#even people i haven’t talked to since high school or have never even met are now reading it because of someone i know starting

[starryemeralds]

there’s been so many people i snowballed into reading gideon the ninth,,, at this point i just spreading the gay plague

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

i'm soooo glad you're back!!! love your writting so much, was thinking about some ghostface¡ tate or shit yk...like everyone who flirts with reader end murdered

i’m sorry this took me so long to do 😔 but i sorta did my own twist on this request, hope you don’t mind… i love it… anyway… :)

~~~

Lovefool

Tate Langdon x f!reader

warnings: murder, smut, stalking, obsession, very toxic, manipulation, very minor talk of drug use… virgins, yeah idk what else it’s just stalker tate being crazy for you

summary: tate’s loved you since the first moment you met, and he would do anything to be with you… anything…

word count: 4.4

~~~

2011

You stare at the boy in front of you, a mix of emotions stirring inside you. He’s your age still, you aren’t too surprised at that. You’re more surprised at the fact that he’s in front of you. It’s been so long since the last time you saw him. You remember the pain, the pure fear that paralyzed your body the last time the two of you had an encounter. It still makes you uneasy.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice weak.

He shrugs. “It’s Halloween.”

“There’s been plenty of Halloweens Tate and this is the first time I’ve seen you here. What do you want?” You reply in a harsher tone than.

Tate shrugs again and starts to play with the sleeves of his sweater. You can’t believe this is real. You want to close your eyes and pretend this is all a sick dream, though you haven’t slept in years. After a few seconds, you cross your arms over your chest and take a deep breath. This isn’t going to be easy.

“Tate the fact you even have the balls to try to find me is crazy, what happened? Did you suddenly feel some sense of guilt? Are you finally sorry for what you did to me? I don’t even care if you are sorry, I don’t care about anything except the one question I’ve wondered since the night it happened,” you say.

“What question?” He responds.

“Why?” Your eyes start to burn. “Why did you kill me?”

~~~

1993

Tate had never seen any girl as beautiful as you. Never. Not in a movie, not in a magazine, nothing. From the first time he saw you in kindergarten, he knew there was something special about you. Of course, he didn’t know it would grow into what it did until middle school when his hormones took over. His feelings for you quickly transitioned from a pure crush to a sick obsession. And the best and worst part of it all was that you had no idea.

You never really spoke to him. He was out of your league. You were popular, but not braindead popular like the people you surrounded yourself with. Tate had seen you in some of your classes. You were smart, you got the best grades in those classes. You had plans for yourself after high school, unlike your friends. That knowledge only made him admire you more.

The problems began when you started going out with one of the popular boys in your group, David. He was awful for you; Tate didn’t understand why you chose to have such a relationship with someone like that. He’d watch how David would wrap his arms around you in the hallways, leave small kisses on your cheeks, and whisper words in your ears that made your face turn bright red. It made him furious.

What did David have that he didn’t? Why was he so special? Tate knew he could give you more than David ever could. So, why were you with him?

Tate quickly became blinded by rage and jealousy.

At night he’d lie awake, the knowledge that you might’ve been out there opening your legs for another boy making him sick. That’s when the fantasies began. He imagined killing David. How would he do it? Where? In what way would leave the least amount of blood on his clothes? The image of his mutilated body consumed Tate’s thoughts. He liked it.

It was around that time that he had found the mask.

It was a strange mask he found in the basement. It had a long white face with black holes for the eyes and a long mouth. He wondered which resident of his house had left it there for him. He didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care. All he knew from the second his eyes fell upon that mask was that bad things were going to happen.

He started going out at night and driving by David’s house. The mask he wore gave him a sense of power he never knew he could feel. At first, it was innocent. He’d simply drive down the other boy's road and look through his window for a few minutes before leaving. But all it took was one second of seeing you inside to blow the whole thing up. He was livid, seeing red. He decided he needed to bring his fantasies to life and get rid of David for good.

Halloween was when the opportunity to kill David became undeniable. By that point, Tate had been stalking the two of you for a month so he knew the basics. Which room was Davids, how to get into his house, and where his parents were most likely going to be. He had it all planned out. So, on Halloween night he put on the mask along with black robes that covered his entire body and ventured to the other boy's house, ready to kill.

He brought a knife, and when the time was just right, he snuck in through one of David’s open windows and started his game. He crept through the empty house, not making a sound. Getting to David’s room only took him a few minutes and what he heard from outside the door made him not regret his choice at all.

“Yeah, I know, listen she’s so close to finally giving it up to me and that’s what I’ve been working for this whole time. Once it happens, I’ll dump her, easy,” David spoke into his phone. His voice was cocky. It made Tate clench his jaw in frustration.

“Because dude, do you know how many girls from school I’ve already got under my belt? Y/N is just gonna be a name on my list. Yeah, whatever, I gotta go anyway I need to shower for the party, maybe I’ll get lucky, and she’ll drink too much. Okay bye.”

Before David could even get up from his chair, Tate kicked the door down and stormed in, too overpowered by his rage to think about anything but slitting the other boy's throat. He pounced on him, stabbing the knife into any part of his body he could reach. David screamed, but Tate quickly silenced him by shoving the knife down his throat. He felt empowered, he felt thrilled at the sight of his dead peer. It was amazing.

Tate didn’t waste much time gawking over his achievement, however. Once he was sure David was dead, he quickly pulled the knife out of the boy and fled out the window and back to his car. As he drove through the small neighborhoods of your guys' town, he wondered how big the news would be. Would you cry? He hoped you wouldn’t. Not over that asshole. You would move on, and Tate would wait however long it took.

~~~

The news of David’s death spread faster than wildfire and consumed Westfield High’s drama for weeks. Out of all the kids in the school, you took his death hardest. Seeing you so depressed almost made Tate regret his actions. He couldn’t bear seeing you tear up in class or show up to school two periods late. You weren’t like that.

However, as the days turned into weeks, you started to appear healthier and happier, and soon enough you were back to your normal self. Tate was glad, you were always so much prettier when you paid attention in class. He decided it was time for the second part of his plan to finally act. Though he was incredibly nervous, he knew it was then or never. He couldn’t risk you getting a new boyfriend that he’d have to kill again.

So, one day, he followed you into the library when the two of you coincidently had a study hall during the same period. His heart was beating so loud he could hear it in his ears. There you were. sitting at one of the tables alone studying, and he was going to speak to you. He’d thought up conversation starters all morning along with taking a few extra hits off his bong to help with the anxiety.

He shook the nervous thoughts from his head and grabbed his notebook from his backpack before walking in your direction. Your head was down, your hand moved aggressively across the paper as you wrote your notes. Tate stood at the other side of the table for a few seconds simply admiring you. His hands were shaky, his breathing uneasy. God, you made him lose his composure by existing. It was excruciating.

After he was done staring, he spoke, his voice quiet. “Hey y/n, do you mind maybe helping me with some of that psych homework?”

Your head shot up, your eyes instantly meeting his. He swore he couldn’t breathe. You, y/n, were looking at him on purpose. At that moment he didn’t care about what you were going to say, he didn’t care if you completely rejected him. All he cared about was how good it felt to have your eyes on him. Such innocent, loving eyes.

“Oh, yeah of course Tate that’s actually what I’m working on right now. Just sit, we can do it together. Unless you’re like super behind,” you answered.

“Are- Are you sure?” He couldn’t help the uncertainty. Did you really say yes to him?

“Yeah... should I not be?” You replied with a smile.

“No- sorry.” He sat down across from you. He could smell your perfume; he’d never been this close to you. “I just wasn’t sure if you even knew who I was.”

You chuckled. “How could I not know who you are? We’ve literally been in the same school system together since kindergarten.”

“I don’t know. You’re you know popular and stuff,” he said as he opened his notebook.

“Not really, besides even if I was that wouldn’t automatically make me forget anyone. But anyway, you can use my notes in a second, I’m almost done with the page,” you responded. You looked back down at your work and started writing again.

Tate nodded despite you not paying attention and watched as you wrote. He felt like that whole conversation was another one of his daydreams about you. Was he really sitting across from you? Or was it another mid-class nap? He cracked his knuckles to make sure he wasn’t dreaming and thankfully, he wasn’t. It was all real life.

“Sorry if this comes out as creepy, but I feel like I haven’t seen you around in a while. I mean, when was the last time we even spoke?” You suddenly spoke, your eyes back on his.

“I guess you weren’t looking hard enough to see me,” he said with a shrug. All his confidence was a facade because on the inside he was losing his mind.

He noticed the way your cheeks slightly turned pink before you replied. “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t. But I should have been.”

He knew deep down you were going to be his for so long, but at that point, he knew he had already achieved his goal. You were his.

~~~

“What is this place?” You asked as you clutched your cardigan around your body.

Tate smiled and grabbed both of your hands in his. “I told you it’s a surprise. Patience is a virtue.”

“I have patience, but I also have a lower body temperature than usual and it’s bothering me so I would really appreciate it if you’d just take me to the surprise already,” you said, a small smile forming on your lips.

“It’s seventy degrees.”

“Yeah, but it’s also windy at the beach and it’s probably colder than seventy because of the ocean’s temperature.”

Tate sighed and leaned his head down to press a small kiss on your lips, a feeling he still hadn’t gotten over. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Terrible, naughty things I hope,” you replied, kissing him again. “But please lead me to your special surprise beach spot.”

Though he wanted to stand there and kiss you all night, Tate obeyed your request and began to lead you further down the beach. It had been a few months since the two of you started talking, and to say it progressed would be an understatement. Tate had truly underestimated how easy it would be to capture your attention. All you wanted was a sweet, caring, genuine boy and he could be all those things easily.

So, after a month of being friends, he asked you out and you said yes. The relationship grew deeper with each day, and it didn’t disappoint him one bit. He loved everything about you. The way you’d lie on your bed with him and talk for hours, the way you’d make your relationship with him public by holding his hand in the halls, and most importantly the way you never expected or wanted him to change to fit in with your friends. You liked him for who he was, and it melted his heart.

It was your three-month anniversary, and Tate wanted to make it special. Even though he knew before the two of you got together that you were a virgin, he didn’t know to what extent you were. He quickly became aware you had done most things already, just not full sex. At first, he was annoyed at the fact that you weren’t completely his because he had never done anything with a girl before you. But after the first night, you went down on him, he wasn’t that upset anymore.

On this night he planned to take the next step with you. He had it all set up. The blankets, the lights, all of it. As the sight of his setup came into view, he watched your face light up. You squeezed his hand and grinned up at him.

“Is this really for me?” You asked.

“Yeah, do you like it?” He replied.

You nodded and sped up to reach it, dragging him with you. Once you made it you dropped down to sit on the blanket, urging Tate to do the same. “This is so cool. You’re the first boy to ever do something like this for me. I love it.”

“I’m glad, I know how you like sentimental things,” he said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “And I’ve been wanting to show you this spot for a while. I used to come here a lot as a kid and watch the waves with my dad... before he left. I wanted to make it special with you because you’re not like my dad. Right?”

“No, I’m not. I won’t ever do anything to hurt you like that. I lo- I like you Tate, a lot.”

Tate only stared into your eyes, his heart beating faster than it ever had in his life. You almost said you loved him. He knew then that night was going to be the night you finally gave yourself to him. Something in your eyes made him certain. Your eyes were dark. You stared up at him as if he were the only boy in the world. There was a feeling in the air, one of lust and fear.

“I’ll never want to hurt you either,” he mumbled after a few seconds. “I doubt I ever could.”

You gave him a small smile and placed one of your hands on his cheek. You caressed the skin with your thumb as you slowly started to lean your face toward his. He accepted your lips on him, kissing back instantly. It was the moment he’d been working up to for years. He was finally going to lose his virginity to you, and you to him. Nothing would ever compare.

~~~

The sound of Nirvana mixed with skin slapping filled Tate’s room. He couldn’t help the moan that left his lips when he looked down at you. Your back was arched so perfectly, your waist looked impossibly small, and your ass looked incredibly big. The side of your face was smushed against one of Tate’s pillows. You were so red, so loud you had to bite your hand to spare the whole house from hearing. Tate took in a deep breath and slapped your ass, his thrusts not faltering for even a second.

“Fuck baby, you look so pretty right now. You take me so well,” he whispered. He wrapped some of your hair around his hand and yanked you up, making you practically scream. “Yeah, you like that. You like being manhandled y/n?”

You let out another moan but didn’t reply. Tate slapped your ass again and threw you back down to the mattress. He leaned over you, your sweaty body feeling perfect against his. He was close to finishing. He’d already made you cum a few times that day, so he wasn’t too concerned about where you were. All he was concerned about was getting closer to you before he came.

“I love controlling you, you’re so helpless. Fuck I’m so close,” he mumbled in your ear. “You’re mine, all fucking mine forever. I’ll kill anyone who even tries to take you away from me.”

You made a noise and Tate couldn’t hold back any longer. He came inside you, his cock pulsing heavily. You groaned; his cock was hitting your cervix too hard it hurt. He waited a minute or so before finally pulling out and moving to the spot next to you on the bed. He’d never felt anything as amazing as having sex with you. He was breathless.

He was so caught up in his thoughts about what just happened that he didn’t notice your sad expression. When he eventually looked at you, he saw your frown. Immediately he turned to his side and faced you, reaching out one of his hands to brush a few of your hairs behind your ear.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you replied.

“It doesn’t look like nothing you look sad; you can tell me whatever it is.”

You sighed and turned your head to meet his gaze. “Why do you like hurting me? Like during sex and stuff. You’re always so rough and I don’t know you’re really mean and sometimes the stuff you say is… scary.”

“How is it scary?” He laughed.

“You said you’d kill anyone who would try to take me away from you,” you said.

“Yeah, I would. I swear I’ve said this shit to you before. I would do anything for you, or to keep you,” he responded.

“Don’t joke about that Tate, you know I’m scared of killers because of what happened.”

“Oh, so this is about David? Why are you even thinking about him y/n he’s been dead for months. Do you miss him, or something is that it?” He questioned; his tone harsher than before.

You scoffed and sat up. “You’re seriously making this about me missing David?”

“Well, is that what this is about?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered before you stood up and started to get dressed.

“Oh, my fucking God y/n I’m sorry for whatever I said wrong while we were fucking. Can we just move on already? I don’t see what the big deal is,” he snapped.

“No, we can’t just move on. You scare me sometimes Tate like genuinely. I know you mean it all in a sweet way but it’s weird. I love you but you don’t hear me saying I’d kill people if they talked to you or looked at you a certain way. That’s not normal.”

Tate sat up. “I wish you would say those things. I wish you loved me as much as I love you. I’d do anything you ask; I would shoot up the fucking school if you wanted me to.”

You looked at him, he could see the terror and fear in your eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Of course, I am. I don’t get why you’re acting so scared. I’d never hurt you I don’t even think I could if I wanted to, you mean more to me than any person alive or dead,” he answered.

“You’re sick,” you mumbled. You grabbed your bag and walked to the door. “I think we need some time apart; you aren’t sane.”

His heart practically stopped. “What?”

“We need to stop seeing each other for a little while, I can’t take this insane shit Tate. I’m sorry. You know I love you, but I need you to get some help before I can be with you.”

Before Tate could reply, you left. All he could do was stare at the door, a million thoughts roaming his head. Did you really just break up with him? Was that it? Did you just throw away everything the two of you had because you felt his love was too strong? It didn’t feel real.

As the night progressed, he tried to call you, dozens of times. But each call was either declined or rang out. His anxiety grew with each ring of the phone. Why weren’t you replying? Who were you seeing? Did he really mean so little to you that you could leave so easily? His mind spun with scenarios, each one worse than the last. By the end of the night, he had convinced himself you were cheating on him, and the following days only worsened his state of madness.

You ignored him completely in school. Every time he tried to talk to you, you either turned away or walked away completely. It hurt him terribly. He couldn’t understand what had changed so fast. He chased you around the halls for days, trying his hardest to get your attention. But it never worked. And so, his love for you began to fade into an awful rage.

He couldn’t let you just walk away from everything the two of you shared. You were his. Only his. He couldn’t let you leave him, not like his dad. He hadn’t spent his entire life chasing you just to end up losing you. No. So, he began to formulate a plan. He’d leave you alone for a few days then calmly ask you to meet him at the beach, in the special spot he once made for you.

He wasn’t surprised that his plan worked. You were predictable.

When the night came, he made sure he was prepared. He snorted a line, packed his bag full of your favorite things, and set off. As he walked down the beach, he made sure the knife he hid was secure in his pocket. It was smaller than the one he’d used on David, but it would do the job just as efficiently.

You arrived a few minutes after him, a sad expression on your pretty face. He fought the urge to run to you with open arms.

“Thank you for coming,” he said. Only a few feet separated your bodies, he wished he could close it. But he needed to be patient.

You took a deep breath, you looked nervous. “Yeah, look Tate I... I’ve thought about it and I... I really think we should stop seeing each other for some time.”

“Why Y/N? I love you, so fucking much. I’m sorry for what I said, I can change, I won’t say shit like that ever again. I’ll be gentle, I swear. Just give me the chance I can be whatever you need me to be,” he replied desperately. He opened his bag and pulled out your favorite candy. “I love you; I really do. Please give me another chance.”

He watched your eyes fill with tears. You wanted to give in, he could see it in your eyes. But you only shook your head and wiped a fallen tear from your cheek.

“No. I’m sorry. Tate, you aren’t gentle, that’s not who you are. And I don’t want you to pretend to be someone you aren’t.”

Tate swallowed hard. “You promised me you’d never leave me; you said you were nothing like my dad. Was it all a lie?”

“Of course not!” You exclaimed and took a step closer to him. “I love you; I really do. That’s why this is so hard.”

“If you love me, why can’t we work this out? Don’t lie to me Y/N.”

He couldn’t stop his eyes from watering, nor could he stop his lips from quivering. He dug the bouquet of your favorite flowers out from his bag and held them out to you.

“Please,” he mumbled. “I need you.”

You caved. You wrapped your arms around his waist and held him tight. He could feel your muffled cries on his chest, it pained him. You were a sensitive sweet girl; it was both your blessing and curse.

“Maybe in a few months, we can try again, I don’t know.” You looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. “We just can’t be together right now. And I mean we’re going to graduate soon, and I might go to a college far away, how would that even work? But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s too late for that Y/N, you’ve already hurt me.” He dropped what he was holding and dug one of his hands into his pocket. He touched your face with his other hand, your tears covering his palm. “You’ve planned on leaving me this whole time. I wanted to give it another try you’ve made up your mind. I guess it just comes down to one thing.”

“What?” You asked.

“If I can’t have you, no one can,” he whispered before he pulled out the knife and plunged it into the side of your neck.

~~~

2011

“I killed you because I loved you,” he answers. “Because you were going to leave me and find someone else.”

All you can do is stare at him in silence. You think back to everything that happened. How could you have been so blind? It couldn’t have been your fault though. He would’ve killed you anyway. You think back to all the times Tate made you uneasy, all the times he would say things that creeped you out. Deep down you must’ve known that’s who he is. Maybe you knew all along.

Maybe you loved him because of his darkness.

You exhale a long breath. “We don’t have that long till midnight.”

“So?”

You shrug. “Wanna hook up?”

[fairyofhee]

ONE OF YOUR GIRLS.

PAIRING. heeseung x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS. It was difficult to contradict the rumors of you being obsessed with Lee Heeseung. But it was all true that you had a huge crush and a few wild fantasies about him. You were aware of his infamous reputation of how many girls he’s taken to his bed, yet you still wanted to be one of his.

WARNINGS. angst, fluff, contains smut! MINORS DNI. first time, fingering, unprotected sex, pull-out method. 7k words.

It started happening a few days ago when you heard the whispers of people making unsettling remarks about you. Apparently, you were obsessed with Lee Heeseung.

But the rumors were not true. You barely acknowledged Lee Heeseung’s existence, you certainly do not have the biggest crush on him, and most definitely didn’t have the fantasy to fuck him. These are wild statements to come out of someone’s mouth, but those were just rumors.

Well, that’s what you wanted people to think. It’s true that you have a crush on Heeseung, a huge one that gives you constant butterflies, in fact. It started off as small feelings in middle school because you just found him cute. Then in high school, you started to gain real feelings, an admiration for him. He was the smartest dude in school, the captain of the basketball team, and he was always soft spoken and sweet to anyone he talked to. It was impossible not to fall for him.

With all these years of having these feelings, you barely talked to him, even if being in the same circle of friends. Though, things started to change this school year. The friend group started to hang out often since ways would be parted for college next year. You and Heeseung started talking more and you even got to know each other better, which made you hopeful for something more.

But soon, you were met with bitterness, a feeling close to heartbreak. He started getting distant from everyone — especially from you. You overheard from the chatters around school that Heeseung was a major fuckboy now who slept with the girls at school. You never judged him, despite the aches in your chest that it caused.

The girls who slept with him would brag about how good he was. Heeseung, the sweet guy he is, was the sweetest in bed. And as much as it tarnishes your self worth and disregards the deep feelings you have, you didn’t mind the idea of being his just for one night, let alone a few hours.

You just wanted to be one of his girls.

You slammed your locker closed and was met with Heeseung who had a sly grin on his face.

“So, should I take you to my place tonight? Or do you prefer if I take you on a date first?”

You haven’t talked to him in a week and there was no doubt that he heard about the rumors — the rumors that he had no idea were true.

“What are you talking about?” You said with a hint of defensiveness. You quickly softened your expression to make up for your attitude, you were just tired of everyone talking about you.

“Nothing,” Heeseung shook his head, “I’m just teasing you. I heard what people are saying.”

“None of it is true,” You lied.

He let out a low laugh, which caused your heart to drop in fear. “It wouldn’t be so bad if they were.”

You gently push his shoulder and Heeseung quickly gets rid of the smirk on his face. “Stop joking around, a lot of people are already on my ass about it. And everyone knows you have a different girl in your bed every week, it just makes me seem twice as desperate.” You playfully say, taking the situation less seriously as Heeseung is.

You watched as his gaze fell to the floor. Were you wrong to bring up his reputation?

Heeseung scratched his head before meeting your eyes, “It’s just rumors and they will go away soon,” he spoke matter-of-factly.

“I’ll see you tonight at the bonfire?”

You scoff and shake your head. “I probably won’t go anymore because of what people are saying.”

He notices hurt evident on your face, but he smiles anyway. “If the rumors aren’t true then don’t let it bother you,” he takes a step closer and you start to feel your heart pound. “I’ll try to find out who started it, but I better see you tonight.”

At that he leaves, and there it was, the feeling of butterflies floating around in your stomach. His assurance makes you feel better.

It was impossible to hide how widely you smiled and how heated your cheeks felt. He was just being a kind and caring friend, yet it was impossible not to fall for him.

Bonfires were held by the school to celebrate the wins of the basketball team. You always had a great time hanging out with your friends, meeting new people, and supporting the team. Though, it also wasn’t fun to always watch the team captain stick his tongue down someone’s throat and completely disappearing before the night ended.

You decided to attend the one held tonight, although things would be different. There will be people who are constantly going to talk about you or maybe even say things directly to your face.

On the way to the bonfire, you thought about the last words Heeseung said to you at school before he left your locker. These stupid remarks that people are saying will eventually go away. But you still had no idea who would start these rumors.

You thought that you hid your feelings pretty well by not telling anyone, not even your closest friends. Maybe you were just too obvious.

“What if someone humiliates me tonight?” You walked down the beach with Hana, having a churned feeling in your gut.

“We’re not gonna let that happen,” Hana softly says while wrapping a blanket around you. “The boys will literally kick someone’s ass, you know how protective they are of you.”

You thank Hana for helping you ease up. You let go of your uneasy thoughts, Heeseung is expecting to see you which matters right now.

“You guys made it,” Jake got up from his seat to hug you and Hana. You look around and take in your surroundings. There were more people than you expected. Sunghoon and Jay were sitting down around the campfire along with a few students from school that you recognized.

Noticing that Heeseung wasn’t here, you press your lips in a small frown, already thinking about the worst of where he may be.

“Where’s Heeseung? Did he already leave with someone tonight?” You ask Jake in a playful manner, preparing your disappointment if he already had disappeared with someone else.

“No,” Jake laughed, “The basketball team snuck in booze so he’s helping with that. He’ll be back.”

You nod and try to hide the evident sigh of relief that was let out. “Forget that I asked,” you laughed before going around the campfire to greet Sunghoon and Jay.

“Are you okay?” Jay asked. “I’m fine, I’m just gonna hang for now and probably get a drink later,” you said, taking a seat in an empty space. You recognize the person sitting to the left of you, he was definitely a player of the basketball team.

“Hey, aren’t you suppose to help-“

“Have you fucked the captain yet?”

You heard the boy say as his lips turn into a sneer, and you started to chuckle nervously, the question catching you off-guard but it was expected right? You and your obsession with Heeseung was the talk of the town this week.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” You groaned out. Before the boy could answer, he was lightly smacked in the head. “Hey, leave her alone,” announced a familiar voice from behind you.

It was Heeseung with an agitated look on his face, and you couldn’t help but feel your lips slightly upturn into a grin. You watched as Heeseung took a seat, separating you and his teammate.

The action made your heart warm.

“When did you get here?” The irritated look on his face changed as he smiled fondly.

“I just got here with Hana.”

Heeseung nods before initiating small tension of silence. You notice him carefully bringing his stare to you. It was as if he using his eyes to trace every detail on your face and this freaked you out.

“Is there something on my face?” You questioned anxiously, hoping that you didn’t actually have anything on your face because it would be embarrassing, especially in front of your crush that you’re trying to impress.

Heeseung shook his head and chuckled. “No, I’m just glad you’re here,” he softly said.

A shit eating grin appeared from his response and you were flustered, your face possibly super red.

“Am I missing something?” You giggled, in disbelief of the words coming out of his mouth.

You were happy to know that he’s glad to see you, you actually wanted to scream, but you were also a bit confused on why he suddenly felt this way.

He was a fuckboy and this was probably his way of taking his girls to bed, not that you minded because this is what you want — a chance to be his for one night, but something felt off.

“All of a sudden you’re happy to be around me,” you lightly shrugged while taking a moment to get lost in his wide eyes, “What’s going on?”

His throat bobbled before he forced out a laugh, “Nothing’s going on. I just wanna make sure you’re doing okay after what people are saying.”

You didn’t know why, but you had a hard time believing him. You had a feeling that he wasn’t telling the truth. “Thank you-“

“We’re gonna play truth or drink.”

You drew your attention away from Heeseung when Hana was in front of you.

“I’ll pass,” you tell her.

Hana crosses her arms and pouts, “Just play for one round then you can go back to- whatever,” she turned her gaze to Heeseung who was awfully sitting closer than you remember. Hana notices the close proximity but doesn’t comment on it, instead, she’s waiting for you to answer.

“Why are we playing truth or drink?”

Hana grins, “The boys suggested it because they’re bored and the booze hasn’t kicked in yet.”

“Fine, but just one round,” you warn.

Hana happily takes a seat next to you with Heeseung still on your left. You watch your friends and a few familiar people around the campfire get comfortable before the game starts.

“Heeseung,” Sunghoon managed to get everyone’s attention, “Can I ask you first?”

You turn to face Heeseung who swallowed as he sat up to unintentionally fix his posture. “Sure,” he said without hesitation.

“Alright, let me think,” Sunghoon muttered.

“When was the last time you slept with someone?” There was a hint of tease in his voice.

Heeseung eyes got a bit wider while the question caused the others to ‘ooh’ like children. You, however, felt your stomach twist. You were curious, but also didn’t need a reminder that the guy you have feelings for is sleeping around with most of the girls at school but you.

You feel your brows furrow when Heeseung locked eyes with you for a moment before he finally spoke out his answer. “A month ago.”

You tried to give out a quiet laugh, but Heeseung heard and quizzically tilted his head at your reaction. “You’re lying,” you murmured.

Heeseung peered intently at you, he was taken aback. “It’s the truth,” he cleared his throat.

You almost feel bad, but you skeptically stared at him, “I have a hard time believing that.”

His expression turned into a more serious one, and you suddenly felt a sense of nervousness wash over you. Have you struck a nerve?

“I’m sorry,” you said as he went silent, “It’s just hard to believe that the biggest fuckboy at school would go a month without sex.”

You and the others who heard everything shared a look as Heeseung snickered. You turned to face him and this time he was closer. There was an uncomfortable closeness. He was intimidating, and you felt your breath hitch, regretting the words that came out of your mouth.

“How many times are you gonna mention me being a ‘fuckboy’ and the girls in my bed?” The change of tone in his voice was almost scary.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” You shake your head and try to apologize. You acted out of jealously and bitterness. “Heeseung-“

“I answered. Who’s turn is it?” he interjected while looking around to continue the game. Thankfully, no one made a single comment to what was heard. Jake proceeded with the game by asking the girl next to him a question.

You cursed under your breath knowing that it was wrong to not believe Heeseung’s answer and to bring up his reputation about his sex life. Not wanting things to be weird, you attempt to apologize again but was met with hard silence.

After a moment of listening to your friends play the game that you forgot was occurring, Heeseung finally looks back at you and there was something in his gaze you had never seen.

“Are you jealous because you want to fuck me?” He mutters lowly for only you to hear.

You freeze completely.

The intensity in his stare and the sensual tone in his voice made you feel something that you have never felt before when he spoke to you.

“T-that’s not true,” you stuttered, trying to ignore how hot your ears and cheeks felt.

You felt as if you were caught and the truth of yours was finally going to come out. You weren’t ready to tell Heeseung about your feelings, you weren’t even sure if you’re going to confess.

“I know,” Heeseung softly lets out with a quick change of expression. He grins, noticing your flushed face. “I’m sorry, it was just a joke. I just like seeing you flustered,” he admits.

You playfully push his shoulder just as you did when he was at your locker earlier today. You let out a huge sigh of content that he wasn’t super pissed about the comments you made. But why was he always playing around with you?

“Y/N, your turn.” Someone from your class blurted out which caused your head to shoot up.

“What’s your question?” You uttered.

Your classmate took a pause to think of a suitable question to ask. “Are you currently seeing or dating anyone?” They finally spoke.

“I am not,” you said easily.

“That’s good to know,” a voice said and you swore it came from the left of you, but you weren’t certain. Suddenly, you notice everyone looking at the boy next to Heeseung, the one who spoke to you earlier, with faces of terror.

“What did you say?” You asked the basketball player with a slight anxious tone to your voice.

Along with everyone around the campfire, Heeseung had his eyes glued to his teammate.

“I said that it’s good to know you’re single,” He said with an exasperated voice.

The comment made you feel a bit irked, but your focus was on everyone whispering and some even laughing before they quickly moved on.

“She’s lying,” you heard another sudden voice blurt out. This time, the voice sounded clear and close. “She’s taken by me,” Heeseung declared, not sparing you a glance.

“What?” You exclaimed, feeling your heart beat rapidly to the point that you didn’t notice Hana trying to speak to you. “Heeseung, stop,” you urged, knowing that he was playing around again.

Heeseung ignored you and instead, nodded his head, “We’ve been dating for awhile now.”

“Stop fucking around again, it’s not funny,” You pleaded while grabbing onto his arm to get his attention. He finally met your eye contact but kept going with his act by appearing to be upset.

“Baby, come on.” He whined out, practically begging with his big doe eyes.

You would usually feel the butterflies in your stomach, but this was different. You started to wonder why he treated everything as a joke. And it wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t aware of your feelings, but he was really torturing you.

“Is that why you made up those rumors?”

Heeseung glanced over your head as your eyes widened at the sudden statement. You turned around and surprise crossed Jake’s face.

“You made things up to soft launch your relationship?” Jake continued, directly speaking to Heeseung.

You take a second to process Jake’s words and the look Heeseung gave him. All you can do is inquisitively raise your brow at Heeseung, while trying to get rid of the huge lump in your throat.

“What is he saying?” You softly asked, trying to ignore the heavily feeling in your chest. Heeseung opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it.

“You made up those rumors?” You raised your voice, trying to get an answer out of him, but there was nothing so you get up from your seat and stand before him.

“Do you know how many people at school have humiliated me?” You choked out as the realization hits you. You were betrayed by your own friend who happened to be the one guy that you have intense feelings for. “Why did you do it?”

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” Heeseung stands and attempts to hold your arm but you quickly pull away.

You shook your head fervently, “That’s all you have to say? Why are you doing this to me?”

Lee Heeseung always gave you a sense of what heartbreak felt like. The way most girls had a taste of him and how he betrayed you.

Was it wrong to not believe that he was hurting you? Maybe you were obsessed with him.

“I’ll bring you home,” Hana reaches out for your hand and leads the way to the car, both of you leaving the bonfire after saying quick goodbyes to your confused friends. You felt humiliated enough and just wanted to go home.

You hear Heeseung practically chasing after you, “Wait,” he pleads, voice cracking lowly.

“Why did you do it?” You let out, blinking back incoming tears because you weren’t going to cry.

“You’re always fucking around with me and I didn’t do shit to you,” the pain in your voice was so evident that Heeseung shook his head, an array of emotions flurrying across his face.

“I didn’t mean to humiliate you,” he gently said.

As much as it hurts, you said nothing and got inside the car, leaving Heeseung feeling like complete shit. You repeatedly asked the same question, yet it was always dodged. To you, it wasn’t worth to fight for an answer anymore.

On the way home you confessed to Hana about your crush. She wasn’t all that surprised because yeah, you were just too obvious about it.

Now you were in bed, trying to forget all that is Lee Heeseung, but it was too damn hard. Your stupid crush as you call it, felt more than a simple crush. That invisible pull he had on you was too strong and it seemed impossible to move on.

You wonder if he were ever going to apologize, were you going to forgive him quickly?

The thought of moving on continued until you felt your eyes closed and drifted to sleep. But suddenly, you heard a few taps on the window which caused your eyes to snap open.

Surprised and super tense, you ran to your window and hesitatingly open your blinds to reveal Heeseung standing outside on your balcony. He had that same look on his face when didn’t spare him a chance to speak before getting inside the car. You open your window to let him in, praying that you weren't loud enough to wake your parents up who were asleep down the hall.

“You scared me,” you whispered, watching him enter your room through the window with ease. You quickly cross your arms, feeling a bit exposed in just silk pajama pants and a tank top.

“What are you doing here?” You panic as he scans your room. “My parents are sleeping and-“

“I’m sorry I made up those rumors,” he interrupts, face dropping in hurt as he stands before you. You narrowed your eyes at him, realizing how close he was standing. It was difficult to keep your heart steady, you didn’t even have time to process that Lee Heeseung was in your room.

“Why did you do it?” You ask the same question once more, hoping he answers this time.

“I did it because I wanted your attention,” his throat bobbles. “It’s actually really fucking stupid,” Heeseung sighs hard as you attentively listen, not fully understanding his words.

“I like you a lot and I thought that these rumors would bring us closer together,” he confesses. “It’s so stupid, I don’t know why I thought that.”

Your breath hitches as your arms drop. This new information is hitting you with surprise, causing you to take a tentative step forward, “You like me?” You couldn’t believe him.

Heeseung nods, “I’ve liked you for a while,” he huffs and glances away. “I started sleeping around to distract myself from you, and I tried getting rid of my feelings because I knew you wouldn’t like me back,” a laugh was let out.

Your mouth falls open, but you were speechless. The boy you’re practically in love with is reciprocating his feelings and he left you momentarily stunned as if a sudden jolt of electricity had coursed through your veins.

“Heeseung,” you shake your head, having a difficult time comprehending what you’ve heard.

“Wait,” he brings both hands to each of your bare shoulders. “It’s true that I’ve stopped seeing other girls. Whenever I was with them I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he pauses and grins for a moment, “So I had to stop.”

“You sound insane right now,” you let out without thought and he sighed with a nod, “And you made me look like a fool and an obsessive freak.”

He nodded again while removing his hands, “I know and I’m really sorry for doing that to you. And I’m sorry for what I pulled at the bonfire, it was wrong to lie like that in front of everyone.”

You crossed your arms, “The rumors you said-“

“What I said about you was fucked up.”

A frown fell upon him as you stare into his eyes. You knew he was genuine with his words — he wouldn’t have snuck into your room and risk getting you both caught if he wasn’t.

You slowly step forward, cupping his face with a hand and taking the chance to finally close the gap between you two, capturing his lips in a kiss. You heard him let out a gasp when he felt your lips on his. Heeseung easily melts into you while returning your kiss, and you can’t help but smile, finally kissing him after wanting him for so long.

You were the first one to pull away when air became necessary, “What you said was all true.”

He furrowed his brows, unable to find words to say anything. The redness of his ears makes you giggle, it was cute to see how shy he was.

“I like you too and I thought about being with you,” you interlock your hand with his, never leaving his gaze. “I thought about it a lot actually,” you remove the hair in your face, “Whenever I heard that you were with someone else.”

Heeseung tried to gather the courage to speak. According to his words, he’d never thought that you would feel the same way. To express what he was feeling inside, he brought his lips to yours for a quick kiss before pulling away.

“What fantasies do you have of me?”

The question causes you to hide your face in embarrassment, but Heeseung quickly removes your hands, regretting his pestering remark.

“I’m truly sorry, I’ll make sure people at school will stop talking about you. I did something very shitty and you don’t deserve it,” he admits.

“I forgive you,” you bury your face in Heeseung’s shoulder, “Only because I’m an obsessed freak.” You joke hastily causing him to chuckle fondly.

After a moment of being in each other’s embrace, you stare into his vulnerable eyes, allowing yourself to act on your feelings. “I want to be yours. I always have,” you beamed.

Heeseung understands quickly, because he also has always wanted to be yours. His eyes fluttered closed as he pressed his lips against yours softly.

He kissed you gently and slow, until he’s suddenly attacking your lips, and you feel both of his large hands cupping your small face. He licks your bottom lip for permission to shove his tongue inside your mouth and you accept, both of you fighting for dominance. It was like a reflex with the way you grabbed onto his hair.

You felt his hand slip under your tank top and he grabs your breast, kneading it gently. A loud exhale leaves your mouth, his touch igniting you.

Heeseung quickly broke away from you and nuzzled your temple before taking a deep breath then sighing, “We don’t have to go all the way.”

“Lee Heeseung turning down sex?” You tease him and he laughs before kissing you once more.

“I didn’t come here expecting something to happen. You’re special to me.”

His declaration makes your hurt flutter and creates an uncomfortable feeling between your legs. “I want you,” you tell him.

Heeseung freezes.

“Have you done it before?” He takes your hand.

You hesitate before shaking your head, “I’ve did other things before, but I’ve never gone all the way with someone.”

Your response makes him pause.

“Then it shouldn’t be with me,” he says before withdrawing his touch and taking a step back.

You grab his arm, refusing him to walk away, “Hey, I want it to be with you. I don’t care about how many other girls you’ve had, that’s not important,” you tell him. “Heeseung, please.”

It felt like a long time waiting for him to say something. Finally, he speaks up, “If we do this then I want you to tell me to stop when you want me to,” his voice is uncharacteristically quiet.

“Okay,” You nod your head accordingly.

“But we can’t be too loud, your parents are down the hall,” he amusingly smiles.

You nod your head one more time as he searches for any last signs of you wanting to back out. His hot breath fanned on your face as you pull him closer by his shirt.

He leans further down to press a trail of kisses against your jaw as you take a deep breath before tugging at the end of his shirt while his hand slides under yours, cupping your breast firmly this time. Heeseung removes his shirt, revealing his exposed chest as you take off yours.

You watch him take a step back to admire you, which leaves your face flushed with heat.

“You’re perfect,” he says, and all you could do is smile because you notice the tent in his pants.

Heeseung wraps his arms around your waist and shoves his tongue back inside your mouth. You rub your thighs together feeling yourself getting soaked, you wanted to feel him already.

When you wrap your arms around his shoulders, you can’t help the way your body reacts to him as you attempt to rub yourself against him.

Heeseung notices this and instead of letting you continue, he slides a hand inside your pants and between your legs to spread your slick while also pressing the heel of his palm on your clit.

“That feels good,” you groan out, still attempting to press against him. When you succeed, a small grunt leaves his lips. “Does it?” He says coyly while curling his long fingers inside you.

You don’t answer him and it’s because he’s hitting your sweet spot, making you unable to speak. He fastens his pace and you feel your orgasm approaching, “H-Heeseung, I’m so close,”

He relentlessly rubs circles around your clit, reveling in the pretty noises coming out of your mouth. You feel your thighs shaking as you continue grinding against him, and it was becoming too much until you let out your release, holding onto his biceps to steady yourself.

After retracting his fingers and wiping them clean on his pants, Heeseung easily picks you up from off the ground and props you on your bed. He grabs the band of your pants to pull them down before quickly slipping off your panties. You impatiently lay there, waiting for him to undress.

He starts to strip off his pants by unbuttoning the buttons, his boxers followed by it. The sight of his cock leaking with precum caused your eyes to widen. He was pretty, prettier from what you’ve seen before, and you can’t help but feel nervous as to how he was going to fit inside you.

But you trust him and give him a nod to continue because you want this so bad. Heeseung started to stroke himself, and with the copious amount of precum, he was able to glide up and down with ease. The view of Lee Heeseung looking gorgeous on your bed while naked leaves you breathless.

“Shit,” he lets out a panic grunt.

You sit up and notice the worried look on his face, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry baby, I-I don’t have a condom,” he mutters, and by the tone in his voice, you could tell that he was freaking out. “I have one in the car, I could run to get it really quick.”

You think about it for a second before shaking your head. Although a condom would be the safest choice, you don’t want him to get dressed just to undress again. Your parents were still in the house, and you were afraid that he’d get caught sneaking back inside.

You also wanted him now, you weren’t sure if you could wait much longer. “You can just pull out,” you suggest and he immediately refuses.

“It’s okay, I trust you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t have a problem getting it.”

You reach for his hand and give it a tight squeeze before nodding, “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Unless you aren’t?” You continue.

Heeseung shakes his head, “No, I’m sure. I want you too, very badly, but I want you to feel safe.”

You lay back down while pulling Heeseung until he’s hovered over you. “I trust you, Hee. It’s fine.”

Heeseung merely tilts his head and lets his smile deepen as he removes the hair in your face to see you clearly. He kisses the side of your mouth then your lips before taking his throbbing length to slowly slide inside you.

With his precum and your dripping core, he is able to slide in easily, but he deliberately takes a slow amount of time, not wanting to hurt you. Your hands desperately grabbed at his bare shoulders, digging your nails in as he slides in deeper. You feel full when he’s only halfway in, and as much as you wanted to him to bottom you out and fuck you relentlessly, it did hurt a bit.

“I’m sorry,” he halts and completely slips out, feeling you slightly shift and noticing the uncomfortable look on your face.

“No,” you grab him by the arm, “Don’t stop.”

Heeseung obliges, lining his cock up with your entrance and gently easing the tip inside. He inched inside deeper and your walls squeezed when inviting him in. Heeseung fully inserted himself into you, causing you to cling onto him and let out a loud whine. He allowed you to adjust as he stretched you out and the feeling felt better than just fingers, you were already addicted.

He grabbed your thighs and grinded himself upwards, placing his dick so deep inside you. Heeseung grit his teeth attempting to hold back his sounds before planting a weak kiss on your lips, never feeling like this with anyone else.

“Does it feel good?” He whimpers, gradually increasing his pace when thrusting inside you.

All he got as a response was moan and he chuckled, finding it cute. You were enthralled, feeling his movements become faster, more ragged and desperate. “It feels- so good.”

Heeseung was watching you with lustful eyes as you took his cock in ecstasy. Your lips met, exchanging warm breaths and loud moans into each other’s mouths as it echoed inside your room. “You feel good, perfectly made for me.”

“I’m glad it’s with you,” You accidentally let out, trying to contain your moan. After hearing your words, he groaned and firmed your hips closer. You feel him increasing his pace, hitting your spot as he slid in and out of you, almost tipping you over the edge. “Heeseung-“ You began.

He lets out a soft grunt before slyly sneaking a hand down to graze your clit. You squeeze your eyes shut and clench hard, his words and warm touch helping you to approach your release.

“Hee, I’m close,” you cry out. He continues thrusting sensually, causing loud sounds to leave both of your mouths at the sensation.

Simultaneously, you both cover each other’s mouths restricting the loud noises so that you wouldn’t wake your parents up. And you release just like that, moaning into Heeseung’s hand.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, “You’re perfect.”

You were dizzy and disoriented, barely making out the words that left his lips as he slows down his rhythm, still fast enough to chase his own release. “I’m gonna cum,” he whined, his fingers gripping your hips almost painfully.

His touch felt amazing and you were vaguely aware of Heeseung pulling out just in time. You groaned, watching as he gasped himself in his fist, pumping himself over your stomach as he painted you with his seed.

His weight gently pushed you flat against the mattress, his puddle of cum sticking on the both of you as you both shook from the intensity of your orgasms. Heeseung pressed small kisses to your shoulders before getting up from your bed and picking up his shirt to clean you.

“Are you okay?” Heeseung asked before rolling to lay next to you. “Does it hurt?”

You shook your head, “It was perfect,” you then plant a small kiss on his lips while removing a piece of his hair that stuck to his forehead.

“You were very sweet with me.”

“I told you that you’re special to me,” he replies, pressing his lips against your forehead.

The corners of your mouth upturned into a huge smile, the butterflies in your stomach were floating around as if they didn’t leave. But in a matter of a quick second, your body language changes into a more stern and stiff manner.

“What’s wrong?” His voice trembled in concern.

A sudden feeling of insecurity hit. Heeseung knew how to make you feel good, it wasn’t like anything you’ve ever felt before and a reason might be because he is experienced, but you wonder if you were able to satisfy him — to make him feel good.

“You were so perfect, I don’t know if you could say the same,” you drop your head in defeat. “I’m sorry if it didn’t feel good to you-“

“Baby, stop talking,” he urges.

“You said that you don’t care about how many girls I’ve been with,” he reiterates. “I don’t care if you’re experienced or not, it was perfect because it was with you. I want to be with you.”

You could feel your voice caught in your throat. The look in his eyes as he declared his words made your heart pound hard in your chest. It feels unreal to finally win over your crush of how many long tumultuous years. After everything, you wonder how lucky you got with him.

And Heeseung was thinking the same thing. He felt lucky to be with you after all of his fuck ups, he was obsessed with you too.

“You’re with me,” you tell him.

“Okay then,” he looks satisfied, “You’re my girl.”

© fairyofhee 2023.

note — thank you for reading! please leave any thoughts or comments, reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated!

[m0llygunn]

Hello! Can I request oneshot with Eddie and virgin reader?

Something like when they're talking casually and she confesses that she feels so insecure about being virgin at her age (22) when everyone she knows has boyfriends/girlfriends and had first sex a long time ago. But she hasn't even kissed anyone and she doesn't know how it works.

(She has also a big crush on Eddie but she's shy about it)

How do you think Eddie would react?

It's so personal for me but if you're not comfortable with this idea it's okay ☺️

Thank you for your time!

hi! sorry for how long it took! I didn't want to write something too too similar to Eddie's Notes, so it took me a minute to think something up, hope thats okay!

also this is my first request!! thank you! I hope you like it :)

it's not too explicit but 18+ only please!

wc: 2.4k+

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“How much do you wanna bet they’ll be fucking within the hour?” Eddie whispers, leaning in close enough for you to hear him.

“Huh?” you reply, catching Eddie’s gaze. He nods back to the couple you’ve both been sparring glances at ever since you sat down.

You and Eddie stopped at the diner to get late dinner after hanging out with the group at Steve’s house. He was just going to drive you home, but he insisted he was starving and you both had to stop for food. You’re not complaining, you’ve always had quite the soft spot for Eddie and more time with him is always welcomed.

You both sat at the back of the diner on the same side of the booth as Eddie insisted it was the best spot for people watching. Sitting in the other back corner of the restaurant was some girl you hardly recognized from high school and a guy who you assumed was her date.

To you, it looked innocent. They both sat on the same side of the booth, probably doing the same thing you and Eddie were doing. Their shoulders were just barely touching and they were making quick, shy glances at one another. To you, you thought that maybe it was a first date due to their nervousness, so for Eddie to think they’ll be fucking within the hour… you couldn’t help but look at him in pure confusion. 

“His hand’s been on her thigh the whole night and she’s been slowly inching it up, see,” he explains in a low voice, motioning down to under their table. You spare another glance and just as he said, their hands are just nearing the hem of her skirt. 

“I didn’t notice,” you say quietly, refocusing your attention on your food, picking at your fries.

To you, they looked innocent. You thought their nervousness was because it was a first date. What a stupid thing to think.

“Look, look,” Eddie says excitedly, leaning further into you, laying his arm across the back of the booth. You glance over as the guy's hand fully travels under the girl’s skirt. 

“Eddie, I can't watch that,” you say, turning away out of embarrassment for yourself and the couple.

“What’s wrong? Never fooled around in public before?” he teases, his arm behind you coming forward just enough to nudge your shoulder.

“No,” you say quietly, throwing down the fry you’ve been swirling around on your plate before crossing your arms over your chest. 

“What?” he laughs and you shrug. 

No, you haven’t fooled around in public. You haven’t fooled around, full stop. Not even a kiss. Not even a hand hold. Not in public nor in private. Nothing. 

“You’re telling me you haven’t gone on a date and the guy hasn’t gotten a little handsy with you?” Eddie teases further.

You’d have to go on dates for someone to get handsy with you. You shrug again, just faintly shaking your head. You turn your face away from Eddie only to be met with the sight of the guy's hand all the way up the girl's skirt— something you really don’t want to see. You redirect your gaze forward, having nowhere else to look at this point. 

“I don’t believe you,” he laughs, hand nudging your shoulder again. You shrug again, sighing heavily. 

“Eddie. I don’t go on dates,” you say, flatly. 

“Me neither really. I guess, it’s kind of an old school thing,” he says, taking a sip of his drink. He clearly doesn’t understand what you mean. You brave a glance at Eddie. You like him. You have for a while.

“Eddie, can I tell you something really embarrassing?”

He sets his drink down, and while you go back to avoiding his gaze, you can tell he’s making every attempt to meet yours. You look at him for a split second before looking down at the table once again.

“Yeah, of course,” he says quietly. You can feel his hand grazing your shoulder, fingers just barely brushing over your skin. As nervous and embarrassed as you are to say what you’re about to say, his light, gentle contact is sort of relaxing, soothing in a way. Eddie’s always been kind, you know he won’t be mean about it, that’s just not in his nature, but it’s still something you’re insecure about. 

“I don’t go on dates, or do anything like that,” you say, nodding your head over to the couple. His eyebrows raise before he relaxes into a light laugh, like he expected you to say something different maybe. 

“Okay… not everyone’s into public stuff, it’s fine,” he smiles. His hand settles completely on your shoulder and that gives you the courage to just blurt it all out. 

“I’m a virgin, Eddie,” you say, hushing your voice. 

“Oh?” he says, in a short sort of quiet gasp. If you thought he expected you to say something else earlier, you can tell that he really didn’t expect you to say that.

“Yeah,” you hum, hoping he’ll give you some other reaction other than his blank stare.

“Oh,” he says again, his eyes shifting down to your crossed arms before back up to meet your gaze. You cower under his look, regretting saying anything. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. It’s so embarrassing.” You say, shifting in the seat, not sure if you want to get up and leave or just hope that the earth opens up and swallows you whole. Eddie’s hand on your shoulder grows more firm, keeping you still.

“No— no. I’m just... I didn’t know. Is it… like, on purpose?” he asks tentatively, keeping his tone soft.

“No,” you answer, shrinking into yourself as the burning from your cheeks turns into your whole body lighting aflame. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, leaning into you, his hand on your shoulder pulling you in closer to him at the same time. 

The couple draw both yours and Eddie’s attention as the girl giggles loudly. When you look over at them, they’re both quickly shuffling out of their booth. The guy wraps his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a kiss before taking her hand and guiding her out of the restaurant. It makes your stomach sink because that’s exactly what you’ve never had and it’s mocking you right to your face. 

“It’s not okay, Eddie, it’s embarrassing. Like, that—” you say, motioning to the direction that the couple just left in. “That’s what normal people my age do. Everyone’s had relationships and I haven’t done anything,” you say hastily, feeling entirely too fed up with yourself for being in this situation. It’s hard to not be upset with yourself when people around you are constantly reminding you how behind you are, even without them knowing it. 

Eddie squeezes your shoulder lightly. “I think you forget who you’re talking to right now,” he laughs.

“Eddie, you’re not a virgin,” you state.

“No, but I was. For a long time. Nobody was exactly lining up to get with the satanic super senior freak,” he says, adding emphasis to the names he’s been called over the years. You know he’s just saying this stuff to make you feel better about yourself, and it makes you feel worse. He shouldn’t have to put himself down. Eddie’s the best and it’s not fair for him to do that. 

“Yeah, but you’re not a ‘satanic super senior freak’. You’re cool, you’re in a band, you’re attractive. So many people would be lucky to be with you. It's different, you’re hot and funny— and you’re not 22 years old and still a virgin,” you blurt out, squeezing your folded arms over your chest harder. You shift in your seat again, contemplating getting up, but Eddie’s hand on your shoulder pulls you in even closer to him until your shoulder meets the edge of his chest and your hip meets his.

“Hey. It’s okay. I’m not judging you, you’re fine,” he says, softly.

“But—”

“I’m serious. If that experience hasn’t happened yet, it’s no big deal.”

You deflate into yourself, feeling the embarrassment burn hot inside of you. Eddie shifts, facing you but you keep your head down, avoiding his gaze. His free hand landing on your thigh startles you, making you look up at him in surprise. You’re met with a soft smile, like he knew that would get your attention. 

“You know, you’re attractive too. Very pretty. Just because some idiot hasn’t made the moves on you yet, doesn’t mean you aren’t.”

“Don’t say stuff just to be nice,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heat for an entirely different reason. 

“I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you. You’re smart, and funny, and I like being around you,” he says, leaning in even closer, close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheek.

“Eddie, I haven’t even kissed someone before,” you say, turning to him abruptly. You're nearly nose to nose with him, and it makes your heart beat too fast. You pull back a few inches, looking at Eddie but his gaze stays low on your face.

“Is it a bad time for me to say I’ve been dying to kiss you?” he asks, eyes still lingering low, and you suddenly realize it’s your lips he’s focusing on.

“What?” you say, your brows pinching in confusion. 

“I want to kiss you,” he repeats with clarity, eyes meeting yours. You shake your head, surely this is a joke. 

“Stop making fun of me,” you huff, uncrossing your arms. You put your hand over Eddie’s to pry it from your thigh. He let’s go, taking your hand in his instead, making you stop dead in your tracks.

“Why do you think I brought you here? Why do you think we’re sitting in the back of the diner?” he says, raising his brows. “And it’s not just because I wanted to spy on the couple who was practically fucking back here.”

“I don’t know.” 

“Because I’ve been dying to kiss you. It’s awfully hard to get you alone, you know?” he says. He smiles at you softly, squeezing your hand in his. Your stomach flutters. You’ve thought about this moment, wanted it so badly— yet something inside of you still holds you back. 

“I don’t know how,” you say, feeling flustered. He squeezes your hand, dipping his face to meet your gaze.

“It’s easy, just come closer,” he whispers. You do as he says and he hums lowly. His hand on your shoulder moves to the back of your head, keeping you moving into him at a steady pace and he inches forward, meeting you in the middle. 

You let your eyes flutter shut, and you feel his lips on yours, light as a feather. He presses into you more firmly, and when his lips start to move, you freeze up, not knowing what to do. His hand on the back of your head moves to your neck, caressing you softly— like an encouragement. He slows down and you take the leap, following his lead. You match his pace, moving your lips like he does, copying the movements, and he hums again— like a praise this time. 

“Easy, isn’t it?” he says, just barely moving away from your lips. 

“Yeah,” you agree breathily, feeling like your whole body is tingling. 

“You’re a natural,” he says. You feel his breath against your lips and you don’t know if you want to run away or lean in for more. He doesn’t give you the chance either way before he’s tugging you closer to his chest so your head rests on his shoulder. His hand guides you to look up at him.

“I like you for you. Not the experiences you have or haven’t had,” he says, meeting your gaze. His words make your stomach explode with butterflies but your head stops you from letting yourself believe his sentiment. 

“Don’t you think it’s embarrassing though?” you ask.

“Would you think it was embarrassing if it were the other way around? Would you like me less if I were a virgin?”

“No,” you reply honestly. You would never like Eddie less for something superficial like that. The way he looks at you so softly is a testament to how good he is, you wouldn’t like him any less even if he were a virgin. 

“Things happen at different times for people. I’m sure you’ve done all kinds of things I haven’t done before… like graduating on your first try,” he says with a smirk.

“Don’t put yourself down just to make me feel better,” you say, leaning further up towards him, squinting your eyes into a glare so he knows you’re serious. 

He laughs at you, nodding his head gently before continuing.“I’m just saying, sex isn’t the end all be all of who you are. Not to sound preachy, but it’s only embarrassing if you let it embarrass you— and it shouldn’t. At all. Ever,” he emphasizes, rubbing his hand against your side. His lips quirk up into a smirk—one you’re familiar with and know that it typically means he’s up to no good. “And if you ever want to not be a virgin, I’m right here,” he says, digging his fingers into your ribs, making you laugh. 

It was a joke— him being there if you ever wanted to not be a virgin, but then it was the truth. When Eddie drove you home, he helped you brush up on your kissing skills. Right before you went inside for the night, he asked you on a date. 

While it didn’t happen that night or even that week, it did happen eventually. And when it did, Eddie was slow with you. He was patient with you, and made sure you were comfortable the whole time. You’ve always heard the romanticized versions of people losing their virginity, and how it was so perfect, and this or that, but with Eddie, it really was. He was someone you cared for and trusted and that’s what made it perfect. 

He quelled all your negative thoughts. He made sure you knew that your sex life didn’t dictate who you were. What experiences you had or didn’t have doesn’t make you or break you.

He took you on a date, he kissed you, held your hand, held you. He took you on more dates, called you his, did all the things you dreamt about— the things you were worried you would never get. 

Everything you hadn’t done, you did with Eddie. For a long time you thought you were missing out. In some ways, maybe you were, but if you had to choose, you’d do it all over again exactly the same, as long as you’d get to do it all over again with Eddie. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

thank you again!

[starstruckgrrl]

MORE TAMAKI🙏🙏🙏

who am i to deny you 🫡

ꕤ*. synopsis: tamaki doesn’t do so well at hero events, but he’s grounded with you there. not to mention you give him the perfect motivation!

↳ ♡₊˚.warnings: smut, car sex, he says “i love you”, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, sub!tamaki, pet names, established relationship, lil bit of edging, cute tamaki naps for aftercare :3

a/n: sorry if the way i capitalize some stuff has changed, i want to make it easier to read!! i really hope you like it, give me some feedback or suggestions pls!!

ever since he’s met you, tamaki has been doing a lot better at handling any event that comes his way. his friends take notice, praising him for sticking around “this long!”

he owes his success to you, who he will often scamper off to. you’re always with him at every event, keeping him grounded and confident(ish).

usually, he’ll take you everywhere with him, making you become his bodyguard against awkward conversations or slightly passive aggressive behavior. however, you know that it is good for him to do some things on his own so he won’t feel so horrible when you’re busy and can’t escort him everywhere.

so the pro-hero Suneater is here, after several minutes of you gently pushing him, at a table with Deku, Dynamight, Lemillion, Red Riot, Nejire Chan, and a few other names from high school. while he does feel much better that nejire and mirio are there with him, the potential comfort he might have had is ruined when everyone delves into questions about his personal life.

tamaki mentally curses mirio, who asks first, “Suneater! i haven’t met that girl you’ve been parading around yet? when will i get to meet her?”

“her name is ——, and you can meet her soon, i guess? she said she would follow me over soon.” tamaki replied.

“she’s very nice, Lemillion! i met her once while getting a drink at an event a week or so ago, and she was nothing but kind!” Deku shot out, happy to have met a nice person.

nejire never passes up an opportunity to talk about something happy, so she began her rambling, “she’s so preeeetty! can you ask her about what products she uses in her hair? does she have extensions? does she wear wigs? if so, where does she get such natural ones?”

the indigo-haired hero you cherished began to sink in his seat, visibly overwhelmed by the onslaught of questions that had begun after the mention of his date, but felt better when he felt your hand pat him on the shoulder.

“hi, baby. are you doing okay?” you asked, loud enough for people sitting near him to hear, but to him nonetheless.

he began to sit up in his seat, the pet name being comforting enough to help him regain some composure, “yes, i’m okay, how are you?”

you gave him a small smile as you sat in your spot next to him, confirming that you were feeling alright.

mirio was the first to speak to you, “are you ——?! i’ve heard so much about you!! well, pieces about you, tamaki is kind of private about your relationship, but pieces nonetheless!!”

“yes, that’s me! it’s lovely to meet tamaki’s best friend!” you replied, recognizing tamaki’s description of his grade-school friend.

“AWWW, Suneater, you’ve told her about me!” mirio shouted.

tamaki smiled up at him, how could he ever think that he wouldn’t tell everyone about the person who motivated him so much?

~

as the evening went on, you had been asked plenty of questions, mainly by nejire. you had no complaints, as you found everyone thoroughly entertaining and sweet.

the whole time, you were keeping physical contact, even in small ways, with tamaki. it was the best way to make sure he knew you were still there for him and thinking about him, even as you conversed with the others.

over time, your small touches turned into something else. clasping his hand turned into rubbing his thigh, slight pokes turned into tracing soft circles on his bicep. the little things meant the world to this man, so you knew he was getting your idea.

about 3 hours in, tamaki’s social battery had been completely sucked dry. he gave you a special look and squeezed your hand twice to let you know he wanted to go, a signal the both of you had come up with.

you cleaned up your area at the table, stacking your used dishes neatly for a waiter/waitress to pick up with ease, and stood up. you patted yourself down as your lover stood up, and you all exchanged goodbyes as the both of you walked out, your arm wrapped around his.

the both of you walked out to the car, and tamaki slid his hand down to your waist and pulled you closer. you were stunned, he rarely initiates things, especially in public.

“tama” you cooed in his ear.

tamaki led you to the backseat of the car, opened the door for you, and sat next to you. he kept the door slightly ajar for what he would call “ventilation” when you questioned him later.

you kissed him first, a small but sweet kiss. your partner, however, kissed you again. longer, deeper. he grabbed you and held you close to him, and he leaned against the back of the seat. he began to unzip his pants when you stopped him.

“are you sure, baby?” you asked, knowing his fear of having all eyes on him.

“yes, i love you too much, please.” he replied, asking you to please continue.

you nodded at him, and got on top of him. you gave him kisses on his neck and bit him softly as you pulled down his pants to let his cock spring out.

you flipped up the dress he bought you special for this event, and moved your underwear to the side. tamaki brought his hand down to rub small circles on your clit, getting you wet for him.

you softly pushed his hand away, then brought yourself up, then down onto his dick. he let out a small whimper and you shushed him, “shh, baby, we don’t want anyone to see, do we?”

tamaki swallowed thickly, and stuttered out, “n-no”

“maybe you’d like that, dirty boy.” you teased, and he whined in response.

you bounced up and down softly on him, the friction of the base of his cock teasing your clit.

then, suddenly, you heard voices outside, a mere 10-15 ft away.

“oh, hey, someone’s car door is open. should we close it?” said one of the voices.

tamaki’s eyes widened, but he never stopped bucking up into you, and you never stopped riding him. he whimpered quietly, and you put your thumb in his mouth to silence him.

“nah, let’s just leave it. someone might be coming back to it in just a minute.” said another voice.

the both of you heard their footsteps trail away, and you looked at each other. tamaki leaned up to kiss you, and you could tell he was getting close. he was rutting into you from below, and it made you giggle.

“don’t cum until i say, tama!” you reprimanded.

he nodded quickly, confirming his submission.

you were also getting close, and tamaki always knew that you should cum first. you slammed down onto him harder, making his tip kiss your cervix every time. his cock was rubbing against a sweet spot inside you the deeper you went, and you came with a moan of his name.

as you were going through the aftershocks of your orgasm, tamaki began to beg.

“please, can i cum? please.” he whimpered out, his legs shaking slightly.

you kissed his forehead and gave him permission, and his cock twitched as he finally let go of the orgasm he had been holding. his cum warmed your insides and gave you an extra, satisfying feeling as it began to leak down.

“i’ll drive us back home, sweetheart, you rest. i know you’re tired” you told him as you slowly got up, grabbing a blanket that rested in the back pocket of the car seat, special for any sleepy car rides.

you laid tamaki down in the backseat and covered him in the fluffy blanket. you adjusted his pants and his underwear to make him as comfortable as possible.

you got out, adjusted your dress, and closed the car door. you got into the front seat and turned the car on and the heating up so your partner would be cozy on the ride home.

~

[corroded-hellfire]

Like it’s 1999 - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

Collaboration with the peanut butter to my jelly @munson-blurbs ✨

Summary: Your first New Year’s Eve as Eddie’s girl comes with meeting all his old friends at the Harrington’s party. It turns out to be great fun, but losing track of time leads you to miss out on something you’ve been looking forward to.

Note: Wishing a Happy New Year to all of you lovelies!

Warnings: older!eddie, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, talk about shitty parents (gee, I wonder who)

Words: 4.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Walking up to the Harrington house shouldn’t be as daunting as it feels right now. You work here three days a week, bringing Ryan and Luke over to babysit the Munson and Harrington clans together. But you’re not coming here to work today; you’re coming for the New Year’s Eve party Steve and Nancy are throwing. 

The house is now filled with friends and family of the Harrington’s, most of whom you haven’t met. And of the ones you have met, it’s only been a handful of times or in passing since you started babysitting for the Munsons. You’ve been lucky enough to become acquainted with Steve and Nancy over the past months and feel honored enough to call them not just your boyfriend’s friends, but your friends now as well. Max and Lucas will be here and the handful of times you’ve met them have been nice. You’ve had entertaining conversations with Max and even got to spend time with their daughter Tiffany a few times. 

Dustin is another of Eddie’s friends who you’ve seen here and there, but never for long periods of time since he lives too far away to visit regularly. He’s bringing his new girlfriend, Jennifer, tonight, who Eddie has said is great, but this is the first time you’ll be meeting her. And she is just the first one on the list of people you’ll be meeting tonight for the first time. 

Nancy’s little brother Mike and his wife El will be here tonight and you’re just hoping that Mike is as easy to talk to as his sister is. A high school friend named Will is bringing his boyfriend named Cody, but you at least are in the same boat with Eddie on this one because he hasn’t met Cody yet either. And then there’s Robin and Vickie, who you’ve been told have been together since high school. Luckily, Eddie has assured you that Robin can do enough talking for the both of you, so not to worry about any awkward conversations—well, ones with awkward silences, anyway. 

Your slightly uncomfortable, yet enviably cute shoes click as you come to a stop in front of the Harrington’s door. Eddie’s hand squeezes yours and the feeling of his larger hand holding yours so safely has some of your anxiety abating. Eddie had known the moment you two had received the invitation that you would be nervous about this. He left the choice up to you if you wanted to attend or not. Being with Eddie meant getting to know those who are important to him, though. A little discomfort is nothing when you think about it like that.

“We can go, sweetheart,” Eddie tells you now that you’re at the literal threshold of the party. “We don’t have to do this.”

You don’t have to do this is what you know he means. 

With as much fake courage as you can muster, you shake your head and give Eddie the best smile you can manage. “I want to.”

And you do. It’s certainly better than the party your friends from school invited you to tonight. Being in a crowded and smoky bar where you can barely hear yourself think is not your idea of fun. It’s really just an excuse to find someone to kiss at midnight, then take home for some fun for the next few hours until someone gets kicked out and is forced to do the walk of shame. Not something you’d ever been interested in, really. Besides, why be there when you can be with Eddie? 

Your boyfriend knocks on the door and a few moments later a grinning Steve opens it, sporting a pair of novelty “2000” eyeglasses, his hazel brown eyes peering out from the second and third zeroes. There’s music coming from the living room, and you can smell the different hors d'oeuvres that must be set out around the party area. Conversations and laughter float down to the door as well and the prospect of joining in on that makes your tummy do a little flip. 

“Hey, Munson! Lady Munson! Come on in.” Steve’s clearly already gotten into the alcohol. 

Eddie ushers you into the house before him and helps you out of your jacket. Steve takes both of your coats and hangs them in the closet near the front door. The host leads you further into the house and to the room where adults are milling about, glasses of different colored liquor in most hands, and smiles on almost every face. Stepping into this room without any of the children feels odd. This is where you usually wait with the younger ones while the big kids finish up their homework. Part of you wishes the kids were there because they’re always good to use as a bit of a buffer if you need one in social situations. 

Tonight, all Munson and Harrington children are having sleepovers at a grandparent’s house. The Harrington girls are staying with Nancy’s parents, while the boys are with Steve’s. Ryan and Luke are spending the night at Wayne’s, as it’s one of his few precious nights off. 

“You don’t mind that your New Year’s Eve plans are watching the boys?” Eddie had asked.

“Plans? Only plan I have is to take advantage of the night off and get as much sleep as I can.”

“Eddie and the lovely lady that is far too good for him have arrived,” Steve announces to the room. Your cheeks heat up at Steve’s words, but Eddie just rolls his eyes and pushes his friend out of his way. 

It feels like every eye in the room lands on you and it’s making your nerves creep back up. Not everyone is looking at you, you try to assure yourself, but the jitters have settled in and have you feeling self-conscious. What if they don’t like me? you think. These people are practically Eddie’s family. I need them to like me. They’re going to think I’m not good enough. That I’m too young. Too stupid. That I’m just some young girl Eddie decided to have a fun fling with after getting divorced—

Max comes over to your side and it shakes you out of your spiraling thoughts. 

“Hey!” The redhead greets. “It’s so nice to see you again.” She pulls you in for a hug that has your anxious thoughts starting to abate. 

“You too!” you say. “How’s Tiffany?” Can't seem to stop talking about the kids, can you?

“She’s great. Talking and walking now, so a complete handful. Oh!” Max catches the attention of a woman about her height with chin length brown hair who stops and smiles at you. “Have you met El?”

“Nice to meet you.” El timidly but kindly extends her hand and you shake it, beginning an evening of greeting new and familiar faces. 

By the end of your first lap of talking with everyone, you’re pretty sure you remember everyone’s name, but not necessarily how they all relate to one another—-except Mike. The way he and Nancy bicker at one another occasionally keeps it fresh in your mind that he’s her little brother. Not to mention, the drunker Steve gets, the more he begs Mike to call him ‘big bro.’

“You know,” Robin says, nudging Eddie’s arm with her own, “I don’t think we’ve all been together for New Year’s Eve since ‘92.”

Eddie thinks for a moment, rubbing a hand over his mouth and chin. “God,” he says with a laugh. “That was before Luke.”

“And Corroded Coffin performed!” Dustin adds, flashing a smile that seems to be missing a few teeth. 

“You ever see your boyfriend being a rockstar?” Lucas asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

That certainly piques your interest. “I have not.” You turn to Eddie with a giddy smile on your face. 

Sheepishness pinkens Eddie’s cheeks. “I wasn’t a rockstar,” he mumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Max almost chokes on her vodka cranberry and lets out a scoff. “Since when are you modest?” she asks with a cocked brow.  

Eddie narrows his eyes at Max and opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt first. “Eddie, shhh, I wanna hear about my rockstar boyfriend!” you tease. “Did you have lots of groupies?”

He groans but drapes his arm over your shoulders as his friends begin to tell you about the band.  

“I don’t even like metal, but they were good,�� Robin pipes up from where she’s pouring herself another drink.

“They were weekly regulars at this bar,” Dustin explains. “They would sneak us in because we were too young to get into the bar.”

“Actually,” Max says, turning to Eddie, “so were you.”

Eddie shrugs. “I never questioned it.”

“Anyway,” Dustin continues, practically shaking with excitement, “they could play any metal song you could think of. He learned Master of Puppets in a week, and that song is like twelve minutes long.”

“It’s only eight,” Eddie protests, but his friend ignores him completely. 

“Whatever. The point is, Corroded Coffin was probably the best band this town has ever seen, and it’s all because of Eddie.” He nudges him with an elbow to the ribs. “Hey, do the move!”

Eddie coughs, face fully red. “Henderson, I don’t know what you’re—”

“Yes, you do, because you’re totally blushing right now.” Dustin cackles, turning to you. “It was like this hip thrust thing, but to his guitar—”

“Okay, enough!” Eddie’s face is beet-red, burying his head in his hands. Dustin starts in again, but a glass drops in the kitchen, drawing everyone’s attention. 

“Eddie Munson,” you murmur in his ear, taking advantage of this moment alone, “did you go on stage and hump your poor guitar?” Before he can respond, you tug him by his belt loop. “Can I get a private show later?”

He smirks. “Only for you, baby girl.” 

As it typically goes at parties, people mingle around, always popping in and out of different conversations throughout the evening. You and Max sit on a loveseat off to the side of the room, watching Steve, Eddie, Lucas, and Will take shots. The pair of you shake your heads as you observe the men, watching in amusement as Will tries to pour more shots for everyone, no matter how much they decline. 

Max isn’t quite drunk but is definitely past tipsy.

“How are you feeling hanging around with this ragtag bunch of weirdos?” she asks once the entertainment of watching the men has worn off. 

You chuckle and shake your head. “It’s not as scary as I thought it would be, honestly. And I definitely wouldn’t call you guys weirdos.”

Max pauses, biting her cheek. “It’s really nice to see Eddie with someone who actually appreciates him. Who genuinely loves him, y’know.” She lowers her voice. “I’m not trying to turn this into a bitching session about his ex, but—”

“I am!” More than a few drinks in, Nancy slings one arm over your shoulder and the other around Max’s. The scent of vodka wafts from her mouth. “God, she was the worst! I don’t even know what he saw in her.” She wrinkles her nose. “She wasn’t even that pretty. Like, yeah, maybe a little bit, but not enough to make up for being a total hag!” She cackles like it’s the funniest joke in the world. 

Your mind flashes back to how beautiful Brittany actually is, but Nancy’s true drunk feelings warm your heart.

“Yeah, she’s definitely a piece of work,” you say with a humorless chuckle.

“Oh honey,” Max says, “we all know that’s the understatement of the century. She’s a grade A bitch and any time you want to shit talk her, you’ve got a house full of people here ready to chime in.”

“Really?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. “Everyone here hates her?”

“Well, I’m not sure if Cody or Jennifer ever met her, but everyone else, yeah,” Max says with a shrug.

A warmth blooms in your chest. Even though you know Brittany is horrific, and Eddie knows it as well, it’s different to hear it from an outside source. His friends could see the relationship from another perspective, and it seems they came to the same conclusion: Brittany is a spawn of satan. It’s validating and it also makes everyone’s kindness tonight mean that much more to you. 

“One time,” Nancy slurs as she perches herself on the arm of the loveseat, “the four of them were gonna drive to Lake Michigan for a long weekend. Luke was only like…I dunno, maybe 18 months? Anyways, poor little thing had a cough, so Brittany took him to the doctor. She comes home and tells Eddie that Luke’s got the sniffles and they’re all good to go. Turns out, Luke had goddamn pneumonia, but she didn’t want it to ruin her getaway.”

The outrage that is coursing through your veins has you gripping your glass so tightly that you start to lose feeling in your hand.

“How have none of you killed her?” you ask, making sure to keep your voice even when you really want to scream.

“Cause that moron,” Max says, nodding across the room at Eddie, “hadn’t come to his senses yet. Or at least, hadn’t let us know that he had.”

“Thank God he found you,” Nancy says. “For him and the boys.”

“I thank God I found them,” you say, the alcohol you’ve had making you a little more sentimental than usual. Though it’s something you always feel, it’s not something you’d always say out loud to people that aren’t Eddie. 

Across the house, the guys are having their own little meeting. Steve leans against the counter in an attempt to look mysterious and suave, but his swaying gait gives away his inebriated state. 

“Munson, could you stop staring at your girlfriend for two seconds and help me with this tray?” he asks, fumbling with a platter of cheese cubes and crackers. 

“Huh? What?” Eddie stutters, Steve’s words registering after a beat. Heat creeps up the back of his neck: caught red-handed. 

Will slings his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, pulling him close enough that Eddie can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Aww, you found your Cody!” Will coos. 

Eddie’s nose scrunches in confusion. “I’m not following, Byers.”

Will rolls his eyes as though this is obvious information that Eddie should already know. “You found someone who makes you feel happy and warm and loved. Someone you wanna marry someday.” He waggles his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, okay.” Eddie tries to play it cool; inside, butterflies flutter in his stomach. Marrying you? Sounds like a dream, one that he’s not sure will ever come to fruition. 

Will is undeterred by Eddie’s sudden shyness, doubling down on his statement. “Hey, listen,” he drunkenly slurs, “I don’t need to be into women to know that she,” he points to you, “is a total upgrade from, well,” he lowers his voice, “y’know.”

Dustin swoops in, sensing that the conversation might nosedive from playful banter to pure discomfort. “Okay, let’s get you some water.” He leads Will away, shushing him as they walk. 

Eddie takes a swig of beer, grateful that the interrogation is over, but then Steve gently adds, “Not to focus on the ex or anything, but you really do seem…I dunno, more like yourself lately. In a way that you didn’t with Brittany.”

“Is that a good thing?” He’d like to think so, but his insecurities often cloud his judgment like a dense fog. 

Steve laughs. “Despite my better judgment, yeah. It is.” He claps him on the back. “She’s a keeper, dude. Don’t fuck it up.”

Eddie chuckles and gives a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. “I’ll try not to.”

Both men look up as they hear footsteps approaching them. Eddie’s brow furrows in concern when he sees tears in your eyes as you walk up to him. He reaches out a hand and you place your smaller one in his.

“What’s got you all upset, Sweetheart?”

You’re too tipsy to properly articulate your emotions after talking with Max and Nancy about how lucky the two of you are to have found each other, so you just murmur, “you.”

Steve laughs and scratches the back of his head. “Guess I spoke too soon.”

You let your hand fall from Eddie’s so you can snake your arms around his middle. Letting your eyes fall closed, you rest your head against your boyfriend’s chest.

“I love you so much,” you mumble.

“I love you too, princess,” Eddie says against your hair before pressing a few kisses there.

Steve can’t help but smile at the interaction between the two of you. It’s so nice to see his best friend in a relationship where he’s appreciated and loved for who he is. The way you both look at one another leaves Steve with no doubt about how happy you make each other. Wanting to give the two of you your privacy, Steve quietly slips away. 

Joy buzzes in your stomach, only amplified by the alcohol in your system. You lift your head from Eddie’s chest and lean up to press your lips against his. The kiss is soft and sweet, with no urgency. When the two of you finally part, your boyfriend chuckles and licks over his lips.

“Had vodka, huh?” he asks.

“Do I taste like it?” You giggle. “You taste like beer. And a little like rum.”

“That’s ‘cause I had a shot of rum and have been nursing my beer for an hour,” he says, fingers tracing patterns over the soft fabric of your sweater covering your back. 

“‘N you’re not drunk,” you state.

“I’ve got a pretty high tolerance, baby. Plus, need to be able to drive us home later. Got some precious cargo right here,” he says as he pulls your body up against his. “Are you having fun?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, grinning as you think about the good time you’re having with Eddie’s old friends. “I like your friends. Will’s funny.”

“Will is plastered,” Eddie says with a chuckle. 

Before you get a chance to respond, Robin is tugging on your arm and whining about how you can kiss Eddie anytime. Eddie reluctantly lets you go, playfully rolling his eyes as you’re pulled away. It makes you giggle before taking control of your own feet again and following Robin toward an empty spot on a couch.

Robin asks you about school, how you like it, what classes you’re taking next semester, and what you’re studying. At first, it seems like these are generic questions that someone asks of a college student, which confuses you because you’d thought you and Robin would be past that stage by now. But as she keeps talking, Robin reveals that she’s been thinking about going back to school and wants to know more about what it's like. Once you know that, you’re able to give her more detailed information about what it's like on campus rather than give the stilted, robotic answers you tend to give when asked the basic questions. 

Vickie slips into your conversation at some point, followed by Mike, Dustin, and Jennifer. Your drink keeps getting refilled to where you’re not sure how much you’ve had to drink by the time the conversation peters out. The only thought that can get any traction in your brain is how badly you need to use the bathroom after drinking so much.

You excuse yourself from the group and make your way towards the hallway where the kids’ rooms are. This area of the house is as familiar to you as the back of your hand from working here so much, which is a good thing as you stagger with next to no coordination. Once the bathroom door is shut behind you, it takes all of your concentration to focus on what you have to do. That leaves no brain power to pick up on the cheering that’s coming from out in the living room. 

Out amongst his friends, Eddie’s asking where you are, and Vickie is the one to tell him that she saw you headed towards the bathroom. Eddie thanks her and heads towards the back of the house, eager to get to you as the time until midnight shrinks by the second. Your boyfriend turns the corner and is about to knock on the bathroom door when he sees that it’s wide open. He pokes his head inside and it looks like the room hasn’t been touched the whole evening. Realization hitting him, Eddie groans and rubs a hand over his face.

“God damn it, Harrington. Why is your house so big?”

He makes his way back towards the front of the house, figuring out that you must be using the bathroom in the front hallway, the one you’d be most likely to use when you’re here watching the kids. The buzzing house makes it difficult for Eddie to navigate his way to you as quickly as he wants, knowing how upset you’ll be if you miss your midnight kiss. Eddie swears under his breath as he looks down at his watch and it tells him it’s 12:01. Finally arriving at the right bathroom, he knocks on the door.

It swings inward and you step out, grinning when you see Eddie there.

“Hi!”

Even in his frustration, Eddie can’t help but smile at your excitement at seeing him—alcohol-fueled or not.

“Sweetheart,” he starts, taking your hand and pulling you close to his chest. “It’s after midnight.”

“No, it’s not,” you say with a shake of your head. “Cause at midnight we gotta kiss.”

“We missed it, princess,” he tells you, keeping his voice soft.

It takes your brain longer than normal to process his words, but once it does, a frown pulls at your mouth and your eyes get wide. Eddie shouldn’t think it’s as adorable as he does.

“It’s my fault,” you say. “I-I was in the bathroom. I didn’t know what time it was!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Eddie says, wrapping both of his arms around you. He rubs his hand up and down your back, soothingly. “It’s not your fault. “I tried to come get you and I was late, too.”

“We missed our first New Year’s Eve kiss.” With a whine, you bury your face in Eddie’s chest as tears begin to fall. Strong arms hold you tightly and the weight of Eddie’s head rests against the top of your own.

“Do you want to go back out to the party?” Eddie asks after a few minutes of just holding you.

Sniffling, you shake your head.

“M’sorry, Eddie.”

“Hey.” Eddie cups your face in his hands and tilts your head up. “You have nothing to be sorry about. You and I are going to have New Year’s kisses together for the rest of our lives. And I plan on kissing you every day for the rest of forever, even after we’re dead.” Eddie feels the tightness in his chest lessen as you let out a small giggle at his joke. “So, one late kiss is nothing, sweetheart.” He leans in and presses his lips gently against yours, trying to convey the love and adoration he has for you as he cradles your face. When you pull back, Eddie raises his eyebrows at you in question—did that help?

Much to Eddie’s relief, you nod and wipe your eyes. They’re still sore and puffy, but that will fade. Plus, that’s easy to blame on alcohol consumption. 

“Do you want to go home?” Eddie asks.

You shake your head.

“We can stay a little longer,” you say.

“We don’t have to.”

“Wanna have more fun with you.”

That has a small smile growing on your boyfriend’s face.

“I like the sound of that.”

The party winds down now that midnight has passed, and you and Eddie stay for a little while longer. As guests start to leave, you find yourself mingling with everyone and sharing last laughs with his old friends. Eventually, you and Eddie bid those who haven’t left yet goodnight and head back to his apartment. 

By the time you arrive home, it’s almost one in the morning. Eddie tosses his keys down on the counter while you shuffle into the kitchen for a glass of water. Sleepily, Eddie follows in behind you but perks up with a smile when he glances at the clock.

“Hey, princess?”

“Hmm?”

“C’mere.”

Body just going through the motions in your tired state, you put the glass down and Eddie tugs you up against his body.

“It’s almost one,” he whispers.

“Okay,” you say, though it sounds more like a question.

“It’s about to be the New Year in the next time zone. So, if we kiss at one, I think that counts as a New Year’s kiss. Don’t you?”

Understanding fights its way through your hazy brain until it clicks. A small smile lights up your face as you nod.

“That sounds like a good plan to me.”

Eddie turns his head to look at the clock on the wall, the second hand racing around towards the nine. Your eyes track the ticking of the thin black line as well, holding your breath as you wait for the hour to strike.

Just as the second hand lands on the twelve, Eddie tilts your chin up and catches your lips with his own. A warm and fuzzy feeling that has nothing to do with your drinking envelops your body as you wrap your arms around his neck. Eddie’s hands rest firmly on your waist, holding onto you as if his life depended on it.

When you part, you rest your foreheads against one another’s. The small, dark apartment shrouds the two of you in shadow, only a sliver of the moon shining in the window giving you enough light to see each other by. The night is quiet around you, no movement breaking the peace as you and Eddie simply gaze into one another’s eyes.

“Happy New Year’s, baby.”

[lance-space-mommy]

I’ll Pass

Midoriya was a gem at UA High. No one really knew anything about the mysterious beauty that was best friends with Hatsume in the support department. Still, that never stopped people from blindly pursuing the teen. People were so ashamed when Midoriya rejected them that no one ever told their friends when they planned on confessing.

Countless people have been spotted slipping notes and talking with Midoriya in a quiet area. For some reason, it’s like an unspoken rule that being rejected by Midoriya is so humiliating that if anyone knew about it, it could send a person into a coma.

Class 1-A eventually caught drift of the mysterious beauty who was in the support department. Fortunately for them, they were given an opportunity to approach him without looking too weird. Aizawa, too lazy to deal with it himself, told his students to head to the department to discuss any modifications they needed for their hero costumes. For once, none of the students complained about his laziness.

“Oh, I’m so excited,” beamed Uraraka, happy to finally meet the boy who has the attention of the school.

“Me too. I think this will be a wonderful experience to get closer to the support department,” agreed Iida, unaware Uraraka was talking about meeting Midoriya.

Kirishima waved his hand with a smile. “I just want to meet this dude everyone seems to have a crush on!”

“Agreed dude! I feel like everyone in this school has tried to shoot their shot at Midoriya!” supported Kaminari, throwing his arms to the sky.

Mina looked over at Kirishima and Kaminari with an excited grin. “I bet he’s super sweet! That would explain why I haven’t heard anything bad about him!”

Uraraka nodded vigorously, clasping her hands behind her back. “It would be great to make another friend. I just hope he doesn’t blow us up like Hatsume does,” shivered Uraraka at all the memories of Hatsume’s gadgets exploding when she was around.

Bakugo rolled his eyes at his classmates. At the end of the day, they were a bunch of overly friendly idiots. Still, he was a bit curious to see Midoriya. Since he started UA High, he’d constantly heard about Midoriya, but never saw him

A part of Bakugo was left wondering how Midoriya felt. It must have been a jarring experience to go from being the laughingstock of Aldera Junior High to being the unachievable jewel of UA High. He knew that if he had been in Midoriya’s shoes, he’d kill anyone who asked him out. They were here to become heroes, not worry about pointless things like dating.

Taking the lead, Iida walked into the room. Hatsume happened to have a crush on Iida, so he was the best person to enter first. It seemed that Uraraka had already sacrificed Iida even if he hadn’t been willing.

“Iida!” cheered Hatsume, rushing over.

“Hello, Hatsume. I’m assuming Eraserhead has told you about us coming,” greeted Iida, bowing his head as he stepped in to let his classmates also enter.

Hatsume nodded with a bright grin. “Yeah, I got all hands on deck for class 1-A.”

Midoriya made his way over with a clipboard to where the class was waiting. “Mei, I finished up the blueprints to match your detailing.”

Hatsume grabbed the clipboard eagerly, flipping the pages. “Amazing work Izuku!” Seeming to realize that Midoriya hadn’t really interacted with the hero students in person, she started introductions. “Iida, have you met Midoriya yet?”

Iida was stunned, staring at Midoriya. He completely understood why everyone asked him out. Midoriya was gorgeous despite being arguably plain.

Short, but fluffy green curls with a mixture of black covered his head. His bangs were short and he had strips of hair by his cheeks that curled oh so perfectly. His eyelashes were long and helped shape his big round eyes. His cheeks were coated in freckles with four dark ones in the middle of both cheeks.

“No, I haven’t. It’s a pleasure to meet you Midoriya. I appreciate you putting up with us all year,” thanked Iida, bowing his head to show utmost respect. After all, the only reason they could be heroes is because of those in the support department.

Midoriya smiled charmingly at Iida before waving his hand. “No need to thank me. You hero students deserve the best gear so it’s our fault if it can’t handle the amount of work you’re required to put in.”

Iida grinned, feeling a bit relieved to hear they weren’t being blamed for damaging their gear. They were often reprimanded by their teachers for being reckless even though damage to their costumes should be expected. Nonetheless, Iida commented, “I never thought of it that way.”

“Well, start thinking of it that way now! It’s wonderful meeting you, Iida. I hope you see you around here more often,” chuckled Midoriya, happy to meet someone who wasn’t just interested in dating him. Besides, it was clear he liked Hatsume so he had nothing to worry about.

After introductions were carried out, Kirishima and Bakugo were assigned to Midoriya to gear repairs and upgrades. Uraraka and Mina shook their fist to the sky and cursed Kirishima and Bakugo. How come the good things in life never happened to them?

As Midoriya guided them to his workstation, they finally were able to get a good look at Midoriya. To the surprise of both Bakugo and Kirishima, Midoriya was muscular.

They assumed he was matching Hatume as he was wearing a black tank top. It showed off his developed arms and the outline of his abs could be seen because of the tight fabric. Anything lower was hidden by the baggy uniform. Midoriya had an All Might charm clipped onto one of the belt loops on his waist.

A pretty, red headband was tied loosely around Midoriya’s neck. Bakugo assumed it was to cover his nose and mouth when messing with the equipment. Kirishima on the other hand believed it was purely cosmetic. Midoriya seemed like the type of person to want to work in style.

Wanting to break the ice, Kirishima decided to use the only piece of information he knew about Midoriya. “Is it true you get asked out at least once a day?”

Not missing a beat, Midoriya smiled as he answered, “Not really, no,” as he pulled out his files on class 1-A’s hero suits.

“Wait, guys don’t ask you out?” asked Kirishima with wide eyes, feeling a bit betrayed by everyone who told him about the rumor. It wasn’t that he thought Midoriya was a disappointment after being told he wasn’t heavily sought after, but it seemed that everyone was in on a joke Midoriya wasn’t a part of.

A couple of seconds of painful silence passed. Midoriya licked his finger to begin flipping through the pages before smirking. Slowly raising his head to look at Kirishima, Midoriya clarified, “They do, I just don’t go.

The way those words effortlessly came out of Midoriya’s mouth with such confidence was perfect. Kirishima felt his face heat up and he quickly covered his face with both hands. “You are way too cool.”

While Kirishima was having the time of his life, Bakugo was watching in silence. It was nice to watch Midoriya being his true self without having to worry about being ridiculed. Besides, this was Midoriya’s territory and Bakugo refused to make the same mistake as he did in the past.

Choosing to keep his head down and mouth shut, Bakugo hoped Midoriya would continue to talk casually with Kirishima. He took it upon himself to distance himself from Midoriya, not wanting to bother him any more than he most likely already was.

“Thank you,” chuckled Midoriya as he found the sections about Bakugo and Kirishima in his files. What Midoriya was not about to tell the duo was that he’d already had this conversation a dozen times with all the people who tried flirting with him.

It was quiet for a moment. Kirishima was curious about who Midoriya was as a person, and it seemed that he had one question that would help him know what Midoriya valued. “Is there a reason why you haven’t accepted anyone's confession?”

Midoriya shrugged, putting the book down to look at Kirishima. “Not really. At first, I just wasn’t interested in the people that confessed and I wasn’t ready for a relationship. Now… I can’t trust that the person confessing wants to be with me or if they just want to see if they’ll be the lucky one who is picked.”

Sorrow overcame Kirishima, and he could not stop the frown from spreading on his face. He didn’t realize just how much this situation sucked for Midoriya. It never crossed his mind how Midoriya couldn’t trust that anyone truly loved him because asking out the mysterious support student became a trend.

“That sucks dude,” sighed Kirishima, rubbing his face.

Bakugo rolled his eyes. “Of course, all those stupid extras think it’s funny to play with someone’s feelings.”

“For real! It’s a shame,” agreed Kirishima, not noticing how Midoriya’s head shot up in Bakugo’s direction.

“You really shouldn’t call everyone extras, Kacchan. It leaves a bad impression,” teased Midoriya as he focused all his attention on Bakugo.

“Fuck that shit. I swear this entire school has always been testing our class’s patience, so I have no sympathy to spare. Now they’re treating you as a trophy which is fucking gross,” hissed Bakugo, crossing his arms as he let his overprotective side show shamelessly.

Midoriya let his smug grin slowly soften into a shy smile. He enjoyed having people stand up for him. While he enjoys the attention it brings him, he wishes the attention wasn’t simply objectifying him. He was more than a pretty face and a thing to win.

Kirishima’s jaw dropped. “Bakugo? You know Midoriya?”

Bakugo looked away from Midoriya and scoffed, “I’ve known this nerd since we were little brats.”

“Yeah, we just fell out of touch in middle school,” recalled Midoriya, trying to keep Bakugo from being a target of unwanted attention.

“That’s awesome! If you’ve survived knowing Bakugo this long, feel free to hang out with our class!” cheered Kirishima, ignoring the hissing of Bakugo’s quirk.

Midoriya was glowing as he accepted the offer. “That would be amazing! You all were awesome at the Sports Festival.”

As Midoriya turned all his attention to the suits, Bakugo felt comfortable enough to ask, “So, you still do all that analysis in your notebook?”

“Yeah!” answered Midoriya quickly, not bothering to look up from his stack of papers.

“Join one of our quirk training classes. You’ll be taking notes for the next week,” offered Bakugo, knowing his peers would appreciate a description of their quirk and ways to utilize and improve it.

Not only did Bakugo and Kirishima leave that room with the best model of their hero costume yet, but they also left with a new ally. They achieved becoming friends with the UA heartthrob and confirmed that he was a stunning and smart person.

It was safe to say class 1-A took Midoriya under their wing after he started hanging out with them. It also became a secret bet to see who Midoriya would end up dating. The highest bets were between Kirishima, Bakugo, and Todoroki.

Everyone lost. Midoriya ended up remaining single his entire time at UA High. He knew he was perfect and didn’t need anyone to prove it.

[urm0o0m]

"baby i'm yours"

Synopsis: You had just broken up with your boyfriend of 3 years. You decide to go to the bar and grab a drink. You decide for a split moment, that you’d find someone to hook up with someone before deciding that you shouldn't, when you run into your old crushes from high school (Gojo and Geto)

Content Warning: Praise, degradation, pet names, spitting, dacryphilia, friends to lovers, DP

You sit quietly at the bar, a glass of straight tequila on ice in front of you. You didn’t even drink like this. But hell, you fucking deserved it. You had just broken up with your ex boyfriend who was too controlling for your liking. You weren’t allowed to go out with your friends, you weren’t allowed to drink. You weren’t even allowed to wear the color red. You took a sip of the alcohol, the liquor burning as it goes down your throat. The music blaring in the bar, people shouting, singing and dancing.

You didn’t care for the atmosphere too much but just as you were about to leave, you felt someone tap your shoulder. “I’m not interested” You say, taking another sip of the drink. “Come on y/n~ Don’t be like that. We haven’t seen you since highschool” You turn around, looking at the men who had both grown taller than you last remembered. Suguru hits Satoru in the back of his head. “Sorry about him. We just wanted to catch up but if you want us to go, we totally can” You shake your head. “No, I'm sorry! I thought you were a random guy trying to hit on me”

Geto laughs. “Does this mean we can stay?” You nod, relaxing a little bit. You and both men begin talking and you reveal how you had just gotten out of a relationship. They both look at each other before Gojo speaks up. “Would you like us to go home with you?” Your face flushes, thankful that they couldn’t tell due to how dark it was in the club. “Straight to the point huh? I will say, Satoru was never one to beat around the bush” Suguru laughs. “Is that a yes?” You nod, paying for your drink and grabbing your purse. 

You walk out of the club, the cold air brushing against your skin and you curse at yourself for not bringing a sweater. Geto notices and takes his jacket off, slipping it over your shoulders. “T-thank you. You didn’t have to do that” Suguru leans close to your ear. “Well if all goes as planned, I should end up inside of you tonight. This is the least I can do” Your face flushes and you swallow. You had taken a cab to the club but the men had driven there and offered you a ride to your place. You give Geto your address and you and Gojo sit in the back seat.

Satoru pulls you into his lap, having you straddle him as his hands rest firm on your waist. You look down at him, your breathing shallow. He pulls you in for a kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth. Gojo breaks the kiss, licking his lips before saying “Suguru you have got to taste her lip gloss” You giggle. “You’ve kissed it all off of my lips” Geto groans. “I can’t have anything huh?” “I have some more in my bag” You say, pulling the small plastic vial, re-applying some more. You poke your head into the front of the car, making sure there are no cars and pulling Geto’s jaw and kissing him, allowing your hand to squeeze his crotch. The car swerves a bit and you break the kiss, returning to the backseat, planting your ass on the white haired male. 

“Fuck Doll. What if we would have crashed?” Geto says. “I don’t think like that. I’m quite the optimist” Suguru shakes his head and laughs. “You’ve grown in the boldness department since the last time I’ve seen you. I remember graduation. You were still just as time and shy as you were when we met in freshman year. Now here you are, practically begging for me to pull the car over and fuck you senseless on the side of the road” Your face heats up and you begin fidgeting a little. “Oh don’t get all shy now, pretty girl. What happened to that daring personality?” Satoru asks, his hands snaking up your shirt and squeezing your chest through your bra. You let out a soft moan, and gripped the sleeve of his black button down. 

“Come on pretty girl, use your big girl words and answer my question~” You swallow, opening your mouth when his right hand slips into the waistband of your skirt and panties while his left hand slips two fingers inside of your mouth. You begin to eagerly suck on Satoru’s fingers, rocking your hips back and forth against his nimble fingers. You let out a soft groan as you keep eye contact for a minute with Geto through the rearview mirror. The car speeds up and you find your eyes rolling back briefly. Your ex hadn’t touched you for months before you two broke up so you were hungry for another person’s touch. You throw your head back, resting on his shoulder, your breathing growing heavy.

“Toru~” You whine out, drool running down your chin. “There's that sweet nickname! Oh how I missed that sound of it falling from your lips” Gojo says, his fingers beginning to move in a circle around your swollen clit. Suguru watched this taboo scene unfold in the backseat as he drove. He tried to keep his focus on the road but your soft moans kept begging for his attention. Geto groans, his dick practically bursting at the seams from how badly he wanted you. You began to hump Satoru’s hand, his middle and ring fingers begging to slip inside your wet cunt and the palm of his hand pressed into your clit. 

You let out a loud moan, feeling that beloved orgasm building up in your gut. “Already?” Suguru asks, as he pulls up to your apartment building. “M gonna cum!” You say, eyes watering. “Go ahead. Cum on his fingers pretty girl” You whimper, your hips rocking back and forth as the knot in your stomach grows tighter. You moan, back arching off of Gojo’s chest. Your body begins convulsing and your hand grips Satoru’s arm, your fingernails leaving small crescent shapes in his forearm. You scream out in pleasure, your orgasm hitting you hard. You close your mouth around Gojo’s fingers, trying to keep quiet but God knows it’s hardly working.

Satoru keeps working his fingers in and out of you, helping you ride out your orgasm. Your body writhes in pleasure before going limp, breathing heavily against Gojo’s fingers that were still inside of your mouth. Suguru chuckles before saying “You look so fucking pretty when you cum, Love” You giggle softly, and Geto gets out of the drivers seat before picking you up out of Satoru’s lap. You fish your keys out of your purse as the three of you make your way to the top floor of the penthouse. You hand Gojo your keys and he opens the front door. You begin to place wet and sloppy kisses along Geto’s jaw and you can feel it tighten as he quickly makes his way into your bedroom.

Suguru places you on the bed. “Clothes. Off” You do as he says, his demanding voice sends even more arousal straight to your pussy. You decide to take your time, teasing both men that stood at the foot of your bed, both of their cocks begging to be released from their pants. “If I were you, I’d hurry up. Suguru isn’t the most-” You let out a soft yelp as Geto reaches for you and rips your shirt and skirt off. “...patient man,” Satoru finishes. Suguru peels your panties off of your sex, revealing your wet cunt for both men to see. Geto groans before saying “You’ve matured a lot n/n” He lets out another groan before placing hungry kisses against your clit.

You let out a soft moan, still sensitive from your earlier orgasm in the car. “Sugu~” You whine before allowing your dominant hand to wander into his long, dark hair, tugging on it softly and pulling him closer to your clit. Gojo chuckles before stepping closer to you, his erection apparent and almost begging for attention. “Open” He demands you. You gladly open your mouth and Satoru slaps his tip on your tongue. You wrap your lips around the head of Satoru’s cock and he lets out a soft groan. “Just like that pretty girl” The white haired male says, his hand laying on the back of your head, helping you take him further into your mouth.

Geto huffs, pulling your legs over his shoulders before his pointer and middle finger slipping inside of your cunt. You let out a moan around Gojo’s cock, back arching slightly. You continue to let your tongue work the bottom of his cock as Suguru works your clit and g-spot. Your eyes begin to water as the tip of Gojo’s cock slips down your throat. You hold yourself in that position, nose just barely brushing his trimmed pubic hair before pulling yourself off of him. “Sugu… ’m gonna cum again!” You whine, trying to pull his face just a bit closer to your soaked core.

Your back arches fully, showing off your bare chest in the moonlight that seeped in from the open curtains. “You look fucking beautiful” Satoru says, taking out his phone and snapping a couple of pictures of the scene. The knot in your stomach had begun to unravel and your legs had started to shake. You throw your head back, allowing your orgasm to fully wash over you. Your cunt squeezes around his fingers and you squirt all over his tongue and fingers, drool slipping from your mouth. Your body relaxes for a moment, slightly convulsing as Geto continues to slowly curl his fingers inside your pussy.

Suguru crawls onto the bed and on top of you before pulling you in for a kiss. “You taste so fucking sweet, Doll” You smile against the kiss, your hands trailing up his body. “God you are fucking insatiable” Geto says. “Come on. You two can’t have all the fun now” Satoru says. Suguru climbs off of you before Gojo picks you up, and lays you on top of him. “You ready to take both of us, Pretty girl?” Your eyes widen before saying “W-wait at the same time?!” Geto chuckles “Yes at the same time lovely. I mean, you’re wet enough to take it with little to no difficulty because of how soaked you are”

You shudder when you feel both men’s tips poking at your entrance. They both begin pushing themselves inside of your cunt, stretching you wide enough to take them both. “Agh~ F-fuck you two are gonna tear me in half!” You shout, clearly a bit nervous. “You need to relax and let us inside or we might tear something down there” Suguru says as Satoru plants soft but sloppy kisses behind your ear and your jaw. You find yourself relaxing as the kisses become sloppier and they continue to push inside of you. You whimper, the feeling of you being filled with two cocks at the same time causes you to tighten up again.

Gojo groans, pulling you onto their cocks completely. Your body begins to shake, the pleasure ripping through your body. They both start with a slow pace, trying their hardest to keep themselves under control, but the heat of your bodies and your symphony of moans bouncing off of the walls, they couldn’t keep that pace for much longer. Your breath gets caught in your throat, your hands finding Geto’s back. The harder they pounded your cunt, the more you felt like you were in heaven. Suguru drank the sight of drool running down your chin and neck, eyes rolled back and arched back in as if he would die of thirst if he hadn’t.

Satoru’s dominant hand reached down and began to rub your clit, causing you to clench around them again, his other hand snaking itself around your throat, squeezing just enough to deprive you of enough oxygen. You let out a choked moan, tears beginning to fall down your face. Once Geto sees this, it’s like something within him snapped. He began to pick up his pace, wanting to see more of your tears and gojo followed suit, nearing his own release. Your body begins to shake and your nails begin scratching down Suguru’s back, ensuring to leave marks for the next couple of days.

“‘M gonna cum again” You manage to gasp out in the break Satoru had decided to give you. “Then do it. Cum all over our cocks like the slut we both know you are” You body begins convulsing, and you let out a loud scream and squirt all over the two of them as your orgasm washes over you. Gojo groans before saying “I’m gonna fill you all the way up and claim you as ours” You body continued to shake as both men relentlessly fucked into you, chasing their own highs. Both men groan and begins to pump you full of cum. “Such a good girl. Take it all Darling” Suguru says as you continue to claw down his back again, this time breaking skin.

Then for a moment, it’s quiet and everyone is basking in the afterglow of their orgasms, your body still shaking a bit from both your previous orgasms and the overstimulation. Geto groans, and they both pull out of you, a soft whimper leaving your lips. Suguru stretches before saying “Damn. You did a number on my back pretty girl” You half whine, half chuckle before saying “‘m sorry” Satoru laughs. “Let’s run you a bath and clean up this bed so you can get some rest. You’ve got to be worn out at this point” 

For the rest of the night, both men took care of you, being sure to shower you with praises and kisses.

[foreverdolly]

this is a self pitying post and i’ll probably delete it later- but when i’m sad i tend to write it out. i’ve used this blog like a diary of sorts for the last two and a half years. i’ve developed a relationship with a lot of you on here and i appreciate all the love i’ve received so far on my last post. my friends that i have in real life, no matter how long i’ve known them, don’t know too much about my upbringing or my parents. i hate the idea of trauma dumping- it’s uncomfortable for other people: so don’t read this if you don’t want to. i wouldn’t blame you.

my dad died from cirrhosis due to alcoholism. he died miserable and alone. he had no friends. his family was sick of him. i tried to call him as often as i could but sometimes he could be mean if he was drunk. i knew not to call him after 11:00 in the afternoon because he would start to drink. he lived in his youngest brother’s basement and almost never came upstairs because he was embarrassed. i haven’t seen him in three years because he lives fourteen hours from me, but i tried my hardest to call him every week and keep him involved in my life. he never saw any of my homes, never met any of my friends, and never even saw me drive a car (i’ve been licensed since i was eighteen). i cried to him almost every week, begging him to get sober.

he never recovered from my parent’s divorce, and for that i feel so sorry. he called my mother his soulmate and always spoke in past tense- talking about when me and my brother were little. he would tear up when talking about the first time he ever saw me in the hospital after my mother gave birth, and he was vocal about the fact that i was his favorite. we shared a lot of the the same interests and always had fun when talking.

when my mom made a suicide attempt two years ago he was there for me almost everyday, calling me despite the demons he was battling with himself.

the last time i spoke to him was thursday- a week from the day he died. he told me that he almost called a treatment facility but he got tired and took a nap instead. his doctors appointment was today at one and he was going to ask to be admitted and then go to a rehab facility. i told him i’d send him money while he was in there- he hasn’t been able to hold a job since i was still in high school.

my dad was a chef. a damn good cook- classically trained in french cooking. he had the loudest laugh i’ve ever heard, so much so that it used to make me cry when i was a baby. we used to wear matching costumes and he’d sign me out from school on halloween and call me out the day after. he took me to my first concert, but he couldn’t afford both the gas and the tickets (so i paid for the gas with my pocket change at the age of thirteen). he wore adidas strictly- shell toe was his favorite.

when i was little my dad was on night duty while my mom was away: tucking us in, reading us books. he refused to read to me and walked out the door but not before saying “bed bugs and stuff”. i thought it was so funny. it became our saying. every night we spent with each other we said “bed bugs and stuff”. so that was my last send off to him. i hope he’s finally resting well and isn’t depressed, ashamed or lonely anymore where he is.

he died in his sleep. they found a solo cup filled with vodka next to his bed and i can’t stop thinking about the fact that he was going to get help today. he was yellow due to jaundice. what a cruel world.

[psxchxxx]

✮⋆ ˚。𖦹 deep breaths and breaking tides 𖦹⋆。°✩

summary: in which the anemo archon’s feelings are worn on his sleeve, billowing in the wind for everyone to see, yet the subject of his desire is a dumb fuck.  notes: 800 words, hurt/comfort (??), venti overthinks things

The sky is overcast as Venti rushes down the street to your apartment, dodging people who are similarly in a hurry to escape the rain. Tucked under an arm is a bouquet, a white-and-green arrangement of freshly cut flowers and foliage. He shifts the flowers to his other arm, worried that he’s going to crush the lilies-of-the-valley spilling over the edges of the brown paper.

He’s finally reached your run down apartment building, but instead of heading toward the old elevators at the front, he nods at the bored landlord at the desk and shoulders his way into the dusty mail room.

There’s a small desk in the corner with some cheap stationary. He writes a short note to you:

Hey. How are you doing? I know you might not be feeling up to it, but I brought you a little something! Please call me once you see this. I miss you.

He hesitates. How should he sign off? Love, Venti was what he usually ended with, but for some reason it didn’t seem right in this case.

He sighs to himself and quickly scrawls a simple hyphen before his name, and then tucks the note into the bouquet before dropping it into the cubby labeled with your last name.

He lingers, his fingers tracing the cold metal lettering. Venti tries to think back to when he first met you.

Ever since you first entered his life, he’d forgotten what it had been like before. The countless high school projects, late-night calls to work on assignments (but more often, for prolonged gossip sessions), sleepovers, prom, and graduation. You’d been by his side the entire time, at arms length.

And now you weren’t.

He’d probably never tell you how he felt about you, but mainly because he didn’t want to change any part of the relationship he had with you. He’s completely content with just being your friend.

At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself, when he sits through your spiels about college crushes. But recently, doubts have been brewing in his mind.

The feeling of yearning wasn’t all together familiar, but not quite foreign either. He supposes he’s always felt something for you. He couldn’t define it- something more than a friendship, but also something more than a romantic relationship?

Venti shakes his head quickly, as if that will clear his head of the thoughts that have been plaguing his mind for oh so long.

It’s been a week since you’d broken up with your most recent boyfriend. And considering it had been a relationship of nearly 7 months, which that prick had very graciously ended by cheating on you, it made sense that you were devastated.

Venti was sure you’d get out of it eventually. But he also understood just how hard it was to love someone who didn’t reciprocate it. You needed time to process everything, and he’d wait for you.

He’s about to walk to the door, when it creaks open and you walk into the mail room.

Venti’s eyes widen, the shock mirrored on your face.

He’s suddenly very embarrassed of the bouquet and note. Maybe it’s too much? Too sudden? He notices how tired you look, eyes smudged with redness and concerningly-prominent dark circles.

He opens his mouth to start explaining himself.

But then you crack a weary smile, and nudge him with your toe.

“Couldn’t keep yourself away from me for a week, huh?”

Venti forgets about the anxiety he had about seeing you just a minute ago, and flicks your forehead. And then the lecture starts.

“You weren’t answering any of my calls or texts! You had me so worried. You look like you haven’t eaten in days and don’t even get me started on the bags under your eyes. You-“

You chuckle apologetically and hold up your hands in surrender.

“I wasn’t trying to avoid you, I swear! There’s no one I wanted to talk to more this last week than you. You’re my best friend, Venti, but I was too embarrassed to have you see me-“

You gesture down at your faded tank top and sweatpants.

“-like this.”

You’re about to say more but you’re interrupted by Venti pulling you into a hug.

“You don’t need to apologize, I just wanted to know if you were okay,” he whispers.

He can feel your gentle smile against his shoulder.

“Will you stop being clingy for a second so I can check my mail?”

Venti shakes his head, refusing to let go, like a child.

And then he remembers the flowers he left in your cubby and abruptly releasees you out of embarrassment.

He raises a hand to the back of his neck, red and fidgety as you open your mail box.

He watches your expression melt into a soft smile, and can’t help but smile himself.

You’ll be okay, and that’s all that matters to him.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA (idk if asshole is the right word or more creep idk) for keeping younger friends after high school?

Ok so I (F16) am autistic + struggle socially and my high school has like a unit to support people who are disabled or neurodivergent in some way, I spend most of my breaks and lunchtimes in the classrooms here and have been since I started here, and over that time I’ve made a lot of friends there but the issue is some of them are a few years younger than me

I’ve been friends with most of them for like 3 years now and I don’t think I specifically approached them or anything we just ended up meeting via spending time in the same place at lunch and made friends because we have similar interests/personalities, I didn’t see anything wrong with it but I’m starting to doubt that/I’ve seen people calling it weird (age gap friendships in general, not me specifically)

I have other friends outside of this group who are my age,both in school and who go to different schools, but then the group I mainly spend my lunches with is mostly people younger than me except my best friend S (f15, same year group in school though we just have like a few months apart) - started by me meeting my friend (m15, again same year just a few months) little sister let’s call her P (f14 + in the year group below me) and making pretty good friends with her and her best friend

It’s a British school so you start in y7 (age 11) and leave in y11 (age 16) so I’m leaving in a few months, friend group is me, S, P + her friend who are also in the year below me, 2 who are in year 9 and one who’s in year 8 (she’s 2010 I think and I’m 2008), let’s call her L

I know that sounds really weird and makes me sound like a creep but pretty much all of these I met when I myself was like 13 and they were 11/12, apart from L who started hanging out with P last year and sitting with us which caused me to make friends with her. For most of my time in school I haven’t seen a problem with this because they’re my friends and nothing more (I’ve been in love with someone for like 2 years now and she’s the same age as me soo) but I keep seeing like TikToks of people saying it makes you a pedo for having younger friends and i know it isn’t true but also I’m worried it’s creepy for me to have these friends even if it’s strictly platonic because idk I miss social cues a lot and I don’t know maybe having friends in a younger school year is weird

For the rest of school I’m just treating it as normal because I only have 3 months left, I’ve been friends with most of these mfs since 2021 and I’m not going to start being really distant to them now because that would be mean and they’re my friends who I care about but I feel like when I graduate it’s different and it’ll be weird for me to be friends with them as a college student when some of them will only be like year 9, we have a group chat and stuff but I feel like keeping touch with them would make me come off wrong but also cutting contact with them would be really mean

I’ve been bullied since I was in primary school I’m talking like year 3 and a lot of the people in my year group don’t like me even if I’ve basically never spoken to them (again this makes me come off wrong but it’s bc I’m “emo” aka im not emo I’m just quiet and somewhat alt and because I masked a lot less when we started hs so I was like. Harmless but weird/cringy 11 year old and even though I’ve changed a lot since then people still have that impression of me, i was also outed as bi in year 7 in a school full of homophobic people so there’s that) and so idk I feel like if people already don’t like me they’ll jump at anything to make me seem like I’m a bad person

Tl:dr I’m a 16 year old and my youngest friend is 13 but I feel like once I leave high school it’s no longer socially acceptable to have younger friends and that I’d be a creep to keep in contact, am I right That id be a creep for having young friends or am I just paranoid ?

[soobrat]

fuck up my life; hjs

milestone celebration masterlist

MINOR CHANGES MADE TO PREV ACT!

˗ˏˋ🎧´ˎ˗ pairing; han jisung x afab!reader

˗ˏˋ🎧´ˎ˗ words; 9.7k

˗ˏˋ🎧´ˎ˗ genre; this isn't your average every day angst, this is... advanced angst (+ a smidge of smut)

˗ˏˋ🎧´ˎ˗ warnings; very toxic relationship, two deplorable dirty cheaters, violence, graphic descriptions of injury (not for the squeamish), vague PIV, flashback mini smut, let me know if I missed anything, they're just cruel okay?

↻ ◁ || ▷ : I've never rewritten something as much as I've rewritten this. It's a big chapter (in terms of what happens) but it's still... well you'll have to read it. There's a reason the only smut is a flashback.

act ii ➻ glimpse of us

“Are you sure about her, Minho?” Something about Chan’s tone told you he wasn’t going to respect Minho’s decision either way. 

Minho sighs, you can tell he’s already sick of this. “Her and I have been together since we were freshmen. You guys don’t know her like I do.”

“I know her.” You inch a little closer, dangerously close to the doorway. Is Changbin there? Why the fuck is Changbin there?! “The amount of times I’ve been in detention with her, I know her plenty. I know she used to flirt with every guy there. Including me.”

Fuck, fuck. Minho doesn’t know about that, he doesn’t know about any of the shit Changbin saw. They never crossed paths in high school, so why the fuck is he here?

“That doesn’t matter, it’s been years since then. Ever heard of maturing? Bet you haven’t.”

You wince. You’re happy he’s sticking up for you, but his tone reminds you of your first time meeting his family. The way they reacted to his tone showed you this wasn’t normal for him. You gut clenches. Was his mom right?

“I know her, too.”

Your heart had effectively fallen out of your ass at the sound of Seungmin’s voice. 

“I probably know her better than you. I say get out while you can. You can’t fix whatever she’s got going on.” 

Your eyes glaze over, facing the wall but not focusing on anything. You’ve never heard Seungmin talk about you like that. This is it. There’s nothing he could use to paint Seungmin as unreasonable. Chan was an unlikable, judgmental asshole far before you came into the picture and Changbin was a drunken imbecile who flunked out of high school. But Seungmin… Seungmin was the only thing you and Minho had in common before you met. He’s a great person and even better friend. Not the type to talk shit about people or judge them unless it was truly warranted.

The type to properly convince Minho that his mother was indeed right about you changing him for the worse.

“Hey Seungmin,” You hear a chair get pushed back, the legs screeching against the wooden floor agonizingly slow. You hear the impact and the sound pulled from Seungmin because of it. You hear all of Minho’s friends react in shock and anger. You hear them order him to leave, hissing that he’s throwing his life away for a toxic bitch.

You stand there stunned, forgetting to skitter away before Minho walks out of the door. He looks down at you numbly, but you can see the regret seeping into his expression. He throws an arm around your shoulder and the two of you walk away from all his friends.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Jisung thought this would be the perfect environment.

“What compelled you to make that choice?”

Jisung asks himself that every day. He couldn’t dig for an answer, so it wouldn’t magically come to him now. But when he looks around after several minutes of quiet introspection, he sees a circle of impatient faces. It doesn’t distract him enough that his brain will stop flashing images of what Jiwoo will look like once he tells her this, but the words materialize nonetheless.

He’s anxious yet determined while he reevaluates these words before he speaks them into existence.

“Jisung. Jisung wake up!” 

He shoots up, brain on red alert as he looks around. Jiwoo’s jaded sigh sends fury coursing through Jisung’s veins. He looks down at his soiled underwear.

“Again?! It’s so– it’s so fucking disgusting! Clean it up!” Jiwoo kicks the comforter away before storming out of the room. Jiwoo has gained a lot of colorful language lately. Despite that, she is still shaking him awake for a drizzle of jizz. The two of them don’t even face each other in bed anymore, so she doesn’t have any on her. She wakes up at the crack of dawn, fucking rolls him over to check if it happened, and sounds the alarms like it’s defcon goddamn one. And if it’s that urgent for her and only her, why doesn’t she go sleep on the couch and leave Jisung the fuck alone? Now he’s going to function on less sleep at his job that provides sorely needed income for their new home.

Jisung snatches the bedding off the mattress, obeying her wishes like he always does. Fuming silently.

The memories crackle under his eyelids like torturous fireworks. All the moments that nudged him again and again and again until he was teetering off the edge of his admiration for Jiwoo.

After a quick inhale and beat of hesitation, the words are close to flying free like newly unshackled birds dancing in the wind. 

“My fiancée is a... m-my fiancée and I just need work.” Jisung cracks an awkward smile, reeling those angry thoughts back in and locking them up. He can't say things like that in a room full of strangers.

He looks around to see a room full of confusion and indifference. The instructor gives him a sympathetic look.

"Any one else wanna share?"

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

“We might as well get some bleach.” Jiwoo gestures half-heartedly at a bottle of bleach on the shelf. Jisung glares at her, knowing she’s not going to even look at him to give her demands. He rips the bleach off the shelf and drops it into the cart with a loud, heavy thud. She finally looks over at him, agitated.

“Why don’t you get extra detergent while you’re at it? Maybe two bottles since the washing machine has been working overtime.” Jiwoo is looking now, her eyes posing a challenge. She’s noticed the pissy attitude that Jisung has by now. Instead of getting upset that he is constantly annoyed in her presence like he thought she would, she goads him to do something about it.

Jisung tongues his cheek, knowing he could drop a bomb on her that would send her crumbling to the floor in tears. She’s gotten too comfortable with disrespecting him. It started with the sheets, but there were certain jabs and insults that revealed her true feelings.

“Maybe if you went for a jog or even to the gym, your brain would have something else to think about other than sex, sex, and sex.”

“Look at the bags under your eyes. It’s 9 am for god sakes. You didn’t work late yesterday either, you’re just sleeping half the day away.”

“This house is a mess every time I get back! I mean— how hard is it to put the cereal box back on top of the fridge? And your snack wrappers are beside the garbage can. Trash goes in the can.”

“What happened to those hobbies of yours?”

He should’ve told her then, but he really wants to tell her now. He goes to look her in the eye but notices she’s looking past him in confusion. He turns, flinching when he sees a face he recognized. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t know who he was after such a reaction, but he couldn’t fool himself into believing he didn’t recognize him either. He could never forget a face that exhibited such rage, pain, and regret.

“Do we know you, sir?” Jiwoo asks, voice losing its intensity from earlier.

Minho… that was the name you pleaded for in your sleep. The one you whispered in fear when he found out about the two of you. Right now he just has rage in his eyes.

Minho walks away without a word. When Jisung looks back at Jiwoo, her face is softer. She looks at him with doe eyes, the ones that appear when she’s not aware she resembles a fawn. Moments like these twist Jisung’s stomach even more. Times where Jiwoo is like her old self, no defensiveness or agitation. It’s the Jiwoo he fell in love with, whose image is eroded through his eyes in favor of someone else. No matter how much he forces himself, he doesn’t remember that moment when she broke his favorite anime figure when she makes that face. He remembers the first time he caressed your face after he finished doing unspeakable things to you. The way you looked at him in adorable horror, horror he couldn’t really decipher then.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

You could kind of smell his body wash, but the smell of mildew was overwhelming. Not enough for you to peel the towel off your pillow. 

Minho left the house spotless. He cleaned up after your tantrum, and despite hours of back and forth with yourself, you can’t figure out whether he did it before or after he decided to leave. Did he clean it out of empathy? Picking up the glass with his bare hands and not caring if it cuts him because he’s so torn up that he hurt you? Or did he do it with a smile he couldn’t hide, skipping as he moved around the apartment he’d finally be abandoning for a better life?

You took a lot of time opening cupboards and drawers trying to find one sign of him ever being there. The only thing you found was a towel he used after a shower and left on the sink.

After some time in a psych ward, you decided to leave that house before it killed you. So you never did find out if he came back for it. 

You let the older woman who owns the complex know you’d be moving out. She was confused, unaware that Minho had left. 

“I speak to him all the time and he never told me.”

Light swam in your eyes for the first time in months. You take a quick inhale, darting your tongue out to moisten your cracked lips as you think through your next move. You could ask her to tell him that you’re okay. That you miss him. That you love him so much. But he wouldn’t be able to see your face, that there’s no shit eating grin or feigned regret. 

“Tell him that I’m moving out, so he doesn’t have to pay for the apartment anymore. Please.” The smile you force flickers off your face immediately after. You breeze past her with your bags before she can pry.

The view from your window is less bleak, and you’re no longer faced with empty areas that used to be filled with Minho. This is the place you and Minho used to talk about leaving to. He was frantic because his friends were urging Seungmin to press charges. You saw Seungmin not long after that, one side of his face swollen and bruised. That visual made you sick, so you didn’t mind Seungmin glaring at you and turning the other direction. 

Thankfully, Seungmin never pressed charges. 

You laugh, the silly manner in which you do so pushes you to laugh more. You spoke about leaving to this very place with two different men and you’re still here alone. You’re truly amazing.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Another day, another useless, petty fight. 

“It’s not normal, the way you are. I don’t care what your bros say, I don’t care what those dude movies tell you, most men aren’t like this. They aren’t animals who go feral at the sign of a tit!” 

Jisung chuckles, he can’t help it. Jiwoo uses her new naughty words like a child. He gets more pissed off looking at her smug face, so he’s glad it’s fading after he laughed.

“Something funny? There’s nothing funny about you being a pervert.”

“You don’t even know.” Jisung mutters before laughing again. 

Jiwoo moves closer, her brows lowering until they are perched right on top of her eyes. “What did you say?”

“I said what is the goal here? You bitch at me every day and I’m still the same.” The words fly free and Jisung feels lighter because of it. Jiwoo looks offended, the goading she’s been doing for weeks now finally working. 

“I bitch? Is that what I do?”

“Yes! You bitch at me at the crack of dawn–”

“9 am isn’t the crack of dawn!”

“I work late! My sleep schedule doesn’t just change because I don’t work two days out of the week! I’m! Tired!” Jisung’s volume goes flying against his will. Jiwoo flinches, this sudden change from Jisung pushing her to be incensed. She opens her mouth to fire back but Jisung is on a roll. 

“You call to bitch at me at work, you bitch at me when I come home, you bitch to yourself about me when I’m in the other room. All you do is bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch.” It’s Jisung now that sounds like a child discovering naughty words as he hurls them at his fiancée.

The breath Jiwoo exhales is shaky, her eyes glassy. She raises her hand, jaw dropping open to say her response but she stops. She hesitates in silence and Jisung’s anger builds while he watches her. Is she really hurt because he retaliated? Isn’t that what she’s egging him on to do?

“Go on! Say what you were going to say.” His volume still high, he causes Jiwoo to flinch after standing in silence for so long. 

““You don’t even know”... That’s what you said, right?” Jiwoo’s goading face is back. It’s mixed with hurt, and she doesn’t even know what to be hurt about yet. But she’s asking for it, and he’s going to give it to her.

He does what he always does, imagine her reaction. He’s entertained the scenario that she crumbles to the ground and begs to know why, shatters every dish against the ground, guts him like a fish, et cetera. Whatever happens, there’s only one way to find out, right? He just hopes he’s able to go in his room and read comics in peace without her–

His room. Their room. Suddenly he’s thinking back to the day they bought this house. She was only a little snippy then, so Jisung was a little excited. He could stop seeing you sprawled out, completely exhausted on his bed as he crawled over you. No amount of exhaustion ever stopped you from begging for more. Because of his guilt he didn’t accept Jiwoo’s offer to let her family pay for the house in full. He felt that weight off his shoulders for a little while. Then they move in and all traces of you move to Jiwoo. Even now, the hurt on her face only aches his heart because he sees you the moment you realized he was going back to Jiwoo. He only soiled the sheets more often after they moved and his thoughts of you became more shameless. Of course Jiwoo would be aggravated by him. Telling her the truth will morph that aggravation into something that could get him kicked out.

“What don’t I know, Jisung?” The look in Jisung’s eye makes her ask with more urgency. Jisung wonders about you in this moment of pressure. He wonders if you were serious about your proposition, or if it was just the two of you fantasizing that you betrayed your significant others just to get off. You asked the night after Minho ended things and he laughed mid stroke. If you were serious, you were probably hurt at that moment and somewhere alone right now. Would you let him stay with you after Jiwoo kicks him out? After he chose her over you?

“Hello?!”

“I get off on you being disgusted by me.” Jisung shouts, rendering Jiwoo speechless. This is what he’s been waiting for. She’s silent, the bitching has stopped, but he can’t help the disturbed feeling he has. Words leap from his turbulent stomach, stumbling from his lips.

“I… hump the bed thinking about you with semen on your body… and being distressed by it–”

Jiwoo gasps in horror, rushing away from Jisung like he’s a monster and not the man she’s marrying next month. She shuts herself in their room. The slam of the door and her shocked sobs echo torturously in his brain. He sits on the couch and clamps his hands over his ears. He should be consoling her, she’s going to be his wife. 

What can he say? He told her the truth and now she’s sobbing because of who he is. That’s how all this shit started. She yells at him at the beginning of every day because of who he is. Because he’s dreaming about you. About how your eyes light up when he reveals who he is. 

Next month he’ll be stuck in a constant state of being ashamed.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

You press “play sound”, following the beep until you find where you tossed your purse before passing out last night. You fetch it from the bathtub, picking up all its contents that spilled into the basin. You fiddle with the case of the airtag, flipping it over and brushing your thumb over the exposed metal. You peer at your phone, noting the “shared with Minho❤️‍🩹”.

Can he willingly remove himself? Did he even remember that your tag is in his phone? Would he look for you–

You close the app, inhaling deeply to distract yourself from your thoughts. In your mind you reopen the app and hit the “stop sharing” button. You replay the action over and over. It’s the healthy thing to do, right? And it’s so easy. Instead, you go back downstairs and lie on the now dry towel. The smell of mildew has gotten stronger now. There isn’t even a hint of his body wash anymore. Looking at his pictures was a little too painful, this towel was the only thing that comforted you. Now it was just smelly and empty.

The emptiness left room for the thoughts to come through and terrorize you. Would Jisung come? Unlikely judging by his and his fiancée’s social media. The wedding was full steam ahead. Maybe if the two of you had kept in contact during all this time it’d be different. But you deleted all your socials and changed your number. There’s only one way for him to see you, it was perhaps too much to fly here for someone he just saw as a booty call. 

You shiver, pulling your blanket up over your shoulders and clenching your eyes shut.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

“I’m staying at my friend’s house.” Jiwoo emerged from the room hours later. Not half asleep and asking him to come to bed, fully awake and with a duffle bag of clothes in hand. He thought maybe they’d be able to cuddle it out. He always loved cuddling Jiwoo. But that’s just like her. She’s not vulnerable, and if she is, she doesn’t show it to him. She’ll come back in a few days with her eyes nearly puffed shut from crying the entire time she was there, pretending like things are normal.

She was never the pitiful one.

The next morning, she’s not back. Jisung decides to head to the grocery store since their last trip ended early after Jiwoo got spooked by Minho. He walked around aimlessly, trying to think of things Jiwoo would get. Every item he picks up, he imagines how Jiwoo would scold him and make him feel stupid for buying it.

He ends up storming back out of the store and storming toward the bus stop. Jisung loses steam once he notices he’s heard footsteps right behind him since he exited the store. Footsteps are a normal thing to hear when you’re walking down a sidewalk. Even if they seem to keep speeding up. That’s what Jisung keeps telling himself. 

He’s afraid to face the truth and even more afraid to turn around. Because of this he’s shoved into an alley, already receiving a strike to the face the minute he recognizes who’s doing it. His glasses fly to the ground which accentuates how unfocused his vision becomes. Jisung staggers backward, shakily trying to use the brick wall behind him to straighten himself back up. Minho delivers another punch straight to Jisung’s jaw, sending him to the floor this time. Jisung writhes in pain, muttering ‘stop’ while moving his sore jaw as little as possible. His feet slip against a rancid liquid seeping from the dumpster and he lands on his bare forearm, scraping it as he raises his other arm in a vain attempt to stop Minho.

Minho digs his fingers into Jisung’s much frailer arms and flips him over with ease. 

“You moved out with her? Gave her a ring? Hm?”

Before Jisung can even begin to understand or ask what or why, Minho continues his onslaught. Minho grips his shirt with one hand and balls the other, sending it into Jisung’s face over and over.

“How long have you two been together?” Minho grits, but his tone still has this faux questioning tone. His brows are furrowed, trying to hide the fury in his eyes with the confusion he’s trying to sell.

A punch to the eye has Jisung’s vision fading to black. Fear for his mortality sets in as he tries to block strikes from this deranged man.

“What?! What do you want?! I’m not with her anymore!” Jisung yells incredulously, his voice cracking through his bleeding lips.

“Your fiancée?” Minho responds breathlessly. Through the fog in his brain and the throbbing pain, confusion sets in. His brain isn’t focused enough to decipher why he’s asking about Jiwoo. 

“Are you sleeping with her?” Asks Jisung dumbly. He doesn’t mean it and it doesn’t come from jealousy. He physically can’t think and it’s spiking his anxiety even further. He wants Minho to get to the point but unfortunately Jisung just pissed him off even more. Minho’s nostrils flare, eyes blown completely wide as he shoves Jisung to the floor. Jisung’s head bounces off the pavement, sending him even further into a haze. 

He’s brought right back with yet another punch. Blood fills his mouth. Minho mutters something about how he’d never do something like that to you. 

“She’s not going to change because you want her to.” Jisung shouts urgently. He seems to have said the magic words since Minho lowers his fist. Jisung is wary, but his body relaxes anyway because it needs it. Any more agitation and Minho will induce a heart attack. 

“She told you about us didn’t she? She told you what she put me through?”

“Yes! And I’m sorry–”

“Apologize to your fiancée, motherfucker.” Minho spits, raising his fist again. 

“What do you want?! I can’t take back what happened!”

Minho lowers his fist to grab Jisung’s shirt with both hands, pulling him forward. 

“I want you to be a horrible person on your own. Don’t drag her into it. S-she fucks random men because she doesn’t know how to properly ask for attention.”

If Jisung’s brain wasn’t practically mush right now he’d roll his eyes. This is how she got away with it for so long, because he treats her like a child. She’s a woman he couldn’t handle. 

Jisung wasn’t aware he was glaring at the man until Minho yanked him closer. His breath was hot against his face and Jisung felt fear flood back into his body.

“But you,” Minho grabs Jisung’s face, one of his fingers digging into a cut on his cheekbone. Jisung whimpers helplessly. “You ruined everything! I could’ve helped her. She was close to tiring herself out and giving in. I would’ve taken her back to therapy… you made her comfortable.” Minho’s grip loosened the more he spoke, tears pooling in his eyes as his words lost their bite. As Minho got less angry Jisung felt more and more pissed, like it was transferring to him.

“That’s all bullshit. She told me the two of you have been dating since high school and you think she’d change now? You’re ruining your own life trying to fix who she is.” Jisung’s heart is beating rapidly like last night. He feels like he could take on the world. He’s already been glared at in disgust by his fiancée and beaten to a pulp by his mistress’s ex. Nothing can stop him from saying what the fuck he has to say, and they can divorce or kill him to stop. Jisung smirks.

“You don’t know shit. None of you know! She would never actually look at anyone else…” Minho loses more and more confidence and Jisung laps it up. He feels his body buzz once he realizes the information he has. Minho has no idea. Jiwoo has no idea. Nobody has even a fucking clue but they’re about to find out.

“Do you know that place she dreamed of moving to with you?” Jisung whispers, barely able to contain the laughter threatening to bubble up. Minho sports that look of sorrow from that day. If he thinks the fact you told Jisung about the secrets that were just for you and Minho was bad, he had another thing coming. The words rush out like a wave, sending a rush of sadistic joy through Jisung in its wake.

“She asked to run away with me too.” 

Jisung drops the bomb and gives Minho a little time to process. Only a little, because laughter bursts straight from Jisung’s chest, spit flying onto Minho’s face. Jisung watches with vindication as Minho struggles to process his words. He grapples with the fact that you’re not here to confirm, but also the fact Minho knows that with you? It’s possible.

Minho’s fist trembles around the soiled fabric of Jisung's shirt. A tear breaks free from Minho’s eye as he sends his fist into Jisung’s face with a pained grunt. Jisung’s smile slowly fades as he feels his face be mashed in. If he dies here, he dies an innocent victim and Jiwoo’s memories of him are never sullied by the full truth. Minho will be punished by his own naivety and you…

“Hey! Stop!” The frantic voice sounds distant. “Someone help!! Call the police!”

Jisung is dropped to the ground. The impact is hard enough that his vision is slowly fading.

“There’s a beach right in the backyard! Ngh-!” You point to your phone, your hand falling to the bed as Jisung sinks in deep. He pushes in deeper, grinning at how hollow your noises sound when he does that. He leans over your shoulder, reaching for the phone to bring it closer to his face.

“This is niiice.” He purrs next to your ear. You roll your eyes at his exaggerated intrigue, unable to see how focused his eyes are. 

“Give it back.”

Jisung bites his lip, swatting away your hand and grabbing your throat to keep you still. 

“Don’t get distracted, now…” He warns with a roll of his hips. He grins at the wanton moan he earns. “But um… how are you planning to pay for this?” His tone wavers, his authority becoming hard to maintain the more he stares at the photo.

“I don’t do shit with my life. No hobbies to pay for, no dinners with family or friends, no girls’ trips.” Jisung flinches, glancing at your pinched features to see if that last part was pointed. Your eyes flutter shut as a pleased, wispy moan floats from your lips.

“Minho takes care of the bills and rent so I started to consider quitting my job. Instead I started saving. The only thing that kept me going was the fact that…” You trail off, Jisung can feel your body stiffening under him. Your peaceful noises get caught in your throat.

“T-that I wanted to do something nice for him–” 

“Shhh…” Jisung clenches his hand tighter around your throat, trailing wet kisses on the shell of your ear. The light catches the tear that rolls down your cheek. Jisung tears his eyes away from it and returns to the listing. He takes note of the brick wall and black wood accents, how he can already hear the crashing waves while looking at the beach, how the house looks in the winter, the fairy lights, Aewol-eup, Jeju-si–

Jisung is hoisted up onto the stretcher. Whatever the people around him are yelling is beyond Jisung’s grasp. He coughs, blood gurgling in his throat. He blinks, his eyelids suddenly heavy. His body feels heavy. He exhales shakily, giving his body the rest it’s begging for.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Your eyes blink open, aching from the brightness of the sun. You groan, cursing yourself for not closing the curtains before passing out again. Flashes of last night play in your mind. A guy propositioned you yet again. You couldn’t find it in you. Whether it was because you associate one night stands with hurting Minho or because you only crave sex the way you and Jisung did it now, you don’t know. Possibly both.

You groan again, rolling out of bed and straight onto the floor. Getting drunk without the follow up of sex was not nearly as gratifying. None of this was gratifying, though. Too many loose ends and questions unanswered.  

You start your scavenger hunt for your bag. You don’t even bother using your phone, it’s always in one of three places. Not the bathroom, not the bedroom floor, so it must be the kitchen. You peer behind the island and surely enough, there it is. You pick it up, grasping at the airtag case out of habit. Horror floods your body once you realize the case is hollow. You turn it around as if the tag will magically be there. You turn your house upside down searching for the tiny thing, playing the sound over and over to no avail. 

You sink to the floor, unable to come to terms with your burgeoning emotions. A tear crawls down your cheeks. You usually reserve crying for getting drunk on wine over the weekends, but it’s out of your control. Nothing comes after. No sobbing or anger. Just emptiness. You look back at your phone, seeing that the tag’s location was updated. Someone else is carrying it god knows where as it moves along the map. Further and further away from you.

Your eyes flit down to the one person the item is shared with. You click the tab and then his name. “View Friend” and “Remove” are the options presented. You feel another tear roll. Your finger hovers over “View Friend”. It slowly moves down, your thumb thudding heavily against the “Remove” button.

You remain on the floor, your vision blurry with tears as you go through and delete every remnant of Minho from your phone. You get to an especially old one, a laugh bubbling from your throat at the way Minho is attempting to block the camera with his hand. You smile, a bittersweet feeling slowly peters out as you delete the last image.

“Goodbye Minho.”

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

“Can you hear me Mr. Han?”

Jisung blinks, squinting at the bright lights above his head. He wriggles his fingers and toes, inhaling shallowly and painfully at the realization that he’s alive. A feeling of gratefulness washes over him as he clenches his eyes shut. He sees you behind his eyelids. He smiles, a warm feeling radiating from each memory of you that plays. He’s alive.

“Mr. Han?” Jisung vocalizes in response, wishing he wasn’t hooked up to fifty million machines so he could turn over. But he’s alive. You don’t have to be shocked by the news and have your getaway ruined. He imagines you getting the call and clenches his teeth. If you saw him like this… would you think differently of him? Have any doubts that he could dominate you? Take care of you? Or would you only see Minho that way? Minho… was he arrested?

Jisung’s eyes snap open, the pain suddenly peaking. The pulse reads 153 as the monitor beeps incessantly. 

“Jisung?!” He hears a woman’s voice and smiles through the throbbing pain. Now he can apologize to you, ask you if you still hate him. Tell you you shouldn’t because you left him. Tell you not to look at him.

“Jisung oh my god!” Jiwoo leans over him between the rush of nurses. She covers her mouth with shaky hands as she’s pulled away. Some of Jisung’s tension eases away upon seeing her.

“He’s my fiance!” Her piercing shrieks grow distant as Jisung’s brain gets foggy again.

The next morning the fog is lifted. Jiwoo’s figure to his left nags at him. He strains his neck to look at her, unable to disguise the contempt on his face. Luckily the bandages on both his brows does that for him. He got a couple stitches for the cut on his cheek, a bandage on his nose, and gauze shoved up both nostrils. A dull throbbing ache becomes increasingly apparent in his skull.

“I spoke to the police.” Jiwoo speaks, deepening the throb.

Jisung continues his tried and true method. Met with silence, Jiwoo continues.

“His name is Lee Minho. He’s the same guy who was staring at us in the grocery store. The same guy outside our old house. He hasn’t said much, just that he’ll cooperate with authorities. That throws getting a motive out the window.” Jiwoo’s eyes are trained on nothing until the last part, when she shoots a pointed look Jisung’s way. He rolls his eyes to a different direction. 

Jiwoo sighs shakily.

“I will be pressing charges. Our lawyer says we have a case since we saw him twice before the battery happened.”

“I don’t want to press charges.” Jisung says carefully, loaded with vexation.

“And I wonder why that is.” The urge to cry Jiwoo tried to suppress breaks free, her words unstable as her eyes moisten. Jisung craves the fog.

She waits again for him to explain. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t know where to start.

“Answer me Jisung!”

”I don’t know him, okay? Think about it, a strange man keeps appearing and just staring at us. Did he seem like he was running an errand and just happened to stop outside of our house? Was he shopping that day? Clearly he’s not right in the head, he needs help. Not to be incarcerated.” Before each word, Jisung’s mind threatens to stumble. "Even when we spoke the day he assaulted me... something wasn't right." His confidence skates along thin ice but still sails eerily smooth. He hazards a glance her way. She’s shocked, but her concern has considerably diminished. Her confidence slowly drains away until her head droops.

… Was that it? Is she back to thinking he's just a pathetic pervert instead of a sinister one?

“Well,” Jiwoo straightens her blazer, clearing her throat with a look of slight embarrassment on her face. “He’ll still face charges for the crime witnessed. There’s nothing we can do about that.”

The two sit in silence again, but Jisung can tell she isn’t waiting for him to speak. He can see her fidgeting in his peripheral. 

“I-I’m sorry, it’s just… you really scared me that night, Ji.” Her voice wavers and Jisung stirs uncomfortably in his hospital bed. “I was scared that I somehow didn’t know you after all. I know I’m being paranoid. I just want you to know that I love you so much.” Jiwoo reaches for his hand and in a split second of horror, Jisung flinches away. She looks at him, confusion and hurt taint her features so harrowingly. Every second he doesn’t remedy this is painful but he can’t. Especially not when Jiwoo adds to it.

“Haseul and I talked about it, and I was being too harsh. Sex addiction is a real problem, and you can’t control what you do in your sleep.” Despite feeling like their relationship was hanging by a thread mere minutes ago, he watches in awe as Jiwoo’s expression becomes more… chipper. “I want us to start off our future on the right foot. I mean, we have a house now. Ji… we’re getting married.” She sits on the side of the hospital bed, grabbing his hands with glassy, hope-filled eyes.

“This is it.” She whispers. Her voice sounds sweet. She means well, but Jisung’s hands stiffen in hers. This is what he wanted. Things will be better from here, she finally sees how she was smothering him. They’ll go home, cuddle, maybe have sex with a little more understanding and communication. Have a healthy marriage. One where she willingly ignores the fact that he finds pleasure in her displeasure. Where she doesn’t know how deep that dynamic runs.

She looks a little worried when he doesn’t respond. She strokes the side of his head. His hand twitches, wanting to swat her away as if mere contact with him will speed up the destruction of her that he’s sure to cause. 

“The doctor said you might be disoriented for a little while.” She forces a quick smile, to not worry him he assumes. An assumption that triggers nausea. The feeling builds until he’s jerking upright and covering his mouth. Jiwoo briefly panics before grabbing one of the emesis bags the nurse left. She hands it to Jisung just in the nick of time. She rubs his back, unaffected by the foul nature of it all. She collects the bag after confirming that he finished. The thought of getting out of there is unsubstantial. The lethargy overtaking him is anything but. 

Sleep whisks him away and wraps him tight. He thinks he’s waking up but it’s another dream. He makes his bed, goes to work, pours a cup of coffee, takes a jog. He cycles through many mundanities before reminding himself that he’s still asleep. He cycles again and winds up in the snow. The cold burns his hands. He looks down to see them shaking and bright red, as if they’d just been pulled from the snow. His subconscious distantly tries to wake him, too distant to penetrate his unconscious. 

It hurts, his hands are pulsing but he’s standing outside a house he has no clue how to get into the house. Rooted in place, he cranes his neck to try and find an entrance. His head reaches far enough that he can see inside. There’s a fire going, the room glows a comfy orange that his frigid body longs for. He sees a figure on the couch, huddled up as if they’re as cold as he is. He reaches his hand out, accidentally knocking against the window. When you look at him it brings about an incomprehensible feeling of dread. 

You’re sobbing, yet still shooting him a bitter glare. You call out his name. His brain rattles, apologies spilling from his lips while he’s still rooted in place. You call him over and over, each call of his name makes his body jolt. He can hear his subconscious now and he’s sent into a frenzy to escape. Trying to wake feels like he’s being pulled apart in all different directions. 

He wakes with a gasp, the fog over his brain too thick to bring him out of the snow. 

“I’m sorry.” He sobs, realizing he’s being held by Jiwoo, still in the hospital bed. As she hugs him, chanting about how happy she is that he woke up, he’s punching himself for not speaking to her. Letting her know that he wasn’t disoriented when he didn’t speak to her. He should make up for leaving her hanging after she apologized and bared her soul to him. His brain might be foggy now but he has the ability to comfort his girlfriend in this time of concern for him. 

“I know it’s hard, you don’t have to say anything honey.” She whispers tearfully, sniffling as she pulls away from him. 

But he doesn’t comfort her, or come clean about willingly ignoring her.

The doctor explains to him and Jiwoo that he needs more time in the hospital. More time in what feels like purgatory.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Jisung isn’t sure what all this activity in his brain means. Is his anxiety active because he doesn’t want to see Minho or because he wants him to come out already. He bounces his leg quietly as he looks around. The only other visitor stands from the chair in tears, leaving him completely alone. While his eyes are trained on the person leaving, Minho sits on the other side of the glass. 

“You look like shit.” He speaks into the phone. Minho’s voice focuses Jisung’s attention back to him. Seeing Minho makes his face ache. 

“You do too.” Jisung says with a sigh of irritation. When Minho narrows his eyes at him he wonders if they’ve already started off on the wrong foot. 

“Coming here to gloat some more?” Minho asks, his eyes actually requesting information despite his retort. Jisung sighs as his eyes dance around the room. He reevaluates why he’s even here, if it was a mistake, and if he should just leave.

“We’re not pressing charges.” He starts, figuring he should at least tell him that. He doesn’t know how long he’ll be in there, or how waiting for the news of whether or not he'll be taken to court felt. He hopes that giving him the news now eases whatever concerns he’s hiding away.

“Is your head still a little fuzzy?” Minho smiles crookedly, looking him up and down. 

“No, I’m completely conscious.”

The quick answer catches Minho off guard, his smug attitude dissipating as he readjusts in his seat.

“Well, thanks.” He glances briefly at Jisung, his expression reading confusion. “And wipe that worried look off your face. I think I deserve a little time in here if I’m honest.”

Jisung doesn’t want to unpack the sound of reflection in Minho’s voice. The fact that it sounds like Minho is referring to more than the aggravated battery. As far as Jisung knows, you were the only wrongdoer in the relationship. The deeply troubled look you sported whenever anything slightly related to her boyfriend was brought up made Jisung assume you were being abused. You quickly shot that down. He can’t even begin to understand how Minho came to the conclusion that he belongs in there.

“I want to tell her the truth.” Jisung blurts out, shame overwhelming him and casting his eyes to the floor. Minho is quiet for a moment.

“I only did it because I was so worked up, but it’s nice to see that I knocked some sense into you.” Jisung looks up to see Minho with no smile on his face. Jisung feels like he’s being looked down upon despite being on this side of the glass.

“So I should do it? What if… what if it just ruins her faster?” Minho continues to hold Jisung in his judgmental gaze, either torturing him or reflecting on his answer.

“Do you care about her?”

“Of course I do.” Jisung says, a little disappointed by such shallow reasoning. “She’s my fiancée.”

“Not her.” Minho hisses, as if it’s obvious. Jisung’s eyes slowly widen as it dawns on him. He thinks of you, spreading noisy color throughout his mind. Thinking of you is always so complicated but when faced with such a simple question, Jisung feels like he can finally make sense of it. He looks at Minho, cowering away soon after realizing what information he just relayed and to whom. 

“Then don’t.” Minho states bluntly, a pinprick of venom piercing Jisung. It’s slow acting, leaving Jisung in a daze as he tries to make sense of his visit.

“And since you hit me with a truth bomb, let me help you out.” Minho cuts his reflection short, causing Jisung to look at him cautiously. "Stop acting like you care about your fiancée. You’re just lying to yourself.”

Minho watches Jisung process the truth, satisfied when no signs of fighting it crop up. Jisung hangs up the phone, slowly standing from his seat and leaving the room. Minho goes to stand himself after sitting in a little silence. 

“Not so fast, Lee. You got another visitor.” The guard says, pushing against his chest. Minho turns around to see someone standing where Jisung just was, their head cut off by the wall above the window. He feels his heart fall before finally moving his feet. He sits down hesitantly, finally meeting your nervous gaze. Your eyes dart around before you grab the phone. 

“I-I wanted to come in long enough after him that you knew I didn’t come with him. I wouldn’t do that.” You rush out, still standing and fisting your t-shirt. Minho smiles lazily, tilting his head toward the chair.

“Stay a while.” He jokes. Your stiffness melts only a little, offering a stilted smile before sitting down. Just like Jisung, your eyes don’t linger on him long, bouncing around the room. 

“So?” He says, hoping he reminds you that you have a time limit. Your eyes finally linger, and the look on your face suggests Jisung wasn’t lying when he said Minho looked like shit. He sighs.

“Listen, don’t worry about me–”

“You’re a good person.”

Your words give him pause. His chest starts to ache and the sensation makes him grit his teeth. What are you doing here?

“I know that you’re probably looking back at… us and what I did to you and obsessing over everything you think you did wrong. Just know you did everything out of love and empathy. That’s who you are.”

It’s Minho now who can’t keep his eyes on you now. He balls his fist, huffing out of frustration. “You can’t fix this.” He warns.

“I-I know. I know we’ll never get back together and I know you’ll probably always hate me. In fact, I hope you hate me. Because you should.” Your voice creaks, your brows furrowing as you squeeze your eyes shut. “I used to look down on you for drinking yourself to sleep on the couch when you could’ve done much worse. You could’ve given me a taste of my own medicine, stooped down to my level. But you never did. And you hung on for so long.” Your voice gives way for the tears and the mucus that coats your throat. 

“None of that makes you weak or stupid.” You take a tissue out of your pocket, drying your face and clearing your throat. “I know how it must’ve felt when you picked me up that night, after the news.”

“Stop.” He warns lowly. The ache deepens and threatens to make him cry himself. He tries not to think about that night. The way you looked after being utterly crushed and considering giving up on the world.

“I had no one left and you were there for me. But that was never your responsibility. I’m my own responsibility.”

Minho’s jaw quivers from clenching it so tight. Your eyes are steadfast, he can see that you mean it. That you’re not just saying this for sympathy or to pull him back in. His head droops over, unable to look anymore.

“If hating me helps you feel less responsible for me, please, replay every shitty action I’ve done until you think of me as the dirt beneath your shoes. But please never beat yourself up. You should’ve never had to deal with that.”

The silence seems to throw you off, judging by the way your eyes falter. You look down before standing from the chair.

“Wait.” Minho says just before you take the phone away from your ear. The way you look at him suggests you think he’ll take your advice and tell you how much he hates you. 

“Thank you. Good luck with everything… I hope you find support.” He looks up at you, the both of you share an assured but hopeful look before you hang up the phone.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Unforecast rain spooked Jiwoo earlier according to one of her younger brothers.

“Don’t tell her I told you this, but when Chuu gets all anxious it’s hilarious.” He elbows Jisung, his laughter faltering once he realizes Jisung is staring into space. “Are you nervous too?”

“Huh? No. Tell Jiwoo it only sprinkled for a little while. And we’ll be in the garden conservatory for the ceremony.” Jisung says in the robotic manner that has gotten him this far into this day.

Her brother rolls his eyes. “Okay, but I’m not going to be you guys’ messenger because of a stupid superstition. I’ll literally tell you what her dress looks like right now.”

Once he leaves, Jisung’s ears begin ringing again. People think he’s getting ready, when he really just holed himself up in building's office for some peace and quiet. Would he be able to slip out without anyone knowing? Should he leave after the vows? Or just before they sign the marriage license?

The sigh he lets out does nothing to ease him. He hasn’t had enough time to think on what Minho said. Should he have broken up with her? Or should he disappear quietly? Leave a note?

Jiwoo has been a wreck for the past few days leading up to the wedding. It’s been mostly happy tears, being so wracked with excitement to marry Han Jisung. To have Han Jisung’s children. To be with Han Jisung forever, happily ever after. Will they have kids before or after they stop speaking to each other around the house because she’s so hurt by what Jisung has done, but loves him too much to leave him?

It can’t get to that point. It can’t get to the point that Jisung is visiting her in jail after she murders you in a fit of rage. That she looks gaunt behind the glass with no light in her eyes anymore or no cheerful smile. Her family will hate him, his kids will hate him, he’ll hate himself.

“I’ve gotta get the fuck out of here.” He says shakily. He bursts out the door staggering to exit the building when her other brother stops him. He pats him firmly on the back.

“It’s that time, big man!”

He feels like throwing up again. There is no concussion this time to maybe break him out. Make him actually sick so he can trick someone into taking him to hospital. The color leaves his face as he’s guided to his spot at the end of the aisle. He can hear people whispering about him in their seats. 

“How cute! Look how nervous he is!”

“Watch how his face changes once he sees his wife.”

“I’ll get a picture!”

He stands there, jittery and struggling to breathe as he debates if it’s too late. If he should just give in. Be complicit in her downfall.

The crowd stands and cheers as the doors open at the other end of the building. She pulls her veil out of her face, looking at him with tears welling in her eyes. Cameras flash as she slowly makes her way to him. All at once, Jiwoo’s expression flickers from pure joy to hurt confusion and everyone in the crowd looks at him. The music continues as people begin whispering again. This time there is no aura of excitement.

“Why does he look like that?”

“That’s no way to look at the love of your life.”

“What is wrong with him?”

Jiwoo cautiously walks forward, standing in front of her ghostly white soon-to-be husband. She looks into his blank stare begging silently for an explanation as to why he doesn’t seem happy in the slightest to be seeing her for the first time in her wedding dress. Why he’s continuing to just stare at her when he should obviously sense the atmosphere. 

“Please be seated.” The officiant speaks. Whispers continue and Jisung’s eyes feel dry. “Thank you. Friends, family, and loved ones, we come together today, in the sight of you as witnesses to join Han Jisung and Kim Jiwoo in marriage. We gather around them now in this wonderful place, and we look on with love and hope as these two begin their new life together as one.”

As he stares into her face of horror, he imagines that this will be common in their lives. He feels disgust upon hearing the officiant describe their future. As one he says. His mind forces the image of Jiwoo being meshed into a grotesque amalgam with him to begin the rest of her miserable life.

“Jisung?” Jiwoo’s voice is frail as she jolts him back to the present. 

“Huh?”

The murmurs get louder and unabashed in their condemnation of Jisung’s behavior. 

“Ahem, I said. Han Jisung, do you take Kim Jiwoo to be your lawfully wedded wife? Will you honor and cherish her? Love, trust, and commit to her, through joy and pain, sickness and health, and whatever life may throw at you both, until death do you part?”

Jiwoo looks miserable and sickly on her deathbed, contradicting the stereotype of women always outliving their husbands. No, Jiwoo drank her days away, smoking two packs of cigarettes everyday. She withered her soul away in tandem with her physical self by entertaining her husband’s cruelty with her own. Dedicating more time to that than her kids. She wastes away in front of him, dying in the home she shared with the man who ruined her life. 

As if to make a point, his mind shifts to Minho’s face. He’s looking at him as if to asks:

“Is this what you want?”

“No!”

The gasps that come from the crowd and Jiwoo herself jolt Jisung like a bolt of electricity. 

“What the fuck?” Her brother grabs his shoulder and yanks Jisung from behind. He ignores his mother scolding him for his behavior and language. “What the fuck did you just say?” He shouts, this time shoving him.

“I-I…” Jisung stutters.

“Please! He was just recovering from a head injury. Jisung, tell them!” His own mother stands from her seat, her eyes pleading with him to get it together. His mother and father told him time and time again that Jiwoo was someone he should hold onto. That she’s a great girl who would make a great mother. They’re right. But there’s a reason he hasn’t stopped thinking about you since he last saw you. 

It starts with one step backward, the crowd silent as they wait for his response. He takes another step. And another. Then one forward. Then he’s running.

He hears Jiwoo scream after him in anguish, the crowd erupting in protest. He keeps running and running. He turns to see her brothers and her father tailing behind. His heart pumps with fear. The look on their faces is something he’s familiar with. It’s better this way, better than finding out he’s been in love with someone else the whole time. He tails a taxi, slapping the door for it to stop. It screeches to a halt and he nearly trips getting in. He falls over onto the seats, fearfully reaching for the door to slam it shut.

“Lock the doors!”

The driver looks startled, even more so when three men come banging on the window. He hears them calling him a coward, threatening to give him another concussion. He catches his breath, entering a coughing fit as he tries to calm down. 

“Where are you going?” The driver asks incredulously. Jisung says the first thing that comes to his overwhelmed mind. He clears his throat, feeling hoarse after exerting himself. His head pounds as he leans back on the seat.

By the time the driver gets there, the Eve is open. Jisung fishes his wallet out of his pocket, his only belonging now. He pays the driver and stands in front of the building. He slowly walks in, drenched in sweat in an outfit way too formal for a place like this. He sits in the same spot he did when he first came here. 

He remembers how he felt, and then thinks about what Minho told him. He wonders if he ever actually cared about Jiwoo or if he felt like she’d be good for him. If he was the same guy he was when he first sat here, he’d probably go camp outside of the house and wait for her to come home. Try to explain everything and hope selfishly that she’d forgive him. She’s better off never seeing him again.

Now what, he thinks as he orders a drink. He pats his pockets for his phone, wanting to look up nearby hotels. Or maybe he should look for ones far away. Maybe in Jeju-si…

Where’s his phone?

His heart drops, remembering that he set it on the desk in the office of the venue. How stupid of him to just run out like that. 

“Can I use your phone?”

The bartender laughs at him, jokingly asking if he’s lamenting his lost freedom as a man. 

“Tch,” Jisung smirks, accepting the phone with a shake of his head. He’s not the one who should be lamenting right now. Even if he did go through with it.

Instead of looking up hotels, he finds himself looking up a certain jail.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

“I guess I didn’t knock sense into you after all.” Minho’s voice crackles through the speaker of the phone.

They could go back and forth all day about how Jisung acted too late and in the most destructive way. Jisung already spent all of last night doing that. He chews on his lip, looking down, trying to quickly find a way to bring this up. You’re the only thing that makes sense right now.

“Have you uh… spoken to her about any of this?” Jisung silently prays, peeking at Minho to try and guess his answer before he says it. He doesn’t expect to see Minho smiling to himself. He feels a distant ache in his chest.

”You didn’t see her on your way out from seeing me?”

Watching Jisung’s expression wither into dismay, Minho decides that he is truly fine. The possibility of you running to Jisung stings a little less knowing you weren’t lying about not visiting with him.

You were in Incheon? You… didn’t reach out to him. Maybe you forgot his number.

Jisung tries to find peace with that answer but anger bubbles up in his abdomen. He hangs up the phone, running out of yet another building. Are you even in Jeju? He laughs bitterly. He thought you said it as a way of putting your walls up, but maybe you did mean it when you said you didn’t care if he died.

After everything? After all of that?

Jisung has to find out for himself.

-> end of act ii

skz masterlist

milestone celebration masterlist

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

Old Friends

Max Cooperman x f!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, oral female receiving, soft!dom max, sub!reader, underage drinking, underage smoking, getting high before sex, rough sex, uhhh overall very long and very smutty

summary: after being away at college for a year, your best friend Baja convinces you to go to a fourth of July party at your old friend Max’s house, but little do you know how much Max has changed since the last time you saw him…

word count: 4.5k

a/n: i just watched never back down 1 and 2 last night and omg the glow up evan had before filming the second one is not talked about enough. hope you enjoy my lil fourth of july gift <3 enjoy!!

~~~

“Do you think this looks good?” You ask as you walk out of the bathroom.

You’re at your best friend Baja’s house, the two of you are getting ready for a big fourth of July party. So far, you’ve tried on three different bikinis, none of them standing out to you. Sure, they fit you perfectly and show off the body you worked for, but they just weren’t right.

“Y/N, it looks amazing, like all the other ones too. What’s going on?” Baja answers, a frown on her face.

You met Baja when she transferred into your high school sophomore year, and you’ve been inseparable since. You were by her side through everything. The day her parents decided to call it quits, the day her parents got back together, even the day she started dating Ryan. You never liked him, she knew that. He was crazy, he loved to hurt people. So, when Jake Tyler moved to town and started talking to her, you were thrilled.

He was a decent guy, you enjoyed spending time with him. Plus, it was great seeing her happy again after what Ryan put her through. After they started dating Jake introduced you to his best friend Max and he often hung around with the three of you. Max was a sweet boy. He was chubby and adorable with his little camera. Though the two of you never hung out alone, you still considered him one of your closer friends.

The four of you were sad when high school ended. You had gotten into your dream college that happened to be in a nearby state. It was terrible having to say goodbye to your friends, but you all had phones so it wasn’t like contact would be completely lost. You and Baja would call for hours, sometimes falling asleep on the phone together. On holiday breaks when you’d come home you really only saw her and occasionally Jake, but you didn’t mind.

Tonight, however, is the first party you’re going to in your home town since high school. Since it’s your first summer break from college, Baja thinks it will be a good idea. You know she’s right, but you’re very nervous to see all your old classmates.

“What if people think I’ve gone downhill since we graduated?” You question your friend.

Baja laughs. “I can promise you no one will think that. Look at yourself y/n, you’re stunning.”

“I’m just worried it’ll go bad. I haven’t seen these people in over a year,” you reply with a sigh. You sit down next to her on her bed. “How many people do you think will be there?”

“Well like I said it’s at Max’s house, and his house is pretty big so probably a lot of people.”

“God, I haven’t even seen Max since last summer. How’s he doing?” You ask.

“Well, he’s changed a lot,” she answers with a small laugh. “Trust me when you see him, you’re going to be shocked.”

“What do you mean? Did he finally get taller or something?”

“Yeah, you could say that... But anyways, hurry up and finish picking your outfit we have to leave soon,” she replies, shooing you off the bed and towards her closet.

~~~

When the two of you arrive at Max’s house you feel the anxious butterflies eat away in your stomach. There’s already so many cars in the driveway and on the street. You see a few of your former classmates in the front yard, you hide your face. Baja laughs and finally parks the car. You look at her anxiously.

“Maybe this was a bad idea, how about we just go stay at your place instead?” You speak.

She shakes her head. “Nope, we’re already here. Just relax y/n, it’s going to be super fun.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to go fuck your boyfriend,” you reply with a frown.

“Hey, maybe you’ll find a guy and hook up too,” she says, a smirk on her face. “I bet tons of guys are gonna be all over you looking for a piece of that ass.”

You lightly slap her and groan. “Shut up.”

She only laughs and opens her door. “Come on, we’re already late.”

You groan and open yours too, preparing yourself for what’s coming. You follow Baja into the party, smiling at your old classmates. You recognize most of them, but there’s also new people you don’t think even went to school with you. Loud music flows throughout the house, you can practically feel the beat as you walk. Baja was right, in the few minutes you’ve been inside you’ve already noticed multiple guys checking you out. It makes you wish you worse something more than just jean shorts and a coverup over your bathing suit.

The two of you stop in the kitchen and Baja pours you a shot. You take it without saying anything, it’ll help you with your nerves. The familiar warmth fills your stomach and chest, it feels good. You see Jake approching and you smile, it’s been a few months since the last time you talked. He looks the exact same.

“What’s up y/n? How you been?” He asks after greeting Baja with a kiss.

“Pretty good, how about you?” You reply.

“Amazing.”

“That’s cool, Baja said you were thinking about opening up your own gym soon, that’s great,” you mention, looking back at your best friend.

“I see word travels fast between the two of you,” he says, wrapping his arm around Baja’s shoulders. “But yeah, it’s just an idea right now. It was more Max’s idea actually, have you talked to him yet?”

You shake your head and notice the look Baja and Jake give each other. “I told her she’s gonna be surprised when she sees him.”

“Oh yeah, you should actually go find him and say hi,” Jake says with a smirk.

You look between them suspiciously. “Is this your subtle attempt to get me away so you can go fuck?”

“Yes, entirely, so go,” Baja answers with a laugh, pushing you lightly.

“I hate you,” you say as you begin to walk away from them.

“Love you too!” She exclaims, you don’t bother replying.

You wander through the house searching for Max. You forgot how big his house really was. Even the first floor will probably take you twenty minutes to search. A sigh leaves your lips, where would he be? You look through his living room, cringing at the sight of two girls making out on the couch, a swarm of guys watching and recording. He’s not there, thankfully. You go out to the back yard, so many people are in the pool. But that’s when you spot him.

Baja was right, you’re very surprised. He’s not at all like you remember him. The chubby nerd you once knew is gone and has been replaced by... this. He’s definitely grown a few inches, and his baby fat has been replaced by muscle. The boy who used to refuse taking off his shirt even at the beach is now standing tall, abs out for everyone to see. His hair is shorter and slightly curlier. You can see his sharp jawline from where you’re standing, it’s so prominent. You trail your eyes down his body, lingering on his v-line. You never thought in a million years you’d see Max Cooperman with a v-line and happy trail. You also never thought you’d stare at it so intently.

You shake the thoughts away and walk towards him. He’s still the same Max you knew, you can’t be thinking like this. You’re only a few feet away when he notices you, you can see his eyes light up. It makes you smile.

“Am I dreaming or is it really you y/n?” He asks.

“I could say the same thing about you,” you reply with a laugh as you embrace him in a short hug. “What did college do to you?”

“A lot honestly. I started working out a lot more, lost my fat and replaced it with these guns,” he answers, flexing his biceps.

You laugh again. “At least it hasn’t changed your personality, you still staying behind the scenes?”

“Yeah, I’m always going to be the camera man. How about you though? I bet you’re the most talked about girl on your campus,” he says with a smirk. “I mean seriously wow you look great.”

You can’t help the small blush that appears on your cheeks. “I wouldn’t know, I sorta keep to myself. I mean I go to parties sometimes but most of my time is spent keeping up with my classes.”

“I’m glad college hasn’t changed your personality either. Still the quiet girl during the week days and the party animal on weekends?”

“God no. I was way worse back then. I haven’t gotten shit faced since that party at Baja’s a year or two ago,” you answer.

“I remember that, you threw up all over the backseats of my car,” he laughs.

You cover your face in embarrassment. “Don’t remind me.”

“And remember how I had to carry you in? You were telling me how sad you were to still be a virgin, you asked if Jean from my old gym could do you,” he continues, his laughter only getting louder.

“Stop it,” you say. Your face is so hot, you probably look like a tomato.

Max is about to continue, but a girl comes up to him and laches on to his arm. You don’t know why it makes that unsettling feeling start in your stomach again. You aren’t jealous, he’s like your brother for God’s sake. At least, that’s what you keep having to tell yourself. She gives you a side glance, as if she’s trying to make you feel bad for talking to Max. It almost makes you laugh. She looks familiar, but you can’t put a name to her face.

“You said you’d come swim with me,” she says to him. “Come on.”

Max raises his eyebrows at you before looking back at the girl. “Sorry, just catching up with an old friend. You remember y/n right? We used to go to school together.”

She looks at you again and gasps. “Little y/n? I couldn’t even recognize you, you’ve certainly... changed.”

“Thanks,” you reply. You don’t want to stand here any longer. “I’ll let you guys get back to your swimming, it was nice talking to you Max.”

You give them a smile and turn around, you’re going to try to find Baja and Jake again, hopefully they’re done fucking by now. But before you can even take a step Max grabs your wrist, preventing you from leaving. You look back at him over your shoulder, the girl next to him looks pissed, he doesn’t seem to care though because his eyes are locked on you.

“How about after this we go hot box my car? You know, like we used to?’ He suggests.

“I’d love to,” you say. The girl looks furious, it makes you happy. “See you in a bit.”

He grins and let's go of your wrist, finally giving his attention back to the girl on his arm. You walk back towards his house, your hearts racing. Since when did Max Cooperman make your heart race? You look over your shoulder again when you’re at his back doors and much to your surprise he’s already looking at you. You quickly look away, what’s going on?

~~~

Max finds you after about a half hour and the two of you make your way into his garage, weed in hand. Thankfully, no one’s in the garage. Even though it’s not your weed, you’d hate to have to share with a bunch of other people. He unlocks his car and opens the passenger side for you, you chuckle and push him away but get inside anyway. He quickly gets in the driver's side and starts to unpack all his stuff.

You watch as he packs the bowl effortlessly. He used to struggle with it to the point that he’d ask you or Jake to do it for him. Now though, he gets it done within minutes. He offers you the first hit and you gladly accept, taking the bowl and lighter in your hands instantly. You light it and take a big hit, passing the bowl to Max while it’s still lit. Your lungs burn a bit, but you don’t mind. You blow the smoke out in one long breath, filling up the car with the stench of weed.

“That’s some good shit,” you say as Max takes his hit.

He nods and hands the bowl back to you when he’s done. “Stole it from my dad, he’s gets it from some high end dealer.”

“No shit?” You say before taking your second hit.

“Yeah, it’s great.”

You blow out the smoke for a second time and hand the bowl back to him. “I already feel it, God damn.”

“It’s pretty strong, you should wait before taking another hit. Unless it’s a small one. I’d hate for you to throw up in my car again,” he replies. You scoff and push his shoulder, making him break out into laughter. You can’t help but join in.

You feel fantastic. Perfect even. You let your head fall back against the headrest, your whole body feeling lighter. You close your eyes, a big smile on your lips. Max starts to talk again, but you don’t bother listening. You're too caught up in this amazing feeling. He taps your shoulder after a few seconds though and you sigh, tingles shooting throughout your whole body at the simple contact.

“Y/N are you listening?” He asks.

You roll your head to the side so you’re looking at him. “Touch me again, it feels so good.”

“What?”

“My body... it feels like it needs to be touched. Did you give me like Viagra weed?” You question.

“I don’t know does sativa usually make you horny?” He laughs.

You shrug. “Maybe. I haven’t smoked in a minute. Can you put on the radio or something?”

He nods and puts his keys in the ignition, turning them so the radio starts to play. You sit up and start to flick through the channels before settling on a relaxing song. You sigh and lean back, your head facing Max again. You watch as he takes another hit, he looks sexy doing it. You shake your head at the thought, Max is one of your best friends you can’t call him sexy, even if it’s in your own head.

When he’s done, he puts the bowl down and leans back. He turns his head to you and your eyes meet. Your heart rate increases. He has this look in his eyes, one you never thought you’d see from him. His eyes are so dark, so full of lust. You swallow but can’t bear to break the eye contact.

“Who was that girl?” You ask, breaking the silence but not the tension. “She your girlfriend or something?”

“No, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize her. That was Jenifer, you know, the one who used to make fun of me,” he answers.

“So, why was she hanging on to you like that?”

He smirks. “What are you jealous?”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” you reply, deflecting his question.

“And that doesn’t answer mine.”

You look away for a split second and shrug. “Should I be?”

“I’d like you to be. But she’s nothing, just one of the many girls from this town who’ve suddenly become interested in me after I decided to change up my looks,” he answers.

You feel ashamed. Are you one of those girls now? You can admit, if Max still looked how he did before you don’t know if you’d be having these feelings for him. Part of you believes you would though, just because of how flirty he is, he’s been like that since the two of you met all those years ago. You look down at your lap, not knowing what else to do.

“Did I say something wrong?” He asks after a few seconds.

You shake your head. “No, of course not. I just... I don’t want you to think I’m one of those girls too. I mean am I really attracted to you now? Yes. But I’ve always been attracted to your personality too. I’m sorry, you just are so fucking hot now it’s hard but-”

You’re cut off by Max’s lips crashing on to yours. You forget about what you were saying and kiss him back instantly, your hands moving up to grip his soft curls. The kiss is rough and full of pent-up sexual tension. You part your lips and let his tongue roam your mouth, it makes your body ignite. One of his hands moves down your body, eventually resting on your hip. The other one cups your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin gently.

He pulls back after a minute and the two of you stare into each other's eyes once again. Your breathing is heavy, your cheeks are flushed, and your lips are swollen. You haven’t been kissed like that in a long time.

“Sorry, I should’ve asked first, but I just needed to show you that you aren’t anything like those other girls. I’ve always wanted you y/n, I just never thought I had a chance,” he explains softly.

You twirl one of his curls around one of your pointer fingers and chuckle. “Oh Max, if you asked me out I most likely would’ve said yes.”

“I didn’t want to ruin the friendship, but at this point since we don’t even talk that much I don’t care. I want you y/n, so bad. Even if it’s just for tonight, even if we never talk again after, let me have you right now,” he whispers.

“I’m yours for the taking,” you reply and before you have a second to think he crashes his lips to yours again.

The kiss is even rougher this time. His hands roam your body freely, cupping your breasts, your ass, everything. You let him pull you over the center console and into his lap, though the two of you laugh at the slight struggle. It’s a tight squeeze, but it works. You straddle him as the kiss continues, his hips grinding up into yours. You slightly moan at the feeling of his bulge brushing against your clothed clit. Your arms wrap around his neck and you hold him tight, the feeling of your bodies against each other sending tingles throughout your entire body.

You break the kiss after a couple minutes to remove your coverup, your bikini now the only thing covering your breasts. Max smirks and lifts his hands up to the back of your neck, pulling the string that’s holding up your bikini until it comes undone. He does the same with the other string and throws your bikini on to the passenger seat. He doesn’t try to hide his stare; it makes your face heat up again.

Before you can say anything, he leans forward and takes one of your nipples in his mouth. You sigh from the pleasure it gives you. Your body falls back against the steering wheel, luckily not hitting the horn. You feel his tongue swirl around your nipple, it makes you throw your head back. He moves between both of your nipples for a few minutes before moving on to kiss and suck the rest of your breasts.

“Can we move to the back?” He asks suddenly, his lips still on your skin.

“Yeah,” you answer breathlessly before climbing off him and between the two front seats to get to the back.

He’s too big to climb through, so he gets out of the car and goes through one of the back doors instead. He lays you down on the seats and continues his kisses on your breasts. He trails his kisses down your stomach, your navel, until he’s at the point where your skin ends and your jean shorts start. Your eyes meet his and he gives you a smirk that sends warmth to the pit of your stomach. He unbuttons your shorts and you lift your hips to help him pull them down your body, leaving you only in your bikini bottoms.

He presses soft kisses to your inner thighs, making the wet spot in your bottoms even more noticeable. You move up so half your back is pressed against the car door, mostly to give Max more room, but also because you want to watch him. He sucks on the skin of your thighs, leaving behind a few hickeys as proof. His hands wrap around your thighs as well and he pulls them up so that your legs are bent and his head is now stuck between them.

His hands then move to the two strings on your hips that are holding your bathing suit bottoms in place. He pulls them at the same time until they both come undone, then he takes off your body, leaving you completely naked. His eyes are on yours as he moves his head down and finally connects his mouth to your soaking cunt.

You moan, your head hitting the car door as you throw it back. He licks and sucks your clit perfectly; he’s definitely done this before. When he moves his tongue down to your entrance, teasingly moving it in and out, his nose brushes your clit. Your thighs squeeze around his head, you lift your hips for more pressure. It feels so good, too good. Only five minutes go by and you can feel your orgasm approaching, you pull at his hair.

“Max- you should stop before I- before I cum,” you say, your breath ragged.

“Don’t you want to?” He asks after lifting his head.

“I want this to last longer, I don’t want it to be over yet,” you answer.

He smiles. “Who said it would be over after you cum once?”

Before you can reply he moves his head back down and continues his precious licks. You come undone within three minutes. He doesn’t stop, even as you cum. Your orgasm takes over your whole body, it makes you feel euphoric.

When he’s sure you're finished, he wipes his mouth on your thigh and moves back so he’s sitting on one of the seats. He removes his bathing suit before grabbing your ankles and pulling your body so you’re laid down on the seats. He climbs over you and meets your eyes for the hundredth time tonight.

“Are you on the pill?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it okay if I cum in you or do you still want me to pull out?”

Your stomach does a flip at his words. He’s the first guy to ask that after finding out you’re on the pill. You’ve never adored anyone more than him in this moment.

“You can do it inside,” you reply.

Max nods before pressing his lips to yours. You can taste yourself on his lips, it only makes you more turned on. You wrap your arms around his back, holding him close to you as he starts to rub his dick between your soaked folds. You bite down on your lips as his tip rubs against your clit, it feels incredible. But you want him inside you more. He must know this, because he positions himself at your entrance after a few seconds and starts to slowly move inside you.

He starts off with slow thrusts, helping you adjust to his size. Even with his slow pace you can’t help but bite down on his shoulder, the feeling of him inside you making your toes curl. Once you give him the okay, he starts to move faster, and after minutes he’s fucking you hard. You’re a moaning mess, your nails scratching down his back as he pounds into you harshly. Each thrust makes your eyes practically roll back into your skull, they’re so hard, so deep.

The air inside the car is warm, the windows fogged up. You know if anyone were to walk into the garage, they’d see it shaking. You almost scream when he starts to suck your neck, he finds your sweet spot quickly and settles on it. You touch his now sweaty curls and close your eyes, this is the best sex you’ve ever had, you don’t want it to ever end.

“Baby, I want you to ride me till I cum,” he whispers, his hot breath on your ear. “Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

He moves your position so that he’s sitting and you're straddling him, like you did in the front seat. You don’t waste a second to begin moving up, down, back, and forth on his dick, riding him the way you know guys like it. You watch his head fall back on the seat, your name leaving his lips in a voice that almost makes you cum right then and there. His hands grip your ass tight; you love the way it stings.

You kiss his lips, his jaw, his neck, each sound that leaves him a reward. Your second orgasm is approaching, you feel the tightening in your stomach. You hold back though; you want to feel him finish before you. Thankfully, your silent request comes sooner than you thought.

“Just like that, don’t stop, I’m gonna cum,” he mumbles. His eyes are closed and his head is still resting on the seat, you swear he’s the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. “I’m so close- so fucking close.”

“Cum in me baby,” you say, and he does.

The feeling of his dick pulsing inside you is the last thing you can take, you let your orgasm take over too, the both of you cumming at the same time. You’re out of breath but you keep riding him until you’re positive he’s completely done. Once he is, you get off him and fall back on to the seat next to him. You’re sweaty and tired. You open the door next to you and breathe in the fresh air, it’s refreshing.

“Now two of your fluids have been on my backseat, that’s cool right?” Max says to break the silence.

You laugh. “Can you shut the fuck up?”

“Can I not be happy that your vomit and your cum has been where we’re sitting?”

“Please stop before more of my vomit is on your seats.”

“We should go swim, the fireworks are gonna start soon,” he mentions. You look at him and see he’s already redressing. He meets your eyes and pauses. “Unless you want to stay here which is fine too.”

“No, no, I want to go I just need a second, that was a workout,” you reply.

He grins and hands you back your clothing items, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Whatever you want y/n.”

~~~

The two of you are in the pool when Baja and Jake finally find you.

“So, you guys are acquainted again?” Baja asks as she lowers herself into the pool.

You and Max share a look before you answer her. “Yeah, you can say that.”

[sequinsmile-x]

Open Your Eyes Into Mine

Five times Emily and Aaron don't kiss, and one time they do.

-x-

Hi besties,

This is for the lovely @eobangingwhen who deserves the world <3

Hope you all enjoy this. As always...the feelings took over in the middle.

-x-

Words: 5.9k

Warnings: Lina said 'there are no warnings, just sad.'

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

One

He’d intrigued her from the moment she saw him. 

On the surface, he was just like everyone else who passed through her mother’s house - sensible and serious in a slightly ill-fitting suit, but something about him made him stand out to her. He was handsome, younger than all of his colleagues, and the rare times she’d seen him smile, dimples carved out deep in his cheeks, she’d felt her stomach flip. She had this instinctual need to get to know him more, to know more than the fact he was from Virginia and had recently broken up with his high school sweetheart, something deep in her gut pulling her towards him, and she found herself making excuses to spend time with him instead of actively avoiding him as she did with most other people who passed through this house. 

It’s how she finds herself standing in a corner with him at a party her mother was throwing, ignoring all the mingling people she knew she should be talking to, all of her focus on him and trying to ruffle him up as he worked. 

“It’s like looking at those guards in London,” she comments hiding her smile behind the rim of her glass when she sees one of the corners of his lips twitch, “Maybe I should get you one of those tall hats.” 

He chokes on a laugh and clears his throat, shaking his head as he smiles widely at her, “Miss Prentiss, I’m trying to work.” 

Emily rolls her eyes, “How many times do I have to ask you to call me Emily? Agent Hotchner.” 

He smiles again, the back and forth about his insistence to not use her first name they’d been sharing since they’d met hanging in the air between them, “Miss-”

“Emily.” 

She tenses, her smile slipping off of her face as she turns to look at her mother, her grip on her champagne glass tightening, “Mother.” 

“You can’t just…hang out here with the security all evening,” Elizabeth says, her face pinched together with irritation, “There are people here who want to see you. They haven’t seen you since you started at Yale.” 

Emily resists rolling her eyes, her lips pressed tightly together before she paints on a fake smile, “I hardly know anyone here.”

Elizabeth clears her throat, her eyes flicking back and forth between Emily and Aaron, “That’s the point of mingling, Emily. To get to know people. I’m sure Agent Hotchner can do without your charming presence for a while.” 

Emily feels her smile falter, her mother’s barbed words hurting more than she cared to admit even to herself. She hates that even after all this time she can affect her, that no matter how much she prepared herself her mother somehow managed to sneak under the defences she’d helped build with her indifference and the expectations Emily could never meet.  

It’s over in a flash, her smile fixing itself back on her face before she downs the last of her champagne and nods, “Of course,” she says, her eyes flicking to Aaron, something she can’t quite read in his eyes, “I’m just going to go to the bathroom first.” 

She sneaks into a side room as soon as she’s out of the ballroom, her breath stuttering in her chest the moment she’s alone. She closes her eyes and tries to pull herself back together, and she suddenly starts to count down the seconds until she’s back in New Haven and far away from here. 

There’s a knock on the door and she groans, her hand against her forehead, “Mom, I just need-”

“It’s me,” Aaron’s voice cuts over her, the door opening just enough for him to poke his head around,  “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 

She’s nodding before she even thinks about it, her smile tight as he steps into the room and closes the door behind him, “How did you know where I was?” 

“I saw you come in here,” he stands a few feet away from her, his hands crossed in front of him, standing in the same pose had been in the ballroom, and it makes warmth spread in her chest, his presence somehow making her feel better. She watches as he furrows his brow, clearly trying to figure out what he wants to say, “I’m sorry she treats you that way. You deserve more than that.” 

A sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob pushes itself up her throat so quickly it hurts, her ribs aching with it as she crosses her arms over her chest to protect herself, “It’s okay. She’s always been like that.” 

His frown deepens and somehow he’s closer, and she isn’t sure if he’s moved or if she has, but she has to grip her arms to stop herself from reaching out and soothing the deep line between his brows. 

“That doesn’t make it better, Emily.” 

Maybe it’s the way he says her name, or even the fact it’s the first time he’s said it, but she feels like she’s burning from the inside out, her cheeks so warm she’s sure they’re red. “I know,” she chokes out, wondering why she feels so affected, why her voice croaks as he steps even closer, “But it’s just one of those things.” 

His smile is sad, his dimples barely making an appearance as their eyes meet, “Well, if it helps, I’m always happy to be in your charming presence.” 

She laughs, her first real one all night, and she presses her lips together to try and contain her smile. She tries not to think about the fact he’s cheered her up so quickly, that he seemingly knows how to do so, instead she nods, her tongue peeking out to wet her lower lip.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says quietly, her gaze drifting down to his lips before she meets his eyes again, only slightly surprised to find he’s looking at her in the same way she knows she’s looking at him. 

She leans in, her eyes drifting shut as he does too, and she feels his breath skip over her face. Before their lips touch there’s a knock on the door, both of them jumping and putting space between them as one of Aaron’s colleagues asks if he’s in there, and Aaron clears his throat before he responds, throwing Emily an apologetic smile before he’s out of the room, leaving her feeling strangely cold. 

She touches her lips, the ghost of his kiss pressed against them even though it had never happened, and she rolls her eyes at herself, “Get it together, Emily.” 

She shakes off his apologies the next morning, her smile soft as she tells him he has nothing to be sorry for, and they don’t talk of it again. By the time she goes back to college, she’s forgotten about the almost kiss, the moment that could have been.

She doesn’t think about it, doesn’t let it cross her mind, right up until she finds herself standing in his office years later.

___

Two 

He feels pleasantly buzzed, the third scotch Dave had pressed into his hand with a wink and a pat on his shoulder tipping him into what Aaron would admit was tipsy. 

He sighs as he looks down at his left hand, at the paler band of skin where he’d worn his wedding ring for years, and he takes another sip of his drink. Even though he’d accepted that things were over with Haley, that his family was broken, signing the papers had hit him harder than he thought it would. The team had convinced him to go out for drinks after work, their attempts to get him to come with them ranging from Penelope’s bribery with cupcakes she’d bake him, to Emily’s gentle teasing that he owed her a drink from when they’d last gone for drinks, her smile kind and full of something he didn’t want to name. 

He blows out a breath and finishes his drink, placing the glass down on the bar. He turns to Dave, “I’m going to go out and get some air,” he says, and Dave raises his eyebrow at him, “I won’t leave, I promise. It’s warm in here.” 

Dave nods and Aaron smiles at him before he heads outside, sighing as the fresh air hits him. He steps into the alleyway for some privacy and he leans against the wall, his head thunking back against it as he tries to picture what his life would look like going forward. How he’d have even less time with his son, how the person he’d loved for more than half his life would no longer be his partner in everything. He feels his shoulders slump, the weight of everything from the last few months pressing down on them. 

“Hotch? Are you okay?” 

His eyes fly open at the sound of Emily’s voice and he stands up straight. She’s standing just a few feet away, her eyebrows pinched together with concern, her arms crossed over her chest as she shivers, the cool air hitting her since she’d left her jacket inside. 

“We aren’t at work, Emily. You can call me Aaron,” he says, avoiding the question, and he ignores how the smile that flits across her face makes him feel. It’s a call back to a moment that happened so long ago it might as well have happened to other people, something he can barely link together in his head with the woman standing in front of him. It was something frozen in time, a second where everything could have changed if they’d had just a little more time alone. 

“Okay then, Aaron,” she says, smiling again as she emphasises his name, “Are you okay?” 

He chuckles humourlessly and sighs, shrugging as he tries to find the answer, “I don’t know. It’s…hard. I wanted to raise Jack with a family and now…now he comes from a broken home.” 

It was something he’d wanted to avoid, and it was part of the reason they’d waited to have Jack. So Aaron could be more established in his career and be as present as possible, but it hadn’t worked out that way and he wasn’t sure he’d ever rid himself of the guilt. 

“I can’t imagine how hard that feels,” she says, joining him in leaning against the wall, her arm brushing against his, “But I do know how it feels to be raised by parents who stayed together because it was the ‘right thing to do’,” she presses her lips together and sighs, “They divorced the second I went to college and it was hard. And they weren’t very good at hiding how much they hated each other for years before that,” she shrugs and laughs humourlessly, “It doesn’t take an FBI profiler to figure out that’s why I always end up looking for love in the wrong places,” she looks up at him, her eyes wide and honest and he feels his stomach flip again, “Jack has two parents who love him enough to put him first. He’ll grow up knowing that. He’s a lucky kid.” 

He didn’t know that’s what he’d needed to hear until that moment, but it doesn’t surprise him that she apparently had. Her uncharacteristic openness, her willingness to share something she obviously hadn’t spoken about in years just to make him feel better, loosening something in his chest. 

“Thank you, Emily.” 

She smiles, wide and bright and beautiful, “You’re welcome. Aaron.” 

Later, he’d ask himself why he did it, why the way she smiles at him draws him in the way it does, but he leans in, closing the gap between them that was smaller than ever. She sucks in a breath as she pulls back before their lips touch, her smile achingly kind as she sinks her teeth into her lower lip.

“Aaron-”

“Oh god,” he says, his eyes wide as he clears his throat and steps back from her, “I’m so sorry. That should never-”

“Aaron,” she says firmly, cutting him off, “It’s not that I wouldn’t want you, you know that,” she says, coming the closest either of them had ever come to addressing that moment between them almost a lifetime ago, “I just won’t ever be someone's consolation prize.” 

His eyes go wide and he shakes his head, “Oh no, that’s not…you could never be…”

She smiles sympathetically at him and reaches out for his hand, squeezing it for a second before she drops it, the touch of her skin against his almost electric, “I’m not saying no,” she presses her lips together to suppress a smile, “I’m just saying maybe not on the day you signed divorce papers.” 

He laughs, the sound surprising even him, “Yeah, okay,” he says, “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

They’re silent for a moment. Both of them smile at each other, a silent promise passing between them, and she points over her shoulder to the bar, “Come on, you still owe me that drink.” 

He nods and follows her out of the alley, embarrassment still churning ever so slightly in his gut, “I think after that I owe you two.”

She laughs as they walk side by side, “Well, I won’t argue with that.” 

___

Three

She could no longer pretend she wasn’t in love with him.

It was something she’d been denying to herself for a long time, telling herself it was nothing more than an inappropriate crush on her boss, but all of that went away the moment she saw the blood stain on his living room floor. The panic she’d felt was overwhelming and she’d never felt more grateful for her ability to compartmentalise, that she’d been able to hold herself together until she got home that evening, encouraged to do so by him after she’d held her vigil at his bedside long after he’d sent Haley and Jack away. 

Emily had cried the moment she’d locked her apartment door behind her, her chest caving in on itself as she came to terms with the fact that if things had been even slightly different she could have lost him before she ever had him. 

She’s grateful when he lets her look after him. When he doesn’t question her driving him to and from work even after he’s cleared, their poorly covered conversation about his first case back still echoing around in her head weeks later. 

“He has Tommy. He’s not alone.” 

He invites her over to his after they get back from a case and she accepts gladly, happy to spend as much time with him as possible. She doesn’t miss how his eyes linger on the now clean carpet when they sit together on the couch, empty Chinese food containers on the coffee table. She could still see the blood stain every time she blinked, a flash of one of the worst moments of her life that wouldn’t go away even though there was no trace of it left, the professional cleaners she’d hired to remove it worth every dollar she’d spent. 

“Do you have any plans this weekend?” He asks, barely covering a wince as he settles back into the couch. She groans in response and he smiles at her, the familiar flip in her stomach no longer a surprise. 

“My mom is in town,” she says, huffing as she settles against the back of the couch, “So unless we get a case I’ll be having lunch with her on Saturday,” she scrunches up her nose, “Think you can do something to make sure we’re working?” 

He chuckles, “Short of becoming a serial killer myself I’m not sure there is,” he placates, “But maybe we could think of something else to get you out of it?” 

It’s the lightest he’s seemed in weeks, the heaviness that had settled over him ever since he’d sent Haley and Jack away lifting, and her heart feels like it’s being squeezed, pressed out of place as her love for him takes up more space in her chest. 

“What do you have in mind?” 

“My physical therapist keeps suggesting I take up running to try to gain back some of the fitness I’ve lost,” he says, his smile flickering into a brief frown before he shakes it off, “I was thinking of going for the first time on Saturday at around lunchtime if you’d like to go with me.”

His smile turns shy and it makes him look impossibly young, and she sees a glimpse of the boy that Haley would have fallen in love with. It drives her to say yes even though she hates cardio, the opportunity to spend even more time with him something she would grab with both hands. 

“Someone will have to make sure you don’t push yourself too hard,” she says, smiling coyly, “So I guess I’m in.” 

He laughs, which he hasn’t done in weeks, and she has to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling too much. It was fast becoming her favourite sound, the almost goofiness of it at complete odds with the rest of him, and she wants to do everything she could to make him laugh as often as possible. 

“You will have to go easy on me,” he says, shifting so their shoulders are touching, turning his head to look at her, “I’m still not up to full strength.”

She hums, “Of course,” she raises her eyebrow at him, “But I won’t let you win.” 

“Now it’s a race all of a sudden?” He asks and she laughs, her eyes flicking to his lips, and she knows in any other circumstances she’d lean in and kiss him, that this could finally be their moment. 

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game, honey.”

The levity between them dies the moment she lets the term of endearment slip free and she curses herself internally for tripping them over the line they’d so delicately walked for months now. He sighs and reaches for her hand, “Em-”

“No, it’s okay,” she says, swallowing thickly to push down the emotion she won’t let herself feel until she’s home, “Not now. I know.” 

“I couldn’t be everything you deserve right now,” he says, squeezing her hand, letting it linger around hers, the way his fingers linked between hers almost cruel in its perfection, “I wouldn’t want to risk this because I wasn’t ready.” 

She nods, hating that tears gather in her eyes, and she clears her throat, “I know, it’s okay,” she repeats, squeezing his hand before she lets go and stands up, desperate to put some space between them so she can gather herself, “It’s probably time I get going.” 

He shakes his head and stands up so quickly he winces, the movement pulling at his still healing wounds, “No, stay-”

“I’ll see you on Saturday, okay? Just text me where you want to meet.” She says, and she stares at him, hoping that he hears what she isn’t saying, that he won’t actually make her beg. He nods and the relief is palpable, carving a hole in her chest as she grabs her purse and turns back to look at him, “Bye Aaron.”

He sighs, his hands in fists at his sides so he doesn’t reach out for her, both of them held back the knowledge now simply wasn’t their time. 

“Goodbye, Emily.”

She cries when she gets home and Sergio climbs into her lap, his purrs and headbutts doing nothing to help ease the ache in her chest. 

___

Four 

She’d been acting strangely for days. 

He couldn’t put his finger on it, couldn’t work out why she was suddenly avoiding him after weeks of them getting closer and closer. He’d been about to ask her out on a date, finally in a place where he felt like he could be what she deserved, but then she started to pull away from him, a tightness in her smile that scared him for a reason he couldn’t figure out. He’d asked her what was wrong but she’d lied and said everything was fine, and he was convinced she’d figured out that single fathers weren’t her thing and she didn’t know how to let him down gently after years of build-up. 

When he finds out she’d thrown up at a crime scene his concern only increases. It wasn’t like her, and they’d seen far worse over the last few years without her even blinking an eye. 

He’s distracted, unable to focus on pulling the final bits of the profile together, a heavy weight in his gut that tells him there is something they do not know. He spots Emily out of the window of his office and sees the tension in her shoulders, a shiftiness she’s covering less and less as the days pass, and his curiosity wins out. He opens his office door and calls out for her. 

“Prentiss, my office.” 

By the time she makes it up the stairs, looking strangely dangerous in her all black outfit and tight shoulders, he’s closed the blinds to give them as much privacy as possible. 

“Is everything okay?” She asks she steps past him, her hands grasped together in front of her, her cuticles torn to shreds. 

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” he says, closing the door and turning to look at her, his concern only heightening when her eyes go wide, “What’s going on Em?” 

She frowns, crossing her arms over her chest in some kind of defiance as she tightens her jaw, “What do you mean?” 

“You aren’t acting like yourself,” he says, stepping towards her, the rock in his belly getting heavier when she steps back, “Derek said you threw up at the scene.” 

He watches as she sucks in a deep breath, her lips pressed together as she visibly folds in on herself, “He shouldn’t have told you that.” 

“He’s worried,” he says, stepping closer again, relieved when she doesn’t move this time, “We all are. What’s going on?” He asks, reaching out for her, his hand on her elbow, “We can help.” 

Her eyes go wide like he’s just threatened her, panic and fear and something he can’t name flashing across her face as she shakes her head, wrenching herself from him, “No. Nothing is wrong. Why won’t you believe me?” 

“Because you’re lying to me, sweetheart.” 

He half shouts it, and it hangs between them. Thick and cloying in the air, the only sound her heavy breathing as she shakes her head, desperate in a way he’s never seen. They stare at each other and time drags out around them like syrup until she starts moving, her hands on his shoulders as she leans in to kiss him and he moves out of the way, her lips catching his cheek instead, her devastated gasp brushing past his ear. He holds her in place, his hands on her waist as he closes his eyes and breathes her in. 

She tries to pull away but he doesn’t let her, his grip tighter as they stand there in silence, her cheek warm against his, damp with tears he won’t acknowledge and knows she won’t either. He wanted her so much it hurt. He loved her in a way he didn’t think was possible after Haley and he wanted everything with Emily, but he didn’t want whatever was happening right now, whatever she was keeping from him, to break what they’d both been waiting so long for. 

“Not like this, Em,” he says, the two of them still standing cheek to cheek, an awful dance made of defiance and sidestepping that he worries they won’t make it back from this time, “Just tell me what’s wrong and I can help you.” 

She’s silent and tense in his arms before she shakes her head, her lips stamped against his cheek again, something she lingers in before she pulls away, “I’m sorry.” 

She’s gone before he can say anything, out of his office and back in the main bullpen, and he tells himself that he’ll try again later. That he’ll go to hers and stand at her door until she has no choice but to talk to him. 

He doesn’t get the chance. 

He stands on the other side of a closed door from the rest of the team as they cry over her untimely death. He barely holds it together, the tears in his eyes real even though what they were all mourning wasn’t, and he hates himself for not pushing any further, for not saving her from herself and from this. 

When he gets home that night he doesn’t sleep. He sits on the couch she’d sat on with him countless times, his eyes fixed on the spot on the floor where he almost died, and he wishes he’d let her kiss him. 

___

Five

She winces as she lowers herself into the chair next to her hospital bed, curses in more than one language aimed at her physical therapist as she gets as comfortable as she can, every muscle in her body screaming at her. 

She felt like crap, which, she thought, was rather fitting for a dead person.

She closes her eyes and leans her head back, desperately trying to pretend she was anywhere else, that she’d made different decisions and hadn’t ended up here. Dead to almost everyone who knew her with the exception of the man she loves and her best friend. 

JJ had been to visit a couple of days ago, her smile shaky as she explained what she knew of the plan, that she’d be back to pick her up and they’d take the jet to wherever she was going together. She told Emily that Aaron could come before she was moved, that he was insistent on doing so even though it wasn’t advised, a glint in JJ’s blue eyes that lets her know she knows about the shifting dynamics of their relationship. The relationship that Emily was now sure she’d never get to have. Her future torn to pieces by her past in a way she felt stupid for not anticipating. 

There’s a light knock on the door and she calls out that it’s okay to come in, sure it’s one of the nurses who always looked at her a little too kindly, and she continues to sit with her eyes closed. 

“Em?” 

She moves so quickly at the sound of his voice that it hurts, pain lancing through her body as her abdomen burns, stitches and skin pulling at each other in a way that makes her cry out, “Fuck.” 

“Take it easy,” Aaron says, already by her side, his touch gentle as he rests his hand on her arm and perches on the edge of the bed next to her, his knees knocking against hers, “You’re okay. Just breathe through it.” 

She nods and places her hand over his on her arm, his skin impossibly warm, and she does as he’s said, breathing along with him until the pain fades back down to a bearable level. She focuses on him instead. The sound of his breathing. The touch of his hand. The smell of his cologne. She stores it all away, like an animal stocking up for winter, not wanting to be starved of him for how ever long she is away. 

“Sorry,” she eventually breathes out, her smile weak when she finally opens her eyes, “Hi.” 

“Hi,” he replies, smiling softly at her, a sadness he can’t hide from her lingering in his eyes, “And you have nothing to apologise for.” 

“JJ said she tried to talk you out of coming,” she says, her eyebrow raised and he shrugs, a nonchalance to it they both know he’s faking, “You could be putting yourself in danger.”

“I had to see you before you left,” he says as if it’s that simple, as if he’d tear the world apart just for her, “I…” he clears his throat, his jaw tight as he clenches his teeth, “I didn’t want the last time I saw you to be the last time.” 

She knew enough to understand he’d seen her during the worst of it, and she nods, pressing her lips together to try and stop herself from crying. She almost apologises again, but stops herself, not sure what it would achieve even if he accepted it, so she squeezes his hand with as much strength as she can muster. 

“I’m glad you’re here.” 

He smiles, one of his dimples making itself known, “I’m glad I’m here too.” 

She doesn’t ask about the team because she isn’t sure she could take the answer, the awareness that she’d caused them pain too much to bear, “How’s Jack?” 

He clears his throat, “He’s good. He asked about you,” he says, and she frowns, confusion pushing its way past the medication she’s on, “I didn’t tell him that you’d…he thinks you’re on a secret mission,” he laughs humourlessly, “I thought it would be easier to explain rather than undo everything he knows about death when you come back.” 

The guilt washes over her, how her desire to protect one little boy years ago had now impacted another and she knows if she wasn’t sitting down she’d collapse with it, “Aaron.” 

“Hey,” he says gently as he leans forward, his forehead against hers, his hand in her hair as he scratches at her scalp, “None of that. You did everything you thought was right,” he says, pulling back just enough to stamp a kiss against her forehead before he presses his against hers again, “I’m not angry at you. You’re the bravest person I know. And when you come back, we’ll figure everything out.” 

She doesn’t pull away, instead, she watches as his gaze drops to her lips, and she wonders what would happen if one of them closed the gap, if the other would stop them this time. Neither of them tries, content to sit there in the promises she hopes aren’t empty, a future of maybes and hope wrapped around them like a threadbare blanket. 

“Can you stay a while? 

He nods, his forehead knocking against hers, “I can stay as long as you want me to.” 

She doesn’t know how to tell him that she wants him to stay forever.

___

+One 

She felt giddy. 

She thinks even a year ago she would have felt ridiculous for it. That she should have chastised herself for acting like a teenage girl in love, but she couldn’t bring herself to, because she was entirely sure that after everything she deserved this. 

That they deserved this. 

She doesn’t let go of Aaron’s hand as she leads him to her apartment door, instead digging through her purse one-handed because the idea of letting go of him now she has him is almost absurd. 

He laughs at her, his smile hidden in her hair as they come to a stop outside of her apartment, his chest warm and full of love, “Need some help, sweetheart?” 

She can’t help but smile as he holds her purse steady for her and she finds the keys easily, her thank you a smile that she throws at him as she lets them in. 

It had been a perfect first date. 

He’d shown up in one of his suits, missing his tie at her request, and a bunch of sunflowers in his hands, his smile shy as he admitted he asked the florist for cat-friendly flowers. He’d booked a table at a restaurant she’d idly mentioned once, long before she’d been sent to Paris, and it had taken all of her self-control to not tell him that she loves him then and there. 

Aaron had been her rock since she came home, content to just be her friend and confidant as she desperately tried to pull herself back together. To slip all the broken pieces of her life into place as she tried to get used to the new cracks that had appeared. He’d expected nothing from her other than her honesty, and after everything she knew she owed him that. In the end, it was she who asked him on a date, her smile coy and shy as she let him know one evening that she didn’t want to wait anymore. 

Part of her had expected him to kiss her on the spot, but he didn’t. Instead, he’d smiled and said he’d plan something, and it turned out he meant for the following evening, just as keen to finally be here as she was. 

A small part of both of them had worried it would be awkward. That there had been too much build-up over the years and that maybe they weren’t destined to be more than friends. They soon realised they needn’t have worried, dinner had been exactly like the countless ones they’d shared before only in a dimly lit restaurant as they held hands over the table. 

“Thank you for a lovely evening,” she says as she dumps her purse on her kitchen counter, smiling as she turns in his arms, only letting go of his hand so she can hook her arms around his neck. 

He smiles and places his hands on her lower back, pressing her closer to him, revelling in the fact he had her this close, that they had made it here, “No problem, Em. I’ll let you pay next time I promise.” 

She laughs, smiling widely at the memory of how they’d playfully argued over the bill in the restaurant. Eventually, she’d relented, aware of his desire to be a gentleman. “Next time? You’re going to take me on another date?” 

His smile gets wider at her playfulness, and if it hadn’t taken them this long to get here he’d say it almost felt too easy to be with her like this, “Another one,” he shrugs, “Or another 20.” 

She bites her lower lip as he pulls her even closer, her eyes flicking down to his lips before she meets his eyes again, “Or 50?”

He leans in, his breath skipping across her lips, “Or 100.”

When they kiss, it’s everything they’d both imagined and more. Something entirely new and coming home all at once. As if every awful thing they’d both been through since that first almost moment between them almost 20 years ago had been leading them to this. The path rocky and treacherous at times but worth every step.

She sighs contentedly as she pulls back, her hands on his cheeks as she rests her forehead against his, his palms wide and warm on her lower back and between her shoulder blades.

“You didn’t stop me this time,” she says, slightly breathless, her tongue peeking out to lick her lip and chase the taste of him. 

“You didn’t stop me either,” he replies, just as affected as she is before he leans in again, kissing her soundly, tasting the groan she releases from the source. When they break away this time he kisses the corner of her lips and then her cheek and then her nose, wholly unable to stop now he’d started, “Worth the wait?”

She chases his lips, catching them as he’s about to press them against her jaw, and she barely pulls back enough to speak. 

“Worth the wait.” 

[bordysbae]

can u do a luca blurb where there’s like an argument and it’s like luca and his gf vs someone else and it’s the two like sticking up for each other? i hope that makes sense

“a new side of you”

luca fantilli x f!reader

warning: profanity and underage drinking

despite the ending of frozen four not being what everyone was hoping, the boys still threw themselves a party as soon as they got back to michigan, just because of how far they had made it. it’s also a party to say their “formal” goodbyes to the seniors, and the boys who won’t be returning next year due to upcoming signings with the big league.

the party isn’t a rager, but it sure isn’t small either. there are people everywhere, but the only person you care to find is your boyfriend luca. you got caught up in a conversation with johnny while luca went to get another drink, not even realizing luca hadn’t come back in quite some time. you eventually find him in a conversation with one of his classmates. you’ve met the guy before but he’s nothing special. in your opinion he has a bland personality and thrives off of his daddy’s money, but since he’s friends with a few of the guys, you almost always see him at parties.

“jonah, hey!” you greet him, as luca wraps an arm around your shoulder.

“oh hey, y/n right?” jonah nods his head towards you as his form of addressing you.

“uh, yeah,” you say, annoyed by him already. you know he knows your name since you guys have met over five times, but he chooses to have a douche bag persona. “not like we haven’t met already” you mumble under your breath making luca chuckle.

“what’d you say?” jonah asks you, straightening his back. you look up from your cup at him, and chuckle at his new tough-boy stance.

“nothing, what were you guys talking about before i got here? i didn’t mean to interrupt,” you say in an attempt to change the topic.

“no, fucking tell me what you said,” jonah blurts out, startling both you and luca.

“dude relax. i didnt even say anything, chill out man,” you scoff.

“someone’s on their period. control your woman fantilli,” jonah jokes. your mouth falls agape at his statement.

“what did you just say to me? i’m on my what?”

“you heard me,” jonah chuckles before taking a sip of his drink.

“watch your fucking mouth douchebag. don’t fucking say that shit about my girlfriend! especially right in front of her or me,” luca starts up.

“oh it was a joke relax, you can’t even talk like you’re some big guy anyways! you warm the bench, and you guys lost in the frozen four. just chill out luca you’re not some hotshot,” jonah exclaims. your mouth falls agape, and lucas whole body tenses up.

before you can even think, your mouth just starts running, “oh you wanna talk about hot shots? you thrive on daddy’s money and think everyone is in love with you. newsflash, just because you never went d1 for hockey after high school, doesn’t mean being friends with the team makes you important. honestly, they all think you’re a dick. and so what if luca doesn’t get the absolute most playing time? he still went d1, unlike someone else in this conversation”

luca chuckles at your words, and this makes jonah even more pissed. “you think i’m gonna listen to you? don’t you have a fucking nail appointment to go to?”

“jonah you sound like an idiot. pulling out misogynistic ‘insults’ like that’s gonna do anything? just accept the fact you’re in the wrong, it’ll be the only good thing you ever did. notice how i’m the one in a relationship, and you can barely get a girl in your bed unless she’s intoxicated? which by the way is horrible in itself, but that’s a conversation for another time. just go home bud.” luca declares.

despite the topic of conversation, you can’t help yourself but be attracted to this side of luca. you’ve never seen him act out this way, and him defending you like this is only making the attraction worse. the heavily intoxicated jonah flips you both off and makes his way back into the pool of people, leaving you and luca alone in the kitchen.

“that was a new side of you. i liked that” you admit, making luca blush ever so slightly.

“oh yeah?” he laughs, and pulls you closer to his body so that you’re now against his chest looking up at him.

“i’m sorry about that, he’s an asshole.” luca says to you softly but loud enough for you to hear over the music.

“no i’m sorry. he said some rude things about you babe, don’t listen to him he’s just jealous”

“eh, i don’t mind. i get enough chirping from adam anyways,” luca chuckles and kisses the top of your head. you both embrace each other a little bit more before heading back to the swarm of people throughout the rest of the house. you guys went back to luca’s dorm afterwards and spent the rest of the night in each others arms, never forgetting the moment you two shared tonight.

[fluentmoviequoter]

The Freak and The Princess (I)

Summary: Eddie lets you walk by during his rant in the cafeteria, stumped by your quietness and manners toward the town freak. He then decides to be the perfect gentlemen. [Part 1 of 5 depending on if anyone actually reads it.] 2k+ Words

Warnings: none! Just more fluff than a Pomeranian. There is also a very good chance Eddie is OOC but Imma risk it (if you get that reference, we should be friends).

A/N: (I'm terrified to do this.) This is the first thing that I've ever posted so constructive criticism is welcomed and appreciated! I've been writing stories like this for years but have been too scared to post them for a variety of reasons, but I love writing and reading so if one person can get a little joy from this, then my goal is reached. I edited this and proofread it, but please point out any errors or things that you like! And please send requests; all the characters I write for are under my tag #characters! Hope you enjoy! :)

The Freak and The Princess

Part One: My Princess

Being as quiet as I am has its pros and cons. 

Pros: I don’t get noticed often, can easily observe everything around me, and can escape my real life whenever I want. 

Cons: when I do get noticed, it gets real. 

I’ve lived in Hawkins since eighth grade. Now I’m a senior. I don’t have any consistent friends, although Steve Harrington came to be someone I knew I could trust and talk to after dealing with the Russians side by side last year. The only person I noticed for myself was Eddie Munson. He was a big, bad high schooler when I moved here, and I guess that hasn’t changed. Since he’s two years older than me, we’ve never talked or met, but I know who he is, and he’s one of the few people who can make me smile without even realizing I’m there. 

I was walking through the cafeteria, trying to get outside away from all the noise and people, when I heard a voice I’d recognize anywhere say, “But as long as you’re into band, or... science. Or parties. Or A GAME WHERE YOU TOSS BALLS INTO LAUNDRY BASKETS!!”

I watched as he walked down the Hellfire lunch table, stopping at the end and responding to Jason’s comment with fake devil horns. He continued talking, jumping off the table and finishing. He stepped back, motioning for me and another girl ahead of me to walk by him. 

“Thanks,” I whispered, smiling as I met his eye. I felt his eyes on me as I walked by, and I decided he was trying to figure out who I was. I waited in an empty classroom until most people cleared out before walking to my locker and gathering my things. 

“Hey,” someone said beside me. I jumped slightly before turning to see Eddie leaning against the lockers and looking at me. 

“Hi, Eddie,” I said quietly.

“You know my name?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Man, now I feel bad. Let me guess?” 

I laughed lightly and nodded, closing my locker and picking up my bag. 

“Marcie? No, that doesn’t fit. Kelsey? Too cheerleader-y. Princess?”

“That your final guess?” I smiled. He nodded, a proud look on his face. My watch beeped, and I pressed it to silence it. 

“That’s my cue. See you around, Eddie!” I said, walking out the door. 

“See ya, princess!” he called. I blushed, glad to have my back to him. The next day I went to school as usual; until lunch. I walked into the cafeteria, on my way through as always, when I felt someone walk up beside me.

“Hey, so I haven’t seen you around before and wanted to introduce myself. I’m Jason Carver.”

I kept walking, not talking to him. “What, I can’t even get a name? Pretty girl like you has to have a pretty name!” I was at the door when he grabbed my wrist, “Look, I get that you’re shy. All I’m asking for is a name, beautiful.” 

He was surprisingly cordial, but I knew there had to be a catch. 

I thought quickly, deciding to say, “Arwen.” 

I pulled my hand from him and rushed outside. After my last class, I walked to my locker, hoping to see Eddie again, but soon my watch beeped, and I headed to work.

“Hey, kiddo, how was school?” Steve asked as I walked into Family Video and pulled my vest on. I shrugged and started stocking tapes. I heard the door open then close before Steve spoke to me again. “Something happen?” I shook my head no. “I’m gonna go check on Robin. I’ll be right back,” he said, moving past me quietly.

“Princess?” I heard from the other end of the aisle. 

I looked over to see Eddie with two tapes in his hand. I smiled at him and quietly said, “Hi.”

“Fancy meeting you here. Should'a known The Hair got to you,” he smiled, standing closer to me. 

“Take it easy, Munson,” Steve warned as he returned to the counter. 

Eddie rolled his eyes, causing me to laugh lightly. His smile widened, and he held two movies from the new release pile. “Which one?” I gestured to The Goonies, watching as he nodded and slid the other back where he’d pulled it from. 

“Didn’t see you at lunch today. You race through the cafeteria again?”

“Munson, leave her-“ Steve started before stopping when he heard me talking.

“Got corned by Carver and had to make a run for it,” I answered.

Steve jumped the counter, pointing at me as he rounded the corner into the aisle. “Did you just answer him?” Eddie and I nodded, Steve’s jaw dropping further. “How long have you two known each other?”

“Uh,” Eddie looked at his watch, “thirty-six hours.”

“And you’re already talking to him?” Steve asked incredulously. I shrugged in response, continuing what I was doing. 

“She talk to you?” Eddie asked Steve.

“Yeah, but it took her a lot longer to start.”

“I just have a welcoming and calming persona.” I laughed, shaking my head. Eddie walked past me to check out the movie, still bickering with Steve. He turned to me as he walked out, waving. 

“Let me know what you think,” I said, pointing to the tape with my chin. 

“Absolutely. See you tomorrow, princess.”

“Did Eddie 'The Freak' Munson just call you ‘princess’?”

“Yeah. He didn’t know my name, so he started calling me that.”

“Why didn’t you tell him your name?”

“Couldn’t. I don’t mind though.” I fell silent again, ignoring Steve’s questions and comments. I went home a few hours later, finishing my homework and hoping to see Eddie again tomorrow.

~

I exited my fourth-period class, ready to sit by myself for lunch. I walked into the cafeteria, taking a new route the other way around to avoid Jason. I ended up closer to the Hellfire table, smiling as I saw Eddie in a heated conversation with the boys.

“Hey, beautiful,” Jason said, slinging an arm around my shoulders as he came up behind me.

I was too far from the door and knew I couldn’t speak more than a few words. I only had one choice. I shrugged his arm off me and made a beeline for the Hellfire Table. There was an open seat by Eddie, so I slid into it, looking at him as they all silenced, staring at me. I flitted my eyes toward Jason, who glared at me and Eddie. I was shrinking into myself, wanting the floor to swallow me, when I felt Eddie grab my hand, his thumb rubbing the back.

“Guys, this is my princess. Princess, these are the guys,” he said. Then leaned in and whispered, “I won’t let anything happen to you, ‘kay?”

I nodded, squeezing his hand slightly. Jason stormed off, and I breathed a sigh of relief but didn’t move to leave, choosing instead to silently listen to the guys talk about their new Hellfire campaign as I played with Eddie’s rings. Walking out of my last class, I saw someone leaning against the locker beside mine.

“Thanks for the help at lunch,” I said, walking by him and opening my locker.

“Anytime, princess. You working today?”

“No, I’m off the rest of the week. Scheduling error by my idiot boss, Keith.”

Eddie nodded. We both looked out the window when a loud crack of thunder sounded, and rain started pouring down.

“You have a ride?” Eddie asked, pushing off the locker as I closed mine.

“No, but I don’t live far.”

“Absolutely not. I’ll give you a ride.” He slipped his jacket off and laid it over my shoulders. 

“Eddie, you don’t have to. It’s completely fine. I’ve walked home in the rain before.”

“A princess should never walk home. Let alone in the rain. As long as I’m here, it won’t happen again.” He extended his hand, “Milady.”

I placed my hand in his, our fingers interlacing as I said, “Why thank you, kind sir.” We ran to his van, and I gave him directions to my house. “See you tomorrow?” I asked, beginning to take his jacket off as he parked in my driveway. 

“Of course. Keep the jacket, you still have to walk in.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I can pick you up in the morning if it’s still raining like the forecast said.”

“I’d really like that. Thanks for the ride, Eddie.”

“A pleasure, princess.”

I ran to my front porch, shaking the rain off and unlocking my front door. I waved to Eddie as he backed out, then went into the empty house. There was one more day, then solitude. At least I had Eddie and Steve to make the days more tolerable.

~

Eddie kept his promise, pulling up in front of my house as I stepped outside. I moved to return his jacket, but he shook his head, “That’s yours until it stops raining.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep. Have to keep my princess dry and warm.”

‘My princess.’ His princess.

We walked into school together before going our separate ways for classes. I walked into the lunchroom, setting my sights on the Hellfire table. I was just a few steps away when Jason stopped me, standing between me and the table.

“You have a lot of nerve ignoring me,” he said loudly. I saw Eddie pick his head up and look over, making eye contact with me over Jason’s shoulder. He stood up but didn’t move toward me, waiting. 

“You gonna say anything? Can you even talk, Arwen?” I heard a few laughs before Jason continued, “What? Did The Freak sell your soul and your tongue to the devil?” I clenched my jaw, starting to see red. “Just a matter of time until he sacrifices you. Or worse,” he whispered. He backed up with an evil grin. Now everything was red. 

“How do you know he hasn’t sacrificed your soul? Oh, that’s right, your head is so far up your butt you’d notice the extra room,” I responded quickly.

The whole cafeteria broke out into yells and clapping. 

“What’d you just say to me?”

“I said to get your ears checked. Your ego seems to be clogging everything up.”

“Who do you think you are?”

“Not half the person you think you are.”

“If you want attention, baby, just come out and say it.”

I saw Eddie step toward us but gently shook my head, stopping him.

“Maybe I do want attention. But I promise I don’t want yours. So, if you’d be so kind as to move out of my way, I’d appreciate it.” He took a single step to the side. “Oh, and if you so much as look at me or any other member of Hellfire again, I will shove my foot up your butt until your heart stops. Got it?”

Jason nodded and rushed out of the room, everyone cheering again as I walked toward Eddie and grabbed his hand. He nodded, following me to an empty classroom. 

“Why did I do that?” I groaned as I sat down, burying my face in my hands. 

“Because you’re amazing.”

“Now people know who I am, and they’ll talk to me.”

“I’ll become your personal bodyguard. Nobody will be able to talk to my princess.”

The bell rang, and we reluctantly returned to classes, meeting by my locker at the end of the day. 

“Let’s drop by Hellfire real quick.” We entered the room, and he dug through a box before pulling something out and turning around, unfurling one of the signature Hellfire Club t-shirts. “This should fit. You called yourself a member at lunch and we have a very strict policy regarding verbal agreements.”

“Oh, of course,” I smiled and slid it over my other shirt.

We stopped by Family Video to return Eddie’s tape, Steve’s eyes widening as we walked in together, asking, “What’s happening here?”

“Someone stuck it to Carver today, in front of the whole school,” Eddie smiled. 

“Good job, babe,” Steve said as he began returning the movie, “How ya feelin'?”

“I’m ok,” I shrugged, “hoping this doesn’t lead to people trying to talk to me.”

“Well, keep hanging with this freak and it won’t be a problem.” Steve smirked at Eddie.

“Whatever, Hair.” Eddie playfully rolled his eyes. “Let’s go, princess.” He wrapped his arm around me, and I waved to Steve before walking toward the door.

“Take care of my girl,” Steve yelled.

“I’ll take care of MY princess,” Eddie yelled as the door closed.

A/N2: If you read this far, thank you so much! Please leave a comment or send me a message with any recommendations or requests (or if you're interested in more parts of this story). :)