#counts am i right? anyway hes not the best driver either he drives with one hand on the steering wheel at the bottom like next to his leg

[biffhofosho]

Perfect Game

Fandom: Monsta X

Genre: Smut, natch.

Word Count: 15k

Pairing: Hyungwon x OC

Trope: Best friends to lovers

Synopsis: Who would have thought that a game of bowling could change the trajectory of a friendship? Then again, maybe that’s been the plan all along…

The Vibe: Dreamboat university best friend Hyungwon, a little jealousyyyyyyyyy, gratuitous falling in love, smut with so many feelings, awkward admission of said feelings, and happily ever after.

A/N: This was inspired by two things, both from the same source: Inssa Oppa, specifically, the man behind the introvert—the Chae Hyungwon I’m dying to call my best friend—as well as that one bowling scene. >.< That viciously up-ended my life. I am not the same woman I once was because of it.

This is ONE HUNDRED PERCENT self-indulgent and most definitely my gift to myself on my 40th birthday, but I hope you enjoy it, too.

It was half past seven when Maaya picked up her best friend Hyungwon from his apartment on the north side of campus.

“Seriously, Wonnie?” she said as he slipped into the passenger seat.

“What?”

“A white tee, skinny jeans, and a ballcap? You know that’s my favorite. Now, I’m going to be comparing every guy I meet tonight to you.”

“Don’t you always?” he teased, and she sighed.

“You’re supposed to be helping me move on from Kun.”

“And I will, a promise is a promise, but can’t I look good, too?”

“Please. You look good in absolutely everything. You could have worn literally anything other than the perfect boyfriend look tonight.”

“But I am the perfect boyfriend,” he protested softly.

“You’re the perfect pain in my ass. What do you need the hat for anyway? The sun’s going down.”

“Well, until it does, I guess I’ll wear it.”

“Annoying,” she groused.

Hyungwon pursed his lips as he appraised her piloting down the main drag through the university. “You’re one to talk, dressed in a flouncy little skirt and a tight tank.”

“You told me to dress cute!” Maaya wailed.

“I said cute, not sexy.”

“Whatever, that’s the point, right? To get guys to notice me?”

“Yeah, well, it’s cold out,” he admonished.

“Barely.”

Hyungwon glowered at the ponytailed driver. “You do know how night works, right? It’s going to get colder.”

“Says the guy in the tee-shirt.”

“I brought a jacket,” he retorted, draping a leather jacket across his lap, and now his boyfriend look adopted that subtle bad boy edge that made Maaya shift in her seat. Hyungwon didn’t seem to notice as he added, “I don’t see any church girl cardigans in the back to dampen your sexy.”

Maaya grinned slyly. “Okay, fine, you’re right. You’re right. Mom always said to dress for the job you want. I thought the same might apply to dating.”

Hyungwon glanced at her from the corner of his eye as he hummed.

“So, what did you have in mind for tonight, Mr. Chae?”

“Midterms were brutal. I’m in the mood for a win tonight. How about bowling?”

“You’re serious? Wonnie, you’ve never been good at a sport in your life unless you count competitive sleeping.”

“Scared?” he baited.

“Not on your life. What’s my record in our challenges? Eight to two?”

Hyungwon tapped his lip with his finger. “You know I was never good at history either.”

Maaya sighed. “Fine, it’s your funeral. Stakes?”

“How about a favor to be named later?” he suggested.

“I was thinking, like, loser buys next pizza, but if you want to be indebted to me, that’s fine. I’ll warn you in advance though, I already know my favor. You’re driving to Jisung’s wedding so I can get plastered and you can stay woefully sober.”

Hyungwon shrugged. “If I were worried at all about losing, that might depress me.”

Maaya had never seen her best friend so confident in anything except the Instagram modeling he did on the side. A slight trickle of worry alighted down her back before a chaser of frustration did.

“Wait, so what the hell did you tell me to get dressed up for if we were just going to go to some grimy bowling alley?”

“I resent the accusation that I would take you anywhere grimy,” he replied. “Let’s go to Lovers’ Lanes. It’s close to campus, and they have cosmic bowling.”

Maaya spared a moment from the Friday night traffic to grimace at her passenger. “Wonnie, I’m in a skirt.”

“Yes, and as we’ve established, you look equal parts sexy and cute. Look, it’s dollar drafts at the lanes, and I’m sure there will be some equally sexy and cute single guy there who will be only too happy to take notice.”

“Not that it’ll make a bit of difference,” she grumbled. “Everyone always assumes we’re a couple. You know you cockblock me without even trying.”

“Do I?” Hyungwon mused with a twitch at his lips.

“You so do, and you so know it. God, you’re insufferable. Why do I continue to hang out with you?”

“How about I promise not to cockblock at all tonight? It would be a shame for you to look so pretty and not get the attention you deserve.”

Maaya rolled her eyes. She knew Hyungwon meant both the compliment and the promise, but it didn’t change the fact that when guys saw them together, they steered clear, and it didn’t help that, over the years, as the pair of them had transitioned from friends to best friends, Hyungwon had become more and more affectionate. He liked sharing a booth with her instead of sitting across from her. He liked torturing her with spontaneous tickles or draping himself over her shoulders. He liked complimenting her as much as he liked teasing her, and who the hell was she kidding, she liked it, too. But as soon as a potential love interest caught wind of that, the “potential” part became “vanishing.”

It also made dating anyone very difficult. Usually, Maaya had to curb her hangouts with Hyungwon down to next to nothing just so she wouldn’t have to deal with the constant accusations of cheating. It didn’t matter if she assured her boyfriends that Hyungwon had never, ever been into her; nobody liked to see his girlfriend curled up alongside a bona fide model watching dramas in an ill-lit apartment. It wasn’t like she could just stop the PDA with her bestie that she was so used to, so if she was serious about the guy she was dating, Maaya would shelve their unsupervised time until her relationship inevitably petered out, and then she’d come crawling back like usual, which was exactly what she was doing now. Hyungwon always understood because he had to do the same with his girlfriends, and in the end, the two of them both knew they’d always find their way back to each other.

Maaya had spent a whirlwind three months with her latest ex, a former teacher’s assistant of hers, having a lot of sex in a lot of wild places, but that turned out to be all it was. It was sex for the sake of sex since, outside of the bedroom (or classroom or car or supply room…), they had next to nothing to talk about. As spontaneous as they could be, in the end, their lack of chemistry kept good sex from becoming unforgettable sex. It was time to forget Kun and focus on finding a guy who made her feel special and heard and pretty and sexy all at the same time. But over the years, that combination had proven elusive.

“Turn here,” Hyungwon said, shaking her from her autopilot. “Now, Maaya! Jeez.”

Her car screeched as she jerked the wheel into the tight parking lot behind Lovers’ Lanes. It was mostly full, but since it was a small lot to begin with, Maaya wasn’t holding out hope.

“That’s a veteran bumper sticker, Wonnie. If this place is all boomers, I swear…”

“Would you quit your whining? You’ll see. Lots of surprises in store.”

She narrowed her eyes again. “What’s with the man of mystery act, huh? Did you pregame before I picked you up?”

Maaya leaned in to sniff his breath for alcohol, but all she could smell was the mint of his toothpaste enhanced by the mint of his mouthwash.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hyungwon retorted. “You are being ridiculous, you know.”

He held open the door for her, and Maaya walked in, expecting a dingy place that reeked of years of cigarette smoke and unwashed feet. The feet part was true enough close to the shoe counter, but beyond that, the place was clean and shiny, already glowing with blacklights near the lanes. Balls thumped, whizzed, and clattered down the oiled wood into ethereal glowing pins.

Maaya scoped out the clientele. As she suspected, there were a few older men finishing their last frames by the entrance while most of the rest of the place was empty.

“What’d I say?” she said as she joined Hyungwon at the shoe counter. “You said, ‘There’ll be tons of hot guys, Maaya.’ And it’s just us and some grandads. I should have known my borderline boomer best friend would take me to hang out with his boomer best friends. Guess I’m angling to be a sugar baby then…”

It was Hyungwon’s turn to narrow his eyes. “Pipe down.”

“Pipe down?” she laughed. “Boomer.”

He groaned. “That’s enough out of you. Have a beer and some nachos. I’m paying anyway.”

“Ooh, boyfriend Hyungwon even pays. Wonders never cease.”

Maaya propped up against the shoe counter as her best friend bought a game and a pair of shoe rentals. Slouching there with his string bean frame and hint of biceps swelling beneath his sleeves, black bangs tousled under the brim of his cap, he really did look like a boyfriend, and it was really unsettling. It was easier to fend off her longstanding, ever-present, but completely pointless crush when she had an actual boyfriend to go home to, but when neither of them did… Well, honestly, that had never happened before, if she thought about it. But at least it was easy enough to lean into their usual bickering and forget how good it would feel to slide her hand under the hem of his shirt to the small of his back…

Maaya felt her hand twitch toward him at her side. Okay, maybe not so easy to forget after all…

She grabbed her dingy shoe rentals from the clerk and dangled them by the laces. “Ah, the height of fashion. Sure beats these heels for sex appeal.”

Hyungwon matched her scowl with a sarcastic one of his own. “ At least you’ll look attainable now. Any guy willing to hit on you when you look this hot is bound to be an egomaniac too stupid to be intimidated by your hotness or just some dumb frat kid like Vernon.”

Maaya laughed as she sank into a seat and slid her feet into a pair of borrowed socks Hyungwon had had the forethought to bring (and, thus, betrayed his plan to take her to this ill-fated man-hunting reserve all along).

“Vernon was sweet and far from dumb. It cracks me up that it’s been almost a year, and you still hate him so much.”

“You were together way too long for how little he put into your relationship.”

“I don’t know where you get these things, honestly,” she said. “Vernon was a great boyfriend, which is why we dated for three years, and I broke up with him because I didn’t want to do long distance, not because he was an asshole.”

“Whatever you say…”

Maaya sighed and finished tying her shoes. The scuffed leather clashed something fierce with her flower skirt, but at least she wasn’t alone in her tragic fashion statement. Somehow, like always, her best friend managed to sell the look with his tight jeans and now-glowing tee. His ballcap had been tossed onto the table, freeing a mop of silky black hair that billowed in soft waves when he forked his hand through it—which was all too often, as far as she was concerned. Normally, he sported what she called “grandpa-chic,” but today, he was a too-handsome college heartthrob.

“I’ll get us set up,” Hyungwon said as he sat at the computer and typed into the board.

When Maaya finally looked up, she slapped her friend’s shoulder as she hissed, “‘Princess’? Really?”

“What?” he said as he finished typing ‘Wonnie’ on his line of the board. “You’re spoiled and you’re definitely acting like one.”

“Hilarious. Yet again, everyone’s going to think that’s your nickname for your girlfriend—me.”

“You’re overreacting.”

“I’m so not.”

Hyungwon studied her for a long moment before he asked, “You want me to get them to wipe the board?”

“Don’t bother,” Maaya replied with a groan. “Like I’m going to meet a hunk at a bowling alley anyway.”

“Okay, so, can we play now, princess?”

“Don’t push it,” she warned, though they were both smiling.

At least she had a chance to backspace his screenname in time to switch it to a much more apt “NotMyBF” that made Hyungwon scowl much deeper than the Princess dig had for her.

He found a ball suspiciously quickly, almost like he knew exactly which one suited him best, but it took Maaya a lot longer to find the right weight with the right-sized finger holes.

“And you call me a turtle,” he laughed when she returned to the lane with her swirled orange ball now glowing psychedelic sherbet under the black lights.

“Shut up. The last time I went bowling was fifteen years ago with the other second graders.” Maaya looked up at the mocking name on the monitor and grimaced. “I should make you go first just to serve you right.”

But the man had a quip at the ready: “Winners bowl second so they can size up the competition.”

Hyungwon was doing that irresistible smirk of his, the one that always told his best friend he was holding something juicy back from her. Maaya felt her body charge with electricity.

“Just remember,” she warned as she stepped to the foul line, “you asked for the thunder.”

With a sharp look back over her shoulder first, she focused on the cyberpunk pins waiting in their regimented lines at the end of the glowing lanes. One mighty heft later, and Maaya’s ball skidded down the lane, slowing with every rotation until it veered sharply right into the gutter.

Neck as stiff as she could make it, she turned on her heel and whisked over to the ball return.

“Say nothing!” she demanded to the judge-jury-and-executioner behind her.

This throw, Maaya was determined to get her ball to the pins, and she practiced a few swings, picturing her arm like a pendulum. She threw harder this time, and the ball went straighter… and straighter… until it bent gradually to the right again. At least this time, it scratched the two last pins, and a paltry two emblazoned the monitor above her lane.

Maaya braced, but Hyungwon didn’t say a word. Instead, he squared up to the lane, took a bit of a running start, and swept his right leg behind his left so when he scooped his ball and released it, the momentum launched it fast and far. It thundered down the lane, veering toward the right gutter just as hers had, only his curved quickly back toward the left, hitting the headpin dead-on. The rest of the pins fell with a great clatter, showering like neon blue sparks in the cosmic light.

Hyungwon stood there for a moment, still leaning in his pose like a sail catching a headwind. As the pinsetter racked up his mess, he strolled back to the seats and sat down.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Maaya said through her gape. “You didn’t even put your fingers in the holes.”

“I was just trying to be funny. Lucky shot, lucky shot,” he muttered with a hint of a fresh smirk as he crossed his legs.

For a long moment, she squinted at the man next to her, but he didn’t flinch. “Really lucky…”

“Your turn, princess.”

This time, Maaya was dead set on proving herself, and she adjusted her hold so that the ball wouldn’t swerve into the right gutter this time. And it didn’t. It rolled into the left. She tipped back her head as she let out a gurgling sigh, but Hyungwon didn’t say anything, which was for the best because she was thinking of lobbing her ball into his lap for this stupid bowling idea. She was way too competitive to play a game she hadn’t played in eons, especially with actual stakes.

On her second roll, she split the difference between the two holds, and while the ball trundled neatly down the center, there was no spin on it nor was there any speed, and when it hit the headpin, only three other pins fell.

Again, Hyungwon strolled up to the lane and repeated his elegant toss like the ball weighed nothing. He turned around and headed back for his seat as the symphony of exploding pins heralded yet another victory.

He didn’t even bother to watch…

“Wait a minute,” Maaya hissed as she stared at the second X on the monitor. “Why do you bowl like that? Who bowls like that!”

Hyungwon shrugged. “What’s wrong with the way I bowl?”

“Evidently nothing since you got another strike. You’re going to tell me that’s lucky too?”

“I am. Going to tell you that,” he added after a suspiciously weird pause.

She stalked back over to her ball more determined than ever to put on a good show. This time, Maaya coughed, hoping to distract her competition from realizing she was trying to copy his cavalier bowling style, but it ended up a creating mess, with her ball skipping the gutter entirely and crashing into the empty lane next to them with a cataclysmic boom that made the granddads down the lanes look her way. No amount of black light could hide the heat on her face. Instead, she kept her back stubbornly to Hyungwon as she waited at the neighboring ball return for her do-over.

Luckily, he didn't say anything even when she returned to their lane and bowled as conservatively as she could, borderline ball-between-the-knees kindergarten bowling. The ball wheeled slowly but directly down the polished wood and knocked down a triumphant five pins. Maaya would have celebrated if it weren’t for the unshakable crash of her ball tumbling into the neighboring lane still resounding between her ears.

“Hey, right lane this time,” Hyungwon trumpeted, but she refused to look at him, not when she knew what she’d find on his face—that smug grin, the one that said “at least you tried.” She knew it well because she often gave it to him in their matchups. Maaya just wasn’t used to being on the end that received it. “And since it didn’t even know you bowled that first hand, you get another shot.”

Muttering under her breath the whole time, she sent the ball with all of her frustration down the lane and nailed another pin for her first back-to-back hit of the night.

“I am going to destroy you,” she swore as she plopped back down and crossed her arms.

“No need for sour grapes, princess. You want me to coach you?”

“I want you to shut up and bowl, you one-hit wonder.”

Hyungwon laughed as he brushed a hand through his long hair. Maaya hated it. It took his already handsome face and amplified it, and it was impossible to stay angry at him. And, as usual, her friend knew when to push the envelope even further. She watched with bated breath as his slender fingers slid up his own bicep to his shoulder, and she shook her head meekly.

“Wonnie, don’t.”

“What?” he asked with mock surprise as he cuffed his t-shirt sleeve over his shoulder.

“Come on, that's not playing fair. You're already winning.”

He shrugged his now-naked shoulder before he worked on the other sleeve. “Not good enough. Now that you know a few of my tricks, I need to keep you off your game.”

Maaya’s eyes glazed over. She knew she was gawking at him, but she was also powerless against the onslaught of skin contoured by the shadows of the moody lights. Hyungwon had always been a lean kid, borderline gangly in high school, with his long torso and longer limbs, but since he'd come to university, he’d become a bit of a gym rat. Judging by the flex of his biceps and the supple pull of tendons through his shoulder, it had paid off in spades.

While he loitered at the ball return with that damned freshly-tousled hair, he spared another moment to tuck his t-shirt into the front of his jeans as well, and it shook her out of her glassy-eyed ogling.

“Dude, wait. Is your waist seriously smaller than mine? How have I never noticed! You're giving me all kinds of complexes tonight, Wonnie.”

“It’s just because my shoulders have gotten bigger,” he asserted.

Damnit, now she was looking at his shoulders again and, indeed, how much bulkier they’d gotten. Maybe she hadn’t noticed in a while since she’d had to spend less time with him thanks to her last relationship, but it was impossible to ignore them now.

“Really? Two lousy strikes, and you’ve picked up bragging as a hobby now?” she teased, hoping to lose herself in some familiar banter with her witty best friend.

“Ha ha,” he deadpanned. “Get over here.”

Her eyes narrowed. This, she didn’t expect, but she also knew she wouldn’t say no. Reluctantly, Maaya got up and trudged over to him like a death row inmate marching to her ultimate doom.

“Stand still,” Hyungwon instructed. His hands gripped her waist, squeezing a few times to test the curve of her hourglass.

“What the hell!” she shouted. “That tickles! What are you even doing?”

A second later, the brand of his hands left her body and gripped his own waist. He looked even more slender and toned as he cinched his t-shirt tighter to his body. The blacklight outlined the dramatic triangle from his shoulders to that little waist, and Maaya felt her eyelids drooping.

“Hm. We need further tests,” he declared as his hands dropped from his sides.

“Oh, so that was a test and not just another excuse to grope me?”

“I would never.”

She scoffed. “Okay, you've been spending too much time with Minhyuk.”

“Just come here, come closer.” Hyungwon pointed to one of the markings just in front of his feet, and as Maaya took each step forward, she felt her breath get a little shallower and her head get a little lighter. They were nearly toe-to-toe now. She stared straight ahead, into the blazing neon of his broad chest. “Okay, remember, hold still.”

This time, his arms encircled her waist completely so he had to dip forward and crush his chest into her cheek.

“Oh my god, what are these shenanigans now?” she mumbled into his shirt. Nose buried in the folds of cotton, it was impossible to miss the tendrils of wood and rose clinging to him. Maaya was used to Hyungwon’s lazy boy cologne of fresh linen Febreze, so he must have borrowed this from somebody, which was plenty weird enough, but not as weird as how much her body was reacting to it. Every neuron was firing, sparking a need for more friction to get a real fire going.

“Now,” he began. His voice was always deep and grumbly, usually like a bear forced out of hibernation, but here it was husky and low and far too close to her ear. “Put your arms around me, too. Tighten them.”

“Why?” she protested though her hands were already slithering around her best friend’s waist.

“Science.”

His stupid answer lightened the mood, and Maaya laughed. “There’s nothing scientific about a hug.”

“It’s not a hug. It’s an experiment. Hold me tight. Don't let go.”

Hyungwon was so warm. His skin heated his shirt like a cozy blanket, and it was too easy to sink into its softness. Her throat was very, very dry now, probably from the cologne, she reasoned. Maaya swallowed hard.

“What are we supposed to be learning here?” she mumbled.

“Whose waist is smaller.”

“Well?”

“Inconclusive.”

Maaya pushed off of Hyungwon dramatically and scrubbed her cheeks to hide any redness that might be lurking there. “Why do I keep falling for your very stupid stunts?”

“Because you like them,” he sneered. With that, he picked up the ball and chucked it as he had been all night, with callous indifference, and it rolled as it had all night, collapsing every last damn pin.

She growled. “That was just to throw me more off my game?”

“What game?”

Maaya stuck out her tongue at him.

Carefree as ever, Hyungwon stood at the end of the lane, looking at her with his newly sculpted body pulsing neon blue, his thumbs hooked in his pockets. The corner of his mouth twitched as he nodded back toward the racking pins. “Hey, you know what they call that?”

“A ringer?” she groused.

“A turkey. Three strikes in a row,” he informed proudly.

“You’re a turkey.”

“I am.”

And for second, Maaya actually thought she could see a striking plume of feathers puffed out behind him.

“More like a peacock. I’ve known you six years, and I’ve never heard you talk about bowling once. Where did you learn that?”

Hyungwon shrugged. “My dad’s a league bowler. He taught me as a kid.”

“So that’s where you learned this— this—” she stuttered as she waved at him, “this elegant ball-chucking pose?”

“You think it’s elegant?” His smirk was a full-blown smile now, the one that always made the little bread loaves in his cheek rise.

“Shut up. You know you look good.”

“You want me to show you how to bowl?”

“Thank you, but I think I can manage losing all on my own.”

Hyungwon cocked an eyebrow. “Just trying to help. Might be a cool party trick for your next boyfriend.”

“Guys aren’t impressed when a woman can bowl,” Maaya countered. “In fact, no one is.”

Except that wasn’t true and she knew it. Watching Hyungwon bowl like an ace, tossing the ball down the lane with his leg swept back to twist his long body like a wave about to crest at the shore… well, Maaya wasn’t just impressed. She was turned on, and that was more than a little ridiculous. It was bowling, for God’s sake.

“You’re right,” Hyungwon said with a smug grin that she both hated and loved in equal parts. “Show me what you got, Wantanabe."

Maaya stepped to the foul line, determined to crush the pins just by envisioning her opponent’s handsome face at the other end of the lane, but to absolutely nobody’s surprise, the ball zipped almost immediately into the gutter. She could feel Hyungwon’s smile as oily as the lanes.

“Fine,” she huffed. “One tip.”

“One tip’s not going to help. Quit complaining and just listen, okay?”

Hyungwon joined Maaya at the foul line and, right away, adjusted her form, guiding her right leg back in a cool swoop and situating her ball in her hand. She felt the imprint of his hand on her bare knee for far too long after he’d removed it.

“You want to twist your hand a bit toward the inside of your leg, okay?”

“But it’s pointing toward the gutter now,” she protested. “I want to stay out of the gutter.”

“That’s impossible for you and your dirty mind,” Hyungwon ribbed, but he was standing far too close to her to be making suggestive jokes. Maaya could feel his breath on her skin, and true to form, she was back in the gutter as he continued, “Just trust me. If we do everything right, the ball will hook back to the center. Okay, now, you want to kind of cradle the ball from underneath. Don’t point it down but hold it up just a little. Give it a little cushion. Bend your arm just a bit like a scoop. Keep the elbow soft. Too stiff and you’ll tweak the lines.”

His fingers danced about her arm, adjusting her wrist and her grip and then sliding up her forearm to position her just as he wanted. Maaya was trying to picture those pins, but instead, she was picturing him bending her limbs into all other kinds of positions that had nothing to do with the sport at hand.

“That’s good enough,” Hyungwon said as he appraised her. “Take a couple of swings like that, but don’t let the ball go just yet. Get a feel for the position, okay?”

She cleared her throat and focused on the foreign stance she found herself in, leg cocked behind her and arm weighted by an eight-pound ball.

“Looking good there, pretty lady,” he praised. “I want you to try and throw it now. Don’t worry too much about speed yet. Let’s see if we can get you to hook it as is.”

As best as she could muster, Maaya tossed the ball down the lane. She knew instantly that she had zero shot at ten pins, but as the ball rolled down the wood with a satisfactory whir-whir-whir, it dodged the gutter at the last second as though pulled by magnets toward the other edge of the lane. It clipped the last six pins on the left side, and she gasped.

“It worked!”

“Of course it did,” Hyungwon replied, and there it was again—the confidence. His smile was so cocksure and proud, that Maaya’s stomach flip-flopped. “Too bad your turn’s over, and it’s back to decimating you.”

Hyungwon promptly knocked over eight pins, which he rectified only a moment later with an easy spare, and went back to lounging with his wide arm and leg splay on the seat as he watched her line up her next frame.

This time, Maaya repeated her last throw with near duplicate precision, and the results were the same.

“See if you can throw a little faster,” Hyungwon shouted, and as soon as she did, one more pin came down. Not perfect, but seven points was the best frame she’d thrown all game.

Back and forth the pair went with Hyungwon demolishing her (though his three spares felt decidedly like gutter balls considering the sea of X’s on his line), but at least Maaya was showing some progress, including one precious spare of her own. She had always remembered bowling games dragging on forever, but since there were only two of them, one of whom only required one turn at basically every frame, the game had flown by, and she was surprised at how disappointed she was that it was over. Chalk that up to the fact that the only good-looking guy in the alley was the one she brought with her.

“Where are all the studs?” she wondered mockingly as she polished off her beer.

“Got here early on purpose,” Hyungwon mumbled as he had continued on the game board.

“Why? So you could showboat without competition?”

“Like I had any real competition,” he fired back.

Maaya assumed that was a joke at her expense and stuck her tongue out at him. “I’ve already shaken off that 247 to 71 loss. Now you've awoken the beast, Wonnie. I'm taking you down this round.”

“You want to play again?” he asked hopefully.

“You promised me cute guys. I’m playing until one shows up.”

Maaya couldn’t read her best friend’s face. One moment, he looked annoyed and the next pleased, but she figured it out as soon as he said, “Fine. Just remember, I won the challenge no matter how many more games we play.”

“Oh, you’re afraid you can’t repeat that fluke success, huh?”

The chide shook Hyungwon out of his weird mood, and they set up the next game immediately. He bought a fresh round of beers and big soft pretzel to share, and Maaya was grinning from ear to ear despite how sweaty the gross shoes were and how stupid she felt being the only woman in the alley in a skirt.

Mid-way through the second game, as promised, the alley started to fill up with younger people, though most of the arrivals were other couples or gangs of girls. That was until four cute guys walked in, the last one particularly striking with his full lips and cocky swagger. In his backwards ballcap and loose hoody, he was ridiculously attractive. And he was looking right back at her.

Maaya bit her lip.

A hand flashed in front of her face. She blinked, trying to remember what else was going on around her.

“Hello?” Hyungwon called. “Did you hear me? I asked if you know what four strikes in a row is called?”

“Oh, uh, um, an ostrich?”

“A four-bagger—what the hell has got you so interested over there?” her best friend complained and put his chin on her shoulder.

Maaya glowered at him out of the corner of her eye. “Guess you weren’t lying after all.”

“What are you talking about?”

“See that guy over there?” she said, nodding two lanes down toward the very handsome platinum blonde with deep dimples that promised sweetness and sharp eyes that hinted at devilry.

“Which guy?” Hyungwon asked as he shuffled closer behind her, arms around her waist now.

She scoffed at her friend and shook out of his grip. “Seriously, Wonnie? He’s literally staring at us. I thought you weren’t going to be my cooler tonight?”

He raised his hands in surrender and backed off. “Sorry, sorry! Old habits. I just thought a little jealousy might go a long way.”

Maaya rolled her eyes. “How is jealousy going to get me laid?”

Hyungwon’s eyes widened. “Laid? I didn't realize you were that hard up.”

“Why the hell do you think I wore those ridiculous heels tonight?” She gestured back toward the beautiful cobalt strappy stilettos she’d paired with her skirt before she tacked on, “Before I knew we were going bowling...”

“Yeah, it would be something to see you struggling to granny-bowl, bent over in that skirt and those heels...” As usual, Hyungwon drifted into one of his zone-outs, his mind a million miles away.

Maaya snapped her fingers a couple of times in front of his face, and his attention returned to her, or more specifically, her heels. It was her turn to poke him. “Hello? What?”

“I think you might have just unlocked something for me.”

“Granny-bowling in heels does it for you now? Lord, your mind's in the gutter, too, now, Wonnie, along with the rest of my balls.”

Hyungwon let out one of his gut-busting laughs that she loved so much, and Maaya sighed. She turned back to the new cute boy, happy to find him still watching. She shrugged at the stranger, let her ponytail out in as seductive a way as she could manage, and thumbed back at Hyungwon with an apologetic face. The other boy, to her great relief, grinned, his dimples deepening to epic proportions.

“Damn, he’s cute,” she muttered under her breath.

Hyungwon exhaled dramatically. “You told me my hat was stupid and pointless, and here you are, drooling over that joker’s.”

“It should be pointless, but it isn’t,” she said dreamily.

“Hey! We still have a game going on, you know,” Hyungwon interrupted, “and it’s your turn.”

“Eh, I’m dead to rites, aren’t I?”

“I mean, you are…”

“Go on, name your favor then, and we can call it quits, so I can go chat him up.”

“I know I promised to be your wingman, but I’m still your best friend,” reminded Hyungwon, “and I’m not ready to be the sacrificial lamb. Besides, I said I was going to name my favor later. It’s not late enough yet.”

Maaya stared down her best friend as she said, “Like I said, that reeks of Minhyuk energy.”

“Oh, come on, don’t lump me in with him again,” Hyungwon whined. “Is it that bad having to hang out with me?”

“Aw, Wonnie, I’m sorry,” she said as she squeezed his bicep, forgetting all about her moratorium on their PDA. “It’s just been a minute since I had a guy’s attention.”

“You have mine,” he asserted and took her opening to kiss the top of her head.

Well, that was new. Kisses weren’t in Hyungwon’s repertoire, even if it was chaste. Maaya felt color rush to her throat and chest, so she was quick to break for her ball.

Things returned to normal after that, and despite the flirty glances and playful smiles, she found her interest in the cute stranger waning with every frame, especially when she still had that weird sensation of Hyungwon’s lips in her hair.

Beer downed and game finally over, they crashed into the uncomfortable plastic seats and stared at the board proclaiming another thrashing, although this one gave Maaya a decidedly better showing at 110 to Hyungwon’s measlier showing of 224.

“Your lessons paid off, wise master,” she said as she finally slipped off the leather shackles on her feet in favor of her much more stylish strappy shackles.

Hyungwon watched her nimble fingers clasp the buckles behind her heels as he gulped the last swig of his beer. “Mm. You broke a hundred. I’m impressed.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he assured with a soft smile. “You’re a quick learner.”

“And you’re a good teacher. I admit it—I had a lot of fun.”

His smile broadened. “See what happens when you blindly trust me?”

“So, what now?” she probed. As Maaya mapped her best friend's face, she felt some strange, awkward twist in her stomach. This night hadn’t gone in any way she had expected, but its impending end made her throat dry.

“You mean is it cool now if you flirt with Dimples over there?”

No, that wasn’t exactly what she meant, she realized.

“I mean,” she said carefully, “if you’re not planning on calling in that favor…”

There was a gulf of silence between them filled only with the staccato tapping of Maaya’s heel. Eventually, she sighed and broke the dam. “Guess if you don’t know what you want—”

“I know what I want,” Hyungwon said firmly.

Why was his voice so low? Why was his gaze so dark?

Just then, his eyes flicked down the alley, and Maaya followed them to find the dimpled cutie approaching with his hands in his sweatpants pockets. Before he reached their lane though, Hyungwon stood up and offered his hand.

“I take it you’re calling in that favor?” she asked.

“Come with me,” was all her best friend said.

Behind Hyungwon’s towering frame, Dimples pulled up short, his confident smile fading as he watched her stand up and take her friend’s hand.

“Have a good night, buddy,” Hyungwon said as he tipped his head, now freshly dressed in his ballcap once again, at the stranger and slid his hand along the small of her back.

A shiver rippled through Maaya.

It wasn’t until they were outside the bowling alley that Hyungwon released her. Instantly, the temperature dropped ten degrees.

“Shit, it’s cold,” she grumbled as she rubbed her biceps for warmth.

“Here, you can wear my jacket,” he offered. He shucked the leather jacket from his shoulders and held it open behind her.

Maaya mumbled her thanks and slipped into it. The leather was already warm from Hyungwon’s body, and with his cologne still lingering, she felt weirdly wrapped up in him, like another hug he wouldn’t release.

They climbed back into her car, and she asked, “So, where to?”

“Back to my place.”

This was their usual pattern, yet Maaya’s fingers fumbled with the keys.

“You okay to drive?” Hyungwon asked.

“Of course,” she objected, and she was, but she wasn’t. She wasn’t anywhere near buzzed—she was just jittery. Weirdly, weirdly jittery, like three Red Bulls and a caffeine pill jittery.

The car mercifully roared to life then, and Maaya headed back toward campus. Beside her, Hyungwon vented about his midterms and the incoming subletter he was dreading taking on while he was out for the summer. His familiar lazy speech patterns inadvertently talked her off whatever ledge she was on, and once again, it was just two best friends on a night cruise.

All too soon, they reached his apartment building, and Maaya idled in the fire lane, unsure of what to do, but Hyungwon was quick to put her out of her misery. He shifted in his seat and raised an eyebrow at her. “Now, it’s time for that favor.”

His braggadocious look ruffled her feathers, and she groaned. “Aw, fuck, go ahead. Hit me.”

Whatever heinous task she figured he would foist on her went straight out the window.

“Come upstairs with me for a bit,” he said. “Like old times.”

Maaya recoiled in her seat. “How is that a favor? I hang out here all the time.”

“Not for months now. Anyway, it’s my favor, so just humor me.”

“Fine, weirdo.”

They entered his apartment, and with the way he was carrying on, Maaya half-expected some kind of surprise party or dramatic announcement, like Hyungwon was moving back to Korea or something. But it was just his usual place, if remarkably cleaner than usual. She took her seat at the end of the couch and smoothed her skirt over her slender thighs.

“Well, you got me up here, so that's the end of the favor,” she said with the smug feeling of outsmarting him. “Hope you used it wisely.”

Hyungwon was already in the kitchen, ballcap tossed on the counter and head in the refrigerator. “Want a beer?”

Her knee-jerk reaction was to say no, but something told her to take it, so she nodded. They popped the tabs in unison, and both took a long draft from their cans, each watching the other.

“Why do you keep looking me like that?” he asked.

There was nothing unusual about his tone which made the whole thing much more unusual.

“Wonnie, what am I doing here?”

“Hanging out.”

“Weren't we already hanging out?”

“Yeah.”

“I don't get it,” Maaya continued, feeling more and more suspicious by the second. “How is this a favor?”

He shrugged a shoulder, took another long drink, and then sucked the lingering brew from his plump bottom lip. “It seemed like you wanted to leave, and I still wanted to hang out.”

Maaya blinked at him. It was such an easy answer in addition to being an honest one. That was one of the things she always liked best about Hyungwon. He was a straight shooter when there weren't many of those around.

Well, it was his favor, so if that was how he wanted to squander it, it was fine with her. She loved hanging out with her best friend, now more than ever. At least it ensured she wouldn’t be doing something boring like helping him with homework or something uncomfortable like scrambling for a plus one to double-date with him—she especially hated that favor.

His sleeves were still rolled up to his shoulders, and Maaya used her beer can in combination with her bangs to help disguise her obvious staring at his toned muscles. Even when the guy was making minimum effort, he owned every room he walked into.

“Aren’t you cold?” she noted. “Your place is an icebox. What gives?”

Hyungwon shook his head. “It’s cheaper.”

“The life of a broke student, huh?”

He mumbled noncommittally before he disappeared into his bedroom and then returned with a big blue hoody. He tossed it at her, and Maaya nearly dropped her beer.

“Aw,” she whined, “I kind of like the leather.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to hear the crinkle all night long. It’s too loud in here.”

Maaya grinned just before she folded and unfolded her arms several times, delighting in the way her best friend twitched at the noisy squeal at her elbows. Hyungwon glowered at her, and with a final laugh, she traded out the jacket for the sweatshirt. It wasn’t warmed from him like she’d enjoyed in the leather, but at least it still smelled like him, this one more familiar with that same fabric refresher instead of the fancy concoction that had muddied her brain every time she’d been close to him tonight.

“Okay then,” she said, “now that you've got me up here, what are we going to do?”

“Movie?”

For some reason, Maaya was a little disappointed. They’d watched movies here hundreds of times. After all the hoopla, she realized she’d been secretly holding out for something grander.

“Yeah, okay, movie. I take it since you won, you’re picking?”

“Damn straight.”

As she settled in, Hyungwon scrounged through the cupboards for snacks and tossed them onto the coffee table before plopping down on the opposite end of the couch. He obviously had a movie in mind because he navigated straight to the action section and queued one up.

“I’ve been wanting to see this one!” Maaya trilled. “Didn’t realize it was streaming.”

“I know,” he replied before he tossed back a handful of chips and hit play.

The night was on autopilot again, and Maaya was happy. She sank into the softness of Hyungwon’s hoody and got lost in the ridiculous banter of a charming himbo muse and his reluctant artist. Before they’d even made it a half hour in, she noticed her friend staring at her instead of the screen.

“What?” she griped. “You picked the movie. I didn’t.”

“Why are you all scrunched up over there? Do I smell?”

“No!” she objected instantly. “I mean, yeah, you smell really good tonight actually. I just—”

“Okay, good. So, why are you sitting so far away? It's weird.”

It was weird. They cuddled all the time without a second thought, yet here she was, curled up in the corner like her best friend had cooties.

Maaya burrowed a little deeper into the hoody before her feet gingerly inched across his lap. Thanks to her foolish choice of skirt, her legs were cold and inescapably naked, but her friend was quick to remedy that with a blanket, though he promptly betrayed her by slipping his hand under it and rubbing her shins.

“You’re stiff as a board,” he commented. “Did you put too much effort into losing tonight?”

Maaya dug her heel into his thigh. “You’re lucky I took my shoes off, mister. Shut up and watch the movie.”

Hyungwon obliged for a few minutes, eyes on the screen and hands on her shins, but before long, his thumbs were stroking the side of her calf, and he was shifting restlessly under her. The longer it went on, the more irritated Maaya was.

“Stop it,” she warned with a glare from the corner of her eye.

“I can’t help it I’ve got long legs.”

“You’re the one who wanted me to sit like this,” she reminded.

“I want to lay down,” Hyungwon insisted, though it was a borderline whine.

“Floor’s open.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Wow, you are really bitter about me decimating you.”

“Decimating? Wow. You’re cold-blooded tonight, Chae Hyungwon, not to mention awfully cocky for a guy who’s still five games back in our challenges. And anyway, maybe I’m not bitter about losing so much as I’m bitter about you yet again being my cooler.”

Hyungwon blinked, first in confusion and then exasperation. “What? With that guy at the bowling alley?”

“Uh, yeah. That was why you were taking me out tonight, remember?”

“He wasn’t your type,” Hyungwon said flippantly. His fingers were tapping rhythmically along her leg now like a librarian overseeing his domain.

“A cute boy with an even cuter smile? No, you’re right, not my scene at all."

Her best friend sighed, though it was more like a growl, and stabbed the pause button on the remote. “Why are you always rushing from one relationship to another, Maaya? I swear, you’re never single for more than five minutes."

Her brow knitted. “So?”

“So, I’m not ready to give you up again so soon.”

His hand tightened around her leg and Maaya sat up. She stared at her best friend’s profile. Hyungwon really had the most striking silhouette. He was tall and lean, with a strong neck leading down into a pronounced collar bone. In spite of his naturally pouty lips and smooth jaw, his button nose and soft cheeks made his otherworldly beauty accessible.

“You start dating that guy, and it’s goodbye for another three months,” Hyungwon continued bitterly. “Just the random meet-up at a bar every other week before you go home to Dimples while I finish my soju in silence. So I’ll start dating someone, too, just so I’m not lonely, and you’ll break up and so will I, and then it’ll start all over again. Why is it never just us, Maaya?”

Dumbfounded, her only response was to look to her hands, curled limply in her lap. That had been their pattern for years, but somehow, she’d never thought to put words to it like that.

On a whim, Maaya leaned forward and kissed her friend’s cheek, and Hyungwon snapped all of his attention to her. Their faces were closer than they’d ever been. She could smell the beer on his lips, malty and familiar. She smiled gently at him as she tugged a tress at the nape of his neck, just long enough for twirling (though she reined in that urge at the last second).

“I’m sorry, okay?” she said with every fiber of honesty in her being. “Let’s just finish the movie and have fun together. That’s my favorite anyway.”

Hyungwon smiled in the way only he could—illuminating and inviting and completely infectious. “Sounds good, but maybe not in here? I’m literally so uncomfortable.”

“I don’t see a movie theater or den lying around, Wonnie.”

“My room has a TV.”

Maaya’s stomach bubbled.

She’d been in Hyungwon’s room before, though never to watch a movie. She’d helped him choose outfits for dates or watched him game on his computer or, God help her, clean up when his parents came into town, but never to lay beside him in his bed.

She wrung her hands and tried to pretend it wasn’t nerves, but after what felt more like a date night than just a good time with a good friend, it was impossible. Those buried feelings, the ones from years ago that had sparked from the first moment she’d laid eyes on Hyungwon, had been unearthed as catastrophically as ancient ruins after an earthquake.

Maaya didn’t want to go to his bed—not because she didn’t trust her best friend, but because she didn’t trust herself.

“I’ll fall asleep in there,” she protested.

“I promise I’ll keep you awake,” he assured before he whisked off the blanket and stood up, knocking her bare legs to the floor. Hyungwon offered his hand, which she took as he pulled her upright, and this handhold felt like even more of a covenant than the one at the bowling alley. Maaya was short, but this close in his shadow, she felt impossibly tiny.

“Yeah right, you’ve never been able to last more than ten minutes awake horizontal.”

For a second, a spark ignited in his eyes. “I think my ex-girlfriends would disagree with that.”

“Gross.”

“I’m gross, am I?” he pouted, those lips of his far too full and flushed.

“Fishing for compliments now? Fine, fine, not you, and you know it, but your girlfriends sure as shit were. I don’t want to picture it.”

Hyungwon stared at her from underneath the tip of his brow. “I like to think I don’t date swamp creatures, Maaya.”

“Not in looks but definitely in personality,” she retorted.

“This from the girl who dated Vernon.”

She bark-laughed and stared pointedly at her friend. “Again with the Vernon hate? You know, only one of us dated someone who declared grades were based solely on bra cup size and a willingness to go commando under skirts.”

Hyungwon’s lips screwed up into a tight bow as the memory of his ex hit him. “Forgot about that.”

“Yeah,” said Maaya, “well, I didn’t.”

Something in his gaze shifted—deepened—as she found him peering down at her now. “No, you definitely didn’t…”

With a toss of her hair for a distraction, she shifted focus. “Okay, if you really want to lay down, we can watch in your room, but I expect you to stop distracting us from finishing the movie. I don’t want to miss when they find the lost city.”

“You just want her to hook up with the himbo,” Hyungwon challenged.

Maaya stuck out her tongue at him. “Can’t it be both?”

They headed toward the bedroom with her leading the charge because it was safer to take the initiative rather than let Hyungwon lead her. That scenario felt… different.

It was unexpectedly clean in his room. By nature, Hyungwon was not a neat boy—he always had a million more things he was interested in doing, even if most of it was just daydreaming as he stared off into space—but today, the dressers had been organized, the dust had been cleared, and even the bed had been made.

“Did Kihyun come over and clean?” Maaya teased.

Hyungwon was beside her now, surveying the space along with her. “Yeah right, like I’d let that miscreant into my room. No, it was just time to clean up.”

“You’re just full of surprises today, aren’t you?”

With only a shrug, Hyungwon dove onto his bed with a grateful sigh as his face sunk into the pillow.

“I’m home,” he murmured before he flopped onto his back and patted the bed beside him.

Maaya laughed. “I never see you happier than when you’re laying down.”

She was so distracted by his silver fillings-showcasing grin that she hadn’t realized his tee had come untucked and ridden up his tummy, revealing another little bullet point of why her best friend was the most stunning man in the world—a very cute, very edible freckle right beside his hip.

Either Hyungwon didn’t notice or he didn’t care about his shirt. Instead, he tucked his hands behind his head, letting the hem rise even higher to unearth his navel next.

“You coming?” he asked.

“Bossy,” Maaya retorted as she took a seat on the opposite side of the bed. She settled in as naturally as she could with her impossibly attractive best friend so close and let the excitement of the movie ease her fears.

Hyungwon’s mattress was ridiculously comfortable, as she should have expected from a man who would otherwise sleep 90% of his day away if he didn’t have to deal with the obligations of university and life. The longer the movie dragged on, the plusher the mattress got and the more accommodating the pillow became. Maaya sank deeper and deeper in it until, the next thing she knew, a wicked pinch in her side shot her straight up at the waist like a jack-in-the-box.

“What the hell was that!” she shouted.

Hyungwon shrugged. “You were snoring.”

“Oh my god, I was not.”

“You were. I was just fulfilling my end of the bargain. Told you I’d keep you awake.”

“Hey, smartass, you didn’t keep me awake. I fell asleep,” Maaya amended.

“So, you admit it! You know, if you were closer, I might not have had to resort to such aggression.”

She glowered at him but wriggled over all the same until their shoulders were brushing. “Happy?”

But Hyungwon closed the remaining gap so their sides were now fused to one another. With a flash of a smile, he said, “Happier.”

“You are very demanding tonight, aren’t you?”

“I am, and I demand that you snuggle me because I’m getting cold.”

“That's because you’re getting sleepy, which is exactly what I told you would happen. You always get cold when you're tired.”

“Not tired,” Hyungwon insisted through a yawn. “Just come here. I’m getting annoyed.”

She laughed. Annoying her best friend had always been a favorite pastime, and it was especially rewarding after a night of being nothing but annoyed by him first, but it paled in comparison to snuggling with him. Maaya loved that better than anything. She cuddled with him as she always had, head on his chest and arm around his waist, but this time it was different. Maybe it always had been? They were on his bed now, not the couch, and her mind was bombarded with a hundred different thoughts that she’d figured she’d long since trained herself to fight off.

“Mm,” Hyungwon murmured, “that feels good.”

Maaya hadn't even realized the hand over his waist had been stroking his side, but even more dangerously, it had found the little swath of skin between his jeans and his shirt where she could drag her nails lazily back and forth. This was different, too. Cuddling, they'd done hundreds of times; petting, they had not.

Which was why, despite what she had started, Maaya was surprised when Hyungwon’s hand curled under her and into the small of her back to start rubbing. It was chaste and definitely more respectful than her own hand, but it was new and it was wonderful. His heat was gentle and his motions hypnotic, and she slipped farther and farther under their spell.

The movie wore on, but it may as well have been in Farsi for as well as Maaya could follow along. She was focused solely on the way her best friend’s hand swept up and down her spine. The longer Hyungwon did it, the higher his hoody bunched up, taking her tank top with it. Every sweep of raw contact made her heart clench in time with her thighs until, at last, his hand stopped so it could bury itself casually under her shirt as though it was used to resting on her naked back.

He didn’t move a muscle, and she figured he’d had fallen asleep after all, but when she rolled her head on his firm pectoral, Maaya found him staring at her. He didn’t say a word, but the black cast in his gaze intensified.

“I thought you’d fallen asleep,” she fumbled.

“I couldn’t if I wanted to,” Hyungwon replied.

Maaya cleared her throat. Her fingers dug a little into his side, and he hummed again.

“Is this weird?” she asked suddenly.

“Does it feel weird?”

“No, it feels nice.”

“Good. All I want is to make you feel good.”

Hyungwon left it at that, and Maaya laid there frozen on his chest. The movie was winding toward its climax, but with every passing second they held each other, she was winding up. Scenarios swam in her head, each one more unlikely than the next, though they all ended with her sweaty and screaming his name underneath him.

“This is nice,” Hyungwon said out-of-the-blue, and to underline his point, he rubbed her back again.

Maaya didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

His hand stilled again, and after a few minutes, he shifted underneath her. She didn’t move because she was afraid to. She didn’t want to let this stolen moment go. But the end was inevitable just as the movie’s, she knew that, especially when she felt him prop up onto his elbows and crane his head forward. The TV clicked off, and the room darkened exponentially.

“You asleep?” Hyungwon whispered.

Asleep? How could she sleep with the promise of his words still buzzing in her brain?

All I want is to make you feel good…

Reluctantly, Maaya rolled a little to the side and propped up just enough to catch her best friend’s eye. Maybe there was something in her face that made him worry because his hand dropped from her back and tugged her shirt down.

“You don’t like it,” he concluded after a deep sigh. It was the most disappointed sound she’d ever heard from him.

Maaya blinked, stunned.

She liked it. She liked it way too much, more than she was probably allowed to. She liked him way too much, and it was all painfully, irreversibly apparent now.

She loved him—outright loved him. Maybe better than anyone ever.

But the weight of this knowledge was crushing. Even though tonight had felt flirty and sometimes borderline romantic, affection wasn’t anything unusual for them. The problem was that at some point in the evening, “normal friend stuff” had become “normal couple stuff” in her mind, and Maaya couldn’t un-ring that bell.

She loved Hyungwon—madly—and that was that.

Alone in his bed, with no random hot boy to distract her and no roommate to interrupt them, it was a paralyzing revelation.

“Hyungwon…” she said slowly. She wasn’t really sure what she wanted to say. All she knew was that she needed his attention.

Their eyes connected, and she felt the hand return to her back only to grip her unexpectedly.

Hyungwon sat up, too, just a bit higher, staring down at her with an unreadable gaze. Maybe he was waiting for her to finish her thought, but words had gummed up in her mouth.

Gently, he pushed her back by the shoulder until Maaya was flat on the bed looking up into his magnetic face. Everything about the way he was studying her was intense. She felt small and helpless and terrified and eager all at once. Could he read her thoughts? She felt terribly transparent, not just her mind but her heart.

Hyungwon gauged her eyes as well as her breath, and slowly, he descended.

And then his lips met hers.

Maaya couldn’t move.

Hyungwon was kissing her.

Every sense funneled to her lips where her best friend bathed them in soft kisses that grew hungrier with each passing sweep of swelling muscle. When his top lip tugged her bottom one into his mouth, she gasped and undulated beneath him, and suddenly, Hyungwon stopped.

“Do you want this? Do you want me?” His forehead touched hers as his eyes closed. His next words were a whisper, dancing across her skin. “Say yes. Please.”

Maaya wanted to ask why—was he just bored or horny or lonely—but she couldn't risk it. She didn't want him to change his mind. She didn't want to lose his touch—or him. If this was her only chance to know her best friend as a lover, she was going to take it.

“Hyungwon…” Her hands held his face as she stroked his cheek with her thumb. If she wasn’t holding him, it might have felt like she was dreaming. Softly, she continued, “I want you. I want you so much.”

He flashed a smile before he captured her lips again and entwined their tongues in a sensual embrace. His mouth was slow and measured, filled with all her favorite things about him—his gentleness, his sincerity, his creativity. Hyungwon had a way of kissing her that felt suspiciously like he was savoring her, and it made her brain fuzzy and her heart erratic.

The tip of his middle finger stroked her neck as he kissed her, igniting nerve endings Maaya didn’t know she had. Between his simple touches and his leisurely kisses, she was putty stretched thin and pliable beneath him. He could ask anything of her, and she would say yes.

But Hyungwon said nothing. The only sounds in the room were the tangle of their tongues and her airy moans as Maaya got lost in his mouth.

Though he was focused on her lips, every part of her felt like it was straining up to meet him. Her body called out for his exploration. Her nipples chafed against her bra and her stomach itched inside the fabric of her shirt while her sex throbbed against its lacy cage.

She wanted to run to the bathroom to freshen up, if nothing else to cover up how she’d soaked through her underwear from just some kissing, but what if she came back and the mood had passed? Maaya wouldn’t risk that for all her pride. Maybe it wouldn’t come to that anyway. Maybe she could—

And just like that, Hyungwon’s hand wandered up under the hoody to grope her breasts over the cups of her bra. His hands were huge and kneaded her flesh expertly until she was squirming on the mattress.

Their lips broke apart just so he could find the rim of her jaw, which he christened with a dozen hungry kisses, before he found her earlobe and nibbled it. Something about the tingle there made the room spin.

“This feels very high school,” Maaya giggled, hiding her face in the crook of her elbow.

“You don’t like it?”

“No, ah,” she gasped as he rolled a lace covered nipple between his fingers, “it feels great. It’s just very horny teenager.”

“Cut me a break,” he mumbled as he sucked a little patch just beneath her jaw. “You wouldn’t let me get near you in high school. I have to make up for lost time.”

“Wouldn’t let you—Hyungwon, you were the one who wasn’t interested—ah!”

His teeth scraped along the sensitive skin at the base of her throat, and she writhed in his hands. “Don’t argue. It’s very annoying when I’m planning to get you off.”

The next thing Maaya knew, both tops were pushed up to her shoulders, her bra cup had been wrenched down, and her nipple was in Hyungwon’s mouth. He guided her hand from its knot in the comforter to the back of his head, where she only too happily threaded her fingers through his soft hair and clasped him to her breast. With every glance of her nails against his scalp, he purred, and the vibrations rippled throughout her body straight down to her core.

Maaya looked down and found Hyungwon blissed out, eyes closed and face set so contently as his tongue worked secret magic on her. This was really her best friend—the person she trusted most in her life—consuming her bit by bit as she had only ever allowed herself to fantasize about when drunk because sober felt too impossible. She felt so special, so loved, and her heart felt so full, she thought it might burst. She arched deeper into his mouth, and he opened greedily to take more. The view was as delicious as the sensation, and it was making her feel foggier and foggier.

“Feels so good, Wonnie,” she murmured. “You feel so good.”

His only answer was to pluck her other breast from its cup so he could pinch and tug her other nipple. The pleasure doubled and sent little fireflies of ecstasy flaring throughout her body. As soon as the other peak had pebbled to a sharp ache, Hyungwon switched to it, and an ice bath of air bombarded her other abandoned nipple. Her gasp filled the room, and he smiled around her.

“Want more?” he asked, teasing—always teasing.

“Of course, you jerk. You really know—”

Maaya couldn’t even finish her sentence before his palm slithered down her soft belly to the hem of her skirt. He grabbed a handful of the offending garment and yanked it up enough to bare her thighs. His fingertips danced along the edge of her underwear, each stroke sending her breaths higher.

The back of his middle finger glanced along her clothed seam at last and beckoned forth a tremendous moan from her.

“That sounds so pretty,” Hyungwon said in the same drunk slur she'd heard at dozens of parties over the years, though she knew it had nothing to do with that last beer. “I want more, too.”

His middle finger hooked the seat of her underwear so he could have just enough play to tease her entrance, but instead, thanks to her obscene lust, he slipped right in to the knuckle. She screamed and arched, hips and all, off the bed.

“Shit! Sorry! God, Maaya, you’re so wet,” he fumbled and tried to withdraw, but her hand gripped his wrist and held him deep in her core.

“Don’t,” she begged through her heavy panting. “Don’t go. Feels too good.”

Maaya couldn’t remember ever seeing Hyungwon’s eyes absolutely black. He nodded and leaned up until their lips met in a fresh kiss. As she got lost, her hand loosened around his wrist, and once it did, no matter how distracting his kiss was, all of her attention funneled to his finger now gliding in and out between her legs. She whimpered, and his other hand tightened in her hair.

After only a couple strokes, Hyungwon added a second finger that had the woman beneath him twitching while he insisted on torturing her with deeper and deeper kisses. Maaya was mired in a haze of sensuality. She was limp with bliss and eager to receive all of his attentions for as long as he was willing to give them. The deeper his fingers delved, the harder her eyes rolled back in her head.

Her hands abandoned him to grip the bed, which felt like her only real tether to reality at this point. It wasn’t just that things felt too good—it was that Hyungwon was the one doing them to her. And, yeah, with her clothes still on and the lights down low, it all felt very stolen-moment-in-her-parents’-basement kind of naughty, but that had always been something Maaya had only dreamed of with him.

“So wet for me,” he mumbled against her lips.

“Yes,” she whined, and Hyungwon took the opportunity to storm her mouth anew with his silky tongue. Urgently, her arms wrapped around his neck to pull him flush against her, and she was rewarded with the press of his denim-encased hard-on scraping her bare thigh. She rubbed her leg against him, and Hyungwon grumbled, his fingers hooking dangerously into her greedy walls.

“I can't stop kissing you,” he mumbled between each press of her lips to his.

“I can't stop kissing you,” she volleyed right back.

For a second, they broke apart to share a little laugh but then slipped immediately back to kissing. Once again, Hyungwon pulled back, his forehead resting against hers as he caught her smoky gaze. “But I’d rather make you cum for me.”

“Huh—oh!” she managed as his tongue suddenly trailed down the column of her throat to her breast again, where he lavished her with kisses before, eventually, taking her back into the warm recess of his mouth. She lifted her head just enough to kiss his brow as he suckled, and he stopped instantly. The softness in his eyes gave way to hardness in an instant.

Newly focused, he continued kissing her torso, tonguing her navel once before nibbling at her hip bone at last. Though his fingers continued their determined thrusting, Hyungwon pulled back just long enough to place a quick kiss to her clit. It was short and sweet but just long enough to send a shockwave of lust and maybe a bit of embarrassment shivering through Maaya.

“Oh fuck, hold on,” she whimpered as goosebumps prickled along her arms and legs, “wait.”

“I’ve waited long enough,” Hyungwon replied in his gravelly voice. “I need you to cum, princess, because I don’t think I can wait any longer to be inside you.”

“Hyungwon—”

But he cut her off with his freshly licked thumb, which took immediately to polishing her aching little rosebud.

“Shit!” hissed Maaya. “Feels too good.”

She twitched on the bed, her hands grabbing for anything to anchor her against Hyungwon’s diligent onslaught. One hand reached back and closed around the top of the headboard while the other clutched her lover’s shoulder. He sucked in a breath as her nails dug in, but she couldn’t help it.

“Wonnie—oh my god!” Her voice plummeted several octaves when the pads of his questing fingers glanced over a spot so sensitive, her body curled in on itself against the pleasure. Maaya had cum before from foreplay, but this was different. She’d never felt anything so intense, and for some reason, her body wanted to run from it. She writhed beneath him, but Hyungwon’s hand pressed firmly onto her mound as the filthy wet noises crescendoed between her thighs.

“Oh god, wait,” she begged frantically, “wait!”

Hyungwon slowed but didn’t stop, his fingers idling over the center of her ecstasy. His eyes were thin and black, and his mouth, so often bright with a smile just for her, fixed in a stern line. “Do you really want me to stop?”

“No! Please, no! I’m just—”

“Don't be scared,” he said in a deep, soothing voice as his fingers picked up speed. “I want to give you this before I give you my cock. Let go for me, Maaya.”

Cock.

The word tumbling out of those swollen, nude lips was as tantalizing as the secret still confined to those painfully tight jeans. At this point, she’d do anything for it. For him.

“Oh god, yes,” she moaned, and Hyungwon kissed the inside of her thigh to seal the moment.

Faster and faster, he worked her inside and out, and her body reeled under him. Her hips bucked and her feet burrowed into the sheets and her shoulders lifted from the mattress as the most blinding climax of her life consumed her. Maaya cried out between big, hitching gulps of breath. It felt like eternity but also just a second as her body went rigid with ecstasy before she crashed back onto the bed.

Pins and needles tickled her arms and legs while streams of whimpers and half-sobs reduced her to nothing but nerves and a handful of dulled senses. She felt her lover’s fingers slip out of her, followed by an embarrassing amount of arousal, but she was too numb to will her legs to close.

Hyungwon pushed up and laid beside her, kissing her cheek and smoothing her bangs back from her face as he asked, “You okay?”

At first, Maaya was too dumbstruck by the twilight of sensations pulsing through her to respond, but all of a sudden, a laugh, small at first but growing delirious by the second, bubbled up in her throat. The next thing she knew, Hyungwon was laughing with her, too.

“So you’re good?” he asked as their laughter subsided. “I was good?”

Suddenly stone sober, Maaya rolled onto her side and looked into her best friend’s rich eyes. She put a hand on his cheek and cradled him. The urge to kiss him again overwhelmed, and she planted her lips on his. With every sweep of their mouths against one another’s, it was growing devastatingly familiar, and she knew that no matter what happened after this, she could never go back to being just friends.

Eventually, Maaya forced herself to pull back long enough to say, “You’re perfect. Best I’ve ever had.”

He smiled fleetingly before his features hardened.

Much to her dismay, he hopped off the bed, way too far away for her Hyungwon-addicted brain to tolerate. She followed to the edge and swung her legs over, too, but he shook his head.

“I’m coming back,” he promised.

“Not fast enough.”

With a chuckle, he shucked off his t-shirt, revealing a very different chest than Maaya remembered from their high school pool parties. She knew it—she’d seen evidence of it all night—but naked was a revelation. Hyungwon was lean as always, but he was broad now, too, with definition from chest to hip that made her mouth feel like cotton. His shoulders had grown knotty with muscles that flexed down into the beautiful biceps he’d been teasing all night. As her eyes devoured the tapering lines of his abs under the hem of his jeans, she spotted that tiny star of a bullseye at his hip, and nothing could keep her finger from trembling toward it.

“How is there so much about you I still don’t know?” she asked, mesmerized as she pressed that cute coffee-colored mole. Her nail scudded down from there on its new quest, and Hyungwon shivered.

“Hm?”

“The bowling? These muscles? This little freckle? I just want to eat it.” Maaya pitched forward and dragged her teeth over it to his excited hum.

Seeing so much of him naked, it reminded Maaya that she was still fully clothed. She whisked his hoody along with her shirt over her head and unclasped her bra without another thought, casting both into the corner of the room with a domesticity that delighted her. She wanted that to be her new corner, the one where she would always pile up her dirty laundry until they could trundle down to the laundromat together.

Hyungwon followed her gaze from those discarded clothes back her face. He looked pleased, and she stared back up at him adoringly. He let out a little breath and smiled. His finger hooked under her chin, and as his thumb traced over her bottom lip, she popped the button at his fly. But the moment her attention shifted back to his jeans, Maaya felt every nerve in her body vibrating with exhilaration.

It was tough rolling the denim over his hips and ass considering how they’d practically been painted on, and the suspense was slowly killing her. As soon as they were mid-thigh, Maaya dragged her palm over the straining cock in his underwear and sighed at how powerful his desire for her was. She could hear her own excited breaths even above Hyungwon’s as she traced the outline of his manhood again.

“Wow, Wonnie, you’re so hard,” she marveled, this time gripping his bulge at his base. She rubbed him a few more times before he knocked away her hands and shoved down both his jeans and his underwear, leaving him fully on display for her.

Maaya was stunned—not just by his body or his incredible cock, but by the sheer fact that, at least for tonight, Hyungwon was going to be hers. It was overwhelming. It was thrilling. It was impossible.

She gripped his thighs and savored the way his muscles contracted beneath them. Automatically, his hips bucked closer to her face, and her hand shot to his hilt so she could steady him before she swallowed his hardness, but Hyungwon jerked back, and she groaned.

“Oh, come on! Let me—”

“No,” he said firmly.

“I want to,” Maaya insisted.

“Well, I can’t.”

Before she even had time to be confused, he took her by the wrists and pulled her free of his length. He pushed her back and fell with her onto the bed with a shared grunt. She was effectively pinned beneath him, his warm chest pressed to hers. Her nipples, hard from the cool air as much as expectation, scraped against his ribs as his lips found hers again. It was their most passionate kiss yet, full of tongue and breath and the searing awareness of his cock grating the inside of her thigh.

Maaya wasn’t used to Hyungwon being so authoritative, and it made her weak.

“Wonnie—”

When he pulled up, his eyelids were low like curtains drawn on indecency. Through his ragged panting, he ordered, “Move back up to the pillows.”

“Hurry, Maaya,” he rasped. “Fuck, please.”

She had heard him tired before, cranky lots of times, and playful even more often than that, but she had never heard him desperate.

She scrambled back as instructed and lifted her hips, ready to remove the rest of her clothing, but Hyungwon shook his head again.

“Forget it,” he said. “No time.”

He tossed up the ruffle of her skirt and shoved aside the seat of her underwear again, so he could slide the head of his cock against her entrance.

“A—Already?” Maaya gasped.

“Can’t wait another second,” he said and pushed inside all the way to his base.

“Oh, fuck! Oh, Hyungwon! God, yes. Yes!”

Her legs locked behind his back, and her hands wrenched the fitted sheet off the corner of the bed as the inescapable warmth of fullness consumed her. His face nestled in the shelter of her neck as he puffed and groaned.

“Hey,” she said, reaching for his cheek, “you okay?”

“Yeah, you’re just better than I ever imagined.”

“You imagined fucking me?” she teased, though the sexiness of that notion made her walls flare around him. Hyungwon hissed.

“Yeah, and making love to you and everything in between.”

Everything shifted then.

If Maaya thought this was just an impetuous fling or fuckbuddies scenario unfolding, that illusion vanished as Hyungwon rocked forward, his length begging to settle as deep as it could go inside her. He kissed her softly again, his hand finding hers and weaving his fingers through it.

They made out like that for a while, bodies fused and desires ebbing into one another. Maaya could feel every twitch and quiver his cock made inside her. She might have been the one holding onto him, but Hyungwon had totally possessed her.

Every time he threatened to pull out, a little cry escaped her. Her body fought to hold onto him for as long as it could—for forever. Her core constricted hungrily, and he snarled.

“Don’t do that,” he warned against her lips.

“What?”

“I’m really trying to last here, but you’re making it so hard, princess.”

“Can’t help it. Feels so right.”

Hyungwon grunted and kissed Maaya in time with his faster strokes. It was messy and feral and so frenzied that they were both gasping for breath in between, but it was all she’d ever wanted. Her legs fell wide open now, her invitation for him to use her as much as he could, and he didn’t miss his chance.

Hyungwon lifted off her, and her whole body froze where his sweaty skin had once been ironed. One of his hands grabbed her breast and the other clamped to her waist so he could rut frantically into her.

Maaya might have been limp on the mattress, paralyzed by pleasure and mesmerized by bliss, but it made it all the easier to catalogue every intimate detail of the man above her. The smoothness of his thrusts, the possession in his grip, the intensity in his eyes as his lips pressed together in exertion. Hyungwon was flawless, and she was so very lucky.

He tugged her hips higher onto his thighs to work her deeper and deeper, and it fueled the vision-whitening blaze in her belly.

“Need you, Wonnie,” she pleaded. “So close.”

She gripped his hand at her chest and held on for dear life, which sent him tumbling back onto her. He pushed her one leg back, deepening the fold at her belly, and he shifted so good inside her, that Maaya moaned loud enough to rattle the mirror propped on his dresser.

The room was perfumed with sweat and sex and pheromones that clouded out the world beyond the two of them and knotted them tighter together. Her hands were everywhere now—in his hair, on his neck, around his back. As deep as he was inside her, she wanted him closer. She wanted him always.

“So tight,” Hyungwon hissed next to her ear. “Please cum. Cum for me. Wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

There it was, the cocktail of sinful words Maaya thought she’d never hear from him. Coupled with the crush of his hips against her sex and the hot velvet of his length stoking the fire inside her, she unwound.

It was the quietest climax of her life, not because it wasn’t good but because it had never been better. Maaya was overcome—with lust, with happiness.

With love.

She rose up beneath him, muscles rigid with the electricity of release. Her walls seized around him as she hiccupped out pathetic gasps. Her hands shot to the pillows and crumpled the feathers as she convulsed with the never-ending shockwaves of release.

When at last she came down, Maaya lay there, body thumping up the mattress with Hyungwon’s every energetic thrust. It might have been through fuzzy, hooded eyes, but she watched the rivulets of sweat trickle from his brow to his jaw as the skin there furrowed with his panicked exertion. His fat lips twitched, and the cords in his throat tightened as he whined low and desperate into her shoulder.

“I’m gonna— I’m gonna—”

He whimpered against her throat as his hips skipped irregularly now. Maaya knew what was coming. In her shell of a voice, she asked, “Look at me, Wonnie.”

His eyes met hers for a mere second before they shot down between her legs.

“Oh god!” he cried as he pulled out and showered her skin and lace in hot pearl. He tried his hardest to meet her gaze again, but in the throes of climax, his eyes rolled back just before they screwed shut. His lips curled into the most luscious snarl as a wretched whine echoed in the bedroom. It had to be the sexiest fucking thing Maaya had ever heard in her life.

Hyungwon was still pumping his dick and cumming as she tilted his chin up and devoured that snarl along with every gasp and twitch of oversensitivity.

A moment later, he was too drained to do anything but heave with breath. He laid on top of her, face in the hollow of her throat, sealing them together with a lacquer of sweat and cum. She could feel a tear welling at the corner of her nose, and she blinked hard and fast to hide it, but it was no use.

“Did I hurt you? Shit, I’m so sorry,” Hyungwon worried frantically as his thumb blotted the trail down her cheek. He rushed to lift himself off her, but Maaya gripped his forearms and shook her head frantically.

“No, not at all.”

“You regret it, don’t you?” he realized, his whole body deflating before her eyes as he sank into the mattress beside her. “I shouldn’t have risked us. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Hyungwon, no,” Maaya said firmly. “Don’t you dare be sorry.”

He swallowed hard. “It’s just—you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“All night, huh?” she laughed awkwardly.

“Mm, more like since high school.”

“You’re full of it. Like you’d wait that long.”

Hyungwon pressed his lips together as he considered. “Seriously. But you were always dating someone, and by the time I’d give up and settle for someone comfortable, you’d break up and I’d be committed. Luck was never on my side.”

“Baloney,” she scoffed.

He thrust out his hand in front of him and counted off: “Vernon? Mandy. Eric? Yuji. Jongin? Beth. Henry? Haeun.”

Maaya stared up at the ceiling. She’d given up any hope of Hyungwon ages ago, assuming they’d only ever be friends, and maybe that seesaw of relationships was why, even if she’d never actively thought about it.

“Huh,” she said, surprised.

“Exactly. Huh. I wasn’t about to let you hop into something new before I had my one chance.”

Maaya drew patterns on his taut stomach as she mused, doing a terrible job of hiding her schoolgirl smile. “Hmm. I like confident, determined pro-bowler Hyungwon.”

“Wait until you meet doting, sex-crazed boyfriend Hyungwon.”

Her eyes shot up to his. “Boyfriend?”

“Did I jump the gun? Shit, I’m skipping all the logical steps tonight. I don’t even know what you want. That’s just what I want.”

“You want to be my boyfriend?”

“More than anything,” he asserted. “Why do you think I had this whole dumb plan where I would show you what it would be like, and maybe you’d like it? I just never thought you’d ever take an interest in anyone there.”

“I knew it!” Maaya shouted as she pointed her finger squarely in Hyungwon’s face, any awkwardness forgotten in her burst of vindication. “It is just boomers and geezers there!”

“It was supposed to be…” Hyungwon grumbled.

She laughed and threw her arm over his waist and nuzzled her cheek to his pec. It was sticky, but she liked being stuck to him. “Wonnie, I haven’t thought about that guy since the second you kissed my head. It’s really hard to think about anyone else when you touch me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Why do you think I have to put so much distance between us when I’m dating someone else? I can’t help it. You take over everything.”

His fingers danced along her spine as he hummed contentedly. “Then I guess I’m always going to have to touch you.”

“Oh god,” laughed Maaya with a roll of her eyes. “Don’t go suffocating me now. You won’t need to. I’m hopelessly addicted.”

“Are you?” Hyungwon asked as he snuggled deeper.

She blushed and hid her face against his side. Half of her was shouting at herself to shut up, but the other half, the louder one, said, Say it. Just say it.

Maaya took a deep breath and held it until her lungs started to burn.

Keep it in. Keep it in.

Nope.

“I loved it. I— I— I love you, Wonnie.”

She pulled the pillow over her face, but Hyungwon forced it away to stare at her. His beautiful face filled her whole world, and she felt more exposed than ever. A fresh tear perked at the corner of her eye, and before she could catch it, it slipped down her cheek.

“Oh god,” she mumbled, but Hyungwon wiped it away with his thumb as he mapped her expression.

“Hey. Hey. I love you, too, okay? Always have, and if you let me, always will. Would have told you that ages ago if it weren’t for that stupid Vernon.”

She belted out a laugh as she clutched his full cheeks in her hands. “Okay, I get it now, I do.”

“Finally.”

This time when Hyungwon kissed her, Maaya opened herself up and let him in in a way she’d never dared before. Her arms spooled around his neck and brought him flush against her, and she purred against him. This was love, and it was hers. Finally.

When he pulled back at last, Hyungwon asked, “Told you I was in the mood for a win tonight.”

“Har har,” she quipped. “Yes, you really have perfect game.”

“Your puns are terrible,” he retorted.

“You love it.”

“I love you,” Hyungwon clarified and kissed the tip of Maaya’s nose.

“So, what do you say to a shower?” she asked.

“Depends. You going to keep your hands to yourself?”

Maaya smirked. “Not on your life.”

Hyungwon was out of bed in an instant. There was that hand again, always waiting for her to take it, and she didn’t hesitate this time. She’d never seen him happier, even four strikes into their game. “In that case…”

[kiridarling]

𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓.

— 3.0k words

eijirou kirishima | hard dom + dubcon jic + f!reader + exhibitonism + face-fucking + dumbification + car sex + more! minors dni.

"Made me come all this way...it’d be a pity if I didn't get somethin' out of it."

"No, no, no, no, no—c'mon," you cry as your car engine spits and sputters to a stop in the road, coughing like an old man with asthma before it's dead for good. Jamming your heel on the gas pedal, you twist your key in the ignition, but there's no use. You're fucking stuck.

You sigh, before slamming your forehead against the steering wheel. It's hard enough to sting, and the blaring horn startles all unsuspecting birds in a five-mile radius, but you could care less. Stuck in the middle of the woods at one in the morning, AAA membership-less with nothing but the clothes on your back and the vehicle you came with. Short cuts are a fucking myth.

Mina's the only person you can think of calling—because frankly, she's the only one who'd know a mechanic who could help at this time of night if one exists. Which you doubt. Severely.

"[Y/N]?" Mina answers, semi-urgently. You wonder if you startled her out of a good sleep, but knowing the night owl, her evening is just beginning. "What's up?"

"I'm fucking stuck in the middle of nowhere," you groan, banging your head against the back of the seat though you know she can't see you. "Car's not working."

"Oh no," she coos, and her pity is useless. "Do you have AAA?"

"No. Do you have a mechanic?"

"A mechanic...at one am? I don—wait," she interrupts before you hear something akin to rustling sheets. "I might have a friend who could help! But don't get your hopes up girlie, he's a heavy sleeper."

You shrug, shaking your head. "At this point, I'm desperate."

"Alrighty!" Mina confirms, and now all you can do is fucking hope her friend pulls through. "I'll give him a quick buzz and then send his number over, sound good?"

"Sounds perfect," you breathe, relaxing (somewhat) with your chin against the steering wheel. "Thanks, girl."

"Of course!" she cheers, and you wonder how someone could have so much energy at this time of night. "Good luck!"

"Thanks," you snort. "I might need it."

Riiiing! Riiiing!

Eijirou's had a long day.

A pipe busted at the auto shop today, resulting in an immediate flood—meaning they had to get everything that could possibly rust out as quickly as possible, aka everything in the goddamn shop.

So, yeah. He's had a long day, and when he's finally able to get under the covers and go the fuck to sleep, Mina calls him with this.

"Hey...Eijirou, buddy, best friend—"

"Mina, I love you, but what do you want?" Eijirou grunts into the phone, voice worn and ragged from limited sleep and his terribly long day. One am is never an appropriate time to call anybody, but he figures something has to be up—Mina's not the type to call in the middle of the night.

"Um, well. My homegirl’s kinda stuck in the woods with car troubles—"

"The woods."

It takes Mina a second but she hums in confirmation, and Eijirou can see her head nodding from where he lays. He sighs, rolling on his back to blink up at the ceiling. "Yep!"

"What is she doing in the woods at midnight?"

"I don't know!" Mina exclaims. Eijirou runs a hand over his face. "I just—please, Ei? She doesn't have AAA or anything and it's really, really late. All you have to do is hotwire her car or something, right? It's not like she totaled it or anything."

And dammit. Eijirou hates being a nice person.

"Just give me ten."

Mina practically gasps out a thank you, "You're a lifesaver Ei! Really! I—"

She's interrupted by the buzz of his phone—this time, from an unknown number. Eijirou raises an eyebrow, "That her?"

"Should be!" The pinkette says. Eijirou's feet finally touch the floor and it's painfully cold. His bed has never looked more appealing, and that's counting all those instances in high school. "Thanks again, Ei!"

"Yep," Eijirou says, popping the 'p,' before clearing his voice and switching the line. Customer Service at one am, here he comes.

"Red Riot Auto Repair and Services, how may I help you?"

All he receives is a grunt on the other end of the phone: "My car won't turn on."

Eijirou waits for you to give him a little more to work with, but it's clear that's all you have to say when you ask hello to ensure he's still on the other end of the line. Runs his hands through his hair, he silently prays he won't have to leave the house to get your car to work.

"Did you try jiggling the key?"

"Yes, I'm not stupid," you huff, and Eijirou's eyebrows fold in exasperation. He insists you do it again though, and hears the weak splutter of your engine through the phone with a heavy heart. "'S fucking useless."

"Did you try tapping the battery terminals?"

"The battery whatsitals?" You say, too loud and smart-mouthed for the very thin amount of patience Eijirou harbors. He reaches for his hair tie, satisfied enough with the messy bun he makes on the first try.

"Just send me your location," Eijirou sighs, moving for a jacket before snatching the keys to the shed. He'd rather just get this over with than beat around the bush.

Luckily, you're not far. 

"You drive that thing?" is your first comment, and Eijirou can't even appreciate your beauty before your first words shatter your image completely, and he's slamming the door to his truck with rolling eyes, rusted toolbox heavy in his hand. "It looks like Mater from Lightning McQueen."

Eijirou just stares at you for a second, just to see if you're really serious, and resists the urge to scoff when it seems like you are.

"It's a truck," is all he says, before marching around you and to the task at hand—your car. "Pop the hood."

You huff, but you listen, and Eijirou wastes no time in getting to work. You watch with your elbows balanced on the rim, curious but quiet, and that allows him to get in the zone enough to realize there are countless problems with your car.

"When was the last time you took this thing into the shop?" He probes. You click your tongue, eyes tracing the outlines of the trees as you search for an answer. That's never a good sign.

"Um...never?"

"And how long have you had it?"

"A few years," you nod, and Eijirou drops his head.

"It's a miracle you made it this far in the first place," he chuckles bitterly, shaking his head. What the hell is he going to do now? There's no way your car is moving anywhere tonight. You frown, jamming your hands on your hips.

"Well? Are you going to fix it or what?"

"I can fix it," Eijirou says with a shrug, closing your hood. "But not tonight."

"What do you mean not tonight?" You badger, breathing down his neck as he hikes back to his truck to set the toolbox down. There's no reason to carry it if he's not going to need it.

"I mean, your car's going to need a solid six months before it can run again, Sweetheart."

When Eijirou turns, you're much too in his face for his liking. He can practically feel your breath against his chest, and it has him rolling his eyes, leaning against his truck with arms crossed.

"Yeah, okay, but I need it to run tonight," you explain, gesticulating so wildly Eijirou fears his own chest may fall in the cross-fire. "Like, I need to get home tonight."

"I can't—" the redhead sighs, running his hand over his face. You're terribly difficult, and if Mina had given him a proper warning he probably wouldn't be here in the fucking first place. "Listen. My shop is out of commission for the next few days 'cause of a flood. I can work on your car or whatever, but it'll take a sec, so the most I can do is drop you at a hotel down the road or somethin'. Sound like a plan?"

"No," you growl, claws and all, and Eijirou wishes for nothing but death. "That doesn't sound like a plan! I don't know you, what makes you think I'll get in a car with you?"

Oh. My. God.

"Then you can spend the night in your car and have Mina come get you in the morning," he huffs, stomping over to the driver's side of his truck. "So it's either you're gettin' in, or I'm leaving ya."

With that, he slams the car door shut, shoves his key in the ignition, and counts to fucking ten, and on nine and a half you're flinging open the passenger door and bouncing in the seat, arms crossed over your chest in indignance. You don't even look him in the eye.

"Seatbelt," he warns. You tut.

"I don't need a fucki—"

"Put on the goddamn seatbelt."

You don't say anything, but he's satisfied by the click that follows. Eijirou shifts into drive and you two take off.

"The seat's so uncomfortable."

Not even twenty feet.

"Suck it up," is all the pity Eijirou has to offer. He's preoccupied with trying to get from this side road to a main road with, you know, actual civilization. The road is unsteady—unsteady enough that a bump sends the both of you flying towards the roof of his car, and naturally, you have something to say about it.

"Y'know, for a mechanic, you're not a very good driver," you say, and it has Eijirou's fists tightening around his steering wheel. His patience wears down until it has the height of a penny, and Eijirou worries for when it shatters because he has no clue what he'll do if it does.

"And it smells a little funky," you continue anyway, eyes wandering around the cabin aimlessly."Kinda like cheese. No offense."

Eijirou pulls over at that, teeth grinding. Is he really going to snap over cheese comment?

“Is this a condom?”

Yes. Yes, the fuck he is.

"Get out."

"Um—excuse me?" You blink, eyebrows raising in offense. "You're kicking me out. Because I found a fucking rubber?”

Eijirou glares your way and he's sure you can feel him radiating fury, and that's enough to convince you to hop out of the car without another word. He follows, slamming the door behind him.

"Okay? Now what?" You growl, and Eijirou loves it—the false display of confidence. Because he knows it won't take much to break you once he gets you under his thumb, and you'll look so pretty once he does. Cocking his head to his side, he tells you to come here without having to open his mouth. You follow.

"Now, on your knees."

You splutter at his request, rolling your eyes as if he wasn't being serious. Though you shut up once you hear the clink of his belt, lips widening in revelation, and Eijirou thinks you'd look much prettier with your mouth full.

"You made me come all this way—it'd be a pity if I didn't get somethin' out of it," Eijirou says, and the way you shiver implies that you like this more than you let on. He coos when you say nothing, "And for the first time today she's got nothin' to say. See? You're improving already."

He gives you a second to move. When you don't, he lifts an eyebrow. "Knees, Princess."

You do and Eijirou groans at the view, palming his hardening cock at the sight of your bambi eyes blinking up at him—and it's a pretty one, at that. Leaning against the door of his truck, he grunts, "Take it out."

Your fingers hook under the waistband of his boxers and Eijirou shivers upon contact with the cool air, but the warmth of your palm makes up for it. You spit on his cock with a curled lip and it's nothing short of crude, before you're swirling your tongue around the head and taking him as far as you can possibly go.

"Uh-uh," Eijirou tuts, grabbing you by the hair to pull your mouth off his cock. "We got at my pace, Sweetheart."

"Why?" You pout with a curled lip. Eijirou scowls.

"Because," he says, before stuffing half of his cock down your throat, "I'm gonna put that big fuckin' mouth to use at my pace."

With that, Eijirou thrusts into your mouth, using the grip he has around your hair as leverage. Your throat is impossibly warm and the way you choke has him keening, and that's enough for his hips to start picking up mindlessly.

"Shit—what a dirty fuckin' girl," he says, smirking when you moan around his cock. "You like this? You like sucking off a guy you just met?"

Your eyes flutter at that, nails digging into his thighs, and it nearly has him cooing. When you swallow around him Eijirou's hips stutter and he grunts, "In public, no less. Anyone could drive by and see you taking my dick down your throat...but you'd like that, wouldn't you? You want the world to know how much of a slut you are."

Your hand falls between your thighs and Eijirou grins like the devil as he watches you touch yourself on the dirty road, desperate just because knows how to push the right buttons. That's enough to have him caving, demanding you rise to your feet and get in the backseat of his car.

"Hands and knees," Eijirou urges, his body towering over yours from behind. It's not long before he's pinning your wrists to the windshield with one hand and using the other to land a harsh slap on your ass; harsh enough to make you jolt forwards from the force.

"Such a pretty ass," he coos before slapping it again, and your teeth dig into your bottom lip to muffle the sound. "And it's all for me, ain't it, Princess?"

You nod, but Eijirou spanks you again—he's looking for an answer.

"Y-Yeah, yes, all yours just—" your hips wiggle in search of his cock. Eijirou chuckles, leveling his lips with your ear.

"Want me to fill you up, Princess?"

You gasp out a yes, nodding vehemently. The redhead finds he likes you like this much better, chest rumbling with arousal. "Yeah? How bad?"

"B-Bad, please, I need t—fuck!"

Eijirou stuffs you full with one thrust, and even he needs a moment, freehand searching to hold onto your hip while his grip tightens around your wrists. You quiver under him, and he swears he can feel your gut contract around his cock, eyelids fluttering when you grind against him.

"Holy shit," Eijirou finds himself wheezing, not expecting you to be so tight. You drop your head against the cool windshield, whimpering like the pretty little thing you are, shuddering as he pulls out before ramming himself in again until he's balls deep. You scream, back arching from the angle.

And fuck. It's impossible for him to stop after that.

"Fuckin' look at you," Eijirou chuckles, body practically caging you against the seat, "Drooling all over my window like a slut. Fuck, you really know how to get a guy goin' huh?"

“Pull—pull my hair,” you request, words from his pistoning hips. Eijirou tuts and rips your hands off the window in favor of pushing your head into the seat, not making a move to yank on your hair once.

“I don’t think you’re in the right place to be making demands, Princess," he growls before his hot palm cracks against your ass, hissing from the way you tighten around him when he does.

You whine at that, pushing into him the best you can. It only spurs his hips on faster, and Eijirou lets go of your hands in favor of grabbing your face instead, groaning at the sight of the tears shining silver from the moonlight. He likes the fact that you can't do much but gasp and rock against him, your hands falling to clit to finally push yourself off the edge.

He looks at you and all he sees is his dumb little thing, who can't do anything, let alone get her car to work, and that's when Eijirou realizes he doesn't want this to be as much of a one-time thing as he initially thought.

"Gonna...gonna cum," you slur, cheek mashed flat against his window. Eijirou fucks you into the door of his truck, pace quick and bruising, as his mind thinks of all the fun you two could have together—all the fun he wants to have with you.

"Cum, Sweetheart. Make a mess of my cock and my leather seats, yeah? Show me how good I make you feel."

You tighten around his cock, tight, and that's enough to send him spiraling into an orgasm of his own, hips stuttering to a stop as he fills you up. Though his hips never stop, not until you're coming around his cock with a broken moan, curled toes digging into his car floor. He watches you catch your breath, splayed across the seat, with a sudden realization that he feels much lighter, but doubts it was the sex that did the trick.

"You fucked your anger out now?" You wheeze, breaking the silence, and Eijirou snorts.

"I—yes," he says before his eyes trail to the scratch marks around your hips and thighs. "Are you...okay?"

"Never been better," you toss your arms in the air like you're on a rollercoaster but lack the energy to scream. It's cute and it had the redhead re-evaluating everything, wondering how the day could start so shitty and yet, end so well. "Are you okay?"

His eyebrows furrow, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno," you shrug, and Eijirou finds it hard to stay focused when you look like that. "You asked me, so. Everyone needs a post-sex check-in, ya know?"

Fuck.

Fuck, yeah he's definitely keeping you.

[struggling-with-time]

Does your father know? [Sapnap x reader]

Paring: Sapnap x Gender neutral!reader

Summary: A couple of nights out, that the local adults certainly aren't supposed to know about. But definitely does. And the things that happen at those parties. College AU SBI!reader.

Warnings: Fluff, so much fluff

Words: 4.6K

Masterlist: Sapnap's Masterlist - SBI Masterlist - Full Masterlist

A/N: This has been brewing in my head for days, so here it is. Please request if you feel like it. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Request here.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You are casually chatting along with Karl, and a very drunk Quackity. The music is loud in the house. You don’t remember whose parents own the house, it's more likely it's an involuntary frat house. But it sure isn’t a place you are used to coming to. You can spot Sapnap as he makes his way over to the three of you, and before you know it.

Sapnap pulls you along onto the dance floor, barely giving you time to put your drink down. You are already a good few drinks down and can’t help but feel like floating as he drags you along. A giggle passes your lips as you make your way into the dancefloor.

The music is loud, and while you have never heard this song before, you feel like you know the lyrics to it.

Sapnap places his hands on your hips as the two of you dance.

It’s nice, it’s fun.

It’s not what you are supposed to be doing.

Because as far as your family is aware, you are sleeping nice and soundly at home, and not out drinking and partying.

Well, most of your family, you could have sworn you saw your brother, Wilbur, in the crowd earlier. But what he doesn’t know. Won’t hurt him.

“Having fun tonight?” Sapnap’s voice breaks you away from your though. His face is suddenly a lot closer than before. His warm breath hitting your ear as he whispered. A grin works its way onto your own face.

“With you? Of course.”

It’s loud. It’s warm. It’s crowded.

Yet there is nowhere else you would want to be for the night.

Sapnap pulls away from your ear again, mouthing along to the song that’s playing. And the two of you dance, losing yourself to the crowd. Losing yourself to the music. Losing yourself to each other.

None of you have count on the number of songs that pass by. Each one seemingly bleeding into the next, and your energy never-ending. Your dancing ever the fun.

You can feel his hands as they glided over your body, seemingly exploring all of it. And you enjoy it, egging him on as you dance. You dance only for him. Matching your hips to the rhythm. Your eyes locked on his. His hands locked on you.

A cheeky wink from you timed to the music, is all Sapnap needs for him to pull you close against him once again. His lips ghost over your ear.

“You look great in blue.”

His touch goes from warm to hot, seemingly setting you ablaze. His lips trailing over your neck. Down to your shoulder. From your shoulder back to your neck. His teeth grazing over your neck lightly before he continues back up to your ear.

You can feel him whisper something to you, but you have lost most senses. Only able to focus on his touch. As his fingers grip you tighter.

He pulls his face back, and you lock eyes with him. A smirk is eminent on his face.

It’s clear to him, it’s clear to anyone taking a glance at you. He is driving you wild.

His left-hand leaves your side to cup your face. He pulls you in slowly, and you more than willingly follow along. His lips ghosting over yours once more. For a second, it’s just the two of you. Just for a second. But only for a second. Then the spell breaks.

“Fuck.” Sapnap mutters and pulls away. His hands letting go of you completely, and suddenly you are forced to stand on your own. You feel a bit disorientated at the sudden pull back to reality.

Sapnaps eyes are locked on something a bit behind you, a string of curse words seemingly leaving his mouth. You’re unsure if he’s muttering or talking. The music overpowering them either way.

You turn around to find what has brought him to pull away.

And there in the outskirt of the dancefloor stands a tall pink-haired guy, holding a brunette slumped against the pink guy. Or as you formerly know them, your older brothers Techno and Wilbur. They seem to be looking for someone, as Techno seems to be looking through the crowd that has assembled on the makeshift dancefloor.

Sapnap leans over to your ear once again.

“Does your dad know that you are out?” This time he’s yelling, no longer intimate or secretive whispers.

“No!” You yell back to him.

“Do you think they’re looking for you?”

Techno catches your eyes and raises a hand. Answering Sapnaps question for you.

You manoeuvred your way through the dancing crowd, leaving Sapnap alone. Approaching your brothers. You cast a glance back to where you stood, Sapnap already gone in the crowd. You try not to look disappointed, as you look back at your brother, but one raised eyebrow from Techno is enough to tell you, you failed to do so.

“Drunk?”

“Drunk.”

You sigh, as you guide Wilburs arm over your shoulder, and the three of you head into the night and down the street. A couple of minutes passes, and Wilbur starts to mumble about his big plans for the future.

You and Techno share a laugh at your brother's expense in the night. The inevitable scolding from Phil far away in the future.

It takes you exactly three weeks before you have done enough chores to get ungrounded. Although all three of you had snuck out in the middle of the night. You and Techno had been responsible enough to bring Wilbur home without trying to drive, and you had even woken Phil up yourself when you got home. Although you were pretty sure he had heard you from the moment you had stepped through the door. And Wilbur had decided that the hallway would be a perfectly good place to take a nap.

But that was three weeks ago, and now is now.

You have the clothes you want to wear in your backpack, along with your laptop and a physics book to make it believable.

While you don’t pride yourself on being a party animal, it doesn’t hurt to participate when invited. And especially not when Sapnap himself invites you.

“Bye Dad!” You yell out as you pass the kitchen. Phil sitting on his laptop, with Tommy beside him looking close to crying in frustration over homework, and Wilbur seemingly trying to cook something up. Keyword trying.

“Wait up!” Phil yells out, making you stop in your track. “Come in here.” You slowly backtrack your steps, making you stand in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” He squints his eyes at you, before looking you up and down. Tommy mouths ‘someone is in trouble’ to you. And you resist against, in all better judgement, to hit him.

Instead, you lift your backpack, “Study session at Karls, remember? I’m staying over for the night.”

Wilbur decides now is the perfect time to join the conversation, a playful look on his face. He knows exactly what’s going to be happening at Karls place tonight. Despite still being grounded, you know you will see him there later tonight.

“Study session huh? I thought you had study group on Wednesdays?” Wilbur brings a hand up to mimic a thinking position.

Fuck.

“I do!” Was that too quick? You look back at Phil, “I do.” You repeat yourself, “It’s just for my physics lecture, got a test on Monday.” Phil seems to not completely buy it. “Besides Dad, I am ungrounded after all, you said so yourself yesterday.”

Phil hums. “I did say that…” He looks you over once more. “Alright. At least let Techno or Wil drive you.”

That decision is easy enough for you.

“TECHNO! DAD SAYS YOU HAVE TO DRIVE ME!” You yell into the house. You swear you can hear your brother grumble about having to drive you from upstairs. But you elect to ignore it.

You look back over at Wilbur who is now discarding his apron in favour of getting out of the house. He knows if he can play his cards right, he can make Techno stop at the music store. And he might just be able to catch his totally secret girlfriend Sally for a couple of minutes. Not like he won’t be seeing her tonight.

You listen as Techno walks down the stairs. Now audibly complaining about being the only responsible driver in the house.

You would drive yourself, but having one car for four people to share isn’t exactly great. You tried having a driving plan once that you could put yourself on when you needed to borrow the car. It ended up with a month of Wilbur hogging the car. So now instead, you all just always drive each other around like soccer moms.

Techno looks annoyed at you as he passes the kitchen. But you know if he was truly annoyed he just wouldn’t have come down at all.

You turn to follow Techno into the hallway but are still able to overhear Phil questioning Wilbur on where he is going.

“To drive with them of course.”

“You’re still grounded.”

“C’mon Dad, Phil, Philza, it’s just a drive, it’s not like I would be seeing anyone.”

“Fine.” Despite not being able to see Phil, you know your dad is trying his best not to smile at Wilbur’s antics. “Just a drive. You probably need to get out of the house anyway.”

And that’s enough for him to end in the backseat of the car. Tagging along.

You automatically go for the AUX, as the designated DJ in the front seat. You barely get to press play, before Wilbur has started a conversation. A conversation that is closer to an interrogation.

“So Karl’s place to study, huh? Nothing to do with what’s going to happen tonight at all?”

“Oh please.” You turn your head to look back at Wilbur. “As if you won’t be there too.”

“Techno is gonna be there too!” Wilbur whines, as if it would make the situation any better.

“Wait, really?” You look over at Techno, turning forward in your seat once more.

“Yeah, Dream won at practice the other day.”

“How?” “You lost?” You and Wilbur speak at the same time.

“The guy put oil on my sword, so I dropped it.”

You snort, and Wilbur laughs. “So much for Techno Blade never loses.”

“Oh, shut up the two of you. At least I’m not grounded.”

“Hey!” Wilbur shouts.

The car ride passes with sibling banter, and a couple more jabs at each other before you are pulling up to Karls house. You quickly get out and yell a quick “See you later!” before heading over to the front door. You smile to yourself as you overhear Wilbur asking if they can stop by the music store as he changes from the back seat to the front seat.

You listen as the car pulls away, and you get to ring the doorbell.

A flustered Karl throws open the door. Loudly greeting you, before pulling you into a hug.

“You made it! I didn’t think you would, but then again Sapnap did invite you. But you did say no the other couple of times and-”

“I get it Karl, but I’m here now.” You smile at him, letting him breathe. He giggles. “Can I come in?”

“Oh yes! Of course! Of course! Come in.” Karl guides you into the living room, closing the door after you. You stand awkwardly in the doorway until Karl grabs your wrist and leads you over to the sofa telling you to sit down.

You kinda expected more people to be here. But instead, you are met with the familiar faces of Karl and yours friend group. Not to mention a couple of Wilburs friends. Not that the small town is big enough for everyone close in age to not already know each other. The community college isn't exactly helping either.

You can already feel tonight will have a different feeling than last time. Way more down to earth, and way more chill.

Quackity falls into the seat beside you and offers you a drink, which you happily take. “It’s nice to see you not all dressed up you know.” He tells you. Suddenly you’re happy you didn’t change at home, not that you had much of a choice.

“Yeah, it’s nice not to be all dressed up.” You say, taking a sip, as you eye your backpack that was placed against the wall in the living room.

“I hear both your brothers are gonna be here later. I can’t believe Phil just lets you guys go out. My mom thinks we are studying for English class.” Quackity complains. "I hate still living at home."

“Oh no, you have it all wrong, Phil doesn’t.” You laugh, a bit dry, but it is what it is. “He thinks I’m here for a study session for my physics lecture, Wilbur is still grounded for the last time the three of us was out, and Techno is only coming because he apparently lost to Dream at fencing practice.”

Quackity snorts, “Techno lost to Dream?”

“I know! That was my reaction too.” The two of you share a laugh.

“I can’t believe the Minecraft household is filled with degenerates.” He feigns a disappointed tone.

“You aren’t that much better.” Sapnap buts into your conversation. You hadn’t noticed him walking in. Quackity lifts his hands in defeat and gets up from the couch. Only for Sapnap to quickly takes his place.

“I’m guessing by that your dad doesn’t know about tonight either.” He teases you, and you look away for a moment, your purple drink suddenly very interesting.

“He does, sorta, not. He thinks we are here to study.” You give Sapnap a weak smile, and he chuckles at your antics.

You barely miss him muttering, “Cute.” Underneath his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

And then silence falls upon the two of you. You want to keep him talking, of course, you do. How could you not want to? It’s Sapnap.

Every time he speaks, you want to cling to each word and hold it dearly. Instead, you flash him a smile, and he smiles back. Before looking away, and you can’t help but feel a bit defeated at that.

However, you are saved by Karl hooking up his phone to a speaker and way too loud music blasts into the living room.

It takes a good half-minute before the volume is lowered enough for it to be background music, and it takes even longer for anyone to agree on what playlist to be put on.

The afternoon bleeds into the late afternoon, and more people have decided to join. You now share the three-person couch with two more people, leading to you being pressed up again Sapnap. Not that you are complaining.

Wilbur and Sally have arrived too, already sitting on the floor together. Already - as your youngest brother Tommy would say - already sucking each other’s faces dry.

Techno seems to be the last person to join the gathering, bringing beer too. Of course, you can’t help but think. Of all the people he’s the only one of the three of you, that could ever make Phil buy any of you beer.

"Techno is the most responsible of you four."

"C'mon on dad! This isn't fair!"

"Exactly! I understand her, but daaaad we're both 20 why do you want to help him but not me?"

"Shut up Wilbur."

You are in a heated conversation with Karl about the right way to read document history. When you notice a touch on your left side. You stop midsentence, Karl doesn’t notice and keep arguing his side. But Sapnap does.

You can feel a pair of eyes on you, as you look down to see his hand around your waist. Neither of you have talked to each other since the quick conversation. Then Dream and George had each pulled up a chair nearby the couch and the three of them had talked since then.

Suddenly you get hit with the thought, that maybe, despite all better judgement, just maybe. What happened a couple of weeks ago wasn’t just because you were the nearest person. Just maybe it was because Sapnap actually looked your way.

You don’t let the thought get to your head too much, because the second you look at him. He’s back in his conversation with Dream and George about something you don’t really care about from the sounds of it. You shake your head; you must have been imagining stuff. He didn’t look at you.

You get two more drinks in you, as the evening passes on, and Sapnaps hand seems to find its way onto your thigh. You have no intention of getting drunk, but the feeling of Sapnaps hand on you seems near addicting.

It’s nearing midnight when a less than sober Dream suggests a game of Truth or Dare.

Techno complains against it as the only one, stating “We aren’t middle schoolers.”

So you play truth or dare.

The first couple of rounds starts innocently enough, the mood is good. Everyone is having fun. You are enjoying yourself, listening to embarrassing stories, to creating new ones alongside your friends. Finding yourself curling into Sapnaps side just a bit more.

He doesn’t protest or say anything against it, so you take it as a win, and keep leaning against him.

Then a drunk Quackity gets his turn and asks George for his worst hook-up. And the energy in the room changes. From then on the innocent truths and even more naïve dares are out the window. For stories about peoples experiences, and dares that seemingly gets riskier and riskier.

You manage to dodge most questions, keeping to the truth after that point on. Until you are unable to.

“Don’t be boring! Choose dare!” George eggs you on, and you give in. Anyone would give in, you swear the guy has pretty privilege. Most of the living room cheers.

“I have a good dare.” Dream says.

“Too bad it’s not your turn to ask then.” You stick your tongue out at him and turn your attention back to George. When you see the guy motioning for Dream to whisper his dare. “Betrayal George, I will never forgive you.”

“Too bad for you then.” His smile widening the longer Dream keeps whispering. Your worry starts to grow, you are already regretting deeply for giving in to the peer pressure.

Dream retreats and looks satisfied with his idea. George takes a moment to think it over, but it’s clear that he has already made up his mind.

“I dare you…” He clicks his tongue. “I dare you to give Sapnap a lap dance!”

“What?”

“You heard me!” George looks proud of himself, or his idea, or Dreams idea. You don’t know. Your stomach is seemingly doing backflips at the idea, while your head is spinning for the exact opposite reason.

“Chicken?” You try, you don’t notice the desperate look Sapnap is giving George.

“Nope,” George pops his ‘p’, “you’ve been boring all evening with only choosing truth. Besides we're all adults here, c'mon it could be a lot worse.”

You look over at Wilbur, who is more than occupied with Sally. Then over at Karl, who has a teasing grin on his lips, as if he knew this would happen. Then to Quackity, who looks like someone who definitely knew this would happen. Then to Techno, who looks like he could murder Dream. And knowing him, there is a 50/50 chance he’s still mad over losing or that it’s about the idea Dream just proposed.

“He didn’t say it had to be here,” Sapnap says to help you out. “We can just leave.” Your head pecks up at that. He’s right. George didn’t specify where. A smile forms on your face, a smile based on relief.

Dream starts to protest, but you have already grabbed Sapnaps wrist and started dragging him into Karls room.

You miss Techno slapping Dream over the head.

You make Sapnap sit on Karls bed, as you make sure the door is locked. You would rather die than anyone walk in on you. You look around for a speaker, and you barely get your phone out of your back pocket before Sapnap has put his hand on your wrist now.

“Hey, you don’t have to do it.”

You look at him, panic still evident in your eyes.

“What?”

“I said you don’t have to do it.”

“What?”

He smiles at you and tugs you over to sit beside him on the bed.

“For the third time, you don’t have to do it.”

His left-hand cups your head, his right hand has moved from your wrist and into your hand.

“It’s just a stupid game of truth or dare anyway. Techno is right, we aren’t middle schoolers. Fuck, we aren't even high schoolers.”

You smile at him, before letting out a quiet chuckle.

“Yeah, you’re right. I thought you would want that, though.”

Sapnap leans his head to the side. Asking you to continue.

“I mean, you’re Sapnap. Oh, c’mon on don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?” he grins at you now. The air suddenly becoming light around you.

“Please, don’t act like you don’t know. Everyone knows.” You look away for a moment, his hand lightly turns your head back to look at him, and you let him. Although the look you are met with is one of confusion and not the cockiness you were expecting.

You sigh once.

Then twice.

Then once more.

You were really about to do this, in the bedroom of your childhood friend. Jesus.

“Sapnap, seriously. This isn’t funny.”

“What? I feel like I lost the thread somewhere here.” His hand falls from your face, and you can’t help but want to chase it.

“I like you, everyone knows that. This isn’t funny. Seriously. Everyone knows I’m absolutely hopeless for thinking you would even look in my direction.”

You fall onto Karls bed, letting yourself sink into the purple bedsheets.

“Well, I can tell you two things.”

Sapnap falls onto the bed beside you. The two of you now staring into the wooden ceiling that’s decorated with glow in the dark stars.

“And what are those two things?”

“You see, one nobody thinks you are hopeless.” He chuckles a bit at that. “If anything, I’m the hopeless one here.”

You turn your head to look at him, and he does the same to you, giving you a kind smile.

“And now why would you be that?”

“Because two, not everyone knows that you like me, I didn’t.” You return his smile, although you feel a need to look away at the words, you keep eye contact with him.

“Well, now you know, making me right.” You tease or try to. You can feel the air has gone from light, to very heavy suddenly. Barely breathable. And you can feel your breath hitch in your throat, you know what words you hope he speaks next. But yet, you can’t stop expecting to get laughed at and rejected right here.

“I guess, but you see, I would say I’m the hopeless one here. Because I’ve been trying to tell you that I like you for months now.” He covers his face with a hand. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, I sound like a cliché.”

You let out a small laugh, “Yeah, you do a bit. But…”

“But…?” he asks, his hand still over his face, but you can see him peaking through his fingers.

“But I don’t mind it, I think it’s cute.” And now it’s his time to laugh.

Then slowly a silence falls over the two of you. Unlike the one from earlier, this one is saying more than a thousand words, while saying absolutely nothing at all. It’s just two people who like each other enjoying a moment.

“We should probably get back to the others again.” Sapnap breaks the silence, and you take a deep breath at the sudden disturbance.

“Oh yeah, the others.”

“The longer we stay here, the more they are going to wonder what we are doing.” You can’t help but laugh at that.

“You are sadly right Sapnap. You are unfortunately right.”

You groan as you sit back up, offering him a hand that he gladly takes, but instead of you helping to pull him up from the bed.

He pulls you down into his lap once more.

"However..." He starts, "They can wonder all they want."

You can feel his hands on your hips now. As he leans in to start trailing kisses over your neck once more.

Your breath hitches.

His teeth grace your shoulder before you can feel him sucking.

His hands exploring you as you lean into the pleasure.

You start squirming in his lap, and he stops.

"No."

You pause, as his hands quickly leave you.

"No?"

"I am not having my first time with you, with your brothers down the hallway, and my best friends absolutely listening in," Sapnap admits to you.

The statement makes your face heat up, and you try to hide away in his neck. He chuckles at the cute gesture.

"We should get going..." He trails off but makes no moves to actually get up. Just basking in the heat you apply to him.

You sigh, as you get off him, his hand now holding yours.

"Sadly you're right."

He gets off the bed and stands beside you.

However, when you prepare to let go, he keeps your hands entangled, and if you’re honest, you don’t mind all that much.

You unlock the door and head back into the living room. All conversation going stale the second the two of you stand in the doorway.

Dream ever the curious, is the one to break the ice. “Sooo…”

Sapnap lifts your entangled hands, and the room breaks into cheers. And you swore you heard a couple of people mutter finally. You hide your head in your hand, trying to hide your embarrassment alongside it.

Leading you to miss Karl throwing Quackity some money, and George doing the same to Dream.

You lift your head from your hand as you hear Wilbur speak.

“Good luck explaining that one to Dad.” Wilbur laughs, but a smile clear on his lips.

"What?" You say, as you can feel Wilburs eyes burning onto your throat. Your hand quickly coming up to try and cover the clearly evident mark.

A glance at Techno tells you that he too is happy for you, but even more clearly he is on the brink of smugness. Knowing you're going to get in trouble tomorrow.

He has been the one on the end of most of your seemingly endless rants about the moment that happened weeks ago at that party. The one that your brothers ruined, so it felt self-explanatory for them to be on the end of your whining.

Sapnap guides you, as the two of you return to your seats on the couch and the night continues.

Nothing has truly changed, yet it feels like everything has changed.

And somewhere along the night, things did change.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

[httpdabi]

My pet

Genre: romance, smut, normal AU with no quirks, university!reader x professor! Dabi,

Summary: Maybe skipping his class wasn’t such a bad idea. After all, the detention could wait for some other time, not like you weren’t getting sick of it anyway.

Words: 6.8k

Warnings: 18+, praise kink, bit of fingering in public place, semi public sex, unprotected sex, creampie.

Taking a deep breath you tried to calm yourself down a little. From all the papers, you had to lose the one from Professors Aizawa’s classes, which was pretty important. And the fact that he had a pretty big dislike of you didn’t help either, since you were sure that he will nag about it a whole moth or give you little to no time to write it again.

Rolling your eyes, you collected all the papers on the floor, putting them in one box, accepted the fact that your paper is nowhere to be found. With a big sigh you stood up and poured the hot coffee in your cup to go, before you took your bag from the floor and left your apartment.

You weren’t in the mood for Uni today, but at least you had only few classes, which meant you won’t spend much time there.

You checked your phone one last time, before you locked the door and hurried downstairs to catch your bus. Using the app, you always checked when will the bus arrive, giving yourself 5 minutes to catch it. This time you went out a bit earlier, since Aizawa’s class was the first one. After all you didn’t have the paper done, you couldn’t afford yourself more shit with being late.

,,Fuck’’ you hissed when you saw the bus already on the bus stop. You were about to run, but once you noticed all the people squished in it, you couldn’t force yourself to do it. After all, you were never sporty, every time you had to run to catch the bus, he would simply speed off and leave you half dead on the bus stop. Yeah, you had a condition of a dead horse.

,,I’ll be a bit late’’

you texted your best friend Mina as you sat on the small waiting bench. The next bus will arrive in 8 Minutes, which was enough time for you to smoke one. Upset about everything, you smoked your cigarette almost aggressively, puffing on it like it was your last one.

You don’t run. There is always a possibility that you will die if you run. So, it’s better if you come a bit late, then not at all. You thought to yourself.

Some people don’t come to the classes at all and no one gives a shit, yet you are worried about some stupid paper and being late.

When the bus arrived, you turned the cigarette off and got inside, finding yourself an empty seat as you hopped into it. Momo texted you that Aizawa is not even there and that maybe there’s a chance you’ll arrive before him.

Of course there’s no chance you’ll be able to do it, since the bus driver took his time driving. You were sure they had something against you. When you are trying to catch a bus, they suddenly turn into Formula 1 drivers as they speed off, but when you are inside of the bus, they follow every possible rule and drive so slow.

The moment you arrived, you walked pretty fast surprisingly, every second step you took, you tried to force yourself to run. You tried to push yourself between the students that had their best time in the fucking hallway of the Uni. Most of them giving you a weird looks as you started to run for the first time, upstairs.

Opening the door of the huge class, you stood there confused. The man standing there wasn’t Aizawa, so you looked around to check if the classroom was the correct one. It was. Scanning the room, you saw Momo in the last row giggling at you. Giving the man one last look, you made your way to your best friend.

,, You didn’t check your messages, did you?’’ She whispered quietly, as you hopped between her and Mina. Shaking your head you took out your notebook and placed it on the table, while Momo explained to you what’s going on.

So, Aizawa had some problems which forced him to be absent for the next 6 months, making his assistant Touya Todoroki take over his classes.

The three of you chit chatted quietly, as your new so called Professor was calling out your names to mark the list. Like in high school, you thought to your self as you put your hand up when your last name was called. Professor Aizawa never did that, one look was enough for him to notice who is absent and who’s not.

Everyone knew Touya Todoroki. He was around your age, and that made students a little bit more comfortable around him. You heard that he finished Uni one or two years ago, being one of the top students. Being that smart, and Aizawa’s one of favorites, they gave him the chance to work there as his assistant.

In your opinion, joking around with the students wasn’t really smart of him, since there’s always a possibility that they won’t take him seriously later on. But hey, maybe you were wrong.

Once the introduction was done, and he said enough about himself and all the plans Aizawa had for the next 6 months, he said that he’ll call your names out in alphabetical order, for you to give him your paper and sign the list he prepared for it.

You felt a bit uneasy when you realized that till now, all of them had their work finished and the possibility that you’re the only one that didn’t have it made your stomach twist.

When your name was called out, you thought about some lies you could tell him, none of them good enough.

,,I’ve lost it’’ you breathed out as you clapped your hands and slowly nodded your head. He gave you the ‘’are you serious’’ look as you stood there embarrassed a bit.

,,Is that even possible ?’’ he asked as he raised his brow at you, eying you out while you played with your fingers nervously.

,, Obviously, it is’’ you said, crossing your arms on your chest. What kind of question is that even? People come here and lie about their test being eaten by their pets, yet your honest and sad excuse was suspicious to him.

,, When is the next date ?’’ you added, hoping he’ll give you enough time to write it again.

,,Tomorrow’’ he said, not even looking at you.

,, WHAT ?’’ a scream escaped your lips, loud enough for everyone in the class to hear and look at you. Is this dude insane ? Even tho Aizawa didn’t like you, he would still give you maybe a week to finish it.

,,Take it or leave it’’ he said, with a small smile formed on his lips, like he didn’t just tell you to do something impossible. Rolling your eyes shamelessly, you turned around and made your way toward your seat, where Momo and Mina waited excitedly to ask you what happened and so on.

The moment your last class finished, you had to cancel all of your plans, making your way home immediately after it. That day, you couldn’t even afford yourself to make a lunch or dinner, since every second and minute counted. The only food for you was coffee and cigarettes that day.

The good thing was, that you remembered lots of things you already wrote, but sadly, the paper wasn’t really small, forcing you to write and write without taking even a small break.

You hoped that you’ll finish it till 11PM, since your first class started early in the morning, at 7 AM. Sadly your big hope sank like Titanic when you checked what time it was when you almost finished your paper.

It was fucking 3:37 AM.

That disgusting motherfucker, you thoguht to yourself, as you imagined how great it would feel if you had the possibility to break his fucking tattooed neck.

The moment you heard the alarm, you wished you were dead. If someone placed a gun on your forehead at that moment, you would probably beg him to shoot you. Taking more time then usual, you found yourself being late again. This time you didn’t give a single shit about it. You didn’t give a shit about looking like half dead bird, with your hair tied up in way too messy bun and dark circles under your eyes.

Stomping into the classroom, you didn’t bother to look or greet anyone, forcing yourself to sit in the first row, since more students remembered that they actually go to Uni and suddenly decided that today is the best day to show up. Mina and Momo didn’t sit close to each other or to you either, since the class was unusually much fuller.

Grabbing your phone out of your pocked, once it started to vibrate, you saw that Mina and Momo were writing shit in your little group chat.

,, Are we having this piece of shit all day?’’

you texted, ignoring the topic they were writing about.

,, Yeah, we’ll have one and half hour break in between, and then him again. I don’t mind it tho. Dude’s handsome as fuck’’

Mina replied, making you roll your eyes.

,, Handsome as fuck my ass. Bro looks like random junkie from the main train station’’

you tapped furiously sending the message, scrolling down your Instagram feed, not even bothering to look at him, when he called your name out when he checked the absence list.

,,No phone in my class’’ he said loud enough, when he noticed it. Ignoring his statement, you just continued to use your phone. It’s not his problem if you are using your phone, it’s not his fucking problem if you decide not to follow his class and fail it at the end. Sure, if you were interrupting the class, then it would make some sense. But since you didn’t interrupt him or anyone, it shouldn’t bother him at all.

In one moment, you had your phone in your hands, the next one it was snatched from your hands. Looking up, you saw him standing in front of the desk you sat in, with your phone in his hands, scanning the room if anyone else was using it too. Both Mina and Momo hid their phones fast, when they realized what just happened.

He stood there quietly as he did something on your phone. The only thing you could see was his thumb scrolling something on your phone up. Whatever it was, he had no fucking right to do it and it made your blood boil.

,, There is something called privacy, you sick fuck’’ you hissed loudly. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the fact that you had less then one day to finish your paper, but you couldn’t stop yourself from insulting him. The moment you spat those words, you felt his eyes on yours. You noticed a small smirk formed on his lips as he turned your phone off.

,, You just got yourself in detention Miss.’’ He said, as he placed his phone on his desk ignoring your complains.

At that point you weren’t sure if he got all the dislike on you from Aizawa, or if you had that kind of personality that made people easily dislike you. Sure, maybe you overacted and embarrassed yourself in front of the whole class, but in your defense, he didn’t have the right to do it. None of the students were children. All of you had the right to decide on your own if you will pay attention to the class or not.

When the first class was done, Mina and Momo came to you immediately, eyes wide in shock as they talked about what just happened. The two of them waited for you beside the door, as you took your finished paper and made your way toward his desk.

He pushed your phone from the end of the desk toward your direction, as he told your friends that there’s no need to wait for you. Confused, they left immediately, not wanting to pull themselves into troubler or give you more of it.

,, Sit down’’ he said, as you stood there confused as well, gripping tightly onto your paper. Being a bit lost, you didn’t follow him immediately, standing there totally lost.

,, Sit the fuck down’’ he repeated, this time a little louder. You sat there, eyes wide open in shock. Sure, he started off as someone that looked like all of your classes would be fun with him, but with todays actions, and the small amount of time he gave you, definitely changed the view of him to the rest of the students. To you even more, since his sudden behavior wasn’t really pleasing.

,, Paper’’ he simply said, as he tapped with his hand on his desk. You gave it to him immediately, not sure if you are allowed to leave or not, also unsure if you can take your phone or not anymore.

,,Good, now go clean the desks or whatever’’ he said as he took your paper, scanning it a little bit.

,, You gotta be kidding me’’ you laughed. This dude has some serious issues, you thought to yourself. ,, We ain’t in fucking high school’’ you hissed. You were about to grab your phone, but his hand stopped you, as he grabbed your wrist with his left hand.

Without saying another word, he just shook his head towards the direction where the small bucket was. Usually prepared for the Cleaning lady that does her job once the class is over.

You wanted to make even more drama, and curse him out instead of apologizing for interrupting his class, but at that moment you didn’t have the balls for it. First of all, because you were pretty sure he was in contact with Prof. Aizawa all the time, and second, it was already clear enough that he dislikes you more then Aizawa does.

You took a deep breath, as you prepared the water. Hoping he will let you go soon, since everyone else is already on the break and if you were being honest, you were getting pretty hungry.

The whole time, he just ignored you as he was correcting your paper. He already corrected the paper the rest of the class turned in, so he wanted you to have your note too. Aizawa told him about you, never paying attention to the class and appearing just to avoid the shit you could get for missing the classes. He heard enough about all of you, and he wanted to make sure none of you will misunderstand him just because of his young age. Starting of with you, and giving one good example to everyone else. Sure, it wasn’t very nice of him to give you less then one day to finish your paper, but only you were the one without it, and he didn’t want to wait too long for it and make you lose the little focus you had on the rest of the class. He was pretty sure you would mostly focus on the paper you had to write, ignoring the other stuff he prepared.

You took your time cleaning the desks, humming some song that was in your head last few days. When you finished your task, you made your way toward his desk. Sitting down to the desk in front of his own, you wanted to ask him if you may leave or take your phone, but somehow it felt too weird to do it.

,, Spit it out’’ he said, his eyes focused on the paper you gave him. Of course he noticed the little uncomfortable glances you gave him, and the way you played with your fingers. Something about it gave him the feeling of power, in some weird twisted way.

,, Can I go ?’’ you asked fast.

,,No’’ he replied as fast as you asked, like he was prepared for you to ask him that, making you whine loudly. You were pretty sure if it was Prof. Aizawa instead of him, you wouldn’t even dare to react that way.

,, Text your friends to bring you something to eat. You ain’t having the break today’’ he said, still correcting the paper. With a huge sigh you took your phone and turned it on. Messages popping up one after other. Mina and Momo cursing him out, sharing their location with you and simply being worried a bit. You told them about the break thing and asked them to bring you some snack, as you complained how he’s actually torturing you.

His coughing took your attention, making you place your phone on the table as you watched him stretch his arms out, as he placed your paper in front of you. Your eyes widened when you saw a huge D and 52% written on your paper. Some students would just be happy they passed, but not you. The worst grade you ever got in last two years was C, and yet you almost failed this fucking paper, only few percent’s saving your ass.

,, The beginning was alright. You missed lots of points. In the middle, some stuff you wrote didn’t make sense at all.’’ He sighed as he rubbed his right eye a bit before he continued telling you what you fucked up.

,, The end was terrible, from all the facts you wrote, to your grammar. It was painful to read ’’ He added, as he played with the pen in his hands.

,, Not sure what you expected from me when you gave me less then 24 hours to finish this shit.’’ You spat, anger taking over you again. At this point you found yourself missing Aizawa, and first time you felt unsure if you will be able to pass this class.

,,Is this detention done now? Can I leave now ?’’ you asked, wanting this shit finally to be over, ignoring his words from before that you won’t have a break today. At your surprise he just laughed you out, pissing you off even more if it was possible at all.

,, This ain’t your detention sweetie’’ he laughed, as he took his phone out of his pocket. Telling you how you will have to stay every day after classes for 1 to 2 hours to help him prepare his stuff for next classes. For the next four weeks.

You weren’t sure if he was joking around or not. You knew that some students had to do it, for example, Mina had to do it for a whole week, since she pissed off your Professor Shigaraki, always being late to his classes last year.

The next day, you ignored what he told you, as you made your way toward the exit when the class was done, only to be stopped as he called your last name out. That was enough for you to understand that he wasn’t joking around, and that the next four weeks you will have to give up 1 to 2 hours of your precious time.

At the beginning all you had to do was print the papers he prepared for the classes, and grab some stuff he needed while he was writing something down, or correcting some shit. You found yourself regretting the decision to go to that fucking uni. Usually professors don’t give a damn if a student pays attention to the class, if he passes or fail. They are here to teach, not discipline and if you feel like failing, that’s your issue. Well, not in this case. You felt like they enjoyed torturing y’all just for their own satisfaction.

Later on he would command you in the middle of the class to grab something out the office, since you already spent few hours in it, knowing where his stuff is. You also got yourself a new nickname in class, which was ‘’Todoroki’s pet’’.

,, Chill out, you only have 3 more weeks’’ Mina said as she took a bite of her sandwich, saying how she knows how you feel.

,, Bitch, no one called you Shigaraki’s pet. This is embarrassing’’ you whined, taking a sip of your coffee. The two of you decided to ditch the rest of the classes, since it was his one anyway. She wasn’t in the mood to listen to anyone’s shit today, since she had one sleepless night, and you weren’t in mood to stay 2 extra hours.

Both of you spent some time in the café, gossiping about some people form your class and making plans for tonight. Since it was Friday, both of you wanted to enjoy your time a bit, instead of spending the night home being lazy as fuck. Mina told you that Keigo invited the three of you to his little house party that he made every now and then. Every time his parents would go somewhere because of work, he would throw a party that made him so famous among other students.

He knew you, Mina and Momo from the high school and he always got along with all three of you. Sometimes even tagging along with the three of you to grab a coffee, nagging about his affairs and so on.

Mina didn’t go home, since you invited her to come over to your place. Both of you getting a good ass nap before you got ready for the party. She wore some of your fancy clothes and you wore a simple white shirt, and your pastel purple strap dress over it, that hugged your curves perfectly. The two of you did your make up before you wore your black Martens boots and made your way to the party.

Momo was already waiting at the party for you, drinking her beer with Keigo. She placed her drink on the counter when she saw the two of you get in. There were already some people you knew, but you knew that in the matter of time the house will be full as fuck.

,, You two sick fucks, why did you leave me all alone today’’ she laughed out as she took one sip of her beer.

,, No one’s in the mood to talk about that fucktard and his annoying ass classes here.’’ You said loudly, as you made a drink for yourself, mixing Malibu with some cherry juice as Keigo asked the three of you what happened.

,, Professor fucking Todoroki is torturing the shit out of me.’’ You said as you placed a cigarette between your lips. ,, I never thought I’ll say this, but I really miss Aizawa’’ you said in one breath making your friends laugh at your sudden confession.

,, Ah, I heard about your new nickname tho’’ Keigo said with a huge grin on his face, making you roll your eyes. ,, What is it again?’’ he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You were about to tell him to shut the fuck up and drop this topic already, but a arm placed around your shoulders threw you out of the tact.

,, They call her My pet’’ a familiar voice said, making you almost choke on your drink. Momo’s eyes were looking at you in shock, and Mina tried to make herself unnoticed, since she skipped his classes with you today.

,, Bro, I heard that you are giving her some hard time. What did you do to my girl?’’ Keigo laughed loudly, as he greeted his ‘’friend’’. You sat there frozen, totally forgetting that you have a cigarette in your hand, that was now half way done. You weren’t sure how much he heard.

,, Nothing she didn’t deserve.’’ Your prof. answered, laughing together with Keigo. You forget that he was around your age, and that it shouldn’t be such a big deal to see him at party’s like this. After all, everyone enjoyed his company. You, Mina and Momo exchanged one look that told more then any word could. All of you grabbing your drink, before leaving the two of them in the kitchen.

,,What the fuck is he doing here ?’’ you spat out, not giving a shit if he will hear you or not.

,, I have no idea. This was so embarrassing’’ Mina said, laughing loudly as she drowned her drink down, grabbing another one immediately.

,, Why ?’’ Momo asked confused, making you ask yourself how much she drank already.

,,Girl, the fuck are you even asking ?’’ Mina asked her, still giggling around. ,, Usually people get smarter in Uni, what happened with you? ‘’ she added wrapping her arm around Momo’s shoulders.

,, Downgrade’’ you said, making your friends laugh, as Momo hit your arm lightly.

Keigo was playing the music, his phone connected to the large loudspeakers. At the beginning you hated his taste of music, but later on you simply got used to it and at some point you started liking the songs he would play.

The three of you were fooling around, chitchatting with some people you knew from Uni. Once you heard that Anxiety from Blackbear started playing, you made your way toward the kitchen where Keigo was. The moment he saw you he started making some silly dance moves, as you immediately started to hop around and copy his moves. The first time he showed you this song, you literally hated it so much, only later on to learn every word as it became the song of you two.

He started singing as you prepared another drink for yourself, waving your left arm in the air like Keigo did, following the beat of the song. At that point, you didn’t give a fuck about the presence of your Prof, since it looked like he didn’t really want to bother you either.

,, Having fun?’’ Keigo asked, as he placed his glass in front of your lips, forcing you to drink every drop of his drink.

,, Disgusting’’ you hissed, making a face. He laughed at your silly face and reaction as he pat your head. Taking a sip of your sweet drink, trying to cover up the Whisky he just gave you.

,, Touya, your detention ain’t shit. She still doesn’t have any manners’’ Keigo joked, as he shook his head a little.

,, I’m working on it’’ He answered, a small smirk appearing on his lips.

,, Oh shut the fuck up, both of you’’ you blurted, trying not to give them much reaction, since you were pretty sure they were just provoking you at this point. The two of them only laughed at your reaction, finding it cute.

Hopping of the long chair, you pulled your dress down, and made your way to find your friends. The house was full at this point. Greeting every third person, you tried to find either Mina or Momo, only to give up at the end.

Not wanting to go back in the kitchen, you made your way upstairs where the guest room was. Keigo and Todoroki noticed you going upstairs as Keigo tired to call your name out, only to end up being ignored since you didn’t hear shit.

You hopped onto the bed, your feet still on the floor, since you were too lazy to take off your boots. You placed the small ashtray on the bed, and lit your cigarette as you watched the people in the small hallway dance around and have fun.

Taking your phone out of the small pocket of your dress, you sent a message to the group chat, asking your friends where they are and telling them that you are in the guest room. Dropping your phone to the side, you enjoyed your cigarette, and the muffed sounds of the music. Looking at the ceiling, you waited for your friends to reply or come finally, since you wanted to drink and have some more fun.

The moment you heard the door close, your body twitched up.

,, What do you want now ? ‘’ you hissed when you saw Todoroki making his way to sit next to you. Instead of answering you, he just sat beside you, taking the small box of cigarettes and lighting one with your lighter.

You did the same thing, trying to cover the fact that you indeed felt a little bit uncomfortable. You laid down again, ignoring his presence as you puffed on your cigarette. You could feel his stare on you, as you tried to pull your dress down a little, scared it showed more then is should.

He laid down next to you, placing the ashtray to the side. In that moment you wished you were drunk, since the whole situation was freaking you out a little.

,, Chill out doll, we ain’t at Uni.’’ He said, placing his hands under his head, answering your question only now.

He looked a bit different then usual. Wearing simple black shirt with jeans, and Nike airforce. It looked good, but it kinda felt weird since the only outfit you saw him in was the formal one, in the uni.

You tried to move to the side a little, since he was a bit too close. Placing the ashtray on the nightstand, you took it as excuse to move a bit form him. Sure, he was handsome as fuck, sure you wouldn’t mind him that close, laying down beside you, if he wasn’t your fucking professor for the next six fucking months.

He noticed you wiggling to the side. How could he not notice that, as your dress got a bit up without you even realizing it, giving him view of more skin. He’s not stupid, he knew he made you uncomfortable, but he liked it. He liked the way when some of your friends called you by your new nickname. He loved the fact that he marked you his, without trying at all.

The moment you stood up, realizing that your dress is showing more then you intended to, grabbing the edges of it and pulling it down while whispering small apologies, his dick twitched inside of his pants. He placed one more cigarette between his lips, as he grabbed your wrist, forcing you to sit on his lap and not giving a single fuck if you could feel his erection.

,, What’s wrong doll?’’ he asked once you gasped in surprise. He loved how you didn’t dare to complain or even say anything. But was there even something to say? Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t find yourself to form a normal sentence anymore.

,, You heard what Keigo said. ‘’ he whispered, as he inhaled the smoke of his cigarette. ,, That my detention ain’t shit’’ he added, his finger on your jaw now, making you look at him.

,,What should I do’’ he wondered out loud, turned on only by the confused look on your face. You weren’t sure if he already noticed, but all he did at that moment turned you on. His grip around your jaw got stronger, forcing you to open your mouth lightly, as his lips got closer to yours only to exhale the smoke in your mouth.

,, You know, I have to punish my pet for being absent today’’ he said, his face only inches away from your own. ,, Sure, I thought you were sick at first. But look at you, healthy as fuck’’ he said, his other hand squeezing your ass tightly as he pulled you closer to his body. The position you were in was embarrassing for you, and you were pretty sure if someone walked in, you would be labeled as Todoroki’s pet forever.

He placed you onto the bed, slowly standing up to turn off his cigarette. You weren’t even sure what was happening anymore. You just sat there on the bed, as he locked the door before he made his way back to you. Standing in front of you, looking down on you, he couldn’t hide the smirk that appeared on his face.

Pushing you back lightly, your upper body fell onto the mattress giving him a perfect view of you, before he hovered over your body. He wanted to fuck your brains out, he wanted to hear you scream his name all over again as he fucked you into the mattress, but he had to risk it all with a question. Since you were giving him mixed signals, he had to be sure you wanted this as much as he did.

,, You sure about this ?’’ he breathed out, hoping you won’t turn into a fucking brat again and storm out of the room, or make any other unnecessary scene.

,,Yes’’ you managed to nod your head. Sure, the risk for you was huge, but what could even happen anymore ? You were already labeled as his pet, because of the stupid detention.

,, Good. Fucking. Girl’’ he said pointing every word out, as he placed soft kisses all over your neck, leaving sloppy purple marks shamelessly. Your breathing got a bit heavier hearing these three words coming out of his mouth.

He didn’t have time for foreplay, first of all, because he wanted to be inside of you, second, because the risk of people noticing was too big. Sure, he was around your age, but at the end he would probably lose his job.

,, Someone’s calling you’’ he said, still abusing your neck. Ignoring the phone and his words, you just enjoyed the feeling of his lips on your neck, wanting more.

,,Pick it up doll’’ commending, he pulled your panties to the side, as he touched your clit, groaning loudly when he felt how wet you already are. The thought of fucking you while you were talking to your friends got in his mind, and he couldn’t ignore it at all.

,, Yes?’’ you asked, sounding whiny more then you should, while he played with your pussy.

,, Bitch, the door is locked’’ you heard Mina on the other line, eyes wide in shock. You tried to pull yourself up, but his hand stopped you as he pushed you back into the mattress.

,, I’m.. I’m not.. ahh shit ‘’ You almost moaned when the sudden feeling of pleasure and pain took over you, as he entered you without a warning. Throwing your head back, you tried to talk, you tried to think of something, anything, to tell to your friend.

Touya closed his eyes, enjoying how your walls felt around his dick. Your pussy felt like it was made just for him. And it felt even better once he heard you fight the moan, while you tried to talk to your friend.

,, Keep being good for me’’ he groaned quietly, as his hips started to move at rapidly speed.

,,Are you with someone?’’ Mina screamed, as you closed your eyes, feeling every inch of his dick moving in and out of your core. All you wanted to do was throw the fucking phone away, and enjoy what he was giving you.

,, Y-yeah, friend’’ you said, trying to hold the moans, as he fucked you hard. Mina hang up after she told you that they will wait for you in the kitchen with Keigo. The moment the call ended, you threw your phone on the bed, placing your hands on his shoulders, finding some comfort in it. You were sure that people could hear the bed slamming onto the walls, maybe even your moans that he muffed with his hand.

,, You feel so good, doll’’ he groaned, every move he made was getting stronger and faster, turning you into a whiny mess under him. You placed your lips on his neck, sucking and biting on it as you tried to keep your moans low. You felt a bit proud of the marks you left on his neck. If you were marked his, then that was the last thing you could do to mark him too. Even if it was a bit.

,, Touya, please’’ you cried when he slowed down. Snuggling your face into his neck, you took a deep breath trying to calm yourself down from the pleasure he was giving you. The slow moves were too painful for you, they made you feel every inch of his dick moving inside.

He moaned loudly when he heard his name slip out of your mouth. He wanted to hear more of it, he wanted to hear you beg for him while you say his name all over again.

,, You look so good when you want it’’ he said, tugging your hair back into the mattress, giving himself more access of your neck that was already marked by him, but of course that wasn’t enough.

,, Be my good girl and beg for it’’ he said, not moving at all. He wanted to destroy you, but at that moment he simply had to hear you beg for him.

,,Please Touya, I’ll be good. Please’’ you begged again, and that was more then enough for him.

,, That’s my good girl’’ he whispered, kissing your lips as he started to move his hips again. He was pounding into you like there was no tomorrow, enjoying the way you were whimpering under him as you wrapped your legs around him, trying to get him closer to you.

,,So close’’ you mumbled somehow, squeezing your eyes shut when you felt his fingers rub against your clit. Only few rubs were enough for you to catch your high, biting onto his shoulder as you came all over his dick.

,, Such a good girl’’ Touya said as his speed increased, shortly after it, he comes deep inside you, groaning into your neck, as your fingers found their way to his hair. You closed your eyes, feeling his seemen filling your pussy up. He continued to fuck you as he was riding out his orgasm, slowly fucking his cum back into your core.

The two of you took some time to catch your breaths. His dick still buried deep inside you. The moment he pulled it out, you whined loudly at the feeling of emptiness. Placing one more kiss on your lips, Touya pulled your panties down, cleaning the cum that was leaking out of you with them.

,, You gotta be kidding me’’ you gasped when you realized what he did, only getting a smirk as a response.

Once he was sure that you were clean now, he pushed your panties deep inside of his pocket, giving himself a little present that would remind him of you, before he commanded you to unlock your phone, so he could save his number in it. Immediately calling his own number.

,, Don’t ever think of skipping my class again for the next six months” he hissed, as he grabbed your jaw, forcing you into kiss. All you could do was nod in agreement, promising that you’ll attend his classes.

He gave you one more kiss, before he left. Telling you to wait a bit, before you follow him, to make it less suspicious. Laying down on bad, all fucked out, you smoked one cigarette as you sent a message to Mina and Momo, telling them that you’ll be there in few minutes, and asking them to make you a drink.

Once the cigarette was done, you found yourself going downstairs, noticing that Touya was already with Keigo, talking about something. The moment you stepped into the kitchen, Mina and Momo started laughing loudly.

,,Oh, I see what’s going on’’ Mina gasped figuring out what just happened. She wasn’t dumb. Maybe others didn’t realized, but your overly marked neck, and the few hickeys around his neck made your friends understand what happened. Not like Keigo didn’t already know, he was the first one to support his friend, making him follow you into the guest room.

The next days, you found yourself waiting excitedly for your detention. Enjoying the time you were spending with him. Enjoying the risky sex the two of you had in the class room, in his office or in the toilet of the University.

Touya didn’t test your limits anymore, he knew that you were ready to do anything for him, he knew that he had you under his spell. But as much as he had you, you had him. He found himself spoiling the shit out of you, driving you home, coming to your apartment almost every evening and buying you little presents you never asked for.

You loved how he couldn’t keep his hands off you, not even in front of the class, ready to risk it all for you. Ordering you to work on some of his papers, while everyone else was chit-chatting or simply playing on their phones when the lesion was done. He wanted to let them all go, so he could fuck you there on the desk, but since it was too early, he just told them to do whatsoever, as you sat beside him, focused on your work.

The small gasp that came out of your mouth, once you felt his hand on your tight, squeezing it tightly, turned him on even more. You don’t wear skirt when you are having classes everyday, he had to grab that chance he had served in front of him.

,, Not here’’ you whispered, trying to look like nothing’s happening at all.

,,Yes here’’ he answered quietly, as he acted it out like he was explaining something to you, slipping one finger into your core.

The way he pumped his finger in and out of you, acting like he ain’t doing shit was driving you crazy. Also the fact that anyone that payed a little bit more attention to you, could probably realize what was going on, didn’t help either. The adrenaline was rushing in your blood, as you squeezed your tights together, trying to tell him that he’s hitting the right spot.

That day he finger fucked you in front of everyone, making sure no one noticed. Even tho no one gave two shits about the two of you, every person in their own worlds, you felt like all eyes were on you. You felt like everyone knew what was going on, as your head hang low, hair covering your face enough for you to squeeze your eyes shut as you came all over his fingers.

Once you found yourself breathing normally, you took your phone, opening the message that Mina sent you.

,, Girl, you can’t be serious’’

The two of you made eye contact, laughing loudly. Well, someone in fact noticed, thankfully no one dangerous.

[watermelonlovershigh]

You Get Sick in the Back of an Uber

AN: so this was a story i have had in my drafts for like three months and just never found motivation to finish it. i decided to finish this first out of my drafts because it was one of the ones that had the most already written for it. unlike some of my others that don't have much written yet. and this was supposed to be longer but i got lazy and ended the end with no dialogue and shorted the story. but i guess that's fine because the main part of this was the uber incident and not necessary the aftercare. (i just love to always include aftercare whether its with sex or getting sick. unless its a blurb) @harryhoney-bee suggested number 1. on my voting post so thank you for requesting i finish this one shot idea that was in my drafts.

This story contains: puke, drunken person, caring husband

{ husband!harry - dad!harry - Grammys 2021 Harry - 4 kids (any age you imagine) }

word count: 1765

When you drink too much at the Grammys, you end up having to get sick in the uber ride home and Harry cares for you.

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

Back Story-

After the Grammys, Harry and I decided to go to the little after party that was being held for the Grammy attendees. We knew we couldn't stay too long because we had to get back home to our kids. They were currently with our babysitter but she couldn't stay all night. She has to go home at some point. So we made sure to watch the time.

At the afterparty, drinks were flowing. I haven't drank in a while due to the fact I had been pregnant not too long ago. This was the first night I was allowed to drink and I decided to do just that. Harry was aware of me drinking and promised to watch and take care of me. Though we were at this afterparty for him, he wanted me to let loose and have some fun as well.

But what he wasn't expecting was for me to drink the amount I did. I didn't mean to go over board. It just kind of happened. People handing out drinks left and right and next thing I knew, I was drunk. Not tipsy, drunk. When Harry noticed how drunk I was, he decided it's best to go home.

And because Harry also had drank some alcohol, he wasn't in a state to drive either. By no means was he as drunk as me though. Maybe just tipsy but he didn't want to risk it. So he decided to call an uber for us.

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

Current-

We're sitting in the back of the uber on our way home. It's about an hour drive since the city is crowded with traffic due to the Grammys. Right about now is when I regret drinking any alcohol tonight. Because I haven't drank in over a year, my body isn't use to the poison running through my veins. So you could say I'm a lightweight now. My head is throbbing. My vision is blurry. My stomach is turning. Lets just say I regret all my decisions tonight that lead to me feeling this way.

"Harrrrry I don't feel good." I manage to slur out.

"You probably should have stuck to champagne instead of vodka my love." Harry responds, while stroking my hair out of my face in a gentle manner.

Another 10 minutes pass and I'm feeling very nauseous. I'm trying to focus on my breathing but it's not working.

"Harry my stomach hurts." I whisper with hooded eyes.

"Like you're gonna be sick?" Harry questions with panic.

I nod my head and hear Harry asking the driver if he can pull over.

"Can you pull over? My wife is feeling ill." Harry frantically questions the uber driver up front.

"I'm sorry sir but this freeway is packed and there is no way I can get to the side of the road right now." the driver says with a bit of an attitude.

Hearing that made me and Harry both start to panic.

"Well do you have any sick bags in here?" my husband asks.

"Sorry I don't." the driver retorts in a uncaring tone. What kind of uber driver doesn't carry sick bags for when drunks potentially need a ride but feel like they are going to be sick?

I just barley hear Harry let out a frustrated sigh and turn to me.

"Try and relax love. Take deep breaths for me, alright." Harry whispers while rubbing my back as I'm slumped over his body, too disoriented to even hold my head up.

About 3 minutes later, I feel vomit rise up my throat. There isn't much I can to do. The driver already said he couldn't pull over, nor does he have sick bags. I sit up from my slouched position and clasp a hand over my mouth. My legs are bouncing up and down. I'm trying desperately not to puke but I'm doing a poor job. Harry is sitting up with me, trying to comfort me but his words are all a blur at this point.

"If you have to be sick darling, let it out. I'll pay to get this uber cleaned, okay." Harry states in my ear. I know he'd rather not have me puke on the floor of the uber, right beside him, but he can tell I'm struggling and in discomfort.

Hearing those words was all the conformation I needed. I remove my hand from my mouth and let out a gush of alcoholic bile spew from my mouth and onto the backseat floor board. Harry gathers my hair in his hands so it's not in my face. My vomit splatters all over my legs and on the bottom of Harry's Gucci suit. I'd feel terrible about that if I wasn't so out of it, but my mind is a mushed up blur.

"Shhh, that's it. You're alright." Harry reassures me. The uber driver lets out a sigh of disgust, but this is truly his fault that I'm throwing up in his uber right now anyways.

Heave after heave, I let out more of the alcohol that was poisoning my system, right onto the floor. It's not a pretty sight. I'm having a cold sweat and my body is trembling. Though Harry has a weak stomach, when it comes to his wife (me) or his kids, he can always handle a bit of throw up. Or a lot like currently. It's like a fatherly/husband instinct that comes over him and he feels only adrenaline, not yuck.

Finally I feel my stomach relax and I sit up, breathing heavy with vomit dripping down my chin. Without thinking, I wipe it off with the back of my hand and smear it on my already ruined dress. "Feeling better?" Harry asks in a low tone.

"Mhmm." I hum, not really feeling like talking. My drunken brain has cleared up some from the majority of the alcohol being out of my system, but I still feel the after affects drinking brings. I just lean my head on Harry's shoulder for the rest of the ride home and allow the cool breeze to blow on my face. The uber driver did us all a favor by rolling the windows down so we didn't suffocate on the nasty smell of my sick.

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

After-

When we arrived home, Harry payed the uber driver, not giving much of a tip and told him that he'd have someone clean his car out in the morning. As well as a half assed apology for my incident beings it could have been prevented. Then carefully, Harry lifted me out the uber and carried me into our Los Angeles home. Good thing our kids were all asleep because they shouldn't have to see their mother like this. Covered in puke and half drunk.

Harry took me to our bathroom and quickly ran down stairs to pay our babysitter, hoping she didn't question my appearance when she saw my state as we came through the front door. She didn't thankfully and left soon after her check was handed to her. Harry came back up to where he left me and helped me clean up and get ready for bed.

He stripped us of our vomit covered clothes and helped me into the big walk-in shower we have in our master bathroom. Then after he delicately washed our bodies along with my hair, he helped us out and dried us off. We brushed our teeth, me with the help of my husband because I was still a bit dizzy. After we're clean of sick and smelt fresh, he helped me put some panties and a t-shirt over my nude body and boxers on himself; just incase our kids woke up and needed us for whatever reason.

Harry helped me into our large bed and tucked me in, bending down to kiss my forehead. Then he walked down to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water and a bucket incase I needed to be sick again at some point through-out the rest of the early morning. When he had all the items he intended to grab, Harry came back to our bedroom where I was already passed out with sleep.

So he just set the water on my night stand and the bucket on the floor, beside my side of the bed. Then Harry quietly exited our room and went to each of our child's bedrooms to make sure they were fine and still asleep like they should be, which they thankfully were.

When everything was done and taken care of, Harry turned the bedroom lights out and slipped in the covers with me. He helped my body scoot over and I cuddled into his warm body. I didn't realize it in my state of sleep but I knew when I awoke, I'll be thinking about how grateful I am to have a wonderful husband like Harry.

He takes such good care of me. He didn't get upset that I drank too much on his special night and accidently got wasted. He never once got upset that I basically got throw up on his expensive suit tonight in the uber. He didn't get annoyed that he had to shower both me and him past midnight, though he was exhausted. Harry loves taking care of me (and our kids) and wouldn't wish for any other life. Even when his life becomes chaotic and stressful. Harry loves his family dearly and his family love him just as much or more.

Masterlist (regular smut, fluff & sicfics)

My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST

Harry Styles Series - One Shots & Blurbs Masterlist

Harry Styles blurbs, concepts, & short stories Masterlist- (short writing with little to no dialog)

[lipstickstainz]

true lies - s. r. (12/?)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.

Chapter Summary: A collection of letters Spencer and you share while you're gone - and then you're gone forever. At least, that what he thinks.

Warnings: some fluff, angst, angst, angst, smoking, slight ptsd, grief and loss

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I'm sososososo sorry. please don't hate me. I love you. gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

previous part

Dearest little bear,

two months have passed since you had to leave, and not a day goes by that I don't think of you and wish you were here with me.

We are trying to do everything in our power to be able to bring you back home. But unfortunately, it seems to be taking longer than I would like.

I was told you were working on it as well. You are strong and smart and even though you can't be with me, I'm sure we can do it together.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest Neruda,

I was very happy to receive your message. I always carry it with me, although I would rather be in your arms, but I can't.

I can't tell you where I am right now, but still I wish you were with me. It is warm and beautiful and I am sure you would like it here very much.

Except for these letters, I'm not allowed to talk to any of you, but I like talking to you best anyway. We've come this far. And we'll make it.

Thinking of you.

With love,

little bear

-

Dearest little bear,

It's been four months and with each passing second it becomes more unbearable. But a light is appearing at the end of the dark tunnel. We think we know who she is.

It won't be long before we can see each other again. And I can't wait to be able to hug you again. To be able to touch you. Or kiss you.

Not much longer. And then nothing can separate us.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest Neruda,

It would have been too good to be with you again at last. But it still takes time.

I have found something that can help us, but for now, just know that I will do everything I can so that I can return home. Back to you. No matter what it costs.

Keep your eyes open. We're closer than you think.

I'm thinking of you.

With love,

little bear

-

Dearest little bear,

I was given time off to take a break. I was with my mother and she told me that a kind young lady had been here. She doesn't remember you, but she knows you are familiar and that she can trust you. As I do.

I am infinitely grateful. And I'm tired of waiting, but for you I do. For you, I do it all.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest Neruda,

I can no longer grasp a clear thought, because whenever I close my eyes I see everything I have done in review. I can hardly sleep and the nightmares plague me.

I just hope that everything will end soon. It has already been a year since we saw each other. I can't promise you anything, but I hope you know that everything I had to do was for you. For us.

Thinking of you.

With love,

little bear

-

Dearest little bear,

it's been a few weeks since I've heard from you. I hope you are doing well.

We have found a trail that will take us further.And brings me a little closer to you. And that will bring you back home. I can't wait.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest little bear,

It's been two months since you wrote to me.

Get back to me as soon as you can.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest little bear,

Words cannot describe how much I miss you. Or how great the pain in my chest is.

I can't eat, I can't sleep. I can hardly breathe without you.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest little bear,

they hung your picture today. In the portrait you are smiling, proud to finally be part of the team. I can't look at it.

I was sent home, but everything there reminds me of you.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest little bear,

I keep your letters in a small box next to my bed. They are a part of you that I don't want to lose, even though I have already lost you. They are a part of you, just as you are a part of me.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest little bear,

I went to our bookstore and found a book of poems that you would like. I'll put it with your letters.

No book in the world could have prepared me for the grief I feel. The pain is too engaging for me to talk about it with anyone but you.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dear little bear,

it's been almost two years since we last saw each other. I don't remember what you sound like, or what you smell like. Why can't I remember that? Is it wrong of me not to think it's bad? It takes away my pain a little.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dear little bear,

A lot has happened in the two years we've been apart. Too much to ever be able to write down all the things. I just want you to know that this time was not easy for me. Not for any of us.

I put your letters away safely because you will always be important to me. But I have to let you go. And with this, I release you.

I love you. Forever.

With love,

Neruda

-

You pinch your leg to wake up. Your neck is wet with cold sweat and you have to blink several times to realize that you are in a cab. You run your hand through your hair as the driver looks at you curiously through the rearview mirror. He says nothing, which is why you glance out the window.

The drive from the airport to Quantico only takes an hour, but you still take the opportunity to close your eyes for a moment and doze a little. You haven't had a decent night's sleep in ages, you don't even know what a healthy portion of sleep feels like anymore, because you haven't had that luxury in the last two years.

As the car comes to a stop in front of the FBI building, you pay the driver and get out with your small bag. The building seems much bigger than you remember. You used to spend every day here, it had once been your home. But now you're not even sure you have a home anymore.

You take a deep breath and enter through the large doors, but are directly approached by a security guard.

"Miss? Are you visiting?", he asks suspiciously, extending his arm to keep you at a distance - something that wouldn't do him much good if you were actually trying to get past him.He eyes you up and down, which you can't blame him for. In your ripped jeans, dirty sneakers, and loose sweater, you don't look like someone who belongs here. By now, you don't either.

You look at him. "I'm here to see Unit Chief Prentiss", you reply coolly. You know he's just doing his job, but you're too impatient to let all this wash over you. You know Emily is already in the office. You know her too well not to. Why doesn't he just go get her? You just want to see your friend.

"Chief Prentiss?" He raises an eyebrow. "And what is your request?"

Your gaze is rock hard and your tone cold as ice. "Tell her Y/N Y/L/N is here to see her."

You wait outside the building, letting the morning sun warm your skin and the cigarette burn between your fingers before you put it to your lips and take a drag. Afterwards, you stub it out on a trash can. As you exhale the last bit of smoke, you turn around. And there she is.

Emily is standing at the door, and when you see her, you drop your bag and wrap her in your arms so tightly that you can't breathe. You cling to her, afraid that maybe this whole thing isn't as real as it feels, but you imperceptibly pinch your arm. And she is still with you.

"I thought - they said", she stammers, and it's the first time in your friendship that she's speechless. You hug her even tighter.

"I know", you answer softly, blinking away the tears that have formed in your eyes. The moment is too beautiful to cry. As you break away from each other, Emily wipes her own tears from her cheeks, but some have already landed on her blouse. There are dark stains now.

"I don't even know what to say", she says, smiling at you as you enter the building together. The guard gives you a look, but doesn't ask any questions as you walk past him toward the elevator. Inside, she pushes a button that takes you to the BAU floor. "I can hardly believe you're really here."

Neither can you.

The office is completely silent because no one is here yet except for you. Although nothing has changed, everything has changed because you are now someone else. It's been a long time since you've been here. Two years, but everything in this room is all too familiar to you. The coffee machine, the law books, the files. It feels like you've never been away. It's déjà vu all over again.

While Emily gets you both coffee, you sit down at the round table and wait for her. Your friend sets the cups down on the table before sitting down next to you. She smiles faintly. "How are you?"

You pucker your mouth. How are you? You haven't been asked that question in ages, and to be honest, you don't know how to answer it either. How could you possibly be?

When you don't answer Emily, she phrases her question differently. "What are you feeling right now?"

Your lips become a thin line. "I don't know. It feels like all of this," you point to the room, "isn't a part of me anymore. Nothing has changed, but it still feels foreign."

Emily nods. "You've been through a lot, I guess." She takes a sip of her coffee. "You're right, Y/N. Nothing has really changed here. But you're a different one now, aren't you?"

You open your mouth to answer her, but you don't know what either. Part of you feels at home here, but a bigger part of you knows your place is somewhere else. You just don't know where exactly.

"Do you want to see the others?", Emily asks. "I'm asking you because it's been a long time since you've seen them. And they think you're...you know. Are you ready for that?"

Are you ready for that? You haven't seen either of them in a long time, and it would probably be better not to see them for now, but to let Emily sort it out first. But the team is your family - the closest thing you have to a family. And you've missed them all terribly.

You nod and take a sip of your coffee as JJ and Rossi enter the room. When they see you, they glance uncertainly at Emily, as if they're not sure if it's just imagination, but she nods at them. And that's when all the dams break for JJ.

She pulls you from your chair and hugs you like the salvation of the world depends on it, and David has to pry her cramped arms from you so he can put his around you as well. They affirm to you how much they missed you and ask how you are, wanting to know what happened, but Tara and Penelope join them and that's when it gets too loud for you.

Penelope cries with joy and Tara also can't believe that you are standing in front of her. They besiege you and ask you questions to which you have no answers, so you just smile weakly at them. They definitely don't mean any harm, after all, you've just risen from the dead for them, but you've spent the last while in silence and are no longer used to this volume. So you turn away from them. They look anxiously after you as you sort of flee from them. You hope that this will make the headache go away.

Without paying much attention to where you're going, you find yourself facing the wall where the pictures of the deceased agents hang. And yours is hanging there, too. You don't know how long you've been standing in front of it - minutes? hours? -until a familiar voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

"Y/N?"

You turn around and there stands Spencer. His hair is a little shorter and he looks like he's seen a ghost. Well, he sort of has.

You want to throw yourself into his arms, kiss him, and never let him go. Seeing him knocks the air out of your lungs, which is why you can barely breathe. The two years without him had been hell on earth, but you got through them. For him.

For Spencer, who doesn't take his eyes off you as the blonde woman next to him, whose fingers are intertwined with his, looks at him and asks, "Honey, who's that?"

- tags -

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[hotwings0203]

i’m thinking abt Police officer reader arresting scummy smexy Touya. Like he smirks when she arrests him and cuffs his hands to his back. I want him in me fr 😍‼️

Tw:none really, maybe sexual harassment and implied noncon

“Officer 776, we got a black sedan coming up your way on I-10. Do you copy?”

You sign and turn your music off before reaching for your walkie talkie and responding, “Yes, I copy.”

And sure enough, the only car that zooms by at 2 am on a Saturday night is a black sedan. It’s a shame, really, you were enjoying the city view by yourself without anyone to keep an eye on. You’re usually posted for ticket duty, but this time you got promoted for night watch.

You would’ve liked to continue leaning back in your seat and watch the only sky slowly dust with stars, but duty calls as the blue custom headlights go streaking past you.

Begrudgingly, you pull your driving handle back and start going after him, turning your lights on in the process and raising the siren.

You’re not even surprised when it takes some slight honking and almost a two mile mini-chase to get the car to pull over at the side of the gravelly road.

The car in front of you stalls, and you observe the status of the car itself. It’s hard to make out the look of the vehicle in the dark even with your headlights blaring in front of it, but you guess it’s a Mazda sedan or something of the sort just like how your higher-up said.

You take a deep breath and gather your flashlight as you open your door and swing outside.

On the short walk to the driver’s side you notice darker marks on the car…almost like they were scorch marks.

That’s strange.

The window is tinted and up. You roll your eyes in annoyance and give three sharp raps to the glass.

“Open the window and keep your hands on the steering wheel after.”

You wait a moment. It doesn’t budge.

A crease appears in your eyebrows and you quickly glance around. It’s completely deserted, just you and the perpetrator.

“I’m gonna have to ask you once more. Open the window otherwise-“

You cut off as the black glass slowly rolls down, revealing a man with ivory hair and black tips at the ends, his face scarred but astonishingly handsome. His mouth, eyebags, lower half of his face and ears are laced with silver piercings…stitches? Maybe, but whatever. Focus on the task at hand.

“What can I help you with meter maid?” Comes his sleazy, gravelly voice.

You lean down and rest an elbow on his lowered window, squinting at his smug face. His eyes are crinkled with the slight upturn of his lips, imitating a crude smirk.

No ones in the car with him, but you can faintly smell some kind of skunk aroma, and alarm bells go off in your head.

“Sir, do you know how fast you were driving?”

“Fast enough apparently, if I copped a sexy thing like you all for myself.”

He props his chin on his scarred hand and rests his elbow right next to yours, mocking your petulant expression.

You grimace and move your hand away from his. He pouts as you continue berating him.

“It’s 2am on a weekend, sir. Where were you headed off to that you had to be there in such a rush?”

The man sighs loudly and lets his head fall back against his leather seat, lips puffing out and fingers moving to drum against his steering wheel.

“Oh you know, the usual. Fucking bitches, getting money, anything a no-good handsome bastard like me does on the regular. Not like I’d expect you to know, meter maid.” He smirks showing his white canines and slowly looks you up and down.

When you scowl he raises his hands innocently and shrugs.

“Just kidding sweetheart. I was actually on my way to burn a few bodies, I’m a hit man y’know. Very much on the wanted list. I’m good at what I do…if you ever need a man, or a body,just call me.” He winks and his infuriating grin doesn’t falter as you yank open the door and practically throw his lanky figure out of the car.

He doesn’t put up any effort of resistance, just lets you push him down by the neck onto the hood of his car, his body bent as you begin searching him.

You know you smell some type of drug in the car but you’re not actually rooting through his pockets looking for gold. You just want a little bit of saving-face from his sleazy mouth.

He exhales and laughs as his cheek smushes against the black steel, his breath puffing up condensation on the hood while you pat his sides down.

“Put your hands on the car sir, and don’t move unless you want to be taken into a cell overnight.” You mutter as you feel his studded belt, his white tee revealing a toned yet sharp body underneath.

The man sighs in faux annoyance. “What’s with the attitude babe? If you’re feeling me up you might as well lose that cold shoulder. The name’s Touya by the way, I would’ve given it to you sooner if I knew you just wanted to get under my pants.”

You freeze as his words register right when you pay down his inner thighs for any suspicious substance-just following protocol.

Nevertheless, you instinctively shoot your hands to your side and sputter indignantly.

“You-you can’t talk to an officer like that! Are you drunk? Count to 100 for me.” You try to divert the conversations to where you have the upper hand, but you should’ve known Touya wasn’t gonna let it be that easy.

“Sure thing meter maid. It’s 1-800-*******.”

“What?”

“That’s my number. Be grateful, I don’t usually give opps my digits that easily, but you’re giving me a fun time so why not?” He cranes his head toward you and licks his lips seductively.

You’re thankful for the darkness of the night, for you can surely feel the best rise to your cheeks at his blatant…flirting?

“Shut up. Just let me do my job asshole.”

The walkie talkie crackles with static as your supervisor calls in to check on how you’re doing, but before you can speak into it Touya cries out suddenly.

“Help! Oh, help me officer! This meter maid is touching all over my little willy! She has ulterior motives I swear it!” He moans loudly and you snap the device shut before turning to him.

“Are you fucking crazy? Do you want me to get fired?” You hiss, but all you get in return is a maniacal grin.

“Sure, ‘means you can fuck around without any protocol then, right?” The man starts arching his hips up in a perverse manner and shoves his ass back into your torso.

You snarl and reach over his back, grabbing both of his hands and slapping a pair of cuffs on him before manhandling him the other way, his face finally aligned with yours, back against the cool steel.

“Oh, so you like it rough, huh?”

You ignore him and drop to a squat, taking his combat boots off less-than-gently and shaking them out for any real baggie.

“Shoulda’ told me sooner doll, we could’ve gotten this along wayyyy sooner.”

You slowly raise your eyes up and take in an eyeful of his thrusting hips mere inches from your eyes.

He’s looking down at you with one eyebrow raised and his usual smirk adorning his features.

Your blood rushes through your body like you just ran a marathon, and you abruptly stand before him, making sure your shoulder checks his straining bulge on your way up.

He yelps and doubles over, unable to clutch his prized possession.

This time when he straightens up with a twisted scowl, you’re the one grinning at him instead.

“Yeah, you’re right, actually. If you’re gonna get me fired anyways might as well do what I want, right?”

You open his passenger door and give him an innocent smile as he watches you warily.

After about 10 minutes of looting through his car and trunk, sure enough you produce a couple of large ziploc bags filled with white powder and copious amounts of cash under thinly concealed pockets in the back.

You hold all of these findings up, and each one of the revelations are either met with a mocking pout or a careless shrug.

Your skin starts to get hotter despite the chill of the night as none of your efforts to match his energy are met with any fruition. In fact, it seems to rile him up more.

“Looks like you’re getting tired hon. Why not use all that energy on this dick?”

“Hmm, I guess you’re not very good at this job, huh? You’d be better as some kind of stripper. Actually, nah, that’s too good of a job for you, maybe a prostitute stuck in my bed would satisfy you.”

On and on he goes as you practically raid his car, even throwing out belongings that aren’t in any way questionable.

Eventually you reach your tipping point. You make sure he’s watching you as you walk around back towards him and plant your feet squarely in front of him, taking your stance.

You reach into your pocket to produce your walkie, cock your arm back, and throw it as far as you can into the surrounding field.

“Where’s that smile now Touya? You scared you can’t defend yourself without anyone on the other side listening in?”

The ivory haired man shakes his head and sighs as if dealing with a grace loss. Your own brows furrowed as he looks up at you with a sorrowful expression, one that doesn’t quite scream sincere when the car lights reflect an excited gleam in his cerulean eyes.

“Nah, sweetheart. I’m actually more worried for you.”

And with a sound as soft as bell chimes, the tugs his hands at the back for a moment and brings his arms forward, palms spread and showing you cuff-less palms of blue hellfire.

He thinks you look pretty when the blue light reflects pure terror on your shadowed face.

“That was a stupid move, throwing your only hope of salvation away. I wasn’t lying, y’know. I really am a hit man. But I’ll take my own offer.”

As you turn to begin to sprint away he smiles again, this one more earnestly remorseful.

“I’ll be a hit man and a body you need for tonight.”

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

John Munch / Simple

Prompt: “Suck it” “oh i’m gonna suck something” 

Word Count: 3,887 

Warnings: canon typical situations and violence, discussion of rape (non-graphic), hurt/comfort apparently, fin and munch are literally some of my fav characters to write for lmao, some discussion of the psych evals from 1x22

A/N: what is this? how did this happen? I don’t know - i blame @laneygthememequeen​ mostly, but also my friends for enabling me beyond belief lmao. 

“Am I allowed to come in or must I bow and show my allegiance before I am deemed worthy?” and you didn’t need to look up from your desk to know who it was. Your pen still moved, scribbling notes in the margins of the answer that was given to you by Roger Klessler — more hassle than law. 

“No need for allegiance, Detective Munch — I know you only give that to your squad and your string of conspiracy theories,” you finish with the page, sparing him a glance, “only compliance is needed — the one thing you didn’t do on the last case.” 

“Your hands aren’t exactly clean yourself, counselor,” he shuts the door behind him, slipping his hands into his pockets, “what did you do to get that warrant again?” 

You raise an eyebrow, “Are you questioning my integrity?” 

“Funny, I didn’t know lawyers had any,” 

“They don’t, but I can try, can’t I?” you lean on your elbow, “what do you need?” 

“We have a suspect in holding who just invoked, we thought they might be a little more conducive to having an A.D.A. in the box with them,” he tilted his head. 

“Alex isn’t available?” 

“Alex told us to get you,” you held in your sigh, “don’t you lawyers talk to each other?” 

“No, we communicate through telepathy,” you reply drily, grabbing your coat and bag, “Let’s go.” 

~~~

“Counselor, you should remind your client that his options are running out,” to say this meeting was going poorly would have been the understatement of the century, “and my patience is running thin.”

A serial child and women abuser — with videos abusing so many children and women over the last twenty years, videos that made your stomach turn — and to make matters worse, he had made into a business, selling these children and women and their pain for profit — and now it was time to make his pain your profit. 

“You have no evidenc—” 

“We have a witness who saw your client, we have his DNA being run against the blood that was found at the scene, and when it comes back it will match and your client will be facing life in prison—” your teeth grit,  “And I’ll be sure he gets it. Or, give up your sick buddies. And maybe you’ll have the possibility of parole in the far off future.” 

“You fucking bitch—” he spits at you. 

“Is that the best you can do?” you raise an eyebrow, as you see Munch tense out of the corner of your eye, “Mr. Bradford,  I’m not scared of you. I’m not a defenseless child or battered woman you can intimidate—” you cross your arms, “not so easy picking on someone who can fight back, is it?” 

 Bradford lunges,  but Munch shoves him back into his chair, “Do we need to add assault on an A.D.A. to your laundry list of charges, Bradford?” and you blink, slack jawed, a shiver going down your spine — if Munch was a second later— “Try that again and I’ll have you—” 

There’s a knock on the window, and your eyes snap over, “Control your client, counselor, or I’ll have him locked up in solitary,” your jaw is set — you wouldn’t give him the pleasure of seeing you waver, “the offer had 24 hours — it now has an expiration date in ten, so look forward to hearing from you in one.” 

The door shuts behind you, your fingers white knuckling the handle of your briefcase. Liv frowns, “Are you—” 

“I’m fine,” you wave them off, as Munch emerges from the room as well, “tell me when he caves to my offer. And when you’re setting up the sting to get the other guys — I want to be there to make everything go smoothly. No screw ups this time.” 

“All due respect, counselor, but we don’t need a babysitter,” Fin says. 

“All due respect, Detective, maybe you do,” you swallow the lump sitting on your throat, “we need to nail these guys — we have all of New York, 1PP, and the D.A.’s office all breathing down our necks — it needs to be airtight,” you scan all of their faces, “unless all of you would like to take the heat?” 

“I don’t think any of us want that, counselor,” Cragen cuts in, “we appreciate your help. We’ll let you know when we decide to go ahead with the sting.” 

You nod curtly, intent on leaving the precinct as quickly as you could — the image of Bradford lunging at you still fresh and stinging — but nothing was that easy, “Counselor,” Munch was at your side, standing beside you at the elevators, as you pressed the button, “in a rush?” 

“To go home? Yes,” 

“I just wanted—” 

“Wanted what, Munch? What do you want?” you sigh exasperatedly, fighting a losing battle for your voice not to break, “I’m not in the mood for a verbal sparring match, so why don’t we take a rain check?” 

The elevator doors ding, and you step in, hoping to spare yourself the agony of a response, but he follows, the doors shutting behind him. 

But surprisingly his voice was soft,  “I wanted to make sure you were okay,” 

“I’m fine,” you cross your arms, hoping that it would hold you together, until you got to your office, “I’m not scared of him, Munch—” 

“I know you could kick his ass, counselor, I’m not asking you if you’re ready to go seven rounds in the ring with him—” he leans against the wall of the elevator, “I’m just asking if you’re alright.” 

You raise an eyebrow, “John Munch asking me if I’m alright? No sarcastic remark?” 

“I know, I’m surprised myself, I might have to ask Skoda to do a psych eval on me,” and you crack a smile, shaking your head. 

“It was scary,” you admit, something you didn’t want to, “I’ve been threatened before — messages, verbally, even had a guy say he would kill my family—” you bite your lip, “but I never had someone try something, physically before.” 

“It’s okay to have been scared, y’know,” the elevator doors ding, and you step out, shaking your head, “no one expects you to be strong all the time, counselor.” 

And you pause, looking back at him, “But I do,” you blink away the tears, “good night, detective.” 

~~~

“It’s too risky!” you ignore Munch, continuing to fix your makeup, “You saw how you acted when Bradford lunged at you — why—” 

“I would do anything to make sure these men get put away,” you finish your makeup, grabbing the outfit Liv had handed you, “and that includes this.” 

This being an undercover operation designed to get names of victims, ages, and dates if possible, before arresting the group for exchanging pictures and videos of their crimes. 

“Putting yourself in the middle of this chaos? You’re being reckless—” 

You slide past him and into a bathroom stall, “I know what I’m doing,” 

“Do you? Do you know how many things could go wrong?” he continues, “I could list them for you for posterity — assault, battery, rape, and let’s not forget murder—” 

“I don’t think Liv will let me get murdered when she’s in the room with me, and I would you, Fin, Stabler, and the Captain wouldn’t either—” 

“Things go wrong on these ops, counselor — the field isn’t as safe as a courtroom — court officers, a metal detector right outside—” 

His words fail when the door swings open, a skin tight bodysuit clung to your figure, crimson, just as his ears nearly were, his eyes raking over your outfit, before finding their way back to your raised brows, “You were saying?” 

He stumbles over his words, “I was saying that—” you cross your arms, waiting and he finds himself distracted all over again, before he shakes himself from his stupor, “I was saying that this is too dangerous—” 

“Munch—” you cut him off, “I appreciate your concern, really I do, but I’m going to nail these guys anyway I can, so you can’t change my mind,” your hand finds his shoulder, squeezing, “but I can count on you to have my back right?” 

He simmers, sighing, his eyes softening, “Of course,” and you squeeze his shoulder, and he calls after you as you head towards the squadroom,  “I just hope they taught you taekwondo in law school,” 

“And I hope you know by ‘having my back,’ I meant more than my ass,” you flash him a smile over your shoulder, shaking your head, and flexing your fingers. 

It would be fine. 

You would be fine. 

~~~

It wasn’t fine. He couldn’t find you. 

“Where is he? Where is that son of a bitch, he took—” 

“Munch, calm down,” Liv starts, and he’s shaking his head, his finger in his face. 

“You were supposed to watch them, you were supposed to—” 

“Hey, Munch,” Elliot cuts between him and his partner, his hand on his shoulder,  “we all were there, Bradford slipped out during the raid, there wasn’t anything we could do. We’re going to find them.” 

Munch brushes him away, finding Fin, “Where are we on Bradford?” 

“Got him sneaking out during the takedown,” Fin points you out in the crowd, “looks like he had a knife pressed against counselor’s back, just out of view.” 

“How the hell did that scum sucking, gangrenous low life of a—” 

“Looks like he stole it off one of his buddies he was setting up,” Fin rewinds the tape, and points it out, “lifts it right from his pocket.” 

“Where does he go?” Fin fast forwards, until he gets to the cameras outside, shooting from the van itself. 

“He steals a car down the street, must belong to that brownstone,” Fin shoves the equipment at another officer, “Let’s get the license plate and get a bolo out.” 

Liv and Elliot join the two of them, handing a report to Fin, “We got a list of places that Bradford was known to hang out at—” 

“What are we waiting for?” Munch brushes past them to the car, rounding the car to the driver’s seat, pulling it open, before Fin stops him. 

“I’m driving,” Fin says, holding his hand, and Munch opens his mouth to rebut, “do we really have time to argue right now?” 

Munch glares at him, before handing him the keys, “You better not abide by any traffic laws,” 

“Do I ever?” 

~~~

“Can we go any faster than this? I swear my great uncle could drive faster than this,” Munch expects his partner to be angry, but he’s only sighing and shaking his head, “what?” 

And Fin side eyes him, “If you’re in love with—” 

Munch gapes at him, “I’m not—” 

“--then why don’t you just say something, man?” Fin scoffs, “you can deny it all you want, explain it away with one of your crazy ass conspiracy theories, but it’s there, John.” 

Munch pulls off his glasses, running his hand over his face, fingers resting right below his nose, “You know every time I got married, I thought I was in love,” 

“I know, and then your ex-wives screwed you — what about it?” 

“This is different,” he sighs, “and I don’t want to admit that to myself.” 

“What’s so bad about that, Munch? You want to try again,” and Munch is shaking his head. 

“You know a psychiatrist once told me that the reason all my marriages failed was because I chose women who were spoiled, beautiful, and not my intellectual equal?” 

“Meeting some of your ex-wives, I could believe that,” Fin’s eyes fall back to the road, “what’s your point?” 

Your name slips from his lips, “this is different — this is someone’s who's my equal — smarter than me, beautiful— it could — we could be—” he cuts off, “I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose--” and he cuts off, sighing, “I don’t know.” 

“Well that’s easy, John,” Fin pulls over, the car screeching as it does, “we won’t,” and he jerks his head, “whose car does that look like?” Munch calls in the car, unbuckling himself and slipping from the car, “We have to wait for back-up—” 

“I’m not waiting—” before he adds, “you don’t have to come—” 

“I’m not letting your bony ass get shot again,” Fin is already shutting the car door, pulling his gun out, “let’s go.” 

~~~

“Are you scared now?” Bradford asks, circling you — a predator gauging its prey — no, he was simply playing with you now. Your wrists flex against your restraints, the wood grain of the chair digging into your skin the more you struggled, the rope around your wrists ungiving, “are you, counselor?” 

It was rhetorical — judging by the tape stuck to your lips and the fact he continued to speak, and his fingers fist into your hair, pulling your head back, “Come on, no smart remarks now?”

Are you that stupid that you’ve forgotten that you taped my mouth over? 

No, wait he was that stupid. 

And he slaps you — the sting of his palm against your cheek dazes you a moment, and then his fist lands a blow in your stomach, choking on the same air you breathed, tears burning before slipping down your cheeks. 

“Do you think this is bad?” and now he’s holding your face between his fingers, nails digging into your cheeks, and he grins, a shiver going down your spine,  “just wait.” And he disappears a moment, his shadowy figure rifling through a bag on a table. 

Your eyes darted around, looking for something that could help you, something to help you escape, but nothing was within reach. Your chest squeezed — what if you died here? What if you never saw your family again? What if you never saw your friends again? What if they never found your body? Fear claws up your throat, eyes burning. 

What if they found your body? 

What if Munch found your body? 

You had promised him you’d be careful, but you were careless. You didn’t watch Bradford close enough, you didn’t stick with Liv, you were stupid — so stupid. 

And you wondered if he’d rape you before he was done — if they would find your body like so many victims that came across your desk. You wondered if he’d kill you at all — or just let you live with the memories of his torture. 

And you didn’t know what was worse. 

But then something clatters in the distance, and his head is whipping around, there are footsteps, and he’s grabbing a knife, cutting your restraints free,  “Come here bitch,” he mutters, hurrying to cut the ropes, at your feet before moving to the ones at your wrists,  “they aren’t taking me before I get a chance to slit your throat.” 

Blood roaring in your ears, you know you have to do something — he’s almost done cutting the last rope at your wrist. You couldn’t wait for help. 

You rear your head back, before smashing it into his, hard. His groan gets caught in his throat, as you lunge for the knife, the handle within grasp of your fingers, and you’re trying to crawl away, a deep ache in your skull. You’re stumbling to your feet, but his fingers close around your ankle. 

“I should have fucking killed you from the start,” and you kick him with your free foot, hearing him scream and the satisfying crack of his nose breaking, gripping the knife in your hand and pushing yourself to your feet. 

And you rip the tape from your mouth, “Get the fuck away from me!” you point the knife at him, heart pounding against your ribcage, as he lays clutching his bloody nose. 

But he’s still getting to his feet, “You better hand over that fucking knife—” 

“You better not take another step before I blow your brains out,” and suddenly Fin and Munch are there, Fin stepping forward to arrest Bradford, as Munch is beside you. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” and he’s trying to ease the knife out of your fingers, but you won’t let go, “let go of the knife, it’s okay,” he’s murmuring in your ear, slipping the knife from your fingers, “you’re okay. I got you.” 

Your knees are buckling, and he’s holding you, your head buried in his chest, “I thought he was going to—” 

“I know,” he says softly, “I know, but you’re okay.” 

“Because of you,” And he’s helping you up, and police sirens in the distance, as he helps you out of the building, “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” he whispers, “I’m sorry,” 

“For what?” and his arm around you squeezes you gently. 

“For not saving you sooner,” And suddenly EMS and police are flooding the scene, Fin is shoving Bradford into a car. And you spot him, glaring, but Munch steps between his view, his arm around your shoulders, “don’t bother with that scum. He’s not worth it.” 

And he wasn’t — you knew he wasn’t, but you know that you wouldn’t be able to prosecute him now. But, you craned your neck to watch him be taken away, you wanted to see the bastard get put away at least. 

It’s over, you tell yourself as you rest your head against Munch’s shoulder. 

It was over. 

~~~

“I just want to go home,” you shake your head, but he pulls you along regardless, protesting all the same.

“Just let them look at you, please?” he asks, “if only for my sanity.” 

And you scoff softly, “I thought you lost that a long time ago,” 

“There’s that wit,” he replies, and you go with him, fingers intertwined with his. E.M.S. examines you, insisting on taking you to the hospital for a possible concussion. But you don’t want to — you just want to sleep, you want to take a shower, you want to forget this ever happened— 

“Please just let me go,” you’re pleading with him, tears slipping down your cheeks, “John, please let me go home.” and he’s wavering for a moment, before his hand is on your shoulder, gently pushing you back down. 

“I can’t, and you know that, counselor,” he never wanted to see you cry like this, he never wanted to see you as a victim — because you aren’t just another victim at his desk or in photos spread across his desk — you were you. 

But you were also a victim now. 

“Why not?” you lie against the pillow in defeat, tears slipping down your cheeks, and he’s leaning down to your level, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Because you’re hurt, and you need to be seen. I don’t trust doctors as much as the next conspiracy nut, but you still need to see one,” he tilts his head, “do you want me to come?” 

And you’re blinking back tears, before nodding, “I’m sorry, I’m—” 

“Don’t apologize,” he’s wiping your tears away, “don’t ever apologize for this.” 

~~~

You don’t remember much else — it’s a blur of testing, until finally they let you sleep. And you don’t know how long you sleep. But you don’t dream, and for that much, you’re thankful. You awake to the low hum of hospital machinery, and quiet voices in the room. And you blink, the fluorescents much too bright for you, and your eyes flutter shut again, before not before voices creep in. 

“—been asleep?” 

“It’s been a few hours,” Munch whispers, assumedly trying to keep from waking you, but that was out of the question already, “docs gave something for sleep.” 

“Have you said anything yet?” and it’s Fin asking. 

“When? In between the ambulance ride here and the C.A.T. scan and the fifty other tests they ran?” Munch replies drily, sighing, “it’s not the right time,” 

“You know there’s never going to be a right time, John,” and you’re grateful that you’re turned away from them, your brow furrowed, their voices growing louder, “you have to say something or is counselor a mind reader now?” 

“Well—” 

“Don’t spout another conspiracy theory or you’ll be the one in the hospital bed,” you could almost see Fin crossing his arms. 

“You know that psychiatrist also told me I could make a conspiracy theory from a five-year-old’s lemonade stand,” 

Fin raises an eyebrow, “Well now that I believe,” 

“What am I supposed to say?” Munch asks, “‘hi, I know you almost just died, but I think I’m in love with you?’” 

And your eyes snap open, the air sucked straight from your lungs — “It can be that simple,” 

He was in love with you? John Munch was in love with you. Your heart squeezed at the thought — you hadn’t a clue that he was. You knew he cared — but you didn’t know he… loved you.  

“Nothing is ever that simple,” and you turn around, the words leaving your lips without a thought. 

“It can be, John,” and both him and Fin’s gazes snap to you, a small smile on your lips, “if you let it be.” 

Munch is staring at you slack jawed, while Fin is grinning, elbowing him, “I’ll leave you two alone,” before he adds, “remember that there is an officer at the door—” 

“Fin—” and he’s gone, disappearing out of the door, and Munch is wiping a hand down his face, his cheeks flushed red, “so how much of that—” 

“All of it,” and he’s covering his hands with his face, “for someone who claims to be so evolved, you’re very cute when you’re embarrassed,” 

“I’m cute?” he repeats, and you hold out your hand to him, and he’s staring a moment — as if he can’t believe it — before taking your hand, “how cute?” 

You snort, “Just cute enough, don’t go getting an ego,” 

“You’re sure it’s not just the concussion? And the almost dying?” and you roll your eyes, tugging him closer, by his coat’s lapel, and he’s whispering your name. 

“How’s this for an answer?” and you kiss him — his lips barely brush yours a moment, but he’s already pulling you back in, parting and meeting until you hold him there a moment, fingers twisting in the hair resting on the small of his neck, “John—” you breath against his lips. 

“I don’t understand why…” he whispers, your foreheads brushing. 

“Why...?” 

“I don’t understand why me,” his fingers cup your cheek gently, as if you’d disappear between his fingers, “you could be with anyone — why would you choose this paranoid, old detective?” 

“Because it’s you,” you softly chuckle, and you draw your lips to his again, “and I wouldn’t want you any other way,” before you add, “except maybe sharing your feelings more so I don’t have to overhear any other conversations to know how you’re feeling.” 

“I could say the same to you, counselor,” 

“Excuse me, I said how I felt first,” you gape at him, in mock offense. 

“Only after hearing how I felt,” but you shrug, smiling as your noses brush. 

“Still, I was the first, so suck it,” you reply, and he laughs, a warm sound that makes your chest stir. 

“Oh,” his lips brush yours, a smile on his lips,  “I’m gonna suck something.” 

[zsocca55]

Hello There fellow Hungarian from Poland!

Do you have aby headcanons about Poland or Polish and Hungarian Relations?

Yay, another Pole! :D Much, much love from Hungary to you guys! ❤️❤️❤️ I tried to summarize my thoughts in short sentences but….eh… sorry for the length of this, but there is like, a ton of history to work with, and one idea popped up after another and then I just got lost typing this. I might as well write a whole book about it. XD

These are listed in more or less historical order. Am I doing this right? I’m bad at making headcanons! Also my interpretation of Poland is very different from his Hetalia presentation and my notes are based heavily on how Poland and Polish people are perceived in Hungary. Sorry if that bothers anyone, but I like to stay accurate to History.

Anyway, I hope this list satisfies!

Poland:

-Used to be really childish and carefree but after the partitions he matured rather quickly

-He is quite the attention-seeker, very social and has many friends but only a few real ones and he has trust issues and fear of abandonment - that’s why he can get very clingy

-Has pride like the size of the moon

-Communicates his emotions poorly - which results in him sometimes mistreating people he likes (Lithuania and Ukraine for example) - he is getting better at reading people though

-He is a “lets get shit done” type of person - you give him a job and he will do it impeccably and in time

-He appears like this happy-go-lucky guy, but it’s actually a coping mechanism

-When he feels down, he becomes emotional - and drinks a lot - he is an emotional drunk

-Had a big fat crush on Ukraine (he even has a folk song dedicated to her, Hej Sokoły!)

-Complains a lot - like a really lot

-Poland keeps old gifts he received from his great kings and queens in a safe (nobody knows about it though)

-The partitions caused him to lose consciousness for weeks. It was the shock of losing his identity as a ‘state’. All countries involved believed that he would die.

-Poland lived with Russia between 1795-1918 due to Russia possessing most of his territory. But he often made official visits to Austria and Prussia to negotiate the treatment of his people with them. He also got away on his own a few times (to help out Hungary in 1848-49 for example).

-Poland accompanied Tadeusz Kościuszko to America, but couldn’t stay for long. Youthful America’s enthusiasm inspired him a lot.

-He is a very bad driver, and had so many accidents he doesn’t keep count, but he is a skilled pilot so he often complains about not being allowed to fly around instead of driving around.

Poland and Hungary:

-Poland was also victim of Hungarian tribal attacks before the 10th century so his boss decided to befriend the new southern neighbour in hopes of making an ally. At first Hungary thought Poland was a girl while he thought she was a boy.

-Hungary first met a Polish tribe called “Lendzianie” and so she named his people “lengyel”. Poland never corrected her though.

-They paid visits to each other often during the early decades of the 10th century and played a lot. Once they jumped in a lake for fun’s sake, without clothes, and Poland quickly realized that Hungary is in fact a girl but he hadn’t got the heart to break the news to her because she was so confident in being a boy.

-They got distanced whenever internal crisises rose in their countries. Even up to this day, if one of them has an internal struggle, the other doesn’t pry and keeps a respectful distance. They respect each others boundaries in every way.

-Poland and Hungary were married twice, but all they ever did was giggle about it like the young teens they were and caused a lot of trouble for their kings with their pranks and mischiefs.

-Poland never understood why Hungary’s attention turned towards Austria in the 1400s though. Hungary also never understood why his attention turned towards Lithuania either.

-Poland and Hungary have a very similar residing scar running in three directions across their bodies which are testimony to them being thorn in three. Poland during the partitions and Hungary during the Ottoman-Habsburg invasions when she was also basically three entities in one.

-Poland fought with Hungary against Austria in 1848-49 but was dragged back by Russia when Hungary lost. He learned of her marriage to Austria through a newspaper much later and was severely disappointed in her.

-Poland tried to negotiate with the Allies in order to save Hungary from being chopped up and lose their shared border, but France faced him with a decision: either shut up and get a place on the map or refuse the treaty and have less territory. Poland never ratified the treaty but he still resents not fighting it more.

-Hungary tried to help Poland during his war with the soviets in 1920-22 but because Czechoslovakia refused to grant access to him out of spite, she turned to Romania of all people, pleading him to help. Romania actually helped.

-Hungary was pretty shaken and isolated from everyone after WW1. Only Poland and North Italy reached out to her, searching ways to keep in contact.

-Hungary resents joining the wrong side in WW2, which made her and Poland enemies. She tried to make the best of the situation and help Poland when her troops were stationed on his territory. They met accidentally in a forest while Poland was marching with partisans towards Warsaw in 1944. She helped him out but Prussia found them and Hungary pretended to take Poland hostage in order to release him later during the night. Her men were killed for fraternizing with the enemy.

-During the German occupation in Poland it was forbidden to listen to Polish nationalist songs and so Hungary and her men played “God save Poland” on repeat just because they could and Poland and his people were very thankful for it.

-When the Iron Curtain was drawn, Hungary hid away in her land, depressed, but Poland kept fighting the new rule until the Poznan protests inspired the uprising in Budapest in 1956. Originally Hungary organized a solidarity march for him but it turned into a freedom fight. She was struck down by Russia though, leaving her bleeding out on her streets with a hole in her chest. Poland flew to Budapest and offered his own blood to save her. Hungary remained unconsious for a week until she woke up. He was at her bedside the whole time.

-Poland often jokes about Hungary probably inheriting his “immortality” because of the blood transfusion.

-Hungary hid away again after 56. He tried to help Hungary get over her trauma by visiting her often during the rest of their years in the Soviet Union, but something broke in her and he didn’t really know what to do.

-This put a certain distance between them.

-After the USSR fell, Poland was quick to make new friends and make up with his neighbours but Hungary came out of her shell much slower. She did admire him for his strength to move on. He also encouraged her a lot to get up and improve her country.

-Hungary considers him her only real friend. She doesn’t trust anybody else with her life anymore. Out of gratitude, she decided to declare a special day for Poland (March 23) and when he heard of it, he actually teared up.

-Nowadays they visit each other on their Independence Days and celebrate together. They also go and cheer for each other’s football teams with hundreds of Poles chanting “Ria, ria, Hungaria!” and hundreds of Hungarians chanting “Polska! Polska!” on the streets.

-After hearing the song “Varsó hiába várod” from the band Republic, Poland thought Warsaw is indeed too far from Budapest so he made a plan to build a railroad so they can come and go between each other’s capitals in five hours. The idea is under construction at the moment.

-Poland and Hungary like to think that they are the heart of V4.

-Hungary goes along with whatever mischief or prank Poland makes up. And vica versa.

-They also promote their friendship with so much enthusiasm that Romania often calls them out for being too mushy.

.

Uh, thanks for reading through this! I know this is a lots of text, I get carried away when making up ideas. I’m unable to summarize my thoughts in short sentences. I don’t have the ability.

Also 50% of this is not even headcanon, some of these really happened or are happening.

Anyway, I hope I answered your question! :’)

[slafkovskys]

me, you, and the stars / j. norris

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

my masterlist!

title from summer days by martin garrix

warnings(s): swearing, nsfw content (18+), jealousy, josh is just an asshole for the first half idk, alcohol, mentions of underage drinking

word count: 4.9k

-

“look y/n, we're leaving whether you’re with us or not!” you hear josh’s familiar voice shout from the other side of the closed door. you hear a deep sigh before a thump, which you’re fairly certain is him propping himself against the wall.

“no you won’t!” you respond. you brush the tinted wand of your lip gloss over your lips before twisting the cap back on and dropping it back into your makeup bag. you take your phone off of the charger before walking back into your bedroom and across the floor to the door. you pull it open to find josh (unsurprisingly) still on the other side. “well well well, what do you know? you’re still here.”

“you don’t have to act like such a brat,” he grumbles. he pushes away from the wall and takes in your choice of outfit, raising an eyebrow, “that’s what you’re wearing?”

“i’m not doing this with you tonight, josh. last time i checked, i’m an adult and i didn’t ask for your opinion. if you don’t like my outfit, you are more than welcome to stay behind and cry about it and i’ll make sure to have a couple drinks for you,” you roll your eyes as you smooth down your dress, a loose little number that fell from thin spaghetti straps and fell just at the middle of your thighs.

“i just don’t want to have to watch over you all night. guys are- they’re gross y/n,” he’s a couple of steps behind you on the stairs as he starts his little spiel. “i don’t want you to be exposed to that.”

“then why the hell did you invite me to come if you’re just going to be overbearing the whole time? besides, like i said before, i’m twenty years old and i haven't needed a babysitter since the third grade. if i can survive your friends, i should be able to survive a bonfire with a couple of strangers.”

you don’t tune in for his response as you walk out of the front door of the rented cabin and towards the truck. the passenger seat, which had always been designated as yours ever since he’d gotten his license, was empty and the rest of the group that was riding with you was piled into the back. you pull open the back door and will looks at you confused. you jut out your bottom lip and look at him with pleading eyes, “will you take shotgun?”

“what’s the problem now?” he slides out of the backseat anyway and takes the passenger seat while you take his seat.

“i don’t wanna talk about it,” you buckle your seatbelt and cross your arms over your chest, turning your head to look out of the window when josh opens the driver’s side door.

“seriously?” he scoffs when he finds one of his best friends where you were supposed to be. it wasn’t rhetorical, but you act like it was as you turn your body away from his watchful eyes. “whatever.”

he pulls away from the house with the rest of your group following behind in a separate car. your destination was another cabin not far from your own for a bonfire put on by someone who you didn’t even know. hunter had found out about the party on his trip to the grocery store with coale earlier in the day and once the information was shared with the group that there was allegedly going to be free alcohol, it wasn’t hard to get everyone on board.  

the cabin was a little ways down the road, not that far but still too far to walk. when josh pulls behind the already long line of cars in the driveway, you all pile out and head for the house where everyone immediately splits up into their own groups.

emily tried to convince you to come with her and kate outside, but you declined, promising to join them a little while later instead. you quickly found the alcohol piled into a plastic bin on the counter, fish yourself out a can, and retreat to the living room.

your eyes scan the room. there were already loads of drunk twenty-plus-year-olds stumbling around and you even noticed some teenagers who had either convinced their parents to let them come or snuck out, making the rounds as well. your knack for observing caused you to focus on a boy.

he couldn’t be older than you, not by much if he was, and he was staring right back at you. unlike you, though, he wasn’t alone. he was quick to abandon whatever conversation he was having before to make his way across the room once he realized that you had noticed him. you turn your head quickly and your cheeks burn at the realization that you had been caught.

you don’t have time to slip away before he’s standing in front of you. his grin is soft as he speaks, “hi.”

you swallow, heart-pounding for some unknown reason, before lifting your head to meet his eyes. you muster your best ‘i’m fine i swear’ smile, “hey there.”

“i hope i’m not bothering you or anything. i just saw you standing over here by yourself and figured i would just come over to make sure that you’re okay?” he scratches the back of his neck.

“aw, that’s sweet of you,” you say, running a hand through your hair. “i’m okay, i just kind of like to know my surroundings, get a feel of the place before i really do anything. weird habit i guess.”

his eyes track your can as you raise it to your lips, “no, no, you’re fine. i’m ben by the way.”

he holds out a hand to which you raise an eyebrow at. he notices and pulls it away quickly. you shake your head and giggle softly, “i’ve just never had a guy try and shake my hand at a party before, ben, but i’m y/n. it’s nice to meet you.”

“you too,” he moves to lean against the wall beside you, his shoulder barely touching yours. “are you from here?”

“no actually. just visiting with some friends on vacation. i’m from oxford,” he raises his eyebrows. you wave your free hand around, “it’s in-”

“i know where it’s at. one of my buddies is from there, i’ve just never met anyone else who was,” he grins. “i’m not from here either. grew up outside of toronto for a little bit and i’ve kind of been a bit of everywhere since.”

“so you’ve traveled a lot?” you ask, turning your body towards his. he hums and you raise your eyebrows, “i want to do that so badly. it’s, like, on the top of my bucket list.”

“you don’t get to travel much?”

“i mean, not really. i’ve been to dallas, new york, the ‘bigger’ places. the only place outside of the us that i’ve been is ottawa which is not that extravagant if i’m honest,” the thought of josh crosses your mind at the mention of ottawa, but it’s gone almost as quickly as it came when ben chuckles.

“why specifically ottawa? it’s not usually people’s first choice,” he raises his eyebrow and you shrug. “it’s complicated?”

“a little bit. anyways, what brings you here? do you know who owns this place?” you ask and his face flushes.

“um, i do. well, not me. my dad does. he let me borrow it for the week so i packed up a couple of my friends and borrowed the family dog and here i am,” he watches as you perk up at the mention of a dog. “do you want to meet him?”

“he’s here? can i?” it doesn’t take much for you to follow him away from the living room and down the hallway. he pushes open a door and (though it wasn’t your smartest decision to follow a stranger into a room) you're met with the sight of a dog. you gasp and he lifts his head, standing up with a stretch as you bend down. he moves off of his very comfortable-looking bed and moves in between your open arms. you squeal, “hello!”

“his name is tex, short for texas,” ben takes a seat on the bench beside the washing machine and watches as you embrace the golden retriever. “he likes you.”

“what’s not to like?” you question, looking up at the brunette with a smile. tex huffs as he takes a seat and you squeeze him gently, “you’re just the sweetest boy, aren’t you? i bet you’ve never done anything wrong in your entire life.”

“he’s does have a knack for shoes-” you cut ben off with a glare and he raises his hands in surrender, “you’re right. he’s never done anything in his entire life.”

“good answer.”

you don’t know how long you were in there with ben, playing with tex and making small talk before someone stumbles inside. he looks between ben and you and smirks, “sorry ben. we’ll find somewhere else.”

you realize then that there was a girl behind him and your cheeks burn as he closes the door. you find a neon green rope and dangle it in front of tex who eagerly snatched it from your hand. “i should be getting back out there. thank you for letting me play with him.”

“actually, i was going to ask if you wanted to get out of here? we could drive around a little bit,” he’s nervous and that was something that you could tell right off the bat. “you just said that you don’t travel much and i know it’s nothing astronomical, but i could just show you some places around town.”

in your slightly not sober mind, it didn’t even click that it was well into the night. you smile, “that sounds good. let me go and tell my friends and i’ll meet you back in the living room?”

“sounds good,” he watches as you bid tex farewell and follows you out of the room. you part ways as you head off to look for someone that you knew. it didn’t take long before you found josh outside surrounded by people. while he was the last person you wanted to tell, almost everyone that you knew was with him and you were beyond ready to leave.

you make your way over, tugging on the sleeve of his t-shirt to get his attention. he tilts his head to the side and when he realizes it’s you, his hand comes to rest on the small of your back as he pulls you to his side. he bends down to hear you, “what’s up?”

you're very aware of the attention that you’ve drawn from the group, the females who didn’t know about yours and josh’s abnormally touchy relationship especially, but you just push yourself on your tiptoes so that your mouth is beside his ear, “i’m leaving.”

he makes a noise of disapproval, “with who?”

“ben,” you shrug as though it was nothing.

“who the hell is ben?”

“we met earlier. he’s gonna show me around.”

“it’s past midnight, y/n. the only place you’re going is back to the cabin and i’m going to be the one taking you there. now, if you want to go so badly, give me five minutes and we’ll leave.”

“no, josh,” you try to pull away from him, but he doesn’t allow it whatsoever. “let me go!”

“y/n,” he sighs, handing his cup off to will who dumps whatever was in there into his own and turns you both away from the group. he keeps an arm slung over your shoulder as he slowly walks you towards the house “i don’t know how much you’ve had to drink tonight, but obviously too much if you think i’m letting you leave with someone that you just met.”

“we met the other day, at the grocery store,” the lie slips easily from your lips but josh shakes his head. he’s known you long enough to know when you were lying and the way that you were avoiding his eyes told him everything that he needed to know. that and you had been very adamant on not tagging along for any grocery store runs since you had arrived. you groan once you realize that he’s not letting you off that easy and try, once again, to pull away from him, “it wasn’t even that much! and what about you? i don’t want you driving me home if you’ve been drinking!”

“i’m 6’1 and almost 200 pounds, princess. i’ve barely had one full beer and i’ve been sipping on that for about an hour. i’m perfectly fucking fine to drive,” he rolls his eyes. he walks you both through the house and points to the couch where two couples were making out, “if you don’t believe me we can sit right there and wait for half an hour. will that appease you?”

“i fucking hate you,” you spit, finally pulling away from his grasp. you storm towards the front door and throw it open, finding ben perched on the swing out front. he stands when he sees you and your eyes soften, “ben, i’m-”

“oh, so you’re ben?” josh slides up behind you and holds out his hand for ben, poor ben, who looks very confused as he reaches out to shake it, “‘m josh. thanks for offering to give my little y/n here a tour of the town at one o’clock in the morning, that was very, very kind of you, but she’s going to have to decline. you have a good one though.”

“i want to hear that from her,” ben looks at you almost hopefully. “y/n?”

“i’m sorry,” you mumble, turning away from him and making your way down to where josh had parked. he takes his sweet time making his way down the driveway and refuses to unlock the truck until his hand covers yours on the handle, “will you please just unlock the door?”

“lose the attitude,” he scoffs, “you didn’t even know him.”

“i was getting to know him josh. you always fucking do this,” you huff and he finally unlocks the door. his hand tightens on yours as you both pull on the handle. you rip your hand away as you lift yourself into the truck and sink onto the passenger seat. he watches as you reach out to pull the door closed. you pause to utter the words, “and i’m not yours so you can stop fucking saying it.”

before pulling the door closed rather forcefully. he scoffs and shakes his head, making his way around the front of the truck. he starts it and throws it in reverse, putting his hand behind your seat to look out of the back glass, “we’re talking about this when we get back.”

you lean forward and turn the radio up, drowning him out.

-

the second that he kills the engine, you snatch the keys from his hand and stomp towards the front door. you throw it open, not bothering to close it as you tossed the keys onto the counter and made quick work of going to your room, rushing to beat him because he could move a lot faster than you were able to.

you hear his loud footsteps echoing in the otherwise quiet house as he ascends the stairs after you. you make sure to slam the door when he’s barely six feet away and twist the lock.

“leave me alone!” you shout as you pull out a pair of shorts from your bag. you peel off your clothes and throw them in the pile along with your other dirty clothes and make your way into the bathroom.

you grab your toothbrush just as you hear the lock turning and you want to scream. you ignore him when he walks in, leaning against the door at first. when you don’t pay him any mind, instead grabbing your toothbrush. he grins knowingly, used to your antics, “you’re ignoring me now?”

when you don’t answer, he moves to stand behind you so that you would have to look at him in the mirror, but you only turn towards the door. he chuckles, “oh, you’re good.”

you for sure thought that he wouldn’t wait you out, but he seemingly had no problem doing so. he takes a seat on the edge of the bath and props his head in his hands, watching you intently as you start to take off your makeup. you pick up a bottle and he points his finger, “what’s that for?”

you continue your silence.

“you have to talk to me at some point. we’re here for three more days, y/n,” he sighs and you shake your head. you look into the mirror, connecting your eyes with his, and you open your mouth to speak. his eyebrows raise and he smirks, which causes you to close your mouth and grab a towel to dry your face.

you weren’t going to let him win.

when you turn to exit your bedroom, he follows quickly behind. you make your way into the kitchen and turn on your phone, connecting it to the speaker that sat on the counter. it was jack’s and he had specifically told everyone not to run the battery down because he had forgotten to bring the charger, but it was the only way that you would be able to drown josh out.

you pick your playlist and turn your volume all the way up before tucking your phone in the waistband of your shorts. you move over to stand in front of the sink, fishing out some of the dishes so you could start to fill the sink. josh leans over the other side of the counter, “you’re so pissed off at me that you’re doing the dishes? are you serious?”

you look up at him and point to yours, a silent way of saying ‘i can’t hear you.’ something changes in his eyes and you look down at the sink as he pushes away from the counter. in a matter of seconds, the speaker is turned off and his hands are on your hips. the music is still playing and you feel his hand pull your phone from its place. with one of his hands holding your phone, you're able to turn around, “hey!”

“hi,” he smirks knowingly. he pauses the music and pockets your phone in his jeans. you go to reach for it, but he grabs your wrist, “now, you can either continue to act like a brat or we can have an adult conversation.”

you glare at him, “i’ll keep being a brat, thanks. now leave me alone and give me back my phone.”

in an instant, he’s lifting you onto the counter. his hands cage you in and you look at him with wide eyes, “what is your problem, y/n?”

“i could ask you the same question, josh,” you hold his gaze. you wanted so badly to reach out and place your hand on his cheek, press your lips to his own, but you couldn’t. you shouldn’t. you were still mad at him. “you’re such a fucking cockblock and i’m sick of it.”

“it’s not my fault that you can’t take a fucking hint,” he rolls his eyes. you take a deep breath and he looks at you with an expression that seems almost shocked, “are you- why do you think i did that?”

“because you’re an asshole?” you accidentally touch your hand to his and you pull it away quickly.

“please don’t do that,” he sighs. he reaches for your hand and you let him curl his fingers around your own. it felt strange, it felt- it felt good. “you’re the only one that matters to me, y/n. why can’t you understand that? because i don’t know how much clearer i can be.”

“you’re drunk josh,” you repeat what you had said earlier when he offered to drive you home.

“you know damn well that i’m not, y/n.” and he was right. you know josh, been around him enough to know what he was like when he was under the influence and this, this wasn’t it.

“what do you mean?” you squeeze onto his hand. “you said that i’m the only one that matters to you. what do you mean?”

“i haven’t taken anyone home in almost a year because of you. even in belleville, even when i got called up. they tried to get me to hook up with someone but i couldn’t. you’re the only person that i want in my bed and you-” he pauses, shaking his head.

“what did i do, josh? you’ve been a total asshole to me and i’m supposed to realize that that means that you want me? what are we, eight?” you shake your head, untangling your  fingers from his. you lean back on the counter and he looks at you almost pleadingly, “you aren’t my boyfriend and you need to stop acting like it. this shit isn’t going to fly anymore.”

he goes quiet before he leans forward. his lips press to yours and a warm feeling takes over your body. you melt into him when he moves one of his hands to rest on your back and the other to rest on your cheek. his hand pulls you forward and you wrap your arms around his neck. he’s the one to pull away first, breathing heavily. his eyes are glazed over and by the way he’s gripping onto you, you can tell that he doesn’t want to let go. “was- is this okay?”

you squeeze his wrist on the hand that rested softly on your cheek as though he would slip away before you leaned back in after taking a deep breath. his hands slides up your back, slipping under the hem of your shirt and you pull away this time, pressing your nose into his neck, “not here. someone could walk- josh!”

you tighten your arms around his neck as he takes you down the hallway to what you knew to be his bedroom. he pushes open the door and drops you down onto the bed, which causes you to squeal as his body covers your own.

you run your hands along his shoulders and he slides his fingertips under your shirt. he’s nervous, you can tell, maybe a little hesitant as well.

“josh,” you call, running your index finger along his jaw, “this is okay with me. i promise you. is it okay with you?”

“more than okay,” he confirms, “are you sure that you want to do this? things won’t ever be the same if we do.”

why did he have to say that?

if it was anybody else, you wouldn’t have even had to think about it. if it was ben, it wouldn’t have meant anything. but this wasn’t just anyone. it wasn’t just ben who you had known all of an hour before you were willing to get into his car. this was josh who you had known since you were kids. josh that you had harbored a crush on since you were thirteen and he was fourteen. josh who you were forced to watch from a distance as he got older and buffer from the hours spent training, who you had to watch as he brought the occasional girl home to meet his mother.

you had never told anyone how you felt and no one ever seemed to notice, which was fine. perfect even. but now-

you look into his eyes as you whisper the single word, “please.”

that seems to be all he needs before he hooks his fingers in your shorts and tugs them downward, taking your panties with them easily. he tosses them to the side and chuckles as his fingers lightly run across your slit, “you’re already soaked.”

“i’ve been waiting a long time for this,” you admit, biting your lip as his thumb runs over your clit.

he sinks his index finger in slowly, pressing his lips to yours as you gasp. it doesn’t take long for him to work in a second before he speaks again, “why didn’t you say anything?”

“to be fair, i thought i was the last person that you wanted to sleep with. you aren’t the best at showing your emotions,” you grumble and he grins.

“you and your attitude,” he shakes his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he stretches you open. “what am i gonna do with you? don’t think that i’ve forgotten about how much of a little brat you were being earlier.”

“well,” in a sudden act of boldness, you move your lips to dance over his ear, “what are you gonna do about it? because as much as you seemed to want me out in the kitchen, you’re moving awfully slow.”

that seemed to ignite something inside of him.

it was only a couple of minutes later when both of your clothes were thrown about the room and he was ripping open a condom. you grin as he presses the tip to your slit, taking some of the wetness.

“josh,” you moan as he sinks in, slowly filling you. “fuck.”

“worth waiting for?”

“you pick the worst times to be an ass- holy,” you arch your chest into his as he bottoms out. you try and pull away but he wraps his arms around your thighs, keeping you still.

“that’s it, princess,” he coos, sucking a mark into your neck. “look so pretty on my cock. can’t believe i waited this long to see you like this, fuck.”

a whine forms in your throat as he pulls out, only to thrust right back in. he lets you dig your nails into his back as he finds his pace, finding your g-spot almost a little too quickly.

his hips snap against yours and his mouth makes its way from your neck to your breasts, taking the opportunity to leave hickeys there as well. there was no way in hell that you were going to be able to hide what had happened and you somehow find the words to voice that, “everyone’s gonna know.”

“fucking good,” he lands a particularly harsh against your spot, “want them to know that you’re mine. that they can’t have you. i’ve seen the way they look at you and i don’t like it.”

“we’re gonna have to work on that but now, i’m gonna-”

“you’re gonna ask me nicely,” his thumb finds your clit and he begins to circle. “you’re gonna show me that you can be good and say please.”

“i hate you,” your words have no real meaning and he knows that by the chuckle he has the audacity to let out. “please josh, please let me cum. i’ll be so fucking good, let everyone know i’m yours.”

“say it again,” he demands.

“i’m yours,” and that was the end.

you feel him spill into the condom before he give you permission, spilling over his cock as you tighten your arms around his neck and press your lips to his as you ride through the aftershock. he rocks upwards a few more times before slipping out and resting his head on your bare chest. his fingers run over one of breasts, “didn’t show these enough attention.”

“they’re covered in hickeys,” you breathe out, “they got the memo.”

you find yourself tangled under his covers not thirty minutes later, both fresh from the shower. you had spent minimal time actually under the water and more time-pressed against the wall with his lips pressed against yours.

your hand ran through his hair as his head rested on your naked chest. you can’t help but stare over his shoulder out of the large window that overlooked the lake. the stars were twinkling high above while everything else was quiet. too quiet.

wait-

you patiently wait until you were positive that he was asleep when you start to shift backward, trying to escape his grip. you had your feet on the ground, ready to search for your clothes before he makes a noise of protest.

“woah,” he says when you move to get out of the bed. his hand curls around your side and pulls you back to his chest, “what are you doing?”

“i’m going back to my room,” you look at him confused. “everyone’s bound to be home soon and i don’t want them to find us like this.”

“i don’t care if they see us, y/n. what part of you being the only one that i want didn’t you understand?” he sighs as he pushes your hair out of your face. you wrap one of your hands around his arm as he does so, “i don’t just want you for tonight. i want you for the long run, y/n. i don’t know exactly what that entails, but i do know that i want you to be here when i wake up in the morning. we can talk about it then, okay?”

you look into his eyes, trying to find any hint that he wasn’t telling you the truth, but you couldn’t. you relax into his chest and let his arms wrap around you once again, “in the morning.”

“in the morning,” he agrees and presses his lips to the top of your head.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Runaway Ride

Fandom: Never Have I Ever Pairing: Devi/Paxton Rating: T Word Count: 4889

Summary: Kamala gets herself into a pickle, Devi needs to go to her, and Paxton has a car. Problem-solving has never been so simple, but that's how it is when your new boyfriend is Paxton Hall-Yoshida. Throw in a little hand-holding on the highway and this family crisis might just be the best date Devi will ever have.

When they finally took a break from dancing—disconnecting hands from hips and shoulders, lips from lips—Devi stepped away in a dreamy headspace. She almost collided with Jonah, but he didn’t tell her to look where she was going, only offered a shrewd, indulgent smile.

Actually, everybody was treating her like that; every eye that caught hers on her way to the table where she’d left her stuff was unjudgmental, admiring, straight up fairy-godmotherly. Devi hadn’t received this much notice since her dad’s death and her subsequent paralysis. And those looks had been pitying, freaked out. Positive attention was new and cool and she wondered, as she grabbed her phone out of her turquoise clutch, whether her socials would show more of the same when she opened them. Would people have snapped stealthy pics of her and Paxton dancing now that she’d been vaulted into the pseudo-celebrity strata of the high school hierarchy? Would the Insta posts be captioned with hashtags of their ship name? Paxi? Daxton? Vishwall-Yoshumar?

Devi never got to check.

Unlocking her phone, she found two missed calls from her mother. Maybe two wouldn’t have seemed like a whole lot to someone else, but Devi knew that, in order for her mom to risk rudeness by stepping away from the company she was hosting at home not once but twice, she’d need to be pretty frantic. Two missed calls from Nalini Vishwakumar were the equivalent of six or seven from any other mother.

Skirting the edges of the gym as she headed away from DJ Humanoid—that nit-witted saboteur of slow dances—Devi was about to call her mom back when her screen changed to an incoming call from Kamala. She pressed her other hand to her ear and answered it.

“Hey. Do you know what’s going on with my mom? She called me twice and, honestly, she knows I’m at the d—”

“Devi, shut up. Sorry,” Kamala sighed. “But I may have kidnapped your history teacher and now I’m panicking a little.”

Devi stopped in her tracks.

“You did what? Why is the sound weird?”

As she was trying to identify the background noise coming from Kamala’s end, her eyes swept over the crowd of her classmates and landed on Fabiola’s. Her friend had been smiling, mid-sway as she held Eve from behind and chatted with Sasha, but it fell off her face like Devi off Dr. Jackson’s roof. Fab disentangled herself from her girlfriend and crossed the room to stand with Devi. She was frowning, silently asking for an explanation for Devi’s distress, but Devi didn’t really have one yet.

“We’re in his car on the highway,” her cousin was saying. “He was a little drunk, so I’m driving.”

Devi had imagined that Kamala was exaggerating, but no, this was really starting to sound like a kidnapping.

“You better be on hands-free right now,” she lectured. Then, because she wasn’t exactly a paragon of road safety herself—barely an hour ago, she’d walked right out in front of Paxton’s jeep—didn’t wait for confirmation. “What the hell happened? Context, Kamala!”

“Well, as soon as I snuck out of the house—”

“But why did you sneak out?!”

“Devi, I can’t talk about that right now!” Devi’s eyebrows shot up at the clear and abnormal hysteria in her cousin’s voice. “I ran out of the house,” Kamala continued, “totally directionless, and the first thing that popped into my head was Manish’s invitation for me to come to karaoke…”

“Ew, what the fuck, don’t call Mr. K that.”

What? Fab mouthed at her, but Devi shook her head.

“That is his name and what he asked me to call him. Anyway,” Kamala said, sounding strained, “I went to your school and met up with him and now I’m driving his car and I think I might have shut my sari in the car door, but I’m scared to pull over and check because if I stop the car, I’m going to have to confront things and I think I’d rather not do that yet.”

“Kamala,” Devi said in a heavy, careful voice. “You have to pull over. I totally get what you’re saying because it sounds like something I might do—minus the part where you kidnapped Mr. K—” Fabiola’s eyes went dramatically wide as she was adjusting her tiara. “—but this isn’t you. You don’t run away from your obligations and elope with my teachers!”

“Manish and I didn’t elope. It isn’t in any way romantic.”

“For sure though? It’s not?” Devi heard another voice in the car ask.

“Mr. K, back off! Kamala’s in the middle of a crisis!” she shouted. “And please be drunk enough to forget that I yelled at you.”

“Devi, what should I do?” Kamala asked, sounding desperate in a sad way now.

“Where are you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Ok, well, which direction are you heading in?”

“Um, either north or south.”

“You’re a disaster,” Devi muttered.

“What was that?”

“Uh… I said, don’t drive any faster. Try to read the next sign you pass so you can tell me where you are.”

“Alright,” Kamala said.

Devi tilted her phone away from her mouth so her cousin wouldn’t hear her frustrated sigh. She locked eyes with Fabiola.

“Kamala panicked at her engagement dinner and ran off with Mr. K. They’re either headed for Mexico or Canada, but I’ll know more in a minute.”

Fab blinked.

“Wow.”

“I know. It’s a lot. And this is me talking,” Devi emphasized.

“I don’t know if you would do anything this big. Mainly because you don’t have a driver’s license.”

“True.”

“Santa Barbara in twenty-six miles,” Kamala said in her ear.

“Damn, you made good time.”

“The traffic was quite manageable.”

“Try to calm down a little and get off the highway when you can. Don’t go past Santa Barbara. I’m coming to talk you down in person,” Devi said. “Oh, and don’t answer any of my mom’s calls; she’ll just stress you out.”

“That doesn’t seem very responsible. How about I send her a text when I stop to let her know I’m ok?”

Devi rolled her eyes.

“Suit yourself.”

“Thank you, Devi. But how will you get here?”

“Let me worry about that. Text me when you stop so I know exactly where I’m going.”

“I will.”

“’K. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Devi hung up and sighed massively, slumping into the wall and feeling a streamer crumple against her back. She and Fabiola stared at each other.

“What are you gonna do?” Fab asked.

“Be the hero my family needs, but not the one they deserve.”

“Are you misquoting Batman to justify doing something reckless?”

“First of all, rescuing Kamala isn’t reckless, and second of all, the movie isn’t called Batman, it’s The Dark Knight. Young-ish Christian Bale, hello.”

Fabiola pointed a finger at her own face.

“Young-ish out-of-touch lesbian, hello. At least I was close.”

Devi sighed again while Fab smiled sadly at her in obvious sympathy.

“It’s after ten at night. How am I gonna get to Santa Barbara?”

“Assuming you’re not going to ask your mom—”

“No.”

“Then you need a ride.”

“You need a ride? I’ll drive you.”

It was Paxton, walking up and tentatively taking Devi’s hand while darting uncertain glances at Fabiola. Devi felt her entire face light up.

“You don’t want to know where or why?” she teased.

His expression said those were insignificant details. Wow. Devi’d never had a fantasy where Paxton joined forces with her, bounty hunter-style, to track down a flighty Kamala, but this felt oddly romantic. Passionate even? They’d see where the night took them.

“You wouldn’t wanna leave the dance unless it was serious,” Paxton reasoned. “So, I’ll drive you. You wanna go now?”

“I guess we better. Lemme just grab my…”

“I’ll get it,” Fab said, raising a hand like the nerd she was as she volunteered.

She darted back through the dancers to grab Devi’s things and Devi watched their classmates part for their Cricket Queen. She was so proud of Fab. Also, she felt kinda bad for ditching such a momentous occasion. But Kamala needed her, and would totally do the same for her if she ever went off the deep end and kidnapped a dude while fleeing a proposal. Not that Devi could see herself fleeing a proposal (she glanced at Paxton as she thought this, then quickly away, thinking, Way too soon!). Carrying out a kidnapping? With a sufficiently convincing pro-and-con list, anything was possible.

“Basically, Kamala freaked and drove to Santa Barbara with a drunken Mr. K,” Devi said, because Paxton might not have asked to be informed, but she wanted him to know what he was getting himself into. Beyond that, she wanted to give him the chance to say, No way, Devi. I came here to look hot and dance up on you, nothing more.

“Oh shit,” was what he said.

“Damn right, oh shit. You still want to drive? This is going to take a while.”

She should probably have felt guilty about trying to subtly persuade him with her eyes, but not only was Paxton the least complicated option, he was also her first choice. If she maintained eye contact long enough, Devi figured it might trigger some kind of boyfriend override that made going for a long drive at night just as appealing as staying here and dancing with her butt pressed thrillingly to his groin when the teacher-chaperones weren’t looking.

“As long as we can hit up the bathrooms first. I was going to, but then I got talking to Trent, and then Marcus was doing a handstand…”

“Definitely,” Devi assured him. “Good call. Empty the tank. Oh, actually, that reminds me… how much gas do you have in your jeep? If we need to stop at a gas station, I’ll have to factor that in to the ETA I give Kamala.”

Paxton shook his head at her, smiling in what she liked to think was affectionate amusement.

“I filled it up on the way here. I needed a minute to, uh…” To her epic astonishment, he ducked his head self-consciously, cheeks pinking. “You know. Get my shit together. Up here.” He tapped his temple with his index finger. “I wanted to show up for you, like, completely. You know?”

Right as Devi was at dangerously high risk of sagging to the floor in blissful bonelessness, Fabiola sprang to her side, shoving the rest of her possessions at her.

“Ok, ok!” Devi said, harried.

She had to dump it all on the bathroom counter a minute later anyway, but after she’d done her pre-road trip pee, she came out and gave Fab a better thank-you.

“Your Highness,” Paxton told Fabiola with a nod.

Fab nodded back, smiling wryly.

“Prosecutor.”

“I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship,” Devi assessed, “but we gotta go! Say congrats to Eve for me again!”

“Sure. Drive safe!”

Devi and Paxton pushed through the doors together, striding quickly with his hand wrapped around hers. In the parking lot, she glanced sideways to see him digging his keychain out of his front pocket.

“Oh,” she said, “so I wasn’t just feeling that you were very happy to dance with me.”

Until they got into the jeep, it was too dark to see whether she’d gotten him to blush again, but she liked to think that she had. He was definitely smiling.

They got in and Devi carefully tucked her skirt around her legs, mind on Kamala’s cautionary tale. At least it was until Paxton leaned forward to shrug out of his jacket and she saw his shoulder muscles jump beneath his fitted button-down, his narrow black tie swinging forward. Dang. Fifty shades of Hall-Yoshida.

“Santa Barbara?” Paxton double-checked once he was settled behind the wheel, steering out of the student lot.

“Santa Barbara.”

Until they were on the highway and heading out of Los Angeles, Devi did her best to keep her worry about Kamala’s situation contained to the way she flapped her phone against her thigh. Usually, she was stressing about the problems right in front of her (when she wasn’t blatantly ignoring them, only to have that approach bite her in the ass later), but with whatever was going on with Kamala, she kinda had to look ahead.

Had she wanted Kamala to get engaged to Prashant that badly? Well, the best thing about Prashant was that you never knew when having additional hot relatives would be to your benefit. (Devi was already hoping that Mr. K would get over the more nerve-wracking elements of this night and just remember having fun with her stunning cousin… and that this could possibly translate into at least a month of generous grades, if she could somehow spin these shenanigans as an intentional blind date arranged by herself.) However, an engaged Kamala was wholly different from a married Kamala. She wouldn’t be around to watch nonsensical episodes of Riverdale, or be duped into hijinks, or listen to Devi when her mom was too tired, or bitch about her shitty lab-mates in exchange for sitting through Devi bitching about her complicated feelings on the subject of Aneesa dating her ex. She wouldn’t live with them anymore, and the family that had begun to miraculously fill out after her dad had died would be back down to three. And the other two members of it would be old (Sorry, Mom, she thought) and not at all prepared to champion her dating life or the cleavage-accentuating formal dress currently buoying it.

So, yeah, Devi was looking ahead—eyes glazed over as the yellow lights of cars slipped around them to prevent her vision from fully adjusting to the blue-black sky—and feeling more than a little nervous and scared of the Kamala-shaped hole she’d have in her life if her dazzling, dorky cousin left her house for one she might eventually fill with the most beautiful children the world had ever seen.

Thankfully, Paxton was there. It startled her when he took one hand off the wheel and felt across her lap to grab hers, loosely interlacing their fingers. Devi quit hitting her phone against her leg. She sent off their updated location to Kamala and then let her phone fall flat.

“Did she say where she was?” Her boyfriend’s voice was quiet in the car and she realized for the first time that her head had been too crammed with thoughts to put on any music.

“Carpinteria State Beach. Do you know the exit?”

“We’ll find it.”

“And if you want me to drive while you rest on the way back…”

Paxton laughed.

“No way. Safety first.”

“Says the guy driving one-handed,” Devi countered, not that she was eager to surrender the hand warming hers.

He turned his head just long enough to shoot her a look.

“Whoa, pal, eyes on the road!” she said. (She had a half-baked plan to call her boyfriend ‘pal’ a few times and thereby de-weaponize the word in a memory that still felt like a fading bruise, an almost-gone sore spot in who she and Paxton were before they were openly a them.)

“Sorry,” he said, staring out the windshield again. He grinned. “You look gorgeous.”

“Really?”

“So gorgeous.” Paxton’s voice was softer this time, the underlying laugh it had carried since she’d offered to drive his jeep drained out of it. It was nearly a sigh.

“Thanks. So do you.”

“You know, I feel fucking awful for hitting you with my car, but I still think I mighta felt worse if I’d walked in and seen you dancing with somebody else.”

Devi twisted their hands, touching the back of his to her thigh so she was sandwiching it between leg and palm for a moment, aiming for reassuring.

“I wanna say I would never be that flaky, but my previous offenses speak for themselves.”

“So does doing this with me.”

“Uh,” she droned, “to recap, you left a fun thing to do a huge favour for me. You’re talking about it like this is my act of redemption. I feel like if you examine it for a sec, you’ll see how I’m actually kind of a dick for accepting your help.”

“I want us to be together,” he said bluntly. “Here we are. Together.”

“It’s that simple?”

“I don’t see why it can’t be.”

“Huh. I think you’re really gonna be good for my tendency to overcomplicate a situation.”

Paxton laughed and unthreaded his fingers from Devi’s. But it wasn’t to release her for pointing out that this date was, in actual fact, the coordinated response to a family crisis; his fingertips moved lightly over her palm, momentarily trapped when her fingers flinched inward in reaction to how it tickled, then traced along the thin skin of her inner wrist. He wasn’t trying to pull away. He was lingering. Though his touch when he sunk his hand into her hair or drew her closer by her waist had always been fairly gentle, it had often had the faint aggression of hastiness to it, clutching her as they made out in her room, always listening for footsteps in the hallway. How Paxton touched her now was pure, exploratory tenderness. It made the hairs on the back of Devi’s neck stand up as a wave of shivers rushed up her spine and crested somewhere around the nape of her neck.

He must’ve felt that wave break, the foamy aftereffects in some tic of her arm or quickening of her pulse while his fingers skimmed gradually up the inside of her arm towards her elbow, because he chanced another quick glance at her.

“That feels good,” she explained.

Paxton looked forward, nodding slowly, and shifted in the driver’s seat.

“Good.”

She thought it must have felt good for him too, knowing he’d made her shiver.

—

The miles were flicking past for Paxton—another, another, another, as fast and steady as the dashed lines painted between the lanes, his arms cutting the water on the front crawl. He wanted Devi, beside him, to believe that he was paying attention to his driving, but he was honestly kinda zoned out. Like that time he’d swum to San Diego, he let his body go through the motions (in this case, twitching the wheel, putting on cruise control when traffic thinned so he didn’t have to focus on the pedals) while his mind floated freely.

Where it floated was to his girlfriend.

At ten years old, he’d been the last kid in his swim class to jump off the 10m board. It was optional—a treat after getting water up their noses turning somersaults below the surface and doing egg-beater legs in between—but all the other boys in the group had done it eagerly, shrieking on their way down to sloppy pencil dives. Paxton had climbed the stairs all the way to the top easily enough, even stepped onto the wide platform, bordered by metal railings and rough under his bare feet. He’d walked out to the end and frozen to find himself so high above the pool.

He hadn’t feared the water, he’d feared the air. Being so exposed on his own at the end of the diving board. Eventually, he’d retreated, then surprised the coach waiting down at the poolside by turning around and taking the jump at a run. Few memories felt as good as the sensation of giving himself back to gravity and letting it reunite him with the water. He’d just had to get past the exposure.

Same thing tonight, going to find Devi at the dance. Holding her hand in his had been him reaching the platform, but when they stood together, just inside the school’s doors, Paxton hadn’t known for sure whether he would take the leap or retreat. And not just for a running start this time, but in a way that turned his sixteen-year-old present self back into one of those nervous ten-year-olds who wimped out and had to take the coward’s way down—descending each step they’d climbed. He might not have run, and yet he hadn’t needed to back up and race into their relationship either. Momentum hadn’t carried them inside for everyone they knew to see them. It had been a calm approach, even if he’d been shaking on the inside when he saw Trent staring at them.

So maybe Paxton had learned something in the last six years, or maybe it was harder to feel exposed with somebody right next to you.

She really did look gorgeous, like he’d said, and because he didn’t want her to worry about his focus if she spotted him gazing at the side of her face while she texted her cousin, the glances he stole were of the knee region. Her dress’s overlay sparkled when the high lights of eighteen-wheelers passed them and the specific teal of the dress itself reminded him of a river he’d swum in once during an out-of-state family vacation. Natural and deep and fresh, and exasperating for his parents because he’d accidentally doggy-paddled himself all the way to a small waterfall and hadn’t heard them calling him back for dinner around the campfire. He felt all that about Devi, except for hoping for a different reaction from his parents when they met her.

Holy shit. He was going to have to introduce his girlfriend to his embarrassing hippy parents. But then, she’d already met Rebecca, so maybe they were set? A sister’s approval should count for a ton.

No, no, no, Devi would have to meet his parents. He was doing this. The two of them were doing this. Paxton exhaled determinedly through his nose and made himself concentrate on the remaining miles he needed to cover. His mind, anyway. His hand continued to stroke and search, covering his girlfriend’s hand with his until he had her fingers tucked away protectively under his own, and then caressing all the way up to the crook of her elbow so suddenly that she made a noise between a laugh and a yelp because he’d unintentionally tickled her. Man, she was cute.

The very end of their journey required the most concentration from Paxton; he finally took back his hand to have both on the wheel as he steered them off the highway and Devi’s got lonely or something, because it chased across to where he was sitting and landed on his thigh. His jaw clenched. He could feel the heat of her palm through his pantleg and congratulated himself on being a driving legend for driving smoothly to where they needed to park for beach access.

Devi had a pink sweater that she put on, but Paxton grabbed his jacket out of the back as well in case she needed it. It was almost midnight and a breeze rolled up off the water, rippling his tie and swishing Devi’s dress. He didn’t have to ask what they should do next—there was just one other car parked nearby and Devi’s cousin was already standing outside of it, raising a hand to wave sheepishly as they got out of his jeep.

“Here,” he said, holding out his jacket for his girlfriend to put her arms through the sleeves. “You guys talk. I’ll be down at the beach.”

Devi turned her back to him as she accepted the jacket, but she glanced over her shoulder with a look of concern.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. You’ll want privacy. I need to stretch my legs anyway.”

“Just don’t swim away, ok?” she requested. “I don’t think I can handle more than one rescue mission per night.”

Paxton could tell by her expression that it wasn’t entirely a joke. He grinned and gripped his lapels, now on Devi, reeling her in.

“I promise. You’d probably take the opportunity to try to drive the jeep home, and I don’t want to risk that.”

“Me committing grand theft auto or me getting hurt?”

“I bet they tested you for smartness,” he said, “but you think they have a test for being a smartass? You’d score high, Vishwakumar.”

“I know, I know, you don’t want me to get hurt.”

She was so infuriatingly flippant, rolling her big brown eyes at him.

“That’s right,” Paxton said plainly. There he was, up on the platform again.

Devi straightened his tie and let her hand rest flat on his chest. He remembered how overwhelmed she’d looked the first time he’d placed her palm there, right on his skin. Even now, it almost made him laugh.

“Ok,” she said, and he was surrendering himself to the sweet strength of gravity, propelled down to the beach while Devi stayed to talk to Kamala.

—

Devi had heard that there were tidepools here, and she was nervous about stepping into one and spearing some aquatic animal on her high heel. Well, she couldn’t magically improve her night vision, but she could take her shoes off and remove the possibility of impalement. They dangled from her fingers as she picked her way down to the beach.

Her boyfriend was sitting in the sand, staring out at the ocean. It just looked so romantic—with the stars the sky was too bright to see at home, and the waves, and the back of Paxton’s white shirt in the moonlight—that Devi decided to slip into the scene without saying anything at all.

A mistake. Paxton gasped and jumped. Apparently, he hadn’t heard her over the noise of the water.

“Sorry, sorry!” she said.

He sighed and smiled, getting to his feet.

“How’d it go?”

“I think it went well. She was feeling calm enough to drive, so she’s on her way home now. She’s gonna cover for me until we get back.”

“That’s good… but what about Mr. Kulkarni?”

“He was passed out in the passenger’s seat,” Devi stated. “I guess he’s kind of a lightweight? Kamala said she’s going to drive back to our school and leave him and his car in the parking lot. She’s planning to call my mom for a ride home. If it were me, I think I’d take the bus and try to sneak back into the house as quietly as possible, but Kamala still has a lot to learn about how to thoroughly dodge your problems.”

“And maybe about how to climb to the second floor of your house from the outside?” Paxton suggested with a meaningful smirk.

She did her best to return it, but the odds were that it didn’t look nearly as sexy on her. Then again, she had moonlight and midnight and well-displayed cleavage on her side.

“How’d you learn to do that so quietly anyway?” Devi asked, tossing her shoes to the sand and stepping forward to boldly wrap her arms around Paxton’s waist.

He’d had his hands in his pockets, but as soon as she’d begun to move towards him, he’d pulled them out. His arms encircled her, his hands on the back of his own black jacket. Although Devi wanted to offer him the jacket back—he felt slightly chilly through his shirt—she didn’t want the two of them to separate. Besides, body heat was a thing. This was practically what it was for. So Devi just pressed herself closer, breathing the scent of the ocean and Paxton’s fading cologne.

“Trent,” he said.

“Yeah, actually, that checks out.”

Were there boundaries between warming someone up while having a conversation and just hugging them? It wasn’t clear to Devi, but it felt good when they both went quiet for a while. She stood unevenly on the cold sand and listened to the thud of Paxton’s heart.

“You never said yes,” he said eventually, quietly.

“Yes to what?”

“I told you I came to the dance as your boyfriend and you never actually agreed to be my girlfriend. We kinda just started making out.”

Devi lifted her cheek from his chest so she could look at him. He didn’t appear disappointed, more like he was making an observation. Maybe he’d been reflecting, out here in the dark, while she and Kamala had talked.

“In my books, that’s an obvious yes,” she said, grinning. “What more do you need?”

She could see him trying not to smile.

“A little atmosphere would be nice,” Paxton said. “Maybe a long drive, or the beach. A full moon. Romance me, Vishwakumar.”

Devi vibrated with silent laughter. Or her heart was just beating really, really freaking hard.

“Sounds like you’ve got some pretty big expectations there.”

“And stars,” he added. “There should be a shitload of stars.”

With that, he took one hand off her back to point far above them. Devi tipped her head back, the light of the stars a friendly blur as she tried to pick one to settle on, just one. Paxton’s face coming forward to hover over hers blotted them out. Her boyfriend kissed her, light and ghosting and then firm and slow.

“On the other hand,” he said, pulling back a little, “I think we were onto something with the making out.”

Devi smiled and dug her toes into the sand to make herself taller, lips at the ready and realigned with his.

“We did set a precedent.”

[honeynutouran]

Me too (Kirishima x Reader)

Summary: You have had a crush on Kirishima since you started going to UA but you never said anything. Now third years you have a long weekend and you and your friends decide to go on a road trip.

Word count: 1.8k

Kirishima x GN reader

Y/N = your name

A/N: I haven't written in a hot minute so I wrote this up feeling the need to write. Sorry if its not the best I just wanted to post something for you guys. Also I suck at endings so I apologize.

Warnings: some cursing, one bed and fluff. (If there are any other warnings please reach out to me so I know)

UNEDITED

Being best friends with Bakugou Katsuki had its perks like he would help you study because “If you won’t leave me alone might as well keep up with me.” (His exact words) And you got to hang out with his other friends and his other best friend, Kirishima.

Bakugou has noticed that you have had a liking for Kirishima and would not drop it. “God, just say something to shitty hair already, I am sick of you staring at him all the time. I’m trying to teach you this new move listen dumbass.” He said to you when he caught you staring at Kirishima during training.

“I was admiring his form, shut up boom-boom boy.” You spat back, hitting him with your quirk.

“Yeah right, his form, and that didn’t even hurt.” He laughed brushing off where you had hit him.

“I wasn’t aiming to hurt you, dumbass.” You said this time aiming at his head as he tried to dodge your oncoming attack.

A few weeks had passed and you and the rest of your group were planning what you would all do on your next long weekend. Mina insisted you all go on a road trip stopping at her house one night since she had enough room for everyone as long as everyone was cool with sharing sleeping spaces. Everyone agreed it seemed like fun, well almost everyone.

“Why would I want to spend a long weekend with you extras?” Bakugou questioned.

“Bakugoubro, you’ll have a great time with us.” Kaminari smiled a toothy grin to Bakugou and Kirishima joined in.

“Yeah, it wouldn’t be very mainly to skip out on time with your friends," Kirishima added.

“Plus, if you don’t hang out with us, who else will put up with you?” Sero chimed in causing everyone but the boy in question to laugh.

“Fine, so you guys stop annoying me.” He gave in and you smiled to yourself thinking about a weekend with your friends and especially with Kirishima.

After getting permission from Aizawa to leave the dorms for the weekend and Sero borrowing his family’s minivan the plan all fell into place.

“We can take turns driving every couple of hours!” Mina exclaimed climbing into the passenger seat next to Sero in the driver’s seat. Behind them in the middle row were Bakugou and Kaminari. You and Kirishima were in the very back because Bakugou claimed he would get car sick in the back (a lie he came up with so you could sit next to Kirishima, unknown to you) and Kaminari claimed he would be best in the middle so he could charge everyone’s phones fairly.

“let me know if you need more room, it would be unmanly of me if I made you uncomfortable.” Kirishima smiled at you as you guys got situated in your seats.

“I’m okay, thanks, Kiri.” You smiled back at him.

After a few hours, you started to feel yourself get more and more tired despite it now being Mina's driving shift and she was not the most graceful driver.

“Hey, Y/N you look pretty tired,” Kirishima whispered.

“hmm.” You nodded in reply your eyelids becoming heavier. You tried to fight the tiredness, but you failed, finally letting the sleep take over.

Kirishima was frozen in place as your head plopped onto his shoulder, he knew that if he moved and woke you up it would be super unmanly. He would never let anyone wake up because of him, especially you. Mina looked in the mirror and smiled at the sight of you and whispered to the rest of the car to look. With that Kirishima blushed when the rest of the boys turned towards you two Kaminari giving him a thumbs up. Bakugou rolled his eyes at the sight but he was secretly happy for his best friends.

After some more time and everyone having driven, you had finally arrived at Mina’s house. “Welcome to my humble abode!” Mina smiled while gesturing toward the house. “It is a little cramped but, we have 2 spare rooms.” She explained.

“So two rooms and six of us?” Sero asked.

“Well three rooms including mine, so two per room. I’m assuming Y/N in my room then the rest of you can split up.” Mina suggested.

“No way am I sleeping in the same room as any of these loud idiots. I’ll be with you raccoon eyes.” Bakugou complained.

“I am not sure my parents will be okay with you in my room Bakugou.” Mina started.

“Parents love me-“ started but was cut off by your laughing.

“Bakugou my parents have known you since you were in diapers, and they cannot stand you sometimes.” You laughed even more.

“Shut up ditz, I don’t want to be stuck with you all night either. I’ll talk to raccoon eyes parents. Also, sparky you cannot room with Y/N last time you guys had a ‘sleepover’ you short-circuited and shocked Y/N and you both had to see recovery girl.” Bakugou reminded you before walking into the house to convince Mina’s parents of his sleeping arrangement.

“Hey, that was awesome, and we were fine.” Kaminari protested.

“It’s okay dude, we can room together, finish out the smash bros tournament we started in the van.” Sero offered, and Kaminari happily agreed.

“Looks like we are roomies.” Kirishima smiled at you pulling his stuff and yours out of the van.

“I can take that.” You said pointing to your bag but, Kirishima shook his head and insisted he got it. “Thanks, Kiri, you really don’t have to though.” You say feeling bad that he is taking your stuff.

“It’s okay Y/N you’re stuck rooming with me, it’s the least I can do.” He offered smiling, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

“I am not stuck with you, Kiri you would have been my first choice.” You smile back your face starting to heat up. Kiri looks at you a little too long before he realizes he is holding both your stuff and his own.

“I should go bring these to the room then.” He coughed out walking into the house.

“Well, that damn blasty brat convinced my parents that he would be the best to sleep in my room, so I guess I will show the rest of you where you will be staying.” Mina sighed not looking forward to her sleeping arrangements.

“Hey, I am a delight.” Bakugou yelled from somewhere in the house.

“Yeah, can’t wait. Anyways Kaminari and Sero you guys can take my brother's old room since you won’t mind the smell. Kirishima and Y/N you guys can take the guest bedroom.” Mina said pointing to each room. Kirishima nodded and took your stuff into the guest room upon entering he turned to you his face matching his hair.

“Uh Y/N… there is only one bed. I can ask Mina if she has a spare futon or something if you want me to, it would be super unmanly to make you share the bed with me an-“ you cut off his rambling.

“Kiri, it is okay, the bed is pretty big anyways there is plenty of room I wouldn’t want you to be stuck on the floor. I promise it is okay.” You say hoping he does not realize your face is on fire from the idea of sharing a bed with the boy you have been in love with since your first year at UA.

“Well, if you are sure it is okay.” He says a little unsure himself.

“It is.” You reassure him.

When it was time to go to bed Kirishima was panicking when he was changing into his pajamas, what if he did something to make you uncomfortable or what if he does something stupid, but what he didn’t know is you were having the same worries as you changed in the bathroom. After you finished changing you knocked on the door to see if it was okay to come in.

“I’m changed, you can come in,” Kiri said, turning towards the door when you came in. “What side of the bed do you want?”

“Oh, uh I don’t care either is fine.” You said walking in and closing the door behind you.

“Okay, I will just take the side closer to me then.” He said getting into bed, practically on the edge.

“Kiri, you can move over some more, you don’t have to worry. I would be worried if you fell off the bed.” You laughed at his attempts to be as respectful as possible.

“I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He explained once again.

“Kiri how many times must I tell you? You could never make me uncomfortable.” You said moving closer to him.

“Are you sure, because what if I like ended up cuddling you or something?” he blushed.

“I would be okay with that.” You admitted hiding your face under the sheets to avoid any further embarrassment. But your surprise Kirishima grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him.

“This is okay?” he asked.

“It is more than okay.” You replied molding yourself into him.

“I’m glad.” He smiled into the back of your head making himself comfortable against your touch. You two quickly fell asleep in each other’s embrace.

At the moment you two were way too happy to be with one another you forgot about the four other members of your group. You were still in Kirishima’s embrace by morning, only have gotten more entangled with each other.

“Shitty hair, ditz get up!” Bakugou yelled as he opened your door. You both bolted up and backed away from each other only to have Bakugou scoff and close the door. “Don’t be late for breakfast.” He said from behind the door.

“We should probably get down there,” Kirishima said scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah but first I gotta do something.” You said scooting closer to Kirishima.

“Do what?” he asked as you got closer.

“This.” You smirked, closing the distance between you two by crashing your lips into his, he quickly caught on and deepened the kiss letting the feelings across that you two have shared for each other for years. “Been wanting to do that for a long time.” You smiled when you broke apart.

“Me too.” He smiled back in his crooked smile. “So does this mean we are dating?”

“I hope so.” You said grabbing his hand and pulling him out of bed.

“Then it does.” He replied as you walked hand in hand to breakfast.

“I CALLED IT!” Mina yelled when you two walked into the kitchen.

“Sero owes me five bucks.” Kaminari said smirking at you two.

“Technically no, because we do not know when this happened.” Sero said to Kaminari making him frown.

“Who cares, can we eat,” Bakugou complained but you could have sworn when no one was looking he smiled to himself. “Told you, you should have told him.” He said to you under his breath.

“Did you know this whole time Katsuki?” you asked.

“Tch, know what?" He replied taking a bite of his food and refusing to keep talking on the matter. Kirishima grabbed your hand once again giving it a small squeeze and smiling at you when you turned your head towards him.

“I’m glad we went on this trip.” He smiled.

“Me too.” You smiled back Kiri.

[roanniom]

Requests just in time for Valentine’s Day! 💘

I’d like to request a Valentine’s Day to remember with Clyde, please. Thank you for doing requests again!

Sure thing, anon <3

Deserving 

Clyde Logan x Reader

Word Count: 3,388

Note: This serves as Part 2 for what I’m now calling Hello Darlin’, a Clyde and Darlin’!Reader series that began with First Conversation Jitters.

Read Part 1 Here

Warnings: NSFW, phone sex, masturbation (f/m), unprotected PIV sex, oral sex (m receiving)

You run your finger over the rim of your lemon water as you watch your bear of a man serve drinks with his sweet and steady charm. It’s the night before Valentine’s Day and he’d asked you to hang out at the Duck Tape during his bar tending shift, something you were more than happy to do. You’d camped out on the last stool on the right with a book, waiting for the moments between orders when Clyde would sail down to your corner of the bar and romance you.

It had been about a month or so since you had begun dating but everything still felt so new. When you’d walked away that first night after leaving your number on the napkin – a move you’d only ever seen in movies before – you had half worried that Clyde would be too nervous to call. And he was nervous, a fact he’d confided to you on the fourth date, the first night you two had spent together. As he held you in the dark, a finger tracing the line of your jaw, the slope of your neck, he’d muttered quiet words into your skin. They were vulnerable but hopeful. That was the thing that struck you most. The hope in his deep, drawling voice as he recounted the way that his heart had stopped when you’d answered the door earlier in your pretty dress. The way your laugh had soothed him instead of increasing his anxiety.

The timing of your courtship had not been ideal as the holidays had rolled in pretty rapidly after that, meaning you had a lot of prescheduled traveling to do. You’d bitten your tongue to refrain from inviting Clyde to Thanksgiving dinner, knowing he had a close family of his own and also knowing that the pressure of meeting yours might be too much to take so soon. Similarly, Christmas and New Years were a wash. You’d spent these days texting Clyde rapidly under the table, sending him sweet messages and well-wishes which he reciprocated to the best of his abilities – Clyde was not a great texter.

What he was good at, however, was talking on the phone. You waited all day every day of your holiday trips for the moment when you could steal away to your guest room in the evenings and wait for his call. It always came, and the deep, rumbling “Hello darlin’” was something that you realized quite quickly had emblazoned itself on the surface of your heart.

“Hiya, handsome,” you’d reply and he could always hear the smile in your voice. Sometimes you’d facetime, but often you would just stay up late with your phone pressed to your ear, whispering into the night. Because like that first night together when Clyde had been emboldened by the dark, Clyde was equally emboldened by the barrier of distance and technology. You weren’t sure if missing you had brought something out in him or just that with time he’d become more confident in your budding relationship. All you knew is that he was no longer holding back and you couldn’t be happier.

“I dreamt a’yer mouth last night, darlin’,” he’d told you on Christmas Eve after you already had caught up on what you both had done all day. His voice was quiet but sure as he said it. Not timid as you’d expect. Heat had immediately rushed to your core and you’d gotten comfortable on the bed, tucking the phone under your cheek on the pillow.

“And what exactly was my mouth doing in this dream of yours?”

“Lookin’ nice an’ pretty…” You were about to thank him but he surprised you by continuing. “…around my cock.”

“Clyde Logan, you dog!” you whisper back at him, trying to contain the excitement that bubbles up from the newness of being dirty on the phone with your sweet man.

“Lips all stretched ‘round me. Almost prettier than yer beautiful smile.”

“I wish I could have left you with memories of the real deal so you didn’t have to just dream about it,” you’d said wistfully, suddenly saddened by the distance between you and all you had yet to experience together.

“There’s plenty’a time fer that when ya get back,” he’d comforted you. “Don’t ya worry yer lil head about that.”

“Clyde?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Can I give you a new memory right now?”

He’d been surprised to see you’d switched over to facetime but had been quick to accept the call. You still think sometimes about the expression on his face when you’d popped on the screen topless and touching yourself already. It was the face of a man who’d been granted a glimpse at heaven but still wasn’t sure of his worthiness.

You intended to prove to him just how worthy he was.

“Get nice and comfy – I want to cum while watching you stroke that beautiful cock, handsome.”

Clyde’s smile had been a mile wide as he’d dropped down on his bed to oblige you.

“Yes ma’am.”

By the time New Years eve rolled around, the two of you had become experts of how to drive the other crazy, often with words alone.

~*~

In the present it’s close to midnight when you glance up from your book again to find Clyde grabbing your empty water glass and bringing it to the sink. He’d gotten caught up with a particularly needy group of out of towners who’d required more service than the average customer. You didn’t mind. It had given you a chance to watch him in action from afar, taking in his large frame as he moved behind the bar. The small smile as he listened – really listened – to his customers. Every once in a while he’d looked up to catch you staring, shooting you a wink from across the way. It always sent the butterflies in your stomach into a flurry when he did that, especially in the bar which had been the setting of his first fumbling advances toward you. His growing confidence was sexy and though you were feisty and more than capable of taking care of him, it burned you up inside even more to know he was able to take care of you, too.

“Grab yer stuff, darlin’, we’re headin’ out,” Clyde says coming out from around the bar. Your eyes shoot to your watch.

“But last call isn’t for a few more hours!” Even as you say it you notice Earl take his place behind the bar, sending a wave your way. Clyde helps you into your coat and pulls you to the door as he explains.

“Earl’s got me covered. No need for m’girl to hang ‘round a seedy bar all night.” You laugh because it’s a regular occurrence for you to spend your nights there with him, but you play along while he helps you into his truck.

“My Prince Charming,” you coo. Clyde gives you a little bow before jogging over to get into the driver’s seat. He starts up the truck and immediately turns on the heat, watching you with a smile as you appreciatively warm your hands against the vent. You catch him watching you and suddenly get suspicious, narrowing your eyes with humor. “What are you looking at, Charming?”

“The most beautiful girl in West Virginia,” he says without missing a beat before shaking his head. “No – in the world.”

You laugh. It’s the full-bodied sound that he loves with his whole being.

“Now that might just be a bit of an exaggeration, Mr. Logan, but I think I’ll take it anyway.” You lean over the truck’s center console expectantly. Clyde leans forward immediately to oblige you with a kiss. His lips are soft and taste of lemon, or maybe those are your own lips, but either way, it’s warm and tangy and everything you’ve been waiting for all these hours at the bar. You try to deepen the kiss and are surprised to feel him pull away, your head moving forward to chase his lips when he breaks the contact.

“We’ve got somewhere to be, darlin’. You’re gonna make us late,” he chides you playfully, throwing the truck into gear and pulling out onto the dark road.

“Where could we possibly need to be? It’s almost midnight,” you reply, surprised.

“Exactly,” he says with a wide smile.

~*~

Clyde won’t let you look out the window as he approaches your destination. You tease him because it is night time in rural West Virginia and it’s not like you would be able to see anything through the darkened windows anyway, but you humor him by keeping your eyes squeezed shut. When the truck cranks to a stop he jumps out and makes his way to help you out, pulling you down with his metal hand and covering your face with his massive, warm flesh one. His prosthetic presses into your waist to guide you forward and you grin, happy about the contact.

“Am I allowing you to lure me deep into the woods, Mr. Logan?” you sing out, hearing him chuckle behind you.

“I’d say yer right on the money, sweetheart.”

“Trying to have your way with me, are you? Is that what Prince Charming would do?”

“If he had a girl as pretty as m’girl he sure would, you bet yer ass.” His hand abandons your face for a second to drop light little slap to your backside and you let out a laughing squeal, sure to keep your eyes closed of your own accord.

“No peakin’,” he says, quickly putting his hand back over your eyes.

“I didn’t! I wouldn’t – I’m a good girl,” you say, know the implications of the statement. You hear Clyde swallow thickly behind you. Bingo.

“Ya sure are, darlin’.”

Just as you’re about to ask if you’ve almost arrived wherever he’s taking you, Clyde pulls you to a stop. You feel him lean down low to meet your height, his chin dipping to rest on your shoulder, both his facial hair and his breath tickling your ear and making you shiver.

“Open yer eyes.”

You do as he says and immediately let out a gasp. In front of you lies a picnic blanket set up with a comfy assortment of pillows. The space is illuminated by a mix and match assortment of camping lanterns which cast a soft glow about the scene. A basket of fruit and cheese sits open beside a bottle of champagne that sits chilling in an ice bucket with two delicate glasses.

“Clyde!” You turn and throw yourself at the satisfied looking man behind you, curling around his body and kissing every part of him you can reach. His watch beeps and he looks at it with a broad grin on his face.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.” He pulls you down to recline with him against the gathered pillows. You blink hard to hold back the tears that form unbidden.

“You planned all of this? For me?”

“Well I’ll be honest. Mellie and Jimmy helped,” he admits, running a hand up and down your back and pulling you into him to press a kiss to your forehead. “I had ‘em set all this up during my shift.”

It’s the most overtly romantic thing that anyone has ever done for you. You glance around and take in all of the details again, now with his warm skin under your fingers, his chest to your chest. It’s like something out of a romance novel, and you would know, you’ve sure read your fair share. Looking back down you see him watching you, registering each of your tiny reactions. He’s nervous, trying to make sure he’s pleased you. But he’s also hopeful. And that’s what breaks you.

Suddenly you launch yourself at him, pushing him down so that his back is pressed into the cushions and you are now straddling him. You pepper his face with kisses before arresting his mouth in a desperate lip lock. Though you are often the one who is chatty in the face of his pensive, thoughtful silence, you now find yourself at a loss for words. How do you tell him that you’re not used to being cared for in this way? How do you tell him that his sweetness sets your long-neglected soul on fire? That the string of meaningless relationships littering your past suddenly had meaning if only to lead you directly into his arms?

You don’t have the words to tell him these thoughts. So instead you tell him with your lips, your hands, your body. You run your hands down his t-shirt-clad chest, reveling in the thickness, the fullness of him, before drawing your hands down the length of his arms. You grab his wrists, sure to be gentle with his prosthetic, and urge them to settle above his head. It is only at this point that he resists, pulling out of a kiss.

“But darlin’…I need to touch you…” He’s breathless and you want to keep him like that forever. Keep his voice ragged and chest heaving so you can be his oxygen. Breathe life into him over and over.

“Let me do this, Clyde. My Valentine’s gift for my handsome man.” You grind down onto his hardening length at the end of your statement and his eyes roll back. When you feel him stop resisting the press of your hand on his wrists you know you’ve gotten him right where you want him.

You take your time. You kiss every inch of him over his clothes before crawling back on top to gyrate on his now straining member. His heavy breathing has made way for small, unabashed whimpers that are your new favorite sound. Clyde has been getting more dominant with you and you are excited to explore that new facet of your relationship. But for tonight you want to translate your emotions by riding him for all he’s worth.

After teasing him for long enough with your swiveling hips, you finally relent and pull his cock out of his dark jeans.

“Look at this beautiful cock. All hard and swollen just for me.” You double over to press a sweet kiss to his weeping tip.

“Only for m’girl,” Clyde nods feverishly below you. “Can ya…”

“What would you like, Clyde?” you ask, moving your hand steadily up and down his cock with languid strokes.

“Wanna be inside’a ya darlin’. Wanna feel if yer wet fer me.”

“Oh, baby…” you trail off and guide his cock to your pussy lips, your skirt long hiked up over your hips. You slide him up and down the seam of your opening, gathering your slick to coat him. He lets out a deep moan at the feeling. As you line him up you rake your nails over his soft belly with reverence. “You turn me on more than I’ve ever been turned on in my life.”

“Fuck,” comes Clyde’s muttered reply, his eyelids fluttering shut. You take this opportunity to lift up and then ease yourself down on him, letting his cock breach you with a slow ease. He’s large but you weren’t lying. You’re dripping for him, aching and desperate for the fullness that only he can provide you.

“Yer perfect. Feel so good,” Clyde forces out through clenched teeth.

You begin to ride him in earnest after you adjust more to his size, letting the muscles of your thighs propel you up and down to take him at an angle that causes you both to let out steady strings of moans. Clyde’s hips begin to work in tandem, thrusting up to meet you and making the slide of his cock through your pulsing walls that much more delicious. When a particularly good thrust topples you down to grip his shoulders, your breasts push down into his face, spilling from your bra cups and up through the wide neck of your shirt.

“Oh darlin’. Oh darlin’darlin’darlin’,” Clyde breathes out, straining his neck to push up into your cleavage. His flesh hand, which had up till now dutifully remained above his head, comes now to cup the side of your breast but you don’t have the presence of mind to reprimand him. You wouldn’t even if you did, his touch feels too good.

You gasp when he plants one foot flat on the ground for more leverage and spears up into you more aggressively than before. You shudder around him, cunt spasming on his cock with euphoric tension.

“Right there, baby?” he growls. He’s gazing up at you with a sweet intensity that you want to drink in forever, but the sensations in your cunt are overwhelming and it takes everything in you to simply nod. Your eyes screw up and your jaw drops, mouth forming a little “o” in response to another punishing thrust. Clyde chuckles below you. “Oh yeah. Right there.”

You cum shortly after but, as you had promised yourself silently the moment you had mounted him, you drag yourself down his body immediately, ignoring his groaning protests and gripping hand. When you take him in your mouth he’s already partially gone. He props himself up on his good elbow and alternates between gazing at you worshipfully and wincing in pleasure.

You suck on him, knowing how close he is and knowing he likes it when you get sloppy. He’d told you so over facetime on Christmas eve as you’d sucked on the fingers of one of your hands while riding and cumming on the other for him, your phone propped on the pillow. You gurgle as you take him deep into your throat, moaning around the fullness, the thickness of this perfect man below you. When you reach down to gently fondle his balls, Clyde lets out a deep-throated groan. His balls draw up from your hand and his hips pivot up, driving him deeper into you as he paints the inside of your throat with his cum. You welcome his orgasm, drinking him down until there’s no more, holding firmly at his hips as shudders wrack his body.

When you finally pull off to rock back on your heels you take in the sheer debauchery of this whole experience. Clyde lies sprawled out on the pillows below you, hand running through his sweaty hair, chest heaving, softening cock still poking out of his jeans. A giggle bubbles up from inside you and you let him pull you down where he silences you with a hard kiss as deep as the rumbling of his satisfied groan.

After a few seconds he rolls you so that you both are on your sides and he’s quick to bury his face in the space where your neck meets your shoulder. His customary place immediately following an act of intimacy. You’ve learned to recognize this and you don’t push him. Instead you welcome the tight clutch of this, the largest yet kindest man you’ve ever met, dragging your fingers up an down his cheek in a light caress. Moments pass in silence, save for your slowing breaths, until he speaks up, words muffled by the way he whispers them into your neck.

“Yer too good fer me, y’know.” He says it as a statement, not a question. There’s a weariness in his voice that doesn’t stem from how hard he’s just cum. Only now do you grip his jaw lightly, coaxing him from his hiding place against your flesh. You look him in the eyes, though he tries to avoid you. Instead you hold his gaze, finger swiping along his jaw. He sighs and adds. “I don’t deserve someone like you, darlin’.”

It’s your time to silence him with a kiss, but this time you don’t let actions do the talking. Clyde needed to hear you say the words that your clenching heart beats out, like some anatomical morse code. You grip his jaw tight and speak loud and clear.

“You deserve the world, Clyde.” His eyes melt, soft and full of adoration. You press a kiss to his forehead, one to each cheek, and then a chaste one on his lips before finishing. “And I’m going to give it to you.”

You may have spent the first three holidays of your relationship apart, but this Valentine’s Day you spent together in every way that mattered – mind, body, and soul.

~*~

Tagging some lovely friends (please let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged in the future!): @noocturnalchild @thedivinemissn @insufferablelust @historyandfandoms50 @lostinthedrive @thewilddingleberries @edencherries @mariesackler @safarigirlsp @direnightshade @sacklerscumrag @paper-n-ashes @clydesfavoritegirl @wayward-rose @hopeamarsu @thegreenmatt @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @maybe-your-left @aliveandlonely @han-not-solo @morby @emeraldsiren20 @maryforyou @aloneandsleepless @jynzandtonic @renmaulxo @millenialcatlady @leather-flannel-liquor @soggywhore @foxilayde @mylifeisactuallyamess

[topsytervy]

Wisdom Teeth ~ JJ Maybank

Blurb: JJ takes care of you after you get your wisdom teeth out. Not gonna lie, this post is kind of a mess

Word Count: 1,890

Warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, small mention of alcohol/drinking, I think that’s it.

I’m just going to say that this is based off of my wisdom teeth experience. I didn’t get gassed or put under, my moms friend suggested me holding alcohol in my mouth cause she did that when she got hers out and it worked for her (it worked for me enough to let me sleep like the dead, and my mom kept laughing at me.

I aged JJ and the reader to 19 cause why not.

I also lowkey started thinking of JJ taking care of his kids after their wisdom teeth get pulled and thats shows in the ending. 

anyway, small shoutout to @taylathornton who got me thinking about this after she said something about JJ or Rafe taking care of the reader when they get their wisdom teeth out.

~~~~

You walked out into the waiting room, gauze on either side of your mouth, your boyfriend standing by the counter as someone gave him the same rundown they gave you post-extraction. 

JJ smiled as he saw you, not that you could see with the mask over the bottom half of his face, and pulled you into his side.

"Just remember that if you still feel pain while taking the prescription he gave you today, call back and he'll prescribe you something stronger." the lady said. 

You nodded as you shoved the sheet filled with the instructions, prescriptions, and the extra gauze they gave you into JJ's hands. JJ said a quick thank you to the lady and then directed you to the door, every penny being covered by your insurance.

Thank God.

"How do you feel, princess?" He asked, intertwining your fingers together.

"You didn't tell me the extraction was such a violent process." You told him.

Well, attempted to tell him but the gauze in your mouth wasn't helping. The mask definitely added to muffling your voice.

JJ chuckled. "What?" He asked, unlocking the truck.

"You didn't tell me the extraction was such a violent process." You said slower, louder, and slightly more enunciated. 

JJ helped you into the truck. "Didn't want to scare you, Y/N/N."

"I can do it myself. I wasn’t gassed or anything. Just numbed." You swatted his hand away as he went to buckle you in.

He held up his hands. "Alright. I'm sorry." 

"Besides the lady said that I was surprisingly calm during the process." You informed him as you took off your mask.

"That's good." He closed the door and walked over to the driver’s side, climbing in as he also took off his mask. "Since you were so good during the process, how about you remind me in a week to take you to Dairy Queen and we'll get you some ice cream." He suggested, leaning over the center console and brushing some hair out of your face.

"Can I get chicken tenders too?" You asked, looking at your blonde boyfriend with the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

JJ let out a laugh as he started the truck and began to pull out of the parking lot. "Yeah. You can get chicken tenders too, princess."

You smiled, reaching into your mouth to readjust the blood-soaked gauze only to have JJ swat your hand away. "Don't."

"But I feel like I’m swallowing the gauze every time I go to swallow my saliva." You whined.

JJ sighed. "That’s because the roof of your mouth is swollen so it makes it difficult to swallow the saliva. Just leave the gauze where it is."

You shot JJ a look before bringing your hand to your mouth again. JJ reached over and grabbed your wrist his eyes never leaving the road.

"Y/N." He warned.

"JJ." You imitated.

"I said don't touch it." 

You took your wrist away from him and crossed your arms, looking out the window. 

"Keep that up and you won’t get dairy queen next week. I'll get myself dairy queen and you can keep eating soup and mashed potatoes." 

"You're so mean to me sometimes, J." You whispered.

"Only cause I love you and care about you, baby." He smiled, his hand going to your thigh and giving it a light squeeze. 

You uncrossed your arms and took his hand in yours. "You're so sweet."

JJ shook his head. "Flip-floppy today, huh. 3 seconds ago I was mean and now I'm sweet."

You shrugged. "You're a flip-floppy guy. You threw me off the dock once when it was chilly outside and then gave me clothes to change into not even three minutes later."

"That's called being a gentleman." He smirked. 

"No. It's called being an asshole with a heart." 

JJ snorted as he pulled into the pharmacy parking lot, pulling into a parking space before throwing the truck in park and grabbed his wallet along with your prescriptions.

"Stay here. I’ll be back." He kissed your temple before putting his mask back on, adjusting it so it was over his nose.

You shot him a thumbs-up as you pulled out your phone, taking the time to reply to Kie and Sarah who wanted to check in on you. They both offered to come over and take care of you but you told them you were fine cause you had JJ with you.

Kie immediately replied with a 'that's why we're offering.'

You let out a small giggle before sending them an 'I'm sure JJ can handle it' before locking your phone and pulling down the sun visor to look in the mirror. 

You opened your mouth and made a face as you looked at the inside of your mouth and saw the dried blood on your lips.

JJ opened the door and slid back into the driver’s seat, placing the bag with the two pill bottles in your lap. "You know, technically you’re supposed to keep pressure on the gauze for an hour so it clot and shit."

"You didn't tell me the inside of my mouth looks like it’s having its own little period. I smiled at you with my mouth looking like I took a baseball or something to the teeth." You scolded.

"Princess, and I mean this with all the love in my heart, you look like a hockey player who took a puck to the teeth." JJ laughed as he put the car in drive and made his way to the grocery store.

"JJ," you whined, not finding his comparison cute in the slightest.

"What? It's more accurate than the baseball comparison you said." 

"Stop laughing at me, J. It's not funny." 

"I'm sorry. You're just so whiney right now and it's adorable to me. Makes me want to bundle you up and hold you in my arms and protect you from all the evil in the world." JJ glanced at you. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked out the window. “Y/N, don’t be like this now.”

“You’re being mean to me.” 

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are. I’m over here bleeding, preparing for the numbness to wear off and the pain to set in and you’re laughing at me.”

JJ grabbed your hand and pressed it to his lips. “I’m sorry, baby. Can you accept me buying you soup as my way of asking for your forgiveness?”

He stopped at a stop sign and looked over at you, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.

You sighed. "I suppose."

He grinned as he squeezed your hand lightly. “See, you can’t stay mad at me forever, Y/N/N.”

You rolled your eyes before leaning your head against the headrest. “It’s because I need you to take care of me while I’m healing.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. As much as I love Kie and Sarah, I don’t think their cuddles can compare to yours.”

JJ nodded. “Fair enough. That’s all you need me for? Cuddles?” 

You shrugged. “We’ll see.”

****

Within two hours, you were tearing up as the numbness wore off, the pain coming in at full force. You laid on the couch in the living room of the apartment you and JJ shared, a blanket thrown over your body.

JJ walked over with a glass of water and the pills you were prescribed. “Alright, here’s your amoxicillin, and here’s your ibuprofen.” He handed you the pills as you sat up.

You popped the two pills into your mouth, taking the glass of water from your boyfriend’s hand before taking a sip and swallowing the pills. JJ took the glass from you and set it on the end table as you sniffed.

“You know what might help?” JJ asked, walking over to one of the cabinets and opening it. 

“What?”

“I know you’re not a big drinker, Y/N, but I remember Mr. Heyward telling me when I got my wisdom teeth out that, if you take vodka, whiskey, tequila, whatever, and kind of hold it in your mouth, tilting your head left and right, it’ll help with the pain. It almost renumbs it and because it’s alcohol, it also helps fight infections.” JJ explained, grabbing the bottle of vodka he had stashed away.

He grabbed a shot glass and filled it up before bringing it over to you. 

“JJ, baby, I don’t think I should be having alcohol after taking a 600 mg ibuprofen and a 500 mg amoxicillin. Besides, I’m pretty sure that’s what the amoxicillin is for anyway.” 

JJ sighed. “I know, princess, but I’m trying to help you out here. It hurts me to see you hurting.”

“And just two hours ago you were saying it was cute when I’m all whiney.” You joked.

“You are cute when you’re whiney and not in pain. Now you’re just in pain and I don’t like it.” 

You looked at JJ with a frown. “How about we just cuddle for the rest of the day? Maybe take a nap because I’m all tuckered out.” 

JJ smiled lightly, downing the shot of vodka before heading over to you and picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as your arms snaked around his neck, him holding you up by your thighs. He carried you into your bedroom, taking one of his hands and pulling back the blankets before gently setting you down and tucking you in. 

He climbed in on his side, gently pulling you into his side, putting a pillow on top of his upper arm so you weren’t resting on his arm, knowing that it wouldn’t help the pain at all.

“Comfortable, princess?” He asked.

You hummed in response, your arm draping across his stomach. 

He kissed the top of your head, brushing your hair away from your face. 

“I’m sorry in advance if I drool on you. I’m even more sorry if it’s bloody drool.” You muttered.

“It’s alright. You can drool on me whenever you want, bloody or not.”

You smiled. “And Kie and Sarah were worried about you taking care of me.”

JJ scoffed. “I always take care of you so Kie and Sarah can shove a sock in it.”

You giggled. “It’s okay, baby. I defended you and your ability to take care of me.”

“I would hope so. After all, I’m buying you Dairy Queen next week. I don’t buy Dairy Queen for anybody, you know.”

“I know.” You sighed.

It was quiet for a few minutes and you were almost asleep before JJ spoke again.

“You gotta eat your soup and mashed potatoes though or else you don’t get chicken tenders next week.”

You let out a laugh. “Oh my god, JJ. You sound like my dad when I had to go get shots.”

“That just means I’m prepared for when we have kids. The whole bribery part of parenting, in the bag.” JJ stated with a nod.

You nodded. “Alright, baby. I can’t wait to tell our kids how you knew you were ready to be a father because you told me a week after my wisdom teeth were removed, you were going to buy me chicken tenders and ice cream.”

JJ smiled. “And I can’t wait to be saying the same thing to them when they get their wisdom teeth out.”

~~~~~~

[kiwikyuu]

━━━━ 𝐡𝐪 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐢 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭

word count 1.08k

genre headcanon ; fluff

warning(s) mentions of alcohol & cigarette & pot use, fist fights, characters are aged up, cursing, not edited

a/n i don't wanna be showing favorites but this one is going to be longer than the others.. the third years <3 just have a special place in my heart. also i'm pretty sure oikawa's right picture is doyoung from nct lmaooo oops

inarizaki version / nekoma version

aoba johsai version / o. tooru, i. hajime, m. issei, h. takahiro

oikawa is such a menace like this man will say let's go on a study date and then only take pictures for his social media and pull you away to ikea or somewhere

but imagine boyfriend oikawa driving to ikea with one hand on the wheel one hand on your thigh and glancing over to you every so often because he can't help but think he's so lucky to have you as an s/o

at ikea he'll point out all the furniture he'd get if he could for his your future house and if they have volleyballs in the store they probably do right? you'll almost get kicked out because oikawa started a game with the youger kids in the store but he's a smooth talker and he apologizes and promises not to do it again liar

and then after your date you drag him back to the cafe to actually study. a lot of people think he's not the brightest but oikawa is a perfectionist and he's actually almost close to the top of his class iwaizumi is first

he'll help you with your studies and tease you the way he does casually poking at the fact that you're really asking him for help when you don't usually. but when it comes down to it he'll break down all the problems for you and be really soft tutoring you to help you

and at the end of the day when he's driving you home he'll give you a kiss goodnight before you leave him and wait till you're inside your house before driving off because that's the type of boyfriend oikawa is and expect a call when he gets home lol

iwaizumi is an absolute babe and let's be real.. everyone on campus either wants him or wants to be him but ding! ding! he's very much not single and he's very much upfront about the fact that he's only got eyes for you his wonderful s/o

boyfriend iwaizumi will be the type of boyfriend to take you on spontaneous day trips but not really spontaneous because he'll make sure your schedule is clear and take you sight seeing and on random fun adventures like if y'all are near the water he'll take you on a boat ride or if y'all are near fields he'll take you on a nice stroll idk

but anyway if you guys can drive there iwaizumi like oikawa will be the type of driver to have one hand on the wheel one hand on your thigh and he'll definitely be the guy to do that thing where he backs up the car with an arm behind your chair while he's looking back do y'all know what i mean or am i making no sense lmaoo

boyfriend iwaizumi looks like a monster of a man because he's got huge biceps and he's tall and intimidating but when you're next to him whether it be on a day trip with just the two of you or in public on campus or anywhere really he immediately turns to mush for you like a dog wagging his tail

and when iwaizumi drinks because i feel like he does he turns into such a sap and will try to woo you all over again because he refuses to believe that you're really his all the boys have quite a few videos of it if we're being honest

just boyfriend iwa being the best

this mf.. i swear mattsun is such a clown like i feel like he's the type of boyfriend to joke around a lot and be super playful moreso than oikawa

like if you ask him to come to a cafe with you because you need to study for finals he'll message you no but then half an hour later he'll ask you why you're taking so long lmao and he'd already have gotten a table for you two and even ordered you something

or if you're going somewhere together he'll definitely hold all your things but tell you that if a seat opens up he's going to take it which you know is a fat lie he just likes to joke around. but let's say a seat opens up as the train or subway comes to a stop and you kinda almost fall mattsun is already pulling you into his side by the waist before guiding you to the seat calling you clumsy

boyfriend mattsun is a smoker and shares a cig with hanamaki on their way to class and when he meets you afterward he smells like cigarettes and cologne with a hint of mint from the gum he chews to hide the smell smh

mattsun is an engineering major with a side hustle of fixing up cars so when he picks you up he's picking you up in a car that he's tweaked himself and lemme say that it's beautiful

he loves midnight drives or early early morning drives when it's quiet and you two will talk about anything and nothing together and maybe make out in his back seat lmfaoo

makki is definitely not subtle about his feelings and he's the type of boyfriend that remains cool and charismatic

like he'll buy you funky little matching hats and wear it in public shamelessly with you if you want. he won't care that everyone's looking at him because you're happy and that's all that matters

or he'll show up to your class one day with a bouquet of flowers. there's no special reason. he just passed a shop and thought of you and he won't be bothered by all the whispers that surround him when he walks over to you to hand them to you

boyfriend makki loves hand holding but kills for back hugs. say you're waiting for the train? back hug. talking to your friends outside school? back hug. playing a game on your pc? back hug. he just likes holding you in his arms

makki is definitely a stoner so when he smokes he always ends up in your room with the munchies and two bags of mcdonalds because he wasn't sure if you wanted anything or not so he just bought enough for two

and after y'all are done eating and washing up you'll put on a movie and makki will let you use him as a pillow and he'll probably whisper random things into your ears that are strangely romantic

"if you were a worm i'd still love you"

[just-jordie-things]

All I Need My Baby (And A Cigarette) - Stanley Barber

word count: 12,795 warnings: swearing summary: (y/n) (y/l/n) and Stanley Barber may be neighbors, but they haven’t been friends since they were children.  Stan plans on changing that, even if (y/n) is a bit more of a popular girl now.  He’s pretty convincing though... and charming... + based (very loosely) on this song ___

[ i never read ya ]

“Hey, sunshine!”

When (y/n) answered the phone, she wasn’t expecting such a delighted voice on the other end.  She honestly thought that it was going to be Dina, calling her to invite her over, maybe even to go dress shopping, since homecoming was just a week away.  

But of course it wasn’t Dina.  Dina was busy.  With Brad.

“Stanley?” She asked, confused to have heard his voice.  “How’d you even get my number?”

Stanley Barber was… well, he was a strange guy.  They lived on the same street, with Sydney Novak’s house just a block away from his.  Because of their proximity, she’d known him her whole life.  

When they were kids, they’d walk to school together.  She supposed their parents didn’t want them walking by themselves at such a young age.  When they were in middle school, they had a few classes together, and more often than not, would partner up.  Since they were both outcasts, it was easier than trying to find someone who wanted to work with them.  She found a certain comfort in having Stan around and always willing to work with her.

And now, in high school, he made it a point to say hi to her on her walk home from school.  Sometimes he’d even walk with her, usually telling her about his weird day, sometimes giving her a record to listen to.  But she wasn’t the same person that she was when they were kids.  She had grown up a lot, matured.  And with that came a natural beauty that the people at school flocked to.  With beauty comes popularity, and so he didn’t see her around as much.  

They were friends, kind of.  They were friendly acquaintances.

But not close enough for him to be calling her.

“Syd gave it to me,” He answered.  “You want to come over?”

“What?” She asks, like she didn’t understand the question.

She finally sits up from bed, since she’d been laying there since she got home from school.  Pulling the cord on her phone with her, she looked over at the clock.  8:15.

“It’s kinda late” She says, like that’s the only reason stopping her from going over to his house right now.  They got along, but they didn’t hang out together, and she’s certainly never been over to his house.

“So?” He replied.  “It’s the perfect time of night for a drive”

“A drive?” She asks.  “You don’t have any other friends to ask?”

“If I wanted to ask someone else, why would I ask you?”

“That doesn’t make sense” (y/n) sighed, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes.

“You want to hang out or not?” He asked.

She mulled it over for a minute, weighing her options.  It was either stay in bed the rest of the night, or go hang out with an almost total stranger.

“Alright,” She sighed, kicking off her blankets.  “I’ll be there in a few minutes”

“Great!” He replied, before hanging up the phone.

As she got up to go, she wondered if she should change, since she’d worn these clothes all day and then came home and slept in them.  But it was just Stanley, who cared if Stanley thought she looked like a hobo in her messed up sweater and jeans.

So with that, she pulled on her shoes and headed out the door.

It was pretty chilly for september, so she walked quickly to Stan’s house.  And when she arrived, he opened the door before she could even knock.

He looked neat and disheveled all at once.  In a tee shirt and bright yellow cardigan, paired with trousers, and… bare feet.  She couldn’t decide what was more odd, his lack of shoes or the sunglasses on his head even though the sun had already set.  She gave him a confused once over, but he spoke before she could.

“Ready?” He asked, an excited grin on his face.

“I guess” (y/n) shrugged back.

He nods, walking outside and shutting the door behind him.

“I know a really great place to smoke, if you want.  If you smoke, I don’t wanna like, peer pressure you, or anything” He suggested as they walked up to his car.

“You’re not going to wear shoes?” (y/n) asked, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Nah, who needs em” Was all he said, before opening the passenger door for her.

(y/n) thanks him quietly as she gets in.

His car smells like pot, and somehow, fruit.  Something citrusy that she can’t quite place.  It’s a strange combination, but something about it was all the more perfect for his car.

Stan gets into the driver's seat, and starts the car with an eager bounce.  (y/n) can’t help but chuckle a bit.

Stanley Barber was one odd duck.

“So have you thought about uh, you know, homecoming?” He asked, drumming his thumbs on the wheel.

“Homecoming?” (y/n) repeats softly.  “No, why?”

“Just wondering,” Stan replied with a shake of his head.  “You know, cause some people are already asking dates, and stuff”

“It’s kinda far out” She mumbles, eyes casting out the window.

“Well, you know, a week,” Stan responds.  “But yeah, it’s so weird that it’s our last one”

“I’m pretty relieved.  Dances aren’t really my thing”

“I guess its your last chance to make it your thing,” He says.  “If you wanted to”

(y/n) looks over to him curiously, and for a second she thinks that he’s asking her to homecoming, before she realizes that it’s a dumb thing to assume, and she shakes her head.

“I don’t want to” She answers.

She wonders if this is enjoyable for him.  Sitting in near silence with her, and only getting short answers.  Sure, she knows she could be more talkative, if she wants to.  But she didn’t understand why he wanted to hang out with her of all people.

Finally he parks the car, and she looks up to see that they’re parked under an overpass, in front of a large graffitied painting reading Brownsville on the cement wall.  Her brows furrow as she gets out of the car and follows him up to the wall.

“Why here?” She asks, and Stan hoists himself up on the ledge.

She mimics him, sitting next to him while he fumbles through his pockets.  She just watches him, a curious glint in her eye.  But it felt the longer she spent trying to figure him out, the harder it was.  Like his personality was changing every five minutes.

He pulled out a case, and popped it open to reveal to her a couple of blunts, and a lighter.

“You smoke often?”

“No,” She hums in response, taking the blunt and lighter when he offers them to her.  “Not in a year, actually.  I kinda… uh… stopped”

She puts the blunt to her mouth and flicks the lighter, before taking in a deep breath, inhaling for as long as she could hold it.  She handed them back to him, before letting out a slow exhale, and watching the smoke dissipate into the air.

“And here I am pressuring you into smoking again?” He asked, taking a quick puff.

“It’s not like that,” She said quietly, shaking her head.  “I just um… never really felt like it anymore,” She continued.  “And I think that once I realized I was on my own I didn’t want to risk um… feeling worse, you know? Like I didn’t want those feelings amplified,”

Stanley nods, but he doesn’t comment.  That was the most she’d said to him all day, and it felt… heavy.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“We should hang out more often,” He says before she could regret opening up.  “I don’t know why we haven’t before”

She looks over at him, taking the blunt when he offers it to her.  Her brows are knitted together, but there’s an awkward smile on her face, like she was trying to conceal it but it slipped out anyways.  

“Because we’re strangers” She answered, looking down at the half-smoked blunt in her fingers, before taking another hit.

“We’re neighbors” Stanley said, like it was supposed to change everything, and make them friends.

“Not really,” (y/n) shrugged.  “I’m a couple houses down from you”

“So?” He replied.  “We grew up together, we walked to school together.  In the movies we’d be, like, best friends by now.  Probably even dating”

Her head jerks around, a wild and confused look in her eye as she tried and failed to hold back a laugh.

“Dating?” She repeats.  “You and I? Did you not hear the part about us being strangers?”

Stan chuckles, and takes the last hit of the blunt.

“I’m just saying” He says nonchalantly.

“You could be an axe murderer” Her voice is softer than it should be, and she’s suddenly too shy to look at him.

They sit in silence for a moment, both gazing out at the dark town, trying to find the stars in the cloudy sky.  It feels like it should be a beautiful night, but it isn’t.  It’s cold and foggy.  It’s ugly.

“But you came out with me anyways” Stanley speaks up, far too delayed.

(y/n) looks at him again, a smile tugging on her lips, betraying her.  She doesn’t look away this time, she just keeps smiling at him.

They walk around town for a while, even though everywhere is closed, and after smoking another blunt they’re a bit too faded to do anything anyways.  So they just talk, and enjoy the silence when it would settle between them.

“What’s your favorite band?” Stan asks, while (y/n) is balancing herself on the curb of the sidewalk.

Her arms are outstretched as she takes each step, wobbling a bit more than she would have had she been sober.

“I don’t know, it changes a lot,” She answers.  “Maybe Tame Impala.  Or Cage The Elephant”

“Good answers,” Stan says, while he’s skipping between walking on the curb with you and walking on the street.  “Now you get to ask a question”

“Alright…” She muses, letting her mind wander to a good thing to ask him.

She knows she could string together any words and he would be eager to answer, but she racks her brain for a good idea anyways.

“Will you move when you’re older?” She asks him.

He’s walking in the street now, but he’s so tall that when she turns to look at him she’s barely looking down.

“Like, out of Brownsville?” He asks, and she nods.  “Well ideally, of course.  Wouldn’t you?”

She nods, but something about the way her eyes softened lead him to believe that she wasn’t so sure.

“There’s not a whole lot of opportunity here, don’t you think?” Stan says, “I mean, what are your options for a career? Working at the school? Or waitressing? That’s not a life for me.  I’d be a terrible waitress”

“You’d be a waiter, Stan” She says, but he dismisses the idea.

“No way, I’m moving outta here first chance I get”

“Do you know where you’re going to college?” She murmurs, but he ignores that too.

“It’s my turn for a question, don’t break the rules,” He chided playfully.  “What’re you doing tomorrow?”

“That’s your question?” She giggles, still the tiniest bit high.

“You have to answer it, it’s the rules”

“Yeah yeah,” She shakes her head.  “Maybe going to Ricky Berry’s party, I don’t know”

“Really? You?”

“Doesn’t that count as a question-?”

“You just don’t seem like the party type,” He says before she can scold him for breaking his own rules.  “Since you have a thing against fun”

“What? I don’t have anything against fun-” Again, he doesn’t let her finish.

“You do too,” He argues.  “You hate homecoming, you didn’t want to hang out tonight, you’re a funsucker”

(y/n) laughs, and shoves at his shoulder, effectively losing her own balance and stumbling to walk in the street by his side now.  Neither of them say anything as their arms swing against each other from their close proximity.

“I am not,” She mutters.  “I just don’t have… friends”

“What? Yes you do”

“No I don’t” She replies with a bitter laugh.

“You have more friends than me,” Stan says.  “Aren’t you buddies with Dina? You’re a popular girl you know”

“Me?” She laughs again, shaking her head wildly.  “No, no I’m not,”

She wishes she’d brought a jacket, had she known they’d be walking around town in this weather then she would have.  But she settles for wrapping her arms around herself to preserve warmth.

“And I’m not really Dina’s friend anymore” She adds in a softer voice.

“Oh” Is all Stan can think to say.  He doesn’t know how to ask her what happened without making it awkward, so he doesn’t.

It’s quiet again as they head back to his car, but not totally uncomfortable.  She’s getting used to being in silence with Stan, and finds that it’s nicer than being in silence at home alone.

“Are your parents gonna be upset that you were kept out late by a possible axe murderer?” He asks when they get in the car.

“No,” She says with a small giggle.  “They’re out of town on a joint business trip”

“Oh, cool” He says, nodding his head.

“They have been for the past week,” (y/n) adds.

Oh.

“Sometimes I wonder if sometime they’ll go and just… not come back”

Oh.

“You could move in with me” Stan suggests, without really thinking.  He wants to blame it on the pot, but his high wore off twenty minutes ago.

She turns to him, that same confused look on her face that she kept giving him earlier.  The words linger in her mind for a minute before she lets out a soft laugh, and shakes her head.

“You’re so strange, Stanley Barber” She muses

[ you said i’m different, i’m difficult ]

Ricky Berry was not a friend of (y/n’s), although more often than not he did seem to think he was.  Like right now, approaching her in the living room, offering her a bottle of beer.

“No, thanks” She says, pushing the bottle away.

“Since when do you not drink?” He asks with a smirk, the kind that makes her want to slap him until it goes away.

Her brows furrow and she clenches her jaw.

“I’m not in the mood” She forces out between her teeth.

Ricky puts his hands up as though he’s surrendering, and this only deepens her newfound hatred for the boy.  She didn’t hate him before, she just didn’t like him and his rich-kid bullshit personna.  And she didn’t like the way he treated her like there was something between them, like they’d ever been friends.  They were hardly acquaintances.  She couldn’t tell you a damn thing about him besides that he was on the football team, and she only knew that because of the way he paraded around town in his dumb letterman’s jacket.

He chuckles, drawing her back to reality from the dark thoughts currently swimming in her mind.  Like what it would feel like to break her hand punching him in the face.

“Are you enjoying the party?” He asked her, and before she could even answer he spoke up again.  “Did you come alone?”

Her eyes narrow on his figure for a moment, before she regained control of her disgust.

“I was having a fine time,” She lies.  “And no, I didn’t” She lies again.

“You brought a date?” Ricky asks with a chuckle, like he doesn’t believe her.

And he doesn’t believe her, because as beautiful as the enigma that was (y/n) (y/l/n) was, she was unattainable, and he knew that better than anyone else.  She was an anti-social rose.  Pretty, but didn’t give a fuck about anything or anyone.

“Maybe,” She answers bluntly, quirking a brow at him.  “What’s it to you?”

Ricky mistakes her irritation for flirtation, and makes the poor choice of grinning down at her, and taking a bold step forward.  Without hesitation, she steps back, putting the foot of space between them again.

“Well, had I known you were finally looking for someone to bring you to these sorts of events, you know, as sort of a… boyfriend figure… I would have applied for the position”

She knows he’s trying to be suave, but she can’t help the bubbling laughter that almost erupts from her chest.  She’s lucky to have contained it shaking her head and looking away from him.  She can’t believe he’s this much of a tool, it’s almost too amusing.

As she looks away from him, her eyes catch another figure, and her mood lifts instantly.

Stanley’s standing in the middle of the living room, wearing the cutest baby blue suit she’s ever seen.  He looks very out of place, and a bit lost, but when his eyes meet hers, he seems to relax, and he gives her a welcoming grin.

“- and anyways, I think I’d be an excellent choice for you, (y/n).  I mean, let's be real, you’re royalty, I’m royalty, and we’re a perfect match.  I could treat you like a princess, you know-”

“Gotta go,” (y/n) says, holding a hand up to Ricky’s face to silence him, already turning to head away from him.  “Oh, also, your application has been rejected, so sorry,” She tells him with a giggle that she just couldn’t hold back.  “You just weren’t a good fit”

She’s still laughing as she wanders off towards Stan, who seems puzzled by her laughter, but he’s just glad she approached him.

“Wow…” She says, looking him up and down.  “Look at you”

“It’s nice, right?” He asks, smoothing his hands over the lapels of the jacket.

(y/n) nods, raising her eyebrows and grinning as she looks back up at him.

“So, what’re you doing here?” She asks him.  “I didn’t peg you as the party type either”

“I’m not any type,” Stan shrugs.  “I just felt like getting out of the house, and here is better than sitting at the overpass by myself”

“You want to snag a couple drinks and get out of here?” She asks, and the shock on his face makes her laugh, and quickly shake her head.  “Not like that, dork,” She says, “Let’s just take this party somewhere else, it’s not my scene”

“It-it’s not my scene either” He agrees, and she grins.

He likes this side of (y/n).  The bubbly side, where she smiles and laughs and isn’t so afraid to talk to him like she had been before.

As he followed behind her to the kitchen so they could steal a couple bottles of anything they could get their hands on, he couldn’t help but look her over.

She’d swapped out her sweater and mom-jeans for a black sheer long sleeved button down, and much skinnier jeans.  He had to force himself to look away before studying the shirt enough to see her skin beneath it.  Not that it was hard, it was a very light and see-through material.

He wondered for a minute if she wore it to be looked at, and then his mind wandered off to the image of her and Ricky talking a few minutes ago, and how close they were standing.

“Are you and Ricky like… a thing?” He asked.

Her head popped up from where she’d gone digging through the fridge.

“What?” She asks, exasperated from a question that shouldn’t have been difficult.  “No, gross” Her brows furrow and her lips curl into a slight snarl, and Stan feels relief spread through him that she looks so disgusted by the idea.

She hands him two bottles, and snags two of her own, and then points towards the back door so they could sneak out easily.

“Do you know any other good hiding places?” She asks, pushing her hair back behind her ears when the breeze whips it in her face.

“I know lots of great hiding places,” He responds.  “But I think I have the best idea for a new one”

“Great” (y/n) grins, and they get into his car to drive off to another mystery place.

It’s chilly, but she rolls the window down, and leans her head out of it to enjoy the night.  The clouds from last night had disappeared, revealing the stars, and she grins as her eyes count them.  It’s useless, but it passes the time, because Stan’s been driving for a while.

He keeps casting glances over at her, letting his mind wander to all the beautiful things about her he’s never really noticed before.  Sure, she was gorgeous, that was common knowledge.  You only needed eyes to know that.

He hadn’t gotten to see her in the moonlight last night, and he sure is glad that he can now.  Her eyelashes cast shadows over her cheekbones, which, in this lighting, are even more defined and frame her whole face like she’s the subject of a painting.

He thinks she should be the subject of a painting.

Her hair flies around from the wind, but she’s given up on holding it back, and just let’s it do whatever it wants.  Every few minutes her eyes would close contently, and he wondered what thoughts she was getting lost in, but he didn’t ask, he lets them be private.

When he finally stops the car, (y/n) looks out to see where he’s taken them.

“The water tower?” She asks, helping him with the beer.

“Yep” He replies with a proud grin, and heads up to it.

As she watches him go, her eyes catch to where he’s heading to, and she jogs to catch up to his side.

“We’re going up there?” She asks when he steps onto the first rung of the ladder.

Her eyes wander up to it’s height, and she feels dizzy just looking at the ledge that the ladder leads to.

“You’re not scared of heights, are you?” He asks her, putting a beer bottle in each of his pockets.

“No,” She answers him quickly.  “I just… don’t want to climb a hundred feet on a fifty year old ladder” She adds in a weaker voice.

“Do you want to go first?” He asks, stepping off the ladder and gesturing for her to go ahead.

“What, am I supposed to believe you’ll catch me if I fall?” She asks in a bored tone.

“At least I could break your fall” Stan shrugs, and she laughs nervously.

With one more glance up to the top, she lets out a shaky sigh, and nods her head.

“Okay” She mumbles.

She tucks the bottle of beer in her jeans, neck first.  They hit her stomach awkwardly with every bar she climbs, but there’s no way she’s getting up there and not drinking.

“You’re doing great!” Stan calls from a few feet below her.

“Please don’t encourage me” She says, and keeps up the motion of climbing as best she can.

She doesn’t want to look down, or outwards.  She doesn’t want to look up either, but that’s better than seeing how far from the ground she is.  It takes quite a while to get to the top, and when she grabs the last bar, she lets out a cheer, and quickly scrambles onto the ledge.

There’s about three feet of metal landing that sticks out from the water tower itself, and much to her relief it’s surrounded by a barred gate.  She’s quick to sit down, taking the bottles out of her jeans and placing them beside her, while he wraps her arms over the bar.

Stan sits beside her not long after, cracking open one of his drinks and smiling widely at her.  She opens one of her beers as well, and clinks her bottle against his while he’s drinking from it.

“I can’t believe you got me to come up here” She sighs, swinging her legs around comfortably.

“It didn’t take that much convincing,” He told her.  “Give yourself some credit, you came up here on your own choice”

He smiles at her like he’s proud of her, and makes a blush dust along her cheeks.

“You’re right, that was really brave of me,” She said, only partially teasing.  “But I wouldn’t have come up here if it wasn’t for the company,” She tells him sweetly.  “So thanks, Stan”

She touches her bottle to his again as though to cheers to him.

“Right back at you” He says, trying to be slick, but he’s getting nervous and his voice is softer than he intends it to be.

It’s quiet, and (y/n) leans forward to rest her chin on top of her arms, still holding onto the bar.  She’s enjoying the view, the peace and quiet.  This is the perfect hiding spot.

“The height doesn’t seem so bad once you’re up here,” She murmurs, and Stan hums in agreement.  “I feel like it works that way with everything.  Things aren’t so bad once you get through them, you know?” She’s thinking aloud, not looking for a response, or even an acknowledgement of her letting her thoughts run free.  “I hope it’s like that with this Dina thing.  Like once I move on and tell myself I’m enough for me, it’ll be easier,”

She looks over to Stan now, but his eyes are trained upwards, scanning over the stars.  She smiles at him, even though he doesn’t see.

“And I think it’ll be easier now that I’ve met you,”

He looks at her once she says that, his cheeks pink, and his brown eyes rounded with curiosity and hope at her gentle words.  They remind her of a doe’s eyes, if only for a moment.

“I’m glad I met you,” She hums.  “Like, really met you.  I’m sorry I didn’t get to know you sooner”

“It only would’ve made you run away sooner” He jokes, a short laugh falling from his lips, but he can’t laugh too much because she just said the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to him and his heart is swelling up like a balloon in his chest.

She giggles with him, but shakes her head.

“Nah, I wouldn’t have,” She says, and then takes a long drink of her beer.  “You have too many good hiding places in plain daylight to run away.  Hiding right in front of people is what I’ve been dying for, you know”

“Like Ricky?” He asks before thinking.

The soft smile on her face falls, but she clears her throat and tries her best to neutralize her expression.  But she tries too hard, and Stan notices.

“Yeah,” She mumbles.  “But I guess from everyone now,”

She looks away from him, gazing with a heartbreaking fondness out at the sleeping town before her.  From the thick land of trees they’d driven through to get here, to the dimly lit houses, the old buildings.  She always thought Brownsville looked like the generic sort of town you could slap onto a postcard and say it was from anywhere in the midwest.

“I used to be able to be myself with Dina,” She said, almost out of nowhere.  “She was my best friend, it’s what she’s there for right?” She asks with a bitter chuckle.  “And then Brad asks her out and… steals her away from me”

(y/n) leans forward to rest her head on her arms again.

“That’s… bullshit,” Stan says.  “Sorry, that’s probably not what you want to hear”

“No, you’re right,” The girl whispers.  “It is bullshit.  Because we promised we wouldn’t change for each other, but now… now she’s popular and going to football games and pep rallies and- and that’s just not me.  I don’t know if it's her either… maybe it is now, I don’t know… I���m sorry, I don’t mean to vent-”

“It’s fine,” Stan says quickly.  “You can vent as much as you want.  It’s just us up here, might as well get it out of your system, right?”

She grins over at him, and raises her glass before finishing it off.

“Anything you have to vent about, then, Stanley Barber?” She questions.

“Nope,” He shrugs after thinking about it for a minute.  “For the first time in a while, I actually kind of like my life.  I like that my dad’s gone 25 days out of the month, I like getting to know you, I feel good”

Her grin only widens at the compliment, and she’s blushing again but she’s not as embarrassed by it this time.

They opened up their second bottles, and clicked them together as the last toast for the night.

“To liking life,” (y/n) muses.  “And to us, of course” She adds.

“Cheers,” Stan nods before they both take a drink.  “So here’s my first question of the night”

“Shoot”

“What’s Ricky Berry want with you, anyway?” He asks.  “Like… is he actually into you or are you a conquest- oh my god, I take that back, I don’t mean it like-”

His nervous ramblings stop when (y/n) begins to giggle, almost choking on her drink.

“No, no, you’re good, I don’t take offense,” She assures him.  “Ricky Berry is… well, besides a tool, he’s a character, in the book of my life,”

The drinks are starting to get to her, just a little bit.

“He’s the guy that tries and tries and tries, and he grows and learns from his mistakes, learns what I don’t want to hear and what’s not working, but somehow, he just finds ways to make new mistakes.  Not once has he asked me out in a coherent- or even normal- manner.  It’s always some line, or some dumb look that he tries”

“How long has this been going on?” Stan asks, his brows furrowed a bit.  

The idea of Ricky ‘Icky’ Berry asking (y/n) out repeatedly pisses him off.

“Nuh uh, it’s my turn for a question,” (y/n) murmurs, drinking as she thought.  “Oh, I know.  What’s your favorite memory?”

“Easy.  When mom was around and she’d make blueberry pancakes before school,” He says, maybe too fast.  “It sounds sad, but… no one could make them like her”

She gives him a warm smile, and reaches out to set her hand over top of his from where it was lying at his side.

“It’s not sad.  It’s sweet.  That’s a really good favorite memory”

He nods, reminiscing in the pleasant image in his head.

“Your turn now,” He says abruptly, not wanting to get lost in his own thoughts.  “How long has Ricky been chasing you around?”

“Oh, I don’t know, two years now, maybe?” She muses.  “I try not to pay him too much mind.  It’s not so important to me”

“Yeah, but… it’s kinda gross that he’s so persistent” Stan says with a cringe.

“You think so?” (y/n) asks.  “I mean, it’s annoying, but it’s never been, like, aggressive, or anything”

“Don’t you think it's the constant hitting on you that makes it aggressive though?” Stan asks.  “I mean, he knows you’re not interested, he should… um… stop” His voice gets quieter towards the end of his sentence, and he’s worried he’s crossed a line, since (y/n’s) gone silent.

“I guess so,” She finally whispers after a long moment.  “I never really thought of it like that”

She takes a few drinks of her beer before setting it down, and moving on to her own question.

“Do you and your dad not get along?”

“Nope,” He answers with a bark of a laugh.  “We never have.  Sometimes I think when I was born he changed his mind on having a baby, and held it against me personally.  But it’s okay.  I resent him too and I barely have to see him.  So.  Win-win”

She wants to be sad for him, because it’s unfortunate that Stan doesn’t get along with the only parent he has left.  But he just seems so… happy.  And she can tell he’s come to terms with it.  So instead she puts on a happy face, because she’s happy for him that he’s made his peace.  

She’d like to make her peace with her parents some day.

“Your turn” She murmurs.

“Alright.  What’s your deepest, darkest secret, (y/n) (y/l/n)?”

She raises her brows at the bold question, and the use of her full name, but she thinks it over carefully.

“And no lying!” He hastily adds.  “That’s not in spirit of the game”

“My deepest darkest secret…”

There’s lots of secrets she could share.  Secrets of her own, secrets of her parents, the few friends she had, hell, her whole life had been keeping secrets.  But now that Stan was asking for one, she didn’t know what to say.

“I used to dream about running away,” She settles.  “It probably started when I turned seven, that’s when my parents started talking about having another baby, to feel satisfied again.  I was pretty young to feel so…”

She blanks on the word she’s looking for, and Stan’s nervous to hear what it was.

“...worthless,” She finishes in a murmur.  “So I would walk up to the bus stops in town, memorize their schedules, just in case I ever needed to make a quick break.  And as I got older I… entertained the idea a little more.  Leaving earlier for school, just to walk long, new paths, ones I could use someday to skip town without anyone knowing.  And when I would walk home I would stall, wander more new places, anything to keep me from seeing them so soon,”

She smiles to herself, remembering the little adventures through Brownsville she would take when she was younger.

“One time after school, I walked around town until six o’clock,” She told him.  “When I got home, I told my mom I was with a teacher and had to stay late,” She licked her lips as her eyes met his, a small, watery smile on her lips.  “She checked the time, she hadn’t realized I was home so late- three hours late,” She whispered.  “I was ten”

“Jesus Christ,” Stan muttered.

His hand twitched under hers.  He wants to hold her hand, properly, fingers intertwined, but he was nervous she’d pull away from him if he made the move.

“Why didn’t you run away?”

“That’s a good question,” She says with a bittersweet laugh.  “I don’t know.  I certainly wanted to… hell, maybe I still do,”

She glances at him again, before whispering.

“I don’t know, maybe I’ll stay a little longer”

He smiles back at her, and he can’t help but let his eyes wander the features of her face.

“So,” (y/n) lets out a short sigh, before asking, “What’s your deepest darkest secret, then?”

“Don’t laugh,” Stan groans.  “And compared to yours, this is lame as fuck.  But… I have bacne”

(y/n) raises a brow, and she does have to hold back a laugh because she can’t believe that’s all he’s got.

“What?”

“Yeah”

“Like…”

“Like zits on my back and shit, yeah.  It sucks.  It’s the worst thing I’ve ever gone through, and that’s saying something, (y/n),” She giggles at his dramatic tone, covering her mouth with the hand that wasn’t laid over his.  “Yeah, yeah.  Laugh it up.  There’s no cure, I’ve done everything possible.  I just have to hope adulthood fixes me”

She’s still laughing, to the point where when it finally dies down, she has to take deep breaths.

He watches her shoulders rise and fall in sync with her chest, and how her fingers reach to her eyes to wipe away the tears that had welled in them from laughing so hard.  And still, he thinks she’s the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

She pushes her hair behind her ears, and turns to him once she’s calmed down, only to find his eyes are already focused on her.

“What?” She murmurs, a hint of a smile tugging on the corner of her lips.

“I… uh… I have my next question” He says, eyes flickering between hers, and the grond far, far below them.

“Go for it” (y/n) grins, eager to hear what strange thing he’s come up with this time.

“Will you, um, if you want, would you want to maybe, um, go to homecoming?” He asks, and it’s choppy, but he lets out a short breath of relief for just getting it out in the right words.  “With me?” He adds as an afterthought.

The smile on her face slowly falls, and despite her heart beating profoundly in her chest, she lifts her hand away from his.

He regrets it.  He wants to take it back but he knows he can’t, not without humiliating himself any further.  He wishes that he could pinch himself and wake up in bed, and find that tonight was just some wild dream meant to lift and then crush his spirits.

It wasn’t a dream, but his spirits were still very crushed.

“Stan…” She whispers, and he prepares himself for the blow.

I don’t like you like that.  You’re just a friend.  Why’d you have to make this weird?

No matter what she ended up saying, it would hurt the same.

“It’s fine, I get it” He shakes his head, not even wanting to hear her excuse.

“You shouldn’t… it’s just…” (y/n) sighs, and closes her eyes while trying to find the right words.  “You just shouldn’t get involved with me, that’s all,” She whispers so softly that it’s a faint mumble to his ears.  “It’s complicated… I’m complicated”

You aren’t, he thinks, but he doesn’t dare say it.

“It’s really fine.  I know it’s not your thing” He says, just wishing she’d stop trying to make him feel better.

“Yeah,” She mumbles.  “You should go with someone that wants to go and- and have a good time with you, you know?” She says.  “Someone that will actually dance and not just sit on the bleachers”

He looks over at her, forcing a smile on his face.

“And here I thought that you weren’t as much of a funsucker tonight,” He teases, making her smile too.  “You really sit during dances?”

“The one that I went to, yes,” She laughs quietly.  “It’s really not my thing,”

It’s comfortable between them again, which they’re both incredibly grateful for.  But Stanley’s hopes are still ruined.  He’d really thought she’d say yes, he had prepared earlier tonight, and even knowing that she had a thing against homecoming he’d thought that maybe he could be her exception.  Apparently not.

She throws back the rest of her beer, hoping that the tension that she’s now created between them will go away on it’s own.  It wasn’t Stanley’s fault, she knew it was her own for turning him down like that.  

And truth was, a part of her did want to go to the dance with him.  It actually sounded… nice.  But the other part of her, the sensible part, reminded her of what she was getting into.  She knew that she wasn’t the easiest person to be around, she would go out and have fun every once in a while, but eventually she’d hole herself back up in her room and be antisocial for weeks on end.  Not to mention how bad it would get once her parents came back.  Reflecting on herself, all she saw was drama, and problems.  It wasn’t fair to Stan for her to involve him in her messy life.

“I have a question for you” She speaks after a few minutes of them drinking in quiet.

“I have an answer” He responds.

“How do you think I’m supposed to get down from here?”

Stan begins to laugh, and she lets out a few nervous giggles with him, but ultimately stares him down for an answer.

“I’m serious,” She said.  “There’s no way in hell I’m climbing down that ladder”

Her eyes were wide and her brows were raised, waiting for him to give her some alternative solution to getting back down to earth.  Which didn’t involve jumping, or the ladder.

“Oh shit, for real?” ___

[ you said i’m missing you ]

Over the next three days, (y/n) made it a point to see Stanley more often.  In the halls she’d say hi, and if she had time to kill she’d walk with him to class and talk about all the random things he likes to talk about.

They hung out a few times in the library, and she started sitting with him at lunch too.  It earned her a few looks, but no one said anything about it.  Not that she cared, she enjoyed Stan’s company, and she wanted to seek it out more.

So on Wednesday night, instead of going to bed early, she decided instead to walk down to the bowling alley.  She’d heard him complain enough about working there to remember, and thought it would be nice to surprise him.

She was surprised that the doors weren’t locked when she got there, since it closes at nine on weeknights, and it was nearing ten o’clock now.  She could tell Stanley was surprised when she walked in, too.

“We’re closed- oh, hey” He smiled when he realized it was only her.

“I think part of the ‘locking up’ duties is actually locking up” She teases him as she wanders inside.

She’d never actually been to the bowling alley.  To be there you either had to have been invited to a birthday party when you were a kid, or have friends and family to go with.  She had neither.

When she takes a seat at the alley Stan’s currently cleaning up, it’s then that she notices the black and blue shiner on his eye.  It’s a little faint, sure to disappear in a day or two, but once it catches her eye she can’t hold back the gasp.

“Oh my god, Stan, what happened?” She asked, already flying up from her seat to get a closer look.

He seems confused by what she’s asking for a moment, and then turns his head away before she can study it too hard.

“Nothing- it’s nothing, don’t worry about it” He tried dismissing it, picking up two of the bowling balls left behind.

(y/n) frowns as she watches him walk away to put them on the proper shelf.

“Stan,” She calls, her tone more demanding this time.  “What happened? Who did that?”

“It seriously doesn’t matter, (y/n),” He responds, and she can tell he’s getting annoyed, but she doesn’t really care.  “It doesn’t even hurt anymore”

Something about how his voice drops, and he can’t look at her while he busies himself with cleaning up, just gives her the answer.  It clicks in her head like a lightbulb moment, and she finds herself grabbing his wrist so he’d stop moving and actually look at her for a minute.

“Was it your dad?” She asks, voice barely rising above a murmur.

She knows she’s right, she can feel it.  She didn’t even know his father was back for the weekend, and it’s unexplainable who she assumed such a thing so quickly, but Stan’s sigh confirms her answer.

Her hand slips down from his wrist to grasp onto his, but he rips it away and walks back to the counter to continue cleaning.

“We don’t have to talk about it-”

“We’re not” He said before she could finish.

It’s not what she wants to hear, they both know that, but she doesn’t want to push him, so she doesn’t.

“Do you want any help cleaning up?” She offers instead, anything to ease his mind and help him out.

“I’m almost done,” He says while wiping down the front counter.  “Just gotta lock up before I go”

She nods, and it goes silent between them while she stands and watches him work.

It’s not a comfortable silence, like she’d gotten used to with him.  The air feels heavy, and she’s drowning herself in her own worries the longer she stands there.  Stan can’t bring himself to look at her, he’s too ashamed, too nervous, and he knows that her eyes are full of tears and her brow is furrowed in concern- he thinks he might cry if he looks at her like that for too long.

“Stan?” She says softly, and he casts a short glance towards her, before quickly staring back down at the counter he’s wiping.  “Could… could you drive me home?”

It’s a simple question, and she doesn’t necessarily need the ride.  The walk to the bowling alley was a short ten minutes, and she didn’t mind walking at all.  But she didn’t want to be alone, and more importantly, she didn’t want him to be alone.  A ride home wouldn’t be too bad, anyways.  She did live on his street.

“Yeah” He answers, just as quiet.

He finishes up cleaning, then motions for him to follow her out the door.

She walks close behind him, and waits patiently while he locks the front door.  The walk silently to his car.

It’s weird that music is playing while neither of them say anything.  She wants to turn it off, be in total silence.  But maybe the music makes it less awkward for him.

The drive is short, and before she knows it he’s pulled up outside of her house.

“Thank you” She whispers out, but she’s still sitting in the passenger’s seat, and has made no move to open the door and get out.

“No problem” He mumbles back, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel while he waits.

She knows she has to either speak up or get out sooner than later, and it’s already been way too long to just sit here and do nothing.  So she takes a deep breath and goes for it.

“You know that you can… you could always um… come stay with me,” She says, eyes flickering over to his anxiously.  “If you wanted,” She added in a softer whisper.  “My parents are out of town till the end of the week… so… you could stay until he’s gone”

He gives her a short, weak smile in response, and nods his head.

“Thanks,” He says quietly.  “But uh… it’s fine.  He leaves me alone, I mean, he’s got it out of his system, so…”

(y/n) nods her head uncomfortably, looking down at her lap and fiddling with her fingers.

“Yeah, yeah that’s good,” She mumbles.  “I’ll see you at school”

She’s getting out of the car fast now, like she can’t do it fast enough, and Stan wants to kick himself as he watches her walk quickly into her house.

She was only trying to help, he thinks, before hitting his head down on top of the wheel and letting out a groan of frustration.

He’ll just have to make it up to her tomorrow. ___

[ they talkin’ now, just block em out ]

(y/n) doesn’t see Stan the next day at school.  Not in the halls, not even in the classes that she might have snuck around to peek into that she knew he had.  It was almost embarrassing, but she was worried about him.  With his dad still in town, and their awkward parting last night, she was starting to get uncomfortable.

She sat alone at lunch.  She could’ve sat with Dina, since Stanley was a no-show.  But she looked pretty busy with Brad and the rest of the football team and cheerleading squad.  And sitting alone was better than that.

She’d been picking around her plate for fifteen minutes now, and there was only another fifteen left in the lunch period.  A part of her wanted to ditch school, maybe swing by his place to see if he was home, but she didn’t want to come across as stalker-y or anything-

“Hey, sunshine,”

The girl almost jumped out of her seat, looking up to see the boy himself plopping down at the table across from her.

“Stanley-!”

“I brought you, uh, something,” He said, handing over a brown paper bag.  “It’s lunch”

There’s a smile on her face as she looks at it.  He’d doodled all over it, flowers and smiles and dorky little scribbles, around the bold lettering that read (y/n’s) Lunch.

“Why?” She asks while opening it up.

“Um, I feel uh.. I feel really bad about last night,” He said anxiously, his hands patting against the tabletop.  “So.. I made you lunch”

(y/n) giggles, pulling out a small tupperware container with a pre-peeled orange inside, and then a snack cake, and then a sandwich.

“What’s on this?” She asked, brows furrowing when he blushes.

“There’s actually three sandwiches in there,” He tells her.  “I didn’t know what you liked…”

She giggles as she looks over her lunch options, and shakes her head.

“Stan, you didn’t have to-”

“Yeah, I- I did,” He says, and (y/n) hands him one of the sandwiches.  “I’m really sorry, (y/n), I was just upset with my dad and I wish I hadn’t taken that out on you, you were only trying to help”

“It’s okay,” (y/n) assures, giving him a soft smile while enjoying her lunch.  “I understand.  It’s okay,” It’s quiet for a moment, before she adds, “Your eye is already looking better today”

He returns a weak smile, before nodding his head a little bit.

“Yeah.  Good thing too.  I don’t want to look stupid at homecoming”

With the cheesy grin that starts to appear on her face, he already knows what she’s going to say.

“I’m sure you’ll find another way to look stupid-“ She starts to tease him, but he’s not having it.

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” He says abruptly.

(y/n) shakes her head at him while she laughs, prying open the orange he’d brought for her.  She splits it in half and hands part of it to him.

“So I was thinking of asking Mercedes…” Stan says slowly, eyes trained on the orange.  He’s too nervous to look at (y/n).  “To homecoming”

Mercedes? She thinks.  The holier-than-thou boring girl on the cheerleading squad?

“She’s cute!” (y/n) says encouragingly, her lips tugging into a tight, and rather forced, smile.

“Yeah,” Stan mumbles, and shrugs his shoulders like he’s not so sure.  “She’s nice, I mean, we’re partners in Bio”

Wow.  What chemistry you have.  It takes a lot of effort for (y/n) not to roll her eyes.

“You should ask her” She tells him.  

But her voice is quiet, and she’s intent on peeling the white skin from the orange slices.  Anything to keep from making eye contact with him right now.

“You don’t mind?”

Her eyes shoot up to him at the question, features falling for just a moment before she carefully crafts them into a happier expression.

“I just don’t want to make it weird,” Stan says quickly, because he catches the flicker of a frown on her lips.  “You know… so I just wanted to let you know-“

“Not weird,” She rushes out, shaking her head as well.  “I don’t mind at all.  I told you that you deserve to go with someone you’ll have a good time with”

I don’t know how anyone could have a good time with Mercedes, though, she wants to say, but she keeps her lip zipped.

“Cool” Stanley says, and gives her a thumbs up.

There’s a brief second, maybe even half a second, where she wants to take it back.  Unfortunately, just as she opens her mouth, not knowing what she was going to say, Stan was getting up from the table, and wandering over to another.

No.

“Hey, Mercedes,”

Why do I have to listen to this.

“So I was wondering…”

(y/n) almost covers her hands over her ears.  But she’s frozen in her seat, trapped watching the scene unfold in front of her.  Stan was smiling, and sat down next to the girl as he spoke excitedly about homecoming, and that he’d like to take her.

(y/n) winced, and waited impatiently- maybe just as impatient as Stan- for Mercedes answer.

“Yeah, that sounds great!”

She looks so happy, and it just about tears (y/n’s) heart in two.

Stan looks even happier, and she feels like the biggest jerk on the planet.

And that’s saying something, since Brad Lewis is sitting just a few tables away from her.

She tries her best to block out the conversation that the new pair are having about plans.  He’s picking her up at 7:30, they’ll take a few pictures before heading out, and then he’ll drop her back off after the dance, around 10:00.

Stanley rejoins (y/n) at their lunch table a few minutes later, and she wills herself to give him a smile.

“Sounds like that went well” She says softly, and he grins back at her.

“Yeah, it did”

“Good,” She replies, popping an orange slice in her mouth.  “I’m glad”

They eat in silence for a little bit, and Stan starts to get the feeling that he’s upset her.  Even though it doesn’t make sense, since she’d turned him down, and prompted him to go ask Mercedes.  He doesn’t ask her about it, he’s smarter than that.  But he does wonder if it’s true.

“So what are you going to do that night?” He asks.

“Hm?”

“Friday night, what are you going to do instead?”

“Oh, you know, sit around, plotting against the patriarchy” She jokes, but it’s half-assed, and the laugh she lets out fades weakly back into silence.

“Well, if you change your mind, I could come pick you up”

She smiles, and almost agrees, but just as quickly shuts her mouth and shakes her head politely.

“No, no it’s your night, you should enjoy it with your date”

He wants to remind her that they’re friends, and that means a five minute drive is nothing to him, that he’d be happy to bring her along.  But the bell rings, and she’s quick to grab her bag and shoot off of her seat like a rocket.

“See you after school?” She asks, and Stan nods.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll meet you in the parking lot”

She agrees, and bolts out of the cafeteria without another word.

Stan’s certain that he’s messed up, but he doesn’t understand how, or how to even fix it. ___

[ if you’re over thinking i’ll get high with you // if you’re ever sinking i’ll go down with you ]

They’d only just arrived at the homecoming dance, and already, Stan had gotten himself ditched.

He supposed he shouldn’t have lit a joint in the car.  Apparently Mercedes had a thing against weed, and he hadn’t realized that anyone still gave a shit about it.  He probably shouldn’t have joked about it either.

Her reprimanding him and letting him know he’ll die a crack addict was her way of saying she wasn’t going to be his date tonight.  At least he assumed, because as soon as they walked into the school, she told him to leave her alone, and that she’d be spending the night with her friends.

So for the first twenty minutes of the dance, he found himself sitting on the bleachers.  It would be easier if there was at least one other person there, another loner, another reject that hadn’t gotten a date in time.  But no, he was the only one.  The only loner.

He pulled his sunglasses off his head and put them on.

He contemplated leaving, save himself from further embarrassment.  However he figured he’d be even more if he had to tell (y/n) that he ditched the dance early.

He supposed he could lie.  He wasn’t all that bad of a liar.  Still, (y/n) had a good bullshit detector.

Maybe he could leave now and visit her instead, see if she wants to do literally anything else.  People keep sending him looks, some pitiful, some humored, but both were the same amount of hurtful.

Just as he decided he was going to make a break for it, he froze completely, something in his line of sight stopping and vanquishing all thoughts about leaving- all thoughts about anything really.

(y/n) (y/l/n) was standing there, at the gym entrance, eyes scanning the area- Stan assumed looking for him- with a curious sort of smile on her face.

She hadn’t looked his way yet, so he didn’t mind openly staring at her while she stayed hidden in the doorway.  The dress and makeup she was wearing is what made her beautiful, but there was a different type of beauty to her that he hadn’t seen before.  Something soft and princess-like.

The pale pink dress she wore was simple and silky, and fell just a little past her fingertips, although she was nervously grasping at the material, curling her fingers in and out.

Her hair fell naturally, if not a little curled at it’s ends, and it looked incredibly soft, even from a distance.

Finally, her eyes land on his, and she seems to pause for a minute.  Perhaps to collect her thoughts, or deciding if this was still a good idea.  He can almost see the gears in her head turning.

But a moment later she’s walking up to him, a shy smile on her lips as she tucks her hands behind her back to stop herself from fiddling with her skirt.  She doesn’t want him to see how nervous she is, and she hasn’t realized that he’s been watching her for the better part of a solid minute, so he already knows.

“What are you doing here?” Stan asks, pushing his glasses back on top of his mess of curls once she’s standing in front of him.

“I… um…” She glances around the gym, taking in the balloons, the streamers, the horribly mainstream music playing.  “I changed my mind”

She looks back at him, more bashful than he’s ever seen her before.  In the last week that he’s gotten to know her, he’s noticed that she doesn’t get shy.  She doesn’t blush, and she doesn’t fidget.

The (y/n) before him was a completely different girl.

“No shit,” He responds, a smirk on his face.  “Why?”’

She looks down at her shoes- an old pair of white heels that she once bought at a second-hand store, Dina had told her she’d need them some day, and apparently she was right- and gave a limp shrug of her shoulders.

And then she reaches her hand out to him, waiting patiently for him to stand and take it.

“Come on,” She murmurs.  “I told you that you deserve someone who will dance with you, and not sit on the bleachers”

He chuckles, but his heart is racing in his chest as he extends his hand, gently grasping onto hers as he stands from the bench.  A bright smile flashes across her lips, as even in her heels she has to tilt her head back to look at him.

“And that’s you?” He asks.

Neither of them have moved, not an inch.  They’re standing just a few inches apart, connected only by their hands.  And their eyes, I suppose.

“Looks like it” She mumbles.

He gestures for her to lead the way, and she excitedly pulls him with her onto the dance floor.  She knows people are looking at them, for many reasons, she’s sure.  But she can’t bring herself to look away from Stan.

He take’s their joined hands and reaches upward, prompting her to spin around under his arm.  She gives him a look, but he nods erratically, and she surrenders, giving him a short twirl.

“Oh come on, have some liveliness won’t you?” He mocks her pitiful attempt at dancing.

“I don’t dance-”

“Bullshit, come on, like this,” He says, lifting their hands again, and ducking down dramatically so he can spin around underneath them.  It’s a quick twirl, and when he’s facing her again, his free hand does a little jazzy motion.

She laughs, because he’s adorably entertaining.

“Now you go” He said, waiting for her to give it another try.

She pouts for a second,but when she realizes he’s not going to move until she obliges, she throws their hands up enthusiastically and twirls around on her toes.  The skirt of her dress fans out with the rapid movement, only making her look a thousand times more graceful as she spins.  She gives him a delighted smile as she balances herself on both feet again.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He asks teasingly, and she only rolls her eyes back at him.

They continue the cute little dance for the rest of the song, sharing laughs and smiles, and forgetting where they even were for a few minutes.

The next song that plays is slower, not exactly a slow song, but not one that’s easy to dance to like they were before.

She doesn’t wait for him to take her hand this time.  Instead, she reaches her arms up to wrap them around his neck, and takes a tentative step closer.

Stan hesitates a moment before placing his hands on her waist.

“So,” She speaks to clear the tension in the air between them.  “What’d you do to make your date run away?”

He almost laughs at how certain she is that he’s at fault for Mercedes ditching him tonight.  

“Might’ve smoked a little pot outside,” He admitted.  “I guess she thinks I’m an addict now, or something, I dunno”

(y/n) giggles, which turns into full blown bubbling laughter.  Her shoulders are shaking and she’s not swaying with him anymore, all the while Stan stares at her with complete unamusement.

“Come on, Stan, everyone knows she’s obsessed with being pure,” She tells him once her laughter has quietened enough that she can speak.  “You smoked a blunt right in front of her-?”

“Yes!” He stresses the word, and she giggles again, shaking her head.

“You’re hilarious,” She says softly, and begins to sway back and forth with him again.  “I can’t believe you”

As it gets quiet between them, she looks down at her shoes again.  Partially because she doesn’t want to step on his feet as they move, but also because it’s hard to stare at him in silence when they’re so close.

“I asked her what her deepest darkest secret was,” He says suddenly, and she looks up again.  “She didn’t have a good answer”

“What’d she say?”

“Okay so she didn’t answer at all.  She actually said that it was a weird question” He confesses.

“It is a weird question,” (y/n) repeats, brows furrowed, and quickly follows it with,  “But that’s the point”

Stan shrugs in agreement.

“She doesn’t get it” He says with a small smile.

“No, she doesn’t” (y/n) hums back, and then she’s looking at the floor again.

“Hey, um…” He starts to speak but he slows his words and licks his lips.  “Thanks.  For coming, I mean”

She nods her head, and self-consciously pushes her hair back behind her ear.

“Yeah,” She murmurs.  “You know I- I just figured it’s um… it’s our last homecoming… so…” The longer she stammers over her words, the pinker her cheeks turned, but Stan found it endearing.  “Why not?” She finishes almost under her breath.

She clears her throat, and forces her nerves to be under control.

“Besides, I had to see you wear this suit again,” She said, playfully tugging at the lapels on his jacket.  “So cute” She adds in a mumble.

He laughs at the compliment while she reaches her hands behind his neck again.  He can tell she’s fidgeting with her fingers, but again he decides not to comment on her obvious anxiety.

“You look beautiful,” He says, and she can’t help but duck her head down.  

Her cheeks are starting to get hot, and there’s no way she’s going to let him see her blushing that hard.

“Really beautiful,” He continues.  “I- I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress.  No that it matters! It’s just nice- you look nice,”

She laughs softly at how he stumbles over his words, but he takes in a breath to put himself at ease so he won’t ramble as much.

“I think it stems from you being a nice person,” He says.  “I mean- you’re beautiful, you are, but, uh, it’s your own self that amplifies that beauty, I think,”

Somehow (y/n) manages the courage to look up at him, her laughter fading as she watches him with a more serious expression.  His words are so sincere and heartfelt that they make her feel paralyzed, and she listens to him go on intently.

His tongue darts our to wet his lips, because suddenly they feel very dry, and (y/n’s) staring at him almost expectantly.

“You’re not complicated,” His voice goes soft, and his eyes flicker in between hers as he speaks, absolutely sure of himself.  “You’re confusing, you’re very confusing, but… not complicated”

Her own gaze travels his features, lingering on his lips, which she notes are a mere two inches away from hers.

“I-”

“You’re not,” He shakes his head before she can argue with him.  “I get that you think you are, because you’ve got all this- this shit, trust me, I get it,” He lets out a short sigh before going on.  “But you’re not complicated.  Not to me,”

Her eyes are glossy, and if he looked close enough he would’ve seen that the corner of her smile is a bit wobbly.

“Ricky Berry has barely scratched the surface of why he should be so lucky to go out with you,”

Her lips part, like she’s about to say something, but she’s at a complete loss of words.  But there’s nothing to say, nothing proper anyways.

And then she’s smiling, wide, and so, so happy.

“What?” Stan asks obliviously.

She just shakes her head at him.

“You, idiot” She whispers shakily, before leaning up on the tips of her toes, and pressing her lips against his.

It’s a sweet kiss, gentle, as it was a new experience for the both of them anyways.  Not to mention much anticipated, so now that it was actually happening, it was almost surreal.

One of her hands drifts from where they’d been latched behind his neck, to lay delicately against his cheek.  His skin is soft, and warm against the palm of her hand.

When she starts to lean back to pull away, his hands let go of her waist so that his arms can completely encircle her body, and pull her right back into him.  She smiles as his lips slant over hers passionately.

Her hands splayed over his cheeks, before she hooked her arms around his neck again, pulling him down with her when she stands back on her heels again.

When they pull apart this time, it’s slow, and her lips linger against his for a moment, before he stands back up to his full height.

They’re wearing the same nervous smiles, and her eyes dart from the floor to his own shyly.

Stan’s hold on her relaxes, and his arms release her, to place his hands on her hips again.

(y/n) lets out a short breath of a laugh, and the smile on her face is unmoving.  She couldn’t wipe it off if she wanted to.

She could, however, reach up towards his lips and drag her thumb over them, effectively rubbing away the pink stain she’d left behind.

“You- uh, you had some lipstick on your mouth” She says with a giggle.

“Did it make my eyes pop?” He asked without hesitation, and she nodded her head as she laughed again.

“Yeah, sure” She answered.

She smiled at him brightly, before stepping closer, and leaning her head against his shoulder.  She couldn’t remember the last time she was this relaxed, but it didn’t matter.  Because she’s never been more content than she is right now.

They continue their dance slowly, and in pleasant silence.  Eventually, her eyes fall shut, and she’s just standing there, holding him, barely moving back and forth to the sweet love song playing through the speakers.

And when the next song that comes on is an upbeat one, neither of them move.

It’s not until the dance is over, and people are filing out of the school that they decide they’ve had enough.  As they walk out to the parking lot, she slips her hand into his, intertwining their fingers gently.

He thinks that her hand fits perfectly into his, in a way that’s almost romantic.

“Do you think I could get a ride home?” She asks, looking over to him.  “I kinda walked here”

“You walked all the way here?” He asks, and she nods.  “In those?” He questions her again, gesturing to her ridiculous heels for walking so far in.

“Yes,” She giggles.  “How else was I supposed to get here?”

“I told you to call if you wanted a ride!” Stanley shouts, not angrily, just exasperated that she’d do something so foolish when he’d offered her help.  (y/n) laughs at him, and squeezes his hand softly.

“Well at that point I just wanted to get here as quickly as I could,” She murmurs.  “I didn’t care if I had to walk that far”

He smiled down at her, and nodded his head.

“Yeah, of course I’ll give you a ride home,” He said as they reached his car.  “But, we’re listening to Bloodwitch”

She shrugs, as though to say fine.  Not that she really minds, she’s kinda starting to like the band anyways.

The drive to their neighborhood is short, but it’s nice.  Stan sings the whole way, and (y/n) doesn’t know the words but she enjoys watching his little performance.

When he pulled up outside of her house, she hesitated for a minute.

“Look, Stan I just… I just wanted to… um…”

“Thank me for the magical night?” Stan asks with a goofy grin.

She lets out a short laugh, a shy one, and nods her head.

“I guess, yeah.  I was actually gonna say that I was… um… sorry,” She mumbles softly.

Stan’s brows furrows, and he wonders what the hell she has to apologize for.

“For not saying yes in the first place,” She continues.  “I should have.  I- I really wanted to go with you, I did,” She adds.  “I was just… um… I didn’t want to let you down, you know? I- I didn’t want you to be disappointed when you realized-”

“Realized what?” He asks, scoffing a bit as he shakes his head.  “(y/n), come on, you do know there’s nothing you could say or do that would ever disappoint me, right?”

She shrugs sheepishly, and pushes her hair behind her ear.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” He told her, turning in his seat to be facing her properly.  “It’s okay”

She gives him a small smile, and shrugs again.

“I… I really like you, Stan,” She whispers, eyes flickering in between his.  “And I’m just glad that you didn’t leave before I could get there”

He grins, and despite the blush that’s making his cheeks turn pink, he gets a little bit cocky.

“You like me?” He asks, and now she’s blushing too, as she nods her head in the smallest movement.

“Yeah, I do,” She says in a murmur.  “So… are you gonna do something about it?” She teases, leaning in closer to him, over the center console of his car.

He leans in as well, but just as she’s about to close her eyes, he stops, and she waits for him to do something, to make a move, but he doesn’t.  She crinkles her brow, eyes flickering almost madly over his features.

“What are you doing?” She asked softly.

He raised a hand to her face, fingers skimming over her cheek.  There was a sweet smile on his face as his eyes wandered over her features.

“I just wanted to take a look at you, is that such a crime?” He asks.  The comment makes her cheek flush pinker than what’s left of the lipstick on her lips.

“It is when I want you to kiss me, Barber”

She’s teasing him, but she couldn’t help but whisper, her nerves getting the best of her.

He grins, however, hand smoothing over her cheek as he draws her in, before carefully planting his lips on hers.

She melts into the kiss so completely that she leans fully over the center console of the car, her arms wrapping around Stanley’s neck so that she could keep herself balanced, and not fully collapse.

Their soft kiss escalates quickly, as she deepens it, parting her lips the smallest amount, giving him access to trace his tongue over her bottom lip.

She parted her lips further so he could continue, and her fingers dove into his hair, coiling his curls around each finger.  She wanted to smile, and it was hard to hold it back, but she managed somehow.

She only released his curls to pull the sunglasses off of his head.  In the meantime his hands traveled from her face, down her arms, before landing on her hips, and gripping her hips.

(y/n) shifted in her seat, pulling her legs up to sit on her knees, and she moved forwards a bit, prompting him to sit back in his seat, so that she could crawl over the center console, and sit down on his lap.

However, just as Stanley was leaning back, and (y/n) was maneuvering herself over towards him while trying not to let her dress ride up- too much- there was a sudden and rapid knock on the car’s window.

Confused, the pair pulled away from one another.  They shared a puzzled look, before Stan caught sight of who had knocked on the passenger window.  His lost expresion quickly morphed into one of fear, and in a shaky fashion, he pointed behind her.

(And when she turned he tugged the hem of her dress down)

“Mom!?” She shrieked, leaping away from Stanley and smoothing out her hair and skirt, hastily trying to make herself more presentable.

Not that it really mattered, seeing as they’d already been caught red-handed.

The girl’s mother didn’t look angry, but she certainly wasn’t amused.

(y/n) was quick to roll down the window, already racking her brain for any sort of excuse or distraction she could use, but her mind was blank, as she was only worried about the trouble she was about to be in.

“Wh-when did you get home?” She asked, forcing a smile towards her mother.

“About thirty minutes ago,” The woman answered.

She leaned over a bit to see into the car better, eyes landing on Stanley, who gave a nervous smile and wave.

“Nice to see you, Stanley,” Mrs (y/l/n) spoke.  “Thank you for dropping (y/n) off”

“Y-yeah, no problem,” He answered awkwardly.  “I’ll- I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Despite her own anxiety about this whole ordeal, she grinned at him and nodded.

“Yeah,” She agreed.  “Come pick me up in the morning?”

“Will do”

(y/n) gets out of the car, following her mom up to their front door, and talking animatedly- he can only assume it’s about him, which makes his heart do a little backflip.

“Oh, wait I forgot my shoes!”

(y/n) turned to head back to the car before Stan could drive down the street to his own house.

He gives her a funny look as she leans in through the open window.

“I live like- right next door,” He chuckles.  “I could’ve brought them over at any point-”

“I know,” She says playfully, and leans in further to give him a quick kiss.  “I just wanted to say goodnight”

The smile on her face is bright and beautiful- and it reminds him that someday he has to paint her.

“You’re adorable” He says.

“Goodnight” She whispers back, before grabbing her heels from the floor, and actually going inside.

Her mom had been waiting at the front door and saw the whole interaction, but she didn’t care this time.  Her happiness outweighed the awkwardness.

They both went home and to bed with eager smiles on their faces, knowing this next chapter together was going to be an exciting one.  Of course, everything was exciting with Stanley Barber, and she wouldn’t have to worry about being left bored and alone in her room again.

[ all i need my baby and a cigarette ]

___

xoxo ~ jordie