#both of my top songs are like 1 minute or less and i hate it. rip to my moonsorrow loops.
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yippeee
society if looping 1 minute long songs would count the same as looping 30 minutes songs for the same amount of time
anyway cult of the lamb sweep i guess
#both of my top songs are like 1 minute or less and i hate it. rip to my moonsorrow loops.#my top artist predictions i wrote down for myself were 100% correct btw with the same order as well lol#spotify wrapped 2024
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So, I started rewatching Community after a year or two and wow, I forgot so many things about this show:
Jeffannie started in season 1 during that debate episode and this makes me feel even more icky. Somehow I thought that this ship started at the end of season 1/beginning of season 2.
Jeffannie is so uncomfortable for me to watch. Not only is the age gap creepy, Annie is presented as this innocent girl while Jeff is Jeff. And yeah, as the series progresses, Annie matures but she's still so young and has her whole life ahead while Jeff is 40 and stuck at Greendale
Britta in season one was the best because she wasn't dumbed down and exaggerated. She had the same flaws as in later seasons (like her lack of real activism, terrible choice of boyfriends, being uncool etc.) but those flaws were believable and toned down to fit the rest of characters. I miss Britta
I forgot that they made Pierce horrible in season 2 onwards so it was a shock. In season one he has more redemptive moments
I miss season one and two of community the most. The show was still somewhat grounded and it made me think of my own college experiences (anthropology as shown in community was basically 80% of my real classes)
Senior Chang > any other Chang BUT that one episode of Guard Change is top ten for me ("Arizona backwards is Arizona!")
Abed was terrible to Troy in some episodes in season 3 (Blanket fort episode, stars doppelgangers episode) and doesn't face consequences/learn a lesson/start to appreciate Troy more. I like Abed but it still pisses me off
I feel that as the show progressed it was less about the main 7 and more about Annie and Jeff which sucks and I hate it
Also, Jeffbritta was the best. Are they toxic? Yes. Do they understand each other on a deep level and always help each other when needed? Also yes. I loved their bickering in the show and I always liked their little moments.
I forgot that Dean's Dalmatian fetish started in season one and progressed throughout the story
Paintball episodes are meh for me. Yes, all of them
"If loving worms is stupid then I don't want to be smart!" "It is and you can't!" I love this little exchange.
Idk, I noticed that sometimes some characters from main 7 appeared for like 1 minute in the whole episode. I know that you can't always have episode with all of them equally on the screen but idk it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Like the election episode which is basically all about Jeff and Annie. Pierce has like 5 lines and all are horrible, Troy and Abed are reduced to being announcers, Britta and Shirley basically don't exist (Britta also goes on stage and is ridiculed)
Idk they could have done more with Shirley
I also like the friendship between Britta and Shirley, the anarchist and atheist being friends with devoted Christian has so much potential
I was never fan of Troy and Britta together
Idk, on one hand Trobed is fine, but on the other hand showing a deep and profound friendship like that is also fine. I'm ok with both
Ass crack bandit song slaps and I love it
Out of all of the main seven, I don't like Annie the most (after season 2 onwards Pierce ofc). And I honestly can't tell if I don't like her that much because of the personality or because of her ship with Jeff
#community show#community nbc#britta perry#jeff winger#jeffbritta#anti jeffannie#shirley bennett#troy barnes#abed nadir#annie edison#pierce hawthorne#nbc community
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Death Goes to Disco Part 1
A/N: Female reader, this was long so I'm chopping it into two chapters. This ones ah a little more... less plausible than some of my other work but bear with me okay. Also this work may be named after a (honestly banging) song but does not fit it (much) lmao. oh yeah and yer got a callsign.
Summary: Second in command in Shadow Company you're someone that Graves can trust and rely on. Yet that trust is put to the test when he follows out his orders to betray both your ally's trust.
Word count: 4505
Warnings: Smut, angst
AO3 Masterlist Part 2
A curse left Graves's mouth as he grumbled away from Hassan. All that effort to get him, only to let him go. "Rough." You placed a hand on his shoulder. You had been silent the entire time, allowing the big fish to play.
"Two minutes, leave me alone with him for two minutes." He hissed towards you.
"That would be an act of war wouldn't it?" You hummed and felt for your pocket. Slowly you pulled out the lolly and undid it.
"Not if no one finds out about it." You stuck the lollipop in your mouth as you listened to him vent.
"At that point, I think it's just murder."
"Something people get away with on the daily."
"Want one?" You pulled it from your mouth and aimed it in his direction.
"Not today. Hate this by-the-book shit." He muttered and you shrugged.
"It be like that sometimes." The pair of you turned as you were approached. Soap, you had heard them call him.
"So who's this?" He flashed you a smile and your eyes glanced over to Ghost who hovered behind him.
"This here is my second in command. Lieutenant Co-"
"Tsk, hate it when you call me that." You aimed the candy at him and he laughed.
"Alright then, this here is Disco. Best shot I ever saw." He praised.
"I'm alright. Everyone has their bad days."
"Pleasure to meet you. You were up with tv right? Think I heard your voice once or twice." Soap had a relaxed expression on his face.
"Mm, not that I did much. I prefer my feet on solid ground." Your eyes glanced to Graves before you looked back towards Soap.
"Ah don't be like that, you're our good luck charm. Nothing goes wrong with you around." Graves slapped his hand on your shoulder and you let out a huff.
"Everyone has their bad days sir. I would say adequate planning, resources and skilful execution allowed us to do well today." When Graves went to open his mouth you cut him off. "Not your notion of good luck."
"Nothing's never gone wrong with you yet."
"Arguably that may be because you don't put me on risky work." You turned fully to face him.
"Well, you're here now."
"Would you call this work risky?" Soap's voice had you both turn to face him. You had to admit, it was a good question.
"I'd call this high consequences. Needs to be done once and done right. Speaking of, pack up Disco, we have work to do."
-
Rudy was an interesting guy had to admit. Yet he sucked at cards. The pair of you had hidden away in the corner up on top of a massive pile of crates in a hangar. "You have to be cheating." He sighed as you put your cards flat for him.
"Just lucky that's all. Got a good draw." You shrugged and pulled forwards the bullets you have been using as currency.
"What in the hell are you two doing up there?" It was Soap's voice that broke you both out of your game.
"Ah, losing horribly hermano."
"Wanna come join?" You gathered all the cards and flexed them in your hand. John paused for a moment then shrugged.
"Ah, why the hell not?" He climbed up and sat next to you. "Surprised you two don't have to get organised for the raid."
"That's gonna be at least two hours away, Shadows gotta get everything sorted out." You hummed and started to deal.
"Huh, don't you have to I don't know supervise them as a Lieutenant?"
"Nope." You popped your P. "They know what they're doing. Besides I'm more combat focused. All the transport and gear n shit isn't my area of expertise."
"Where is your expertise?" Rudy asked.
"Graves."
"Graves?" Soaps raised a brow.
"He doesn't like being told no or something can't be done. I deal with that shit. He hates hearing about problems. I deal with that. In all honesty, though, I'm no leader."
"You sound like you don't like being a Lieutenant." Rudy looked up as you sorted out the bullets.
"So far things normally go pretty well. Nothing I've been responsible for has gone wrong which means he's slowly been putting me onto a higher and higher pedestal. Not looking forward to the day it all goes to shit."
"Scared of being fired?" Soap asked and you paused and looked up from your cards to him.
"Scared for the consequences that will affect the people under my charge. Terrified for the lives that will be taken for any mistake I make. Graves was instant on promoting me." You sighed.
"If you could, where would you put yourself?" Rudy asked and he pushed forward some bullets.
"I think I'd like to go back to when I was a Sergeant. High enough for my opinion to matter but lower enough to not have that pressure."
"Is that what being a Sergeant for Graves is like?" Rudy asked.
"Oh- no that was um before I started working for Graves."
"You were in the Military before going to Shadow Company? He pays that well?"
"It was never about the money. I lost a lot of friends and needed a change of scenery. Eventually, I'll go back, when the time is right."
"I'm sorry for your loss. It's never easy." Soap offered.
"It's part of this life. I should be used to it by now."
"It's never easy losing the people you care about. It's what makes us human." Rudy smiled and for a moment the three of you shared that moment. A nice understanding.
A few minutes later Rudy slapped his cards down. "I give up, you have to be cheating." He started to get up and you let out a whine.
"Ah come on, it's just luck. One more round."
"Never playing with you again." He huffed but his voice wasn't too hard. Still with the light tone, he hopped off the crate.
"Ahhh Rudy, stay."
"Yeah, you might be a witness to me thrashing her." Soap offered and Rudy waved him off.
"I better go check in with Alejandro."
"Good luck!" You smiled as he waved and when you turned back Soap's eyes were on you. You paused, there was a certain look to them that had your breath hitch. Hungry. Yet the second he noticed your gaze it softened and resumed to normal.
You went to open your mouth when you come lit up.
"Disco."
"Yeah, boss?" You looked at the channel, it was your private channel with Graves. You made strong eye contact with Soap, just to see his reaction.
"This is your hour and a half warning. If you want to take one of your stupidly long baths. Now is the time." Soap looked down to the communicator before his entire head lift up with a laugh. You sighed and could feel a flush wash over your face.
"Thanks for the warning. Will do, sir." It fizzled to nothing.
"You take two hour-long baths?" Soap asked as you cleaned up the area.
"No I take hour baths, the half an hour is to get ready. But fucking Phillip forgot we aren't at home. Which means I don't even have a fucking bath to use." You rolled your eyes and Soap laughed.
"That being said the shower in my room does look pretty inviting." You started and you saw Soap wet the bottom of his lips. Moment of truth. "Would you like to join me?" You boldly asked and he cocked a brow in response.
Something flashed over his eyes for a moment and he paused. "I have a partner." Dread washed over you and you swallowed.
"Oh! I'm so sorry, I uh misread things don't worry about it." You looked away and started to get up. He grabbed your wrist.
"That's- uh it's a little more complicated than that. We have an agreement if well." He let out a sigh of frustration. "I'd like to join you, maybe not for a shower but maybe some fun. He likes to... watch." Soap cleared his throat.
"Oh, ohhhh. I see I uh. I've never done anything like that. Do you do this often?"
"Talked about it a few times but no one's taken us up on this."
"Huh, why? Who's your partner?"
"Ghost." He looked at you deadpan.
"Yeah okay." You immediately said without any hesitation. Soaps brows raised at your nonchalant expression.
"Just like that?"
"We are all adults, aren't we? If your relationships solid I'm fine for a little bit of blowing off steam." Soap let go of your wrist at your answer and went for his communicator.
"Hey LT where you at?"
-
Outside of your door, you had a lollipop in your mouth while the pair of you waited for Ghost. "You look nervous as hell, don't need to be shy because of me." You leaned against your door.
"Not you that I'm nervous of."
"Ghost?"
"Yeah I mean we have talked in depth about this. If we wanted to ever do anything with a woman, spice it up."
"Scary going through with it?"
"Yeah."
"If it makes you feel better. It's not my first time doing something similar to this."
"Been with a couple before?"
"No, but had a third once. It was a pair of twins. They were identical and did everything together. Almost like a hive mind."
He laughed at your recollection. "How did that go?"
"Fun for the first time. The third time? Got a bit weird."
"Why was that?"
"Their older sibling wanted to get involved. Heard great things about this tongue of mine."
"Yeah?" His eyes glanced down to your mouth.
"Shame is that they just happened to be my CO's ex."
"Shit."
"Yeah, all I could think about was the one time I caught my CO blackout drunk crying over 'em. Never saw any of them again after that." The lollipop made a decent sound when you popped it out of your mouth. "Least I get a good story out of it."
"Is that what you're looking to get tonight?" You swore you could feel another pair of eyes on you as John spoke but when you turned towards the direction, nothing.
You looked back toward Soap and pointed your candy towards him. "I'm looking for this cunt of my mine to get fucking destroyed. The exact specifications are up to you. Considering we are still at work I presumed it was a mutual unsaid agreement that this would all be kept between the three of us."
"Glad we're on the same page." He took your hand and slowly brought it towards his mouth. The pink lollipop passed between his lips and gave a decent suck on it before it popped out of his mouth once more.
"I didn't say you could have that." His lips curled up on his face as you pulled it back from him.
"Oops."
"Better take back what's mine then." You pushed your lips against his. A groan was muffled against your lips and John returned it. The sweet taste of your candy mixed with the taste of him that you had to admit was one of the best flavour combinations you had ever had. Trapped between him and the door, his body pressed against you firmly and your arms hung around the back of his neck.
He felt for the door nob and suddenly pushed it open. John grabbed your legs and lift them up around his waist. He smiled against your lips and slowly started to carry you towards your bed. All the while the sound of your constant wet kisses filled the room.
It was subtle and barely noticeable. The door clicked behind the pair of you and the lollipop was taken from your hand. It was just enough to gain your attention. Your lips broke away from Soap and you panted slightly for air. Not one to stop, he found the side of your neck and started to kiss down it, sucking on your skin.
You pushed his head into your neck with your hand while you threaded your fingers through the thick hair of his Mohawk. Over his shoulder, your eyes found the dark figure in the spare chair in your room. Ghost. Completely silent, he sat rather comfortably. His legs were spread and his ankle rested on his knee. The mask on his face was lifted up ever so slightly and you noticed the small white stick that stuck out.
His eyes roamed not only over Johnny but you. It had an idea form into your mind as his eyes soon locked with yours. With your gear already gone, it was rather easy for John to remove your shirt. Then your bra.
A moan stifled in your throat and your eyes closed when John kissed down your chest and sat down on the bed. Now faced away from Ghost, you were mounted on Soap's lap. Soap's hands found the base of your ass where he started to grab at the tightness of your pants and roll your hips against him.
"Fucken gorgeous you are." He mumbled against your skin only to whine when you pushed away from him and got off his lap.
"Shirt off Sergeant." You took a few steps away from him, aware of both sets of eyes that were on you. John started for a moment before you spoke up again. "Don't make me ask twice." You could see the strain in his already tight pants and he breathed out before he ripped the shirt over his head.
"Good boy." The praised has his eyes lids hood for a moment and his throat bob.
Your fingers went to your pants and popped them over. Leaning forward slightly, you pushed them off giving Ghost a perfect view.
With your black underwear still on, you settled down onto your knees in front of Soap and undid his pants. His cock quite literally sprung free when you pushed away his briefs. Pre cum had already started to settle on the tip and he let out a hiss when your hand spread it.
"Been a while since I've seen one as pretty as yours." You kissed the tip before your lips wrapped around it. Soap let out a long choked moan and his hand snapped to the back of your head.
Your mouth popped off his cock and you looked up to him. "I didn't say you could touch now did I? Be a good boy and sit there for me." His eyes met yours and made a small nod and let go of your head. Soaps hands found the sheets on your bed and balled into them when you resumed.
Each bob of your head had you going just a little bit deeper, the curvature of his cock making it a little hard to swallow down your throat.
Your throat couldn't keep the abuse up forever though. It constricted around him as you choked for a moment. A loud moan fell from Soap's mouth and his head tilted back and slightly bucked up into your mouth. He was twitching, throbbing inside of you.
At his disobedience, you ripped your mouth off only to lick from his base all the way to the tip of his cock. "Getting a little carried away were we?" You pushed up off the ground to his whimper. Behind him, you crawled onto the bed. The tips of your nails racked down the front of his bare chest as you pressed your chest against his back. Soap's head fell back against you as you nibbled down the side of his throat.
"What do you want? Use your words."
"You, oh fuck I need to be inside of you." In reward, you pressed kisses against him and gave a light tug on his nipple that had him curse out to your amusement.
"You know…" Your voice trailed off when you crawled off the bed and stalked to the front. You gave John a short kiss before you turned around and placed your legs over his. Spread apart you grabbed his cock and settled it just between your folds while he gripped onto you almost bruisingly hard. It was obvious he was holding himself back.
"I may be borrowing John here for today from you. But that doesn't mean I don't mind sharing. I'm sure I can handle the both of you." Your eyes looked up and for the first time in a while, all attention was on Ghost.
Obviously affected, his hand has settled to rest over his cock. Even in his pants, you could see the long outline against his leg. It was an open offer, if he didn't want to participate, that was up to him. Yet it told him exactly everything he needed to know if he wanted to. Under you, you slipped John's cock inside and sat down properly.
"Fucking hell." You looked over your shoulder, your hand on his chin and kissed his lower lip. With his eyes shut and mouth open, you couldn't deny it was a beautiful sight.
"You may touch." You whispered and his eyes snapped open. Soaps arms wrapped around your waist and he used his grip there as an anchor to start thrusting up into you.
His eyes were locked onto yours as your moans mixed with his and the wet sound of cock spreading you wide. One hand reached up to your breast and placed his entire hand over it. Palming it, Soap's cock twitched inside of you and his head fell forward.
Only when another presence was felt did you turn. Facing forward, your eyes wet met this Ghost's torso in front of you. You had to crane your neck up to make eye contact with him. He was tall. Really tall. His gloves hand came to your throat. Right away you knew you wouldn't be able to control him like you did with John.
"You think you can handle both Johnny and I."
"I know I can."
"We'll see." His free hand went to his pants and undid it without looking down.
"Mask stays on?" You asked and you could hear John chuckle lightly behind you.
"Always," Soap answered and you shrugged.
"Your choice, are you going to be showing us that chest of yours. Or is it cock only?" Your brow raised. Silently Ghost removed his shit and you were greeted with his strong chest and the sleeve of tattoos on his arm.
"Nice piece of art."
"Isn't he?" Soap grinned in your ear and looked over your shoulder. He seemed almost proud to be showing off Ghost to you.
"She meant the tattoo Soap." He made eye contact with him and John's eyes fell on his arm.
"Ah, right." Hesitantly, you let go of Soap and settled your hands on Ghost's thighs. "Don't worry, he doesn't bite. Masks like a muzzle." He pressed a kiss against your throat and side-eyed Ghost.
Your hands undid his pants while he stroked the side of your throat with his thumb. Right, where your artery was. Ghost allowed you to pull his cock from his pants and you could feel the blood drain from your face. Happily still and buried inside of your cunt Soap could feel the way you clenched around him at the sight.
"He's big, isn't he? Was a long night the first time I took him."
"Still sure?" Ghost's hand went from your throat to your cheek and rubbed it ever so gently with his thumb.
"Maybe not."
"Ah no one's blaming you, he is stupidly big-" Soap started before you interrupted him.
"-In this position. On the bed Soap. You in front of me big boy." You climbed off John and dragged him onto the bed behind you. Soap let out a laugh at your enthusiasm and soon slid back inside of you from behind. The pair of you moaned together and John pressed his face into your neck.
"Fuck your so tight, no idea how you're going to handle the both of us." Ghost found his place in front of you. With his pants now removed, he settled on the bed and lift your leg up to give him that perfect angle.
Ghost's finger went to your cunt and swiped a decent amount of your juices. He pulled the now empty plastic stick from his mouth and placed it on your side table. He replaced it with his finger and let out a hum. "Johnny." The finger slipped from under his mask and repeated the action. This time instead of his own mouth, he pushed it into John's mouth. Still slick with his saliva.
"Mmm, now that's a good-tasting cunt you got there. If we'd had more time…" Soap trailed off. Your eyes met Ghosts and you grabbed his cock to line it up with your already stuffed cunt.
"So wet but will it be enough?" Soap hummed and you put the tip of the cock at your entrance.
"Go for it."
A chorus of moans was drawn from all three of you as Ghost pushed in. Your cunt greedily accepted him until he was completely buried inside, both of them pressed together.
"You actually took us." There was amazement in Soap's voice, slightly hazed out.
"You doubted me?" You tried to sound smug but it ended up coming out as a small whine. "I know my limit, now. Move." Ghost's grip on your leg tightened and his eyes twitched slightly before he slipped back and then slammed himself back into you.
The action had a ripple effect among the pair of you. John started to move with him, slipping out when Ghost thrust in. A perfect synchronisation that had you holding onto Ghost's shoulders for dear life.
The feeling of them both being inside. It was unlike anything you had ever had before. You could feel both of them so distinctly, the long thick vein that ran up Ghost's cock, the curvature of Soap's cock that had it straining against Ghost's. The way both of them pulsed and throbbed inside. Never had you been so full of cock. They were overwhelming, delicious, perfect. Never in a million years would you accurately be able to describe the pure pleasure the pair of them brought you, fucking into you.
Then came John's hand on your clit. With a cry you clenched down on their cocks, whimpering and panting out as you clenched around them. Together they lowly groaned. Soap swore and lightly bit your shoulder as your cunt milked him of all his cum. Overcome by your cunt clenching him through his orgasm it was impossible to hold back. A reaction that tipped Ghost over the edge and joined the pair of you in ecstasy. Slowly Ghost lowered your leg and you all lay there like that together.
Time ticked away and the two men cuddled up towards you rather content. Your eyes fell on the side table clock. You had about forty minutes before you would need to leave.
Despite the two men's sleepy protests, you wriggled free from them with the intent to go shower. At first, you were a little sore but when the warm water washed over you, you couldn't help but almost feel energised. It was like they had washed away all the stress that had been building up over the last couple of years. You felt like a new woman.
Out of the shower and all cleaned up. Your eyes glanced towards the two men still asleep in the bed. In your absence, they had found each other. Ghost despite being the far larger man, had cuddled up to Soap with his head on Soap's chest. John had an arm wrapped around Ghost while their legs tangled together. The display was cute and heartwarming. Yet, it also made you painfully aware of their relationship. It was obvious that they cared about each other. A lot. The content smiles on each other's faces, the way they were so comfortable- so in love. It made you a little envious. In the end, you were an outsider. Someone lucky enough to spend an hour or so intruding upon that relationship.
Your eyes cast down as you got dressed. It was clear from the beginning. This was just a bit of fun. You knew that you would all finish up this work with the missiles and never see each other again. Perhaps it would be kinder for you. With your shirt now on, you set an alarm for about twenty minutes. It should give them enough time to shower and get dressed. In the meanwhile, you left your room.
-
The mission went well. Really well. Soon you found yourself on the ride back to the base. Until you were stopped. A little confused you got out of the car and subtly Graves handed you his pistol. "Boss, what's going on?" You whispered.
"New orders, bare with me here." Your eyes glanced over to Alejandro, Soap and Ghost.
You could feel your heart race as Graves continued on. As things started to escalate. How did you not know about this? Why hadn't he told you about this?
"Disco." There was an accusation in Soap's voice. Venom. Hatred. A look you couldn't handle. You glanced down under his gaze.
"Now now, she's not dealing with this. I am. But if you want her input I'm sure she would be a lot happier if you boys stand down." Graves glanced at you for a moment.
"I would prefer if no one got hurt." You swallowed out.
"See, this can all resolve peacefully."
"Peacefully? Peacefully? My men are in there!" Alejandro took a step towards them. He was right, you had no idea what happened to his men.
"Your men have been… detained." All hell came loose and soon Alejandro was knocked out beside you. To your right, the Shadows were killed by Ghost and everyone's attention was on Johnny.
"Johnny go!" Ghost's voice came while Graves shot at the man. You, however, were still on the side with Ghost. He turned and was met with your eyes. The pistol raised in your hands. He didn't move. For a split second, the pair of you stared at each other. He didn't go for his knife. You didn't shoot. The image of his soft closed eyes asleep on your borrowed bed flashed before your eyes and you lowered the gun. "Go." Almost silent. There was no way he could have heard it but he certainly read in on your lips. Ghost didn't hesitate and dashed away from the vehicle into the night.
Slowly attention went off John and Graves was focused on Ghost. "He's already gone, sir. He was too fast for me." The lie came out of your lips perfectly. Just the right amount of disappointment and frustration in your voice to sound believable. With no other witness and no reason to question your loyalty, Graves accept it and swore out.
#ghost x reader x soap#ghost x reader#soap x reader#mw2 x reader#cod x reader#modern warfare 2#simon riley#johnny mctavish
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Hi!! I saw the character ask thing and was wondering if you would answer for Megumi? :D Questions 1-15 (if you feel up to it)!! <3 I literally love him so much and ik from your blog that you do too ! :) (btw loving your itafushi week works!! 🖤)
hiii thank you for the ask and im glad youre loving my itafushi week fics :3 hope youre doing well !!
1. Why do you like or dislike this character?
i looooveeee everything abt him tbh, but i think probably the thing that makes me the most fond of him is that he reminds me a lot of myself in the way he processes things and makes decisions, sorting them into good or bad
2. Favorite canon thing about this character?
hmmm idk if it’s my top fav thing abt him but i love his technique and the way he uses it. especially the shadow inventory and when he stores himself in it? so cool. ig its more when he sets his mind to it, he’s crazy powerful. underrated fr.
3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?
i cant say im a fan of the position he’s in but at the same time i appreciate the narrative choice. wouldn’t ask for things to change, i just wish he was suffering less.
4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?
i’ve been writing him in a tokyo ghoul crossover fic recently if that counts
5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?
rn…avalanche by bring me the horizon
6. What's something you have in common with this character?
a lot tbh….lets go w we’re both more reserved, a bit avoidant, and keep our feelings hidden 88% of the time (the right person can see through)
7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?
i love when ppl show him as like. the type to subtly show he cares like acts of service type and then he acts like nothing happened. canon. to me.
8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?
WHEN THEY HATE HIM FOR NO REASON & BLAME HIM FOR THE EVENTS OF JJK LIKE THATS SO WRONG & INCORRECT HES JUST A KID DOING HIS BEST AND MOST OF YHE PPL SHITTING ON HIM WOULDNT LAST TWO MINUTES AS HIM. or when they make mahoraga jokes that are just tasteless, midgumi, potential man, nah i’d give up….im in your walls
9. Could you be roommates with this character?
like. if i had to yeah. we both prefer our own space so it could probably work but it also might be a bit awkward. gonna go with if we were already friends before we became roommates, yes. if not, then no bc neither of us would ever speak, and you gotta be able to communicate w your roommates
10. Could you be best friends with this character?
yes, if there was a “facilitator” friend. like we need the local extrovert to get us to hang out first or we’d never even become acquainted
11. Would you date this character?
no. one he’s a minor two i dont like men like that
12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?
recently i have been writing abt bassist megumi, so im thinking he air guitars while he’s listening to music when hes alone in his room. or air drums maybe. won’t sing along out loud bc the walls are thin, but if he did, he’d have a nice voice.
13. What's an emoji, an emoticon and/or any symbol that reminds you of this character or you think the character would use a lot?
i think he would not use emojis or emoticons when texting but maybe he’d adopt the ‘:)’ bc yuuji kept asking if he was mad (gojo would also ask, but megumi’s not gonna change his habits for that). ( ̄^ ̄)ゞ but this is megumi
14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.
basic but color coordinated, baggy, no patterns, mostly darker colors (black, green, & blue - royal blue not navy). sweaters & jackets most of the time w jeans or just regular pants. he’s cold easily so wears this in the summer too. getting rid of his canon shoes and giving him vans or doc martens oxfords.
15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)
ITAFUSHI <3333333333 I LOVE THEM SO MUCH its like. semi not normal but idc.
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10/5/23: It was 50 years ago today, October 5th, 1973, Elton John released his seventh album Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. So I wrote already a paragraph about this record, but it got lost when my computer just decided to start screaming... not sure what happened, but I'm sure it's related to my refusal to upgrade to Windows II. Anywho, starting over, this record, a double-album, is certainly a top five best album of 1973... even most of the deep cuts are from at worst listenable to at best near classics. We'll start with the four U.S. Top 40 songs first, as I won't cover them by the time this blog is over... let's start with the #1 song 'Bennie and the Jets'... wow... I think at one point in my 1990s days of hating everything un-ironic, I did not like this song... but it drew me back in like Michael Corleone. Such a unique tune too, as it's pretty simple and kind of empty throughout... easy thumpy beat, random crowd noises, Elton on piano and organ... then he hits that falsetto 'BENNIE!"... I mean c'mon! Oh yeah, I was going to say that this album has aged very well... like there's nothing really embarrassing here (except maybe the title of a certain ska song we'll get to). After 'Bennie', the title track was huge too... kind of a ballad, but such a memorable tune... it would reach #2. Then we have the controversial pick... what I mean is, do we like the original 'Candle In the Wind' which kind of rocks a little, or, do we go with the in-concert 1988 version that became an MTV hit, OR, do we recognize the elephant in the room and go with the 1997 version that replaces MM with Princess Diana. Fuck all that, sorry. The original destroys the other ones, and fuck you if you think otherwise... that newer shit is sentimental garbage, and in a way taking advantage of an accidental death. Yes, I feel passionate about this, because 'Candle' fit MM just so well, and it was done so tastefully. My opinion, fine, but I'm mad that it's even an issue. The song would originally reach #6... you can look up the 'reboots'. Okay! And then the 'rockin' song on the record is 'Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting'... I can remember being a kid and getting EJ's first greatest hits on cassette and this song was probably, along with 'Rocket Man', the main reason I got it. I wore that cassette out... and at the same time, wore out my enthusiasm for 'Saturday', but it's making a comeback in my mind. It's totally a fun song, straight up. Now let's talk about the other bangers... opening up Sir Elton's magnum opus is the 11-minute short suite 'Funeral For a Friend / Love Lies Bleeding'... honestly it really doesn't get going until about five minutes in, although for those first five minutes it's like Elton invited EL&P over to play a ballad... still great! And the rest of the song just fucking rocks... I rarely heard this on KSHE but I did... that's the only way I could have possibly known it before hearing the record. Now there are songs on this album that I did not know prior to exploring... some early deep cuts are the very-1973 sounding 'Grey Seal'... not only is this my favorite track on both records, it is a second or third runner-up to my favorite EJ song... I mean it's like he kicked out EL&P and brought in Steely Dan. That's the only way I can describe it... it's polished, but still raw somehow. Same goes for 'All the Young Girls Love Alice'... a much darker-in-theme rocker, but no less powerful. Okay the only kinda dumb thing about this record is the terrible title 'Jamaica Jerk-Off'... really, Elton (or should I say really Bernie T.)...? It makes me further annoyed because the song is kinda cool! It's not some Zeppelin attempt at faux-reggae, it's actually just plain ol' ska... it's very cool! Okay, since this is a double-album let's run down the rest: 'The Ballad of Danny Bailey' and the last track 'Harmony' are both very good semi-ballads... the rest of the tracks scattered area all just fine, but are only slightly above filler. Overall, though, holy dogshit this is an outstanding record. LISTEN NOW!!
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no way 😭😭😭 that’s very nerophobic!!! but english breakfast out of your spidey mug before rewatching tasm sounds like a perfect plan
of course i do!! your stories always make my days and i feel like i’ve just been in sydney and danced to stray kids live with you!!! and i’m so happy it goes both ways <3
noooo and you missed that??? 😭😭 i wanna move to sydney now and be in a city full of rainbows and drag queens that make me feel at home 🥺
single seats?? that’s genius!!! i would always sit there. when i was still going to uni i always took the train, put my headphones on and sleep, only to be woken up like 20 minutes later by a screaming kid going to school and usually also hitting me in the head with its backpack as they sat down 😭
that’s great!! i’m very much like you about this, i always rot on the couch for hours after i get off from work. i just have to. (yeah okay maybe you’re right)
i’m sure your body needed it so much, it was a tiring day and the heatstroke definitely helped make you feel even more tired. (and i’m glad it helped a little. birthdays can suck, but i was hoping to make you smile a bit with a rainbow biscoff cake and i’m glad it did <3)
so true 😭😭😭 also picture me going to search “rina sawayama merch” because i was way too curious and it’s gorgeous!!! that fuck what they did to britney, lady di and whitney top is iconic!!! and honestly i could listen to you talk about rina for hours and days. i am the same when i’m walking around in louis tomlinson merch :D and don’t even get me started on when people compliment and recognise my tattoos!!! i love it when people see my tatts and recognise the book quotes or the song it was from. then they regret ever speaking to me because yeah i will keep them talking for hours hehe
great, blind tasting it is 😂 i’m curious now, i want to know if you ever find this recipe 😂 of course i would ;)
yess!!! you can always have a rare books bookstore and it definitely needs to be visited all the time. next time you get to sydney you should bring a suitcase just to fill it books from that bookstore :)) and it’s so true, bookstores always tell a lot about cities, i feel like i’m always walking through the history of the city when i’m in a bookstore. also uni books piling on the floor is a much less fun image than amazing rare books on the floor :’)
no way the 1975??? that concert is going to be so awesome 😻😻😻 and another one in may would be so awesome too hehe you know our bank accounts are meant to hate us for all these concerts but they make us happy 🥺
uhh i’m so here for a signed copy hehe
that’s amazing!!! that’s exactly what concert videos are for!!!
aw i love that you’re always my n.1 supporter in spending a lot of money :)
animals are just <333333
all these songs live must have been perfect!!! and yes of course i’d love to have a list of your favs!! i’d love to have like the perfect playlist!!! and cardigan my beloved 😭 that song breaks me all the time, also exile and this is me trying. god those songs are so good, i love them. and i bet those notes are amazing 😂
aww a teddy bear!!! i’m hugging you right back and giving you a warm blanket and fuzzy pillow <33333
hello cece my beautiful wonderful beloved soulmate <3
i hope you have been well and looking after yourself! i don’t want you overworking yourself 😭 but it has been two days since i have come back from my trip (i have been exhausted plus i had work and uni to catch up on) so now i am going to sit down and tell you about my trip!! please grab a cup of tea and a snack while you read :)
so i went to sydney again, and i had a much more enjoyable experience this time around. i think it was because i knew what i was getting into, and i stayed in the exact same place, so it was all familiar to me.
although i did try to use the public transport this time, instead of ubering everywhere, and the buses were so bad, but the trains were INCREDIBLE! they were double decker and the back support moved so you could have a single row or two rows of seats face each other??? SO COOL
anyways, me and my friend caught the train to the airport at 4am in the morning 😭😭😭 (and i finished work at 12am!!!!) to get our flight. once we landed in sydney, my friend wanted to get merch from the early presale stand outside the arena and we were outside in 30 degree heat FOR TWO HOURS, with our luggage. good news, my birthday is coming up and my friend didn’t know what to get me, so he bought half my merch 🤭 bad news, i’m ginger and i get sunburnt in two minutes, so think about two hours… the worst thing is we had an umbrella for sun protection, but my right arm and the back of my neck was out so they were FRIED. i’m currently peeling like a reptile but worth it
we got some food from maccas because we were dehydrated and getting heat stroke, and then checked into our room after we managed to get our stuff. we both ended up napping in the afternoon, which we were both surprised about, because i had my phone in my hand still attached to the charger next to my bed and he still had his genshin impact loaded up onto his ipad 😭😭😭
unfortunately the place i wanted to take him to for dinner, the really good japanese place from last time, was under renovation, so we had dinner elsewhere but we had such a good time the rest of our trip
because we went to see stray kids, a kpop group, we had a lot of activities we could indulge in. they had this thing called a cupsleeve event, where someone in the fandom designs a cupsleeve to represent a kpop idol’s birthday, group anniversary or in our case, coming to the city. and i got so many freebies! we went to this kpop store that doubled as a cafe and the drinks were so good! i bought way too much but i have to remind myself that i can’t get it at home 😔
we also went to the biggest bookstore i have ever seen in my life! it took up a whole floor of the shopping centre and it was brilliant. it had books upon books, categories after categories. they even had an entire chinese and japanese section! i also spent a lot of money there BUT my best find was the entire completed infernal devices manga trilogy!! it’s so beautiful and such a rare find, i grabbed it immediately. i couldn’t find the tmi graphic novels though, but they have them on their website, so i might order them in :)
alright, the main event! the concerts! so i went and saw the kpop group, stray kids, two nights in a row! it was amazing. i was and still am a huge fan of their work, but especially because they got me through a really hard time in my life and really were my serotonin while i was at school 😔 i wasn’t allowed to see them when they first came here four years ago (parents: maybe next year, they’ll come! *next year being 2020.*) so i feel like i finally made up for it.
me and my friend also matches outfits! we did black and green (the concert colours) on the first night, and red and white on the second (to match the stray kids colours). i wish i could send you photos, we looked so slay 🤩
i do not have one concert video without me screaming the lyrics (yeah the korean ones too!) in the back. but i don’t care, it was so fun, i had a blast. and it was even better because two of the members of stray kids were from sydney and they just made it feel more homely :) do not regret how much money i spent on them or the sleep i lost at all! i’m so glad i can slowly start to give myself the experiences i missed out on as a kid/teenager :’)
anyways, enough about me! how have you been? what have you been up to? how is simba? 🥺 i adore you so much and i am enclosing this letter with a warm hug <3333
hello nero my amazing perfect beloved soulmate <3
yay i’m so happy to finally hear about this trip!!! i just made myself a cup of tea and brought out some biscoff cream!!
how was the catching up part?? did you manage to catch up without exhausting yourself too much??
nero that’s so great!! i think that having a familiar surrounding is always helpful, and staying in the same place makes it all less scary somehow. i’m really happy it went much better!!
NO WAY THEY HAVE THOSE TRAINS THERE??? they look so cool!!! i’ve seen them on instagram once and i was so jealous of every city who had those trains!! you can literally choose if you want to sit alone or have company and that’s so cool!!! it’s basically a buildable environment!!! i’m getting way too excited about this lol
so you only had like three hours of sleep?? 😭😭😭😭 and you even had to stand in the heat for hours 😭😭😭 but yay!!! merch!!! that’s a really great birthday gift!!! (also when is your birthday??? only if you want to share of course <3)
anyway merch is so amazing and so expensive. this has got to be one of the best presents ever!!! even if it means you’re skinning like a reptile now lol at least it’s just two small spots instead of your whole self 😂 but i get the struggle. i’m not ginger but my skin is so light i always get sunburnt in 0.5 seconds too. definitely not fun, but worth it for some merch :D
that was probably a really fun situation to wake up to, but you both deserved a nap for catching a bus at 4am!!! especially since you had only a few hours of sleep after work!! at least you were rested enough to really enjoy the trip!!
oh no 😭😭 i’m still dreaming about that place!! i went to a my favorite japanese restaurant in my city a few days ago and i really wanted to try that beverage you told me about but i was driving so i couldn’t 😭 i hope this other restaurant was really good too though!!
no way!!! nero this is all way too cool!!! i’m so happy it was so fun and there were so many things to do!!! also this cupsleeves event sounds so cool!! i’m so happy nero, you’re making my day just by telling me about all these freebies and amazing drinks!! and you know i’m always gonna be the little devil on your shoulder telling you that spending money is good and you deserve all that amazing stuff :))
the tid manga trilogy??? how is that even possible omg you can’t find that anywhere!!!! i’m so jealous, i wanna live in this bookstore now 🥺 it’s got to be so amazing!! (you always find the best bookstores, i had no doubt there would be one in this letter too and i was so excited to read about it!!) and let me know if you do order the tmi graphic novels!! i’ve been trying to collect those too hehe
the fact that *next year* was 2020 is so painful. but you saw them two nights in a row!!! that’s amazing!! and it must have been so good to see them after so long, after they’d been by your side in a really tough time 🥹 i’m so happy you got to finally see them live!!
also, the matching outfits?? I LOVE THAT!!! i bet you looked so slay!!! that’s literally the best idea for what to wear to a concert!!!
nero i’m so so happy for you!!! you’ve made my whole day, i’m not even joking!! i’m so happy you’re finally getting to enjoy trips and concerts you couldn’t before!! and this one really sounded so perfect!!! also the videos with you screaming at the top of your lungs to every song are literally the best. i love it when i rewatch a video from a concert and i can hear myself screaming and crying and dying more than i can hear the band or the singer. it just makes me live all those memories and those amazing feelings again!!!
the money spent on this is totally worth it!!! and you can sleep now, uni can wait lol really nero i’m so happy this trip was so good!!! i’m so happy for you!!!
i’m good!! i got three days off from work this week so that was great, and i started to reread chain of iron so that i can reread chain of thorns right after :) i miss them so much already 🥲
anyway i just booked a trip for may, because a friend is coming to visit me and i’m gonna be off work for two weeks so i’m really looking forward to it and now i just wanna skip work and plan the itinerary 😂 and i want to book more trips too. which isn’t great because my bank account is already crying and begging me to stop buying stuff. did i tell you i got the illumicrate edition of chain of thorns with the alternative dust jackets? yeah so my bank account still hasn’t forgiven me for it :,)
simba is also doing really good, he’s eating a lot and sleeping a lot as usual 😌
also, ever since you told me about the rina sawayama concert, and because you always talked so much about her, i kinda started listening to her music a lot more and i’m obsessed with some songs now!!! i adore her style so thank you for this new obsession :>
i’m enclosing a warm hug for you too and a little bouquet of flowers <3
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Hate the Club
BC
Masterlist
wc: 7.8k
Synopsis: Seeing your ex at the club is one thing, letting him take you home after he broke your heart is another.
warnings: smut, sub!chan/service top!chan, dom!reader, one or two mentions of blood, unprotected sex (wrap it up people), um I can't remember this isn't really proofread
Part 1 of my 8 part series based off the album, "It Was Good Until It Wasn't" by Kehlani, where each member of Stray Kids will have a song dedicated to them and whatever toxic relationship I can come up with.
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Nightclubs aren’t the place to rekindle a relationship, nor are they the place you go to when you’re wanting peace and quiet. Which is exactly what you wanted for the first time in months since your breakup. Clubs are meant to drown out whatever feelings that a person didn’t want to feel, suffocate them in alcohol and booming EDM music so that all you feel is the bass in your chest. If your friends had asked you six months ago if you wanted to go to the club, you would’ve jumped at the opportunity to feel anything other than Chan’s absence in your bed. But now, you’ve started healing and began to be okay sitting in silence with yourself, finally sleeping on his side. So when your friend found herself feeling the way you did after your breakup, you couldn’t tell her no when she said she wanted to go clubbing.
You didn’t meet Chan at the club, moreso at the restaurant down the street where you went after your friends needed some fresh air and food in their stomach. You found yourself dressing in something similar to that night, instead of a black cut out bodycon dress you wore a black latex miniskirt and a cropped corset that had a point at the center of your stomach to cinch the waist, a black mesh undershirt with puffed sleeves and a steep, rounded neckline underneath to make you feel less exposed. Though you wore the same kitten heels, if you needed to make a run for it they were easy to take off, you always thought. Chan thought that was funny when you explained it to him at the restaurant, the restaurant you were now passing on the street with your arm linked around your friends’. She caught you eyeing it and said, “we don’t have to come here tonight. I can tell the others we couldn’t make it.”
This made you whip your head back around and shake at her, “no! We need this, you need this. Guess it’s time to get back on the horse, or… whatever.” She laughed and pulled your arm tighter as you walked up to the front of the club. She texted the others you were supposed to meet here to let them know you were outside, a couple of minutes later your friend Minho peaked his head out from behind the bouncer. “Ah, there you two are. Took you long enough,” he cheered. Minho patted his hands on the bouncer’s shoulders as if they were childhood friends, “they’re with me.” Giving both of you a hug, he took your hand and you took your friend’s as he led you inside.
Of course it was packed on a Saturday night, tons of people crowding the bar and the dance floor. Thankfully, you had Minho. His social status amongst the nightlife people was rather high on the list, somehow always getting a booth and bottle service like tonight. Besides Minho, Hyunjin and Jeongin were already seated around. They cheered as they saw the three of you enter, clearly already on the road to getting plastered. They put you and your friend between the three of them and handed you drinks. “You need to catch up,” Jeongin said in your ear over the loud music and continued to refill your glass after every down.
“We’re supposed to be getting her wasted tonight, not me,” you laughed and pointed at your friend who was sporting two cups of liquid, Hyunjin handing her another one.
“I think with the current information I have, you’re gonna want it,” he said in a more serious tone. You could only see his face every few seconds when the strobe lights passed over him, Jeongin smiled at you sympathetically as he gripped the neck of the champagne bottle tighter. You raised an eyebrow at him, urging him to continue. “They didn’t want me to say anything, but I think it’s better you’re prepared before you get completely shitfaced.”
“Jesus, just spit it out,” you nudged his arm. Neither of your three other friends were paying attention, too busy cheering Minho on as he wrangled another bottle.
“Chan’s here.” Your eyes went wide for a split second before regaining your composure. Without saying anything else, you grabbed the half full bottle from Jeongin’s hands and drank straight from it. Though your friend didn’t know of what Jeongin had just told you, she whooped and whoo-hoo’d as you downed it as quickly as possible. Jeongin sat beside you in awe. “Where?” you asked, unsure if you really wanted to know. He didn’t reply, only opting to look across the section. You followed his gaze and saw him, sitting at the end of the booth next to two of his friends whom you were all well acquainted with, Changbin and Jisung. The two seemed to be having fun conversing with the girls that sat at the other end of the booth, while your ex boyfriend looked… bored.
You didn’t mean to stare, but after six months of not seeing him or hearing anything about how he was doing, you couldn’t help it. It was like he knew you were there, because he soon turned his head and looked directly at you, meeting your eyes. Chan stopped his leg bouncing as you held the stare, wanting to see all of him. He was wearing the white button up that you loved so much on him, black jeans that hugged his lovely physique. While you took him in, his eyes didn’t stray from yours. After seconds that felt like an eternity, you broke the contact and reached for another unopened bottle that sat in a bucket of ice on the table, cracking it open and wanting to chug like no tomorrow. Jeongin caught you before you could drink more than a third, “maybe slow it down a bit.”
The rest of your friends seemed to have caught wind of what had just happened because now all four of them were looking at you like an injured puppy. “I’m fine, swear. I just… let’s dance,” you grabbed Jeongin’s hand before any of them could retort and hauled him out of the booth towards the dance floor. You didn’t need to see Chan’s face to know he watched every second of the beginning of your downward spiral.
Jeongin let you lead him to the middle and stand behind you while your friend came to your front. Minho and Hyunjin followed, though staying closer to your friend as they watched you grab Jeongin’s hands and place them on your hips. You began to sway, the alcohol finally catching up to you and pulling your friend closer so you were sandwiched between her and Jeongin. The music continued to boom, you couldn’t hear Minho and Hyunjin snickering at the three of you, but you definitely felt Chan’s eyes watching. You wanted him to watch, wanted him to see you didn’t need him to feel alive. He wasn’t your lifeline anymore, but you were still his.
Things happened in a blur, unsure of when your other three friends left the dance floor so it was just you and Jeongin, pressed together tightly with his chest to your back. You could feel the bump in his pants against your butt, but didn’t pay much attention to it until he spun you around and lifted your arms around his neck. Leaning down, he whispered in your ear, “I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or him watching, but I know you want to make him jealous. Am I right?” You nodded. “Are you sure?” Another nod. Jeongin pulled back from your ear to look at your face, reading for any signs of disagreement.
All it took for him to lean down and hastily press his lips to yours was the tug of your hands on the back of his hair, pulling him closer. It wasn’t the kind of kiss you were used to, it was rough and sloppy and all too new. There were some minor teeth clashes and lots of tongue, smearing your lipstick everywhere. Jeongin’s hands firmly kept your front against his crotch. With one more tug of your bottom lip between his teeth, you pulled away out of breath. You weren’t sure how you felt, the alcohol made you dizzy.
Jeongin’s mouth was covered in your lipstick, he looked over your shoulder towards where Chan was sitting, smiling triumphantly. “He’s looking,” Jeongin kept his eyes on your ex boyfriend as he brought one hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear. You took hold of his chin and brought him to face you one more time, “think it worked?”
“He looks pissed.” You didn’t bother turning towards Chan, a new plan already blooming in your mind.
“Good. One more for the road?” You beckoned him, pulling him down by the chin to connect your lips again, this time softer and less rushed. After you break apart, you tell him, “thanks. I’ll venmo Minho for the drinks later,” and pat his chest.
“You’re so lucky I’m a good friend,” he called as you turned and walked off the dance floor. You initially meant to go back to your own booth, but made the mistake of looking at Chan as soon as you stepped away from the crowd of people. He stood immediately, gaining a reaction from Changbin and Jisung. Your eyes met his for the second time that night, but dismissed it as quickly as it came by darting your head back towards your own seat and walking away.
You tried to make your way back to your other friends, but before you could finish getting down the aisle, a hand pulled your arm towards the exit instead. Trying to pry the arm away, you shouted, “what the hell?” Chan’s grip wouldn’t let up, dragging you outside of the club and into the cold night air. As soon as you were outside, he finally let you shove him away. “What the fuck is your issue?!” you yelled at him, causing onlookers to stare.
“You! You’re my issue.” He looked tired. You could see the bags under his eyes worse than they were all those months ago. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to look anywhere except at you. “You come knowing I’m here, drinking, dancing on whoever the fuck that was- What the fuck was that, by the way?! You don’t dance with random people, you hardly fucking leave the house and now you’re willing to fuck anything that gives you the littlest bit of attention?” His frustration was coming out in the form of one singular word: fuck.
Once he started, there was no reasoning with him, which was one of the reasons you broke up in the first place. In Chan’s mind, he was always right, no if’s, and’s, or but’s. You let him continue to talk down to you, get it all off of his chest while you walk a little further from the club entrance to lean against a wall and cross your arms. “You’re so infuriating sometimes. Why can’t you just let me move on in peace?”
This made you snap. “Let you move on? You broke up with me, Chan. Did you forget that part already?” You didn’t raise your voice at him, never did when you were together either. That only ever made him more mad. He wanted you to get mad and scream in his face, throw a tantrum and stop being so damn understanding. It never made any sense to you.
“Of fucking course I didn’t, but that doesn’t mean it hurt any less.”
“I beg to differ.” Huffing, you pushed yourself off the wall and attempted to walk back towards the club, but failed miserably as your heels caught on the uneven sidewalk. You stumbled into the wall, barely catching yourself in time.
“And you’re still no better at handling your alcohol,” Chan scoffed, rushing over to help you up straight. “Let me take you home,” he offered, one hand on the small of your back and the other held out for you to steady yourself on.
“I moved.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Stalking me?” he huffed a bit at your quick retort. He forced you to lean against the wall again as he ran inside to grab your stuff, telling you not to puke while he was gone. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes, but you could see Minho walking behind Chan as he exited. “I’m watching you!” Minho called as Chan wrapped his blazer over your shoulders, disappearing back inside when you gave him a thumbs up.
Chan held you up as best as he could, though you struggling to get away from him made it that much harder. You passed the restaurant, looking in to see another group of people sitting at the same table you had when you first met, laughing and enjoying each other's company. Chan watched as you reminisced, stinging in his heart as he saw your eyes glaze over. “I hate the club,” you mumbled.
“I know you do.” The rest of the walk back to your apartment done in silence. Half way there, you were sober enough to not use Chan as a human crutch, opting to walk a step in front of him to keep him from seeing the tears threatening to fall any second. He heard you sniffling, of course, though thought it best to not press you until you were inside. You fumbled for your keys, already kicking your shoes off and stepping onto the welcome mat before you could twist the lock. It was almost comical how natural it felt to have Chan standing behind waiting for you, waiting to open the door like you’ve done a million times. As soon as you managed to get it open, you stepped in, not bothering to pick up your shoes because by muscle memory, you knew he’d get them for you.
And he did, only this time you didn’t make room for him to come in. You stopped as soon as you were in the doorway, throwing the keys into the bowl and turning to reach out for your shoes. Chan snatched them away from your grabby hands, “aren’t you going to let me in?”
“Why would I do that?” You tried for your shoes again, but he pulled them further away.
“‘Cause we need to have a conversation.”
“It wouldn’t be a conversation. It’d be you talking and me getting lectured because you don’t shut the fuck up,” you finally caught your heels from his hands. As soon as they were in your grasp, you turned to shut the door, but his foot stuck in between. By this point he was already closing and locking your door and taking off his shoes, meaning you weren’t going to bed anytime soon.
You ignored his calls as you walked into your bedroom, Chan following closely on your tail. “What was that stunt back there, hm? Were you trying to make me jealous?”
All you wanted was to curl up in a ball and not think about the headache you’d have tomorrow. “Did it work?” You said, not looking at Chan as you rummaged through your drawers to find something comfortable to change into. Once you did, you threw the oversized shirt on the bed and began to unzip the back of your skirt.
It didn’t feel wrong, but it didn’t feel right either. Chan had seen you naked hundreds of times, he had every piece of your skin burned into his brain. But him standing before you, not as your boyfriend, watching you undress, it made his heart weep. You didn’t care much for his presence as you changed, not like it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. You slipped the skirt off to reveal only your white lacy underwear, and Chan couldn’t help his mouth watering just a little. Next to come off was your top, and of course not wearing a bra underneath. Feeling the intensity of his gaze, you quickly slipped the shirt on. You let out a huff, dropping your hands to your side and looking at Chan, “well?”
“Did you want it to work?”
“Don’t answer my question with a question.”
“You did the same thing.”
“I didn’t know you’d be there,” you admitted. “I really wished you weren’t, to be honest.” The life of domesticity with Chan came rushing to the forefront of your memory, flooding your chest with feelings of sadness. The way he was standing now, dressed up and hair done, though facial expressions so heartbroken that no adjective could do it justice. “You shouldn’t be here. For my sake and yours,” you let out an aching plea.
“I never wanted to leave,” he took a step closer to you, but it made you shy away and take one back. “Then why did you?” A pin drop could’ve been heard through the deafening silence.
He didn’t answer, yours and his mind both racing at a million miles an hour, only in different directions. Tears threatened to fall again, from him this time. You were done crying, there was none left for you to give and especially not to him. “You don’t get to do this. It’s not fair and you know it,” your voice shook. One tear ran down his cheek, it took everything in you not to cup his face and wipe it clean. He was always a pretty crier. Chan didn’t bother swiping it away, rather wanted you to see the raw emotion he was feeling.
“I’ve never been fair to you, have I?” if it weren’t only you two in the room, you might’ve missed his words.
“No.”
There was nowhere left for you to run as he strode toward you, eyes red and pleading with you. His large hands reached for yours, gently taking them as you tried your best to look away from the mess of a man before you. “I need to make it up to you, let me,” his eyes chased yours as you avoided him. “Let me show you. I can’t tell you, but I can show you, I'm still yours. Please, just… just let me.” More tears showered his face, and you broke. You blinked away what you could and unintentionally smeared the rest across your cheek with your palm. Your silent crying only made him sob harder, falling to his knees in front of you still holding one hand, the other caressing your hip and pulling you forward. He buried his face into your stomach, pressing light kisses all across your belly and down to your thighs.
You wanted to bury the aching in your center, the way he pulled butterflies from your soul and left them to linger. You wanted to ignore the way his kisses burned your bare skin wherever he littered them, whether it be your thighs, the lengths of your arms, or the palms of your hands. More than anything, you wanted him. Seeing him on his knees, sobbing for you and begging you to give him another chance to see he’d changed was all it took for you to cave. He could move mountains while you controlled the ocean, never truly meeting but both beautiful all the same. Unsure of when he let go of your hand to wrap both around your backside and hold you closer, you pulled his face up to look at you. His hair was now in complete disarray, you only added to it by running your fingers through them and tugging his head backwards. “Still so pretty for me,” you cooed. Chan’s sobs turned into soft sniffles, his eyes bloodshot and puffy but in clear awe just for you. It took all the strength you had to not drop to his eye level and kiss him. Instead, you did what you know how to do best.
“Stand up,” you ordered him, testing the waters. He complied all too eagerly, it made you smile. You handed him a tissue from your bedside table and he wiped his face, tossing it into the bin. Chan looked to you for further instructions. “If we do this, you’re staying the night and we’re figuring it out in the morning. No more running away,” he nodded. “I need to hear you say it. Say you want this, because once we start-”
“I-I do. I want this,” his voice was no longer beaten and broken, but willing and pliable, and you were going to mold him to perfection. “Color system, remind me what it is,” you stared into his eyes, the tips of his ears and neck blushing.
“Green is good, yellow is slow down, red is full stop.” Smirking down at your feet, you walked slowly behind him, placing one hand on his waist while the other felt up and down his chest. You could hear his breath hitch as the hand on his chest moved to unbutton what was left of his shirt, slowly. Chan balled his hands into fists to stop himself from moving as your other hand toyed with the zip of his jeans. His whole body shuddered once you got his shirt undone and slipped your fingertips along the lines of his abs. Clearly he didn’t stop working out since your break up. Feeling him up one last time, you pulled his shirt off completely and dropped it, leaving him in just his pants and you still in just a shirt and panties. You wanted to take him all in, appreciate every dip and curve of his body, so you did. You planted featherlight kisses to the tops of his shoulder, moving slowly from one to the other as your hands kept playing with the waistband of his jeans.
One particular graze of your palm along the front of his ever so hard bulge made his stomach tense and let out a deep groan. “Please,” he begged, not daring to turn and face you.
“Please what?” you teased as you took your time unbuttoning his pants and sliding the zipper down completely. Chan’s back muscles contracted with every burning touch your fingers left behind on his torso, he wanted so badly to stop your teasing and throw you on the bed, rip the shirt and panties you wore to shreds. However past experiences claimed you wouldn’t let him come if he did. “Please touch me.”
It only took him asking nicely once for you to push your hand directly into his briefs from behind him, handling his rock solid length without care. You gripped him tightly, not letting up as he whimpered and convulsed at the sudden friction. “You were kinda mean back at the club, baby boy. Do you think you deserve to be touched?” Chan threw his head back and tried to steady his hips that threatened to move against you. Keeping him in place with your free hand on his ribcage, you didn’t loosen the one in his pants, if anything his moans told you he liked you being this rough. “I asked you something. Too dumb already?”
“N-no. I’m sorry, miss.” The name you established at the beginning of your sex life with Chan rang like music to your ears, it fell so nicely off his lips.
“At least you didn’t forget your manners.” You let go of him completely despite the whining Chan let out. Though, you didn’t let him complain for long before pushing him towards the four poster bed. “In the middle.” He scrambled to the middle of the bed and laid on his back. Looking to you, his cheeks were still puffy and crimson but his eyes were now darkened with something much more mischievous. “Take off your pants.” There were no pauses in between your command and his response, “so eager to please me tonight, hm? You’ve got a lot of making up to do. We lost so much time.”
“Yes, miss. Just want to be good for you,” Chan sat up on his arms as he watched you head for the closet, unsure of what you’d pull out. Shuffling around a bit, you found the box you were looking for. It rattled as you opened the lid, pulling out two hand cuffs with longer chain links for a bit more wiggle room. Faking a laugh, you threw the box back down and held the cuffs one in each hand. “You’re gonna be good now, hm? Didn’t seem very good when you dragged me from my night out.”
His body shivered a little as you leaned on one knee between his legs, swinging the cuffs in your hands. “I’m s-”
“Don’t apologize now, love. It’s too late for that. However,” you pushed Chan back down with a finger to his chest and crawled over him to straddle. “Be nice to me now and I’ll think about letting you come tonight.” He nodded quickly, making your heart race at how needy he is.
The dynamic between you two was always a flip of a switch, one second he could be agitated and ready to burn the world down and the next, he was water in your hands. The power play wasn’t so much play as it was a front, he’s all talk while you’re all bite. It was just a bonus that biting was one of his favorite things.
Chan’s eyes trailed down to the handcuffs, holding up his wrists. “Mmm,” you hummed and smiled at him, undoing one and clipping it around his wrists, then again with the other. You took the free cuff of both and leaned over him to bound them to the corner posters near the headboard. He took in the scent of your chest in his face, slightly smothering his face between your breasts in hopes you wouldn’t notice. You did, but thought it was cute and let it slide. Chan tugged at the metal as you sat up in his lap. “Too tight?” you asked.
“No, miss. Perfect,” his breathing was heavier now with anticipation. He wriggled as you sat completely still atop his crotch, not letting your weight down on him completely because you wanted him to work for your body on his. You gave him a few more moments of struggling just so you could savor the sight below you, Chan working up a sweat and the blush spreading to his chest as he did his best not to buck his hips into your heat. “P-ple-”
“Okay baby boy, okay. Hold tight, I’m gonna take these off you now,” you scooted down his body to grab hold of his boxers to fold off his body. He was burning like a radiator, so when his dick sprang free from the confines, he let out a deep sigh of relief. You let your fingertips just barely brush the length of him before tiptoeing your way back up to place delicate kisses to his collarbone and along his neck. You could feel him holding his breath as you kissed and sucked the nook that met his chest, letting out another gutterly groan as you bite hard enough to leave a nasty mark. Tweaking his nipples just a little, your kisses finally made its way back up to his face where his eyes were screwed closed. “Look at me.”
It took him a second to calm down enough to open his eyes, while his mouth pinched shut to contain himself. Chan’s usually kind eyes were hazy and glossy and his lips were bitten pink. You ran one hand through his hair, pulling hard to make tears threaten to fall again as he whined. He opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a gasp for air. You placed the hand that was in his hair next to his head so you could lean to whisper in his ear, while your free hand traced down his body, gently holding the base of his cock and pressing it to your clothed core. “Am I wearing too many clothes, love?” Chan nodded frantically, relishing in your touch. You all but tore your shirt from your body, leaving you only in the white lace that left little to the imagination.
Chan lunged forward at the sight of your bare chest before him, but the cuffs held him in place. “Ah, ah. No touching. Not until you show how good you are.”
“‘M good- ‘m good I promise,” Chan’s words were more for him than they were for you, talking himself down into headspace. At his affirmations, you fully sat on him, your own arousal dripping over the fabric and smearing onto Chan’s cock as he steadied his hips. What would’ve been the easy release of letting him have his way with you, making you work for what you know he’ll give you was also the one that Chan only gets as a reward. Letting him domme you was also more for him than you, letting him regain whatever short sense of masculinity he gets out of it. As long as it kept him under you, you’d let him have it from time to time.
You were toying with him, making him watch you as you sat up straight on top of him, kneading your own boobs together while you rubbed yourself on his straining cock. You were sure the fabric of your underwear rubbing dryly against him was slightly painful for him, but he loved the pain you inflicted. So when you pulled your panties to the side and let yourself glide his dick through your soaking folds, it was a sweet relief in contrast with the way your nails harshly raked down his chest. Chan let out another moan, closing his eyes and tossing his head back again, unable to control his hips bucking up sharply. “S-so warm,” he choked out. “M-more please. Need you so bad.”
“You’re in no position to be making demands, baby,” you took yourself completely off of him, looking down at his fucked out expression.
Chan’s eyes shot open at the feeling of your touch leaving. “At least kiss me, please. I- I need it. I need you to kiss me.” He looked on the verge of tears again. You realized you hadn’t properly kissed him this whole time, but if you did then it would make this all too real and a point you can’t turn back from.
“I need you to answer this for me first, okay? Me and you,” you stated, pausing the scene even though he’s still bound to your headboard. Chan blinked at you, urging your question. “Were you with anyone else? While we were…” His face contorted like you’d asked if he’d murdered your mother.
“No! No,” he blurted out. “I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready. W-why, were you?” You shook your head no, smiling down at him and leaning forward to press your lips to his. Even though he couldn’t touch you, he pressed into the kiss with such longing and heartfulness, it made you forget about the compromising position you were both in. It was almost enough to make you forget about the scene and just love each other. Almost.
You pulled back too early for his liking, drawing out a groan as he chased your lips. Chan cursed, “these fucking cuffs.” You laughed at his eagerness. You pecked his lips again before slipping your underwear off, leaving you both naked and in need. His eyes watched you as you climbed up him, past his dick and further up until you were hovering over his face. Your knees were on either side of his head and legs hooked under his bound arms. “Make me cum first and you’ll get what you want.” He dove straight in, not waiting for you to sink fully down into his face. Chan licked up and down testingly, rolling his tongue skillfully hard against your nub the way he knew you liked. He cupped his thick lips around your clit, sucking so rough that he made slurping noises. You grabbed his cuffed hands, interlocking your fingers as you sat lower onto him.
You let your eyes close, allowing yourself to feel him completely. It wasn’t like you were a virgin when you met Chan, of course not. But he brought out a side of you that no one else had before, one that made you want to take care of him in a way no one else could. It wasn’t a rare occurrence for him to eat you out, but right now he was doing it like there was no tomorrow and you were his last meal.
The continuous suckling to your core ignited every nerve in your body, your heels pushing into his shoulders as you clamped your legs tighter around his head. Chan’s hands held on to yours for dear life, not wanting to let go of the only part of you he could touch. You cried out when he went particularly hard, “f-fucking hell, baby. You’re gonna ruin me.” He couldn’t respond with you on top of him, so he hummed and pulled his lips away from your clit only to run his tongue around the edge of your wet hole. He slurped again, this time pressing his tongue teasingly in and out at a pace too slow for your liking. In return you let go of one of his hands and reached back to grab hold of his painfully red member harshly. Chan let out a muffled cry, pushing his tongue further into you. Thrusting his tongue in and out, you rounded your hips along his face, his nose occasionally bumping your sensitive nub to give you the stimulation you needed to finish. You could feel his dick twitching in your hand as you called out his name, proving how close you were. Giving his cock one good pump and squeeze, you let go of it to catch yourself as you fell forward towards the headboard, the one hand still holding Chan’s gripping tightly when the hot knot in your stomach finally came undone.
You did your best not to suffocate Chan beneath you as you caught your breath again. When you did, he looked at you for further instruction as you clambered off of him and towards the end of the bed where his cock still throbbed, slightly even more swollen from the rough treatment. “You did so good, love,” you cooed at him as you knelt between his spread legs. He didn’t speak, only whimpered when you stroked and kissed up the insides of his thighs. Your kisses went up the length of his dick until you reached the head, kitten licking it. “P-please let me go. Need to touch you,” his voice wavered softly. You looked up at him through your lashes, seeing his arms straining against the cuffs so much that his fisted knuckles were turning white.
“Be happy with what I give you.” Looking to his face for any sign of discontentment, you found none as he gave you a quick nod. With that, you engulfed just the tip of his leaking cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue gently around it. Chan let out a higher pitched moan, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back. You watched as a single tear fell down his cheek. “You’re so mean,” he said so quietly, you would’ve missed it if you weren’t watching his lips. You hummed with his dick still in your mouth, sending shivers through his body as you acknowledged his words.
The taste of his precum was the same bitter saltiness, but tasted better because it was Chan. You licked it up and dug your tongue into his slit, gaining another cry. Pulling away, you gathered as much saliva in your mouth as possible, letting it drip painfully slow onto his head and down the shaft. Using your hand you spread it as you pumped him slowly, bringing your face down to give his balls and quick lick and suckle until you moved back to leave hickies along his inner thighs. All the while, Chan did his best to keep his eyes open to watch you, but once you bit his leg while slicking up and down him, he was letting the pleasure get the best of him. He forced himself not to buck into your touch, contracting his stomach muscles as his breathing became harder and harder. You bit harder into the flesh of his thighs, once satisfied with the deepening red scattered across them, you gave his cock a slow and long lick up. Giving one good suck and swirl to the head, you popped off of him. The absences of your touch made his eyes shoot open again, “wh-why?”
“I think you’ve been good enough for me,” you smiled softly down at him, kneading the flesh of his torso as you moved to straddle him again. Just to get him a bit more riled up, you immediately sat your sopping heat over the length of his cock, spreading your still very present arousal up and down. Bending over, you kissed up his neck again until you got to his lips, taking in his bitten skin with a deep breath. You pulled away from the kiss, looking at his face, contorted and tear stained. Cupping his face, you swiped the leftover moisture from his cheeks and lightly gave a kiss to each side. “Color, baby?”
“Green, green, so green. Just please- I can’t-” you cut him off with your mouth onto his, swiftly lifting your hips and holding the base of his cock upright for you to sink down on. When you did, you moaned into each other’s mouths. The stretch was burning, but in the most heavenly way possible. You let yourself move slowly down his cock, adjusting to the newfound split. Chan’s kisses became sloppy, almost stagnant as he entered you. His mouth stopped moving and formed and ‘O’ shape as he took in the heat of your pussy. Once you bottomed out, you sat still for a minute with your forehead against his, basking in his presence and scent. It wasn’t one you forgot easily, it never truly left your mind, like spice and vanilla with a hint of rose. It filled your senses completely, overriding your mind and forcing you to sit up straight and lift your hips, only to smack it back down into his. That first movement made him completely lose his self control, thrusting up to find more of you. You stopped him as quickly as you started, pushing his hips down with your hands. “You were doing so well, love. Let me have a bit more fun and you can have whatever you want,” you said as you purposefully clenched hard around his cock. Chan bit his lip rough enough to draw the littlest bit of blood, to which you cupped his cheek and swiped your thumb over to collect.
It was hard not to move at the fast pace you wanted in order to release, however the need to feel every ridge and vein of Chan’s cock in you overpowered the churning in your stomach. Your hand slid up his chest tauntingly sweet, until you fingers gripped around the sides of his neck and squeezed, though not hard enough to hurt him entirely. He bit back a moan, keeping it between his lips. In contrast, gently, you tested Chan’s willpower again by swiveling your hips in a circle, unable to control your pussy clenching around him even more. The grip you had on his throat left him feeling powerless, helpless under you even though he could easily flip you if he wanted to. He gave up containing himself, his groans were getting louder every time your hips came back around full circle, the loudest when you lifted up and kept only the tip inside you, choking him a little harder, and spun your hips around it before slamming back down onto him. You felt him hold back from burying himself deeper in you, and with that you’d had enough. Hastily, you let go of his neck and jumped off of him- earning you a complaining whine- and grabbed the key to the handcuffs from the nearby dresser, quickly unlocking only the parts attached to his wrists. As soon as he was free, Chan resituated himself so he was now on his knees at the end of the bed, adjusting a pillow in the middle and gesturing for you to lay down. “You remember,” you smiled at him as you threw the key onto the nightstand and patted him on the top of the head.
You clambered into the middle of the best, prepared to lie down, but Chan grabbed your hand and pulled you into him, chest to chest and crashing his lips to yours. His hands roamed up and down your body until deciding to plant firmly in your hair, keeping you as close as possible. Unsure what to do about the sudden affection, you let your fingertips sit softly on his abs and kissed him back. It wasn’t a lustful kiss, like you expected it to be. No, it was his way of telling you how much he’d missed you and still loved you. His soft lips somehow pressed impossibly deeper into you and you could feel his cock twitch against your stomach, also reminding you of the ache between your legs. With your lips still attached, Chan lowered you onto your back so that the pillow was beneath your butt. Your legs spread for him so easily as his hands roamed from your hair to your chest, kneading your breasts a bit and gliding down the sides of your torso, only to slide under your thighs and bring them around his own hips. The tip of his dick lightly tapped against your sensitive clit as his lips disconnected from yours, both of you catching your breath. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you grabbed his hair and pulled his head back harshly, “be a good little boy and fuck me like you mean it.”
Chan quickly grabbed the base of his cock, slathering it around your pussy and collecting your arousal before pressing the head against your entrance. He pushed in, mouth letting out a muted moan when you engulfed him again. “Fuck,” you mumbled and held him closer, his head falling into the crook of your neck and attaching his lips to it. Hips pulled out and in with a few experimental thrusts, you relished in the way he moved from base to tip again and again, slowly testing how much you wanted him. “Faster,” he complied all too desperately, finally getting to control the pace. At least, that’s what Chan thought, that he was the one in control. When really, “you’re the perfect service top, aren’t you?” You whispered in his ear, “so eager to prove yourself to me.” Chan bit into your neck harder, the grip on the back of your thighs strong enough to leave bruises. “Do it. Prove how much you need me to make you cum. Show me how much you love me.”
Your words triggered something inside of him, animalistic and raw with pure lust. He moved his head to bite one more mark into your shoulder before sitting up onto his knees and unwrapping your legs from his waist. Chan stalled his hips balls deep in you, lifting behind your knees to rest them both on his shoulders. Something about the new position with the pillow as leverage made the head of his cock bury all the more deeper inside you, brushing lightly against the spot that made your head spin. “God, put a fucking baby in me, why don’t you?” It used to be a running joke between the two of you that this position was the baby-making one, the one that solidified that you’d be tied together forever in one way or another.
He grumbled a low, “if that’s what you want, miss.” Leaning his forehead against yours, he pulled out and slammed into your heat with a newfound vigor, over and over and over. Chan’s eyes threatened to close as the feeling became too much, letting go of the grip on your thighs and putting all of his weight onto his hands next to your head. Through the coiling in your stomach and his pounding thrusts, you managed to grab hold of his chin and force him to keep his eyes on yours.
It's an intimate thing, eye contact. Something about the way your gaze made him squirm gave you what felt like all the power in the world, you knew with a single look he’d crumble at your command. Your sweaty foreheads slipped from each other, letting him take his rightful place at your neck once more. One hand found its way into his hair, pulling and scraping along his scalp as the other raked long and hard from his shoulder down to his back. He did his best to hide his moans by keeping his mouth pressed to your skin, vibrating through you whenever you clenched around him. “Let me hear you,” you spit out as smoothly as you could through the immense pleasure you got when he repeatedly hit that spot inside you, tightening the coil in your stomach. Chan was as incoherent as a person could possibly be, only being able to whine and groan without a single thought. “Sound so pretty. Still my pretty boy,” you turned your head so you could bite the lobe of his ear, scratching rather hard along his scalp.
Apparently this got to him, “f-fuck- need- need to-”
“Cum for me, baby boy,” was all he needed to hear as his long, languid thrusts turned into short and hard ones that just about gave you the push you both needed. Your pussy clenched incredibly hard around him, forcing his hips to a stutter stop balls deep and milk him for everything he had. The warmth from his release was the icing on the cake to make your orgasm rip through your body like a hurricane, making your legs go numb on his shoulders and leave scratches down his back you were sure could be bleeding. He liked the pain, and you liked that he loved when you gave it to him.
It was a couple of minutes before either of you could move again, breathing too labored and body already starting to ache. He didn’t pull out of you, but instead moved your legs off of his shoulders and let them fall to the bed, cradling him in between as his body collapsed on top of yours with all his weight. The movement made his softening dick move inside you, the sensitivity causing you to clench a little and flinch. You didn’t mind it though, it was comforting having him be completely at ease with you. Chan’s head rested on your chest, leaving a small kiss to the tops of your breasts and wrapping his arms around your back to hold tighter. “Still hate the club?” he whispered, too tired to look up.
“Still hate the club.” You fell asleep like this, arms around his neck and hands in his hair, lulling you both to darkness.
-
A/N: phew this took me a while to write… First mature post heheh hope it isn’t too shitty, got a bit carried away in the gory details.
This is the first part of the 8 part series i’m starting!! I love Kehlani and her lyricism and the way she expresses her life experience when it comes to dating and relationships, thought this was a good way to try and embody it :3 As always let me know what you think!!
#stray kids fanfic#It Was Good Until It Wasn't#bang chan fanfic#bang chan smut#bang chan angst#bang chan fluff#bang chan x female reader#bang chan x you#bang chan x reader#stray kids smut#stray kids angst#stray kids fluff#Spotify
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Sherlock Holmes - Kiss Me, Mr Detective
A/N - Season 1!Sherlock, the cutie. And friends to lovers. Two of my favourite things. I do not own Sherlock Holmes, the character, the universe, the adaptations or anything: this is a work of fiction set on the BBC adaptation of Sherlock. Did I still write 8.2k words (exactly) for it? Yes. I also don’t own the song or the lyrics used within, and if you fancy it, listen to ‘Kiss Me’ by Ed Sheeran while reading.
Warnings - Bad language. Mentions of murder and drug usage. Mild angst. Smut, loss of virginity, masturbation, oral m receiving, penetration, unprotected sex, so 18+.
Summary - After a fight with John leaves Sherlock feeling particularly down, he calls on the one person who is always there to support him. Only tonight, it’s different. Feelings come to a head, exploration ensues, but is this just a one time thing? That depends on whether she stays the night...
TO SHERLOCK, it’s just another normal day, whereas to John? He’d rather not admit how regularly these awful days roll around. Sure, the case didn’t go as well as it could’ve, and Sherlock admittedly could’ve made much more of an effort to comfort John after the apparent ‘heartbreak’ he endured. He just could not understand it. Why the hell was John so emotionally responsive to a case they’d been on for less than twenty four hours which turned out to be a bust anyway?
“You are absolutely unbelievable!”
“People die every day, John. You’ve killed people, as have I. It isn’t that great a surprise.” Sherlock deadpans, picking up his teacup, raising it to his lips, drawing a long sip from the warm liquid.
“Oh, yeah, of course. The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own.” John mocks. “Do you not even care that people are still dead despite the fact you solved the case?”
“They’d be dead either way,” he reiterates, “at least we got to them before they completely decomposed. Will me caring about them stop them from being dead? No, Dr Watson, it will not.”
“Sherlock!”
“John!” He mimics.
John slams his hands down on the desk, shaking the wood and everything resting on it, surely sending the vibrations through the floor and notifying Mrs Hudson of their ‘domestic’ as she so likes to call them. The buffalo even begins to swing. John’s tea is long forgotten, but Sherlock’s is keeping him grounded, calm, as John waggles his fist in Sherlock’s passive, blank face.
“You-” he pauses, gulping down breath. “You are a fucking machine, I can’t even deal with you right now. How dare you be so cold hearted and untroubled by this. You’re a disgrace.”
As if he hasn’t heard that one before, Sherlock scoffs.
Placing his teacup back down with a clink, he stands, the darkness of the night, of the room, closing in on them both. Nights like these really are danger nights, any night John leaves him. That’s what's coming next, but there isn’t a thing he knows to say or do to prevent the inevitable. He’ll simply just text Her instead, she’ll keep him grounded.
“Why? Emotional context? Emotion, whether of ridicule, anger, or sorrow, whether raised at a puppet show, a funeral, or a battle, is your grandest of levellers. The man who would be always superior should be always apathetic.”
With a huff like a bull, John viciously turns on his heel, blaspheming under his breath, cursing Sherlock out. He reaches for his coat and snatches it off the stand, slamming the door open.
“MACHINE.” John screams before pulling the door shut with a great slam, seething, the coat stand still rocking in his wake.
John’s footsteps thunder down the stairs, but before he’s even gone, Sherlock’s phone is withdrawn, and he’s tapping out a message.
Can you come over? Please? SH
It wouldn’t usually bother him as much. The case didn’t phase him, at all, but John’s opinion did. It always does. But today was a particularly long day of being brutish and rude, cold and distant, his usual and true self, but John’s more and more impatient with him now.
Being called a ‘machine’ is, again, nothing unusual, but this time it stings a little more than usual, especially after his recent arrest, and a fallout with Molly. He only has one person left, right now, who doesn’t hate him. His longest friend, the one he keeps away from it all so as to not tarnish her life with his misdeeds; Y/N, the one he can always rely on.
He knows she’s arrived by the sound of his window crashing open. Crawling up the bricks, skimming the drainpipe, latching onto the ivy; it’s her usual manner of entry. She never uses the door.
Putting his cups and saucers into the sink, he makes his way through the house, opening his bedroom door to find her already sitting there on the bed, her coat hung up on the hook, her work clothes clinging to her body.
“Hey there Mr Detective, you okay?” she asks as jovially as she can muster.
The way he ambles across the room, his dressing gown floating behind him, and slumps down onto the bed, instantly tells her he’s not okay at all. She can’t help but to look upon him sympathetically, edging a smidge closer to him, until he’s prompted enough to wrap his arms around her torso, finding his rightful place tangled around her. She knows him well enough - his past, and his current life - to realise she’s the only person he’s ever felt comfortable enough around to do this with, and that brings her a certain swelling pride in her bosom, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Sherlock as he feels her skin heat up against his cheek.
It doesn’t take long, either, for his head to follow suit, burying into her chest. He’s always, always had a thing for her boobs, ever since they were in uni together.
That’s something so special about the two of them, he doesn’t have to say anything for her to know he’s not okay the way he does with everyone else. And naturally, he can read everything about her in a split second.
“I’m here, bud.”
Above all else, he just needs to know someone is there for him in moments like these. The world is cruel to him, and Y/N wishes more than anything that it wasn’t. Upon instinct, her hands stray, one to his back, pressing against the silk of his dressing gown, the other cradling his long neck, fingers knotting in the dark curls there.
She isn’t sure how long she stays there, simply holding him, feeling every twitch of his muscles, every breath of his against her skin, but she likes it. Of course she does, every time she likes it. Sherlock brings her an inordinate amount of comfort at the best of times, today is no exception, especially with what the day has held. Even when she’s the one comforting him, he doesn’t realise how much he helps her too.
His flat is so familiar, his bed as comfortable as her own. She knows his sock index, she’s studied his periodic table over his shoulder more times than she’d care to admit, and she even has her own toothbrush in the bathroom in case she has to pop over for an emergency freshen up. Sherlock has, and always will be, her first port of call, and that she remembers as she shifts further onto the quilted bedspread, her phone on his oak bedside locker.
His head begins to stir against her chest, his curls tickling her collarbones, small hums escaping his lips as he pushes himself up, his elegant yet trembling hands still splayed on her waist.
“I could feel your heart beating weirdly, what’s wrong?” he asks, quirking his eyebrows.
“Just the usual.” she vaguely replies.
Sherlock isn’t having it, though, and scans her a little more. “You’re still in your work clothes.”
“Great deduction. I was hoping you’d go a little deeper, though.”
“You hate wearing work clothes longer than necessary, which means you had plans straight after work, considering you finished… five hours ago? That’s your usual time for today. Counting overtime, forty five minutes, walk to your car, another ten, but your umbrella wasn’t working, round that up to an hour, leaving at 6. You arrived home, no, not home, at your boyfriend’s house for dinner. However, you’re not comfortable enough with one another yet for you to use his shower, or perhaps you are, but you elected not to, and stay in damp clothes that only had seventeen minutes to dry with the heater on in your car for the journey there. You ate dinner, Mexican, had a glass and a half of five percent wine, realised you couldn’t drive, but you didn’t particularly want to stay. Nonetheless you sat and watched the telly with him for hours, football, I can see the dreariness in your eyes. I know how much you hate it, and frankly, same. You stayed for almost all of the match, seeing as you’re now sober, but something else happened.” She lulls her head to the side, prompting him, her smile not meeting her eyes. “As soon as the match ended, he tried to make a move on you, he pressed his mouth to yours, he tried to push his hand up your skirt;” his throat bobs with a vicious gulp; despising the thought of anyone else laying a finger on her, “you swatted him away, rightfully so.”
He pauses a minute, his harsh tone of voice and his sharp face softening. He can see the vulnerability in her eyes, her walls about to crumble. This woman he appreciates so much. “He doesn’t deserve you.”
Smiling melancholically up at him, she brings her hand back to his hair, her fingers carding through the soft curls. His face buries back into her chest just as her voice offers a broken whisper, “I broke it off. I was the one who couldn’t commit this time.”
And as she lays her head on top of his, her breathing more shallow, resounding in her chest, he dwells over those very words. The way she said them, not to mention the words themselves, hold a myriad of meaning. What could she possibly-
Oh.
The subtext, yes, impeccable. She’s always had a way with implications and subtext, always knowing that the likelihood of him actually picking up on it is little to none. But now, now he’s become trained to her, her way of life, her way of thinking, her way of speaking. This is too good an opportunity to miss. If she means what he thinks she means, ever hopeful, then this is completely unfamiliar territory.
Gathering all of his courage in one deep breath, he begins to pepper kisses on her skin. The faintest brush of his lips on the tops of her breasts, all that’s available to him with her shirt the way it is. He feels her heart flutter, her breathing stutter, but despite the chemical flush of her chest, he still isn’t quite sure she likes it. Not until he feels her grip on his hair increase, and he glances up to see her head thrown back. Her spine delicately arches against his hand, thrusting her chest further into his face.
His nimble fingers reach for her buttons, undoing the top two, giving him space enough to find the valley between her breasts. Lathering kisses there, licking the swells of her boobs, his tongue pulsates with the increased thrumming of her heart. The sensation is new, so unbridled, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with the stirring in his loins right about now. That unknowing is only further amplified by the sound that rips from her chest when he involuntarily bites down on the supple flesh. It couldn’t be… a moan?
Sure, he understands the chemistry of it, the reactions that occur in the synapses of the brain, the pheromones and hormones released when one is aroused, but this is all new to him. And, from his embarrassingly basic level of theory, surely that doesn’t start until some more stimulation on other parts of the body commence? Nipples, perhaps something lower down… then again, what does Sherlock know?
Of course it’s an intimate moment, the closest he’s been to a woman before, and maybe that’s why he freezes, stops, and she tugs his head up by his hair, her gentle, pleasured smile with her lips softly parted deepening the look of bewilderment painted onto his face. Her eyes are twinkling, alight with an excitement he hasn’t seen for far too long.
“What are you doing?” she whispers.
He shrugs his shoulders with a sudden force, his dressing gown falling off a little. “I don’t know. But now I feel like I read your pining words all wrong.”
She gasps, a wheezing sound, sucking the air from the room. She smacks his arm gently, muffled by his button-down and dressing gown. “I wasn’t pining! I was saying.”
“Hmm, same difference.”
Everyone must acquiesce when it comes to Sherlock Holmes. “But no, you didn’t read them wrong at all, but I know you don’t see me that way, you don’t feel things that way.”
He pauses, his beautiful plump lips pursed, fidgeting on the bed. Brushing her hair off her face reveals the pain she expressed. However, her eyes glued on his, sadness is betrayed in every line of his young, clean-shaven face. His entire bone structure is taking a nosedive.
“For you, I’ve been feeling everything from hate to love to lust, and I guess that’s how I know I want to hold you close.”
“Sherlock...” she whispers, her singular word an inflection of surprise.
Never tearing his eyes from her, his hand comes up to her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the slightly blushing skin, searching her face, with his big blue eyes, for a shred of reluctance. But, all he sees is her, so he elects to do what his heart is yelling at him to do for once, and kisses her breathless. His full lips holding hers, his one hand on her face, the other still wrapped around her back. Hers fly around his neck, clinging to him for dear life.
It doesn’t take long, their movements steadily heating, for their previously slow, intimate kiss to grow into something more, Y/N pulling herself up from the bed and making herself comfortable on Sherlock’s lap. His breath hitches in his throat, a cute little hiccupping sound escaping his lips in between embraces.
As much as he loves just this, soft caressing and gentle petting, he just knows she wants more. He does too, that much is evident from the length prodding at Y/N’s inner thigh as she moves gently on his lap. She won’t make a move, though, he’s too inexperienced, and she’s too much of a sweetheart to corrupt him, so she thinks. Ever since he first saw her, she’s been corrupting him slowly. He didn’t realise at first, but over the years, he began to understand, and now he’s in too deep.
For Y/N? It’s always been him. Every breakup she’s had, she’ll come to Sherlock’s flat, full well knowing the real reason she broke up with them, because she couldn’t commit, because she was too caught up on him.
Skimming his hands beneath her shirt, he savours the press of his hands on her bare skin, warmth seeping from her body into his, his fingers dancing along her spine. Electricity shocks her in bursts, unlike anything else, from his touch alone.
“May I take your shirt off?” he asks.
“Fuck, yes.” she groans. “May I do yours?”
“Be my guest.”
In a tangle of limbs, a few buttons pop off, and eventually, two shirts make it out the other side, tossed from the bed and into the laundry pile. Aka Sherlock’s floor. He’s like that: sock indexes, yet he won’t get a hamper. A walking contrast.
His thumbs press beneath the band of her bra, savouring the pressure of the flesh that falls into his hands, but that’s as far as he gets.
“Never undone a bra before?”
He shakes his head sheepishly. “I know the theory. Just… you always wear peculiar ones.”
“I wear relatively normal bras, and this one is certainly bog standard. Had I known you’d be undressing me Mr Detective, I’d have worn something nicer.”
“Just do it for me.” He requests, chuckling.
She unfastens her bra, and allows her breasts to spill from the cups, into Sherlock’s awaiting hands. The gasp that erupts from him sends Y/N’s brain into overdrive. He’s cupped her chest through her shirt before, buried his nose into her cleavage countless times, but never before have they had such skin on skin contact. Her lips press to his neck, shifting her closer to him. Sucking on his pressure point, she receives a similar gasp in response, only this one is more guttural, more a sound of pleasure than surprise. He’s wilting from a single kiss to his neck.
“Has no one ever given you a hickey?” She husks in his ear, her voice alone sending tremors down his spine.
“N- fuck, no.”
“I’ll make it worth it. All of this.”
“I know you will.”
She fuses her lips onto his again, savouring the faint hesitations as he grapples with his breath, eager to get some control on his mind with all that’s happening. Never did she ever think Sherlock would be here beneath her, his rough fingertips brushing over her peaked buds, and his palms dancing over her waist. Never did she think she’d hear him whisper his next words, either, not in a million years.
“More.” he pleads. “Can we do… more? Whatever that entails?”
“That depends what you want to do.”
“Get me out of these damn trousers. They're rather uncomfortable.”
She snorts lightly, a piggy like sound, the one they bonded over all those years ago. “I can feel why.”
“I imagine you want out of your work trousers, too.”
“God, yes; they’re ghastly.”
“I don’t think so.” he hums. “You look nice.”
Her cheeks begin to burn, blood rushing to colour them, betraying her true feelings, but as he tweaks her nose playfully, the little snort escapes again.
They were in the dining hall, second week of university, almost ten years ago, and Y/N was sitting with her friends, downing enough coffee to sink a ship, eating her hangover away, when her friends decided to make her laugh with tales of last night's drunken events. Unbeknownst to her, one of the greatest minds of the twenty-first century was sitting just a few seats down on the half-empty bench, watching her perceptively in his periphery. That’s when he first heard the sound. The cutest thing, and it startled him into action, beginning his deductions almost instantly. Admittedly, her student ID on the table aided him a little.
He shocked her from her haze, too, as soon as he spoke her name.
“Y/N, eighteen, jurisprudence first year, freshers week over with. You left a boyfriend back home, but you’re more sad about leaving your dog, as I would be. You don’t particularly care about law but know it’s a good undergraduate to receive anyway. Dyed hair, extrovert, killer hangover, and apparently there’s a little piggy living inside your nose. Sherlock Holmes, would you like some aspirin?”
“That’s weird; what are you, some kind of detective?” She asked, sans malice, a playful bounce to her words.
“Chemistry, going for a masters. But I do like the mystery, yes.”
“So you’re… bright. Nice to meet you, Sherlock, and it seems you know almost everything you need to know about me. But yes, I will take that aspirin, if you don’t mind. How was your weekend?”
He smiled at her, the first true smile he’d given in a long time. “It was nice, thank you.”
And thus a friendship was born, all because he heard her little piggy snort.
Her slender fingers work wonders with the fastener and zip of his suit trousers, and even manage hers too, all within the space of a few seconds, but Sherlock is reluctant to let her go, even just to get her trousers off.
“I need to sit up, just for a minute.”
“No.” Sherlock commands, insistent. “We can make this work.”
“Sure we can, but it won’t be very comfortable. Come on.”
She’s barely peeled away from him and wrestled hers off before he’s drawing her back in for a kiss, his trousers settled just above his knees.
“Sherlock,” she protests, mumbling against his lips, her hands on his heavenly, broad, muscular shoulders. “Sher!”
Her squeal at his sudden tug on her panties disappears, captured by his eager mouth. And in fact, her panties seem to disappear along with it, thanks to Sherlock’s swift movements and nimble hands. Maybe he’s had some experience to be so good at this…
“You sure you wanna go this far?”
“More sure than I’ve ever been. I need you.”
He takes a deep inhale, dropping his forehead against hers, his breathing coming out in bursts as he tries to get a grasp on the situation. “Kiss me.”
She doesn’t need to be told twice, instantly getting to work on the waistband of his boxers as his tongue lavishes her own. His hips rise briefly, just long enough for her to tug the elasticated material from around him, slipping past her, and then he kicks it into their growing pile of clothes. His length falls into her awaiting palm, and-
“Wow.” She exhales in amazement. “If I’d known you were packing this much, I’d have jumped you long ago.”
“No you wouldn’t.”
“Absolutely not, until tonight I thought you’d just laugh at me.”
He pecks her lips affectionately, “Never. You’re bloody beautiful, I’ll let you do anything to me.”
“Hmm, anything, you say?”
Stifling a chuckle against her neck, he recommences, “Maybe not anything.”
Yeah, that's definitely the right call. Still, she finds herself all but clawing at him, her breath hovering teasingly just over his lips, their noses touching, her hands clamped to his cheeks, feeling the building heat there. She must be making such a mess of his bed right about now, but for one night? It can’t matter.
This is a one time thing, it has to be. Sherlock just needs to release some tension, she just so happens to be there. Still, she can’t prevent the little glimmer of hope shining through at the possibility of this being a more-than-one-time thing. The moral compunctions of their friendship after this don’t matter anymore, because he’s leaving a fire in his wake, his delicious fingertips digging bruisingly into her bum before trailing lightly up her spine, skimming her shoulder, brushing her neck - arched for him to reach where he wants, able to mark her as his own - and finally slipping over her lips, taken obediently by her awaiting mouth. Christ, if there’s one thing she hopes for tonight, it’s that his actions never relent.
Whether it’s what he intends to happen or not, his fingers in her mouth give her an idea, one she prays he goes along with at least a little, so she pulls away. The dirty, telling smile on her face hints at what she’s about to do, lending Sherlock to shift a little more up the bed, his eyes following her every move. Hands splayed on his thighs, her small fingers gripping onto the fine hairs there, she begins to take his tip into her mouth, never once breaking eye contact with him. Yeah, this is what’ll drive him insane.
Inch by inch, she takes him into the welcoming heat of her mouth, pulling off slowly, only to go down again. She adds her tongue into the mix at some point, too, and her hand, on what she can’t reach, tickling his balls, but further than that, his mind is blank. Hot white, washed with pleasure. The sounds he emits are other worldly, so much that he has to muffle himself with his own hand; what would Mrs Hudson say? He’s always had such control over his mind and body, but this… he’s slowly losing all semblance of control, and he’s not even mad about it. What he does know is that there’s a building heat in his abdomen, a coil about to spring, and his cock is beginning to twitch. If she keeps going this incredible way, her teeth grazing him ever so gently, adding another new sensation into the mix, he’s inexorably going to finish before he can help it.
“As much as I adore your torturous ministrations, I think I need to be inside you…” He husks, his voice deep.
A smirk gracing her lips, she looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, mischief glinting in her pretty little mesmerising eyes for a second, before she hollows her cheeks and takes him wholly, allowing his length to slip partially down her throat. Her moan reverberates around him, and Sherlock begins to thrash above her, scrunching the duvet in his hands, not caring if it creases. If there’s one thing Sherlock hates, it’s creases. And being called a machine by his best friend. Right now, though, it seems as though every misstep in his day has led him here, into the welcoming heat of Y/N’s mouth, taking him so eagerly, her tongue lapping at the vein on the underside of his dick, a string of saliva remaining as she pulls away.
“I think you’ve got a couple of rounds in you, Mr Detective. Can you do that for me?”
“Y-yes.” He stammers, his head tossed back in pure ecstasy a moment later as she begins to work on the head with kitten licks. “But… can I s- fuck me, say something?”
“I plan on it.” she chuckles, “anything.”
She goes back to peppering kisses all over his member, tip to base, brushing his balls, working her way back up.
“Touch yourself f- for me.”
“What? Why?”
Her tone is more inquisitive than anything else, but upon that playfully rueful look in his lust-darkened baby blue eyes, she knows he’s going to get her back for this little display, and he’s just worked out how. It works both ways, she can prepare herself for what’s to come next while pleasuring him. And he gets to watch. It’s a win-win for him. Maybe he likes this sex thing a little more than he’s letting on.
“Are you sure you want me to? I’ll just make a mess on your sheets, Sher.”
She swallows him again, bobbing her head up and down on his length a few times while he grapples with literal reality. He’s teetering on the edge. One more move, and he’s a goner. His head is already against the wall, lolled there.
“I don’t care about the sheets, darling, I need you ready for me.”
She gulps, nods, and reaches one hand around her, skimming over her stomach, until it nestles between her thighs. She rubs her thumb over his tip, collecting the pre-come beading there, while she rubs over her throbbing pearl, pressing softly. Then, as she inches down on his cock, taking him in her mouth, she also collects the slick from between her thighs, and uses it as a lube to push a finger inside herself. Of all the times she’s touched herself, she never imagined, even in her wild Sherlock fantasies, that she’d be doing it with his dick down her throat. With every bob of her head, she scissors herself more, sinking back onto her fingers.
“I think I’m-” Sherlock begins to say, his words cut off by an utterly obscene moan splitting the air.
She hastily abandons her one post, and wraps both of her hands around his girth, working on what she can’t fit into her mouth with her increased speed, licking and suckling his head as he begins to fall apart, coming, with a scream, down her throat, his one hand clamped over his mouth, biting down harshly to silence his cries; the other buried in her hair.
His whole body falls lax, completely spent, meanwhile, Y/N savours every drop she’s been able to draw from him. He softens in her mouth, allowing her change to slip away from him, grasping a tissue from the bedside to wipe away any excess. That’s certainly something she never thought would happen…
He’s calm, though, smiling lazily through hooded eyes, his breathing regulated once more, making beckoning motions to her with his big hands. He’s placated, though, and sliding her hands into his, she’s allowed time enough to get into place, smiling softly at him, raking her fingers over his scalp in a comforting way. Even as she sits herself on his lap, she can feel him hardening beneath her ass, slowly but surely. She was right about him, he’s definitely got another round in him.
“Do you have a condom?” he asks.
“No, sweetheart, they’re in my other bag. I didn’t plan on getting any for a while… do you?”
“Not in here, that I’m aware of. John may have stashed some in my less favoured dressing gowns or socks, and he definitely has some upstairs, but I’m unawares.”
“I’m gonna sound crazy here, but do we need one?” She says hesitantly. His eyes widen, he cocks his head to the side. “I was tested after my last partner, I’m clean, and on birth control. You’re a virgin. There’s no point, is there?”
“You have a considerably good point.”
With that, energy rejuvenated a little, he wraps an arm around her body, flipping them over so he’s on top, shadowing her, looming over her, gazing down at every inch of her naked beauty.
“Take your time. I’ll be your safety.”
“I know.” he whispers, a tearful smile making its way onto her face. “Thank you.”
He needn’t say more, because she already knows why she’s being thanked. For her kindness, for making him so comfortable, for accepting the fact he’s still a virgin in his late twenties and, if he’s being honest, has no damn clue what the practicality and reality of sex is. Sure, he’s seen porn. He’s also looked at John’s laptop. But that doesn’t prepare one for when the moment comes. It’s like all of that goes out the window, and he simply remembers the first time he opened a biology textbook at secondary school, pictures of flushed organs staring back at him, desperately waiting to be relieved. That’s what his own coock is like right now, already hard again, virtually pulsating with hunger in his palm. He strokes himself a couple of times, glancing down at Y/N’s wide eyes.
“Are you okay? Can I…”
“Yes, Sherlock,” she chuckles, “whenever you’re ready.”
Now, he thinks. He rubs two digits through her folds, gathering her wetness, enamoured with the way it glistens on his fingertips. Tentatively, he brings his fingers up to his mouth, swirling his tongue around them to get a taste. Eyes rolling into the back of his head, he moans. She’s better than any cup of tea he’s ever had.
His cock slaps against his lower stomach pleadingly, so he grasps it in his hand, and begins to enter her, pushing gently, feeling every flutter of her walls. Her arms fly out, hands grasping his shoulders, nails leaving crescent moons in their wake at the delicious stretch. It’s nothing like they’ve ever felt before.
“Can I move?” He asks, balls deep inside her, their pelvises flush against one another.
“Please.” She all but begs.
Before doing anything else, Sherlock hooks one strong arm around her body, malleable in his hands, and holds her chest against his. Her breasts push into his skin, her nipples gaining friction from the dusting of hair there. Her one hand cups his slender neck, the other, his sharp cheek. Their eyes meet in a fierce gaze of burning intensity, and he begins to move. Slow, calculated, sharp thrusts punctuate her core. With every heavenly stroke, he can feel the ridges in her velvet walls, squeezing around him unwittingly.
“Jesus,” she cries, her clutch increasing.
“Hmm, not quite.”
The smirk in his words is quite literally audible. He’s so cocky, so full of himself, and fuck if she can’t feel another gush of arousal coursing through her, drenching his cock. How does he manage to be so attractive when he’s so dishevelled?
“Is that good?” He asks, unsure.
“So good.”
She brings her legs up, skimming the clenched backs of his thighs, until they wrap around him, drawing his hips into her at a new and improved angle. Heels digging into the base of his spine, he begins to move with a new purpose, his thrusts more passionate as his breath is drained from him by her kisses, his eyes alight with a new flame.
“Oh my God, Sherlock.” She pants, pulling him in for a kiss he greedily returns.
He drives his hips deeper, squeezing his fingertips into her supple waist bruisingly. It’ll be a mark that she belonged to him once, even just for one night. That’s when he reaches that special spongy spot that makes her entire body buckle. She all but screams, pressing into him wholly.
The coil is building, ready to break. He seems to be nearing the edge, too, his member twitching inside her when he buries himself particularly deep. She’s oh so fucking close… She licks into his mouth filthily, desperately clashing her teeth with his, eager for his kisses to tide her over. Silence her. Shifting his supporting hand, he trails one dextrous finger around to circle her clit, adding the faintest pressure for a moment. She mewls as he groans into her hot skin, clawing at him, entirely at his whim. Now he knows where to press, he settled his grip back around her, and draws her in close. This time around, he bends his knees a little more to measure his movements more carefully, ensuring that he ruts up and brushes her sensitive bud with his pelvis, helped by the extra friction of his neatly trimmed pubic hair on every thrust within her, his tip just scraping her g-spot.
“I- Sherlock, please tell me you’re- oh sweet mercy- close.”
He grunts softly in her ear. “So close.”
Their lips meet tenderly, passionately, in what they acknowledge to be a final kiss, moans mixing between them, savoured by the other.
His thighs clench, her legs tighten around his waist, and finally, her sweet walls flutter, squeezing him as she reaches her climax, his not following long after, spilling inside her, painting her soft walls white, marking her.
“Y/N,” he cries in ecstasy as his orgasm reaches him. “Sher…” she repeats, her saving grace as pleasure washes over her entirely.
Their whole bodies wind up pressed together, bound together as one, skin on skin completely, becoming one another.
He lets her down gently, unravelling his grip, unsurprised when their sweaty skin sticks together. Her long legs unfurl, splaying in a butterfly. Sherlock tumbles ungracefully away, somehow landing with a certain gangly elegance on the space of mattress beside her, his arm instinctively flying over to place on her stomach, the skin hot and flushed red. Her chest moves hastily up and down with the thrumming of her heart, while his barely shifts despite his shallow breaths, his white skin glistening in the moonlight.
“Are you okay?” He huffs, turning on his side. “You look pretty fucked out.”
His baby blue eyes train instantly on her nipples, hard in the open air. This is the first notifier, the first inkling she has to feel self conscious, so she draws the sheet up around her as best as she can. Sherlock’s not having any of it, taking a stronghold on her arms, and pulling her until she’s lying on him, naught to separate them.
“I’ve never been this close to anyone physically and y'know.” He hums tiredly. She’s never heard him sound tired before…
She smiles up at him as best she can, “Are you glad?”
He begins to hold her ever closer, squeezing her tighter, feeling every ridge of her body.
“I’m so glad that you were my first, in so many ways.”
Praise from Sherlock is a rarity, and she’ll take it as and when she can, savouring every moment, this time by holding him like a koala, her grip not wavering.
“I’m glad too, Mr Detective.”
He brushes a kiss to her cheek, “As much as I like this, we need to get you cleaned up.”
A supporting arm beneath her bum, he picks her up, and unsteadily ambles into the bathroom.
“I don’t know much about this, but I know you should probably use the toilet, should you want to avoid a UTI, so if you’d like me to leave…”
He sets her down on the loo seat, cupping his hands over his nether regions, and he hurries to grasp for things, until she puts her hand on his arm, squeezing in a conciliatory manner.
“You do remember the camping trip, don’t you? You really don’t have to leave just because I have to pee, you never did before. In fact, you frequently annoyed me with it if you had a particular point to make, steadfastly refusing to leave the bathroom after following me in there when I went to pee. Why does this change anything?”
He shrugs, dropping whatever was in his arms, “It just doesn’t feel the same now, though.”
“Ooo, and now Mr Detective feels things.” She jokes, poking at his ribs.
He recoils, chuckling with her, “Only for you.”
As Y/N washes her hand, Sherlock begins to wrangle with a floorboard, clattering about until he eventually pulls out a small lock box, from which he withdraws a packet of brand new marks-and-spencer's ladies briefs.
“Why the fuck do you have these? Anything you wanna tell me?” she asks, eyes wide.
“John’s idea. He has plenty of girls over here who frequently stay the night, simply a precautionary error.” He takes a beat, gargling with some mouthwash, “they’re clean, new, I just don’t like the idea of you in dirty underwear, and I know how reluctant you are to go without them whenever you’re not in your own bed. I stayed with you enough nights in university to know that.”
Those nights were awfully painful. She’d take the floor, he’d take the bed, and every time she’d have to wash the sheets. He’d sweat and vomit, shake and cry, plead for the pain to be over. He wouldn’t go to hospital, he wouldn’t call his brother, he’d just turn up on her doorstep, high as a kite, almost in tears, knowing he’d gone a little too far. And each time, it was a little farther.
“Thank you, Sherlock.”
She takes them from him, and begins to shimmy them up her legs, only prevented by Sherlock moving to grab a handful of her arse.
“Hmm, I like this. Fancy another round?” He smirks.
“I’m too tired, babe. Give me a bit.”
He can see the lazy smile on her face, the tiredness in her pretty eyes, so he wets a flannel, and begins to clean her up with gentle movements between tender kisses.
“How do you know how to do all of this?” She asks, inquisitive more than anything.
“Instinct, I suppose. I never read or learned about it, seeing as I never thought it would happen.”
She snaps the waistband before moving her hands to his waist, leaning up onto her toes to reach him, kissing her softly.
“Look at you now.”
After brushing their teeth in an amicable silence, their pinky fingers overlapping on the porcelain of the sink, he aids her back to the bedroom, settling her on the bed. She has things here: deodorant, toothbrush, moisturiser, and yet somehow she doesn’t have underwear, even after all these years. Perhaps that's one too many things to explain…
With superfluous extravagance, he throws her his shirt, offering her a wry wink. She finds a blush clawing its way onto her cheeks, dumbfounded. It smells like him, just like a forest glade if it was rained on by tea and cigarettes. Maybe he’ll let her keep it as a memory.
In such a short amount of time, she’s learnt that he has a very sensitive neck. Very. A single kiss there has him biting back a moan. A low one at that, considering his deep voice also drops almost an octave when he’s aroused. His nipples are almost as sensitive as his neck, and he rather likes it when she tugs on them unwittingly.
His first orgasm comes quickly, but his refractory period is astonishing, and it takes longer to achieve a second high, long enough to make her come more than once, she assumes, though her first orgasm was mind blowing enough for two. Perhaps that’s just because it’s his first time, but it’s impressive nonetheless.
What’s the point in learning all of this if, once he comes around from his post-orgasmic haze, he’ll pretend like it never happened, in typical Sherlock style?
The shirt, though a small gesture, means a lot, and her vision begins to cloud as she looks down at the black cotton.
“You mean you want me to stay?” She croaks.
Sherlock turns to her from his set of drawers, his face full of apparent obviousness, brows furrowed in that cute bewildered way.
“Of course I want you to stay.” He states, like it’s the plainest thing in the world, like it’s stupid for her to even ask. But she’s silent, and when she says nothing in response, he launches into a long winded explanation: don’t show sentiment. “I- I just mean, i-it’s midnight, I’m not having you out in London alone. You stay with me. Only if you want to as well...”
She nods eagerly, “Yes. Yeah, course I want to stay.”
He all but leaps access the room, jumping onto the bed, before planting a proper smooch on her lips, grinning down at her. He slips into his usual side of the bed, and she takes hers, rolling to look at him.
“Don’t get cold.” He warns, tucking the duvet up around her shoulders. She giggles like a child, that small snort sounding again, prompting Sherlock to press his thumb to her nose like a button. “How are you… feeling?”
“I’m fine bub, really. That bloke doesn’t matter to me at all. Bit of a scumbag if I’m honest. You’re the one I’m with, the one I wanna talk about. How are you feeling? Must’ve been a pretty big blow up with John for you to call me and be so... teary.”
He sighs, crestfallen, “He called me a machine.”
Her gasp pierces the air, her hand flying to his hair, stroking in consolation, cooing senseless reassurances to him. She’s done this innumerable times, but now it feels different, like there’s no barrier.
“He’s done it so many times that it needn’t bother me anymore, but the way he looked at me, like I was this abhorrent monster, especially after the day and the disappointing case we had, it got to me. I hate having feelings.”
“You don’t have to hide them with me, though.”
He hums gently, burying into her chest. “I know. That’s why I treasure you so dearly.”
“That means you also have to trust me, and you’re not going to like what I have to say.” His chest heaves, shifting her whole body. That’s his way of giving in. “Please just talk to John. You know that whenever he leaves, he’ll come back, and try to pretend it never happened. He needs to know you’re human and that he upset you, but also that the case upset you as well. No one’s superhuman, and once you let John in on the fact that you’re not a machine, things between you will be so much easier, because you might agree for once.”
“I suppose you’re right.” He grumbles.
He pulls her into his warmth, hooking her leg around his as he snakes his arms around her back, breathing deeply from the crook of her shoulder. She begins to pepper kisses on his salty skin, savouring the taste with every small swipe of her tongue.
“Your heart’s against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck,” he breaks off with a faint whimper when she sucks a little harder, “I’m falling for your eyes, but they don’t know me yet.”
“Of course they do,” she whispers brokenly, hoarsely, “they’ve always known you.” She swallows thickly, “Does that mean it’s a feeling you’ll forget?”
“No, I don’t think I ever can.”
The silent words that pass between them both are so special, too special to be spoken aloud. ‘Think I’m in love now.’
“Kiss me like you wanna be loved.” He begs.
And really, who is Y/N to deny him? They just stay that way a little while, revelling in their lazy kisses, until she begins to fall asleep. It isn’t the first time she’s fallen asleep in his bed, not by any means, but it’s the first time she’s fallen asleep in his arms. She isn’t mad about it.
“Settle down with me, cover me up, cuddle me in. You were made to keep my body warm.” She smiles into her words, and embeds herself into him, entirely covered by the duvet, spattered in his kisses, safe in his arms. Sherlock feels safe with her legs around him, her fingers in his curls, holding himself against her. Amicable silence is how they drift off, Peaceful.
John re-enters 221B at a respectable hour. He got a fair amount of sleep on Greg’s sofa, having no girlfriend in the picture right now, but not enough to deal with Sherlock just yet. Not before his coffee. He expects to see Sherlock sitting in the exact same spot as when he left, perhaps just with a refill of tea, his fingers still steepled beneath his chin, eyes closed yet wide awake. Instead, he arrives at a seemingly empty, considerably clean flat, with no Sherlock in sight. Perhaps the unsleeping man must actually be asleep, he thinks, so he quietens down, and toes off his shoes before wandering farther into the flat. Even if the man does piss him off extraordinary amounts, perhaps he should just check he’s okay…
He gives the bedroom door a quiet rap, listening in momentarily before pushing it open. Frankly, he’d rather have found Sherlock with a cigarette in hand and the whole flat torn to shreds for the level of surprise he gets upon reaching the bed. His first idea is to scream bloody murder, but that might annoy Mrs Hudson, and upon stepping closer, even in the sliver of daylight through the curtains, he sees the duvet riding down a little. The last thing in the world he ever thought he’d see: Sherlock in naught but boxers pressed against a half naked woman, his palm splayed on her bare thigh. Sherlock? Spooning? It seems so, his entire body pressed to this woman. John feels himself go rigid, his feet glued to the floor, his gaze unmoving from shock.
It takes his phone to buzz in his pocket to get him moving, and when he does, all he tries to do is balance precariously on his tip toes in a wry attempt to get a birds-eye view of the whole thing. He’s not disappointed, or disturbed, once he does, though, his army agility proving useful. Sherlock’s hand is holding her, fingers entwined, just next to her chest. He wonders how comfortable it is, but if they’re staying this way, it can’t be too bad. Maybe all Sherlock needed to loosen up was a good shag.
She’s wearing his shirt, too; Sherlock’s black dress shirt from the previous day. And Sherlock? He never seeps in anything less than a full set of pyjamas, he’s weird like that .
This girl begins to stir, her lips parting gently, small hums escaping. Next, her eyelids flutter, and her hair shifts on the pillow. He didn’t make any noise, did he? John was specifically careful not to, just in case. He doesn’t fancy Sherlock’s wrath just yet.
One eye opens, and she whispers, almost incoherently, “Hi John.”
How she knows his name and who he is, he’s not at all sure, because he doesn’t think he’s ever seen this face in his life. The hair is familiar, and maybe, if she were more awake, he’d recognise her smile, but he’s never seen a woman in Sherlock’s company beside Molly Hooper. Speaking of…
Before he can even say anything, though, before he can ask who she is or if she wants tea or if she date-raped his roommate, she’s mumbling, and detaching her hand from Sherlock’s, rolling over. Dumbfounded, John just stands there and watches her cuddle into Sherlock’s chest, her arms wrapping around his torso like second nature. Even in his sleep, not consciously thinking about his actions, he grips her back - one hand resting just above her bum, and buries his nose into her neck.
John can’t help but smile to himself. Maybe their fight was for the best if Sherlock now has a girlfriend, someone he turned to for solace. So, he grasps for the top of the duvet and pulls it up over both of their figures, reaching their shoulders, and leaves, staring wistfully for a brief moment at the seemingly happy couple.
The weight of the duvet of what startles Sherlock, though, stirring him a little, inviting him to him against Y/N’s skin, smiling with eyes barely open. This is really nice, he thinks to himself, not waking up alone.
She smiles back blearily, and in her morning voice, whispers to him, “Kiss me Mr Detective.”
#sherlock#sherlock holmes#bbc sherlock#johnlock#sherlolly#mystrade#sherlock smut#sherlock fanfic#sherlock imagine#sherlock holmes imagine#sherlock holmes smut#william sherlock scott holmes#mycroft holmes#molly hooper#dr john watson#sherlock bbc#john watson#sherlock x oc#sherlock x reader#sherlock fluff#sherlock angst#sherlock fic
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Secrets part 3 Peter Hale
Paring - Peter Hale x Reader
Warnings - smut finally
Part 1. Part 2
You drove straight to Derek’s, still feeling a little shaken up after what Theo had done. Outside Peters Shelby wasn’t there, you didn’t know if you were happy or sad not to see it. When you got inside to your surprise Peter was there sat reading his book. He’d actually agreed to car pool with you.
Stiles and Liam both cheered as you walk in, Stiles calling you a good luck charm after the win today. How you managed to get coach to listen to your ideas. For the next few hours you all laughed, talked, drank and ate.
It was at this point, Derek being one of the closest to you noticed your neck. “what happened” he said, Peter now in his feet coming over to see. You explain about Theo’s threat and how he tried to strangle you.
“I’m gonna kill the little runt” Peter said heading for the door. You grabbed his arm, stopping him.
“don’t, Stiles’ dad’s took him, Coach is having him expelled and if he’s stupid enough to back at me then you all have my permission to kill him. But for now can we just forget about it” you say to him. Peter clenches his jaw but agrees he’ll leave Theo to sheriff Stilinski for now.
You watch Peter return to his book as Lydia pulls you to one side asking to talk. Stepping away to a more private part of the loft you wait to see what’s wrong. “what’s going on with you and Peter?” she asks outright.
You blush “nothing, what do you mean?” you say coyly. Maybe you needed to tone down your stirring at the handsome wolf.
“I seen him today at the game, his arms around you before fighting with Theo. Are you two dating now?” she asks a little concerned.
Shaking your head no “that was to wind up Theo. Peters version of leave her alone I think, not like it worked” you told her, not really sure why Peter had started on Theo the way he did. “and besides even if I did like Peter, I don’t think he likes me like that”. You say looking down not letting her see the sadness you felt.
“oh, I doubt that. The way he is around you, looks at you. I think Peter likes you, I’ve always thought that especially after you saved him” she says.
You wished it was true but knew differently, you’d kissed him wanted more he told you no. “No, I think Peter just likes the game, I know he wouldn’t want me like that” you say hoping to end the conversation.
Lydia eyes you suspiciously but doesn’t question it. She looks over at Peter who watches y/n out the corner of his eye like he’d always done. She was going to ask him but knew Peter would never tell her the truth.
Peter sat just watching everyone else, what he always did when Scott used the loft for after games celebration. It was only pack members but for Peter it was still way too many.
He glanced over to y/n now she’d finished her chat with Lydia, he was about to gain your attention until Liam got it first asking her to dance. To Peter’s annoyance you agreed, going over to dance with him, Lydia, Stiles and Malia.
Peter growled watching as they young pups hands tried to move down your body. He found himself thinking how dare Liam touch what’s his, even if you wasn’t, its all Peter truly wanted. He hated even more you hadn’t stopped it. That you just moved slightly so he wasn’t touching anymore still laughing and dancing.
For the third time Liam’s hand come inches away from your ass. This time you decide not to move out of his way, nope you decide to see Peter’s reaction. Your eyes lock with his, he’s stirring with a snarl. You wink at him hoping to push him to come over do or say something but he doesn’t. He gets up and walked to his old room. You sigh Peter hadn’t got jealous.
With Peter gone and the song finished you went to find something to drink. Everyone turned seeing the loft door open, Cory walked in scanning the room. Mason was happy to see about to give him a hug but Cory walked past him straight to Scott, his eyes flicking to you.
“Theo’s been arrested and he thinks Peter is up to something. He says Peters an alpha and y/n’s in danger” Cory blurted out. You sigh, it wouldn’t take Theo long to spill Peters secret.
Everyone looks at you, taking one or two breaths trying to keep your heart beat stable. “is this true” Scott asked.
“not as far as I know” you say hoping the wolfs wouldn’t notice the lie. After being with Theo you learned how to control some tell-tale signs of lying. “Theo has been arrested for trying to kill me” you tell Corey showing him your neck. So now he’s using lies, he knows I’m living in Peters and trying to find a way to turn you lot against him. Peter wouldn’t hurt me, in fact Peters been more respectful in the last two weeks than Theo has in two years. So what ever he’s told you Cory ignore it, I would.” You say hoping the rest believe you.
Derek agrees “y/n right Peter would never hurt her, yes he’d hurt a lot of people but I don’t think he’d do anything to her” he says knowing his uncles not so secret feelings for y/n. Although the Peter being an alpha was something Derek wasn’t sure about, it’s possible but surely he’d know.
Peter walks down the stairs “what have I meant to done now” he smirks. He’s eyes meet yours a small head tilt and smile tells you he’d heard what you said.
“Theo thinks your an alpha” Scott says eyeing up Peter, arms folded, more or less asking the question without words.
“if I was Scott, you’d be dead” Peter jokes knowing they wouldn’t question it more. “anyway I’m ready to head home, y/n shall we your my lift” add. You nod saying your goodbyes.
Once in the car Peter seemed quiet lost in his own thoughts. “thanks” he said eventually.
“what for?” you asked not sure what he was thanking you for.
“keeping my secret. You didn’t have to lie for me but you did so thank you” he said.
You smiled, you had promised you’d keep his secret and did. Even if Theo knew the truth you still wouldn’t rat Peter out. “I keep my promises, I’m a good girl like that” you say.
Peter laughs but doesn’t look up at you. “I’m sorry Theo outed you” you say. Peter just shrugs it wasn’t your fault.
“sorry he tried to strangle you” he said, thinking he was party to blame for pushing Theo. Also making a mental note to kill him next time he saw him. You smile back saying wasn’t his fault.
Back at the penthouse you walk in the door, as soon as it shuts you take your t-shirt off, showing of your sports bra. Dumping the top in the washing basket you say to Peter your getting in the shower. Giving him a full view of your body hoping after today he’d still be in a touchy mood.
Peter headed straight to his whiskey cabinet. His mixed feeling were getting the better of him, ten minutes ago he was jealous then seeing you lie for him made him love you so much more. And then your mini show for him then left almost nothing to his imagination.
He downed his drink refilling it, tonight he was going put an end to this dam game once and for all. No matter what you decide he was done playing.
You come down after your shower in short pyjama shorts and top. You didn’t miss the way Peters eyes widened as you walk past swaying your hips.
You watch Peter, he seems off you’d noticed it since the game ended. You smirk a thought coming to your head a way get what you want and cheer him up.
You open the fridge, getting out a bottle of juice, choosing not to have alcohol so he can’t say your drunk this time. You stretch up high reaching for one of the glasses on the taller shelf, making little noises to get his attention. Once you have the glass you smile giving him a small wink but he didn’t smile back. He turns his head away.
You sigh, filling the glass you walk to where he’s sat, sitting on the arm of the chair. “you know sour wolf is Derek’s nickname. This kind of pouting doesn’t look good on you” you say, swinging your legs over his, one foot resting on the top of his thigh, your toes dangerously close to his package.
“what are you doing y/n” he asks, unsure what else to do with his mixed feelings right now.
“I’m hoping to put a smile on your face, plus I owe you a thank you for coming to the game today” you say moving your toes a little to tease him.
He sighed keeping his face straight “I think you should stop y/n” he tone was stern.
You look at him confused, the first night from the bar flashing back at you. Maybe you worry wasn’t for nothing, maybe he really didn’t want you.
“Trying to find a way to cheer you up, do you really want me to stop. Peter.” You say nudging your foot over his cock.
Peter grabbed your foot, “y/n stop, I can’t do this anymore” he said looking you in the eye. Seeing your smile fade he went on to explain. “I can’t play this game we’ve been playing. I thought I could but I can’t.” He says low
You didn’t speak, just watch as he runs his hand though his hair, thinking about what he wanted to say next “I can’t handle your looks, touches the way you act like you want me. I can’t handle you falling asleep on my knee and I certainly can’t handle carrying you to bed and it not being mine. Ever since we kissed that night after the bar, all I think about is how much I want you, how you should be mine. How foolish I was acting like the good guy, pushing you away say no because you were drunk and upset, when I should have been the selfish bad guy”
He’s words were cut off when you grab him, smashing your lips with his. He was surprised by your action and didn’t move, just closed his eyes enjoying the feeling of you on his lips.
You pull back biting back a smile “good, I don’t think I could of handled it any more too, I was hoping you would have said something sooner” you say. This time Peter kisses you, this one more passionate but still light and closed mouthed.
His hand slides up the outside of your leg finding your hip. “I promised you I wouldn’t sweetheart, that night I gave you a choice, if you still wanted me in the morning I’d take you to bed, or promise I’d never bring it up” he laughed as his fingers traces circles on your hips.
You giggle, almost forgetting he’d said that “then take me to bed Alpha” you playfully order.
Peter had other ideas, he pulled you off the arm of the chair onto his lap. Kissing and nipping at you neck “thought you’d never ask” he said flashing his eyes red, scooping you do he can stand with you still in place.
You playfully slap him before kissing and biting his jawline and neck. He carries you up the stairs to his room, finally getting the girl he’d wished for and this time he wasn’t going to let you slip away. Peter laid you on his bed gently, leaning over you stirring deep into your eyes “you definitely want this sweetheart?” he asked once last time. You didn’t answer with words. Capturing his lips on yours pulling him closer for more.
Peter grabbed the hem of your vest top, slowly sliding it up, his lips following the material until he reached your boobs. He nips and kisses the parts of your boos that isn’t hidden by your black lace bra as he pulls your top off completely.
“Peter” you moan. He smiles at you as he comes back for another fast, hungry passionate kiss. He didn’t care how much you beg, he was going to take his time. He was going to make sure you never wanted anyone else but him after tonight.
You watched Peter when he broke the kiss apart, pulling his own shirt over his head. You look over his chest, taking in every line, curve and ripple that makes him. Leaning up on your elbows to get a better, fuller view of him as he started to undo his jeans.
You bit your lip, as he slowly slid them off tossing the behind him. He smirked “like what you see” he chuckled before sliding his hand up your legs pulling down your shorts leaving you in your underwear. This time it was Peters turn to admire you, his eyes raked up and down your body “beautiful” he said coming to kiss you.
Your hands went to his chest, trailing around his neck, as you pull the hair at the back of his head. Arching your back so he can unclasp your bra he throws it the away like he did his jeans. He leans back to look at you again before kissing your boob his and playing with the other one.
Running your hands across his shoulders, digging your nails in as he bites on your nipple rolling the hardened bud in his teeth. You could already feel how hard Peter is, his member pressing against the top of your thigh. You moved your hips to grind against him.
Peter took it as a hint, he gently let his fingers down your stomach, sending goose bumps over your skin. He rubbed your covered core making you moan, under his touch. He smiled feeling how wet you were for him, how your body reacted to him. His kisses follow the same path his hand had stopping just above your pantie line. He pulls them down not taking his eyes from yours.
He only looks away when there off and he kisses his way up your legs biting your inner thighs. You reach down tangling your fingers in his hair as he licks along clit. You hum and whine as he teases you with his tongue, wanting and needing more. “quit teasing please Peter” you say.
“only because you said please” he chuckles, sliding a finger in you. Your hips buckle as he wastes no time finding the spots that make you cry his name. It wasn’t long before he adds a second. He let’s them explore you, taking in the places that make you moan and cry for him. Before bringing his tongue too your clit to increase the pleasure you felt.
Peter knew you were close and didn’t let up swapping his mouth for his thick thumb. “cum for me sweetheart, I want to see you come apart for me” he practically sang. Before you knew it you were pushed over the end, clenching around his fingers, screaming a mix of ‘oh god and Peter’
Peter brought his fingers to his lips humming as he licked your cum from them. Leaning over you he kisses you, you feel his tip at your entrance. He let’s it roll along your swollen lips and cups your cheek with his hand. “I’ve wanted this for so long sweetheart” he says lining himself up.
He slowly enters you, feeling bigger than you imagined filling and stretching you in the most amazing way. The growl he makes, almost animalistic once he’s deep as he can go. “fuck me Peter” you cry, you didn’t have to ask twice, for him to start moving.
Peter was anything but gentle and you loved it. His thrusts were hard and sharp, hitting spots and places you didn’t know existed. You wasn’t gentle too, if Peter didn’t heal, your own scratch marks would have been visible tomorrow.
You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, and so could he. You whine a little as Peter pulls out but before you could moan any words. He flips you over so your now on your hands, entering you again with one fast hard thrust. Once he was settled inside you, he pulls you close so your back is pressed against his chest. His hands on your boobs kissing your neck, all you could do was reach up to grab his hair.
You moan his name loving the new position your in. He bucks his hips sending a new pleasure though you. Trying to turn your head, a new wave of arousal filled your stomach seeing him, sweaty, sexy and those bright red eyes. “Peter, make me yours, bite me” you moan out on the verge of your next orgasm. “make me your little wolf, alpha” you beg. His growl mixed with his dick hitting your g-spot sent you hurling into your orgasm.
Your walls clenching around him as he feels you cum on his dick, mixed with your words send Peter over the edge. His thrusts get sloppy but he doesn’t let up, the sound of you begging he let’s his teeth scratch lightly over your neck but resists the urge to sink then in as he cums deep inside you. “your amazing” he whispers, not caring if you heard or not as he slips out of you.
You fall on the bed, out of breath, worn out. Peter hands you a drink before pulling you into his arms. Kissing your head
**
You laid naked in Peters bed, his arms around you, holding you close. He kissed the top of your head as you made little soft murmurs in your sleep. He was still stunned last night actually happened, that you’d chosen him, asked and begged for him. He hoped it wasn’t a one time thing. He also hadn’t forgotten your high on sex driven request of becoming his beta, butting and turning her. He wasn’t gonna lie, the thought passed his mind. He almost caved as you clenched around him begging to be his, his little wolf.
Peter didn’t do it, almost for the same reason he didn’t sleep with you the first night you entered his penthouse. He worried you’d regret it the next day and hate him for it. He decided he would bring it up again in a few days see how you felt then
He smiles as your started to wake, “morning sweetheart” he says, bring his lips close to yours, kind of testing if it was a one night stand for you. To his delight you lean up kissing him. “breakfast? He asked.
You shook your head no holding him tighter “I don’t wanna move or you to move, I’m comfy like this” you say. Peter smirks letting himself settle. You stayed there almost an hour, sharing hugs and kisses before you had to get up to go the bathroom. Peter kisses you heading down the kitchen in his boxers.
You take a second to take in how yummy his ass looked in the tight silk. When you go down Peter had you a coffee ready. He wanted to bring up what last night meant, if it meant as much to you as it did to him.
After breakfast he’d mentally asked you 10 different ways all sounds as bad as the one before. “what’s on your mind?” you ask him noticing him stirring into space.
“did you mean what you about wanting to be mine?” he asked out right, there was no other way to say it.
You pull yourself onto his lap looking him deep in the eyes “yes I meant it, I meant it all. I want to be with you, be your little wolf I want you peter” you say before kissing him.
He smiles a full happy, and slightly relieved smile. “good it’s all I want too” he says kissing your neck. He promised to bite you on the next full moon but until then you were happy just to be his girlfriend. “you know both Scott’s and Theo’s pack won’t be happy if I turn you” he joked.
You kiss him again, “I don’t care what they think, I want it and I’m happy with you” you say reassuring him. You smirk “buyt until we find a way to tell them it can be our newest secret”
#teen wolf#peter hale#derek hale#peter hale x reader#peter hale imagine#teen wolf smut#peter hale x y/n#peter hale smut#scott mccall#stiles stilinski#lydia martin#corey bryant#Mason teen wolf#part 3 of 3
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caught in the middle (1); m. barzal
SYNOPSIS: For the sake of your friend’s wedding with Tito, you and Mat agree to maintain the facade of still being the happy couple everyone sees you as. But the act comes with its consequences, one more taxing than the other. WARNINGS: language. WORD COUNT: 11.2k A/N: I am so excited for this because it contains some of the tropes I enjoy seeing in fics, and I was dying to also put out some new content as opposed to only reposting my old writing. I wish I wrote this when I was still decent at doing the thing, but I hope that this is still an enjoyable read that makes you look forward to the next part! Title is based off Alexander 23′s Caught in the Middle which is such a good song and I really recommend. Sections in italics represent flashbacks.
PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4
“We’re getting married!”
You gasped, bringing both hands to cover the lower half of your face as your jaw dropped at the announcement. It shouldn’t be so surprising – you would’ve bet even your most prized possession that this was bound to happen at some point eventually – but knowing this was actually now a sure thing sent a thrill through you. It didn’t take long for the shock to wear off and in place of it, your expression mirrored that of your best friend’s: the wide grin, the bright eyes and of course, the giggles of sheer excitement as soon as the news sunk in. Elise was glowing and next to her, Tito embodied the idea of what the world’s proudest man would look like.
“Oh my god!” you gasped, and Elise burst into laughter, not hesitating to jump out of her seat at the same time you did so that the two of you could embrace. Among your squeals and giggles, you could faintly make out the sound of hands being clapped, then caught sight of Mat and Tito hugging. Over Elise’s shoulder and over Tito’s, you and Mat exchanged smiles and you couldn’t help the chuckle that left your mouth as soon as he winked at you. “Congratulations!” you said as soon as you broke apart, though the two of you still held hands. Immediately, your gaze fell down to her hand where a ring now rested, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you hadn’t taken notice of it earlier. “Just—when? How? Where? Who else knows?”
“We don’t have a date or venue set yet, but we wanted you and Mat to be the first to know,” Elise informed you as soon as you took your seats again.
“We have a favour to ask from both of you,” Tito supplied. As soon as he said it, you felt Mat’s hand wrap around your own and the two of you exchanged a brief look during which he squeezed your hand gently, before diverting your attentions back to the soon-to-be newlyweds.
Newlyweds. The immensity of the word sent a discrete shiver down your spine.
“I can’t imagine asking this of anyone else: I want you to be my best man,” Tito directed at Mat.
“You shouldn’t even think of asking this of anyone else,” Mat responded immediately, and the two shook hands on it. You couldn’t help but think that if they weren’t as comfortable as they were now, they’d probably hug again, do their typical pats on the back or fist bump as they usually did, but Elise’s head now rested on Tito’s shoulder and Mat’s hand was so warm, so firm atop your own.
“Be my maid of honour, please?” Elise asked. “I can’t think of anyone more suitable than you and Mat as best man and maid of honour. We’ll return the favour of course,” she added playfully.
“I’ll hold you to that,” you warned without hesitating because after all, you had no reason to – and you knew Mat would agree with you.
Although the two of you hadn’t touched on the subject yet, there was an unvoiced knowledge shared between you that eventually, this would also be you. Eventually, Mat would ask you and your heart would grow and your soul would warm, and you would say yes. Yes, yes, yes.
As you all settled down to hear a replay of how Tito popped the question and Elise accepted the ring, Mat’s thumb began caressing the back of your hand. Though the gesture wasn’t a novelty, you couldn’t help but take notice of the way your heart fluttered each time he seemed to linger more on your ring finger. It wasn’t difficult to imagine a ring wrapped around it but neither of you were in a rush: you simply waited for the right time to take your relationship to a point in which it would become a forever thing, fully confident it wasn’t a question of ‘if’ but rather, ‘when’.
*
This was anything but the right time.
You frown as you cast a glance down at the phone resting on your lap, eyes narrowing a little at the name which brought the display to life for the second time in the space of less than a minute. You click the side button twice, silencing the vibrations of it and from your side, your colleague leans in to whisper to you.
“You can take it if it’s urgent. I’ll fill you in afterwards.”
“Thanks,” you whisper back. “I think it can wait until the meeting wraps up though.”
Luke gives you a well, if you’re sure look as he leaned back in his chair and you flash him a grateful smile.
Still, it is difficult for you to settle comfortably in your seat again and much to your chagrin, you find yourself crossing and uncrossing your legs as if the call had sent some sort of signal to your entire body kickstarting jitteriness you can honestly do without. Not long after you find some comfort and energy to draw yourself back to the present, your phone buzzes again – only once this time, indicating a message.
I’m waiting for you in the lobby.
Fuck, you curse inwardly, locking the phone in frustration. As quietly as you can, you gather your notebook and work tablet then lean in towards Luke who met you halfway. “Have to run but let me know if I miss anything important.”
“At the current rate, I wouldn’t count much on it but will do anyway,” he states as quietly as he can and the two of you exchange sly, conspiratorial smiles before you excuse yourself quickly and very quietly while making a swift exit.
Internally, a string of curses follow without a break in between, and you have to physically bite down on your lip out of sheer fear one might unconsciously slip out. If anyone would be in your shoes, though, they wouldn’t blame you for it. You are the type of person to stick closely to any plans and agreements made, so the fact that he just chose to turn up so unexpectedly doesn’t sit right with you. Not anymore, that is. Besides, you had both agreed to do this after your workday ended as opposed to midday and definitely not in this place. Now, you have to brace yourself for coping with a foul mood on top of whatever else the rest of the day would throw at you.
“You’ve got a visitor,” Rachel announces quietly in a sing-song voice from behind the reception desk as you approach. She doesn’t bother masking the giddiness in her tone and you struggle to work up as genuine of a smile as you can when she nods her head towards the waiting area.
“Thanks, Rach.”
“Bet he must be so happy your redeployment to the Baltimore offices was cut short so quickly,” she coos.
“Sure is. We’re still on for tonight?” you ask quickly in an attempt to drive attention away from the subject before she can try to lead into it too far for your own comfort at the moment.
Rachel’s smile falters a little, her expression somewhat quizzical. “Don’t you want to postpone so you could spend some time with him? You only just got back yesterday, after all.”
You swallow uncomfortably before shrugging. “We’ve got plenty of time to do that. So tonight, okay? I’ll catch you later.”
“Your call. See you then, Y/N!”
You only had just a split second to brace yourself for what is ahead of you, so you draw in a breath then slowly exhale it as discreetly as you can while cutting your way across the lobby. Since agreeing to this meeting, you prepared yourself as best as you could, imagining every single scenario and devising the appropriate plan for it: from the way you presented yourself to what you said, you had a mental plan for everything including a few backups just in case. The only thing you hadn’t factored in, apparently, was how little was under your control and you hated that. Each step you take made you feel less and less prepared for what is ahead, and the thought rattles you. If you were swift enough on your feet, you could just about make a quick turn and dip into the hallway leading to the visitor restrooms. All you need is just a few more seconds. A little alone time for you to run over your lines in your head.
Except—
Mat looks up at the same time you take a step sideways, ready to bolt towards temporary safety. His eyebrows rise a little as if surprised by the sight of you, but you refuse to appear outwardly deflated by the turn of events. Instead, you square your shoulders, tip your head back a little and arch an eyebrow. You can do this. You note he is dressed casually, and his hair is pushed back underneath a black cap.
Unless there was a change in schedule, Thursdays were scrimmage days.
Your jaw clenches ever so slightly as you recall that with so much ease. Then again, you basically built up a collection of information that was practically helpful or useful to exactly no one over the course of the past few years. It’ll probably take just as much or maybe more to replace that with something different, so you try cutting yourself some slack whenever you are willing to.
“I thought we agreed on five thirty,” you state coolly, pitching your voice at just the right tone to also express surprise.
Mat pushes up from the armchair, returning whatever magazine he’d picked up back on the nearby glass table. “Sorry, I tried calling earlier this morning to ask if we can reschedule but it went straight to voicemail.”
Oh. You mentally curse yourself for not charging your phone as soon as you made it home from the airport the previous night or bothering to check the voicemail message you’d been notified of once it did begin charging earlier this morning at your desk.
“They rescheduled the viewing of the new arena for this evening, and I was in the area, so I thought I’ll drop by just in case,” Mat continues, throwing a cursory glance around the place though to you, it seemed more like a way of having a break from the eye contact. You don’t complain; you welcome that.
You open your mouth, ready to berate his poor timing but even you could admit you carry some fault here too. Only a little. You bite down lightly on the tip of your tongue, before nodding towards the seats though you didn’t wait for Mat; you sit, deciding he could make up his own mind if he wanted to follow or not.
“How was Baltimore?” he asks after a few moments of awkward silence while settling in the same armchair he previously occupied.
“Mat,” you say, hoping it comes across as more of a warning than a plea. You can’t deal with small talk and a part of you thinks that’d make the entire deal even more difficult to go through with. He presses his lips together into a thin line and you take that as your sign to continue. “Elise told me she’d like us to be at the venue a day in advance of the rehearsal dinner if we can. I’ve already arranged my leave for that, so it’s not a problem for me. I’m planning on making my way there sometime tomorrow afternoon.”
“We can go together then. I can pick you up after work.”
“There’s no need—”
“Y/N.” The sharpness of his tone catches you off guard and you can swear Mat was equally surprised by that, though only for the briefest of moments. He slides forward a little in the seat almost as if he is more than ready to leave but Mat has never been one to back down so easily and you doubt any of that changed during the course of the past three months or so. “You were the one who insisted we go through with this and I’m trying. I really am, but you’re not giving me anything to work with. So please. Let’s just put everything to the side, do what we need to do and then it’s done.”
Done. Like it is a task, like it is something you needed to cross off a to-do list, scrunch it up then trash it.
The finality of the word is so heavy that it feels as if it had managed to knock out all the air in your lungs. You and Mat were running headfirst towards a fork in the road, and deep down you knew that was truly it. If until now the two of you have been dancing around each other, playing pretend as if you were kids living in a world of fantasy, you know that eventually, you have to let light shine on the truth: whatever lay ahead, you and Mat could no longer walk the same paths. It is just a matter of admitting it not only to yourselves, but also to the people you were lying to.
Lying for, you prefer.
Defeated, you slump in your own seat a little, legs crossing and fingers tapping lightly against the back of your notebook. “Be at my place by two. I’ll have everything that I need ready the night before so we won’t need to wait around.” A pause, and then, “how’s Tito?”
Mat lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug. “Excited. Nervous. It’s the only thing he talks about in the locker, outside of it, on ice and off ice. How’s Elise?”
“Same deal with her. I never knew there were so many shades of blue before, but I’ve been proven wrong before.”
A pause follows that could easily be attributed to the group of people rushing into the building and allowing noise from the street outside to filter in while the doors were kept open, but you can tell there is more to it than that if you are to go by the shift in Mat’s expression. His expression changes and you find you can’t quite read into it or guess what could be going on through his head. You try not to focus much on the little voice inside your mind that was bothered by it but find it takes a considerable amount of effort to do so. Force of habit, you conclude.
“You don’t say,” Mat finally responds. There is a hint of accusation in his tone. Or regret. Maybe both.
Your lips press together firmly, a light frown forming on your face but chose to let that slide. Not only is the lobby of your workplace the least suitable place to have an argument about the two of you, but you find that even those short moments of seeing Mat face to face months after you called it quits appears to take a toll on you. You feel tired, worn out and willing to be the first one to back down for once.
It is cruel irony that a big red neon EXIT sign is visible from the corner of your eye.
You release a quiet, long sigh then stand up from the seat. “Well, I guess we’re done here? I do have another meeting to prepare for, so…” You trail off, already backing away a few steps.
Mat opens his mouth as if ready to say something else but promptly presses his lips together, deciding against it. He gives a swift nod of his head then stands up. It’s then you notice the two Styrofoam cups in front of him and the neon EXIT sign imprinted in your mind starts flashing temptingly at you. Mat is a step ahead. He holds out one of the cups towards you and you are ready to tell him off for it, but he cut in.
“Thought I wouldn’t drop by empty handed.” When you don’t make a move to accept it, his eyes briefly peek behind you. “Rachel’s all eyes this way, by the way,” he informs you and a brief glance over your shoulder confirms Mat hasn’t been lying.
As soon as you turn to look towards the reception desk, Rachel grins, waves quickly at you then turns back to her computer screen. Begrudgingly, you accept the cup of coffee and force a tight smile.
“See you soon,” you say by way of greeting and didn’t wait to hear a response from Mat.
It isn’t until you scan your pass to cross the security barriers and make a turn out of sight that you take a sip from the drink and almost immediately wish you didn’t. It’s your order to a T. The two of you even brought a coffee machine that would let you replicate it on days when you didn’t feel like leaving the comforts of your apartment, especially days when Mat didn’t need to get up early for practices or scrimmages or evening games. It stayed with Mat when you left and the memory left a bitter taste in your mouth, despite the gentle sweetness of the beverage.
Without thinking twice, you throw the cup in the nearest trash can.
*
As soon as your order is set on the table, you ignore the basket of fries and reach straight for your glass to take a long sip from the straw, letting out a content sigh as soon as you felt satiated enough.
“Long day,” you state in response to Rachel’s raised eyebrows but she seems to accept that by raising her own glass. You clink yours against hers, take a smaller sip then set it back down on the table. “What time do you think you’ll make it over to the hotel?”
“Well, I was thinking of trying to get there by midday on the day of the rehearsal dinner but it’s starting to look more like late afternoon. I’m…” She trails off, and you can just about pick up on her hesitation and the way her gaze shifts over to the side momentarily as if avoiding something or considering whether to continue that. You move in your seat, peeling your back away from the plush backrest to lean in a little closer.
“You’re…” you trail off, voice peaking just a little into a question in an attempt to prompt her to continue.
Rachel takes a deep breath in, shoulders visibly drooping and when she looked back at you, she did so with a look that could only reflect…shame? Embarrassment?
“Luke and I are sort of thinking of coming along together.” At the sight of your widened eyes, she quickly adds, “just as friends! We’re still working out through a few things and we’re taking it slow. As in, much, much slower than the first time around.”
“No way! That’s… Rach, that’s so good. I’m happy for you both, seriously.”
You find that you truly believed that, though it wasn’t a surprise to you. You had introduced Rachel to Luke while she visited you in Baltimore and at the time, he worked with you there also. Initially, you didn’t think much of it - you simply invited her to come along to a few after work drinks and the two kicked it off easily that night. Very easily apparently, because as the night started coming to an end, Rachel prompted you to go ahead without her. Ready to say you weren’t going to leave her own her own, you shortly found out exactly why: you watched with plenty of amusement and fascination as she and Luke climbed into a taxi together and whizzed off to his place, undoubtedly. That was pretty much their start and continuation. Her visits to Baltimore were more frequent and though you were seeing her often enough, it definitely wasn’t as much as Luke saw of her. And you were fine with that. They fit almost perfectly and it only took a few more meetings for them to label themselves as a couple.
Things began crumbling as soon as Luke had moved to the New York office just a few weeks before your own return. While he seemed fine with the idea of Rachel working in the same place, that wasn’t also her take on things.
“It’s weird,” she told you through the phone. “It just… It’s so weird. I’d be seeing him at my place or his and in the office? No thanks. That’s way too much for me, you know?”
It made sense, of course, and though you rooted for them, you didn’t want to push her into something she wasn’t comfortable with. Yet, there was a tremble to her voice, a sort of uncertainty that made you think otherwise. It wasn’t that Rachel didn’t have any feelings for him - maybe she was simply shocked to see him walk through those glass doors one morning to pick up his brand new ID and claim what would soon become his permanent desk across from yours.
“Thanks,” she tells you, pulling you back into the present. “But like I said, slow and easy does it. We’ve been talking more and that makes a huge difference.”
“For sure. If communication isn’t the backbone of a relationship, I don’t know what is,” you agree and wasn’t that ironic? You’re hardly in the position of giving any relationship advice at all or saying what is good for one and what isn’t. Not anymore. Not when your own had fallen apart.
Rachel grins. “You’d know. You and Mat have been together for… how long now?”
You should’ve seen it coming a mile away. You swallow uncomfortably, take another sip of your drink and take a few fries just to buy yourself a little more time. “Maybe four years? Don’t really keep track of that anymore,” you said as casually as you could muster, lifting your shoulders in a shrug.
“I think I’d stop doing that eventually too at the rate you two are going. Honestly, I would’ve bet anything you would’ve been the first to tie the knot. Actually, thinking about it,” she says, clicking her fingers in recollection, “Elise said the same thing to me the other day when we caught up on the phone. She went—“
You don’t really register her words. There is a low ringing in your ears and an uncomfortable draft sweeps in the locale as the entrance door somewhere behind you is being kept open, no doubt a large group making their way in; it sends shivers down your body, but really, you are pretty sure you can’t only attribute them to a brief gust of wind. After all, your sweater is keeping you sufficiently cosy and warm. In front of you, Rachel continues praising your relationship with Mat, talking about how anyone took a look at you both and would say, whatever they have going, I want it too and you are trying so, so hard to block out as much as you can of it. You can stop her, of course; distract her with whatever random topic and you know she’d go with it but your jaw is locked in place, teeth clenched uncomfortably. You blame that and the way your nails dig into the palms of your hands on the sting behind your eyes and the sudden heaviness weighting down on your chest.
It isn’t so much the pain of your relationship ending that was rendering you in a state of daze, but the shame of what you and Mat agreed to do: pretend the two of you were still the happy couple Elise, Tito and everyone else thought of you as just to not spoil whatever luck they thought you’d be passing on to them by being their main witnesses. And then, once the event passes and they would return to New York from the honeymoon you and Mat would soon gift to them on their wedding day, you’d tell them the truth. Or part of it anyway. Definitely no mentions that the two of you were childish enough to play pretend; just a simple, clean break timed just perfectly with your request to be permanently redeployed elsewhere. Preferably, as far from New York City as possible so that you no longer have to walk the streets you once both did or yearn to once again visit that perfect pie place the two of you once dubbed your own.
“We’re not together anymore.”
The words stumble out of your mouth in a desperate now or never manner. Despite the anxiousness that came with the act, you find relief in it also. It feels freeing to be able to admit the truth to someone that isn’t only yourself though perhaps you should’ve thought of this more carefully: the idea of now needing to come fully clean to Rachel is somewhat daunting, mostly because of what she might say in response to the front you and Mat are trying to uphold. But for the first time in what feels like too long, you no longer feel like a fraud; like a person lying to everyone around them.
“Wait.” Rachel frowns, and it was obvious she doesn’t quite know what to do with that information or how to best process it. Her head tilts a little, palm idly rubbing against the side of her neck so you take the initiative to come across as unbothered by this as possible by leaning into the seat, legs crossing as you fiddled with the drink’s straw. “What? I’m confused. Didn’t Mat just drop by earlier? You two seemed okay. He was…fine when he came in. We didn’t talk much, sure, but he was all smiley and just…normal.”
You laugh quietly and shortly. “It’s been a while now. Maybe two or three weeks before I left for Baltimore, I think. It’d be pretty worrying if he was still hung up about it. After all, we both agreed on it. And this,” you add, a little more disheartened and embarrassed. “This…thing we’re doing. We promised Tito and Elise we’ll be there for them on their big day and we will. But they had this… I guess, idea of us being an ideal couple. Whatever that is,” you continue more quietly and with a roll of your eyes. “He wanted to tell Tito, but I didn’t want to spoil Elise’s day, you know? So he agreed. Took some convincing because it feels so… Gosh, it sounds so stupid, doesn’t it? Pretending we’re still together just to spread some fake cheer around.”
“Oh, honey…” Rachel whispers and you read the sympathy in her voice. Not that she makes it particularly difficult to take note of. “But… I thought everything was okay. Actually, way more than okay. Perfect, even. What…uh—“ She trailed off awkwardly, but you could easily fill in that gap.
What happened?
You bring the beverage to your mouth, this time drinking from the glass directly as opposed to using the straw. The mixer stings your throat this time around but the small ice cube you take into your mouth numbs it away pretty quickly. Slowly, you chew it to small pieces and speak only when you finish it.
“I thought long and hard about this the first few weeks after we called it quits,” you admit. “We always talked about what bothered us or if there was something on our mind, but at one point we just… We stopped wanting to compromise. When I was put forward for Baltimore, it was going to be a permanent thing. Mat was happy, sure, but I could tell he wasn’t being entirely honest with me, you know? When I called him out on it, he asked me well what about us? And I said we’d be fine. Baltimore isn’t a different continent. It’s not even a different timezone. He could come over when he had free time and if he didn’t, I’d always spend weekends in New York anyway. It’s Baltimore, Rach. Not fucking San Francisco or whatever. Eventually, he told me exactly what was on his mind: he couldn’t do long distance. Not even for a short period of time while I figured out if Baltimore is really what I wanted. Isn’t it a bit hypocritical, though?” You question, but it’s clear Rachel feels a bit awkward about giving her take on it right now, so you make it easier for her by responding to your own question. “I felt lonely too when he was on the road. I was worried he’d find someone different, someone much better while away. He never gave me a reason to doubt him, but a small part of me still thought what if. This happened right before he was on the road again, actually. We didn’t call, barely even texted those weeks and then when he returned, we decided it’d be best to break up. Didn’t take us a long discussion to get to that conclusion because at that point, it just… I don’t know. It felt like we didn’t have much to say to each other.”
Rachel presses her lips together, the frown still on her face and hesitantly, she asks, “who said it first?”
“I did,” you respond without hesitating. “He wanted a break while we work it all out but come on, Rach, a break? Look me in the eyes and tell me people really believe in breaks and they come back to each other as if nothing happened.”
“I mean…” she trails off, pointing at herself by way of explanation. “Look at me and Luke, I guess.”
You shake your head. “Nope. Not the same thing, trust me. This was for the best, Rach. It’s much neater to call it quits. That way, neither of us will feel obliged to hold back if life puts something different ahead of us.” You pause for a moment, teeth biting into your lower lip. “They said they’ll always have me back there if I decide on it, so who knows. Once I wrap up the project their called me back for, I might just take them up on it. Not quite a promotion, but it’ll be a good sidestep and maybe a change of scenery is what I need.”
“And do you think it’s good? What the two of you are doing right now?” Rachel questions, not at all deterred by your weak attempt at trying to divert conversation to a more work related topic. “And I don’t mean it just for Elise and Tito’s wedding, but for you and Mat generally speaking. I mean… the two of you have been together for a pretty long time. Doesn’t it… Isn’t it odd?”
“It’s not normal, that’s for sure,” you confirm. “But it’d be weirder for everyone if we were to tell them we’re no longer together given we’ve been asked to do what we need to do. Rach, promise me this stays between us, okay? Promise. I know how it sounds, I know how it’ll look but trust me on this, okay?”
She fixes you with a sceptical stare, a look that holds yet more questions than certainty but eventually, she nods her head and relief washes over you at the gesture. “I’m sorry it happened, Y/N,” she offers, voice warm and sympathetic as she places a hand on the table palm up. “And I’m sorry you went through it alone.”
You smile softly and reach for it, returning the squeeze she gives you. There is comfort in the gesture, comfort in her words and you find yourself rooting for it, so grateful to have received it. “The worst part is over, but thank you, Rachel. “It means a lot.”
“Feel like carpooling with Luke and I?”
“I’m good,” you assure as you both relax back into your seats. “Elise wants us there the day before the rehearsal. I guess just to have some familiar faces around that aren’t just wedding planners, so Mat and I agreed to go together tomorrow. Promise I won’t lose my shit if our song plays on the radio,” you add jokingly and find yourself laughing along with Rachel.
“What song’s that?”
Too many, you think, although one in particular stands out to you. “Brett Young’s In Case You Didn’t Know.”
*
A tray containing an assortment of dishes is set on the table and shortly after, an ice cold pitch of sangria accompanies that. Eager to cool down, you reach for one of the empty glasses to pour yourself a drink but Mat’s quicker. He takes them both, filling your glass first before his own. You laugh to yourself and Mat grins at that, briefly looking towards you as he fills his glass. You’re about to take a sip, eager to both quench your thirst and cool down but Mat takes the initiative of initiating a toast by raising his glass a little, elbow resting on the table.
“What’re we toasting for tonight?” You ask, imitating his pose by leaning forward a little. “To our first holiday together? To how perfect the weather’s been so far? To how I mastered paddle boarding way before you did?”
Mat laughs, lowering his head as he did so but when he looked back up at you, he clinked his glass against yours and held it there. “To all of that. To one of the many, many holidays we’ll have together. To this moment right here, to us, to you.” He pauses and the strobe lights of the bar switch from dark blue to hot pink, and the way Mat stares at you in this moment makes your heart race inexplicably. “To how much I love you.”
He takes your breath away. Draws it right out of your lungs and you feel heady. It’s the first summer with Mat, the first I love you from him and it suddenly feels as if this bar is too small for the both of you. You love him, and he loves you too and the only thing you could imagine doing is jumping in his arms but there’s a table between you and sangria topped wine glasses in your hands, and he’s wearing a pristine white shirt that looks incredible against his tanned skinned and there’s a lot of people around (the majority significantly older than both your age and Mat’s combined) so you simply grin and carefully lean forward more, pressing a kiss to his mouth.
“I love you,” you murmur against his lips and even if your voice is low compared to the loud, cheesy country music blasting through hidden stereos, you know Mat catches on to that.
“I love you,” he says right back and before you pull away, he bumps his nose against yours gently, making you giggle.
You both take a sip of your drinks and you smack your lips together, content with the turn of the night.
You and Mat had been dating for a few months, but this was the first time the two of you will spend back to back nights and days together without needing to rush somewhere. Of course, a part of you was anxious about it - while it was easy to spend a few hours together now and then, maybe even the odd night together, it was entirely different being together pretty much all the time. There were habits and quirks you each had that might get in the way, but your worries were soon put to rest. You and Mat had wonderful chemistry together, easily able to spend your time together but also still enjoy each other’s company while doing separate activities. You didn’t want to rush into things and you made no move to do so, but it was ever so easy to imagine what living with Mat would be like. And sure, you were well aware of the fact that it wouldn’t always be sunshine and rainbows; the two of you would eventually transition out of this honeymoon-type period of your relationship, but something told you life would Mat would never bore you. It’d never make you wish for anything different.
“Give me a second,” Mat says and before you could ask him what he meant, he’s out of his seat and you follow him across the bar, a little confused.
He makes his way past the bar, past the pool tables and stops in front of what is undoubtedly a jukebox. Curious, you arch an eyebrow and watch as he fiddles with finding the right amount of change before inserting the coins in the slot. It takes him a while before he finds whatever song it is he wants and it takes enough time for him to make it back to your table before the jukebox and sound system registers the request. You don’t recognise the first few notes at all, much less the accompanying guitar strings but you don’t have time to search your memory for a title.
Mat stops by your side, holding a hand out to you. “Dance with me.” It’s more statement than question and under any circumstances, you may have felt a little awkward about doing this, but it’s the heat of the moment and your giddiness that pushes you to your feet, hand in Mat’s.
The two of you are beaten to an emptier area in the establishment by two other much older couples that were closer to it anyway, and you find that gives you a bit more of a boost also. Mat pulls you to him, wrapping one arm around your waist while holding on to your free hand while you hold on to his shoulder with the other. Your fingers lightly clench and unclench the soft material of his shirt, lowering your head a little and you smile against the back of your hand. It’s so painfully cheesy and there’s nowhere near enough other people dancing along to the song but you love it much more than you thought you ever would.
“Know what I’d invest all my money into?” He asks you suddenly.
You pull back a little, still swaying along with the song. “Cryptocurrency seems like a safe bet right now.”
Mat laughs, that big hearty laugh of his that makes your smile wider and when it passes, he presses a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Well, I’m glad one of us has a good head on their shoulders, but no.” He shakes his head, then laughs again, shorter and quieter as if recalling your response. “A time machine. I want to stop time right here and right now so that we can be as we are for a little while longer.”
“Cheesy,” you joke, despite the warmth coursing across your entire body and the jelly-like feeling forming in your knees. “But perfectly understandable.”
“Eventually, we wouldn’t need it, but it’d be nice to have one for tonight.”
“Eventually? How so?” You question, then narrow your eyes a little, the gesture playful. “You plan on getting bored of me and breaking up?”
“What!” He exclaims and pulls you in just that much closer. He lets go of your hand only so he could bring his to your chin, tipping your head back a little. “Never,” kiss, “say that,” kiss, “again.” The final kiss you share with him is a little longer and you take the liberty of bringing your hand to his chest, palm pressing against it to feel the thump of his heart against his ribcage momentarily. Then, slowly, you graze the tips of your nails along his exposed collarbone and peck his lips once more before pulling away. It’s then that the song’s name and artist comes to your mind, almost as an afterthought. From hidden speakers, Brett Young declares I couldn’t live life without you and Mat gives you a pointed stare. “Damn, he said it before I could.”
“It’s the thought that counts,” you assure him. “Either way, I think I prefer hearing it from you, Barzal.”
“I’m pretty sure I couldn’t live without you,” he recites and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. He sways you both in a more exaggerated manner that makes you cling to him more out of habit than necessity. You’ve known you’d trust Mat with anything, but each day, he seems to do something that makes that thought solidify more and more in your mind. The comfort and safety that brings wraps around you like a warm blanket.
Be it the hot weather, the somewhat stifling interior of the bar, the sips of sangria on an empty stomach, the euphoria of the moment or all things combined, you nod quickly. And from somewhere in the depths of your mind, the very bottom of your heart, you respond with, “I can get used to this day after day. So don’t let me go, baby.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispers, tone full of care and love and warmth. He gives you his promise without hesitation and you know it’s bound to stick.
*
Your phone buzzes once.
I’m downstairs. Need help with your bags?
You push up from the comfort of your couch and make one last round of your apartment to make sure you had everything you definitely needed from where it was placed.
I’m good. Will be down in a minute, you text back but don’t pocket your phone right away. Instead, you stare at the screen for a little while longer, half tempted to scroll through the thread of messages. They’d provide a stark timeline of when things started going wrong and you would probably be able to see exactly how things changed between the two of you from the moment you suggested a mere break wouldn’t do it. But doing that would be like breaking a streak you had going for sufficient time to earn a pat on your back. The journey of getting to a point where you were sufficiently okay with being in Mat’s presence without any other company was a long one and the last thing you needed was to recall how it once was.
You and Mat started out as friends after Elise introduced the two of you just a short while before he started his professional career with the Islanders. She talked about how the two of them met in school and how great of a guy he was; real down to earth, funny and incredibly ambitious - traits she also assigned to you, and therefore thought the two of you would get along great. She wasn’t wrong about it. You knew a little about hockey, going to games every now and then mostly whenever Elise dragged you along but you found that Mat made the game more enjoyable. He explained it to you in a manner that didn’t make you feel belittled or as if it should be something you already knew of, and didn’t mind explaining some things more than once. On the other hand, you introduced him to your own hobbies and the little world you created for yourself in a city as big and busy as New York. You showed him the more lowkey but homely establishments, including your favourite pizza place that - unbeknown to you at the time - would become yours and his, and even took him to a few student bars where you regularly beat him at pool while he showed off at darts. Occasionally, it felt weird to watch him unwind in such…normal places and ways while on other days, he shone on ice and was easily one of the best rookies emerging from one of the country’s most well known sports leagues. Yet despite that, you found that athlete Mat wasn’t all that different from Mat the person.
He never put a front and his genuine manner was refreshing to you, particularly during a time when you were still a college student and a good portion of the guys around were textbook frat boys. Being around Mat was comfortable and safe. You didn’t feel the need to speak a certain way or be a different person, and retrospectively, the way you felt towards him developed almost organically. You felt yourself gravitating towards him and were pleasantly surprised by the moments when he’d seek you out first. A day off here and a day off there until eventually, you found yourself spending much of your free time with him and vice-versa.
Falling in love with Mat was easy. Being without Mat was difficult. But, thankfully, not impossible apparently.
Convinced you packed everything you needed, made your way out with a duffle bag on your shoulder and a suitcase at your heels.
True to his word, Mat was parked in front of your place and as soon as you pushed open the building’s door, he looked up from his phone and made his way over to you. The last thing you needed was to make the journey any more awkward or difficult for the both of you, so you didn’t argue when he took the bags from you to stow them away in the trunk.
“Are you going across the country?” You ask, peeking into the trunk while he plays Tetris with the bags.
“What?” He questions, evidently distracted by the task at hand but straightens up when you delicately place a hand on his arm, pushing him to the side a little.
“You’d think you’re going across the country for like, two or three weeks rather than a couple of days,” you repeat. “Maybe put that smaller bag sideways? That might let the bigger suitcase fit.”
He follows your guidance and sure enough, that does the trick: the suitcases fit perfectly in the trunk and you grin to yourself, triumphant.
Mat steps back, closing the trunk and brushes his hands together. “Thanks,” he says and you nod, heading towards your seat in the front. He follows you inside just as you click in your seatbelt. “I don’t think it’ll take us more than two or three hours to get there if traffic’s as good as it was when I checked it a little while earlier. Got everything?”
“Everything important that is. Everything else, I’ll just worry about and pull my hair out when we get there,” you tell him and you can’t help feeling proud for being able to keep conversation light and as normal as you can.
After all, you’ve known life before Mat and you’re rediscovering it after him too.
Mat laughs ever so quiet, and from the corner of your eye, you catch him brushing his hand across his mouth though he’s a few seconds too slow in trying to mask his smile.
“I think I’ll need to fill up soon, but let me know if there’s anywhere else you want to stop along the way,” he tells you while pulling out of the parking spot.
You nod even if he probably might not see it and take the liberty to scroll through radio stations. Mat doesn’t seem to be against it, so you continue switching to them until, a little frustrating that nothing seems to work for you, you connect your phone to the car and play one of your playlists. A mix of upbeat pop and an assortment of viral tracks fill in the silence for a while, and the act of singing along in your head takes your mind away from how it almost feels as if you’re sitting on needles. It takes a conscious effort on your behalf to remind yourself to loosen your shoulders and stop fiddling too much with your hands, and you’re glad Mat seems to be plenty preoccupied with driving. Once upon a time, he would’ve immediately picked up on even the most mild of your discomforts and tried to do anything he could to alleviate them. You don’t know how much, if at all, Mat changed during the time you spent apart but you want to think that you no longer wear your heart on your sleeve as much and your emotions are much more guarded, especially in his presence.
Apparently, though, there’s only so much he can take with silence filled in by music because once he’s off busier streets, he leans in his seat more comfortably and you can tell he very briefly turns his head towards you. “Think they’ll like their wedding gift?”
You direct your gaze away from the flashing scenery outside to Mat. “Absolutely. Who wouldn’t like it? Trust me when I say Bali’s been a place Elise always wanted to visit and I can’t think of a better time than now,” you assure him.
“If they don’t, it’s on you,” he says and it takes you a beat longer to realise he’s just joking so you huff out a laugh, relaxing back in the seat.
“If they don’t, they can give one of the tickets to me and I’ll happily go there.” You cast a glare out at the scenery ahead, eyes narrowing upwards towards the overcast sky. “I don’t think summer will ever come at this rate. I’m starting to hate it here.”
“Doubt Baltimore was any better,” Mat points out.
“Hardly,” you sigh. “Maybe I’ll ask them to send me to Miami instead. That’d be much better.”
Mat clears his throat quickly, shifting a little. “So, are you planning on going back to Baltimore or... Why are you back?” You catch sight of the frown forming on his face, and he quickly shakes his head as if trying to rid the hint of accusation from his voice. “That sounded wrong, sorry. But just genuinely curious. I thought a permanent move was on the table?”
“It was. Still is, but they needed me back here to wrap up a project. It was a pretty bad move on their behalf to send me there before we had that wrapped up nice and neat, bow and all, but I guess…” You trail off, shrugging a shoulder. “Guess we’ll see what’s next after that. They do want me back there, though. It just depends how long it takes for things here to fall into place.”
“Fair enough.” Another pause, another moment for him to press his lips together in silent deliberation. He did that often, and you wonder if that remains a habit still. “Was it a promotion? I forgot, sorry.”
“All good,” you assure, brushing off the apology. “Not a promotion per se, but a sidestep with just a slightly bigger paycheck. The office there is a bit smaller than the New York one so maybe there’s a higher chance of getting promoted sooner, but I don’t want to jump the gun on that yet. How did things work out for you guys this season?”
The Islanders had a good season, making the playoffs but fell just short of making the semi-finals, you knew that. After all, you hadn’t removed the Islanders game and news alerts from your phone and you put that on your laziness. You wouldn’t shy away from admitting to him you still followed the team’s progression, but you preferred not to.
“Could’ve been better but there’s lots to learn from it,” Mat tells you and there’s a trace of excitement and determination in his voice. “Next season will be even better, I guarantee.”
It’s a staple Mat response, one he always gave if he felt a game didn’t end in their favour or he didn’t do as much as he thought he should have. Sometimes, it took him some time to accept it. Usually, it came to him after pushing himself in training, after going that extra step in the gym, after re-watching highlights or coach videos and always - always, you’d assure him that it takes a team to move forward, not a single person. Always, he’d kiss you and tell you he loves you and always, you’d spend those moments wrapped up in each other’s arms, more often than not with Mat’s head resting against your chest and your leg slung around his hip.
“Plenty of time to lift that cup, Barzal,” you assure him. “Sure, the sooner the better but there’s always a right time for everything.”
“I hope so,” he agrees pensively, and lingers on that thought.
You let him to it, directing your attention back to the view outside and only now and then picking up your phone either to switch songs or browse through a few applications. A part of you feels almost obliged to try and push for conversation but you avoid doing so. The last thing you need is to make it painfully awkward for the two of you and you figure Mat could always do that himself if he feels like it. So, you let your mind wander to better things - to the upcoming rehearsal and the wedding itself, to how good Elise will look and how Tito will be so proud to watch her walk the aisle towards him. You imagine their reaction to the gift you and Mat contributed towards and smiled to yourself, knowing it was a perfect pick for them both.
You don’t think about telling Elise you and Mat had lied to them. You don’t think about passing this hurdle - the final one before you two will become strangers to one another. You don’t think about how the next time you might both see each other again, you’ll both have such different lives that for a brief moment, the surprise of it will knock the air out of your lungs before you remember: that’s him without me, and this is me without him. And you won’t be the first or the last people to break up, but a part of you is certain what the two of you had was unique and could’ve been grand. So much grander.
You become more alert to your surroundings when he starts slowing the car and you notice you’re pulling up into a gas station. As much as space allows you, you stretch out a little and Mat stops right by one of the pumps.
“Want something for the road?” You ask him, unplugging your phone and taking your card from your bag.
“Hold on, I’ll come with you,” Mat tells you and it doesn’t take long for the refill to happen before you both walk into the station’s store, beelining for the snack aisles even if you have only two hours or so until you reach your destination.
“Oh gosh, those are going to be a nightmare to clean up if you spill any in the car,” you groan quietly as he browses through the variety of Nerds flavours.
“But they’re so good though,” he shoots back and flashes a smile that is nothing short of sly when he picks up two boxes instead of one.
“Yeah, until the flavour runs out literally two seconds after you put them in your mouth. I mean, enjoy that but I’m different,” you boast and pick up a bag of sour candy.
“You just like obliterating your taste buds.”
He’s not wrong. Sour candy and spicy foods are your guilty pleasures, and have been for the longest time. You don’t try to look into how easily he recalls that because, you tell yourself, there’s nothing to look into. It’s a mere fact that anyone who knows you would easily recite.
“You’re wrong and you know it, but admitting that is difficult so it’s fine, Barzal. No hard feelings,” you throw back, snickering as you head over to the fridges for a bottle of cold water. Instinctively, you grab another for him and instinctively, he takes your candy and the water to pay for them but you still tag along with him in the queue.
“No shot. I like some spice but to the point where I literally can’t taste anything else? Hey, remember that one time when you made something… Can’t remember what it was but it was so…” He purses his lips and you laugh because yes, yes you remember it so clearly.
“So good you ended up crying over it?” You offer.
“More like, I wasn’t crying but it was so fucking spicy, Y/N, holy.”
“You survived though, didn’t you?”
“I only did because there isn’t a thing you do I don’t like,” he says and then, seems to catch himself but a second too late. “Didn’t like,” he corrects quietly but the damage is done.
You swallow uncomfortably, directing your gaze away from him but don’t hesitate to nod towards the outside. “I’ll head over to the car. I’ll text Elise to tell her we’re close.”
“Y/N—“
But you’re already taking steps towards the exit and out of ear shot, making a beeline for the car. Your heart thumps rapidly and uncomfortable in your chest and find that pressing a palm to your left side doesn’t make it any better. You know it’s an innocent mistake and there are some habits that die hard, but the way he phrased it triggered your fight or flight instinct instantaneously and despite yourself, you leaned towards the latter. You enter the car and take the time to compose yourself as much as you could. The last thing you need is to have a conversation with Mat about this because you didn’t want to have it - it shouldn’t happen for the sake of avoiding making the situation even more uncomfortable. It was an innocent slip up, no doubt, and you should’ve braced yourself to speak of Mat in present tense as opposed to past tense in the presence of others but it comes to you harder than imagined.
It’s odd how you both once knew so much about each other, everything even, and now the two of you are reduced to dancing around all that and making conscious efforts to keep your conversations as short and banal as possible.
You try and busy yourself with formulating a message to Ellie, one that’s long enough to try and make you seem as busy as possible by the time Mat returns to the car, but every line you wrote, every mini paragraph going into dull details about the trip and where you guys currently are seemed like an overthrow. So, you delete that also and simply text her an OTW just as Mat sets the sweets on the centre console and the bottles in the cup holders.
He doesn’t start the engine immediately and your mood quickly switches to frustration. Sure, you hadn’t handled it in the best way possible but trying to have a conversation about it wouldn’t make it any better. Or at least, it’s just something you didn’t want to have to think about for the remainder of the journey.
But he does just that, because that is what Mat always did: he talked with you.
“I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” he begins, “I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did. It’s force of habit more than anything else.”
“It’s whatever, Mat, so just move past it. I did, simple as that,” you tell him neutrally.
There’s something in that response he must have not liked because you pick up on his small huff and shortly after, the car starts and you’re both on the road again. This time, with silence between you and an atmosphere so heavy it makes you wish you weren’t speeding down an Interstate just so you could open the window and let some of the air in.
-
The hotel the wedding will be held at lies in front of you, sprawling and secluded and perfect for an event like this. Tito is already at the entrance and when he spots Mat’s car, he waves quickly while Mat quickly flashes the headlights before pulling into an available parking spot.
“There they are!” Tito says by way of greeting and you walk right into his outstretched arms, hugging him. “Can’t believe so much time passed since we last saw each other. What is it, two months? Three?”
“Three,” you confirm once you pull away so that Mat could hug him also. “It’s good to see you too. Where’s Elise?”
“She wanted to check on some small details and said she’ll meet up with you guys in a bit. So here I am, the welcoming committee,” Tito explained and when he and Mat stepped apart, he reached out to give you another short hug which you accepted. “So how was Baltimore? Don’t suppose you liked it all that much if you’re back so soon. This guy was happy about it,” Tito adds, nodding his head towards Mat who was already busy emptying the trunk.
You press your lips together, displaying a small smile. “Baltimore wasn’t too bad but they missed me here, apparently. Can’t complete a damn thing without my two cents so here I am for now.”
Tito frowns, but the expression is very brief. “For now? We’ll need to talk more about that later so Barzy doesn’t mope around as much as he did back then.”
You throw a quick glance towards Mat but he’s looking away towards whatever interesting spot on the ground he found, pointedly ignoring you. “I’ll have a word with him about it later,” you tell Tito lightly and together, the three of you make your way inside, towards the reception.
“I think Elise is in the room at the end of the corridor if you want to say hi,” Tito informs you and you jump at the opportunity.
You follow the corridor, making a right turn and continuing along the dimly lit hallway leading to what the signs informed you to be Conference Room 1. The door is slightly ajar and you begin picking up on the buzz of activity coming from within and soon enough, you’re face to face with a spacey room boasting an array of flowers and various arrangements tastefully decorating tables and drooping down from the ceiling. No doubt, the effect will be lovely during the night when colourful neon lights can be turned on. You spot Elise easily: she’s in the midst of the room with what is undoubtedly the scrapbook of ideas she’d been carefully putting together since Tito asked her to marry him. Outwardly, she’s all smiles and laughter but you can imagine the amount of effort and planning putting all of this together and working with planners takes.
When she spots you, she squeals in excitement, sets her book down and dashes across the room to engulf you in a hug, making you stumble a few steps back.
You burst into laughter and wrap your arms around her, squeezing her with just enough force to try and communicate how much you missed her but not so that it was uncomfortable.
“I missed you! You’re here!” She exclaims, stepping back to look at you in disbelief then hugging you again. “Oh my gosh, I’m so happy you’re here! Where’s Mat? Is he here too?”
“Of course he is,” you assure her with a laugh. “I missed you too.” You throw a curious glance towards the room over her shoulder, nodding your head towards it. “How’s it going? Need me to take over for a bit?”
“Maybe later. Definitely later. Come on.” She wraps an arm around yours and leads the way out of the room, undoubtedly back to the reception area where you left Mat and Tito. “Please tell me Baltimore is off the table. FaceTime is fine, sure, but it’s not great, you know? I need the real deal next to me. Besides, I’m not sure if you heard, but Mat wasn’t Mat without you.”
“So I heard, but forget about us!” You said in a desperate attempt to try and steer attention away from the subject. “Tell me about how everything’s going. Are you still nervous about it? Because trust me, Elise - you have absolutely nothing to be nervous of. What I’ve heard of so far and what I’ve seen will make it the absolute best day, surely.”
“Of course I’m nervous,” she tells you and to demonstrate, she holds her free hand in front of you and sure enough, there’s just a slight tremble to it. “Please lend me some of those nerves of steel of yours, Y/N, I’d do anything to have even a small percentage of them right now.”
“Pft, as if. Those are all show, trust me.”
“I’ll take even that. Oh, Mat!” She greets as soon as the two of you reach the reception area and Elise spots Mat.
Much like you and Tito, they hug and when she steps back, she immediately stands next to Tito who doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. They exchange a quick kiss and you smile at the happiness and bliss they’re clearly surrounded by.
It’s the slight pressure on your lower back that makes you jolt a little on the spot and it’s then you realise Mat had gently placed his hand there to encourage you a little closer. It takes effort on your behalf to follow his guidance but you move towards him, though you wish you could physically wince at how undoubtedly stiff the two of you must look. Or hopefully, not greatly so because neither Tito nor Elise comment on it or shoot you any funny looks as the four of you engage in brief conversation, mainly surrounding the trip here and any other guests they expect to receive today.
You don’t hang around much, though. Elise’s phone begins buzzing incessantly and she’s whisked away by the message received, but not before she fixes you with a pointed stare and demands the two of you have drinks later in the evening. Tito follows her also, even if he informs you and Mat that he feels as if he’s running around in the right places only because of Elise and the wedding planners, but you encourage him on by joking he could maybe turn a few candles on the tables this way or that for some extra oomph.
“I can’t imagine how she does it,” you admit to Mat once the elevator doors slide shut soundlessly and the car begins moving upwards to your floor.
“Pretty sure it’s not that big of a deal to her, given what all this is leading to,” Mat tells you and you detect a hint of detachment in his voice.
You don’t welcome it, of course you don’t, but you choose to not point that out to him. The last thing you want is an argument to break out the relatively okay mood the two of you have managed to hold, recent events that could be erased from memory aside. Instead, you simply stand back quietly, eyes glued on the red digital numbers aside until they come to a halt on the ninth floor where the elevator stops and you’re both left in a silent, dimly lit hallway.
Mat has the key to the apartment Elise told you the two of you would be in and just before tapping in, he hands you your own copy of it. Up until this very moment, you hadn’t thought very much of the overnight arrangements. You were pretty sure you meant to ask Elise a bit more about them at some point but both your attention and hers were pulled in different directions and here you were, stepping into your place for the next couple of nights, Mat trailing a little behind you.
You stop, arms folding across your chest and you feel Mat stop somewhere close behind you, looking into one room.
“I didn’t think this through,” you state neutrally.
Ahead of you lay only one bed.
#mat barzal#mat barzal imagine#mat barzal fic#nhl imagine#nhl fanfic#nhl fic#*#the synopsis sucks but i'm bad at short summaries lol#i had this idea since i first joined hockeyblr and i'm happy to have finally found the motivation to write it#anyway i have a vague idea for some scenes#and there will probably be three MAYBE four parts to it
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Old Habits
pairing: Tom Holland x fem!reader
summary: Old habits come back when you meet an ex lover after a long time. Conversations feel like you never stopped talking to them. Sometimes you have to see them one last time to say goodbye like you mean it but most of the time it doesn’t go as planned.
warning: drinking
words: 2.1k
a/n: could be read as part 2 of last kiss but is a stand alone. got a bit poetic at the end. hope you guys like it. and as always, love reading your opinions/reactions. also asks are open. (gif not mine)
masterlist
'@tomholland2013 posted a story'
'@tomholland2013 posted a story'
She picked up her phone to open Instagram. Yes, Y/N still had notifications on for his account even after they were broken up for months. Classic Tom.
He posted two of the same picture on his story. No one understood how that would happen almost every time, not even the people working at Instagram to whom they contacted about the glitch.
Tom had his hair slicked back, standing in a white t-shirt next to Harry, his brother, giving a million-dollar smile. They were holding a clapperboard together. There was text on the picture too, 'day 1 let's go!!' She smiled to herself. Just because they weren't together doesn't mean that she wasn't allowed to feel happy for his achievements. Even though she wishes to know all these big things from Tom himself she is, unfortunately, left here, watching a small part of his life flash in front of her for less than thirty seconds.
"Are you listening?" Hope, Y/N's date said.
"Yeah, I'm sorry. You were saying?" Y/N placed the phone back where it was resting, next to the cold wine bottle.
"You seem distant," they said.
When she 'met' Hope (she only really met them 30 minutes ago), Y/N wasn't looking for love, just sex, and that is what online dating specializes in. She hoped Hope knew what they were signing up for, sexual intimacy and nothing else.
"It doesn't matter does, does it? We both know what we are here for. Why not just cut the chase," Y/N replied.
--
It was early in the morning, the sun had yet to shine in its full glory. Y/N could only think of the first time she stayed over at Tom's old apartment but then she turned her head only to find Hope's naked body next to her. Her heartbeat accelerated with the realization that he was not hers anymore. Being in a foreign environment didn't help her growing anxiety, twisting and turning her intestines.
It's been four months, her feelings for Tom refuse to quit on her because she knows she could never quit on them, on him, even if he has. He probably has already found someone else in Canada, she thought. She didn't want him anymore but she still needed him, one last time just to teach her stupid heart how to say goodbye.
Y/N wore her clothes and picked up her shoes, going on a trail to find Hope's door to get out before they wake up. Climbing down the stairs, she took out her phone from the back pocket of her jeans.
'5 new messages from Sam' 7 hours ago
Sam: hey
Sam: ik it's late
Sam: I am going for a run tmr morning @6
Sam: do you wanna come?
Sam: will go to the new coffee house near my house after that
Y/N texted him back
Y/N: I'll meet you at the coffee place
Sam: come fast. already here
--
Sam and Y/N were standing in the queue to place their orders. “You look especially shitty today,” Sam said, running his right hand through his sweaty hair.
“I haven’t been home yet,” Y/N reasoned her appearance.
His mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. The person in front of them left the queue, they moved towards the counter. “One hazelnut latte, double shot with skimmed milk,” Y/N gave her order.
“And you?” the cashier’s question directed to Sam.
“I’ll have a matcha latte with oat milk”
Sam turned to Y/N, “Harrison got me on matcha, and now I can’t go back to coffee”
They paid their dues and moved over to the barista counter to collect their order.
“So, what were you doing last night?” Sam inquired.
“I was on a date, it isn't a big deal though. Just had some needs to take care of”
“Oh, was it any good?”
“It was fine. I was distracted the whole time. Saw Tom’s story about halfway into the bottle of merlot. Couldn’t stop thinking about him”
“Seems…sad. But you know Tom is coming back for the Christmas weekend, I think. He might attend Harrison’s Christmas eve party”
“One hazelnut latte and one matcha latte,” someone behind the counter screamed.
“That’s us,” Sam raised his voice.
--
Harrison had a bucket inside his house, under a sign that said 'drop your tracking devices here' with an arrow pointing to the bucket. Y/N dropped her phone on a pile of roughly fourteen others. Debating whether to see Tom's face was something she wanted or not made her late and not very fashionably.
The house was decorated with empty liquor bottles along with red and green streamers from one wall to another. Everyone was drunk in their best dress. There were no signs of Tom yet. Y/N took a deep breath, walking towards the kitchen to get herself some liquid courage to help her socialize.
The kitchen was rather scarcely populated. Empty glasses were lined up next to the sink. Are they clean or used? Bending down, Y/N opened the refrigerator to see if Harrison had any chilled wine. No luck. "Hey," a familiar voice was heard.
She looked up at the familiar stranger.
"Hey Tom," she smiled. The refrigerator light falling on Y/N made her blush visible.
She grabbed a half-cut lemon placed in the egg tray.
“How have you been?" Tom asked leaning back on the kitchen counter, observing her movements.
Y/N walked towards the sink to grab herself a crystal glass hoping for it to be clean. "Just busy with work these days"
"I heard you got a job at Condé Nast, is that true?" he took a sip from his beer.
"Well, you heard right. You are looking at their new senior brand manager for digital", she said proudly.
Tom hugged her from the side she was holding a knife to cut the lemon for her gin and tonic. "That's great darling! You always wanted to work there"
Darling. The butterflies in her stomach were fluttering like the first time she met Tom.
"I saw your story the other day. You started filming your script, right?" she dropped the lemon in the glass.
"Yup, it was a long time coming," he grabbed the knife she was using and washed it without even knowing. He was so used to Y/N never washing utensils after using them and, he would always have to clean up after her.
"Congrats on that babe!" The word 'babe' just slipped out of practice.
Y/N grabbed a Bombay Sapphire standing still on the marble slab. The blue of the bottle shinning even in the dim-lit room.
"I missed you," Y/N made eye contact, screwing the cap back on. A long, silent pause.
I miss you too, so very much
She cleared her throat, "so, how long are you staying?"
"Going back Monday morning"
She opened a can of tonic water.
"Are you seeing someone?" Tom asked.
"Wouldn't you wanna know" a smirk on her face grew. "I've been out on few dates, nothing serious. What about you?"
"Met this girl online, dated for a bit but, she wanted something I couldn't give to her"
Y/N scoffed, "did she have a foot fetish or something?"
"No, Y/N. She wanted love, not my feet" they both laughed.
"On that topic..." Tom calmed himself, "...I was listening to this song a few weeks ago and, there was this line, 'the smell of your hair reminds me of her feet' and it made me think of you"
"I reckon," she took a sip of her gin and tonic.
"No, seriously, I really related to that line. No matter how many people I hook up with, it will be hard to find the type of intimacy I shared with you. I still relate to it"
"I hate going on walks alone and having faceless dreams," Y/N blurted, lacking a proper reaction.
"You're still the face of all my fantasies," Tom confessed.
None of them knew what to say next. Anything they thought of saying now included walking over the blurry line of exes to lovers.
"You look pretty"
"Classic me, had a glow up after getting my heartbroken"
"You always looked this pretty. You are beautiful," Tom assured her. The 'heartbroken part did not sit well with him. He already felt guilty for taking a job across the pond which was a great opportunity for him to grow but was only possible by severing his ties with Y/N.
--
It had just started snowing on Boxing Day. Tom was alone in his cold home, boiling a pot of ramen noodles. He took out his phone and snapped a picture of the burning stove with the pot on top.
Tom: *attached photo*
Tom: I come back after months and my family leaves me alone with no food
Y/N: you should add a poached egg
Tom: Thanks. I shall.
Tom: I think I made too much ramen for me
Tom: do you wanna come over and share?
Her indecision was visible by the coming and going of the gray dots. Then finally, Tom could tame his anxiety by her simple reply.
Y/N: sure.
--
There was a loud knock on the door. Tom put two bowls of hot ramen on the dining table and went to open the door. Behind the door, Y/N was standing with her hands inside her brown checker coat. There was dust of snow sitting on her shoulders. Her braided hair was made by the most anxious hands in town.
The door opened and, Tom’s hands flew to take Y/N in his arms. They hugged like little kids hug their parents after being away from each other, for them, an eternity. It did feel like an eternity to them too but, they hadn’t forgotten each other’s touch.
“I parked my car at the church, couldn’t find any spot here ‘cause of the snow," she pulled out.
“The snow seems to be gaining momentum.”
Y/N hummed in agreement. She took off her coat and hung it in the Holland’s coat closet.
“Come on, the ramen is getting cold,” she followed tom into the kitchen.
They sat adjacent on the wooden table in comfortable silence. Tom used chopsticks and, Y/N used a fork. Only the occasional noodles falling in the broth were heard, along with the gushing of wind.
“It’s really spicy for me,” Tom said.
“Yeah, I can see your ears turning red.”
She still remembers
Y/N raised her hand to cover her mouth while yawning.
“Since you made the food, I’ll do the dishes,” she got up, grabbed their bowls, and walked over to the sink.
Wearing the gloves, she turned to Tom, “it was quite tasty”.
Tom gave her a smile.
She spread the soap on the dishes and turned the tap on. Tom pushed his chair back to get up.
“Have you made any friends at your new job,” he jumped and sat on the counter next to Y/N.
“Yeah, sort of. Kyara works there too so, I have just made her friends my friends,” she washed his chopsticks.
“That’s good. Have you talked to Emily after the wedding? She told me they are planning on adopting.”
“They invited me over for dinner when they got the approval from the agency. Kyara made this amazing Hyderabadi biryani, it was her mum’s recipe so, it was obviously better than the restaurant”
“God! You and your love for Indian food”
Y/N removed her gloves, “I should go. Thanks for the ramen, by the way”
“Are you sure you can go out in this weather?”
“Yeah I think," she started walking out of the kitchen.
Tom grabbed her hand. “Stay”, his voice was like cotton.
Y/N turned and made contact with his pleading eyes. She moved closer to him. “Please”, he said. They both were inching in to lock their desperate lips.
--
Y/N did not notice when she had fallen asleep talking to Tom. Their naked bodies were covered by the white comforter. Her eyes slowly opened to a boy with brown eyes and messy hair looking at her.
“I like it when you sleep. I love watching you sleep”
She chuckled. “That’s a bit creepy, don’t you think?” She had a sleepy voice.
“You look so serene, the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I could stare at you for eons”
“But love, I'm only here till the snow settles,” she caressed his cheeks.
“Then the cold shall frost our limbs," he leaned in to kiss her.
tags: @elios-timotea
#tom holland#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland imagine#tom holland smut#tom holland x reader#tom holland fluff#tom holland x you#tom holland x y/n#spiderman#marvel fanfiction#marvel#spiderman x reader#spiderman x y/n#spider man#spiderman x you
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CREEP: I’m a creep
HIGH SCHOOL AU
Pairing: Drake Walker and Lexie O’Brien -- Book TRR
A/N 1 This came up to me after I got an ask from @nestledonthaveone
I was listening to my iPod on my way home from work yesterday & Radiohead's Creep came on. One of my favorite songs, and I think the lyrics are great for an angsty Drake fic. It reminds me of him. Could you please write an angsty fic inspired by the song? I love how you write angst!!
I used to hear this song when I was a teenager, so when I read this ask, I immediately wanted to write something angsty but situated in high school.
This is part one of two.
I hope you enjoy it @nestledonthaveone 💕
A/N 2: Because they’re younger than usual, I decided to change my FC --just for this fic. I’m still picturing Michiel and Valerie when they’ll be older though.
A/N3: I’m participating in @wackydrabbles Prompt #105 It's definitely ... interesting.”
Thank you ladies!
WARNINGS: Parental abuse. Eventually some lemons. ALL MY FICS ARE 18+
Tags in the comments.
LEXIE
I’ve always loved sunsets. The entire sky is painted orange and pink, streaking with white light and many other colors; I can’t take my eyes away from it. Sunsets remind us that no matter what is happening in our lives, the sun will be out again tomorrow. It’s raw, beautiful, and comforts me—the thought of the sun watching over me. I sit on my porch, my knees against my chest. I’m wearing a white tank top and jean shorts to fight the intense heat that invades Cordonia in early September. I fix my eyes on the sky, wishing a miracle. Something that takes me away from my father and his new wife. Away from the pain of losing mom.
“What are you doing?” The voice is so resonant, deep, and rasping. Slowly, I sit up and look around, pushing my long, brown hair out of my eyes. I raise my head, and I see him. Drake Walker.
My breath catches, and I cross my arms over my breasts, knowing the thin material of my shirt isn’t keeping me remotely modest. What is he doing here? At this time, no less. I go to school with Drake. We’re both sophomores at Valtoria High School. He’s six foot two, with strong shoulders, and has a knowledge of life in his eyes that boys our age simply don’t possess. We have five classes together, and he sits through them like a statue, his chocolate eyes unreadable. Tall, dark, and angry. Handsome in a hard way that makes the other girls nervous when he walks down the hallways. Not me, though. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve stared at him from behind my locker door, breath trapped in my lungs, wondering what he’s thinking of behind his brooding eyes.
“I asked, what are you doing? This isn’t a safe place to be alone at night. You should get inside.”
“Inside is no safer.” Why would I say that? My first time talking with this boy, and I tell him my deepest secret? His eyes narrow at me.“I mean, there’s not a lot of crime in this part of Portavira.” That loosens the tension in his broad shoulders. “I’m looking at the sunset. I love it. It’s so beautiful and wild.” I bit my bottom lip noticing his eyes dip to catch the action.
“It’s definitely ... interesting,” he says, noncommittally. “There are things I like more.”
“Like what?” I ask.
He shrugs but looks back down at me, wrestling with something. He lifts a hand, brushing the very tip of his fingers down my cheekbone. “You,” he rasps.
Drake’s deep brown eyes look at me with something I’m only on the cusp of understanding. Is it…lust? His fingers move down my jaw, traveling slowly over the hollow of my throat to tease one of my tank top’s straps. “I like you. I can’t seem to stop…wanting. Wanting you to look at me. Wanting you…period. It’s why I sit behind you in all your classes, O’Brien. You don’t know that?” My knees start to tremble. I’ve always wondered how we end up in the same classes every single semester. He’s arranged for it to happen? He…likes me? That much? Say something, dork. Don’t act like it’s not mutual.
As if I haven’t lain my bed after school, when no one is at home and touched myself while thinking of Drake Walker. I must be doing a terrible job of keeping that secret to myself because Drake’s breath begins to grow shallow. “O’Brien.” He drops his forehead to mine, the pads of his thumb rubbing the soft skin of my neck. “Have you ever been kissed?”
I can’t talk, so I shake my head.
“Please,” he groans. “Let me.”
My head is spinning. “Let you what?”
“Kiss you. Finally.” His hands move to cradle my head, making me feel delicate, like something special. His minty breath is close to my ear, setting off an ache low in my belly. “I need to kiss you, O’Brien. I need it.” He leans down and kisses the corner of my lips in the most torturous, exquisite way. My heart is beating wildly in my chest when he puts his soft lips on mine for the first time. My first kiss is an amazing one. He bends his head, and his mouth finds mine with soft pressure. I thought he would be rough or impatient may be clumsy, but I didn’t expect the gentle way his lips caress mine. The way he coaxes my own lips apart before I’m even aware of it. My knees buckle, but he holds me firmly against him. He kisses me as if this wasn’t our first time but our last. It’s the most erotic moment of my life, but all too son Drake leaves my lips. I only feel urgency. Want so deep that it burns inside of me. It has existed between us all along, hasn’t it? Not one-sided. A yearning pull between two people, orbiting each other in the earthly, incongruous setting of school.
Drake opens his mouth to say something, but my name is shouted in the distance. From inside the house. With glittering eyes, Drake drops his hands to his side, though it obviously pains him to do so. He gives me a chaste kiss on my cheek. One second later, the back door of my house opens, revealing my father, his imposing frame backlit by the interior.
“Alexis!” I start to tremble; I try to speak, but I can’t. ““What are you doing out here this late?” There’s a tight smile in his voice. “Did you come out here to retrieve the handyman?” I do a double-take, noticing the strain forming around the corners of Drake’s mouth.
“Handyman?”
“Yes.” My father chuckles, coming forward to clap a hand down on Drake’s tense shoulder. “He’s here to repair a leak in the attic. Liam called you by the way.” Drake can’t look at me now, his gaze cast over my shoulder. Empty. A minute ago, we were equals. But my father’s words have called into focus one very important thing. I’m rich, and he’s very poor. It just didn’t matter. To me, it still doesn’t. But the economic divide between us is deepening by the second.
“Why don’t you get to it?” My father suggests to Drake, his tone hard. “Alexis has to study. She is going places.”
I down my gaze to the ground, humiliation burning up my throat. My father is an expert at belittling people, and he’s just done it to Drake. I want to say something to make it better, to defend Drake, but I know I’ll only be making it worse. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to offer Drake an apology. At school. I’ll talk to him then.
“Yes, sir,” Drake responds stiffly, turning on his boots and stalking toward the house. Behind his back, my father reaches over and digs his thumb into my bicep until I double over, releasing a silent scream. He lets go a moment before Drake glances back over his shoulder, eyes hooded, and my expression is serene. Because I know better than to let anyone see the pain. My father has never been physically abusive, but his temper is getting worse. He hated mom and he’s taking it out on me. As soon as we’re in the house, I run up the stairs to my room and lock the door, leaning back against it. Listening to Drake’s boots walk back and forth in the attic. More than anything, I want to go up there. Feel his hands on me again. Cherishing hands, instead of hateful ones. I ache for that. For him. But an hour later, Drake leaves, and that’s when I face the consequences. My father knocks on my door. When I open it, the look on his eyes let me know it’s going to be worse than usual.
“If I ever see you talking to that boy again, so help me God, I’ll kick you out of this house.” His face is contorted with rage. “Then, I’ll ruin him, too. I’ll make his life even harder in this town. You know I can do it. I can have him cast off that filthy land and no one will ever hire him again. Is that what you want?”
“No,” I whisper.
“No,” he sneers, mocking me. “Never look at him again. Do you hear me? My daughter does not associate with penniless dirt. The only boy you’re allow to date is Liam Rys. No one else.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“See that you keep that promise. Or you’ll both pay the price.” And I pay a good deal of it that night when dad slaps me for the first time. The next day at school, I don’t look at Drake in the hallway. I don’t pause in the doorway of our classes, absorbing the sight of him waiting at the desk behind me. I simply keep my head down and try not to show the bruise on my cheek. On my body and my heart. I could never have predicted he would hate me for it.
Drake
Two years later
I walk past O’Brien in the hallway and slam my fist against the locker to her left, making her jump. Shame, frustration, and resentment have been like a poison inside me, rotting my bones every second of the last two years, ever since that night in her garden when she tricked me into thinking she felt the same. Maybe she did. Until her father reminded her that I’m nothing but a poor handyman. Yeah, she remembered pretty quickly that she’s better than me. Good enough to date a rich quarterback like Rys but definitely not a low life like me. Rich, stuck-up brat. What’s worse is that she fucking ruined me with those lips. She brought me to my knees. Made me reveal myself in ways I’ve never done with anyone. And now? Now she’s left me lonely and fuck-starved for two years. Obsessed with her, unable to let her go and hating her guts for it. Because she won’t even look at me anymore. I’m nothing but the dirt beneath her spotless sneakers. Two years ago, I decided that if she was going to make my life hell by ignoring me after what we shared, then I could return the favor. So I do. By tormenting her. That’s the only term for it. I torture her, and I hate that—I fucking hate it—but so be it. My jaw is close to shattering as I watch O’Brien calmly collect the books from her locker and hurry toward our next class. On top of being a bully, I’m also a masochist because I still trick the school into having the same five classes every year. My aunt Leona works in the front office, and she feels bad for me because of my dad dying and my mom abandoning me when I was still in middle school, leaving me in the trailer alone. Not bad enough to invite me to live with her family, but bad enough that she slips me O’Brien’s schedule every semester so I can match it to mine. Before I follow her, I stop at her locker, sliding something in it, and continue on my way. When I walk into class behind her a moment later, I slow to a stop in the doorway at the sight of Rys kneeling to speak with O’Brien where she sits at her desk—cajoling a smile out of her. She refused to date him two years ago, but fucking Liam didn’t get the memo. No one has as much money as his father in this town. If Rys is asking her out again, she’d probably say yes. If I let it get that far, which I won’t. I never do. She’s mine. Only mine.
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You wake up on your ex's fire escape; wc 2.5k
A/N: I don't really know how to categorize this ? starts as funny, gets into angst with a happy/hopeful ending. I might write this again for another character and make it 0 angst but using Megumi just let this get away from me. Thank you @sixeyesgojo for reading through my first draft, it helped me edit a lot since 😘. Although I have not looked over the ending since I wrote it, I'm done working on this fic so sorry if it falls flat.
CW: Mentions of excessive alcohol consumption.
Suggested listening: song 1 and song 2 you can pick just one to cater your experience (they are VERY different vibes) or switch over around the shampoo situation.
Objectively, there were good ways to wake up. In the arms of a beautiful person, with cold sheets and a warm body, or with the scent of your favourite breakfast wafting through the air. No disrespect to mornings at all, there were good ways to wake up, you were mature enough to recognize this.
A perplexingly rough, wet, and warm sensation gliding across your cheek, while last night’s jeans dug into your waist, and there was a pounding in your head? It was fairly safe to say this was not a good way to wake up.
It spoke volumes for how out of it you were that it was only just beginning to register in your brain that you weren’t at home, you were not even on a bed, and that the continued licks across your face were the work of animal far too large to be one of your friends cats.
“Fucking hell you’re supposed to be intimidating” you hear a voice grumble without much heat behind it.
As you forced your eyes open you are met with an excited dog tapping its paws in excitement of your presence, and the man behind the half hearted grumble. His gaze was unmistakably familiar, but his expression could not be more foreign to you.
“uhm, Hi” you croaked out while plastering a wide grin in hopes he wouldn’t murder you.
His eyebrow raised on instinct in response. You knew he was waiting for you to explain what you were doing, but the reality was you didn’t have an answer.
“I wish I could explain, but honestly I’m not sure what happened – last thing I remember was being bought another shot… Wait, where am I exactly?” You were desperately hoping you came off as charming instead of pathetic given the circumstances.
“How out of it are you?” he scrunched his face in confusion as he muttered to himself. “You’re on my fire escape, it’s in Ikebukuro? Tokyo… Japan, in case you needed the reminder”
It felt infantilizing to have him scold you like this, which only made this next part all the more difficult. You were not supposed to be Ikebukuro. You were not supposed to be in Tokyo. You were supposed to be in Yokohama. What was even more concerning is that you were definitely not supposed to be on your old fire escape, the one connected to the apartment your ex still lived in.
As you painstakingly pushed yourself upright, a warm weight laid on your upper thigh, a furry face nuzzling into your stomach – you wondered if she was aware of tension between you and her owner. You scratched behind her ears, letting Jade know she was in fact a good girl despite the earlier reprimand from her owner.
As much as you’d love to spend the day sitting on a fire escape petting your ex’s dog, you had to go home, you just need to call –
Your phone. Where was your phone? You felt around frantically for your phone, only to come up with nothing. A light sense of panic bubbles in the pit of your stomach, only to be swiftly interrupted.
“it’s already charging, I plugged it in last night, you dropped in inches away from falling down”
So, he was still watching you despite having returned inside long ago. It was difficult for you to parse this sort of gesture, how caring could it be to plug someone’s phone in when you still left them to sleep outside? Maybe he was just doing everything he could to get rid of you. It was too much to try and analyze for someone who blacked out and woke up in a different city.
“Why did you come here?” you hear him bite out from inside. It sounds harsh, but it feels like his stange way of inviting you inside.
“I don’t know what you’ve picked up from these circumstances, but not knowing is kind of a part of the problem. Believe me, there’s no amount of conscious desperation that would leaf me to sleeping on a fire escape, even yours”
You glanced around the apartment to avoid his void expression; it was spotless. But it was even harder noticing, the turned over picture frames, your favourite quilt still on the back of the couch – remnants of the past living in the present.
This tension only increased as a mug of freshly brewed green tea was placed in front of you. How thoughtful to remember you hated coffee, to realize your throat was probably killing you – you would have tasted a creeping bitterness from all these emotions, if it wasn’t overpowered by what was the distinct taste of your favourite brand that had to be special ordered.
He had always complained, there were plenty of good options for tea at the grocery store, why wasn’t that enough for you? It was so much extra effort to special order from a tea shop across town, the only place that you were able to charm the owner into ordering for you.
“How are you still so fucking awful at taking care of yourself?” he spat the words out like an insult, it was jarring honestly. Despite the time away from each other, it was no less strange to feel his detachment.
He moved towards the door beckoning Jade to follow. “There’s a towel and change of clothes in the bathroom, you should probably take a shower. If I’m not back by the time you leave, just lock up before you go, I haven’t moved the spare key.” Without looking back or waiting for a response he left.
You were starting to recognize your growing frustration – you had known him how long? Dated and lived together for a not-insignificant amount of time? Yet here you were, no idea how to interpret this strange morning, much less his last comment. Did he want you to be here when he returned? Were you supposed to leave and act like you had never been there? Could he genuinely be as indifferent as he wanted you to believe? It pissed you that your feelings were probably plain on your face.
You searched for your phone, finding it on what used to be your side of the couch. It felt ridiculous to think you ever had a side of the couch, but you were both creatures of habit and slowly without even thinking you both made your own little sanctuary mere metres away from each other.
You awoke your phone, expecting a flood of texts and phone calls from your friends, only to find nothing. Not a single check in from anyone. You open the group chat and furiously tap out a message.
<Hey assholes who let me go home on my own last night? Anyways good job I blacked out and I’m on Fushiguro’s fire escape! You are all absolutely useless to me I swear to god.>
Your phone vibrates rapidly as you place it down but you’re not in the mood to field their questions.
You’re tempted to leave now, just to get it over with, go home and crawl into bed and forget any of this ever happened. But, you felt gross, it was late enough in the morning that you could run into someone you knew, and you missed the water pressure here.
As you got ready for your shower you surveyed your options. You refused to smell like him, but the only other bottle in the shower was doggy shampoo. Surely dog’s fur and human hair weren’t so different right? Jade did have a beautiful coat, very soft and shiny… You reprimanded yourself for the ridiculous idea, but the point remained, there had to be something else for you to use.
Your brain, far more alert than it was 30 minutes ago, thought of all the things he hadn’t changed, all the fixtures still in place. You had always kept an extra set of all your supplies under the sink. By the grace of all that is good on this cruel cruel earth, they were there, in all their dusty glory, your prized hygiene products sat unmoved under the sink. It would have been sick and twisted to have to leave your ex-boyfriend’s apartment smelling exactly like him, left to spend the rest of the day agonizing over whether you should take another shower.
As you entered the shower you wondered more. He had to have noticed the softness in your eyes, the faint smile you wore just having an ounce of his attention again, the way ti widened at every caring gesture, and falling with every biting remark.
Yes, it hurt every day missing him. Yes, it would hurt if he hated you. But none of that compared to the feeling of not knowing. What were you supposed to do with all these residual feelings that have yet to go away? Were they worth the suffocation or should you strip them away?
You were proud of yourself, all these reminders of what you once had, in a place you once loved, and you had yet to break down, not even shedding a tear. If you weren’t wrapping yourself in a towel, you would’ve given yourself a pat on the back. This victory was short lived, everyone’s strength has its limits and you had taken yours too far past it already. But then you saw it, something you were completely unprepared for.
Laid neatly on top the closed laundry basket was THE outfit. It was nothing special to anyone else, just a grey sweater and loose joggers, but how many days had you spent alone breathing in his scent for comfort while he was gone? How many hard days at work had you reaching for these exact pieces as if they were the cure to all your problems?
Unable to support your own weight anymore, you fell to the tiled floor, tears spilling out, as your already sore throat grew even more hoarse – you felt like everything was collapsing around you. You weren’t expecting to see him, and you certainly weren’t expecting to need him in so many little ways. It was easy to forget how easily he weaves himself into your life, encroaching on everything you do.
The world disappeared behind each shallow breath, and an endless stream of tears you couldn’t control. Your fingers scratch against your forearms repeatedly, trying to ground yourself in some reality you could no longer grasp. It is so exhausting trying to be over him, going through these cycles of strong emotions, over and over and over again.
Suddenly, for the second time in as few hours, you felt an overwhelming weight encompass your body.
Of course, his stupid fucking perfect dog would still know how to bring you out of a panic attack like he had spent so much time training when you started dating. You clutched to Jade as your breathing slowed, but it did nothing to stop your sobs, if anything it was just another painful reminder of everything you let go.
“Uhhh….” Megumi was frozen at the door, for the first time today he didn’t know what to do. His indifferent façade dropped as he observed the scene on his bathroom floor.
There’s nothing left to lose, not for a moment that he has seen this morning have you possessed more than an ounce of dignity, “So that’s it? You don’t know what to do either? You know it’s been a whole fucking year and I still haven’t figured out how to live without you. A whole year and I’m still a mess. I can’t survive being reminded of us, look at me. And yet every attempt to get over you was a knife twisting because they’ll never be you. Now I’m here and I get to witness the wonderful Megumi Fushiguro, unaffected, and you… you have it all together.” You trail off, giving to him everything left in you.
You weren’t expecting the confused and indignant expression on his face, “You think this is having it together?” His voice lightly raising with each word “This place might as well be a sealed shrine to you and our relationship. I haven’t thrown a single thing out, moved any furniture, bought anything new – the only thing that’s ‘new’ is your stupid tea I keep buying even though I hate it, and for fucks sake y/n I should’ve moved out. Every part of me that looks like I have it together is just my version of a mess.” He brushes a stray strand out of your face, his own face moving far too close for this to be purely platonic anymore “y/n I’m no better off than you are, I’ve just kept everyone from looking”.
“So what are we supposed to do with all this?” Your eyes shining, naïve hope seeping through your defenses at the confirmation that he couldn’t live without you either.
“We could try again” Somehow, it wasn’t quite what you needed to hear. “I, am going to get dressed, and then we’ll talk, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” He nodded lightly, pulling himself up and exiting with Jade on his heels.
Dressed in the clothes you thought would burn your skin to even touch let alone wear, you let out a long sigh as you sit on at the breakfast nook. “Look, Megumi, I need to know if you’ve worked through it, any of it? I can’t, I can’t wait another three years for you to tell me you can’t say the words I love you, that you can’t commit to more than a yearly rental, I can’t just have you here I need more security than that”
He pursed his lips, unsure of what he could say to that, how he could make sure you didn’t leave again.
“Megumi, I don’t need you to say it to me today, I don’t need you to commit to anything today, but I have to know you’ve tried that I can’t keep waiting for you”
“I… Just give me a minute, please” his voice weak pleading with you. You waited, knowing better than to rush him, laying a hand on top of his assuring him you weren’t going to run out the door.
“y/n, I’m supposed to be honest and vulnerable, I’m supposed to tell myself that people won’t abandon me just because I give them access to who I really am. I want to tell you I love you, because there’s no other explanation for feeling this way. For feeling like your eyes outshine the stars, that your mind is more brilliant than the sun. I’ve tortured myself for a year with the idea of you meeting someone who could give you everything I couldn’t, and selfishly I prayed they were awful, I wished you were miserable so I pretend the truth wasn’t real that I was not enough for you, that I couldn’t give you what you needed. I’ve never seen a loving relationship, certainly not for long enough to form memories, but I look at you and I can’t imagine anything else”
Your thumb reaches to brush away the stray tear sliding down his face as he spoke to you. Manoeuvring yourself around to be on the same side of the nook as him, you pull him into you, letting him bury his head into the crook of your neck. You placed a gentle kiss into his hair before whispered into his ear “You were always enough, I just needed you to know it too.”
not not a tag list: @satosuguslut @sandyscastle
#megumi fushiguro x reader#fushiguro megumi#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen angst#megumi fushiguro angst#megumi fushiguro fic#jujutsu kaisen fics#im so bad at tagging yall i never know what works or what people use sos#megumi fushiguro x y/n#i give up ok bye
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Better Now
Summary: Putting yourself back out there after a heartbreak is never easy, but you and Ashton are learning that it’s worth it.
A/N: Big thanks to @jessalyn-jpeg for listening to me cry over Taylor Acorn songs while I figured out how to combine her latest releases into 1 fic.
Word Count: 2.6k
And away, and away we go!
__
Aside from the composition book that lay open on the coffee table, the recording room was empty. Face contorting in curious confusion, Ashton picked it up, thinking one of his bandmates had left it behind. But as he caught a glance at the words sprawled across the lined pages in black inked handwriting he didn’t recognize he knew he should have closed it. Songwriting was a very personal thing, and he would hate for anyone to find his own songbook lying around and read the contents. But the words jumped out at him, and he found himself taking a seat, still holding the notebook open in his hands.
“And no one comes to save you, you learn to save yourself. The world, it just keeps going on while you’re going through hell. No, it’s not all that it’s cut out to be. ‘Cuz you can’t hide behind the silver screen. Love ain’t like the movies.”
“Jesus…” he whispered to himself.
“Excuse me?” a female voice asked from the doorway, and Ashton jumped, snapping the notebook shut.
“Uh…” he stuttered, staring at the woman with her hair messily thrown up, dressed casually in jeans and a tank top, a tired but wild look in her bright eyes. “Hi. Can I help you?”
She adjusted the guitar case strap on her shoulder. “Uh, I hope so? A notebook? Standard composition notebook. Black and white colored. Probably impossible to distinguish from any other black and white standard composition notebook. I know, super helpful description. You haven’t happened to see one lying around here, have you?”
“Like this?” Ashton asked, flashing the notebook in his hand.
“It would look exactly like that!” she brightened. Then, her smile faltered. “But that one’s probably yours, isn’t it?”
“Uh, actually no. It was on the coffee table when I came in. I, uh, thought it might be one of my bandmates, but it’s not their handwriting.”
“Oh, so you read it?” she asked. No anger or embarrassment. Just clarifying a fact.
Ashton rubbed at the back of his neck. “Sorry… I didn’t read a lot. Just enough to realize the handwriting was different.” He held out the notebook to her for her to take. “It’s uh, good by the way. Whatever you’re working on. Relatable.”
“Thanks,” she said, taking the notebook from him and flipping through the pages to confirm that it was in fact hers. “I really need to keep better track of my shit… Thanks for finding it.”
“Yeah, ‘course. And sorry again for reading bits of it.”
She waved a hand at his apology. “Oh, it’s fine. My fault for leaving it lying around. Sorry you can relate to it.”
Ashton shrugged. “Heartbreak: part of the standard human experience. Some of your lyrics actually remind me of a song my band put out once years ago. At the time I considered myself lucky to not be able to relate to it. But seeing yours… which is far more poetic than anything four teenage boys could come up with… I’m glad for songs like that. Makes you feel a little less alone in the drowning.”
“Yeah, I’m hoping this helps me at least start to tread water again. How long ago was the heartbreak for you?” she asked, then shook her head. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I should probably be going anyway. Let you get back to your shit, and go off to deal with mine.”
Ashton chuckled. “Nah, it’s fine. It’s been about four months for me. So still recent enough to sting like a bitch.”
She smiled and laughed a bit at his words, but there was a sadness to both. “Two and a half months for me. So just enough to actually drag myself out of my bedroom.”
“And down to a studio where some jackass reads your most personal feelings. Awesome…”
There was a bit more realness to her laugh this time around. “Honestly, not a problem. It’s meant for people to hear, you know?”
“I suppose that’s true. I’m Ashton, by the way.”
“Y/N.”
“Good luck with the song, Y/N. Feel better soon, yeah?”
“Thanks. You too.” She turned to head out of the room, before pausing and turning back around. “What was that song? The one your band made that you couldn’t relate to at the time?”
Ashton’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh. You don’t wanna hear that one, trust me. Cringey teenage attempt at being emo punk.”
“Damn… Emo punk is my favorite.”
Against his better judgement, Ashton pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Alright,” he gave in, pulling up the song. “But you’re not allowed to make fun of me. Like I said, this was years ago.”
Y/N held out her pinky finger. “No judgement, swear.”
Ashton linked his own pinky with hers, and hit play. For the next three and a half minutes he watched her carefully as she stood there with her eyes closed, nodding her head along with the beat. On one hand, he was glad her eyes were closed because it meant that she couldn’t see him watching her, or see his embarrassment. But on the other hand it meant that he had no clue what she was thinking. He hit pause before it could replay again. “Like I said, some of your lyrics have a similar feeling,” he said with a shrug.
She opened her eyes as she nodded. “Yeah, I see what you mean. About thinking you’re getting the fairytale movie ending one second, and the next the ending is anything but happily ever after. Was one of those solos you?”
He shook his head. “Nah. I’m the drummer. So-”
“Lots of back up,” she interrupted with a knowing nod. “Is it because you don’t sing at all? Or just out of convenience?”
“Mostly convenience. In our earlier days we used to split up singing pretty evenly. And then we all got more comfortable in our roles. But I still sing from time to time in more than a back up way.”
“That’s cool. And I bet it makes recording stuff and everything so much easier. I have to do a lot of borrowing or outsourcing to get all the sounds I want.”
“Not in a band, huh?”
“Nope. Just your regular solo artist.”
“That’s gotta get lonely.”
“It can be. But it also means making things in my vision, and not having to compromise on that.”
“Well, if you ever need someone to lay down some drum tracks, or just some company so you’re not drowning alone, I’m here most of the time.”
She nodded, understanding what he wasn’t saying about an intrinsic need to stay out of the house as much as humanly possible. Away from the memories that haunted every aspect of being awake. “Thanks, Ashton,” she said, once again turning to leave, but found herself turning back towards him, another question on her lips. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?”
“Go for it.”
“What’s the hardest part of breaking up? Of trying to move on, and feel like yourself again?”
“Honestly? Waking up, and seeing that empty side of the bed. Hits you like a freight train all over again. That kind of overwhelming sense of dread that you’re never gonna feel normal again.”
“But then you get up, and try anyway, hoping that today it hurts just a little bit less than it did yesterday.”
“But it doesn’t, and you start to lose hope that the pain will ever stop.”
“That’s the hardest part.”
“The fuckin’ worst. But hey. It can’t suck forever. Or, that’s what I keep telling myself anyway. That’s what finally gets me out of bed.”
“And hey! Maybe I'll get a hit song out of it in the process, too.” She feigned a smile, flashing her notebook.
“Oh, that’ll be a hit, no question about it.”
“Thanks. For uh… well everything, I guess. See you around, Ashton.”
“Good luck, Y/N.”
~~~
Y/N eventually did get the courage to ask Ashton for both his company and musical help, on a day when she found it harder than normal to get up out of bed.
She trudged her way into the studio, spotting him watching a coffee pot in the common living area. “Oh, hey,” he smiled warmly as she pulled open the fridge. “Making a fresh pot if you want any.”
She shook her head, grabbing a water bottle and taking a few sips from it. “Can I get your help today?” she asked in a low whisper, hoping to hide the wobble in her tone.
“Yeah, of course. Everything alright?”
She shook her head again, then wordlessly left for her recording room.
“So, what’s up?” Ashton asked when he found her a few moments later, cup of coffee in hand.
“You’re not allowed to judge me for any vulnerability today.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good. Because this verse is gonna be really hard for me to record.”
He nodded, taking a seat while she set up behind a microphone. A soft guitar track started playing, and when she took a breath, Ashton prepared himself for lyrics of her most recent break up. So when her soft voice started singing, “ ‘Cuz after my dad died, even though she never let us see her cry, my mom was broken inside, ‘cause she just lost her best friend. Why don’t they prepare you for that? When the picture perfect life you had goes black,” to say he was shocked was a bit of an understatement.
There was a click of the track, and the guitar stopped, the headphones settling around her neck. “I’m sorry about your dad,” he spoke up softly. “I- that’s gotta be rough.”
“Most of the time it’s a dull ache. A small hum I can ignore if I don’t focus on it. But there’s a few days where the pain is all fresh, like I’m learning the news again for the first time. A shock to the system.”
“I like the juxtaposition of it all. Most of the time when people think of love gone wrong, or ending before we’re ready, it’s the break up. Because the alternative… it’s…”
“Unfathomable.”
“Yeah. It’s a pain that I can’t imagine, that’s for sure.”
“Lucky you.”
He chuckled slightly. “Nah. Not in the way you think. My own experience is fucked, but in the other direction. He left and never gave a shit.”
“That’s rough.”
“It was, yeah. I guess the small benefit is that I was too young to remember him leaving. So for me, he’s always been gone. Haven’t ever known anything different.”
“See, I’m grateful that I at least have my memories of my dad. Even if he’s been gone longer than I had him. But it’s like a double-edged sword. The memories bring some peace. But it also fuckin’ sucks that they’ll never be anything more than that. That I don’t get new ones.”
“Well, I dunno if talking about him helps you at all. But if you want to, you can.”
“You don’t mind? I don’t wanna bore you, or make you jealous.”
He patted the empty spot on the couch next to him. “C’mon, you asked for my help. Let me help.”
She gave a small laugh before moving to sit next to him. “Remember, you’re not allowed to judge me for being vulnerable.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He listened as stories of her childhood fell from her lips. He offered her up the box of tissues on the coffee table when her words got choked, and would gently prompt her into continuing when she stopped to apologize. He provided her with stories of his own childhood when her own stories grew too painful to share, confiding in her the way she was confiding in him. And when the sun started to cast long shadows across the room, maybe not a lot of work had been done when it came to her song, but Ashton had helped her nonetheless, and both of them felt a little lighter than they had been in a while.
~~~
Help in the form of company was given with much less hesitance after that, with Y/N and Ashton seeking each other out with regularity. Some days would be spent with the two barely exchanging a word as they played out various melodies, or wrote new lyrics. Other days were filled with endless chatter as they shared ideas they had, and provided ideas on how to overcome any blocks in creativity, or just swapped more stories. And other days still, he would help her work on her song.
When Y/N finally finished her song, Ashton was the first person she thought of to share it with, dragging him excitedly into the room with her. “Jesus, this is the happiest I think I’ve ever seen you,” he teased with a giggle.
“Do you wanna hear the song or not?” she asked.
“It’s done?”
“It’s done!”
“Well, hit play! C’mon!”
For three and a half minutes they stood in the middle of the recording room while her song blasted from the speakers.
“Well?” she asked expectantly when silence overtook them once more. Then, more quizzically, “Why are you staring at me like that?”
He had an amazed smile on his face, dimples cratering his cheeks, and a soft shine in his eyes. “Staring at you like what?” he asked in response.
“Like you wanna… I dunno… kiss me or something…”
His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Then the soft look was melting away into confusion. “Cuz sometimes I think I want to.”
“And other times?”
“I talk myself down because I’m not sure what I want, or what I feel. We’re both still getting over people who caused us a lot of damage. And I don’t always feel like I’m ready to think about starting a relationship with someone new. But I also know that I’m never going to be ready until I actually start doing it. And I really like the friendship we’ve built the past couple of months. I feel more like me when I’m around you. Like, not only am I no longer drowning, I can actually feel the bottom. But I don’t know if those feelings come from being around someone who can relate to what I’m going through right now, like some weird trauma bond. Or if it’s real “I like you’ feelings. And it’s not fair to you for me to not know.”
She nodded, both understanding what he was saying, and what he wasn’t saying. “What if I kiss you instead?”
“Please, don’t.”
“Because you’re scared we’ll hurt each other? Ash, if we don’t at least try, then we’re never gonna know what’s real and what’s not.”
“It’s partially that. But also… If we end up kissing… I’m not going to want to stop.”
“Then you better not be a lousy kisser.”
~~~
7 Months Later
Ashton got a small flash of deja vu as he saw the black and white composition book lying open, the beginnings of a song scribbled across one of the pages. “Just another hopeless broken heart cliche. And all my fairytale ambitions, I just watched them wash away.”
“Y/N?” he called out, curious to learn where this song was going, and also where his girlfriend could be hiding. “Babe?”
“But it’s too late for sorry baby, even if you’ve changed. I’m not letting myself break down, count me out. Oh, I’m better now,” her voice sang softly as it came down the hallway with her, a black pen twirling between her fingers. She paused as she spotted him standing there with her notebook, a smile lighting up her face. “Hey, you.”
“Hey,” he matched her smile, handing her the notebook and pressing a kiss to her head. “That’s nice. Whatever you were just singing. What inspired this one?”
“Just reflecting a bit on this past year,” she told him, as she quickly wrote what she’d been singing in the notebook before the lyrics left her head.
“Feeling a lot better these days, huh?”
“Better than I’ve ever been.”
__
Tag List
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To the Beat // drummer!Tom 1/2
(a/n) here it is!!! it took about a decade of my life but i think it was worth it also shoutout to @duskholland for hearing out my ideas when i was brainstorming and together with @captainpeggy40 for getting me through my breakdowns while writing. i got it finished!! <3 I really went all out with this fic, so i hope you guys enjoy it!! part 2 will come... sometime this week ;)
word count: 7939 (unnecessary content GALORE)
warning: drinking, swearing, crowded spaces, part 2 contains smut
you can find the band’s setlist here
not all songs are mentioned in the fic but it’s songs that i would really love to see them play haha. if anyone would be interested, i can make a seperate post on how i imagine them playing it (who sings and stuff idk)
Read part 2 here <---> extra headcanons here
With the right stranger, one night can feel like a lifetime.
“Will you please come?” your friend begged you over the phone. “It’s gonna be really fun!”
“You know, you say that a lot, yet I never have as much fun as you promise.” You sat down on your bed, looking out the window as the rain hit every surface outside. It was not exactly the weather you felt like going out in.
“Then that’s on your extremely high expectations, not on me.” She stated, “But pleeease.” She kept on whining, and you knew she wouldn’t stop until you gave in. It always went like this. Always.
“Ugh, fine.” you fell back on the soft mattress, your head only missing the pillow by an inch. “Where is it actually?” There was the question you both dreaded. You, because you knew you wouldn’t like the answer. Her, because she knew you wouldn’t either.
“It’s at Suki’s,” she mumbled, but you could still hear her just fine.
“That’s where you work right- please don’t tell me you’re working tonight?!” you groaned into the phone.
“I am, but I’ll be done around 9.30 I think, so there’s still plenty of time for us to hang out! Besides, you already said yes, and NO TAKE BACKSIES!” she said this all extremely fast and screamed the last two words into your ear. Then, on top of that, hung up as soon as she finished, not giving you even a second to fight back. Not sure what happened, you stared at the black screen of your phone in confusion.
She said the concert started at nine o’clock. Did she really expect you to go to this thing and spend half an hour by yourself? Or did she want you to sit at the bar while she poured drinks for everyone? Either way, none of those options felt appealing. For a solid minute, you contemplated just not going, just… not showing up. Turning off your phone and watching a movie or something at home.
But at the same time, you hadn’t left the house for a long time. And it was Friday night. Why not go out and see some obscure little band. What was their name again? Your friend had mentioned it, but you already forgot. Maybe it was for the better too. That way, you couldn’t look them up beforehand, and if they were shit, you would just find out there and not have another thing to be dreading as you got ready. Or maybe they would be good. Then it would be a pleasant surprise on the spot.
You checked the time. 7:27pm. That gave you about an hour to get ready and then some time to actually get to the bar. Should be doable.
So, you hopped in the shower to get all fresh again. Even if it would all get ruined later on in the night by standing in a sweaty crowd. It’s the effort to look presentable that counts. Then, you picked out an outfit that would be comfortable in the before mentioned crowd. You could never go wrong with the simple jeans and a t-shirt combo.
Looking in the mirror, the thought of Not Going popped up in your mind again. There was nothing really obliging you to go. And the idea of standing there listening to the loud music, whether it was good or not, sounded slightly exhausting.
No, you reminded yourself, it would do you good to leave the house once in a while. Have “fun”. You checked the time once more, 8:14. You had done everything a bit quicker than you expected. The Uber you had arranged for yourself would be there in a few minutes. So, you were stuck in that kind of waiting limbo, sitting on your couch, not sure what to do. Eventually, you put on your shoes and got your keys and were ready to head out.
The drive was quick and thankfully, mostly quiet. It was only a minute or two before you reached your destination that the driver decided to ask you where you were headed.
“Concert,” you said hesitantly. Why did these people always want to know your business? Thankfully, the man didn’t ask much more. And then it was time for you to get out of the car. The drive actually took much less time than you had expected and there was still some time left before the band would start to perform.
Suki’s was a bar downtown, in the basement of some kind of law firm. Their whole thing was that they let new bands and artists play each week so they could get some of the public’s interest going. Make themselves known to the world. It was literally and figuratively, an underground following that it had. Many, but at the same time, nobody knew about it. It was a secret amongst music lovers. Considering the bar wanted to stay its own secret, you never understood the bright neon lights above the entrance, going down the staircase all the way to the actual hall.
The bar itself wasn’t too big. Enough space for a small stage along one wall, a bar on the opposite side, and the rest was space for the crowd to either enjoy or hate the music being played. When you walked in the room was still relatively empty. You saw two guys setting up equipment on stage, you assumed it was the band. Behind them was a black banner with “Winter Solstice” written in scratchy white letters. Between the words, a star that was drawn on in precisely the same rough manner. You had to admit, it was a cool name.
Considering there weren’t many people there yet, you headed for the bar to get yourself a drink before it would be too crowded to even reach the counter. And there stood your friend, behind the bar talking to some guy. They were both laughing at something as you walked up.
“y/n! You came!” you squealed out, “what can I get ya?”
“A beer?” you said it more like a question.
“Coming right up.” And with that, your friend walked off to the tap to pour you your drink. It was more out of reflex when you sat down on the stool, you leaned your head on your hand, but you understood the question from the stranger when he spoke up.
“Not looking forward to it?”
Still with your chin on your knuckles, you turned to face him.
“Huh? Oh no, I mean… she kind of made me come here, but-” you tried not to sound too pessimistic, but the guy saw right through you.
“So, I guess the answer is yes.” He chuckled. Right then, your friend came holding your drink and put it in front of you.
“I’ll put it on your tap.” She was going to join the conversation but right then a group of tonight’s spectators walked up in need of drinks, so she was soon off again.
“I’m not not looking forward to it?” nothing in your voice made it sound like you were sure of yourself, but it was enough for him. You took a sip of your beer, which you could feel helping the situation. While doing that you looked over the brim of the tall glass to look at your conversation partner. Like you, he was drinking a beer himself and considering it was almost empty, he had done that either very fast, or he had been there for a while already.
Next, you took a look at him. From the profile, he looked pretty good. He was wearing a loose tank, showing off his arms. His dark curly hair was held back with a black cap that he wore backwards. What definitely stood out to you was his jawline. It looked like you could cut yourself on it just with the slightest of touches. For everyone’s sake, you quickly turned your gaze over to the extensive liquor collection in front of you. But you could see in the reflection behind the bottles how he was smiling to himself. He definitely saw you stare. This was awkward, and you only got here two minutes ago.
“So, do you know the band?” you asked in the hopes to weed out this weird situation you had created. For some reason, your question made him smile. In that type of way as if you had just mentioned an inside joke. Except you weren’t in on it, so you couldn’t laugh along.
“Yeah, they’re alright.” He shrugged. Then, as if he suddenly remembered something, he shot up straight in his seat. “I’m Tom, by the way.”
“y/n.” Then you remembered how your friend practically screamed out your name when you walked in, “but you already knew that.” Your phone vibrated with a text, so you took it out and immediately saw the time, it was already past nine. You looked over at the stage where the two guys were trying to untangle some chords. Clearly, it wasn’t starting anytime soon.
“What kind of music do they play?” You asked Tom while still looking at the band trying to get ready.
“A bit of everything, I suppose.”
You bit your cheek not to say anything that might come off rude, but he could still read you.
“I guess that wasn’t the right answer?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I just hoped to get something more specific, but as long as they’re good, I’ll enjoy it.” You took another sip of your beer as an excuse to shut up. He must think you’re such a bitch at this point. You saw him glance over your shoulder at the stage and then smile at you.
“I like you.” there was that chuckle of his again, “I’ll see you later, then.” And he got up. You were gonna ask why later? Why couldn’t you hang out now? You didn’t like to admit it, but you enjoyed his company, even though it was only brief and most of the time you spent it making yourself look like a moron. As superficial it made you sound, you simply enjoyed the presents of a good looking guy like him.
You were going to ask him, but he quickly disappeared into the crowd that started to form along the foot of the stage. More and more people were coming and joining in. The two guys from the band had finally untangled their chords and were placing their guitars over their shoulders, and plugged them into the amplifiers. That’s when you noticed that a spot was empty on the stage. The big drum set had no occupant yet.
So, while everyone waited for the drummer to show up, you took this time to look at the other two band members, trying to decide which one was the cuter one.
That turned out to be slightly more difficult of a task, you quickly realised. Though they were both very different, they were both also extremely good looking. There was the blonde, strumming a few simple chords on his guitar to warm up. Even in the dim light, you could see how perfectly chiselled his face was. He was wearing a slightly oversized button-up shirt with about half of the buttons open. The skinny jeans didn’t seem comfortable to you, but he made them work. The rings on his fingers reflected in the lights as he kept on strumming.
The other had a bit more of a playful vibe around him. His curly mop of hair bounced with every move he made. You could hear his loud and contagious laugh all the way from the other side of the room without the need for a microphone. His outfit was something completely different compared to the blonde. It consisted of a baggy t-shirt (that you could read the band logo on), with ripped dungarees that were only attached on one side. He had rolled them up, showing off his bright converse. His bass guitar was currently hanging behind his back as he adjusted the mic stand one last time. There was something familiar about him, though you were sure had never seen him before.
Then finally, a third person joined them. People cheered since it meant that they could finally start playing. You tried to get a good look at him before he hid behind the drum set. Hair was hiding beneath a cap, tank top… wait… was it-
You got up and walked through the audience. There weren’t that many people, so it was reasonably easy to get to the front. Or, almost at the front row, standing right in front of them felt a bit intimidating. Now you could see all three of them much better, and there was no denying it. Your new acquaintance Tom was the drummer. And when you looked over at the curly bassist again, you realised why he looked so familiar. It was not an identical resemblance, but there was enough that made you think they were related somehow.
You watched Tom spin one of his drumsticks in his hand. He had the biggest smile on his face, then he caught your eye and winked. The cheeky bastard knew exactly what he was doing, you were sure of it. He was waiting for your surprised reaction, and you fell for it completely—hook, line and sinker.
The curly one got up to his microphone. “Hey everybody, we’re Winter Solstice,” his voice was much deeper than you had expected. Especially, considering that he actually looked younger than the other two, you noticed. “We thought you’d appreciate some more known songs tonight, so join in whenever.”
Alright, they were gonna do covers. That was not a wrong move at all. A lot of bands want to show off their own music, but most of the time that leaves the audience just swaying awkwardly because they don’t know the lyrics or what to expect.
“Here’s one you all should know.”
The blonde started playing his guitar, and it only took a second or two before everyone realised what song it was. Mr Brightside. It sounded a bit different, as their attempt to make the song their own, but the riff was unmistakably Mr Brightside. Everyone around you immediately cheered and started to dance along, waiting to sing the lyrics. You were too, of course, but all you could think about was Tom playing in the back. He looked so focused, but still didn’t let it sit in the way of enjoying the song.
In the song, the drums probably only started a beat before the lyrics, so you missed out on the first few words, but quickly you were singing too.
“But she’s touching his chest now, he takes off her dress now. Let me gooo,” the blonde guitarist sang. His voice wasn’t perfect, it was rough, some might have called it cursive, but in that right sort of way. It fit well with the rest of the band and how they played. In just a minute, they had gotten the entire room hyped up. Everyone was into it. Maybe it was because of the song choice, but you doubted it. A song like that can be tricky to sing to a new crowd. If you screwed it up, they’d hate you forever.
That was definitely not the case here, they had the crowd in the palms of their hands. With each beat, you were pulled in…or, was that just you?
The second verse started, and it was the bassist that began to sing: “I'm coming out of my cage, and I've been doing just fine-” There was no clear description of his voice. At least you couldn’t really pinpoint it. There was definitely that playfulness in it that he had been showing through everything he did. He couldn’t stay still, jumping in place, making his curls bump up and down as he went.
“It was only a kiss”
It was Tom that said the little interjection in the song. You had only looked his way at the end, while the other was already singing, but you felt as if he had been looking at you directly. No, he wasn’t. Why would he? You shook the thought off and continued enjoying the performance of the three men. You sang along just like everyone else.
And then the song ended. It was almost unbelievable that it had only been one song that they played, but they moved on to the next quickly.
The guitar faded out but came straight back, accompanied by a heavy bass line. Some people around you recognised the melody, but it took you a moment or two. Then it went quiet. The blonde leaned into his microphone, whispering the words.
“I’m the invisible man,” guitar riff “I’m the invisible man,” guitar, “Incredible how you can- see right through me!” His voice got louder as Tom joined in with the drums. Then those few seconds of bass followed which actually sent shivers up your spine. To put it simply, you were a sucker for good bass and beat. But what was it about them that sounded so good? You couldn’t think of anything particular that would have set them apart from all the other artists you had seen perform in the club through the years…
Still, seeing them have so much fun on stage, it was truly intoxicating, you wanted to join them. You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen someone jump around on that little stage while playing bass. You couldn’t wait to find out what their names were, but for now, “the curly bassist” didn’t take a second to stand still. The only time he stood in one spot was when he had to sing, and even then he moved around a lot.
The others didn’t have that same luxury. Of course, Tom did not have a lot of options, sitting behind his drum set. Yet still, he managed to light up the stage with his bright smile and the passion he put into his drumming. Any time you looked at him, you didn’t want to look away- which was hard, considering that the other two were also a great joy to watch.
The blonde, in his turn, stayed on his side of the stage, being somewhat stuck with his microphone since he had the most vocals. But he still had a great connection with the audience, you felt like.
Before you knew it, the second song had also come to an end. Cheers and applause erupted in front of the band, with you contributing to it as well, of course.
“Thank you, thank you,” the bassist took a little bow. Even though they weren’t playing any song, he still slapped one of the strings mindlessly. “Like I said, we’re Winter Solstice. My name’s Harry.” He introduced himself. Finally, you could call him something else than the curly bassist. Even though it was a very catchy nickname, you thought yourself.
“Here on the guitar,” Harry pointed out, “Is my good friend Harrison.” Harrison waved to the crowd, receiving screams from the audience as if it was filled with banshees.
“In the back,” Tom immediately started a soft drum roll, but Harry didn’t wait that long, “that’s Tom.” Tom reacted with a face that could only be described as “bruh”, making several people around you laugh. You wondered if it was rehearsed or if this was just how they were. Either way, it was cute.
Harry talked some more about how they were excited to play tonight, but you were looking at Tom. You watched him grab a water bottle and drink half of it in almost one chug. When he pulled it away from his mouth, you saw that he caught you staring. Even though you were between dozens of people, even though the light that was shining in his face- he saw you. And he winked again. In the next moment, you had to think if the heat burning through your body was an effect of that little gesture or because of how warm it was in the room. For your own sake, you went with the second option.
“Alright, here’s another song for you all,” it was a voice you hadn’t heard speak before. Harrison. “Here’s: You Oughta Know.” There was a mixed reaction from the audience, including you. Of course, you knew the Alanis Morisette song, but you had never heard it be played by men. It was definitely an interesting choice for them to play, especially after the Killers and Queen.
“I want you to know that I am happy for you,” it was Tom that started singing, as he drummed softly. You tried to control your thoughts as he kept on singing. Then the pre-chorus began, and you were shocked at how well they harmonised.
“Cause the love that you gave that we made wasn't able to make it enough for you to be open wide.” It actually gave you chills. How were you so excited about listening to three strangers sing?
At the chorus itself, everyone in the room went wild, singing along loudly. It was clear that the people were sold on this new version of the song. It was all fine. You were enjoying the show. It was actually fun. And then, Tom sang the next line-
“It was a slap in the face. How quickly I was replaced. And are you thinking of me when you fuck her?” It sure was a slap in the face. You had to remind yourself that it was just the lyrics of the song. And he was just a guy on stage that you had only exchanged a few words with prior. Yet, you couldn’t focus on anything from that moment on. You could barely comprehend their version of “Are You Gonna Be My Girl”, not even really understanding that they were playing a different song. It was just a big blur. But maybe it was for the better, because could you really cope with Tom singing the titular phrase of the song in that husky way that he did... debatable.
When you woke up from your daze, Tom had stood up to show the crowd the beat to clap to. You joined in before anyone noticed how far out of it you indeed were. Harrison finished the song off with a falsetto and then it was already time for the next song.
This time you knew what to do. You wanted to record at least some part of the show. And when harry started a bass solo, you made sure to get at least a bit of it and continued filming from there, ready to post it on your Instagram later on. Harrison joined in with the guitar, and you actually had no idea what song they were playing. More people didn’t seem to recognise the song immediately, which visibly amused the musicians. They couldn’t hide their grins even behind the microphones. Once again, the harmonies… how did they sound so good?
As the song continued, the more sure you were that you had heard it before, but it must have been very different from the original. No, actually… How did you not recognise Dua Lipa? It was not hard to forget about the original when you got to listen to this version. How had each song so far been this good, you still didn’t understand. You didn’t want it to end.
But unfortunately, right after that, they took another break from singing.
“Alright!” Harrison cheered (more squeals from his side of the audience followed. Apparently he had started to gain quite the following). “The next song is another classic, I like to think.” People whooed. “So we’d like some help from you guys if that’s okay.” The crowd seemed to be into it, so Tom followed with the instructions.
“Okay, so we’re gonna start playing in a sec, and Harry will sing a little melody. Just copy that, and we’ll be on our way.” In the meantime, Harry had gone off stage to grab a bottle of water, so everyone had to wait for a second. This gave Tom the opportunity to freestyle on his drum set. It was a simple beat, but it progressed into a more complex set. He, however, did it effortlessly.
Finally, Harry came back running, he threw bottles to the other two, which they both caught without a problem. Tom started to press the bass drum steadily, layering more on top of it. Then Harry joined with the bass, and ultimately, Harrison’s guitar finished it off. Harry leaned into the microphone.
“Ooooo-ooo-oo-oo, ooooo-ooo-oo-oo, oooo-oo-oo,” he almost whistled, but not quite. He continued a few times, together with Tom and Harrison until everyone in the room was singing along. Then made that kind of gesture to show you had to stop. Harrison sang the verse. Anytime it was your turn, you’d just follow Harry.
You had been to many concerts, but not many new bands had much luck in getting a full crowd to participate in the song. But by the way they played, everyone just wished they could be in the band, playing along with them. Even if it was just dangling the triangle. You, however, didn’t want that, necessarily. You assumed that it was the fact that you hadn’t been out of the house in so long, that now that you had the chance, everything felt hundred times more great. So a concert that was already amazing, suddenly felt like a euphoric, once in a lifetime, experience… though that might go a bit too far. And it for sure helped that all three band members were hot. Like, really really hot.
Literally, too, the room was getting really warm at this point, and the guys were visibly hot also. It didn’t stop them from performing at 110% though. A few songs more passed by and Harry was still jumping around the stage. Harrison sang every note perfectly as he slew that guitar of his and Tom…
You could barely look at Tom. Playing the drums as hectically (in the good sense) as he did, you thought he would be exhausted by now. But he still had that big perfect smile on his face. The sweat was dripping down his arms, but it just highlighted his biceps, making it very hard for you to concentrate on the music. And then, no matter what he was doing, he would find you in the crowd and smirk or wink, making you even more flustered than you were before. The first time, you thought he was doing it to someone else. But then it happened again, and again. And the beat of drums led your heart. You could feel it in your throat as it kept pumping with the loud music.
It was during their little break which they used to goof around and play the intro of “Chelsea Dagger”, that you decided to go back to the bar. Your friend had said she wouldn’t leave you alone for the entirety of the concert, but you were already quite some songs in and there was still no sign of her. And you quickly realised why that was. Since the show had started, the entire room had filled up with people. You had never seen it be so crowded, in fact. And then the bar was packed with people asking for their drinks.
Your friend was indeed there, with another bartender, doing her best to pour the drinks quickly. But more and more people got thirsty, so it was easy to assume you would have to spend the rest of the night alone as well.
By that time, the band started on the next song of their setlist, and you really thought they were playing one big joke on you. Or at least this Tom guy was. As he loudly sang Sex on Fire, by Kings of Leon, you decided to sit this one song out from the front row and stay back, near the bar. It actually did you well, because it was much less hot than upfront. You could just stay there for the rest of the show. They had been through around ten songs already, so they must be done soon, either way, you thought.
And you were right. Ending with Come Together, the applause was bigger than through the entire night. The boys finished with extended solo’s of their respective instruments and a bow, and it was really over. Harry came up to the microphone one last time as the other two were already getting off stage.
“Thank you! We are Winter Solstice! Buy our merch at the door! GOODNIGHT!”
The idea of buying a t-shirt was pretty fun. And apparently, you weren’t the only one who thought that. Far from it, actually, The line at the little merch booth quickly exceeded the length of the small concert hall. You wondered if they even had enough things to sell. Would it even be worth it to stand in line? You just waited for the stream of new fans to cool down.
Eventually, it did. Slowly, but surely, the line got shorter. You also noticed that there were a few people that had the exact same idea as you had, so you joined the queue before the rest could. You didn’t even have to wait that long. Before you knew it, you were standing at the little table. There were piles of t-shirts and cd’s, and there were more boxes behind the table too. They really came prepared. Harrison had just been folding up an empty box when you walked up.
“Hi. Can I get a (your size)” you asked, already pulling out your card to pay, “and a CD?”
“Yeah, of course,” Harry grabbed a shirt for you with a smile. Tom had been talking to the girl that had been in line in front of you, but he quickly turned to look at you when he heard your voice.
“y/n!” He finished the conversation with the other girl before moving over to join his bandmate.
“Hey,” you wish it hadn’t been so, but a lot changed since the first time you spoke to him, let it only have been about an hour. There was something about him being in the band you just watched perform and buying his merch, that made you feel like a little school girl standing next to him.
“I thought you had left.” He noticed you leave? Not the point.
“No, I just went to the back. It was getting a bit hot for me upfront.”
“Ah,” he nodded. “Did you enjoy the show then?”
“Yes!” you said, a bit too loud, “You guys were great.” You looked at the CD that Harry had just handed you and smiled. “And I was wondering if you could maybe sign this for me?” Out of nowhere, Harrison appeared behind Tom, grabbing the CD from your hands and putting his signature right at the centre of the packaging. Just as quickly as he appeared, he went back to whatever he was doing before. But not without sending you a wink first. What was it with these guys and winking? Not that you really minded it.
Harry took the slightly more polite approach, waiting for you to hand him the CD and he signed it above Harrison’s signature. Then he handed it over, together with the marker, to Tom.
“So, we got ourselves a number one fan, huh?”
“No, I’ll just wait ‘til you guys get famous so I can sell it on the internet and get rich.” That was probably not the response Tom had expected, which you immensely enjoyed. Next to him, Harry erupted in a fit of laughter.
“Haz, did you hear that? She thinks we’ll be famous.” His laugh was even better close up. While Harry and Harrison kept on laughing, you used the moment to speak to Tom, one on one.
“So why didn’t you tell me you were in the band?” you asked.
“What does it matter,” he chuckled.
“You let me ask all those questions about the band, it’s fucking embarrassing, man.” you couldn’t help but laugh yourself.
“Heh, sorry.” he took off his cap to rearrange his hair since some of it had fallen in his eyes through the night. You didn’t know what else to say, so the conversation died down. Then you remembered that there was still a bit of a line behind you of people that wanted to buy the merch as well.
“Let me just pay for these, and I’ll be off.”
“No, it’s fine, on the house,” Tom said. You looked at him with wide eyes.
“Are you sure? It’s really no problem.”
“Yeah, just promise me one thing.”
“What?” You raised an eyebrow, not sure what to expect. You didn’t want to jump onto that wagon too quickly.
“Will you stay? I’d really like to hang out.”
You weren’t sure what to answer at first. You did want to stay and talk to him, but it was getting late, and you had been standing for a long time, and you were kinda gross from how warm it was during the concert… but Tom was really hot. And he asked so nicely.
“Sure.” you gave in. “I’ll hang out with my friend at the bar and let ya get back to-” you pointed around the table to make your point across. He nodded and waved you goodbye as you walked away, clutching on to your newly bought merchandise.
Just like you thought, your friend was indeed still at the bar, cleaning up leftover glasses from the counter. She saw you walk over and you could tell she saw something different in you.
“Look at you beaming, girl! What happened?” she put away the half-dried glass to listen to you.
“Nothing?” you said casually. She saw right through you though, so you just decided to give up the little act. “Tom asked me to wait behind for him.” You bit your lip, expecting to get a lecture from her. But none of that happened. Instead, she squealed out in, what seemed like, excitement.
“Ooh, Tom is such a great guy!”
“You know him?” you asked, surprised.
“Well, he was the one that got their band the gig here, so we talked here and there, mostly planning,” she explained. “And I mean, look at him.” she sighed and her eyes glazed over a bit when she looked in the direction of the merch table. Not sure what else to do, you followed her action and glanced over. Of course, right at that time, Tom decided to look in your direction as well. He smiled and waved lightly, making your cheeks heat up and quickly look away. Your friend, however, waved back enthusiastically.
“So you think it’s safe for me-” what were you even gonna ask her?
“Go have fun, I say. But if anything does happen, remember the codeword?” Her tone changed to a more serious one, which you appreciated. You had agreed ages ago on a codeword to use. In case a date turned for the worst, or generally if something felt off.
“Broccoli, baby. I know.”
“Broccoli.” She held up her hand for a high five, which you gladly accepted.
You chatted for a little bit longer. Every few minutes tho, you’d be sure to glance over your shoulder to see if the merch line was getting any shorter. It didn’t seem like it. There was simply no end to it. You felt yourself getting frustrated. To the point that your friend actually pointed it out, snorting from holding in her laughter.
“He has got you whipped, hasn’t he?” she bumped your shoulder playfully. All you did was roll your eyes. Which, actually, said everything she needed to know. He did, didn’t he? You always had a soft spot for musicians, dated a few. But comparing them to Tom now… it felt like a joke. There was something about this guy that made you want to know more about him. You wanted to see him play and sing again. You wanted- do a lot of things. But you had to get that out of your head. Let the night speak for itself, see where it leads you. If it would be his bedroom… that would be fine. Just fine.
You knew you were crazy for thinking all of this, but a girl can dream, right?
You looked across the room and were glad to see that there were only a few people left. Harry had already started packing everything up that would most likely not be sold that night. You watched the three of them make some small chat with the people walking by, but all your real focus was on Tom and his deep stare right at you. It made your heart beat faster. With his arms across his chest, the muscles seemed even more prominent.
He was suddenly pulled back into the conversation, and it was as if he changed into a different person. All bubbly, none of that- what even was it that he looked at you? You decided to not think about it too much. One does not do well when dwelling about anything.
Finally, the last person bought their shirt, and they were done. Hoping it didn’t make you look too desperate, you didn’t waste a second to walk over to them. Harrison and Tom were helping Harry pack up the rest of the things that were left on the table.
“Hey,” you said awkwardly. Tom almost dropped the stack of shirts he was holding. Again, the attention fell to his arms. You had to force yourself to look up at his face, which didn’t help much either, but it made it easier to think thoughts that would not mean a one-way ticket to Hell.
“Hi! I’m so glad you stayed,” he said after putting those shirts in the box. “I thought we could go grab something to eat. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” He spoke really fast, just showing how excited he was to talk to you again. To be honest, you weren’t necessarily hungry, but going out to eat with Tom didn’t sound too bad.
“Don’t you have to pack up?” You pointed back to the stage that still counted all of their equipment.
“No, we’re playing here tomorrow, again,” Harrison explained.
“Oh, cool.” Was all you said. It was cool, you just didn’t know how to say anything without sounding dumb.
“Well, shall we? There’s a diner on the way to my flat. It has the best burgers.” Tom exclaimed. You ignored the little mention of his apartment and focused on the burgers. He wasn’t suggesting for you to come over to his place. It was just a fact… right?
“Lead the way,” you told him, but before you left, you turned to the other two members of Winter Solstice. “It was nice meeting you guys.” Everyone waved, and so on, and you were off to eat.
It was almost midnight by the time you got there, but the diner Tom had mentioned did advertise as a 24/7. And it held up. When you walked in, you were practically hit in the face with the delicious smell of pie. You sat down in a booth next to the large window and very soon after a waitress walked up.
“What can I get ya?” she asked, flipping her little notebook open.
“I’ll have a cheeseburger and fries, thanks,” Tom asked. Then it was your turn.
“Just large fries for me, thank you.” The waitress wrote it all down, then continued to ask if you wanted anything to drink.
“Ooh, do you have milkshakes?” The woman smiled and nodded. “So a chocolate milkshake then.” You ordered.
“Make it two,” Tom added. Then the waitress went off, Tom leaned on the table toward you, with his hands in front of him. “So, just fries, huh?”
“I’m not super hungry, and I wasn’t going to steal your fries,” you explained, making Tom laugh and shake his head.
“You’re interesting, you know that?”
“I like to think so, yeah,” you answered straightforwardly. It was a pity you had not gotten your drinks yet, or you would have taken a very nonchalant sip. You leaned your chin on your hand, just like you did at the bar before the show. Except for this time, there was a smile hiking up the corners of your mouth. Tom mirrored your position.
“So how did you guys come up with the name?” you had been wondering that ever since you saw that banner hanging on the stage. It was always interesting to find out the thinking process like.
“You gotta ask Harry, he came up with it one day, and we just went along. He’s the more artistic one of the bunch.” Of course he is. Well, that didn’t answer anything then. But another question popped up in your mind.
“Are you guys related?”
Tom smiled at that question. “Yeah, Harry is my younger brother. Harrison has been my best mate ever since I can remember. We’ve always been close and messing around. Then one day we decided to grab some old instruments from the attic and- sorry, I’m probably boring you, aren’t I?” He took off his cap again and ruffled his hair. You thought he would put it back on, but he left it on the table. There was pretty good lighting at Suki’s, but the colourful spotlights were no match to the bright LEDs of the diner.
“I don’t see how you thought that was boring,” you assured him. You truly enjoyed his little story, talking about his friend and brother. You had doubted the choice of going out to eat so late at night with a stranger, but now the reason was apparent. He didn’t want to be strangers-he wanted to get to know you. And you wanted to get to know him.
The waitress came back with two large milkshakes, topped with whipped cream and syrup. She said that the food would be ready in a few more minutes and left you to continue your conversation. You nudged Tom on to go on where he stopped previously.
“So yeah,” he cleared his throat, “we played and thought, hey that doesn’t sound shit, and we practised for a few months and decided some time ago, why not try and play.”
“Was this your first gig?” you asked in disbelief. He shook his head, though.
“We’ve performed a few times, but this was the first one that felt… real, you know. Maybe it was just me, but I felt this great connection with the crowd, and it felt great.” You nodded along with every word, without realising that you had been getting lost in his eyes. He had been looking into yours as he spoke about that connection, and it made you feel that maybe, just maybe, he meant you specifically.
“y/n?” He eventually asked, waking you up. You almost spilt your milkshake from the abrupt movement you made as you tried to sit up.
“What? Sorry.” You held the glass until it didn’t shake.
“I asked if you enjoyed it? The show?”
“Didn’t you ask that already?” Stupid way to answer! “But yeah, I loved it. You were really great- I mean, all of you.” but especially you, you wanted to add on, but that felt like going too far. As you were trying to come up with a normal-sounding answer there, Tom sipped from his milkshake. Something in his eyes told you that he could tell what you wanted to say, and that thought scared you a little bit. All you wanted to do was to give this hot guy a good impression of yourself, was that really that hard?
But he didn’t say anything about it. Just continued the conversation as you hoped he would.
“Well, I’m glad. Honestly, you had scared me a bit back then, when you left,” he admitted. And there were the heart palpitations again, beating faster and faster. You grabbed the cold milkshake because you could feel yourself getting hotter.
“How so?” you choked out.
“Just because I could tell you weren’t exactly looking forward to the show, and then I saw you leave and didn’t come back. I thought you didn’t like us.” Us. He said “us”. Then we did it feel like he just wanted to say “me”?
“I wanted to check up on my friend, and then I realised that it was much colder in the back, so I stayed there.” you explained again, “But why be worried about me, there were plenty of other people enjoying themselves.”
He was about to answer when the waitress walked up with two large plates. She put them on the table with a smile, which you noticed was more directed towards Tom than you. He responded with a tight smile himself, but only shortly, turning back to you quickly to respond to your question.
“No one there was as cute as you.”
“What?” This time you made sure not to make any sudden movements to save your food and drink on the table. Did he really say that? But he didn’t clarify himself, he just smirked, enjoying your flushed expression a little too much. He put a fry in his mouth and still ate it with that smug smirk. You just went and ate some of your own fries, avoiding eye contact with him. You just needed a second to sort your thoughts.
That second lasted a little longer, but at least you had the food to use as an excuse to avoid “awkward silence”.
“So do you play any instruments?” he asked. You looked up to see that he had almost finished his burger. When you saw the dish being brought up, you thanked yourself and any god watching out there that you didn’t choose to order one. It was absolutely massive, meaning you would make a complete mess out of yourself—a sight for no one to see but your tv screen on a lonely night.
“Uh, I can play a few notes on the piano but all very beginner's level.” You dipped a fry in your milkshake.
“Like what?” He seemed genuinely interested.
“Uhm.. the Flintstones theme song, for one. There was more, but I haven’t played in ages, so I doubt I remember anything.”
“Flintstones, huh, nice.” He took the last bite of his burger. Knowing how weird it is to look at someone when they’re eating, you looked out the window for a second. It was dark outside, and the rain had come back, letting all the street lights reflect in the asphalt.
You both finished the remains of your fries and milkshakes while making some more small talk. You got up simultaneously from the booth. Was it over now? You hoped not. You didn’t want to say goodbye.
You grabbed your things while Tom paid for the food. Then you realised he had left his cap on the table so grabbed it too. But your hands were already full, so you decided to just put it on. Backwards, just like he had been wearing it through the evening.
“It looks good on you,” he commented when you met at the door.
“Thanks,” there was the heat up your cheeks again. “And thank you for everything else, I had a really great night.” you were about to take the hat off to give it back, but he stopped you.
“It doesn’t have to end here, darling.”
To be continued...
> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed
> please leave a comment or ask with your thoughts. i love reading them and let me know if you want to be tagged in part 2!
>masterlist and link to taglist in bio
tagging:
@definitely-not-black-cat @artemisiaarm @nerdyhockeygirl @miraclesoflove @justasmisunderstoodasloki @thefridgeismybestie @m19friend @creative-happenings @parker-holland-osterfield @fanficparker @fanficscuziranout @peterparkoure @xxtomxo @happywolves81 @captainbuckyy @tra-gicx @qxeen-of-hearts @varshavisuu @kangaroobunny @petersunderoos96 @the-lost-fairy-tale @nerd-domland @sleepybesson @rissa067 @the-queen-procrastinator @scarletteclipze @screeching-student-unknown @tomhollanders2013 @miraclesoflove @playinonaloop @queenoflostspirits @roses-hxlland @hereiamhereigo @sunnydays0803 @averyfosterthoughts @moorehollandplz @beiroviski @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @peterparkerbabyyy @multifandomlover21 @lmaotshollandd @badbitchydecisions @tikapollak @starkeybabie @awesomehritz @madzleigh01 @oh-what a beautiful-parker @taciturnspidey @quaksonhehe @mountainsforwords @harryfobter @peepeeparkerr @viagracex @ethereal-beauty-p @perspectiveparker @slytherin-chaser @worldoftom @moonysoftt @peeterparkr @wazzupmrstark @saintlavrents @peachybloomss @blissfulparker @chloecreatesfictions @fallinfortom @londonspidey @spidey-reids-2003 @hollandcreep
#tom holland#tom holland fic#tom holland fanfic#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland imagine#tom holland au#band!au#drummer!tom holland#smut#tom holland smut#strangers to lovers#au
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i hate your guts (m)
pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader genre: smut, humor warnings: smut, swearing (you know the good stuff) overview: class 1-a has this belief that you and katsuki hate each other, though one incident has their minds changed word count: 4.2k author’s note: this was written to fight my writer’s block and i happened to find a psycho-analysis of katsuki which helped somewhat and its quite interesting. anyways...the song choice while writing this was house of cards, also this was written in three days and i tried using any relevant medical terms i’ve learned so far in uni. hope you enjoy!! masterlist | ko-fi
Walking through the azure-rimmed gate you knew the day would be the same. Homeroom for ten minutes then classes back to back with a minor minute break in between, next an oh-so-needed fifty-minute lunch, and finally two classes to end the day. Not that you could complain, heroes in training must earn some type of education.
Though school wasn’t the worst thing invented, you can definitely say occasions in English class were not lackluster with Present Mic as the teacher. Or in math, when Midoriya yells out an inaccurate answer only to be corrected by Yaoyorozu. It's the little moments that bring laughter, or maybe it’s watching someone embarrass themselves in front of a class that's joyful.
And you could never forget the times where Jirou teased Kaminari for short-circuiting.
While all those moments are fun and dandy, 1-A can also be quite the chatterboxes and gossipy, especially when it comes to your feelings towards Bakugou. Believing that your relationship consists of mutual hatred, class 1-A constantly manages to tease both you and the blonde-headed male. Even All-Might manages to separate the two of you during training.
Although you never said anything against the rumors, it's quite humorous to see a school be so wrong in their thoughts. Is it not obvious that the glares the two of you send are not out of anger but endearment? Clearly not to Todoroki who claimed that Midoriya was All-Might’s secret love child, but that's beside the point. Additionally, you’ve yet to hear an accurate hypothesis as to why you and Bakugou would hate each other. Many of the theories revolve around Bakugou’s ‘anger problems’ but honestly, who doesn’t get mad?
Nonetheless, the rumors surrounding your alleged detestation toward the blonde sparked a little prank between you two. Pretending to hate each other until people catch on that you’re dating.
And the joke has been going on for quite a while, four months to be exact. Four months of pretending to hate in front of crowds, yet loving behind closed doors. Four months of experiencing the rush of adrenaline when you sneak around to his dorm room in the late hours of the night. Four months of leaving your friend groups to hang out during lunch.
Four months of waking up early to walk to class with Bakugou. And don’t forget about four months of the blonde-headed male constantly breaking you away from your thoughts.
“Oi Y/n, break out of that daze and let’s go, we have thirty-minutes before class and I’d like to spend that time not pretending to hate you” Bakugou calls while molding his fingers into yours.
“Oh please, I’m not pretending you know I hate your guts” You smile, leaning into the broad male walking towards homeroom. “Do you think today will be the same?”
“Yes, those idiots could watch us kiss and still think we hate each other, though I can’t complain, their oblivion is better than if they were to pester us about our relationship” he snarks.
Mindlessly nodding in agreement, you and Bakugou wander through the purple-stained floors of U.A., passing by random classrooms, and peering out the glass windows that overlook the campus.
After twenty-five minutes of strolling through the halls, Bakugou and you turn down the corridor leading to class 1-A, while unlocking hands and prepping for your fake and falsely-interpreted loathing glares.
“Today marks day ninety-six of the class believing we hate each other” you whisper.
“They’re hopeless….”
“But if at any point, you want to stop pretending let me know… I wouldn’t mind, jokes are funny but you’re my top priority”
“Is Bakugou Katsuki getting soft on me?”
“No.. shut up-”
“And they're back at it again Ladies and Gentlemen… the feud between Y/n and Bakugou seems everlasting” Kaminari calls sliding open the tall door leading to class 1-A. Way to ruin a cute moment.
“Honestly the two would probably be best friends if they didn’t hate each other, they both like the same things” Oh they wouldn’t believe the interests you two share.
“Yeah, but their personalities are so different, they’re just not meant to be and that’s fine” What a shock your relationship would be then.
“I’m so glad that you’re interested in my ‘relationship’ with Lord Explosion Murder… but I have more important matters to attend to such as earning my education so that I can be a top pro-hero” you remark sliding into your chair. Your comments are never intended to insult your boyfriend, but teasing his choice of a hero name couldn’t hurt anyone.
Waiting for the remaining two minutes for class to start, you check your phone and see a message notification from a familiar contact.
Babe 💗: storage room during lunch?
Quicker than your mind made a decision, your fingers don’t hesitate to press the send button.
You: i’ll bring the key
----------
Bakugou was a master of three things. Okay maybe more than three, but three traits excel. His talent, his mind, and his ability to use his fingers.
Bakugou’s talent is tremendous and has been able to advance his goals of becoming a pro-hero. He acknowledges that he was born with such an extraordinary quirk, and has a flair for using it. Notwithstanding the male’s breakdown and internal belief that he is inferior to his pre-quirkless childhood friend, Bakugou unceasingly exerts himself to be more than a student with talent.
His mind is magnificent and allowed Bakugou to comprehend multiple topics of interest. Placing third in the class’ midterm exam, it’s evident that he shines in academic settings. And though few peers in 1-A state that Bakugou fails in the social aspect, you claim the opposite. In their eyes Bakugou is brash, however, after spending time with the boy, you have viewed him as self-reflecting, with social skills that others cannot see.
While brains and talent may all be magnificent qualities of the blonde, nothing beats Bakugou’s ability to use his fingers. Combined with both his talent and his mind, Bakugou has the ability to make both inanimate and living things explode. And that isn’t related to his quirk.
“You’re imagining events that haven’t occurred yet. Am I truly that talented?”
Flushed and blinking in a shocked manner towards the male in front of you, you ask him if his quirk was mind-reading.
“Hmmm… No, but after seeing you so embarrassed I’d love to have such a quirk so that I’d be able to view the thoughts inside that mind of yours, but I was gifted with explosions... You, on the other hand, were blessed with the ability to swap items on your command. A quirk so useful, especially in times like these when I don’t have a key to the storage room”
“Oh please, just admit that you use me to gain entrance into forbidden rooms” You tease, giving Bakugou the janitor’s key to unlock the storage room.
The male chuckles unlocking the door to the storage closet, “Maybe a bit, though you reap the benefits of getting it” Change of thought, maybe he is brash.
Shutting the door behind you two, you finally express your raw emotions towards your boyfriend, engulfing him in a hug.
“I missed you”
“You came over my dorm last night” What an ass, couldn’t he just accept your affection?
“Yeah, but you go to sleep at like eight-thirty, which means I have to leave you dorm before then, and then I’m stuck in my dorm with nobody to talk to until I go to sleep at midnight, that’s about three and a half hours being alone”
“You’re so clingy… it's cute”
“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel less lonely since I go to sleep at like eight-thirty and leave you alone’”
Bashfully looking down at the floor rather than your boyfriend, you mumble your request.
Releasing the hug, Bakugou smirks, poking fun at your diffidence, “With that ask, I don't think you can be shy… Are you sure that's what you truly want?”
Nodding your head you look up to the red-eyed male, taking in his dilated pupils. It's always been him that you’ve desired.
Accepting your form of consent, Bakugou kisses you, enveloping your figure while you sneak your hands around his neck to deepen the embrace. And although the two of you are in a storage closet skipping out on lunch, the feeling of epinephrine dispersing within your bloodstream, inducing fast heart rates, is blissful. A salacious rendezvous with the man you’ve come to love could never hurt anyone… as long as they didn't find out.
And if one were to catch you two, would they truly stop two aroused students halfway from committing adultery? Would a teacher not be embarrassed if he/she watched as Bakugou hurriedly zips down your green skirt in order to slide his fingers inside of your warmth? Or would someone scamper along hearing the lewd mewls arising from your throat?
“You’re so loud Princess, we have to keep it down or else someone will hear us, okay?”
Yet the person to blame for such noises was Bakugou himself. One could imagine the boy having rough, unmoisturized hands from his explosive quirk, but his inheritance of glycerin allows him to easily travel in and out of you.
“You’re close aren’t you? I can tell. Your walls are contracting at a faster rate and tightening each time I pump my fingers into you. It's really hot too, especially knowing that the world believes you hate my guts when behind the scenes, I rearrange yours”.
Words cannot describe the pleasure Bakugou exposes you to. A thumb pressed against your clitoris, his middle and ring finger dug past your labia, and you’re unraveling beneath him. He has you under his full control. And how Bakugou feels will determine your release. An untroubled Bakugou can earn you multiple chances of release, whereas the current Bakugou you’re experiencing will rip your attempt at euphoria, despite you being almost there.
“Katsuki please, I was right there… I’m so close you even said it yourself” You plead, wanting to reach a climax.
“I don’t know… strenuous activities make me tired and I wouldn’t want to upset you with the hour I may fall asleep” Bakugou smirks while tasting his digits, “You taste like caramelized sugar, I wonder where that came about?”
“Suki please, don’t leave me like this”
“It’ll only be for a little while babe, but lunch is almost over, we have to go back to class. I’ll help you out at my dorm alright?”
What more could you do but nod, put back on your skirt, and pretend to hate Bakugou once more in public?
----------
The walk back to class was internally embarrassing. Arousal saturated your underwear, heat filling up between your legs and left you with a foggy mind. You couldn’t imagine pretending to hate Bakugou now when all you could think about was Bakugou hovering above you in his dorm room, aggressively ramming into your hole as you pleaded for mercy. But you’re in school containing students who are not Bakugou to distract you from your misery.
“Y/n pay attention to me, and why do you smell like caramel?” Well shit, is the cat out of the bag?
Looking up at the voice calling, you smile faintly in means of apologizing and mutter an incoherent response to Mina’s question.
“Sorry, and thanks I guess... It might be from the sweets I had during lunch”
“I see, well since you like sugary foods we should go to the bakery today after school, I’m sure the others would like to come too” The pinky bounces brightly.
“I can’t today, sorry! I’m super behind on work and barely understand what's going on in class, let’s go this weekend when I’m free?” What a Lie.
Fortunately, the promise of a raincheck is enough for Mina to back off from the situation and accept your rejection. Today would have been a perfect day to go out with friends, yet the blonde-headed boyfriend of yours decided to be unfair, leaving you to crave his affection. Though, the school day would be over soon enough with only two periods following lunch. And only then would you be able to gain some type of relief.
As if that ideology would be so simple.
Bakugou Katsuki is a man full of pride --rightfully achieved, of course, meaning he knew how and when to push your buttons. Right now being one of those times.
Despite wanting to pay attention in your world language class, Bakugou made it very difficult to do so. Especially knowing that he is the cause of your phone silently vibrating every three minutes in your pocket. He doesn't want you to forget he is the cause of your erotic thoughts. Rather, he’ll keep reminding you that he is controlling your excitement.
However, from the glance across the room, Bakugou didn’t look like the lead in this relationship. His eyes were majorly dilated, with his red iris visually smaller in circumference. Additionally, a prominent cherry hue spread across his cheeks, that one may call flustered from afar. Although, only the two of you understood each other’s physical response towards seduction.
Babe 💗: you look dazed
Babe 💗 : I don’t think that’s the best for someone who wants to become a hero, don't you think?
Babe 💗: this class is so important
Babe 💗: …
Babe 💗 : don’t look at me
Babe 💗: i'm not the teacher
Babe 💗: your so cute trying to ignore these texts
Oh how badly you wanted school to be over
-------------
As the clock hit 2:45 PM, you watch everyone around you hurrying to leave the school and have freedom. And once five minutes go past, 1-A is a semi-empty classroom with two students remaining. Two hormonal, amorous, epinephrine-surged students patiently waiting for their peers to leave the school grounds, so that they can walk to the dorms together in peace.
Whilst hand-holding may be a shock to onlookers, if they had the capability to read your mind, myocardial infarction would sure to follow. Outstandingly too, if they did not foreshadow the events of you walking within the fourth floor of heights alliance and entering the second room from your left.
“Your room is so homey” You comment. Despite visiting the blonde’s dorm room on multiple occasions, the comforting aura never ceases to relax you.
“I would hope so, I don’t want to be reminded that we’ve been moved from our homes to our school campus in fear of malicious attacks against students”
“Thanks for that… truly an amazing choice of words” You sarcastically remark. Not everyone needs a reminder of the traumatic incidents students of U.A. have been through, especially when it's clear that students of 1-A (and others) have not received enough therapeutic aid to cope with the events suffered.
One would think that Bakugou of all students would be most affected by trauma, starting from falling victim to the Sludge Villain incident, to being kidnapped by the infamous League of Villains, though he shows the opposite effects. While you cannot see inside the mind of Bakugou and tell if he is extremely traumatized by the incidents and is repressing his memories as a form of coping, you can see what he is physically doing. And at this current moment, you cannot see someone disturbed by his past, but impassioned with the ideas of what is to come.
Tossing your backpack to a discarded corner of Bakugou’s dorm, you throw yourself onto his bed, relishing in the comfort of his bedsheets. You’ve always loved his bed, your favorite moments with him have occurred there. Random naps while cuddling on Saturday afternoon, binge-watching cult-classics after a big exam, or simply having Bakugou’s powerfully built arms wrapped around you like they are now is unforgettable.
“I don’t understand how you’re so built? We go to the same school, attend the same classes and both do athletic training. I mean I’m not complaining because you definitely look good, but it's interesting how my figure compares to yours”
“That's like me asking why you’re so attractive, it's just luck within life, plus I like your figure, it blends perfectly with mine”. A man with such words can only follow with actions that prove it, and the blonde was sure to do so.
Except for when his phone goes off multiple times.
“I think you should check your texts, it may be important”
Halfway sliding off of your body, Bakugou pulls his phone out of his pockets to read his text messages. “It's nothing important, Kirishima just wanted me to join him and the others to go to some bakery since you didn't want to go”
“Oh okay-” Again you were cut off by the sound of his phone going off, however this time, the alert was a long-lasting ring, signaling that Bakugou was receiving a call.
“He’s so persistent, why would I want to go to a bakery when the best dessert is in front of me”
Lightly throwing his phone on the floor of his dorm, Bakugou discards any form of human interaction outside of the bed, focusing his attention on the one he loves.
“You know I really fucking love and care for you?” You do. You fully understand his love for you, from the way his iris shrinks to the rosy pigments formulating on his cheeks when looking at you. And you’ve never once questioned his devoutness towards expressing his adoration for you.
In moments like these, where Bakugou gently strips clothing from your body admiring every crevice, you know the two of you are in love. The boy may come off as an entitled brat, but when push comes to shove, he will bend over backwards trying to make you feel happy.
“You’re so mushy when you're in the feels”
“Oh forgive me for wanting to praise my girlfriend”
“I’m joking, but it is nice to know the feeling is reciprocated”
His silence you took as acknowledgment. ‘I love you too’ was a phrase you didn’t say often, it sounds too forced. Being obligated to say a phrase in return is meaningless when both parties understand each other’s feelings. And it's even more worthless when the actions committed speak louder than words. Bakugou does not need to hear you say ‘I love you’ constantly when he knows you dragging the zipper down of his pants and springing free his cock from the restraints of his underwear means the same thing.
And when you free yourself from the fondling of your boyfriend to meet your lips with the tip of his enraged dick, Bakugou has fallen prey to submission. Having yet to insert the body part into your mouth, you take notice of the male in front of you. Cheeks flushes, head lolled back, visible veins peeking from his sand-colored skin, and light pants as a result of excitement. Hot.
One kiss to his head and you feel a little twitch. He wouldn’t last long. Understanding that thought you decide to mess with the male, putting half of his length within your mouth and pumping the other half. It was a shame he toyed with you earlier, now he’d face the repercussions. Light squelches filled the quiet air, and Bakugou’s groans got increasingly vocal overtime. The combination forming a sexual melody awaiting to be abruptly paused.
Releasing your lips from the now wet surface of the blonde’s dick, you hear the annoyed groan of the male. “Why’d you stop?”
“I’m sorry were you close?”
“Obviously, but that doesn’t answer my question”
“It’s just that strenuous activities make me tired Suki, and I wouldn’t to make you upset if I accidentally fell asleep”
Tch. The little sound of irritation fell from Bakugou’s mouth, only signaled one thing, rough sex.
“How I’ve come to date such a slutty brat is beyond me. Getting back at me isn’t going to help you in this situation. All you’ll receive is a punishment, though knowing you, you’ll probably enjoy it”
Although enticed by the proposition, you failed to speak out after being muffled by your boyfriend. Your own skirt which the male had managed to take off earlier now laid scrunched up in your mouth. In addition to that, your arms were now constricted by a gold-rimmed belt.
And while whining in complaint about the new restrictions placed on you, Bakugou alters your kneeling position into one laying beneath him. The primal glare he sends you would signal fear to others, however, you know that the fun is only about to begin.
Widening your legs apart Bakugou spares no time plunging two fingers into you, stretching the pair apart. Despite being unable to speak, your moans are heard loud enough by your boyfriend to increase his speed. Every sound encouraging the male to continue to berate your walls.
Thinking that the punishment you’ll receive is overstimulation by being one step away from ecstasy, you’re disturbed by the sudden absence of feeling in your core.
“I didn’t say you could come”
Twice today he’d done that. One denial was not enough for him, and that’s when you identified your mistake. Bakugou had the power to reject your advances to climax however many times he’d like. Maybe being a brat today wasn’t the best idea.
Granted that Bakugou could undeniably be the most ruthless person when it comes to sex, today marked the first time he’d ever advanced into you without warning. The thrusts he implemented assaulting your hole. Even so, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“My god Y/n, you’re so tight, so perfectly made to take my dick”
“You make it so easy for me to unravel within the warmth of your pussy”
“Fuck I’m so close baby, I’m sure you are too”
He wasn’t wrong. The magnitude of the thrusts presented plus the physical restraints and multiple orgasm denials has sped up your ability to reach a climax. You were a mess underneath the man, hoping that soon he would grant you the gift of release. And by the looks of it, Bakugou would provide you with it soon. His cock inconsistently twitching in your warmth, notifying both you and him that he would come soon.
So when the removal of your gag began, you were not surprised. He was close and needed the extra aid of your uncovered moans to aid him to let go. Bare lewd noises ricocheted from the walls of Bakugou’s dorm, and you became thankful that Kirishima went to a bakery rather than located next door. Though had he been, he would have been overhearing an occasion so pornographic, one would think you’re in the business.
They wouldn’t be fully wrong either. Whilst uploading an adult video while training to be pro-heroes sounds absurd, Bakugou has no problem taping to two of you in the act. It may be the idea of possibly getting the video leaked or a similar exhibitionist-like kink, but the blonde constantly acts to videotape during sex.
“This would be perfect on video. The noises you make before you come are so fucking hot I’d replay them until the end of time”
Yet Bakugou is gravely mistaken. Yes, the noises you exhale are angelic, but compared to the rugged groan he calls while releasing his load in you is divine, and never fails in making you follow suit. So when you recognize that tone in addition to the feeling of warmth coating the inside of your walls, you have no choice but to mirror his actions.
“You’re so perfect” He states, slipping himself from your cunt and delivering pecks to your lips while he unbuckles his belt from your wrists. Post-sex always has Bakugou sappy, but how could you complain.
Wrapping your freed arms around his neck, you pull the male closer to your embrace while nuzzling your nose into his neck. You felt the rapid pace of his heartbeat begin to slow down.
“Are you guys done, because I still haven’t received a response from Bakugou about if he wanted to go to the bakery or not?” What the fuck.
“Did you not press decline when answering Kirishima’s phone?”
“I thought I did…”
“Is that a no or?”
“Of course it's a fucking no, and don’t tell anyone else what you heard. Why were you even listen-” He hung up.
“You think we can go another day pretending to hate each other?”
“Nope… he definitely told the entire class”
“That's a shame, it was fun having them think I hate your guts”
“Awe how tragic… now get up so we can clean you off, heroes in training don't get UTIs”
How sweet.
----------
The trek to school the next day seemed no different than the past. You woke up early to walk to class with Bakugou and strolled the corridors. Only this time while sauntering into homeroom, nobody greeted the couple at the door, rather class 1-A smiled awkwardly as you held hands walking to your seats. Although you wouldn’t have known the reason for the tension in the classroom had Kaminari not jokingly mumble to Sero that he would’ve never expected the blonde to be an exhibitionist.
“Hm, if I recall correctly, I said not to tell anyone”
“I’m sorry my phone was on speaker when I called you” Great.
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