#but was in a same sex relationship while they called them slurs. then why should we care if they're actually this or that?

[quitedisastrous]

bi/pan lesbian discourse is so fucking stupid. like a bunch of the people specifically against them using that label are ALSO queer. gamers we are in this shit together!!!! what the fuck!!!

[batboyblog]

and there it is

all these comments point to what critics of Heartstopper's attitude to sex are really saying, indeed from the article itself:

no one is saying Nick and Charlie should have sex or that we are desperate to watch them have sex. It's this attitude displayed in all these posts that queer sexuality is in some way deviant, that being interested in a more open depiction of sexuality, or having characters more openly talk about sex (which is what the article is actually about) is the same as wanting teenage characters/actors fuck. That wanting positive depictions of queer sexuality is in someway prurient and dirty.

The complaint people have is two fold. The show is sexless, which is fine. But is aggressively praised as "wholesome" "heart warming" or this headline:

"a new dose of queer joy" this season, season 2 deals with Charlie having been so badly bullied for being gay that he used to cut himself, he has an eating disorder that is spiraling out of control and oh yeah a kid gets throw out of her home for being gay. I wish I could re-find it for a screen shot, but I saw a Tumblr post that described Heartstopper as "all-ages" and "family friendly".... and this is our objection that gay sex or the implication of it is the ONE and only qualifier for if something is "wholesome" other shows, like say Euphoria that deal with heavy teenage topics like a serious eating disorder for example are not talked about as "all-ages". Indeed if you want a better example, Love Victor, Young Royals, Skam, were/are all YA focused tv shows centering on a gay lead/gay couple which deal with heavy topics as well as first relationship and coming out. I've NEVER seen them talked about as "wholesome" even though they are sweet and beautifully done. Why? because the characters are sexually active, we don't WATCH them but we know something happened. There's just something alarming about gay sex or even the hint of it being the one and only test for "family friendly" (for the record I would say the topics in Heartstopper even as it is are NOT all-ages)

the second part of the problem is this, the implication or sometimes outright statement ("why does this middle aged guy care?!") that people, adults who are interested in positive depictions of youth queer sexuality are..... perverts, pedophiles, sickos, weirdos, gross. That is... the oldest and most dangerous slur against the gay community. In the 1960s, 70s, and 80s the gays were out to "recruit" your children to "the homosexual life style" by molesting them of course. Today we have "groomers" they're "grooming our children". This idea that queer adults only want to see teenagers fuck on TV is a homophobic assault on all queer people. It seems to have never crossed people's minds that we maybe want the next generation of queer young people to come of age without the crippling sexual shame many many gay people have where they feel like wanting to do the things we want sexually is disgusting (ironically Charlie says that his bullies called him disgusting, because of what he wants to do, gay sex is being called disgusting) and indeed this narrative that "no actually! its totally normal! and only SICKOS! who have BRAIN ROT! think otherwise" (being gay was listed as a mental illness, and indeed I know someone who was sent to a camp to "cure" his gay illness) strongly implies indeed says that 15/16 year olds who are thinking about sex, gay sex, wanting to have gay sex, or even just thinking about it are prurient, outside the norm, which circles back to what I said about gay shame around sex and how amazingly intense it is.

like I said I don't think anyone is saying Charlie and Nick should fuck and we should watch in every thrusty detail, Heartstopper is not that show, we all know. What people are saying is that while the show is dealing with other heavy topics, it remains weirdly Disney Channel about sex. Every nick and Charlie kiss is carefully shot to avoid too much contact, too much passion. When Nick gives Charlie the hickey everyone reacts with HORROR and DISGUST no one has a sense of humor about it other than ironically the bullies who find it funny, Nick, Charlie and Tao all act as if Charlie has the Scarlet Letter on him. Indeed their conversation about sex never once uses the word "sex" or admits in any way that either of them have a serious interest in it, or have thought about it. No one is saying the scene should have gone differently in the basics, but rather than a tender moment where two boys face and deal with their feelings about sex its an awkwardly rushed through scene that avoids the word sex at all costs in an effort to make sure we know they won't be doing the nasty because they're not "like that"

finally this doesn't fit into what I'm talking about but thought was a very good point so I'm putting it in

For a show about a Genz Queer friend group it is UTTERLY TOTALLY devoid of ANY sense of humor about being gay. Queer GenZ and millennials have a irreverent sense of humor around their sexualities and genders, the number of times a day I say "I'm having a full faggot crisis" or say to a friend "you are gay as hell" it is frankly very odd to see teenage queer friends who never joke about it, ever at all.

FACTS! I’m 20 years old and I know so many people my age and older who are not only virgins, but haven’t even had their first kiss. And that’s totally normal. Also Nick and Charlie have only been dating for like 2 months?? That’s a perfectly normal progression for a relationship, Euphoria and Riverdale have just rotted people’s brains so hard that they’ve forgotten about normal, tame teenagers

[baeddel]

Please. Please can you tell me what a baeddel is and why people (terfs?) used it in a derogatory manner on this website for a hot minute but now no one ever uses it at all

you asked for it, fucker

[2k words; philology and drama]

baeddel is an Old English word. i have no idea where it actually occurs in the Old English written corpus, but it occurs in a few placenames. its diminuitive form, baedling, is much better documented. it appears in the (untranslated) Canons of Theodore, a penitential handbook, a sort of guidebook for priests offering advice on what penances should be recommended for which sins. in a passage devoted to sexual transgressions it gives the penances suggested for a man who sleeps with a woman, a man who sleeps with another man, and then a man who sleeps with a baedling. so you have this construction of a baedling as something other than a man or a woman. and then it gives the penance for a baedling who sleeps with another baedling (a ludicrous one-year fast). then, by way of an explaination, Theodore delivers us one of the most enigmatic phrases in the Old English corpus: "for she is soft, like an adulturess."

the -ling suffix in baedling is masculine. but Theodore uses feminine pronouns and suffixes to describe baedlings. as we said, it's also used separately from male and female. but it's also used separately from their words for intersex and it never appears in this context. all of this means that you have this word that denotes a subject who is, as Christopher Monk put it, "of problematic gender." interested historians have typically interpreted it as referring to some category of homosexual male, such as Wayne R. Dines in his two-volume Encyclopedia of Homosexuality who discusses it in the context of an Old English glossary which works a bit like an Old English-Latin dictionary, giving Old English words and their Latin counterparts. the Latin words the Anglo-Saxon lexicographer chose to correspond with baedling were effeminatus and mollis, and Lang concludes that it refers to an "effeminate homosexual" (pg 60, Anglo Saxon). this same glossary gives as an Old English synonym the word waepenwifstere which literally means "woman with a penis," and which Dines gives the approximate translation (hold on tight) male wife.

R. D. Fulk, a philologist and medievalist, made a separate analysis of the term in his study on the Canons of Theodore 'Male Homoeroticism in the Old English Canons of Theodore', collected in Sex and Sexuality in Medieval England, 2004. he analysed it as a 'sexual category' (sexual as in sexuality), owing to the context of sexual transgressions in the Canons. he decides that it refers to a man who bottoms in sexual relationships with another man. i don't have the article on hand so i'm not sure what his reasoning was, but this seems obviously inadequate given what we know from the glossary described by Dines. Latin has a word for bottom, pathica, and the lexicographer did not use this in their translation, preferring words that emphasized the baedling's femininity like effeminatus, and doesn't address the sexual context at all. Dines, however, only reading this glossary, seems to decide that it refers to a type of male homosexual too hastily, considering the Canons explicitly treat them separately. both Dines and Fulk immediately reduce the baedling to a subcategory of homosexual when neither of the sources to hand actually do so themselves.

by now it should be obvious why, seven or so years ago, we interpreted it as an equivalent to trans woman. I mean come on - a woman with a penis! these days I tend to add a bit of a caution to this understanding, which is that trans woman is the translation of baedling which seems most adequate to us, just as baedling was the translation of effeminatus that seemed most adequate to our lexicographer. but the term cannot translate perfectly; its sense was derived from some minimal context; a legal context, a doctrinal context, and so forth... the way Anglo-Saxons understood sex/gender is complicated but it has been argued that they had a 'one sex model' and didn't regard men and women as biologically separate types, which is obviously quite different from the sexual model accepted today; in any case they didn't have access to the karyotype and so on. the basic categories they used to understand gender and sexuality were different from ours. in particular, Hirschfield et al. should be understood as a particularly revolutionary moment in the genealogy of transsexuality; the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft essentially invented the concept of the 'sex change', the 'transition', conceived as a biological passage from one sex to the other. even in other contexts where (forgive me) #girlslikeus changed their bodies in some way, like the castration of the priestesses of Cybele, or those belonging to the various historical societies which we believe used premarin for feminization [disputed; see this post], there is no record that they were ever considered men at any stage or had some kind of male biology that preceded their 'gender identity.' the concept of the trans woman requires the minimal context of the coercive assignment at birth and its subsequent (civil and bio-technological) rejection. i have never encountered evidence that this has ever been true in any previous society. nonetheless, these societies still had gendered relations, and essentially wherever we find these gendered relations we also find some subject which is omitted or for whom it has been necessary to note exceptions. what is of chief interest to us is not so much that there was such a subject here or there in history (and whatever propagandistic uses this fact might have), but understanding why these regularities exist.

a very parsimonious explanation is that gender is a biological reality, and there is some particular biological subject which a whole host of words have been conjured to denote. if this were the case then we would expect that, no matter what gender/sexual system we encounter in a given society, it will inevitably find some linguistic expression. if, like me, you find this idea revolting, then you should busy yourself trying to come up with an alternative explanation which is not just plausible, but more plausible. my best guesses are outside the scope of this answer...

anyway, all of this must be very interesting to the five or six people invested in the confluence of philology and gender studies. but why on earth did it become so widely used, in so many strange and unusual contexts, in the 2010s? we're very sorry, but yes, it's our fault. you see apart from all of this, there is also a little piece of information which goes along with the word baeddel, which is that it's the root of the Modern English word bad. by way of, no less, the word baedan, 'to defile'. how this defiled historical subject came to bear responsibility for everything bad to English-speakers doesn't seem to be known from linguistic evidence. however, it makes for a very pithy little remark on transmisogyny. my dear friend [REDACTED] made a playful little post making this point and, good Lord, had we only known...

it went like this. its such a funny little idea that we all start changing our urls to include the word baeddel. in those days it was common to make puns with your url (we always did halloween and christmas ones); i was baeddelaire, a play on the French poet Baudelaire. while we all still had these urls a series of events which everyone would like to forget happened, and we became Enemies of Everyone in the Whole World. because of the url thing people started to call us "the baeddels." then there was "a cult" called "the baeddels" and so forth. this cult had various infamies attatched to it and a constellation of indefensible political positions. ultimately we faced a metric fucking shit ton of harassment, including, for some of my friends, really serious and bad irl harassment that had long-term bad awful consequences relating to stable housing and physical safety and i basically never want to talk about that part of my life ever again. and i never have to, because i've come to realize that for most people, when they use the word baeddel, they don't know about that stuff. it doesn't mean that anymore.

so what does it mean? you'll see it in a few contexts. TERFs do use it, as you guessed. i am not quite sure what they really mean by it and how it differs from other TERF barbs. i think being a baeddel invovles being politically active or at least having a political consciousness, but in a way thats distinct from just any 'TRA' or trans activist. so perhaps 'militant' trans women, but perhaps also just any trans woman with any opinions at all. how this was transmitted from tumblr/west coast tranny drama to TERF vocabulary i have no idea. but you will also find - or, could have found a few years ago - i would say 'copycat' groups who didn't know us or what we believed but heard the rumours, and established their own (generously) organizations (usually facebook groups) dedicated to putting those principles into practice. they considered themselves trans lesbian separatists and did things like doxx and harass trans women who dated cafabs. if you don't know about this, yes, there really were such groups. they mostly collapsed and disappeared because they were evildoers who based their ideology on a caricature. i knew a black trans woman who was treated very badly by one of these groups, for predictable reasons. so long-time readers: if you see people talking about their bad experiences with 'baeddels', you can't necessarily relate it to the 2014 context and assume they're carrying around old baggage. there are other dreams in the nightmare.

the most common way you'll see it today, in my experience, is in this form: people will say that it was a "slur" for trans women. they might bring up that it's the root of the word bad, and they might even think that you shouldn't use the word bad because of it, or that you shouldn't use the word baeddel because it's a slur. all of this is a silly game of internet telephone and not worth addressing. except to say that it's by no means clear that baeddel, or baedling, were slurs, or even insulting at all. while Theodore doesn't provide us with a description of how we can have sex with a baedling without sinning, and it may be the case that any sexual relations with a baedling was considered sinful, sexuality-based transgressions were not taken all that seriously in those days. there was a period where homosexuality within the Church was almost sanctioned, and it wasn't until much later that homosexuality became so harshly proscribed, to the extent that it was thought to represent a threat to society, etc. and as i mentioned, there are places in England named after baedlings. there is a little parish near Kent which is called Badlesmere, Baeddel's Lake, which was recorded in the Anglo-Saxon Domesday Book (as having a lord, a handful of villagers and a few slaves; perhaps only one or two households). it's not unheard of, but i just don't know very many places called Faggot Town or some such. it's possible that baedlings had some role in Anglo-Saxon society which we are not aware of; it could even have been a prestigious one, as it was in other societies. there is just no evidence other than a couple of passing references in the literature and we'll probably never have a complete picture.

[tyonfs]

cat & mouse

❝ rule number one of bro code states that sisters are completely off-limits, and, y/n, we just pushed that limit. ❞

PAIRING ▸ na jaemin x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, crack, fluff, college au, friends with benefits au

WARNINGS ▸ lots of !! sexual tension !! and jaemin acting like a dick, protective big brother!jaehyun, lots of sneaking around, jaemin calls you princess a lot, teasing, fingering, alcohol consumption, hooking up, thigh riding, smut, oral sex, aftercare

SUMMARY ▸ tired of meaningless hookups and dull parties, na jaemin had always been hesitant to indulge himself. that is, of course, until he met you. however, upon realizing you’re none other than jeong jaehyun’s little sister, jaemin has to keep his relationship with you under wraps to make sure his team captain doesn’t find out. 

PLAYLIST ▸ move! by niki • playinwitme by kyle (feat. kehlani)

WORD COUNT ▸ 17713 words

TAG LIST ▸ @chubsluda​ @celestialchans​ @treasurestay​ @luvlyjaemin​ @lanadreamie​ @kylomeyon​ @taehinsano​ @jenotation​ @ovelha-colorida-v​ @hrjflrt​ @to-blessed-2-be-stressed​ @honeyju​ @chanluster​ @sweetjaemss​ @najaemsenthusiastttt​ @neovrse​ @jjikyuu​ @treasurestay​ @ahgastayzen​ @wcnderlandss​ @jaehy9ngs​ @jaemxins​ @syhznanny​ @lilminyoongles​ @bbnana​

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you so much for all of your love and support !! it’s beyond me & i hope you guys enjoy this ! part of the dunk shot! series but it can be read separately ♡

NA JAEMIN HATED PARTIES.

In the same vein, he hated basketball to an extent. It wasn’t the sport itself that he despised, it was the commitments that followed it. As a vital player on the team, he was obligated to attend every afterparty despite how much he loathed parties. Yet, what he couldn’t stand was being nagged by his teammates, so Jaemin went to the parties. He went to the parties and drank until he was numb and the party was tolerable.

He didn’t even like drinking that much, but he didn’t have much of a choice when most of the members of the basketball team were his seniors. Jaemin was pretty sure his brain cells depleted one-by-one every time he took a shot, but sometimes he got away with faking his alcohol intake when the others were too drunk to keep track. His best friend, Lee Jeno, on the other hand, lived for parties like this. Jaemin used that to his advantage; Jeno was the perfect target to hand off his unwanted shots to.

“Jaemin!” Jeong Jaehyun, the captain of the basketball team, made his presence known easily. After all, the parties were always hosted at his house. “Let’s do a love shot.”

If it were anyone else, Jaemin would’ve turned them down with some sarcastic, witty comeback. However, Jaehyun was different. Jaemin admired him since they were high schoolers on the basketball team. Jaehyun was two years older but his skills were on another level. Jaemin had always worked to see if he could surpass him but to no avail.

“Sure.” Jaemin got off of the couch, where he was aimlessly scrolling through his social media and observing the party. He followed Jaehyun to the kitchen counter. “You got tequila?”

It was a stupid question. Jaehyun was loaded; his supply of alcohol seemed endless.

“Of course,” Jaehyun replied. He took a red solo cup and measured a shot of tequila. “By the way, why don’t you talk to any of the girls here? You seem tense. You should get laid.”

It wasn’t like Jaemin intentionally avoided the girls. He just had no interest in people who wanted to blindly hook-up and forget about it the next morning. He didn’t completely ignore them either. Jaemin distinctly remembered a pretty blonde passing him her vape pen, which he politely refused. While he didn’t mind destroying his liver, he wanted to keep his lungs intact.

“There’s no one here I want to fuck,” was Jaemin’s impassive response. “Especially not when they’re drunk off their ass.”

“Is that so? How much did you drink tonight?”

“This is my third or fourth shot, I think.”

Jaehyun snorted and held out the red solo cup to him. “Well, here’s to your intact virginity.”

“I’m not a virgin.” Jaemin took the cup and swished its contents around. “Can’t we toast to something more practical? Like basketball?”

A chuckle escaped Jaehyun’s lips, bemused like a father to his son. He eyed Jaemin as he held the red solo cup to his lips. “Ready?”

Jaehyun didn’t wait for Jaemin, though. He tipped his cup up, downing the contents, and Jaemin followed suit as quickly as he could. The tequila was a smooth burn down his throat, but it made Jaemin feel slow and hazy. The fire spread across his chest, spreading to his arms, legs, and then his head. He felt fuzzy and was sure he had hit his limit for the night.

Jaemin took an unstable step forward, and Jaehyun put a firm hand on his shoulder, asking, “You good?” to which Jaemin answered with a dazed nod. With a grin, Jaehyun patted his back firmly. “See you when we’re both conscious again, man.”

The next thirty minutes were a blur. Jaemin found himself at a beer pong table and, in his drunken state, pretended he was practicing his free throws while he relished the crowd cheering him on. He felt a pair of hands on his shoulders, cheering wildly at the side until he got a headache. Eventually, the house felt too stuffy and he decided to go out to the backyard to let his buzz fade out.

Outside wasn’t any better. The cheers were louder outside and the music was still blasting. The fog in Jaemin’s head thickened and he was sure he felt hands trying to guide him to the pool, but he brushed them off. He narrowed his eyes onto a lawn chair and willed himself to walk straight towards it.

Sit, he ordered himself. Do not get in the pool and make a fool out of yourself.

After pushing past a few of his teammates and the girls hovering around them, Jaemin’s knees buckled under him as soon as he got to the lawn chair. It was damp when he sat down, but he was too drunk and dazed to care. Jaemin looked up at the sky, unfocused, and was only pulled from his thoughts when his phone went off.

annoying jeno: where tf did u go? this girl wants me to introduce her to u

It was time for another shot.

Jaemin felt heavy. He sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair, and spotted a red solo cup on the side table to his right. He reached for it and inspected the contents, sloshing it around sluggishly until he noticed a pair of eyes boring into him.

You were isolating yourself from the rest of the party, just like him. You weren’t giving him the sex eyes like he had expected; you looked more confused. Unlike Jaemin, you looked much more sober and functional. It was painfully obvious by the way Jaemin couldn’t seem to focus on you without seeing double.

He wasn’t sure if it was because of the alcohol in his system, but Jaemin had no idea who you were, but fuck, he wanted to. He pushed it down, though. Hookups were never fulfilling, and Jaemin wasn’t here to let himself go.

“Why are you staring at me?” Jaemin asked in a low voice, trying to speak coherently without slurring his words. He wasn’t sure if it worked, but you seemed to understand.

To his surprise, you fired a question back at him. “What are you doing?”

Jaemin wasn’t sure how to answer that. He was obviously drunk off his ass, so what was he supposed to explain when it was clear as day?

“Waiting for this stupid party to be over,” Jaemin replied. He dropped his gaze back to the cup he held on his lap. “Why are you still staring? I’m not interested.”

“You’re holding my drink.”

Jaemin stilled. He looked between you and the cup for a moment before muttering a pathetic “oh.” He flushed and held the cup out to you. “Sorry.”

You took the cup gingerly and downed your shot before advising him, “You know, you shouldn’t be taking random cups and drinking from them at parties. You never know what they could be laced with.”

Jaemin’s head lolled to the side, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He didn’t want to join the party, but he didn’t want to sit back and be scolded. He was debating making a run for the fence in Jaehyun’s backyard. His house was only a few blocks away and he was pretty sure he’d be sober enough to make it. Jeno, however, was the obstacle he was worried about. If he ran off without telling Jeno (who was going to disapprove anyway), he was sure to get an earful the next day.

“Also,” you continued, “don’t go around assuming every girl who looks in your general direction wants to fuck you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jaemin grumbled, too drained to argue back. “Shouldn’t you be partying with everyone? It’s depressing over here.”

“This isn’t my party to celebrate,” you said, biting down on the rim of your cup delicately. “I’m just here for the drinks.”

Jaemin didn’t know what to say to that, so he decided to introduce himself. “I’m Na Jaemin, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you replied. “Pleasure to meet you, Na Jaemin.”

Jaemin’s eyelashes were obscuring his vision as he tried to squint to make you out. He wasn’t sure if it was the drunken stupor, but you were breathtaking. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that Jaemin was currently seeing double of you. Jaemin wasn’t sure how he had ever missed you at any of the other parties (if you even showed up to those), but he was glad he snuck away to the backyard now.

Jaemin turned back to look at the scene before him, full of shrieks and shouts from partygoers as they danced off-beat to the blasting music. He almost didn’t notice the ultimate bastard, Yuta Nakamoto, walking over with his eyes set on not Jaemin, but you. Yuta only seemed to see Jaemin when he neared the two and, despite the awkward pause in the air, held his hand up to fistbump him. Jaemin lazily returned it, not really processing until seconds later when Yuta had already passed him.

It wasn’t that Yuta and Jaemin had any bad blood between them. Rather, Jaemin found the older boy quite fun to be around, and on top of that, he was a really supportive and caring teammate. However, when it came to parties, Yuta tended to be a lot more high-energy than Jaemin was.

“Hey, Y/N,” Yuta crooned deviously, standing over you with his hands shoved in his pockets. He crouched down so he was at eye-level with you, holding onto the arm of your chair. “Care to dance with me?”

“Yuta Nakamoto,” you drawled, a smile appearing on your lips. “I’m good over here, but you go have fun.”

Yuta stood up again, a cat-like grin spreading from ear-to-ear across his face as he stepped back toward the pool. “You’re gonna miss out, Y/N. You cool with that?”

The smile never left your lips as you rolled your eyes at him. Yuta turned to dive into the pool, making Jaemin’s nose scrunch as the splash was big enough to get water on his clothes. When Yuta surfaced, he smoothed his hair back and wiped the excess water from his face. He caught your eye again, winking before swimming toward Jungwoo and splashing him, leaving you shaking your head and chuckling.

“You two close?” Jaemin asked in a mumble, not quite sure where he was going with the sudden conversation.

You were shocked momentarily, but smiled when you looked over at Jaemin. “Let’s just say he wants to get in my pants but I find the age gap inappropriate.”

Jaemin snorted. “Really? How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

Jaemin rose a brow. He was just a year older than you but not so far off from Yuta. He hadn’t seen many college students be so conscious of a legal age difference of a year or two. After all, nearly everyone was an adult anyway.

“That’s not so far off from Yuta,” he told you.

You hid a smile, nearly going unnoticed under the dim light, but Jaemin had just caught it in time. “He’s like, my brother’s age,” you replied. “It’s just weird.”

Jaemin didn’t really get it, but he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to. He was an only child so he didn’t really think his opinion was valid anyway. Yet, he must have been looking at you weird because you bit your lip and shrunk under his gaze. Jaemin swallowed and turned back to look down at his feet, trying to get his head out of the clouds, but the buzz was still too strong.

He couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, “What if it was me?”

“Huh?”

He wasn’t looking at you but he could feel your gaze boring into him. Jaemin wanted to melt into a puddle then and there. He was never the type to make a move like that, usually expecting girls to approach him, but now that he did, his skin was crawling with shame. Although, he figured it wouldn’t be too bad if he ended the night in bed with you.

Jaemin worked up the courage to turn his gaze to you. “I’m a year older than you. Would you be down if it was me?”

“Yeah,” you admitted bluntly, causing the tips of Jaemin’s ears to go red. “But I don’t know you, so…”

“Do you want to?” he asked, then clarified, “Get to know me, I mean.”

The two of you were silent for a moment, and it was far more deafening than the booming party around them. Jaemin’s gaze dropped from your face to look back at the college students wading around in the pool. Someone must have messed with the pool because it had started to fill up with bubbles, making the crowd cheer louder. Entranced, Jaemin nearly didn’t notice you when you were standing right over him. He arched a brow at you, scooting back a little out of shock.

“Do you want to get out of here then?”

You were smiling coyly and Jaemin didn’t have the willpower to resist anymore. He stood up, looking around for Jeno, before turning to you and nodding. Everyone was so consumed with the pool foaming up that it would be easy for them to escape from the backyard.

“I’m way too drunk to drive, but we can go for a walk,” Jaemin suggested, leading her out through the backyard fence. He had escaped from there countless times, only for Jeno to drag him back, but this time, Jeno was preoccupied.

Yet, something unsettled him about not informing his best friend, so he decided to shoot him a quick text.

jaemin: i’ll see u back home, i’m with a girl lol

annoying jeno: deadass? have fun

Now, at least Jaemin had one thing off his chest.

“So what’s your deal?” Jaemin asked you as he tried to focus on walking in a straight line. “You have guys like Yuta Nakamoto lining up for you and you’re passing up my boy?”

“If he’s your boy then why are you trying to make a pass at me?” you shot back, grabbing his arm to provide leverage when he stumbled.

“Touché,” Jaemin grumbled. “It’s not like he was scoring, so I might as well shoot my shot.”

“Did you score?”

The corner of Jaemin’s mouth twitched. “That’s for you to decide, isn’t it?”

Mutual attraction was such a strange feeling because the sexual tension was there and so loud. Granted, about 90% of it came from Jaemin, but something about the way you were still holding onto his arm and laughing at his stupid jokes made him feel like something was going to happen tonight.

“We should stargaze,” you offered, pointing at a grassy hill behind a park the both of you were passing by. Jaemin nodded in response, so you dragged him by the arm to the chosen location.

Stargazing meant laying down, and laying down meant not having to focus on walking in a straight line anymore, so it sounded absolutely heavenly to Jaemin right now. Somehow, he felt like such an amateur right now. No girl had ever asked him to lay down and stargaze with him; they always just skipped to the bedroom fun.

You let go of Jaemin to lay down on the grass, positioning yourself like a starfish before patting the space next to you and then moving your hands to rest on your stomach. You looked entranced with the stars above you, but the moment Jaemin laid down next to you, you turned to him, catching him off-guard. Jaemin’s eyes flickered from you to the sky above.

“The stars are beautiful,” he said weakly.

He couldn’t even see the fucking stars.

“Damn, I thought you were gonna call me beautiful for a second,” you teased, nudging his shoulder lightly.

“You wish,” Jaemin said with a light snort, swallowing thickly. “There’s no way I’m calling a girl that over my dead body.”

He was a terrible liar. It was clear when Na Jaemin was feeling lustful. His eyes would turn half-lidded and his voice would drop a few octaves. Right now, all of that was happening along with his fingers twitching at his sides. You were looking back up at the sky when he turned his head to look at you, and god, you were so pretty.

“Girls must come running for you,” you told him, “otherwise I really can’t figure out the ego.”

“That’s the problem when you’re a star basketball player and devilishly handsome.” Jaemin grinned, folding his arms behind his head. “You turn out like me.”

“How mortifying.”

“I know, right?” Jaemin turned onto his side for a brief moment to look at you. “How come I’ve never seen you around before. I’m sure I would’ve remembered…”

“Because I’m beautiful?” you offered.

Jaemin groaned, pink dusting his cheeks. “Why are you so fixed on that?”

You laughed in response while Jaemin just stared at the heartstopping curve of your lips. He felt himself grow hot, anticipation mixed with the weight of the situation. He had never been the type to feel so jittery around a girl, but here he was, a touch anxious because he was afraid of doing something wrong.

“That’s Orion’s Belt there,” you pointed out. “Can you see Betelgeuse?”

You turned to look at Jaemin to see if you had his attention, but did a double-take upon realizing that you, in fact, had his full attention. His eyes were directly on you, not the night sky above. The both of you were so painfully close, and Jaemin couldn’t resist when he reached over to brush a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“I can’t see the stars,” he mumbled, his large hand moving to cup your cheek. When your gazes were locked, he caressed your cheek with his thumb gently and leaned in to kiss you.

Well, he was about to kiss you until he felt your finger pressing against his lips.

“I’m down for whatever,” you told him sweetly, “but I don’t kiss on the first date.”

Jaemin wasn’t sure what to make of that. Sure, he found it a little weird, but he could see the reasoning behind it. You were probably one of those people who saved your kisses for something special—whatever that meant. Honestly, Jaemin didn’t really care about the significance, but he did know it would be amplified if he found “the one.”

“So this is a date now?” he asked, amused.

“Somewhat.”

Jaemin huffed lightly and leaned back, letting his hand retract back to his side. “Down for whatever? Even sex?”

You raised a very attractive eyebrow at him, making Jaemin short-circuit for a split second. “If you play your cards right,” you said airily, your voice all light and fluffy.

“Down for whatever but the offer isn’t extended to anyone over the age of twenty-one.”

You punched his shoulder hard this time. “Bite me.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Whatever made Jaemin’s confidence swell was taking over fast. In seconds, Jaemin propped himself up with his elbow, using his free hand to brush your hair to the side and tilting your neck so he could have easier access to it.

To test the waters, Jaemin nipped at your supple skin, earning a hitch in your slowed breathing that encouraged him to do more. Jaemin left open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking harshly with each one. He licked his lips when he pulled away to look at your neck. You were tough to bruise but he loved a challenge. He maneuvered his body over you so he could indulge himself further, holding himself up with his forearms.

Jaemin dipped under your chin again, ravishing the side of your neck that he targeted. He littered the column of your neck with dark hickeys, smirking against your skin upon the sight. You were a squirming mess under him, tugging at his hair and bucking your hips up against his. Jaemin grunted softly, his hands pushing your hips down so you could no longer tempt him.

You wrapped your hands around him, one hand sliding up the nape of his neck to curl your fingers in his hair. Hands weren’t normally something that made Jaemin weak, but yours were driving him crazy with one in his hair and the other bunching up the fabric of his shirt.

He cupped the apex of your jeans, smug as you whined at his touch, yearning for more. Jaemin’s free hand grazed your waist before he lowered it to your hip. He pulled away from your neck to meet your gaze, biting his lip at your lustful expression.

“Can I?” he asked, pressing down slightly against your apex.

You nodded, about to say something but got cut off when Jaemin moved his hand down and palmed your clothed clit. Jaemin smirked once he heard the soft sigh falling from your lips. His breathing got heavier, mixing with yours as he started fumbling to unbutton your jeans.

You looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. “Jaemin…”

Jaemin swallowed hard and tugged your jeans down your hips a little. He felt like he was losing control with every touch. He just wanted to hold you in his arms and spend the rest of the night with you, and it was impossible to shake off that feeling when you were looking at him like that.

He playfully snapped the waistband of your panties, letting out a chuckle when your face twisted up and you pushed at his chest. Then, you drew him closer again and guided his hand down your pants. Jaemin took a shaky breath when he felt how wet you were. It filled him with pride, of course, but he had suddenly felt so nervous. He had hooked up with girls before, but this felt weird to him. Different, to an extent. They were just going through the motions, but he was struck with some strange feeling that he didn’t want to mess up or do something wrong. It was like his first time all over again when he had no idea what he was doing.

His silent cry for help was answered with rain.

“Jesus, it’s raining now?” Jaemin asked with a disapproving huff, pulling his hand out of your pants. He wondered if the people in Jaehyun’s backyard were going to move back inside or keep partying through rain and storm.

“It is?” You frowned and reached a hand over him to catch some raindrops. “You make a nice umbrella, Na Jaemin.”

“How kind of you,” Jaemin replied, a bit distracted by the rain pelting his back. “Should we make a run back to Jaehyun’s or do you want to, like…”

“Do I want to do it outside in the rain?” you asked, quirking a brow at him. “Absolutely not.”

“Worth a shot.”

Jaemin hauled himself up to his feet, holding a hand out for you so you could stand. You started patting down your clothes and fixing your fly. Jaemin did the same, making sure he looked presentable but he kept quiet about the dark hickey on the side of your neck. He squinted up at the drizzle of rain from the sky.

Cockblock, Jaemin thought bitterly.

Yet another distraction came in the form of a text message. Specifically, a text message from Lee Jeno.

annoying jeno: i’m going back to the apartment and ik ur with a girl but i left the keys at home so pls open the door

“Son of a bitch,” Jaemin grumbled to himself. He shoved his phone back in his pocket and looked at you when he noticed your questioning stare. Jaemin ran his hands down your arms, then held your waist gently. “I have to go.”

“Go?” you asked him, startled.

“Yeah,” Jaemin replied with a sigh, not wanting to divulge how idiotic his roommate was. “Can I get your number?”

This perked you right up, thankfully. Jaemin was satisfied as he watched you enter your phone number in his phone. This almost made him feel better about having to leave you alone to walk back to Jaehyun’s house in the rain.

Scratch that. He still felt like a piece of shit.

Jaemin slept off the party rather well.

He was in a bit of a mood, however, seeming tired and cranky in the morning. He had nearly thrown his phone at Jeno’s face when his best friend tried to shake him awake in the morning. It was a miracle that he showed up on time for his lecture. Around the afternoon, he received a text from you and was far more awake and alert after that. By the time he got to basketball, though, he was in a much better mood.

That is, until Jaehyun called for a team meeting.

The basketball team members were all sitting on the bleachers, waiting for a pissed-off Jaehyun to speak. Jeno picked at his nails next to Jaemin while YangYang in front of them was fiddling with the basketball. Jaehyun was only ever serious during games, but now his anger showed in a subtle and scary way that even Taeyong was a bit shaken by the change in his mood.

“Now, I’m going to say this once and you all better listen up carefully,” Jaehyun said in a low, dangerous voice. “If anyone—and I mean anyone—lays a hand on my little sister, then I will make sure you look uglier than you already are.”

Taeyong whistled lowly, impressed.

“Yuta,” Jaehyun continued, eyes narrowing at the older boy, “this message was inspired by you.”

“Received, reflecting, and apologizing,” Yuta said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’ll back off, Captain.”

“Good,” Jaehyun replied curtly as Yuta and Taeyong started to banter playfully over the topic.

Jaemin was unsettled. Jaehyun was upset over someone going after his younger sister? Now, Yuta was a flirt, but he recalled him pining for you last night and there was no way you were Jaehyun’s sister, right?

“Hey, Jeno.” Jaemin nudged the boy with his elbow. “Who exactly is Jaehyun’s sister?”

“Isn’t it Jeong Y/N?” he answered.

Goodbye world, was Jaemin’s first thought.

Yuta was flirting with you last night, but Jaemin straight-up nearly fingered you and—oh god, the hickey. Jaemin was at the end of his line right now, and if you said anything to Jaehyun, he was sure he was going to get his ass beat. He was starting to regret giving up his non-hookup life because of you; the only person Jaemin was flirting with now was Death.

“You good?” Jeno’s brows were knitted in concern.

“Jeno.” Jaemin swallowed down the dry lump in his throat. “Remember how I told you I was with a girl last night?”

“Yeah?” Jeno asked, searching Jaemin’s eyes for an answer. He found it rather quickly, eyes widening and voice dropping to a whisper. “Oh my god.” His gaze flickered from Jaemin to Jaehyun several times. “What are you going to do?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Jaemin whispered back. “We were both drunk. I’ll just ghost her subtly and she’ll forget about me. Easy.”

Jeno raised a brow at his plan. “Is hooking up with Jaehyun’s little sister worse than breaking her heart?”

“Oh please, it was one night. Give it a day or two. She won’t give a fuck.” Even though I kind of do, he added in his head.

The next time Jaemin saw you was after practice ended a few days later.

It had to be impossible that you could look any better than you did the last time he saw you, but here you were. It was unfair, really. Jaemin was a college student that was amped up with testosterone and hormones, and now he had no place to channel it. He was a second away from dragging you into an empty room and letting himself go with you, but then he remembered your older brother, and the horny thoughts dissolved into fear and shame.

“Ah, Jaemin,” you greeted with a cheerful smile.

Fuck, why did you have to be so cute?

Jaemin opened his mouth to reply, but quickly closed it and looked away from you. He leaned against the side of the bleachers and sighed while you were puzzled by his behavior. Although he wanted to ignore you, you were right there and the two of you were alone. Jaemin knew that the other guys wouldn’t be out of the locker rooms for another five minutes.

His gaze dropped to your hickey. It was so clear that you didn’t bother trying to cover it up, and the sight made Jaemin feel proud in some twisted way. Instinctively, he reached over and brushed his thumb over the sensitive bruise, smirking when you shivered.

“It looks good on you,” Jaemin complimented.

“Thanks.” You scoffed, then a mischievous glint shone in your eyes. “Maybe you should give me some more then.”

Jaemin stiffened, in a lot more ways than he should’ve. He gritted his teeth, willing the blood not to rush down all at once. He could not get horny at school when Jaehyun could walk out any second. And the older boy did. Jaemin backed away from you instantly, acting as if you were just some stranger passing by.

“I’ll pass,” he muttered under his breath and was sure you heard when he saw your face drop.

Great. Now he felt like an asshole.

“I gotta go,” he mumbled quickly before you could say anything else, moving past you to walk over to Jeno, high-fiving Jaehyun as he did. Jaemin didn’t have time to register your expression, but nevertheless, he felt like shit.

Jeno looked suspicious as Jaemin approached him. “Did you…”

“End it?” Jaemin finished for him. “I think so.”

“Can you just stop being a dick and talk to her?”

Ticked off, Jaemin took a deep breath. “If I talk to her, then one thing will lead to another, and Jaehyun—”

“Jaemin,” Jeno interrupted. “This isn’t about Jaehyun. This is about you and Y/N.”

Jaemin screamed out something incomprehensible and put his hands over his ears. “I can’t hear you, Lee Jeno. Can’t hear you over me getting ready to go to a party and get wasted tonight.”

“Na Jaemin, you’re my best friend but you’re an idiot.”

“I know that.” Jaemin made a face. “But it’s time for me to go and forget that.”

Jaemin never failed to forget how much he hated parties. He was starting to regret showing up in the first place. One of his teammates, Jungwoo, had let him into his frat party. Normally, guys were selectively chosen because the frat boys wanted more girls, but Jaemin was wasting his opportunity of getting in by doing absolutely nothing.

This was why he didn’t like drinking. He wasn’t even fun when he was drunk; Jeno was a social butterfly, Yuta was a flirt, but Jaemin would just wonder if plants existed and think about you.

“You look pissed off,” Jungwoo observed, holding out a red dixie cup to him. “Are you sure you want to party?”

“Yes,” Jaemin grumbled, taking the cup from him and downing it in seconds. “I need to let go.”

“Of?”

“Myself.”

Jaemin patted Jungwoo’s back firmly and moved to the kitchen to pour himself another shot. He didn’t know what he was thinking. He let himself get all worked up over some girl he barely even hooked up with. All he did was kiss your neck and here Jaemin was, looking like some cheap, heartbroken loser.

Oh, Jaemin thought out of the blue. I never told her she was pretty.

Jaemin took another shot, closing his eyes firmly as he thought of laying next to you again under the stars. Your lips looked so soft and kissable, your eyes so curious and alluring. He tried to push it away and focus on the party and getting drunk, but you kept appearing in his head like a mirage.

Let go, Jaemin, he told himself. Indulge yourself.

Jaemin leaned against the counter, bored. He sloshed the contents of his cup around, taking another shot when he felt the buzz start to wear out. A pretty brunette walked past him, flashing a coy smile.

He supposed she was one of the cheerleaders, or maybe she was a sorority girl. Either way, she was attractive and Jaemin could use the physical contact tonight. Part of him felt like it was the wrong thing to do, but all he could think about was how annoying it was to overthink every little thing he did.

Jaemin made his way over to her, tapping people’s shoulders and maneuvering his way through the cramped frat house. Everyone was clustered like schools of fish. Jaemin hated this kind of environment, but nevertheless, he put on a mask and did his best to fit in.

“Hey,” he greeted the girl once he found her. “I’m Na Jaemin.”

She smiled in that pretty way again. “I know you. You’re on the basketball team.” She looked embarrassed for a moment, flushing as she tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear. “I bet you don’t know me, though.”

“I don’t,” Jaemin admitted, “but you have a gorgeous smile.”

She beamed at this. “Hey, could you hold my cup for a second?” she asked, holding out her red dixie cup to him.

You want me to hold your cup when you can barely hold a conversation? Jaemin thought distastefully but took the cup anyway.

He leaned against the kitchen counter and waited for her patiently, and when she came back, Jaemin could tell she had left to touch-up her makeup. He could also detect the faintest spritz of perfume, but he wasn’t exactly sure, so he leaned closer to make sure.

Jaemin wasn’t sure how they ended up making out in one of the empty bedrooms upstairs, but by the time she was taking off her bra, he wanted to leave. He did his best not to look as bored as he felt throughout the heavy petting and removal of clothing, but his biggest fuck-up was worse than he had expected.

Even Jaemin himself felt mortified by what had just escaped his lips. By the disgusted look in the girl’s eyes, he was fairly confident this was going to spread around the school. As Jaemin was trying to conjure up some excuse for his actions, the girl stood up and started gathering her clothes.

“I’m not Y/N,” she muttered and left him alone in the room.

“Well, shit,” Jaemin grumbled, running a hand through his tousled hair after she left. “Should’ve told me your name then.”

Jaemin laid back on the bed, putting his hands over his face. He was royally screwed at this point and wondered if he had a shot at redemption. The fact that you were still on his mind was messing with him. Even now, after totally embarrassing himself, he was still stuck on you. To avoid further embarrassment, he pulled out his phone to deflect whatever impulsive action was creeping up his limbs.

jaemin: ok jeno im texting u instead of drunk texting y/n and confessing how badly i wanna kiss her

y/n: hi this is y/n

Jaemin wondered what sin he committed in his past life to get this unlucky.

jaemin: shit

jaemin: don’t talk to me i’m drunk at a party

y/n: jaemin you texted me first

jaemin: ugh i wanna see u so bad

jaemin: wanna make it up to u

y/n: oh my

y/n: you’re a little too drunk for that

y/n: but send me the address. i’ll come over and take you home

Jaemin was 98.75% sure that this was, by far, the stupidest thing he could do. Nevertheless, he shared his address with you and waited for you to come to get him. He hung out with Jungwoo in the meantime, slinging an arm around the older boy’s shoulder and confessing his embarrassing hookup while Jungwoo was high as a kite.

When you texted Jaemin that you were outside the frat house, he opened the door almost instantly. Jaemin couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face when you were standing right in front of him. You opened your mouth to say something, but Jaemin cut you off.

“I might have… might have called out your name during a hookup,” he confessed, slurring his words while he tried to speak coherently.

You looked like you were deciding whether to think it was funny or be suspicious over the fact that he tried to hook up with someone and then texted you afterward. Eventually, you ended up laughing at his story, tutting at his actions. Jaemin walked by your side, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He closed his eyes in an attempt to come back to his senses, only to be dragged back onto the sidewalk by you because he was apparently straying into the road.

“How much did you drink?” was your first question and one that Jaemin wasn’t sure he had an answer for.

“Six? Seven shots?” Jaemin counted but lost track after he held up five fingers. “I haven’t gotten this hammered in a while.”

“You’ve been flighty,” you told him. “I thought I wasn’t going to hear from you again.”

Jaemin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “That was the plan.”

“What?”

End it now, Jaemin, the devious half of his mind instructed. Break it off before it’s too late.

“I don’t exactly do hookups anymore, Y/N,” he said, which wasn’t exactly a lie, but you happened to break that streak for him. But then came the lie. “I’m not looking for anything serious now either, and I’m sure you aren’t.”

They walked in silence onto the campus grounds, turning into the street where the student apartments were. You looked down at your feet, a little more disappointed than Jaemin had expected. More than that, it looked as though you were embarrassed.

Cue Na Jaemin feeling like a douchebag, which he was.

“Aren’t you the one who asked if I wanted to get to know you?” you asked him, brow arched.

Jaemin panicked, his words trapped in his throat for a second. Well, you got him there. He didn’t have a good excuse that made him sound less of a dick. Although, he was already probably about to be blacklisted from your life pretty soon, so it didn’t really matter.

“I was drunk,” Jaemin said as his brain was trying to throw random words at him. “I didn’t know what I was thinking.”

They made it to Jaemin’s apartment, which was thankfully on the first floor because he didn’t think he could stand an awkward elevator ride with you. You didn’t look at Jaemin once, but it didn’t seem as though you were angry. Rather, you looked confused, but Jaemin swallowed down his guilt and took a step back once they were at his door.

“Besides,” he continued shamelessly to deliver the final blow, “you always have Yuta.”

You rolled your eyes at him and stormed off at once after those words. Jaemin was left alone, still looking down at his feet. He let out a long, dragged-out sigh, hitting his head back against the solid wood of his door.

“Idiot,” he scolded himself.

It took Jaemin a whole week and a half to get over you.

Even then, he didn’t really get over what happened. He just stopped blaming himself for it in front of Jeno and internalized everything else. Talking to Jeno didn’t really help, anyway, because Jaemin would just be hit with the “I told you so” and then be silently judged by his best friend.

Jeno had gone home for the long weekend, though, so Jaemin could finally mope about his apartment without Jeno smacking him upside the head and calling him a loser. Although Jaemin agreed with that, he was tired of remembering how shitty of a person and it was a constant reminder of how he treated you.

Although, he didn’t expect that reminder to physically manifest when he saw you in the hallway of his apartment on Friday night.

“Y/N?” he blurted out impulsively.

Jaemin had just decided to get something from the vending machine, not expecting to see you when he was standing in front of his doorway in his grey sweatpants and lack of shirt. His hair was bedraggled from staying in bed all day after his morning lecture ended. In short, he wasn’t exactly presentable and this wasn’t the look he wanted you to see.

“Jaemin,” you said softly, looking a bit startled. “I was just leaving my friend’s place.”

“Look—”

“It’s fine, Jaemin.” You managed a small smile for him. “There’s no hard feelings, okay? Water under the bridge.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you said, biting your lip afterward. “I just hope you’re not one of those guys who ghosts the girl if they don’t get sex out of it.”

Jaemin could feel the ice in your tone but brushed it off. “Honestly, I don’t care about sex that much.”

“Then what do you care about?”

Jaemin fixed his gaze on you, narrowing his eyes. He should have been grateful that you didn’t take it too personally and had forgiven him, but something was off. He didn’t doubt your reasons for being here, but an undercurrent of desire was definitely still there.

His morals were bouncing around his skull, warring with each other. Jaehyun was yelling at him to stop, but you were also there, and so fucking pretty. You wanted him, and he wanted you—it was almost perfect if it weren’t for your overprotective older brother who Jaemin respected too much. Then again, Jaemin had been shouldering too much guilt over the past week. He was sure he could handle some more.

What Jaehyun didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?

The hallway was empty, doused with lingering sleep. The world was dark outside but under the dim, flickering hallway light was you. And Jaemin was at his limit; he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Jaemin?” you asked, and something inside him snapped.

He grabbed your hands first before pushing you up against the wall and sealing his lips over yours. Your face morphed into a shocked expression, only making Jaemin amused as he pinned your hands up and over your head. Your lips were so warm and soft, molding against Jaemin’s lips perfectly. He felt your hands wrap around his neck to draw him closer, inciting a soft groan from the back of his throat. It was kind of pathetic that he was already hard, and he was sure you were aware of it by how he was pressed up against your lower body.

Jaemin picked you up effortlessly, scooping you into his arms by your thighs. You let out a little shriek and grabbed onto his shoulders, wrapping your legs around his torso at his encouragement. Jaemin took you into his room, kicking the door closed with his foot before heading to his room and dropping you on his bed.

He had never actually let a girl into his room, so this was a first. Somehow, seeing you on his own bed was so arousing, and he had half a mind to just take you then and there. Jaemin made you sit at the edge of the bed while he stood between your legs, hands on your thighs. You looked confused for a moment, but let Jaemin run his hands up and down your thighs.

You and Jaemin should not be in bed together. Under no circumstances should the two of you even be acquainted in the slightest. The fact that you two met was all one big, cosmic coincidence, but sometimes the stars loved fucking around with human affairs.

“I told you I had to make it up to you,” Jaemin said in a low voice, running his thumb across your bottom lip. “You don’t have to forgive me but I can’t keep being a coward.”

“A coward? More like a douchebag,” you told him, holding his wrist so you could bite the tip of his finger as you looked up at him through your lashes. “But glad you came to your senses.”

“So you forgive me then?”

You smiled, all innocent and pure, unlike your words. “Not unless you make it up to me.”

Jaemin dropped his gaze down to your shorts, eyeing them for a moment before he started tugging them down. You raised your hips to help him take your shorts off, followed by your panties. Jaemin nearly sighed at the sight of you; you were so gorgeous and so ready for him. He wanted to completely blow your mind.

Then, the nerves got to Jaemin again.

“Y/N,” he started, “we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can just cuddle or something.”

“Na Jaemin, if you don’t make me cum, I will scream,” you warned.

“Yeah?” Jaemin chuckled at your reaction. “I think you’re going to scream either way, though.”

“Shut up.”

Jaemin laughed, brushing your hair out of your face. He caressed your cheek, rubbing slow circles with his thumb before he dragged it down to your jawline. A small pout appeared on your lips and he ran his thumb over your bottom lip again as if he could wipe your pout away.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” Jaemin said.

Before you could open your mouth to say something, Jaemin plunged his finger in you, thumb quickly finding purchase on your clit and rubbing in slow, languid circles. He wasn’t very satisfied by your shell-shocked silence, so he added a second finger to get you moaning and squirming at his actions.

You gasped when Jaemin curled his fingers, and he relished the dazed expression on your face. He watched your eyelashes flutter and eyelids droop as he scissored his fingers in you, earning him blissful moans from your pretty lips. One of your hands was gripping the sheets at your side while the other was gripping Jaemin’s shoulder tightly. He knew he was doing a good job by the way your walls clenched around his fingers, and it made him swell with pride.

“You’re such an asshole,” you whimpered out, moaning again as he curled his fingers in you.

“Then why do you still want me?” Jaemin hissed. “You should have just hated me. I would have been fine if you weren’t so fucking perfect.”

You cried out as he plunged another finger in you. “Shit, you’re just—oh god.” Jaemin could tell you were at your peak, so he pulled his fingers out of you immediately, smirking at how distressed you looked.

Jaemin popped his fingers in his mouth, sucking off your juices. “You taste so good, princess.”

You scowled at him. “F-finish me off, at least,” you pleaded.

Jaemin gripped your thighs. “Oh, trust me, I will.”

Jaemin lowered himself and met your eyes before he leaned forward and sealed his lips over your clit, sucking harshly on the ball of nerves. You were so sweet and so wet, but what made Jaemin go crazy was the way the both of you locked eyes while he was between your legs. He let out a groan that vibrated against you.

He licked a strip along your slit, pleased with his reward of pants and moans from you. Your thighs squirmed around him so he gripped them harder and moved his hands up to your hips so he could eat you out with more vigor.

Jaemin snaked his tongue along your folds and you were gone. Already edged from being fingered, you were at your peak already. Back arching off the bed and hips squirming, Jaemin tongued your clit as he coaxed you into your orgasm. By the sound of your moans and cries, he felt like he was going to cum in his pants any second if you didn’t stop. You released over his tongue so easily, and Jaemin lapped it up as you made an effort to catch your breath.

At first, Jaemin was over the moon. He hooked up with you and wanted more. You were so enticing and Jaemin couldn’t get enough of you. Then came the crushing guilt. It registered a bit late, but it was all the more painful. He had just eaten out his friend’s little sister and couldn’t help the fact that he wanted her so badly.

“Not bad, Jaemin,” you breathed out, fixing your hair as your thighs still stiffened and twitched every now and then. “Is this the part where you push me away and ghost me for another week?”

Jaemin ran a hand through his hair, battling frustration and shame. “Look,” he started, “the reason I pushed you away was because you didn’t tell me your brother is Jeong Jaehyun!”

“Oh.” You blinked at him. “Yeah, he’s my brother. Is that a problem?” Jaemin let out a heavy sigh and you raised a brow at him. “You got a crush on him or something?”

Jaemin’s expression soured. “No! He’s my friend and teammate, Y/N. There’s an unspoken bro code between us men.”

You rolled your eyes. “Here we go.”

“Rule number one of bro code states that sisters are completely off-limits,” Jaemin said. “And, Y/N, we just pushed that limit.”

“You know, in girl code, we ask the friend for permission,” you offered.

“Jaehyun rounded us up at practice and told us that if anyone lays a hand on his little sister, he’s going to kill them,” Jaemin said. “I’m too young to die.”

You stood up to push Jaemin down by his shoulders, sitting him on the edge of the bed. Jaemin’s breath got caught in his throat when you sat on his lap, right where his bulge was painfully tented beneath his sweatpants. You traced his v-cut abs, making Jaemin shiver in response. He held your hips and swallowed thickly. He was pretty sure he knew where this was going. If you were about to ride him, he was sure he could die a happy man.

“Jaemin, my brother doesn’t control my life, so he’s not killing you over anything, okay?” you reassured him, then leaned in closer, nibbling on his earlobe. Jaemin shivered at the contact, tightening his grip on you. “But, if you’re so worried about it, then we could sneak around.”

A guttural groan escaped Jaemin when you rolled your hips against his. Were you teasing him? Because it was hard for him to think and this distraction wasn’t helping. Either way, all he could think about was making you cum again and seeing that delicate look on your face as you crumbled in front of him.

“Sneak—sneak around?” Jaemin stammered, mouth going dry when you started taking off your shirt, and fuck, you weren’t wearing a bra. “Huh?”

“Jaemin,” you said slowly, smirking as you traced a finger along his jawline. “If you don’t want Jaehyun to catch us, we can just meet up secretly.”

If this was a game of cat and mouse, there was a clear power difference right now; Jaemin felt more like the mouse while you were the cat.

Jaemin’s eyes darkened a bit. “Fuck yeah,” he mumbled, hand grazing your bare skin. His eyes devoured the way you looked, and you wanted to squirm at the hungry look on his face. It was kind of embarrassing how badly Jaemin wanted to skip this whole conversation and fuck you into oblivion.

“Jaemin,” you called again, noting how his eyes flitted from your lips to your eyes.

He gave up. “I’ll be honest. I have no idea what we’re talking about but if we’re keeping this going between us, I’m all for it.”

“Good answer,” you hummed and pressed your lips to his.

You were a damn good kisser, Jaemin observed. He didn’t notice it before, but you had on some sort of fruity chapstick on that was making his head go fuzzy. The taste was addicting, and thank god you bit down on his lower lip because he wasn’t sure if he could handle another second without his tongue in your mouth.

He pulled away for a moment so he could push you down onto the bed, getting over you. Jaemin sighed deeply as you skimmed your hands down his bare chest, fingers tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants.

“You know, I lied that night,” you told Jaemin, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m not usually down for whatever, but I wanted to try my chance with you.”

Jaemin tutted at you, circling a finger around your nipple. “You shouldn’t have lied, Y/N,” he said, making you whimper when he pinched your hard nipple. “Could’ve stroked my ego a little more.”

“Sorry, but I’m not here to stroke your ego, Jaemin,” you simpered, choking over your words when Jaemin pressed open-mouthed kisses to your chest, eventually snaking his hot tongue across your nipple.

“You already are,” Jaemin murmured against your skin, littering hickeys as he kissed your chest. “Your reactions are so cute.”

Jaemin sucked on his fingers for a brief moment to provide some extra lubrication, not that you really needed it. He used his pointer and middle finger to rub against your slit, your whines growing needier as you became more and more aroused. After one more needy mewl from your lips, Jaemin had enough. He tugged his sweatpants and boxers down in one go, his hard cock slapping against his stomach once it was free.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned brokenly, eyeing the length of his cock.

“Such a good girl,” he crooned down at you, teasing his cock against your slit until you were a gasping, moaning mess under him. Then, Jaemin pulled away, clicking his tongue and grinning while you narrowed your eyes at him. “Condom,” he remembered.

Jaemin got off the bed to retrieve the silver packet from his nightstand, tearing it open with his teeth in one go. He caught you staring at how incredibly hung he was, smirking proudly as he slid the condom onto his shaft. He pumped it once for good measure and moved back onto the bed with you.

He stayed on his knees, angling your hips up so that they were positioned with his cock. You looked confused by the awkward position, but Jaemin melted away your worries with a powerful thrust into you. He groaned at how tight you were with your warm, wet walls clenching around him rhythmically.

Jaemin could tell he was hitting all the right spots by the broken moans that were escaping you when he pounded in you. His own growls were low and grating, relishing the way you felt around him. You were clutching his sheets so tight and bucking your hips so often that Jaemin had to use a hand to push your lower abdomen down, smirking as he felt his cock move in and out of you.

“You’re so big,” you gasped out, looking visibly frustrated at how you couldn’t hold onto him.

“Princess, I regret not doing this earlier,” Jaemin admitted with another rough thrust into you, making you sob out some distorted version of his name. “You feel so fucking good.”

“I’m close,” you choked out, and Jaemin kindly aided you by rubbing your clit as he brutally fucked you into the mattress.

You tucked your head into your shoulder, biting back your cries, so Jaemin grabbed your hair in a fistful and tilted it back so he could see your face. A shudder ran down his spine. Your expression was so perfect, so fucked in and glazed over.

“Shit,” he growled, voice raspy from arousal as you came undone in front of him.

His nimble fingers continued to work on your clit as you fell apart, moans ringing in his ears like a song. He followed you into your bliss, unable to hold back. He leaned over you and continued fucking you through your orgasm, holding you and groaning as he, too, released.

Jaemin stopped when he was done and spent. His arms buckled as they struggled to keep himself over you, and he could only pull out and collapse by your side. He muttered out a few curses, struggling to find the right words to say as he stared up at the ceiling. That felt good? No, too dry. I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like that? No, too possessive.

He settled with “you’re amazing” as his chest rose and fell in tune with yours.

“Likewise,” you breathed out and looked over at him. “I have to go home soon.”

Jaemin didn’t know what came over him, but he rolled over and wrapped his arms around you tightly. Normally, he wasn’t one for cuddling or aftercare, but he didn’t want you to go so soon. You relaxed under his touch as Jaemin drew you closer to his body, pulling the sheets over you both.

“Don’t go,” Jaemin whispered, tucking some hair behind your ear.

You turned to look at him, running your finger along his cheek tenderly. “Jaehyun’s gonna ask.”

Jaemin threw the sheets off of you and stood up quickly. “Have a safe trip back.”

It was the very next day when Jaemin hooked up with you again.

You had sent him a rather suggestive text, stating that you found it strenuous to walk after the previous night. In some sick and twisted way, Jaemin found this extremely hot and invited you over that night. Needless to say, you found it even more difficult to walk afterward.

The next day was the last day of the long weekend, so you spent nearly the entire day at Jaemin’s place before Jeno came home. Sure, you had sex once or twice then, but Jaemin really liked having you around. Even when you both weren’t exactly doing anything, your mere presence was comforting to him. In past hookups with other girls, he would always just get up and leave after the deed was done. However, with you, he was suddenly a sucker for aftercare.

Jaemin still felt like shit for going behind Jaehyun’s back and he was starting to question his stealth when Jeno came back home and discovered your bra on the couch.

“Oh, that’s where it was,” Jaemin said blankly, taking the bra from Jeno. “By the way, how was visiting your family?”

Jeno was still stuck on the bra, however. “Hold on,” he started, “whose bra is that?”

“Mine.”

“You wear bras?”

“What? No.” Jaemin made a face. “The fuck?”

“Na Jaemin, did you sleep with a random girl on our couch?”

“First of all, it wasn’t a random girl. It was Y/N,” Jaemin defended. “And secondly, we did it against the wall, actually. The couch was just a poor observer.”

“I don’t know if I should be impressed or disgusted,” Jeno replied, pondering over his best friend’s words. He glanced back at the wall and inched away from it. “Did you figure out what you’re going to do about Jaehyun?”

Jaemin grinned sheepishly. “I mean, what Jaehyun doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”

“What happened to the Jaemin who was trying to ghost his sister?”

“He got laid.”

“This is so gonna backfire on you,” Jeno replied, shaking his head. “But I kind of want to watch it happen.”

“Dude,” Jaemin whined, rubbing his chin with his hand. “I broke the bro code so hard, but honestly, the sex is too good.”

“Jaemin, I don’t want to hear about your sexcapades, thanks.”

The next time Jaemin hooked up with you was almost an absolute disaster.

Keyword: almost.

“Jeno,” Jaemin warbled in a desperate cry, “I’m fucked. I’m absolutely fucked.”

“What’s up?” came the disinterested voice of his best friend who was sprawled out on the couch, flipping listlessly through a textbook.

“I need you to help me out,” Jaemin begged. “Y/N wants me to go over to her place but Jaehyun’s home.”

That was how Jaemin ended up behind your house, trying to hoist himself up onto a tree that was close to your window. Jeno was on the phone, keeping a lookout from his car that was parked on the street. This was, quite honestly, probably one of the stupidest things Jaemin had ever done because not only did he have a fear of heights, but he was risking his life just for his friend not to see him walking in the house.

There was something about hanging onto the branch of a tree for dear life that made a man question his pride.

“All this for some pussy,” Jeno tutted through his AirPods.

“Shut up, Jeno,” Jaemin muttered, a flush of heat rising to his cheeks. Truth be told, he just really wanted to see you, not that he would admit that.

He hauled himself onto one of the thicker branches that led to your window and inched his way along it to reach the windowsill. A frown crossed his lips as he reached out to knock on the glass. You told him you’d keep the window open for him, so why was it closed?

The answer was obvious, but it didn’t sink in until Jaehyun opened the window to see Jaemin dangling from a tree branch.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, was all that was running through his mind. His head felt like it was going a thousand miles per second but the rest of his body was short-circuiting.

“Jaemin, what are you doing outside my window?” Jaehyun asked, looking absolutely perturbed.

“I’m, uh…” Jaemin paused to think while he could hear Jeno laughing at him through his AirPods. “Jeno and I wanted to prank you.”

“Jeno? Prank?” Jaehyun questioned. “Are you not here for a study session with Y/N?”

Jaemin stilled. He wasn’t sure he had any classes with you, but surely you must have made up this excuse to Jaehyun so that Jaemin could be in your house freely. Jeno’s laughing intensified as Jaemin blinked at his team captain.

“Right, well—”

“Jaemin, what are you doing there?” your sweet, innocent voice rang from Jaehyun’s door.

There was a mischievous glint in your eyes despite how concerned you tried to look. Jaemin saw right through you, though, and grimaced.

“Just… hanging out,” Jaemin grunted out as he tried to crawl in through Jaehyun’s window.

Jaehyun reached his hand out to help Jaemin and dragged him through the window with ease, so smooth that Jaemin pretended he didn’t hit his head against the side of the frame of the window as he was pulled inside. The tree branch bounced back to its original position, its leaves rustling wildly once Jaemin’s weight was off of them. Jaehyun helped Jaemin dust himself off and grabbed one of his shoulders firmly, using his free hand to pat his back.

“Jaemin,” Jaehyun said slowly, “use the door next time.”

“Got it,” Jaemin croaked out.

“We can go to my room and study, Jaemin,” you piped up, turning on your heel to head back to your room as soon as you were sure you had his attention.

“Right, um… see you, man,” Jaemin told Jaehyun, awkwardly following after you after Jaehyun returned the goodbye.

Jaemin had been to Jaehyun’s house for parties, but being there in the daytime was unnerving. He ended the call with Jeno, quickly texting him that he was safe before stuffing his phone and AirPods in his pockets. Jaemin turned the corner to see you sitting cross-legged on the floor of your room. A loud sigh escaped his lips before he made his way in, closing the door behind him.

“You’re paying for that,” he warned.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, a laugh falling from your lips just before Jaemin strode over, pushing you down onto the floor and hovering over you. You parted your lips to speak but whatever you were going to say died on your tongue as Jaemin swooped in and kissed you.

This is a terrible place to be doing this, the rational side of Jaemin’s brain provided, but then he was kissing you and it didn’t matter anymore.

Jaemin lost himself in the kiss as soon as he was tasting your fruity chapstick. He cupped your jaw, intoxicated by the way your lips felt against his. He was so dazed that he hardly noticed you unzipping his pants, tugging them down by his belt loops.

“Aren’t we studying?” Jaemin teased, brushing his nose against yours. He glanced over at the mess of books and papers at your table.

“Mm, do you want to study instead?” you asked, drawing him closer to you. “Pass up on this and read up on some cell division?”

“Fuck no.” Jaemin scoffed, dragging his nails up your thigh. “Spread those legs for me, angel.”

A mewl escaped your lips when you spread your legs because Jaemin immediately started palming your apex without missing a beat. The burst of pride that followed made him a little braver, a little less worrisome over your older brother.

“Take off your pants,” you breathed out, tugging once more at his waistband.

“No.” Jaemin moved off of you and hauled himself up to sit on your bed. “I want you to ride my thigh.” His eyes practically devoured the way you looked. “And keep the skirt on.”

You stood up, biting your lip as you moved to straddle his right thigh. Jaemin’s hands ran up and down your thighs, moving up to your hips eventually to rub slow circles with his thumb. His lips were attached to your neck almost immediately, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column.

You let a whimper slip from your lips and Jaemin started bouncing his leg steadily, his muscular thigh rubbing against your clit. He guided your movements with his hands as you rolled your hips against him. Jaemin flexed his thigh every once in a while and made sure to pull you down on him whenever he could make use of the friction.

Another moan from you and Jaemin sneered. “You’re getting off so well on my thigh, Y/N. Such a fucking tease but you react so easily.” You whined again and Jaemin shushed you. “Be quiet, princess. We don’t want to be walked in on, right?”

And, because the world hated Jaemin, Jaehyun decided to walk in.

“Y/N, can I come in for a second?” he called from outside the door.

In an instant, you practically flew off of Jaemin’s lap, scrambling back to your table and burying your nose in your biology textbook. There were a few long seconds of Jaemin silently communicating with you out of frustration. You had escaped just fine, but Jaemin just had to get a hard-on, and now that you were off his lap, it was far too obvious through his pants.

But you already told Jaehyun he could come in, so Jaemin put both hands over his crotch in a valiant (but stupid) effort to hide his boner while the door opened.

“I’m going to the store,” Jaehyun said, looking between you and Jaemin from the doorway. “Want anything?”

“No, we’re good,” you replied, but Jaehyun’s eyes were fixed on Jaemin, narrowing slightly.

“I’ll get going then, but are you good?” Jaehyun asked, gesturing at the awkward position Jaemin was in. “The bathroom’s across the hall if you need to go.”

Jaemin’s eyes flitted to yours to see an amused look on your face, and he could practically hear your voice bouncing in his skull: This is fun.

This wasn’t exactly Jaemin’s textbook dictionary definition of fun, however.

“Thanks,” Jaemin croaked out, looking down at his lap in shame. A flush of red crossed his cheeks and you barked out a laugh as soon as Jaehyun was gone. “Not funny,” he grumbled out.

An impish grin crossed your face as you asked, “Need me to take care of your problem?”

“Please,” Jaemin almost begged.

The moment you stood up, Jaemin was quickly trying to tug his pants down, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his boxers to take them off with his pants. This was awful in the absolutely best way possible because Jaemin’s hands felt clammy but then you were kneeling down in front of him, helping him take his pants off. You looked up at Jaemin when his hard cock curved up against his stomach. A breath escaped his lips like it had been punched out of him and he wondered if his eyes were as comically wide as they felt.

When the sound of Jaehyun closing the front door echoed, you grasped Jaemin’s painfully hard cock in your soft hands. Jaemin’s tongue felt like lead in his mouth. He couldn’t even ask you to do anything with all his bravado from earlier suddenly vanishing. So, he curled a hand in your hair, more for his own leverage.

Jaemin’s stomach rearranged itself to feel like some crazed etch-a-sketch rather than the human anatomy when he felt your lips wrap around his cock.

“Shit, that’s it,” he growled when you went down on him. He flushed all over, clear in the way his cock twitched in your mouth, and it made him feel like some silly, lovesick teenager. “Oh god, you feel so good with your mouth wrapped around my cock, princess.”

A sound of approval came from your throat, vibrating against the throbbing vein along Jaemin’s shaft and making him go crazy. You bobbed your head up and down, teasing him by going so slow to the point that it was nearly unbearable for Jaemin. He felt like a coil of fire was tightly woven inside him, ready to snap at any given moment.

“Fuck… don’t tease me—wait, are you asleep?”

Jaemin looked down to see you half-asleep on his cock, lips brushing against the vein along the side. Your eyes weren’t hooded but fluttered shut, head lolling to the side and your tongue grazing the underside of his head. A hiss escaped Jaemin’s lips at your teasing, but he felt more incredulous than turned on.

“I’m tired,” you said, “and you didn’t finish me off, so why should I finish you off?”

“Well, this is just unfair,” Jaemin replied with a frustrated huff as you pulled off of him. His gaze softened when he saw you rub your eyes, though. He fumbled for a moment, pulling his boxers and pants back up and tucking away the frustration of not getting his release. “You’re actually tired?”

“Kind of,” you admitted. “I’ve been studying my ass off all week for midterms.”

“Okay, well…” Jaemin faltered before scooting back on your bed until he was against the wall. “Let’s take a nap then.”

“Nap? Oh, so we—oh, okay,” you mumbled and Jaemin’s heart skipped a few beats when he saw you suck in your lower lip nervously.

You crawled into your bed and laid down, pulling the covers over them after Jaemin moved so he was right next to you. Jaemin had never exactly slept with a girl like this, but with you, his chest felt warm. It felt right. Without a word, he pulled you to his chest so you wouldn’t have to see how nervous you were making him feel, praying you couldn’t hear his heart pounding in his chest.

“You’re warm,” you mumbled to him.

And, because Jaemin was a loser who feared rejection and the reality that he was an actual human who felt real emotions, he pressed his lips to your head and whispered into your hair, “I like you.”

If you heard him or noticed, Jaemin wouldn’t have known because falling asleep was so much easier with you in his arms.

“You slept with her? Like, without sex?” Jeno asked Jaemin that night, to which he nodded. “You didn’t hook up with her at all?”

“Jaehyun walked in the first time and the second time… let’s not get into that,” Jaemin replied. “The point is, we fucking cuddled, Jeno.”

“That’s kinda weird.”

“Right?” Jaemin tugged a hand through his hair, letting out an aggravated groan. “Maybe I shouldn’t go to Jaehyun’s place on Friday.”

Parties were one thing, but at least once a month, the basketball team would hold bonding events for everyone to unwind and chill. Jaemin usually attended every event since he was close with all of the members, but Jaehyun’s house became dangerous territory now because of you. However, Jaemin was expected to take the place of team captain when Jaehyun graduated, so he knew it would be bad if he didn’t attend all the socials the basketball team held.

“Why? Can’t keep it in your pants?” Jeno teased.

Jaemin threw a pillow at him. “Fuck off.”

“It’s been postponed to the end of the month, anyway,” Jeno assured. “Jaehyun said he had a date this Friday or something.”

“Then I’m safe for now.”

It got silent for a moment before Jeno asked, “Are you catching feelings?”

Silence.

Did Jaemin like you? Sure, he mumbled it for himself to hear when he was holding you, which was pretty suspicious of him to do that if he didn’t actually have any feelings toward you. He perfectly understood the feeling at an intellectual level, but absorbing it emotionally was beyond his realm of understanding. Plus, there was no point in having feelings for someone if they didn’t reciprocate.

Right?

Jaemin only had a few crushes before, and the feelings were so surface-level that he started to wonder how many aspects of life he had missed out on because of his inability to grow close to people. That was why he had confined himself to the hookup culture because the “no strings attached” aspect was so appealing to him, but now it was backfiring because of you. It was so fucked up because Jaemin didn’t even want to fuck around with you anymore. Scratch that. He did, but he also wanted to hold your hand, go on dates, and kiss you until your fruity chapstick made him dizzy again.

You were great in bed, but what got Jaemin’s heart racing was the way you laughed when he made a lame joke and you couldn’t get over how terrible it was; the way you told stories with your hands, and your face would light up because you would get so excited; the way the food you made looked absolutely nauseating but, for whatever reason, it tasted amazing, and Jaemin could go on, but he was afraid he’d start melting in front of Jeno.

“No way,” Jaemin lied. “It’s just for the sex, that’s all.”

It wasn’t fair that you always showed up at the one place Jaemin was most vulnerable: basketball practice.

Truth be told, you were causing Jaemin problems well before you even arrived. Hell, you had been causing problems for the past three weeks. Not that Jaemin hated it, but he couldn’t keep it in his pants every time you dragged him to a blind spot or invited him to your place. There were also times where Jaemin would just simply walk with you, or talk about your day in bed, or just hold your hand and stroke your hair until you fell asleep.

Pretty weird for fuckbuddies.

Earlier in the day, Jaemin had run into you while he was walking to his biology lecture, and after some light conversation, he had you pinned up against the back of a building. He ended up getting a very noticeable hickey on his neck from you that he didn’t know existed until Jaehyun pointed it out during practice.

“Jaemin.” Jaehyun let out a low whistle and gestured to his neck. “Finally got over your weird celibacy phase?”

“What are you—”

“Nice hickey,” Yuta complimented while he was passing by, “finally got laid, huh?”

Only then did Jaemin realize that you had marked up his neck, and did so proudly. You knew people would see but you still went ahead and did it. Jaemin would’ve been mad but somehow, the thought of showing off something you caused turned him on.

Thankfully, you showed up when practice had ended and the others were heading into the locker room, all sweaty and tired. Absorbed in their own conversations, the rest of Jaemin’s teammates were focused on talking about their last play and looking forward to a cold shower. Jaemin, however, did a double-take when he saw you, nudging Jeno to keep going while he stayed back.

You really had no good reason coming to the basketball courts. It wasn’t like you or your big brother actually wanted to walk home together.

“I’m starting to think you come here to see me,” Jaemin said smugly, making his way over to you.

“Not even,” you replied, although your fazed look said otherwise. “But I appreciate the eye candy.”

Jaemin reached out to take your hands in his and pulled you toward him. You looked down at your feet, right foot circling around one of the stray basketballs that had been left behind during practice. Jaemin, however, had his eyes focused on you. He couldn’t get tired of looking at you, especially when you were wearing that cozy purple sweater that made him want to pull you into his arms.

Jaemin noticed your foot on the basketball and held your hands a little tighter as you put your weight on it to get your other foot on. You were shakily balancing on it, grabbing Jaemin’s hands tightly as a grin slowly spread across your face.

You’re too cute, was what Jaemin wanted to say.

“You’re still shorter than me even when you’re standing on a basketball,” he teased instead, one hand slipping around your waist to keep you steady.

You pouted. “I’m basically the same height as you now.”

“Really?” Jaemin smirked at your expression, moving closer so that his lips were at your forehead. He moved his hands so they were both holding your waist, keeping you planted on the basketball. “I think I still have an inch or two on you.”

“That’s not fair,” you whispered, but Jaemin was tilting your chin up and smiling at how you were visibly growing shy. “Jaemin, my brother might walk out any second.”

“Fuck your brother,” Jaemin murmured and kissed you.

People threw around the term “time slowed down” so casually, that Jaemin believed it was a silly hoax; however, he was starting to understand it. Each kiss he shared with you before felt so rushed, but now, everything around him didn’t matter anymore. It was like every fear, every concern he had was lost as he was lost in the taste of your lips.

Your hands cupped his face, deepening the kiss and making Jaemin nearly forget that you were barely balancing on a basketball. He tightened his hold around you when you pulled a hand away to run through his hair and god, he relished that feeling. When he desperately needed air again, Jaemin pulled away, nipping at your bottom lip cheekily as he did so.

He didn’t want to see your reaction, though, so he pulled you down from the basketball and hugged you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You were visually overwhelming, anyway, and Jaemin wasn’t too keen on seeing your reaction to his tenderness. Jaemin felt like such a melt for being this affected over a simple kiss, but all he wanted at the moment was to be closer to you.

“Jaemin?” you asked, shocked by his sudden intimacy.

“Shut up,” he murmured into your neck, “I just want to hold you right now.”

“Bruh.”

Jaemin didn’t process the fact that a third person was in the gym until it registered that the masculine voice couldn’t have been coming from you. On the bright side, the voice came from the one person who knew about whatever was going on between you and Jaemin. He then wondered why he was starting to become an optimist.

You and Jaemin both pulled away quickly like repelling magnets. There was a flicker of panic in your eyes, seeming to cool down when you noticed that Jaemin wasn’t freaking out. It was quite devastating for Jaemin to come to realize that he was the standard for what to worry over.

Jaemin, not sparing you a glance, walked over to where his best friend was standing and shoved him, not straying from his direct route to the locker room.

“You have some explaining to do,” Jeno muttered before Jaemin passed him.

“Fuck off, Jeno.”

Jeno flashed a sheepish grin at you before turning back to follow Jaemin, patting him firmly on the back to tease him. Jaemin, however, was unsettled. Whatever he felt for you was moving past sexual attraction to something much deeper, and he wasn’t sure if he could suppress it any longer.

You truly were the cat, and although Jaemin refused to believe it, you had already caught him.

Jeno somehow managed to stay quiet about what had happened between you and Jaemin until after they reached their apartment. Jaemin almost believed he was going to pretend like he didn’t see anything, but it would be laughable to think that Lee Jeno wouldn’t mock him about it.

“That’s the thing with fuckbuddies,” Jeno explained as he shrugged off his coat, “someone’s gonna catch feelings eventually.”

“Thanks, Jeno,” Jaemin spat, tone laced with sarcasm. “You never cease to make me feel like shit.”

“So you admit that you caught feelings?”

It was like an arrow through a bullseye, not that Jaemin was going to admit to that, but the thought of him potentially catching feelings for you was terrifying. It was even more frightening because he probably already did. This was supposed to be the time where Jaemin blanched and would become shockingly avoidant around you, but he was waiting for those instincts to kick in rather than the desperate urge to run over and kiss you.

But, moreover, screw Lee Jeno for majoring in neuroscience. His best friend studying the human brain and its cognition was the worst thing that could have ever happened to Jaemin.

Jaemin paused, hesitating before he spoke, “No… I’m just worried that one of us will.”

Jeno raised a brow at him. “Whatever you two were doing was not normal for fuckbuddies.”

“It’s called hugging, Jeno. It’s not my fault you have the emotional range of a teaspoon.”

Jaemin moved to sit on the couch, turning his back to Jeno and hugging a pillow as he shrunk back into the cushion. But Jeno knew that Jaemin always listened to what he had to say. It was a natural instinct by now. Although Jaemin would rather die than say it aloud, his best friend always gave the best advice even though it was probably not what Jaemin wanted to hear.

“Are you okay?” Jeno asked instead.

Jaemin froze. He was never any good at expressing himself. He presented himself as a simple man on the outside, but he was really just layers of multitudes. But, sometimes, your mere attention was like uncut cocaine to him, and then Jaemin would wonder if he really was simple.

“I’m fine,” Jaemin muttered back.

“You’re good at being fine, aren’t you?”

Jeno fastidiously fixed his hair before he retreated to his room. Jaemin was surprised by how he cut the advice session this time and left Jaemin to his own thoughts.

Exhausted, Jaemin stared at his lock screen. It was a picture of you and him at a park. Ducks in the pond. You caught off-guard with hair in your mouth. Jaemin with a smile brighter than the sun. Who the fuck took selfies with girls they fucked on the down-low? And who the fuck set them as their wallpapers? Apparently, Jaemin did.

He was sick.

Maybe Jeno was right, but Jaemin refused to accept that possibility because that would make him even more disgusted with himself.

He could only think of one thing and it was how he was in love with you.

Sex was one thing, but love? The number one rule of best friendship was probably don’t fucking fall in love with your best friend’s sister.

Furthermore, Jaemin didn’t know how to act around you now. In the conspectus of Things That Could Go Wrong in his brain, he hadn’t anticipated actually falling for you. He should’ve taken your godsent looks and heavenly laugh as a red flag that first night because now he was addicted.

It wasn’t like Jaemin had absolutely zero experience with girls, but usually, he just went with it. Being the one chasing after you was mentally taxing and the thought of you possibly not wanting him back was unthinkable. Then again, it was pretty clear that it was mutual between the two of you, but Jaemin was confident that you were a breath away from snapping at him for his inconsistency.

He was the one that pushed you away, after all. A sudden transition from resisting to wanting you completely was sure to freak you out, so Jaemin was stuck at a crossroads.

After a few Google searches of asking the internet if he caught feelings and an episode of self-denial and self-loathing, Jaemin decided it was high time for him to call you and tell you how he felt. That, or he was going to panic and break things off before he got emotionally invested.

Before he could do either, Jeno walked back to the living room, putting his coat back on. He looked dressed up as if he was going out somewhere, and Jaemin’s suspicions were confirmed when he went to get his shoes.

“What’re you all dressed up for?” Jaemin asked, sitting up straight again.

“Jaehyun’s house.” Jeno raised a brow at him. “It’s Friday.”

God, if you’re out there, Jaemin thought, defeated. Screw you and your son. Amen.

Jaemin had to psych himself into the proper state of mind for tonight.

That all went to shit, however, when he saw you sitting in the living room, laughing at something Yuta had said.

“Oh my god,” Jeno said in a low voice when he saw Jaemin frozen in the doorway. “Tell me you’re not jealous right now.”

“Piss off,” Jaemin spat, kicking off his shoes at the entrance. “It’s nothing like that.”

Except that it was exactly like that. Jaemin wasn’t the jealous type, but right now, his blood was roiling in his gut. Deep inside, he knew it was probably nothing to worry about, but the way you smiled around Yuta was pissing him off. Then, he realized that he had no relationship with you that gave him any right to stop Yuta from flirting with you.

And then, you turned to see Jaemin in the doorway and smiled at him.

Oh no, Jaemin thought in complete devastation. She’s pretty.

“Y/N, tonight’s for the basketball team,” Jaehyun told you from the living room, making a motion with his hands to signal you to leave. “Go to your room.”

“You’re such a nosy older brother,” YangYang chimed in, nudging a chuckle out of Jaehyun. “But yeah, Y/N, Friday nights are for the boys.”

“I know, I know,” you said with a laugh. “I’ll go now. I was just grabbing some water.”

Jaemin was still frozen stiff at the doorway as you grabbed a half-empty bottle of water from the kitchen counter (despite Jeno’s several attempts to get him to move) and then walked to the staircase to Jaemin’s left. But then you grabbed Jaemin by the front of his shirt and started dragging him upstairs with you. He barely registered it all happening in the span of a few seconds, but he was able to catch Jeno saying he’d tell the others that Jaemin was running late.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” Jaemin whispered harshly, although he still followed you into your room and let you lock the door.

This was far too risky. Not only was Jaehyun home, but the entire basketball team was downstairs.

You started tying your hair up and Jaemin gulped, realizing where this was going. “Do you want me to suck you off or not?” you asked, smiling.

“Say no more,” Jaemin breathed out, unzipping his pants hastily.

He sat down on your bed, letting you tug his boxers down, your eyes full of mirth. Jaemin felt so pathetic when his cock twitched as soon as you wrapped a hand around its girth, but he was ready to put his pride to the side for once.

Jaemin was about to rasp out something but then you took his head in your mouth and a sudden wave of heat punched him in the gut. But then you pulled away, lips against the underside of his head, and Jaemin was a second away from just crying.

“You have nice hands,” you complimented with a mischievous smile as Jaemin held the back of your head eagerly. He felt like he was going crazy with the way you were mouthing your words against his cock.

“You have nice lips,” he returned through gritted teeth. “But please shut the fuck up and get to it already.”

Your lips curled slowly. “So impatient,” you cooed, tongue dragging along the underside of his cock. Jaemin bucked his hips forward, trying to chase the sensation, but you were teasing him.

“God, you’re gonna be the death of me, Y/N.”

You smirked up at him, moving your head to lick against the slit before taking his cock in your mouth again. A few laborious seconds passed with Jaemin biting his lip so that he didn’t make any noise, and then you finally started sucking him off. He fought the urge not to groan when your tongue rolled along the vein down his shaft.

You showed Jaemin no mercy, however. It was almost like you wanted everyone downstairs to hear. He gritted his teeth when your teeth grazed his cock, and he wanted more. He gripped your hair for anchorage and fucked into your mouth. The smallest whimper escaped you when Jaemin’s cock hit the back of your throat.

Jaemin let out a strangled groan. “I’m close.”

You took this as your cue to suck him off even harsher, and Jaemin was on the brink of sweet release. A tear escaped your eyes as he fucked into your throat, and Jaemin wiped it with his thumb, drinking in the wrecked sight of you that was bringing him over the edge. You let a broken moan vibrate against Jaemin’s shaft, and he was done for.

Jaemin couldn’t recall being able to cum this fast because of someone’s mouth before, but here he was, groaning as his hot seed shot down your throat. You obediently swallowed it, eyes hazy and tear-soaked from the size of him.

A few moments of silence passed before Jaemin leaned down and pecked your lips, heart fluttering a bit in his chest as he did so. “Good girl.”

He swore he saw you lifting a finger to scratch your cheek lightly, which was a nervous quirk of yours that Jaemin had picked up on, but you turned away quickly to fix your hair while Jaemin was pulling his pants back up. The tension that followed made Jaemin unsure of whether to leave or take you against the wall. He decided against the latter, knowing that Jeno couldn’t stall forever.

“Leaving already?” you asked, reaching for Jaemin’s hand, which he gladly entwined with yours.

“I’m already on thin ice,” Jaemin explained. “I have to go back down there and hope they don’t question me.” You moved closer to him, hands moving down to graze past his waistband. Jaemin hissed slightly under his breath and diverted by rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, so you and Yuta…”

“You’re still on that?” you asked, pulling your hands back. “I can’t laugh around another guy now?”

“No, no!” Jaemin groaned, tugging a hand through his hair out of frustration. “Nevermind, it’s nothing.”

“Is it not obvious, Jaemin?” you asked him, an edge of desperation to your voice. “You really can’t tell how I feel?”

Jaemin sighed, looking down at his feet. “You can’t tell how I feel either?”

“You—what?”

“We’ll talk later. I have to go.”

He turned to go back downstairs, but you grabbed his wrist, saying, “Jaemin, remember that you’re the one who didn’t want anything more out of this.”

Jaemin gave you a puzzled look but before he could ask for clarification, you had pulled away from him and gestured for him to leave. He mumbled a pathetic excuse, spitting out a string of words for a moment before he gave up and snuck downstairs as quietly as he could.

He hated that you were right. Even though you had suggested sneaking around, Jaemin was the one who tried to draw the boundary. He did this to himself.

“Yo, Jaemin,” Yuta called, “when did you get here?”

“Just now,” Jaemin answered, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked into the living room where all the basketball team members were sprawled over the couch. “What’re we watching?”

“Pulp Fiction,” Taeyong answered. “Can you get the ice cream from the kitchen?”

“Sure.” Jaemin opened Jaehyun’s freezer to see two tubs of ice cream nestled in the corner. While he was pondering over whether to grab chocolate or vanilla, he felt a presence behind him and looked over his shoulder. “Did you need—oh my god, go to your room,” he whispered harshly at the sight of you.

“Are you my mom?” You raised a brow at him and reached for an ice cream tub. “Let me help you open them.”

“Fine,” he mumbled, voice fracturing at the end. He watched you move to the kitchen’s island and, carefully eyeing his teammates in the living room, letting his hand graze your thigh and whispering, “Hey, I’m sorry for earlier.”

You stiffened at his touch. “It’s fine,” you whispered back, opening the tubs of ice cream. “You’ve just been acting weird lately.”

“Weird?” Jaemin asked as he opened his tub. The ice cream dripped off the lid and onto Jaemin’s finger. “Ugh. Do you have napkins?”

“You’re so messy, Jaemin.”

“Shut up.”

“Let me help,” you insisted, grabbing his wrist and taking his fingers in your mouth.

Jaemin’s eyes widened by a fraction as your hot tongue circled around his fingers. He fought down the urge to take it further and bit his lip as he watched you. Before he could do anything, however, an awkward laugh and wolf-whistle from the living room made him freeze.

Jaemin’s head shot up to see his teammates staring at him, shell-shocked. Some looked absolutely confused while others looked more proud and impressed. Jaemin wondered if you had no shame because, despite all the eyes on them, you didn’t let go of his hand, your pretty lips still wrapped around his fingers.

“I don’t know why she’s doing that,” Jaemin rambled quickly, and his tone was so frazzled that Jeno had to hide his laugh behind his fist. “Come on, Y/N,” he urged, voice dropping for you to hear. “Let go of my hand.”

It would have been sexy if Jaemin wasn’t absolutely terrified.

Only when Jaemin caught sight of Jaehyun’s expression did you let go, saying, “Thanks for the ice cream.” With a playful smile, you looked up at Jaemin expectantly.

“What the fuck did we just witness?” Jungwoo asked, lit up silly like he had just witnessed the biggest scandal.

“We’re friends,” Jaemin croaked out. “Right, Y/N? Jaehyun? Jeno?”

Jeno ducked his head and Jaemin could tell what exactly he was thinking: I can’t help you out of this one, Jaem.

Jaemin couldn’t exactly read Jaehyun’s expression. It was a mix of emotions so varied that they didn’t make sense to him. He couldn’t even pick out any distinguishable one, but maybe it was better he didn’t know what the captain was feeling.

“I swear, it's not what it looks like,” Jaemin defended.

“So Y/N wasn’t sucking on your fingers?” Taeyong asked, a ghost of a laugh on his lips.

“Okay, so it’s exactly what it looks like,” Jaemin muttered and pursed his lips together. “But it’s—it’s nothing,” he reasoned, and at this point, it seemed like he was trying to convince himself more than them.

Either way, it wasn’t working.

Who was he kidding, anyway? They weren’t stupid, and it was clear as day that Jaemin couldn’t get enough of you. For heaven's sake, he even got jealous over Yuta making you laugh. Before, one would have to pry open the cold, hard jaws of his corpse to get a word out about how he felt, but now Jaemin felt like you had broken down his last line of defense.

Jaemin could already see the consequences that would follow, but he still blurted out, “Fine. You got me. Jaehyun, I’m in love with your sister.”

Jaemin’s neurons were tearing themselves over the fact that Jaemin had just professed his love to you and was now experiencing a state of total humiliation. He was confident he wouldn’t ever live this moment down.

The room went silent. Not only were the boys shocked, but you were, too. Jaemin himself couldn’t believe he let that slip, but there was no going back now. Jeno sat there with his jaw hung open and Jaemin couldn’t blame him. He didn’t even know he was going to drop the love bomb like that out of nowhere. Taeyong looked like he had just witnessed a murder as his eyes kept darting between Jaemin and Jaehyun, Jungwoo looked a little too proud, and Yuta was just washed over with realization.

“Oh.” Jaehyun blinked. “Cool, I guess. Does that mean you’re not joining us for movie night then?”

Jaemin wasn’t sure how obvious the shock showed on his face, but this felt too easy. For a little over a month, Jaemin had been skirting around his relationship with you because of your big brother, and now he was acting scarily nonchalant.

“You’re not mad?” Jaemin asked, wide-eyed.

Jaehyun laughed. “I mean, it’s kinda weird that you’re dating my little sister, but why would I be mad?”

“Maybe it’s because you said ‘if anyone lays a hand on my little sister, then I will make sure you look uglier than you already are,’” Yuta reminded him with Jaemin nodding along at his words. “And that was verbatim.”

“That’s for people hitting on my sister to get laid, not people dating my sister,” Jaehyun corrected. “I don’t control her decisions.”

Jaemin smiled through the internal pain of realizing he did exactly that. If Jaehyun found out he wasn’t dating you, then Jaemin was in for an earful. Thankfully, you were too dazed over Jaemin’s earlier confession to decide to start shit.

“Plus,” Jaehyun continued, “I knew you guys had a thing.”

“What?” Jaemin spluttered, blinking wildly. His tongue was performing acrobatics to formulate words but it wasn’t working.

“I had a suspicion when you climbed up my tree to get into the house,” Jaehyun said. “When I walked into the room later, that just confirmed my suspicions because, you know…”

Jaemin’s cheeks went hot when he realized that Jaehyun had probably caught onto the fact that he had a boner back then. Without a word, you rushed out of the kitchen, gaze averted which was what Jaemin supposed was embarrassment. Jaemin heard the front door open and close. He turned to follow after you, but swallowed thickly and froze in place.

“Go, Jaemin,” Jeno urged him, a tone of seriousness taking over.

“Yeah, don’t sweat it,” YangYang said cooly. “It’s just movie night.”

Jaemin clenched his jaw and nodded, thinking about how shitty it would be if he did all of that just to be rejected. Jaehyun’s house was a warzone and he knew better than to come tonight, but he still did, and he still fucked everything up. If things went wrong with you—

“Jaemin,” Jaehyun cut into his thoughts, “just so you know, I’m cool with you dating my sister.”

It was funny how a few words could make someone’s day, but Jaemin was surprised at the weight those words took off of his shoulders. He contained the joy to a half-smile and left the kitchen and walked out of your house to find you.

You hadn’t gone far at all. You were pacing along the sidewalk looking frazzled, hands lacing together and eyes cast down. Jaemin walked over to you and tried to take your hand but you pulled away.

“Did you mean what you said?” you asked, overcome with raw emotion.

“Yeah,” Jaemin replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I know I’m the one who didn’t want to start anything, and I lied about not wanting anything, but… this is how I feel, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I’m not exactly expressive if you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve noticed,” you replied incredulously, lower lip starting to quiver. “I just—I don’t know—I thought I was just going to be an afterthought to you.”

Jaemin froze when he saw tears start to gloss your eyes. He never knew how to deal with people crying, especially when they were girls. He took your face in his hands and wiped your stray tears away with his thumbs, sighing softly.

“Let’s go to my place.”

“What? Why?”

“I need to show you how much I love you,” he replied firmly, taking your hand in his and walking in the direction of his apartment. “It’s kind of funny that you thought that because you’ve been all I could think about for the past month.”

More tears were starting to well up in your eyes, but you blinked them away.

Stay calm, Jaemin’s brain instructed him. Cupid can sense your fear.

“I love you,” he continued. “Should I say it again? I love you, I love you, I love—”

“Alright, Jaemin!” Your face beamed like a Christmas tree but you were still a flustered mess. “God, stop looking at me like that.”

“No,” he said, stopping in his tracks. “I’m going to keep saying it because I don’t think you get it.”

“Jaemin, we’re in the middle of the sidewalk,” you squeaked out as he kissed your cheek.

“I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss.

“J-Jaemin, I get it,” you whined out, scrunching your nose up at his affection. Jaemin continued, though, and you happened to reach your limit. You gripped his shoulders and held him away from you. “God, Jaemin, I love you, okay? You have to give me a chance to say it back at least.”

This time, Jaemin was the one to get shy. “Huh? You like me back?”

“Jaemin, you idiot, you’re so slow,” you mused, “I’ve liked you this entire time.”

He took your hand, his gaze never leaving yours, and rubbed your palm in circles with his thumb. “I know I’ve been a dick… on multiple occasions,” he admitted, “but I want to be with you.”

“Jaemin—”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked.

Jaemin wondered how many seconds passed after, but it felt like centuries to him. He didn’t budge, however, because he wanted you more than ever.

“Yes,” you finally confessed, which, in essence, was a fever dream in itself.

Jaemin expected his reaction to be different, but instead, his eyes wandered off, lost in thought. He looked toward the moon overlooking that hill where he nearly hooked up with you on the night of the party. That felt like eons ago despite being not that long ago, but it carried a comforting wave of nostalgia.

“You know, on second thought, we’re gonna stargaze.”

You looked at Jaemin like he was some undiscovered specimen, but you still followed him. He laid on his back, scrunching up his nose when the grass tickled his face, and he held his hand out to you. You took it, crouching down to lay down next to him. This time, Jaemin spread his arm out so that you could lay against his chest.

You cuddled up against his chest and Jaemin thought he could die a happy man.

He looked over at you, heart hammering against his ribcage like he was hopped up on ten energy drinks. The glow of the moon illuminated the gentle curves of your face and Jaemin didn’t realize he was kissing you until he realized he had tilted your face toward him and cupped your soft cheek. His whole body felt fuzzy when your hands rested on his chest, when he could taste your fruity chapstick.

It was kind of embarrassing how nervous Jaemin was getting. His hands were starting to sweat and he was feeling kiss-dazed, smiling like an idiot because your soft lips were everything. When he pulled away, he pecked your lips one last time, his eyes unable to leave your face.

He threw his pride to the wind and confessed, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your expression was priceless. Jaemin indulged in watching you become a stuttering, faltering mess in front of him, struggling for words that could come out coherently.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t call anyone beautiful over your dead body,” you managed.

“Well, you’re not anyone, are you?” Jaemin raised a brow “You’re Y/N.”

“You’re such a smooth talker sometimes,” you acknowledged, “you know, when you’re not completely malfunctioning.”

“Shh.” Jaemin pulled you closer. “Let me enjoy this.”

“Fine, but you’re making it up to me later for playing cat and mouse for a month.”

Jaemin scoffed. “Please, I was the mouse most of the time.”

A bubble of a laugh escaped your lips and you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend. “I’m really happy, you know?” you mumbled into his chest.

Jaemin kissed the top of your head, whispering a “yeah” into your hair. Maybe one day he’d admit that he was just as over-the-moon as you were, and maybe it would be coerced out of him hours later, but right now, under the starry night sky, he could only think about how lucky he was. It was funny, though, because now he could see the stars.

And they were so beautiful.

[bokuroskitten]

𝔅𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥

〈 you and kuroo have been together for years. Bokuto is his closest ally, so what happens when theres a breach.

† genre/pairing: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI Yakuza AU, Bokuto Koutarou x Fem!Reader.

† word count: 4.2k

† warnings: dubcon (corersion / power imbalance), pining, fingering (f!receiving), creampie, unproctected sex, aftercare if you squint, possessive behaviour.

❦ this lovely piece is for @sugawara-sweetheart decadence collab! I’m slipping in right before the due date hehe! Please check out all the other amazing pieces in collab. Also shoutout to @semisgroupie for beta reading this for me! Ily dee ❦ please let me know what you all think!

You can still remember it, the day Kuroo finally asked to be your boyfriend. Standing outside of the gym, still sweaty from practice. He had come all the way to Fukurodani Academy from his college in Tokyo just to make sure he caught you leaving the gym.

He had been so nervous, taking your hand into his and giving you that classic smirk you loved so dearly.

“I know you have a volleyball team to run, but do you think you have time for a boyfriend too?”

You had been together ever since, even when you graduated, even when Kuroo had to drop out to take over for his father, even when you discovered his father ran a large chunk of the Japanese Yakuza’s underground division.

Kuroo had always been careful, he never brought that life home to you. You were his angel, his precious kitten. Whatever hardships, shady dealings, and dangerous activity he had to do was kept away from home. Away from you at any and all costs.

His job and his life with you was kept separate, for your safety mostly. He has enemies on the other side that would do anything to get their hands on the great Kuroo Tetsuro’s little fiancé and that alone was enough for Kuroo to keep you safe, hidden, and protected with the help of his closest allies.

Which consisted of Bokuto Koutarou. You were already well acquainted with the silver owl, considering the two of you had gone to the same high school. Bokuto had gone into the Yakuza around the same time Kuroo did, easily making a name for himself so his father could enjoy the rest of his life without crime attached to his name. Kuroo and Bokuto stayed close, and got even closer when they had to step into this lifestyle.

Allies were important to have, Kuroo and Bokuto knew this and used their long term friendship to their advantage. Bokuto was one of the only people who knew exactly who you were, your true identity and your relationship to Kuroo. He was to look after you if Kuroo had any “business trips” or had to suddenly leave for “meetings.” Kuroo trusted him to keep you safe, and Bokuto promised to do just that.

What Bokuto hadn’t expected was to fall for you.

He had always seen you like a cute underclassman, always trying your hardest to make everyone happy. Never once did he think he’d start to notice the way your hips swayed when you walked, or how plump your lips were when you applied lip gloss.

It had to be your fault. Maybe you were doing this all on purpose. Bokuto knew himself, and he knew he wasn’t the type of person to fall for his best friend's fiance. So that means it had to be you, maybe you were trying to get his attention when you wore those pretty skirts, maybe you were trying to pull him in when you batted your lashes at him.

Bokuto couldn’t take it anymore, not when he started staring at you a little longer than he should, not when he started to get hard in your presence. Especially not when he started to fuck his fist late at night, hips humping wildly into his palm as your name vibrated off his lips.

So he decided to do something about it. The opportunity presented itself when Kuroo called him up, told him he had some last-minute business to attend to and if he could stay the night with you just in case. Of course, Bokuto agreed, reassuring him that you would be completely safe with him.

So that’s how the two of you ended up here, on the couch late into the evening. You were already dozing off, nuzzling your face into a pillow while your legs laid across Bokuto’s lap. Although a movie had been playing, his amber eyes were locked on your legs. He ate up the surface of your skin, eyes lingering until they landed on your crotch which was currently covered in a pair of satin red pajama bottoms.

The ones Kuroo had bought you for your last anniversary.

Bokuto could feel his heart picking up in speed as he smoothed his palm over your leg. Which had been resting on your knee, but he moved it up, rubbing soft circles into your thigh. You stirred a bit, a yawn slipping past your lips.

“Bo, m’sleepy, gunna go to bed.”

He felt his chest tighten, along with the grip he had on your thigh. It made you squirm.

“Don’t go just yet Birdy. Stay up a little longer, yea? We can watch whatever you want.”

“I won’t stay awake.” You rebuttal, attempting to pull your legs away from Bokuto’s lap.

He worked quickly, deciding on tickling your leg. You jolted from the suddenness of the attack, giggles and whines leaving your lips in streams as Bokuto persisted. He worked his way over you, fingers travelling up your sides and continuing the tickling until his hands found your hips.

Your eyes were sparkling with tears when he finally finished the onslaught, chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. That task only seemed more complicated when Bokuto’s large palms pressed your hips further into the couch, his much larger figure looming over you.

In the dimness of the living room, his eyes looked different. Lit up by only the subtle glow of the tv. His pupils were blown out, darting between you and your chest. You suddenly became very aware of his piercing gaze, clearing your throat which made his eyes shoot back up to meet yours.

“Koutarou… is something wrong?”

Bokuto had to hold back a moan at the sweet sound of your pretty little voice. Koutarou. His first name so easily slips off your tongue as if you already belong to him. The scar on the corner of his lip twitched when he grinned down at you.

Before you could ask him again his lips were on yours, smothering any words that threatened to question him again. Your eyes widened, shock and confusion and an odd sense of warmth filling your stomach.

You did the first thing that came to mind, you squirmed, whimpered beneath him.

Wrong. This is all wrong. Bokuto was your senpai, a friend, an ally.

What if Kuroo came home?

“B-Bo--” you managed to squeak out when his lips finally left your own, only to begin pressing wet kisses along your jaw, down your chin. Everything was suddenly a little hazy, and you couldn’t tell whether this sensation was fear or something else.

Something that you had only felt for Kuroo for as long as you could remember.

You snapped back into reality when his lips got dangerously close to your chest, lips threatening to pass the hem of the satin neckline. You yelped, fingers going into Bokuto’s hair and giving a harsh tug.

“B-Bokuto! What are--”

“Birdy--” There was a growl in his tone, one that made your fingertips go numb and your breath caught in your throat.

When he looked back at you he didn’t quite look like himself. This is what you pictured Bokuto looked like on the job. Eyes cold, lips held in a stern line. Not a single speckle of that sparkling gold that his orbs usually held. No traces of a grin that his lips usually graced.

This was Bokuto Koutaruo, a businessman, a potential threat, a possible killer.

“Birdy.” He repeated again, softer this time. He must have felt the way you tensed, the way you sunk further into the couch beneath him. He brought his face close to yours once again and to his displeasure you let out a soft whimper.

“Don’t be scared of me baby, I’d never hurt you…”

“But--”

“But what, pretty, what's the matter, hm? Don’t you want me to show you how much I care about you… don’t you wanna feel special…”

His words were slightly slurred, or so they seemed in your head. His tongue was against your ear, tracing along your earlobe as his warm breath fanned against your skin.

It was a familiar scent, bubblegum. Bokuto’s favourite. It seemed too sweet so close to your nose.

His hands smoothed up your sides, thumbs just inches away from slipping up your tank top and it had goosebumps forming all along your skin.

Wrong.

“We can’t.” You muttered, voice sounding much weaker than you wanted it to when Bokuto pressed another kiss behind your ear.

“Why not?” He was relentless, one knee slowly wedging itself between your thighs despite the way you were squirming.

“Kuroo--”

“Kuroo wants me to take care of you Birdy, and I’m doing just that, aren’t I?” You yelped softly when his teeth suddenly sunk into the flesh of your collarbone. When had he moved down so much? Why hadn’t you noticed his sliver spikes tickling your chin or the way his palms had begun to slide the silky material up your skin.

“I’m taking care of you by makin’ you feel good…”

“But--”

“Kuroo’s gonna be happy…” Bokuto continues, his words suddenly sound distant, your body unbelievably hot as his lips find the tops of your breasts. “His pretty kitty is gonna feel safe and pleased when he gets home…”

Your fingers were no longer lost in Bokuto’s hair, rather they were held loosely above your head, one of his big palms keeping them anchored there as he lifted himself.

You whined, the sudden loss of contact making goosebumps rise along your flesh.

Bokuto had a hard time keeping his grin to himself. Your lips were in a small pout, body squirming, eyes holding a little bit of confusion but most of all.

Desire.

He would get you there. He would hear it.

“I want you Koutaruo .”

“Your heart’s beating really fast.” Bokuto’s voice was low, nothing more than a whisper behind the static of the tv. It made a lump form in your chest.

Your chest tightened the further he pulled away from you. You weren’t exactly sure what you wanted, but you knew you didn’t want him to leave.

“Koutarou.”

There it was.

He leaned back in, his large palm sliding away from your wrists and down your arm instead. All the way down until he cupped your cheek in a large palm. His thumb swiped along your bottom lip.

He had to hold back a groan when your lips opened up just a sliver when your tongue threatened to touch his thumb.

“Let me take care of you, Birdy.”

“Will Kuroo really be okay with it?”

Your voice shook, soft and sweet and oh so innocent. Naive. Adorable.

Bokuto couldn’t wait to have you all to himself. Clearly, Kuroo hadn’t taught you well enough. But Bokuto would, he would teach you to stay away from guys like him.

“Course he will, baby, he always wants what's best for you, isn't that right?”

All you had to do was nod. A gentle, subtle nod. And Bokuto’s lips were back on yours. It was a deep kiss, pressed tightly to your lips and suppressing any chance of denial. Your fingers were back in his hair, but you didn’t tug this time.

Rather you just ran your fingers through silver locks. A bit stiff from the gel, and yet so very soft.

Soft like Kuroo’s.

“Spread your legs, angel.” That dizzy feeling was back when Bokuto’s words vibrated against your lips. Your legs spread open despite your confusion. They were commanded, working on their own.

Working because of the strings Bokuto has somehow placed on them.

“Good girl.” You shivered. That’s what Kuroo always called you.

Was it him speaking to you?

Bokuto was holding back a groan. He should have felt sick to his stomach, looking down at you between his legs with teary eyes and a slightly confused expression. He should have been thinking of Kuroo, his best friend, ally.

But instead, he just felt himself harden, licking along his lower lip and bringing his large palm to cup your sex. You were so warm, even through the fabric of your shorts.

He rubbed it, slow and soft, his eyes widening as he watched you, twitching and whimpering. You were already becoming so pliant, hips rubbing back into his palm. The longer it went on, the warmer you got.

He was so excited to split you open.

“Tell me what you want.” Bokuto looked into your eyes, waited. He knew the words were there on the tip of your tongue.

“C-Can you…” It was so cute, hearing you stutter over yourself despite the way you shamelessly pressed into his hand.

“Can you touch me, Kou...”

Finally he released his groan, loud and guttural. He moved his hands only a moment, just long enough to grip the hem of your shorts. In one swoop they were off your trembling thighs, discarded on the floor.

You were even more beautiful than Bokuto had imagined, one palm covering your flustered face while your thighs glistened in the dim glow of the tv. And there was your cunt, folds slightly swollen and shiny with your desire.

He would have taken a picture if he could have but that could be saved for another time.

“You’re so pretty baby, you’ve got the perfect little cunt.” Bokuto said with one of his signature grins, the ones that used to make your heart flutter back in high school when he would score a point.

His fingers were gentle, rubbing one large strip along your slit. Slowly he split open your lips, holding back the urge to drool. There was your perfect hole, fluttering around nothing.

Basically beckoning him.

“S-Stop staring Kou…” your voice was so whiny, so soft as you looked at him through tear clumped lashes. He hushed you softly, one palm on your cheek so he could have a better view of your face.

He just had to see what you looked like when he finally pressed inside.

“Can’t help it Birdy, you’re just so beautiful…” His thumb pushed past your bottom lip at the same time he pressed two thick fingers into your pussy. Your gasp was adorable, lips quickly latching onto his thumb to hide the whines.

His fingers alone were enough to cause a slight burn, the stretch feeling so much different than the one Kuroo could provide for you. It made you press your hips into his touch, your trembling fingers gripping his wrist with desperation.

Bokuto bit his lip, slowly pumping his fingers in and out. He would push all the way in until he reached his knuckles, allowing the cold surface of his rings to make you yelp every time before pulling out to just his fingertips.

He kept this pace until your hips began to match it, your adorable little body humping along his fingers as you tried your very best to keep yourself quiet.

Bokuto didn’t want that though. He wanted to hear you, needed to hear his name spilling off your lips. So he pulled his thumb from your mouth, gave your bottom lip a little tug as an act of encouragement.

“Feels good baby? Tell me how it feels?”

“F-Feels.” You were still stumbling over yourself. So cute. “Feels good…”

“Yea? I can tell, your pussy is swallowing me up.”

He chuckled when embarrassment flashed over your face, but before you could hide your face from him yet again he pressed the pad of his thumb to your clit. The action had you gasping, back lifting slightly off the mattress.

“That’s it…” Bokuto murmured, gaze locked on your face, how it scrunched up and twisted so pretty as the pleasure took over you. Your cunt squeezed around his fingers, an indication for him to add just one more.

“S’too much~” you tried whimpering at him, but Bokuto brushed it off with a couple of quick kisses to your lips. He had to prep you anyway, his cock was already threatening to rip through his pants.

When your voice heightened in pitch Bokuto picked up his pace. He brought his face close to your pussy, allowing his hot breath to fan over it. That had you grasping the cushions for dear life, a string of pleas leaving your lips.

“Want you to come on my fingers now Birdy. You can do it. It’ll feel so good. Be a good girl and cum.”

Your body reacted for you, lips hung open in a silent scream as his fingertips focused on that spongy spot within you. With a couple more tight circles into your clit you fell apart, walls clenching before gushing around his fingers.

Bokuto’s pupils blew out at the sight, nothing but primal desire flooding his system as he watched your arousal drown out his fingers. It wet his knuckles, coated his rings as he ever so slowly pulled his fingers free. The slick pop had both of you groaning softly, and he couldn’t help but watch as he spread his fingers apart to find strings of your arousal keeping them together.

He had to have a taste and refused to continue the evening without it. So he sucked his fingers into his mouth. His moan was nothing short of obscene, making sure he licked off every ounce of your essence.

You were panting as you watched him, eyes still tear glazed and body tingling as it came down from the high. When he finally noticed you staring he grinned.

But this time it was different. Not the scoring high school Bokuto, or the Bokuto who would flash this grin when he had a little too much to drink

This was different. Darker, carnal. It made a shiver travel all the way up your spine.

And yet you still didn’t say no when he told you to take your tank top off, didn’t say no when he pulled off his own black button up, back muscles rippling in the dim lighting as he pulled you into his lap.

And you definitely couldn’t say no to him when he pulled his cock free, the sheer length and girth making you whine.

He was so much bigger than Kuroo. Thicker, wider, maybe even longer.

“Shh Birdy, hold on tight. It’s only gonna hurt for a few seconds. Then I’m gonna make you feel so very good.” His reassurance puts you at ease. Kuroo had done the same for you, way back when the two of you first slept together.

Would Kuroo really be okay with this--

The gasp that was ripped from your throat made Bokuto that much more excited. Just his tip had pushed past the first ring of muscles and already there were tears in your eyes, nails digging into his shoulders at the stretch he provided.

“K-Kou, can’t, I can’t”

“Shh birdy. Remember I’m gonna make you feel good, promise.” And he really did want to make you feel good but fuck, with the way your pussy already clenched around his tip, threatened to suffocate him as he pressed in inch by inch, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his cool.

You were already creaming when he finally bottomed out, your legs wobbly when they tightened around him. Bokuto couldn’t tear his gaze from his lap, where he stretched out your sweet cunt. It was already drooling, swollen from just being split open by him.

Absent-mindedly he trailed his fingers over your tummy, fingers cursorily tracing the bulge he was able to form there.

There’s no way Kuroo filled you up this good, Bokuto knew that for certain.

“P-Please.” Your voice snapped Bokuto back to reality, the whine in your tone enough to make his dick twitch inside you. “M-Move Kou, need you.”

He sighed. Of course you needed him.

With his palms firmly grasping your hips he pulled you up his cock, just enough that the tip was still edged inside before he began to fuck you on himself. His arm muscles rippled with each push and pull, his hips thrust upwards every time he pushed you back down in order to help with the momentum.

You were gripping onto him so tightly, leaving red streaks along his shoulder blades. Your moans were sweet, sweet music, filling up the empty space with nothing but babbles and cries of his name.

There was still a part of him that looked at you with disappointment, a part of him that screamed how wrong this was, a part of him that knew if Kuroo walked through the doors right now you’d probably both be dead.

But when you looked at him with a tear streaked face, lips hung in a silent cry, skin rippling due to his relentless thrusts, how could he stop himself?

He was even more thrilled when your nails dug into his skin, along his back and shoulders, even along his forearms and pecks. “That’s it Birdy, you’re doin’ so well, takin’ my cock like this.”

The wet slapping sounds soon filled up the room, along with the moans and whimpers the both of you released. With a grunt, Bokuto had your back against the cushions once more, just so he could thrust within your tight cunt harder, faster.

Anything to feel you coming around him, to feel your walls squeeze him. It was everything he knew it would be, better even.

And he knew, Kuroo couldn’t make you feel this way, no way in hell could he even compare.

You had planned to ask him to pull out. No one had ever come inside you before, except Kuroo of course. It was his way of marking you, the subtle possessiveness always coming through when he would fill you to the brim and then plug you up.

But now, as Bokuto drilled into you, showered you with praises and sweet groans you lost all thought. All you thought of was the sweet sting, the stretch his cock could provide. The way he was able to smack into your sweet spot with every thrust.

So when he grunted out a “gonna cum.” you couldn’t find the words to stop him, rather you just let your eye roll back, let out a sweet cry when one of his calloused thumbs pressed into your clit.

Bokuto’s hips smacked into you once, twice more, before his balls twitched and his load filled you up. Rope after rope of warm cum spilled into you, one last strand being milked from him as you clenched up around him, finishing only seconds after he did.

His arms were around you, holding your trembling form so tightly to his chest. He had to look though, had to see exactly what it looked like when you were filled to the brim. So he pulled up just a little bit, moaned out loud at the sight of his cock, how when he slowly pulled it out it was covered in a layer of milky slick.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful…” He murmured, fingers scooping up the beads of arousal dripping from your used hole, only to push them back in.

He didn’t want a single drop wasted.

You were finally starting to come down from the high when Bokuto lifted his weight from you, the loss of contact making you shudder. In your right mind you could have covered up, but instead, you stayed sprawled out, lips tilted into a dumb little smile.

“K-Kou…” You murmured to him, making him look down at you as he stretched out, wincing from the marks you left that managed to break skin.

“Kuroo is gonna be so happy, you took great care of me…” Bokuto hummed, his smirk growing. He was so lucky, so lucky you were so sweet and naive.

He scooped you up then, carrying you bridal style up the stairs. As much as he would have loved to leave you there on the couch, a nice mess for Kuroo to come home to, he had to play it safe. He made sure to clean you up properly, tuck you into bed with fresh and clean clothes.

Bokuto couldn’t lose his closest ally just yet. So until then--

“I’ll make sure Tetsu knows. But you baby, I want you to keep it our secret okay? Can you do that for me?”

That sat funny with you, made your stomach tighten, just how it had at the beginning of the evening. You wanted to question him, ask why you couldn’t be a part of the discussion.

But when Bokuto loomed over you once more, one of his much larger palms easing itself over your neck, you were reminded yet again. Reminded of Bokuto and his power, his power over you.

And now over Kuroo.

“It's our secret. Remember that Birdy. Kuroo has always kept you in a cage, away from the world so others couldn’t hurt you, isn’t that right? Well now I’m going to do the same, keep you in a cage of my own, just the two of us…”

❦ @hqintheclub {check out the network}

❦ all rights reserved to bokuroskitten©

[memes-saved-me]

Billy Hargrove and implied Queerness

First off this is focusing on his scenes without Steve because we've all seen those and....they're pretty homoerotic to say the least so I will be bringing your attention to the other factors which lead people to believe Billy is gay or interested in men and not so much women. This isn't very indepth but more surface level observations I've made and seen others make.

(TW: Homophobia and slurs discussed)

Season 2

The first scene we get of Billy he is instantly sexualised by those around him. Tina and Vicki taking interest in him based on his looks while Carol watches on rather unamused. This sets a trend for his character and his relationship with his looks and body, but more importantly how he uses it to his own advantage. Of course this was done to play into the 80s bad boy who all the high school girls fall for but what I'll explain later makes it much more interesting.

The next we see of Billy is with Max on their way home. During this scene he insults the looks of the high school girls, referring to them as cows. We then get a very interesting line "Yeah, we're stuck here and who's fault is that?" Which Max replies to with "Yours."

A response that instantly angers Billy to the point he demands she take responsibility for moving to Hawkins. A topic that has clearly been discussed before because Max's reaction implies this has happened before if not multiple times.

In Runaway Max, which isn't confirmed canon and contradicts a lot of stuff but, we are told that the reason they moved was because Billy was completely off the rails to the point he broke her friends arm. Now. Does that make sense in blaming who's fault the move was? If this is the case it is obviously Billy's fault so why does he keep saying it was her who caused this? She clearly liked being in California so why would she do something to make them move. Unless it was unintentional...

This heavily implies that there is an unspoken incident which involves them both. An incident which triggers such anger and recklessness in Billy to the point he almost runs over Mike, Lucas and Dustin because Max wouldn't say it was her fault. Many have then filled in this gap with Max accidentally telling either Neil or Susan about Billy and another boy, which would make sense with the information or lack of information we are given in canon about the reason they moved.

While at Tina's Halloween party we do not see Billy interact with a single girl. He is seen with Tommy and another boy who then approach Steve with him. It would make sense for girls to be drooling over him in this moment, trying to dance with him or following him inside but no. He makes a beeline for Steve and we do not see him for the rest of the party.

Now, I don't know about you but have you ever seen a teenage boy look less interested in his date? Not only is he not interacting with verbally but also physically. He then gets angry when she calls Max his sister and they drive off without a word. It's implied he is taking her home as he they were waiting for Max, meaning he was probably going to hook up with her but if he was wouldn't he act just a little nicer towards her?

I mentioned before that he is the archetype for 80s bad boy and the girls sure are falling, he just isn't catching them. This is the only time we see him interact with a women his age in a romantic way. If you could call this romantic at all.

When in trouble for letting Max run off while watching her, his response is that he doesn't have the time to go looking for her because he has a date, a date we never see or get the name of, this prompts his father to say the line "So that's why you've been staring at yourself in the mirror like some faggot..."

A line that then prompts Billy to snap and argue back after clearly wanting to get out of this situation as fast and smoothly as possible. Where else have we seen anger brought on by a topic? That's right in the car with Max. There is a trend of Billy reacting with anger to conversations or comments he finds personal or as some sort of attack. This is also when Neil becomes fully angry with Billy as seen in his rather shocked reaction at his response to that line.

This also continues the trend of Billy caring about his looks and using them as a shield of sorts, a shield that doesn't work against his father but everyone else he encounters.

Something to keep in mind, Billy is the only character to be called a homophobic slur by a parental figure other than Will. The character he mirrors in multiple ways including having the same full name William, as well as Will being heavily implied as gay or queer. Both of their father's use homophobic language against them, unlike any of the other characters in the show.

The next we see of him after the incident with Neil is also when we see him interacting with another women in a romantic sense. Karen. This is where his use of his looks and body fully come into play. He uses these assets to get information and affection out of Karen to make his father happy and avoid further punishment.

Now this is my own interpretation but Billy is used to using his body for positive attention and doesn't get that any other way. At no point in the series is he treated like a person other than in S3 by Max and Max only. Everyone else views him in an objectified manner or as a bad guy to avoid.

There is a clear resemblance between Karen and Billy's mother which I'll further discuss in the season 3 section but this leads me to believe he is subconsciously or even consciously wanting positive attention from a motherly figure, he just doesn't know any other way to achieve that.

However, it is very clear that flirting with Karen was an act as seen by the quite jarring juxtaposition of these two frames. The mask fully gone once by himself again. Meaning the only time we see him flirt with a women it isn't genuine at all.

Season 3

Now, continuing off the last point, there is countless girls practically drooling over Billy at the pool but he only accepts this attention from Karen. This exemplifies my theory that he doesn't know how to gain positive affection other than through flirting and well sex, but he only wants this attention from an older women who resembles his mother. Except, again he doesn't know any other way of gaining it. He hasn't had a strong positive female influence in his life since he was 10 years old and by the looks of it every motherly figure has treated him as eye candy and not a teenager crying for help.

He has Heather who is very much his age and flirts with him. Yet, he acts as if she isn't even there and goes straight over to Karen to flirt. The way he acts with Karen should be the way he would act with girls his age, flirting and making advances but we do not see a single example of this.

This part I find extremely interesting because it perfectly mirrors his interaction with Karen in season 2, except instead of dropping the mask he puts it on. The way he looks to his right as if she is sitting there as he practices what he is going to say to her is a clear example of his act coming into play as he prepares to meet up with her. His expression very similar to when he leaves the Wheeler home but it shifts to practice the way he is planning on talking to Karen. A complete reversal from their scene in season 2.

A rather reaching piece of symbolism could be that this also mirrors the way Neil cuts off Billy's date in season 2 as the Mindflayer is a literal representation of him being controlled by his father.

I also find it very interesting that he chooses to flirt with Karen very publicly and this might be reading a little too into it but it comes off as trying to uphold some sort of image. Another example of this is Max saying she hears Billy with girls in his room, something that sure is something he would do but when you put this with everything in this post it also comes off as him trying to prove something.

Another thing I find interesting is the way he acts around Karen, all smiles and friendly is very similar to that of the way he acts at dinner with Heather's parents. An act put on by the Mindflayer, just as he does when flirting with Karen. A mask used for underlying means and not what it shows on the surface.

Conclusion

This is all just my observation and he is not canonically gay or queer but the way he acts around women compared to Steve is a very interesting aspect to his character. If they truly intended for him to be this bad boy ladies man then they failed at presenting that.

One final thing, which I have posted about before is the fact Billy does not use homophobic language towards anyone. Even Steve does in season 1 so it would make sense for a teenage boy trying to upstage another teenage boy to use slurs and such to belittle and bully him. Except he doesn't.

I could write a full dissertation on Billy's implied queerness but a unorganised Tumblr post will have to do. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

[hobbitsnapes]

YOU GUYS ARE DATING

Corpse x MGK!sister reader

(Found this image on Pinterest so all credit goes to artist, if you know who it is please comment below so I can credit them)

A/N: this was requested by @heyitssab

Tree is tall of sex in this, but it’s more in a joking matter, plus corpse has stated he doesn’t mind as long as you are not a minor or send or tag him. I’m literally 2 years younger than him, and have no intentions of ever tagging him or sending him any of my work XD

Summary: how many idiots does it take to tell the brother and friend they’re dating? Apparently takes 2 very forgetful people, who kept their relationship secret without knowing it.

It had just been by chance, a small chance that he had been scrolling through his tags. liking and reposting art, when he saw a tag from someone he followed. He wrecked his brain for when he had followed her, coming up empty. She was cute, no denying the beauty she had as she laughed in the video. It was a clip from a stream that he didn’t know she had, as he couldn’t even remember her name, wearing his merch as it fit her snug. It fit her perfectly in fact, the large hood covering her face, hiding the flush to her face from her rather large chuckles that left her body. He couldn’t help but like the photo, and he couldn’t help but to press message either.

It was first only small likes to posts, an Occasional message, and a view on their livestreams, but that all changed when he spoke of the song he was working on with her older brother.

It all started that night, when both lay in their beds as they talked, laughed, and felt their hearts flutter each time they heard one another speak.

Her phone rang violently in her bag, nearly making her drop the to go bag all over the ground as she walked. “Hello?” She asked, as she held both bags with her hands as her shoulder gripped the phone as if it’d fall down a cliff. “Hey bug!” He exclaimed, making her chuckle as she heard the booming sound of his voice. She had always detested the nickname, as he gave it to her as kids due to her horrendous fear of the creatures. But, it brought more joy to her, as it reminded her of their youth. Having been adults for years, it was fun to hear such a childish name that’s stuck.

“Hey mopey.” She chuckled, as that was the name she gave him when he was in his emo phase that he never outgrew.

Both talked as she walked towards the elevator, mainly about how his day had gone as she silently listened.

She had always been this way, always the shyer of the two, the one to listen to others first before she said a word. He had teased her for it most of their childhood and teen life, but he had grown to love it, as he could let loose or rant to her about anything, and he knew she’d be there just to listen to him.

“So what’re you doing right now?” He asked, as she got into the elevator. “Just grabbed some dinner a few minutes before you called and nearly made me shit.” A smile painted on her face at his boisterous laughter.

“Are you at home?” He asked, as he heard the sound of the elevator beeping in the background. “No, I’m spending the night with my boyfriend.”

She had mentioned about a month prior that she was seeing someone, the joy it brought him to hear the excitement and joy in her tone as she gushed about their first date.

If this was 7 or 8 years prior, he would be bombarding her with questions about the man, who he was, where he lived, where he could meet him to find his intentions with his baby sister. But, in the last few years, he found himself feeling calmer whenever she’d mentioned her love life. He knew she was smart, and would never date a man who treated her poorly. The few breakups she had, they always ended amicably, her head still high as she told him. So, he never asked her any questions about the man, as he could tell from the few times she mentioned him, he could feel the love this man had for her, and Vice versa.

The strong barreling of her phone alerted them awake, both groaning out as she reached for her phone without lifting her head from his shoulder. “Hello?” She mumbled, voice slurred as the saliva was thick in her mouth, barely awake as she fought to listen in on who dares to wake them up.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, making her equally exhausted lover groan. She shifted off of him, laying on her back as he turned away from her, as to hopefully shut his eyes and fall back asleep. She was used to her brother's large voice, as it hardly phased her after growing up with him. “Colson, why are you calling me this ungodly hour?” “Oh come on, it’s not that early.” “Col its-“ She pulled her phone from her ear, eyes shutting violently as the bright light blinded her “5 o’clock in the morning. So again, I’m going to ask you, why did you call me at the asscrack of dawn?” “You don’t remember?” He asked, making her irritation grow. “No, that’s why I’m asking.” She says, as she rubbed her sleep crusted eyes. “You were coming up today to hang out with casie, remember?” Her hand stopped rubbing her face, as she felt her heart stop momentarily. “Wait, you mean today? I thought I was coming Friday?” “No, both of you settled on today, remember I told you that’s perfect because I have a day off?” She felt her heart pain as she heard the sadness in his tone, knowing he’s expecting her to bail. “Yeah sorry, I thought you meant Friday so I mixed it up, let me get ready and I’ll be out the door okay? Love you” she said, as she hung up the line.

Before she could even move, she felt his arm wrap around her body. A tired groan leaving his lips. “Nooo stayyyy.” He groaned, pulling her body to his. She smiled as she looked down at him, wrapping her arm on his chest and the other behind his neck. “I wish I could live, but I can’t.” Planting a soft kiss against his lips. “Stay in bed for a few more hours, please?” Her heart pulled at his tone, hearing just how tired he was. “I can’t, casies wanted me to come up for weeks now. And it takes a good 3 hours to get there. I wanna spend as much time as I can with them before it gets dark so I can get back safely.” He groaned at this, wrapping his arms around her. “Yeah but it’s only 5, it wouldn’t be safe to drive since we went to bed like, 2 hours ago.” “Yeah, and whos fault was that mister?” She teased, “hmm, sorry but I just couldn’t keep my hands to myself after not seeing you for a few days.” He mused, pulling her body closer to his, planting his lips against hers. A small hum left her lips as he pulled her thigh over his, grabbing the flesh harshly as their lips cascaded together. “Mm, no no no, you’re not gonna convince me to stay here just to go another round.” She said, as she got off from his warm body, throwing his large hoodie over her bare body. “Oh come on babe, are you sure about that?” He said, making her turn around to him. A small gasp left her lips as her eyes took in his milky white complexion. His honey brown eyes looking back at her with a small smile etched onto his face. His hair a tousled mess that resembled a bird's nest, some pieces falling onto his face. “Honey, I’ve been wanting to see my family for weeks now, I see you almost everyday and practically live here. I’ll be back tomorrow so I can grab more clothes from my place okay?” She placed a kiss to his lips, both holding one another in their arms. “I don’t know why you don’t just say fuck that place and just move in.” He mumbled, making her chuckle and heart warm. “Don't you think it’s a little soon though? I mean we’ve only been together a few months love.” “Yeah, but you’ve practically lived here since we got together, you literally just go there to get more clothes that you end up leaving here.” She looked into his eyes as she thought about his words. “Hm, I’ll think about it today okay?” She mused, planting a kiss to his lips. A soft okay leaving him as she got up.

“And babe, remember if you live here, we can have all the sex we want and not have to worry about driving to get one another.” He exclaimed, laughing at the loud honey she screamed from the bathroom.

She couldn’t help but laugh out as she watched, as her niece tried her hardest to braid her fathers grown out hair. It was near impossible not to, as pieces would fall out, resulting in her pulling them harsher, nearly pulling his eyelids back due to the tension from his temples. “Okay okay you’re gonna fuckin scalp me.” He chuckled , as all three bursted out in large laughter.

“So how’s school going this year?” She asked her, as she delicately painted her nails. Both of the girls had found themselves on the floor in front of the nice coffee table, as colson sat and chatted with them. “It’s going really well.” “Oh yeah? Make any new friends?” She teased. “I mean, kinda.” She couldn’t help but hear the wavering in her tone, spotting the faint blush dusting her skin. “Ohh, so there’s a someone eh?” She teased to her, making the preteen hide her face as to conceal the flush. “His names Garrett, and we both take social studies together. He always sits next to me at lunch, and we’ll draw on my notebook.” She gushed, making her smile. “Soo, do you think he likes you?” “I mean, that’s what everyone keeps saying.” “Yeah well don’t worry about it to much cas, you’re not dating anyone for many more years. You’re still a kid.” Her das said, making the young girls face fall.

Y/N knew he was only saying this to protect her, as he said the same thing to her growing up. “Hey, don’t be bummed out about it. He is right, you both are only 12 and should focus on school. But don’t worry, he’ll come around. He was just like that with me up until my current boyfriend.” She whispered, making the young girl chuckle.

“Speaking of which, how are you guys doing?” He asked, as she hadn’t mentioned hun to her in a while. He didn’t think it’d hurt to ask. “Great actually, we’re thinking of moving in together actually.” “That’s great! I’m really happy that y’all met.” “Yeah, I am too.” She hummed, a flush dusting her cheeks.

Both men laughed as they chatted on the phone, talking about anything that would come to mind. What was once only a collaboration for a song, turned into an amazing friendship that caused both of them to call at late hours just to shoot the shit.

A yawn left his lips, as he listened to colson ramble on about another song he was making. “Woah, you tired man?” Colson asked, shocked to hear the sound. “Yeah sorry, was up most of the night last night.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Were you feeling alright?” He asked, worry laced in his tone. He knew all about his friends illnesses, even once being on the other end of the phone during a bad spell one day.” “Oh yeah yeah yeah, was just, up with the misses last night.” He chuckled, a flush blooming on his cheeks. “Ohhh yeah? And how was it?” This shocked him, nearly feeling his heart stop. Like, does he usually know about his sisters sex life? He didn’t think much of it, as he knew just how close both were. “It was absolutely fucking amazing. Like I thought we’d be done for the night, fully tapped out but after like 5 minutes she’d be right back on me for another round.” He chuckled, his flush even worse than before. “Ayyyeee good for you corpse, glad to hear that puss is bussin.” He laughed at this, throwing his head back. “Yeah, it’s bussin bussin.”

Both men talk as they read from their phones, eyes wide in absolute awe of the love they received from the song. They had just dropped it a few days prior, not expecting the cry of joy from both fan bases.

He didn’t even look up from it when she walked in, until she bent down to plant a kiss to his forehead. “Sorry I had completely forgot about the tea I made you an hour ago, but I put it back on the stove to heat it up so if it’s twisting funky just tell me okay?” Before he could even thank her, both their heads whipped towards the loudness from the other line. “Y/N? Is that you? What in the hell are you doing there with corpse!” He didn’t sound angry, more shocked than anything, both of them looking at the phone in confusion. “I, I love here? Remember I told you like a month ago I was moving in with him?” “WHAT!” Both jumped at the loud scream. “Wait so you guys are dating!?” Both we’re even more perplexed, until it dawned on both of them. Their eyes wide as they turned their heads to one another slowly. “Wait you didn’t tell him?” “No? He’s one of your best friends so I thought you did!” “He’s your brother! So I thought you did!” Both whisper, until all three lay silent. That was until, the large cry of laughter that leaves the two, leaving colson even more confused. He wasn’t mad, not at all actually. More shocked and confused than anything. Until he started thinking, it does make sense, all the times they spoke about one another without him knowing, all the times they mentioned-“OH GOD!” He yelled, gagging violently, making them stop their laughing fit. “What's wrong? Why are you yelling?” She asks “like a month ago corpse was talking about how he was tired cause he was up all night having sex AND I HAD NO IDEA HE WAS TALKING ABOUT YOU! OH GOD WAS THAT WHY YOU WERE LIMPING THAT DAY WITH CAS AND I!” Both laugh even harder, as they listen to his ever growing gags.

“So yeah,. That’s literally how we had no idea we were keeping the relationship secret from her brother.” He laughed, as he red the comments and listened to his friends' laughter. She sat beside him, head laying on his shoulder as he told the story. She couldn’t help but to look back up into his eyes, as he glanced down at her, planting a soft kiss to her lips. “Keep it pg guys.” Colson said from the other line, making them chuckle.

[keilemlucent]

while your currently drunk you can think about what it would be like to go clubbing with keigo. His possessive nature would def jump out wanting to keep you close at all times. you’d rock against his body as he holds you close keeping a keen eye but also enjoying the way your body sways over him. if he’s also inebriated who’s to say he won’t press you against the nearest wall rubbing himself against you and whispering in your ear how he could take you right here and now 🥰🥰 just a lil something 

i am seeing this sober (and with my hangover cured lmao) BUT lemme tell u... the clubbing keigo brainrot is oh so 😩💕

(nsfw)

warnings: dubcon, a little yandere keigo, alcohol, drunk reader, drunk keigo, public sex, dacryphilia

...

Keigo is particularly possessive. Not necessarily in a way that is a cause for alarm, but more so something of note.

You've come to expect the way he hovers close to you in public. How he always wants to have his hands on you, whether that be the firm press of his palm on your lower back, or a tight grip on your waist with his chin hooked over your should. Really, any way he can, he stakes his claim.

It's a little more overt and shameless when the environment allows it to be.

Occasionally, there are small clubbing events for heroes and their company to unwind. Usually open bar. Frequently messy. But cell phones are confiscated at the door, so it's more than welcomed. Heroes really never get a chance to be, so why not be sloppy together?

Keigo loves to take you to them. He loves getting the chance to show you off and let anyone who looks your way that you are his. He curbs the urge in public, sure, but here? It doesn't matter. Here, there's hungry eyes that follow your every move, but they wouldn't dare try anything. Keigo doesn't let you out of his sight. Doesn't stop touching you, and he makes sure that anyone who looks sees how fucked you are for him.

After a few drinks, you’re bolder. Your words slur a bit, not enough to make him worry, but just enough for the sway and circling of your hips to be a little freer. You can get a bit bashful around so many pros, but with the stain of liquor on your lips you’re more than happy to dance the night away.

Keigo adores it. Loves that he gets to hold your hips almost to the point of bruising as you giggle and twirl to the club beats. He loves how unrestrained you both get to be, loves how you rock against him, back arching and neck craning to nuzzle of your nose against his jaw. He can’t tell if you’re just being sweet and gracious or quietly asking for more. 

He has subtle restraint, he always does, but with a few shots having burned his throat earlier in the evening... it’s easier to indulge. He guiltlessly drags you back into him, grinding against your ass. You roll your hips back into his, leaning into his wandering touches. He can feel your breath hitch as his hands slip lower and plays with the hem of your dress. 

Keigo wishes he had an ounce of shame (no, he really doesn’t, this is way too good) as he backs you into a darker corner, wings ruffled and raised. He gets a little rougher, pushing you up against the velour-covered wall, chest first. You flatten to it and brace yourself with sweaty palms. Sweet as can be, you flash him wobbly, wanting smile. You grind back into him, spine curved perfectly under the satin of your dress.

He knows people are watching, and honestly? Let them. Let them see how desperate you are. The strobing lights and neon obscure you enough that the details of you will be hidden, but they’ll know. Keigo’s wings ruffle at the thought debauching you in front of the impromptu, wanting crowd.

He lays his body over yours, feathers shuddering in time with his heavy breath. You’re rolling your hips back into his crotch, his cock is hard enough that he’s leaking (who knew the thought of casual ownership got him off this much?)

His lips drag over your neck, teething at the soft juncture of your shoulder. You moan his name, voice cracking with desire that makes him wild. His forearm braces next to yours, and he presses you into the wall, makes you feel the weight of all of him, wings and lean muscle. 

He pulls from your neck with a growl and can’t help but pleased with the fat bruise he left behind.

“I should bruise you a collar of these,” He drips into your ear, teeth tugging at your earlobe. “If fucking you here doesn’t show everyone whose you are, that would get the message across, don’t you think?”

Your breath hitches from under the palm he slips over your lower tummy.

“Please, Kei’.”

He doesn’t know what exact thing you’re begging for, but he’ll give you everything. Anything. He rucks up your dress, and a hand slipping down the front of your panties and teasing along your slit, debating.

If he were at home, he’d take the time to prepare. He prefers to work you open on his fingers and tongue for a good while before fucking you. He doesn’t feel... right fucking you without you cumming once, twice, three times (as many times as you can stand), Under normal circumstances. But these weren’t normal circumstances.

His hold slips from your hip to your jaw, turning your gaze to his and goddammit, if the sight doesn’t take his breath away. Your eyes are glassy, pupils wide and inky, and your lips are parted, perfectly. Wanting and waiting. 

(He briefly debates fucking your throat but decides against it. He’d prefer to lick you clean on the limo ride home.)

Keigo presses his lips to yours, stealing your breath and licking into your mouth. It’s sloppy, he can feel the spit dripping down your chin as he massages your tongue with his. It’s fucking filthy and he loves it. The liquor is just making him ab bit more... honest.

He pulls away to unbutton his pants, untucking his breezy shirt to pull out his cock with a few lazy strokes. The little whine you give has him back on you, covering your body with his and teasing you sex with a single finger over your panties. 

“I’d make you beg,” he muses, softly against your ear again, “But I have a feeling you’re a little too impatient to do so properly.”

You sputter something, whether it’s a denial or affirmation, Keigo doesn’t care. He’s already pulling your panties to the side, and slipping two fingers between your lips, hardly prep at all things considered. 

Keigo spits down onto his dick and calls it good enough.

You rock back into him, shuddering and panting. You’re unabashed in it, ignoring the eyes in the room, all of your attention on him. The thought makes his cock twitch in his hand, and he can’t wait any longer. 

He hikes one of your legs up high and spears into you in one swift motion with a beat of his wings.

Your breath punches from your lungs and your palms smack against wall. You’re already weak in his arms, from the alcohol and Keigo’s thick cock splitting you. Despite the lack of preparation, you’re less tense than you could be. Thank god for vodka. 

All the same, Keigo starts slow. He wants you to hurt when this is over. He wants you to bear his bruises and imprints. You should be limping when he’s done with you. He’ll take care of you at home, patch you up how you both like so much, but for now--

He wants to leave an... impression.

Keigo picks up at his pace, gasping out a breath as he bottoms out, grinding against your ass and insides in a way that has you clenching and slurring out little pleas for more. And god, he’s happy to oblige.

He picks up his tempo, hand slipping tightening around your jaw, tucking your face to his and nipping at your lips. Your claw at the wall in front of you, but all of your leverage is in Keigo’s hands, and he uses it well.

The beat of the of the club music is the perfect tempo, the thump of it mostly disguises the slap of his hips against yours. But even the shadows of the rainbow lights can’t hide how he’s fucking ruining you. You’re hiccupping out cries for ‘more, please Keigo!’ loud enough that a few of his fucking colleagues have inched closer. It makes something in Keigo burn and he quickly goes for your neck again.

And sinks his teeth in hard enough for you to sob. 

It has you clenching around him, and he knows he isn’t going to last much longer. The rhythm has his insides clenching, and he wants nothing more than to fill you up--

The thought of it, of you leaking with him, has white explode around the edges of his vision. 

He spills inside of you, thick and hot and you gasp at the feeling. You fumble for his hand, and Keigo clasps yours easily, squeezing. The cant of his hips goes sloppy, just like the two of you. 

Softened, he slips out of you.  But Keigo is quick to replace his cock with two fingers, plugging you and tsking.

“You didn’t cum, did you, dove?”

You shake your head, still half-crying and needy, “N-no, I d-didn’t.”

“Can you keep yourself upright if I fuck you on my fingers?” Keigo muses, though it’s a genuine question. “Be honest.”

You swallow and rub at your wet, streaky cheeks, “I d-dunno. ‘M really shaky, Kei’.”

He already knows that, but it’s cute that you tell him like he’s not the cause of it.

“It’s a good thing you’ve got me then, isn’t it?” Keigo kisses your cheek, too kind for how filthy you are. “I’ll keep you up, sweetheart.”

You nod, give a little ‘thank you’ that gets broken as he spread his fingers in your cunt. His own cum drips down his wrist and he can't bother to care. He can’t bother to care about anything that isn’t the sweet little whines or the flush that is dusting your cheeks beneath tears and smeared makeup.

He bullies the bundle of nerves inside you without any care other than making you fall apart. Maybe it’s bad, the desire he has to force you to come undone by his hand in front of his peers. You’re his partner, and a bit illusive consider the relative secrecy of your relationship. 

What a goddamn introduction.

He slips another hand around your front and rolls your clit beneath to fingers. Keigo can’t help sucking another bruise into your neck, like the first one wasn’t enough of a statement. 

He speeds up his treatment as you breath gets more ragged, as you repeat his name to the flash of the strobes and lean back into him. You tense around him as you cum, crying out with a thump of your head against the wall. He holds you through it, not slowing or faltering as you shake and sputter.

Carefully, Keigo lets down the leg he’s had pinned. He anticipates how they falter, and already has an arm around your waist to keep you upright. 

“Thank you,” You murmur, your voice gentle and soft. Far too soft for what you’d just done. It’s sweet though, the way you’re pliant for him as he straightens you up.

You’re filthy, thighs covered in a mix of him and you. Keigo’s damp in his own boxer briefs and it’s not exactly... comfortably. And certainly not ideal for dancing.

You turn toward him. Your arms wrap around his neck and god, you’re too cute as you hide your face in the crook of his neck. Maybe you’re sobering up, or maybe you’re cock drunk, he isn’t sure. But it’s the same comfort that you need. He smooths a hand up your back, laying kisses over your temples and hair lines.

His colleagues are still watching, maybe more than before, because Hawks has a reputation for being a greedy, impulsive bastard, but what he doesn’t have is any reputation for being sweet. 

The vulnerability of it has him moving his wings to encircle the two of you. A bit of much-needed privacy. 

“How about I call us a ride home?” Flying drunk is never good idea. (He found out the hard way.)

You nod, gripping the front of his shirt, “I don’t think I can’t dance anymore.”

“I imagine you can’t, huh, dovey?” He teases with another peck to your cheek. 

You whine and beat his chest with your fist for a moment without a hint of ire. The night is still relatively young but given the drink in your veins and the cum in your cunt, perhaps it would be best to turn in for the evening.

(Or Keigo could fuck your throat on the ride home. The thought is still appealing.)

You mutter something unintelligible against his neck, and Keigo silently reminds himself to make sure you drink a bottle or two of water before bed. Maybe he can get a snack in your belly before you knock out for the night. 

(Or, maybe, Keigo could have his own ‘snack’ by cleaning your cunt with his tongue as you doze off--)

Keigo purrs with his thoughts as he tucks his wings to his back, ushering you to the exit, all the while feeling the (horny, jealous, surprised) stares of his colleagues at his back. 

[rcksmith]

Attention — Five Hargreeves

Requests: “Hiiiiii would you be able to do 48 and 56 from the smut prompts for Five! Tyyyyy 🥺🥺”

“Hiii could I request 48 + 56 from the smut prompts with five”

Smut Prompts:

48. “I only want to please you.”

56. “Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I hope it got close to what you guys wanted. ❤️ As soft prompts, I chose not to make a heavy smut, because I think that's what the requests wanted. Basically it's a more tranquil smut.

Guys, I really understand who doesn't feel comfortable reading or writing Five's smut. But I always say that I only write with him (any genre: romance, fluff or angst) with the notion that Five is 20 years old here. All of my fanfics mention swearing or sex, even if it is a memory or something shallow, but as I am writing with Five as an adult, it is consistent that the fic has aspects of an adult life.//

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves/Fem! Reader.

Warnings: smut explicit and fluff too.

— — — — —

While the night outside bathed the city streets with a midnight lunar glow, Five kept hunched over notebooks, pencils, a mug with coffee and the lamp on. He was in those equations for hours and, truth be told, you were starting to get bored.

Not that it was a surprise Five to spend hours immersed in their mathematics of probabilities, submerged in a world of numbers that you didn't understand at all. Usually, you accompanied him with a book, without saying anything, just reading while he did his math. It was cozy that dynamic, sometimes he looked at you just to make sure you were comfortable, that you were there, and you felt peaceful just for his company.

But that day... well, you were restless. You watched Five pass the equations onto the table, scribbling numbers on the wood as he pulled his coffee mug down for another sip.

You used those moments to observe all the details of him, from his silky black hair, smooth skin, strong jaw and eyes that were always fierce. The long fingers caught your eye even more, and you held your breath for a second when the same fingers squeezed the pencil.

You were an idiot for Five. It was true. You remembered perfectly the moments when those fingers already made you feel so good, sinking into you so deep that you were unable to suppress the moans.

You felt slightly needy all day, getting excited about small, ridiculous things. As it was now, just by watching those long fingers squeeze the pencil.

Five and you had recently engaged in a kind of relationship. You two didn't have a label yet, but you knew that Five already had an attachment and possession over you, so him couldn't even tolerate the idea of ​​you with someone else.

“Five” You called, your voice slightly slurred, trying not to show how needy you were.

He did not answer, immersed in his own thoughts. And then you appealed to... well, plan B.

You sat on the bed, looked at the pants in your pajamas and decided to remove them completely, putting them aside while opening some buttons on your shirt and showing the pulp of your breasts, covered by the lacy black bra. Your legs were now completely bare, your hips covered by the piece of black panties, with the hem of her shirt not covering much of your ass.

“What are you doing?” Then Five's voice came, without him taking his eyes off the equations, demonstrating that he had noticed your sudden lack of clothes.

Plan B was fulfilling its purpose...

“What?” You made a fool of yourself, just to get his attention.

And him did it. Five took his eyes to your direction, falling down your body before returning to your eyes.

“Your clothes.” He nodded “Put them back.” Then he turned to the front again.

That bastard...

You blinked a few times, looking at him while trying not to be consumed by the feeling of insecurity.

“Why?” You asked, dragging yourself to the edge of the bed, closer to Five. “It's not an invitation, I'm just hot.” What a great lie.

“Put on shorts then.”

This guy...

“Can't I stay like this?”

“No.”

“Why?”

So you've reached the peak of Five's tiny patience. He turned to you, his eyes slightly flashed with small irritation, his jaw clenched as if he were controlling himself to not do something.

“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”

But if he wanted to discourage you with that, the reaction was the opposite. You grinned, your cheeks taking on a ruddy hue, your heart pounding, the feminine vanity bulging inside you. In those moments, when Five looked at you as if you were the most superb creature on earth, you felt powerful, desired, sexy. And that gave you the courage to take attitudes absent from shyness.

You stood up, the smile still on your face, your heart racing in chest. Five kept the eagle eyes on you, watching you sit on his lap, each leg next to his hips.

“Y/n...” his voice was a clear warning, but his hands involuntarily went to your waist.

That simple moment was able to bring vibrations in your belly, already wetting your panties. You held a sigh, brushing the black hair on the back of his neck with your fingers.

“I only want to please you.” You delivered the game quietly, making Five let out a loud breath when your words were combined with the movement of your hips.

He should have stopped you, but if there was anything in the world where Five had a weakness, it was you. He was addicted, unable to refuse anything about you.

Then Five gave himself the luxury of enjoying your wet panties against his pelvis, your mouth tracing kisses through him neck that was now as hot as summer. The feeling that it was having you in his lap was indescribable, him body pulsed under you, already ordering something that Five knew very well what it was.

The tightness in your waist became stronger, and the long, long hands went down to the hem of your shirt, reaching inside and squeezing yours thighs.

You blew out a loud breath, pressing your lips against Five's neck as his hands continued to rise, completely invading your shirt, until it reached yours breasts.

The cold palms against your hot breasts aroused a euphoric sensation in you, and a broken moan escaped when Five closed his hands, massaging the nipples of yours breasts, making you squirm in his lap and rub your hips whit his pelvis.

“You want this?” His voice was low, hoarse, slightly profane.

“Y-yes” You sighed loudly, bringing your mouth to his and whimpering there when Five tightened yours breasts and moved her hips against yours. “Fi ... five!”

“I will give you what you want.”

Then his hands left you, going to own belt, opening quickly and lowering his pants enough for the pulsating, hot member to jump out.

But Five didn’t give you time to enjoy the view, or enjoy the sensation of feeling that part of his body. No, he held the base of the cock with one hand while he pulled your panties away with the other, entering inside you. You clasped your hands on his shoulders, seeking help.

“Five!” You were unable to control a groan, but he stuck his mouth to yours, drowning out your groan and his himself.

“Shii. You don't want them to know what we were doing, do you?” His voice was still provocative, making your belly flutter, destroying any chance you had of being able to resist it.

Five's hands went to your waist again, pulling you upward before you came down hard against him. His cock went deep, reaching every corner, being squeezed by yours aching walls.

He groaned, or it was you, or it was both. But you didn't have time to get used to it, Five pulled you up and down brutally and quickly, making you put up with everything he gave you.

And you take it anything.

“F-fi-five” You moaned in his mouth, putting your arms against his neck and burying your face there, trying to stifle your groans while he was taking you so badly.

Five brought one hand to you collarbone, pulling the cloth of shirt aside and exposing you bare shoulder. He put his lips there to muffle his own sounds, pulling you with his hands closer, sticking your body with his, pressing his mouth to your skin when you started to move in rhythm, going up and down hard too.

Their bodies clashed, the air was muffled, the room became hot, their skins began to sweat. You started to feel a thread about to burst, lifting you high, about to push you into an endless void. Five turned his mouth to yours, putting an arm around your waist to pull you down and up harder, and the other hand went to the back of your neck, pressing his fingers to the strands of your hair while forcing you to keep your mouth against his mouth.

You were so close. Your moans became more broken, needy, and you felt Five's rhythm start to stutter, his grip to tighten. Mouths were now only an inch apart, feeling each other's moans on their own lips.

That's when you noticed Five. His eyes spilled from that serious, wild look he always had, his mouth ajar against yours, his black hair clinging to his forehead. He looked like a god, and the crash was too much for you.

You came intensely, in an orgasm that trembling your legs, and your hands tightened more in Five, your core squeezing him cock inside you, making Five swear loudly and sink deep once more, pouring all the hot cum into you, in yours walls tight.

You were both panting, bodys coming down from the top, muscles relaxing. Yours thighs were on fire, but it was a very small price to pay for such a good fuck.

You let out a small laugh, which was accompanied by Five. He removed some sweaty strands from your face, sealing his lips in you, a quick kiss before relaxing in the chair completely.

“Was that what you were looking for?” His voice was smug, boastful again, with a touch of arrogance and mischief.

You laughed again, nodding as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Was better.”

[finnyboywolfhard]

Gross

Richie Tozier x Reader

summary: Y/N likes Richie so much its gross. 

Inspiration: Gross by Olivia Rodrigo 

warnings: literally just pure fluff, cursing we know who this is about 

word count: 2.1k 

The bass was heavy and loud, the people were insufferably packed together. Y/N was a really good friend, or so she kept telling herself, for coming to this party just to appease Bev. Ever since they met at a bookstore, they had gotten really close-despite living in two different towns. Y/N maneuvered her way through the swarm of people. She turned the corner into the living room and spotted her red headed friend in the corner alongside the group, she had heard called themselves ‘The Losers Club’. Her elbows starting jamming into people as she finally crossed the threshold of people and practically fell into the arms of one, Richie Tozier.

“Well, well, well. It appears that you’ve fallen for me.” Y/N let out a chuckle at the response. His brown eyes, goofy little grin and messy, curly hair did manage to melt her heart just a little bit in that moment.

“So, Y/N, you’ve met Richie.” Bev said as she pulled her from Richie’s arms and into a hug. The two stand swaying for a second before Y/N releases herself from the hug. She couldn’t help but notice the six set of eyes staring at her.

“Jesus guys, would it kill you to interact with her instead of stare.” Bev pulled Y/N’s back to her chest and looked toward the group. “You guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Ben, Bill, Mike, Stan, Eddie and Richie.” She pointed at each one as they were introduced.

“Ni-Ni-Nice to me-meet you, Y/N.” Bill said waving to her. Y/N and the group got acquainted a little before they all started breaking off in sections, leaving Richie and Y/N alone.

“Hey.” Y/N said breaking the awkward ‘silence’. “I don’t know this house at all, could you guide me to the kitchen for something to drink?”

“Of course m’lady.” He said taking on one of his many accents. He lightly grabbed her hand and dragged her through some people and into the kitchen. The girl somehow found a water bottle amidst the copious amounts of alcohol.

“Come on, not even one drink?” Richie said leaning in to shout over the music, their faces coming extremely close.

“No sir, I have to drive home tonight. Who’s your lucky DD?”

“Stan the Man Uris.” Richie slurred together slightly. He wasn’t drunk, but he wasn’t quite sober either. Y/N let out an ‘Ah’ in response. She noticed how many eyes were now spent looking at her and Richie.

“Hey Richie?”

“Yes my darling angel?” The nickname made her blush, but she had a bigger thing to focus on.

“Why is every girl in the room staring at you?”

“Oh…Uhh…well you see, I made a joke to some gullible ass freshman that I had a 12 inch wang and he’s started telling everyone. Now the class clown is somehow becoming the class arm candy. I just want it to stop.”

“What if we made them stare for another reason?”

“You got an idea?”

“Two, first off how do you feel about slapping?”

“Please don’t slap me.”

“Okay, what about pretending we’re gonna go hook up?”

“Now we don’t have to pretend if you don’t want to-“ She shoved his arm.

“Richie, do you want it to stop or not?”

“What should I do?”

“I’m gonna get really, really close.” She said as she pressed her body flush with his. Her face was centimeters away from his, she pulled his face down so that she could whisper into his ear. “Now wrap your arms around my waist and pull me closer. Start talking about something random and just ignore what I am doing.” She pulled back just slightly as to start making eye contact. Her stomach was a flutter with butterflies and the proximity. His arms wrapped around her and snuggly brought her closer to him. He began jabbering about something stupid Eddie had said earlier that day about your hand getting chopped off while it’s out the car window. To sell the point to ones close enough to see, which considering how dense the party was was a lot of people, she kept glancing between his eyes and his lips while he was talking. After a few minutes past, she pulled him down to whisper again.

“Is it working?” She watched as his eyes lightly glazed the room and shook his head no. She cursed to herself. Richie’s eyes lit up with an idea, and his arms squeezed her tighter into him.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” Richie leaned down to whisper into her ear. He leans back and Y/N shakes her head yes. He gently grabs her chin and pulls her in for a passionate kiss. They stay kissing for a brief span before pulling apart. He leaned into her ear and said “If I get you to the front door, can we go out to your car?” All Y/N did in response was grab his hand. He lead her to the door, and she led him the rest of the way. Once they get to her car, she lets her head fall against the headrest on the seat.

“Oh my god it’s so much nicer out here.” She let out with a chuckle.

“You can say that again.” Richie said in the same manner. “Thank you for back there by the way, I just needed to get the fuck out of there.”

“Oh yeah, no worries. What should we do about Bev and the boys?”

“I figured that when they can’t find us, they’ll come looking. In the meantime, we could hangout…that is if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Y/N said with a beaming smile. And from that day on, they hung out as much as they physically could. Their weird fake relationship blossomed into a wonderful friendship and then a very real relationship. For nearly 3 months, the pair had seen each other at least five times in a week. Whether that meant Richie driving the 45 minutes to her or vice versa. It was a lot, and it was expensive but they didn’t care. They were having fun and loving where they were.

Y/N was hanging a new photo of her and Richie on her wall by her bed, as Richie watched idly on her bed. His eyes wandered around the walls and furniture at all the different photos and keepsakes she had kept. While most of the photos were of either him, or the two together, he didn’t feel narcissistic in loving how her room looked. He loved it just because it was hers.

“So tell me my darling angel, how was school today?”

“Fine.”

“No Y/N. We’re not doing this bullshit today. What happened?”

“Nothing, just this dumb bitch Penelope C.”

“God, I hate that Penelope C piece of shit.” He said, matching her same angered tone.

“Rich, you don’t even know her babe.”

“I trust your opinion of her, if you hate her, I fucking despise her.” Y/N grabbed her boyfriends face wasting no time in making out with him. She pulls back and just looks at him stunned.

“Why was that the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me?”

“What can I say? I know what drives the ladies crazy.”

“I’m sure of it.” She said sarcastically. Richie did his signature puppy dog eyes, and her icy heart was thawed. She gave him one more peck to the lips, and then began placing pecks scattered all over his face. He grabbed her by her hips and flipped her to be beneath him. He began tickling her relentlessly. Her laughter filled the room, yet also drained her. She pried him off of her. The two lay side by side, heads turned to make eye contact.

“You’re so fucking beautiful Y/N.” Richie said. Y/N moved her head closer and gave him one more soft kiss.

Music softly filled the car. Richies hand was placed gently in Y/N’s lap, his thumb absentmindedly grazes her leg. Her eyes were wandering, looking at each driveway, house, mailbox and road. One day, hopefully, her and Richie would be driving to their own house. They would pull into the driveway and go inside to see their pets or their kids. Her future with him seemed bright. A wide smile creeped across her face as did a light blush.

“What’s got you so smiley?” Richie said, glancing away from the road to look at her.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“You were thinking about me huh?”

“Yeah…” Y/N said embarrassed.

“Tell me all the dirty little details, my darling angel.” He said cockily, smirking towards the road.

“Ugh, Richie don’t be gross. I wasn’t thinking about that.”

“I’m sorry, but is it so hard to believe that my hot girlfriend is thinking about her incredibly sexy boyfriend?”

“Oh shut the hell up.” She said through her laughter. He started faintly laughing with her.

“What were you really thinking about?”

“Just about what it would be like to have a future together. And what it would be like to drive to a home of our own with things of our own.”

“You really want a future with me?”

“Of course I do.”

“I can’t wait for it then.” He said smiling, transferring his hand from her thigh to her hand. He gave her hand a light squeeze. They drove in comfortable silence for a moment, before Y/N had the idea to stir the pot.

“Oh and Richie?”

“Yeah?”

“Think of all the sex we could have in a house of our own.” She said with a smirk as they pulled into her driveway.

Bev wandered around Y/N’s room as she was chaotically putting away her laundry all over her room.

“Jesus, everywhere I turn, there’s Richie.” Bev said breaking the silence, making Y/N giggle to herself. “You really like that dumbass don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.” Y/N stopped for a moment to think about Richie Tozier before continuing,“I can’t help but think and talk about him all the time. He makes me feel so safe and loved, and he always makes me laugh harder than anyone else. I want everything from him- the highs, the lows, and everything in between. I want to tell him everything about my day and i want to hear about the trivial shit he talks about like the traffic coming to see me or what bill did at lunch that day. I like him so so much. I lo-love him.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda gross.” Bev joked with Y/N. “I’m happy for ya Y/N/N, as annoying as he is, he is a really good guy.”

“God, he is so annoying… but it’s kinda why I love him.” The girls continued their night as planned, but the thoughts of how Y/N felt about Richie never left.

As soon as Bev left her house early the next morning, she hopped in her car and went over to Richie’s house. Bev always had to leave super early because of her dad, so Y/N knew she couldn’t just knock on the Tozier’s door. She climbed her way up a tree and across some of Richie’s roof in order to knock on his window. A shirtless and boxer clad Richie came the window groggily.

“What are you doing here darling angel? It’s fucking 7 am.” He said, rubbing his eyes and through a yawn.

“I just really gotta talk to you.” His eyes widened at that sentence. He ushered her in and onto his bed. She sat for a few seconds and then stood up to pace a small line.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Richie said.

“I just…I like you so much it’s gross.” Y/N said looking right at him. “And you were right.” She said with a roll of the eyes and a light stamp of her foot.

“What? What do you mean ‘I’m right’?”

“That very first night we met, hell the very first moments we met. You were right, I did fall for you.”

“Y/N…” Richie said quietly, coming up to bring his body flush to hers, just the moment at the party.

“I love you Richie.”

“I love you so fucking much Y/N.” He said, pulling her into a long, passionate kiss. Y/N sure was glad he was the one she gave her heart to.

[hercleverboy]

razljubit

spencer reid x fem! reader

summary ↠ reader and spencer come to terms with the fact that they’ve fallen out of love. 

category ↠ angst

warnings/includes ↠ arguing, slight hints to sex, falling out of love, a lot of crying

word count ↠ 3.8k

↠ so this is my submission for @railmereid ‘s writing challenge using the prompt “Do you think we could pretend?”. as soon as I saw the prompt I got the idea for this and figured i’d participate! thanks for reading! 

“Never feel guilty for starting again.” — Rupi Kaur

Razljubit is the Russian word for the sentimental feeling you have for somone you once loved, but no longer do.

It’s a funny thing, Love. It’s been written about in countless poems, sung about in millions of songs. They tell you about how people can cheat and lie and hurt the people they were supposed to love in the most heart-breaking ways. 

But they never sing or write about the most painful scenario. 

When two people fall out of love with one another, there isn’t always a reason.

That can sometimes make it worse, the fact that it’s no one’s fault.

Because wouldn’t it just be so much easier if there was someone to blame? Someone to scream and cry and lash out at? Wouldn’t it be easier if one of them had cheated, or spewed words of venom in an argument that they could never take back? 

That’s what made it so difficult. There was no blame, no fault. Just a love now lost. 

For the last four years, Spencer and Y/N had spent near enough every waking moment together. Being with one another was all they knew and it’s all they wanted to know for the rest of their lives. 

There were countless museum trips and blushing giggles exchanged over the tops of coffee cups. With every early morning and every late night, they knew that this had to be forever. This had to be it for them. 

When Y/N met Spencer’s mother, it was one of the happiest days of his life. Diana had been having a good day, so Spencer had called up his girlfriend and asked if she’d wanted to finally meet his mother. Of course, she’d been ecstatic that he wanted to share this part of his life with her, as they’d only been dating for six months or so. Immediately, Diana fell in love with her. They spent the entire day talking, with Diana happily showing off pictures from Spencer’s youth from her scrapbook. Once it was time to go, his mother had pulled Y/N into a hug, telling her how thankful she was that she had taken good care of her son. Y/N moved to stand by the door to give Spencer the space to bid his mother goodbye. When Diana pulled her son into her arms, she whispered into his ear the words he’d never forget. “She’s the one, Spencer. Don’t you ever let her go.”

It was only a few weeks after that that Y/N finally met Spencer’s team. They’d quickly figured out that he had a girlfriend, though he’d expressed how he wanted to wait until he was ready to introduce her, and the team didn’t push him. Though, when they met her, they fell in love with her too. Y/N was just that kind of person, magnetic, passionate. To be near her was to love her. The first time they met Y/N, they’d gone to their usual bar for drinks after work, and Spencer had decided that he was ready to introduce his beloved to the team. Sometime later, Y/N excused herself to the toilet. Spencer had turned nervously toward his team, waiting for their impressions. Morgan spoke first, “Pretty Ricky, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were wrapped around her finger.” Emily had chimed in with, “Yeah, Reid. You better marry that girl before someone else does.” Garcia had been the last to speak, already four fruity cocktails in. She’d grasped Spencer by his shoulders, looking him in the eyes. “Okay so Y/N is my new best friend now. You better not break her heart, you hear me?” She’d slurred, to which Spencer had chuckled. “I won’t, Garcia. Not to her. Never her.”

They would dance together in the early hours of the morning, when sleep was so close yet so far out of their reach. The sound of Elvis Presley’s ‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love with You’ would quietly play from the record player in the living room, the pair swaying together to the soft beat. They didn’t exchange much conversation, simply just basking in one another’s warmth, enjoying the feel of being in each other’s arms. Spencer would hold her tightly to his chest, rest his head on top of hers. It was simply bliss. 

After spending hours between the sheets, they’d stay up together, his arms around her and her head resting on his chest as she absentmindedly drew shapes across his skin. They’d giggle over silly things, talk about their future; marriage, buying a house that would become their forever home, raising a family together. “I like talking about this. With you.” He’d whisper, looking up at the ceiling. “You do? Why?” She’d question. “Because it grounds me. Reminds me that with all the horrific things I see on a daily basis, there’s still good in this world. There’s still purity in the form of children, happiness and kindness and love —” He’d paused, reaching down to grab one of her hands in his. “It reminds me that this — this is the life I’m fighting for. The chance to come home to you, our kids, and know that everything I do is making the world just that little bit safer for the people I love.” He’d smiled. “If I can do that,” He’d grinned, “then it will have been a pretty good life.” 

Their relationship was great, brilliant even, for the most part. Though, some nights were worse than others. “You’re never here!” She’d exclaim, pain in her voice. He’d scoff, crossing his arms as he got defensive like he usually did. “You knew that would be the case when we got together four years ago! Why is it suddenly a problem now?” “Because how are we supposed to build a life together, have a family, if you’re always halfway across the country? Too busy to even call me and tell me you’re still alive!” She’d spit, venom in her words that burned his skin like acid. “Oh, I’m sorry that the serial killer we were hunting down couldn’t spare five minutes for me to give you a call. Perhaps I should ask them next time!” 

Eventually, after the dust had settled and with the weight of the words exchanged between them, they’d apologise. “I’m sorry. I know I’m gone a lot and I know it’s tough on you, I should’ve been more considerate.” “No, no. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have yelled like that. I’m sorry.” “It’s okay. I love you.” “I love you too.”

No matter how vicious their fights could be sometimes, they always came from a place of worry. After all, the arguments weren’t the reason they fell out of love. 

And for a long time, this life fulfilled them both. 

Until the day came that it didn’t. 

They’d been together for so many years that all they knew was one another. Y/N was Spencer’s first proper relationship. She’d taught him how to love, how it felt to be loved in return. For four years they knew nothing but waking up together, falling asleep together. They spent so long on late night phone calls when Spencer was away on a case, spent countless mornings in bed just relaying ‘I love you’s over and over. They were both young, in love with the idea of love. 

They spent so long being in love that it took them some time to recognise when they’d fallen out of it. 

Once they both hit that realisation, however, the relationship didn’t end. Not yet anyway. They both danced around the topic, refusing to accept what they knew to be true. Their mornings were no longer full of loving kisses and gentle touches. Instead, a simple forced smile and awkward laugh with a small “have a good day” as Spencer headed off to work. He’d come home, and they’d eat together in silence. Then she’d go and busy herself with cleaning up while Spencer resumed reading or researching. When bedtime came, he’d lean over and plant a single kiss on her forehead before shuffling further onto his side of the mattress and turning away from her, and she would do the same.

When he was away for cases, he texted sometimes so she at least knew he was still alive. However, gone were the nights spent on the phone, him in his hotel room whispering in a hushed tone how badly he missed her. No more early morning texts that exclaimed his excitement at coming home.

And after months of dancing around the ashes of a love that once burned so bright, it finally came to a head. They could no longer deny the inevitable. 

They’d simply fallen out of love.

Each of them berated themselves for allowing this to continue on for so long. really, they were both just afraid of what life would be like without one another. It would be like starting back at square one. They’d had their whole lives mapped out ahead of them, and they just simply didn’t know what the future held for them, if not each other. 

This was the girl Spencer had been so sure he’d marry. Now she was going to become a complete stranger. 

That was something else that worried them both. Would they be friends after this? Even if things hadn’t worked out for them, would it hurt to see one of them find someone else? Start a life with someone that in a different universe, could’ve been them? Would the reminder of the future they could’ve had together if things had been different painfully jab at them each time they saw one another?

One evening, they stood together in the small kitchen after dinner. They were silent, (conversation didn’t flow like it used to before) and Y/N busied herself with washing the plates. The only interaction the pair had was when Y/N’s fingers would brush Spencer’s as she passed him the plates so he could dry them and place them in the cabinets. Both of their hearts sank at the lack of a spark as their fingertips touched. They felt nothing. 

The only thing to break the silence was the sound of the tap running, and when Y/N had washed the final plate and passed it to Spencer, she turned off the running stream and let the silence that had suffocated the couple for months resume. 

She stood for a moment, as did he. For the first time in months, neither one left the room. With a deep breath, she turned around to face him, her hands reaching behind her to hold the counter in a grip she was sure she would need to survive this painful conversation. 

***

The day that Spencer realised was two months ago. 

He and the team had been away on a case, and they’d been gone for an entire week. He had called Y/N once, just to confirm he was on a case and didn’t know when he would be back. No further communication happened between the couple. Oh, how desperately Spencer missed the texts she’d send every day he was away, the phone calls whenever he wasn’t too busy. 

Once the case wrapped up, he realised how he didn’t feel the usual excitement as he boarded the jet to come home. He didn’t text her to tell her he was coming home. He felt guilty. He used to be so animated on the jet home, knowing he was going back to her. It even got to the point where he’d annoy the rest of the team with his constant rambles about how thrilled he was to be going home, how much he’d missed his girl. 

When had that feeling gone away? 

Would it ever come back? 

When they landed back at the BAU, instead of heading straight back home like he used to, like he should’ve, he went and sat as his desk for a full two hours, contemplating everything in his head before finally heading home. On his way out of the bullpen, he ignored the looks of concern he got from Hotch and Rossi. The team knew something was seriously wrong, but no one wanted to be the first to overstep and ask what was going on. Stepping through the doors of the apartment, he registered how it no longer felt like coming home. Despite being in the apartment that the pair had bought together, the home he lived in with the woman he was supposed to be madly in love with, he’d never felt further from home before. 

In fact, he felt nothing. 

It frightened him. 

Of course, at first he denied it. The idea that he was falling out of love with her was ridiculous, right? Perhaps this was just another bump in the road of their relationship, one that they’d overcome and come out the other end stronger than ever before. It truly seemed ridiculous. Not even three months earlier, Spencer had been looking at engagement rings, agonising over which one would be perfect for her. 

But now? That all seemed so far away. Floating just out of his reach. 

He glanced over to the other side of the bed one night, where she laid next to him. 

His eyes raked over her frame, sleeping soundly with her back facing him. His heart broke as the realisation hit him like a train. 

He didn’t love her anymore. 

The day that Y/N realised was two months ago. 

Spencer had gotten the call that there was an urgent case and was scrambling around the apartment to grab his things before he was late. Y/N stood in the kitchen staring at a blank space whilst she held her mug of tea in her hands. Spencer popped his head into the kitchen, gaining her attention. She grinned over at him as he walked toward her. He quickly placed a kiss on her lips, murmuring a small ‘Love you’ before turning and leaving. 

When she heard the apartment door close behind him, she sighed as she set her mug back down on the countertop. She missed the sparks that used to fly between them every time they kissed, how the touch of his lips used to set her body on fire. Butterflies would soar in her stomach, his touch alone making her weak in the knees. Dread filled her as she noticed how kissing him goodbye had begun to feel more like a chore than a declaration of her love. 

She stopped being bothered when he didn’t call her for days while he was away. She used to get pretty upset over it, always paranoid that something bad had happened whenever he didn’t call or text. She wasn’t fazed at how he was coming home hours after she knew the jet had already landed (courtesy of updates from one miss Penelope Garcia.) 

Of course, she still cared for him and worried about him, but she didn’t feel that ache in her chest that she used to, the one that could only be soothed by his presence, his arms around her so that she could feel home. 

She only began to register what had really happened when the only way she could justify not breaking up with him at that moment was by replaying old memories in her head. 

She would fall asleep reliving memories of the first time they met, how beautifully awkward their first date had been, the day he’d asked her to be his— as if the same man wasn’t sleeping centimetres away from her. She was in love with their memories, in love with how happy she’d been for four years, how she thought she’d feel that way forever. She grasped a hold of the warmth that filled her as she remembered the first time he’d kissed her, wanting to cling to that feeling forever. 

But now, she only felt cold. 

In fact, she felt nothing. 

It frightened her. 

She glanced over at him one night as they were sat together on the couch. He was sat at the opposite end, his nose deep in his copy of War and Peace. 

She knew it then, in that moment, as she watched him push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. 

She didn’t love him anymore. 

***

She gripped the kitchen counter tightly, finally looking up to meet his eyes for the first time in weeks. 

Though, something unexpected happened. (After all, they’d never been the most conventional couple.)

He smiled at her, and she effortlessly gave once back. They were the most genuine smiles they’d worn in what felt like a long time. They continued looking at one another, until Spencer broke into a little chuckle. She began to laugh along with him, both of them snickering at the absurdity of the situation they’d created together. It was one of those situations where if they didn’t laugh, they’d likely cry. 

Their laughter eventually died down; the silence they’d grown accustom to filling the room again. 

Spencer was the first to speak, sighing before clearing his throat. “It’s uh— It’s over, isn’t it?” 

Y/N just nodded sadly. “I’m sorry.” 

She meant it, too. She was sorry for a lot of things. She was sorry for falling out of love with a man who would’ve once given her the world had she have asked for it, sorry for letting them cling to something that had burned out long ago. 

“No, don’t be sorry.” Spencer assured her. “It’s not your fault, and it’s not mine either. It just— happened.”

Spencer looked at her with an unimaginable sadness in his eyes, also laced with the slightest bit of guilt. He opened his arms, inviting her into a hug. 

She gladly accepted, putting her arms around his waist, and resting her head on his shoulder. His arms came around her, enveloping her in a warmth that she hadn’t felt in so long. 

The feeling made her begin to sob, and Spencer did too, the understanding of what was happening finally hitting them full force. Together they stood in their kitchen, crying on one another’s shoulders. Together, they let go of all the despair they’d been holding onto for so long. 

When they finally pulled back, Spencer pressed a kiss to her forehead, a loving gesture he’d always done to show her how much he cared. 

She gave a weak smile up at him, wiping her cheeks. “I think I’ll always love you, Spencer.”

His voice quivered as he spoke, struggling not to let it get caught in his throat. “I think I’ll always love you too.”

Whilst they were no longer in love, they still loved and cared for one another deeply.

She took a deep breath before moving back a few paces. “Okay then. I’ll um, I’ll grab some of my things and stay with a friend for tonight. Then I can drop by tomorrow and grab the rest of my things.” 

He nodded, feeling an odd mix of relief and grief fill him. Relief, because they finally had let one another go after holding onto something that had faded long ago. And grief, because although the blossoming flowers of their love had withered over the years, they were still a successful couple. They were so very in love once that nothing else had mattered. He grieved for the future they could have had, the children of theirs he would’ve been delighted to raise with her by his side.

But it simply wasn’t meant to be.

Within twenty minutes, Y/N was stood by the door with a suitcase full of her stuff. She looked up at him, an awkwardness settling over them. What were they supposed to say? Was there anything that could be said? 

“I, um, I don’t know what I’ll do without you here.” Spencer whispered out, his voice wavering. It was funny, he thought, that he knew so many words in so many languages and yet he couldn’t find one that encompassed everything he wanted to say. “I mean, I’m not sure I remember what my life was like without you in it.”

“I know.” Y/N whispered back, managing still to give him a smile despite everything. “Me either. But we’ll be okay.” She slowly reached up, her arms coming around him and pulling him into a tight hug. 

He hugged her back, gripping fistfuls of the back of her jumper as though that would be enough to hold them together, to glue back the pieces of a relationship that had long broken apart. 

“Thank you, Spence. For everything you gave me over the last four years. I was so incredibly happy with you.” 

He let out a breath as they pulled apart, a sob escaping his lips no matter how hard he’d tried to hold it back. “I was with you too.”

She nodded with a smile, bending down to grab her suitcase, and reaching for the doorknob. Though she didn’t make it far, as Spencer had reached out his own hand, grasping her arm gently. 

“Wait—“ He started. She frowned, turning to face him again. 

“Do you think we could pretend?” He mumbled, his eyes searching hers. When he caught on to the confusion she held in hers, he elaborated. “Just— just for tonight? Could we pretend that you still love me, and I still love you?” 

She shook her head with a sad smile. “We can’t keep holding on to this, Spence. It’ll do much more harm than good if I stay.” 

He nodded, because he knew that she was right, though his grip on her arm only tightened. “Please. Just stay for tonight. I’ve slept in the same bed with you nearly every night for the last four years. Please, just one last time?” His voice was thick with emotion, begging and pleading. 

How could she refuse him? 

She hesitantly nodded, allowing him to grip her hand and take her towards the bedroom they’d called theirs for so long. They climbed in, her head resting on his chest as his arms wove around her. 

Because even if they weren’t in love anymore, he was still losing her. Even if they weren’t in love anymore, she was still his best friend.

Spencer worried for how they would navigate a friendship after so many years of being more. Though, he pushed the thoughts from his head, and instead focused on the moment. They could worry about everything else in the morning. But for now, he was going to hold the woman he used to love for what he knew would be the last time.

This was not them just falling out of love, it was them letting one another go. It was moving on to better and greater things that awaited them.

As he drifted off into slumber, he reminded himself that you do not walk back through a closed door. You open a new one and continue on your way.

*

permanent taglist: @beyonces-breastmilk @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @thelovelyrose @averyhotchner @cynbx @calm-and-doctor @reidyoulikeabook @katexrichardson @jemimah-b99 @devilsarchive

spencer reid taglist: @reidtome

[aficwhore]

Truth Is

Chapter 1: A Night Many Months Ago

Frankie "Catfish" Morales x F!reader

Summary: When reuniting for the mission in Colombia, Frankie and the reader (nicknamed "Chipmunk"), bicker due to their rocky past. After some angry exchanges, a few truths come out, changing both of their perspectives. Will the relationship be mended? Or once this is over, will they go back to the way things were before?

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: explicit language, blood, violence, guns/weapons, lots of angst and emotions, infidelity, talk of sex and sexual encounters, drinking, mentions of drugs, talk of death, and talk of mental health(PTSD, depression).

A/N: This was inspired by the song "Truth Is" by Sabrina Claudio. I want to make this a series (my first series ever), but it's still being decided, so please let me know if you want this to be continued! And I am still taking requests and prompts! Thanks Lovelies <3

"Cmon, please Chip, we can't do this without you." Santiago begged, his hands clasped together in front of him to show his desperation as he stood before me in my small apartment kitchen. I sighed, glancing around our surroundings. He had come to ask about joining one last escapade, one last job and we'd all be set for the rest of our lives.

Finally breaking the silence and meeting his weary gaze, "Who all have you rounded up? If Will or Benny said no, there's no way I'm doing it without them." I took another deep breath, turning to continue the dishes I had been doing when Pope showed up.

Santi's face began to light up, his stance growing slightly as he grinned, "Great! They both wanted in, so did Tom." Seeming relieved he leaned against the counter next to the sink and crossed his arms.

"And F-Fish?" I hesitated, pausing the scrubbing on the porcelain dish in my hand. It felt like the air in my lungs no longer existed. My heart began to pound it's way up my throat and into my ears.

His head dipped down, feeling the concern laced in my voice. Clearing his voice, he quietly explained "Haven't asked him yet, he was last on my list."

I silently placed the last dish onto the rack near the sink and wiped my wet hands on my jeans, looking down and watching the wet marks gradually making themselves known. No longer forcing myself to make eye contact, I nodded at the ground.

"Look, querida, if you two just talked I'm sure it would work out." He pushed himself off the counter and stepped towards me, reaching a hand out and gently rubbing my shoulder to console me. "But don't let this change your mind, we really do need you."

"When are you going to mention it to him?" I breathed out, wanting to keep any and all emotions at bay. His hand on my arm squeezed, as if he was trying to give me some courage.

"Tonight, at Benny's fight, I thought his spirits would be up enough to persuade him." He chuckled lightly, knowing his plan was to take a little bit of advantage of Frankie's mood.

I laughed softly, "Definitely sounds like a Santi move if you ask me."

He smirked and shook his head "I know, shame on me." As he dropped his hand back to his side he quirked, "You should come tonight, we can go out for drinks after the fight, relax a little before we leave tomorrow."

It took me a second to register what he said, but when I did I burst out "wait what?! Tomorrow? Santi, why didn't you tell me that? You forgot the biggest detail!"

He cowered down slightly, rubbing the back of his neck "Because I knew you'd yell at me, it was worth a shot putting off the anger a little longer." He smiled coyly.

Rolling my eyes I couldn't help but forgive his dumb smile. "Well it starts soon, why don't I get my things real quick and we can head to the arena together?"

His smile widened, "Of course!" I grabbed my purse and keys, making sure to turn off the lights and lock the door behind me. As we made our way down the elevator and out to his car, Santi told me a few details about the missions and the plan. But once we got into his rinky dink ford truck, I turned to him.

"About Frankie, I'm sure one of the boys told you, but just in case; his license was revoked." Santi's face contorted with confusion.

"What? How? Did he crash or hurt somebody?" He questioned quickly.

After taking a breath of courage I spoke, "No Pope. He-He was caught with coke."

Santi stayed quiet, turning the engine on. "I don't get it" A sad expression plastered on his face.

With a furrow in my brow I spoke again, "What don't you get? He was doing drugs, hardcore ones at that". I began to ramble more, "For what reason, I'm not sure, maybe the PTSD and depression. Maybe he felt he had no one to go to-"

"Stop. I know." He cut me off while finally shifting the gear into drive and moving up forward. "You can't blame anyone for this. All we can do is move on and help him. He's our friend, okay? But I know he's still the same Fish, just a little turned around."

"I know, okay. I can't help it. From what the boys told me, he seems to be a lot better." I added, stirring in my seat. "Anyways, it's been awhile since all of us have been back together. It's exciting."

Santi snickered, "But didn't you all hang out while I've been out of the U.S.?"

Seeing that we're close to the arena's parking garage I explained, "I mean, yea, but only me, Ironhead, Benny and Fish. I haven't talked to Redfly in months, we all had a fallout with him. Especially me."

"Tom didn't say anything when I talked to him, Do you wanna fill me in?" He asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Huffing, I turn to face him, telling him the events of that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The four of us, the Millers, Frankie and I sat on my couch, watching TV and talking, when we hear a bang at the door. I got up to open it and find Tom slumped on the doorway. He looked rough and smelled like he had been drinking the past several days. "Woah, Tom, you're really drunk, and you drove here?"

He snapped, beginning to yell, "Who are you to judge me? Huh? My wife left me, this is how I cope." He angrily pushed his way past me and tumbled into the living room. He was greeted with the boys standing around him with concerned faces.

"What the hell were you thinking? You know how dangerous that is? You know you could've called and we would've been there for you!" I raised my voice back, causing Tom to swing around to face me.

He laughed darkly, "Oh shut up 'Miss Perfect,' just like you did for Fish? When he was nose deep in coke? Or are you too self obsessed? Or do you just have favorites!"

"Hey man, that's not cool." Will interrupted and tried to get a handle on Tom. Frankie lowered his head in embarrassment. Will reached forward and placed a hand on his back, but things escalated more.

"Oh okay, yea protect the whore, we all know she's there for you guys more than just talking. I wouldn't doubt it if you all fucked her too. But me? Nah, you leave me out of everything." Tom howled, yanking away from Will and slurring his words and no longer making sense.

Anger becoming more prominent, I spoke, "Seriously?! Whore?! How is it my fault that you push us away and don't let us help? We include you in everything, but you have your head so far stuck up your ass you never show up!" I've come face to face with him, my hot breath and voice blowing into his face above me. "And another thing, I'm not a whore, you asshole, I'm with Frankie!"

He leaned closer to me, his breath reeking of alcohol, "Just him? Does he know where you're at everyday Monday and Wednesday at 1?! I doubt it!"

Frankie speaks up, "What? What is he talking about?" A devilish smirk makes its way to Tom's face.

"Nothing, I swear it's nothing." I try to explain, making eye contact with my partially hurt lover.

"Tell him, tell him you've been seeing a 'Dr. Philips.' Go on, do it." He rubs it in.

Looking behind Tom, I saw Frankie looking like his world had just shattered. "You've been seeing someone?!"

Panicking, I speak, "Yes, but it's not what you think, I promise!"

"Then what is it?" Tom adds, stumbling back a foot and crossing his arms contently at the damage he just caused.

Benny spoke up, knowing the truth about who I was "seeing." "You need to leave man, you have no right to say shit like that. You don't know the real situation"

Tom burst, yelling "I want her to admit it! I want her to admit that she isn't the perfect bitch she makes herself out to be!"

"Fuck you! Get the hell out of my house!" I scream, tears slightly welling in my eyes. "Frankie-" I turn to him, but to find him grabbing his things. "Baby please, let me explain."

"Explain what? You've been cheating on me?" his voice is loud, and cracks slightly.

A tear breaks its way down my cheek, "I haven't, Frankie, please believe me." I grab his hand, trying to stall his movements, but he pulls away.

"You just admitted it!" He frowns and yanks his hand away and heads for the door.

"That's right Fishie boy! Leave her, she's no good anyway!" Tom squawks as Benny grabs a hold of him and shoves him to the door, Will right behind to help.

"You bastard!" I lunged forward and swung my hand, landing right on the side of his face with a loud crack. Frankie spun around, startled at my actions.

The action only fueled Tom's anger because he ripped away from Benny's grip and grabbed me. I didn't back down and started to shove him and swing my arms, hitting him in the face and chest as he fought back.

But just as quickly as the fight started, it ended. Frankie tore me off of Tom, pinning me to his chest and stopping my brutal hits. Will and Benny wrested Tom into submission and dragged him out of the front door as he yelled slurs at me, and dumped him outside with a battered face.

While the brothers were dealing with a drunk Redfly, Frankie scolded and verbally fought with me.

"Just tell me! Who is Dr. Philips!" He questioned, slightly shaking me by the shoulders.

With many emotions running through my head, I couldn't process what was going on. "I-I can't, Frankie, I can't even admit it to myself." Tears streaming down my face I brought my hands up to the sides of his face. "But you have to believe me, por favor (please)."

Francisco looked like he was fighting an emotional battle in his mind. He finally spoke, "Either you tell me, or I leave, I can't do this, not if you keep things from me."

Feeling my heart break, I whispered "Please, mi amor (my love), don't make me. I'm not strong enough." My eyes now running like an open faucet and my hands tightly pressed to his cheeks.

He blinks away tears, reaching his hands up to grab mine and pull them away from his face, "Then I have to go." He drops my hands and turns to leave.

"Por favor no me dejes! (Please don't leave me)" I call after him, watching as he heads out of the door and into the night, leaving me alone. I drop to the floor, tears blurring my vision and all that can be heard are my sobs.

After what feels like hours, Will and Benny return, picking me up off the floor and taking me to my bed. They lay me down, attempting to help my emotional breakdown. They pick up whatever mess that was left after the event of that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And after that night, Tom was no longer invited anywhere with us. Frankie distanced himself and refused to talk to me. But Will and Benny did their best to be there for me in any way they could. They did the same for Frankie. But as for Tom, they casted him out, because he changed, badly." I finished covering the story of that night, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. "And the Dr. Philips I was seeing, was my therapist. I didn't want anyone to know I wasn't okay mentally. I was embarrassed and part of me didn't want to admit I needed help. The lives we chose aren't easy."

Santi parked, and seemed shocked, "I'm sorry love, I knew you split with Fish, but didn't know any details or about Tom." He reached over and patted my thigh sympathetically. "I really am sorry that you went through all of that because Tom was an asshole. You really don't have to do this-"

"No I want to, I'm in a better place, so is everyone else." I smiled shyly, wanting to lift the spirits. "So what do you say? Let's go wrangle up our boys and get rich?"

Pope smiled brightly, "Hell yes!" We both got out of the car, and headed to the back of the arena and knocked, hoping Will was there to open it like he told Santi he would. Much to our luck, the door swung open to reveal a tall, smiling, blonde Miller brother.

"Brother!" Santi chuckled as he pulled the eldest Miller into a hug, clapping each other on the back. They pulled away as Pope headed inside to find the others.

"Hey pretty girl, long time no see." Will joked, hugging me tightly.

I scoffed, "Will, you were just at my house last night." We both laughed and he led me into a rank smelling locker room, which I assumed was for Benny to get ready. As we rounded the corner, I saw Benny and Tom chatting on one of the benches between the lockers.

"Chipmunk!" Benny roared as he ran over, picked me up and spun me around. "I missed you! I'm so glad you could make it!" He sat me back down and stepped back to sit on the bench again.

"Of course, I wouldn't miss you getting your ass beat for the world!" I giggled as I winked at him, showing the younger of us a bit of love.

He shook his head with a grin. As my eyes left him, they met with the eyes of Tom. He seemed to have a look of regret, trying to give me a sad smile.

I walked over to him, reaching my hand in a fist forward, lightly tapping his shoulder, "Hey fly, how you been?"

A small wave of relief washed over him as he responded "I'm good Chip, how are you? And look I'm really sorry, I wasn't in a good place and I regret-"

"Its okay Tom, really, it is. I'm just glad you're better. It's water under the bridge." I sit next to him and pat his back, showing that all, or at least most, is forgiven.

He nods slowly, "Thank you, it means a lot that you're here."

"Oh cmon you have to admit it, you couldn't do it without me, the best there is." I pretend to act over confident and burst into laughter. And Tom joins in.

As Tom and I begin to catch up, talking about what we've missed these past several months, I overhear a conversation.

"Hermano (brother)! How are you?" Santi greets Frankie, I assume, he was the last of us, who wasn't already here. When I realize that it is him, my heart begins to race. My skin starts to burn and get hot, my palms becoming sweaty.

"Pope! Benny! Ironhead! What is this, a reunion?" Frankie's voice echoes as they come closer. As the three round the corner, "All we need is Redfly and Chip-" Frankie stops as we become revealed to him. Tom gets up immediately and struts over to give Fish a hug. Frankie's face lights up with glee and hugs him back. When they step away from each other, I wearily stand up and all he does is give an awkward smile and nods in my direction.

Benny attempts to whisper to Santi, "Ouch, that's cold." And Santi jabs him in the stomach with his elbow, causing him to double over and make a "hmf" sound.

Being slightly hurt, I break the uneasy tension by opening an invitation, "Alright well I'm gonna go get a beer and find us some good seats, it's close to showtime!" Faking a smile I continue, "Who's coming?"

"Me, I can't be in here with this doofus anymore." Will chuckle as he ruffles Ben's hair and follows right behind me.

When we make it to the concession stand and order beers, Will taps my arm, "How are you feeling?"

With a sigh, "Honestly I expected that, but it hurt more when it actually happened. But what can I say." I grab out drinks from the concession worker and thank her and turn on my heels to find a seat. "I love him, and if that means waiting to mend things, it worth it, even if it means waiting forever."

Will offers a sympathetic grin. "It'll work, just watch. Oh! Over there! Perfect seats!" He points as his attention was caught by an opening near the rink. He pursues it as I follow behind.

While we sit, we joke around, waiting for the rest of the gang to come sit and watch Benny get thrown around. Finally the last three show up and sit with us, Tom sat on Will's right side, me on his other side, Santi on my left, but when Frankie walks up, he bends down and whispers to Santi, causing him to scoot further away from me and leaving room for Frankie to slot himself between us. Which took me by surprise. Once he was seated, he glanced over to me and gave me a genuine smile.

We don't say a word as the lights begin to dim and the announcer's voice breaks through the speaks, introducing our dear Benny and his opponent.

Our small group starts to cheer and scream Benny's name, to show him support. As he enters the rink, he searches for us, and when he finds us, he smiles big.

In the midst of all the commotion, Frankie leans over and whispers to me, "I missed you, cariño (sweetheart)."

My face whips around to meet a very close Fish, who is smiling. "I missed you too." I give a small smile and lean to my side to shoulder bump him, as he places a hand on my knee.

[reddie-as-ill-ever-be]

I just watched tiny pretty things and bitch, I have thoughts

So I watched the show because I read the books (btw there will be spoilers for the show and the book)

And as fun as the show was, it was hella problematic

First of all, why the fuck did they change everyone’s names? The only people who have the same names are June and Bette. They made Gigi Neveah, they made Alec Oren, Will Shane, Henri Nabil, what was the reason? That just annoyed me because it was really hard to keep track of who was who

Homophobia

Second, I am fucking disgusted by how they treated Shane and Oren’s relationship (and the rest of Shane’s relationships). I absolutely love that they changed it from the books that Will (Shane) and Alec (Oren) actually had a thing together instead of Will just liking him from afar which was one of the things I didn’t like in the book because it perpetuates the ‘the gay is in love with his straight best friend’ which, honestly is such an old and stupid trope. And then they go and make that relationship incredibly toxic. Shane assaults Oren and Oren punches Shane. And that’s never brought up! Ever! Shane always talks about how most of his family’s in jail and he’s the only decent one. Except he’s not, he fucking assaulted someone! His ass should be in jail! Then Shane gets with Dev, who seems fine, but later he has a speech about how he feels like he’s being used for sex, and then stays with Dev???? Also Dev is on the board of the ballet school, so there’s an obvious power imbalance and Shane is literally a minor. This is Pedophilia. And he gets called the f slur by Bette’s boyfriend (who’s name I don’t remember because he’s boring as shit) and so obviously he gets mad. And then then everyone’s like “Dude, can you just get over it?” No. I’ve been there. I’ve been called that. It is not something you just get over. And they completely disregard Oren’s obvious bisexuality. If he and Shane only hooked up once, I would understand but it’s obviously been happening for a while. I completely agree, Shane and Oren should not fucking be together but can we at least have someone at least talk about Oren’s bisexuality? I hope in season 2 (if they have a season 2) Oren can maybe go out with a guy, he doesn’t even have to end up with the guy (I’m pretty sure the show’s gunning for him and Neveah to get together like in the book) but I want him to come to terms with that, because we honestly need that representation. I was happy that this show turned around the ‘the gay is in love with his straight best friend’ except they didn’t because of course, Oren was straight the entire time

Racism and Islamphobia

This show was supposed to be Neveah’s story. She’s the main character and it was marketed as such. Except this show doesn’t give a shit about her. It only cares about Bette. And of course, instead of June’s mother being the worried but supportive mother, she’s a tiger mom. As if we need more fucking negative stereotypes for Asian people. Nabil is also a muslim, a change I’m completely fine with. Caleb has a problem with this and they fight. And then they become friends and it’s never addressed again? Excuse me? It better be in season 2, and they also better adress the weird sexual tension between the two of them. Neveah and Oren’s relationship had no fucking buildup, neither did any of June’s relationships and Nabil stays with a girl who treats him like shit. This show does not care about their relationships. But of course they delve right in to Bette’s and fucking Delia’s despite the fact that she’s not even a main character. Because we should explore the white characters relationships and forget about the people of colour

Pedophilia 

Almost all the adults in this show are pedophiles. A guy assaults June, Madame Debois assaults Caleb, Romon assaults Bette, Dev assaults Shane. And it’s disgusting. I’m glad they decided to stop Debois and Caleb’s relationship but they don’t call this shit out enough. 

Character annihilation

The only show character I prefer is Nabil instead of his book counterpart Henri, who’s is super conniving and awful and straight up blackmails Bette. Neveah is boring as shit compared to Gigi and I hate how they made her only get in for the school to look better instead of her just being that good. Bette is so fucking annoying in the show. In the book she’s interesting and conniving and cunning. In the show, she just does whatever and isn’t nearly as intresting.  

In conclusion

If there is a season 2, I’ll probably watch it to see if they adress any of the problems, but if they don’t, then fuck that shit, I’m out

[negandarylsatisfaction]

[SUMMARY: Avayah is harassed by an ex until Negan, who is her friend decides to help her by pretending to be in a relationship with her only to unexpectedly fall in love.]

Negan and Avayah PART ONE.

It was a typical Saturday night out with your bestfriend Linda. The two of you would always go to the same bar and hang out with familiar faces, Negan being one of them. The two of you weren’t exactly close but you got along with him and his charismatic personality. Sitting at the table having a few beers, Negan bought along some shots as he always did.

“Oh crap, he’s here again tonight.” Linda suddenly whispered, Negan noticed your expression change and arched a brow.

“Who’s here?”

“Nobody.” You sighed before taking the shot.

“It’s Avayahs ex boyfriend.”

“Linda-“

“What? It’s good somebody else knows besides me, God forbid anything happens.” She insisted in her defense.

“What do you mean if anything happens?” Negan asked as you looked down at the table, you almost seemed afraid to move, afraid to make eye contact with your ex.

“That asshole James has basically been stalking her since she left him two months ago.”

“Ok can we stop talking about this.” Negan noticed you getting nervous as you took a quick chug from your beer.

“He’s still looking at you.” Linda whispered.

“Well let’s give him something to look at.” Negan suddenly grabbed you pulling you to the dance floor making you gasp.

“No what are you doing?” You whispered as Negan put your arms around him and began moving side to side to the steady music.

“Just go along with it, he sees you with someone tonight he might just leave you alone.”

“Or he‘ll just get more pissed.” You whispered, Negan could see the fear in your eyes.

“Relax, you trust me don’t you? You think I’ll let him do something to you? You known me long enough to know I don’t play that shit.” You took a deep breath not sure of what to say in return.

“Just look at me.” He insisted making you finally look up.

“Oh my God I think I see him coming this way.” You noticed with the corner of your eye, panic beginning to take over.

“Relax. Just let me talk.”

“Just....just be nice.” You whispered worrying at how James would react. You knew Negan had a stronger character, he didn’t take shit from anyone.

“Im always nice.” Negan winked at you before twirling you around, he pulled you back into him when you felt James right beside you.

“Hi Avayah, I’m sure your friend here wouldn’t mind me borrowing you for a dance.”

“Actually I would.” Negan responded rather quickly yet calmly.

“She’s here with me and I’m not really a fan of sharing what’s mine. But I’m sure you understand that.” Negan grinned at him leaving him silent.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to finish my dance with this lovely lady. Have a nice night.” Negan turned you around, pushing you away from James. Your heart was racing hoping he wouldn’t say anything else, you knew Negan wouldn’t stay quiet.

“See, told you I can play nice.” Negan smirked looking down at you.

“Thanks.” You whispered.

“I think I’m gonna get going after this.” You spoke softly looking up at him.

“Ok, I’ll walk you out with Linda.” You nodded as the song finished and you both walked back to the table. Linda was wasted sitting with a guy you already knew she would be going home with.

“Ready to go?” She smiled as the man kissed her neck.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here.” The four of you walked out together, Linda already agreed to walk you home with the guy she was with. As you stood outside thanking Negan he noticed James come out of the bar. Squinting his eyes he watched how he looked at you from afar.

“Maybe it’s better I drive you home.” He spoke discreetly looking down at you.

“It’s fine, Linda lives close to me.”

“No, Avayah listen to me.” He spoke with his eyes and you understood.

“I can give your friends a ride too if they want-“

“No we’re good. We’ll walk, I trust you to get her home safe.” Linda spoke trying not to slur her words. Without looking back Negan led you to his truck.

Once you arrived Negan insisted to walk you up to your apartment door.

“I appreciate you taking your time to bring me all the way home.” You spoke quietly as you walked out of the elevator with him.

“It’s fine, there’s nothing more that I hate than when someone just doesn’t get the message.”

“Tell me about it.” You laughed softly in response before stopping in front of your door.

“Seriously though, thank you.” Smiling looking up at him you were suddenly startled by your phone ringing.

“Shit.” You whispered making Negan frown.

“What is it?”

“It’s him, he’s calling me now.”

“Maybe I should stay for a bit.”

You pressed your lips together nervously not wanting to deny his offer but still feeling to embarrassed to take it.

“It’s fine, he never usually calls. I’m sure he’ll leave it alone.”

“Unless he doesn’t.” Negan responded bluntly.

“Just let me stay with you, Avayah. I know men like this.”

“Ok. Fine.” You quietly gave in and led him inside your apartment.

“You really don’t have to do this Negan. I’m fine here. I’m not trying to keep you from anything.” You explained as you took off your jacket.

“You’re not. I’ll leave in a bit I just want to make sure the asshole doesn’t show up. Don’t worry I’ll get out of your hair, princess.” He spoke playfully making you shake your head with a smile.

“It’s not a bother at all. I appreciate it. I don’t have anyone else.” You admitted as you motioned for him to sit and quietly sat beside him.

“Well you have me, Avayah. We’ve been friends long enough,” he spoke with sincerity. It was true, although the two of you only saw each other on Saturday nights, he still became someone you trusted to drink with.

“What’s up with this prick anyways? I always wondered why you never bought him with you to the bar.” Your expression instantly changing at his question.

“Unless you don’t wanna talk about it.” He put his arm behind you, resting it on the couch.

“It’s fine.” You sighed as you pushed a lock of hair behind your ear.

“James and I were together on and off for three years. At first it wasn’t so bad, but then he became controlling. I lost my job because of him, that’s why I started this new one I told you about. I moved from the other side of town trying to avoid him. I don’t want to think about it like he’s starting again, I’m sure he’ll leave me alone after tonight.” Negan saw the doubt in your eyes before you looked away.

“Has he seen you with anyone else before?” He asked curiously.

“No. I haven’t been with anyone else.”

“Sounds like we should make him think you are.”

“What do you mean?” You responded with a puzzled expression.

“Us. We act like we’re together, going steady at least when we go to the bar and I’m sure he will eventually leave you alone.”

“You wanna act like we’re together?” You asked not expecting his idea.

“Yeah, you have a problem pretending to be my woman?” You could hear the tease in his voice the way he asked you but you quietly shook your head.

“Just for a bit.” You yawned as you leaned your head back. Negan smiled watching your eyes slowly close, he himself feeling exhausted leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

The next morning you woke up to a loud alarm startling you awake.

“Woah-“ you whispered half asleep, opening your eyes you noticed Negan beside you, his arm around you.

“Oh crap..” you whispered when he suddenly opened his eyes.

“Fuck- what time is it?” Negan looked down at his watch shutting off the alarm.

“Shit. I gotta get to the shop.” He quickly stood up rubbing his face.

“Must’ve accidentally fell asleep, sorry.” You stood up.

“Not your fault, but I better get going.” You walked him towards the door before he stopped and turned to you.

“I’ll call you when I come out, you know...just to make sure everything is fine.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You smiled, he leaned in to kiss your cheek, his hand on your waist.

“I’ll see you, call me if anything.” He opened the door to find Linda on the other side.

“Well hello there!” Linda spoke with a big grin at the sight of Negan coming out of your apartment.

“I’ll see you two around. Take care.” He chuckled walking off before Linda quickly walked in.

“Oh my God, you totally slept with Negan.”

“No, Linda. He just made sure I got home safe and ended up staying for a bit-“

“Oh I’m sure he stayed, stayed to screw you.”

“We didn’t have sex.” You insisted as you walked to the kitchen.

“We just accidentally fell asleep on the couch and he has this idea-“

“What to fuck you?” Linda began to laugh making you scowl at her.

“No Linda, he thinks we should act like a couple at least until James backs off.”

“Ohhhhh, Negan wants to act like your man. Shit, I wouldn’t mind that. He’s fine.”

“Focus Linda, he’s just a friend helping me out.” Linda responded with a sarcastic look but you didn’t pay attention to it. In your eyes Negan really was just a friend doing you a favor.

Throughout the week Negan called and checked on you to make sure that you were doing fine. Thankfully, there was no sight of James that you could see, little did you know you were being watched.

Saturday night came around and as usual you all showed up at the bar. Negan sat beside you having a beer while Linda danced away with the usual guy she’d meet up with.

“What if he shows up again tonight?” You whispered looking over at Negan.

“Well you’re my girl now right? Don’t worry about it.” He winked at you. You smiled looking over at him, there shouldn’t be anything for you to worry about with James knowing how Negan was. Everyone knew Negan at the bar as the one guy nobody wanted to start anything with, everyone respected him. He left you alone as long as you didn’t fuck with him.

“I’m gonna go get us more beers.” Negan stood up as you sat by yourself feeling more positive about the situation singing along to the song that played, until James walked in.

“Crap.” You whispered to yourself with a sigh, looking over at the bar Negan was nowhere to be found, you panicked noticing James coming your way. Just as you stood up James showed up right before you.

“Avayah-“ He looked you up and down in a creepy manner.

“Where you heading off too?” He stepped closer to you making you step back when Negan noticed James with you and rushed back.

“Got our beers, baby.” Negan reached between the both of you placing the beers on the table. You breathed in relief at his return.

“Can I help you?” Negan turned to James looking at him directly in the eyes.

“Just talking to an old friend.” He responded with a slick expression. Negan put his arm around your waist and pulled you close not taking his eyes off of James, he felt you shaking.

“What’s wrong, Avayah...you don’t look too good?” James could sense your nerves and you hated it, this is what he would use to manipulate you.

“Hey-“ Negan turned to look down at you giving you a squeeze.

“You alright? Look at me.”

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” You pushed away from Negan and ran to the bathroom leaving James with a smirk on his face.

“Her nerves always have done that to her.” He spoke with just enough attitude to make Negan scowl at him.

“Why don’t you get the hell out of here before I drag you out myself.”

“Oh. Threatening me now?” James spoke in a cocky manner making Negans fist ball up tightly at his sides.

“Where’s Ava?” Linda ran towards the table noticing what was going on.

“She went to the bathroom, go check on her.” Negan responded, his eyes never leaving James.

“You can’t make me leave, she can leave if she wants too, hell she probably will with how nervous I make her.” James laughed before walking away. Negan didn’t want to let him get his way. Immediately he rushed to find you coming out of the bathroom with Linda.

“I wanna go home.” Anxiety taking over you, running away is all you wanted to do. It was what you were used to doing.

“No, we’re not letting that asshole win.” Negan spoke with an intense look.

“Negan, Avayah doesn’t want him approaching her again. Let’s just get her home.”

“He won’t approach her, trust me. Just follow my lead.” Negan took your hand as you anxiously walked back with him to your table. He sat down and unexpectedly pulled you onto his lap making Linda widen her eyes.

“Negan-“ you whispered nervously.

“Relax. You trust me don’t you?” He spoke softly to you before calling for the bartender.

“Let me get four shots, tequila. We’re celebrating something special over here!”

“Negan!” You whispered as he looked at you with a grin.

“What? You know I’m a man of many surprises.” He spoke low before the bartender arrived with the drinks. Linda and the man she was with each taking one, Negan cheered as you all took the shot.

“That reminds me-“ Negan reached in his pocket taking out fifty cents.

“Go play that song you always like to hear, baby.” You stared at him in shock, you couldn’t believe he was going this far just to get back at James. More than anything you never realized Negan always payed attention to you playing a specific song every Saturday night. With excitement you smiled and went to play the song you liked. Negan followed behind, grabbed you and began to dance with you. Another shot the two of you took in the middle of the dance making you begin to get the giggles.

“Did I tell you how damn gorgeous you look tonight?” Negans compliment caught you off guard. Well, the man had always given you compliments since he first met you, but being this close to him, with that twinkle in his eyes made you feel butterflies.

“Thank you.” You smiled sweetly.

“Negan...why are you doing this?” The look on his face changed as he looked down at you.

“I saw my mother as a kid trying to get away from some asshole. It was tough, she didn’t have anyone to help her. I remember hearing her cry a lot at night, she thought I was asleep. It left a bad taste in my mouth. You’re a good woman, I just can’t stand a prick that makes someone so good feel so fucking bad.” For the first time since you met Negan, you saw apart of him he never showed.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“It was long ago....I don’t like to talk about that shit. I just promised myself when I got older I wouldn’t let any prick make a woman feel that way again. Afraid and helpless.” He knew that was exactly what you felt, feeling ashamed you looked down.

“Hey..-“ he lifted your face back up to him.

“It’s ok to feel that way but I’m right here.” You smiled at his words.

“Now....have you been having fun?” He whispered in your ear as he swayed side to side with you.

“So much fun, I almost forgot James was even here.” You laughed.

“Good, I don’t like that prick thinking he had any control over you. Show him you now belong to someone else.”

“Oh I belong to someone else?” You laughed looking up at Negan, his eyes glimmered and his expression turned serious.

“Maybe you do.” He whispered holding you close. The two of you were no longer moving to the music, simply staring into each other’s eyes.

“Oh my God, what is he doing?” Linda whispered to herself as she watched Negan lean in and slowly take your lips with his. Placing your hands on his chest, hesitantly you kissed him back. Slowly warming up to what was happening you swirled your tongue around his, brushing your hands up his chest and wrapping them around his neck. You didn’t expect him to kiss you but you didn’t mind that he did. Gently he pulled his lips away leaning his head on yours, Negan himself didn’t expect what he did.

“Shit.” He whispered with his eyes closed, he couldn’t help in wanting more.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered before he took your hand and led you back to the table. Not knowing what to say you remained silent following his lead. Negan went to grab another drink as you sat down speechless beside your friend.

“Did he just fucking kiss you?” Linda whispered excitedly beside you.

“Yes I-I..”

“Was that apart of this whole plan or-“

“No! No we never spoke of it.” You responded in still quite a bit of shock before he returned and sat beside you. Looking up you noticed James angrily staring at you, the look almost made you chuckle.

“Let’s go dance one more song before we go.” Linda suggested before she pulled you up back to the dance floor. Truthfully she just wanted to pull you away to talk more about that kiss.

“So what did he say after he kissed you?” She whispered as you both danced.

“He apologized.”

“Apologized?! For what? You could tell he wanted to kiss you for a while, shit if only you would be able to see how he’s looking at you right now.” Linda laughed as you struggled not to look back. You laughed along with her enjoying the song as you twirled each other around. Negan kept an eye on James as you danced making sure he wouldn’t disturb you yet every time he looked back at you he would get distracted again. Clearing his throat as he noticed you were making your way back, you unexpectedly took it upon yourself to sit on his lap.

“Maybe that’s not such a good idea, sweetheart.” Negan whispered when you suddenly felt his erection. Your lips parted looking down at him, the longer you stayed on him, the harder he got. He tried to be discreet you saw it in his eyes.

“Avayah...please.” He whispered as you felt him squeeze your waist. He didn’t want you to get off him, but he also knew you only were making it harder for him to resist you.

“Are we gonna get going guys or what?” Linda asked as she stood up. Negan coughed uncomfortably as you adjusted yourself on him turning to Linda.

“Yeah, you guys can start going. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Alright, get home safe guys.”

Turning back to Negan you noticed him breathing hard.

“Do you wanna go?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Negan agreed. Adjusting his pants as he stood up he followed behind you, the two of you passing by James, Negan pulled you close to him.

The drive home was silent, all you did was replay the kiss in your head, you wondered why he stopped. Negan kept his eyes on the road thinking about what happened. He liked spending time with you, hell he was realizing he was beginning to really like you. He didn’t know how to deal with that as Negan wasn’t really a relationship type of man. Negan felt he didn’t do good with them and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, he thought you were too good for him.

Walking you to your door, you stopped and turned to him to finally speak.

“So do you want to come inside?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t, doll.” You frowned not expecting his response.

“Why not? I thought we had a good time tonight-“

“I had the best time I’ve had in a long time.” He cut you off softly.

“So come inside.”

“I can’t, Avayah. Our agreement was only at the bar to do this.” You arched a brow not liking his response.

“You kissed me tonight. Or was that a joke to you?”

“No it wasn’t, I know I kissed you. I shouldn’t have but I did.” He looked down knowing you would get upset.

“What do you mean you shouldn’t have? I didn’t mind it, Negan...I liked it.” You insisted.

“Trust me, so did I but I’m trouble, sweetheart..and you don’t need that.”

“Look if you don’t want to do this anymore, just say it. I don’t need you to help me with anything else. Have a good night.” Without letting him say another word you walked into your apartment and slammed the door shut. Negan didn’t want to stop helping you, hell he didn’t even want to stop spending time with you.

“Avayah, you know I didn’t mean it like that.” You heard him yell from the other side of the door but you didn’t respond, you felt stupid, you felt embarrassed. He cursed at himself leaving your building not liking how he ended a great night with you.

Two weeks went by with Negan texting you and calling you, you wouldn’t respond as you felt there was nothing more to say. Saturday nights he would go to the bar but you weren’t showing up until finally Linda dragged you out.

That Saturday you sat at the usual table you and Linda would always have drinks at. James wasn’t in sight and neither was Negan the way you secretly hoped he would be.

“You know Negans asked me about you a couple times already.” Linda spoke loudly over the music, her words making you roll your eyes.

“Doesn’t matter, he doesn’t seem to know what he wants after he initiated everything. I don’t have time for that.” You responded taking a sip of your drink.

“Anyways, I’m going to go use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

Fixing up the straps to your blue top, you sighed wishing Negan would see you like this. Shaking off the thought you stepped out of the bathroom when you suddenly bumped into James.

“Hi baby, I’ve missed you.” His words making you take a step back but there was nowhere to go.

“James, please-“

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had the privilege to have a private conversation with you.” He smiled in a manner that made your skin crawl before he looked around you.

“Aw, no boyfriend tonight?” A dark echo of laughter escaping his lips.

“Does that mean you’re here alone?” He grinned making your heart begin to race.

“I’m not alone.” He could hear the fear in your voice.

“Oh you’re not? Seems like you are to me.” James raised his brows humorously not realizing Negan had stepped into the bar. The first person he noticed was Linda and walked over to her.

“Is Avayah here with you?” He asked looking down at Linda who pointed towards the bathroom. Once he looked up he instantly noticed James with you.

“Son of a bitch.” He muttered under his breath before charging your way.

James stepped closer to you making you nervous. You debated on going back inside the bathroom just to get away from him, until you heard an all too familiar voice.

“Sorry I’m late, baby.” Negan pushed passed James and pulled you against him, planting a soft kiss on your cheek. Never had you been so relieved to see him. You were surprised he continued this act like nothing had happened but you appreciated he was there.

“Everything alright here?” Negan turned to James with a threatening glare.

“I just was offering Avayah here a drink.”

“She’s good.” Negan responded bluntly.

“Right baby?” He looked over at you as you nodded in silence.

“Come on, let’s go back with Linda.” Negan once again kissed you on your cheek making your heart jump. The two of you walking away you discreetly pulled away from Negan. As thankful as you were for him, you remembered what had happened before.

“You don’t need to do this.” You whispered as you walked back to the table.

“Oh but I want to.” Negan pulled you back against him before looking back at James.

“Oh what a surprise.” Linda smiled as the two of you returned to the table together.

“I think I should go home.”

“Already?” Linda asked surprised.

“I’m just not feeling too good now.” You lied.

“Well then I’ll drive you home now.” Negan turned to you making you shake your head.

“No it’s fine, I don’t need a ride.”

“I’m not taking no for answer, sweetheart. I’m dropping you off.”

Negan was silent as he drove you home for most of the ride. It was awkward for you, you sat quietly looking out the passenger window.

“What was he saying to you?” Negan broke the silence making you look at him, his eyes never leaving the road.

“He told me he missed me.” He frowned as he continued to drive.

“He asked me where my boyfriend was and that he was glad I was finally alone.”

“You’re never alone.” Negan suddenly turned to you with a serious look before turning back to the road.

Once you both arrived in front of your apartment you thanked him for the ride. He stood staring at you for a moment as you pressed your lips together with not much to say.

“Not inviting me in tonight huh?” He asked with half a smile.

“For what?”

“To talk.” You raised your brows and sighed in response.

“What’s there to speak about Negan?”

“You and I.”

“There’s no you and I.”

��You sure about that?” Negan responded confidently as he took a step forward.

“Negan-“

“Look, I didn’t mean what I said the other night. Just give me a chance to talk.” You sighed knowing you would give in.

“Fine.”

Negan walked in behind you as you kicked off your heels.

“I’m gonna go change quickly, just make yourself comfortable.” You motioned to your couch before stepping into your bedroom.

When you finally came out, Negan had his back turned to you looking at a photo you had hanging on the wall.

“Well, what do you want to talk about?” Your voice made Negan turn to you, his eyes instantly falling on the silk robe you had covering your body.

“Now how the hell-“ he walked towards you as he spoke, “do you expect me to remember what I had to say with you coming out like that?”

“Negan, you can’t even see anything.” You pouted your lips covering yourself up more and crossing your arms.

“You obviously don’t know I’m a man with a very...very vivid imagination.” He looked down at you with an alluring look in his eyes when the bell suddenly rang making you jump.

“It’s after midnight, who the hell is that?” Negan asked as you quietly ran to the door and looked through the peep hole. You gasped covering your lips taking a step back, Negans entire demeanor changed.

“It’s him,” you whispered.

PART 2 tomorrow!

[starkerforlife6969]

He’s Just Not that Into You- Starker AU

It's the first week of summer and Peter's got a date.

Jacob is nice, and Peter's changed his shirt three times, and the bar is warm on this June evening, and thriving. Dancing bachelorette parties, the game on the big screen tvs hanging from the ceiling and-

Jacob's twenty minutes late.

But that's fine, Peter's fine, he pulls at his cuffs, tucks a curl behind his ear, bites his lip, refuses the temptation to look at his phone.

Maybe he should call Ned, Ned would know what to do-

"You waiting for someone, gorgeous?"

Peter looks up, feels colour rush to his cheeks. Dark eyes, a mouth that's sinful, smirking, in a tight fitting shirt and- "Oh um, no-yes- I mean." Peter manages a smile. "I might've been stood up? But, he probably- something probably came up. Or maybe I had the date wrong."

Smirk looks at him. Sizes him up. "Let me buy you a drink, bambi." He says.

After two drinks, Peter Parker thinks Tony Stark might be his saviour.

He's twenty two, the same age as Peter, but he's got it all- got it all figured out.

"So- Jacob didn't really like me. The phone number was fake." He realises aloud.

"If the guy likes you," Tony nods sagely, sipping his dakiri, "he'll take your number and give you his. He gave you a fake number, bet he didn't ask for yours, right?"

Peter wilts a little. Sighing at his own foolishness. "Right. I thought we had a good time."

Tony reaches over to nudge him. "You need to know what to look for, that's all. When to reel them in. When to get keen. I know guys like you, sweet guys- no disrespect, but you take every little thing as some sort of sign. Oh, he smiled at me or he picked up my pen-"

"But he smiled at me and he did not smile at anyone else-"

"Pete," Tony chuckles, "romcoms have ruined you. Naive-"

"Optimistic."

"Naive." Tony insists, bright-eyed. "Just because you met in a library and you both reached for the same edition of Harry Potter at the same time-"

Peter smacks him. "You're such a Slytherin." He glares.

Tony winks at him. "Hufflepuff, you gotta know how to play the game."

Peter mixes his drink. Muses. "I didn't think love was a game." He admits softly, deflating. The bar's deflated a little now too. Emptier. The TVs are off. The music is quiet and gentle. Here are he and Tony, cluttered over a small table.

"Love is a game, Peter. And we're gonna help you win."

*

They stay there for a few hours yet. Going over Peter's past relationships. Flash, MJ, Gwen, Jacob-

Going over Peter's blind date tactics, how to read people, how to know when to cut the chord- but Tony doesn't mind Peter's bumbling idiocy. He likes helping people. And Peter's sweet, the sort of sweet Tony hasn't seen in a long time. That isn't available in the private boarding schools he grew up in. That wasn't allowed through the pristine hard wood front doors.

"Oh, hey," Peter says, slurring just a little. The drinks he'd had were mostly sugar, not alcohol. "It's empty- is it closed?" He gapes, looking around, all fawn-like.

"It's fine, bambi," Tony grins, sliding his arm under Peter's, guiding him to the door. "My dad owns the place. I'll lock up. You all good getting home?"

"I'll call a cab." Peter nods, wincing at the cool night air. Tony locks up, before turning to look down at his new friend.

"It's good meeting you, Pete." He says, grinning, and Peter beams up at him.

"I know you said not to read into anything, but- wouldn't it be romantic if we fell in love? Like, you saved me from being stood up-"

Tony clamps his hand over Peter's mouth, tutting fondly. This kid. "Not that kinda movie, sweetheart. I'll be the mentor. The guide. The Yoda to your Luke."

Peter nods, and Tony removes his hand. Peter smiles beatifically up at him. "Alright. Thank you, sensei. I will resolve to follow your council."

Tony likes him. Wants to see him do well. Had hated the sight of the kid (not a kid, the same age, but Peter doesn't seem it. Full of idealism and princess stories) being stood up. Tony wants to see him happy. In love. Not getting played. Just because it's not for Tony, doesn't mean he doesn't want Peter to have it. "Here, take my number." Tony says, taking Peter's phone, typing in his number and sending himself a text. "Call me whenever you have a question."

Peter takes the phone gratefully. Cradles it in his palm. "Take you up on that I will."

Tony flicks his head. "I'm Yoda, nitwit."

"Hurt that did." Peter pouts, and Tony laughs into the night air, and hopes Peter calls.

*

Beck is hot, hard muscle, and Peter's only slightly uncomfortable from his position being pinned on the couch- the bony arm rest digging into his back, but that's all fine, because Beck tastes like toothpaste and his hands make Peter shudder-

They'd met yesterday, at a coffee shop. They'd both reached for the pumpkin spiced latte. Had both laughed. Exchanged numbers. It was a perfect meet-cute.

And Beck had called Peter. He's reading all the signs right, he's sure of it.

Peter curses when his phone buzzes. His boss wants his article done by tonight. New deadline. He sighs, pulling out from Beck's grip. "Sorry," he says earnestly, "I've gotta go. My boss needs this."

Beck nods, flushed, half-hard, hair falling attractively into his face. "I get it, but you can do your work here? Hm? I'll order take out, you can spend the night..."

Beck's hands slide up Peter's shirt, massage the taut muscle there. Peter relaxes into the touch, just a little. "That sounds nice..." he confesses, before laughing, "but I would never get anything done with you here."

Beck kisses his neck, bristly, goose-bump inducing. "Would that be so bad?" He murmurs.

"I really can't..."

"It just sucks," Beck sighs, pulling away. "Because I'm going out of town tomorrow and won't be in touch for a while. I'll just miss you."

Out of town? Peter's head rings. He's not sure what to make of it. Is it a play? Does Beck like him? Does he just want sex? If Peter stays tonight, will he never see Beck again?

"Can I go to the bathroom?" He blurts, like he's in school and Beck blinks at him, bewildered, but gestures with his hand.

He finds Tony's number under Sexy Yoda which is just- mental images that Peter does not need right now- and he dials.

"Pete, you called." Tony says warmly, answering on the second ring.

"Oh hey, hi- Tony," Peter bleats, sitting on the bathtub and thrumming his fingers. "I'm in a situation- need advice."

"Ah, amazing- one sec." Then, quieter, "Hey, Pep, d'ya mind? I'll be back in 10."

"Hope I'm not interrupting!"

"Not at all. So, where we at?"

"Okay, so, making out- I say I have to go, he says I should stay- I say I can't- then he says that he'll be leaving tomorrow so will be out of touch."

"Run." Tony says immediately, and Peter's face falls.

"What? No," he whines, "What if he really is just going out of town?"

"Peter." Tony says, in that no-nonsense voice, "Where could he possibly be going in the world that would mean he couldn't talk to you over the phone? He wants a hook up. Do you want a hook up?"

Miserably: "No."

"Well then, like I said: Run."

Peter sighs. "So, he doesn't like me?"

"Sure he likes you. Likes the thought of you in his bed. Who wouldn't? You're very cute. But he does not want a relationship. I sure don't respect the guy for trying to trick you into it, I'm upfront with all my one-night stands. It's just sex: nothing more."

"I'm thrilled for you." Peter remarks dryly. "So, run?"

"Run."

Peter runs.

***

In yoga class, the new instructor, Stephen, compliments his form and then asks him out to dinner.

"Run." Tony says, mouthful of something, on his lunch break.

Peter pecks at his own chicken salad. "Why? We haven't even gone out yet."

"Pete, do I have to spell it out for you? Yoga? Bending over, flexibility, bet you've got tight yoga pants and everything."

Peter wipes a drop of dressing off his keyboard. "Not everyone is as physically minded as you are. Maybe he thought we'd get on."

"He's asked you out based on nothing but the way you look doing the downward dog. Waste of time."

"I think you're wrong. I'm going to meet him for dinner."

Tony sighs. It crinkles down the receiver with disapproval. "Go for it. I'll eagerly await your apology."

When Peter does apologise, two days later, Tony is nice enough not to rub it in.

***

Mr Jameson is tough on the edges, but a softie deep down, Peter knows that.

Which is why he tries not to let the very brutal edits on his latest piece get him down. They're all very fair. So, he works through them methodically, learning, trying to improve, and not let them get him down.

It's late afternoon, he's in the zone, when his phone buzzes.

He picks it up absentmindedly, one knee drawn to his chest on his bed, other hand still scrolling through the word document.

"Hello?"

"Hey Pete, how goes the search for love?"

"Tony." Peter beams, warm all over, pushing away his laptop and collapsing back into his pillows. "How are you?"

"Good, good, bar's busy. Dad's happy enough with me managing it. New receptionist hates me, though."

"Pepper?"

"Yeah. I told her it was just sex- she misread the signs. Don't be like her, Peter."

"If a person wants to be with you, they'll ask you out, they'll make it happen." Peter recites: Tony's number one rule.

"Atta boy. What about you? Jameson like your piece?"

"A few edits. I'm working through them now. Actually- the photographer, Eddy, he's nice, handsome, might be into me?"

"Might?"

"Well, I don't know. He's never said anything. Am I allowed to ask anyone out? Or is that against the rules?"

"You can definitely ask someone out." Tony hums, "just make sure you can read their response. Ask him out, if he's busy- he's not into you. If he leaps at the chance, well, you've nailed it."

"Okay," Peter nods, excited. "Where should I ask him to go? Dinner? Is that too boring?"

"Hockey game, a movie, hell, a stake-out, it doesn't matter, just don't read into anything that isn't there."

"I won't. Thanks for the help, Tony, really," Peter says, "And sorry to call you on a Saturday."

"No worries, Bambi. Let me know how it goes with Eddy."

"Let me know if Pepper forgives you!"

Peter falls back into his work. Doesn't realise until just before he goes to sleep that actually- Tony called him.

***

"He said no." Comes Peter's voice through the ear-piece, as Tony debates whether to make himself a kale or spinach smoothie at home later. Both packs of green look equally healthy.

Tony dumps them both in the basket. Ignores the guy leering at him in favour of turning Peter up a little. "I'm sorry, kid. But better you know now than later, right?"

When Peter speaks, his throat sounds clogged "I guess." He says forlornly.

Tony cocks his head. Listens. Thinks. "How far into that tub of Ben and Jerry's are you, Pete?"

A pause. Tony grins: got him.

"I'm not...It's chocolate Fudge. There's um..." a spoon scrapes again soggy paper, "not much left?"

"No wallowing, rule number two, you know that."

"I know." Peter whines, "but I thought he liked me, maybe he did- you know he said, he was going through something right now, a recent break up, but that maybe someday-"

"It's a brush off." Tony insists, "don't read into anything that isn't there-"

"Maybe he did really just-"

"Okay." Tony says, setting his basket on the conveyer belt and pinching the bridge of his nose. "We need to get you back on the horse. I know a guy who might be into you: Steve. Wholesome, boring sort. Your kind of guy?"

"Well, when you say it like that, how can I resist?"

Tony shakes his head, smiling. "C'mon now, he's handsome. Very American. Tall, blonde, served in the Army for a bit, now he's some sort of do-gooder activist."

"Well that doesn't sound- so bad."

"And the best part? I think he might like you."

"I was beginning to think that was impossible."

Tony hands over his card, snorting. "No pity parties. You're easy on the eyes. Got those big bambi ones, those little freckles, long legs too, considering you're so short. It's nice. It's a good look." He can picture it, actually, those long legs wrapped around his hips. Peter's slender neck, fluffy hair spread out over the pillow- he needs to get laid today. Again. "I'll invite him to dinner, introduce the two of you. How's tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" Peter squeals, excited, the sound of an empty ice cream tub being tossed aside. "I haven't got anything to wear."

Tony thinks of Peter's cream skin. Of his honey eyes. "Something tight. Maroon if you have it, anything sheer. Please, for god's sake, not that mustard monstrosity."

"I love that sweater!"

Tony carries his bags out to the car, feels the warm sun beat down on his face. "Oh hey, it's kinda nice out." He realises.

Peter sighs contentedly over the line. "It really is. DJ Ravioli loves it."

Tony stops by his car. Closes his eyes. "Who the fuck," he says, "is DJ Ravioli?"

"It's my cat-"

"Of course," he laughs, getting into the car, turning on the AC. "Of course it is. In every Romcom, what does the main character have? Some ugly ass cat-"

"Hey!"

"And DJ Ravioli! What kind of a name is that?"

"He's such a cutie-wootie, yes you are my little ravioli-cannoli."

"Goodbye, Peter!" Tony yells, hanging up the call.

He can't stop smiling the rest of the way home.

***

Peter's early. That's because he was raised with Ben's if you're not early, you're late mantra, and now he's sitting in a fancy restaurant, fiddling with the tablecloth.

MJ's done his hair. Crimped and weird, but he thinks overall he looks okay. He's taken Tony's tips, in a thin, flouncy maroon shirt tucked into very tight jeans. He better not eat too much. Not sure he could if he wanted to.

"Good evening, Sir," says the waitress, eyes kind, "are you ready to order?"

"Oh um, not just yet," Peter smiles, "I'm waiting for..." he gestures to the two empty seats.

She nods, stepping back.

Oh god, is he being stood up again-

Relief and pleasure seeps through him as Tony appears. He's in a plain black sweater, but he might as well be a model in how it stretches over him. He leans down, pecks Peter's cheek (warm, he's warm, and he smells like cologne) before collapsing into one of the seats and gesturing the waitress over.

"I messed up, Pete," he says, by way of greeting, having a glance through the menu.

Peter blinks, a little dazed. "Huh?"

"Steve. He's not free tonight. I'll reschedule it, I promise."

"Oh." Peter nods, "okay, so-"

"It's just us two tonight, that alright? You can bear my company?" Tony wiggles his eyebrows, and Peter laughs. His nerves leave him, he can relax now.

"I think I can just about tolerate it. How's Pepper?"

Tony winces.

Peter laughs.

***

Tony, for all his playboy moves, is such a gentlemen, Peter thinks. He'd picked up the whole bill, hadn't given Peter a chance to offer half.

And now Peter's full of lobster, warm and sated, and Tony is a warm line of heat against his back as he unlocks his front door.

"Mm, it's cozy," Tony hums into his ear, as they shuffle inside and Peter closes the door, sleepy and a little- excited. To have Tony here, in his apartment, late at night- "Oh, there he is. Little monster."

And to Peter's surprise, Tony leans down and scoops DJ Ravioli into his arms. The fat cat barely protests, using the new position to stretch his spine.

Peter grins, can't help, it and takes a photo on his phone.

Tony glares at him.

"What?" He giggles, "I thought you didn't like cats."

"Never said I didn't like 'em," Tony hums, thumb rubbing beneath DJ Ravioli's ears, "just said they're a cliche, that's all. In every love story, there's the damn cat. And it hates the bad guy- scratches them up- and loves the good guy, because somehow, the cat knows who you're meant to be with."

Peter lifts his eyebrows. "Well, DJ Ravioli likes you."

"Guess I must be the good guy." Tony quips, rolling his eyes. He takes his own phone out then, arranging himself for a selfie. He'll send it to his mom. The cat blinks lazily at the camera.

Just as Tony takes the picture, Peter slides into frame, stretching onto his tiptoes, finger's bunny ears behind Tony's head.

Tony shoves him playfully. "You're a photo crasher, Peter Parker. A photo bomber. A fiend. A nightmare." He sets the cat down, watches his waddle away. "And you're overfeeding that cat."

Peter flips him the bird then, and is rewarded with Tony's loud bark of laughter.

They drink coffee, Tony judges the way Peter organises his kitchen, and then at 2am, Peter pouts and says:

"These jeans are really tight. Do you mind if I change?"

Tony sips his coffee, side-eyes him. "Don't try to seduce me, Parker."

Peter snorts, grateful to shuffle into his bedroom and peel the jeans off him. He pulls on his Hello Kitty Sweat Pants and an oversized science tee, feeling immeasurably more comfortable. He pulls on his fluffiest socks, feels a little bad he can't offer Tony something to wear. They'd all be too tight.

He presents himself with a twirl. "Seduction at it's finest." He teases, and Tony looks him over; something warm and soft in his gaze that makes Peter blush.

"It's not bad." Tony murmurs, turning back to his coffee cup.  "Well, it's-" he clears his throat, "late, Pete. I should go."

Peter wiggles his toes in his socks, wants to crawl into bed. "Okay. Thanks for dinner."

"Thanks for..." Tony looks around, chuckles. "Having me. You should come by tomorrow. See how the other, better half lives."

Peter walks him to the door. Tony stoops down to rub a knuckle along DJ Raviol's back. The tail wraps around his wrist. Tony disentangles himself gently. "Around 6?"

Tony beams at him. "Perfect."

***

When Peter wakes up in the morning, everything becomes clear.

Tony likes him.

He tries not to get swept away in the realisation of it. Tries to be rational, to follow the points.

1) Tony had given Peter his number and taken Peter's.

2) Tony calls him. They talk all night, sometimes. Tony's left dates, make-out sessions, to talk to Peter.

3) The mysterious 'Steve' that never showed up. Or perhaps, never existed at all.

Peter scribbles these into his notebook. Could it be? Tony's so...handsome. Clever. Funny. Why would he be into- but no-

Tony thinks he's handsome. Said so himself. Said Peter had bambi eyes (a pet name- that's a sign, Peter writes it down) and long legs. Said he looked nice in maroon.

They're saved under cute nicknames in each other's phone. DJ Ravioli likes Tony! And there's Tony eyes- something warm and soft that Peter sees from time to time.

And the fact that Tony saved him from being stood up. It's a perfect meet-cute.

Peter squeals. Tony's invited him over tonight. Never pressured him into sex- it must be something.

He spins on the kitchen stool and dreams of happily ever after.

***

The radio plays as they wash the dishes. Tony washes, Peter dries. Their hips bump.

It's nice, Tony thinks, as they hum along. His penthouse- big, empty, most of the times- except when he's having parties loud enough to upset the neighbours, but even those- they don't compare to this quiet company of Peter Parker.

Peter screeches as he hits a high note, so Tony turns the faucet on him, laughing as Peter splutters, slapping him with the rag.

Tony doesn't want to point out he he has dishwasher. He likes this.

Once they're done, he collapses onto the couch, watches as Peter ambles around before coming to stand in front of him. He looks thoughtful. He's wearing that gross mustard sweater that Tony kinda likes now, if only for the way it makes Peter looks soft and cuddly.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks, trying to read Peter's mind. He's good at reading people, great at reading Peter, but not tonight. He can't quite gauge it.

Then Peter, in his ugly sweater, beautiful, with a grace Tony suspected but didn't know Peter possessed- straddles him on the couch, and kisses him.

Tony feels those long legs, spread wide over his own knees, feels the heat of Peter's core, those lily hands against his cheeks, that soft, soft mouth against his own.

He moans appreciatively, opening his mouth, taking control. His own hands coming to wrap around Peter's waist and-

"I knew it," Peter whispers, pleased as punch against his cheek, "we're in love."

Tony splutters, a cold wash of water against the pleasing heat that was working it's way down his body. "We're- what-" he pushes Peter away a little, from where those teeth were nipping his ear.

Peter sits back, still fucking straddling him, still looking as innocent as a wall-flower, one hand still poisoned above Tony's denim-clad dick. "We're in love," Peter repeats, beaming. "We're dating."

Tony scoffs, erection wilting. "Well, gee, Pete, was I ever gonna know about any of this? In what universe are we dating?"

"We-" Peter frowns, swallowing hard. "I- you liked me? The signs-"

"What signs?!" Tony fumes, pressure mounting, pushing on his chest. "Jesus Christ, Pete." He pushes Peter off him, gets to his feet. "What the fuck?"

"I..." Peter sits, mussed, on the couch, staring up at him. "You- you took my number. You call me, S-Steve didn't show up- you- you- we talk all night, we made dinner, we washed up- you came over- I thought-"

"What did I say? What did I say?" Tony hisses, raking his hands through his hair. "If a guy is into you, Peter, he will ask you out. Or you ask him out. Did I ask you out?"

Peter eyes are swimming with tears. He looks flushed with humiliation and great, now Tony's a massive jerk. "N-no."

"Peter." Tony can't look at him, turns and bangs his head against the wall. "Why- why do people do this? Read into nothing. There is nothing between us but friendship. And now..." he whirls back to Peter accusingly. "Now you've ruined our friendship. You look for all these tiny, insignificant moments. I gave you my number because I wanted to help you, Steve genuinely couldn't make the day, I invited you over here because we're friends. I've never made a move on you, never asked you out, and you've never asked me out. You know, you know I don't do relationships. Why? Why do people think that they're the exception? You're not the exception, Pete, you're not gonna change me. You're the rule, and the rule is: if I liked you, I would've asked you out. But I didn't, so I don't."

He has to catch his breath once he's done. Peter's still sitting there, eyes watering- but not crying. The air is tense. Thick.

"God, Pete," Tony says gently, "I don't mean to hurt your feelings, but- no. We're not in a relationship. We're not dating. I'm not into you."

They're mean. Cruel words. But they're true. Tony's a straight-forward, up-front kind of guy. He turns to his kitchen, pours himself a drink. Fuck, what a night.

"I don't want to be like you." Comes the quiet voice from the living room.

Tony sets down the brandy, whirls towards Peter with a scoff. "Excuse me?"

Peter looks up at him, still red-faced, but brave. "I don't want to be like you. Going around, using people. Never finding love, never looking for it. Never getting- excited at a smile, or wondering what your life with someone might be like. I like hoping. I like dreaming and meet-cutes, and big, unrealistic romantic gestures, I like that."

Tony sneers, shaking his head. "Fine. I'll be over here, living in the real world."

Peter gets to his feet, grabs his bag, wipes his face. "You do that, Tony, you live all alone in the real world. You won't find any happiness like that."

"At least I won't get rejected twice a week!" Tony yells, as Peter heads for the door.

Peter turns back, hand on the door knob, angry. "I'd rather get rejected knowing that it means I'm closer to my happily ever after. I'll take rejection after rejection, Tony."

"Well done," Tony claps, "this is another one to add to your dossier."

The door slams and Tony's alone and there's no one to yell at so he throws his glass of brandy across the kitchen. The stupid sturdy glass doesn't even break, the liquid just drips down onto the tile and he'll have to clean it up later.

*

It's been three days.

Surely Peter's still not angry with him after three days. Sure, Tony said some stuff, but it was- heat of the moment. They're friends.

He rubs his temples, puts down the paper work- can't read the words. He needs to sign off on payrolls, order more stock, sort out the overtime policy-

He takes out his phone. No messages. No calls.

The door opens, and Pepper walks in, professional, the last dredges of her anger with him mostly gone. "Hey Tony, a few more for you to sign." She sets down the papers.

"Thanks," he mutters. No DMs on twitter. Nothing on instagram. He opens Facebook.

"Oh my god."

Tony looks up, startled at Pepper's expression of delight. "What?" He asks, eyes flicking down- nothing on Facebook. Email, maybe?

"Who are they?"

"Who are who?"

"The special someone." She laughs, eyes bright with disbelief. "Who's got you checking your phone obsessively, wondering when they'll call."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Tony says, putting his phone away. "You may go."

"You haven't been able to concentrate all day," she muses, perching on the edge of his desk, perfectly comfortable. He misses the days she couldn't stand to be in the same room as him. "You put Javier on dishes and Rebecca at the bar- rookie error. You keep asking if anyone's called the bar for you- you haven't shaved. And is that the same shirt as yesterday-"

"No." Tony says emphatically, self-conscious and sweaty, "just go. Please."

Pepper gets to her feet, laughs again. "The world of love. Welcome to it, asshole."

When she's gone, Tony sits there. Fingers itching for his phone.

"Shit." He mutters to himself.

***

He sends Peter a message. A text. He says: Pete, I'm sorry about what happened. Can we talk? Brunch, maybe? I want us to be friends.

He doesn't get an answer.

He wants to hurl his phone against the wall in frustration. What the fuck.

He paces relentlessly. Keeps his phone charged.

Peter posts on instagram, it's a photo of DJ Ravioli asleep in a sunbeam, with the caption another nice, sunny day

What does that mean? Tony had said to Peter once that it was a nice day- is this a reference to that? A secret meaning? Should he like the photo? Should he not?

He finds himself driving past Peter's apartment late at night. Sometimes the lights are on. Sometimes they're not.

Tony wonders if he's eating ice cream. If he's in those stupid pyjamas. If Jameson liked the latest revisions. Wonders if he's petting the cat.

Wonders if he's thinking about Tony.

His phone buzzes, and he nearly drops it in his haste to check it.

It's from his mom.

Sorry, got a new phone, didn't see this till just now- what a cutie! Is he yours? (I don't mean the cat), you look so happy, sweetheart. Also, are you eating enough? Your dad says hi!

Tony clicks on it. Sees the photo he sent her. Captured mid-laughter, Tony is beaming, face turned to Peter, who's gorgeous, beaming, lovely-

Tony looks at his own expression. Has he ever looked at someone like that before? The way he's looking at Peter in this photo?

He does look happy. He looks...home.

*

"-ey Tony. Is this recording? Hey Tony, it's Steve! I just wanted to let you know I ran into Peter- your Peter- at the flower garden in Harlem today. How crazy is that? Must be fate. He's amazing, you're a matchmaker. We've got a date tonight- I'll let you know how it goes!"

Tony listens to the message three times. A voice mail, of course, because Steve might as well be from the 1940s.

There's a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. What does that mean? That the very person Tony thought Peter would get on with is the one he bumped into in Harlem? In a flower garden. Peter was probably surrounded by foxgloves, ridiculously beautiful in his dandelion cardigan, streaks of suncream still on his face.

Maybe Steve had come up to him, said that Peter was a more beautiful view than the flowers. Steve is gross like that.

And Peter probably- probably liked it. Thought Steve was handsome, because Steve is. Probably blushed the way he blushes whenever someone compliments him, like he never received enough. The amount he deserved. Probably said something lame like "you're not so bad yourself."

He wonders how Peter reacted when Steve brought Tony up, brought up their link. Their almost.

Did he ask about Tony? Steve's message hadn't said anything- so Peter obviously hadn't said anything bad. That must mean something.

Going out tonight. Peter's going out tonight.

Tony doesn't want Peter to go out tonight. He wants to lie in Peter with bed, with that fat cat, and watch TV and talk and order Chinese. Wants to kiss Peter- wants to-

"Oh," he whispers, fingers shaking, he presses his hands together. This is love. He's in love. With Peter. He's been in love with Peter since-

He remembers the sight of him at the bar. Beautiful. Sweet. Idealistic like Tony couldn't believe and-

Goddamn it. Tony's loved him the moment he first laid eyes on him.

And he's fucked it all up.

***

He sees Steve on the way up. He hides behind a plant, peeks out behind leaves. Steve is whistling, smiling, pleased. Okay, well, so, they had a good date- but Peter didn't let him in for a nightcap. That must mean something.

Tony hurries upstairs, heart pounding. He knocks on the door of Peter's apartment, tries to control his hair and-

"Oh good, you forgot your coat!" Comes Peter's voice, pleased, and the door opens and-

It's Peter.

He's in Steve's coat. It's draped over his shoulders. There's stardust in his eyes, he's wearing chinos and a hideous flannel shirt and-

"Peter." Tony breathes, wants to kiss him. Wants to pull that coat off him and burn it.

Peter stands firm in the door. Doesn't move to let him in. His face closes off. "What are you doing here, Tony?"

"I can't sleep," he blurts, aware of the wreck he must look. "Can't eat. Can't think straight. I keep- driving past this place, wondering if you're up, what you're doing, if you're thinking about me. I keep- wanting to call. To find any excuse to- I keep replaying all our- moments, I'm- I'm becoming-"

"Me." Peter finishes, he looks up at Tony with his huge eyes.

"Bambi," Tony whispers, and Peter flinches away, shaking his head.

"Tony, I just...I just went on a date with Steve-"

"I know." He whispers. Hating himself already. He's left it too late. Should've come sooner, should've realised earlier.

"And I think he- he actually likes me, Tony. He doesn't see love like it's a game, he calls when he says he'll call and he's not scared of relationships-"

"I'm not scared anymore." Tony whispers, taking another step forward, "I can be yours-"

"But you didn't want to be!" Peter cries, shaking his head. Pain etched across his face, and Tony remembers his words. How cruel, how wrong he was. "I threw myself at you, and you didn't want me-"

"I was wrong. I was wrong, Pete, and you were right. About everything. I didn't- I'm so used to doing the same thing, of keeping people at arms length, that when I actually fell-" the words choke in his throat, "-in love- I didn't- I didn't know. I didn't realise."

Peter stares at him, closes his eyes. There's a long beat of silence. "Tony," he whispers, composing himself, "a wise Yoda once told me that if someone wants to date you, they'll make it happen. That I'm the rule, not the-"

He can't take it. Not another moment. Not another unbearable second of Peter thinking that Tony doesn't want him-

So, he kisses him.

It's awkward, and desperate, and then- gentle. He cradles Peter's face in his hands, kisses him long, and slow and endless. Tries to pour all the love, and the hope and the fire he's been carrying for Peter since the moment he saw him.

When they pull apart, Tony doesn't step back. Stays close. Hopeful. Pleading.

Peter's eyes flutter open, like a prince in a fairytale, like the leading star in a romance. "I'm the exception," he whispers, hands on Tony's chest.

Tony's heart thunders with truth. "You are my exception." He breathes, pulling Peter and his gorgeous smile in for another kiss. His hands push Steve's coat from off his shoulders, he steps on it for good measure, and he swallows Peter's laughter, nearly trips over DJ Ravioli, and kicks the door shut behind them.

*

They spend the next day in bed, watching tv, and they order Chinese food.

Peter checks his work emails, and Tony reaches over and kisses him like he can't help it. Peter laughs, kissing back for a moment, before pulling away. "Am I that irresistible?" He teases.

Tony looks up at him from his side of the bed, eyes earnest. "Yes." He says solemnly. "You are."

"Does that mean I get the last spring roll?"

Tony winces. "I already gave it to the cat."

"Oh well," Peter sighs, collapsing into Tony's arms, tossing the phone away. "You'll just have to make it up to me somehow."

Tony starts to pepper him with kisses. Hands slip under Peter's shirt. "I can do that. I can do that every day for the rest of our lives."

Peter hums, vibrating with glee, "and is this the first day of Happily Ever After?"

"Baby," Tony grins, brushing the cat hair from Peter's forehead, and kissing him again, and again, "I think it just might be."

[wandsandwheezes]

Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH6

one // two // three // four // five

Warnings | 18+ SMUT, mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff, masturbation, hate sex, heartbreak, blood

Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London’s best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.

A/N // thank you to my angst goblin, Lanie @gcdric​ and my angel Zahra @starlightweasley​ for helping me get this one out bc otherwise id be STUCK

One new message

The sound of the answer machine rang through Fred’s flat, he was staring out over London and her twinkling lights. His waistcoat was loose, hanging open at his chest - tie discarded the moment he stumbled through the door. He’d pretty much flung the sliding glass door to the balcony open, letting the biter breeze whip through his hair, blowing the once still curtain so that it flew in a way that mimicked the way a superhero’s cape flows. 

The night of partying had been a wild but well needed distraction. Fred couldn’t stop the image of your kiss from playing over and over in his head, his fingers ghosted over where the absent feeling of your lips lingered, wishing you were here. 

“Freddie…” You breathed down the phone, your words slurred still as the liquor clung to your senses. 

“About what happened tonight, I don’t think it was-” His heart began to race at the simple thought, the steamy kiss was crossing his mind once again, He heard you take a moment, a pause for thought and he held his breath with you. 

“I just - we need to talk. We- I have something to tell you.” You sighed, he was praying he could just call you back, checking his watch, he knew it was too late. What If he did call, would that be so bad? 

“I’m sorry, Fred.” the sound of you putting down the phone echoed in his brain. Sorry. What could you possibly be sorry for? It could possibly be one of the best kisses of his life. He couldn’t deny the electricity that he felt from tip to toe and he knew deep down that you felt it too. So why did he feel a pang of sadness hit his chest, winding him like a dementor was sucking the soul out of his body.

Fred fell asleep that night clutching his pillow as he imagined you in its place. He wasn’t sure what made the tears roll down his cheeks, but shrugged it off as the alcohol getting to him. He was snivelling, contemplating leaving you a text. He needed you to know how he felt, that he was aching for you to be with him. He didn’t want things to just be staged anymore, there was undeniable chemistry there between you, he felt it in the way you looked at him. Surely it would be better if you were his, he could kiss and hold you all he wanted without the need for press or cameras. You could have a beautiful, normal life together. You were one of the last thoughts on his brain as he drifted off, his grip against the plush pillow only growing tighter out of desperation. 

Waking to the midday sun shining directly into his eyes wasn’t making the pounding headache rattling around in his skull any better. Fred didn’t remember anything about how or when he got home, only recalling the mellow flow of your voice reverberating around his flat. He managed to drag himself from his bed, searching every unorganised cabinet for the sight of even one lonely ibuprofen, sighing as his head fell to rest on the counter with no luck. He realised the grave mistake he had made when his head started thumping, the room spinning and his sight going hazy. Water, he needed hydration.

Two pints of water later, Fred was still feeling the sour effects of last night’s burning liquor, feeling the burn in his chest with every breath, like all the liquid was ready to come right back up at any moment. He sat himself down at the island counter as he pressed the button to replay the voicemail from last night. 

I’m Sorry.

The words wouldn’t leave him, he replayed the voicemail over and over, internalising every single word as it played through the speakers. He sat for hours, sat too long until his feet had gone numb from dangling over the seat. The Great British weather had taken its turn for the worst, a clap of thunder distracting Fred from his thoughts, not knowing how deeply the words were hitting him, until he felt a tear drop against the back of his hand. It was too much for him, realising that he needed to see you, touch you, feel you. 

I’m Sorry

His feet dragged him towards your place, he didn’t care that he’d been walking for miles or that the rain was drenching him to his very core. It was desperation that drove him to find you. It was like a sign to him that one lonely red rose grew from a bush he passed, stopping dead in his tracks before turning around to look at it. He plucked it from the bush, holding it up to his nose, breathing in the scent. Rose petals mixed with the cold drizzle and muggy air sent him over the edge. He was walking quicker now so that he could get to you, pace kicking up into a small jog, his shoes slapping against the wet pavement with each step.

One light shone dimly from the confines of your apartment. Fred stood outside, debating how he was going to approach this conversation. He loved you, wanted you to be his and he struggled in that moment to find the appropriate words to express it. You were towel drying your hair, supposedly from the rain as you came into view by the window. You looked like an angel, a pure piece of heaven on earth and his heart beat faster, beginning to move closer to the flat’s entrance. That’s when he spotted another figure coming into view from the window, face covered by the towel as you dried their hair. Whoever it was, had at least a foot on you height wise, their hands snaking around your waist to pull you tight and close to them.

Fred’s heart sunk, like it had fully fallen out of his ass, seeing you in the arms of another man made his stomach churn, his grip on the rose growing tighter as the thorns pierced his skin. He didn’t even feel the pain, just the emptiness in his chest. He watched as you pulled the towel from the figure’s face.

The messy ginger hair, round cheeks and adoring smile were obvious. Fred knew exactly who he was seeing, he was blinking so hard wishing that it was just a terrible nightmare. As George’s lips connected with yours, it was as if it rumbled Zeus himself, a bolt of lightning illuminating the dark sky. It was like watching his whole world come crashing down, watching you chase his brother’s lips desperately, the same way you had done with him last night. He couldn’t help but watch as the kiss deepened, George using his strength to pick you up, watching your legs wrap around his waist, walking out of sight. 

It was like watching a glimpse of a life he’d never have, the rose fell to the floor, petals breaking off of the stem. Blood was dripping from his hand to the floor, diluted by the rain as it splashed against the stone. Not a single car drove by your house, not one person was outside but Fred in that moment. Loneliness was the only bitter feeling left, it tasted like hell in his mouth, unable to shake the image of you and George together, only hearing two words in his head over and over like a broken record.

I’m Sorry. 

Raindrops danced along Fred’s skin, the soft pitter patter mocking him, everything reminded him of you, even in a moment of heartbreak, the glow of Christmas lights, the thunder or the distant sound of horns beeping at one another, it all reminded him of you in the most ridiculous way. His phone chimed, pulling up the messages he realised that his thoughts had overpowered the importance of the messages.

>> I miss your touch Freddie

>> I can come see you tonight

>> why aren’t you responding Fred?

>> don’t you love me?

‘Maybe this is what I need’ Fred thought, Perhaps he needed the out, the quick fuck to get the aggression out of his system. They say it’s wrong to sleep with your boss, but Cherry wasn’t his boss, she was just the publicist. The publicist you shared. If you could sleep with anyone you wanted, why should he feel guilty about it now? After all, if there was one woman who could help him forget, It would be Cheryl. 

<< sorry, doll

<< of course i love you

<< come see me x

>> I won’t be long, i’m so desperate for you, Freddie x 

It was wrong for him to say that, especially when he didn’t love cherry. Not one ounce of his body felt a connection deeper than just sex. That's all it was to him with Cherry; mindless, carefree sex. Why he kept going back to her like a lost puppy however, was still up for debate. 

Cheryl wasn't an unattractive woman, but she wasn't you. She was taller, accentuated by her constant need to wear heels, not that it mattered much to Fred when he towered above most people he met. She had long blonde hair that was always beach waved and perfectly sun-kissed skin like a Miami model. Fred didn't care too much about superficial looks, but it was undeniable that part of the reason he enjoyed Cherry so much was the way her tits, although obviously fake, would bounce in his face begging to be touched as she sank down onto him or the way her full lips looked as they wrapped around his throbbing cock. Fucking Cheryl from behind was as much fun, he had all the ass he could hold onto before him and a tight cunt that always struggled to take him. 

Reaching his home Cherry was already waiting for him. She spun around as soon as his presence behind her was felt, lips attaching to his immediately. The red lipstick she wore while unique to her, was now being transferred to the man's lips as they kissed. He wasn't disappointed to be kissing someone, it was disappointment that it wasn't you. Your kisses were heaven compared to what he was getting now, he found himself picturing you in his arms and that seemed to work. 

They wasted no time stripping each other's clothes off, Fred was aching to pound his cock into something, even if it had to be Cherry. When the girl tried to straddle him, he grabbed her hips, throwing her against the mattress, causing a giggle to erupt from her lips. "Hands and knees tonight, Doll." 

Being seethed inside Cherry felt amazing. He tried to stretch her out, push as much of himself inside as he could, but she was simply so tight. The pace he set was animalistic, fucking the girl raw against the sheets, he couldn't stand to look at her, closing his eyes and pretending it was the girl he’d been longing for. It wasn't enough, he needed more control. Fred's hand was pushing Cherry's face into the sheets, his thrusts more violent and possessive as he continued fucking her senseless. 

Back at your home, George was seethed all the way inside you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. The way you two fit together was like lock and key, a perfect size for each other. "I'm so deep inside of you princess, can you feel me in your belly?" You were nodding, grabbing his hand to press against your abdomen, his thrusts were slow and purposeful, he was trying to make you cum over and over and over again tonight and you were already waiting for number four. "Yes Georgie, right here, it feels so good when you fill me up." he hummed as he felt the tip of his cock hitting where his hand was pressed with every thrust. His precious girl. All for him. 

Fred was on the edge, skin slapping as he chased his orgasm, Not caring much for Cherry's desperate moans, no matter how good he was making her feel. He wanted her to shut up, it sounded so fake, but he was ready to release, pulling out to let his cum drip over the curve of her ass. He flopped on the bed next to her, immediately feeling her hand on his cock, stroking gently. "You're so good, Freddie, So big." 

She took him into her mouth with ease, it was the only time he could be fully inside of her. His head was back against the mattress as he pictures your soft lips replacing hers. His hand came up to stroke her hair as she continued sucking him off. Try as he might to cum again, he knew it wasn’t your hand on his cock, or your lips. It was another woman, the thought made him sick to his stomach, forcing him to sit bolt upright, pulling himself away from the naked girl on his bed.

“I can’t do this.” he grumbled, grabbing the boxers he had discarded on the floor, pulling them up. Cherry sighed, running a hand through her hair and pulling it over her shoulder, “Do you want me to stay Freddie?” she smiled, playing with the ends of hair as she watched him walk into his bathroom across the hall. “I don’t care.” he spoke plainly, the hurt in his chest hitting him once again as he slammed the door behind him. 

He could still hear the hums and moans you made against his lips. As he leant against the shut door, his hand reached down to start palming himself, feeling himself grow hard again at the thought of you. He was picturing you sprawled out on his bed, begging for him, using your mouth to get him off - He was getting close again as he imagined slamming his hips into you. Just as he reached his peak again, one thought plagued his mind, you moaning his twins name. His heart broke again as he came, sighing as he realised that he was too late. You weren’t his to have.

/// TO BE CONTINUED ///  >>>>>> Chapter Seven

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