#does he track my fics and let me add up word counts?

[messrsrarchives]

"if you don't want to use goodreads or storygraph for fanfiction try this app inste-"

use a spreadsheet 😖 a basic spreadsheet 😖 stop putting fanfictions into random apps without the authors approval 😖 or at all 😖 stop viewing fanfic as tradlit 😖 or as a product😖 if the app has a rating system 😖 then it is Not for fanfiction 😖 not everything needs to be publicly tracked 😖 or compared 😖 or rated 😖 just enjoy 😄

[jjenthusee]

Racing Hearts

f1!driver!Jason x reporter!Reader

A/N: i know i said that i felt like writing a toxic f1!driver!Jason, but my mind always reverts back to fluff and hurt/comfort. i can’t help it. :( So ENJOY <3 comment if your comfortable, let me know your thoughts, and please check out the art that inspired this fic (F1 Driver, F1 Driver Pt.2 and F1 Driver Pt.3) i’m proud of how everything came together \(^~^)/ ALSO I SEE THOSE OF U WHO SPAM LIKE, REBLOG, OR COMMENT ON ALL MY WRITING (I LOVE ALL OF YOU) it makes me geek out fr

The story will continue! Here is pt. 2 HEHEHE

Tags: banter, agonizing fluff, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers, sudden roy harper appearance???,

Word Count: 3.7k

The lights were bright, rapid flashes brightening every angle of Jason’s face as he stood in front of multiple cameras.

His sweat pricking his forehead and running down the sides of his face, shimmering from the light, making him even more attractive as he finally felt the sun on his skin after a race.

His racing helmet clasped in his hand, towel in the other, dabbing at the sides of his neck. His hair perfectly messy from his win.

Fans screaming his name, reporters trying to get his attention. A man finally stopping him in his tracks, shoving a microphone closer to him, surpassing those who were also trying to talk to the star in question.

“Jason, we have seen your name repeatedly throughout racing legacies, what’s the secret to having such a great career?”

Jason continued to walk again, waving at fans, effortlessly pleasing the crowd one look at a time. The reporters and photographers following him like pigeons flocking to food on the ground. Shouting to repeat his name.

After dabbing his towel to his face, he turned back to look at the interviewer. A sparkle in his eyes.

“You’re lookin’ at him. What else do I need?” Jason smugly smiled, briefly making eye contact with the interviewer as he spoke, the interviewer’s face slightly reddening. Giving his classic swoon worthy smirk, fans erupting behind him trying to get a glimpse.

Just another day as one of the world’s best racer.

——

Jason had arrived late, his ball cap worn nicely on his head, his classic Red Bull uniform snug around his fit physique.

Bright lights burned down on him, giving the cameras the best lighting. Jason’s flaws were being watched like a hawk, ready to be shown, but he confidently walked to the microphones.

He let out his signature smile, a quick wink to the nearest interviewer, tapping the microphone in front of him.

Repeated thump thumps echoed through the speakers as he sat down, his management team not far off the stage as he took one of the two seats. The other driver no where in sight, his bright orange hair nonexistent next to Jason. The iconic duo not yet together.

Multiple hands raised, ready to ask Jason any big questions they had been saving for the past twenty minutes until one of the two men decided to join. The press conference should have started once his companion arrived, but journalists weren’t patient people.

“Mr. Todd! How does it feel to add another win to your belt and beat your own record?” A bright young man asked from the crowd, his glasses bouncing off his nose.

Jason laughed, pride taking up the entire room.

“I didn’t know there was any other option.” Jason leaned into the mic, giving a show of his arms crossed, muscles on the table in front of him.

You could practically hear the fans screaming through the camera as you sat a couple rows from the racer. You were surprised his ego didn’t push you off your seat when he arrived.

“Jason! There is talk that your contract is near its end and you are possibly thinking about changing teams, what are your thoughts?” A blonde woman asked two rows in front of you.

“I always think of my fans first, I want to carefully consider everything when I make that decision. Plus, I can’t deny how good I look in black.” Jason teasingly tilted his head.

A quiet scoff left your mouth.

It was now or never, you didn’t know how loud the room was going to get once the second racer arrived.

You raised your hand, standing up to talk face to face to Formula 1’s hottest driver, Jason Todd.

Well…face to face was pushing it, there were other reporters also trying to get their chance with the ever bright star.

But a press conference was a press conference, if you don’t make yourself known, you don’t get to ask any questions.

Once Jason’s focus landed on your standing form, he nodded at you, giving you permission to speak.

Returning the courtesy, you nodded your head.

“Gotham’s greatest has returned.” You smiled, notebook in hand, voice even.

“Please, no need for an introduction.” Jason chuckled, interrupting your sentence as the rest of the crowd laughed with him.

Charmer. You thought.

Patience has always been your virtue, too many people tested you in your line of work, but you could handle someone as spontaneous as Jason Todd.

“Not only do you have the skill, you have the money, and the team to back you up. You are engineered for success.” You explained.

Jason chuckled, charming smile broadening at the compliments.

“You have such a nice way with words.” He relayed through the microphone, projecting his husky voice throughout the room, gaining another laugh from the crowd.

“But your Chief Technical Officer is leaving this season, digging a huge hole in your team. His legacy changed the engineering of your vehicle because he introduced you to your legendary car. Putting you and your other driver, Roy Harper, in a position of possibly seeing your racing careers coming to an end as your CTO retires.”

“You do have a way with words.” Jason repeated, irritation pricking at his skin, but keeping that picture perfect smile for the camera. You smiled again, a tiny bit wider at his strain.

“In other words, your fans are wondering, if your car can’t be at it’s top shape, there’s only so much skill you can perfect before technology surpasses you and you can only see the rear wing of all your opponents.”

Ouch. Jason thought, smiling through your verbal jabs, but none of the amusement reflected in his eyes as he stared at you.

“What did you say your name was?” Jason sat up straighter, his tone lowering. He was used to mindlessly giving eye contact, giving that mind numbing attention that most people on the internet fawned over.

This time it was different, he focused in on the reporter standing not far from his seat, never lowering their eyes from him.

You smiled, slow and calm, basking in causing the change in the flirtatious F1 driver.

Now you had his attention.

“All legacies come to an end, Mr. Todd.” You continued, never answering his question. “Now that your CTO Elainey Usoro is confirmed to leave, will we be able to witness your legacy end in the upcoming season?”

“Aren’t you jumping the gun? Of course my name will continue to be recognized.” Jason scoffed.

“But will it be recognized as the star that lost its fame?” You nudged again.

Jason’s face went neutral, observing you. You stared back, not wavering in your eye contact, a calm diligence.

A tension blanketed the conference room.

Roy threw his arm around Jason’s shoulders in a friendly manner, leaning against his driving buddy as he also threw a flirtatious smile. His laid back demeanor cut up the tension filling the room, the reporters getting oddly quiet at the sudden back and forth of you and Jason, but saved by the second driver’s arrival.

Roy was as fashionably late as usual, throwing a kiss towards the management team on the side lines. His iconic bright hair covered in a backwards ball cap.

They erupted his name around you, as you stood above the crowd.

Roy waved his hand, playfully mimicking a royal princess addressing his loyal subjects as he kept his arm on Jason.

Despite the noise around you, Jason kept his look at you.

Once Roy was done getting in his crowd pleasing, he spoke.

“Sweetheart, just ‘cause Usoro is leaving doesn’t mean we get cars tossed in from the dump. The position will just be empty until the next season begins. I can promise you we aren’t taking off our uniforms any time soon. I look too good with the words ‘Red Bull’ across my abs.” Roy cheekily grinned, toothpick in between his teeth.

Roy Harper. You thought.

One coquettish athlete was one thing, but two had the potential to test you.

“I hope to see those results, Mr. Harper.” You calmly smiled. You glanced back to Jason. “Thank you for answering my questions, Mr. Todd.”

You sat back in your chair, your badge displaying your name and company around your neck. The symbol recognizable to Jason, but he had reset to his usual coy responses before he did anything about it.

And the press conference continued as usual, the fans loving Jason, interviewers taken with him. They tried to trip him up like you had, but no one had pricked him as much as you did.

——

The chair you sat in was uncomfortable.

Luxurious restaurants had the weirdest looking furniture, twisted in odd shapes to make it more appealing to the rich.

The mood lighting set low to create a kind of intimacy most fancy restaurants aimed for.

Jason sat across from you, waiting on his dinner for the night.

“Thank you for meeting me today, Mr. Todd. The place you chose is…quaint.” You eyed the indoor waterfall and the huge chandelier.

“You should have ordered something, this place is known for its seafood.” Jason smiled, crossing his arms across his chest.

A much too expensive watch on his wrist, in too expensive clothes, in a too expensive restaurant.

Your outfit was formal, you thought it fit the atmosphere of the restaurant and you were only here for business. The contrast of the two of you looked like a boss and his employee from afar. Awkward and not on the same level of pay.

The salary of Formula 1 drivers would make any person look plain next to them.

“I shouldn’t because we’re here to discuss about you.” You plainly said, posture straight.

Jason stared at you, the shadows on his face chiseling out his features more than usual. Casually leaning into his chair.

“So, tell me, Mr. Todd—“ You formally started.

“Call me Jason.” He leaned his arms on the table, more of his face coming into the light, his wrist watch glistening in the warm light.

He probably has his own personal jeweler that shines his watch everyday. You judged internally, your left eyebrow raising. A nonverbal “really?” unconsciously stemming onto your face.

Jason’s smile growing wider at your reaction.

“Well…Jason,” You awkwardly corrected, face going back to neutral. “Our interaction last week has gained…interest. I’ve been told that your management is interested in us discussing another interview, just the two of us?” You picked up your glass of water, gently sipping.

Jason was weirdly silent, watching intently at your moves and words.

“Tell me about yourself.” You continued, gently laying your cup on the glass table. Placing your notebook next to it and a simple pen. The plain stationary complimenting your equally plain outfit.

“Jason Todd, F1 driver, signed onto Red Bull, haven’t changed since.” Jason’s food arrived. “The podium is practically my home, the stuff everyone knows. You could quickly Google all of that.”

You stayed quiet, mindlessly writing his quotes in your notebook. Not much effort put in your handwriting.

“But no one is interested in that.” Jason took a bite, glancing back at you as you stopped writing.

“Why not?”

“Okay, ‘lil reporter, let’s be real for a second. The reason why the internet wanted us to meet again is because of how we interacted.” Jason continued to eat. “You have no interest in me, despite your line of work.”

You put your pen down. Really listening.

“I may not be interested in your career, but I do have a passion in what I do.” You defended yourself, tone firm.

“I’m familiar with your work.” His nonchalance apparent in the way Jason sat. His voice leveled, none of the familiar coquettish attitude in front of you. The real Jason was sitting there.

“You are?” You stammer in confusion. You hadn’t expect his shift in demeanor or that he knew about you.

“Duh, that’s why I tried asking for your name last week, but someone thought it was cute to ignore me.” Jason sipped on his water.

Your mouth formed into a firm line.

You knew that there had to be another person underneath all the on screen charisma, but you didn’t expect to meet him at this dinner that was set up. Hell, you even expected getting cancelled by all his hardcore fans the next morning after the press conference.

“Look, I wasn’t interested because everyone knows you. You rightfully made a name for yourself and I had chosen another athlete to interview that day, but it was scrapped because the ‘great’ Jason Todd, shining beloved driver, had made a comeback after you had flopped for a short while.” You breathed, catching your breath.

Jason stopped eating, watching you look at the notebook on the table, a single sentence written on the blank page.

“Ouch, lil’ reporter.” Jason looked up from his plate, his eyes sparkling at something interesting he’s heard.

“I wanted to interview a woman changing athletics, but I had to drop everything to meet you at a press conference you were twenty minutes late to. So, yeah, I wasn’t overjoyed to meet you that day. I’m sorry if I was rude, you weren’t the one who rejected my story.” You slightly huffed, the most emotion you’ve shown Jason.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Jason enthusiastically put down his fork. “Finally some honesty, I was questioning whether you were a robot.”

“Huh?” You had expected Jason to be mad.

“Bad things happen, but we were told to put this together. So, forget the sports stats, let’s show them something a lil’ different.” Jason smiled, a genuine smile that didn’t look at you any differently after you vented out your frustrations about him.

“Like what? Get to know the real you?” You flatly said. “Sounds kinda cheesy.”

“I love to talk about myself, so why not?” Jason shrugged his shoulders.

You sighed.

“Okay—okay, let’s start with—“

“No, no, no.” Jason interrupted you. “Not here, hell no.”

“You chose this place, I thought this was what you wanted.” You questioned.

“The company chose this, I don’t like seafood.” Jason replied, blankly staring at you.

“What?!” You nearly yelled, self-consciously looking at the other tables, nodding an apology.

Jason laughed, truly laughed.

“Are you free tomorrow?” He asked, smile reaching his eyes.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You replied, lost in the development.

“Great, we’ll meet for dinner.”

——

You ended up outside of what appeared to be local restaurants, packed inside an outdoor lounge area, surrounded by furnished secan containers locking in the structure.

It was beautiful with the hanging string lights illuminating the seating area.

You looked in awe.

“You’re on time.” Jason’s voice rung on top of your head, behind you.

You turned around, surprised at the sudden silent appearance and the casual clothes he was in, no fancy watch, his clothes looked like normal department store ones, and his hair was messily down.

“Ten minutes late? That’s a new record.” You quipped.

“Ha!” Jason laughed. “I almost didn’t recognize you in casual clothes. You almost looked less robotic.”

Jason leaned down to give you a once over like he was evaluating your outfit.

“Quit it, I’m starving and whatever smell is coming from that side is changing my brain chemistry.”

Jason smiled, following behind as you led yourself by your nose.

“Holy shit.” You took a moment after your first bite.

“Woah, the robot cusses. What a scary lil’ reporter.” Jason teasingly shook his head, taking a bite after his teasing. “Holy fuck.”

“Right?!” You smiled, eyes squinting at your cheeks lifting.

Jason, lost in the food, chewed, taking in all the flavors.

“I could die in this moment and ask the paramedics to pass on my final wish, to thank the owner of the food truck over there.” You sipped your beer.

Jason stopped eating, pausing to look at you.

“What?” You questioned his stare.

“You actually have emotions.” Jason kept his face blank.

“Shut up, I would throw this at you if it didn’t change my taste buds.” You frowned.

Jason laughed. His shoulders shaking from the movement.

You noticed his smile was different. He had actual smile lines on his face, his eyebrows grew softer. It wasn’t the usual look he gave after his races.

“Is this what the incredible Jason Todd does when he isn’t wearing his Red Bull uniform?” You tried to casually prod into his life.

“How smooth,” Jason whistled, catching onto your nosiness. “I came here a lot with my brothers.”

“Wow, Wayne family lore.” You kept your eyes on your food, trying to deter the atmosphere away from the sad tone coming from Jason.

“Not the best history there.” Jason quietly spoke, picking at his food.

“A rich boy with family issues, I would have never guessed.” You smiled at him, playfully punching his shoulder. “I might be a reporter, but I respect boundaries. I don’t like the work of others that invade privacy for selfish reasons, bombard children of celebrities, and other awful reasons. So, trauma dump or not.” You smirked.

“Wow, lil’ reporter is all grown up.” Jason dramatically wiped the corner of his eye, wiping nonexistent tears.

“Never mind, I already know the title of the article.” You flatly said. “Rich, charismatic—“

“Aren’t you a charmer—“

“Pain in the ass, reckless, thorn in my side—“ You continued.

“Okay, alright, that’s enough, I get it.” Jason smiled, despite the harsh words.

You raised your left eyebrow, not fully convinced.

Jason used his thumb to rub your eyebrow back to its normal spot, you closed your eyes, moving your head away from his playful harsh rubs.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get there.” Jason reassured. “You’ll get my all my issues, the one time I was mugged, the reason why I don’t drink, and all my kinks.”

“What?!” You shrieked, Jason laughing at your reaction.

“I’m kidding, I was never mugged.”

You threw your dirty napkin at Jason.

——

After the fulfilling dinner, you got Jason’s number, set another date for a lunch, and you were happy.

It had been a while since you had time to enjoy a meal, no work blurring into your off time.

You could never admit to Jason that these meals felt like dinners with friends, not work at all.

Jason had suggested that you choose a spot. You decided on ice cream, not a lunch spot or a decent meal to talk over, but he didn’t complain.

You sent a location to him for a spot near the harbor.

You met each other, the weather getting colder after the F1 season was over and the new norm of adding a jacket to your daily clothing.

It felt idiotic to get ice cream in cold weather, but it was too late to change now.

Jason came five minutes late this time.

“You’re getting better!” You yelled between your cold hands. “Almost brought a smile to my face!”

You fought a smile as you saw Jason jog to your waiting spot.

“I couldn’t let my lil’ reporter wait too long in this cold weather.” Jason’s breaths fogged around him as he caught his breath. Teasing your cheeks into a slight blush, but maybe that was the cold weather.

You put your hands back into your pockets, trying to keep any warmth in them.

“Let’s go, before the ice cream melts.” You joked, walking away from Jason.

“Why ice cream?” He questioned, catching up to your side.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Don’t you get those cravings for hot chocolate in summer and ice cream in winter?”

“No, only robots think that.” Jason smiled.

You swung to punch his shoulder. Jason didn’t even bother dodging, taking the hit with the biggest grin on his face.

“I’m glad this isn’t a live interview again because if I wasn’t cancelled for giving attitude to you at the press conference, then your fangirls and boys would berate me after this.” You spoke, ears red.

“They wouldn’t do that. They just love trying to get me in as many love scandals as possible.” Jason rubbed the edge of your ear with his fingers, they felt warm to the touch. “Been a running joke for a while. Last week they thought I was dating a valet guy and previously they thought it was a some lady at the auto shop.”

“Does that explain the edits of you with some taco stand guy?” You smirked.

“Aw, you looked me up.” Jason cooed.

“Alright, that’s enough.” You laughed as you walked into the ice cream parlor. The two of you walking in and a pair of teenagers sat alone in the shop.

“One scoop of strawberry please.” You asked the teen worker, you looked at Jason, silently asking for his order.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? Do I get the pleasure of you treating me to ice cream?” He teased.

“Just order.” You told him, feigning frustration.

“Banana split please.” Jason excitedly told the worker.

“Wow, really taking advantage of me.” You pulled out your card.

Jason pulled out a twenty dollar bill from his wallet, placing it in the tip jar.

You smiled to yourself.

As you sat with your sweet treats, Jason was devouring the ice cream.

“Y’know, now I get why you get this craving.” Jason scooped another bite in his mouth.

“No more robot talk from now on.” You eyed him.

“Sorry about that. I just wanted you to act like yourself. You look better like that.” Jason mindlessly played with the left over ice cream at the bottom of his plastic tray, a small smile forming on his face. “People getting angry at me turns me on.” Jason smirked, his coquettish personality coming back, but it didn’t annoy you as much as it did before.

You choked on your ice cream, the realization to his words in your eyes. You looked back at the other teenagers in the shop, they were in their own world, not paying attention to you.

“Relax, they don’t care about us.” Jason laughed.

You glanced back at him, weighing the thoughts on your next words.

“I bet my praise would be more effective.” You scooped your last bit of ice cream, finishing it.

Jason’s laughed boomed in front of you. He was smiling like a little kid, it lightened your heart.

“I never know what comes out of that pretty mouth.” He couldn’t stop laughing.

Your ears reddened at his words.

You nervously played with your spoon.

Words. Yes, they were just words. No need to overreact.

“Wanna walk by the harbor? I think I need to walk off all this sugar.” You asked Jason, getting up to throw away your empty cup.

The air outside was freezing, but your ears burned.

[adisillusionedauthor]

Could you do fic for Checo with wife reader where she's Max's older sister and she just worried for them because of how the races could turned badly in a matter of second? Add something you'd like though. Thanks! :)

Fearful Velocity - Sergio Pérez and Max Verstappen

Requested by: Anon

Masterlist<3

Pairing: Checo x spouse!GN!reader, Max x Sibling!reader

Warning: OOC Checo, OOC Max, fluff, sweet, concern about loved ones, Max being a sweetie, Checo being a sweetie and bad english

Word count: 713

The team always tries to make everything very comfortable for me when I go see the races in person, being the married and related to their drivers I get some sort of princess treatment, but it somehow doesn’t help the aching feeling that something is going to happen, I shake the thought off of my head once i realize Checo is walking towards me, I start to smile at him opening my arms for him, hoping he’d hug me. 

Of course he obliges and pulls me into a tight hug, since I’m sitting down my head rests comfortably on his chest and he rests his on top of my head, not before giving the top of head a kiss: “You’ve got that look on your face…” He says into my hair softly, I let out a sigh, nothing happens to me without this man noticing: “Is it the usual?” He asks with a knowing look on his face, I’ve shared my concerns with him, even asked him to retire once Sebastian said he’d be leaving F1, but it didn’t work, he wants to race longer; “Yup… It’s like this every weekend that there’s a race, but this time… It feels different, like something is going to happen…” I say, sharing this strange feeling makes my chest somehow feel lighter, Sergio pulls me even closer if that’s even possible, but before he could say something we could hear my younger brother’s voice saying “Ew!” from behind him, Checo turns with an more serious look which makes Max realize I’m worrying over them again.

He comes hug me for a while on Checo’s place while he goes get ready for today, Max keeps telling me that serious accidents barely ever happen, that there’s no need for me to get so stressed over this, today is supposed to be a day where I can take a breath and see my boys enjoy themselves on the track and he’s right, it feels weird even thinking about this: “I’m sorry for worrying so much, it’s just… I still see you as that boy who still raced in a kart, it’s weird seeing the little boy I held in my arms accomplish so much… I’m proud of you Max, truly proud” I say smiling at him proudly, in my heart he’ll always that baby my parents brought home when I was still two, he’ll always be my little brother, no matter how many championships he wins or how many podiums he gets: “Don’t you dare say stuff that’ll make me tear up right before a race, I can’t cry now, Y/N” He says while his eyes get glossy with tears, i hug him even closer and then Checo comes back to get Max to get ready for the race: “So… Feeling better about today, mi amor?” He knows that nickname is my doom, I melt into his arms as his fingers run into my hair soothing me even more: “You’re a very unfair man, Mr. Pérez…” I say resting my head onto his shoulder and he laughs gently: “Oh really? Or maybe I just know exactly what I need to do to calm my wife, Mrs. Pérez.”

I blush softly at his words, I’ve been his wife for four years, but everytime he calls me that I feel like I did on our first date, my smile turns even more soft and I answer him: “Maybe… But just maybe, you’ve helped a lot, darling” He smiles back at me happy that he could help me feel a little more safe about him and my brother racing, he gives me three kissed like he always does when he’s about to go race, one on  my forehead promising to keep me on his mind during the race, one on my cheek promising to never let me go and finally one on my lips promising to always love me, I kiss him back showing just as much love as he is into the kiss, when Max comes to call him so they can enter the car and go to the line up, I don’t feel as anxious as I did on the beginning of the day, because I know that they’ll both be okay and if something does happen they’ll have me to take care of them and nurse them back into healthiness just so i can scold them. 

[miyamizuna]

How about sweet Tadashi Yamaguchi? He's current concern is that all cute girls that come over to talk always just want to talk about Tsukki... How about some girl finally changes it?

OMG OMGOMG I LOVE HIS CURRENT CONCERN ITS SO CUTE.

this isnt exactly hcs.. i jus thought this would be such a cute mini fic

wait… YOU MEAN ME?

ft. yamaguchi tadashi w.c: 689 warnings: literally none just fluff also female reader

Yamaguchi Tadashi, many words can be used to describe him; shy, unconfident, and the boy who's always with Tsukishima. It's because of this unconfident nature that caused him to always think that every girl to come up to him does not want to talk to him, but rather Tsukishima. His theory was proved right after girls only wondered where to find Tsukishima. Perhaps he wished it was the other way around; that girls would talk to him instead of Tsuki, maybe even girls talking about himself to Tsuki.

"Um, excuse me!" a voice calls out to Yamaguchi as he stops in his tracks down the hallway. The voice was one of a girl. Taking that into consideration, he used his usual reply;

"Tsukishima is in the library," he stated as he turned around to greet the voice that called out to him.

His eyes meet one of a very pretty girl as he feels his face getting flustered. Yup, this girl is definitely looking for Tsuki he thinks as he continues to look at her.

"huh? Why would I be looking for Tsukishima?" The girl tilts her head in confusion as she looks at him with a questioning look. 

"O-Oh I'm sorry! Is there anything you need?" He replies with a stutter as his. "...Or did you even need anything?" he adds to his previous question out of clear nervousness.

The girl just simply smiled at him, she played with the hem of her skirt with her left hand; her nervousness clear as day.

“Well, I suppose you could say I needed something from you.” she then averts her eyes, from his, as a rose-tinted blush appeared amongst her cheeks. “ I would like to get to know you better.”

Yamaguchi is taken aback by her statement. What girl would want to get to know more about him? Isn’t Tsukishima the interesting one between the two of them? He knew his whole thought process surrounding girls stemmed from his self-confidence issues. Even on the volleyball team. He is the only one of the 1st years who isn’t a starting member. How can someone like him be appealing to a girl?

“Hey! Are you okay..?” The girl says now placing a hand on his cheek to feel his temperature. “Oh no! You’re burning up.” she lets out as her face softens into a worry. 

How long had he spaced out? Did he completely short-circuit? Did he say someone he wasn’t supposed to say?

“I-I’m fine!” he manages to get out after his mini panic. Just then the girl takes her hand off of his cheek and sighs in relief.

“I’m glad that you’re okay! You had me worried for a bit!” she tells him, expressing her worry in her tone of voice. “Oh! I should tell you my name! I’m (l/n) (y/n).” she with her cheeks still rose-tinted, extended her hand out to him as a gesture of a handshake. 

Yamaguchi looks at her hand and then softly smiles and accepts her handshake, relaxing his tense posture for once. “Nice to meet you (l/n), I’m Yamaguchi Tadashi.” 

As the handshake ends, it leaves the two of them steering at eachother for a time. Both seem lost in eachothers eyes. It’s almost as (y/n) can count the freckles on his face, and for yamaguchi, it’s almost like the attention of a girl is foreign to him. 

“(y/n)! Are you coming?” Another girl’s voice called out to (y/n) breaking the silence between the two of them causing (y/n) to jump. 

“O-Oh! Uh! I’m coming!” She replies as she bows to Yamaguchi as a sign of respect. “I-I have to go now. I’ll see you around!” with that, she's off in a flash. 

Yamaguchi wonders if that just happened. He’s not dreaming, is he? Did he truly just talk to a girl who wasn’t looking for Tsuki, rather she wanted to get to know him? He smiles over this mini-victory as he finally gets a cute girl to talk to him. Maybe this was the boost to his self-confidence that was greatly needed.

©miyamizuna 2024

[duskspring]

Chores and a Show - Copia/GN!Reader fic

Domestic December - Day 2

Summary: You help Copia with his paints before a ritual

Content (do let me know if I forgot anything!): Google translate Italian as per fandom tradition, some insecurity on Copia’s side but it’s all ok in the end

Word count: ~1.7k

“Stop being so squeamish." You said to Copia, trying to sound gentle and not make him feel bad. He could be extra sensitive before a ritual, but you’d already told him to settle down twice.

"It's not my fault you tickle me, amore."

You playfully scoffed, trying to resume getting him ready. You added some black onto the brush.

"Close your eyes for me.” When he did, you started dragging the colored hairs over his eyelids and the surrounding area.

You were laser focused. Copia deserved nothing but perfection.

You startled the brush back slightly when he put his hands on your hips. You'd been straddling his lap the whole time to get as close as possible, but he’d kept his hands down up to this point.

"Copia." You say in fun-loving warning as you color his other eyelid.

"I'm behaving." He claimed, though he smirked like he had more up his sleeve.

When you moved to add a second layer, his hands dipped a little lower to your rear.

"Preshow's already on, we don't have forever.” You reminded him.

“All the more reason to enjoy your company while I can.” You had to pull back again when he smiled, not being able to work if his eyes were crinkled up.

Stopping for a moment did give you the chance to take a good look at his face. His freckles and any blemishes you usually loved mapping out were already covered up with white, but his wrinkles, the proof of his fast life experience and wiseness were still visible clearly enough for you to admire. Not that you’d admit to that, knowing Copia didn’t like them being pointed out.

“Does it look ok?” He noticed your staring, taking it to mean something was wrong. His voice sounded so small, almost childlike.

Your expression softened further, but still you took the chance to tease him a bit, “It will, as soon as you let me do my job.”

He chuckled briefly, trying to get his worries out, before straightening his face. His hands dutifully moved back to your hips.

The rest of the work went well. You’d gotten plenty of time to practise back at the abbey. Doing this for him was just another way for you to prove your devotion to him and try to help him out any way you could. He, in return, appreciated your perfectionism in the act, always insisting on starting over if it wasn’t just right.

He would never understand just how hard it was for you, however. He was still shirtless, apart from his suspenders you couldn’t believe he could wear against his bare skin. He looked good enough to eat. Though the only person you had to blame for that distraction was yourself. You were the one encouraging him to not be in costume yet when you painted his face. You had faith in your skill but the last thing you wanted would be to accidentally stain that beautiful military style jacket of his.

You took a steady breath, before holding it in. You refused to allow yourself to mess up the thin lines on the sides of his face.

Copia would love nothing more than to cheer you on or tell you something to calm your nerves, but it was his job right now to remain still.

You pulled back after the second line was done, letting out a big sigh of relief after having not messed it up.

“Stay very still.” You told him next, angling his head a little further back.

He wasn’t sure what you were gonna do, but he would never question your process. Not after your flawless track record. Because it was you.

You were shaking slightly, the small adrenaline rush you always got catching up with you. Still, you smiled. You smiled at the man that made everyday just a little better. A man that you knew would go through hardship and hell to make you happy. He was everything, with or without the paint, because it was him.

You lean in closer, his hold on your hips instinctively tightening to help keep you steady. You press your lips to his. They were the only part of him still unpainted.

Still, you kiss him softly, not wanting to blemish the surrounding paint. Copia sits up the slightest bit, trying to follow you when you pull back with a self satisfied look on your face.

“Almost there, love.” It was a matter of coloring his lips and you’d be done at last.

Still you didn’t allow yourself to slack in that department. You couldn’t speak for the rest of his audience, but you certainly enjoyed looking at his lips a lot, so they too had to look pristine.

You wished you could stay and look at him for another few hours, but a quick glance at the clock revealed the disappointing need to start wrapping it up.

You patted his hands on your hips, “Up we go.” You smiled, standing up and quickly stretching you back as Copia followed you.

As soon as you straightened your posture he stepped closer to you and put his gloved hands on your cheeks, “I would kiss you again if I could. Thank you so much, amato mio.”

You lean your head sideways into his hold, “No need you thank me at all. I love getting to do this for you.” As a last sign of affection before having to move on, you turned your head a little to kiss his palm.

You stepped away to the clothing rack that stood against the walls. All of his costumes for the night were hung up in order, ready for his quick in between costume changes. You grabbed the one on the end of the rack, the previously mentioned beautiful military style suit. It gave Copia an edge, a sense of authority he deserved as Papa.

When you faced him again, he looked the part as well. It was like watching an actor morph into character; he stood up straighter, exuding an air of confidence that suited him so well.

You took the jacket off the hanger and held it up. He obediently held his arms out without having to be asked. You helped him into the garment, closing it quickly, but with care.

After that he knew to sit in front of the vanity, you coming up behind him to brush his hair back. You loved getting to make his hair look all neat to then see it get progressively more messy throughout the night. As much as you loved watching Copia all dolled up, it was even better to see him let loose and have fun. It was clear as day that the stage was where he was at his most comfortable.

You looked away from his hair for just a moment, noticing how he looked at your reflection in the mirror, the slightest of smiles on his face. You knew exactly what he was thinking.

“I love you too.” The words left you oh so delicately. He needed to know you weren’t just saying it to say it.

“Ti amo più di ogni altra cosa.” More than anything. It was far from his first love declaration but this one, right in all the chaos before the show, somehow felt like the most meaningful one you’d ever heard.

A frantic knock interrupted the sentiment, “You’re on in five!”

You sighed, excited to see Copia perform again but upset your time together was so rushed. You leaned down and very delicately placed a kiss on his neatly brushed back hair.

“Go get ‘em.” You winked at him through the mirror.

He got up, examined his full reflection before finally turning to face you again.

"How do I look?" He already looked confident as can be, but still he asked you that same question before every show, as if you wouldn’t always respond the exact same way.

You stepped closer, putting your hands on his chest, "Like the most beautiful man I've ever seen."

His confident look softened. He wished so badly to kiss you, but knew his paints would mess up from it and your hard work had to be admired on stage for all to see. Instead he brushed his hand over your hair.

“I will look for you in the crowd.” He promised.

You pulled back, already grabbing your bag and making your way there, “Remember, I’m on the left balcony.” You didn’t really jive well with big crowds. As much as you’d miss seeing Copia up close, you were happy you got a spot in the VIP camp. Less people, but still a good overview of the stage.

The next few minutes we’re a bit of a blur as you had to rush to make it up there on time. You only hoped Copia could take it a bit easier.

You knew he was nervous, he always was. But as soon as the white screen fell down to reveal the band the energy in the room was electric.

He had such a way about him, capturing all eyes in the room with his strong voice, silly dance moves and sometimes eyebrow raising words in between songs.

And he made sure to keep his promise, looking over in your direction multiple times. It was clear to you that he didn’t truly see you at first. But when he did, he made sure you knew. He waved his arm in a gesture towards you and you immediately understood he’d found you.

It was almost an art, making you feel like the only person in a fully packed arena. As if all those songs were especially for you even when he interacted with the crowd and wasn’t actively engaging you.

You’d probably never get the full scope of it, but when Copia was up on that stage, he was there for you. At least in spirit. He thought of you the whole time. Your unwavering faith in him calmed his nerves and the prospect of you telling him how great he did, like you always told him after performances, served as a driving force to do even better than last time.

He needed you, in that way. He wanted you. He could never imagine doing this without you.

He loved you, as wholly as you loved him.

[My Main Masterlist | Domestic December Masterlist]

[icecream-and-gadreel]

Handle Me(NSFW)

Summary: Castiel owns an upscale apartment with his family. When Dean, a handsome new tenant, moves in, Castiel's (slightly creepy) social media digging leads him to Dean's only fans page. 

Pairing: Top!Castiel/Bottom!Dean, Gunner, Gabriel

Rating: NSFW (Read it in the breakroom!)

Warnings:  Unprotected sex, language, rough sex, jealous!Castiel, slight dirty talk, size kink,  a brief altercation

Specific warning: WARNING: This fic describes a panic attack; if that will trigger you, please do not read it! The method of dealing with this panic attack in this fic is NOT a method that would work for everyone (I just thought I'd mention that)

Word count: 8000+ (weoooo)

A/N: Guess who's back with a brand new track! Seriously, this shit took me a year to write. Lmao, enjoy!

Eternity squad: @mrswhozeewhatsis​, @sheinthatfandom​ (The eternity squad is open! Shoot me an ask to join in and get tagged in all of my fics!)

Castiel

"Gabriel," Castiel growls, banging on the bathroom door. "It's your turn to make rounds!" he says, slumping against the door. Nothing. He knocks once more, flinching as, finally, the door flies open. Gabriel stares at him with a sunken face, his bathrobe snugly wrapped around his form.

"Come on, Cassy, you know I can't function this early in the morning," Gabriel coos, batting his eyelashes.

"You're acting like that's my problem," he grumbles. They stare at each other silently for many moments before Gabriel slams the door shut. Huffing, Castiel makes his way into the lobby, pinching the bridge of his nose. Running an apartment building is far more work than it sounds. Granted, it always seemed like a lot of work, but Castiel's family tried to convince him otherwise. As he passes, he snatches the clipboard off the front desk, pulling the pen from it as he makes his way to the elevator. He rapidly presses the up button, grumbling under his breath as the old elevator rattles. "God, I hate this place." He continues grumbling as he steps into the elevator, eyes running down the laundry list of tasks on the clipboard.

"Hey – hold it!" a gruff voice calls, making Castiel stiffen. He wedges his foot between the doors just before they shut, and his jaw damn near hits the ground as a man jogs toward him. Behind a stack of boxes is the most handsome face he's ever seen. Wide, green eyes, a chiseled jawline, and a gorgeous smile. Castiel sucks in an inadvertent breath, fighting to say anything as the man settles beside him.

"Floor," Castiel blurts, gaining a furrowed brow from the other man. "What...floor?"

"Oh – sorry, 13," the man says, a soft smile on his face. Castiel presses thirteen, trying to remember how to speak to another human being. Just as his brain begins to function again, the smell of warm cologne fills the elevator.

"What are you wearing?" Castiel asks, gaining another puzzled look from the man. Before Castiel can reclaim dignity, the stranger is doubled over in laughter. "Cologne," he adds in a helium-high voice.

"Bleu Chanel," the man answers, trying to stifle his laughter.

"Oh. I like it," Castiel mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. Curse this slow, god-damned elevator. "I'm Castiel."

"Dean," he says, releasing his hand from beneath the boxes and offering it to him. Castiel takes his hand, frowning.

"...Winchester?" he asks, gaining a furrowed brow from the other man. "I'm not creepy," he adds, rigorously shaking Dean's hand and clamping his mouth shut. After many moments of silence, Dean lets out another hearty laugh, his head dropping.

"I think some context would help you out here, buddy."

"Oh – shit – um –" Castiel shows Dean his clipboard – "I'm one of your landlords. I heard about you yesterday."

"Damn, and here I thought I had a new stalker," he teases.

"Sorry to disappoint, Dean," Castiel retorts, gaining even more laughter. Finally, the elevator dings. Dean steps off, giving the other man a nod before walking down the hall. Castiel can't help but stare as he does, noting how his clothes strain against his muscled frame. "I'm a moron," the landlord whispers, leaning his head against the wall. He sits there for a while, tilting his head up when he realizes the elevator isn't moving. Right, he never even picked his own floor.

…....

The last few hours have been a daze. All of Castiel's embarrassing, fumbling words replay in his mind on repeat, and all he wants to do is crawl into a hole and die. He curses his stupid brain as he knocks on door 1208, flipping through the pages on his clipboard. Claire cracks open the door just wide enough so that her head can peek out, a blank expression on her face.

"It's the first of the month!" Castiel says, trying to put on a chipper tone.

"Whaddya want?" Claire grumbles, rubbing a hand over her eye.

"Well, rent's due," he replies with a forced smile.

"I just paid you last month!"

"I thought it was common knowledge that rent is due every month," Castiel says, gaining a deep-set glare from his tenant. She lets out a long groan, rolling her eyes.

"You're annoying. Tomorrow, I get paid," Claire says.

"Thanks! We appreciate your continued –" she slams the door in his face – "Patronage," he adds in a near whisper. Castiel treks back to the elevator, going over his checklist once more. Only one floor left. He presses 13, a zip of electricity going up his spine as memories from earlier flood his brain. God damn, he's never met someone so handsome before. At the very least, he could try and befriend Dean. He knocks on door 1320, shaking away the intrusive thoughts.

"Benny, it's the first of the month –" Castiel's words divulge into a flurry of stuttered utterances as his eyes lock on Dean. He stands in a wife-beater with loose sweatpants falling around his waist. Castiel looks at the door number, cursing to himself. 1318. "Hello again." The Winchester smiles down at him, cocking an eyebrow.

"Hey. Who's Benny?" he asks, a chuckle in his throat.

"Not you...wrong door," Castiel squeaks, turning away as heat rises to his cheeks. Sucking in a breath, Castiel turns back to Dean, clearing his throat. "I'm not always this awkward."

"Is that right?" Dean asks, pursing his lips.

"Yeah," he concurs, nodding. "You just flustered me, but I can be quite sociable when I'm not nervous," Castiel adds. Dean nods, looking Castiel up and down.

"I'll hold you to that, Cas."

–

"You're kinda weirding me out," Gabriel says as he locks up the drawer next to Castiel.

Hell, he's creeping himself out.

He's only known Dean for a few days, but he can't get him out of his mind. He's read Dean's application forms over and over, looked at his Facebook all the way back to 2015, and now he's checking to see if he's still on Myspace. "I've never seen someone that attractive," he groans, smiling when he finds another social media. "Of course, Twitter," he coos. Like all of his other profiles, Dean hardly has anyone following him, with five or ten likes on each post.

"How about asking him out instead of being a creeper?" Gabriel grumbles, tucking the keys into his pocket.

"Not everyone's as forward as you," Castiel says as he stands from the desk. Gabriel shrugs, checking his watch.

"Put his file back and lock up. We can't afford to get robbed again."

"Of course." Castiel watches as his brother leaves, tucking away the file as he continues scrolling down Dean's Twitter. He pauses on a shirtless picture of the Winchester, letting out a short whistle. He continues browsing as he returns to his apartment, his eyes locking on a specific comment under one of his posts.

Maddiebub: 'OMG is this you?!'

Impa69: 'Ha no!'

Castiel frowns, clicking on the link. "Onlyfans?" He speaks slowly, his frown deepening. He quickly gets into his apartment, his eyes never leaving his phone as he moves toward his bedroom. He clicks on the link and plops down on his bed, his eyes scanning over the page as it loads.

The first thing he sees is a masked, shirtless man with his hands behind his head. 'Anonymous43', five thousand subscribers. He stands from the bed, tossing his phone and heading to his desk. Turning on his laptop, he types in the Onlyfans address once more. Castiel tilts his head, staring at the muscled body lining the banner. It couldn't really be him...could it? No, there's no way! He chuckles, grabbing his wallet and pulling out a credit card. There's no way.

Ten dollars later, his computer screen is flooded with a faceless man in various provocative poses, some nude, some not. The videos are silent, adding to his anonymous flare. "Woah," Castiel squeaks as he lands on another video. The man slowly strokes his thick shaft, a black butt plug visible between his thighs. "Ooh..." Castiel breathes, his cock twitching at the sight of it. His eyes glide over the mystery man's freckled skin, and he fights the urge to grip his cock, continuing to scroll down the page. His eyes widen as a 'Weekly live stream now live!' notification pops up on his screen. Castiel's heart beats faster in his chest, his jaw clenching as he takes a dry gulp.

Hell, even if it isn't Dean, this guy is hot. He clicks on the notification, searching the empty room on his screen. Typical enough, a bed pressed against the wall, a fancy gamer chair. An array of dildos and butt plugs sits on the desk, making Castiel's face flush red. The boxer-clad lower half of Anonymous43 walks into the frame, waving at the audience with one hand behind his back. Castiel flinches as a comically large dildo is suctioned onto the table next to the already impressive collection, his cock twitching once more. "Will that even fit?" he breathes, a zip of excitement rushing up his spine at the prospect of finding out.

Anonymous pulls his boxers down his thighs, tossing them aside before rubbing his length. Castiel stares in awe as the man's cock grows, excitement buzzing at his skin. Finally, the man sinks into his seat, his face still cut off and his throbbing cock in full view. Castiel tilts his head as if he could will the camera to pan up to the man's face. Finally, Anonymous speaks.

"How's it hangin', fellas?" he asks, voice gruff and low. He pauses for a moment, chuckling. "My camera's fucked up again? Hold on..." He begins fiddling with his camera, panning it up until –

Castiel slams his laptop shut, heart pounding against his chest. There's no fucking way. He stares around his room, feeling like he's just been caught doing something he shouldn't have. After many moments of silent panicking, he slowly opens his laptop, fingers drumming against his desk as it goes from black back to the Onlyfans page. 'Join Livestream' is plastered across the screen, and he nods to himself, clicking on it once more.

Castiel stares at the screen slack-jawed, his eyes searching the screen wildly. "Dean?" he says, an inadvertent moan escaping him as Dean begins stroking his cock. Castiel tries to soak in everything all at once, finally focusing on those green eyes. Those same eyes that made his breath hitch only days ago. He tears his eyes away from the screen, pinching the bridge of his nose. Something about this feels...wrong. Like he's peeping through his neighbor's blinds or spying on a friend in the shower. It feels grimy, somehow. Yes, he paid, and yes, Dean is doing this willingly. But it still feels wrong. Castiel begins to click out of the live stream, pausing when Dean starts to speak.

"Gimme a break. I'm still tryna figure out all this computer crap," Dean says, adjusting his camera. "Oh, some asshole keeps posting links to my account on my Twitter, so I gotta change the name again." Castiel sucks his teeth, leaning back in his seat. Dean begins stroking his cock once more, letting out a soft moan. "I'm really horny, so – you gotta deal with the crooked camera for now, ok?"

Castiel's cock twitches again, and he groans, swiping a hand over his face. "Forgive me, Dean," he whispers, looking around his room before turning up the volume.

"Alright, guys, it's about that time," Dean grunts, his voice hushed and teasing. Castiel rubs a hand over his growing bulge, leaning closer to the monitor. "If you wanna help me play with my toys, start donating. Everyone else is getting kicked out," he says. Castiel damned near jumps out of his chair, diving for his wallet and pulling out his debit card. "Don't get shy on me now. You don't wanna miss this," Dean purrs.

"Damn right, I don't," Castiel grumbles, quickly entering his card details. He hits the donate button, sighing in relief.

Dean pauses his hand, leaning forward and squinting. “User45347?” He says, chuckling to himself. "You gotta change that, man. Thanks for the donation."

"You're welcome, Dean," Castiel says. Pausing, Castiel frowns. Is it weird to respond? He can't even hear him. He stares at the replies going across Dean's screen, smacking himself on the forehead. Leave a comment. Just as he goes to click on the 'reply' box, Dean is standing from his seat, hand still stroking his cock as he goes for a bottle of lube.

"Now that we're alone... let's get to it," Dean says. He squeezes a dollop of lube into his hand, clearing his throat. "I really, really wanna try my big boy tonight –" Dean leans forward, resting his elbow on his desk – "But if you've stopped by before, you know I never get too far with that one," He pushes a lubed finger into his hole, a hushed moan escaping him. Castiel leans even closer to the monitor in an attempt to hear better. Fuck, what he wouldn't do to have him moaning in his ear. Dean pants softly as he pumps his fingers into himself, closing his eyes as he gets lost in the rhythm. Slowly zipping down his fly, Castiel watches intently, pulling his pulsing cock out of his pants with a moan. "So, whaddya wanna see in me?" he asks. "Besides your own dick," he adds teasingly. Castiel watches as the comments flood in, using his free hand to add his request. After reading through some of the comments, Dean grabs a green dildo, slowly slipping his tongue around the tip of it. It's no bigger than four inches, but the curve at the end is sure to reach Dean's spot, Castiel thinks.

"Holy shit," Castiel whispers, a smile stretching across his face. He begins stroking his cock, guttural moans escaping him as he watches Dean suck on the small dildo. On the other end, Dean turns away from his camera, straddling his chair and poking his ass out, looking over his shoulder. The Winchester spreads his plump cheeks apart, slowly sinking the dildo into his tight hole with a long, guttural moan.

"Ngh...good choice," he says as he begins to pump the dildo inside of himself. An array of soft, mewling moans falls from Dean over and over, his cock twitching with every slow thrust of the dildo. "Keep moaning for me," Castiel breathes. He uses his free hand to type, biting his lip between his teeth as Dean continues his slow pace.

User45347: What a view...

Dean chokes out a laugh, going back to his moaning moments later. "I'm glad you like it."

Castiel closes his eyes, his mind filled with images of Dean bent over before him, taking every inch of his throbbing cock. He'd be slow at first, letting Dean adjust to his size, but by the end, he'd be unrelenting. Castiel massages his balls, giving his cock rough strokes as his edge quickly approaches. "Dean, you feel amazing," he groans, throwing his head back.

"Fuck that's good," Dean breathes, his voice getting caught in his throat.

"Come for me, baby," Castiel hisses, finally opening his eyes. Dean is fucking himself with quick, short thrusts, his other hand jacking off his cock in sync with his rhythm. His look is pure ecstasy, his cheeks flushed, and his mouth gaped as he reaches his edge. Castiel comes moments later, moaning far louder than he intended to, his body arching out of the chair as hot strips of come coat his shirt. Castiel stares up at the ceiling in the afterglow of his orgasm, eyes shifting wildly. "Wow," he whispers, resting a hand on his forehead.

Dean slowly eases the dildo out of his ass, his head lulling back as he takes short, rapid breaths. "As fun as that was, I'm lookin' for a real challenge."  

–

Dean 

"Son of a bitch," he hisses as he limps down the hall. He definitely overdid it last night, but he's never been one to back down from a challenge! Despite all this pain, he still hasn't gotten to his giant toy yet. Dean grumbles to himself, rubbing his butt with a pout. A door opens a few feet away, making him flinch his hand away and straighten up. He nods at his new neighbor, trying to walk like a regular person.

"Hey!"

Dean whirls around to the source of the voice, staring down at the brown-haired man. After a few moments, Dean gives him a little wave, twitching a smile. "Hey?" he responds, flinching as the man holds up a flyer. Something about an apartment-wide get-together decorated with sparkles and crudely drawn desserts. "Ah..."

"You're Dean, right?" he asks. Dean's heart clinches in his chest, and he slowly nods, taking down a dry gulp. "I'm Gabriel. I'm the one who accepted your application, sugar!"

"Oh!" Dean holds a hand over his heart, chuckling. "You and Cas know how to bury the lead, huh?" he adds through laughter. Gabriel grins, shrugging.

"It runs in the family, I guess," he says as he offers Dean the flyer again. "This is for all the new kids on the block. A little 'get to know who to avoid and who to nod at in the hallway' type of thing."

"Sounds like my kinda party. You supply the beer?" Dean asks, grabbing the flyer.

"All the lukewarm beer your little heart can handle," he coos, gaining a hearty laugh from Dean.

"Will Cas be there?" he mumbles as he reads. After many moments of silence, he looks up, frowning at the strange smile on Gabriel's face. "What?"

"He'll be there all alone, sweetpea."

"... ok?" Dean says. Gabriel shoots him a wink before damn near skipping down the hall, leaving Dean with more questions than answers. He chuckles to himself as memories of Castiel flood his brain. God, he's a weirdo. But in a good way. 

–

Castiel

"Thanks again, man," Dean says, running his fingers through his sweat-slicked hair. Castiel grunts in response, trying to stop his legs from wobbling as he holds up the flat-screen TV.

"What are friends for?" he says through gritted teeth, sucking in a deep breath and lifting his side of the TV. Dean pushes the elevator button, shooting the other man an apologetic look. Dean smells of expensive cologne, even though they've been putting his apartment together all afternoon.

Castiel's mind trails back to memories of the live stream, his eyes flicking to Dean's plump rear. He never got to his largest toy. The biggest he could take was a mildly girthy seven-inch vibrator. But after a week of waiting, Castiel can finally watch Dean attempt his other toys again. As Castiel's mind begins to wander back to the other night, his grip on the TV slips. "Shit!" Before he can adequately react, another set of hands grabs the TV, a hearty laugh filling the air. Gunner raises to his full height, shaking his head at Castiel.

"Clumsy per usual," Gunner says, tssking his landlord.

"You're home early," Castiel says, stretching his back with a groan.

"I got eliminated earlier than I hoped," Gunner says. Both men turn to Dean as he lets out an excited noise, his eyes wide and twinkling.

"Holy shit," Dean breathes. Gunner smiles slickly, tilting his head. The elevator doors finally slide open, and all three men squeeze into the space.

"Do you know each other?" Castiel asks, looking between them both.

"Yeah – well, no, I'm just a fan..." Dean's voice begins to trail away as Gunner laughs, an awestruck look on his face.

"It's not often my fans are as handsome as you, so I'm honored," he says, winking. Dean lets out a light, fluttering laugh, trying to keep himself steady.

"I'm Dean."

"You new here, Dean?"

"As of last week, yeah," Dean says, pressing 13. Castiel clears his throat, rubbing the back of his head.

"Anyways –"

"You're on thirteen, too?" Gunner cuts in, making Castiel clamp his mouth shut. "Small world."

"Yeah, come borrow sugar anytime," Dean blurts, flicking his eyes to the ground. "'Or whatever," he adds, gaining a hum from Gunner. Castiel laughs awkwardly, resting his hands on his hips.

"I'm gonna hold you to that," Gunner rasps. His voice is deeper than usual, his eyes hooded, and he has a gentle smile on his face. His smug, handsome, annoying face. He's never looked so punchable.

When they finally reach the thirteenth floor, Castiel holds the doors open for the other men, watching as they quickly make their way down the hall.

Dean laughs at something Castiel can't hear, pausing when he notices his landlord isn't following. "You still want that beer, Cas?" Dean yells. Castiel observes the other men once more before silently shaking his head and pressing the 'close door' button.

….

"They like each other!" Castiel whines, draping himself dramatically over Gabriel's couch. Gabriel plops down next to Castiel with a tub of ice cream and two spoons, nodding sympathetically. "There was chemistry and – flirting – why wasn't I born six inches taller?"

"It's a family curse," Gabriel sighs, stabbing the spoon into the ice cream. "All of our inches go to our dicks."

"I didn't come here to talk about our dicks, Gabriel," Castiel grumbles with a disgusted shudder. Gabriel shrugs, offering him the ice cream.

"Let's cry into a tub of rocky road and get you on Tinder."

"This is less helpful than I thought it would be," Castiel groans, leaning up on the couch as his phone's alarm goes off. 'Dean's live stream.' He perks up at the notification, damn near sprinting out of the apartment. At least Dean was all his tonight. He rushes through the rooms in his apartment, flinging open his laptop and pulling up the live stream. Damn, already five minutes in. Dean sits naked with a small pink butt plug in hand, laughing about something Castiel missed.

"I just mean...I need someone who can handle me," Dean says, shrugging. Castiel ponders over his words, watching all of the overly thirsty men flooding Dean's comment section. The Winchester scans his eyes over the comments, chuckling at some, lightly humming at others. His eyes lock onto something, and he bursts out laughing, throwing his head back. "User45347, you're back!" Dean says gleefully, leaning closer to the monitor with a wide grin. "Still didn't get around to an actual username, huh?" he asks, chuckling. Castiel chuckles to himself, a warm feeling going over him. Even if Dean laughs at him, he still likes the attention. "Anyways, I met my celebrity crush today. He's the one who got me thinkin' like this," Dean groans, gripping his cock and biting his lip. "I've been crazy horny ever since."

Castiel stares blankly at the screen, his jaw clenched tight. "I can't even pretend you're mine when I'm alone," he says, leaning back in his seat.

"Seriously. I'm a pretty big guy. I need someone who can fold my ass in half!" Dean chuckles. Castiel types before he can even think, his heart pounding.

User45347: I could do that.

He's no different than the other men drooling over Dean in the comments. He's just another wallet getting sweet-talked into spending more.

"Yeah?" Dean says, staring at the screen intently. "Could you really, User?" Dean asks, biting his lip with a wide grin. Castiel stares as well, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Is he really talking to him?

User45347: Yes. Easily.

"What would you do to me?" Dean asks, winking. Castiel stiffens in his place, biting his lip. He rubs at his growing bulge, typing with his free hand. 

User45347: I'd fuck you until your legs are useless. Make it so no other dick could make you come.

Dean runs his tongue over the plug, resting his head on his hand with a grin. "Promise?" His voice is light and airy, a look of lust overtaking his face. Castiel's cock jumps, a low, growling moan in his throat. He'd go upstairs and show him if he were bolder. Dean stands from his seat, stroking his cock with short grunts. "Now look what you did. I'm hornier than ever. Take responsibility if we ever meet, got it?"

Dickman69: Geez, don't tell me you like User more than us :(

1TerranceHoward1: Show your ass again pls

lilbigmedi: Shut up about User already!!

Dean lets out a hearty laugh, running his fingers through his hair. "Yeesh, I think I'll end it here. You guys are rowdy tonight."

With that, Dean stops the Livestream, leaving Castiel to his lonesome. Sighing, he stands from his computer, swiping a hand over his face. Pathetic. He feels every bit as miserable as he did when he watched Gunner steal Dean's attention in the elevator. He mindlessly slips into his bed, eyes locked on the ceiling. "It's just some guy," Castiel whispers, pulling the blankets over his form. Just some gorgeous, funny guy. Castiel's hand trails over his shaft, his cock throbbing underneath the touch. He curses to himself, pulling his hand away and turning on his side.

................

"Do I really have to go?" Castiel grumbles, adjusting his tie in the mirror. Gabriel hops into a pair of pants, grunting as he plops down on the couch.

"Come on, Cassy, just ten minutes of lookin' at your tenants' faces! I worked hard on this!"

"Yeah, but..." Castiel lets his voice trail away, letting out a deep sigh. He hasn't talked to Dean since that day in the elevator. Days have passed without incident. He hasn't bumped into him since that day, and thank god for that. He can barely understand his emotions, and seeing Dean would only worsen things. "Fine, I'll shake hands and then make my exit."

"Good boy," Gabriel says in a sing-song voice, smacking his hands together. 

–

Dean

Crowds have never really been Dean's thing. Seriously, he hates making small talk and pretending like he gives a damn. Alas, to make friends, you actually have to speak to people. He mindlessly wanders around the rooftop, taking in the cheesy decorations and bobbing his head to the awful pop music filling the air. He pauses at a table filled with alcohol, swiping up an unlabeled beer. Just as Gabriel promised, it's lukewarm. He stares at his new neighbors, trying to find a familiar face. Finally, he lands on Gunner and perks up, giving him a lazy wave. Too eager? Who gives a damn. That's Gunner freaking Lawless.

"There he is," Gunner yells above the music, extending his arm to Dean.

"There I am," Dean squeaks, kicking himself immediately. He goes to shake Gunner's hand, his break hitching as the other man pulls him into a half hug. This is really happening. His idol is actually hugging him – tight! – and resting his chin on his shoulder.

"Good seeing ya," Gunner says in his ear, squeezing him before pulling away. Dean nods in response, trying to will his heartbeat to return to normal. Gunner nods his head to a somewhat empty corner before walking off. Dean follows along with a spring in his step, damn near floating through the crowd. Gunner Lawless wants to be alone with him!

"You settling in ok?" Gunner asks, tucking his hands into his pockets.

"As ok as anyone could," Dean says, shrugging. The other man chuckles, eyes running over Dean's form.

"So what does Dean do for a living?" he asks.

"Huh?" Dean blurts, stiffening.

"I mean, a place like this ain't cheap, right?" Gunner says, pointing to a blonde girl across from them. "We got trust fund kid, my neighbor's a doctor, and you?"

"A little of this, a little of that," Dean replies, flicking his eyes away. "Nothing fun," he adds.

"Hm." Gunner nods, cocking an eyebrow. "You in porn?" he asks. Dean's throat dries, his heart pounding in his chest. "That or you're runnin' drugs," he adds, chuckling.

"I..." He lets his voice trail away as the horrified look on Gunner's face registers.

"I was just joking...are you really..." Dean stutters over his words, heat rising to his cheeks. Gunner stares silently, clearing his throat. "Well, whatever works for you, right?" he asks, laughing awkwardly. Gunner takes a step away from him, a stale smile on his face. 

"Please don't say anything," Dean blurts, looking around the crowd. It feels like everyone is staring at him. He hates being looked at. Gunner mimes zipping his lips, and nods. Just as Dean begins to calm down, Gunner chuckles.

"Were you good in school?" he asks. Dean shrugs.

"Hated homework, but I passed tests," Dean says, chuckling. 

"Good in school, handsome, charismatic, but you still end up in porn?" Gunner says. Dean's smile sinks once more, and he shifts his feet. 

"Well, Onlyfans. But yeah."

"Ah. The new age prostitution feels less dirty because it's through the screen, right?" Gunner asks. This time, there's no laughter following his sentence. Dean lets out a forced laugh, stroking the back of his neck. 

"C-can we talk about somethin' else?" he asks, smacking Gunner on the arm. Gunner flinches back away from him.

"Maybe don't touch me anymore," he grumbles. "That doesn't make you feel dirty, Dean?" he asks, flicking his tongue over his lip. Dean would've punched him in the face and gone on about his business if it was anyone else. But this is Gunner freaking Lawless. The man he's idolized for the vast majority of his life.

"What?"

"No offense, just wondering. I could never be with someone who gets fucked by strangers for money."

And just like that, it feels like he can't breathe again. Everyone's staring at him; everyone's whispering about him. They all know, and they hate him for it. He takes a short breath, eyes widening as it gets stuck in his throat. He tries to calm himself and tries to ground himself. He inadvertently grabs for Gunner, eyes widening as Gunner brushes past him. 

"Again with the touching, Dean." He holds his hands up in defense, walking around Dean and getting lost in the crowd. Sinking to the ground, Dean clenches his arms around himself in an attempt to slow his rapid breaths. Fuck. Not here.

–

Castiel

"Nice to meet you," Castiel limply shakes another tenant's hand, willing himself not to roll his eyes. Two minutes down, eight to go. He continues down the line of new tenants that Gabriel arranged for him to meet, staring around the rooftop. He'd rather not see Dean and Gunner making out somewhere, but damn, does he still want to see Dean. As if the universe is laughing at him, Gunner bumps into him with a lazy smile.

"Mr. clumsy strikes again," he says, chuckling. Castiel frowns, staring around.

"Dean isn't with you?" he asks, a smile spreading across his lips. Gunner pauses for a moment, clearing his throat.

"Last I saw, he was sitting over there," he says, gesturing behind himself. "Between you and I, I'd leave him where he is," he adds in a near whisper. Cocking an eyebrow, Castiel walks through the crowd, trying to find the words to say to Dean when he sees him. It's only been a couple days, but damn, has he missed talking to him. All words fall away from him when he finally makes it to Dean, his eyes going wide.

Dean sits against the wall hugging himself, his eyes squeezed shut tight as he rocks back and forth.

Leaning down, Castiel studies him. "Dean," Castiels says softly. "Are you ok?"

"No," Dean breathes, hugging himself tighter. "I feel – I don't know – I'm scared."

Gently, he places his hand on Dean's shoulder, slowly pulling away as Dean flinches under his touch. Dean looks up at him, saying something that gets drowned out by the music. Castiel leans in closer. "What?"

"Fuck – hug me," Dean groans, his breaths short and ragged. "Hug me, squeeze me tight, hug me!" He speaks rapidly, his fingers digging into his arms. Castiel pulls him into a bone-crushing hug without hesitation, ignoring the hoots and howls of those around them. "Nngh – just like that," Dean whispers, his ragged breaths beginning to slow. Castiel's cock twitches, and he curses himself, closing his eyes shut tight. Dear god, not right now! "Tell me I'm safe," Dean says, his voice light and whispy. Castiel nuzzles against him, his length twitching once more. Why does he have to smell so good and feel so warm? Why the hell is his voice so tempting?! Taking a deep breath, Castiel squeezes him tighter. 

"I'll never let anything happen to you, Dean," Castiel says. Chuckling, Dean lets his head fall to Castiel's shoulder.

"That's a little intense, buddy," he says, chuckling again.

"Your breathing seems better, though," Castiel says, rubbing Dean's back.

"Yeah," he says, wrapping his arms around Castiel's back. Dean spreads his legs just enough so the other man falls into him, Castiel's hard cock pressing against him. "I knew I felt somethin'. You gettin' off on this?" Dean teases, rolling his hips forward.

"N-no!"

"Mm, you sure? Seeing me all vulnerable didn't do it for you?" he whispers, laughing as Castiel pulls away. 

…...

"Well," Dean begins, rustling with his keys. "I know how to leave an impression, eh?" After awkwardly explaining the situation to Gabriel, Castiel was (thankfully) allowed to leave the party and escort Dean back to his apartment.

"I wouldn't worry too much," Castiel says, clearing his throat. "When Benny drinks, he likes to strip. That usually drowns out any of the other awkward things of the night."

"Fantastic," he says, smiling softly. "You wanna know somethin'?" he says, continuing when Castiel nods. "Not one person even looked my way while I was freakin' out."

"I'm sorry," Castiel says, shaking his head.

"For what? That's on them, not you."

"Well, I'm also for earlier. My body has poor timing," Castiel says. Dean purses his lips, nodding.

"I still owe you that beer, don't I?"

"Oh, yeah," Castiel says.

"Come in. They're nice and cold, promise," he says. Wordlessly, Castiel walks in after Dean, staring around at the simple decor. Band posters from the eighties and photos line the walls. Castiel stares around the apartment with wide eyes, buzzing with excitement. He's really in Dean's house. In no way did he ever think he'd get this far. But, in the same vein, he needs to keep his head straight. Dean needs someone to depend on right now, not some horny dog rutting at his leg. He'll have a beer, listen to him, and wish him a good night. He takes in his surroundings as Dean enters a different room, running his fingers along a picture frame.

"Are you close with your family?" Castiel asks, pausing on a picture of Dean and a tall man. "I'm pretty close with mine. We all live here," he adds, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I mean, they drive me nuts, but I love them."

"Love my family," Dean grunts as he passes, tossing Castiel a beer. He's now wearing a pair of loose-fitting shorts and a wife beater. "Let's do somethin' fun."

Castiel stares silently at Dean, trying to force away the thoughts of pinning him to the ground and fucking him silly. "Like what?" he asks, swigging from his beer. 

"Wanna watch a movie?" he asks, walking to his entertainment center and leaning over. Dean makes a show of sticking his ass out, slowly swaying his hips from side to side. Or, rather, Castiel feels like he's making a show of it. At this point, he can't tell if he imagines it or is just struck with lust. "Hm...Somethin' scary to get you clinging to me, how's that sound?"

"Oh...um...that's fine. When should I leave?" Castiel blurts. Dean pulls out a DVD and pops it into the player, humming.

"Whenever the fuck you want. You wanna leave now?" he asks. 

"I can stay for the movie," Castiel says, sinking onto the couch. Turning off the lights, Dean plops down next to him, swigging from his beer. Castiel glances at the Winchester, a puff of air escaping his lips. Stuble peppers his jawline, and his adam's apple bobs in his throat whenever he laughs. He's almost too damn handsome if there ever was such a thing.

“Hey," Dean says, his voice low. Castiel shakes away the thoughts, shifting in his place. "Pay attention to the movie. I'm not goin' anywhere," Dean says, shooting him a wink. 

"Oh, yeah," Castiel says, looking at the TV. Something about aliens or clowns, maybe both. He really can't focus. Not with Dean sitting so close to him, smelling as good as usual, letting out those goddamn little laughs and grunts. He sighs as he feels his length hardening again, closing his eyes. Is it enough to just be near him now?!

"Calm down, Castiel," Castiel whispers. Dean grunts, patting Castiel's cheek. 

"Open your eyes, damn it! You just missed the first kill!" Dean whines. "What, do you really get scared at this sorta stuff?" he asks. Before Castiel can respond, Dean hooks an arm around Castiel's waist, pulling him closer. "I'm right here, buddy, ok?"

"That's the issue, Dean," Castiel bites, stroking a hand over his face.

"You want me to back off?" Dean asks, rubbing his hand up the other man's thigh. Castiel's cock twitches again, and he inadvertently leans into the touch. "Woah," Dean breathes, a devious grin on his face. Castiel follows his gaze, stifling a moan as Dean grazes his fingers over his growing bulge. "I just keep gettin' you all hot and bothered, huh?"

"I just --" Dean squeezes Castiel's length over his pants, effectively silencing him. Grazing his lips along the shell of his ear, the Winchester nibbles at Castiel's tender flesh, letting out a hot breath. 

"Let me make it better," he says, voice whiskey-dipped and low. In one swift movement, Castiel's throbbing cock is released from his pants.

Dean stares in awe at the long, thick cock before him, mouth agape. He gives Castiel's cock a quick pump, biting his lip between his teeth. Slowly, Dean swipes his tongue down the length of Castiel's cock, chasing a bead of precome as he does. 

"D-Dean, you don't have to," Castiel moans, resting a hand on Dean's head. 

"Mm, but you want me to, right?" he asks, flicking his eyes up to Castiel. "Can I stuff this fat cock down my throat, Cas?" he purrs, grinning as Castiel's cock throbs. With that, Dean takes the other man's length into his mouth, tongue swishing from side to side. He grips Castiel's balls, taking in as much of Castiel's shaft as possible before bobbing his head. 

"Oh my god," Castiel groans, throwing his head back and bucking his hips up. "So good." He holds Dean's head in place as he fucks into his mouth, relishing in Dean's gagging and the slick wetness engulfing his cock. When the Winchester pats his thigh, Castiel quickly pulls Dean's head up by his hair, cursing himself. "Are you ok?" he asks. Seeing Dean like this, lips fucked swollen with drool dripping down his chin, is almost enough to make Castiel lose control again. 

"Mhm," Dean replies, letting out a pleased noise as Castiel takes him into a gentle kiss. They start slow, leaving soft pecks on each other's lips, wrapping around one another. Dean allows Castiel's tongue into his mouth, grinding his hard length against Castiel's stomach. Castiel pushes Dean's shirt over his head, taking in every inch of his form as it's revealed. He kisses Dean's neck, tongue swirling along with skin as he moves over his adam's apple, down the valley of the collarbones, and down to his chest. He swirls his tongue over Dean's nipple, gaining a low moan in return. Castiel bites and licks his way down Dean's body, leaving his mark over every inch of his skin. 

"Turn around," Castiel hums, and Dean eagerly complies, getting onto his knees and leaning over the armrest. Castiel nibbles on his nape, one hand pulling his shorts down his hips, the other wrapping around his neck. He grips Dean's length, giving it rough pumps as he nibbles along the Winchester's shoulder. 

"Fuck, so good," he moans, grinding back against the other man. Castiel closes his eyes, mind trailing back to watching Dean and Gunner walking down the hall. He doesn't know why that cocky god damned grin flashes through his mind at now of all times. All he knows is it lights a fire in him that he didn't know was there. The words come out quicker than he can stop them.

"Did Gunner make you feel this way, too?" he growls. Dean stiffens, craning his head to Castiel. Before he can speak, Castiel pushes his fingers into Dean's mouth, stroking Dean's cock quicker and grinding against his back. Dean moans around the digits, his body twitching with every rough stroke of his cock. "Did you make those sounds with him, too?" he spits. Pulling his fingers out of Dean's mouth, Castiel forces him down against the arm of the couch, pushing his spit-slicked fingers between his plump cheeks. Dean grunts, looking at the other man over his shoulder wide-eyed. 

"Where'd that come from?" he grumbles, his voice falling into fluttering moans as Castiel pushes two fingers inside his tight hole. 

"I can fuck you better than him," Castiel growls, scissoring his fingers inside of him. Dean groans and pants against the couch, his hole clenching around Castiel's fingers. "I wanna hear you more," he breathes, fingers rubbing against Dean's prostate.  

"C-Castiel," Dean moans, his toes curling with every rough stroke of his spot. "I-m s-so close," he purrs, cock bobbing helplessly as his edge approaches. Just before he meets his edge, Castiel slips his fingers out of his tight pucker, pumping his own length in his hand. "Fuck don't stop now--" Dean cuts himself off when he feels the thick head of Castiel's cock pressing against his hole. Rocking his hips forward, Castiel teases against the rim of Dean's hole, rubbing Dean's plump cheeks with a guttural moan. 

"Nngh, so tight for me," he says, smacking Dean's ass as he eases forward. Finally, the tip of his cock begins to gain purchase, cock twitching as Dean's hole pulls him in. 

"Oh my god," Dean squeaks as the head pushes past his tight rim. "Caaas," he whines.

"I've got you," he whispers, pressing light, feathery kisses against his back. Dean flinches as Castiel rocks his hips forward, short moans forcing out of him with every movement. "Dean," he grunts in his ear, fingers gripping his hips. Castiel pushes deeper into him, relishing the feeling of Dean's tight hold squeezing around his length. "You feel amazing," he groans, bottoming out in Dean with a quick, short thrust. Dean inadvertently pushes his hips back, his hole squeezing around the girth of Castiel's cock, desperately trying to accommodate his size. 

"Ahn!" Deans moans, voice getting caught in his chest as Castiel quickens his pace, his hand holding Dean in place as he fucks into him. "O-oh m-my --" Dean stutters over unformed sentences, eyes rolling into the back of his head as the other man pounds into him relentlessly. 

"So good, Dean, my good little slut," he growls, gaining moans in return. Castiel is reeling. He wanted to be gentle, wanted to be romantic the first time, but all that's running through his mind is fucking Dean until he can't even think of anyone but him. Dean's fluttering cries of 'fuck me, fuck me, fuck me' aren't helping the matter, and soon, Castiel is fucking into him relentlessly, leaving Dean helplessly gripping onto the couch. 

"I'm coming -- fuck Cas!" Dean damn near screams as he comes onto the cushions, shaking and twitching as he rides his release. Castiel slows his hips as the aftershocks of Dean's orgasm pulses through him, slowly turning the Winchester to face him. Castiel presses rough, quick kisses on his lips, his cock still buried in Dean's ass as he does.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Castiel whispers against his lips, slowly finding his rhythm again. "I'm not done with you yet."

--

The night was far more eventful than the men were prepared for. Three rounds or far too sex left more than a few bruises and rugburns in places that didn't seem possible. Castiel holds a hand over his head, eyes locked on a sleeping Dean cuddled up next to him. 

He got too carried away. Dean needed a shoulder to cry on, not whatever the hell he offered him last night. Sighing, Castiel rises off of the ground, hissing as his back cracks. He flinches at Dean's groggy laugh, running his fingers through his hair.

"Not used to sleepin' on the ground, old man?" Dean asks, slowly leaning up. 

"Not generally, no."

"Me neither, fuck," Dean groans, rubbing his back. Castiel runs his eyes over him, biting his lip. "You weren't lyin', though," Dean says, a grin plastered across his face. 

"About what?"

"You really can handle me, huh?" Dean coos. Castiel stares silently for many moments before it dawns upon him.  

"How did you know?!" he squeaks. Dean bursts into hearty laughter, leaning up from the ground and smacking Castiel on the arm.

"Dude, you know your name's attached to every payment you sent me, right?"

"I...was not aware." This sends Dean into a full-on laughing fit, clenching his stomach and rolling onto his side. 

"Are you mad at me?" Castiel asks. 

"What, for findin' my only fans? Nah, I appreciate the support."

"Actually, I meant for all those things I said about you and Gunner. I'm sorry, I got really jealous."

"Jealous Cas is pretty hot, so I'll give you a pass on that," Dean says, patting him on the arm. His smile fades away, and he huffs. "All we did that day was watch reruns of his old matches, anyways."

"Oh...well, good."

"Yeah," Dean says, his face falling. "You don't think I'm, uh, gross or anything, right?"

"Why would I?" Castiel asks. Dean shrugs, twitching a smile. Castiel cradles Dean's face, gently craning his head to meet his gaze. "Sex is natural. It just so happens that your sexual prowess is good enough that people pay for it," he says, pressing a kiss against Dean's lips. "I'm just glad I wasn't another groupie to you."

"Woah now, when'd you get so smooth, User45347?" he asks, a shit-eating grin on his face. Castiel stares at him blankly, gaining roaring laughter from the other man. 

[princessconsuela120]

the fall match up is pretty cool :33

but for me can it be southpark ty 🤗

zodiac: scorpio

personality: childish, dirty minded, quiet

Details: can't take anything seriously, horrible at emotions 🤷🏾‍♀️ loves music and gets no sleep whatsoever

PRINCESSCONSUELA’S FALLFEST EVENT🍂🧣🎃🍃

🍂 - Fall Matchup: Send in a few details about yourself, looks wise, personality wise, zodiac sign, hobbies and so on, and if you want add a preferred fandom as well. I will match you up with someone from my fic list and write a short Drabble to go with it!

— 🍂

Ask and you shall receive! Sorry this took so long, I hope it does you justice! I’m all for the opposites attract trope, and based off your description I think this would be perfect. I feel like this would be a sarcastic witty duo that would play out PERFECTLY. I hope you enjoy!

— 🍂

3AM IN THE MORNING, THAT WAS THE CURRENT TIME. Not that you were keeping track or anything, or that you've gotten to the point where each star sticker on your ceiling was another second you would count, but you had come to the realization that morning would be here soon. You weren't even sure if you could call it morning…wouldn't you need sleep for that?

You contemplated calling Kyle, maybe a total of ten different times that you picked up the phone before setting it back down and accepting the defeat. It was sort of crazy, the way your relationship worked. Almost polar opposites to a tee, minus the fact that you loved each other. Kyle was the type of boy who had a whole nighttime routine, and never missed his 10:00 bedtime that he administered himself. You however, tended to ignore the rules of science and see how long your brain could function on no sleep, being solely fueled by Tweek’s parents coffee.

Now, you knew you weren't sure if your dreariness was making this up, but you could have sworn you could hear the creaking of the old wooden floors outside your door. It must have just been your sleep paralysis demon coming to let you know school was upon you.

“Go away Phill, I'm not in the mood.” You yelled towards the door, Phill being what you named said sleep paralysis demon. You two had had far too many encounters to keep referring to it as a demon.

“Dang, not only did you get my name wrong but you told me to leave before you even tried the cup of tea I made you.” Kyle whispered, quietly pulling the door closed behind him to not disturb your parents. You quickly sat up from your bed, smiling widely at the ginger haired boy in front of you as you rushed to hug him.

“Careful, you dont wanna spill this, it's hot.” He teased, pulling away as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

“What are you doing here? It's three in the morning?”  You asked, following as Kyle pulled you gently to sit next to him on your bed, handing you the mug of sleepytime tea he had brewed for you and taking a sip.

“Well, you know what they say, you can't fall asleep if someones thinking about you.” You looked at him confused.

“No, I didn't know they said that…who says that?” He shook his head, chuckling lightly at your cluelessness as he squeezed your hands.

“You know what? It doesn't matter. What does matter is that I am here, and we still have 4 more hours til you need to wake up for school.” he lectured, snuggling into bed as you finished off the tea, cuddling up to his side.

“Its-” you were cut off as you yawned, snuggling your head in the crook of his neck. “It's no use, I'm not tired.” you grumbled, slurring your words as you suddenly felt sleep wash over you the second Kyle began combing his fingers through your hair. He smirked, raising an eyebrow as he kissed your head.

“Oh yeah?” he asked cockily, and you barely could answer with the immediate sleepiness you felt.

“Hmm.” you replied, burying your face into his chest as you soon began to let out soft snores. Kyle chuckled lightly, careful not to disturb you as you slept.

“Not tired huh?” he mumbled teasingly, kissing your head before letting himself drift off to sleep with you. 

Okay, now maybe there were some instances where you could sleep. Instances where the child inside you felt safe and warm. Instances where your heart felt so full, you had to sleep off the weight it held in your chest. Instances where you couldn't help but be so in love, that you needed to fall asleep just so you could dream about Kyle. Especially when he played with your hair. The next morning you'd wake up and swear he put sleeping pills in your tea, but deep down you knew. You knew that the child inside you felt safe enough to fall asleep in his arms.

— 🍂

[tteokdoroki]

assistance please! | e.kirishima.

♡ pairing: eijirou kirishima x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 6.6K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: workplace!au, internship!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: eijirou kirishima loved being an intern, he had great co-workers, had a shot at his dream job, his boss had taken quite liking to him and of course, being the favourite intern had many, many perks.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut,  ( kirishima is in his twenties ), power dynamics, sub top!kirishima + power bottom!reader,   heavy!praise kink, heavy!miss + mommy kink, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, kids ), oral ( female receiving ), squirting, tummy bulges, cumplay, creampie.

♡ author’s note(s): hihi everyone!! today i present to you my contribution to the bnharem on the job collab! i had a lot of fun playing with different dyanimics in this fic, i hope you enjoy it nonetheless!! make sure you chek out the other works from the other amazing creators!! <3

♡ masterlist | requests | kofi

“oi! ‘shima! you’re needed in the boss’ office right away, she’s got important business for ya!, wants t’have a word. now.”

eijirou ducks his head politely in a sign of gratitude, thanking his co-worker and superior, keigo— for the heads up. keigo, or better known as hawks around the office ( for his fast speeds in completing work and luring lonely interns into his bed ), was a nice guy— second to the lady in charge and way too chatty. he was a bit of an air head, got the job done when it needed to be but that’s what kirishima was for, the replacement while keigo took his vacation time in the middle of the year like an idiot.

he wasn’t too sure why you kept the blonde around, he supposed it was because he was pretty but eijirou wouldn’t dare question you— he needed this internship if he was going to make it big in the sports news reporting scene. he’d been majoring in sports and healthcare at college, two years away from graduating when the opportunity to work for yn ln, one of the biggest sports journalists in japan had landed right in his lap. of course he was going to take it, of course he was going to do everything he could not to fuck it up.

in the cubicles beside him, the other interns try to muffle their giggles and titters of curious laughter as the red head gathers himself for the meeting.

“oooo, i wonder what you did this time,” kaminari teases from the right, leaning over his side of the cubicle to fiddle with the odd bits on kirishima’s desk. denki kaminari was another person kirishima wondered how the hell he got into the programme, but then again he was pretty to look at and brought a lighter air to boring office days.

“nothing! i’m innocent!” eijirou defends, hands releasing his files to fly up in defence.

the other interns, going by the names of mina ashido, kyouka jirou and hanta sero snicker amongst themselves at the interaction.

“don’t believe it, s’obviously more than nothin’ if you’re always getting called down’ta the boss lady’s office.” bakugou, another intern, grunts out with his nose deep buried in files for upcoming reports. he was a little too rough for the journalism lifestyle but got the job done. his attitude wasn’t for everyone. “they’re probably fuckin’.”

mina giggles and kirishima steps out into the paths between desks. “don’t be such a sourpuss ‘suki, just ‘cause you’re not her favourite.”

a lose ‘shut up’ is huffed, before katsuki turns to face his taller, buffer companion. “just don’t be late, bunch of us are goin’ for lunch later.” he adds and turns back to his paperwork.

“affirmative, catch ya later!”

the group waves the red head off as he heads to the elevator directing him to the main floor— this is where all the higher ups worked. the journey wasn’t unfamiliar to the intern, he wasn’t like the others and had the steps to your office memorised by heart. sometimes it was like walking home, to his comfort and sanctuary away from the stressors of work and the outside world— he knew that was bad, but you were so kind, such a sweet and understanding boss he couldn’t help but develop some level of comfort towards you.

to most, it seemed like eijirou kirishima was just unbelievably close to his boss, that you’d taken him under your wing.

he however, knew what you had, meant more.

a fluttering warmth spreads across the intern’s chest as he approaches the door to your main office and he knocks. behind it lay mountains of secrets upon secrets, things that kirishima knows about you that no one else does. the walls have hidden words, written across them in fonts of passion and admiration and it’s all that he can think about. you’re all that he can think about, and it’s still wrong. there’s a shuffling deep in the room and some flitters of paper here and there before your soft, velveteen voice breaks through the barrier between you. the one thing keeping you apart.

“come in,” you call smoothly and kirishima follows your orders swiftly, if not eagerly, entering the four walls of your office. ruby eyes dart across the room to locate your position and his heart skips a beat when he finds you, body leaning over your dark oak desk, papers scattered across it while you frantically sift through numbers and stocks and nonsense way above the level of a journalism intern. but even amongst the chaos, you’re beautiful— eyes sparkling with productivity, lined in little flecks across the colour of your orbs. the way you dress never fails to steal away eijirou’s breath— a tight fitting leather skirt that hugs your mature curves and a white blouse with the bottoms popped open— just enough for him to get a peek at your cleavage.

the poor intern has to hold himself back from blurring the lines of work and pleasure to shove himself deep into your chest, suck and lick at your plush breasts until he was high off the taste of your skin. but he wouldn’t do that, yet. not without your permission. “oh eiji baby, there you are!” you coo to the red head, bright smile stretching across blood diamond painted lips. you cross the room in three short strides, tall black heels clacking against the smooth white marble until you’re standing in front of and looking up at kirishima. “was starting to think keigo had ditzed like a pretty boy and had forgotten to send you my way, darling.”

eijirou’s cheeks flame at the smoothness in your syrupy voice, like sweet honey to his hears, the pet name striking a familiar heat deep within him. you always had a way with your words— enticing, almost like a siren calling out to him despite the taboo aura that surrounded what you had. whatever it was— he just knew it was more than your typical boss-intern relationship.

“even if he had, ‘m more than happy to be of service to you ma’am,” he responds almost a little too quickly, large hand rubbing the back of his neck and tugging at his baby hairs to ground himself.

you cock your head, eyes sparkling with mischief. “always such a helpful, good boy eijirou,” you hum, lips pulling into a devilish red smile and the praise causing a new spark of lustful electricity to crackle through the air. “i could use a little assistance, please, i have this awful meeting with the board today, spent all night preparing and couldn’t go home, i could use some stress relief,”

kirishima’s gaze becomes hooded as he looks down at you, a familiar and bright desire burning in the pits of his stomach. “oh yeah? sucks that the paperwork kept you up all night ma’am…” he trails off, choosing to let his fingers dance up and down your sides— snaking an arm around your waist to pull you into him. you couldn’t or you wouldn’t go home. he’s not sure if he cares about the answer right now— not when you tremble in his grip, itching for something, anything from him. “how long do you reckon we have ms. ln?”

“ten to fifteen minutes sweetheart, give or take,”

you grin widens, taking an impossibly closer step to your intern— pressing the swell of your breasts against his hard chest. he can feel your nipples pebbling through your blouse, almost visible behind the white fabric and god the way you look up at him— he can no longer wait, he needs you. right here and right now.

“will you be needing my assistance throughout, ma’am?” kirishima asks, voice dropping a few octaves until it falls into a low growl.

“i expect it. you are my intern after all.”

the words laced with deep huskiness, the proximity of your bodies and the rising heat in the room is what leads you both to tumble into the next series of events. before he can’t register it, your mouths are slotted together in a fast paced and sloppy kiss, kirishima’s body manoeuvres you around the office, marking out a familiar pathway to your desk—his tongue remains sliding over yours in rapid movements as he commits your taste to memory, refreshing those from the last time he had you like this. yet every time you kiss and his tongue glides over yours, you taste sweeter than before; like peaches and morning coffee— you feel softer in his grip, every dip and curve to your body like it was built for him.

eijirou can't stop thinking of that last time, tucked away in your office after dark when your dainty hands pawed desperately at his hips to bring him closer or scratched at his back from sheer pleasure— kirishima wants to see you like that against, using his own hands to tear through your shirt and send buttons flying across the room. something in him just wants to do good for you, have you ache for him and earn himself some of your sweet praise. even as you step and stumble towards your work desk, the red-head lets his lips break away from yours, connected by a string of your own saliva before he drops to your neck, lapping tracks over your skin with the temptation to bite down and paint it shades of deep purple and blue.

but there are rules that you both have in place; ways to keep what you have a secret and hidden away from the public eye so that you don’t lose all that you’ve worked for and so kirishima can keep being your precious little intern.

“jump for me, please ma’am,” he whispers heavily into the junction between your neck and your shoulders, breath laboured and warm against your skin that begins to shine with light perspiration. mindlessly, you follow his orders, jumping up while your fingers curl into the mass of red on kirishima’s head and ankles lock around his waist—his hands meet the backs of your doughy thighs, squeezing the flesh between calloused digits while you toe off your heels.

“eiji, you’re so good,” you manage between feather light breaths as they clatter to the floor as the pair of you somehow make your way to the desk chair, pushing and tearing the clothes from one another’s bodies— including your crisp shirt. now seated and left in nothing but your bra, you tug harshly at your intern’s locks and bring his mouth down to yours, allowing them to move together in a dirty, messy kiss. there’s barely any time for you both to mess around, for him to tease you until your limit and you’re crying out for any type of touch from him, so eijirou quickly

flips down your bra, exposing your chest to cool, air conditioned air—not even bothering to unclip the material as his fingers descend on your nipple, pulling and twisting them until your back arches from the stimulation. “hurry, please eijirou,”

obedient as ever, your favourite boy drops to his knees in front of the chair you stay slumped in and with his height, he still manages to tower over you, practically at eye level with hunger framing the ruby of his own. large hands knead at your plush thighs, hiking your skirt up and up to give you room to spread your thighs, cunt growing sticky from anticipation— all from a few measly touches in familiar places. but this is kirishima, and he knows how your body works from countless hours spent after the office closes up— using one another to blow off extra steam. he knows just what makes you tick and moan his name.

logically, eijirou knows that your meeting could start at any minute and even though you’re both in a stickler for time, he still wants to get a taste at your skin before devouring your most intimate parts. he’ll make time to explore every part of you, to assist you in your stress relief. “‘m sorry miss, yn,” he whines needily, watching your chest rise and fall with want, feeling your body heat up and twitch from the ghost of his fingertips across your blemished skin. “gotta have a taste of you before the real deal, hope’ya don’t mind…”

latching onto the left mound of flesh at your exposed chest, kirishima sinks the point of his teeth into the area around your nipple— just enough to graze your skin and pull a sweet mewl from your mouth. you’re both lucky for the soundproof walls, your head thrown back in a lewd moan he lets his pink tongue roll over your bud in vicious circles. heavy, fat globs of saliva pool over the pink muscle, pouring down kirishima’s chin and painting your skin with a slick shine. “h-how...how could i mind angel, not when you treat me s’good,” you heave, vision fading in and out due to the overwhelming amount of pleasure flashing through your body in waves of hotness. “always doin’ so well for me eiji, aren’t you such a good boy?”

“yes ma’am,” the intern confirms with a erogenous slur, pacified and content on his knees for you— sucking, licking and biting at your chest to his heart’s content. “‘m your good boy,” he corrects you, however. eijirou feels most happy when grazing his tongue over the swell of your breasts, watching your face carefully for any twitches of delirium, it lets him know how hot aroused he makes you feel— that knowledge shoots straight to his cock, rock hard in his slacks while the redhead watches his boss writhe in her seat all for his eyes only.

such a dazzling view, and it’s all for fucking him.

your perfectly manicured nails run through red hair, scratching deliciously at his scalp until you’re forcing his head back and pulling kirishima off of your breast with a pop. “as much as i love seeing a pretty boy suck on my tits like a baby, we’re pressed for time angel, gonna need you to speed it up a little,” despite the softness to your face and the sudden evenness to the tone of your voice, the words that you speak to eijirou are vulgar, nasty, and turn him on to his wits end. “want you to eat me out eiji, can you do that for me?”

shaking his head, yes, beautiful claret eyes shining with acquiescence, kirishima wipes the spit from his chin with the back of his hand— like the tainted, dirty intern he is. you sigh down at him salaciously, ready to tear his innocence apart all over again. eijirou was always so willing to please, both in his work and behind closed doors— you would be a fool to not take advantage of that. with brute force, your intern forces your legs apart, eyes rolling back in his skull from the scent of your sex, dripping with your juices right through your underwear and stockings. overexcited, he rips through the flimsy material at your cunt, exposing your panties for him to see.

“you’re so...so wet ms.ln,” kirishima comments observantly, not even bothering to pull your stockings the rest of the way down your legs, instead opting to pull on the whole until it’s wide enough for his mouth to fit. “smell s’good, bet you taste even better,” there’s a patch on the crotch of your panties, darker than the rest of the material from where you leak and without a second thought, the red head instantly surges forward to lick a stripe over it, letting out a choked gripe as the taste of your cream from over the fabric invades his tongue.

you let out a shrill cry, hips jumping up at the first brush of his tongue against your untouched, clothed pussy. you wriggle even as kirishima holds you down, needing the heat of his mouth against you before your meeting starts. but he’s so good, so well trained, reaching up to your hips to yank your panties down in one fluid motion. leaning forward, kirishima savagely buries his face between your doughy thighs, hiking them over his shoulders from beneath the desk. his nose bumps against your clit, swollen from the lack of touch as he greedily inhales your scent once more— without warning, the intern kicks a stripe up the length of your pussy, sucking your juices into his mouth and smiling against your heat.

“d-don’t tease baby, be good for me,” you remind kirishima, your body trembles with anticipation, craving an orgasm to expel the stress of your work days out. the boy between your legs only hums, the sound running straight though cunt and vibrating against it, causing you to gush and spill your arousal out onto the leather seat beneath your cheeks. eijirou feasts on the slick that seeps from your fluttering hole, gliding his tongue up and down your sex, allowing the occasional pressure from his nose to stimulate your bundle of nerves.

the pads of his thighs burn marks into your legs, using them as leverage to pull your heated core further into his mouth, “can’t help it ma’am, y’got such a pretty pussy...s’only right that i worship you…” eijirou breaths right against your puffy folds, eyes trained on the way your hole clenches around nothing. a primal urge flares in his chest, a desire— no, a need— to see you filled with something, any part of him that can make you see stars and fuck you dumb. “‘m sorry, ‘m sorry you jus look s’fucking pretty miss…”

attaching his lips to your clit, the redhead pushes the spit gathered on his tongue right over your sloppy sit, hazy ruby stare watching as his saliva mixes with your juices and slides over your empty hole. he follows the oozing trail with his tongue, lapping it up and spewing it back into your sex until the pink muscle slips past your entrance— slipping inside of you with no prior warnings. your knuckles that grasp the arms of the chair as you’re spoiled between your legs by your top intern, his hands snaking their way around the tops of your thighs to spread your sticky pussy lips apart in order to bring more of you to the cool air of the office.

“you like this don’cha? dirty little boy,” you tease the poor boy, watching as his cheeks flame with embarrassment. “being a naughty little intern between your boss’ thighs all to keep on pleasing  her, keep your position at her company, huh? fuck eiji, you just love miss riding your naughty tongue—ohmygod—“

the way you sound, voice smooth like chocolate over the obscene slurping that fills the thats air heavy with the scent of sex and, makes eijirou’s cock jump up, precum oozing from his tip as he begins to rut against the hard floor beneath your desk. he makes an attempt to respond, but your thighs lock his head in place and his words come out muffled against your core. “mph, luh it, you’re s’sexy, please ma’am—“ he mumbles sordidly against you, practically humping the ground at your feet as you pick on him.

for a brief moment, kirishima pulls away to watch you roll your hips into nothing, hot tears beginning to brew into our hooded eyes from the satisfaction he brings you with every flick and flit of his tongue against where you need him most. written in your eyes is the command to keep going, your hands twistingly sharply in red roots to bring the intern back to your sluice, spasming cunt. so he does as he’s told, shoving his tongue deep inside your ribbed, iron hot walls and dragging tip along them to collect and taste strings of your viscous juices.

biting your lip, you do your best to hold back a voracious howl, bucking your hips feverishly into your intern’s face and staining his cheeks with everything that you have— he thrusts his tongue into you to the pace of your own hips, moaning against your slippery slit until your eyes are rolling. “gonna cum from this eiji, from you eatin’ me out like this...jus need a little more— need your fingers pretty boy,” you can feel the twist of the knot in your lower tummy starting to unravel, signifying your oncoming high, and the room starts to spin while kirishima eats you out with new vigour.

“yeah? miss? you’re gonna cum for me?” the intern practically whines and pulls his tongue from your hear, almost crying as his hips thump against the floor desperate for friction. “wanna see you come undone s’bad, please cum for me, please, please—“ eijirou chants, replacing his tongue with two of his thick digits, watching as your slick cunt stretches around them accommodatingly. he jackhammers them inside of you, grunting lowly underneath the slaps of his palm against the meat of your ass, as he returns to your clit to suckle on it hungrily. his fingers curl instantly in search for the spongy spot inside of you— bearing down hard against it once it’s located.

“oh—hah, right there baby— right fuckin’ there—!” you squeal, only egging him on as white starts to cloud your vision, everything sounds so nasty and wet, while eijirou stimulates both of your pleasure spots. it becomes hard to breath, legs wobbling around his broad shoulders, but your intern doesn’t let up, determined to bring you to cloud nine.

“that’s it ma’am, right there—you’re almost there, can feel you clenching around my fingers...please cum, fuck i want your cum, wanna taste you so bad, cum. cum. cum!” and that’s all it takes, eijirou’s pleading voice between your thick thighs to make the coil inside you snap and for your orgasm to wash over you. you convulse in your chair, nectar gushing freely from your raw and overstimulated cunt, spewing all over the redheads face as he continued to lap at your clit to ride out your high.

but he doesn’t stop there, scissoring his fingers deep within your velvet walls as you continue to cum, making you shake your head and wail from the high levels of ecstasy.

“please eiji—n’more, can’t, no—“

“you can miss, i know you can—fuck you look so pretty when you’re about to squirt for me, please…”

as quickly as your first high ended, another one comes crashing over you in harsh waves— rocking your world as clear liquid floods from your pussy— the sheer force of you squirting, pushing kirishima’s fingers out from your tight, sappy hole. your release hits the floor with a crude slap, both of you moaning loudly almost for the whole world to hear. he doesn’t stop sucking, clearing up your pretty cunt even as you fade in and out of consciousness from pleasure— he stays lapping at you with burning, languid strokes of his tongue between your folds even as you weakly attempt to answer the phone now ringing from your desk.

clearing your throat, you muster up the strength to sound professional over the line before picking up the phone and bringing it towards your ear. “good afternoon, this is yn ln of shinku sports reports, bringing you the latest sporting news, how may i help you?”

‘this is the board, we need to discuss this month's stocks and reports.’

from the corner of your eye, you can see kirishima rise from his place underneath your desk— standing tall over you once more while you converse with the directors on the other end of the phone. as quietly as he can, the redhead tears through the buttons on his shirt in a similar way to you, prior to you fucking and unbuckles his slacks. he pulls down his boxers and pants in one go, revealing his thick, hard girth that stands tall and slaps against his stomach— tip an angry shade of red as precum smears across his lower belly.

you nod into the phone, forgetting that the board can’t see you as kirishima lifts you from the chair and lays you on your back across the desk littered with unread papers. “ah yes, i’ve been expecting a call from you…” you whisper so quietly instead, not caring if they’ve missed what you said. you’re hardly paying attention, choosing to wrap a fist around eijirou’s cock, slickly pumping him to prepare him to take you— he parts your thighs, eyes closing and body shuddering above you while you continue to converse with the board.

spreading the droplets of precum across his slit and iron hot tip, kirishima takes his cock from your grasp— heavily slapping it against your sensitive and swollen clit to see you jolt up the desk. “gonna fuck you so good miss, jus’ be good ‘n stay quiet for me okay?” he says, a whimper catching in the tail end of his words. you nod to him, rushed and way too eager, laying your head back on the hard wood your swimming gaze settles on kirishima as he taps the head of his cock against your hole, teasingly pushing it just past your entrance before withdrawing again.

‘ms. ln, are you still there? we really are pressed for time so we would love to start by discussing interviews for the next issue—‘

you forget that you’re still connected on the line, settling for wriggling impatiently underneath your intern, who’s caramel tinted skin glistens with sweat and his cheeks begin to flush with unadulterated desire— all from watching the way your puffy folds lube up his shaft with every push through them. you can see him losing his resolve, just as sensitive as you since he’s been holding back an orgasm and without the hint of a warning, eijirou’s hips jump forward and drive his cock into the deepest parts of your sex— brushing against your cervix. you gasp out in surprise, finally losing focus and barely manage a more comprehensive response to the board you have waiting on the line. “y-yes!— yes, yes, i’m still here… you may proceed with the meeting.”

he’s big, bigger than anyone you’ve ever had— and you’d seen a lot being a woman of your caliber this high up in the industry...but no one could compare to the way your sweet, doe eyed gentlemanly little intern filled you up, fat cock stretching your walls even with the shallow thrusts into your cunt he gives you to adjust. the weight of his girth sits heavily inside you, twitching as kirishima slides into you easily due to the stickiness lining your gummy walls, breath shaky and uneven as he holds out for you during this time. you can tell the poor boy isn’t going to last long, fingers sinking into your thighs with a harsh grip while he tries to hold himself back.

such a good boy, always waiting for your every command.

‘so we’d like to talk about the main feature for next month’s issue, do you have anyone in mind?’

the monotone voice of the board member is drowned about by kirishima’s shaky breaths above you, his pleading puppy dog eyes while he stills himself inside your spasming, puckered hole— he waits for permission, following orders like a trained pet even though he can hardly stand it, overwhelmed by the flutter of your sex around him and heat from your body despite thrown over the desk. “y-you’re s’warm...god ma’am...need to—need to move,” the redhead huffs weakly in order to keep himself quiet, a line of sweat dotting his brow. “please,”

you sit up on the desk, legs locking around his slender waist to draw him closer, sheathing more of the poor boy inside of you until he’s completely bottomed out and balls deep inside your pretty cunt. he drops his neck to your shoulder, tongue lolling over your salt licked skin before biting down to pacify himself, sharp teeth almost drawing blood while you adjust the cord of the phone. “i was thinking…thinking that we got the hockey player— the oylmpic champion…” your eyes drift to kirishima’s complacent face, giving him a nod to start moving while he sucks another bruise further down his onto your collarbone. “t-touya...touya todoroki—!”

you hiccup but play it off with a cough when kirishima pulls back his hips, so far that his girth completely leaves you, before he drives himself forward with one powerful thrust and fills you right up again. looking down, you see him bulge in your tummy, the line of his girth prominent against your body— slightly dwarfed in kirishima’s arms. you rock your hips, coaxing your intern into your warmth to help him build up a momentum of thrusts.

‘sounds like a good choice, do we have anyone who could interview him? i believe we can have PR set up an interview this week.’

the desk creaks below you, hard wood groaning along with the red head who hides himself in your neck, squeaking pathetically as he moves inside of you— precum smearing along your gummy walls that welcome his hardened shaft. your pussy opens up for eijirou like it’s welcoming him home, still growing used to the pleasure-filled burn and stretch of him pushing in and out of you. the nerves on his head catch amongst your inner ridges, making his toned body shake in ecstasy.

“m-ma’am, feel s’fucking good, so fucking good...” your intern hums against your salty skin mawkishly, large palms dropping to the flesh of your ass— kneading it to bring you closer to his body— cock barely leaving you due to your proximity. with slow strokes, eijirou fills you up, painting you with what leaks from his tip— prodding at your cervix and brushing up against your sweet spot in ways that make sweet nectar dribble from your hole.

your digits curl in his hair once more, the phone slipping from between your neck and creating rustling on your end. “eijirou,” you sigh breathily, humping back his cock while you squeeze around him selfishly, keeping your intern inside of you. “i-i mean eijirou kirishima, he’s an intern— such a… a good one at that…”

a immodest whimper brews in the base of eijirou’s throat, bubbling against his bruised lips  while you shower him with praise, indirect to him, hand snaking up to the back of your neck— tangling in your baby hairs as he pulls you up to a sloppy kiss, slotting your mouths together and running his tongue over yours. “f-fuck mommy, ‘m i your good boy? please tell me yes, fuck, yn— ma’am,”

kirishima’s voice rises in octave as it does devoir and pathos, vulnerability stays written across his handsome features as he succumbs to the mind break the heat of your damp, creamy core as he fucks into you. you throb at his use of mommy, shakily pulling the phone away from your ear to reach up to his own, nipping the earlobe and tugging on it gently. “you’re my good boy baby, keep being good eiji, be quiet...you gotta stay quiet if you want to keep fucking mommy okay? you wanna cum inside me right?” you say, words aberrant and low toned  on your tongue, your intern hisses and whines in response— nodding his head again and letting out a barely coherent ‘yes’. “then shh, baby, let mommy talk yeah?”

“hm’kay,” he babbles, dropping his ruby framed gaze to where your bodies meet, hiking your skirt further up your thighs to get a better view of your cunt staining his heavy balls with a layer of your slick.

‘ms. ln, are you sure that you want an intern to cover this case—’ the board begins to ask you, muffled from the distance away from you both.

picking up the phone again, you pull the line towards you again— mindful of capturing eijirou’s weak little mewls over the device as he languidly pumps himself in and out of you. “i know what i—fuck, what i want. eijirou, will be—oh— on the case. that's final.” you huff, watching your intern fall into a pussyhaze, his precious mind fogging with thoughts of only painting you white inside and out as a reward for helping relieve you of stress. the slow roll of his hips into yours are accompanied by the soft slaps of his skin against your own, wet and sticky— determination to make you feel good crackling across his mind.

‘there’s no need to curse, ma’am, do you need a moment to recollect yourself before we proceed with discussing the other features.’

“i’m fucking fine,” you growl, in anger or need you don’t know. but kirishima frowns, you can feel it as he start nosing up your cheek— swiping his tongue over areas of skin he hasn’t touched just yet— he grunts possessively , unhappy with the use of your title coming from anyone other than him. to prove his point, he pushes your thighs wider apart, letting you drip all over the documents sitting below your ass and ruining the ink— important or not he starts a brutal pace into your cunt and presses down on your tummy so you can feel exactly where eijirou is inside you and know that only he can make you feel this way.

‘ms.ln—‘

“i’m fine. keep going.” you grit your teeth, biting your lip to hold down your panting— again you don’t know who you’re speaking to. your intern who slows the movement of his hips, postponing in and out of your tightened hole, clamping down on him eagerly or the stupid board member giving you grief on the phone.

they proceed to talk, barking out suggestions to your sports magazine, that you hate— even considering bringing in good for nothing athletes who’d treated you like shit in the past, and you’d sworn to never work for them again.

but it’s almost silly, how kirishima lets out small moans of mommy and ma’am, trying to keep your attention on him like you would give up grinding down on your intern’s dick for some prissy member of the board over the phone— but you love the slight possession eijirou has over you, moulding your iron hot walls into the shape of his fat dick that presses up against your pleasure spots, makes you convulse and drawl and become addicted to everything that is him. eijirou kirishima.

“takin’ me so good, so well ma’am...don’t think i can hold on anymore…please,” eijirou warns you, losing control of his body as he takes you for his own like he’s done many times before after hours— your gazes lock, you can see his desperation to ruin you, moan for you despite the people on the phone and the people outside your office.

if he grows too loud, he could give you away— they could be listening in to your poor needy little intern humping you like a feral dog and whining your name. and as much as that thought makes your hole spasm around his fat cock, make his thrusts stutter and eyes screw shut while you moan in sweet, almost silent harmony, you love your job and so weakly, you take two of your fingers, shoving them deep into eijirou’s mouth as it hangs open in heavy pants of warm air. you press down on his wet tongue, fucking into his mouth in tune with the pace of his hips plunging deep within your walls, churning up your syrupy and sticky insides.

“keep quiet, baby,”  you hiss to the redhead, who’s eyes start to brim with fresh hot tears from the overwhelming pleasure. “let mommy take care of this, yeah? finish up so you can let it all out on me.”

he sucks on your fingers to calm himself down, shallow breathing while he paws at the flesh on your sides and circles his hips into yours— letting his leaky tip bare down on your sweet spot and forcing the air out of your body. white hot pleasure flashes through your bloodstream, replacing any air of professionalism flooding through them. you can’t, you physically cannot hold back either of your orgasms— you can’t concentrate as your mind starts to fall away with the world and your gaze hones in on the way kirishima takes your fingers in his hot mouth so deep in an attempt to hush himself.

the coil in your tummy begins to unwind and the room swims once more. ‘ms.ln is everything okay over there— we need to progress with his meeting if we’re—‘ the annoying board member sounds underneath kirishima’s sloppy groans, saliva dribbling down the sides of his mouth. your dirty, good boy.

“i’m going to need to take a rain—hah— a rain check on this meeting. you’ll hear from me when my interns and i are ready—“ you huff, cutting the staff off and quickly throwing the phone onto the hook, you’ll have keigo deal with the consequences later but for now you focus on kirishima who picks you up by the ass, lifting you up and down on his cock in frantic movements as he finally loses all connections to his control. “ohmygod—eiji baby, slow—fuck, down—“

he shakes his head, latching onto your collar bone as he revels in the way you leak down his shaft and drip between his balls, lewd squelching sounds fluttering through the air hot, sex scented air at full volume. “‘m sorry ma’am— i can’t… i’m really close, i really need’ta cum...please ma’am...mommy, i’ve been good—please let me cum...“ eijirou groans heartily, from deep in his chest as if he’s finally releasing what he’s been holding back— arms flexing and the sweat from his body slicking up your own.

limbs shaking you wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your foreheads against one another, while you nod. he worked so hard to make you feel good, all day long to do the best job that he can— pressing small kisses to his lips encouragingly. “you can do it baby, one last thing for me— fill me up eiji, cum for me.” you whisper between bites and sucks on his lower lip, lined with a vibrant shade of red.

“cummin’, cummin’...miss yn, mommy—!” and then his hips come to a halt, his dick pulsing as waves of his cream line your insides with an opaque white, thick and seeping down your thighs. his fingers drop to your sensitive cunt, slipping quick circles over your swollen clit to bring you to your high. his cock never stops pumping in and out of you, pushing his seed further into your sex while you writhe and fall over the edge into your orgasm— gushing so hard you force him out of plugged and full hole.

losing his strength, kirishima collapses on top of you, pressing out both to the hard wood seat which you’re surprised  is still standing, his lips pressing fleeting kisses across your face and neck while you both come back down to earth.

and then he looks up at you with a weak smile, “did i do good?” he asks you lazily and almost sleepily— refusing to budge from laying atop you and almost crushing you with his weight.

pushing back his hair to soothe him. “always eiji, you’re not my favourite intern for nothing,” you coo at him, pulling him up to press your lips to him in a soft kiss.

“i sure hope you don’t have any other favourites, i want to be the only one who assists you like this,” kirishima says, remaining tangled with you for a moment more in your office, content with snuggling into your exposed and bruised side.

you share a sleepy giggle, intending to clean up later— eijirou completely forgetting about the lunch he’d promised the other interns after your meeting.

oh well, assisting you was a much better treat than spending time with any one else.

[whirlybirbs]

FEVER-DREAM    ;    echo/reader 

summary: echo is fine-tuning his new prosthesis. you have experience, you help. unspoken feelings are acted on. adoration blooms. you learn what mesh’la means.

word count: 3k

pairing: echo / f!reader

tags: mutual pining, lots of tender looks, victorian-era hand-touching sluttiness, echo is a gentle soul, reader is head over heels, a touch of ptsd mention, set on ord mantell, mention of our boy fives, in this house we love assistive devices, enough sexual tension to power the death star

a/n: this is me round-house kicking the bad batch writers in the throat because they made echo cosplay a droid — but, also because this man deserves to be treated as more than a means to a mission’s end. majority of you know i am ~bitter~ (understatement of the century) of tbb’s plot/design/writing. but echo has been a favorite from the original days... so have some very soft fic.

i reference character redesigns by @nibeul​ in this piece — please go peep them here, and some updated character spreads here! they’re really beautiful and add a phenomenal layer of storytelling to the existing designs that’s lacking. nibuel’s art and writing is lovely. please give them a follow — i can’t rec their work enough. 

“How does it feel?”

The words are nearly whispered; it’s clear you didn’t want to startle him, and Echo can feel the pinch in his brow soften at your sudden appearence in the doorway. 

His bunk, at the back of the Havoc Marauder, is small — the space itself even more so. There’s a makeshift partition, hooked together with spare parts and meant to offer a bit of privacy on the cramped vessel. Its slate grey color has faded, and the edges have become tattered in the cycles of use. 

When Echo pulls his dark eyes up from his work, you’re leaning against the frame — your expression is earnest.

For a moment, the once-ARC Trooper is quiet. 

He wonders if he’ll ever get used to your attention. Each and every time, it sends him into a spiral; his heart catches as he inhales and tries to push down the warm stir in his gut. The sight of you is enough, nowadays, to melt Echo’s well-maintained irritability. His attention is stolen from his ever-present pain, if only for a bit.

There are plenty of days where he misses the old him — the wide-eyed, eager ARC Trooper who had his brothers by his side. His real brothers. Hevy, Cutup, Droidbait... Fives. 

Fuckin’ hell, Fives was probably staring down at him now laughing. 

No matter what changes, you’re still shit with the ladies, vod’ika. 

In a way he hasn’t fully admitted to himself, you make him feel like himself again. Like... Like some shiny cadet, on leave and distracted by the promises of pretty smiles passing-by. It’s good.

This makes him feel... good. 

He flexes, and his right hand — the new, gunmetal durasteel cyberized-prosthesis — closes into a tight fist. It’s taken him a bit, but the feeling isn’t so foreign now. It’s still... slow. Slower than he’s used to, but you’d mentioned it may take some time. The phantom feelings get better, too. All in all, it’s a good thing.

Your own hand, your left, glimmers back in the same gunmetal color.

(Echo had never pressed you about the missing limb — not until one day, in Cid’s, you’d joined him in a quiet corner. You’d spilled your drink and a complaint about getting the star-cherry syrup out of the joints had slipped out. Echo had laughed; a real laugh, the sort that was so rare coming from him, it had you staring at him as if he’d hung ever star in the sky. 

Can I ask how it happened? he’d said, breaking the heavy silence when your eyes never left his.

The Pykes, you’d said, and that was enough.)

“I haven’t, uh... Haven’t gotten the sensory calibration right yet.”

Then, his prosthesis cramps. His fingers go rigid, and Echo curses sharply as he reaches around his forearm to quickly reboot the appendage. It goes slack, then hums alive once more.

You wince.

You’re slow to move into the room — and you settle atop one of the crates Echo had stolen from the belly of the ship, an old Mantell Mix shipping container. You’re mindful to set his datapad aside, to not disturb his space too much. Before you reach for his hand, however, you lift your chin and open your hands in your lap.

“May I?” you ask, just as soft as before.

Echo feels small under your gaze.

Truth be told, you’re doing more than just... asking. You’re taking him in — appreciating him. It’s a habit that’s grown more and more apparent to not only himself, but the others.

In recent rotations, Echo has let his hair grow out — not long, but the once close buzz he’d kept has begun to curl at the top. Not entirely dissimilair to how it was before the Citadel. The dermal implants, the ones the Techno Union installed in order to parse the nuerological data in his head, stand out against his warm-colored skin. 

His usual AJ^6-inspired headpiece is resting on his bunk.

That damn thing.

A neccesary tool. One that, given the amount of user data Tech had procured when working on modifying the implant, Echo found himself immediately distrusting. It wasn’t as if the AJ^6 cyborg construct had a beautiful track record, and frankly, Echo would like to keep his personality in tact, thank you very much. There were plenty of days he felt machine enough. 

It wasn’t often you saw him without the headset; you knew it made linking in via his scomp easier to handle, it made the visualization of data transfers as easy as breathing. For Echo, it was a part of his vast kit, an important tool. For you, seeing him without it bubbles up a bit of a smile.

Echo catches it.

His eyes narrow playfully.

He looks... well. You — hell, are there words for it? For the way the sight of him makes you feel? It’s like there’s a world full of potential there, a thousand words unsaid, and feelings that have steeped in the warmth of longing gazes and half-there touches.

You’re still looking up at him, knees bent on the crate.

You blink, realizing you’ve been caught staring — not for the first time and certainly not for the last. In the beginning, it had left a sour taste in Echo’s mouth. But, now... Well, it stokes a sort of pride in his chest that he hangs onto. 

It never gets easier to recover from — certainly not when Echo smirks. He moves to allow you to take his prosthesis into your lap. The gesture is gentle; your fingers cradle the firm yet pliable metal.

“What?” he asks. His voice, low and rough and warm, is tinted with amusement.

“Nothing,” you say vaguely with a shrug — as if that’s supposed to explain any part of your enamored stare. Your attention moves to the prosthesis.

“Nothing?” he asks, moving to thumb his left ear with his free hand with a dash of nervousness. A habit. Echo tilts his head as his fingers brush the cochlear implant there. The panel rests neatly against the side of his head, a small rounded-off square. The bite of self-consciousness has dwindled around you — but still, it creeps back up every now and again.

The Corporal’s brows knot playfully as you turn his new hand over in your lap; you’re admiring the upgraded feel, the more seamless panelling in comparison to your own. Echo watches your lashes flutter in silent thought.

Then:

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

You blink slowly at the hand, swallow down your sudden sheepishness and ignore his gaze. You bite back the smile digging into your cheeks. “Maybe.”

“Do I have something on my face?” he asks suddenly, and you look up.

A baited trick. He’s smiling. 

The warm sort — the sort reserved for you and for Omega. The two souls that hold a piece of his heart, with all its ticking valves and electric timed pulses. There are machinisms that keep him alive, and then there is you. Your wide-eyed expression melts, giving way to the sort of smile he’s tried to memorize over and over. It’s the same smile that has warded off that reoccuring nightmare of the night on the tarmac at the Citadel, the same smile that has pulled him through the grit of phantom pains.

“What—” a sudden laugh bursts from your chest, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You were staring, mesh’la,” he rumbles out as a reminder, enjoying the fact he’s suddenly become the center of your attention. Echo leans back, his boot toeing yours. You nudge it back. Your face feels hot. You ignore his pointedly teasing look with a roll of your eyes.

The nickname started a few weeks ago. You haven’t asked what it means — no, for now it’s meaning hangs in the balance. Untouched but there. The affection the word carries makes your heart feel heavier and unbelievably full.

“Bad habit,” you chirp back, looking up at him through your lashes.

His laugh is warm.

“Maybe not.”

“No,” you say quietly; your voice is soft as your eyes bounce across his face, tracing the lines of his face with your gaze, “I don’t think it is.”

There’s a silence that slips between you — a comfortable one. It’s heavier than before. That has begun to happen recently, especially with the petal-soft utterance of mesh’la becoming more and more frequent. You hold his gaze. Echo lets out a soft, contented sigh.

Then, you remember the task at hand.

You clear your throat.

“Uh... The access panel I’m looking for,” you say slowly as your raise your finger to point to your own arm, “It’s on your bicep.”

Echo blinks. He clears his own throat before looking down — he hadn’t even noticed that access panel. That could explain the jarring miscommunication stalling the limb. This model had more bells and whistles than he initally realized. 

Better than a fuckin’ scomp link, that’s for sure.

Wordlessly, Echo makes room on his bunk. You move to settle beside him, your bent leg resting aginst his hip as you half-straddle the bed; your other knee brushes his thigh — and Echo tries to sit still. You’re close, now. 

“Is it okay if...?” you trail off, fingers tugging on the short sleeve of his blacks; you pause until Echo offers a curt nod. You catch him swallow. You push onward, fingers nimbly rolling the fabric up over his broad bicep. 

Echo steals a glance your way as your fingers pass across a slip of his bare skin. 

In his lap, both his hands twitch.

He’s no small man. Lean and athletic, Echo is built like a soldier. Omega had said once that Echo was an ARC Trooper, one of the best of the best. You believed every bit of it, and you’d hung on her words when she’d rambled on about ARC training, about Kamino, and about who Echo was before you knew him. It was all in the past, though. That Echo is a part of this Echo but... They’re different men. He’s been changed by the things that have happened.

You don’t press him on the details. 

In time, they’re slipped into conversation here and there — between the here and now.  

In the beginning, when you’d found yourself amongst the crew of the Havoc Marauder — be it for a simple job on Cid’s behalf — Echo had hardly paid you a moment of attention, though you admit you’d been curious from the start. It had taken three jobs for you to finally see his face. Then began the slow and gradual bonding over catching joints, grating plates, and hardware updates. His legs, your arm. Two pieces of a pair.

Now, he has this. A beautiful new upgrade — something he’s wanted for a long time. A part of his old self is back, in a way.

You liked that it was more than just a tool. That, in having this piece of his body back, he felt like more than a tool. More than a scomp link. 

After all, he is a man — a... a very handsome man. One whose proximity is sort of distracting you, again, from the task at hand.

“The panel here,” you say as you slowly press on the seam that enables the settings panel to be revealed; you’re mindful to explain, “It controls sensory outputs, as well as synchonized synaptic commands. The panel on my forearm does the same to my hand, yours is just... well, you’ve got the new and improve version.”

Echo ducks his head as you work, watching you from the corner of his eye. “Feeling a bit jealous, mesh’la?”

“Maybe,” you breathe out with a smile. 

Then, you lift your eyes. You intended to see that he was still comfortable, but instead you come face to face with the Corporal. His nose nearly brushes yours when you lift you chin, completely dragged in by the closeness shared.

There’s a beat of tension. Echo’s mouth goes dry.

You fingers pause. You swallow hard. “How... uh, how does it feel?”

Echo tightens his grip, then releases. His breath tickles your cheeks. His eyes, a deep, warm brown, flit from your eyes to your mouth, and then back. His voice is a croak. 

“...Same as before.”

You tinker with a dial, eyes never leaving his; your voice is above a whisper. “And now?”

It’s immediate. Like a rush of cold air up his arm — and on instinct, Echo’s hand twitches. His fingers grip the fabric of his blacks, along his thigh, and... he feels it. The smooth, stretch of the material. It’s... it feels like a lot. His fingertips, metallic and cyberized, tingle. It’s distracting.

He can feel. 

His hand is slow. It moves across to bridge the space between you. His pointer finger settles on the curve of your knee; the feeling of your tactical pants beneath his fingertip is ignored, instead he chases the heat of your body.

Your breath catches at the touch. 

Echo’s face is turned to you, but... his attention has settled on his hand. His palm then sweeps across your thigh. He follows the curve, soaks in the feeling. You’re frozen in place, beating back the desperate sound of appreciation that threatens to be pulled from your throat. The touch is... more than welcomed. 

The closeness itself is making you dizzy.

Then, Echo turns — and the warm, durasteel-plated palm finds your cheek.

Your skin is hot. 

“Is this okay, mesh’la?” he whispers, words riding on a quiet exhale — the sort that make you feel... well, you don’t even have words for the way he makes you feel. Echo is... kind, honest, and loyal. Above all else, he’s gentle. Despite it all, despite every bit of horror he’d been put through, he’d never lost sight of the importance of a gentle hand. Especially now in a moment as intimate as this. It coaxes you closer.

You lean into the cybernetic attachment, cheek resting in his palm. You nod, then, with eyes eager to take in every bit of this moment.

He chuckles at the enthusiasm. Echo’s thumb, deft and smooth, then traces the line of your lower lip.

The feeling is... the gnawing pain that he’s felt for nearly a year has melted. Finally, the itch has been scratched in his brain and the hollow ache of his bones is gone. It’s relief, and comfort, and excitement and all these beautiful things — and you. 

You’re stuck — you don’t want to move, you won’t move. He’s rooted you completely, and when his other hand — the calloused and warm one of flesh and blood — finds it’s spot along your thigh, you swallow a lovesick sigh that would only exaserbate your desperation. 

Your mouth is moving before you realize it. 

“What does it mean?”

Echo’s eyes narrow, only a bit, and he runs his thumb up your cheekbone.

“What does what mean?” 

“Mesh’la,” it sounds foreign on your tongue. It’s not Hutteese or Twi’leki, not like any language you know, “Will you tell me what it means, Echo?”

The corner of his lips quirk. Your eyes jump to it.

You feel like someone’s reached right into your chest and given your heart a squeeze — and it only worsens when he laughs. He laughs, deep and quiet and warm, like a thunderstorm on a summer night. It feels cruel, to string you along like this when you’re here, lips parted, hanging off his every touch and his every word.

“Beautiful,” he says quietly as his other hand touches your jaw — it’s so damn reverent, this little moment in time, that you almost don’t believe it’s real.

It feels like a dream — like someone has come in and stolen your thoughts from you; like the unrequited yearning has finally stoked a fire large enough to burn you up entirely, a fever you never knew you wanted.

His nose brushes yours.

Your fingers wind into the fabric of his chest. You’re clinging, lost to the moment — and you can’t help wonder if this is how it feels when he catches you adoring him. He’s admiring you so tenderly that you nearly break.

You want to kiss him.

He’s thought about nothing but kissing you for the last five days at least. Longer in his dreams. Nowadays, it’s a constant pull, a constant want.

And now, it’s here — a present and current moment where it can happen. Where he can stop being a shiny cadet and he can make a move...

Enter Omega.

“Echo, we’re back—!”

The telltale hammer of a girl’s boots on the floor signals that the party is back from their supply run — but you’re so far off, spinning in a different universe, you don’t even hear her until its too late... Until Echo is yanking himself away and clearing his throat and rolling his wrist to test the prosthesis in a different way, a less intimate way. 

You blink, then rattle yourself back to the present. Omega is in the doorway staring with a quizzical look. Clearly, your state does little to dissuade the assumptions she’s already making and you can see the gears turning in her head. The dark-haired girl then slowly grins.

“Hi.”

You swallow. “Hi, Omega.”

“...Whatcha guys doin’?”

Echo coughs. “Uh, just fine-tuning the new upgrade.”

“...Riiiiiight.” 

You rub your cheeks and laugh — clearly forced and incredibly pained — as you stand up and nearly ram your head right into the top of Echo’s bunk. It’s met with a hiss of warning from the trooper as he jumps up to try and protect you from the impact. 

“Well! Uh, thanks for letting me help, Echo,” you clap, rocking back and forth on your boots, “I, uh... Oh, Cid called. I should... I should get back—”

“Yea,” he says, straining a bit to find the words, “Yea, I’ll... I’ll comm you if it starts to, uh... If it starts to act up?”

Omega watches the exchange, big brown eyes moving from left to right. 

“Good, great — yea, that’s,” you inhale as you rub your thighs and move towards the door, “Perfect. Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Bye!” Omega calls, waving.

You wave back, smiling. “Bye, Omega.”

Then, once it’s only Echo and Omega in the bunk, the tween speaks.

“...What the kriff was that?”

[bl00dgutsgl0ry]

I was wondering if you could do Jealous Diluc headcannon but add a lil ✨spice✨ cough cough overstimulation- 😫😫

IM SORRY ITS TAKEN ME SO LONG TO DO THIS I PROMISE IM WORKING ON REQUESTS i just keep jumping back and forth between different ones and then regular fics im planning

diluc is a jealous man, he's just exceptional at hiding it. he trusts you 100% it just irks him watching people oogle over you.

watching as drunkards from his bar try desperately to impress you slowly but surely makes his blood boil, causing him to progressively get more and more irritated. still that stone front stays up; at least for now it does.

its does make him feel better watching you curve all advances made towards you as you continue to keep your attention locked on him; only diverting to dismiss someone talking next to you. you normally love chatting with the people of mondstat but the people who stay late at the bar aren't really your kind of crowd.

once diluc finally kicks out the last customer and the doors are all locked up, you don't even have time to think before dilucs hands are on you gripping you in anyway he can get at.

you know when he gets jealous, it's actually quite easy to tell when the two of you are alone together. hes rougher, more aggressive, more needy, desperately needing to be in contact with you at all times.

“you don’t understand how hard it is to bite my tongue when i see all those drunkards around you. their pitiful displays to try to impress you are for naught. you’re always gonna be mine. ill always be yours.”

dilucs kisses involve more teeth, biting your bottom lip on more than one occasion.

“i want to have you shaking and begging for me, screaming my name, show the archons that even they can't take you from me.”

its very easy to get you there, as he fucks you in the wine cellar, forcing you to cum over and over until you can't form sentences, and you have tears streaming down your face.

you have bite marks and hickies all over your body, while dilucs has red and angry scratch marks all over his muscular back.

“d… d i cant take it. it- oh shit.. way too much.” your whimpers and cries fall on deaf ears as diluc rams into you at a punishing pace, causing you to dig your nails into his back as you get closer and closer to another orgasm. you’ve lost track mentally but you knew you'd need at least two hands to count. your words quickly become incomprehensible as you lose yourself in the pleasure, dilucs large dick sliding against your walls deliciously. all you could say now were his name and jumbled slurred sentences.

not much could be heard over your loud moans as you came for another time that night. you heard a low groan as diluc pulled out and came all over your abdomen. a few pieces of his long red hair had fallen out of his now loose low ponytail, the beautiful crimson strands cascading over his shoulders and back, his bangs sticking to the sweat on his forehead.

exhaustion finally takes over diluc, as he takes pity on you and comes to a stop, the sheen of sweat highlighting his large chest under the warm yellow light of the candles that illuminated the cellar.

despite the obvious fatigue, diluc still takes the time to get a warm damp cloth to clean you both up with. he starts with you, as you let out a content sigh of relief from feeling clean once again. the subtle sting of the bite marks subsiding.

once the two of you are sufficiently clean, he helps you get dressed, his touch the polar opposite of what it once was earlier that night. hes gentle and soft; maneuvering you around as if you were a porcelain doll he was afraid to drop.

finally you two leave the tavern, making the short walk to your abode in mondstat, not having the energy to make the trek all the way to the winery at this time.

its not too bad when diluc gets jealous.

[kaitsawamura]

would you like to stay forever?

SUMMARY⎮   Sparring with Pro Hero Kirishima Eijiro in his private gym at his home doesn't seem like a bad idea if you don't count the fact that you really, really like him.

STATS⎮ minors do not interact, 18+ ⎮  Rating: M (for mature)  ⎮  WC: 5525  ⎮   Pairing: Pro Hero Kirishima Eijiro x Fem!Reader  ⎮   Tags: Aged Up Character(s), Friends to Lovers, Sparring, Smut, Fluff, Age/Experience Gap (if you really squint)  ⎮  AO3

NOTES⎮  Thanks to @spacelabrathor​ for listening to me scream about this and to @some-kindofgnome​ for fueling my Kiri fever dreams.  Yes, that title is based on a Mulan quote. This whole fic was based on THIS POST and Kirishima seemed like the perfect character for this pwp.  Hope y'all enjoy!  (Also please for the love of God, click on the banner to see in HD if you’re on mobile, it looks so much better lol)

It was Saturday and even though you’re on your way to becoming a Pro Hero, you can think of several things you’d rather be doing with your one day off than going to Kirishima Eijiro’s house to spar.  But here you are pulling into his driveway, going over combat moves in your head as if your life depended on it.  They weren’t really serving their purpose which was to distract yourself.  Kiri had offered up his personal gym, encouraged you to stop by with one hand in his pocket and the other rubbing the back of his neck as if he was nervous.  

A couple of his friends had already taken him up on the offer.  You were the only one he’d offered who hadn’t come over yet.  He had texted you a couple of weeks later saying he was starting to take it personally…  and then immediately texted with a laughing emoji just to clarify he was only giving you a hard time.  It brings a smile to your face now as you remember it.  Yesterday he had also clarified it would just be the two of you if you were self-conscious sparring in front of other people.  You’d have the whole place to yourselves.  Like that should mean something.  Which it did.  It does , you realize with butterflies growing in your stomach.  Kiri doesn’t need to know that though.

The two of you had been toeing around something since you had been hired at Fatgum’s Agency a year ago.  Neither of you had made a move.  Kirishima, the Red Riot, was a big Pro Hero and while you took pride in your quirk, it didn’t hold a coin to some of the others you’d come in contact with.  It had surprised you when Toyomitsu had brought you on.  But he had mumbled something about “liking your spunk” and that he thought a teleportation quirk would be a useful one to add to his agency.  The first day you had shown up, Kiri had immediately caught your eye.  Not for the obvious reasons.  Obvious reasons being the fact that he was climbing the Pro Hero charts or the fact that he had a dynamically interesting quirk or that at twenty-five he was already built like a brickhouse. 

Those were all valid reasons, yes, but what had pulled you in was his smile and his genuine interest in you outside of your quirk.  But he was just like that you had quickly discovered.  He knew everyone’s coffee order and what they liked for lunch.  He knew when to push and when to back off.  He knew when to talk and when to listen , knew when he still had a lesson to learn.  The kids flocked to him.  Even now you’re still entirely convinced that’s actually his quirk, getting people to like him.  It’s not a difficult thing to do though.

Your brain stutters back to the present when a text notification pings from your cell phone as you sit in Kiri’s driveway, picking at non-existent lint on your gym shorts.  The cute ones you’re still convincing yourself were your only clean pair and that’s the only reason you wore them.

KIRI : i saw u pull up, u gonna come in or what 😂

Had he been waiting for you to get there?  You tapped out a quick response, one that hid the little flip in your stomach at the thought: creeper, you were watching for me lmao

Response bubbles immediately flash on your phone screen but you’re angling out of your car and shutting the door before he can reply.

Somehow, this house fits Kiri perfectly.  It isn’t big.  You had seen pictures of other top-ranking Pros’ houses.  Enji Todoroki’s house, for example, was fucking ridiculous.  But even without a massive floor plan, Kiri’s house is nicer than any you’d been in for some time.  Clean, straight lines and lots of windows.  In fact, you can see straight through the floor-to-ceiling windows out to his backyard when you reach the front door.  Is that a pool ?  Kiri had tons of fun showing pictures at the agency; it was a well-deserved investment for his already multiple years of service as a Pro.  The pictures hadn’t done the place justice though.

Kiri comes to the door, throwing it wide open with a huge grin that shows off his sharp teeth.  You ignore the way your mouth goes dry as he drags you in, babbling on like an excited little kid at you actually coming.

“I really thought you were gonna back out!  I mean, that would have been fine, of course.  I just can’t see the point of having the whole place to myself all the time.”  He’s irresistibly cute, walking around showing you the living room and the kitchen and pointing out to the backyard where, yes, there is indeed a pool.  “You can come over any time and use that too if you want!”  You thank him, warmth pooling in your stomach at how incredibly nice he is.

“Uh, we should probably get in the gym.  I have… stuff to do later,” you finish lamely.  You don’t have anything to do later but very quickly you’re realizing how far out of your depth you are here.  The familiar beginnings of the head over heels fall is washing over you in steady waves.  But you’re coworkers and the thought of coming to work every day and having to see his adorable face and not doing anything about it is almost making you nauseous.

“Oh, yeah, it’s just down the hallway,” he rumbles, leading the way and you follow trying and failing miserably to calm the nerves flashing through your veins.  You’re here alone with Kiri , the man you’ve been crushing on since you’d started working with him a year ago.  And now your stupid brain isn’t just thinking about what it would feel like to run your tongue along his teeth or how his hands would feel between your legs.  No, your stupid brain is thinking about what Kiri looks like when he first opens his eyes in the morning.

Your one-track mind is not getting any help, especially when Kiri walks through the doorway of the gym addition and immediately proceeds to pull his shirt up and over his shoulders and tosses it to the side.  Shit.  His back muscles ripple with the movement and when he turns to face you, it’s heart-wrenchingly obvious that he has no idea the effect he’s having on you.  He has to know .  Doesn’t he?  From your end, it seems wildly obvious that someone as good-looking as him should know .  

You glance around, eternally grateful for the fact that the gym is also attractive.  Floor to ceiling windows span two of the walls here as well and there’s a large set of French doors leading out to the yard.  You find yourself actually in awe when you get a better look at the landscaping.  It’s so green .  There’s a small patch of lawn but the rest is just artfully arranged native flora and fauna.  Violets, tulips.  Huge hosta plants.  And cherry trees heavy with their signature sakura blossoms.  

“Kiri, it’s beautiful!”  He comes to stand beside you, looking out the French doors as well.

“You like it?  I guess it is pretty nice, huh?”  You glance up at him, your chest expanding on a lurch looking at his smile.  You’d never noticed before but he has a light dusting of freckles across his nose.

“Yeah, really nice.”  You look out again, letting the silence grow until it feels like the most comfortable thing in the world.  After what seems like an eternity Kiri clears his throat, rocking back on the balls of his feet.  “What are you thinking for today?”  The question leaves your lips and you’re immediately regretting it; your stomach flips again when Kiri looks at you like you’re prey.

“Close combat, hand-to-hand combat.  You did mention a while ago you wanted to strengthen that, right?”  You throw your head back, rolling your eyes, and groan.  The two of you make your way to the center of the mat.

“Yeah, I mean, I’d be scared to take me on too,” Kiri says, large hands on even larger hips.   He isn’t as tall as some of the other heroes at six foot three inches but he’s wide , thick.  You know for a fact you couldn’t wrap your arms around his waist and have your hands meet.  He’s wearing the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen.  The sharpened points of his canines are out and on prominent display.   Famous last words you think as a snarl erupts on your face.

“I’m not scared , Kiri.  I just don’t want to wear you out .  You’re a Pro Hero.  You’re on the job a lot more than I am.  Plus, you’re getting kind of old.  Is that a little gray I see coming in?”  Kiri bares his teeth even more but it’s not lost on you that he quickly reaches up to rake his fingers through his hair.  There isn’t any gray, obviously , but the thought has Red Riot distracted.  Distracted enough that when you plant your feet and your fist connects with his face, your knuckles hit skin and not the reinforced rock of his quirk.

“ Shit.”  Kiri takes a step back, reaching up to cradle his jaw.  His tongue swipes out to lick at the blood on his bottom lip.  His vermillion eyes find yours and if you didn’t work with him on a regular basis, you would have felt fear at this moment.  You know he wouldn’t hurt you but even now, a thrill races through your veins like electricity.  He looks as if he’s going to devour you.  You take your own step back, readying your quirk, reaching out to it as your fists hold their position in front of your body.  A dark chuckle spills from his chest as Kiri calls on his own quirk.

Now it was your turn to be distracted; you had always been fascinated by Kiri’s quirk, the way his body looked when it hardened up.  The ripples of muscle still visible under the toughened skin.  The divots and ridges and how they mapped their way across his shoulders and chest and abdomen.  You knew how it felt to the touch in fake combat.  The Fatgum heroes all took pride in maintaining a healthy routine; sparring was a common workout that was previously done at a local public gym.  You wonder absently what it would feel like to touch him slow and at the moment.  When you could give extra attention with extra time. 

Kiri closes the space between the two of you at the moment your mind strays and you barely are able to teleport out of the way to avoid him crashing into you.  You try to take a swipe at him as you materialize from in front of him to behind but this time he’s ready for you and he’s using his quirk.  Instead of moving out of the way, he plants his feet and allows your punch to hit.  Pain radiates up through your fingers and wrist.  It always irritated you that you had to prepare yourself to strike Kiri when he was using his quirk.  Otherwise, you’d be in for a whole lot of hurt every time you landed a punch.

Teleportation is a pretty handy quirk.  It gives you a pretty good advantage the more you work on your close combat skills.  The trick with Kiri was to keep going at him until he ran out of energy.  You hadn’t gotten to that point yet; your quirk had its limits as well.  You were only two years out of UA, Kiri was out by seven.  His strength was already fairly unmatched; sparring with him was always good practice.  You relish the thought of the day you can win a sparring session without tapping out.  It surges through you like pure energy.  

You teleport to stand in front of him again, shifting your weight into your hips and up through your right hook.  This time your fist connects with Kiri’s side and he lets out a small grunt.  Your fingers don’t hurt so bad this time and by the time Kiri is retaliating, you jump back a few feet.  He hmms, a sound that reverberates from his chest.

“That’s all well and good but how do you expect to do anything if you jump that far away?”  He lunges forward at a running start, leaping at the last second, sending his gloved fist into your stomach.  You were fast, but still not always fast enough.  You double over, the air rushing from your lungs and your pre-workout protein smoothie threatening to exit back the way it went in.  Sweat is already beading on your brow and sliding under your tank top.  You take a few breaths through your nose when an idea pops into your head; you stay bent over.  “Hey, I didn’t hit you that hard.  You good?”  

Kiri comes to stand in front of you, leaving him vulnerable.  He can’t see your smirk until it’s too late.  You wail on him, using some of the basic combos he’s taught you before today.  Satisfaction rolls through you when he actually takes a step back.  But then he puts his arms up in front of him, clenching his abdomen and bending inward to protect his core.  He drops just a fraction and before you realize what’s happening, he’s swiping his leg out to push through yours.  You watch in slow motion as you see his laughing face then the ceiling of the gym as you flip and land on your back.

If you thought you were out of breath before…  “Fuuu-.”  It’s a wheeze that feels like it’s ripping your chest open.  You’re seeing stars.  Kiri stands over you, hands on his hips again.  You stare at his face; the hero has his hair pulled back into a bun.  You snort, rolling your eyes.  Why does he still look so fucking good?  The sweat has caused some of the pieces falling out of his hair tie to curl.  His hair has curl to it?  You’ve never noticed before, considering he always gels it into spikes.  You like the curl.  “Are you--are you gonna help me up, or what?”  It was still painful to talk.

Kiri tilts his head to the side, just slightly, and crosses his arms.  “I’m thinking not.  Last time I let down my guard you got those good combos in.”  You stare in stunned silence, sitting up so you’re supported by your elbows.  Kiri shifts slightly and if you didn’t know better, you’d say he’s backing up to… get a better view.   

“Is that any way to treat your student,  Red Riot?”  You know you get under his skin when he clicks his tongue against his teeth and holds out a hand with a begrudging eye roll.  He pulls you up with ease, quickly enough that you almost lose your balance, swaying into his space.  You look up, eyes moving back and forth between his.  

He draws in a breath and drags his bottom lip between his teeth.  “First of all,” he says as he places his hands on your upper arms, “I’m not your teacher.  I’m not that much older than you.  Secondly,” he mutters as he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear, “our relationship isn’t that formal is it?”  He’s so fucking close.  This is getting dangerous.  Dangerous because Kiri is within kissing distance.  Dangerous because this gentle side of him is making you lose more breath than falling on your ass.  Dangerous because the thought of Kiri taking you on the floor right now is almost too much to bear.  

So you fall back on what you’re here to do.  Fight.  You flash him a wicked smile before rallying your quirk and teleporting a few feet away.  His hand is still raised in mid-air and when his head whips to look in your direction, his crimson eyes are narrowed and his nostrils are flared.  He laughs and rolls his neck, dancing on his toes.

“Okay.  I see.  I’m not gonna go easy on you, you know?”  You snort and put your fists up in front of you again.

“As if you were going easy on me before, Kiri.  Bring it on.”  He smiles, the sharp points of his teeth enough to make your thoughts swerve again before you bring them under control.  “Bring it on,” you whisper more to yourself as you brace for the fight.

Two hours later, you feel the strain in your muscles.  Your quirk is running low on reserves and you know you won’t be able to use it much more.  Kiri looks like he hasn’t wasted a breath but you can see he’s getting tired in the way his feet don’t move as sharply.  And if the length of time he’s using his quirk is any indication to his state of mind, you know the two of you will be calling it a day soon.  But you’re also both stubborn.  And you’re dying to get one more good move in on him.

The cockiness the two of you had at the beginning of the sparring session hasn’t gone away but has burned hot into determination.  No more smiles, only clear-headed concentration.  The two of you are an arm's length from each other, throwing various punches and switching quickly between using your quirks and not.  You’re breathing hard, sweat gathering at your brow as you throw another right hook that Kiri easily blocks.

“Get out of your head.  You can be too predictable sometimes.”  He doesn’t mean for it to come across as rude but the words strike a match to a guttering fire.  You bare your own teeth at Kiri even though they aren’t sharp and probably don’t look nearly as threatening but it helps you feel powerful nonetheless.  You drop without a second thought, lowering to your palms and sweeping your leg out in front of you in a wide arc.  A grin spreads across your face when your calf meets Kiri’s ankle.  He’s too physically dense for this move to work if he had seen it coming.  But he doesn’t.  And his solid 220 pounds of muscle falls hard.  

You allow yourself the satisfaction of the moment for only a split second; Kiri’s recovery time is much shorter than yours so it isn’t long before he’s scrambling forward.  He goes straight for your wrists to subdue you but with a smirk, you realize in his haste he’s put himself in the perfect position for you to possibly gain the upper hand.  You scoot up away from him just enough to drag his arm forward and swing your legs around his neck.  Then you elevate your hips and lock your core.

It’s over from there as you squeeze with every last ounce of strength left in your body.  It doesn’t take long for him to tap out.  You release as soon as you feel his loose hand tap your arm; he collapses over you and you’re too tired to move away or push him off.  Now his breathing is rough and you feel a surge of pride.  You reach up and place your hand on his head where his bun has come undone; he’s so heavy but it doesn’t feel bad.  In fact, the feel of Kirishima resting his head and upper chest on your stomach is feeling nothing short of good .  He’s still between your legs and suddenly the air is crackling with a new kind of energy when you gently comb your fingers through his hair.

He rises up, his hands on either side of you.  His hips rest between your legs; the mingled heat radiating from both of you is almost more than you can take but there is no way you’re going to move anywhere.  He leans forward, so close you can see the flecks of burnt orange in his eyes.  If you moved forward just a little, you could close that space between you.  He leans down more, his mouth right next to the shell of your ear.

“Maybe not always predictable.  You did good today.  Probably some of the best fighting I’ve seen from you so far.  Keep it up.”  He grunts, a shift of his hips allowing the curve of his cock to brush against your clothed sex through his gym shorts.  He stiffens in what you think might be embarrassment.  “Shit, sorry, let me just, uh--”  The stuttering mess he becomes right before your eyes makes something lurch in your chest; you reach for his face without thinking.

“Kiri,” you whisper, rolling your own hips against his.  His cheeks are burning a shade of red almost as vibrant as his hair.  You bring up your other hand, holding his face between them and bringing him down to settle over you once more.  Your lips meet his; he seems to war with himself for just a moment.  A suspended second in time.  But then he gives in, slipping his tongue against yours in a delicious sliding vision of what’s coming.

He reaches between you to slip his hand under your tank top; his hand is big and nearly encompasses your side.  But it’s warm and gentle.  Gentle.  Who would have guessed that Red Riot could be so fucking gentle?  But he is and when his hand moves lower to slide below the hem of your shorts, you give yourself to him with no reservations.  His middle finger passes through the mess of your sex; a hissed breath rattles through his chest as your back arches on a ragged groan.

“ Shit.  You’re so wet .”  He slides his finger back and forth, gathering your slick on the thick digit.  He takes his hand away and you mewl.  “Can I?”  He asks breathlessly as he hooks his hands on the hem of your shorts.  You nod, eyes half-lidded.  He pulls them down along with your underwear and the way he looks at you, at what’s between your legs, you don’t even have the wherewithal to feel self-conscious.  Adoration.  It’s the only word you can think of and it makes you wonder if you’d made a mistake waiting so long.

He’s on his knees when he takes your legs and drapes them on either side of his hips; this time he doesn’t hesitate in slipping his finger into your cunt.  You nearly see stars just from that and if one finger is any indication, you’re in for it.  Slowly, he adds another, his hand pumping into you in a steady rhythm.  You’re grabbing for the ground, grabbing for him as a strangled noise pushes from your throat.  He reaches out with his other hand to splay it across your sternum and it’s the only thing anchoring you as he adds the third finger before scooting down to put his mouth on your clit.

“ Kiri,” you keen, shoving your hips into his touch, frantically scrabbling for his wrist that’s on your chest just to have something to hold on to.  He’s done this before, he’s had to.  He’s too good.  Too fucking good.  Already there’s coiling in your gut as incomprehensible words tumble from your mouth.  “Shit.  Shit.  Kiri I’m--I’m gonna--”  He rumbles approvingly against your clit; the vibrations send you closer and closer to the edge and when it crests, your back arches near pain as you cry out, your voice echoing in the gym.  It’s deep, roaring through all of your limbs but  Kiri keeps going, fingers still pumping, tongue still swirling around your sensitive nub.

Another orgasm breaks over you sharp and quick and the overstimulation has your legs quaking as your arousal gushes over Kiri’s hand and tongue.  But then he’s moving again, and you’re blearily aware that he’s shoving his own shorts and boxers past his hips to free his cock.  You stare as it bounces back to sit near the planes of his stomach; it’s already leaking steadily with precum.  Kiri looks back at you and when your eyes meet, you dart your tongue out between your lips to wet them.  Another time, maybe.  

Kiri leans forward to lift you up and the closer you get you can barely see any red in his eyes; his pupils are blown, his nostrils flared as he lifts you like you weigh nothing .  He could snap you like a twig.  But he won’t.  You know without a doubt this is the safest you’ve ever felt, even as he lowers you slowly over his cock and it does feel like you’re being split .

“ Fuuuck…”  You wrap your legs around him, your mouth dropped open, your hands gripping his shoulders.  You try not to dig your nails in but it’s almost impossible with how you’re being filled.  You knew Kiri was big but this was almost too much.  His forehead drops to yours as he pants.  But he’s not moving, won’t move until you tell him to.  It makes your heart ache and your cunt floods, drunk on the affection thrumming through your veins.  You roll your hips experimentally and the friction is bliss.  “Oh fuck, ohfuck.”  You move again, pushing yourself up and back down, listening to the hitch in his breathing.  “ Kiri, please, ” you whisper.  Those words… they’re enough.

Kirishima grips you by the hips, his fingers splayed and digging into the flesh; it’ll leave bruises and the knowledge cracks through you like electricity.  Let him leave marks.  Let him leave them everywhere.  He’s moving you up and down his cock, grunting, mumbling.  “Tell me, Kiri, tell me.”  His eyes meet yours again and his own mouth drops open.

“Fuck, you’re so good.  S’ tight.  Jesus, I-- ” Kiri moves his hands from your hips to support you as he lays you down on the floor of the gym.  The idea should be questionable but it’s not, it’s fucking not and you can’t concentrate on any other thoughts when Kiri grabs your wrists and pins them gently above your head with one hand while the other comes back to your hip.  He thrusts into you at a brutal pace but… it feels like home and you think in that moment as your cunt begins to seize around his cock that you would give up forever to continue touching him.

“Yes, Kiri, yes.  Right there, right--shit yesyes yes. ”  He pistons up, the veins of his cock rubbing just right and when he releases the grip on your hands, they’re moving to wrap around him on instinct.  He’s planting kisses along your jaw, mouthing up to your lips and back down to graze his teeth over your pulse point.  “Do it, fuckin’ do it, let them know ‘m yours, ” you slur and when he bites down you crash over the edge on a groan that’s really more of a scream.  Everything goes black but you're cradling him to you as his movements become more erratic.  The snapping of his hips is getting sloppier by the second and a steady growl punches from his lungs with each breath.  “Cum, Kirishima, cum inside me.”

He’s never heard those words before and it lights a fire in his veins.  His head is buzzing and then he can’t hear anything as his cock releases and he’s spurting searing hot ropes of cum into your cunt.  He goes until you’ve milked every last drop from him and he’d be lying if he said his world didn't suddenly feel whole.  Finally, his body settles and his chest drops to yours.  Everything slowly bleeds back into focus and somehow, everything seems more colorful than it did moments before.  You’re still clinging to him.

“Kiri.  Kiri, babe, I can’t breathe,” you say and he slowly rises, taking in your blissed-out expression.  Your eyes can barely stay open, your cheeks are flushed.  He backs up to see his handiwork on display, hyper-focused on the trail of the mingling cum dripping from the mess of your sex.  But you’re smiling.  Lazy and tired, completely at ease.  “Wanna take a shower?”  When you nod he doesn’t hesitate in standing to kick his underwear and shorts the rest of the way off his legs and then he’s grabbing you, scooping you into his arms and against his chest.  He pads out of the gym and across the hall to his bathroom where he deposits you on your feet, only after he’s sure you can stand and only long enough to turn the shower head-on.

He puts his hand under the water, waiting for it to get warm.  Steam billows from behind the glass door when he’s turning back to you to remove your tank top and your sports bra.  Thank god you chose the front-closure one today; you didn’t think either one of you wanted to struggle to get one up over your head right now.  When your breasts spill out of the high-impact fabric, you notice with tender amusement that his cock is half-hard again.  His eyes go dark again and he leans in for a kiss.  But it's slow and sweet. 

"You're so fuckin' beautiful," he whispers.  He ignores his arousal, ushering you into the stream of water.  Your care is the only thing that matters to him right now.  The heat slides across your body, and when Kirishima steps up behind you and begins soaping up your shoulders, it feels like heaven .

You take turns washing each other until you’re both blissed out in a different kind of way and the only thing either one of you can think about is sleep.  But the afterglow is fading and doubt is creeping in.  When you step out of the water, you stand awkwardly as Kiri hands you a towel.  “You okay?”  He’s actually concerned and you can’t put your finger on why you’re so fucking grateful for it.

“Yea, just tired.  I should, uh, probably get going.”  Kiri freezes and you think you’ve said something wrong, already crossed a line.  Your brain is like a broken record as the stomach-curdling image of having to see him at the agency flashes across your eyes in vivid detail.  But then he’s stepping into your space and pulling you in for a hug.  A hug.

“Don’t go,” he whispers into the crown of your head and it has you smiling like an idiot against his chest.  His skin smells clean and warm with a hint of spice.  You bury your face further in as you nod against him.  Then he’s leading you to his room, to the king-sized bed.  He peels back the comforter and the white sheets and pulls you in beside him.  Your back is against him and he hooks his foot around your ankles, bringing you even closer.  

He doesn’t say anything more, just lets out a huge sigh as he wraps his arm around you.  The last thing you notice before your eyes flutter shut is how your heartbeats are thumping at the same steady rhythm.  

Late afternoon sunlight slants in Kirishima’s bedroom window, creating interesting patterns across his blanket.  It’s pushed towards the end of the bed, your legs intertwined and tangled in the sheets.  He’s still dozing, his breathing not quite that of someone sleeping but not of a person fully awake.  You reach out to cup his cheek, stroke above his eyebrows, caress his lips with your thumb.  A contented sigh leaves his chest as he grabs your hand and kisses your wrist.  His eyes are open now and he watches you.  You smile at him, snuggling closer, not wanting the moment to end.

“Hey,” he says quietly, suddenly serious.  “I just want you to know, I don’t do this all the time.  I mean, I’ve been with other people before but I don’t…  I don’t really hook up .”  Things start clicking into place as you realize what he’s trying to get across.  He just fucked you stupid in his personal gym and somehow he looks bashful.  And because you love it, you’re not going to help him along.  You just watch, biting your lip to keep from giggling.  “I just.  I guess what I’m trying to say is I like you.  I’ve liked you for a long time.  And normally I would have wined and dined you first but...  Well.  Here we are.  Would you like to stay for dinner?”

That’s the last straw; your laughter comes bubbling out of you and Kiri is leaning back to look at you with a quizzical expression on his face.  “Is something funny?”  That just makes you laugh a little harder but the confused look he’s wearing has you leaning in to press your lips against his.

“I’ve liked you from the first day I met you, Kiri.  I’ll one-up your offer and tell you that I might like to stay forever.”  A grin rips across his face and your heart blooms with warmth and affection.  The world seems full of possibilities but none of them matter except for the possibility laying right in front of you.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Mine Again - Harry Styles

a/n: this is something i just thought about after my nap today lol, so enjoy this treat, a classic exlovers to lovers fic!

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

word count: 3.4k

masterlist

Seeing an ex is never easy. Whether it’s by your choice or not. Working together with an ex is even harder and now you brought a situation on yourself where this is your reality.

Arriving to the studio of The Late Late show you immediately get escorted to your designated dressing room where a hair and makeup artist are already waiting for you. Today you are here to promote your new movie, Don’t Worry Darling with your onscreen lover, Harry Styles, however, what no one else in the building knows is that once the two of you were real life lovers.

Your romance blossomed during filming, having spent so much time together on set, it didn’t take long for a relationship to form between you and him, the chemistry you shared was immense and undeniable, anyone could see that and you felt like you were burning in a bonfire of the most intense feelings you’ve felt for any man. It was passionate and intoxicating, it felt like something that could only happen in movies, but it was your reality.

However filming ended and you were forced to go your separate ways, you both tried hard to keep what you had and though your feelings never changed, distance brought the worst out of the both of you. Six months after you became an item, you mutually agreed to break it off.

You haven’t seen him since then, meaning that it’s been five torturous months without having any contact with him and now that promo has officially kicked in, you are forced to travel around and make appearances with the man you love, yes, still love more than anyone on this Earth. Not even five months and absolutely no contact could change your feelings for him, however he might already be over you at this point, having forgotten about feelings and memories you still hold close to your heart.

How has he been doing? What is he like now? Has he been thinking about you? Does he miss you? What is it going to be like to see him for the first time?

The questions flood your mind as you sit in the chair and let the professionals work their magic on you, covering up the dark circles under your eyes that formed due to the sleepless night you had the day before, nonstop thinking about Harry and what it’ll be like to see him for the first time again.

After careful elimination, you choose a dress for the appearance, it’s tight and short, the fabric is covered in glittering sequins down your body and the long sleeves as well and while the dress covers a lot up from the waist, it makes up in the lack of length on your legs as the end of it barely reaches the upper part of your thighs, ending it black feathers that tickle your freshly shaven legs. The nude heels add even more to them, making you appear like you could hit the runway any moment when in reality you are not high enough to be a model.

There’s still some time until the taping starts, James drops by to say hello and tell you how excited he is to have you and Harry on tonight and you chit-chat for a little before you go to take a quick business call outside. When you’re done with that, you head back to your dressing room to take a few quick photos to post later, but right as you near your destination, a door swings open down the hallway and Harry steps out, wearing a black suit, of course, head to toe Gucci. The crispy grey shirt’s first few buttons are left undone, allowing you a glimpse of his toned chest and his necklace with the tiny cross pendant on it.

He looks good. No, he looks absolutely stunning, just like he always does and just the sight of him takes your breath away, forcing you to stop in your tracks when you lay your eyes at him. He spots you as well, stopping to take a look at you before you see a small smile on his perfect pink lips.

“Y/N, hi! You look… gorgeous,” he speaks up lowly, his eyes raking your body up and down.

“I, uhh—Thanks!” you breathe out, feeling already flustered. How are you gonna survive the interview, sitting next to him, talking about what it was like to play a married couple?!

His hand moves a bit and there’s a moment of awkwardness, neither of you really knowing what to do, last time you saw each other you kissed as your hellos, but now it’s not an option, obviously. At last, he moves forward and goes for a hug.

He envelopes you in his arms as you wrap yours around his neck, the warmth of his body bringing you a sense of home and it hits you hard how much you’ve missed him in these five months.

You swear he holds you just a second longer than what would be appropriate before his arms fall from around your frame and you force yourself to let go of him, though every fiber in you is protesting against it.

“How—How have you been?” he asks, his beautiful green eyes finding yours.

“I’m good. I’m good,” you nod. “What about you?”

“Same. Just the… usual stuff.”

“Writing music?” you ask with a soft smile. You still vividly remember those nights you spent together after a long day of filming, crashing at either his or your place and you often found him strumming his guitar in a corner, scribbling words down into his notebook. Sometimes he sang you the songs he came up with, sometimes he kept them to himself.

“Yeah, I’ve been writing a lot lately,” he admits with a shy smile.

Someone calls his name down the hallway and his head snaps up before looking back at you.

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you soon, right?”

“Yeah,” you nod, stepping aside so he can walk past.

“And you really look amazing, Y/N,” he calls after you one last time before jogging down the hallway.

You walk into your dressing room and shutting the door you lean your back against it, huffing heavily as you try to recollect yourself. Somehow, this encounter went really well, because the two of you were civil and respectful, but it was also a painful shock to see him in the flesh again. It was one thing to see pictures of him here and there, but actually meeting him, hugging him, talking to him… you need time to process it all.

Unfortunately, you don’t have much of that. Twenty minutes later you are walked to your spot behind the curtains from where you’ll walk out when James calls your name. Just as you arrive Harry appears as well, casually talking with one of the camera guys, having a laugh and just as he sees you, his eyes fall down your body again and you swear you see him gulp hard before turning his attention back to the man.

“Ready?” he asks upon walking up to you, a hand coming to rest on your lower back. Glancing over your shoulder you look down at his hand, lips parted at the feeling of his welcoming touch. He sees your glance and pulls his hand back quickly. “Sorry, it’s a habit, I guess,” he mumbles, blushing softly.

“It’s fine,” you smile. Of course it’s fine, for what you care, he could throw you over his shoulder like a cave man and run out of the building, you wouldn’t say a word. You want his touch on your body, you’ve been craving it since the moment you last saw him, but are you even allowed to admit it? You have no idea what he is thinking or feeling, you can’t just come right at him like that.

Harry fixes the lapels of his suit jacket, but what he doesn’t see is that the collar of his shirt is kind of stuck under the jacket.

“Your shirt is… let me fix it,” you breathe out and he turns to face you, letting your delicate hands fix his outfit, perfecting the look to the tiniest bit. “There, you look great,” you smile, your hands sliding down his chest before they fall to your sides again.

“Thank you,” he nods smiling back at you before offering an arm that you take gladly. He knows how much you hate high heels and that you are always scared of tripping and falling and being the gentleman that he is, he’ll be the support you need.

The taping soon starts and the two of you stand patiently behind the curtain as James introduces you.

“And now, please welcome the stars of the upcoming hit movie, Don’t Worry Darling! Ladies and gentlemen, Y/N Y/L/N and Harry Styles!”

The crowd starts clapping and cheering as the curtain moves and the two of you walk in, arms linked and Harry makes sure to slow down when you walk down the few little stairs. James welcomes the both of you with two kisses before everyone takes their place, James behind his desk, you and Harry sitting on the couch.

“Thank you so much for dropping by tonight, guys!” James smiles at the two of you.

“Thank you for having us,” Harry nods with a soft smile.

“You both have been guests on the show separately, but tonight you are here as a pair, since your latest movie, Don’t Worry Darling is hitting the theaters this weekend. How are you feeling about that, excited to see the film finally?”

“Very excited,” you nod with a smile. “I can’t wait to see the final version, because obviously we only know the version we envisioned while filming, but the actual movie is going to be something else.”

“Y/N, your role in the movie was originally handed to Florence Pugh who had to step back because she broke her arm,” James points out and you nod.

“Yes, I stepped in her place just about a week before production started and if I’m being honest I was scared that people would prefer to see her in the role, but I had a talk with her actually and she said she helped Olivia, the director to pick out the person to take her place and she said she instantly knew I would be perfect for it, so I trust her.”

“That’s amazing to hear, that the two of you didn’t have any rivalry going on,” James enthuses.

“She actually visited set a few times,” Harry chimes in and you nod.

“Yeah, we had a great time together.”

“Sounds like a lot of fun, the three of you together,” James chuckles. “So, the two of you play a married couple in the film and if I’m not mistaken you didn’t know each other beforehand. Was it hard to get into the roles with not much background on each other?”

“We met up a few times before filming started to get to know each other more and I think we hit it off right away, so it wasn’t hard for me,” Harry speaks up and you nod along.

“It was obviously a little different situation than when you meet someone and become friends, because as we got to know each other more, we had to go through scenes that were meant for a couple that was already years into their relationship, but I think it strengthened our friendship,” you answer, hands laid flat on your bare thighs.

No lie has been told, everything you said was the truth. You just left out the part where you become real life lovers and started dating a month into production.

“Y/N, you’ve been acting for a while now, have quite a few roles under your belt, what did you think of Harry’s acting?”

“I think that he is a wonderful actor and I hope people will give him his much deserved credit for it. He is often still seen as just a silly singer from a former boy band and they don’t take him seriously when he really is a very talented man. You’ll see in the movie as well, his role was a tough one, needed a lot of work and a wide range of emotions, but I think he did an amazing job.”

You dare to glance at him at the end of your little speech and for a moment you forget about the audience, James and the cameras. He is looking at you with so much gratitude and thankfulness. You remember every talk you had where he opened up to you about wanting to be taken seriously in the acting business, that he is not trying to be just a joke and another failed attempt of a singer to try himself out in movies. He told you how scared he is of not being good enough when you saw him every day on set and you were blown by his eternal talent and special take on his role. He deserves to be praised, he deserves every bit of it.

“It was easy, I had a great partner to learn from,” he smiles softly and you feel the heat crawling up your neck.

“You two really have the chemistry we’ve heard so much about, I can’t wait to see it on the big screen!” James sighs. “Tell me a little about what it was like to film? You guys spent a lot of time together, must have made a lot of memories.”

You take a deep breath as all those memories mentioned flood your mind. You had the best time of your life not just with Harry, but with the whole crew. Leaving after production was wrapped really broke your heart.

“It didn’t even feel like working,” Harry starts. “We always joked around, had lunch or dinner together, we were like a big family. It was so nice to have so many amazing, talented and hard-working people around you all day.”

“The jokes never stopped,” you add chuckling.

“I wish I could have been on set!” James laughs wholeheartedly. “That didn’t happen, but we have a little something. The crew has put together a short BTS video of the filming, so let’s have a look at that,” he announces and the video starts playing on every screen in the studio.

It’s a short little montage, but it captures the vibes of filming just perfectly. Clips shown from set are not just of you and Harry, but all the other cast and crew members. Goofing around, having lots and lots of laughs, dancing on set, which happened quite often and just all of you having a great time. Some of the slips however pain your chest, the ones of you and Harry.

This was very early into your relationship, no one on set even knew you were together, but seeing yourself on the screen you can’t deny the sparkles in your eyes every time you were around him.

A clip shows the two of you between two takes, doing a goofy dance in the kitchen of the home that was used as the set of the house of your characters, you are both wearing your costumes, Harry looks great in his suit and your long retro dress is flowing around you with every movement you make. He grabs you by your waist and spins you before you end up in his arms laughing crazily, you were so happy, so carefree. You wish you could go back to that moment…

Another footage was taken in your trailer when Harry took the place of Clare, your makeup artist and tried to do your eyeliner but miserably failed. In the video, he is gently clasping your chin, angling your face for himself as his other hand is working on the line, but it’s wobbly and way too thick, so you both end up just laughing when you check yourself in the mirror.

And there are some small moments of the two of you, moving around on set, lying in bed between takes, sitting in your chairs while eating, just tiny memories you still cherish so much and wish to live through again, but it’s the past. And it wouldn’t hurt this much if you knew Harry from the video was still yours.

When the video ends you need to blink a few times as your eyes have watered a little. You catch Harry’s gaze and he looks worried, he clearly wants to ask if you’re okay, make sure it was just the sentimentality of the moment, but he doesn’t have the chance, the cameras are still rolling.

“That looked like so much fun! Next time make sure to invite me on set too!” James jokes and you force a laugh out of yourself.

A few questions are asked about future plans and just generally about your careers before the taping finally ends. You thank James for the invite again and a photo is taken of the three of you, you standing in the middle with the two men on your sides. When everything is settled, you head to your dressing room, using the chance to slip away silently while Harry is still chit-chatting on the set.

In the comfort and silence of the dressing room, you lean onto the vanity, staring at yourself in the mirror, finding it ironic that on the outside, you look perfectly fine, healthy and pretty, but on the inside… you could scream. You miss Harry so much, you hoped that your feelings for him have toned down a little over these five months, but it was just the same if not even worse.

A faint knock is heard on the door and you quickly fix yourself before calling out to the person outside. The door opens and for your surprise, Harry steps inside, closing the door behind him.

“Hey, you disappeared so fast,” he softly says.

“Yeah, I’m just… a little tired,” you lie, though you know exactly he can see right through you.

“Y/N, I saw that look in your eyes after the video…”

“What look?” you ask with a huff. “What do you want me to say, Harry?”

“The truth,” he answers. “I’m not James, don’t bullshit me.”

“You want the truth? I’ll give it to you, but don’t blame me if it’s uncomfortable for you,” you chuckle bitterly, throwing your hands into the air. “I’ve been miserable, Harry. I miss you so fucking much, seeing you today was like Hell. I really thought it would be easier, but now I’m stuck with going from one interview to the other with red carpet events all around the world, seeing you every day when I terribly miss you and it fucking sucks, because you might not even feel the sa—“

You don’t get to finish, because Harry crosses the distance between the two of you, his hands grab your face and pulls you into a hard and passionate kiss. His lips move perfectly against yours and it feels like he is trying to squeeze every missed moment from the past five months into the kiss, making you melt into his arms completely.

He is everywhere. He is all you can taste, you breathe him in, his hands are everywhere on your body and your chest is pressed tight against his as you wrap your arms around his neck, locking him into your embrace. Your tongues dance, teeth tugging and pulling on lips, it’s a whole mess, but it’s the most perfect mess you’ve ever been. He takes your breath away completely and you don’t even want it back if it means you can’t have him.

Harry pulls away first, both your chests heaving wildly from the heavy make-out session and he looks down at you with hooded eyes.

“If you think I haven’t missed you like crazy… you can’t be more wrong, baby. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, I wanted to call you a thousand times and beg for you to come back to me, but I thought you already moved on.”

“Moving on?!” you huff with a tired smile. “Harry, I could never…”

“Alright, then I’m not letting you go again. No way you are walking out of this building without being mine again.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words as you pull him down for another kiss, needing to feel his lips on yours.

“I never stopped being yours,” you whisper against his lips and he moans weakly before crashing his lips against yours again. 

-

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[ppangjae]

SUN&MOON | Jaehyun

SUMMARY. Asking Jeong Jaehyun to accompany you to your family’s 1-week Christmas vacation as your boyfriend has its consequences. One can surely get through 1 week of pretending to be in love with an enemy, right? 

GENRE. enemies to lovers!au | fake dating!au | tooth-rotting fluff | angst

WORD COUNT. 14.6k+ words (someone stop me)

playlist. sun and moon by sam kim | sun&moon by nct 127 | D (half moon) by dean

author’s note. i’ve always wondered how ‘ordinary people’ would be if the situation was switched and yn needed someone to be their fake boyfriend. but you know that i love making things messy and so i decided to add the enemies to lovers trope. have fun reading and no, you don’t need to read ordinary people before this fic! merry christmas? merry chrysler? merry crimmus?

disclaimer. you do not need to read ordinary people before reading this fic! this fic is made in a different universe and time, so consider this fic separate from ordinary people!

warnings. swearing!

taglist: @yasmini24 @jungjxxhyun @softieus @justineasian @chantellsievert @jaehyunnie77 @princessaecha @je0ngjaehyun @joyfuljaehyun @fluffyjaes @icelandicboo @chalcopyright @ethaeriyeol​ @svchengss​ @yourmagnanimousholiness​ @127-jaehyun​ @theunluckylistenermusician​ @mangotexts​ @daydreamerblues​ 

Even when we’re not looking at the same sky, we stay together like the SUN&MOON.

“If I’m the dumb of dumb and dumber, then that means you’re the dumber.”

It’s unfortunate that you couldn’t agree any more with your best friend, Jungwoo, who’s setting up the projector in his living room. The projector turns on after twenty straight minutes of Jungwoo just smacking the top of it, as if it would do anything. Projected onto the off-white walls of his apartment is a PowerPoint presentation and to your surprise, it’s not a presentation about how you’re the dumber one out of the two of you. Instead, it’s a PowerPoint presentation about—

“Five reasons why Jeong Jaehyun should be the fake boyfriend you’ll bring home for Christmas.”

“Turn that shit off before I rip your hair off your scalp—”

“Listen, hear me out.” Jungwoo cuts you off, pressing the button on his clicker to move on to the next presentation slide. The next slide shows a very dorky picture of Jaehyun sticking two fingers up his nostrils and you assume that it’s some sort of blackmail that Jungwoo uses. “Reason number one, he is a handsome and smooth motherfucker and I’m sure your parents will be very impressed.”

“Jungwoo, I hope you know that no matter what, I will not ask Jaehyun to pretend to be my boyfriend—”

“Reason number two,” Jungwoo ignores you, moving on to the next presentation slide. The slide shows a picture of all the boys in your circle of friends. Johnny, Sicheng, Jungwoo, Mark, and Jaehyun. Jungwoo points at each one of them. “Johnny is in a relationship, which means that he’s not an option. Sicheng is also in a relationship and he’s planning on proposing on Christmas Eve, not only is he booked and busy this Christmas, but he’s also not an option.”

“Jungwoo, you’re not dating anyone. You can pretend to be my boyfriend instead.” You suggest and Jungwoo clicks his tongue, shaking his head in reply. “What? Why not?”

“Do you think your parents would believe that I, Kim Jungwoo, so happens to be not only your childhood best friend but your boyfriend too?” Your face turns blank. He has a point. He smirks. “Exactly. That’s what I thought. Now, Mark has a crush on your younger sister, so I don’t think it would be ideal for him to be your fake boyfriend when he should be shooting his shot on your sister this Christmas.”

“He needs my approval first—”

“That’s not the point.” Jungwoo cuts you off, pointing the laser of his clicker to the wall, specifically at Jaehyun’s face. He circles the laser around Jaehyun’s face and begins to grin. “The point is that Jaehyun is your only option. Jaehyun’s single, he’s good looking, and it wouldn’t be suspicious to your parents.”

“Reason number three, Yeri and Haechan would definitely approve of Jaehyun.” Jungwoo explains. 

“What makes you so sure about that?”

“Because Jaehyun is easily likeable, it would be odd if Yeri and Haechan didn’t like him.” He reasons.

“Do I look convinced?” You ask. 

Jungwoo stares at you. He blinks before shrugging his shoulders. “I say you kind of do. Now, reason number four!”

The next slide shows a poorly-cropped photo of you and Jaehyun standing next to each other. You let out a snort, biting your lip and covering your mouth to stop yourself from bursting out into laughter. You’re appreciative of Jungwoo’s effort, but—

“Reason number four, you both surprisingly look good together. I think you guys suit each other, if I were to be quite honest. The only problem here is that you both hate each other with a lively passion.” Jungwoo shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t give me that look, Y/N—”

“Okay, fine!” You raise up your hands in defeat. Jungwoo grins. “Does it look like I actually have a choice? I swear I have the worst luck—”

“You do—”

“Everyone of you is taken and my parents would have to be extremely gullible if you pretended to be my boyfriend. That leaves me no one but Jaehyun, who’s unfortunately single and the only one that seems more convincing.” You sigh with defeat. You fall back against Jungwoo’s leather couch, kicking the air out of frustration and stress. “That’s problem number one of two. Problem number two is—”

“So, you’re actually going to ask him—”

“—how the fuck am I going to ask Jeong Jaehyun to be my fake boyfriend for one week?”

“Are you on crack or something?”

“Stop laughing at me, you fucker.” 

Jaehyun’s playing with his chain bracelet, a smug grin plastered on his face. Oh, how you wish you could wipe that grin off his face. Fine, as much as you hate to admit it, Jaehyun does look good. He looks good in his oversized hoodie with his hair gelled back and a few of its strands framing his slim face. But that’s not the point, the point is is that—

“No.” 

“No?” You repeat his answer. He raises an eyebrow questioningly. “Wait, did you just say no?”

He nods his head, clasping his hands together and smirks. “Why? Did you want me to say yes?”

You let out a scoff of disbelief. “Does it look like I want to do this? With you, specifically?”

“I mean,” he shrugs his shoulders. “You could’ve just simply said that you had a budding crush on me just like how you did when we were fifteen instead of going through the long route and asking me to be your fake boyfriend for your one-week holiday vacation with your family.”

“Why, you little—”

“Calm yourselves before you start clawing each other’s faces, holy shit.” Jungwoo arrives at the table booth with a tray of your orders. Jungwoo slides into the seat next to you, handing the both of you your burgers, fries, and drinks. You and Jaehyun are having an intense glaring competition. “Stop eye-fucking each other it’s making me feel uncomfortable.”

“We’re not.” The both of you say in unison. “Shut up.”

“You irritate me.” You roll your eyes, opening the wrapper of your burger and taking one big bite. Jaehyun looks at you with disgust, mumbling a few curses underneath his breath before taking his first bite. “And for the record, I do not have a budding crush on you. What happened when we were fifteen was just a joke. You just so happen to be the single one out of the guys and I just so happen to forget telling my parents that Taehyung and I broke up—”

“And you just so happen to think that I would easily say yes?” Jaehyun dips a french fry into ketchup. Before shoving the french fry into his mouth, he sticks his tongue out at you. “Try harder, Y/N. I’m not going to do it.”

“Fine,” you snap. “It’s not like I wanted you to do it anyways.”

“But you still tried—”

“Fuck this shit and fuck you,” you grumble, nudging Jungwoo to make room for you to leave. Jungwoo looks at you then back at Jaehyun. You’re too pissed off to notice Jungwoo give Jaehyun a warning look. “I’m out. I’ll just ask someone else, maybe Yukhei or Yuta. I’m sure one of them would be nice and kind enough to help me out for just one goddamn week.”

Jaehyun’s presence is enough to ruin your day. This is a living example. You huff out a breath, realizing that you have to ask for a takeout bag for your burger and fries. Cursing underneath your breath, you begin to head to the front cashier counter to ask for a—

“What’s in it for me, then?”

You stop in your tracks. You have your back facing the two of them. You slowly turn around. “If I give you something in return, would you do it?”

Jaehyun shrugs his shoulders. “It depends on what you’re giving me.”

You frown. “I’ll do your laundry for a year—”

“Y/N will get you that vintage LP turntable that you wanted.” Jungwoo cuts you off. You’re about to protest but Jungwoo gives you a look that silences you. “Even the records you wanted.” (**vintage marantz 6200 turntable)

It’s terrifying how you could see a fire igniting in Jaehyun’s eyes. The corners of his lips slowly move up to reach his ears. He slowly places his burger down. 

“Fine, I’ll do it. When do we start pretending?”

“I told you to pack one luggage, not three.”

Jungwoo looks at you through the rearview mirror. It’s been five minutes since the three of you hit the road and an argument has already begun to ensue. Jaehyun, however, seems unfazed by it. In fact, he’s too distracted by the beautiful snowflakes falling from the sky and falling onto the ground to form a fluffy blanket. Just by the argument that’s about to start in the back of the car, Jungwoo’s worried that the one-week plan might fall through the cracks.

“You told me to pack a week’s worth of clothes.” Jaehyun tears his gaze away from the view outside of the window to look at you. To his surprise, you’re already looking at him. With your pierced gaze, it catches him off guard, but he plays it off by letting out a scoff. 

“And a week’s worth of clothes just so happens to fit in not one but three luggages?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Well,” Jungwoo cuts into the argument, his darting between the two of you through his rearview mirror. He gulps nervously. “If you count the winter coat, the shoes, and everything else, one luggage actually isn’t enough—”

“Don’t take his side.” You whine. You fold your arms. “Well then, how come I managed to fit a week’s worth of clothes into one luggage?”

Jaehyun eyes you up and down before gesturing your clothes. “Maybe it’s because you have a poor sense of style—”

“I do not!” You exclaim. He purses his lips into a tight line, looking away from you. You let out a frustrating sigh. “God, I can’t believe I’m spending a week with you.”

“If I were you, I’d watch it with the snarky remarks.” Jaehyun warns you. “The moment I get ticked off, I can simply just tell your parents the truth.”

You look at him with wide eyes. You feel threatened. “Oh, you would not do that.”

“Oh, yes I could and I would.” Jaehyun squints his eyes at you. 

“Are you threatening me?”

“Yes.”

From the rearview mirror, Jungwoo watches you pout in defeat. You’re looking away from Jaehyun, turning your body towards the opposite direction. Jungwoo, however, catches Jaehyun spare you a gaze that lasts longer than it should before his lips form into a soft smile. 

“Jaehyun, one point. Y/N, zero points.”

“Shut the fuck up and focus on the road, Jungwoo.”

There’s a sole reason as to why you and Jaehyun have bad blood. Ridiculous as it sounds, Jaehyun has been categorized as three different things throughout your entire life. Childhood friend, crush, and enemy. There was a time where you and Jaehyun were childhood friends. You’d always be attached at the hip. Whatever was yours was his and vice versa. But things began to take a sharp turn when you started liking him.

You started liking Jaehyun at the innocent age of fifteen. It was the year where you and the group would go on overnight camp trips. Jaehyun had just come back from studying in America for a year. You remember seeing Jaehyun stepping out of his mother’s Mercedes-Benz in nothing but a loose basketball t-shirt and jean shorts and thinking, wow, I think I’m in love with him. Things haven’t been the same since.

The switch up of him being the love of your life to your enemy happened on the last night of your camping trip. The group had decided to get a dip in the lake while you and Jaehyun stayed back to set up the bonfire. It was your only chance to tell him, you remember convincing yourself. You planned it out carefully, where you would confess to him and if he returned the same feelings, you’d date. But if he didn’t feel the same way, you both had the brutal option to shove memories of that year’s camping trip into the back of your mind, not to be dug up again. It was stupid of you to think that the former would happen instead of the latter.

Ever since then, just the thought of you crushing on Jaehyun made your blood boil. You wish it never happened. You wish you never saw Jaehyun in a different light. You wish your heart never skipped a beat too many when you liked Jaehyun. 

You wish you never liked him.

“We’re here, kids.”

It takes a harsh shove for you to wake up. Your eyes shoot open and your hands ball up into fists as you prepare to fight someone. Fight or flight response. As your eyes meet Jaehyun, he glares at you. Jungwoo watches the both of you from the driver’s seat. 

“Your head’s incredibly heavy, did you know that?” Jaehyun complains after pushing your head off of his shoulder, getting out of the car. You scoff, grumbling underneath your breath as you get out of the car. The door slams shut. Jungwoo smiles at the cute interaction.

As you step out of the car, you feel yourself shiver from the chilly breeze that hits against your cheeks. Your instinct is to warm up your cheeks with your knitted gloves. Jaehyun’s pulling out your things from the trunk. It’s not long until you hear a loud screech a couple of metres away. You’re closing the trunk as Jaehyun sets down the last luggage and someone jumps over you, almost making you stumble over. You let out a yelp, looking over your shoulder to see Yeri on your back. You let out a scream.

“You said you weren’t coming home for Christmas! What are you doing here?” You exclaim, pulling your younger sister into a tight embrace. Yeri giggles, wrapping her arms around you as she snuggles into your warmth. 

“Of course, it was a lie. I wanted to surprise you and Taehyung—you’re not Taehyung.” She pulls away from the hug and looks up at Jaehyun. She looks at the both of you with confusion. She points at him. “You’re not Taehyung. Y/N, are you sure you brought the right guy home for Christmas?”

You and Jaehyun share a look. Get into your act, Jaehyun reminds himself and he immediately straightens his posture. He extends his hand out to Yeri and Yeri raises an eyebrow. “Hi, I’m Jaehyun. We’ve met before you studied abroad but I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m Y/N’s boyfriend—”

“Boyfriend?” Yeri blurts out. She looks at you in shock. “Since when did you drop Taehyung so fast?”

You let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of your neck. Somehow, it’s difficult to come up with an answer but before you could at least utter out a word—

“It’s getting quite cold outside, shall we head in?” Jaehyun suggests, throwing his arm around your shoulder. You’re too bothered by your thoughts of your ex-boyfriend to even notice that Jaehyun’s doing skinship with you. “Babe?”

Babe? You snap out of it. You look up at him. “R-Right, it’s getting cold. Let’s head inside.”

Yeri stares at the two of you and grins. “Well, I’m happy you dropped Taehyung. I never liked him for you anyway. It seems like Jaehyun’s a better suit for you, but I’ll have to find that out myself. Welcome home, Y/N. And Jaehyun, make yourself at home.”

Jaehyun’s not sure why Yeri’s words send a shiver down his spine. As your younger sister is the first one to head back into the cabin, the both of you glance at each other. You push Jaehyun’s arm off your shoulder, scrunching your nose in disgust, and pulling out the handle of your luggage. “Let’s head inside, it’s freezing.”

“Y/N, if we’re going to pretend like we’re dating, at least make it look real.” Jaehyun mutters.

“Sorry, I was just caught off guard about—” You begin before stopping yourself. You bite your lip. “Let’s just head inside, we wouldn’t want everyone waiting for us at the dinner table, especially my parents.”

Jaehyun purses his lips into a line. About what? He turns around to look at Jungwoo. Jungwoo’s too intimidated by what had just gone down and he’s not sure if he could handle it any longer. “Thanks for the ride, Jungwoo.”

Jungwoo looks at Jaehyun nervously. “Make sure you guys kick ass with this fake relationship because from what had just happened now, I’m not sure if the act will last long.”

“Oh, we will.” Jaehyun shoves his hands into his pockets. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“You better.”

The moment your parents looked at Jaehyun from across the dining table, you just knew. Your mom is the first to set her spoon and fork down onto the table, tilting her head in confusion before looking at you with a slightly questioning gaze. Mustering up a smile, you shrug your shoulders, glancing at Jaehyun who’s sitting next to you on your right. Jaehyun, however, has been great with putting up the act. He has the fakest smile spread across his lips and his body is tensed up. You’re too busy trying to stop yourself from breaking out into a teasing smile, but you fail at doing so. Jaehyun places his hand on top of yours, gently rubbing the top of your hand with the pad of his thumb. Your smile grows wider when you notice how moist and sweaty Jaehyun’s hands are.

He’s nervous, you think to yourself. Maybe you could get used to this, where Jaehyun is a nervous mess in front of your parents who look intimidating—but are definitely far from it. 

Your dad’s reaction comes a bit later than your mom’s. He’s looking up from his plate and he chokes on his food when his eyes land on Jaehyun. “Wait, you’re not Taehyung.”

Jaehyun chuckles nervously, nodding his head. He sucks in a breath. “I’m Jaehyun, Y/N’s boyfriend. I’m not sure if you remember me but Y/N and I went to the same high school and—”

“Ah! That’s right! I knew you looked familiar.” Your mom exclaims. Jaehyun suddenly feels nervous under your mom’s gaze and he sets his spoon and fork down to engage in the conversation. Your mom glances at you. “Y/N, sweetie, I think you need some explaining to do. I wish you told me sooner that you and Taehyung weren’t dating anymore because I assumed you were still together and I even bought him a Christmas present—”

“We broke up, mom.” You bite your lip, shoving a spoonful of soup into your mouth. You’re avoiding your mom’s gaze, but from your periphery, you can see Jaehyun looking at you. “We broke up three months ago. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. I could still give Taehyung your present—”

“Oh, no, you don’t need to, sweetheart.” Your mother shakes her head. She looks at Jaehyun apologetically. “I’m sorry, Jaehyun, I probably made things a bit awkward.”

Jaehyun tears his gaze away from you. He smiles. “No worries.”

Yeri clears her throat. “Jaehyun, are you worried that you might be my sister’s rebound—”

“Yeri.” You glare at her as you hiss. “Please—”

Your words are cut short when Jaehyun squeezes your hand. You glance at him and his face softens. He looks at your sister. “I’m not worried at all. Sure, we’ve been dating for only two months. Sure, Y/N had just gotten out of a relationship. Sure, her wounds are still fresh. But asking your sister to give me a chance was my choice, and just the fact that your sister gave me a chance tells me that she’s ready to move on.”

For a brief moment, Jaehyun looks like he’s being sincere about his words. It feels so real, almost like he’s telling the truth. If you were someone else, you’d definitely believe him. He’s being too creative with this act, and you definitely have to reward him some brownie points for the effort. 

You don’t notice the small smile forming on your lips. Jaehyun’s eyes meet yours and he mirrors your smile. “Right, Y/N?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Right.”

Your dad lets out a light-hearted chuckle. “I think you both suit each other. I see a difference in my daughter’s aura, Jaehyun, it must be because of you. When Taehyung spent the Christmas holidays with us, Y/N looked completely different.”

“Is that a good sign?” Jaehyun jokes.

“Yes.” Your dad flashes him a warm smile. “Kudos to you, it means you’re doing a perfect job.”

Jaehyun’s smile falters.

It means you’re doing a perfect job.

A perfect job of acting. This isn’t real. 

The first day of the holiday vacation is a trip to the Christmas Market. Every year, you and your family spend the first day of the holiday vacation at the Christmas Market for a variety of things. It could be an opportunity to pick out gifts for your Secret Santa, it could be an opportunity where your parents will visit the grocery shop to get groceries for the Christmas Eve dinner, or it could simply be an opportunity to shop around for yourself and have fun. 

It’s also the day where your cousin Haechan and his family will move into the cabin for the week. The cabin is always busy and full of joy when both your family and Haechan’s family are there. It’s what makes the holiday vacation much more special. It’s sort of like Midas touch.

“Please remember that we parked right in front of the Gingerbread House because you know that I’ll forget.” Your dad commands the moment all of you hop out of the SUV.

Jaehyun looks at the hustle and bustle of the Christmas Market. He’s amused and fascinated by all the dimly-lit lights scattered all over the market. To set the Christmas mood, it’s lightly snowing and all Jaehyun could smell is hot chocolate from the cafe a couple of metres away. “This is…”

“Amazing?” You look up at him.

He nods his head. “Yeah… amazing.”

As all of you reach the entrance gates of the Christmas Market, everyone begins to split ways, leaving you and Jaehyun behind. You remove your hand from Jaehyun’s. “Well, I’m going to go shop around for my Secret Santa. You can go and do whatever you want for the meantime, unless you want to join me—”

“Let me join you—”

“Ew.” You scrunch up your nose in disgust. “Fine, do whatever you want, I guess.”

Jaehyun reaches down to grab your hand and you raise an eyebrow. He shrugs his shoulders. “You never know, we might bump into them in the shops and they’ll wonder why we’re not holding hands.”

“Do we always have to hold hands?” You question. “I’m sure holding hands is not a mandatory requirement for couples. Besides, your hands are disgustingly sweaty.”

Jaehyun lets go of your hand and looks at it. “Are they?”

You snort. “Let’s go before they start wondering why we’re just standing here doing nothing.”

He fails to notice that you’re already walking away from him because he’s too distracted by his ‘sweaty’ hands. He grumbles angrily underneath his breath, ready to protest only to see that you’re no longer standing in front of him. He looks up to see you already a couple of metres away. He wipes his hands on the sides of his jeans and begins to jog up to you.

“Wait! Hold my hand! Y/N! They’re not sweaty anymore!”

You hear him calling out to you and it only makes you smile and let out a bubbly giggle.

“Are you my Secret Santa?”

Yeri jumps at your voice, completely startled. You burst out into laughter. She frowns at you and folds her arms. You and Jaehyun had so happened to bump into Yeri at the jewelry shop. It’s been at least an hour and a half since you started shopping for your Secret Santa and you still haven’t gotten anything. You figured that a stop at the jewelry shop will help you out. 

“I’m not,” Yeri mumbles. “I got Haechan this year.”

“And how do I know that you’re not lying?”

The jeweler comes back to the counter with a beautiful Louis Vuitton necklace. You lean closer to Yeri to get a better look of the necklace. Yeri turns the LV pendant around to reveal an engraved ‘H’ on the back. You let out a sad sigh. “I told you. I’m Haechan’s Secret Santa this year. Believe me now?”

“I’m kind of disappointed that you’re not my Secret Santa this year. You always go out with the gifts and I’d be more than grateful to receive a beautiful necklace like this.” You sigh again. “It’s alright. You still need to give me a birthday gift anyways.”

“Your birthday is in March.” Yeri snorts. 

“Anyways, I’ll continue shopping. Don’t make your pockets hurt too much, alright? You got textbooks to buy when you go back to university once the Christmas break is over.”

She groans. “Don’t even remind me.”

You laugh. Before you’re walking away, a familiar necklace catches your eye. You look down at the glass counter to stare at the necklace. It’s the Louis Vuitton silver lockit that you’ve always wanted to buy. Your smile is replaced with a frown. You shrug off your sad thoughts before moving on to another glass cabinet of chain bracelets.

Jaehyun observes you as you walk away. He walks closer to the counter, looking down at the necklace you were just looking at. Yeri nudges him and he glances at her.

“You know, Y/N’s always wanted that necklace, but I’m not sure if she wants it anymore.” Yeri whispers quietly. “She told Taehyung that the moment she saw that necklace, she dreamt of having it. They were  six years into their relationship when Y/N found out that the woman Taehyung was seeing behind her back was given the exact same necklace.”

“Taehyung cheated—” Jaehyun stops himself. He looks over his shoulder to see you standing on the other side of the room, talking to the jeweler about a few sets of chain bracelets. You don’t look as happy as you were a while ago. He frowns, looking back down at the necklace. 

“I’m sure Y/N never told you about that,” Yeri mumbles. “That’s because I’m the only person that knows. But since you seem to be a good guy for my sister, I figured it would be safe to tell you.”

“Why do you trust me so much?” Jaehyun asks.

Yeri shrugs her shoulders. “I guess it’s because my sister would never replace the man she loved so much with someone else this fast. But she did, and that could only mean that you must be very special to her.”

But I’m not. I’m not special. Jaehyun thinks to himself. He purses his lips into a tight line. “I see. Thank you for putting so much trust in me. You barely even know me.”

“No problem.” She beams at him. “Anyways, you’re being a bit too obvious.”

“Me? Being a bit too obvious? About what?”

“About being Y/N’s Secret Santa.”

“Well… shit.”

The cabin becomes more lively the moment Haechan and his family enters. Haechan immediately rushes to his usual room which is right across from Yeri’s. The two of them are like two peas in a pod, either always bickering over the smallest things or having late-night conversations in the cabin’s basement. There’s no in between. They’re truly cousins. 

“Who just ran past?” Jaehyun asks you. You’re busy stirring up two cups of hot chocolate. One for you and the other for— “Hey, thanks for the hot chocolate—”

“Haechan, get here before your hot chocolate gets cold!” You yell, turning around and leaving Jaehyun in the kitchen to meet Haechan halfway. 

“I’m here, I’m here, I’m here—who the flipping heck are you?” Jaehyun looks past your shoulder to see who he assumes is your cousin Haechan. Haechan gently grabs his mug of hot chocolate from you and takes a quick sip. 

“Me?” Jaehyun points to himself.

“No, the dude standing behind you—of course, I’m talking to you.” Haechan quirks an eyebrow. Well, what a sassy cousin. No wonder you’re both related, Jaehyun thinks to himself. “Hi, I’m Haechan, Y/N’s cousin. You probably already know that.”

“I’m Jaehyun,” he introduces himself. “Y/N’s boyfriend.”

“What?” Haechan blurts out. “I thought—weren’t you dating—I am completely and utterly confused. You have some explaining to do, Y/N. You dropped Taehyung pretty fast. I am also Taehyung’s Secret Santa, now how the fuck am I going to give him his present?”

“Exactly what Yeri said, no wonder the both of you get along so well.” You roll your eyes. “About Taehyung’s gift, just leave it with me and I’ll give it to him for you—”

Haechan squints his eyes at the two of you with suspicion. “I’m getting the vibe that you guys aren’t really dating but are just putting up an act—”

“We’re not.” You both cut him off in unison.

“Huh, well,” Haechan grins. “It’s just surprising to see that you’ve moved on from a long relationship with Taehyung that fast. You replaced him really quickly. I wonder why.”

Jaehyun wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Things just happen. It was nice meeting you, Haechan.”

“I guess this Christmas holiday will be spicier and messier than I thought.” Haechan smirks. “It was nice meeting you too, Jaehyun.”

Haechan saw right through the two of you and that alone sends shivers down your spine. Just as he’s about to head back to his room with his hot chocolate, you reach out for the ends of his sleeve, tugging him back. He looks at you questioningly.

“Yes, Y/N, my beloved cousin?”

“Don’t tell anyone.” You beg.

“Y/N—” Jaehyun’s eyes widen.

“I fucking knew it!” Haechan exclaims before Jaehyun reaches out to cover his mouth with his hand. Haechan glares at Jaehyun, licking his hand. Jaehyun yelps, wiping his hand against the side of his pants with a look of disgust. 

“Haechan, please don’t tell mom, dad, or Yeri. You are the only one that knows about this. If you tell them then we’re—”

“Screwed? Yeah, I know.” Haechan chuckles. He pats your shoulder. “No worries. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Promise?” Jaehyun squints his eyes at him.

Haechan glances at him. “I promise. But, what’s in it for me?”

“I’ll get you the PS5—”

“I’ll get you those speakers you wanted—”

“PS5?” Haechan’s eyes widen like saucers. 

You bite your lip, looking at Jaehyun. You mumble, “you’re making the biggest mistake right now, Jaehyun—”

“Deal. Your not-so-real boyfriend will be getting me a PS5 in exchange for keeping your not-so-fake secret.” Haechan puts his hands up as if he’s going to preach. “I give you both the family’s blessing.”

You playfully punch him in the stomach, and he bends over in response. He groans. “Yeah, sure, whatever. Go unpack your things before Jaehyun changes his mind.”

Haechan obliges to your order, leaving the both of you in the kitchen before looking over his shoulder. His eyes meet Jaehyun’s and he smiles. “Welcome to the family, Jaehyun. I think I’m starting to like you already. Not for my cousin, but you get it.”

“How the fuck am I going to get your cousin a PS5?”

It’s the second day of your Christmas holiday, and you find yourself lying against the snow. It snowed a good twenty centimetres overnight and Haechan dragged you out of bed just to make snow angels before it gets shovelled away. Fortunately enough, it’s still snowing and the pretty sight of snowflakes falling from the sky brings a bright smile to your face. Haechan lets out a happy sigh.

“So, why did you do it?”

You look to your right. Haechan’s not looking back at you, he’s looking up at the sky. You raise an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“Your fake relationship.” Haechan clarifies, finally looking at you. “Why did you do it? I mean, you could’ve simply told your parents that you and Taehyung broke up instead of bringing Jaehyun into this mess.”

You give yourself some time to come up with an explanation because surprisingly, you didn’t have one. Well, you did have one, but now that Haechan’s confronting you about it, you suddenly think your reasoning is stupid. 

You shrug your shoulders. “I just didn’t want to disappoint my parents.”

“You didn’t want to disappoint your parents?” Haechan asks.

You hum in reply. “Taehyung and I dated for six years. That’s a long time. My parents adored him. When we broke up, I was devastated. Six years of dating down the drain. I guess I just didn’t want my parents to see me look like a mess over him.”

“And so you asked Jaehyun to pretend to be your boyfriend for the annual Christmas holiday?” You nod your head. Haechan purses his lips into a tight line and nods his head understandingly. “I get where you’re coming from.”

“I figured it would be better for my parents to know that although Taehyung and I broke up, there’s still someone out there who stepped in to take care of me.” You add with much hesitation. “It would be better for them to know that than seeing how horrible I am because of the breakup and how I haven’t been taking care of myself properly.” 

“Well, you should give your fake boyfriend some credit for putting in so much effort to pull such an act in front of your parents.” Haechan says. “For a week too.”

Haechan’s right. No matter how much you hate Jaehyun, you must consider the fact that Jaehyun decided to help you out. He could’ve simply neglected you—like he always does—and made you embarrass yourself in front of your parents. He could’ve just flat out not help you at all. But he did. 

Somehow, it makes you wonder. Why? If it’s so simple for Jaehyun to not help you at all, why did he end up helping you anyway? There must be a catch, aside from the vintage turntable you have to get him in return. There’s definitely a deeper reason as to why Jaehyun’s doing this for you.

“You guys are up really early.”

You and Haechan sit up from the snow to see Jaehyun standing at the door. He has a hot, steaming cup of coffee and it looks like he had just gotten out of bed. Haechan waves him over. “Finish your coffee and join us out here!”

“I think I’ll pass—”

“It snowed?!” Jaehyun’s cut off by your younger sister, Yeri, who pushes past him. She steps out onto the porch and extends her arms out to catch snowflakes in her bare hands. She smiles. “Don’t move! I’m putting on my jacket and I’ll join you.”

She hurriedly rushes inside, zooming past Jaehyun. Jaehyun quirks an eyebrow. His gaze is focused on you. You’re bursting out into laughter after throwing a snowball at Haechan’s face. He’s in the midst of rolling up a snowball only to get hit in the face by another one. “Hey!”

You stick your tongue out. “You snooze, you lose.”

Jaehyun smiles. “On second thought, I think I’ll join.”

And so he does. He sets his cup of coffee down and lets it run cold. In a couple of minutes, he finds himself lying next to you on the snow. He’s looking up at the sky, snowflakes getting caught in his long eyelashes. You sit up, looking down at him. You fall into his line of sight and he can’t help but notice how pretty you look. Your lips are itching to smile.

“You have long eyelashes,” you point out. 

He nods his head. “You noticed.”

“And,” you mumble, getting lost underneath his gaze. “Your ears are really red.”

“Huh? No, they’re not—”

“They are—”

“They’re not—”

“They are—oof!”

You gasp, immediately wiping snow off your face. Jaehyun bursts out into a cackle. “I can’t believe you didn’t expect that to happen!”

You frown. “It was bound to. You’re going to pay for this!”

Haechan and Yeri watch you and Jaehyun chase each other out on the front lawn that’s covered in snow. You’re both chasing each other with snowballs, throwing them at each other when the opportunity is there. Yeri lets out a happy sigh.

“They look happy together, huh?” Yeri asks.

Haechan nods. “They do. Your sister looks different from last Christmas.”

“Yeah, you could tell her and Taehyung weren’t doing so great.” Yeri agrees. “I kind of knew they were going to break up eventually. Taehyung looked like he had already fallen out of love and was just trying to find the right opportunity to end things with her. But now, she looks happy. Happier, I mean.”

“With him?” Haechan questions.

“She looks happier with him,” Yeri smiles proudly. “She also looks like she’s been set free.”

Haechan purses his lips into a tight line, letting out a sigh that Yeri can’t tell if it was a happy or sad sigh. He falls back against the snow, muttering to himself. “Oh boy, this isn’t going to end well.”

“Did you say something?”

“Me? No, nothing at all.”

The fireplace is the only thing keeping you warm in the surprisingly cold living room. You’re sitting right in front of it with a fresh mug of hot chocolate for good measure. Everyone’s sound asleep in their rooms, but you somehow can’t seem to fall asleep. Placing your mug onto the coffee stand, you pull your knees to your chest and you rest your chin on top of your knees. 

“You’re still awake?”

You look over your shoulder to spot Jaehyun standing at the doorway. He looks like he had just woken up from his deep slumber. He’s rubbing the sleep from his eyes and trudges his way towards you. You look up at him, nodding your head. “I can’t sleep.”

“You know, I’m sure your parents are wondering why we’re sleeping in different rooms.” Jaehyun suddenly brings up. 

You scoff. “I am not sleeping in the same bed with you—”

“We don’t have to. I’ll just take the couch and you can sleep on the bed.” Jaehyun shrugs his shoulders, pointing at your mug of hot chocolate. “I’ll take the couch if you make me a cup of hot chocolate.”

“Why are you even awake?”

Jaehyun clamps his mouth shut. He scratches the back of his neck. “I noticed your door was open and I was wondering if you were still awake.”

You smirk. “You were concerned about me? How sweet.”

“Shut up.” He grumbles. “Go make me a cup of hot chocolate.”

You smile evilly. “No.”

Jaehyun’s too tired to bicker with you. He ends up occupying the empty spot right next to you in front of the fireplace. He hears you let out a sigh. “Do you think your parents believe it?”

“Believe what?”

He looks at you as if you’re stupid. “That we’re dating.”

“Oh,” you laugh. “I guess? My mom hasn’t spoken to me about you yet. Well, aside from that time she told me how much she liked you—”

“Your mom likes me?” He asks. “For you?”

You frown. “Unfortunately.”

“Admit it, I am the best person to take home for Christmas.” Jaehyun says with a smug grin.

You roll your eyes. “It was so peaceful before you joined me. Do you mind just going back to sleep and leaving me alone?”

“Fine, fine, fine, I’ll just shut up.” Jaehyun gives up, settling his gaze back to the fire. 

It’s silent for a couple of minutes. There are so many things running through your head. You’re not sure where to start. Heck, you’re not even sure if you’ll ever stop thinking too much about the past. Jaehyun seems to notice how silent you’ve gotten. He shifts his gaze and stares at you. You have a distant look. Your eyes seem to sparkle, captivating him. He could see the gears shifting in your head.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Jaehyun clears his throat. “Why did you and Taehyung break up?”

You look at him with a broken gaze and it’s enough for Jaehyun’s heart to ache. You’re surely not over him. In fact, you look far from it. But he couldn’t blame you, you and Taehyung dated for six years. Six years of memories with someone special isn’t something to forget about so easily. 

You laugh it off, but your teary eyes tell something else. “He cheated on me.”

“That…” Jaehyun trails off. “Sucks.”

You stare at him with raised eyebrows before bursting out into laughter. “That’s your reaction? That… sucks?”

“Well, I think Taehyung lost someone special.” Jaehyun says, avoiding your gaze. He looks at the fire, a smile threatening to spread across his lips. “I’m sure he regrets it now. If not now, he’ll surely regret it later on.”

“You see, the Jaehyun I’m talking to right now is much more pleasant.” You bite back a smile. “Why can’t you just be nice, like a decent person?”

“Look, this isn’t a one-way thing. Why can’t you just be nice either?” He asks and immediately, you’re both back to enemies. 

It falls silent again. 

“But, do you really think so?” 

“Think about what?”

“That Taehyung lost someone special?” You whisper. 

Jaehyun meets your eyes. Your eyes aren’t as glassy anymore. In fact, they look a bit more hopeful, a bit more happier. It makes his heart beat a beat too many. 

“I know so.”

When my MOON rises, your SUN rises as well, under the same sky.

You’re almost halfway through your Christmas holiday with your parents and you can’t wait to go home. You can’t wait to go back to your normal, Jaehyun-free life. You’re sure Jaehyun can’t wait either. Your eyes flutter open and you’re immediately blinded by the sunlight peeking through the blinds. You let out a yawn, slowly sitting up on your bed and stretching your arms out. 

Your arms drop when you feel an arm wrapped around your waist. Your eyes slightly widen. Glancing to your left, you see Jaehyun fast asleep. Tucking strands of your hair behind your ear, an idea pops into your head. With a mischievous grin, you quietly grab your phone from the bedside table, going to your phone camera. You slowly hold up your phone in front of Jaehyun’s face. His lips are slightly parted open and he lets out a snore that sounds like the honk of a car. 

“This is perfect blackmail.”

Just as you’re about to take a picture, Jaehyun’s eyes flutter open and widen when he realizes that you’re attempting to take a picture of him— “Give me that!”

You let out a yelp. He grabs your phone and you use all of your willpower to tug your phone away from him. It’s a game of tug-of-war with your phone. Jaehyun’s much stronger and he yanks your phone with all of his might, causing you to fall on top of him. Your hands are pressed against his chest and he’s got his eyes clenched shut. You tilt your head in confusion, why are his eyes—

He peeps one eye open. “Why are your eyes closed?”

His other eye opens. “My eyes weren’t—I had something in my eye.”

“Yeah?” You grin. “Then why are your ears red again?”

“They’re not red—” 

“They are!” You exclaim, pointing at them as you move off of him. Out of instinct, he covers his ears with his freakishly large hands. 

“They’re not.”

You raise up your hands in defeat. “Fine.”

He slowly uncovers his ears that are still red. “Good morning, I guess—”

“Y/N! Jaehyun! The skating rink opened! Let’s go before it gets crowded!”

“Time to get out of bed, Jungwoo, stop worrying.” Jungwoo tells himself, slapping his cheeks and getting up from bed. 

All week, he’s been worrying about you and Jaehyun. Things could either work out really well, or it’ll all crash and burn. He shrugs off his thoughts, finally getting out of bed to make himself some breakfast. As he trudges his way to the kitchen, he stops in his tracks when he spots his projector still sitting on the coffee table. 

“How could I forget to put that away?” Jungwoo scolds himself, walking over to the coffee table. He opens  his laptop to disconnect the projector, only to stop. 

The PowerPoint he made specifically for you is still open on his laptop. He had probably gotten a bit too drunk from the beer you both had that night and forgot all about it. He goes through the PowerPoint and stops at one particular slide, a soft smile spreading across his lips.

Although he forgot all about the projector and his laptop, there’s one thing he remembers from that night. 

“I guess she’ll never know what reason number five is.”

“You don’t know how to skate?”

Jaehyun stands near the board, holding onto the railings for his dear life. It’s a funny sight, in fact, it has you doubling over in laughter. Haechan and Yeri had already ventured off, skating with each other on the ice, bickering like the cousins they are, and making each other trip because concussions are the sweetest revenge. You’re stuck with Jaehyun near the boards, waiting for him to gain the courage to push himself onto the ice.

“It’s not that bad, Jaehyun.” You reassure him. You hesitatingly extend your arm out to him. “In fact, if you trust me enough, let me teach you.”

“You’re not going to make me fall on my face, are you?” He squints his eyes at you with suspicion.

“I mean, I could,” you shrug your shoulders. “But I’m not that evil.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“I mean, I trusted you enough to help me and pretend to be my boyfriend in front of my family. You could’ve just sabotaged my plan and embarrassed me instead.” You answer.

You had a point. He lets out a sigh, grabbing your hand. Funny thing is that Jaehyun’s hand doesn’t feel sweaty this time around. It feels soft, warm, and perfect in yours. It’s like your hands were meant to hold each other. You begin to skate slowly and you could feel Jaehyun’s reluctance. 

“Just trust me, Jaehyun.”

“I’m trying—”

“Then try harder, doofus!”

“Okay, Jesus—oof!”

Jaehyun slips, completely making a fool out of himself. The way he falls looks extremely embarrassing and there are a couple of kids laughing at him. You frown, looking down at him. He sighs, his back falling against the ice. Suddenly, Jaehyun sees you fake a fall, falling down right next to him. 

“Did you just—”

“Fake a fall? For you? Yes.” You cut him off. “Just go with it.”

“Wait, why?” He chuckles.

“Because your fall is giving me second-hand embarrassment.” You mumble. “Now, let’s get back up and start again. I’m sure you’ll get a hang of it soon.”

And so you both start again. Jaehyun’s hand absentmindedly reaches out to grab yours, interlocking his fingers with yours. At first, you help Jaehyun skate by skating backwards and bringing him along with you. It takes him a couple of falls and trips, but it’s not long until he’s almost getting the hang of it. 

“I told you, it’s not that bad.” You smile.

“I think I can do it.” Jaehyun says softly.

“Do you think so?” You question.

He slowly nods his head. “I might as well try.”

“Alright, I’ll be standing over there. I want you to skate to me.” You point towards one of the corners a couple of metres away. You glance at Jaehyun. “Are you sure you could do it?”

“Let me try.” He insists.

Before you skate off, you let go of Jaehyun’s hand. The warmth of your hand immediately vanishes, and suddenly, Jaehyun feels like he’s missing something. He stares at your back as you skate away. When you turn around to face him, he quickly shifts his gaze away from you. You open your arms, gesturing for him to begin skating over. He sucks in a deep breath and begins to skate over, slowly but surely. You find Jaehyun quite adorable and it makes you start to smile.

Jaehyun looks up from the ice to look at you. You’re smiling at him. But the smile you have on is a different smile. It’s bright, so bright that it blinds him. Your smile feels so foreign, yet so familiar. It’s so familiar that it reminds him of the time when you were both fifteen. It reminds him of the moment you confessed your crush on him. It’s so foreign that it’s been ages since he last saw a smile like that on your face. He’s not sure if Taehyung made you smile that way. He could feel his heart shrivel up, time slow down, and all he could think about are the ways he could make you smile like that forever—

“Oh!”

Jaehyun falls, his butt landing on the ice with a soft thud. You gasp, your mouth hanging open in shock. The both of you just stare at each other in surprise before you’re the first one to break it. You wheeze out into laughter, bending over as you continue to laugh at him. Jaehyun’s too absorbed by your adorable laughter that rings in your ears that it makes him start to laugh with you. 

From a couple of metres away, Haechan slows down and watches the both of you laugh. Jaehyun’s sitting on the ice and you’re bending over, laughing so hard that even Haechan can hear it. 

“This is surely not going to end well.”

On the fourth day, you’re all rummaging through the cabinets for recipe ingredients. Apparently Haechan still thinks Santa exists and so now you’re all spiralling into a mess trying to bake Santa a batch of cookies. Yeri slams the bag of flour onto the countertop and sighs. Jaehyun’s busy mixing the butter, brown sugar, and white sugar in a bowl. You’re greasing the pans and preheating the oven. 

“You know, Santa doesn’t exist—”

“Shut up, Jaehyun!” Haechan gives Jaehyun a warning look. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Jaehyun wipes the sweat off his forehead and glances at you. You’re putting a couple cups of flour into the bowl. A smile slowly occupies his lips when he notices your dusty hair that’s covered in flour. His eyes trail down towards your face, his smile widening, there are some traces of flour on your cheeks. You wipe your cheek, only to make it worse.

He’s itching to wipe the flour off your cheeks, but why does he suddenly feel shy and hesitant to do it? The both of you are supposed to act like a couple. At first, it was so easy for him to pretend to be your boyfriend. But why did it suddenly become difficult? When did it suddenly become difficult?

“Why are you looking at me, love?” Jaehyun snaps out of his trance, caught red-handed. 

He shakes his head, still smiling. “Nothing.”

“You’ve got flour on your face, dumb dumb.” Haechan points at your cheek. 

“I do?” You ask, your hands immediately reaching for your cheeks until—

Jaehyun gently wipes the flour off of your cheeks. His eyes are focused on your cheeks that are heating up with embarrassment. He looks… handsome—

“Thanks.” You stop yourself from thinking too much. 

This is all fake. Remember that.

Jaehyun looks at you with an expression you can’t read. He gives you a genuine smile.

“No problem, love.”

“Jaehyun, do you mind checking up on the cookies?” 

Haechan wakes Jaehyun up from his nap. All it takes is a light nudge and a couple of pokes to the cheek for him to get up from the couch. He looks out the window and surprisingly, it’s snowing. Jaehyun stretches his arms out, slowly getting up from the couch. He trudges his way to the kitchen to find you washing the dishes. He’s about to call out your name, but he stops himself. You’re humming to yourself, rinsing the dishes underneath the water. As you place the clean dishes onto the dish rack, you walk over towards the oven to check up on the cookies.

You squat down, looking through the window to see the cookies almost done baking. Suddenly, you see someone squat down next to you from your peripheral vision. You make the biggest mistake of turning your head. Jaehyun’s already looking back at you, his face inches away from yours. You could feel your heartbeat pick up its pace. 

You clear your throat, quickly looking away from him and acting as if nothing had happened. You point at the cookies. “I think they’re almost done. Let’s give it a couple more minutes—”

“You’re pretty.”

You slowly meet his gaze, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “S-Sorry?”

Jaehyun snaps out of it. “I said, you look like a piggie.”

You scoff, pushing his shoulders. He falls back onto the hardwood floors with a soft thud, glaring at you. You roll your eyes, getting up from your squat position to get back to dishwashing. 

“Piggie, my ass.” You grumble underneath your breath.

You’re scared. You’ve never felt this scared.

The last time Jaehyun ever made your heart race was when you were fifteen. He should not be letting your heart race like that again.

But it is.

“I can’t believe it’s already Christmas Eve.”

“I’m happy this week is almost over.”

You and Jaehyun are in the bathroom, brushing your teeth. He finishes first, wiping his mouth with a face towel and throwing it in your face. You yell at him, grabbing the towel and throwing it at his back. “I’m glad I don’t have to romantically associate myself with you after this.”

Jaehyun raises his hands up. “Surprise, surprise, me too. Two more days of this shit and I’ll finally be free. Don’t forget that vintage turntable you promised me—”

“I never break my promises—”

“I didn’t say that—”

“But you were implying it—”

“Babe, I’ll be downstairs to help set up the dining table for breakfast.” There’s a sudden change in Jaehyun’s voice, making you straighten up your posture. It happens out of instinct. You clear your throat, stepping out of the bathroom to see your mother entering the bedroom.

“Mom, hey,” you greet her nervously, scratching the back of your neck. “Did you need something?”

She shakes her head, a small smile on her lips and she makes herself comfortable on the edge of your bed. You awkwardly stand in front of the bathroom, fiddling with your fingers, a bad habit of yours that you can’t seem to drop. Jaehyun picks up your mannerism and slowly exits the bedroom to leave the two of you alone. Why was this making him feel nervous? Did your mother see through the two of you?

“I just wanted to check up on you,” she says softly. “About you and Taehyung.”

You bite your lip. “I don’t think there’s much to say about Taehyung and I—”

“Why didn’t you tell me that the both of you broke up?” She asks with concern. “Were you afraid that we would be worried about you?”

You slowly nod your head in reply. “I was terrified.”

“Well, you can always tell me anything. You know that.” She reminds you.

You let out a soft sigh. You’re so close to telling your mom the truth. That this whole relationship with Jaehyun is a lie, that it’s a front to keep them from feeling disappointed in you. That Jaehyun is merely just an enemy, someone far from your boyfriend. But you bite your tongue to stop yourself.

“Taehyung cheated on me,” you whisper. Scratch that, it barely comes out above a whisper. Your mom is silent. You bite your lip. “I know. I reacted the same way.”

“How long? When did you find out?” She questions. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. He doesn’t deserve you.”

Then, who does? Who deserves you? Do you deserve to be loved? The thought makes your eyes water, but you blink them away before your mom notices. You can’t look weak in front of her, she will only see right through you. 

“I found out a year and a couple of months before we broke up.” You answer and your voice almost cracks. “He’s been seeing her for a while. I mean, we’ve been dating for six years and I found out he started seeing her when we were four years in.”

“Are you okay?” She asks. “Will you be okay?”

You purse your lips into a tight line. “I hope so. I mean, Jaehyun’s been too good to me and sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve it—”

“From the looks of it, Jaehyun’s keeping you happy.” Your mom smiles. “But what makes me sad are the times you came home with Taehyung for Christmas and acted like everything between the both of you was alright, when you knew that he was seeing someone else.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you.” You whisper.

She shakes your head. “You’ll never disappoint me, Y/N. I will always be proud of you.”

The tears flow down so easily. Your mom pulls you into an embrace and gives you gentle, soothing rubs on the back. You warm up to her embrace, snuggling into her neck and letting out a sigh of relief. 

“Besides, I think Jaehyun is doing a pretty good job at helping you move on. You look different to how you looked when you were with Taehyung. There’s something more brighter and prettier about your smile that you have on whenever you’re with Jaehyun.” Your mom explains.

“You think so?”

She smiles. 

“Yes, I do.”

The four of you sit in front of the fire, all sporting the same pair of red, plaid pajamas and ugly sweaters. There are four presents sitting right in front of you, waiting to be given out. It was Haechan’s idea to stay up until midnight, where it’d officially be Christmas Day and you could open your Secret Santa gifts. Patience is such a virtue, and Haechan clearly doesn’t have it. 

“I can’t believe the week is almost over.”

Haechan doesn’t get a single word from any of you. You’re a bit tipsy to find the right words to say to him. The Christmas Eve dinner was eventful but you can’t seem to stop thinking about how Jaehyun looked at you from across the dining table. There’s something different about the way he looks at you now, and it bothers you.

You feel a slight nudge. You glance to your side to meet Jaehyun’s gaze. “What?”

“Do you remember when you first confessed to me?” 

You scoff, covering it up with a cough in case Yeri picks up your sudden change in attitude. You say through gritted teeth, “Of course I do, babe. Do you remember?”

Jaehyun’s close to chuckling. He tears his gaze away from you and stares at the fire. It reminds him of that night at the campsite, where the both of you were setting up the bonfire. He remembers finding you really pretty and adorable that night, and he was itching to tell you. But he couldn’t do it. He remembers hearing you call out his name with a soft voice, how his heart skipped a beat. You were looking up at him with hopeful eyes. And then you confessed to him.

“Of course I do,” he mumbles with a shy smile on his lips. “How could I ever forget?”

You’re staring at him a bit too much. The small smile on his lips kind of throws you off. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. It comes out as a whisper. “What do you mean?”

It seems he has heard you because he shrugs his shoulders. “What do you think I mean?”

You’re tipsy. “You’re being extremely confusing, Jaehyun.”

When Jaehyun finds the courage to look at you, you almost let out a soft gasp. The way he looks at you is the same way he looked at you that night at the campsite. It terrifies you. You look away from him.

“Do you regret it?”

“Regret what?”

“Confessing to me that night.” He clarifies for you.

You purse your lips into a tight line. “A huge part of me does, but that’s only because you rejected me.”

“I did not reject your confession.” 

You scoff. “Yeah, because flat out saying ‘I don’t return the same feelings as you.’ isn’t considered a rejection.”

“Would you ever,” he begins to ask, but he stops himself. 

“Would I ever, what?”

“Would you ever fall in love with someone like me?” He questions. “No, would you ever like me? Again?”

You’re definitely drunk.

“If you weren’t so much of an annoying brat, I would.”

“You would?”

“Sure. Maybe in a heartbeat.”

And in a heartbeat, Jaehyun finds himself feeling terrified because the feelings that he forced himself not to feel anymore don’t seem to leave, but instead grow stronger. Why did he have to be in love with you? Why is he such a coward? A fool? He’s not sure. But being in love with you is the best thing he’s ever done, and if being in love with you was a mistake… it would be his most beautiful mistake that he’s ever made.

And a beautiful mistake you truly are, when he carefully holds your face in his large hands, when he watches your eyes flutter shut as he leans in, when your lips are inches away from each other, when he kisses you out on the porch underneath the snowflakes falling from the sky.

As you both pull away, time that felt frozen had gone back to normal and the images that remain stuck in his mind is the look of confusion you had given him and the J necklace he gifted you that’s wrapped around your neck. 

“I have another gift for you, Y/N.”

“What is it?” You ask softly. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I had to, I was your Secret Santa, right?” He pulls out another box from his pocket and hands it to you. He sucks in a deep breath. “I hope you like it.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, eyes trailing down to the box into your hands. You gently open the box and you could feel your breath getting caught in your throat.

It’s the silver lockit you’ve always wanted but never got. 

The only difference is that you’re not sure if you wanted it after finding out Taehyung cheated on you.

Jungwoo pulls up to the cottage with an empty trunk and free hugs. You and Jaehyun step out of the cottage, not uttering a single word to each other since that night out on the porch. You didn’t care if your parents noticed that distance you both had in between each other, you were too lost in your thoughts and feelings. The moment Jungwoo spots the two of you out on the porch, he feels his heart stop. Something surely happened between the two of you. 

“You better have that PS5 ready. I kept this relationship under wraps for a whole week.” Haechan whispers into Jaehyun’s ear when he puts him into a headlock. 

Jaehyun shoves him away. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“You’re leaving soon?” You ask Haechan. 

He shakes his head. “We’re gonna stay back with your family for the rest of the day. We’re leaving tomorrow morning. I kind of wish you guys stayed just a little bit longer.”

“I was only able to book a week off from work. Sorry, Haechan.” You frown. The both of you hug. “It was nice seeing you again after so long. Study hard, alright? If a girl breaks your heart, just let me know who I have to fight.”

And soon enough, you’re both heading towards Jungwoo. Your parents are waving you goodbye from the porch and Jungwoo starts driving down the road. Jungwoo looks at the both of you through the rearview mirror, wincing when Jaehyun’s lips part to start a conversation, but you quickly look away from him and out the window to avoid it. 

What happened, exactly?

“Thanks for the ride, Jungwoo.” 

With the slam of a trunk, you meet Jaehyun’s eyes and purse your lips into a tight line. You fake a smile. “Thanks for helping me, Jaehyun. I really appreciate it. I’ll get you your vintage LP turntable as soon as—”

“You don’t need to get it anymore,” he mumbles, shaking his head. “I was kidding anyways.”

“Alright,” you mumble. “I’ll get going. I’m sure the both of you are tired from the trip—”

Jaehyun feels his heart clench. “Can we—Can we talk?”

Jungwoo bites his lip nervously. You look at Jungwoo from over your shoulder with a questioning gaze. He gestures for you to take your time and he swore he saw you grimace. You smile at Jaehyun, but Jaehyun knows it’s not genuine. “Sure.”

Jaehyun helps you bring your luggage inside of your apartment, placing them right near the door. You stand a few metres away from the door, giving him some space to stand at least a metre away from you. He clears his throat. “So—”

“What is it that you wanted to talk about?” 

He clamps his mouth shut. He feels his hands grow sweaty. “I wanted to talk about last night and why it seems as if you’re avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you, Jaehyun—”

“You are.” Jaehyun cuts you off. “I know you are, but could you at least tell me why?”

“I don’t think we should.” You bite your lip.

He frowns. “Is it because of the necklace?”

You let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head. “No, it’s not because of the necklace—”

“So, it is because of the necklace—”

“Fine. It is because of the necklace. You want to talk about it? Fine.” You let out a frustrated sigh. “Why did you think that this would be a good idea? To give me a necklace that does nothing but remind me of my cheating ex? Right after you kissed me, too?”

“I thought it would give you closure—”

“Closure?!” You let out a bitter laugh. “For what?”

“Because Taehyung is holding you back. Your relationship with him is holding you back. You need to move on, Y/N. Taehyung is not coming back for you—” He begins to explain.

“I’ve established that fact the moment he left me for her. Besides, my relationships are none of your business. On top of that, why do you care so much? This is my life, not yours—”

“Maybe I care so much because—because I—” His heart hurts so much.

“Don’t you dare finish your sentence. I’m sick and tired of your jokes, Jaehyun. Y/N this and Y/N that. Budding crush here and embarrassing crush there. Whatever happened when we were fifteen will remain in the past. I liked you, you didn’t like me back and rejected me—” You look broken.

“Wait, what?” He looks at you with confusion. “I didn’t reject you. In fact, when you confessed to me that night, I was on top of the world because I returned the same feelings—fuck, I still do—”

“You laughed at me when I told you that I liked you—”

“And then you took it the wrong way. Months after that summer, I was figuring out why you were avoiding me, why you were ignoring me, why we suddenly became strangers, only to find out that you’re dating Taehyung—” You look at him incredulously.

“Is that why you decided to help me? Because I look like some charity case, huh? Because you felt bad that my six-year relationship ended with a third party? Or you just wanted to have fun and laugh at me for being so weak? For being the poor little girl who got left behind because her stupid little boyfriend got bored of her? Or you just—”

“You’re not a charity case and you never will be—”

“Then, why?! Why are you helping me? Why do you care so much—” You yell out with frustration.

“Because I’m in love with you, Y/N. I’ve always been in love with you, but you were always running away. And I was always trying to chase after you. I still am. I figured helping you do this for your parents would give me a chance to—” He confesses.

“What? A chance for me to start liking you again? To fall in love with you again?” You mumble. You shake your head. “You had your chance when we were fifteen, Jaehyun. It’s been six years.”

“Y/N—”

“You had many chances. You’re nothing but a coward and a fool.” You point at the door. “Now, please leave. I’ve had enough of this.”

“I—” He begins before he cuts himself off. “Fine, I’ll leave. Whatever suits you, I guess.”

You watch him breathlessly as he steps out of your apartment and slams the door behind him. You flinch at the sound, breaking down completely when you sit on the hardwood floors of your apartment. Jaehyun lets out a sigh, hearing you start to cry from outside your door. He fights himself from knocking on your door to comfort you, but he figures he’s the reason why you’re crying.

As he steps out of the building, Jungwoo frowns upon spotting him. 

Something surely did happen.

And it’s surely not good.

That half-full MOON looks just like me right now. Nothing comes even close to having half of you. If only I had just half of you. If only.

Two months later…

“I have a delivery for Jeong Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun looks at the delivery man with confusion. He tilts his head, signing the papers before getting a huge box placed into his arms. “I don’t remember ordering anything but… thank you.”

With disheveled hair and wrinkled clothes, his half-awake self places the box onto the table. He rummages through the drawers in his kitchen for a knife to open the box after struggling to open it with his bare hands. He opens the box and immediately spots a small envelope sitting right on top of an LP turntable. He almost drops the knife out of shock. With shaky hands, he grabs the envelope and traces the handwritten letters that spell out your name.

He carefully pulls out the card and reads what you’ve written in it. Suddenly, he finds himself grabbing his coat from the coat rack and rushing out the door.

A notification pops up on your phone. 

You grab your phone, continuing to brush your teeth. You let out a snort when you hear Jungwoo singing and talking to himself in the kitchen. When you unlock your phone to read the notification, you feel your heart skip a beat. 

Order delivered. Thank you for shopping with us!

You step out of the bathroom after brushing your teeth. “Hey, Jungwoo?”

Jungwoo is in the midst of flipping a pancake, looking over his shoulder. “Oh, you’re awake? Do you need something?”

You shake your head. “No, I don’t need anything. I just wanted to ask if Jaehyun knows that I…”

“Moved out? Moved in with me?” Jungwoo finishes your sentence and you hesitatingly nod. He shakes his head, looking away from you to finish cooking the pancake before burning his fourth one. “No, he doesn’t know. I figured you didn’t want him to know.”

“Ah, I see.” You mumble. 

He stops. “Wait, why’d you ask?”

You shake your head. “Nothing. Hey, do you mind if I use your laptop for something? I just need to clear out my father’s emails. You know him, he always forgets to do it and thinks it’s my responsibility to do it.”

He nods his head. “Yeah, go for it. You don’t even need to ask.”

As you step into your bedroom, you log into your father’s email, only to realize you’ve forgotten the password. You sigh, typing in all the possible passwords from the top of your head, failing to log in successfully. Your last resort is to call your mother to ask for the password.

“And how could I help my lovely daughter on this fine morning?”

“Stop being cringey, mom.” You roll your eyes. 

“Hi, sweetheart. What’s up?” She chuckles. 

“What’s dad’s password to his email? I’m trying to clean out his inbox again. You know, it’s a monthly thing I do for him. I should get more credit.” 

“Alright, the password is your birthday and Jaehyun’s name in capital letters. Funny how your father decided to use that as his password after he needed to renew it during our holiday vacation.” Your mother says and you fall silent. “Speaking of Jaehyun, how are you guys?”

You’re typing in the password and it works. You let out a chuckle. You begin to lie. “Uh… we’re doing alright. It's his birthday tomorrow, actually.”

“Did you get him something?”

You hum in reply. “I did.”

“What did you get him?” You smile.

“Something he always wanted. Something he told me not to get.” You reply, opening a PowerPoint document your father’s client had emailed him. When you open the PowerPoint, you notice another presentation opened on the application. “Sorry, mother, I think I have to call you later.”

“Alright, talk to you soon.”

You toss your phone to the side, clicking on the familiar PowerPoint presentation opened. It pulls up right in front of your eyes and you let out an airy laugh.

Five reasons why Jeong Jaehyun should be the fake boyfriend you’ll bring home for Christmas.

Reason #1: He is a handsome and smooth motherfucker and I’m sure your parents will be very impressed.

There are many times you’ve been left speechless and struck by how charming Jaehyun is. Well, you did have a crush on him when you were fifteen and your parents seemed very convinced when you brought him home for Christmas. 

Reason #2: Johnny is in a relationship, Sicheng is in a relationship and Mark has a crush on your sister. Jungwoo is too obvious and not an option. This makes Jaehyun the perfect candidate.

Jaehyun surely was the perfect candidate. It was almost as if he was meant to pretend to be your boyfriend. It felt so meant to be that a small part of you wished that it was real, but you were too hung up on your last relationship to even notice. 

Reason #3: Yeri and Haechan would definitely approve of Jaehyun.

They both really adored and loved Jaehyun. It’s a huge difference between the awkwardness they felt when you were with Taehyung, especially when you introduced him to them.

Reason #4: You both look good together. You both suit each other. The only problem is that you both hate each other with a lively passion.

From time to time, you would look at the group pictures you took on Christmas Eve in front of the Christmas tree. You would do it to try and imagine a better person standing next to Jaehyun instead of you, simply because you knew you didn’t deserve someone like him. He’s just too good to be true. 

You click onto the next PowerPoint slide and your breath hitches in your throat.

Reason #5: Jaehyun’s in love with you. You just don’t know that he is. But I, Kim Jungwoo, knows. Why and how, you ask? He told me. In fact, Jaehyun’s been in love with you for the longest time… ever since the both of you were fifteen.

You shut the laptop, tossing it to the side and grabbing your phone. It’s almost as if your feet had a mind of its own, dragging you out of your bedroom and straight towards the door. You’re grabbing your coat and keys as you head out without warning—

“Hey, where are you going? We still have to eat breakfast—and she’s gone.” Jungwoo lets out a sigh, looking down at all the pancakes he made and all the burnt ones he placed on another separate plate. He sighs again. “I guess that leaves me with all of these pancakes to eat.”

“Y/N—you are not Y/N.”

An old lady stands at the door, looking at him questioningly. She blinks once and twice before her eyebrows raise. “Ah! Are you looking for Y/N? The beautiful young lady who lived here before me?”

Jaehyun slowly nods his head. “Y-Yes, I’m looking for Y/N.”

The old lady folds her arms. “Well, I could tell you where she is because I know where she moved in. But I’m not sure if I could trust you enough to tell you. Who are you, exactly? And how are you related to her?”

Jaehyun bites his lip. “I’m her… boyfriend. No, ex-boyfriend—actually, I’m not quite sure—”

“Ah, so you’re the guy she was talking about? The coward? The fool?”

Jaehyun smiles sheepishly. “I—I guess that’s me, yes.”

She chuckles. “Alright, Jaehyun—”

“You know my name?”

“Yes, now listen to me carefully before I forget telling you.” She commands. “She moved out a couple of months ago to move in with her best friend. She left me instructions, actually. She told me that if a handsome man shows up at the door and introduces himself as Jaehyun, I must tell him that he’s a coward and a fool.”

He scoffs. “What is with her?”

“But,” she smiles. “She also asked me if I could tell him where she moved in case he looks for her. She said she’s sure it’s not going to happen, but she asked me to do this favour for her just in case it does.”

“T-Thank you,” he whispers. 

“Now, I’m sure you know which best friend she lives with. But before you leave, I want you to remember one thing.” She continues. “Before you find her, go and grab her some flowers. When you finally find her, don’t chicken out and tell her exactly how you feel. I’m not sure why she calls you a coward and a fool, but if it’s because you weren’t true with your feelings to her, then use this as your second chance.”

Jaehyun chuckles. “I’ll make sure of that.”

She shoos him away. “Now, get going. You might catch her on time.”

And Jaehyun follows her advice. On his way to Jungwoo’s apartment, he drops by a flower shop. He picks up a bouquet of white lilies and pink daisies. He rushes out of the flower shop and starts sprinting to Jungwoo’s apartment a couple of blocks away. 

As he reaches the apartment building, he presses the button for the elevator. When the elevator doors open, he almost rushes into someone until—

“Jaehyun?”

You’re looking at Jaehyun. You both look out of breath. You gawk at him with shock that you barely utter a word except for his name. Jaehyun snaps out of it, walking into the elevator and you back up, your back gently pressed against the wall. You watch him as he presses the buttons to all 20 floors of the apartment building before closing the elevator doors. 

“What are you doing—”

“For you.” He hands you a bouquet of lilies and daisies. You awkwardly take the flowers from him. 

“T-Thanks.” You whisper, losing confidence just because you’re not sure what to expect from him. 

You both face yourselves away from each other. As you reach the second floor, Jaehyun closes the doors right when they open. He scratches the back of his neck. 

“So, when did you move out?”

You bite your lip. “Two months ago.”

He hums in reply. Another awkward silence fills the atmosphere. 

“How have you been?” You both ask in unison before smiling sheepishly. You shyly look away from him. 

“I’ve been great. But I could be doing better.” He says softly. “With you.”

You look up at him. He’s already looking at you. “I assume the old grandma told you where I moved.”

He slowly nods his head. “Yeah.”

“Ah, I see.” You say softly. 

The elevator reaches the third floor. The doors open and Jaehyun closes them immediately. You bite your lip. “Look, Jaehyun—”

“You know, I’m still in love with you.” He confesses again. “I mean, I always have. It’s not like I can force myself to stop being in love with you because I tried and it’s impossible to do and so—”

“Jaehyun, you’re rambling.”

“Am I?” He laughs nervously, looking away from you. “Sorry, I do that when I’m nervous and I’m really nervous right now.”

“Did you get the—”

“The LP turntable?” Jaehyun asks and you nod your head. “Yeah, I did. I got it this morning. T-Thanks.”

You smile. “No problem—”

“You remembered.” He mumbles. “I didn’t think you would remember. I didn’t even think you would get me one either, but you did.”

“How could I forget?”

Another awkward silence. Fourth floor, same routine. The doors open and Jaehyun closes them. 

“Y/N, please say something because I feel really nervous right now and I’m not sure if you’re mad at me or if you’re sad or if you just really don’t want to talk to me and if you don’t, that’s completely fine, just tell me and I’ll hop off on the next floor—”

“I’m not mad at you, Jaehyun. I mean, if I am, I would be the one getting off the elevator right now.” You cut off his ramble. “And you’re rambling again.”

“Sorry, it’s a bad habit.” He apologizes. “So, you’re not mad at me?”

“How could I be mad at you?” You chuckle. “Besides, I feel nervous standing next to you right now. It reminds me of how I felt when I was about to confess to you when we were fifteen.”

Fifth floor. “O-Oh? Really?”

You reach out to press the button to close the doors. “Yeah.”

“Well, as I was saying, I’m still in love with you, Y/N. You don’t have to return the same feelings. I just felt like telling you would clear things up. You can forget about me after this, but I just didn’t want you to remember me as the fool and the coward and just—”

“So, you were in love with me since we were fifteen?”

“God, yes.” He sighs. “I’ve been in love with you for the longest time. When I told you that, I knew you wouldn’t believe me and I understand if you still don’t. But I’m telling you the truth—”

“When do you want to come home and visit my parents?”

You ask. 

“Wait, why?” Jaehyun asks, letting out another nervous laugh. Sixth floor and the doors close again. “Y/N, you’re being a bit confusing right now—”

“My parents miss you, actually. I missed you.” You explain. “But you don’t need to if you don’t want to—”

“I can pretend to be your boyfriend again, Y/N. Anything for you—”

“Not as my fake boyfriend, but as my real boyfriend.” You correct him. 

He stares at you. “Are you in love with me?”

You feel your cheeks heat up. “How could I not be?”

The elevator stops at the seventh floor. Jaehyun breaks out into the biggest smile, gently grabbing your cheeks and crashing his lips onto yours. You stumble back from the impact. He walks forward and you walk backward until you're both standing in the corner. He kisses you passionately and gently that it makes you weak in the knees. 

“Y/N? You forgot to bring this—oh fuck, what the fuck?!” Jungwoo sees the both of you making out in the elevator when the doors open. Jaehyun quickly presses the button to close the door. You giggle, pulling him closer, not wanting any of this to end. 

Jungwoo scrunches up his nose in disgust. “Gross. But cute. I think my work here is done.”

“Babe, I’ll be over there getting popcorn for us. Alright?”

You nod. “Alright. I’ll go and buy the tickets.”

Jaehyun boops your nose with the tip of his finger before heading towards the food court. You’re printing out tickets with the self-checkout booth. Just as you’re about to move to the side for someone else to use the booth, you hear your name being called out but it’s not Jaehyun’s voice. 

You look up from your tickets to see—

“Taehyung?” You squint your eyes to get a better look of the guy approaching you. Indeed, it’s your ex, Taehyung. “Oh, it is you.”

“Long time no see.” He smiles. He’s about to reach in for a hug but you stand still. He chuckles sheepishly. “How have you been?”

You smile. “Better. You? How are you and Injae?”

His smile falters. “We’ve… We’re not together anymore, actually.”

“Ah, I see. Sorry about that.” You apologize. 

“Have you—Have you been seeing anyone, lately? I mean, there must be a reason why we’ve bumped into each other. It must be a sign—”

An arm is thrown over your shoulder and you’re being kept close to Jaehyun, who had come in just in time with the popcorn. “Yeah, I’m assuming that that reason would be to tell you that Y/N’s off the market and will be for a long time. Exes are exes for a reason. And a sign? This must be a sign to tell you to back off.”

“You’re together? The two of you?” Taehyung scoffs. 

“Yes, and?” Jaehyun quirks an eyebrow. “Anyways, it was nice seeing you Taehyung.”

“I—” 

“And I hope this will be the last time too.” Jaehyun smiles, before looking at you. “When did you say your parents were going to arrive, again?”

You chuckle, watching Taehyung walk away with defeat. “They’ll be here soon. I’m sure they can’t wait to see you.”

“There they are!”

Coincidentally, your parents arrive and rush over. Your mother combs out her hair with her fingers and lets out a sigh of relief. “I thought we were late.”

“Nothing to worry about, in fact, you came just in time.” You laugh, looking up at Jaehyun. “Actually, there’s someone I want to introduce to you.”

“Who? Jaehyun?” Your father asks before chuckling. “Silly you, we know who he is—”

Jaehyun extends his hand out to them. “Hi, I’m Jaehyun, Y/N’s boyfriend.”

“But—wait, what?”

And funny as it is, the two of you have a lot of explaining to do.

Baby steps.

author’s note. merry christmas everyone! hope you’ve been staying safe and healthy! take care always and please feel free to send me feedback! it’ll be very much appreciated! i hope you enjoyed this christmas fic!

[oviids]

pls share some of your spn fic recs 🥺🥺

ok, a few things first:

followers and mutuals who do not have supernatural brainworms, kindly avert your eyes

i don’t normally rec or even read much fanfic any more but this is a CRISIS ok (cont.)

there is so. much. content for deancas out there and i have incredibly high standards, several ancient ao3 bookmarks, can speedread, and want to spare you guys the experience of wading through it all.

i also have a section for spn femslash since I was pretty into that back in the day (sadly a lot less fan content for this :/)

I don’t really like au’s or pure smut (I honestly usually just skim or skip those scenes) so if you’re mainly looking for that kind of thing this probably won’t be very helpful to you. jsyk.

i’m not great at describing stuff but i’ll do my best, i’ll also try and add tw’s when neccesary.

i wil try and keep updating this with any other decent fics i find, feel free to rec stuff too since i’m like 7 years behind.(edit 1/25/21) this is getting looooong so i’m going to start making another list on my spn blog rather than update this one

(edit 1/3/21) since this has gotten pretty long i’ve added rating/approximate word counts and marked my particular favorites with an asterisk.

Dean/Cas fic:

So Says The Sword*** - explicit/85k. FUCK its good...au/time travel where dean is not pulled out of hell by cas and says yes to becoming the michael sword. honestly could serve as an alternative to actually watching the show, if you want to get into dean/cas without actually doing that to yourself.

Fata morgana.*  - teen/6k, pst s9 finale. very bela centric and i love it, she finds cas looking for dean in hell.

Redemption Road -misc/600+k. an incredibly long fic from a collaborative writing group back in the day. canon divergent from the end of s6 on, has a cool take on godstiel and the leviathans, as well as the lovecratian mythos connection. ngl when i reread it i only made it about 28% in but imo the casual reader can actually stop around there, the rest concerns a lovecraftian apocalypse that is still good (i think i don’t remember it very well) but not required to enjoy the first half. if you prefer i have an ebook version i can send you on gdrive.

Someone Who's Feeling For Me* - mature/45k, s12. they run into lisa braeden and dean thinks cas is into her while cas thinks dean still likes her. treats lisa way better than the show ever did and the miscommunication is pretty funny rather than annoying.

a turn of the earth - mature/95k. time travel fic where cas from s10 keeps showing up in deans life from a few years before s1 to right before the hellhounds take his soul.  slow burn, good character study, and at one point cas punches the dad in the face and it rules.

On the Wings of War - teen/85k, canon divergent s5. dean accidentally becomes the Horseman of War. plays fun, fast and loose with biblical lore, michael has some rights.

Named - mature/95k, alternate s5. EXTREMELY blasphemous in a fun sexy way. manages to predict metatron almost to a T. there’s one major character death and its literally jesus christ, everyone is very sad about it and it sets the rest of the story rolling. an alternate interpretation of cas’ mission to raise dean from hell which had me on the floor. ngl its kind of misogynistic at points, but its from 2010 and tracks with late oughts-2010 spn (sorry anna the author did you dirty here:/).

The Girlfriend Experience - explicit/15k. uhhh i don’t normally rec or even read smutty stuff unless someone i know is specifically asking for it but this has stuff like sam trying to be a good ally and dean thinking holding hands with cas is ‘kinda gay :/’ minutes after having gay sex with him.

i crippled your heart a hundred times - explicit/19k, s8. cas confesses his feelings and dean spends a long time getting his head out of his ass about it. truly hits different after the actual confession, despite being written six years early it feels like its actually what could have gone down more or less if the writers weren’t talentless demons who hate us.

My Roots Take Flight** - mature/125k. reverse au where cas is a hunter and dean’s an angel...OR IS IT???? an alternate retelling of s4. tw for briefly being set in a psychiatric hospital/the hospital being mentioned somewhat frequently throughout the fic, plus more references to torture in hell and heaven than usual.

The One Thing You Can't Lose* - teen/4k.you know those posts about how cas is a super-strong super-tough ancient warrior but he just lets dean tug him around because he likes it? thats it thats the fic.

Hands, From Which All Things Are Built - teen/14k, post s8′s ‘goodbye stranger.’ cas is on the run with the angel tablet but keeps in touch with sam and dean by text, he and dean still manage to be terrible at Actual communication.

Autrement, Danger - or, The Account of an Exceedingly Long Day - mature/30k, post s11. a monster that takes the appearance of your soulmate leads to some wild miscommunications and dealing with years of repression, also dean gets to see cas’ true form which is always cool. tw for non-graphic mentions of underage sexual assault/sex work.

Down to Agincourt - mature/explicit/900++++k, endverse continuation. endverse!cas survives his encounter with lucifer and discovers another time-displaced dean from s7. i’ve only read the two of four parts but its really good, veeeeery slow burn, has a lot of fun oc’s and takes a rather surprising but (imo) entertaining and intriguing turn into Hellenic history and mythology. usual tw’s for endverse/endverse!cas but nothing graphic, it’s actually pretty light-hearted (relatively speaking of course).

Nothing Equals the Splendor** - explicit/8k, THEE finale fix it fic you’ve been waiting for! posits that the entire final episode was just a (very bad and lame) djinn’s vision.

like moses and batman and james dean - explicit/31k, post s8. explores dean’s trauma and internalized homophoba from his technically canon experience with sex work and its impact on his relationship with cas. the sex work itself isn’t really shown in any detail but it’s still a relatively heavy fic.

Crazy Diamonds - explicit/25k, s4/alternate s14. fresh-out-of-hell dean and dean from 10 years in the future are displaced from time and sent to each other’s present.

where the weeds take root - explicit/30k. au where the men of letters kick them out of the bunker and they accidentally move out into the country, get over their codependence and semi retire. featuring chicken coop building, sam volunteering at a dog shelter, gardening, and blissfully mundane domesticity.

No Resting Place - teen/6k. djinn dream fic, switches back and forth between cas’ dream of being married to dean and retired from hunting to the aftermath when he wakes up. tw for brief mention of suicide since, y’know, djinn dream.

any port in a storm - mature/52k. post s8 finale. cas and dean have to pose as a couple going through a rough patch for a case and actually deal with their emotional baggage, cas struggles with being human and metatron is up to stuff.

all this and heaven too* - explicit/7k. in the author’s own words ‘...a love letter to every trans person who ever projected onto Dean Winchester.’ absolutely unzipped me emotionally and theologically, its just. so good. tw for very brief mentions of internalized transphobia/dysphoria.

Because it is* - mature/6k, finale fix it. killing chuck does not bring back anyone back and the winchesters spend a very long time dealing with what they’ve lost, cas and dean SOMEHOW still manage to have signifigant communication issues even after the confession. tw for suicidal thoughts/brief attempt.

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit* - teen/4k, s6. when cas fell for dean it automatically soulbonded/angel married them, shenanigans ensue when dean finds out during the angel’s civil war. funny and actually written back when s6 was airing so cas is still (or at least pretending to be) kind of an OP asshole which is fun.

Rinse, Repeat - teen/3k, s8. angsty character study of cas as he’s reprogrammed and trained to kill dean. not really dean/cas since its just cas’ pov of canon events but its beautifully written and ends with him snapping out of it through the power of love (also now a canon event!).

Emergence - explicit/59k, canon divergent after s11. dean meets a hunter he only recognizes as their friend claire novak’s missing father, but soon realizes he might be the answer behind the mysterious void in his memories and feelings (aka everyone’s memories of cas are completely wiped away for three years).

Cuckoo And Nest - explicit/10k, early established relationship/character study, cas tries to figure out how he fits into dean’s life and space in the bunker.

Build a Home* - teen/20k, canon divergent s12. sam and eileen are cute and turn the bunker into men of letters/hunters hq and everyone but cas moves in, mutual miscommunication issues and pining ensues.

Down in the River - teen/5k, early s8, cas prays to dean in purgatory while sam and dean try to figure out a way to get him out.

Teaching Poetry to Fish* - mature/52k, ?? BC through the entire series/canon divergent s14 and 15. retelling of crucial scenes throughout the shows timeline from cas’ pov, feat. actual fish and poetry.

the minor fall, the major lift - gen/4k, post confession/finale fixit. dean goes into the empty to save cas and runs into several old friends (and enemies).

With the Kisses of His Mouth* - teen/3k, gen later seasons. dean and cas keep kissing by accident.

Remaining Grace - explicit/109k, alternate s6. au where cas asks dean for help with raphael and dean, of course, does. tw for temporary major character death/semi-graphic depictions of alcohol withdrawal.

The face of heaven.* - teen/10k, au, dean is a regular guy and cas is a fallen star (think ‘stardust’, kinda).

Stories Are Made of Mistakes*  - teen/5k. newly human cas has trouble getting used to a human body and humanity in general, but still figures out that he and dean are A Thing before dean does.

Hurry Up And Wait - mature/21k, canon divergent s12. a fairyland and quite possibly LOTR related case comes up and dean goes full fanboy, mary is introduced to the wonders of the peter jackson adaptions, many references and comparisons (including between cas and dean’s ‘friendship’ and arwen/aragon). also charle is still alive and has just been doing fairy stuff this whole time.

There Are Many Things - explicit/28k, s9. cas is extremely lonely/touch-starved and trying to figure out this whole human thing, as well as where he and dean stand after being kicked out of the bunker.

It's A Long Life to Always Be Longing - teen/40k, post s11 finale. amara helps dean by putting him in a magical coma so he can finally get some much needed rest and show him possible futures for him, sam and cas. meanwhile sam and cas go on a roadtrip (or several) to find componets for a spell to wake dean up. really good sam and cas friendship, they actually talk about their shared lucifer trauma and stuff.

Non-Photo Blue - gen/2k, s4/5/alternate s5. fifty moments from cas’ memories of dean.

Tall Grass - explicit/57k, canon divergent post series. cas becomes the ultimate plant dad. feat the wayward sisters gang, cathartic character growth, fun oc’s, domesticity, and lots of actual botanical info-dumping.

on vessels - no rating/gen/2k. established dean/cas, cas tells dean about how he used to imagine what it would be like to have him as his vessel.

search for tomorrow on every shore* - teen/11k, post-finale (extremely derogatory). some angels in jack’s new heaven act out and dean gets temporarily resurrected in 2003 and runs into his younger self.

Architecture of the Minotaur’s Heart - explicit/45k, very canon divergent post s1. dean’s new house seems to have a life and mind of its own, while in his dreams he sees glimpses of a world and apocalypse that never came to be and an angel that looks strangely like his mysterious neighbor, cas. loosely inspired by the book house of leaves (which i highly recommend for fans of weird horror).

The Distance Of The Setting Sun - explicit/17k, post s5. established dean/cas relationship, team free will finally takes advantage of cas’ abilities to go on vacation around the world.

diamond star halo - teen/5k, s11. dean lets cas use him as a temporary vessel while he recovers from rowena’s spell, sam is a long-suffering third-wheel.

Make Known** - teen/16k, s6/7. dean struggles to understand how cas could have become his enemy and whether he ever truly knew him in the first place.

blunt little instrument* - mature/1.4k, post finale. dean finally confronts his father in heaven, very cathartic.

my heart a compass*** - teen/10k, post confession. the empty forces cas to re-experience his most regretted moments while dean tries to snap him out of it and bring him home.

A Crash Course in Someone Else's History - teen/11k, s6. cas from the very start of s4 is brought forward in time by s6!cas to distract the brothers from his and crowley’s plans.

The Cuckoo Father - mature/8k, s7 au. the woman who found cas in the river post-leviathans does not marry him bc he was sent to her by god or whatever, but actually identifies him as jimmy novak and sends him back to claire and amelia.

The Dead Dean Clause* - teen/5k, post alt s5 ending. team free will celebrates surviving taking down lucifer by getting blitzed, cas lies to a cop and gets an impromptu driving lesson. title/description sound dark i know but it’s actually very funny and light.

Suck It, Judy Garland - mature/20k, s12 (after the ‘i love you...i love all of you’ episode). cas and sam have to pretend to be a couple for a case and dean is NOT happy about it.

By Daylight and In Dream - teen/16k, s5. pre-dean/cas, dean invites cas to use his dreams to hide from the other angels. tw for very brief mention of a memory/dream of alastair sexually assaulting dean.

The Five People You Meet in Heaven - mature/22k, post-canon. an actually happy (if sometimes bittersweet) heaven endgame written several years ago, though some details are rather eerily similar to the show’s ending.

heaven is a place on earth* - teen/2k. dean’s pov of some of the times cas left him behind throughout the show, and one alternate ending where he finally gets to stay.

I Cleanse The Mirror - teen/20k, alternate s6. dean’s body is stolen by an ancient elemental and his soul has to hitch a ride in cas’ vessel.

an exploration of gender; angelic*** - mature/4k. *oscar isaac voice* lets get into angel gender politics!! aka cas is trans.

Zenith - explicit/33k, s9. after 9x06 an angry witch curses cas with the ability to see supernatural beings and human souls.

La cucina. - gen/3k, alt s9. dean goes wild helping a newly-human cas find out what kinds of food he likes, or the early s9 domesticity we deserved!

Dean Winchester, Cocksucker at Rest***** - teen/7k, post-finale. john and mary finally come over for dinner and john reacts to dean/cas in a rather predictable fashion. SOOOOOOOOO good omg, its so funny and a little sad and very very cathartic. part of a series that has a few other really good short fics.

The Way You Didn't Go - teen/5k, s15. coda to 15.09, dean has nightmares about the moc!cas timeline.

On Drowning - teen/28k. dean saves cas after he nearly drowns, they both try and deal with the physical/mental fallout (aka the fic where thee iconic “you only touch me when you think I’m dead or dying” originates). tw for realistic depictions of drowning/triage/misc medical information.

The Thirty-Six Questions That Lead to Love* - mature/13k. claire has dean and cas pretend to be her gay dads for a case and they play the titular 36 question game, get mistaken for swingers, and birdwatch, among other things.

Assorted F/F stuff:

Deep Breaths* - mary/ellen, au where mary said no to azazel’s deal and let john stay dead, still becomes a milf.

Like Rebel Diamonds - krissy/claire, they become hunter gf’s on the hunt for cas to kick his ass for taking jimmy. not-so-stealth dean/cas as well.

To Ash and Bone - anna/ruby, same author as the previous fic (p much all of her stuff is good from what i recall). au where ruby is a witch and helps anna when she’s cursed.

Holy Clockwork Angels - jo/ruby, STEAMPUNK au with very cool worldbuiilding.

At Day's End - jo/anna (my fucking KINGDOM for more jo/anna content, the dean/cas parallels are allllll there), au where they are both at the camp in the endverse and gfs.

these posts - ok so not actually a fic but i’m now obsessed with this hannah/meg dynamic.

Tagelied - mary/ellen, the true story of how ellen got into hunting before angels interfered.

Hell's Bells** - meg/abaddon, alternate s8/9 where meg survives crowley’s attack with sam’s help and teams up with abaddon (who she has a sk year old crush on) to take back hell.

The Ecstasy of the Rose - anna/ruby, anna travels back in time to escape heaven and becomes a signifigant part of ruby’s old human life.

Angel Underground - anna/jo, kind of an urban fantasy au with a very intriguing premise (sadly its very short, i’d love to see more if this ‘verse).

Clover, Flame - billie/mary, billie was always the reaper that showed up to take mary after her death(s) over the years.

Drag Me To Heaven - anna/ruby, a variant on the ‘last night on earth’ thing with dean.

Come Home* - jo/anna, canon-divergent au where anna is the new waitress at the roadhouse and helps jo set up a (probably not really) haunted house for halloween.

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

Already dating

Word count: 1618

Genre: Probably fluff, idk really

Pairing: Natasha x gn!reader

Warnings: None (let me know if I need to add any)

Request: could you maybe write something with Natasha x male reader (if your comfortable, otherwise you can write it with female or gender neutral) where Natasha blushes when the reader compliments her in front of the team and the team immediately goes crazy and does everything in their power to get them together, only to find out they've been dating all along?

Summary: Steve and Tony (mostly Tony) lock you in an elevator to admit your feelings, not knowing you’re already together.

A/n: Thanks @mochamoff for the request, sorry it took so long to do it! I’m writing this authors note over a week before I’m posting the fic which is unusual because usually I post within twenty four hours of finishing. Anyways it feels nice to be on a break and this fic being posted means I’m officially back which I’m excited for. To be honest this fic isn’t the whole team, just Tony and Steve, but I’m pretty happy with the way it turned out so I hope you all enjoy reading!

“Next time you have to listen to me in the field Stark.” Steve says as soon as everyone is settled into their place on the jet.

“Actually I don’t, you have absolutely no power over me and as much as you want to be the leader of this team you are not so stop acting like it.” Tony snaps back.

“Someone has to step up and lead.” Steve tells him. “It’s not like you could do any better, you would probably mess things up.”

“Maybe I would, but I would do a hell of a lot better than you are doing.” Tony says. “You like to pretend you’re all high and good and above us but who made you leader? Nobody. You crave control so you took it.”

“I did what needed to be done.”

You watch them snap back and forth at one another a few more times, rolling your eyes at Natasha. She gives you a small smile to show that she’s amused and turns her attention back to your two teammates whose argument has only gotten more and more heated.

“Y/n what do you think?” Tony asks, catching you off guard.

“About what?”

“About who would be a better leader for the team.” he explains. You think for a moment and they both stand as tall as possible (in Tony’s case it isn’t tall at all) and puff out their chests. You scoff, the male ego is so big, even in men who are good and try to do the right thing.

“Neither.” you decide.

“Neither- but the team needs a leader, you have to pick someone.” Tony splutters.

“Just because I don’t think the best leader is either of you doesn’t mean I don’t think the team needs a leader.” you tell him. How one of the smartest people in the world can’t figure that out for himself is beyond you.

“So who would you choose then?” Steve asks, confused.

“Natasha obviously.” you say, smiling at her. The corners of her mouth tug up slightly and even that small movement makes you feel proud.

“No offense, but Natasha???” Tony asks, seemingly outraged. “Why?”

“Well first of all she doesn’t have a fragile male ego like you dumbasses.” you tell them. “But it’s more than just that. She’s smart, both book smart and street smart. She can hack into computers and memorize information easily and knows how to blend in, or to get people to like her. She is more rational than the both of you combined but is also good at making decisions on the fly. She is an excellent fighter and can keep track of strategies and she has connections in and out of the government, with backup plans for almost every situation. Not to mention she has an amazing heart and don’t argue like some other people on our team tend to do. And of course she’s absolutely gorgeous but that doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

You wink at her at the end of your mini speech and are surprised to find her cheeks noticeably pink. She can’t help the smile that creeps onto her face when she thinks over your words.

“Abort mission, Romanoff is blushing and smiling, I think I might be about to die.” Tony states obnoxiously.

“Shut up, you’re just annoyed that she likes me better than you.” Natasha tells him, taking a breath to (mostly) collect herself.

“You’re scary when you’re happy. I haven’t seen you like that before.” he says. “Are you in love with Y/n or something?”

“Shut up.”

Tony smirks. “Make me.”

Natasha takes one threatening step towards him and that’s all it takes for him to back away, stuttering out apologies and mumbling under his breath about how Natasha is too scary to be a team leader. Natasha’s scare tactics do seem to work though because he doesn’t speak to anybody but himself for the rest of the ride home.

As soon as the jet touches down you and Natasha exit, heading straight to the room where you are supposed to be debriefed. Steve tries to follow but Tony grabs his arm to let him know to hold back a second.

“I know I joke but I honestly think they’re in love with each other.” Tony tells him. “I didn’t see it before today but there’s no way Y/n’s speech was platonic, who memorizes lists of reasons why they like their friends, not to mention their flirty wink at the end. And then Natasha, she’s scary but she was acting weird and happy around Y/n.”

“I hate to say this but I agree with you and they would make a cute couple.” Steve says. “But we should probably catch up now.”

Tony takes Steve’s words as an opportunity to stop being serious and become obnoxious again. “Onward dear captain, lead the way fearsome leader, how ever could I-”

“Tony I’m trying to be polite but you are making it very hard.”

---

“Tony no.”

“Tony yes.”

“That is a horrible idea.”

Tony opens his mouth in outrage. “I think it’s a pretty good idea actually.”

“I won’t work.” Steve counters.

“Well I think it well and need I’m the only genius here.” he says smugly.

“You can’t force love!” Steve tells Tony, running his hand through his hair in frustration.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Tony says, “I’m not forcing love, they are already in love. All I’m doing is giving them a little push.”

“By locking them in an elevator?” Steve asks in a deadpan voice.

“Exactly.”

“You can’t just go around locking people-” Steve starts to say but he gets cut off by Tony.

“Shhhhhhh, hi Y/n, hi Natasha.”

“Hi guys, what are you up to?” you ask, obvious to what was going on seconds before you entered the room. Natasha eyes them suspiciously because they are acting weird, holding their bodies stiffly, which means they are hiding something.

“We were just about to head down to the training room, want to come?” Tony lies smoothly while Steve shakes his head in the background.

“That sounds good,” you reply, “you want Tasha?”

“Okay.” she agrees, still eyeing both of them, Tony in particular suspiciously.

“Great!” Tony says and starts to walk towards the elevator and the rest of you follow him, Steve trying to convince himself that going along with Tony’s plan is doing no harm.

“Ladies first.” he says, stepping off to the side and giving a big flourish with his arm. It’s weird but then again Tony is always weird so you don’t think too much of it, stepping into the elevator. As soon as Natasha follows you in he orders Jarvis to close and lock the doors and to prevent the elevator from moving and then pulling up a screen so he can watch you.

“You better run when I get out of here!” Natasha yells. “You too Steve!”

“You’re going to thank me later.” Tony says. “Steve, why don’t you explain why we locked them in.”

“Um,” Steve hesitates, not knowing where to start, “well we think that you two need to talk about, um, feelings.”

“Feelings?” you ask, confused, while realization dawns over Natasha’s face.

“Um, yeah feelings.” Steve responds, feeling very awkward and hoping this works so he didn’t do all that for nothing.

“They don’t know we’re dating and they’re trying to get us together.” Natasha leans over and whispers in your ear before straightening back up and talking to Tony again. “I didn’t take you for such a romantic Stark.”

“What? I’m not- romantic me? Pepper says I’m the least romantic guy she’s ever been with.” he splutters, trying to regain his masculinity.

“And that is not a compliment.” you tell him. “But for some reason even though ‘you aren’t romantic’ you wanted to get us together.”

“Maybe I did,” he says. “but you have to admit that my plan is amazing and it's totally working.”

Natasha snorts “What part of this conversation screams working to you?”

“Well you haven’t killed Y/n yet and neither of you have denied your feelings so it’s obviously working. I expect a thank you speech dedicated to me at your wedding.” He says arrogantly.

“There will be no speech.” Natasha tells him.

“But there will be a wedding?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and Steve has to look away because it looks ridiculous.

“Hopefully.” you say, teasing Tony with your vagueness but also making Natasha smile as she thinks about what that might be like.

“Told you my plan would work.” Tony brags to Steve before telling Jarvis to release you from the elevator.

“Your plan sucked.” Natasha tells him. “We were already dating dumbasses.”

She grabs your hand and pulls you out of the room as Steve and Tony stare after you, shocked.

“Did you know about this?” Tony asks, looking at Steve with suspicion.

“Not at all.” Steve answers, his mouth still half open. In hindsight it should have been obvious. Of course Natasha wouldn’t want to be open about her dating life right away, she likes her secrets way too much.

---

“You owe me fifty bucks Y/n.” Natasha tells you once you’re out of earshot.

“Seriously?” you whine.

“You said they already knew but they didn't, so pay up.” She holds her hand outwards expectantly and you both laugh.

“Later.” you tell her. “There are more important things to do now.”

“Hmm, like what?” she teases gently, taking a step closer to you. Your breath catches because you still can’t believe you are dating someone this beautiful. You match her halfway and pull her into a deep kiss, only pulling back when you need to breath.

“This.”

---

Taglist:@fayhar@xxxtwilightaxelxxx@acertainredhead@madamevirgo@megaqueenmaeve@cherryblossomskye@aaron-despair@chickenhavewisdom@emril-osvigne@nyankitty987@agathaharkness-simp@midnight-lestrange@thewidowsghost@nyx-aira@stephanieromanoff@satxnsupreme@likefirenrain@wlwlovesreading@stop-drop-and-drumroll@peggycarter-steverogers@casperlikej@redswing@mochamoff@king-star@blackbat2020

[reputationmunson]

Right Where You Left Me

Summary: During a rough patch in their relationship, reader gives Spencer one last chance to make things right

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Angst w/ a (somewhat) hopeful ending

Content Warning(s): Breakup, swearing, mention of food, mention of alcohol, allusion to depression (Please let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Hi, everyone! This is my first fic and I hope you enjoy it! I wrote this in about an hour after listening to “Right Where You Left Me” by Taylor Swift, so it’s not the best and a bit rushed but I’m excited about it! 

I sit in the dimly lit restaurant, patiently waiting for him to show up and prove me wrong. Prove to me he still wanted me as much as he did when we first met. Ten minutes turned into twenty minutes and before I knew it, an hour had passed. I was still alone looking at the empty seat across from me, imagining he was sitting there looking at me with that doe-eyed look and a smile upon his face. I found myself slightly smiling at the fantasy before I was interrupted by the waitress.

 “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but if you don’t order something we’re going to have to ask you to leave. Are you still waiting on someone?” I gave a small chuckle before replying “Uh- no, I’m sorry. I’ll take the check to pay for the wine.” “Don’t worry, it’s taken care of.” She gives me a pity smile. 

He left me. He actually left me. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, though, things had been different for almost a year. We were less intimate, he was sleeping on the couch or at the office, and whenever he looked at me he no longer had that sparkle in his eye that always reassured that he would love me forever.I never would have guessed our forever would be this short lived. I shamefully walk out of the restaurant and I’m so embarrassed that all these people witnessed me getting stood up by a man I never thought could make me feel this way. 

How am I supposed to go back to our shared home? Would he be there? Maybe he got off work too late and is waiting to surprise me with flowers? My anticipation was too much to handle and I press the gas pedal with a bit more pressure, hanging on to the last string of hope I had. Unfortunately, my instincts were a bit off as I walk into what was once our happy home that was always filled with love and laughter that I never thought would end and now there was just an empty feeling. 

It’s colder than usual and without him, it already no longer felt like home. Spencer is, was, my home. I need to be in his arms. He was the only one that could put me together and he’s the one that is fucking breaking me. I don’t remember who I was before him besides a girl who had never been loved the way he loved me. The love you read about wasn’t something I believed in until I met him and now I’m right back to square one. 

I walk back to our bedroom to change into something more comfortable, but I stop when I see a piece of paper folded on the bed. I feel the tears forming before I even open it up. This was the last thing he touched and the last piece I have of him. It feels so delicate in my hand like it’s made of glass. I dread reading this. Our story is ending with a single piece of paper that lies in my hand. I take a deep breath and work up the courage to read the inevitable. 

Y/N, I’m a coward. I couldn’t even face you tonight to give you the proper closure you deserve. You deserve someone who is able to give you that, and so much more. While I was packing, I noticed your red dress was off the hanger and I’m assuming that’s what you wore tonight. That was always my favorite dress on you. I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry. I need you to know that I never have stopped, and probably never will stop, loving you. Sadly, love isn’t enough sometimes and I wish it really fucking was. Don’t think for a single second any of this is your fault. I could go on and on about how you deserve more than me, but I know you and you would fight me on that statement until you were blue in the face. I could write forever, but I should get going. I left you that cardigan of mine you like so much, the one I wrapped around you our first date. I don’t expect your forgiveness, but please never forget me. -Yours, Spencer. 

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I still think about it everyday. I think about him everyday. Five years later it still hasn’t escaped my mind. But, on the bright side, I only think about it for about half of the day instead of letting it consume my entirety. I felt pathetic. Everyone in my life was married, having kids, or getting promoted and here I was still holding onto this false dream that he would come back to me. I pretended that I moved on. I even lied about going on dates. What was the point? I already had the greatest love I could ask for. I would rather be alone right now than try to recreate what I had with Spencer with some stranger. 

I distract myself with the music on the radio, considering thinking of Spencer while driving was about as dangerous as driving while intoxicated. Moments later, I’m pulling into the grocery store. Maybe I’ll meet someone new here. The love of my life could be right under my nose, but I wouldn’t even know because I’m stuck in a delusion. 

I stroll the the cereal isle and laugh quietly at myself, realizing that the most exciting thing this week was trying a new flavor of cheerios. “This works” I whisper to myself as I throw the box in my cart and make my way down the isle. 

“Y/N?” I stop in my tracks. I know that voice. It’s the voice that never leaves my thoughts. I can’t turn around. Is he actually here? He can’t be. What are the odds of this happening? I bet he would actually know the statistics on that. I put on a fake smile and turn around. “Spencer! It’s been what? Five years? How are you?” I think I might be overdoing the friendliness. “Yeah five years, two months, and eight days.” He nervously laughs. “Still have that big brain, I see. And who’s this?” I was so distracted by his presence I didn’t even notice the literal child sitting in the shopping cart. 

“This is my son, Oliver, like the Charlemagne Knight from the twelfth century poem, Chanson de Roland. He’s turning two next month.” He smiles at his son in awe. “It’s my weekend with him. My ex and I are trying the whole shared parenting thing. It’s hard to be away from him” He continues. “I’m sorry to hear about your separation. I hope the note you left her was different from mine” I cringe as the words leave my mouth. “Sorry. Bad joke.” I add, causing us to laugh through the tension. “Ouch. I -uh- guess I deserve that” He looks down and shakes his head. “I should get going. It was nice to see you, Spence. I’m glad you’ve found happiness.” 

“Maybe we could grab coffee and truly catch up.I still have your number, unless you’ve changed it.” I shake my head in response to his last statement. “Um, yeah, that would be nice. Just don’t ask for your cardigan back” I joke and immediately regret letting him know I’ve held onto it all these years. “Of course not. You always looked better in my clothes than I did.” “Goodbye, Spencer.” It’s the last thing I say. I turn around and try my hardest to keep my composure. 

“Y/N, wait.” I turn back and meet his eyes once again. I can’t tell if I’m imagining it or if the sparkle in his eyes is back. “What about you? Are you happy?” There is a sincerity in his voice. “Yeah. I am.” I lie, hoping it was convincing enough for him to not question it and we went our separate ways after sharing a final smile.

My mind is having a thousand thoughts a minute. Spencer had a baby. Not only did Spencer have baby, he had another relationship. I didn’t expect him to wait around like I was, but I really didn’t expect to get hit with all this at once. All the things I wanted, needed, with him had already happened with someone else. He had moved on with his life and I was still right where he left me.