’s not his fault he got stuck with the task of running the business, of keeping his father in check and managing the money and legacy his grandfather left behind. Trying to keep Rino from ruining it.

But then again, he never took a second to think about what it all means. He never decided to change like Nico has. And you don’t feel bad for him about that.

Nina is watching you sadly, her eyes big and droopy like Nico’s get when his feelings are hurt. That kicked puppy look, growing even more down trodden when she notices the cut on your lip, the protective gear on your torso.

“Y/n,” she breathes, taking a step towards you with her arm out. “you don’t have to be afraid of u-“

In perfect sync Nico yanks you back by the hand, half stepping in front of you just as Timo and Mercer close in beside you, guns digging into their shoulders and aimed at Nina. The safety never clicks off, but the effect is the same.

“If anyone is this god damn family touches her again I swear to god,” Nico warns gruffly, as Nina quickly retreats.

“Neeky, what are you talking about?” She begs, holding her hands up to show Mercer and Timo she means no harm. “The rifles, the guards, what is going on?”

Still half behind Nico’s arm, you finally look to Katja. She’s already watching you, an inquisitive but knowing look on her face. She’s waiting for you to make the move, and you know why. She took a risk warning you that day in the car, went against her husband and her powerful family for the first time in her life. And until you’ve admitted that you done what needed to be done, that’s she’s safe now too, she won’t utter another word about it.

“The car ride,” you address her, “it took me a bit, but I got it. I-we know everything.”

A proud smirk tugs at the corners of her lips, brief and tiny but still noticeable. You note the way her shoulders seem to lift, chin tilting up in admiration.

“Rino wanted you out Luca,” you continue, “and he wanted Nico back and punished for leaving. The only way to do that was to get his influence back, his loyal subjects.

“And Lena was his top recruit.”

Nina is the first to react, her hands shooting up to cover her mouth in disbelief. It’s a positive sign at the least. It means she didn’t know before, she wasn’t in on it with Reno.

“He planned it all from the day we got here. The texts and everything were on Lena’s phone-“

“We checked her phone,” Luca cuts in, not very much in denial but more so lost. Like he can’t fathom that this would happen. It gives you a little more hope.

“You missed her deleted albums,” you say pointedly, shooting Luca a scolding glare. Head of a business and he’s not even smart enough to snoop right. “She was working with Rino to earn her place back in the business by getting rid of me and dragging Nico home.”

Luca looks at you, eyebrow lifted in a fascinated way. It’s the same way he looked at you when you went against Nico and showed up here with the boys. “What did you do?”

“Mercer put a gun to the back of his head and I told him if he ever came near Nico or my family again we’d kill him.”

“And he ran,” Mercer adds gruffly, venom dripping from his tongue. “Like a fucking coward he took off.”

Briefly, you wonder why some people would even both having kids if they didn’t really want to love them. It’s clear from Luca and Nina’s downtrodden gazes that they’re not surprised. Whatever Rino has done in the past, it’s made it clear that his kids expect nothing great from him.

“We don’t know where he went or what he’ll do. I just know it’ll never involve Nico again.” You look to Katja again, a warm feeling swelling in your chest when you find her watching you with wet eyes. “And it won’t involve you either, as long as you don’t want it to.”

Nina and Luca whip around to stare at their mother, jaws dropped. “You knew?” Nina demands, meanly.

“I know everything Rino does.” She admits, devoid of her usual tone of privilege. “I’ve just never had the means to stop him.”

Nico’s other hand finds the back of your neck, fingers strong as he squeezes. You melt into his touch, a heavy breath falling from your lips. Katja nods at you.

“Until now, at least.”

“A little too fucking late!” Comes from upstairs, Jack you think might’ve said it but from here, him and Luke sound awfully similar.

You can’t help it. You laugh, small and quietly but enough to make Timo snicker too from the other side of Nico.

“Alright,” Nico sighs, amused. “We gotta stop you before they start a riot or something up there.”

His hand finds your neck again, heavy and sturdy, and you look up at him. His other fingers find your necklace, drawing the pendant out and laying it across the vest, the gold glinting on the black. For just a brief moment you two share a silent exchange, unsure of what you’re really looking to him for, but then his fingers are holding your chin high and confident, and he tilts his head just slightly, and you know. You did good, you made him proud, you did exactly what you were supposed to do here.

Timid, you give him a small smile and the moment is over though it’s not fleeting. Even after he releases your chin, and any fondness that had been in his eyes before fades as he turns to his family, you can still feel it.

“Nico I promise I didn’t know,” Luca says earnestly, “about Lena or any of it. You know how father is, I was so stuck on the business that I didn’t even notice him stirring things up.”

Stiffly, Nico nods and his gaze falls to Nina. “You really thought I knew Nico?”

“You came all the way from France for something,” he responds, accusingly. “And you didn’t think to tell me about running into Lena.”

Nina makes an affronted face, like her brother’s words have just broken her heart in two. “I did that for you,” she swears, “I came home because I wanted to see you. And everything with Lena, I thought it was harmless. You and y/n were so happy that night. It was a side of you I have never seen before and I thought telling you about Lena would scare you into not asking her to be your prinzessin.”

Lena harmless. You could almost laugh. She may have been helpless but that seemed to make her even more harmful. Though you supposed if Nico had asked you about her that night in the bar you would’ve thought the same thing. Just a jealous ex.

“I would never hurt you, Nico. I’d never hurt y/n either,” pleading eyes fall on you, their expression so like Nico it makes your heart jump. “I love you guys.”

Nico takes a deep breath, his shoulders shift with it and you settle your hand on the curve of his spine, hoping the touch is calming. After a beat he looks over his shoulder to Timo, waving them off. The air in the room seems to shift now that the weapons are hanging neutrally by the boys’ sides.

The collective sighs of relief from the three of them have you biting back a laugh, hiding your smile in Nico’s side. The hand on your neck slides down to grab at the straps of the bulky vest.

“Let’s get this off,” he suggests, lightly tugging on it. Eager and happy to get rid of the stupid thing, you step back and help him maneuver the Kevlar off. “Mercer take this back, yeah?”

Dawson takes it from him, eyeing Nico’s family as he moves around them to head towards the car. Nico takes a hold of your face, and you reach up to help him smooth your hair back down-

“Oh my god,” Nina’s gasp makes you freeze, both you and Nico wide eyed as you turn to her. “The ring, Nico oh my god.”

At her words Luca and Katja notice too, their gazes falling to your left hand and Nico easily catches your palm in his. The mention of it makes you smile, heat crawling up your neck and you practically drag Nico over to his family.

He’s still holding your hand as you stretch it out to Nina, the light catching the diamond on your finger and twinkling elegantly.

“Oh it’s beautiful,” Nina murmurs, blinking up at you. “Can I…” she motions to hug you. Nico only hesitates a moment before letting you go and you engulf Nina in a hug.

Katja manages to get Nico into one, a bit awkward looking when you glance over at him but he’s speaking quietly with her, and you wonder if it’s about the other ring. The last thing you want is her to be offended that he didn’t use it. Wait, where is that ring?

“Congrats,” Luca tells you, a nervous smile on his lips. You hug him too, thinking of how he had helped you the last time you were in this house. You’re glad that wasn’t just a ploy for him.

“Thank you,” you murmur thoughtfully, and he knows it’s for more than you’re actually saying. He squeezes you again briefly before letting you go, you swapping places with Nico.

“It is a beautiful ring,” Katja says, approaching you slowly. “I should’ve known he’d come prepared.”

Shocked, you blink at her. “You knew?”

A coy smile takes over her face. “Like I said, I know my son. He wouldn’t come home for no reason, unfortunately. And while he may like to rewrite rules, the prinzessin rules are tradition.”

“He needs approval.” You realize, a bit confused. Nico’s never followed any of their rules before. Of course the traditions of the Devs are mirrored of the ones here, but you can’t imagine him asking his mother permission.

“In his case no,” she explains, then cautiously reaches out for your hand. You let her take it between both of hers, squeezing slightly just like Nico does. “Nico has never needed or wanted permission from us for anything. But he wanted a chance for us to meet you first.”

“He cares what you guys think,” you tell her, “even if it doesn’t seem like it. And he talks about you all a lot.”

Katja smiles, grateful and emotional. “Thank you,” she whispers thickly, “for everything. For saving him, making him better than I ever could’ve.”

“He did that all himself,” you admit. “I might’ve been inspiration but Nico never needed to be fixed by anyone. He’s too stubborn.”

She laughs. “And thank you for trusting me, saving me.”

You can’t help it. You shake your hand out of hers, throwing your arms around her shoulders and hugging her. Katja squeezes you back, her hands cautious and gentle on your back but she still feels warm, relaxed. Somewhere in your head, you think she feels motherly. Not quite like Timo’s mother, but similar enough.

“If you ever need anything,” you begin but she shushes you.

“I know.”

Finally, you take a deep breath, closing your eyes and basking in the feeling of doing something right. You kept Nico safe from Rino, and he gets to keep the rest of his family.

Parting from Katja, you meet back up with Nico who tucks you under his arm protectively, kissing the top of your head.

“What do you have planned for the rest of the day?” Luca asks, tucking his hands into the front pocket of his jeans. Mercer comes back sans bulletproof vest, still watching Luca through narrowed eyes.

You give him a warning look. “Finish packing, probably nap for a bit. We were up early, uh and then we’ve got our flight home.”

Nina’s face falls at the mention of your departure tonight, frowning with those big moony eyes.

“You’ll still come see us, won’t you?” She asks, hopeful.

You and Nico exchange a look. It’s not that you haven’t enjoyed Switzerland. There was a lot of fun but there was also a lot of bad, and sometime the bad sticks longer than the good. You’re not saying you won’t come back ever, but for now you want to be home with Nico and Moose.

Nico sucks in a breath, shrugging as he turns to his sister. “Yeah, but not for a while.” He says, and Nina has barely had anytime to slump in defeat before you continue.

“But we’ve got lots of room in Jersey, and a wedding to plan soon, so…”

Nico squeezes your bicep. “So you’re always welcome to come visit.” It’s sweet how they all seem light up with happiness at the invite.

They may need a little work still, but that doesn’t mean they’re not family.

~~~~

Nico wonders a lot of things.

He wonders how people come up with plot lines for books, how they can concoct entire universes in their heads and execute effortlessly. Like that lady that wrote The Hunger Games. Where did that idea come from and how did it come out so well (he’s never read the book but you’ve told him about them).

He wonders how Bluetooth connection works. How did someone figure out that if you put a stupid little signal in one device and another signal in another device, they can talk to each other? It kind of works like magic but not really because magic isn’t real. Whose brain decided it would be cool to make this stuff interface with each other?

He wonders how vinyls work and why it makes music sound different. The little groves aren’t just spirals carved into the disc? How does a song get engraved? He wants to put two different ones under a microscope and see what the fuck is the difference on them that makes them play different songs.

What he wonders the most though, is how he managed to make you love him. He doesn’t question it often, tries not to test his luck but sometimes he can’t help it. In those moments where you’re looking at him like he’s the reason for life. When your eyes are big and full of awe, gazing into him as if you’re looking at heaven itself (if heaven is real). When you move in sync with him, fit under his arm like he’s the center of your gravity.

How did that happen? How did he become someone so deserving of being the center of your world?

“You’ve got a million thoughts behind those eyes.”

Nico smiles, a smug little curl of his lips and shrugs. You raise a single eyebrow, curiously looking up at him through your eyelashes before focusing back on the task at hand.

“Am I gonna get to know them any time soon?” You hold up the black Kith hoodie he loves, the one that’s got that cute dog embroidered on it, squinting as you picture what it would look like on him with the dark sweats you put to the side for him earlier.

“Think you already know them,” he teases, and you subtly shake your head before tossing the hoodie to the bed. “Know everything don’t you?”

“This marriage thing is gonna work out great,” you say dreamily, “you already know the most important rule.”

Nico laughs, holding still as best he can as you hold up a quarter zip to his torso. It’s red and fleece, incredibly warm and soft if he recalls correctly. It’s not something he wears often but it’s the perfect shade of devils red and you always touch his biceps and chest when he wears it, feeling how fluffy it is.

He already knows it’s the one you’re going to choose by the way your eyes light up, a pleased smirk on your face. So he’s not at all surprised when you take it off the hanger, folding it to go alongside his sweats with a cute little, “perfect!”

“Are you gonna dress me everyday now?”

Snaking his arms around your waist, he presses his face into the crook of your neck. “Maybe,” you laugh, “especially if I’m gonna be the one holding you on the plane tonight when you’re crying.”

“I don’t cry,” he argues, nibbling on the soft skin and you jump, startled by his blunt teeth nipping at you. “I whine, s’different.” Nico’s arms keep you still, held tight to the front of him as you squirm away from his teasing nips.

“Tomato, tomato,” you rebuttal, “either way I’m the one holding your fidgeting butt still.”

That makes him laugh, tossing his head back and you, pleased with his reaction, giggle alongside him. It wasn’t that funny a joke, but maybe he’s just that happy. He loves you that much.

“I appreciate it.” He compliments, kissing the back of your head. His hands fall to rest on your hips, fingertips lingering as you move away from him to finish collecting the things you need to pack.

Nico sits on the edge of the bed, heart full. His eyes follow you around the room, stars practically twinkling in his pupils. You’re so beautiful, so wonderful, so amazingly perfect for him.

“I can do that, ya know?” He calls, amused but grateful that you’re taking over the tedious task for him.

Approaching the suitcases laid out beside him, you tuck the stack of shirts into the little crevices and corners of the case. Funnily, Nico notices that he no longer has his own suitcase. No, you’ve just mixed all your stuff in with his and his with yours. There’s no apparent rhyme or reason either.

“I know,” you utter, “maybe sometimes I just like doing things for you.”

Nico’s heart swells, erratically vibrating under his skin and he feels the urge to tackle to you to the bed, lay himself on top of you and just squeeze you until you pop. Instead he chuckles.

“Maybe sometimes?” He asks casually, “not all the time?”

“No,” you giggle, a hand on your hip as you smile at him. Then something curious settles over your features, confusion in your gaze. “What happened to the other ring?”

He pauses, gaze flittering to the ensuite bathroom before settling back on you. It was long enough for you to catch though, your eyes shifting up to look at the open door and then you're taking off. Scrambling away from his grabbing hands with a giggle, Nico chases after you with a lighthearted "wait!"

You're already in the bathroom though, tearing through the drawers and shifting around whatever left over junk he abandoned in there years ago. "Nico, where?" You beg, still pawing around.

Sighing, he shifts onto his knees and pulls open the cabinet door beneath his sink. You crowd behind him, shifting impatiently as he shoves boxes of cleaning supplies and extra shampoos to the side. Behind the drain pipe, his finger brush against the velvet box and he grabs it. Then, with a blank look on his face, he holds it up to you.

"Ooh," you squeal, taking it and flipping the top open. Knees cracking, he returns to his full height, nudging the cabinet shut with his foot. Propped up against the counter, Nico watches you with bated breath as you examine the ring from his mother.

He's not stupid. It's obvious you think the ring is beautiful, that it impressed you the first moment you saw it out on the front steps. Maybe he was a little worried you'd be upset he didn't give you that ring, but it's obvious now that he made the right choice. Your eyes shift over to your left hand and something seems to sparkle in them, as if the diamond and pearls themselves live inside your irises. Yeah, his mother's ring is beautiful, but you love the one on your finger.

"Right choice?" He asks anyway, still a bit hesitant.

You bite your lip, nodding happily. "Perfect choice," you assure. Gently, you close the box and hold it out to him.

“S’yours,” Nico shoos it away, not interested in taking it back from you.

“Katja gave it to you,” you tell him, shaking your hand as if that knock enough sense into him to take it back. What are you going to do with two rings?

“For you,” he presses, “it’s yours baby. You get to decide what to do with it.”

It’s a lot of pressure. This family heirloom that he never thought he’d get, a token of acceptance from his mother and he doesn’t even want it. He wants you to have it.

The thing is, you don’t really want it either. You don’t need his mother’s acceptance or the tradition of this business. You and Nico are not a part of it. You have your own family and life and traditions you want to set up, ones that have real meaning behind them. You have a ring that was given out of love, not out of contract or obligation.

It means nothing to you.

But you’d imagine it doesn’t mean nothing to his siblings, the ones still here and trying to redefine the organization their father built. Maybe the ring should be redefined, given a new purpose.

Maybe it’s time the ring goes to a Hischier daughter. Someone who will know what to do with it. And will know what it has meant for the women before her.

“Ok,” you murmur, reminding yourself to leave it on the outside pocket of your carry on. “Thank you, Nico.”

He takes a hold of your hips in his large hands, guiding you to stand between his thighs. You go pliantly, melting into his broad chest with a soft sound of contentment.

“Thank you,” he whispers, tone heavy with what he’s not willing to say right now. You get it all the same, and the feeling of pride from earlier swarms up in your chest again. You did good, you won, you did it all for Nico. And sure you’ll have to still keep an ear to the ground for Rino, but Nico is safe and happy.

You press a kiss to his chest through his shirt. “I’m tired, Schao.”

He runs a hand up your back, nose pressing into your forehead sweetly. “Let’s go nap baby.” He pats at the outside of your thigh, moving to guide you back to the room. “We’ve had a busy day.”

Starting the day with an early morning proposal and then the chat with his family, and now a long trip home. It has been a busy day.

You wiggle out of your jeans, kicking them towards your suitcase to be packed later before climbing into the bed that’s still unmade. Nico kicks off his own jeans, working his shirt over his head and you’re reminded of how he’d celebrated your engagement in these very sheets just this morning.

Blushing, you watch as Nico slips under his side of the blankets. Like two magnet ends, you slide into his side, laying your cheek on his bicep and throwing your leg over his middle. Smiling, his free hand drops under the blankets to hold the meatiest part of your thigh, the pads of his fingers lovingly rubbing little circles into your skin.

“We’ll be home soon,” you whisper, excited. He makes an agreeable humming noise and you peak up to find his eyes already closed, dark eyelashes brushing the tops of his cheeks.

Laying your left hand over his heart, you admire the pretty diamond for a bit longer. Feeling his heart beat, listening to his breath even out, entranced by the pretty pearls until your eyes slip shut on their own accord.

~~~~

Nico is having a dream.

Or something like a dream, he thinks. He’s been here a million times, knows the exact shade of the walls and the thread count of the bed sheets and the smell of the candle on the nightstand. It is his favorite place after all; The bedroom he shares with you at home.

For a moment he thinks it’s a memory. There’s something about the air in the room, it feels so familiar and certain. Like he already knows what’s gonna happen and he’s just patiently waiting for it. He shuffles in the bed, blinking through the dark air as he realizes you’re awake too and quietly speaking.

Nico thinks you’re speaking to him, sits up higher on the pillows and moves to fully look at you. But you’re not looking at him. Instead, you’re turned away from him, sitting up with the bedding bunched around your hips. His shirt is draped over your shoulders and hangs loosely around your neck, the collar stretched out from the countless times he yanked and pulled it to kiss down the column of your throat and collarbones.

His mind tells him to reach out, to brush his fingers over the back of your neck to get your attention. His hands stay still though, muscles not making any effort to comply with his brain. Helpless, Nico watches your shoulders and back move as you speak quietly, the words unintelligible to him.

Moving on its own accord, Nico’s body sits up on the mattress and tucks into the curve of your back, his chin pressing into your shoulder blade. The sight in front of him makes his heart skip, confusion turning to panic, and he’s so grateful that your hand reaches back to rest on his thigh, as if comforting him.

A dream, it has to be a dream. Because it’d be impossible of him to have the memory of a child standing at your bedside in the middle of the night.

It’s a boy, maybe eight or nine years old. It’s funny, Nico thinks, how dark the room is but the features of the boy are crystal clear. Dark brown eyes, red rimmed and full of tears, innocently framed by equally dark eyelashes. It’s startling to see, to be looking at the same eyes he sees in the mirror.

Nico’s breath catches in his chest. He’s looking at himself he think, examining the boys dark and messy hair. Why is he looking at himself?

Except he’s not, he realizes a beat later. The soft shape of the boys face, the fullness of his mouth, the roundness of his nose. They’re features he’d recognize anywhere because they’re yours.

This boy, a perfect blend of you and him, isn’t a younger, dream version of himself. It’s a child he shares with you, it’s your son.

He doesn’t blink an eye at Nico’s sudden presence over your shoulder, his gaze desperately locked on you and if his eyes weren’t enough to prove this kid is Nico’s too, that simple action certainly is.

A teddy bear is clutched in the boys hands, little fingers tangled around the neck of the stuffed animal. Deja vu stirs Nico’s brain, memories of him as a child holding his bear the same way suddenly surfacing. Maybe that kid is supposed to be Nico when he was younger because the more he notices, the more he realizes he’s lived this night before.

The boy is hiccuping, fighting back blubbery cries and squeezing at that teddy bear as he retells the nightmare he woke up from. A once dream of him out in the yard, running and giggling through a game of tag with ‘the family’. It’s fun and he’s so excited to be with everyone.

Until suddenly it’s not fun and he doesn’t want anyone there. They’ve all turned into monsters, twisted faces of the people he loves, their eyes now black and menacing, chasing him with a dangerous desperation. It feels like they want to kill him.

The boy doesn’t say that, but Nico knows. It’s the same nightmare he used to have as a child. Luca and Nina, chasing him with evil eyes and death grips. His parents, following behind with the same look, not pursuing really but not helping either. It was the dream that plagued him for years, forced him from his bed and into his parent’s room until he was old enough to realize he was better off soothing himself back to sleep.

The air in the room has gone cold, Nico’s own breath shuddering against the skin of your shoulder and he wants to move, needs to move. He needs to reach around you, reach for the crying boy because Nico knows what comes next.

It’s the part where his mother blinks back at him, tired and annoyed, mumbling dismissively that it was a dream and he’s too old to be doing this. He has his own bed and room, he knows how to put himself back to bed. Time to grow up and get over it, or if really necessary, wake the nanny next time. His father has work tomorrow and can’t be disturbed. Nico knows that, he’s reminded and then sent back out of the room with his teddy bear squeezed so tightly in his hands he thinks the seams might rip.

He still can’t move however, can’t get his body to cooperate with the signals he’s screaming at it. Someone needs to get to the boy, needs to pick him up and hug him, needs to wipe those tears off his puffy cheeks and tell him that would never happen, that his family loves him and he’s got nothing to be scared of.

To his horror, Nico blinks and realizes it would be you. You’d be his mother in this dream, dismissing the boy with a cold shoulder before making sure he himself hasn’t been bother by the intrusion. The same as his mother used to do for his father. Even worse, Nico realizes he’s his father in this stupid dream, this stupid nightmare.

You pull away from Nico and his heart seizes, his own eyes stinging with tears as he waits for you to dismiss the crying child. He’s a marble statue on the bed, watching you reach for the blankets with bated breath.

He expects you to pull them back over your shoulder and lay down. Except you don’t, your hands pushing them further down your thighs and you’re getting up from the bed.

Like its instinct, the boys stretches his little arms out to you and you lean down to meet him halfway. Wrapping him up in your arms, you lift him onto your hip and the boy curls into you, hugging his bear tightly and laying his head on your chest. You hold him protectively, a hand soothing the hair on the nape of his neck and rocking him steadily until his cries are just sniffles into the fabric of your shirt. It’s then that Nico can finally move again, the invisible hold on his limbs easing to nothing.

“He’s ok,” he hears himself saying, “he’s ok now.”

Like you’re seeing him for the first time, not noticing until now that Nico is in the dream, you turn to him. Your eyes shine, tired but warm and with a loving smile you approach the bed. Nico reaches out, eager now that he can get his body to cooperate and gestures for you to get back in bed. Softly, you lay the boy down in bed, his head on your pillow and wet eyes blinking at Nico.

“Daddy?” He asks and Nico can’t breathe, can’t speak. His mouth opens, unsure of what to even say but nothing comes out anyway. It feels like his vocal cords have been taken, silenced.

But then you lay down too, settling into the mattress besides the young boy and Nico lets out a quiet breath. Nervously, Nico draws the teary eyed boy into his chest, hands tender and uncertain but the boy goes easily, snuggling into Nico’s hold like he’s been there a million times before. Laying back into the pillows, Nico watches you move closer, laying your head on his bicep and your hand comes up to play with the boys hair. You throw your leg over Nico’s, touch your foot to his calf and he melts into the bed.

It feels safe, being here. In his bed, his home with you. The weight of you and the son he shares with you on his chest. Knowing that he’s ok, Nico’s ok and the boy is too.

Nico wakes up with a start, the light of the setting sun harsh on his eyes and he has to blink rapidly to get the white spots to clear up. Heart thumping painfully loud in his chest and ears, he forces himself to take deep breaths.

He’s in his room, well the room you two now share, just not the one from his dream. This house and room have been left at the bare minimum, abandoned after he left to the United States. The cleaning crew comes every other week to keep it fresh and tidy, and the grounds crew every few weeks to care for the lawn. Nico’s never cared about this house. It was given to him by his grandfather, part of his inheritance. They all got a house within ten miles of grandfathers house. For security and safety reasons.

Nico almost sold it when he first got to Jersey. Thought of using the money to speed up the process of getting the Devs going, but he actually enjoyed living in the cramped apartment with Timo and Jonas and Jesper and the girls. It felt like a real home with a real family.

And his siblings would never forgive him if he got rid of the family gift from his grandfather.

Now, he’s glad he didn’t. It’s still not home to him, but he’s shared too many moments in this house with you already. He can’t imagine anyone else but you in the kitchen, drinking tea with him in the morning. Chasing you around the piles of snow outback in the middle of the night. The sheets have already begun to smell like you and him, a perfect mix of his cologne and your perfume, just like the sheets back in Jersey.

And as much as he hated his grandfather, the old kook was right about one thing. Being this close is safe. If anything were to happen to him, to the Devs, you’d have this home. A safe place for you and Moose and probably Alex too at the very least. Near his family, his mother who he can shockingly trust to make sure you’re taken care of.

Nico’s pulse and breath even out, and he drags a hand down his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. They still feel heavy and groggy, begging to return to sleep. He blinks, lets the image of the dream float fuzzily into his mind again.

A kid. Nico had a kid. Somewhere in his subconscious, he’s ok with that. The thought brings a lump to front of his throat, but not one big enough to choke on. Improvement, he thinks happily. He’s easing into this family thing, spurred by the image of you. You’ve always been so sweet with Nico, so patient of his faults and the time he needed to grow up and heal.

He can be patient too, he thinks. And kind, and loving, and protective, and providing. And present. Everything a good dad should be.

Tears sting at the back of his throat, blurring his vision and he sniffles quietly.

Nico doesn’t want to wake you, but the arm you’re using as a pillow is stinging with pins and needles, fingertips cold and numb. And even though you’re plastered to his side, he wants more.

Hesitant and a bit embarrassed, he rolls onto his side to face you, wincing as he attempts to wiggle his arm out from under you. The movement makes you stir, a sharp inhale of air cutting through the silent room and then your blinking your eyes open, coming face to face with Nico.

“Sorry,” he whispers, pathetically, his voice cracking. That stupid burning feeling in his throat grows and Nico’s not even sure what he wants, what’s going on. He can feel himself panicking again as you sit up a bit and free his arm. He’s about to start babbling his dream to you in defense for the tears but you don’t even give him a chance.

Sleepily, you move up the pillows and onto your side, still facing him. But your arm is pushing at his shoulder and he molds like putty in your hands. Nudging him to move onto his side, his back now facing you, Nico inhales shakily. He can feel you shuffling behind him, rustling the blankets like you’re searching for something and he opens his mouth to ask what you’re doing.

You shush him by throwing your arm around his chest and your leg over his hip, pulling yourself tight to his back. Soft and worn fabric tickles the skin of his chest and he cranes his neck down, blinking at the sight of his teddy bear. He’d grabbed it from his childhood bedroom for you in the hospital and ever since it’s slept by your head or in the crook of your elbow.

Nico takes the bear from your hand, laying it against his chest and bicep, and you curl your arm tighter around him, fingers pressing over his heart in a welcome weight. It’s a nice feeling, the pressure and warmth of your body wrapped around him like this, and he can kinda see why you like when he holds you like this.

He feels so…safe and shielded. He closes his eyes, ignores the wet feeling of a few tears slipping down his cheeks.

“S’ok,” you whisper quietly into his ear, your face pressed into the back of his neck. “I’ve got you Neeky, s’ok.”

He drifts back off again, faintly realizing that that’s the first time you’ve called him that.

~~~~

The jet looms off to the side of the runway, the windows glowing with the cabin light and bulbs on the wings blinking. The car rolls to a stop next to a familiar black SUV, Timo putting it in park and killing the engine. Through the tinted window you can make out the other three Hischiers leaning against the front of it, bundled up in their coats. Luca’s got his arm tucked around a small, huddling figure.

“Maja,” you tell Nico, pressing your finger to the glass and looking back at him with a smile. He follows your gesture, laughing softly.

“You like Maja huh?

“She’s sweet,” you answer, moving to release your seatbelt just as the other vehicle pulls up next to you. Mercer, eager to get home, practically leaps out of the drivers seat.

Timo is the first to get out, quickly dashing around the front of the car to open the passenger door for Amelia and you and Nico giggle quietly to yourself. You’ve never seen Timo so romantic before.

Pulling Nico’s beaning further over his ears and checking his zipper, you give him another little grin before opening the door. The air is cold and biting, stings your cheeks as you shuffle out and Nico follows, staying close to your back.

The other boys have all gotten out of the car too, lined up groggily by the back of your SUV and Timo leaves Amelia standing with you, moving towards the trunk.

“Timo,” Nico stops him, nodding to Amelia. “They’ve got it.”

Luke, Alex, and Mercer don’t even so much as grumble when Nico gestures for them to load the bags on the jet. Jack however, rolls his eyes, stomping his feet like a child as he joins them.

The Hischiers have come over to help now, not that Nico would ever let them so they all just stand in front of you, waiting and expectant.

“You have everything you need?” Nina asks you first, faux cheeriness in her voice and you know how upset she is to see her baby brother go.

Nico laughs under his breath, moving around you and pulling his sister into a hug. It’s enough of an answer for her, Nina greedily accepting the affection and snuggling into his hold.

“Come on you,” Maja calls, pulling herself out of her hiding spot under Luca’s arm. Simultaneously, they stretch out their arms to you and you laugh, moving to accept the double hug from them. Their puffer jackets make it a bit of a tight fit but you don’t mind, squeezing them as tight as you can.

“It was so nice to meet you, y/n.” Maja tells you, “you know if you ever need anything at all we’re here. Luca loves long flights.”

He makes a noise of complaint, something between a scoff and a snort, and you almost laugh imagining him just as restless on planes as Nico is.

“You and Nico both, huh?” You tease, pulling back to smile at him. He chuckles, snaking a cold hand up to ruffle your hair.

“You take care of him, ok kid?” He tells you, and even though it’s said softly, you can hear the underlying concern in his tone.

“Always,” you promise, then narrow your eyes at him in a stern frown. “You take care of Maja and Katja, ok kid?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Not Nina?”

“Nah I think she can handle herself and her Frenchies.”

That makes both Luca and Maja laugh, him giving you one final squeeze before letting you go. “I will.” He assures, a fond look in his eyes as he awkwardly pats at the top of your head again. Maja presses a sisterly kiss to your cheek, grinning sadly as she returns to hiding under Luca’s arm.

Nico, now parted from his sister, moves to swap places with you, his hand briefly finding the small of your back. Nina is already crying when you get to her, cheeks red from the cold and glistening.

“Aww don’t do that.” You beg, bundling her up in a hug. She laughs wetly, pressing her face into your shoulder.

“I got the emotions for all three of us it seems,” she jokes, referencing the lack of tears coming from her brothers. You don’t tell her that Nico can actually be the world’s biggest softy. And you don’t think about waking up to him crying earlier, because if it were something he wanted you to be concerned about, he’d tell you.

It was him healing, you tell yourself, and then shake the memory away for now.

“A blessing and a curse,” you say, pulling back to hold her at arms length. She swipes at her cheeks, sniffling.

“Thank you for everything this trip,” she says earnestly. “You make him so happy, it’s like a brand new Nico. He hasn’t been like this since he was a baby.”

Your heart squeezes, a bittersweet feeling seeping into your veins. Sometimes it’s hard to picture Nico being a happy baby. He’s so neutral and solid now, confident but tense. Like he’s always waiting for something. But when you picture him singing in the car or wrestling Moose for toys and hanging out at the bar with the boys, you can see it.

Nico was born happy and bright, warm like the sun. Sometimes he hides it, but eventually he’ll show himself.

“You fixed him.” Nina shrugs, sniffling with fresh tears in her eyes again.

“That was all him,” you tell her, repeating your words to Katja from earlier “I may have been inspiration but he never really needed fixing. He just needed to know that we love him.”

The tears roll down her cheeks, a blubbering cry escaping her and you laugh, pulling her into another hug. After a moment of sniffling, she pulls back.

“I’m ok,” she says more to herself, laughing again. “I’m sorry he grew up like this, that we grew up like this.”

It’s not her fault, though you can’t really imagine having a baby brother and not protecting him. Maybe it’s just who you are though. Still, you wave off the apology. “It made him strong, it made you all strong.”

Releasing her, you dig in your pocket for the box you’d set aside earlier. Nina blinks rapidly, trying to dry her eyes and you hold it out to her.

“I think this belongs to you now.”

She gapes, recognizing the box immediately just as Nico had. “Y/n,” she gasps, “what? No that’s, she gave it to you and Nico-“

“Actually she gave it to Nico, and Nico gave it to me, and well I already have one so I figured it should go to someone who can make it mean something worthwhile.”

Nina shakes her head. “What about Luca? It’s meant for marriage?”

“I was told it stood more contractual obligation, but it should stand for love. It’s a wedding ring, after all. It should have ties to love.”

You press the box into her trembling hand. “Nico and I love you Nina. You’re the big sister I never had and well, this should dazzle on your finger while you woo every pretty French boy that struts by…”

She laughs wetly.

“And then maybe one day you’ll give it to your kids, kids you love, and they’ll give it to someone else they love.”

Her fingers wrap so tightly around the box her knuckles turn white. “I used to steal it from my mother’s jewelry box,” she says with awe. “After father got her an anniversary one and this one wasn’t worn anymore. I’d put it on my hand and imagine my grandmother had given it to me because it went so well with my eyes.”

Startling, you think it does. She’s got little flecks of green in them, more brown than anything else but they’re there. The same shade as the ring.

“It does,” you agree, letting her hug you again.

“I love you both too,” she murmurs, “and I’m gonna be a better sister, ok?”

Squeezing her, you nod. You don’t have a doubt that she won’t at least try, and that’s all you can really ask for. Maybe with Rino gone they’ll all find what they’ve been looking for.

Nina lets you go, tucking her hands into her coat pocket and sniffling through a smile. Nico finds his place next to you again, his hand falling to your lower back protectively and you subconsciously press closer into his side. Over her shoulder, the boys are carrying the last of the bags onto the jet.

Katja is fidgeting as she comes to say goodbye, anxiously picking at the strings of a gift bag in her gloved hand. It’s the most unkempt and normal looking you’ve ever seen her. It’s refreshing.

“My turn?” She says with a weak laugh.

She’s close enough for you to reach out and touch her, so you carefully cup your hands around the fist holding the gift bag.

“Thank you,” you say earnestly, “for warning us, for trusting me. I’m sorry it took me a bit to realize it.”

Katja shakes her head softly. “Don’t thank me. It was the right thing to do,” she looks at Nico, blinks sadly. “I should’ve done a lot of things differently and I should’ve done them a lot sooner,

“I’m sorry that I didn’t fight for my autonomy Nico, and I’m even more sorry that I didn’t fight for yours either.”

His body stiffens behind you, and you quickly let go of Katja’s hands in favor of slipping your arm around his waist and resting the other on his stomach, grounding him.

From here you can only see his side profile, stoic and intense in a way that’s strictly his resting face. But you can feel it in him, see it in his eyes that are always so telling. Something raw and tender.

“You fought for my girl,” he says quietly, “that’s apology enough mother.”

It’s not exactly forgiveness, but it is acceptance, and that’s good for now. You can’t expect Nico to let everything go after one apology. After all, he was just a kid, a young boy with a big heart who tried to please everyone, tried to make them love him, and in return he only got hurt.

That’ll probably stay with him for the rest of his life.

Katja smiles, a little amused as if she were expecting him to say that. Again, you think of Nico waking you earlier, how desperate and upset he looked, lost in whatever dream he had. You wonder if she ever saw him like that, ever held him and let him know he was safe. After all, his favorite thing in the world to tell you is that you’re safe with him. Maybe he picked it up from her.

You have a feeling, though that it might just be strictly a Nico thing.

“This is for you,” Katja clears her throat uncomfortably. “I figured you’d want it for the wedding maybe or to just have.”

She holds the bag out to Nico, his fingers trembling as he pulls the handles apart. You tip toe to look inside with him, chest aching painfully when you see the baby blue book printed with bears and rattles. It’s a baby book, you realize, and tucked against it are thin stacks of photographs and old, crumbled drawings, all placed in a protective plastic sleeve.

It’s his childhood all tucked into one gift bag. The good parts of it at least. Rino did all he could to silence Katja, to make her just a figure in the background but at the end of the day she’s still a mother and Nico is still her baby boy.

You were wrong about her being unfazed by Nico’s indifference to her. This whole time she’s been secretly holding on to any parts of him she could get her hands on, no matter how tiny.

Nico, a bit dazed, hands the bag to you. You accept it, letting it hang from your fingertips carefully while he stares back at his mother.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “I-I was always trying to get photos from Nina to show her and yeah.”

It’s clear he doesn’t know what to say, overwhelmed with the gift but still appreciative. Katja must know that too, because she nods at him.

Nico coughs, clearing his throat. “We should get going. Don’t want to get in too late.”

Katja doesn’t say anything, just looks at you knowingly before you and Nico turn to gather Timo. He’s still saying goodbye Amelia, large arms wrapped around her and his face hidden in her hair. You and Nico already said your goodbyes to her in the car, knowing her and Timo would want this time together.

Leaving them to their moment, you look up at the jet, find the younger boys already seated inside and watching you both through the windows. You laugh softly, bumping Nico and gesturing for him to look.

“Dramatic,” he mutters with a roll of his eyes.

The Hischiers all look to you, one last parting smile on their lips. “Let us know when you land,” Nina requests and you happily oblige.

Nico takes your hand, starts to lead you towards the jet but you pause, waving to them one more time. “We’ll see you guys soon, yeah?”

Nina and Luca laugh. “We’ll talk after the holidays!” She calls, because you’re still slowly trailing away with Nico.

“Maja?”

You can’t see her smile, but you can hear it. “I’ll be there!”

Hopeful, you look to the slowly shrinking outline of Katja. She smiles, in a pristine but motherly way. “Soon,” she agrees simply, and you accept the answer, letting Nico easily guide you up the steps and into the jet.

~~~~

Nico’s foot fell asleep 20 minutes ago, his toes prickling uncomfortably with needles but he doesn’t dare move. After two hours of him attempting to act normal on the flight, sitting as still as possible and forcing himself to breathe evenly so he’s not huffing out sighs every five minutes, he’d given up.

Timo, a bittersweet look on his face, had collapsed into his seat and shut his eyes before the jet door was even shut. Nico doesn’t know if he’s asleep or just pretending, but no one dares disturb a tender-hearted Timo.

Jack and Luke had pulled out their switches as soon as the jet reached cruising altitude, bickering with each other over Fortnite and some other tractor game in the seats across from Timo.

Alex and Mercer sat across from Nico and you, shifting through the goody bags you’d left at all their seats. A little wooden mind puzzle game had kept Mercer occupied for about an hour, while Alex consumed almost every snack in his bag before curling up under a blanket and going to sleep.

It was at that point that Nico decided he’d had enough of acting like flying isn’t the bane of his fucking existence. It’s uncomfortable, it takes forever, there’s no breaks, and food options suck.

“Baby,” he’d pouted, looking to you all snug under your blanket with his teddy bear. You were half asleep too, eyes heavy and low as you just watched him and he wondered if you were waiting for him to fall asleep first.

At his beckoning, you’d gotten up from your seat and slipped easily between his parted thighs, settling into his lap like you belonged there. Then you’d slid his laptop over from in front of your seat, putting the volume on low and pressing play on Casablanca. Nico thinks you maybe watched five minutes of it before you fell asleep on his shoulder, your hand tucked under the hem of his quarter zip to warm your cold fingers.

Nico hasn’t moved since, except to switch movies and then pull the blanket over your shoulders. Even though he really wants to slip his stupid shoes off and he should probably get feeling back to his foot. Instead he just holds you, enjoying the feeling of your back steadily rising and falling as you breathe.

Just over the screen of the laptop, broody brown eyes watch him, swollen and tired but refusing to shut. Nico was hoping the further away from Switzerland you got, the more relaxed Mercer would be. Instead he looks like he’s got cyanide between his teeth.

Nico gently cups his hand over your ear, not wanting to wake you. “Merc,” he calls quietly, “she’s fine now buddy. I swear.”

“I know,” he says, blinking lazily “but it was scary Nico. Her asking me to do that was scary and seeing him hit her…”

Dawson adjusts himself in his seat, making a face like just the memory of it makes him sick. “I remember her after Philly. And I remember you both disappearing. And I know she’s got you and you’ve got her, but maybe I’ve got both of you too, ya know?”

In all this time since Philly, Nico never thought what happened really changed the boys. Sure they were upset and protective over her, but that comes with the territory. He never imagined that it scared them or still haunted them to this day too. Enough so that even a cut to your lip could make Mercer get like this.

Nico’s proud. Mercer has always kind of skated by, goofed off and put in minimal effort. Most of the time it feels like the boy just gets by on luck. Yet he’s spent this whole trip being your guy, your second hand, your Robin basically. And he’s done it better than Nico could’ve asked him to.

“Yeah,” he agrees, quietly because he does understand. Mercer doesn’t want this to set them back, to become something you hide from.

“I’m sorry,” Mercer suddenly mumbles, frowning with this far away look in his eyes. “About Rino and your family. And I’m sorry we always called you grumpy and stuff. If my family were like that I don’t think I’d even be half as nice as you are.”

Nico chuckles. “Nice isn’t typically used to describe me Merc.”

“Well you are nice,” he insists, gaze returning to Nico now. “I mean, you took a bunch of us in and made us a family. Taught us how to grow up. I was big ol’ baby before I got here. Never had to do anything for myself. And Alex was gonna spend his life in prison. And she didn’t have anyone anymore.

“You gave us a good home, Boss.”

It’s a little too much to take in. Nico feels like his nerves have been stripped raw and exposed to the winter winds all day, relentless and invisible fingers picking at them like strings. First his family, now this. He’s not sure what else he can take.

He clears his throat, nodding stiffly in thanks and the faintest hint of a smie flashes on Mercer's face. "Get some rest Dawson, we're ok now." Finally, he closes his eyes, leaning back into his seat. Nico waits for the sounds of Dawson's breath to even out before he too closes his eyes.

Nico doesn’t want to come back to Switzerland for a long time, especially not without knowing where Rino ran off too. But he thinks of the gift bag from his mother, the engagement ring sitting prettily on your finger, the image of you engulfed in tearful hugs with Luca, Maja, and Nina, and he thinks maybe it wasn’t all so bad.

He’s coming home feeling more loved and accepted than he’s ever felt in his life. And it’s all thanks to you, his fiancée, his girl. His family, he thinks warmly, drifting off to join you in sleep.

[magnificentstrawberryomen]

halloween party (noah sebastian x reader)

18+, mdni, nsfw, Ghostface and Halloween-themed

It is October 31st, meaning it is both Halloween and my room mate Noah’s birthday. Every year we celebrate it at the same time, along with me, the rest of the band and some other friends and crew-members.

I start to get ready, and I had decided I wanted to be an attractive vampire this year for Halloween. I wear a fancy white blouse with a black leather corset on top, with rose detailed designs on it, making it look chic like and perfect for the costume. Underneath that I wear a short leather skirt, black thin tights and long, warm black socks for over my matching leather boots, detailed with spikes and chains. My black hair is styled a bit messy and my make up is dark with red, matching with the blood colored lipstick on my lips, that I smug a bit on the edges. When I look at the reflection of the mirror, I look satisfied and am ready for the party.

When I leave my room to head downstairs, I hear Noah's door open and close, making me smile in excitement.

“Hey birthday guy—“

I want to greet him, but as soon as I see what he is dressed up this year, which is Ghostface, I am stuck in my tracks. My lips part as I slightly swallow, my eyes taking in Noah, feeling my cheeks slowly flush. No way he is dressed up as Ghostface, my all time favorite horror character, someone I secretly swoon about sometimes, since I might… have a thing for masks.

Noah clearly notices me eyeing him up and down, as he then amusingly asks, “Like what you see, y/n?” His voice is a bit muffled by the mask.

“Eh, yeah, you—you look very cool as Ghostface,” I stumble, swallowing once again, quickly tucking strands of hair behind my ear as I then move past him, downstairs down to the kitchen, making me suddenly very aware how short my skirt is again as I move.

He follows me down to the kitchen, feeling his stare burning behind me, feeling like it's completely taking me in, making me heat up even more.

“When will the others arrive again?” I then ask once we are in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water out of our fridge and taking some quick gulps. Our kitchen and living room is decorated and in the Halloween spirit, something I loved to do for Noah since I love both decorating and Halloween.

Noah stands next to me, and I notice a slight smile present on his face under the mask by the bright lights in the kitchen, looking around at my decorations as well. “You have outdid yourself this year once again,” he comments, before remembering my question. “They should be here in like 20 minutes.”

I smile up at him, appreciating his compliment. “Thank you, always try my best.”

I turn to put the bottle back into the fridge, and when I then turn back around to Noah again, his mask is off, revealing his messy hair that is slightly pulled back, and in combination with the gloves and robe he is wearing I almost choke in my own breath.

“Jesus Christ,” I then mumble underneath my breath as a I move myself to the couch before I can embarass myself even more.

Noah and I have been roommates for a year now, being kind enough to rent and share his space with me, and if I’m being honest I have found him attractive from the start. But since we became good friends and he is mostly away on the road with his band, I decided to let the possibility of something more blooming between us go.

Noah lets out a low chuckle as he notices me looking flustered as he sits down right beside me, clearly being very much aware of the effect he has on me. “You okay?” he asks, a slight smile on his face as he tilts his head at me.

“Yeah,” I mumble, as I then watch him for a moment, my eyes ranking down to his costume again. “I can imagine that being warm inside,” I then nod to his outfit, flushing once again, so I quickly flick my eyes down to my lap. Damn, I hate being so flustered so fucking easily—I shouldn’t and I know that it’s wrong, but he looks even ten times hotter with that damn costume on.

He raises an eyebrow at my comment. “You’re not wrong,” he shrugs, before he lets his eyes move down to my outfit as well.

“I can imagine yours is a bit heavy as well,” he then comments, his eyes raking over my corset.

“Oh, it's okay,” I shrug with a sheepish smile, looking down at my white blouse and corset on top. “There’s a chance that I’ll take the blouse from underneath the corset off later this evening though, since the house will be pretty crowded and stuff.”

Noah nods slowly at my statement, the image seeming to flash before his eyes for a moment. “Maybe I should take my robe off for the same reason,” he then jokingly comments, winking in my direction, before he gets up from the couch again, heading to the kitchen to get himself something to drink.

Oh, you definitely should, I mentally think to myself, feeling heated by his wink, and then quickly shake the thought away in embarrassment.

Twenty minutes later, Noah’s friends and band members arrive, all wishing him a happy birthday and some of my friends join us later. Even though Noah insisted that he did not want some special moment with a cake and candles he had to blow out, we of course did exactly that, and even though he rolled his eyes and pretended to be grumpy with his arms crossed in front of his chest, I could tell by the sparkle in his eyes that he secretly enjoyed it.

Later that evening, I’m sitting on the couch talking with some friends, laughing and drinking, and I feel Noah stealing some glances from me sometimes, making me blush and I stare back whenever I have the confidence. Now he just smugly smiles a bit, leaning against the counter with his Ghostmask off again, gloves wrapped around his beer, and my mind already goes to the most unholiest things so quickly—how the cold of the leather gloves would feel around my throat for example—

I clear my throat and quickly shake the thoughts away, trying to concentrate on the conversation with my friends again, mentally slapping myself against the head. I'm the worst.

But then, I feel someone sitting next to me, and almost jump when it's Noah, looking at me with an amused expression and some glint in his eyes that I can’t quite unravel yet.

“Noah,” I smile, “hi.”

He lifts his beer at me in a greeting gesture before smirking and turning his full attention to me. “How are you enjoying the party, Little Vampire?” he asks, coming up with a nickname right there on the spot, making me both blush in amusement and flattery.

He then leans back into the couch with a slight grin, before taking a sip from his drink. “Nice to see you didn’t cover your neck tonight.”

I can’t help but chuckle at his little joking comment. “Well, could say the same about the people around me, right? Need something to feed from after all,” I joke back.

He amusingly laughs at my remark, for sure noticing the redness once again spreading across my cheeks by the way his eyes seem to gleam even more.

Noah then leans in a little, making me let out an uncontrollable nervous breath, his eyes lingering on my lips for a moment before he looks into my eyes again, a mischievous glint now in his own dark ones.

“But have you found someone to feed of off yet? You’ve been eyeing me all night I’ve noticed.”

My eyes widen a little as he says that, my heart racing up a little, and I sheepishly smile at him.

“Have I? Oh—“

I blink as I don't know how to get the words out of my throat for a moment, and then proceed to quickly shake my head as my blush keeps spreading on my face, answering his question. “I have not found someone yet to feed, no—“

A smirk plays on Noah's lips as he notices my reaction, deciding to take it one step further. “Well you know… since it’s my birthday, I can give you a gift…” he then whispers into my ear.

Goosebumps appear on my skin as heat spreads now almost everywhere in my body at this point, and I slightly gasp at the feeling of one of his leather gloves then sliding up on my thigh.

“Aren’t people supposed to give you a gift when its their birthday?” I then answer back, looking at him through my lashes, the feeling of him squeezing the flesh of my thigh as well already unraveling so much inside of me already.

He lets out a playful hum, letting his hand travel further up now to my hip. He leans even more forward, his dark brown eyes trained on my lips again first before looking back into my eyes.

Then to my surprise he brushes his lips past my ear, his breath grazing my skin, making me hold my own. “Well… my birthday wish from you is to give me what you want most.”

A shaky breath escapes from my with red, blood colored painted lips, and I slightly turn my head to his face so our noses slightly brush against each other, faces dangerously close, making me able to feel his soft breathing through his nose brushing against my face.

I decide its now or never, wanting to take this chance, wanting him.

“How about you help a helpless vampire out and be my victim for tonight?” I whisper back, smiling slightly.

A slight grin forms on Noah's face as he hears my request. Leaning back a little he locks eyes with me for a moment before standing up, holding out his hand. “Follow me.”

With both nerves and excitement I take his hand, letting him pull me along towards the staircase that leads up to our apartments bedrooms, my heart pounding in my chest as we walk up side by side.

My mind is already spinning with nerves, desire and excitement. As soon as we reach his bedroom, he closes it behind us once we are in, and when he places his Ghostface mask back on his face again my eyes slightly widen, and the arousal between my legs begins to spread. Oh, he knows what he’s doing.

Then, Noah grabs me and pins me against his door, his hands resting behind me on each side of my body. He tilts my head at him, the mask making him look somewhat scary and yet mysterious—mysterious enough for me to become more flustered than ever. His eyes wander down to my lips, seeing the need to press them against mine but he clearly wants the game to continue first, just a little bit longer—by sliding his knee up between my legs, resting between my thighs.

I whimper as he does that, heart racing even more, and I need to hold onto his biceps for support because of the heat already being spread between my thighs, making me light headed with desire—and of course his biceps feel hard and trained, just like they normally already look like, and it makes me ache for him even more.

Noah smirks at the feeling of me holding onto him. “Already so needy and wanting for me,” he says into my ear, his hands sliding down my sides, feeling the lace of my corset underneath his fingers. He presses up against me with his knee to gain a little bit more friction against my core, making me let out another gasp.

“Noah,” I can’t help but gasp out his name, making me flush a little.

He leans his face against my neck, slowly taking off his mask again to let his lips hovering over my skin, his breath grazing the area gently, before pressing a small peck to the skin. “I can only imagine the sounds I can get out of you tonight.”

His teeth tug at my earlobe, before moving down towards my jawline, placing another kiss there. I groan, then wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him even more against me, making me able to feel his excitement growing, and it makes everything inside of me flush and heat up, and the desire for him grow. The thought that I’m the one that makes him feel this needy, makes me feel even more worked up.

Noah's hips push against mine, his head now buried in my neck, kissing the skin, even teasingly biting the skin at various places, not hard enough to cause any real harm, but enough to cause red marks that’ll stay for a while.

“Aren’t I the vampire here though?” I can’t help but teasingly grin at that.

Pulling his face out from my neck he looks into my eyes, the corners of his lips pulling up into a smirk as I say that. “I think you’re forgetting that tonight is my birthday, not yours, little vampire, and I get to do what I want… and right now, all I want is you.” He leans in towards my face, his lips just inches away from mine—so close, yet so far.

“And this is only the beginning of your gift to me.”

My doe eyes widen as I look up to him, eager and desperate, and I still stubbornly lean to his neck despite his words, placing a few kisses before marking some bits of his skin. I feel him shiver underneath my touch, a low groan escaping his lips, making my heart beat even faster.

When I pull back with a smug smile, I say, “Vampires still need to be fed, birthday or not.”

He takes a small step back from me, his dark eyes raking over my body slowly, a smirk creeping on his face. “Take off the corset.”

The fast beating of my heart goes up to the pulse of my neck as he asks me that, a confirmation of where I hoped this night between us would go, and I quickly nod as I then take off the corset, leaving me in just my thin white blouse, revealing the outline of my chest, and a fire builds up in the pit of my stomach by the way he watches my every move.

Noah then takes a slow step towards me, placing his hands on my hips and pulling me close towards him, hips rubbing against mine again. I start to breathe heavily, hands trembling as I feel nervous yet excited.

Lifting my chin, he presses kisses to my jawline again, nipping at the skin here and there as well and it makes me softly moan, the other hand slowly moving up to my chest, as it goes underneath the fabric of my blouse. I enjoy the feeling of his warm, large hand there, making a ragged breath escape from my lips.

His fingers graze across my collarbone, feeling my skin underneath, and the touch is so light, almost like a feather is touching me. His lips trace up from my neck to my ear, nibbling on my earlobe gently again. Then, he takes a step back, my eyes locked with his, before he speaks.

“Get on the bed, now.”

I eagerly nod at him, walking towards his bed, sitting down at it and already taking and kicking off my own boots without him having to ask me to, since I’m getting desperate and needy for him by the minute—I’ve fantasized about a moment like this for embarrassingly too long, and now that it’s finally happening I want it now.

Noah then watches me lay down on his bed, eyes raking over my frame, taking in what was going to be his gift for tonight. He walks over to me before straddling my hips, taking his gloves off with his teeth before letting them fall onto the ground. The sight of him doing that makes my eyes nearly pop out, it being one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.

Leaning down, Noah places teasing kisses on my cheek, then jaw, and slowly moving down to my neck again, his hands working on unbuttoning my blouse. His lips kiss every little part of exposed skin down from my neck, to my collarbones and then down to my chest, making me whimper and shift my hips against the mattress in anticipation—and I already feel like I'm getting taken to cloud nine.

He lets his tongue run across my skin, tasting me as he unbuttons the last few buttons of my blouse, making me gasp. He pushes the fabric off my arms and down onto the floor, then pulling back, looking down and taking in the sight of my skin and exposed chest. He licks his lips as his hands glide up to my sides, caressing the soft skin.

“So, so gorgeous,” he whispers in the dark, almost more towards himself it seems, his eyes drifting back up to meet mine after.

It feels like I’m exploding with fuel and desire inside, being lit up with every touch and look of him, making my heart hammer inside of my chest from nerves but especially excitement. My hips start to grind against his a bit, making me able to press a little against his bulge, and I have to bite back a amused smile by that, as I feel myself drooling between my legs by the feeling at the same time.

A low groan escapes Noah's lips as he looks back down between the both of us, getting stimulated by my movements. His lips then find my jaw again, teeth scraping the skin before pulling back to look into my eyes. He gives me a dark, smug look before he stands up from the bed, his hands slowly taking off his robe and the long sleeved shirt he wears underneath, letting it slide down his body as it falls to the ground by his feet. “Tell me how much you want me, sweetheart, so I can give you everything and more.”

And Jesus fucking Christ—he’s a sight, a goddamn hot, tattooed and worked out sight as I let my eyes roam over his exposed chest, flushing madly by it

“I want you,” I whisper as my eyes go back to his own darkened ones again, “for so long. Even more… like this.”

His lips curve into a smile as he slowly steps back towards me again, moving his hands down to his pants, slowly unbuckling the belt while looking into my eyes that slightly widen in anticipation. “How long have you waited for this?”

“Too long to admit,” I mumble, my eyes going down to his belt. “It's embarrassing.”

Noah slides his pants down his legs along with his underwear, letting them fall to the floor as well before slowly climbing on the bed, hovering over me once again, making my heart rate rise madly. His hands slide down my body, down to my skirt, his fingers hooking into them as I continue to look at him.

“It’s okay, I have too. And I know how needy you are right now, sweetheart.” He kisses my jawline, hands slowly pulling my skirt down my body, leaving me in only my panties.

“You–really?” I stumble as I hear his words, and all the fire in me burns up again, making me need him so badly, and wanting him, craving him, more than ever before.

One of his hands caresses my thigh, feeling the soft skin underneath his lean fingers, before slowly gliding up to my covered center. He watches his hand as it moves slowly over my panties, his fingers grazing my core, applying a teasing but light pressure, making me squirm.

“Of course,” he says in response, a devilish grin on his face, eyes looking down at where his hand is touching, and God, it's another hot sight. His other hand goes to remove the rings he wears on his fingers, the chunky silver ones I've grown to love so much, and I get more needy for him by the minute, making my body tremble with eagerness.

I look down at our naked bodies, making me heavily flush again but also dampen with even more in anticipation. Once his rings have made their way onto the nightstand he leans down towards my ear again. His lips ghost over the skin of my neck, trailing down as he speaks, “Are you sure you’re ready to be mine?... To let me take you in every way possible? To make you completely mine?”

He nips at the flesh before pulling back a little to look into my eyes. I whimper desperately at his words, chest rising up and down heavily, my arms already wrapping around his neck.

“Yes,” I breathe out in response, my eyes then looking at his lips.

Noah's right hand cups my cheek, gently caressing the skin with his thumb, and then finally pressing a soft kiss to my lips—it’s slow, passionate, and full of desire. Soon, his tongue grazes my lower lip, teasingly asking for entrance which I instantly give him, before moving his other hand to my waist and starting to slide my panties down my legs, all while never breaking the kiss.

I moan deeply in our kiss, my legs already slowly opening for him in pure eagerness as he then throws my panties away once they are fully down. His tongue slips into my mouth, swirling with mine as he groans against my mouth, the taste of him sweet and heavenly.

Noah's hands then slide across my thighs, his teeth grazing my bottom lip as he pulls it back for a second to look at me, before leaning down and kissing me once more, and God, it kills me and makes my anticipation and need for him grow even more and more. His right hand slides up my thigh, his fingers feeling the warmth of my center before rubbing against it gently.

My back arches slightly, eyes squeezing shut by the pleasure, and my jaw drops as sounds of pleasure begin to escape me. Noah can't seem to help but moan into my mouth in response, it makes him feel how badly I need him. He breaks the kiss and moves down to my jawline, then slowly down to my neck, leaving a few bruising bites behind, and I know they'll show tomorrow when I get up.

My panting and moaning get heavier and heavier with the more pleasure he gives me, his movements teasing at first, but then speeding up—leaving me a trembling mess. I can feel myself getting close, and Noah is being able to know by my desperate sounds and the way I move underneath him.

His lips pull away from my neck again, and he slowly slides down my body, placing kisses against my skin as he goes, his lips coming to rest at my chest. His left hand moves up my side towards my arm, pinning it down against the bed, before doing the same with the other arm. And now he has me underneath him, completely at his mercy, making my heart speeding up even more, with lips parted as I look at him with anticipation, as I'm about to get closer and closer to the edge.

Noah continues to work his fingers against my core, lips kissing all the way down my chest and then towards the inside of my thigh, leaving a faint trail of marks behind as he goes. His teeth graze the skin while his dark, lustful eyes never leave mine.

“Please,” I then breathe out as his mouth goes closer to my center, “I need you there—”

He listens to my pleas as a grin forms across his face. “Such a needy thing you are,” he chuckles softly against my sensitive skin. His eyes look back up to mine before looking at my aching core, making me shift even more in need.

“But, I will give you what you desire,” he then hums. His tongue flicks out, teasingly licking a slow, but broad trace, making me sharply inhale.

”Fuck,” I heavily pant out, making my back arch even more. I feel him smirk as my hips buck against his mouth as he hears the sounds of me falling apart beneath him. The hand that was holding my arm down moves up towards my head, gently lacing his fingers into my hair before pulling it, and he looks up again at me.

“Be good and take it,” he then commands with a low voice, it being enough to make me moan out loud again.

“I’ll take it,” I pant in response, “fuck, I’ll take it all—”

Noah hums against my core, slightly vibrating against me, driving me crazy. He then looks up at me through his lashes, watching my face contort and twitch in pleasure. His left hand then moves to the desk next to his bed again, taking one of the gloves off it and sliding it on again, making my eyes widen. Oh god—he has definitely noticed what those gloves did to me the whole evening.

I see him having to hold back a grin at my reaction, confirming that. “Look at you baby, already looking wrecked,” he teases, his eyes and lips leaving my enter to look up at me, his gloved hand now moving down to my core, slowly rubbing me, and I gasp and squeeze my eyes shut at the feeling of the leather against me.

“Oh God Noah,” I choke out, feeling myself getting even closer to the edge, and his lips curve into a mischievous grin.

“And now look at you, begging me already,” he taunts after a dark, amused chuckle follows. “I’ll give you what you want, darling, but only if you say my name. That’s the only way you’ll get what you need.”

“Noah,” I desperately choke out, my voice sounding needy, practically shaking as I say his name, and he chuckles softly at how vulnerable and exposed I am right now. “I’m so close, please—“

“That’s my pretty thing,” Noah hums, his lips going back to my aching center, continuing to devour me with his tongue, and I let out the most desperate sounds, and soon enough I grab and pull his hair, hitting my edge, hard and with trembling legs he needs to hold with both his hands.

The sounds I'm making are almost loud enough for the others, and the realization makes my climax feel even more pleasurable and hot to me. Noah pulls away from my center, looking at me, taking in my dazed expression.

“What a pretty thing you are, y/n,” he praises me as he crawls over and hovers over me again.

I blush yet roll my eyes at the same time, chuckling lightly. “Yeah yeah,” I playfully respond as I swat his chest, and he joins my laughter.

“Now roll over for me, and make me wish you an even better happy birthday.”

[saintescuderia]

STUCK ON THE PUZZLE // DR3

(a pancakes! one-shot)

AKA - how daniel's famed 2018 monaco win was the beginning of the end

series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)

A/N: hi there. apologies for being mia. lot of life changes. here's something i started pre-hiatus. also shout out to dr3, mans had such an impact on my life. the prince who would've been king. words: 9.6k (strap yourself in kids) warnings: angst. like a whole lot. breakup. bit of cheating. etc. (was cathartic to write tbh)

You loved Daniel. 

You had loved Daniel with your whole being. 

Because Daniel was not someone to take half-heartedly. People either loved him or hated him - there was no in between. And when you first properly met Daniel, sticking chopsticks under the gums of his mouth to make a young Max Verstappen laugh after a bad race, you found your mouth falling open at the sight of such person. 

“Hi! Nice to meet you. I’m Daniel!” He had smiled with his whole face, eyes crinkling even all those years ago when the sun had yet made its mark on his face. A younger, fresh-faced Daniel still smiled with his whole being. Seeing Daniel smile made it feel as if the sun had decided to stop shining on the world - and, instead, focus all its rays onto you. A singular sort of warmth filled you from head to toe as you met the famous Red Bull driver who somehow made everything around him a few shades lighter, warmer, more yellow. 

Love. 

You fell in the category of people that loved Daniel Ricciardo. 

To say that you fell in love then and there would be an insult for the love that steadily grew within you for the beautiful boy who lit up your entire world. Because he did. Every time you walked into a room and found him there, you found yourself able to breathe easier. It was as if you finally could gasp at air, unaware you had been holding your breath until then, until you saw him.

When you would later talk to your therapist about it all, you would compare to when you were younger and had really bad asthma. 

“Daniel was like my puffer. I could breath easier around him.” You had said. “Now it just feels like I’m drowning again.” 

The first time you had properly hung out with Daniel, it was because of Max. Your best friend had dragged you to some campfire that Daniel was having with a bunch of his friends. You felt awkward and out of place since Daniel had invited Max - not you. Still, Max was adamant you come. At the very least, you could keep each other company. Or so Max had argued by way of finally convincing you.

And so you followed Max through the nice looking beach house Daniel had rented out. It was even more picturesque with the sun that was just about to set. Your grip on the two cases of beer you had brought with you now becoming a lifeline as the social anxiety set in. 

Walking closer, you heard music. Soft strums of a guitar playing. It was interrupted by a loud round of raucous laughter. You took a deep breath. 

Daniel was playing the guitar. He was laughing. And you finally exhaled. 

God, he looked beautiful. There was no other way to describe him.

Your crush aside, even a blind man had to admit it. The whole scene of him was beautiful. To this day, you could paint the picture clear as ever. The black and white striped Stüssy shirt, the bright pink board shorts and the bare feet. Tattoos spotted all over his body.

He was sitting right in the middle of everyone, a half drunk corona light - lime, not lemon - pushed in the neck of the beer bottle by his tattooed thigh. The flickering lights of the dancing flames shining on his tanned skin as the sun continued its slow decent to the horizon behind him.

“Ah, here they are!” Daniel said, putting the guitar away as he spotted you and Max. His smile grew and he stood up to dap Max. You, however, were awkward as fuck. You gave a general wave to everyone else, the boys nodding or holding up their beer in greeting. You suddenly realised how there were all guys here and felt even more out of place. 

But then Daniel turned to look at you. 

“Uh, hey. I brought more beer.” You immediately said because you weren’t sure what else to say.

“Oh, thank you! Legend!” Daniel said, taking them from you and setting them down. He then turned to give you a hug and you found yourself holding back. His arm went right around you and you wanted nothing more than to that just melt into him. Did everyone find him this cuddly?

“Did you find the place alright?” 

It took you a second to realise he was asking you, and not Max. Daniel’s eyes were on you. His big brown eyes and the wide smile, teeth and all. On you.

“Uh, yeah. Actually no.” You said, realising you were just on auto pilot and needed to snap out of the nerves. “Max wouldn’t listen to my directions.”

“Tsk, Maxie. You need to listen to her. Look what listening to her got you.” Daniel said to the boy behind you who was now sat, holding a beer. Max had recently been upgraded from Torro Rosso to Red Bull and, as such, now went to social events like Daniel Ricciardo's private hang outs.

Though why Max made you come with him was beyond you. 

“You’re lucky to have a trainer like this one, mate.” 

You had to steel yourself from that compliments Daniel was giving you. You watched him open the esky and dump the beers you had bought into it. He then pulled a cold bottle out and opened it to shove a lime into the neck. Daniel then turned to you, hand slightly outstretched. “I’m gonna guess beer is okay since you brought more?”

“Yeah, no worries.” You said even though you were trying to cut and technically weren't supposed to drink. It was one of the many reasons you thought it not fitting to come but Max had just dismissed a hand anyway.

You watched Daniel use a keychain to open the bottle lid and felt the need to also explain, “Max kept saying I should come but I didn't realise it would be all guys and - ” You were interrupted as Daniel handed you the drink. “- oh, thank you.”

“Don’t worry. I wanted you to come. I told Max to bring you.”

“You… oh.” You found yourself unable to form a response at that. Your body did that for you. Your cheeks warming up with the blush that set in. 

“Yeah. You’re cool. And we always have fun so it’s nice to shoot the shit outside of the garage and all the cameras of the Paddock.” Daniel said. “But, uh yeah my bad. I hope you don’t mind us guys. All these guys are lame and don’t have any girlfriends.” He raised his voice, aiming the last part at his friends who were all sitting just to the side. 

One of his friends flipped him off. “Oi mate, neither do you!”

“Yet.” Another said quietly, taking a sip of his beer as he did so. The friend beside him laughed. You found yourself blushing even more and you wanted to meet Max’s eyes - but the idiot was too busy looking up at the sky. 

Fuck's sake, Verstappen.

“Anyway, listen since we finally have a girl here you can give us advice.” One of the boys called out as you came to sit down. You ignored how Daniel didn’t go back to where he was sitting before, opting to sit next to you on a log that was definitely too small for two people. “So our mate Tommy here is slowly falling into the friend-zone. Tell him what he needs to do.” 

And so the night passed where you hung out with Daniel Ricciardo and his friends. The sensitive soul, Tommy, who was in love with his neighbour. The trainer Blake who had known Daniel since they were both three years old - and it showed in how many inside jokes they had. The cousin Corey, who worked as a teacher and was a serious lightweight. Then, of course, there was Max. You hadn’t realised how close Daniel and Max had gotten but seeing them outside of racing suits put a new perspective on their friendship with how integrated Max was with the rest of Daniel’s friends.

It all made the imposter syndrome deepen. Even though the boys included you in the jokes and explained the context behind all their stories, you couldn’t get it out of your head. Why were you here exactly?

And so on the drive back home, you grilled Max. Incessantly.

“Daniel called me said if you would be down. I said yes.” Max explained. “Maybe it was a mistake. Were you that uncomfortable?”

“Yes. No. They were all guys.” Your response was pathetic at best. That reason wasn’t justification enough. Most of your social circles lay in cars and sports. As such, Max gave you an odd look and you shook your head. The universe, as if to prove the point, Charles’ name came up on the car screen as your phone started buzzing. 

You pressed decline and huffed. Max gave you another suspicious look. “I’ll call him later. I just — “

“What?”

“I like Daniel!” You finally snapped, saying It. “Alright, Max. I like him. And it’s fucking awkward. I can’t hang out with him like I would with you and Charles and the whole thing is fucking messing with me. We work together, he’s your teammate. More than that, he's Daniel fucking Ricciardo.” You finished with a huff. You ran a hand over your face and took another breath. “So next time he asks you just say no."

“Why?” Max asked calmly, not commenting about your abrupt mental break down. Or even the fact that you had just admitted you liked his teammate. 

“Did you not hear me?”

“I heard you. I don’t agree with you. At least, not for those reasons.” Max said. “You and Daniel are cut from the same cloth. I can see it happening. He might need to grow up a little but…” Max pursed his lips. “It’s you and Daniel.”

“Well there's the big thing about him not ever liking me back.” The tone of retort was a harsh but Max ignored it. 

“Who says he doesn’t?” Max said with a shrug and a smile. “I mean, he asked me to bring you there. Daniel never brings just anyone to those things."

You were silent, pressing your lips together. You couldn’t — Daniel was — what? Daniel didn’t like you. Daniel was just a nice guy. That was — no. You couldn’t bring yourself to accept that fact. You had been crushing on Daniel for how long now? From before you even started working at Torro Rosso and saw a charming Australian grinning widely on the podium beside Seb. You’d always noticed Daniel. 

It was Daniel. 

Daniel remembers all too well the first time he really noticed you.

You had been walking by yourself in the Paddock. It had been a windy day and your hair, curls and all, were blowing from the wind. Music had been playing from the headphones Daniel had kept over his ears during the trip to Paddock.

Now, as he watched you, two things happened simultaneously.

Alex Turner’s voice fills his ears with the lyric: “I’m not the kind of fool whose gonna sit and sing to you about stars, girl.”

His brain buzzes with a sole thought passing through his mind: 'God, she’s beautiful.' 

He blinked and pulled down his headphones. Someone called out your name and you turned to look and see that new Torro Rosso kid bounding up to you. Daniel pulled his headphones back up and shook his head. You were in the uniform so he could easily find you later and talk to you but - nah. What would that achieve? If he was going to approach you, it wasn’t to just be mates. He would want your number. He would want - what? A quick fuck? That wasn't uncommon in the Paddock but that could also get messy if you worked in Red Bull's junior team. He didn't know what you'd be like.

All he knew was that you were beautiful.

Maybe that’s why Daniel didn’t know how to act around you. He was nice, perfectly polite. He would joke around - as he did with everyone. But inside he considered the bonus points for every time his jokes brought you to tears. Because he was always secretly waiting to see if you would laugh or not. 

Daniel joined you and Max for track walks, he got you a coffee every so often, sprayed the champagne directly at you when he won. Then he give you a big hug as everyone rushed to congratulate him. And he would count the seconds where your arm was around him. He basked in that. He liked hugging you. 

But he never asked for your number. He didn’t hit follow when he finally found your Instagram. Which was surprising considering how close you two seemed, how well he got along with you and enjoyed your company. 

“Ah, my phone died. Daniel can you call Y/N? And tell her to bring Max with her.” Christian said, sighing at his dead phone that he set on the table. You and Max were late for a briefing meeting. 

“Oh, I don’t have her number.” Daniel said. Some people looked at him. Even Christian Horner frowned in surprise. 

“What? Oh, uh. Okay. Angela can you try?”

“Sure thing.” 

Daniel wasn’t even sure how he got your number. Probably needing to call you for something and Max gave him the number. Or it very well could’ve been Christian giving it to him. Either way, your name was saved in his phone without much intention.

Because he didn’t have any. He couldn’t. 

As always, there was just that something missing. He had something missing.

But he liked spending time with you. He liked seeing you rip into Max for not following the routine you’d planned for him. He liked seeing you talk soccer so enthusiastically with Guenther Steiner or that Spanish Toro Rosso kid. He liked how nice you were to hospitality workers and kids. He liked how knew cars and even managed to fix the temperamental engine in his own car once or twice. He liked that you never got starstruck and were honest and straightforward and that the gym was your safe spot. He liked how you wore your hair with a bandana — even if meant you often got in trouble with Christian for the 'creative liberties' you took with the Red Bull uniform. And he really liked seeing you in a hoodie. He knew you often wore them outside F1. 

All your interactions had been through Formula 1. Daniel thought about it for five seconds before dropping a message in the group chat during the winter break. 

Catch up in the beach villa. 

Then he dialled Max’s number. “Hey Max! Are you free this weekend? We’re planning on having a bonfire, you should come.” Then Daniel paused and added, “And, hey, bring Y/N with you.”

It was only a few weeks later that Max finally just asked him the question.

“Why don’t you just date her?” Max said as Daniel watched you talk to that Spanish junior, Carlos Sainz, about some soccer team you both liked. Daniel knew Max’s old teammate had a thing for you but Daniel wasn’t worried. Carlos would’ve made a move by now if he had the balls. Then again, Max’s question pointed out the very same thing about him. 

“What?” Daniel asked and then grinned when Max gave him a pointed look. “Ah, Maxie. You’re too young to understand love.”

“I understand that Charles is debuting soon.”

“And?” Daniel asked, puffing his chest. He knew briefly of your connection to another driver, some rich Monaco guy called Charles Leclerc. But you’d always spoken of him like he was your brother. You referred to him as ‘bro.’ From how he understood it, Charles was to you like Blake was to him. Best friends that grew up together. 

Evidently not, according to Max. “And I have seen the way Charles looks at her.”

“Yeah?” Daniel said, staring at how Max’s race engineer, GP, called you over and Carlos watched you walk off. Did you not notice this? Carlos was literally all over you. 

“Yeah. It’s similar to how you look at her.” Max said with a huff. Daniel considered this and suddenly looked away from Carlos to stare at his own two feet - and the fancy sneakers you had bought him.

“Look, you like her, yes?” Daniel looked up at Max who was watching him, expectant. He nodded. “So what’s the issue? I said it before - you both cut from the same cloth. And I say that when her and Charles grew up together. You and her have something… you’re the same.” 

You reappeared with GP beside you, papers in hand that he was clearly reading aloud to you as he gestured to Max’s car ahead of the upcoming race in Germany. You were nodding but then looked up and caught both him and Max looking at you. You smiled widely at them, at him. 

From outside the garage, the wind blew, the papers and your hair rustling.

“I’m not the kind of fool whose gonna sit and sing to you about stars, girl…

Daniel stared at you. He liked you. He really, really liked you. And Max had a point. 

… But last night I looked up into the dark half of the blue. And they'd gone backwards.”

“Alright, deal.” Daniel said, looking at Max. “If we win today, I’ll make a move.” 

“Daniel said that he told Max, ‘If we win today, I’ll make a move.’” You said, looking at the young woman with the notebook in the chair in front of you, “He always liked to leave things to chance and stuff. But, he didn’t win. He came second. Maybe that’s why it failed. Bad luck because he didn’t actually win.” You shifted in your seat, the used tissue in your hands half ripped to shreds. 

“Is it not considered a win if they are on the podium?” Your therapist asked, not very aware of the ins and outs of Formula 1. 

“No, only if you come first.” You explained. “Then it’s a win. In Hockenheimring, Lewis won. Daniel came second and Max was third.” 

Louise, your helpful therapist, jumped in. “But Daniel did say we. So I don't think it mattered much who was first or not."

“So then why would he start something if…” You stopped and found the lump in your throat growing again. You looked down at the tissue that was too ripped up to be of much use. Even with your eyes blurring, you still saw Louise push the tissue box over to you. 

“I think that’s the current problem. It’s not very helpful in your state to go down these rabbit holes of if thinking. Because then we can start hypothesising this and that and you’ll fall into more downward spirals.” Louise said. “Any time a thought begins with ‘if’ I want you to try and practice what we said before about curbing those thoughts.”

If. 

It was something you thought about a lot. 

If, in late July 2016, at the Hockenheimring, Daniel and Max didn’t get on the podium. What would’ve happened then? Would you have still have had the tears in your eyes, feeling like you literally burst from happiness? Would you have stared up at Max filled with love and fondness for the boy who was starting to break through all his past hurt and make it. Seeing Max’s hard work finally pay off and placing on the podium had set you off. 

And he was on the podium alongside Daniel. 

Daniel who had somehow wormed his way deeper and deeper into your heart with every passing day. Christian Horner had even waived the family exception of your contract for Daniel because there was no way he couldn’t. You and Daniel were attached at the hip - even beyond the scope of you training his teammate. 

He had starting joining you in your personal workouts - and now was your workout buddy. He had built up a habit of always asking whoever was sat next to you on the plane to switch. To the point that just last weekend Taylor, a nice PR lady, saw Daniel walk in and immediately started unbuckling her seatbelt to move for him. 

Not Max - him. 

You went for coffee runs during your break with him, not Max. You complained about your day to him, not Max. You wore his DR3 merch, not Max’s. And even though Max was yet to release any of his own branded merch, there was no denying it. 

You fell asleep to Daniel’s voice, not Max’s, sounding through your phone after your call duration ticked over the 2:00:00 mark. 

There was always the nagging thought, though. What are we? Where are we going? Daniel had made it clear many times before that he wasn’t looking for a serious relationship, not at all thinking himself mature for those responsibilities. 

But then he would send you pictures of him with his nieces and nephews. But then you would spend two hours on the phone even after being around each other all day. But then he would fall asleep on your shoulder half way through the movie - and you didn’t have the heart to get him to move. And so you slept beside him. 

You had grown up with the Leclerc boys, all of whom you were super close with. And if you got married tomorrow, you would probably get Max to be your Man of Honour. Being friends with boys was not exactly knew to you. 

With Daniel, it was different. From the very first bonfire, you knew it was different. Hanging out with him was different. You did and said things you didn’t share with just anyone. 

You shared your thoughts, your dreams. You told him how your missed your father and still hated your mother. You told him about the bullying. You told him about the feeling of hollowness you sometimes felt - and the fear that it would never go away. 

“You… you actually make it go away. I never feel it when I’m around you.”

“Then I just need to always be around you, huh.”

Daniel had come 2nd and Max 3rd. You still congratulated Lewis’ 1st place but you were more excited to see your boys and celebrate accordingly. You couldn’t contain yourself seeing them spray the champagne. Your phone was out, snapping as many pictures as possible. In that moment, you felt pure joy. Looking up at them, at your boys, you wanted the moment to never end. 

Daniel then leaned into Max and whispered something. He pointed down, down at you. Max followed his hand and suddenly both the Red Bull drivers were looking at you and spraying their champagne directly at you. The people around you cheered and your name was called out amongst all the ruckus of the celebrations. 

Everything after that race passed by as a blur. You couldn’t even tell Louise how it happened. The boys had to go to the cooldown room and then the media with the post-race briefing. However, in amidst all of that, you managed to see Daniel. 

Still in his race suit, the top half hanging off his hips and his entire body and hair drenched in sweat. Your face lit up seeing him walk towards you. 

“Hey, there you are! Wait, aren’t you supposed to be in media? Where’s Max — “

Daniel didn’t even say anything. He just grabbed you and wrapped his arms around you to press his lips against yours. When he eventually pulled back to rest his head on yours, he said something that set you off. 

“Okay, what now?”

You should’ve known. You really, really should’ve known back then. It wasn’t even the wishful if thinking. You just should’ve seen it coming when he was asking you what the next move was. 

But back then, you were too dumb to know better. Back then, you were still trying to process the kiss, let alone his words. Back then, all you wanted to do was kiss him again. 

And so you did. 

Being with Daniel reminded you of one key factor - you either loved or hated him. You couldn’t be indifferent to the guy. He was not to be taken lightly. And much like he was not to be taken light, he also himself did not take things lightly. 

When he laughed, Daniel laughed with his whole body. 

When he cried, Daniel let the sobs wreck through his whole entire being. 

No one saw that, though. Daniel never let anyone get close to that side of him. You had come close, but he always still held you at arms length. Even in the peak of everything, when the sun was shining and the flowers smelt sweet and you two were in the utter bliss of the honeymoon period… he always had a part of him that he didn’t let anyone get to. Not even you. 

You had tried. Many times. But he wouldn’t. 

He would just smile, shake his head and say he was “wired that way.” Then he would shut you off and you would be left to try and pick up the pieces until the door slowly fell ajar once more. 

Because you loved Daniel. You loved Daniel with your whole being. And if all he could give you were these pieces… then surely it would be enough? You loved him, and Daniel loved you. 

He loved you in how he arrived to work every day with your coffee order “extra hot so it’s still nice and warm for you.” He loved you in how he spent the time every night doing your rehab with you after the foot injury. He loved you in the goofy selfies he sneakily took on your phone for you to later find, in the hoodies he bought as “joint custody for me and you.” He loved you in the lyrics he would randomly text you of songs he thought you might like or that reminded him of you.  

He also loved you in how he was always driving you anywhere and everywhere. In the three years you were with Daniel, you probably needed your license once. And that was for the time you had to pick him up from the airport - flowers and sign abandoned on the floor when you saw him walk through the gate and you rushed and jumped into his arms.

He loved you in all of this. He just never said the words to you. 

But that was fine because you still had him. You had the Daniel who ran on the treadmill beside you, who stopped by Max’s side of the garage to give you a hug and a coffee, who cracked jokes when you were stressed and made you feel seen. Any time you felt yourself floating away, Daniel was right there to ground you, the asthma puffer to make you smile and breathe.

So, for a while, you managed to live in bliss. 

Even with all teammate drama, it worked. Somehow. Sometimes you needed to step in between the two highly competitive men and remind them of how they were friends. Occasionally you might use the ‘it’s hurting me’ card which wasn’t the biggest lie. Max was like a brother to you and Daniel - Daniel made you start thinking about guest lists and buying property. The entirety of 2016 and 2017 was marked with such joy from the fact that you had your best-friend and boyfriend always beside you. 

The late night car rides where you and Daniel argued about music. Or the late night Fifa championships where you and Max argued about football. Or, your personal favourite, the early morning meetings where you all three took the piss with an exasperated Christian Horner.

In short, you felt yourself finally making a family for yourself. This wasn’t yo, an added extension of the Leclerc family - this was you and what you had built for yourself.

In fact, you were starting to feel that your world and Daniel’s were becoming all the more closer. Tommy called you every so often for girl advice, Blake and you sending each other gym memes and Corey needing your help to buy Daniel a birthday present. It seemed like the years of loneliness was starting to pay off and God was finally giving you what you had spent so long wishing for. 

Of course, nothing stays the same. The one certainty about life is that everything changes. 

It happened during the Hungary Grand Prix. You had gotten a call from Pascale about a family friend’s upcoming wedding. You had received the invitation from the bride herself not too long after that in a group chat with you, her fiancé and Charles. You four had all gone to school together anyway. 

Her wedding was just over a year away but she wanted to know RSVP’s ASAP because it was happening Monaco and she needed to plan around the Grand Prix. Such was life. 

Not thinking much about it, you told Daniel.

“Oh, yeah sure. May - wait, that’s like… next year?” He said, pausing what he was doing on his phone to stare at you, confused. 

“Yeah. She needs to know responses because I think she’s planning to have it close to the Grand Prix so the venue needs numbers now.” You explained. “But it’ll be nice since you’ll be there anyway and you can finally meet Charles and the Leclercs properly. I can show you where I grew up and - “

“Uh, I mean. Babe, that’s kind of far away.” Your enthusiasm slowly died seeing the tells of Daniel slipping away slightly. He brought his hood up and went back to his phone. 

“Ah… yeah.” You said. For some reason, that feeling was coming back. Panic. Stress. Unease. You tried to play it off. “I can… go with Charles, if you don’t think you can make it.” 

“No. Fuck that I’m your… Charles can - no.” Daniel shook his head. “Look can we just…” He let out an exhale and sat on the hotel bed and pulled up a pillow behind him. “What do you wanna do for dinner?”

“I - “ You tried to think of answer but food was the furthest thing on your mind. You looked down at your phone and Charles’ response to the save the date chat. 

Felicitations ! Of course I will be there with my family !

You knew you had to respond but hated that you couldn’t send your own message with the same level of surety. Will you be there? And with Daniel? The bride was asking how many plus ons to pass the number of heads to the venue. Charles had made it clear. You - not so much. 

“I need to know Daniel.” You said, feeling a bit fed up of not being able to be sure of things with Daniel. “She’s asking me for numbers. Do I put you down or not?”

Daniel let out of very heavy sigh. "Does this really matter right now?"

“Yes it does.” You stuck to your gun. “I mean, what’s the problem? That it’s in a years time?”

“I’m not having this conversation.” He immediately dismissed and went to fluff the pillow, hitting it with a little too much force. 

“Well I want to have it. What’s the problem?” You asked, coming round to stand in front of where he was sitting. “You literally couldn’t even say it before.”

“Say what?”

“Boyfriend. When I said I can go with Charles you said ‘No, fuck that I’m... ’ and then trailed off. Like you always do.”

“I don’t always trail off.”

“Yes, you do! I mean, we’ve been together for how many months and we’ve never even had the conversation about it being official.”

“Are you being serious right now?” Daniel said with a dry laugh. “Seriously? Are we fourteen and kissing in a tree also?”

You frowned and felt the hurt wash over you. It was one thing for him to not understand but to make a joke about it. You clenched your hands into fists, the nails digging into your palms. “Daniel.” You said, trying to be calm. “It feels, to me, like you’re scared to fucking commit.”

“Oh for fuck's sake, babe! What? Because I don’t know if I can make it to a fucking wedding in a year!” Daniel yelled back. He then pushed himself off the bed. “Fuck this, I’m going out.”

“Daniel! We’re talking.”

“Yeah? I’m done talking.” 

The door slammed on his way out. Daniel didn’t come back to the hotel room. Around 3am you texted Max to see if Daniel had gone there instead. 

No, he’s not with me.  Are you okay? Did something happen?

You didn’t respond. You just continued to cry in the pillows of the too large hotel bed. They still smelled like him. 

Max swore it was not because of you. 

But then you saw how cold he’d been to Daniel all weekend. But then you saw the crash on the opening lap.

Max cared about you, and seeing you cry about Daniel pissed him off. 

You heard Daniel swearing on the radio as he spun out of the race. Thankfully, he recovered to 6th, his original starting position behind Max, who also originally started 5th. All in all, it could’ve been much worse. Still, everyone in the garage was fuming. A few members gave you the side eye, knowing your relationship between the two of them. You couldn’t even be mad at the “trouble in paradise” comments because, well, they were true.

You went to Daniel’s driver room and let yourself in. 

“I said don’t bother me for — oh.”

“Hi.” You said, closing the door behind you. You went to him and kneeled down on the ground to bring yourself eye level to him. 

“Shouldn’t you be with your driver?” He asked, not meeting your eyes. 

You took a breath, ignoring it and letting him just let it out. Instead, you forced a smile on your face and look at him with gentle eyes. “I’m with my boyfriend.”

“I can’t say that word, remember?” His voice was sardonic and you rolled your eyes. 

"Can we stop it with the dumb shit?" You said and lifted a hand to his face. "None of that matters right now."

"I thought it did."

"Daniel." You exhaled. "Where do I go home to?"

"What?" He frowned and gave you a confused look that bordered on annoyance. You ignored it and repeated your question.

"Home. Where is it?"

He frowned. "Fucking Monaco? I don't know."

"True. I go to Monaco and dump my bags at your doorway, kick off my shoes by your mat and raid your fridge. Every track, I leave Max's garage and go to your hotel room. You're home. That's all the matters."

Daniel's face changed at your words. Gone were the tells of anger and now you saw something that hurt a little more - the sadness. Daniel being sad felt unnatural. To see the happy-go-lucky boy do anything but smile felt wrong.

"This weekend has been a shit run. Not just on track. But don't think that means I'm not still by you."

Daniel's eyes welled. He put a hand over yours. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

You weren't sure what he was sorry for. So you ignored it. And you smiled at him. "It's okay. I'm here. And I love you."

He didn't say it back. But he hugged you. And for that moment, it was enough.

After a while, a new pattern emerged between you two. 

You and Daniel would be good. In fact, you would get closer and closer. He would get a tattoo of something that symbolised you. You would change your emergency contact to him. You two would get so close in fact that you would continue to be deluded that everything was fine and that you were both on the same page of where you would both heading. 

Then something like your friend's wedding would happen. 

Daniel doesn’t politely reject the advances of the model hitting on him at some PR event. Or he ignores you for most of said PR event. He goes on a three day fishing trip without telling you about it. He gets mad that you planned a week in Hawaii for summer break without telling him.

He doesn’t say I love you back. 

Not that he ever did. It was the common recurrence. But sometimes his lack of response to the three words hurt you more than others. Especially because you would say them hoping that that time would be enough for him to say it. Because you needed to hear him say it. Just once. 

Maybe if he said it, you would’ve been fine. If he said it, then you wouldn’t feel the need to say it less. If he said it, you wouldn’t get hurt when he declined moving in together, when he made up an excuse as to why he couldn't go for dinner with Pascale and the Leclercs.

If he said it, you wouldn’t get mad when he left you at a party to hang out with Heidi Klum or some other Victoria Secret model. If he said it, you wouldn’t find yourself stressing between the hours of 11pm to 3am when he didn’t answer his phone and no one seemed to know where he was. 

You and Daniel would be good, great even. 

Then someone would happen that made you need to bring up the future, the reality of you and him. 

Daniel would then freak out and close himself off. This would end up in an argument. 

And then he would disappear and leave you for the night. Maybe a whole day if it was really bad. 

But he would come home and you would make up and things would seem better, stronger even, as you both got closer. He would get another tattoo, burn you an actual CD mix of songs and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. 

Looking back, that should’ve been the part that made you end it. The toxic cycle you had found yourself in with Daniel was not helping anyone. It was dangerous and damaging and even Max was getting sick of it. “I said you were both cut from the same cloth but I also said Daniel needed to grow up a little bit.” 

Because Daniel wasn’t ready to stop having fun. That fact never became more apparent than it did when it came to the 2018 Monaco Grand Prix. 

And if Max was starting to get tired of you and Daniel, then Charles was beyond over it. 

“Where’s Daniel?” Charles blue/green eyes shone in the sun as he helped unhaul your bags from the taxi. 

“He’s coming later. Apparently, there’s a yacht party. Don’t tell your mum. Pascale invited him to breakfast and I feel bad.” Charles opened his mouth and you gave him a look. “It’s impolite, I know. We just had a fight and I don’t feel like talking about it.”

“A fight about what?” Charles asked, rolling your bags into the Monaco home you and him had grown up in. And it was this very home that you and Daniel had argued about. 

You saw Monaco as a way to be at home with your family - to get your yearly haircut (yes, yearly) from Pascale and visit Hervé’s grave. But it was also time for you and Charles to hang out the house the two of your grew up in. To play Mario Kart with Arthur, workout with Lorenzo or cook dinner with Pascale. You liked to be at home with your family and take it slow. 

Whereas Daniel didn’t see Monaco as this. Instead, he was hitting up every party, every club. He was sleeping on yachts and drinking his weight in mimosas for breakfast. At first, you had accepted it, thinking that maybe that was just the Formula 1 driver life style. 

But Max never did this. And Charles had invited Lando, George and Alex over to play video games and have lunch. A lunch that was likely going to be cooked by you and Pascale. They weren’t going out clubbing or anything. And you saw Carlos Sainz up bright and early every morning when you tapped in at 6am to go the local gym.

No, it was just Daniel being Daniel who wanted to follow any sounds of heavy bass, laughter or glass clinking. Sure, he wasn’t the only person in F1 who did this - quite a few tended to - but you had hoped that now he was with you that he could give Monaco a chance to be a place of calm, a place for family. Weren't you guys growing up and sharing your lives together? Wouldn't that mean he saw Monaco for what it meant to you, and not what he always knew it to be; a hunting ground for a good party.

It didn't help that Charles was always feeding into these thoughts. Like right now when he sighed deeply and went on to say. “The boys are coming at midday.” He said, seeing your lack of response as Charles set your stuff down in the spare room that was, really, just your room. “You’re more than welcome to join.” 

“I might take a nap.” You said, looking at the bed. “Or go for a run.”

“I think Lorenzo was going to go for one.” Charles said. 

“Actually I might go by myself.” You went to unzip the bag but Charles’ hand came over to yours. You looked up at him and Charles quietly used your hand to pull you into him. He wrapped his arms around you and you tucked your head in between his shoulder and neck. 

Then, you started to cry. 

Daniel was driving beautifully.

He finished first in all three practice sessions. Come qualifying, he was one with the car and it would not at all be a surprise to anyone if he got pole position. 

Max was fairing much worse. He had crashed in FP3 and the mechanics had been unable to fix it for ready for qualifying. You knew seeing Daniel do well was only adding salt to the wound and after doing all you could, felt it best to leave Max alone in his room for now. Besides, you needed to see where Daniel finished in Qualifying. 

“Excuse me, where is the VIP section?”

“Oh, who are you?”

“Monica Richelli. I’m a friend of Daniel Ricciardo’s.” 

It was hearing his name that had you turning to look. There in front of you was perhaps one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen. And considering your time in Formula 1 and the constant parade of models back and forth, that was saying something.

However, as your time in Formula 1 had taught you, the constant parade of models back and forth was usually for one thing. Models were never just friends of someone. Everyone knew. You knew. The guest pass, the way she smiled coyly, the fact that this was Monaco.

You wanted to throw up.

Qualifying suddenly became background noise. The rest of the time in the garage you stood there unable to focus on anything else. Monica. Her name was Monica. She has beautiful blonde hair. She has great posture. You stared at the effortless way she stared at the screens with the headphones on, as if that in itself was a posed picture for a brand. Her waist was thinner than anything you could ever train yourself to get. Her fingers were long and delicate and covered with pretty gold rings. She was so pretty. You wanted to cry. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to scream and die and get rid of this feeling because why did Daniel invite some pretty girl to the Monaco Grand Prix?

Daniel got pole position. Unsurprisingly. You ignored the fact that you were not the first person he celebrated with. We need to be discrete. We've always needed to be discrete.

You ignored the way he gave her a big hug, the way Monica wrapped his arms around your boyfriend. You shook your head. Many girls had thrown themselves at Daniel. Horner had given you many apologetic looks over the years when a sponsor's daughter got too comfortable with your boyfriend and Christian nor Daniel could do much since, well, they were a sponsor's daughter.

This was just like all those times. Daniel is excited and everything's fine.

That thought became a bit more concrete in your mind when Daniel finally did come up to you. Away from the cameras, he lifted you up in his arms and screamed.

"Fucking pole baby!"

The energy had you bursting out into laughter. He pressed kisses all over your face and you felt all your anxiety melt away. This was Daniel. Your Daniel. He loved you.

Tucked away in his Driver's Room, you two could finally be. You and him. No one else. Seeing him like this, you forced all the doubts and worries of earlier out of your mind. He's a driver and he's currently competing against Max right now. Daniel's had a lot on his mind and you could excuse all the funny behaviour as Monaco stress.

"I'm proud of you." You said, grinning wide. Seeing him so happy, you could excuse it all. This... this was worth it.

"Man, I feel good. I'm feeling so good." He said, taking off his helmet. "I'm going to win this. I feel it."

"I know you will." You smiled, letting him hand you his helmet. "Just remember to keep that part in portier - "

"Daniel?"

You both turned to see a pretty head of hair peeking her head in his doorway. Your eyes grew seeing Monica there. Your stomach dropped and whatever reprieve you had felt suddenly was ripped apart as that feeling came right back.

"Oh hey Mon." He grinned. "Good to see you."

The growing ache in your chest hurt just that little bit more hearing the nickname. Mon.

"I hope I'm not interrupting." She said smiling, letting herself in through the door. Your mouth fell open at the familiarity and, well, audacity. "I just wanted to congratulate you on pole. I hear that's the secret to winning in Monaco."

"Yeah it is." Daniel laughed. Ever so cheerful, ever so happy, ever so easy-going. Completely different to how you were feeling inside.

"Oh, sorry. Is this your assistant?" Mon's eyes finally fell to you.

For a second, all the anxiety was replaced with white hot anger at the fucking gall of this bitch. "Excuse the fuck outta me - "

Daniel said your name. You stopped and looked at him. He didn't meet your eyes. Enraged, you forced yourself to bite your tongue.

"This is Max's trainer. She was just helping me out since he DNF'ed. Shall I meet you outside?"

"Yes, that sounds lovely." Mon's eyes darted to you once more before she smiled up at Daniel then she left the room.

He just got pole in Monaco. He just got pole in Monaco. He just got pole in Monaco. He just got pole in Mon -

"Who the fuck is she Daniel?"

You couldn't help yourself.

"Come on, I just got pole in Monaco."

"I know. And you just dismissed me as Max's trainer."

"That isn't the first time we've had to do this. You knew what it was going to be like dating me." Daniel argued back. His voice was clipped and, to be fair, you couldn't understand why. He had just gotten pole in Monaco and you were arguing with him about a girl. Daniel was right, there were numerous times where you two had to downplay your relationship in front of some sponsor or big name.

If anything, him doing that should just be reassuring that this was another case of some random big wig's daughter they had to appease and play the game again with.

But... you just had that feeling.

She had come into his room.

"Daniel. How does she know you?"

"Maybe because I'm a fucking Formula 1 driver and it's the fucking Monaco Grand Prix."

"Don't speak to me like that."

"Then don't be a fucking idiot." Daniel dismissed. "What do you want me to say? Why are you jumping down my throat right now about some girl? Now? When I just got pole? You're my girlfriend. Shouldn't you be celebrating with me? Not worried about some dumb shit in your head."

"It's not in my fucking head. Since when has a some sponsorship bitch come into your room? We're in Monaco and this shit doesn't even happen with Charles and - "

"Fuck's sake!" Daniel snapped. "I don't fucking need this right now!"

And then he stormed off.

And his helmet was still in your hands.

You looked down to the DR3 print and saw yourself in the reflection. You weren't sure at what point you started to cry.

The celebrations for Monaco 2018 were some of the worst days of your life.

Even after Daniel won and fell into the pool, something didn't feel right inside, in your gut. Naturally, the parties went all night long and Red Bull spared no expense. Even Max eventually got over his own shit weekend and mood and join in the festivities.

But you weren't. No amount of alcohol helped seeing your boyfriend dance with all those girls. Not that you could drink. It felt like anything you consumed might just come right back out.

Monica had been there every single second. You had to watch as she sat in his lap, as she pressed kisses on his cheek. Max was nowhere to be seen and Charles had decided to leave the parties to go spend time with the family. Something you really should be doing. But you couldn't drag yourself away from it.

It hurt, it down right fucking sucked to watch Daniel like this - completely in his element and overjoyed - and that you were in no way part of his picture.

"You should go home."

You looked to where the Spanish-lilted voice disrupted the tunnel vision you had on Daniel pouring tequila straight into Monica's mouth.

Carlos was smiling softly at you. He had a gin and tonic in his hand and was dressed in a white linen shirt. You frowned, wondering since when he looked so grown up. Like a man.

"You look like a man." Maybe you were a lot more drunk than you had thought.

His smile became slightly amused. "Maybe because I am, bella."

You smiled at the pet name and found yourself tilting your head to the side. "Did you shave?"

His amused smile turned into an all out laugh. "I did. I felt like Monaco needed a clean face."

You nodded, considering this. In hindsight, the alcohol was a blessing since you could stand here and talk to Carlos about his hair habits and have a momentary reprieve that that was the only thing your mind was processing.

Not the girl dancing on your boyfriend.

"Ricciardo doesn't deserve you."

You looked up at Carlos. He was staring at the scene you had been studying for the past two hours, ever since you had arrived. You had decided to play a toxic game with yourself where you would wait until Daniel asked about you and then you would reveal yourself. After forty five minutes of this game, you ended up at the bar wondering you were even in this relationship. If you could even call it that.

"Thanks Carlos."

"Can you let me take you home?" Carlos asked. "Please."

You blinked at this, at his gentle insistence. You knew it stemmed from pity, that he really wanted to save you from the embarrassment that was your partner going off with anyone woman right in front of you.

"Okay."

Carlos helped you up and put a gentle hand on your back as he guided you out of the club. You thought it very kind and gentlemanly of him. And whilst Carlos would pride himself on being a gentlemen, the real act of kindness was guiding you away so you wouldn't see Daniel stick his tongue down a model's throat.

Carlos' kindness, however, was short-lived. He blames himself. He had wanted to take you for the scenic route around Monaco, get your mind off of it. He bought you ice-cream and was pleased that he would be walking a now smiling you to your hotel room.

Only that you'd open your door and be met with groans and moans. Familiar groans and moans.

Daniel. With multiple women.

In the hotel room you both had shared. As you always had shared. Your home. Supposedly.

You said nothing. What could you say? You weren't exactly prepared to go in there and scream and wail about him - him -- Daniel your -

No.

You found yourself closing the door. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

"Please... don't tell anyone." You spoke to the man beside you.

"Bella..." He began in a soft voice.

"Please Carlos."

"Of course." He said and reached for your hand. You looked down at him reaching for your fingers, holding them oh so gently. "You've asked me to."

Carlos pressed your fingers to his lips. Your eyes watered at the kindness.

"Please don't cry about that fool."

But you did. Carlos pulled you close as your tears spilled. You weren't sure how or when but Carlos had brought you into another hotel room, one less flash and in retrospect, it had to be his. But in that moment, nothing made sense. Your attention was focused on one thing and one thing alone: Daniel didn't want you.

And so you spent the entire night crying on the bathroom floor.

And it wasn't even yours.

Charles eventually found out.

Not from Carlos. You were surprised he stuck to his word. He had reached out in the few days following Monaco but you ignored him. You just didn't - you couldn't.

It happened, again, in the bathroom. You were brushing your teeth in Charles' ensuite. He knew something was up - you were always asking what he was up to and if you could do whatever with him. Not that Charles minded but he knew you. You were avoiding something.

And if you wanted to avoid Carlos and Daniel and even Max, that was doable. But you couldn't have foresaw the text you'd get one random day.

I didn't realise you were his girlfriend. I'm sorry. He never told me.

You stared the message. Three lines. You stared at them for a good few minutes. Then came the three dots dancing. Then came the screenshots. All the screenshots. Screenshots of Daniel messaging Mon. Messages that dated all the way back before Hungary.

You had toothpaste in your mouth. You immediately spat it out. Then you went to the toilet and heaved. The sounds of vomiting must've alerted Charles because in he came and held your hair back.

You cried and cried. It all broke you again. You don't remember at what point you were verbal enough to tell Charles. Or maybe he read your phone. Nonetheless, Charles somehow figured out what happened and boy was he furious.

That had caused some commotion in the Leclerc household since Charles was all ready to grab his keys and drive to Ricciardo's place. It took Lorenzo being the calm, sensible elder to point a finger at you and ask Charles what was really important now.

"Pense à elle! Maintenant, elle est la plus importante!"

And so the t-shirt Charles had been wearing, a strippy oversized T you'd bought him one random Tuesday, became ruined from your tears. Snot, mascara, the works.

You slept in Charles' arms that night.

You woke up in Charles' arms the next morning.

You spent the day in Charles' bed.

You spent the next week in Charles' bed.

Charles went with Lorenzo to pick up your stuff from Daniel's apartment. Charles copped the earful from Pascale for punching Daniel in the face when the Australian kept probing him for information on your radio silence. Charles bought you a new phone and set it up - making sure to block Daniel's number. Charles sat through all the Top Gear reruns. Charles made sure you ate, even just a little bit. Charles organised a lawyer for you to speak to Christian Horner and Daniel Ricciardo. Charles prepared the paperwork for you to move from Red Bull to join him at Sauber and then, God hoping, Ferrari afterwards.

"Imagine it mon tresor! You and I at Ferrari. We win the Championship and you can fuck off all the idiots." You smiled at Charles who was once again doing the most to make you smile.

"Thank you Charles." You said, smiling at the beautiful boy. You were laying on his bed and Charles jumped on to land on his stomach with an oof.

He booped your nose and then rolled over to turn on the TV and cast the next Top Gear special onto the flatscreen. "Okay, Middle Eastern special. Vas-y!"

You looked at your best friend, your Charles. The break-up with Daniel was going to suck - it was sucking - but Charles made it all the more easier. Everything would get easier. 'Just give it time.' As he said. In time, you'd be working with him and not have to ever talk to Daniel Ricciardo ever again.

It's okay. You reminded yourself of this fact over and over again. Looking over at Charles, you felt some serenity. It would suck, but you knew you could live life without Daniel Ricciardo. But losing Charles? God help you, you'd probably die.

A month later, Charles left.

taglist:

@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery @vicurious28 @taytaylala12 @c-losur3

@hiireadstuff @samantha-chicago @fionaschicken @casperlikej @bookstore-of-dreams

@itsjustkhaos @sam-is-lost @laneyspaulding19 @formula1mount @bokutos-babyowl

@stampiej @alilcloudy @bingussthirdtoe @lilymurphy03 @inlovewmarlenemckinnon

@charllleclerc @richardniixon @sp1rl @nikfigueiredo @lozzamez3

@butterfliesflyaroundmymind @vellicora @ellen3101 @michelleyw81 @samantha-chicago

@bloodyymaryyy @a-beaverhausen @bokutos-babyowl @tsireyasgf

[eternalsunrise]

call my bluff.

deadpool (wade wilson) x gn! reader

word count: 2.1k

summary! deadpool and you have an unorthodox dynamic. every time the masked man ends up in your neighborhood, he can’t seem to stay away. you’ve never seen his face or even heard his name, but the two of you are in a game of flirtation with no end in sight. as the tension is raised, both of you wonder, is there something more here?

tags! reader is a regular citizen, talk of reader wearing a skirt but i don’t think i used any pronouns? HEAVILY suggestive but no smut, alcohol mentions, i wrote this with comic deadpool in mind but could easily be ryan’s as well!!

notes! the collective d&w brainrot has caused me to open tumblr and actually complete a fic. hope u love it <3 abs

“taxi!”

the crisp night air nipped at your legs as you stepped off of the sidewalk and onto the edge of the street for the fifth time in the past fifteen minutes. you waved your hands semi erratically, jumping up and down as to try and make yourself take up more space so that the bright yellow vehicle would take notice. instead you watched as it zipped right past you, short term deja vu happening once again.

you threw your arms down in defeat and stared up at the night sky, “fuck!” you sent your frustrations up to the half of a full moon you could see, the other portion blocked by skyscrapers. how is it that this city was known to be crawling with cabs and you couldn’t even flag one of them down? were you on some kind of taxi blacklist?

whatever the reason, you decided that between your horrible luck with public transport and your dead cell phone, you might as well start the trek home.

your body buzzed with the alcohol from the evening; your night out with friends had veered into the early morning hours, and you promised them you’d be able to find your way home. blacklist or not, the city was walkable and you were tired of waiting.

so you crossed your arms over your chest, a half baked attempted at hiding from the chill of the city. you started walking in the direction of your apartment, craving the touch of warm sheets and pillowcases.

after a few minutes of sharing the air with faint car horns and the buzzing of people’s air conditioning units, you heard something else. someone else.

you weren’t naive, the city never sleeps, and there were bound to be people out just like you. however the path you chose was definitely less trafficked, and general paranoia was starting to set in. after all, you’ve been the only person for the past three blocks, only sharing the sidewalk with stray cats.

the thought that someone was behind you forced you to sober up quickly. ice cold blood replacing the warm alcohol that was coursing through your veins.

the footsteps are louder now, matching your heartbeat patting against your rib cage. you wonder why they haven’t walked past you yet. were you being followed? taking a deep breath, you reach into your bag slowly. you retrieve your small weapon of defense, ready to face off a potential threat. whoever it was, they were behind you now. you figured your best bet was fight AND flight. attack and spirit off.

you hear a wolf whistle, deep and slow, right in your ear. it’s now or never.

you whip around and shove your arm toward the nightcrawler (pervert?). you open your mouth to let out a scream and clench your eyes shut. you’re surprised when your voice is muffled by…leather?

“oh cupcake, this is adorable! where’d you get this, amazon?”

you open your eyes and are stunned to lock them with a sea of red and black. your eyes trail upwards, spying artificial whites and a mask you’ve grown familiar with. the original terror you felt starts draining from your body, and is replaced by shock and a strange sense of relief.

deadpool has one of his gloved hands locked around your wrist, long index finger just barely lifting yours off of the trigger of the object in question. a travel sized, hot pink, container of mace.

you open your mouth again to speak but find his other hand muffling your airways, his large palm covering your mouth and tip of your nose. you frantically grasp at his arm with your free hand, yanking it away from your face.

“you know sweet thing, if you wanna walk around this late by yourself, you’ll need something a little more industrial. i actually know a guy if you-“

you take in a giant gulp of air and clutch your chest, trying to slow down your heart rate, “what. the FUCK is wrong with you?” you cut off deadpool’s rambling, staring at his blank eyes.

the merc tilts his head to the side as if he was a confused golden retriever, “really? you wanna trauma dump right now? well…” he clears his throat, voice dropping an octave to portray faux sincerity, “i guess it all started in third grade…”

you groaned and rubbed your face with your free hand, the other still in control by your assaulter, “you could’ve announced yourself, you gave me a heart attack! what are you doing following me anyway?”

deadpool finally releases your hand, his own finding home on his hips, resting right above his two holsters. “well i saw you wandering around like carrie bradshaw. and i may not be your mister, but i was hoping to give you something Big.” he shrugs as if that response was as normal as discussing the weather. you shove your measly can of mace back into your bag.

shaking your head, you turn on your heels, starting to walk away. you plan to continue your trek home, confident that the anti hero would be quick to follow behind. “how hard would it be to just say you want to walk me home?”

you’ve been playing this game of back and forth flirtation for a while now, and you knew that deep…deep…deep down he was masking true concern for you.

deciding not to answer, deadpool took just a few of his large strides to end up by your side. “what are you doing walking alone looking like that anyway? admit it! you were hoping i’d show up.”

you look at him with glassy eyes. now that your guard was fully down, you started to feel the effects of those three tequila shots you took as a send off to your friends. maybe those weren’t such a good idea. the way you’re looking up at him make’s deadpool’s wade’s stomach turn, and he has to clench his fists to control himself.

suddenly he’s forgotten why he was on this side of town in the first place.

you let out a laugh full of teeth, “oh you wish! i haven’t seen you in a few days though, had to go out to fill my needs elsewhere.”

what you two have has never went beyond casual flirtation, but the idea of you being under someone else sparks a match of jealously. but wade knows better. and he knows that slight stumble as you walk, your hands pulling the skirt of your outfit down.

deadpool hisses as if you’ve hit a nerve, “ouch baby, i didn’t think i’d be third wheeling with you and jose cuervo tonight.” he spots a car driving toward the two of you and acts quickly; he places a gloved hand on your waist and moves you away from the sidewalk. he doesn’t miss a beat, you don’t even realize you’ve switched places.

you’re looking back up at him again as you walk, this time reaching up and tapping the handle of one of his sheathed katanas, “what about you killer? you been thinkin’ about me?” you’re teasing him, but a small part of you hopes he’ll give you a genuine answer that aligns with what you want to hear.

his mask creases as he raises his eyebrows and you can’t see but wade is giving you a smirk that sits on the side of his mouth, “oh you know it sweet thing. every time i’ve slid one of these bad boys in and out of a bad guy, it reminds me of what we could have.”

deadpool lets out a dramatic sigh, reminiscing on something that hasn’t even happened, “but their screams usually ruin my hard on, i think your’s would have the opposite effect.”

so much for your genuine answer.

you blame the red on your cheeks and buzzing feeling on the alcohol, pushing the thought of the real cause into a box and storing it in the back of your mind. how embarrassing to feel this way about a masked weirdo that sometimes strolls through your neighborhood. you didn’t even know his real name. hell, you’ve never seen his face!

after a little more walking and a lot more sexual tension, the two of you arrive in front of your apartment building. you turn to face your escort for the evening, flashing him a grin full of drunken glee, “well this is my stop, thank you for the company mr. pool. i’ll have to repay you somehow.” your tone teasing but borderline suggestive.

deadpool nods and taps his chin a few times, “you’re right cupcake….since you’re offering…” he trails off, his voice growing deeper as he bent down to be eye level with you. your throat hitched, a gasp getting stuck there, not expecting him to call your bluff. “i take payments in the form of cash, debit, or check!”

he taps the tip of your nose and shoots back, standing up straight.

oh right! no way this guy would ever actually take you up on your banter! and that was a good thing…right? you decided to end the night now, preventing your drunken state from dragging a masked man into your home.

you rolled your eyes and braced your hand on his broad shoulder, stepping on the tip of your toes and placing a kiss on the side of his mask, the textured material tickling your lips. “goodnight handsome.”

you leaned away from him but trailed your hand down to rest on his chest. hey! the tequila was making you brave.

deadpool, no wade—deadpool—no! wade felt like he was about to fall backwards like a cartoon cat after getting hit with a sledgehammer. it had been a long time since his suit had experienced anything that gentle, he felt this was about to go down a dangerous path.

wade stared down at you through white lenses, his gaze bouncing between your hand and your lips. back and forth like a game of table tennis.

he watched as you bit your lip and held his gaze. your cheeks flushed, eyes glossy, the street lights illuminated your face in a way he’s never seen before. he wonders if potential onlookers could see small hearts surrounding his head.

wade feels a thought go through him, as if it swept in on the early morning breeze. a thought that he felt insane (shocker) for having even for a moment.

standing there with you, he wants to be himself. he has the urge to be vulnerable; rip his mask off and be wade wilson with you. for you. in this moment he wants to be more than the merc that flirts with you. wade wants to be with you. he wants…..fuck he wants to take you inside and make sure your body leaves an imprint in the mattress that’ll be there for weeks. stop looking at him like that, his pants are getting tight.

and there’s deadpool. he imagines tiny versions of himself stabbing katanas into the hearts around his head. they let out sad whines as they deflate and fall onto the sidewalk below him. he needs to get a grip.

“sweet dreams angel face. oh! if you need me throughout the night, just scream out of your bedroom window! screams of damsels in distress are like my mating call.”

you retract your hand with a giggle that makes that stupid thought come back into deadpool’s head.

you hesitate. wanting to say something but…deciding best not to. you turn around and walk up the stairs to your door, ignoring the fire in your stomach that’s been growing after each flirtatious jab.

you hear him start to speak as soon as you put your key into the lock, and you turn around almost too eagerly. you want him to say what you’ve been wanting, craving to hear. you want him to enable that dark part of you; the part of you that wants more of him. the part of you that knows he’s wrong. that he’s got to be walking danger.

deadpool points at himself, “but babe, if you see a way less sexy guy in a suit responding to your call. one that has ugly little spider webs all over him? slam the window shut. you want nothing to do with that guy, trust me.”

your shoulders drop, an exhale released. you give him one last shake of your head, and a barely there smile, before you’re inside your home. the bubble that surrounded the two of you bursted.

the door shuts behind you but the masked man stays in place. he stares at the spot where you were just standing, thinking about all the other routes this night could’ve taken. he isn’t right for you. he should leave you alone. wade knows that. too bad deadpool’s never been a good listener.

[hell0-gh0st]

Movies for the girls who wants to fell something ♡₊⁺

(check the TW )

- The Virgin suicides (1999)

- White oleander (2002)

- Black Swan (2010)

- Girl interrupted (1999)

- Drop dead gorgeous (1999)

- Dirty girls (2000)

- Bones and all (2022)

- Gone girl (2014)

- Thirteen (2003)

- Jennyfer's body (2009)

- American beauty (1999)

- Carrie (1976)

- The loved ones (2009)

- Tragedy girls (2017)

- American Mary (2012)

- Welcolme to the dollhouse (1995)

- The substance (2024)

- Ghostland (2018)

- Valley of dolls (1967)

- Lady bird (2017)

- I,Tonya (2017)

- Hereditary (2018)

- Candy (2006)

- Requiem for a dream (2000)

- Priscilla (2023)

- Pearl (2022)

- Mysterious skin (2004)

- Buffalo 66 (1998)

- Donnie darko (2001)

- Midsommar (2019)

- Possession (1981)

- Palo alto (2013)

- Kids (1995)

- Christiane f (1981)

- Raw (2016)

- May (2002)

- Heather (1988)

- Ginger Snaps (2000)

- Tamara (the horror one, 2005)

- All Cheerleader die (2013)

- Saint Maud (2019)

- Stoker (2013)

- Orphan (2009)

- Heavenly creature (1994)

- Suspiria (1977 & 2018)

- The red shoes (1948)

- Repulsion (1965)

- Prozac nation (2001)

- Clockwork orange (1972)

- Fight club (1999)

- Leon (1994)

- Lolita (1962 & 1997)

- Noce blanche (1989)

- Lost in translation (2003)

- My Beautiful boy (2018)

- I believe in unicorns (2014)

- The Florida project (2017)

- The lovely bones (2009)

- Ripe (1996)

- Marie Antoinette (2006)

- Mustang (2015)

- Miss violence (2013)

- Daisies (1966)

- Ghost world (2001)

- Fantastic mr fox (2009)

- Juno (2007)

- Lilya 4 ever (2002)

- Gia (1998)

- The perfume (2006)

- To the bone (2017)

- Joker (2019)

- The perks of being a wallflower (2012)

- The crush (1993)

- Fishbowl (2020)

- Down in the valley (2005)

- Brokeback mountain (2005)

- Mother! (2017)

- Dancer in the dark (2000)

- Speak (2004)

- Sharing the Secret (2000)

- Amélie (2001)

- Tart (2001)

- Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind (2004)

- All the bright places (2020)

- Little miss sunshine (2006)

- As you are (2016)

- Dead poets society (1989)

- My girl (1991)

- Aftersun (2022)

- 5 feet apart (2019)

- Little women (2019)

- The pianist (2002)

- Where the crawdads sing (2022)

- La la land (2016)

- The glass castle (2017)

- 500 days of summer (2009)

- Uptown girls (2003)

- Call me by your name (2017)

- V for Vendetta (2005)

- The pictures of Dorian Gray (2009, The book is so much better)

- Waves (2019)

- Manchester by the sea (2016)

- A silent voice (2016)

- Death in Venice (1971)

- Valerie and her week of wonders (1970)

- Pretty baby (1977)

- Fat girl (2001)

- Twin peaks (1992)

- No is yes (1997)

- My best friend's exorcism (2022)

- Eyes without face (1960)

- Hanna (2011)

- Sick of myself (2022)

- Look away (2018)

- Young adult matters (2021)

- Angel egg (1985)

- Persepolis (2007)

- Brick (2005)

- Come and see (1985)

- Disco pigs (2001)

- Only Lovers Left Alive (2013)

- Heavenly creatures (1994)

- Humanist vampire seeking consenting suicidal person (2023)

[transfloridaresources]

[Photo ID: A person standing in daylight amidst dark smoke holding a large, Palestinian flag that obscures their face. Black, white, green, and red text reads: 'Global Strike. Jan 21-28, 2024.' Then more text reads: 'The strongest governments and weapons manufacturers are supporting this genocide against my people, and you are our only hope! STRIKE globally and call for a ceasefire! Strike, protest, stop the economic movements and make pressure on your countries to stand against this and stop it, if ISRAhell don’t find the financial and weapons support, or governments to hide their crimes they will be forced to stop the genocide! Go to the streets, protest and Globally strike for a week, (21-28) January! YALLA Brave and free people of the world, CEASEFIRE NOW! - Bisan Owda (wizard_bisan1). January 21, 2024.' /End ID]

[Photo ID: A photo Bisan took of herself in the smudged mirror of an elevator. She's holding her phone up to face level while looking at the screen. She's wearing a bright blue PRESS helmet and a bright blue PRESS vest. Text over the photo reads: 'Now, we are without any connection, neither the internet nor the cellular, we can’t reach each other’s inside Gaza, we don’t know if our families and friends are alive or not, wounded or not.. still in their places or not! We take hours of walking and searching to reach someone, while moving became very risky! We can’t reach to you as well! The footage, information and news from Gaza are not reaching you as before because the Israeli army intentionally destroyers the signal towers and the servers, even using the E-SIM requires being in a high place which is very risky!. I borrowed this vest to upload this post! - Bisan Owda (wizard_bisan1). January 21, 2024.' /End ID]

TFR is participating in the Global Strike called upon by @wizard_bisan1 for this week. No money will be spent & Palestinian voices will continue to be boosted, alongside other resources for how to best use this week in support of pressuring for a ceasefire.

Bisan's full message from January 21, 2024:

Hi everyone, it’s Bisan from Gaza, I am still alive Alhamdullah.. it’s been 107 days of genocide, 15 weeks, 2568 hours of killing us, taking over our homes and lands in Gaza Strip, and forcing us to choose between leaving or death.. and sometimes we can’t even choose.. the Israeli air strikes simply kill us without any warnings. Now, we are without any connection, neither the internet nor the cellular, we can’t reach each other’s inside Gaza, we don’t know if our families and friends are alive or not, wounded or not.. still in their places or not! We take hours of walking and searching to reach someone, while moving became very risky! We can’t reach to you as well! The footage, information and news from Gaza are not reaching you as before because the Israeli army intentionally destroyers the signal towers and the servers, even using the E-SIM requires being in a high place which is very risky!. I borrowed this vest to upload this post! I am not scared of death, but of being displaced, scared of losing my family or friends, scared of being wounded and can’t have my treatment because the health system is collapsed in Gaza, and to die in pain! I am not scared of the destruction.. I lost my work place.. my home and my family work place and source of income, I am terrified of being killed by an occupier, and to be forgotten, one oppressed Bisan of a whole occupied people. The strongest governments and weapons manufacturers are supporting this genocide against my people, and you are our only hope! STRIKE globally and call for a ceasefire! Strike, protest, stop the economic movements and make pressure on your countries to stand against this and stop it, if ISRAhell don’t find the financial and weapons support, or governments to hide their crimes they will be forced to stop the genocide! Go to the streets, protest and Globally strike for a week, (21-28) January! YALLA Brave and free people of the world, CEASEFIRE NOW!

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

How to Suck Your Best Friend’s D*ck 🍆💋

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Katsuki Bakugo x Eijiro Kirishima 💋

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Hurt/Comfort

CW: MDNI!, Characters are in their mid-twenties, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, spicy scenes, hand job, lemon, making Out, Blow Job (giving + Receiving), Smut, Dirty Talk, Hair Pulling, Anxiety / Panic Attack, Mental Illness, OCD, Hurt/Comfort

💕Link to My Master List 💕

How to Suck Your Best Friend’s Dick

Kirishima runs his hand through his bright red hair in frustration as he looks himself up and down in his floor length mirror. He’s going out with the class 1A crew tonight to celebrate Bakugo’s 25th birthday and he can’t find anything to wear.

He’s currently wearing his typical dark skinny jeans; a charcoal waffle patterned long-sleeved tee and an oversized puffer vest. A long silver chain dangles at his side, clipped across his right pant pocket for aesthetic. He’s popped on a pair of steel earrings, with a matching industrial bar across the shell of his left ear.

He admires himself from a few different angles. “Ugh…so tacky.” He groans, pulling off his jeans to try something else. Katsuki is always telling the red haired hero to step up his style game. He’s constantly calling Kirishima out on his lack of fashion sense. But the thing is – Kirishima loves whenKatsuki notices what he’s wearing. He lives for the little moments when the explosion hero is nitpicks his outfits. Making fun of him for “dressing so tacky” or for “overdressing for the event.” It feels good to be looked at by Katsuki – to know that the blonde’s eyes (if even for a brief moment) are crisscrossing Eijiro’s toned body, appraising him.

Maybe tonight he’ll surprise Katsuki for once. Eijiro opens his closet again and grabs a shopping bag that’s shoved to the very back. Earlier that month, Mina took him shopping to buy what she called a “more low key” outfit to wear on dates. He had been complaining that the paparazzi always noticed him when he was out. He loved being acknowledged for his hero work – but there were just some nights when he wanted to fly under the radar. Mina had pointed out that his distinct punk style made him stick out like a sore thumb everywhere he went. Red Riot the hero had a style and a personal brand that was so strong; it made it impossible for him to blend in with a crowd.

“Red Riot has a brand, but Eijiro doesn’t need to stick to just one style.” Mina had told him as she searched through the racks of Abercrombie at their local mall. “Let’s start building up your civilian wardrobe. You’re 24 years old, it’s about time you started experimenting with your look. You don’t always have to wear the same pair of black skinny jeans. Let’s find some outfits that make you feel hot and confident!”

And that’s how he ended up with the shopping bag. He reaches down and pulls out a pair of soft corduroy pants. As he steps into the textured fabric, he wonders what Katsuki might think about them. They’re so different than what he usually wears, but they hug his ass much more nicely than his usual baggy clothes. Next he shrugs into a dark blue button down, leaving it unbuttoned over a white undershirt. He swaps out his steel earrings for a pair of small black studs. Lastly, he adds a pair of dark brown Chelsea boots to complete the look. He’s surprised at how comfortable the shoes are – he always thought boots like this would be stiff and unyielding.

He turns to look at himself in the mirror. Not bad – he smiles as he admires his new look. He cuts an impressive figure – the clothing hugs his figure in all the right ways, showing off his toned Pro Hero body. Mina really knows her stuff – he snaps a selfie and sends it to her, praising her fashion know-how. She instantly replies with a dozen smiley faces with heart eyes and the words “Wonder what Bakugo will think?” With a side eye emoji.

Kirishima grins at the message before looking back into the mirror. He unties his hair from its messy bun, letting it fall to his chin. On a typical day, he’d style and spike it up with an unholy amount of hair gel. But for this new look he’s trying…maybe tonight he’ll just leave it down. He grabs a hairbrush off his bedside table and smooths it out as much as he can. He’s having fun trying something new!

Feeling confident with his new duds, he checks his watch. Shit! Running late as usual. He hastily grabs his wallet and phone and all but sprints out the door.

The crew is meeting in their usual spot – The Wallfish - a grimy dive bar 4 blocks over from Kirishima’s apartment. The bartender is friendly and the place is always filled with locals. It’s low-key and no one pays any mind to the group of top ranked Pro Heroes and UA graduates that regularly frequent the establishment. It’s a special place – a holy place. The kind of spot the group can go to unwind after a long day of being Pros.

Kirishima arrives at the tiny dive out of breath, bursting through the door 20 minutes late to the party. He sees his friends crowded at the far side of the bar, all smiling and laughing in the long, dimly lit room.

Most of Class A is there – Mina and Hagakure are making heart eyes at the hot bar tender as he pours them drinks. Midoriya and Todoroki are sitting at the bar, laughing over tall glasses of some craft beer Eijiro can never remember the name of. Shoji and Oijiro are bent over Shoji’s cell phone near the jukebox, trying to remember the name of a 80s song they had heard earlier that day on the radio. Momo and Uraraka are chatting animatedly in the corner, the anti-gravity hero is clutching a cloud of “Happy Birthday!” foil balloons with All Might’s face printed on them. Other members of the class are scattered around the room – swapping work stories and sharing life updates. They’re all smiling, laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

And then there’s Bakugo – his best friend of all. The explosion hero has his elbow propped up on the bar, a low glass of whiskey in his hand. There’s a smile stretched across his handsome face and he’s snorting at some dumb story Denki is recounting. Katsuki is wearing a tight grey polo and a pair of dark navy joggers that perfectly shape his taught ass. His thick blonde hair is just the right amount of ruffled, and he’s looking gorgeous as all hell. Feeling someone’s eyes assessing him, Katsuki looks up and meets Eijiro’s gaze for a moment. His searing ruby eyes give Eijiro a quick once over and he smirks before turning back to Denki. Eijiro’s heartbeat quickens.

The sturdy hero quickly shakes his head to clear it and then looks back around the room at all of his dear friends. Seeing all his buddies in one place causes a feeling of warmth to well up in Eijiro’s fast beating chest. He smiles fondly at them all. It’s incredible that even years after graduating UA, they’re all still close like this. He doesn’t have long to bask in the glow of his love for his friends, because soon enough – they notice him.

“Oh my God! Eijiro, you look so CUTE!” Hagakure squeals, pulling Mina in his direction. “Mina told me she helped you go shopping – but I had no idea she had picked out something this hot! I want to strip you down and eat you up!

Kirishima blushes bright red as Momo and Uraraka take notice of him as well – rushing over to gush over his new ‘fit.

“Eijiro – you look wonderful!” Momo says, taking him in. She’s wearing a black backless dress that’s as sexy as it is expensive. “I love your Chelsea boots – so fashionable!”

“I just figured it would be nice to try something new.” He stammers, trying not to draw any more attention. “The paparazzi have just been hounding me lately – I want to be able to have a low-key night out for once without ending up in the tabloids.”

“His dinner date last week ended up on the front page of the paper.” Mina whispers conspiratorially to the other girls. “The paparazzi recognized Red Riot’s trademark look right away and wouldn’t let him enjoy his dinner in peace.”

“Oh no! That’s awful.” Uraraka gives him a sympathetic look. “How did your date react?”

Kirishima’s shoulders slump. “Well she liked the idea of going out with a Pro Hero…until the paparazzi knocked her wine into her lap and ruined her dress.” The girls gasp in horror.

“Did it stain?” Momo asked, dismayed. It is common knowledge that in Momo’s opinion, a ruined outfit should be punishable by law.

“Oh, yeah.” Kirishima makes a face. “It was red wine and she was wearing white. She left the date right then and there. Billed me for dry cleaning the next day.”

“Oh nooooooo!” Hagakure wails dramatically. “I’m guessing there won’t be a second date?”

Kirishima shakes his head no. “I knew that being a Pro would be challenging…I just never thought it would be so difficult to date in the spotlight. So I’m trying a more toned-down look. I don’t know if this outfit really screams “Kirishima,” but it’s nice to try something new!” The girls all nod approvingly, clearly proud of Kiri for pushing himself out of his comfort zone. They catch up for a bit – sharing bad date stories and swapping style tips. Hagakure has recently hooked up with a hot B-list Pro and is thrilled to share the details. Momo is hiring her first sidekick and is looking for referrals. Uraraka is looking for the perfect leather jacket but can’t seem to find anything nice under $400. After a half hour of chatting and swapping advice, Kirishima bats a few All Might balloons away from his head and excuses himself so he can go greet the birthday boy.

He sees Bakugo has moved to sit with Midoriya and Todoroki. He’s on his second whiskey and he’s grinning widely – a sure fire sign that he’s buzzed and happy. Katsuki’s gotten better at chilling the fuck out over the years, but it still takes a bit for him to let his guard down – even amongst friends. But with Kirishima, Bakugo is always comfortable. When it’s just the two of them, the vibes are immaculate – they can chill, have deep chats, and just enjoy silence together. It’s one of Eijiro’s favorite things about their friendship – how natural it feels to just do nothing together.

Tonight, though…tonight is an event. The entirety of their friend group is out and loud and ready to party. Kirishima makes a beeline towards his best friend, waving hello to other members of class 1A as he does so.

“Happy Birthday, man!” He claps a hand on Bakugo’s back, trying not to notice how toned and muscular the explosion hero’s shoulder feels beneath his grasp.

Katsuki looks up at him with intense ruby eyes. Once again, his eyes dart across Eijiro’s body as he all but drinks in the new outfit. Katsuki takes in the fitted pants and the new shirt before hovering on Eijiro’s loose red hair. For a moment he seems – speechless? Kirishima smirks, and Bakugo’s eyebrows knit together in an angry reply. He opens his mouth to make a comment on Kirishima’s ‘fit, but is quickly cut off by Izuku’s enthusiastic welcome.

“Kirishima! Hi! You look great – I don’t think I’ve seen your hair down like that in a while!” Izuku babbles, waving to get the bar tender’s attention as Kirishima pulls up a bar stool.

Bakugo rolls his eyes at his green-haired friend before turning back to Kirishima. His cheeks have the tiniest tinge of pink as he says: “Yeah, it’s nice to see you without that shitty hair style for once.” Kirishima smiles at the backhanded compliment and Katsuki looks away, swirling the whiskey in his glass.

The bar tender plants a martini in Kirishima’s hand without giving him a glance. As a regular, Eijiro hasn’t had to place an order in years. He sips the drink and grins as his friends start recounting stories from their first internships. Todoroki and Midoriya laugh as they mock Bakugo, remembering the way Best Jeanist had forced him to style his hair.

“I have sensitive skin – I’m allergic to hair products!” Bakugo groans as they pass around Midoriya’s phone to admire photographic evidence. Kirishima leans across Todoroki to see the photo – a young Bakugo stares daggers at the camera, his hair slicked back in a comical replica of the Fiber Hero’s signature coiffure. Best Jeanist looms behind him in the pic – tall, denim and in his prime as the Number 3 hero. Kirishima can’t help but notice the softness that touches Katsuki’s eyes as he glances over at the photo – Jeanist had been an invaluable mentor in their first year.

Eijirou marvels at how complex of a person Katsuki can be. Over the years, the explosion hero has definitely mellowed out. He’s calmer now, less angry. He’s a loyal and true friend. Katsuki is now the guy Kirishima calls for empathy after a particularly bad day at work. The friend he spends every Saturday night with playing video games and eating vegan nachos. Katsuki has always been in his corner – standing with him through good times and bad. Pushing him to become his best self as a Pro Hero and as a man. Katsuki has so many layers and sides to him – and Eijiro fondly realizes he likes each and every one.

“Why are you looking at me like that, shitty hair?” Katsuki’s low voice shakes Eijiro from his train of thought. With a start, he realizes that he’s already finished his first drink and the alcohol has made him hazy. He’s been openly staring at his friend for a solid minute.

“Damn, that’s strong.” He compliments the bar tender before turning back to his friend. “I dunno man, I was just thinking about how glad I am that we’ve been friends for so long! Happy to be out here celebrating you.”

“You’re too corny, Eij.” Katsuki says roughly, but he’s still grinning. The smile is unguarded and genuine – a sign that Katsuki is a drink or two in as well. They spend the next few minutes catching up about the latest video game releases and whose apartment they’ll go to for game night.

An hour goes by, then two. Eijiro can’t remember the last time he’s had so much fun.

Soon enough, he’s got three drinks in him and is dancing with the girls by the jukebox. He’s won a game of drunken charades against Tokoyami and has arm-wrestled with Shoji at least twice. Now as he’s dancing, he feels loose and warm and fuzzy. Mina grabs his hand and twirls him in a quick circle before pushing him towards Denki. The two bump their hips together in sync, eliciting squeals from the girls. Uraraka has acquired a hot pink-feathered boa from who-knows-where and has used it to ensnare Midoriya and pull him onto the dance floor. The green haired hero tries to remember the dance choreography from the school festival that they performed at all those years ago.

Everyone is comfortable and happy and beaming. It’s definitely shaping up to be one of his all time favorite nights out when Katsuki lightly grabs his arm and pulls him off their self-designated dance floor.

“What’s up, man?” Kirishima runs his hand across his forehead to wipe a thin sheen of sweat from his face. He’s a bit flushed from the dancing. “Having a good birthday so far?”

Katsuki’s arms are crossed and he’s looking down at Kirishima appraisingly. He ignores the question.

“Meet me in the bathroom in 5 minutes.” He says mysteriously, before turning and stalking away. Kirishima feels a burst of excitement in his belly as he watches his friend go. He has a feeling he knows where this is going. He swings by the bar and downs a quick glass of water before making his way to the restrooms. The girls try to beckon him back to the dance floor and he waves them off with a laugh.

 “I’ll be right back – gotta take a leak!” The lie comes to his lips smooth as molasses. He’s pulled this disappearing act before.

He slips into one of the unisex bathroom stalls, flipping the lock so that the outter knob reads “occupied.” He barely has a second to breathe before Katsuki has him pressed against the wall and at his mercy. Eijiro groans appreciatively as he feels the full weight of his friend’s body press against his chest. Bakugo’s hands are all over him – on his chest, at his throat, inching up his shirt.

“This damn outfit.” Katsuki mutters gruffly in his ear before smashing their lips together. The kiss is both searing and demanding. Kirishima leans into Katsuki’s hot mouth, desperate to savor every moment their lips are connected.

This is something they do every once in a while – when they’re both buzzed and horny and single. They make out in bathroom stalls and dark alleyways. They press their bodies together until their limbs become so tangled up it’s impossible to tell where one person begins and the other ends.

And then…they never discuss it.

Eijiro’s breath hitches in his throat. “You…you like it?” he stutters out as Katsuki kisses down the sensitive skin of his throat, pulling Eijiro’s undershirt collar aside for better access. He receives a low growl in response.

“Your ass in these pants…” Katsuki’s hands wander down to the swell of Kirishima’s ass and squeeze. Eijiro yelps in surprise, and feels Katsuki smile into the curve of his shoulder. “Is that my birthday present?”

Kirishima feels himself flush at the praise. The new outfit has him feeling bold – “Actually I’d like to give you your birthday present somewhere more private.”

Katsuki doesn’t seem to hear him, as he’s preoccupied licking a hot stripe down his best friend’s collarbone. His hand has slipped into Kirishima’s back pocket for a better grip on the sturdy hero’s ass. Eijro’s legs feel like jelly, and he activates his quirk – hardening his shins and thighs to keep himself standing upright.

“Mmm…love it when you use your quirk.” Katsuki whispers hoarsely.

Eijiro feels his pants tighten. He wraps his arms around Katsuki’s neck and stuffs his fingers into his friend’s thick blonde hair. Katsuki lets out a soft sigh at the contact and bites lightly into the soft flesh of Eijiro’s shoulder.

“Listen, come back to my place. It’s right around the block.” Eijiro whispers, pushing lightly on Katsuki’s head, encouraging him to continue nipping a his sensitive skin.

At his words Katsuki breaks away from him, looking uncertain. They have never touched each other like this at either of their apartments, in either of their beds. They hang out often enough – meeting up for weekly gaming sessions with the other guys or grabbing takeout together while streaming an action movie. Katsuki is a constant presence at Eijiro’s apartment. And yet – the two had been careful to never cross any lines in their living spaces. Kissing at Kirishima’s place would carry an implication – the hookup would have to actually mean something.

Kirishima holds his breath for a moment, waiting for Katsuki’s answer. The explosion hero looks thoughtfully at Kirishima’s face, and then at his lips.

“Yeah…okay.”

Kirishima lets himself break into a grin. “Okay!”

He pulls himself away from Katsuki to take a quick look at himself in the bathroom mirror. He smooths the creases out of his shirt and makes himself presentable before unlocking the door and stepping back out into the social scene.

Out around the bar, the birthday party has clearly devolved – everyone is tipsy and buzzed. Their friends are laughing and chatting, all in various states of inebriation. The difference in how Class 1A handles their alcohol as staggering - Todoroki looks like he is falling asleep in his chair at the bar, meanwhile Ida has taken over the dance floor and is executing quick, sharp dance steps alongside Ochaco. Denki and Izuku are giggling over their latest round of beer, as Mina flirts shamelessly with their favorite bar tender.

“Birthday boy leaving already?” Denki calls out, drunk off his ass. “I didn’t get to give you a round of birthday shocks yet!”

“Katsuki’s pretty wasted!” Kirishima calls over lightly. “He’s gonna sleep it off on my couch.”

Katsuki looks pissed at the implication that he’d let himself get wasted this early in the night, but the excuse is undeniably a good one. He pretends to stumble and Kirishima catches him easily, wrapping an arm around the taller man’s waist. He feels a jolt of electricity run through him at the intimate touch. F

rom across the bar, Mina gives Eijiro a knowing look and he feels his face heat up in response. She’s the only person who Eijiro has ever confided in about his clandestine make out sessions with Katsuki. She smiles slyly and points to her phone, a clear request to be texted updates later.

Denki and the rest of the group wave hazily as they leave, a broken chorus of “Happy Birthdays!” ringing out into the night as the pair stumbles out the door and into the street.

“Our friends are so great, aren’t they?” Kirishima smiles as Bakugo lets his weight sag against him. They walk slowly on the cobblestones towards Kirishima’s apartment building.

Katsuki, in a rare moment of softness, looks up into the flickering streetlights and murmurs “yeah, they really are pretty great.”

Eijiro smiles widely as he looks down at his best friend. Katsuki’s grip around his shoulders tightens for a moment. It’s the most intimate they’ve ever been out in the open before. Eijiro knows that to any passersby they look like two good friends walking home after a night out. But if their friends from Class 1A were to see them like this…would they know?

It doesn’t take a special quirk to notice the way that Eijiro’s face flushes when Katsuki brushes his fingertips along Eijiro’s pulse point. It doesn’t take a master of stealth to figure out why the two are constantly disappearing together during late nights on the town.

Eijiro is pulled from his thoughts as they arrive at his apartment building. Katsuki detaches from him and the sturdy hero finds himself shivering with the sudden loss of his friend’s body heat. He reaches into his pocket and fumbles with his keys, nervously jamming them into the door’s lock.

“Eh? Is that what I think it is?” Katsuki peers curiously over Eijiro’s shoulder as the sturdy hero clumsily unlocks the door. Dangling from his silver key is an officially licensed Dynamight enamel keychain shaped like a grenade.

“Oh, yeah…” Eijiro says sheepishly. “Your assistant always sends me and the guys the first versions of your merch before it hits the market. I thought this design was pretty sweet – sorry if that’s lame.”

Katsuki smirks and reaches into his pocket to pull out his own keys. He holds them up for Eijiro to see – dangling from Katsuki’s own cluster of keys is a rubber keychain of a red stylized “RR” logo.

“Funny – your agency sent me a sick Red Riot crewneck last week along with this. I’m not usually one to rep hero merch, but sometimes I’ll make an exception.”

Eijiro’s heart ricochets around his chest. He takes a steadying breath before jokingly saying “I didn’t realize you were such a big Red Riot fan.”

“Of course I am, idiot.” Katsuki avoids his gaze and moves to push the door open since Eijiro has frozen in the doorway. “You’re my favorite hero. After All Might, of course. And maybe also after Best Jeanist if I’m feeling sappy.”

Katsuki leads the way to Eijiro’s second floor apartment, taking the stairs two at a time and keeping his face hidden from his friend’s view. Eijiro wonders if Katsuki is blushing as furiously as he is. You’re my favorite hero. Goddamn Eijiro’s never been so simultaneously turned on and lovesick in his life.

At the top of the stairs, Katsuki easily opens the door to Eijiro’s modest one bedroom apartment. Eijiro knows he’s an absolute idiot for never locking his door, but at this point he’s too turned on to care. He follows Katsuki into his comfortable living space. A charcoal colored sectional dominates the center of the room, dividing up the living room and kitchen areas. A large television is mounted across from the couch with an array of gaming devices stacked neatly in the shelving unit beside it.

Eijiro is particularly proud of his kitchen – a clean area defined by white subway tile and jet black appliances. A slick dark Kitchen Aid mixer sits at the ready on the sparkling counter. A collection of mismatched barstools sit beneath a stretch of countertop. A framed poster of Crimson Riot hangs above a cheap bar cart in the corner. Home, sweet home.

“I’ve always liked that you have the money to own this whole building, but you still rent this crappy place.” Katsuki smiles over his shoulder at Eijiro.

“Hey, hey – it’s not crappy. It’s well loved!” Eijro makes a face at his friend, but then notices the paint that’s chipping around the kitchen window. “Okay…admittedly it could use a fresh coat of paint. But being a Pro Hero doesn’t exactly leave time for me to work on home improvement!”

“Your place is great, Eij.” Katsuki says, moving to cup Eijiro’s face in his strong hands. “It’s perfectly you.”

Their lips connect, and Eijiro swears he can see stars at the contact. He’s almost giddy with delight – they’ve never been intimate in complete privacy like this before. All of those stolen kisses in bathroom stalls have been uncomfortably public and quick. Now, they can take their sweet time with each other. Katsuki kisses him slow and deep, as if he’s realizing the same thing. Eijiro realizes with a start that they’ve never kissed somewhere so quiet, either.

They stand like that for a while, just kissing in Eijiro’s homey living room. Katsuki pushes his fingers through Eijiro’s bright red hair before brushing his fingertips along the base of the sturdy hero’s scalp. Eijiro smiles into the kiss - it feels like heaven to be touched so tenderly.

Eijiro moves his hands to rest on Katsuki’s chest, feeling his friend’s rapid heart beat. He breaks away from the kiss and dips so that he can kiss along the tendons of Katsuki’s neck. The explosion hero sighs and seems to revel in the attention Eijiro is giving his sensitive skin.

“Maybe we should…uh…take this to the bedroom?” He grunts out as Eijiro nips at his earlobe.

“Yes.” Is all Eijiro has time to say before Katsuki grabs his hand and drags him across the apartment and through the threshold of Eijiro’s bedroom.

Eijiro’s room is a safe haven from the world of Pro Heroes and villains. The walls are a warm cream color and the décor is simple. It doesn’t fit at all with the punk aesthetic of the civilian clothes that are safely tucked away in his closet. There’s a small desk in the corner that houses his sleek laptop and the personal journals that he uses for therapy. Over the desk hangs a bulletin board filled with postcards and letters from friends and special fans.

A few framed pictures hang on the walls showing scenes from Eijiro’s life and childhood. Several hold beloved photos of his UA friends and mentors. One particular picture catches Katsuki’s eye – it depicts the two of them as first year students. They are wearing early versions of their hero costumes and look so incredibly young. Their arms are wrapped around each other and Katsuki has a fierce expression on his youthful face. Young Eijiro is displaying his trademark shark toothed grin. They look fresh and unburdened, two kids on the precipice of manhood. Two children about to be used as soldiers in an ugly war. Katsuki shakes his head to clear it of shadowy thoughts.  

Most of the room is taken up by a plush king sized bed that’s across from Eijiro’s closet. It’s stacked with pillows and sports a dark navy duvet. A large IKEA Blåhaj shark plush rests upon the soft duvet.

The space looks like a standard bedroom for a man in his mid-twenties. It’s sparse but clean. Aside from a few letters tacked to Eijiro’s bulletin board, the room holds no evidence of his Pro Hero career.

Katsuki flops down on the comfy bed like he owns the place and grins up at Eijiro. He pats the space next to him as an invitation. Eijiro smiles and places a hand on Katsuki’s chest, pushing him onto his back. He climbs on top of the explosion hero and resumes kissing down his neck.

“Doing this on a bed is a nice change.” Eijiro exhales, his breath ruffling the hair at the nape of Katsuki’s neck. Katsuki hums in agreement before rapping his arms around his friend and rolling them over. Eijiro’s eyes widen in surprise as he finds himself pinned down by Katsuki’s muscular frame.

Katsuki leans down and kisses up Eijiro’s strong jawline before recapturing his lips. It’s not long before he’s deepening the kiss, adding his tongue into the mix so he can get a taste of Japan’s sturdiest hero. Eijiro melts at the contact, letting his own tongue tangle with Katsuki’s.

“I’ve wanted you like this for so long.” Katsuki breathes as he breaks the passionate kiss. He looks down at Eijiro with a hungry look in his eyes. “Look at you…all mine.”

Fuck.

The piercing look in Katsuki’s ruby eyes is just too much. Eijiro is so turned on he can’t help himself - he rolls his hips and grinds against Katsuki and their hard dicks collide in the most delicious way. Eijiro’s never felt anything quite like it and he finds himself moaning softly at the contact. Katsuki responds with a thrust of his own, shifting slightly for a better angle. For a few minutes they just kiss and grind against each other. It’s like they’re teenagers again- all awkward lust and experimentation. Katsuki wants nothing more than to rip off Eijiro’s clothes right then and there.

Soon, both men’s breathing has grown ragged and Eijiro thinks that if they keep going on like this he may very well cum in his pants. He puts his hand back on Katsuki’s chest and lightly pushes against him to signal that he needs a break.

This is completely unknown territory for both of them, after all.

They’ve both been with girls in the past – hookups and girlfriends and one-night stands that have taught them the basics of pleasure and sex. But neither of them has ever slept with another man – and the thought of touching each other intimately is almost terrifying now that they are about to do it.

Katsuki sits back and takes a deep breath. “Let’s take a break for a sec.” He says, his voice husky as he shifts to adjust his hard cock in his pants.

“Are you nervous, too?” Eijiro asks him with wide eyes, unsure of what else to say.

“Of course I’m fucking nervous.” Katsuki says harshly, causing Eijiro to wince. “Sorry – sorry.” Katsuki amends, reaching forward to place a hand on Eijiro’s shoulder. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while. With you. But I’ve never fucked another guy, let alone one of my best friends. I don’t want to make things weird between us.” He says gruffly, his voice sincere despite the intense look on his face.

“Listen, man. It feels like we’ve been into each other for a while, so I don’t think that acting on our feelings is gonna change much. I’ve always liked you because you’re…well…you.” Eijiro reaches out to place his large hand over Katsuki’s. “I know you don’t like any of this mushy stuff, but I think we need to get it out into the open before all of the physical stuff. Clear the air.”

Katsuki groans in frustration, as if this conversation is physically challenging for him. And maybe it is.

“Ugh, fine.” He grunts out, turning over his hand so he can interlace his fingers with Eijiro’s. “I think you know how I feel. But if you need me to say it out loud, I’ll say it dammit.”

In the pregnant pause that follows, Eijiro realizes that he’s been holding his breath. He looks down at their intertwined hands and exhales softly. He’s waited so long for this moment, for these words.

“I’ve liked you as more than a friend for years.” Katsuki’s face softens, losing its typical tough mean mug. His expression is gentle, almost loving. Eijiro has only seen this look once or twice on his friends’ face, and his heart squeezes deliciously when Katsuki’s eyes dart up to meet his own. The look that passes between them is so sincere; it makes Eijiro’s head foggy.

“I don’t think I really understood my feelings fully until last year. That night at the bar when we first kissed…I was drunk and all I wanted to do was feel you against me, to feel your touch. When I woke up the next morning and remembered the way that we’d kissed in the bar bathroom… Eijiro I was a fuckin’ mess. I thought I’d ruined everything between us. But also…I didn’t care. I just wanted to kiss you again.”

Katsuki pauses to catch his breath. His face is flushed a deep, deep red and he looks embarrassed as all hell. But then he sticks out his chin defiantly and says “I kept trying to date girls and move on, but I always kept coming back to those feelings. I kept coming back to you. For months and months we pretended everything was fine. We’d get meals together, team up at work, go out with our friends…but any time we got a little alcohol in us it was game over. Every time we’re drunk, we can’t keep our damn hands off each other.”

“I’ve had a massive goddamn crush on your shitty ass this whole time. You’re my best friend. You know me better than anyone on this fuckin’ planet. You’re the first person I go to when I can’t get out of my own head. You’re one of the only people who understands what I went through in that shit war when we were kids. And on top of all of that…” Katsuki’s mouth quirks into an unexpected grin. “On top of all that, you’re hot as all hell. Dammit, just look at you.” Katsuki gestures at Eijiro vaguely with his free hand. “Sometimes it pisses me off how fuckin’ attractive you are with that shitty hair and your stupid piercings. Your stupid punk outfits.” Katsuki blushes impossibly deeper. “Eijiro shut me the fuck up I’m just embarrassing myself over here – “

Eijiro cuts him off with a kiss so deep it leaves them both breathless. He grabs Katsuki’s face and moves to straddle the blonde’s lap. Between breathless kisses he manages to say “That’s Exactly.” A kiss. “How I Feel.” Another kiss. “Katsuki.” The name comes out of Eijiro’s mouth as more of a moan than anything.

Katsuki grins as he moves to kiss down Eijiro’s neck. He revels in the way he can make the sturdy hero moan so easily, so freely.

“I’m fuckin’ done talking.” Katsuki says as he runs his hands across Eijiro’s toned chest. “Lose the shirt, idiot.”

Eijiro doesn’t need to be asked twice. He pulls off his navy button down and the white undershirt along with it. Suddenly, he’s bare chested and a little self conscious as Katsuki takes him in.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous.” Katsuki mutters as he kisses down the hard slope of his best friend’s chest. Kirishima’s never been one for nipple play – that is, until Katsuki runs his tongue in lazy circles around his chest.

“Shit!” Eijiro cries out in surprise at the sparkling sensation that shoots straight to his groin. “Y-you can keep doing that.”

“Oh, can I?” Katsuki says teasingly. He’s got a classic Bakugo shit-eating grin on his face as he lowers his mouth to Eijiro’s left nipple. He takes his time to suckle the hard nub before releasing it with a small pop! Kirishima whimpers in response.

Katsuki continues to lick and suck his way across Eijiro’s broad chest, his calloused fingers reaching up to run across the red head’s smooth jawline.

“You should take off your shirt, too.” Eijiro finally manages to squeak out in a much less-than-manly voice than he’d like.

Katsuki looks up at him with hazy eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

The explosion hero leans back and carefully strips off his charcoal colored polo. He tosses the shirt to the floor unceremoniously and allows Eijiro a moment to appreciate the hard, rippling muscle that’s left in its wake. An angry red scar winds across his left shoulder and down his chest. Eijiro traces the path of the scar reverently with his fingertips.

“Did it hurt?” He breathes out, letting his fingers wander across Katsuki’s healed flesh. “Is this one from the war?”

Katsuki lets out a deep breath as his friend traces a light fingertip across the ragged flesh. “Yeah.” He says softly. “It hurt like a bitch. And it’s ugly as all hell. But, hey, I’m still here.”

“Yeah.” Kirishima leans forward to kiss along the rough skin. Katsuki shivers in response, no one’s ever touched his scars like this. Kirishima’s lips brush across the scar tissue so lovingly, so reverently, that it makes something in Katsuki shatter inside like a dropped dinner plate.

“You’re still here.” Kirishima says under his breath, moving to capture Katsuki’s soft lips. The two kiss more slowly now, more deliberately. Bringing up the war has brought a strange kind of stillness to them both. They know how close they each came to dying, how precious these quiet moments are in the grand scheme of things.

Kirishima has never seen his friend so tender. It’s strange, he thinks, that this is the manliest Bakugo has ever looked to him. His features are so soft and open – it’s as if his typical scowl has been wiped clean off of his face, leaving nothing but sweetness. Kirishima knows that true manliness – true chivalry – can only come about when one is completely open about whom they are. In this moment, he feels that he’s finally seeing Katsuki for all that he is, and all that he can be.

Katsuki moves his fingers to Eijiro’s hair, softly combing through it in a way that is so loving it makes Eijiro want to die. The sturdy hero leans into the touch and finds he almost keens with pleasure at the way Katsuki smooths a thumb behind his ears. Katsuki moves to leave a wet trail of kisses down the sturdy hero’s neck.

“You’re so goddamn cute.” Katsuki breathes as he surfaces for air. “Fuck how have we not done this sooner?” He slowly fans out his fingers on Kirishima’s exposed abs. Kirishima laughs as Katsuki’s fingers hit a ticklish spot on his stomach.

Katsuki continues to kiss his way up Eijiro’s neck while moving his fingers further down the sturdy hero’s stomach. “God I’m so turned on right now.” Katsuki whispers. His hot, wet breath in Eijiro’s ear causes the red head to shiver. He feels Katsuki’s fingertips tracing lower and lower on his belly.

Katsuki ghosts his hand over Eijiro’s waistband and spreads his fingers wide over his friend’s crotch. He feels the hardness under the fabric of Eijiro’s pants and his hand jumps back, recoiling from the feel of his best friend’s hard cock. They both scramble away from each other awkwardly, both wide-eyed.

Eijiro feels as if he has been doused with a bucket of cold water. He realizes with a shock the magnitude of what they are about to do with each other. Kissing is one thing…but actual sex is a whole other playing field altogether.

“Eij…” Katsuki starts tentatively. “I didn’t mean to, like, withdraw like that. I just don’t know what to do.”

Eijiro nods, grateful to be blessed with another rare moment of vulnerability from Katsuki.

“I know, dude.” Eijiro consoles. “I always had a vision of how this could go down in my head. But being here with you right now…there’s nothing that could have prepared me for this.”

Katsuki lets out a shaky breath. “Yeah, that’s exactly it. So what’s our next step?”

“You’re usually such a know-it-all, Kats.” Eijiro teases, moving to get closer to his friend again. “I thought you were the big bad leader of our group.”

Katsuki scowls at him, but reaches out to wrap an arm around Eijiro���s shoulder all the same. He draws the red head to his chest fiercely. “Yeah, well, it takes time and experience to become a gay sex god, doesn’t it?”

This sets Eijiro off in a fit of giggles. He leans into Katsuki’s bare chest as he laughs, taking in the warm cedar scent of his friend’s body.

They sit like that for a minute – wrapped up in each other and grinning at Katsuki’s stupid posturing.

“Listen, man.” Eijiro says after a moment of comfortable silence. “We can just stop here if you want. Whatever makes you most comfortable.”

Katsuki’s not having any of Kirishima’s gentle and generous platitudes.

“I don’t wanna stop until I make you motherfucking cum, shitty hair.” He huffs, the old Bakugo fire flaring up. Eijiro’s heart does a somersault.

“You wanna…make me cum?” He says in a quiet voice.

“Of course I fuckin’ do! I thought we got all of the sappy shit out of the way already. Why else would I be sitting here with you half naked? You idiot. I’ve been jerking off to the thought of you cumming for literal months.” Katsuki squeezes his friend’s bare shoulder.

They sit in silence for a moment, processing all that Katsuki has just confessed. A blush blooms brightly across the explosion hero’s cheeks and he moves to wipe his sweaty hands on his pants. Eijiro’s nose picks up the strong sent of caramel.

Katsuki is notoriously self-conscious about his sweaty palms – his quirk causes him to produce flammable nitroglycerin-like substance in his sweat that has a very distinct scent. The Explosion Hero developed a nasty OCD habit a few years ago that caused him to repetitively wipe off his palms when stressed. After months of Katsuki being frustrated while trying to get rid of the tic on his own, Eijiro had contacted an old friend from the support course to help out. Hatsume had been thrilled to take on the project, and worked to develop a special pair of non-flammable gloves for Katsuki that would absorb his sweat without issue. Katsuki had pretended to hate the gloves, but they gave him a sense of security and safety that he had been missing when in his civilian clothes. The war had fucked everyone up, and the gloves had been a tool in helping Katsuki process his posttraumatic stress disorder and OCD alongside a trusted therapist.

But here, in Eijiro’s bed, Katsuki’s hands are bare and the Pro Hero is clearly stress sweating all over his clean cut pants. Eijiro knows Katsuki well enough to recognize the beginning of a panic attack when he sees one. He gets up and crosses to the other side of his room, sliding open a dresser drawer and retrieving a washcloth-sized swatch of fabric. He returns to his bed where Katsuki is rubbing his hands up and down his legs, still trying to erase any trace of sweat from his warm palms. Katsuki is absolutely locked in on the motion, staring down at his hands as he runs them across the thick fabric of his pants again and again.

Eijiro reaches out and places a hand on top of Katsuki’s to stop him from continuing the repetitive motion.

“Hey, Kats. It’s okay.” He wraps the small rectangle of fabric around his friend’s hands. Katsuki looks up at him, embarrassment ringing his eyes. He’s extremely self-conscious of his OCD repetitive motions, and Eijiro is one of the only people who know how bad his tics can be.

“This is a fabric sample that Hatsume sent over before she made your gloves. Look – it can absorb everything no problem. You’re okay.” Eijiro says softly, encouragingly. Katsuki sighs in relief as he sinks his hands into the fabric and lets it do its job. “Everything is okay. There’s nothing to be insecure about. I know you.”

Katsuki closes his eyes at the words, grateful. He takes a few calming breaths just like his therapist taught him to do all those years ago, back when he was trying to recover mentally from the war. He lets his breath out in a low hiss. Eijiro puts his hands on Katsuki’s arm to help ground him. They sit quietly for a few minutes. Eijiro eventually moves his hand to the small of Katsuki’s back, where he rubs soothing circles into his friend’s taught muscles. Katsuki continues to focus on his breath work, flowing through the beginning of the anxiety attack the best he can.

As Katsuki tries to re-center himself, Eijiro feels selfish for the way his brain repeats Katsuki’s words with relish - I’ve been jerking off to the thought of you cumming for literal months.” Eijiro has been doing the same for the better part of the year – getting off to hazy fantasies of a fucked out Katsuki. He tries to refocus himself so he can be helpful to his friend as they get through the anxiety attack at hand.

“Let me go get you a glass of water.” Eijiro says soothingly, rising to go to the kitchen. Katsuki nods thankfully as he continues to go through his breathing exercises, he’s finally starting to calm down.

Eijiro walks through his kitchen and grabs his biggest Owala water bottle and begins filling it with filtered ice water. Katsuki has a tendency towards getting dehydrated with his sweat-based quirk, so this isn’t the first time Eijiro has had to water his best friend. This also isn’t the first time he’s had to coach Katsuki through an anxiety episode.

Once the bottle is filled to the brim, he retreats back to his bedroom where Katsuki is sitting cross-legged and looking a hell of a lot better. He gratefully accepts the silver water bottle from Eijiro and starts gulping it down.

“Hey – slow sips! Slow sips!” Eijiro chides him, sitting down on the bed a few feet away from his friend. Katsuki scowls but obliges, taking gentler, measured sips until he’s drained half of the bottle.

“Better?” Eijiro asks, careful to give his friend some space.

“Yeah.” Katsuki breathes out slowly. “Thanks.”

“Always.” Eijiro smiles and grabs Katsuki a Red Riot branded coaster from his bedside table. Katsuki takes the coaster, smirking at the huge stylized “RR” that adorns the cardboard circle, and sets down the bottle on Eijiro’s bedside table. He then unwraps his hands from the square of special fabric so he can lay the rag to rest on the table as well.

“You always fuckin’ know how to handle my stupid ass.” Katsuki says weekly, all tough guy bravado long gone. In fact, Eijiro guesses he probably left the last of his faux-machismo at the bar alongside their friends.

“That’s what friends are for.” Eijiro says automatically. Katsuki reaches over and nervously covers Eijiro’s hand with his own. The sturdy hero can tell that his friend is still self-conscious about his sweaty palms, but is trying to move past his moment of anxiety.

“You and I – we’re more than friends, Eij. You know that.” Katsuki says softly. “Do you think we can keep going?”

“I don’t know if we should, Kats. This is a lot. It’s a big step. Maybe we need some time to breathe and regroup. We want whatever this is between us to be healthy.” Eijiro knows he’s sounding an overly cautious mother hen, but he can’t help himself. He doesn’t want to ruin their shot at being together.

 Katsuki looks at Eijiro with sparkling eyes. “Yeah I get that. But I think I’m good now. I really want to see this through…to touch you.”

Eijiro nods. “Are you sure? If you just want to go to sleep, I can take the couch. We can try again when we’re both in a better headspace.”

“Dammit, I’ve waited literal years for this. For you. I’m not going to let some shitty PTSD from a shitty war ruin a perfect night.” Katsuki scowls.

“Alright. Then let’s keep going.” Eijiro smiles softly. “But if you need to take a break at anytime you let me know.”

“Ever the chivalrous hero.” Katsuki rolls his eyes, but Eijiro can see the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“That’s me.” Eijiro puffs out his chest and strikes a mock-heroic pose. “Why don’t we slow down a little and, like, cuddle?” His cheeks heat up at this suggestion. He feels like this is a perfectly reasonable thing to ask for, but he thinks Katsuki might think the idea is dumb.

“Yeah, let’s do that. Take it slow for a sec and ease back in.” Katsuki agrees. He scoots himself up the bed so that he can rest his head on Eijiro’s pillows. Once he situates himself comfortably, he opens his arms out to Eijiro expectantly. The gesture is so sweet and strangely innocent for Katsuki. It’s a testament to their closeness, as well as to the fact that Katsuki is still coming out of his PTSD anxiety attack headspace.

Eijiro crawls up the bed and settles himself down in Katsuki’s arms. He marvels at the way his best friend’s arms wrap so securely around him. He feels so safe, so relaxed in the embrace. They lay there for a moment, enjoying the warmth of each others’ bodies before Katsuki turns his head to capture Eijiro’s mouth in a tender kiss.

This kiss is different from the others – it’s soft and slow and Eijiro can feel himself absolutely melting into Katsuki’s muscular frame with each brush of their lips. Katsuki moves one of his hands to cradle the back of the sturdy hero’s head, binding them together. Eijiro shifts so that his hands are pressed against Katsuki’s strong chest. He’s falling so incredibly hard right now – he’s so stupidly in love with this man that he feels as if he’s drowning in fizzy, sparkling stars.

With time, the kisses become fiercer. They’re both guys with wild hormones, after all. It doesn’t take much for them to get back to a frenzied state of lust. Their hands roam each other’s bodies freely now, getting more and more comfortable with each caress. Katsuki boldly reaches between them and runs his hand along Eijiro’s clothed cock, causing the red head to moan softly with want. Eijiro’s strong hand finds the curve of Katsuki’s ass and squeezes. The explosion hero hisses at the contact, feeling his weighty dick twinge with need in his pants.

Katsuki pauses for a moment, hand still resting on Eijiro’s strained crotch. He seems hesitant, unsure of what his next move should be. It’s so unlike Katsuki that Eijiro takes notice.

The sturdy hero breaks their lips apart and places a soft kiss on his friend’s smooth cheek.

“I think I’ve got an idea that we can try to kind of take the edge off.”

He slides off the bed and moves to retrieve his laptop. He props it up at the edge of the bed and flips it open, typing in a website address at Katsuki watches on curiously. It only takes him a moment to work out what Eijiro is doing.

“You think watching porn is going to help?” Katsuki says skeptically, despite the excited throbbing that’s occurring in his boxers.

“I do.” Eijro says, queuing up the site’s most popular video of the day.  An attractive heterosexual couple saunters on screen and begins to make out furiously. He gets up and walks to his nightstand, sliding open the drawer to reveal a fresh bottle of unscented lotion. He flops onto the bed next to Katsuki, and sits with his back against the headboard, legs strewn out in front of him. He pours a generous glob of lotion into one hand and holds the bottle out to Katsuki.

“We’re going to jerk off together like two normal guys and just see where things go from there.”

Katsuki tentatively reaches out a hand, palm facing up. Eijiro pours out another liberal portion of lotion. Katsuki accepts the lotion and hovers his hands uncertainly over his pants, looking to Eijiro for instruction.

Eijiro steels himself and gathers his nerve. This was his idea, after all. He takes a deep breath before shoving his pants and boxers down his muscular legs with one hand. He’s not particularly graceful as he shimmies out of the garment, but who gives a shit. He tosses his boxers to the ground and settles into a comfortable position. He looks down to see his thick cock standing at attention, flush against the hard planes of his Pro hero abs.

Katsuki looks on almost hungrily as Eijiro stares straight ahead his computer screen. The couple in the laptop screen are now stripping off each other’s clothes with abandon. The woman drops to her knees and begins to suck off her male counterpart. Eijiro feels his dick throb with need in response to the visual.

Nervously, he moves to grab his cock with his hand. Instant pleasure floods through his nervous system as he coats his dick in a thick layer of lotion and begins to jerk himself off. He throws his head back into the headboard of his bed and groans with satisfaction as he squeezes his fist lightly around the shaft of his hard member. He gets lost in the sensation for a moment before he remembers with horror that he has an audience.

With some trepidation, he peers over at Katsuki to see his friend working to remove his pants one leg at a time. Katsuki’s dick is so perfect that Eijiro’s mouth almost waters when he sees it – it’s flawlessly long and has some weight to it. The tip is flushed dark and leaking beads of pre-cum before Katsuki takes it in his hand and starts to slowly jerk himself off too.

They sit like that for a few minutes – watching the porno while slyly watching each other. With each passing moment, Katsuki becomes more vocal. He sighs, moans and groans along to the film as the porn star couple continues to get physical. He shyly glances over at Eijiro as he gets in a particularly good stroke, sighing as he does so.

It’s when Katsuki starts replacing his wordless moans with Eijiro’s name that things start to get particularly steamy.

“Eij…” Katsuki groans out as he fists his hard cock. The sturdy hero’s face flushness he turns to give Katsuki his full attention. They are sitting a foot apart on the bed – a distance that feels simultaneously both too far and too close. Eijiro decides to bravely close the gap, dropping his dick for a moment in order to scoot clumsily towards his friend.

“Kats…is it okay if I…?” Eijiro holds up his hand, motioning towards Katsuki’s crotch in an offering that needs no further elaboration.

Wordlessly, Katsuki nods and slides his hand down to his thigh. Their eyes remained locked as Eijiro reaches across to put his own hand on Katsuki’s throbbing cock. Electricity shoots through Katsuki’s body as Eijiro confidently flexes his fingers around his friend’s dick.

“Is this alright, man?” Eijiro whispers, his mouth barely moving as he stares at Katsuki’s toned, naked body in reverence. He revels in the way that every nerve in Bakugo’s body seems to be alive and ticking in response to Kirishima’s capable touch. There’s a small tremor running through the explosion hero’s legs. With relish, Eijiro realizes that Katsuki is desperately fighting his body’s natural instinct to thrust up into his fist.

“Yeah, whatever.” Katsuki says sarcastically, but his eyes are desperately begging Eijiro to keep going. Ever the people pleaser, Eijiro obliges. He slowly drags a fingertip up his friend’s lubed-up dick and watches as the member twitches in response. Katsuki blushes, almost ashamed of how turned on he is at the simple gesture. Eijiro smiles and a look passes over his face that’s almost wicked. The explosion hero almost shivers at the way his friend’s crimson eyes light up with mischief.

Eijiro continues to pump his dick and slowly gains a good rhythm. After a few minutes, Katsuki is absolutely blissed out. His eyes are half lidded as he watches his friend slowly work at his cock – each thrust pushing him closer to his limit. The sound of the porno has faded into the background; all Katsuki can hear is the gentle wet sound of Kirishima jerking him off.

“Faster.” The explosion hero mutters breathlessly, and Eijiro is more than happy to indulge him. “Ugh…” Katsuki’s moan is like a song Eijiro wants to hear on repeat. He continues to run his hand up and down his friend’s thick shaft, stopping every once and a while to concentrate on the head.

“If you keep going like that…I might…” Katsuki whispers, and Eijiro stops dead.

A beat. “Why’d ya stop?” Katsuki’s voice is almost a whine and Eijiro smiles.

“Because I want to use my mouth to make you cum.”

“Oh.” Katsuki’s mouth has gone dry. “Have you ever…?”

Eijiro’s cheeks heat up. “No, never with a guy.”

“Ok.” Katsuki isn’t really sure what to say aside from: “Neither have I.”

“Alright, we’ll be each other’s firsts then.” Eijiro says mock-enthusiastically, but he’s sweating.  This is so goddamn nerve wracking! You’d think that being best friends for the better part of a decade would make this kind of thing easier.

Surprisingly, Katsuki is the one to break the tension. He’s sitting there – naked and handsome. He moves to pull himself up so that his back rests against the headboard of Kirishima’s large bed. His cock standing at attention, slick with the lotion and pre-cum. It’s practically begging for Eijiro to wrap his lips around it.

“Jeez, I wish there was some sort of fuckin’ manual for this. Something like “Blowjobs 101,” or “Fucking Your Best Friend: For Dummies.” Katsuki says, his mouth quirking up at the corner the way that Eijiro loves.

Eijiro chuckles. “Hmm or even: “How to Suck Your Best Friend’s Dick.” A comprehensive guide!”

“Now that is a title that would make me buy a book.” Katsuki lets out a laugh. His voice softens. “It’s just me, Eijiro. Just two buddies hanging out and fuckin’ around.”

Kirishima smiles and runs a hand through his dark red hair. He scoots up the bed towards Katsuki, his eyes laser-focused on his friend’s stiff cock. He feels his own dick twitch with need and tries to ignore how fucking turned on he is.

“Now get over here Eij.” Katsuki beckons him closer, reaching out to pull him in for a soft kiss before whispering with a wolfish grin: “It’s not gonna suck itself.”

For some reason, that turns on Eijiro even more. He reaches down and gives his dick a few satisfying pumps. “Shit, Kats.” He moans, and Katsuki just smiles at the way he’s tearing his friend apart with words alone.

“Fuckin’ get to it already.” Katsuki says almost lazily, seeing the way that Kirishima’s body responds to being bossed around. “I don’t have all day here.”

Eijiro doesn’t need telling twice. He slides down the bed and positions himself between Katsuki’s fuzzy blonde legs. From where he’s sitting up against the headboard, Katsuki surveys his friend with an intense look in his eyes.

Eijiro gulps and takes in the man before him – Katsuki is all hard muscle and angles. His chest is toned and bare, but a wispy golden happy trail runs from his bellybutton down to his groin. Katsuki has a surprisingly slim waist that tapers down into a muscled “V” shape. He’s well endowed – in Kirishima’s opinion; his dick is the perfect size. Kirishima slowly licks his lips as he reaches out to take Katsuki’s length in his hand once more.

Katsuki’s eyes slide closed with pleasure as Eijiro begins to pump his cock again. Before he has time to register what’s happening, Eijiro leans forward and rolls his tongue across the head of his penis. Katsuki’s thighs jump with the unexpected sensation.

“Oh!” He lets out a small noise of surprise, and Eijiro takes the response as encouragement. He runs his tongue in a circle around Katsuki’s tip, before sucking the entire head into his mouth experimentally.

Here’s the thing – Eijiro has been on the receiving end of a lot of blowjobs in his adult life. He tries to remember the tricks that his past partners have performed that made him moan the most. He recalls being most impressed by women’s ability to multitask while performing oral.

Okay, he thinks as he continues to suck on the head like a pacifier, I can do this!

As he continues to suck, he uses his right hand to jerk Katsuki off, while moving his left hand to lightly fondle his friend’s balls.

“Holy shit Eij…” Is all Katsuki can say before Eijiro moves to take another few inches of cock in his mouth. He slides his lips down Katsuki’s rigid shaft as he continues to pump. It takes a moment or two, but soon Eijiro has the perfect rhythm going –he’s moving his hand and mouth in tandem in a way that’s making Katsuki see stars.

Katsuki is in absolute heaven. The view of Kirishima going down on him is enough alone to get him off. Kirishima pulls his lips off of his friend’s cock with a resounding “pop!”

“How’s that, Kats? Everything okay?” It’s so damn chivalrous of Kirishima to check in with his partner, and Katsuki’s heart rate quickens in a way that he’d be embarrassed about if he weren’t so fucking horny.

“Yeah keep fuckin’ going.” Katsuki almost whines, lacing strong fingers into Kirishima’s hair and forcefully pushing him to get back to sucking.

Eijiro’s eyes glaze over a bit at the harsh gesture, indicating to Katsuki that he likes to be pushed around in bed. This isn’t surprising, given how much of a people pleaser Kirishima tends to be. Kirishima resumes the blowjob, sloppily licking and sucking his way down Katsuki’s penis. Experimentally, Katsuki gives his friends’ hair a little tug. Eijiro moans in response, the vibrations from his mouth rippling up and down Katsuki’s cock like a vibrator.

“Ya like hair pulling, then?” Katsuki doesn’t wait for an answer before yanking a fistful of Eijiro’s hair a bit harder. The resulting moan from his friend’s throat is all the answer he needs. “I didn’t realize you’d like it so rough. Just wait until I fuck ya, shitty hair.”

Eijiro feels his cock twitch almost painfully at that comment. He can’t even imagine how amazing it would feel to be fucked hard by his best friend.

After only a few minutes, Katsuki is barely hanging on. As it turns out, Kirishima is excellent at giving head. Eijiro is absolutely filthy in his blowjob execution – he’s hollowing out his cheeks and making sloppy slurping noises every chance he gets. Katsuki is so caught up in the whole thing that he almost forgets to breathe.

Eijiro pulls his mouth off of Katsuki’s cock with a wet pop! A small thread of drool clings to his lips as he lifts his pretty face up to look Katsuki dead in the eyes.

“Breathe, Kats. You’re wayyy too tense right now.” He smooths a hand comfortingly across Katsuki’s fuzzy thigh. Katsuki obeys and takes a deep breath, bringing himself back to Earth a bit.

“I just got lost in it for a sec.” He says, his eyes blown wide with desire. “I can’t fuckin’ get over you. You’ve never done this before and you’re already so fucking good at this.”

Eijiro smiles at the compliment, using the moment to sloooooowly stroke Katsuki’s dick as the explosion hero continues to catch his breath.

“Ahhh.” Katsuki doesn’t even try to hide his moan as Eijiro pumps his cock. They’ve made it this far – there’s nothing either of them has to hide anymore.

“I’m gonna finish you off now, babe.” Eijiro says nonchalantly before licking a stripe up Katsuki’s shaft. Katsuki’s dick noticeably pulses at the pet name. “Would you like that?”

“Whatever.” Katsuki pretends to mean mug and put on his usual gruff persona, but it’s impossible to hold onto his tough guy act when Kirishima is looking up at him so openly with those fiery crimson eyes. Katsuki cracks a smile at his friend. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

Kirishima stops his ministrations and breaks into a grin. “I know, right?”

And suddenly, they’re both laughing. Deep belly laughs that carry through the apartment. Eijiro is climbing up Katsuki’s body and kissing him so, so sweetly. Their lips meet again and again and again until they’re grinning stupidly into each others mouths.

Then Kirishima’s pulling his friend off the bed and to his feet. He shoves Katsuki lightly, his palms hitting the explosion hero’s toned chest soundly as he pushes him against the wall.

“I want you to concentrate on me, babe.” Kirishima whispers as he drops to his knees and starts sucking Katsuki off again. He slurps greedily before smacking his lips together. “I want your eyes on me the whole time.” All Katsuki can do is nod “yes” as he winds his fingers through his friend’s hair and gives a light pull. Kirishima groans and takes Katsuki’s dick in his mouth again, resuming his haphazard blowjob. Katsuki tries his best to keep his eyes trained on his friend, but the pleasure is far too much. He lets his head fall back against the wall with a light “thud” as he moans with abandon.

“That’s it, Kats. Give it to me.” Eijiro is licking and sucking and reveling in the way he’s making Katsuki come undone. The blonde’s legs are shaking and he struggles to hold himself up as Eijiro eagerly pleasures him – bobbing up and down on Katsuki’s cock with frenetic energy. It’s so fucking good that Katsuki cries out when his pleasure hits its peak.

“Eij! Eij…I’m g-gonna…I’m gonna cum!” Katsuki waves his arms in an awkward,  helpless motion before trying to push Eijiro off of his dick. He’s not sure what to do. Would it be weird to cum in his best friend’s mouth!? He hasn’t thought this through enough and now he’s trying to back away to pull himself free from Eijiro’s hot, wet mouth – only to realize his back is literally against a wall. Now Katsuki is squirming around awkwardly and Eijiro’s mouth drops in surprise. Right on queue, because as his dick flies out of Eijiro’s mouth, Katsuki cums vigorously - spattering the sturdy hero’s chest and chin with sticky liquid.

“Fuck!” Katsuki reaches down and strokes himself through his orgasm until his dick becomes too sensitive. Eijiro watches in awe as he notices the foreign feeling of hot cum rolling down his chest.

For a moment, the two stare at each other in disbelief of what they’ve just done. Both are absolutely stark naked and sweaty – Eijiro’s hair is sticking up in odd places from where Katsuki has pulled at it, and Katuski’s legs quiver with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Thick ropes of hot cum are sliding down Kirishima’s face and chest.

Breaking the tension, Kirishima grins and uses the back of his hand to wipe his face.

“Fuck, Kats.” He is all he can say as his friend struggles to catch his breath.

Katsuki is red in the face and dripping with sweat. Eijiro gets to his feet and grabs a towel out of one of his dresser drawers. He slowly wipes the hot planes of Katsuki’s muscles clean as the blonde looks on sheepishly.

“That was so fucking hot.” Eijiro says a moment later as he finishes cleaning Katsuki off. He tosses the towel at the hamper on the other side of the room and it disappears inside, nothing but net.

“I’m sorry man.” Is all Katsuki can manage to say, his face burning as he moves to cover his naked body.

“Sorry?” Eijiro frowns and joins him back on the bed. “How come?”

“I…I fuckin’ came all over you. I hope it wasn’t a gross feeling or anything…” Katsuki trails off, his fiery eyes filled with something akin to shame as he runs a hand through his sweaty hair.

“Listen, Katsuki…this is our first time doing something like this so it’s bound to feel weird. But what we just did – what just happened between us? That felt so natural. And honestly – I can’t wait to make you cum like that again. Next time you can even cum in my mouth.” He grins, revealing a row of sharp sharky teeth to his friend.

Katsuki’s eyes rake across his features, double-checking that he’s sincere. He takes a deep breath and lets his face relax into a sleepy smile. “Well thank God, because that was awesome.”

“Fuck yeah it was.” Eijiro nods enthusiastically, leaning in to kiss the side of Katsuki’s face sloppily. The explosion hero laughs at the contact and reaches out to hold the side of Eijiro’s face.

“You got any tips for me?” He asks cheekily as he sits up on the bed.

“Tips…?”

“For giving head.” Katsuki reaches out to wipe his hands again on the square of special cloth that can absorb his quirk. “Obviously I’m going to return the favor.”

Now its Eijiro’s turn to blush – he feels patches of red bloom across his cheeks.

“O-oh, I mean, ugh – you don’t have to!” His words come up in a jumbled rush, which makes Katsuki’s grin widen.

“Shut up, idiot.” Katsuki says affectionately as he pushes Eijiro onto his back. Eijiro doesn’t put up a flight. He lets himself fall easily into the sheets and sink into the plush mattress. Katsuki gently passes him a pillow and he gratefully accepts, using it to prop up his head and shoulders as Katsuki moves between his legs.

The explosion hero places a hand on each of Eijiro’s knees and moves upward so that he is slowly caressing his friend’s toned thighs. Eijiro looks up at his friend’s face, transfixed as he melts beneath the Pro Hero’s calloused touch.

So here’s the thing about Katsuki – he’s given a lot of head. Up until this moment, he had only gone down on women, but he’s hoping that some of the same basic moves apply to all. He gently traces a fingertip up the inside of Eijiro’s right thigh and around his crotch, teasing. He does this a few more times, focusing on the delicate skin of Kirishima’s inner thigh. He tries to identify potential weak points on his friend’s impossibly fit body. Spots that will make him come undone.

After a few gentle caresses, he finds one such area – Eijiro’s hips are sensitive. Katsuki feels a glow of satisfaction settle in his stomach as he traces a light fingertip across Eijiro’s right hip and watches his friend shiver. He leans down to kiss the area – applying soft lips to the thick cords of muscle he finds there. He experimentally sinks his teeth lightly into the flesh, eliciting a gasp from Eijiro. The red head watches as his best friend continues to bite and suck at the area until he leaves a sizeable trail of hickies across Eijiro’s fair skin.

“Kats…” Eijiro moans as Katsuki’s fingers trace across his chest, find their way down, down down….wrapping themselves slowly around his thick cock and giving a gentle tug. Eijiro moans loudly at the contact, a reedy sound that matches up exactly with Katsuki’s fantasies.

Katsuki comes back to Eijiro’s thighs and begins to trail light kisses up and down the area as he strokes his friend’s dick steadily. Eijiro is absolutely melting at the touch – he’s loving the feel of Katsuki’s battle-callused fist and the harsh way his friend is handling his manhood. When Katsuki’s tongue darts out and across the head of his dick, Eijiro hisses in surprise. Katsuki looks up at him with a searing gaze, his mouth set in a serious line. His eyes are clouded over with a lust that’s so deep and dark that it makes Eijiro’s heart splutter and spark. The visual of Katsuki kneeling over him is so incredibly hot that Eijiro almost cums on the spot.

Katsuki continues to pump at Eijiro’s cock, running his tongue along the tip as he does so. “I’m gonna take such good care of you Eijiro.” Katsuki breathes out, his voice the most tender Eijiro’s ever heard it. “I’m going to make you all mine.”

Eijiro’s heart backflips in his chest, his stomach is all butterflies. Every time he’s imagined being fucked by Katsuki, he’s pictured it rough and mean, hot and heavy. He has never imagined, never hoped that they could share a sensual moment as gentle as this. It reinforces all of the sweet words Katsuki has shared earlier – he wants Eijiro, has always wanted Eijiro. This isn’t just some passing hookup; this is a deep-rooted connection. Eijiro wants to just drown in all of his mushy, fluttering feelings. He’s feeling so comfortable, so loved up, that he does. He lets himself sink into a blissed-out state. He gives Katsuki his trust, complete control. And Katsuki happily accepts.

Katsuki moves so that he can kiss along Eijiro’s stomach. Each caress is deliberate, delicate. When Katsuki finally takes Eijiro in his mouth, it’s smooth and sweet. He slides his lips around Eijiro’s girth slowly, giving his friend time to adjust to the sensation inch by inch. Eijiro closes his eyes and lets Katsuki get to work.

The explosion hero experimentally swirls his tongue around Eijiro’s cock as he continues to take it in his mouth. After a few moments he bottoms out – careful to breathe through his nose as his friend’s length twitches in his mouth and throat. He takes things slowly so that he can minimize his chances of gagging. He tries to relax the muscles in his throat and use his hand at Eijiro’s base to compensate as he begins to bob up and down.

Eijiro is in absolute heaven and can barely last as Katsuki gets a good rhythm going. Of course Katsuki is going to be the fucking best at anything he tries. Eijiro feels his orgasm come on suddenly and roll through him. Shit! He frantically attempts to push Katsuki’s mouth off of his dick, but in classic Katsuki fashion, the explosion hero has to go the extra mile. He holds firmly onto Eijiro’s hips and continues to suck at an even pace.

Eijiro can’t help but let out a soft moan of satisfaction as he cums cleanly into Katsuki’s mouth. His hips roll and stutter as he rides out his high, Katsuki continuing to use his mouth to pull the orgasm out of him all the while.

 Katsuki’s never given a blowjob, but he’s been on the receiving end of enough to know that it’s so goddamn fucking hot when the someone swallows. The foreign feeling of hot cum running down his throat causes him to gag for a moment of uncertainty – but remember Katsuki has been working his entire life to master and train his body. He’s able to quickly adjust to the new sensation and is soon swallowing greedily as Eijiro comes undone.

When Eijiro’s finally finished, Katsuki takes a moment to lick up Eijiro’s overly sensitive cock. The sturdy hero winces at the feeling of being over stimulated, and Katsuki grins wickedly. He uses his finger to tease lightly around Eijiro’s thick head, causing the red head to whimper.

Eijiro’s cheeks are flushed and burning hot. He desperately needs a drink of cool water – but in this moment all he can do is watch as his best friend continues to play with him. Katsuki tortures the hero for a few minutes more, waiting until Eijiro finally reaches out to move the explosion hero’s hand away. Katsuki gives in easily, pulling himself up so that he’s eye level with Eijiro.

“Hey.” He whispers, giving his friend a moment to catch his breath. Eijiro reaches out and wipes a drop of sticky fluid away from the corner of Katsuki’s mouth.

“Kats, that was…” Eijiro can’t come up with a word to describe the ecstasy of receiving head from Katsuki Bakugo.

“Yeah, I know.” Katsuki says smugly. He reaches out his arms and Eijiro folds into them easily, as if they’ve been doing this for years. For a moment, no words need to be shared. They bask in the feel of each other, each reveling in the fact that they finally pushed their relationship out of the goddamn “friend zone.”

They lay there for a while, tangled up in each other and staring at the ceiling. Eijiro looks absolutely blissed out, his red hair splayed out beneath his head like a fiery halo. Katsuki, however, is chewing on his lip nervously. Eijiro raises an eyebrow at Katsuki, openly questioning his lover’s anxious expression.

“So…what do we do now?” Katsuki asks his friend, turning so that their noses almost touch.

“Now – we shower.” Eijiro wrinkles his nose at the explosion hero. “You smell like sex, Kats.”

Katsuki pushes at Eijiro’s shoulder playfully. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

Eijiro turns over onto his back again, pulling Katsuki bodily towards him. They’re a sweaty, sticky mess all jumbled up together.

“I don’t really know what comes next.” Eijiro says to the ceiling, staring up as if his ceiling fan will be able to provide some guidance. “I can tell you that when I was younger I always fantasized about us going public together – being one of those Pro Hero couples on the magazines and in the news.” He smiles quietly to himself.

“It always seemed so lovely and glamorous the way that Pro couples take on the world together. But now that I’ve been a Pro for a while and I’ve seen how difficult it is to date in the spotlight…I would actually prefer us to stay out of the media. I know how you feel about gossip magazines and news outlets. And besides - I want for this to be ours, and ours alone.” He reaches out and blindly grabs Katsuki’s hand. “I think maybe we just keep things on the down low for a while, feel things out between us. Go on a few dates, maybe tell our friends. See what feels natural. And if someone leaks our relationship to the press – well we’d cross that bridge if we ever come to it.”

Katsuki takes this in for a moment, his brain sluggish and sleepy. “I’m gonna be honest…I think it’s gonna be fuckin’ hard not to show the whole world that you’re all mine.”

Eijiro smiles so widely at this statement that he feels his cheeks ache. His jaw throbs a bit as his muscles recover from giving Katsuki such an intense blow job. “I think you’ll manage.”

“You know I have a legendary short fuse.” Katsuki reaches up to wipe a bead of sweat off of his brow. “We go to so many press events and I always see girls hanging all over you – asking for your number, fawning over your muscles.” Katsuki shifts so he can look at his friend’s toned body appreciatively. “It’s been driving me nuts for years. But now that we’re actually together – if someone was all over you I think I’d punch their lights out.”

“Well you’re going to need to exercise some self control then.” Eijiro says flatly, moving towards Katsuki so he can boop his nose. “And besides, I’ve seen the way your sidekick is always making doe eyes at you. If we want to maintain some illusion of privacy, we’re both going to need to put up with some crap.”

Katsuki grumbles something unintelligible.

“Sorry – I didn’t hear that, man.” Eijiro teases. Katsuki lets out a small huff.

“I said…I’ll do anything to make this work. To make us work.”

“Same here.”

And after the wild night the pair have had together, that’s all that needs to be said.

They’re both exhausted and stinky and dehydrated. Eventually, Eijiro gets to his feat and reaches down to pull up Katsuki behind him. The explosion hero lets out a loud yawn and reaches over to check his phone. He squints as he scrolls through a wall of missed texts.

“Shit, Izuku is blowing up my phone. He said they are all going to Mina’s to continue the party.”

Eijiro peers over his shoulder and lets out a low laugh. “It’s already 1 AM!? Jeez, based on the spelling in these messages, Midoriya is drunkkkk.”

Katsuki reads aloud one of the text messages with a smirk as the pair makes their way into the kitchen. Eijiro puts on a pot of tea.

“Kacchannnnn r u feelin btr? Com prty @ Mnaaaaa.” Katsuki reads aloud with a smirk.

“You know, it’s funny.” Eijiro muses, running a hand through his bright hair. “I always thought you and Izuku had, like, a thing going on between the two of you.”

Katsuki looks at him thoughtfully for a moment, as if making a quick decision. He chooses his next words carefully. “I think that there was a time in our first year of where maybe I…ugh…wanted there to be something with Izuku. But I was so twisted up and full of resentment and fear and hormones. I didn’t fully understand what I was feeling and it made me so angry. Izuku and I never had a chance – we’re just friends now. And that feels right.”

Eijiro nods, knowing the two as well as he does, this explanation makes complete sense. The kettle starts to sing and he pours them each a steaming cup of tea.

“My weird fucked up relationship with Izuku is actually what made me realize that I’m attracted to guys.” Katsuki says thoughtfully, accepting a cup of tea with callused fingers. “You know I started to get a crush on you around our third year at UA.”

Eijiro marvels at how chatty an orgasm makes his friend-turned-lover. He notes this for the future.

The red headed Pro hero blows on his tea to cool it. He takes a snapshot of the scene in his minds eye for future dissection - they’re both stark naked in his tiny kitchen, discussing their intertwined fates. Katsuki’s bare ass is pressed up against the snack cupboard. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Katsuki grabs a clean Red Riot merch glass off the counter and fills it with tap water before chugging it back. “I caught a glimpse of your ass in the locker room and my whole body felt like it was on fire.”

Eijiro splutters into his tea laughing. “Really!? It was my ass that caught your eye?”

“Yeah your towel slipped and there it was. A perfect fuckin’ peach.” Katsuki barks out a laugh as well. “And obviously the fact that you were my first real friend played a role, too. You’ve always known me better than anybody.”

Eijiro is touched by these words. He wishes he could articulate just how much the blonde’s friendship has always meant to him. He recalls the moment that marked thr shift in his own feelings for Katsuki.

“I caught feelings for you wayyy back in our first year – remember how we saved you in Kamino Ward?” He takes a sip of his tea and sighs in contentment. “When you took my hand as we were flying through the air over All Might and those villain bastards…my heart just about exploded.”

“Huh.” Katsuki smirks. “How about that?”

They sip at their drinks for a while, enjoying each other’s company in silence.

“So should we go meet up with all the rest of them?” Eijiro asks. “I’m exhausted but I’m kind of riding a weird adrenaline high from everything that’s happened tonight.”

“Same here.” Katsuki holds up a hand and Eijiro notices with a start that he’s shaking.

The sturdy hero closes the distance between them so he can grab Katsuki’s hand. He massages lightly at the wrist where he knows Katsuki aches from his quirk. After a moment of light touches, he brings the back of Katsuki’s hand to his lips for a quick kiss.

“If we go, we’ll probably end up crashing at Mina’s place when we come down from the high. Plus, it’s so late.” Eijiro continues to massage up Katsuki’s arm, reaching all the muscles that bear the brunt of Katsuki’s explosive quirk.

“I think, maybe…” Katsuki sighs as Eijiro works at his overused muscles with sure fingers. “We stay in. Go shower, do some deep breathing and try to wind down. Keep tonight just for us.”

“That sounds perfect.” Eijiro flashes his signature sharp-toothed grin at his friend. “I’ll text Izuku back from your phone.” He releases Katsuki’s arm and reaches for the abandoned device. He channels his inner Katsuki as he replies with two simple words “Fuck off.” This makes Katsuki laugh and laugh. Izuku replies with a string of crying face emojis - which just seems to add to the hilarity.

They continue giggling as they share a shower – hot steam on sore muscles, shampooed fingers running through thick hair. When Katsuki switches off the faucet signaling the end of the shower, Eijiro pulls the blonde into his arms and rests his face in the hollow of Katsuki’s neck. His brain can only muster a few simple words, but they reverberate over and over in his head: mine, all mine.

They towel each other off and change into a few of Eijiro’s oversized band t-shirts. Eijiro forces another glass of water down Katsuki’s throat before they end up back in bed, wrapped up in each other. It feels so natural, so safe. Katsuki’s phone continues to buzz in the background, alight with messages from their friends.

They both ignore it.

Katsuki yawns and whispers in a gravely voice: “I’m glad you wore that goddamn outfit tonight.”

Eijiro tucks himself into Katsuki’s arms and sighs in contentment. He gazes around the room where he had painstakingly chosen his new look mere hours earlier. Said outfit is currently lying in a heap on the floor alongside Katsuki’s discarded clothing.

He feels himself starting to drift off to sleep as he says “Yeah, man. Me too.”

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

Notes:

Ahhh I can't believe it's finally finished!! Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this fluffy spicy mlm fic!!

Check out my Master List for more fun, flirty & dirty fics!

XOXO,

RedRiotUnbreakableHeart ❤️