#haven’t worn a full face of makeup like that in over a year

[hiddenworldofmary]

not only did i chop my hair short but i also got my cv and linkedin photos done and got a new little bag for everyday use!!! fantastic start to a new month let’s keep it that way and hope i can also find a decent job and do some sports

[juyeonszn]

REFLECTIONS

PAIRING jacob bae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 2.07k

GENRES smut lol

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, fawn writing about jacob bae yet again but i swear this time was necessary!!!, porn without plot but also if u squint there’s a little bit of plot, roommates/best friends with mutual pining, i mixed so many tropes in here tbh, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (pls be safe), mirror sex, soft? dom!jacob, lmk if i missed anything!

SUMMARY the two times jacob bae derails your saturday night plans.

MORE FAWNTOBER DAY 2 IS A GOOOOO 😈 i’m actually doing pretty well timing wise and as far as im concerned, i’ll actually pull this thing off 😭 anyways.. enjoy!! pls remember to reblog if u liked what u read! and stay tuned for the rest of the fics coming out this month <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble

If it were up to you, you would just stay home for the evening. You’d kick your feet up into the ottoman and put on a random movie, latched onto Jacob’s side like a little leech. You were lucky your roommate was just as much of a cuddler as you were. It’d be kind of awkward if he wasn’t.

Unfortunately, your Saturday night plans would have to be postponed.

“It’s gonna be fun, N/N, I promise,” he tries to convince you, hands clasped together. “Sangyeon even said he’d pay your tab.”

“But I’m tired, Cobie,” you pout, knowing full well that your puppy dog eyes would always be his weakness, even if he’d never admit it to himself. “I don’t wanna go out tonight.”

He must’ve really been looking forward to going out and meeting up with the guys if not even your guilt-tripping face worked on him. He goes off on a tangent about how you always stay in, and despite loving that to an extent, sometimes he wants to enjoy a night out. You were still confused as to why he didn’t just go by himself. Why did he have to bring you along with him?

It’s not like you were dating or anything. You were just roommates. Really close roommates. Roommates who cuddled every other night. Roommates who often found themselves sleeping in the other’s bed rather than their own. Roommates who were so undeniably attracted to each other but masked it by pretending they weren’t.

Couldn’t you have been sucked into a different trope?

“I just think you’re not giving the idea enough credit,” he raises his hands in surrender. “Besides, wouldn’t you feel left out? Wouldn’t you get major FOMO?”

You sigh. He had a point. Even if you didn’t really want to go clubbing, knowing all of your friends were there without you would make you sad. Imposter syndrome came way too easily for you. “Fine, I guess I’ll go.”

Jacob fist bumps the air, dragging you from the couch to your bedroom so you could start getting ready. He knows you take a while and the arranged meet up time was two hours from the current time. You move as quickly as you can, because even if you were only interested half heartedly, you didn’t want to be late. Especially because Jacob had a knack for constantly being punctual.

You kiss your teeth as you stare at your closet after you’ve finished showering and doing your hair and makeup. You felt like there was nothing good enough to wear. This wasn’t just a bar that you usually frequented, so you couldn’t dress casually. But it also wasn’t so fancy that you had to go over the top either. And for some reason, none of your clothes could fall into the perfect in-between category.

There was one dress.

You hadn’t worn it in a while, mostly because you never found the occasion to and it brought bad memories. It was a confidence booster, that was for sure. A tight black dress that stopped just below your ass and showed the perfect amount of cleavage. The moment you put it on, it’s like you’re a new person.

Staring back at you is someone you haven’t seen in a couple years, someone you shoved into the recesses of your subconscious. She used to party every night until she was black out drunk, making out and sleeping with random strangers until she was satisfied. She was stuck in a loop until she became friends with Jacob Bae, eventually moving in to get away from that lifestyle.

You never tell him how grateful you are. Part of you wishes to keep your past buried, hidden from the light of day so you never have to face your mistakes again. But at the same time, you could never tell him thank you enough. For saving you in a way, for helping you close that chapter of your life.

There’s a knock at your door, and you call out a “Come in” before your brain catches up with you. You make eye contact with Jacob in the mirror, watching his expression shift slightly. It wouldn’t have been noticeable if you were anyone else, but you knew him almost as well as you knew yourself. Maybe better.

He walks up behind you, brushing your hair behind your shoulder with a featherlight touch. “I haven’t seen this one on you in a long time.”

He’s so close to you, it’s kind of driving you crazy. You bite the inside of your lip, trying to keep your voice steady. “Should I wear it?”

His fingers start at your waist, trailing down to the hem of your dress. His knuckles skim across the bare skin of your exposed thigh, provoking your body to shudder. “Hmm, I’m not too sure,” Jacob rests his chin on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirror. “Seeing you in this is making me rethink going out tonight. Kinda wanna keep you here, all to myself, like that night at Hyunjae’s party.”

Okay, so perhaps you might’ve skipped a tiny detail in the retelling of your first encounter with Jacob Bae.

The reason you two became friends was because he actually happened to be one of those random strangers you slept with. It was a stroke of luck that you kept in contact with him after that night, considering he was supposed to be nothing more than a nameless face. But he was cute and he was funny, so when he asked to hang out a few days later you couldn’t help but cave in.

“Jacob…” You breathe, chest rising and falling rapidly. “D-Don’t you wanna see the boys?”

His lips press to the juncture between your neck and collarbone, a soft kiss that already packs your head with cotton. He hums into your skin, hands bunching up your dress around your hips. Someone was impatient. “Not important. We can reschedule.”

You didn’t want to reschedule. You wanted to get out of this apartment, fully clothed, with an excuse to ignore the hammering of your heart in your rib cage and the fluttering down there. If you stayed here any longer, Jacob would successfully charm his way into your pants. (Dress?) And you didn’t want to think about the consequences that may come with.

But it’s not like he gives you much of a choice, invading your headspace with every nip and suck of your jugular and jaw. His slender fingers run a line down the front of your panties, a small groan leaving the back of his throat when he feels how wet you are for him. With heavy eyelids, you watch the entire thing in the mirror, lips parting with a gasp at the sight.

“Fuck, baby,” he curses in your ear, pulling you backward so the two of you are sitting on the edge of your bed, still facing your mirror. “You want me just as bad don’t you?”

You whine, squirming as he dips his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, collecting your slick and smearing it all over your lower lips. He helps you shimmy out of your panties and dress, leaving you completely nude for him. His fingers resume their previous activities, easily pumping the ring and middle digits in and out of your cunt. His free hand grips your jaw, forcing you to keep your eyes on his movements.

“Cobie,” you whimper, spreading your legs wider to give both of you a better view. “Feels so good…”

His thumb circles your clit, mouth beside your ear to whisper all the filthy things he wants to do to you. Your toes curl at the same time his fingers do, brushing that sweet spot in your pussy. A strangled moan escapes you as you hit your climax, walls tightening around his fingers and back arching into his chest.

“That was so hot. You did so well for me,” he praises, thumb rubbing lazy patterns into your clit to bring you back down. “I just need you to do that on my cock. Can you do that for me, baby?”

“Mhm,” you nod, hands reaching behind yourself to free him from his jeans, fumbling with the button and zipper in your haste. “Need you inside of me already.”

You hope Jacob doesn’t have high expectations for you since you came so quickly with just his fingers. You’re not sure if he’s anticipating you to last longer with his cock. From what you remember, he wasn’t the longest, but he was definitely the thickest, and that’s what scared you the most. You were afraid of how full he’d make you feel.

Once the clothes from his bottom half are removed, you risk a glance at his dick in the mirror, your pussy clenching around nothing. Despite not knowing if you’d be able to take him without turning into a blubbering mess, you really wanted to try. You wanted him to fill you up like a plug in a bathtub drain.

He takes his girth in one hand, sliding his dick through your folds languidly, lubricating himself with the wetness of your cunt. He groans in your ear again, squeezing your hip to steel himself. “You ready for me?”

Your head bobs up and down quickly, patience wearing thin. He chuckles before impaling you on his cock, both of you moaning from the feeling of one another. The stretch burns, but it’s fucking heavenly, your pussy feeling so stuffed you can barely think. (Not that your thoughts were coherent beforehand anyway.)

“You’re— oh god, Jacob— you’re s-so deep,” you mewl, hands supporting yourself on his thighs. “I feel so full.”

He keeps his grip on your waist, fucking up into you as slowly as he can as to not disrupt your adjustment to his cock. Your head lolls back onto his shoulder, lips parted with a gasp every time he thrusts into your tight pussy. He shakes his head, urging you to stay upright.

“I need you to keep your eyes on the mirror, baby. Watch me fuck you until you can’t take it anymore.” Jacob commands, voice as deep as his dick inside of you.

You comply, hooded eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head when you take in the sight of him bouncing you on his cock. Your nails dig into his skin, lip splitting from the force in which you’re biting it. He looks so hot, focused on getting you both to that peak you desperately need to reach.

It’s such a stark contrast to the sweet Jacob Bae you’re used to, this one pounding into you without mercy, eyebrows knitted together in concentration. That first time you had sex, years ago, was pretty vanilla thanks to you both having a little too much to drink that night. You don’t even think you remembered most of it. Had you known he was such a freak, maybe you wouldn’t have pretended your attraction to him was nonexistent. Maybe this would’ve happened a lot sooner.

You don’t dwell on that regret much longer, Jacob yanking your attention back in by rubbing your clit with his middle finger. The amount of overstimulation fogs your vision, voluminous, pornographic level moans reverberating around the room. The words bubbling past your lips don’t make any sense, reduced to babbling until an encouragement is uttered into your ear.

“Cum on my cock, sweetheart,”

A cry is ripped from your vocal cords, your body writhing above him and continuing even after he’s orgasmed inside of you, fucking his cum into your cunt as he calms you down. You whimper when he grasps your jaw once more, egging you on to stare at the mixture of your cum running down your legs.

You both look absolutely feral, skin sticky with sweat and chests heaving up and down as if you’d ran a marathon. Jacob makes no move to pull out, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck, back and shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut as a wave of exhaustion rushes over you.

“I think you’re pretty close to succeeding in your mission,” you say hoarsely. “I can hardly function right now.”

He laughs, such a melodic sound it almost doesn’t belong in your current setting. “Yeah? Do you wanna help me pass it?”

And in spite of being on the brink of passing out, who are you to deny such a promising offer?

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[excessive-vampires]

Val in the AH Part 4: In Which Val is Auctioned

Setting and all characters except Val and Hector are from oliversrarebooks

Masterlist with CW

The next morning was full of activity, tired-looking vampires corralled the humans, some alone and some in a group, out of the cells. Val felt nervous, crowds and commotion had always put them on edge, it made it harder to focus on who they needed to and hear what they were being told to do. They were thankful that things had quieted down a bit by the time Lily walked up to their cell. 

“Hello, Val,” Lily said. “I have a feeling you’re going to be one of our bestsellers this year so I arranged to be your handler for the auction.” 

“Thank you, sir.” Val stood up as Lily unlocked the door to their cell. 

“Let’s get you to the showers and cleaned up quick so we can get you dressed in something nicer than that old uniform.” 

Val scrubbed themself clean quickly and was then led, wrapped in towels, to a dressing room. They looked around and saw elaborate and extravagant dresses hanging on clothes racks all around the room. Val had never worn something so fancy, and really didn’t think they’d be comfortable in a dress like that. But if this was what the auction entailed, they would endure it and hope they weren’t expected to dress up like this every day. 

“Florence,” Lily called out, and an older woman emerged from behind a row of dresses. “I’ve brought Lot Twenty-Three, their name is Val.” 

Florence looked Val over and unwrapped the towel around their hair. “Hmm, that’ll need a trim. Lily, did you have any particular plans for them?”

Lily yawned from the chair she’d found. “Nothing specific, but I think something striking to make them stand out will catch the eye of the right sort of vampire.”

“Well let’s get started then.” Florence led them to a stool in the center of the room and went to go grab a box of makeup and hair products. 

Lily got up from the chair. “I’ll be back after Florence is done with you, Val.” She turned to Florence. “Their word is ‘safe’ but you’re not going to need it. They follow instructions beautifully and haven’t resisted anyone here even once.” 

“Oh I do love it when the merchandise is smart enough to be well-behaved,” Florence replied. After Lily left, she turned back to Val. “Sit up straight and pay attention.” 

Val obeyed as Florence picked out several dresses and brought them over to Val. “Something simple and more modern is going to make you seem more unique, it’ll be the accessories that make you truly memorable. Now, which dress can you see yourself in?” 

“You want me to choose?” Val asked, slightly alarmed. 

“Only the dress, dear child, then I’ll take whatever you pick and make you look as good as possible.” 

Val scanned the dresses. Their eyes landed on a plain black one that looked fitted but not tight enough to restrict movement. There were no sleeves, only thin red ribbons acting as straps that stood out like a beacon against the other colors. The neck and bottom hem of the dress were adorned with small red jewels that would catch the light nicely. Val pointed to the dress. “I’ve been told that red is my color,” they said hesitantly. 

“Excellent choice!” Florence exclaimed, returning the other dresses to the appropriate racks. She returned to Val and placed a hand on their face. “Now drop. Still and calm and docile.” 

Florence’s commands felt a lot more blunt and abrupt than Lily’s did, but Val didn’t resist, allowing their mind to be utterly blank as Florence used tweezers and hot wax to shape their eyebrows. Then she trimmed their hair so it was no longer touching their neck, and styled it to have volume without looking frizzy or messy. Next makeup was put on them, and then the dress was slipped on over their shoulders. Florence then picked out several accessories to add to Val’s outfit. As the preparations continued, Val barely registered anything that Florence was doing until they were looking at themself in the mirror. 

The dress had been quickly altered to fit them perfectly, and their now short hair was pulled back from their face with red and gold bejeweled clips. There was a thin layer of makeup on their face, a slight blush to their cheeks and ruby lipstick on their lips. A red sash had been tied around their waist and red strips of velvet were twisted around their lower arms. They looked truly striking. 

Florence walked back over and held out a pair of gold handcuffs with red and black ribbons wrapped around them and braided through the connected chain. “Give me your hands, now. We don’t want someone trying to steal you away without paying.” 

Val obeyed. 

“There. You look absolutely perfect.” Florence said, studying them. A flicker of happiness and gratitude cut through the blankness in Val’s mind. Florence then led them through a bustling hallway and into a room where Lily was waiting. She was also dressed up, but not nearly as thoroughly as Val. 

“Oh, Florence, this is amazing!” Lily exclaimed as she stood. “They’ll stand out like blood on a snowdrift.” 

“Oh Lily, you flatter me.” Florence handed over the leash of Val’s handcuffs. “Now I need to go help with some last minute revisions to some of the other merchandise. Let me know how much this one goes for.”

“Of course.” Lily turned to Val as Florence left and looked deep into their eyes. “Show the other vampires how well you can obey and submit to them for me.”

Val nodded, absolutely mesmerized. They wanted nothing more than to show how good they were at doing what they were told. If they sold for a lot it would make Lily happy, and the more they made everyone happy the safer they would be. 

A series of vampires filtered in and out of the room, looking Val over. Several seemed to be looking for a thrall to treat as a pet, which Val felt would be easy but probably a bit boring. Others were looking for someone to see to every household chore or other bit of work they didn’t want to do themselves, which Val felt a little anxious about. They hadn’t done very well at chores at home. They could maintain the house on a daily basis well enough but it often left Val tired enough to do a sloppy job cooking dinner afterwards. Despite Lily commanding them to believe they would be a good thrall, they couldn’t imagine doing well if they had to clean, cook for themself, and do whatever busy work was needed for however the vampire that owned them made money. What would be great was some sort of middle ground between a servant and a pet. 

“Oh what an inspired look!” said the vampire that walked in next as he looked Val over. He was also dressed pretty strikingly. A suit with a royal blue vest, blue gemstone buttons and cufflinks, and a blue scarf around his neck. His fingernails were painted gold and flecks of gold shone in his wavy black hair and on his scarf. “Whoever chose this dress has excellent taste.” 

Something about this man’s energy made Val feel happy. And more willing to take risks. “I could say the same about you, sir,” Val replied, sensing he would react well to compliments. 

The man looked delighted. “Oh, you’ve let this one keep a good taste for fashion, at least.” He smiled wide. “What’s your name, then?” 

“Val, sir.” 

“Sweet valentine, you’ve been dressed up perfectly. But with your complexion and hair I doubt there’s much you look bad in. That’s an important factor for me. Anyone I’m seen with in public will be held to a certain standard of bold beauty.”

“Thank you, sir.” Val hadn’t heard any other vampire so much as imply they’d be permitted to leave their residence if purchased by them. Plus, he’d just, if indirectly, called them beautiful. “If I may ask, what is your name?” 

“It’s Hector, dear,” Hector said, hooking a finger under their chin and lifting it. His eyes were bright and intoxicating, his subtle gold eyeshadow highlighting the lighter brown flecks and making them almost glow. Val felt like he was daring them to impress him. “And I am in desperate need of a suitable thrall. So many of the pretty ones have all the entertaining parts of their thoughts erased, but so far you’re still interesting, and seem perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. It’s so tedious taking care of a pet thrall that can do little more than stare at you lovingly. If I wanted a lap-dog I’d buy a beagle.” 

Val was starting to understand. Hector did want a pretty obedient pet to flaunt, but he didn’t want blind adoration. He wanted someone he could engage with and show off to. “I can handle my own care, sir, and I believe I’m much more entertaining than a beagle.” Val mirrored Hector’s wicked smile. 

Hector laughed heartily and turned to Lily. “Oh this one is excellent. But are you sure they’re conditioned enough to follow orders?”

“Oh absolutely,” Lily reassured. “They were so open to the enthrallment that their mind has been almost completely preserved, but they’ll do whatever is asked of them without resistance.” 

“Hmm, someone that doesn’t fight the enthrallment might be fun. But I think I’ll need to test their obedience before making a decision.” Hector dropped Val’s chin and looked them in the eyes. “Keep looking into my eyes, and stay still.”

There was only a slight mental tug to obey, but Val did so nonetheless. Hector leaned in very close then put a hand on either side of Val’s face. He pressed a thumb to their mouth and dragged it across their face, smearing their lipstick up their cheek in a cartoonish half-grin. He then took out a handkerchief, spit on it, and roughly scrubbed the lipstick off of their face and mouth. Val did not outwardly react. Hector grinned.

“I’ll kindly ask you to stop manhandling the merchandise, Hector,” Lily scolded. 

Hector put his hands up in surrender and then backed away. “As you wish.” He looked back at Val. “I’m a bit rusty on the etiquette for these things. I tend to avoid auction houses but I’ve found no suitable thrall candidates in the wild and it’s been quite some time since I was able to taste fresh blood. Especially from one who’s never been bitten before,” he said in a low voice. He lifted a hand to stroke the skin of Val’s neck where it met their shoulder. Val’s breath hitched at the barely-there but positively electric way his fingers ghosted over their pulse point. “Such pretty virgin flesh just begging to be torn into and marked. I could make constellations of punctures in your skin and trace the lines between them with my tongue. What do you think of that?”

Val didn’t know what they thought. Their heart was racing with a jumbled mix of emotions. Hector’s words sounded sadistic, cruel… intimate. They wanted to make him happy, to obey. So they should say something, what sort of response did he want? It didn’t matter because all Val could do was picture what he had described and a strange haze of desire was settling over their mind as Hector’s wide grin showed off his fangs. Then he laughed again and the spell was broken, leaving Val flustered and confused. 

“I do believe you are just the spark my home needs, little valentine.” Hector abruptly began walking towards the door, but he stopped at the last second and turned back. “I’ll be seeing you soon.” 

As soon as he was gone Lily went over to Val and reapplied their lipstick. “We’re lucky I keep an extra tube in my purse,” she said with a sigh. “There’s nothing I can do about the foundation and blush though. What an arrogant man.”

“I hope he’ll be the one to buy me,” Val said absentmindedly. His gleefulness around leaving holes in their skin aside, he was the only one they’d felt any kind of draw towards. He was easy to understand, he would value both their eagerness to please and their freedom of thought, he didn’t seem to expect much labor, and something in his eyes spoke of the sense of adventure Val had always secretly longed for. It seemed like a good match.

“He does seem to be in the market for a companion thrall.”

“I think I’ll be able to make him happy, sir.” 

“Well then we’ll hope this stunt with your makeup was a tactic to drive away any other interested parties.” 

Val tried to think more clearly for a moment. Despite their instant fondness for Hector, something was still nagging at the back of their mind. “Do you think he’d treat me well, sir?”

“I can’t see why not, he seemed to like you very much.”

“It’s just… the way he talked about tearing into my skin…”

“Relax and don’t worry, Val.” Lily said, and Val felt the warm secure feeling wash over them, sending them back into that familiar calm haziness. “I guess I forgot to mention since most thralls outright ask about it, but I’ve reinforced your instinctual reaction to vampiric auras during our sessions, you just weren’t awake for it. It’s very likely you won’t feel pain when fed on, and even if it does hurt a bit, you’ll be too enthralled to care.”

“Oh,” Val said. This was a significant relief. They had been trying not to think about the inevitability of being bitten by a vampire. They knew it wouldn’t kill them, since Colette and Lily both talked about a vampire wanting to keep them long-term, and they had figured any amount of pain was endurable in exchange for the feeling they got from following orders. But not having to worry about that made them feel lighter. And if Hector’s vivid imagery wasn’t about causing pain… 

“In fact,” Lily continued. “For many thralls, the experience is immensely pleasurable. Think of it as the ultimate act of obedience.”

“O-Oh,” Val repeated. That certainly put his words in a new light. 

“That got some color back in your cheeks,” Lily commented. She stepped aside as another vampire entered the room. 

Val was still dazed from Lily’s command to relax and the new information they were processing, so they were glad that this was the last vampire to see them before the auction proper. After some time waiting Val was led by the chain on their handcuffs to the backstage of an auditorium. They tried to stand up straight and keep a neutral expression as they were led out onto the stage and the bidding started. 

Val couldn’t see the crowd’s faces, they had no idea who was bidding on them. It felt like it took way too long and not nearly long enough for the auctioneer to say “Sold!”

The tension and anticipation was threatening to make Val freeze up. Everything felt far away and unreal. The rest of their life had just been decided and they had no idea what it would look like. It was all too uncertain. 

“To the man with the shiny blue cufflinks!” the auctioneer added. 

Val started to breathe again, and a relieved smile spread across their face. Lily led them to a small office. 

“Well, it looks like you got what you wanted!” Lily said. “How do you feel?” 

“Very happy, sir,” Val replied. “And very tired.” Now that the adrenaline of uncertainty was wearing off Val was starting to feel how sore their bare feet were and how very much they’d like to rest. 

Just then the door opened and Hector was led in by Colette. Hector gave a little wave to Val. “Hello my valentine.”

His emphasis on the possessive made Val smile in further relief. 

“Not yours until you sign and pay,” said Colette. 

Hector briefly looked over the paperwork he was handed and signed each page.  “There’s that. The money transfer should go through by tomorrow night, I assume I won’t get to take them home until then.” 

“Correct,” Colette responded. 

“A shame. The hustle and bustle of the auction has left me tired and hungry and I’d prefer something fresh.” Hector winked at Val and their breathing stuttered. 

“Would you like any specific training or conditioning done while we still have them?” Colette asked. 

Hector looked Val over thoughtfully. “How are you at laundry?”

Val took a breath to compose themself. “Decent, I believe. Average. I have a lot of practice.” 

Hector nodded. “I don’t think anything additional is necessary.” 

“Then make any final inspection of the merchandise you’d like and our business will be concluded.” 

Hector looked over at Val again. “Take off the dress. I’d like to look for scars and other flaws so I know if I need to charge these people for damages when I get you home.”

After Lily helped Val out of their dress, Hector circled them, cataloging every freckle, every skin tag. He seemed a bit put off by the old cooking burn on their upper thigh. “How did this damage occur?” 

“A hot oven,” Val answered. 

“When?” 

“More than ten years ago.” 

“Why did it scar so badly?”

“I didn’t know how to treat it properly.” 

“Hmm.” Hector stood and hooked a finger under Val’s chin. “If you are ever damaged in the future, I want to know about it as soon as possible. I know a lot about preventing scarring.” 

“Yes, sir,” Val responded. They were happy Hector hadn’t changed his mind about them. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Hector said to Val. He then said his goodbyes to Lily and Colette and Lily led Val back to the room with the cells. 

“Now,” Lily said. “What would you like for dinner? You made me a nice little sum today so I’ll get you whatever you want.” 

Val thought for a moment as they walked back into their cell. “Steak, sir?” 

“Excellent choice!” Lily said, locking the door. “It’ll make your blood taste better.” 

Val sat on their cot and thought about their future. A few days ago they had been dreading dealing with a family they’d probably never see again, and now they’d be spending the rest of their days in service to Hector. And thanks to Lily they didn’t have to worry constantly about making him angry. They knew that they should at the very least rationally consider themself worse off now but… Hector seemed fun. Before, in their old life, having to be around someone like that would be disheartening at best. They weren’t great at playing along with jokes or acting with the carefree vivaciousness that some people had. Their fear perceived as unenthusiasm lost them a significant number of potential friends back in school, and had made a lot of people angry with them. But now that they were confident in their safety they wanted that energy in their life. If Val was a spark in Hector’s home then he would be their fuel, and the two of them would get along like a house on fire.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 8)

a/n: oh my! we have finally reached the end of this story and I never thought it would turn out to be this long but im happy it did! thank you for reading and loving it, and now, enjoy the last part!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 4k

warning: just pure fluff

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

“Girl, even if you don’t win, you’ll surely take the title of the hottest woman on the red carpet tonight.”

Florence’s words make you chuckle, but you try not to move your lips too much as the makeup artist finishes up the last touches on them, using a nude shade.

“Stop, my head is big enough already,” you tell her, giving her a look through the mirror. She is standing a few feet behind you, already wearing her beautiful, golden Versace gown that hugs her perfectly. Her hair is up in a neat bun so her back can be on full display and the diamonds in her ears can also shine brightly. She looks amazing while she is the opposite of what you’ll look like tonight.

Rhonda, the makeup artist has an amazing notion about your look when you showed her the gown you’d be wearing tonight and since the dress is not the sparkly kind, like Florence’s, she went a little heavier with the glitter on your eyes, using mostly whitish-silver colors, creating rosy cheeks and topping it with nude, glossy lips. Your hair is in loose curls with a bunch of extension, creating the illusion that you might as well be Rapunzel herself tonight. But you are the most excited about the gown that’s already waiting for you to be finally put on.

“What time is it?” you ask Florence as you don’t have your phone on you, but she has hers in her hands already.

“We still have half an hour before we have to leave. Dude, I can’t believe you are an Oscar nominee and might turn into a winner tonight!” she sighs, eyes shining bright with excitement. She hasn’t come off of this high for days, so over the Moon that you get to walk the red carpet tonight as a nominee.

“Don’t jinx it, Flo,” you warn her.

There’s a knock on the door of the hotel suit you’ve occupied for the glamming and Florence is quick to rush to it answering, but you both know who it is. As she throws the door open Harry comes to your sight, looking  as handsome as ever, wearing his custom made Gucci suit with a pink dress shirt underneath that matches your gown perfectly.

“Florence, you look wonderful!” his british accent fills the room, making you smile. Rhonda sets your makeup with some spray and you’re finally done. Standing up you move your legs around a bit as they went a little numb from all the sitting.

“Thank you! Pink suits you well, Harry,” your friend compliments your man and you watch them smiling.

When Harry’s eyes set on you, the light up, his smile widening from ear to ear. He looks spotless, freshly shaved, his hair recently cut and combed into place for a change. Not that you don’t like it when it’s all tousled and messy, especially when it’s because of your fingers.

“Angel, wow!” he breathes out as he walks up to you, taking your hands in his. You know he wants to kiss you, but doesn’t want to risk messing your lips up, so he is left with admiring you with only his eyes.

“Just wait until you see her in the dress!” Florence chimes in making you chuckle. You kept your dress a secret, wanting to surprise him with the first look. You gave out only the most necessary details for Lambert so the two of you could match.

“You’d be great like this too,” he teases, taking a look at your fluffy robe.

“I’m not going to the Oscars in a robe,” you tell him with a narrow-eyed look.

“I know, I’m just saying that you’d still be stunning,” he mumbles with a boyish smirk.

“Y/N? Time to choose a necklace!” Your stylist, Rupert appears from the room where your gown is hanging. He has a few jewelry boxes in his hands and he sets them all to the coffee table, opening up you are met with four breathtakingly beautiful diamond necklaces, each of them different yet so magical looking, you can’t decide which one you like the most.

“Harry, which one do you like the most?” you ask, kneeling down next to the table, mesmerized by the jewelries in front of you. Harry leans down and inspects them one by one before poking on the last one in the row. It has three rows of diamonds, not too big, the stones in the last row are shaped like water droplets, it’s such an elegant looking piece, it surely caught your eyes as well and you think it would be perfect with the dress.

“This one,” he tells you and you nod, shutting the other boxes, satisfied with the choice.

“Alright, time to get you into the gown, girl,” Rupert winks, gesturing at you to follow him into the room.

“I’ll be right back,” you tell Harry, risking a quick peck on his lips before you disappear in your temporary dressing room.

You fell in love with the gown on the first fitting when Rupert pulled it out, still in the finishing phase. It still has pins in it, but it already took your breath away. It has a massive A-line skirt and a tight upper part that hugs your body perfectly, a row of buttons running down the middle of it. The sleeves are puffy, but then end in a tight run from a little above your wrists, the same set of buttons appearing like on your chest. It’s giving out some Victorian style vibes in a more sophisticated and simpler way, but it’s by far your favorite dress you’ve ever worn to any event.

It surely needs the extra pair of hands from Rupert to put it on, but once you are secured in it, you feel like a princess straight out of a fairytale and surely, your prince is standing on the other side of the double doors.

“Alright! Everyone get ready for the big reveal!” Rupert announces, sneaking out the room so he can open the door for you. He waits a few moments as you hear everyone shuffle around outside, probably lining up to see you walk out in your finished state. “Okay, three! Two! One! Welcome our Oscar nominee!” he cheers, a round of applause is heard before you even appear, but it’s quickly replaced with gasps when Rupert pulls the doors open and they get the first glimpse of you in your gown.

“Holy fuck!” Florence gasps, mouth hanging open as she keeps raking your form up and down. Your eyes find Harry’s gaze and you see him in a state you haven’t often found him in the past almost two years you’ve been dating. He is completely speechless, eyes glued to you in awe as if he just saw an angel in real life.

“Y/N, I—wow,” he breathes out, still at a loss of words.

“You like it?” you ask with a shy smile.

“I fucking love it, baby. You look… You really are an angel,” he tells you, making you chuckle at his words.

“Would you please help me put on the necklace?” you ask him and he nods eagerly, carefully taking the jewelry out of its box and walking behind you, he brings it around your neck, his fingers delicately working on the clasp. Once it’s all set, you step to the floor to ceiling mirror, taking in the final look.

“There won’t be a straight woman left on Earth once you step on the red carpet,” Florence bluntly comments, making everyone in the room laugh.

“Let’s take some photos, I need to immortalize this masterpiece,” Rupert gestures around, already grabbing his camera.

The next ten minutes you take hundreds of photos, alone, with Florence and then with Harry. He still seems a little stunned by your look, feeling shy when he circles his arm around your waist, but it’s cute that you can still have such an effect on him after being together for almost two years.

Florence snaps some with your phone as well, your favorite is when he held your waist and leant you back, making you arch backwards as your noses touched since he couldn’t kiss you. You already know it’ll end up as your lockscreen, replacing the selfie the two of you took on your latest trip to Hawaii.

When it’s time to leave you grab your little purse with your phone and other necessities and the three of you pile up in a minivan, since your dress needs all the space so it doesn’t get wrinkled before you step out to the red carpet.

As you sit in the car and watch the buildings pass by, your nerves start to rise in you. When the nominations came out a month ago it seemed so far, you couldn’t imagine yourself actually attending the Academy Awards, but now here you are, on your way to find out if you’ve been good enough to be the best.

Your role in Sinful Heaven has brought a lot to your life aside from the nomination. The three months of filming was one of the hardest times in your life you’ve ever worked through and at some points, you didn’t even think you’d get through it. Working so closely with Levi took a toll on you while you were trying to prove in such a heavy and serious role. It was a mess especially at the beginning when you and Harry were still in this weird phase, but that eventually turned right when he literally punched Levi in the face and ten minutes later asked you to be his girlfriend. It’s a badass way to start a relationship and you wouldn’t trade it for anything, especially because it put Levi into place or at least scared him enough to get off your back for the rest of the filming.

When Harry left following that visit, you couldn’t see each other until filming wrapped and you flew straight to him and travelled with him for the next two weeks, hopping from one city to the other, watching him perform every other night and spending all your time with him.

When the movie premiered eight months later, you didn’t appear with Harry by your side, Maya was your date for the evening, but by that time everyone knew you and Harry are an official couple. Neither of you felt like hiding it or caring about what others would think and you were able to focus on each other and rely on the strong foundation you’ve built for your relationship.

He was there with you when the nominations came out and probably screamed louder when your name appeared in the list. With tearing eyes and choked out sobs you jumped into his arms as he mumbled into your ear.

“I’m so proud of you, Angel. So, so proud!”

And now you are on your way to the show, only hours away from finding out if your dreams will come true tonight. Harry squeezes your hand and you turn to face him, his soft eyes meeting yours.

“Nervous?” he asks with a small smile.

“Very,” you admit with an airy chuckle.

“Whatever happens tonight, I’m very proud of you. Don’t forget that.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, giving his hand a squeeze back.

Since it’s the first time you and Harry appear on the red carpet as a couple, once you set your feet out of the car, everyone goes nuts. He helps you out and even fixes your dress so it falls just perfectly around your frame before he offers his arm. You link your through it, taking a deep breath as the two of you start walking down the carpet, posing for the photographers.

You feel powerful and strong, like it’s the peak of your career, but you also feel that it wouldn’t be the same without Harry by your side even though he is making sure to let you shine tonight. At one point he even steps back for a moment so photographers can snap you alone and you think it’s such a caring move from him.

You feel a little dizzy from all the flashlights by the time you walk into the theater, Harry holding your hand tightly as he leads you to your seats.

You’ve been to plenty award shows and it’s not even your first Academy Awards appearance either, but for obvious reasons, it’s the most important. Sitting in your plush chair, you can barely stop yourself from continuously fidgeting as one category follows the other and it’s still not yours.

Then following a jaw-dropping performance from Dua Lipa, Chris Evans walks out with a golden statue and an envelope in his hands and your heart skips a beat, but not because of the man himself, but because you know he is the presenter of the Best Actress category.

Your hold on Harry’s hand on your lap tightens and you glue your eyes to the big screens behind Chris as he smiles around.

“Good evening. It’s a pleasure to be here and to present the award for Best Actress. The theater tonight is filled with exceptional talents, but let’s see the nominees,” he speaks into the microphone and then he starts listing the names.

Emma Stone, Anne Hathaway, Margot Robbie and Rooney Mara are called and a camera fixates on each of them when Chris says their names, all smiling brightly and waving around before your name is called at the end. Taking a deep breath you plaster your most wonderful smile across your face, waving around like the other nominees did before the big screen splits, showing the five of you simultaneously.

“We’ve seen some spectacular performances from these ladies and now let’s see who proved herself to be the best this year.”

Chris flips the envelope open and pulls the little paper out that has the winner’s name written on it and for a moment you’re convinced you’ll pass out. You’ve never felt this anxious before and you’re gripping Harry’s hand so tightly you’re surprised he hasn’t pulled it back, but he is patiently putting up with your nerves, his eyes glued to the man on the stage as well.

“And the Academy Award for Best Actress goes to…” Chris starts with a charming smile, holding a short pause before he finally says the name. “Y/N Y/L/N for her role as Marie Davidson in Sinful Heaven!”

Your mouth hangs open, ears ringing as you process that your name was called. Everyone around you jumps up, including Harry, who is screaming just like when the nominations came out, while you are completely blank. It takes you a couple of moments to realize that you in fact just won your first Oscar and everyone is waiting for you to go and get your little statue.

“Baby! Baby you won!” Harry cheers as he helps you up from your seat and you throw yourself into his arms as reality sets in. “I fucking love you, Angel. Go and get your Oscar!” he laughs, pride all over his face as he urges you to walk up to the stage.

“Walk me up, please!” you stammer, not trusting yourself with walking in this fragile state. He offers his hand without a second thought, walking you to the stage where Chris is politely waiting for you to help you up on the stairs.

“Thank you,” you breathe out once you’re finally up on the stage, every set of eyes on you as Chris hands you the little statue.

“Congratulations,” he smiles as the two of you exchange two kisses on the cheeks before he steps aside and lets you give a speech.

You thought about writing a few words beforehand, but you figured if you end up being the winner you’d forget the whole thing, so there would be no use and that’s the case. Your mind is still blank as you look down at the award in your hands, the crowd still cheering on you, giving you a few extra moments to figure out what to say.

“I uhh—I don’t even know what to say, this feels like a dream,” you admit talking into the microphone, the clapping dying down so that everyone can hear your words. “I want to thank to everyone who worked on Sinful Heaven, because I wouldn’t be here without them. To my wonderful director and amazing costars, it’s been such a wonderful journey with you all. Thank you to my friends and family who were there with me from the very start, believing in me when I was losing faith in myself, thank you for never giving up on me. To my parents who I assume are now crying in front of the TV,” you add chuckling softly, imagining your mom and dad in tears as they listen to your words. “This is a wonderful sign to me that I am where I need to be and that I’m on the right path, so thank you for giving me even more motivation to keep me going on my way.”

Your eyes roam around all the guests until they fall on one proud man staring at you in his Gucci suit and pink dress shirt, his green eyes looking glossy as he listens to your words.

“And last but not least, thank you to one special person, because I’m convinced I wouldn’t be here tonight without him. I have one thing to tell you.” Forgetting about everyone in the theater you hold up the Oscar in your hand as you finish your speech: “Never have I ever loved someone like I love you.”

The crowd starts cheering again as you step away from the microphone and Chris is quick to jog up to you and help you down the stairs, Harry rushing back to take your hand once Chris lets go of it.

You catch him wipe a tear off his cheek as the two of you walk back to your seats hand in hand. Once you are settled, you take a deep breath and turn to Harry who is already looking at you, the same proud smile you saw from the stage still on his handsome face.

“I have never,” he tells you as his answer to the last line of your speech and you chuckle as your free hand finds the back of his neck, pulling him close. The lipstick on your lips long forgotten as you finally kiss him for the first time tonight.

“I have never either,” you whisper against his lips before kissing him again and again.

***

  Smiling around you wait for the audience to quiet down as you make yourself comfortable in the familiar armchair. It’s such a nostalgic feeling to sit here again.

“Y/N, it’s so nice to have you here again,” Ellen greets you once the clapping has stopped.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course. A lot has happened since the last time you were here, you won an Oscar just a few weeks ago, congratulations!”

The cheering starts again as a picture of you appears on the screen behind you, wearing your iconic pink gown, holding your Oscar in your hands.

“Thank you,” you shyly smile, still not entirely in peace with the fact that you are now an Oscar winning actress.

“Such a major thing, congrats.”

“Thank you, it is a huge thing, yes.”

“Do you already have a spot for the award? Does it have a designated place?”

“Well, for now it is in my study along with some more mementos, but I’m planning to have a little stand made in the living room,” you share your plans.

“Surely, I would want to show it off if I had an Oscar,” Ellen chuckles. “You have such a busy time behind you, have you been up to something new lately?”

“We finished filming the third season of The Umbrella Academy, so now I’m having a little break before I jump into anything new.”

“Sounds nice, you deserve all the relaxing. Anything planned while you’re on a break? A new book to read, or maybe a concert to go to?” she asks and you already know where this is heading.

“You know you can just ask if I’m planning to attend a Harry Styles concert,” you bluntly tell her, making the audience and Ellen laugh.

“Well, I was just asking around about your plans, but I’m happy you plan to visit Harry’s concert! It’s also good to know that the situation has changed since the last time you were here, you definitely have been to one of his concerts since then.”

“I have been, yes,” you admit smirking.

“And I assume the two of you are now very close, am I right?” she asks and suddenly a paparazzi photo of the two of you appears where you’re walking down the street hand in hand just a couple of weeks ago.

“You could say that,” you nod, biting into your bottom lip.

“Amazing, because he is going to join us now. Everyone, please welcome Harry Styles!” Ellen announces and turning around you spot Harry walking out from backstage, the audience screaming for him. He shyly waves around walking up to the center, greeting Ellen with a kiss on the cheek before he turns to you, pecking your lips shortly as he sits down next to you.

“Harry, so good to see you again,” Ellen smiles at him.

“Good t’ see you as well,” he nods.

“So, the last time you two were sitting here, you—it was the first time you ever met, right?”

“Right,” you nod with Harry.

“And now you are…” she gestures at the two of you, not finishing the sentence, but everyone knows what she meant by that.

“And now we are… not strangers anymore,” Harry says chuckling, making everyone in the studio laugh.

“Certainly,” Ellen nods. “Alright, I thought that we could play another game, just to bring back some nice memories,” she explains, reaching behind her armchair, grabbing the familiar board from her, flipping it in your hands with a nostalgic smile.

“Can we keep it PG rated though?” Harry asks, examining his board before looking up at Ellen.

“No,” she simply answers, reaching for her cards as the audience starts laughing. “Okay, you know how to play it, no need for explanation. Here is the first one: Never have I ever used my fame to get in somewhere.”

Ellen is quick to show the I HAVE side of her board and you slowly do the same while Harry thinks to himself.

“Oh come on, you surely have,” you elbow him playfully as he smirks in your way, holding up the same side as you and Ellen.

“We all have, it’s not a shame,” Ellen shrugs. “Next one. Never have I ever forgotten the name of someone right after they introduced themselves.”

Ellen holds up the I HAVE side and you do the same again while this time Harry flips it over to I HAVE NEVER confidently.

“Really?” Ellen asks him, surprised at his answer.

“I’m good with names,” he simply shrugs.

“That’s a good trait. Alright, let’s move on. Never have I ever punched someone in the face.”

It’s a sneaky and very shady statement. Just a few days after the incident with Levi, word got out that he was punched, a few blurry pictures floating around the internet of his bruise, then fans figured out it had to happen around the time Harry visited set and people were quick to put the picture together and assume that Harry was the one who hit Levi, but it was never confirmed.

Glancing at your boyfriend you are fighting your smile back, holding up the I HAVE NEVER side as he is looking back at you slyly, continuously flipping his board before it finally lands on I HAVE, the audience immediately rumbling at the partial confirmation and seemingly Ellen is also amazed by Harry’s honesty.

“Alright, interesting. Love that for you, Harry,” he comments making everyone laugh as you reach over and give Harry’s hand a squeeze. “Last one,” Ellen announces, reading the last statement from her cards. “Never have I ever fallen in love with someone I played never have I ever with.”

Ellen quickly shows her I HAVE NEVER side as you suck your lips into your mouth, glancing at Harry again. You share a look before you both slowly raise your boards, both reading the same sign on them: I HAVE.

[caloriegenie]

Thinspo Imagine #1 - Back to College

You awake slowly, light pouring through the window at the foot of your bed and dancing across your eyelids. You stretch your legs under the covers, and the fabric floats across your smooth, freshly-shaven shins like butter. Taking a deep breath in, you extend a slender arm toward your nightstand and disconnect the charger from your phone, letting it drop to the floor.

Your phone displays 7:28 AM, two minutes before your alarm was set to go off. You don't have class until 9 AM, but you like the extra time to enjoy your coffee and make a to-do list for the day before your roommates wake up. You're used to waking up early since your body now requires less sleep, no longer overburdened with excess food to digest.

You grin, having beat the startling sound of your alarm, and slide your thin legs out from under the covers and over the side of your bed, nestling your toes into the carpet beneath. You habitually reach for your water bottle and take a few big sips, which sends a chill down your throat to your empty stomach.

You suddenly realize how cold your now-exposed skin feels, despite the late August weather. You think back to the previous summer, when you always woke up drenched in sweat, no matter what you wore to sleep.

You pad over to your dresser, which is nearly overflowing with new pieces you never thought you would be able to wear: crop tops, skirts, and workout sets, all in smaller sizes than you have worn since middle school. You elect a basic cropped white tank, which would have looked like a sausage casing on you 6 months ago, and a pair of ripped, light-wash jeans that leave a gap around your slim ankles.

Before changing, you pause in front of the mirror on the back of your door and can't help but smile at your reflection - pronounced collar bones, toned muscles, smooth skin; nothing bulging out or jiggling. You turn from side to side and fail to find an unattractive angle.

You slip off your pajamas and pull your scale out from under your bed. You take a breath, settling the butterflies in your stomach, which you know are pointless. You reached your ultimate goal weight weeks ago and haven't fluctuated more than two pounds in either direction since.

You step onto the scale, and it displays your ultimate goal weight, plus just .3 lb. You exhale and smile, your confidence instantly restored.

In the bathroom, you wash your face, which has been perfectly clear since you started eating healthier, and brush your teeth, pearly white from the past week's whitening strips. You apply moisturizer and simple makeup - mascara to your top lashes and a bit of powder to maintain your glow - and even in the bathroom's harsh lighting, your slender face looks full of life. After deodorant and a spritz of your new perfume, you collect a pair of Birkenstocks and your backpack from your room and head downstairs.

You scroll through Tumblr while your Keurig spits out steaming hot coffee, which you now prefer black, and like a recipe for soy-and-ginger-glazed salmon. Since reaching your goal weight, you've enjoyed trying out new recipes while working on eating intuitively. You constantly fear that you'll regain all the weight, but each day that goes by makes you feel more and more self-assured.

You sit down at the table in the living room with your coffee mug and your planner, gently crossing one leg over another - a gesture so simple you that you weren't able to do comfortably for years. Now you cross your legs all the time, as if to show off to yourself. You work on your to-do list and listen to the Spotify playlist you spent the plane ride back to campus crafting.

Your roommates gradually emerge from their rooms one by one, shuffling to and from the shared bathroom, while you make yourself a parfait - plain low-fat yogurt, fresh strawberries, and your favorite dark chocolate granola. You know exactly how many calories are in an exact measurement of each ingredient, but you instead eyeball the portion size and remind yourself that the protein and nutrients are necessary to fuel your body.

When you've eaten almost the whole bowl and put your rinsed dishes in the dishwasher, you check your Apple watch, ensuring you are on schedule to walk to your first class of the semester with some time to spare. You say goodbye to your roommates and step out onto the porch, looping a slender arm through the strap of your backpack.

You wonder if your classmates will look at you differently - if people will notice how much weight you've lost, or if they'll think you're someone else entirely. You think about what it will be like to arrive to class without being winded from carrying so much extra weight up the hill to campus; to sit in the lecture hall without your thighs pressing against the underside of the flip-down desk; to catch the eye of a stranger who finds your attractive.

You've always imagined these things, but now you don't have to. Now, they're real.

[sunmoonandeddie]

who you are and who you’ve been

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 8,490

summary: Sometimes love takes a little longer to find you.

warnings: SMUT.  Mention of past abusive relationship, drinking, swearing.

a/n:  Thank you so much to @zeilenkrieg for commissioning this and being so patient while I wrote it!!

“Mama!  Mama!  You here?”

You sighed as you looked up from your coffee, seeing your daughter coming through the living room.  She had on that pair of daisy dukes that she stole from your wardrobe—the ones you used to wear in the heat of summer, a white shirt tied to let the sun on your tummy.  You used to scandalize your own mama with that outfit… 

You had argued with her that she had worn the same kind of outfit back in the seventies, and that vintage was in.  But she liked to wear hers with cowboy boots and you preferred it with a good pair of sneakers.

God, you missed being young…  Your twenties had been absolutely wild, even if they had started out with that horrible pandemic in 2020.

You still washed your hands after touching almost anything.  An instinct that never went away.

That year and the couple years before had been… insane.  But at least it incited real change in the world.  The people had learned from their mistakes, at least for now.

History did have a habit of repeating itself.  Humans were fickle, forgetful creatures like that.

“Yes, honey bun?” You said as you stood up, moving to hug her.

At thirty-seven years old, she was the only good thing that ever came out of your marriage.  That, and knowing how to wash blood out of clothing.

The only problem was that by the time you’d finally left him, you had no friends left.  You were in your forties by then, with no family besides your daughter, and no friends left to speak of.  You hadn’t even had Facebook at the time to keep in touch with old schoolmates from university.  And by then, what was the point?  They were all leading completely different lives and probably hadn’t spared you a thought in at least a decade.

“When’s the last time you left the house?” She asked, her hands on her hips in a stance that reminded you so much of yourself that it scared you.

Now that… that was hard to answer…  You honestly didn’t think you’d be able to remember.  You got practically everything delivered, you worked from home… 

Shaking your thoughts away, you shot her a look.  “I’m fine right where I am.”

“Your doctor called and said you haven’t been taking your medication.”

“Fuckin’ snitch,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you turned back to the window, staring down at the now cold coffee.

Josephine rolled her eyes.  “He said you haven’t picked up your refill in over two months.”  She came over to stand next to you, staring out the window with you for a long time.  “Mama, you’ve gotta take your medicine…  You remember what happened last time…”

Ah, yes, the infamous incident.

Which was an incident in a long line of incidents.

There had been a… few times when you’d stopped taking your medication—either intentionally or simply because you had forgotten—and it had resulted in a stay in the psych ward at the local hospital.  It had happened far too many times for your daughter to not be in contact with your doctor so she would be informed if you had stopped getting your refills.

You didn’t blame her, of course.  But it did make you feel like a horrible mother.  One who couldn’t even take care of herself to the point where your daughter had to.

“Yes, I remember last time,” you sighed, staring at a cardinal.  “You know, my mama used to tell me that if you see a cardinal, a loved one who’s passed is visiting you…”

“Mama, I signed you up for a seniors’ social club.”

You blinked.

And then, you blinked again.

You turned to look at your daughter, disbelief written all over your face.  “No the fuck you did not.  I swear to all that is holy, Josephine Ann, if you signed me up for one of those… those… pre-death support groups, I’ll tan your hide!”  You gasped as some of your coffee splashed onto your sweatshirt.  “I brought you into this world, and I sure as hell can take you out of it!”

“You’ve been saying that since I was two,” She said, taking your arm and guiding you to sit down at the kitchen table.  “And it’s not a pre-death support group.  I feel like that’s offensive somewhere so make sure you don’t go running around the group saying that.”  Josephine used a paper napkin to dab at the coffee on your sweatshirt, muttering about throwing it into the wash and getting you a new one.

This was what you meant by your daughter taking care of you.

“Josie, really, I can get my own sweatshirt.”

“Doesn’t mean you gotta,” she said as she came back with a new one, helping you change.

Sometimes you felt like she thought you were a hundred years old.

“Honestly, mama…  I just want you to be happy…  You should have friends.  You shouldn’t be cooped up in this house all day, all the time.”

“What do I need friends for when I’ve got you?  And Danny?” You asked.

But you had been hit with the sudden reality that except for Josephine and her girlfriend, you were alone.  Completely, and utterly, alone.  Hell, they were the only people you had ever invited over to the tiny one bedroom you owned.

Repairmen didn’t count because they were there to do a job, not keep you company.

God, you had wanted more than this, once upon a time.  You had once had dreams, of maybe being a writer and making the New York Times’ Bestsellers List, of a husband who adored you and brought you flowers every Friday, of lazy Sundays eating waffles on the couch with the love of your life.

But life didn’t end up the way you had dreamed it.  There were no book signings or meetings with editors… there were no gardenias… and there was no smell of waffles and syrup.

And you’d made your peace with that.

Sort of.

Josephine’s arms wrapped around you as she rested her head against yours.  Like a mirror of yourself, she was, from her face down to her toes.

Thank god.  She didn’t deserve to have to look in the mirror and see reflections of her father.

“Will you at least try it?” She asked gently, her hand running up and down your arm, her freshly manicured nails tickling your skin.  “It’s not like a pre-death support group, as you call it…  It’s for seniors or people who are approaching seniority and are still active and want to go out and have fun, but maybe need some friends to do it with.  Please?”

And how could you say no when she wanted something so badly?

“Alright,” you said after a moment.  “I’ll go once.  And if it’s horrible, I’m not going back.  And I’m gonna tell Danny how you forced me to meet a bunch of strangers.”

She squealed excitedly, running off to your bedroom and going through your closet.  “Okay, the first thing the group is doing is having a first meeting at a bar, and we’re gonna get you all done up.”

Oh, good.  She was going all in.

“When’s the first meeting?” You asked as you sat on the bed, leaning back on your hands as you watched her.

“Tonight.”

Uh.  What?

“TONIGHT?!” You shouted in shock as you jumped up.  “What?!  You didn’t think to ask me about this a few days ago?!”

She snorted, picking out a few tops that you hadn’t worn in what felt like decades.  “I signed you up this morning, I didn’t know about it a few days ago.”

You watched in exasperation as she threw article after article of clothing onto the bed for you to try on.  “I don’t think I need to wear four pairs of jeans to a bar,” you said, beginning to pick up a few of the pieces.

Josephine gave you a look as she continued.  “Considering how long it’s been since you’ve been out, I think it’s fair that some of these might not fit anymore.”

Well, you had lost some weight…  Not necessarily in a healthy way, but she was right.

In the end, she ended up shoving you into the bathroom and forced you to do a full shower—which meant body and hair.

You hadn’t even gone to such lengths when you were going on your first date with her father.

She spent hours on your hair and makeup, chattering away excitedly about the vacation her and Danny were planning.  A South American cruise.

Josephine had never married, never had kids.  Never wanted to after seeing what her daddy had put you through.  It left a sour taste in her mouth, and even though it was legal now, her and her girlfriend hadn’t breathed a word of a wedding.

Though, you suppose they had a common law marriage at that point, if lesbians were included in it.

“Perfect,” she said as she got you to slip on an old jacket of yours that was a little too big.  “Come on.  I’ll drive you and pick you up.”

“Oh, honestly,” you snorted as you grabbed the purse Josephine had shoved all your things into.  “You’d think I could take an Uber.”

The bar wasn’t what you had expected when she had first told you that’s where the meeting was going to be held.  The last bars you’d been to had practically been nightclubs.

But this was… upscale.  Sophisticated.

Now you understood just why she had put so much work into making you look presentable.

It didn’t look like anyone else was there yet, even though most of the patrons were around your age, so you took a seat at the bar, the group’s site pulled up on your phone.

“What can I get for you, miss?” The bartender asked as he set down a coaster in front of you.

A snort erupts from your throat as you look at him.  “You always call women as old as me miss?”

“Oh, come on, you’re a catch,” he said, shooting you a playful wink.  “My dad’s single, you know.  If you were… looking.”

“Thank you, but I’m not,” you said gently, your cheeks flushed.  “Can I get a Manhattan?”

The bartender nodded, gracefully backing off the subject of you possibly dating his father.  And barely a minute and a half later, there’s a perfectly made Manhattan set on your coaster.

You’d barely taken a sip before someone came up beside you.  “Do you have Macallan’s 18 Year Sherry Oak?” A man asked.  At the bartenders confirmation, he hummed.  “Can I get a double on the rocks?”

The bartender dropped a large ball of ice into a glass before pouring two shots of whiskey over it and handing it to the man.

“Macallan’s, huh?” You said softly, your heart pounding.  Josephine had told you to make friends.  That was the whole point of this, even if the man wasn’t part of the social club you’d been forced into.  “You know your whiskeys.”

The tall man took a seat beside you, his eyes boring into the side of your face.  You hadn’t dared look at him yet.  “I’ve always preferred those who choose a Manhattan over a martini any day.”

“And why is that?” You asked, finally looking up at him.

And oh, you wished you hadn’t.  He was… stunning.  The very definition of male beauty.  His salt and pepper hair reminded you of the photos of the men in the forties…  The 1940s, that is.  Blue eyes so striking that you lost your breath, and broad shoulders that you knew would haunt your dreams.  He was wearing a glove on his left hand for some reason, but you didn’t linger on it too long.

But at least he was at least your age, if not a little older.  You’d die if you’d just sort of flirted with a twenty-something asshole who just bought expensive whiskeys for the sake of buying expensive whiskeys to show that he had money to blow.

“Martini drinkers think they’ll get some kind of award for their choice of drink,” he said, “as though choosing a drink that generally tastes like shit is some kind of accomplishment.  Unless you’re just taking a shot, a drink should taste good.”  He looked you up and down, letting his pretty blues linger on your lips.  There were faint crow feet at the corners of his eyes, but they just seemed to make him even more handsome.  “And a Manhattan doesn’t need a fancy whiskey.  It is steady and sure even with the cheapest five dollar bottle you can get from a gas station.  Someone whose drink of choice is a Manhattan is sure of who they are and what they want.”

You hadn’t felt this hot under a man’s gaze in decades.  “Really?”  Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you took another sip of your drink to buy you a moment.

“Mmm…”  He stole one of the two cherries from your drink, biting it off the stem.  You were transfixed as he slipped the stem into his mouth, sticking his tongue out about thirty seconds later with a perfect cherry stem knot on display.  “Really.  I’m James.  What’s your name?”

Butterflies filled your stomach as you gave him your name.  God, you felt like you were sixteen again and being flirted with for the first time.

His eyes flicked down to your open phone that rested on the bar, the social club’s page still up.  “You’re here for the meeting, too?”

“Um…  Yes,” you said, ducking your head.

“But, doll…”  He leaned towards you, a charming smile on his lips.  “You don’t look a day over thirty-five.  Are you sure you’re a senior?”

Blinking, your mouth hung open in a soft o.  “Are you planning on flirting with every woman in the club like this?”

James looked around dramatically, his gloved hand resting over his heart.  “A club?!  Is that what you call this place?” He asked, mockingly serious.  “Damn, what does that make all those dirty, gross places these young kids go to now?  Brothels?”

For some reason, you felt comfortable enough to shove his shoulder, surprised a little at the feeling of metal under his jacket sleeve.

For the first time, he looked a bit… uncomfortable.  He had flinched a bit, his bright eyes focused surely on his drink.  “Um…”

“You’re the Winter Soldier.  James Barnes,” you said curiously, your head tilting to the side as you looked at him.  “I thought I recognized you from somewhere.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Mmhm,” you drawled, taking the cherry left in your drink and biting it off in a way that you hoped was alluring.  “Though, I gotta say, it is a bit awkward to meet the man I wrote two papers about in high school.”

Shit, his laugh was beautiful.  Everything about him was beautiful.  Like Apollo or something...

James’s head was thrown back in laughter.  His cheeks were flushed, his eyes squeezed shut.  “Did you actually write two papers about me?” He asked as he tried to catch his breath.  At your nod, he smirked, leaning in close again.  “What did you write about?  How devilishly handsome I am?”

You couldn’t believe you were saying this.  “I mean, I can show you the papers and actually let you read them, but they’re at my place.”

Before he could pick his jaw up off the ground, there were other seniors in the group coming up to greet you.  Your throat was dry as the Sahara as you turned to face them, plastering on a smile as you tried to ignore the heated gaze on your face and the way he licked his lips.

The meeting was… long.  Boring.

Or at least, that’s how it felt when you had James’s dark, sultry eyes on you the entire goddamn time.

Mind fuzzy, you vaguely remembered agreeing to come to the next meeting, and even signing up for a hiking trip they were taking the next weekend.

As you headed outside, you felt Bucky’s hand slip into yours, his long, calloused fingers intertwining with yours.  “So…  Am I gonna get to come over and… read those papers?” He murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

God, you could practically feel yourself bursting into flames.  You weren’t gonna survive.

Thank god your daughter had forced you into a full shower.

But what about how dirty your house was sure to be?

“Um…  Y-Yeah,” you said as you turned to look at him.  “But, my daughter is gonna be driving me home…  I don’t want her to know I’ve got someone coming over.  She’s nosey.  Real…  Real nosey.”

“Of course, darlin,’” he chuckled.  “Here, why don’t I give you my phone number, and you shoot me a text with your address when you’re ready for me to come over?”

Your head was swirling as you got into your daughter’s car, your phone burning a hole in your purse.

“How was it?” Josephine asked nervously once you got about halfway home.  She couldn’t tell from the look on your face.  “Did you like it?”

“Hm?  Yeah.”  Swallowing, you shot a text to James with your name, telling him you’d text him when it was all clear.

“Are you gonna go again?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

She seemed both dissatisfied and pleased by your vague answers.  At least you were getting out of the house.

Once you got home and said goodbye, it was a mad dash to ensure that your house was clean as could be.  Josie had put in some work while you’d been gone, it seemed.  She’d done the dishes and the laundry, as well as dusted.

Thank fuck.

You struggled for a solid twenty minutes to put fresh sheets and pillowcases on the bed, lighting two candles and placing them in a manner that you hoped seemed natural.

“Shit,” you cursed as you smelled under your arms.

Okay, quick body shower.  It seemed all that flirting had made you a tiny bit sweaty.

You turned the water to scalding and scrubbed your body down, exfoliating and using your best scented body wash.

And to be quite frank, you’d never shaved your lady bits as quick as that.

As you texted him your address and that it was safe to come over, you pulled on your clothing from the bar (though, you did put on nicer, matching lingerie underneath.)  By the time he’d gotten there, you’d downed two shots of tequila for a bit of liquid courage and had poured yourself a glass of wine.

“Hey, baby doll,” he said, a crooked grin on his face as you welcomed him inside.  His glove had been abandoned, and black metal fingers lined with gold glittered in the light.  “Woah…  You know, I wasn’t sure how your place was gonna look, but this is very… you.”

“Oh, really?” You asked as you offered him a glass of wine, which he gratefully took.  “How so?”

“I don’t know,” he chuckled as he swirled the deep red liquid in its glass.  “It’s cozy.  Sweet.”

Your throat was dry as you watched his adam’s apple bob as he took a drink.  “Um… so those papers…”

Bucky whispered your name, moving closer to you as he set the wine glass down on the counter.  “Baby girl, I’m not really here for the papers, am I?” He asked as your back hit the island.  “If I am…  If I am, then just tell me, and I’ll stop this.”  His slightly chapped lips ghosted against yours like the tease he was.  “Am I here just for the papers?”

“No,” you breathed out, before pressing your lips against his in a firm kiss at last.  His breath was minty and cool, with just a touch of the wine you’d been sharing, like he’d brushed his teeth before coming over just like you had.

Could it be possible he was just as nervous as you were?

But he was perfect?  Why the hell would he be nervous?

Your thoughts were cut short as he reached down, his hands firmly grabbing your ass as he lifted you up and set you on the counter.  “That’s a good girl,” he growled as he kissed down your neck, his hands working at your blouse.  “Couldn’t stop thinking about you during that whole stupid fucking meeting.  Just wanted to kiss you.  Just wanted to… to touch you.”  He pulled back, kissing you fiercely as his hands moved from your blouse to hold your face again.  “You gonna let me touch you, angel?”

A whine escaped your throat as you nodded, desperately yanking at his shirt.  Once it was off, you didn’t hesitate to run your hands over the broad planes of his chest.  He wasn’t quite as toned as you remembered from when you were younger, when you used to (occasionally) stalk (lightly) his social media accounts.  There’d been so many pictures of him on vacation with the other Avengers… all tanned and toned…

But you liked this better.  There was a softness to him now, a gentleness.

You were so distracted by his physique that you didn’t notice he’d gotten your shirt and bra off until the cold air hit your chest.  “Fuck,” you mumbled as his lips found your neck, trailing down to your breasts.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been kissed, let alone the last time you’d had such… attention.

Especially when his hands worked your pants off and he stood between your legs, moaning as his fingers tickled your thighs.  “You’re so beautiful,” he said as his lips wrapped around one nipple, suckling at it and teasing until it was diamond hard, and he moved on to the other.

Gotta be fair, after all.

“James…”

“Fuck, baby girl…  Never been with a woman as beautiful as you,” he growled, kissing down your tummy.  “You’re not making it out of here without orgasming at least twice,” he warned jokingly.  He was half bent over in front of the island, watching in wonder as he slowly pulled your silk panties down your legs and revealed your aching core to him.

“I-If you’re not comfortable standing like that, w-we can move somewhere else,” you stammered, suddenly growing self conscious.  What if he thought your pussy was weird?  Granted, you’d overcome thinking that when you were in your early twenties, after learning that each one looked different.

But he was born in the forties.

But that meant he’d probably seen an exponential amount of pussies!

Oh, god, there was no way you’d have anywhere near as much experience as him.  The only person you’d ever been with was your ex husband, and he wasn’t exactly the paradigm of lovers.

“Hey.”

You refocused with a shake of your head, your eyes meeting James’s.  “Yes?”

“You’re in your head,” he said softly, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly ran his fingers along your sensitive folds.  “There’s no need…  It’s just you and me, okay?  And you’re absolutely perfect.”

Your heart was melting inside your chest as you nodded, stealing a tentative kiss.  “Okay…  Just you and me.”

James nipped at your lower lip as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.  “Come on.  I don’t want our first time to be on a kitchen counter.  Though I make no promises I won’t help christen every inch of this house after,” he said with a playful growl.

You whispered directions to your bedroom as he held you tight to his chest, his lips finding purchase on your neck.  “And here I thought you said the super soldier serum was wearing off,” you joked.

The man snorted as he pushed you up against the hallway wall.  “Trust me, doll, no lack of super soldier serum is gonna stop me from fucking you right,” he said, his voice husky and deep.

Before you could even open your mouth to reply, two thick fingers were slipping inside of you to slowly tease your cunt, his lips ghosting over yours.  “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed at the whimper that fell from your lips.  “Y-Yes.  Yes.  Please, I need more, James…”

James smiled into the kisses he’d been giving you.  “I’ll give you everything you want.”

“That’s a tall order.”  You threaded your fingers through his hair, shivering at the way his metal fingers dug into the plumpness of your ass.  “You sure you can fill it?”

He doesn’t respond with words, growling as he kisses you fiercely, carrying you to the bedroom.  You don’t have time to think before he’s crawling over you and kissing up your tummy to your lips.  “I need to be inside you,” He whispered as he stroked his length.

“Please…  Don’t wanna wait anymore,” you said.  Vaguely, you’re aware of the twinge in your knees from all the physical activity, and you knew you’d be sore as hell in the morning.

Fucking worth it, though.

James didn’t hesitate to line himself up, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance.  When he finally pushed in, unison moans fill the air.

“I…  I haven’t done this in… so long,” you finally admitted as he slowly pushed in more, taking his time.  Eyes locked, your mouth fell open in a soft ‘o’ as he bottomed out, his hips meeting yours.  “Oh, fuck…”

“Then I better do a real good job fucking you right.”

You weren’t quite sure how long you two lasted, but you do know he manages to pull three orgasms out of you in the space of just a few hours.  There’s snack and water breaks in between rounds, his cool metal hand running up and down your spine to cool you down as you two whisper in the dim light of your desk lamp.

You can’t remember a time that you’d felt so at peace.

A spark had been lit inside your chest as you two laid there in bed, legs intertwined.  Both of you were quiet, his fingers moving to caress your cheek.

There were no words that needed to be said.

His sea blue eyes are sparkling in the dim light, and your hand runs over the sharp stubble that lines his jaw.  It had certainly marked up your neck.

“I had intended on asking you on a date,” he said quietly as his hand found yours, bringing it to his mouth.  Chapped lips kissed each of your knuckles like you were something precious, something to behold.  “I didn’t think the five minutes or so before the meeting counted…  But I’d still like to take you on that date, if you’ll let me.”

“That sounds nice,” you said, a grin twinging at the corners of your lips.

“Yeah?” He asked, sitting up a bit as his fingers brushed against your forehead.

“Yeah.”  A giggle escaped your lips as he playfully tackled you, starting yet another round as his hips rolled down against yours.

The next morning, you woke up alone.  The sheets beside you were mussed, though the space James had been occupying was still a bit warm.

Jazz music floated down the hall, through the cracked door, and you could vaguely hear the clinking of pans.

It took you a minute to gather the will to get yourself out of bed and find your robe, but you finally did it.  As your feet hit the ground and you pushed yourself to a stand, you winced.

You had been right about feeling it in your knees.

You forced yourself to walk smoothly down the hall, despite how much it hurt.  Embarrassing yourself in front of James was the last fucking thing you wanted to do.

He was in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove and humming along with the old jazz song playing on the Bluetooth speaker.  He had a pan full of pancake batter in front of him, a whole stack he’d already made on the side.

Standing in the doorway, you couldn’t help but grin as you watched him.  He’s so handsome… and he seemed so at home in your kitchen.  In your home.

Maybe he’d like to move in…

You shook your head, knowing that it’s already too much.

But the thought was nice.

Him in his pajamas, making coffee…  Him in your shower…  Him in your bed every night…  

Yeah.  It’s a really, really nice thought.

“Hi.”

James jumped, his eyes wide as he whirled round to face you.  “Hi.  I thought I had another thirty minutes before I had to go and wake you up,” he said.  “I’m making pancakes.  For you.  For us.”  His cheeks flushed, turning a bright red as he turned back to the pan to quickly flip the pancake.  “I hope you don’t mind that I used your flour and shit…”

“Oh, no, I…  I almost never cook,” you admitted as you moved over to stand next to him, watching as he made two more pancakes.

As he carried the huge plate to the kitchen island, he teasingly grabbed your ass and squeezed.  “Maybe I’ll have to stay the night more often, if only so you get a homemade breakfast.”

It was sweet, and domestic, and somewhat terrifying.

You hadn’t had a man do anything for you like this since you were in your twenties, when your husband was still sweet and loving.

But even so, this was somehow better than anytime your husband made his famous burritos.

Maybe because James’s cooking actually tasted good.

Your first date was to a movie, a drive in.  Something that’s designed to be vintage but really just looked cheesy as all hell.

But it’s perfect.  Perfect and cheesy and romantic.

Your only complaint was that he didn’t kiss you at the door when he dropped you off.  He pressed his lips to your cheek and whispered a goodnight, and that was it.

It took two more dates within the same week for him to kiss you again.

Bright and early on the next Saturday morning, he knocked on your door, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“I figured I should make up for you having to be up so early with this,” he said as he came inside, kissing you quick before moving to put the flowers in a vase.

At this point, he knew your house almost as well as you did.  It felt good, when you two moved around like you were part of a team.

“Have you gotten your coffee this morning?” You asked, already pouring two travel mugs full of the good stuff.

He came up behind you, kissing your shoulder.  “I have, but you know I’ll never say no to more, doll.”

The rest of the group eyed you curiously as you got out of the same car, a few elbow nudges and whispers in the air.

“At least I know no old ass dickheads are gonna come hit on my girlfriend,” James growled in your ear, his calloused flesh hand squeezing your hip.

“Jamie…,” you whined, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.  No one had ever claimed you in such a way that made you feel so desired and… and worthy.

James made you feel worthy.

Which is something you’d only ever really gotten from your daughter.

It sent a bolt of arousal through you, and you were tempted to drag him back to the car so you could bring him right back home and do something about it.

Also…  Girlfriend?  Were you his girlfriend now?  Officially?

That just made you wanna find somewhere to fuck him even more.

But alas, you pushed the thought away as the lot of you boarded one of those white airport vans that took you out of the city to the closest state park.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed out as you stared out the window, forehead pressed to the cool glass.  The morning air was a bit chillier than it had been lately, signaling the coming onslaught of winter.

Maybe Bucky would wanna make hot cocoa together… go sledding…  Would him, Josephine, and Danny would all come over for Christmas and New Years and—

Would he even want to meet Josephine?

Would Josie wanna meet him?

She had no idea that you’d found a—A boyfriend?

“Not as beautiful as you,” Bucky murmured against the shell of your ear as his vibranium fingers intertwined with yours and squeezed.  His stubble tickled your neck as he rested his head on your shoulder, watching the passing scenery with you.  “I’m really glad I met you, doll…”

“Me, too,” you said, grinning as you squeezed his hand back and leaned your head against his.

It was strange, falling so hard for someone so quick after everything you’d been through.

But you had a gut feeling.  One that you had never had with your ex husband.

James was a good one.  A really, really good one.

That reminded you.

When were you meant to tell him about all the shit you’d been through?

Despite the amount of time you had spent together already, you hadn’t found the courage for it.

Soon, you decided.

But first, you had to get through the damn hike.

Bucky was glued to your side the entire time, even though you were a lot worse at hiking than he was.  He would hold your hand, guiding you anytime there was a fallen tree or a creek.  His blue eyes were soft as he murmured encouragement, quietly praising your every move.

It was intoxicating.

So when you two fell behind from the group, watching them go around a curve and down a hill, you dragged James behind a large rock formation.

“Baby doll?  Darling, what the hell are you doing?” He laughed as you pressed a fierce kiss to his lips.

“Can’t a girl be spontaneous?” You teased as you dropped to your knees, ignoring the way a twig was poking into your left knee.  “Need to taste you.”

His eyes locked on you as you worked at his jeans, getting them down and off, his nails scratching at your scalp as he got a good grip on your head.  “Fuck…  Are you really this needy for me, angel?  Fuck, you’re so god damn gorgeous…  Look at you.”

Your heart pounded against your rib cage as you finally freed his length, a grin on your lips as you wrapped your hand around him and slowly stroked him.

Bucky’s eyes rolled back as your mouth wrapped around the head of his cock.  “Fucking shit…  Good girl…  Suck me off real good, baby.”

The group probably would notice your absence, not that you particularly cared.

Not when you had your man so weak for you.  And all you’d had to do was get on your knees.

His metal and flesh hands guided you to take more of him in, going at a slow pace so as not to hurt you.  He was so big there was no way you’d get all of him down your throat but what you couldn’t take in your mouth, you pleasured with your hands.

Pleasuring your partner like this was addicting.  You’d never felt the desire—no, the incessant need—to please your ex husband.  All you could think about was getting Bucky off, making him feel so good that he couldn’t see or walk straight.

You choked around him as you took him as deep as possible, your eyes glassy.  When you popped off, you stroked him as you moved down to carefully suck at his balls, fighting a grin as he gasped, his hips stuttering.  Before he could orgasm, you took him back in your mouth, wanting to swallow him down.

“Fuck, fuck—  Oh, shit…  Baby—  I’m gonna…  I’m gonna—”  Bucky broke off with a shout as he came, spilling down your throat.  His large hands stroked your cheeks as you swallowed all of it, barring the little bit that had gotten on your lower lip.  “You did so good, darling,” he cooed as he helped you stand, pressing you against the rock behind him as he kissed you.  “Are you okay?  I didn’t hurt you, right?”

“No, you didn’t,” you said, a faint smile on your lips as you helped him put himself back away.  “You were perfect, James…”

When you finally caught up to the group, a few of the others shot you knowing looks.

But Bucky just had a satisfied smirk on his lips, his hand tightly intertwined with yours even as you flushed in embarrassment.

“Once we get home, it’s your turn,” he whispered in your ear as you all headed back for the van.

Your relationship with James was… wonderful.

It was easy in a way you’d never had before.

Within just two months, he was living at your house almost full time, to the point where you’d been thinking about asking him to move in.

It was like you two were magnets.  Even when you both had work to do, you did it in the same room, slowly gravitating towards each other until you were sitting close, your foot running up his calf.

And he’d gotten you to start writing.

“It’s your dream, doll.  You’re never too old to chase your dreams,” he said one night as you two laid in bed.  His metal fingers were tracing shapes on your spine, a chill from the cracked window ruffling his sweaty hair.  “If you don’t mind me asking…  Why did you stop in the first place?”

Ah.

The conversation you’d been avoiding for so long.

Sitting up, you pressed your hands to your face as you tried to find the words to say.  “Um…  I was married before…  I know you know, but, uh…”  Your fingers fiddled together nervously.  You swallowed around the lump in your throat.  “My husband…  He wasn’t…  He wasn’t nice.  At all.”

Bucky immediately sat up behind you, his vibranium hand resting flat on your back to reassure you that he was there, and to give you something to focus on while you spoke.  He didn’t need to speak for you to know.  He was there and he wasn’t running.

“I married him young… and I had Josephine young…  He’d always been so… possessive, but I just considered it protective,” you continued, pulling strength from his touch to keep on going.  You needed to tell him this.  You needed him to understand.  “Then after Josie was born, he started getting violent.  He’d always been mean, but he’d never hit me until after I gave birth…”

James was tense behind you, slowly scooting over so he could wrap his arms around you, his legs resting on either side of yours as he held you.  He needed you close.  Needed to know you were safe in his arms and that man was long gone.

“Put me in the hospital a few times…  He at least didn’t do it in front of Josie.  That’s the one thing I asked of him that he listened to.”  You couldn’t help but snort as you slowly relaxed back against him.  “She always thought all the bruises and shit was just a side effect of how clumsy I am…  But she came home one day during college, to surprise us…  She walked in on him holding a frying pan above his head, about to swing again.  She jumped in between us and told him if he ever touched me again, she’d kill him.”  You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding as his lips pressed to your bare shoulder.  It was soothing, feeling his skin against yours.  “She moved me out of that house and into her apartment, helped me get the divorce, get back on my feet…”

“Remind me to tell Josephine thank you,” he said quietly as he squeezed you close.  “Thank you for telling me, doll…  I…  I can’t imagine how hard that was…  But he’ll never touch you again.  No one will ever touch you again if you don’t want it.”

“I know.”

He nuzzled into your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.  “I love you.  So much…”

A peace settled over you as you rested your head back against his, allowing yourself to truly fall into him, to relax.  “And I love you…”

After that night, Bucky slept over at your place five to six nights a week, only going home to get more clothes and do his laundry really, even though you’d told him a million times he could do it at your place.

“Wake up, sweetheart,” he murmured in your ear one morning, pushing your hair away from your face.  “Time to get up…  I’ve got breakfast ready for you…”

Groaning, you tried to pull him down for more cuddle time, but he wasn’t having it.  He always woke up before you, too many years a soldier coming into play.  He’d go for a run and make breakfast before waking you up.

“Come on, doll,” he chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips as he got you to sit up, your vision blurry from sleep still.  “Medicine,” he said, pressing your pills into your palm and putting a glass of water in your other. 

Ever since he’d found out about your prescriptions and how you had a hard time remembering to take them, he’d taken it upon himself to make sure you did, every morning and night without fail.

“What’d you make this morning?” You asked sleepily after swallowing your pills, letting him pull you to your feet.  His t-shirt clung to you as you followed him down the hall.  Your hand was tucked into his as you rounded the corner to the kitchen.

What neither of you had heard was the sound of the front door opening.

“Mama?!  What the hell?!” Josephine demanded, standing in the kitchen with Danny right behind her.  “Who the fuck is this?!  What is he doing here?!”

Oh.

Yeah.

You’d neglected to tell your daughter, afraid of how she might take it.

“Hello.  I’m James.  Or Bucky,” your boyfriend said as he held out his hand to you, clearly unashamed and standing his ground even though he was only wearing a pair of pajama pants.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Your daughter repeated angrily, ignoring his hand.

“Josie,” Danny began, trying to soothe her.

But your daughter was nothing but determined when she was in her protective mode.

Before you could open your mouth, Bucky supplied, “I’m her boyfriend.”

You felt a flush coming over you as she stared at the two of you, slack-jawed.  “He is,” you said, wrapping both of your arms around his metal one.  You were so nervous, you were shaking.

“When did this happen?!” She demanded, beginning to pace back and forth around the kitchen.

“Um…  The first meeting at the bar… for the club,” you said.  Seeing her so upset made your anxiety spike, and you knew James could feel it, could hear the way your heart rate increased exponentially.

Josephine whirled on you, her eyes—so much like yours—wide with disbelief.  No.  Betrayal.  “You’ve been seeing someone for almost three months and you didn’t tell me?”

“I…”  Tears pricked your eyes as you tightened your grip on Bucky’s arm.  This was not the way you wanted them meeting to go.  “I was scared… of how you’d react…”

At that moment, Bucky turned to meet your eyes, his forehead almost pressing against yours.  “Darling, I feel like this is a conversation you two should have alone, yeah?  So I’m gonna take—Danny, right?  Yeah—Danny to the living room with some coffee so we can get to know each other, okay?”

After a nod, and a squeeze of his hand, he got two mugs of coffee and led your daughter’s girlfriend to the living room.  You could see them sitting down from the corner of your eyes, but you were much too focused on Josephine.

“Mama, I—”

“I love him,” you said, before she could say anything more.

Her eyes were shining, locked on you as she waited for you to speak.  In her gut, she knew this was something you needed to get out.

“I love him more than I’ve ever loved a man.  More than I loved your father,” you whispered, your voice cracking.  “And I know…  I know you’re as protective as you are because you saw how he treated me.  You saw how much I hid that he was hurting you, but Jamie isn’t like that.”  Your fingers fiddled as you tried to keep yourself from pacing.  “He’s kind and adoring and gentle and…  and he loves me.  More than I thought anyone could ever love me.  And I know you feel like you need to take care of me and I am so grateful.  And I still need you.  Everyday.  But Bucky…  I love him.  I love him and he loves me and we take care of each other.”

Josephine reached out, slowly taking your hands in hers.  “He…  He makes you happy?  He takes care of you and you’re safe?” She asked, voice trembling as a few tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Yeah.  He takes real good care of me,” you insisted with a weak laugh.  “And I’ve never been so happy before, honey.  I promise.”

“Okay…,” she said, taking a deep breath.  “I’m still giving him the shovel talk.”

Bucky looked up as Josephine entered the living room, looking much calmer.  He wasn’t sure what you’d said, but it had seemed to placate her for the time being.

“Can we talk outside?” She asked him, keeping her chin high.

God, she looked so much like you.

He nodded stiffly, getting to his feet and leaving his mug behind as he followed her to the front door and out onto the porch.  The former super soldier watched as she paced back and forth, biting her thumb.  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said finally, breaking the silence.

Josie stopped in her tracks, listening quietly.

“Your mama loves you something fierce.”  Nervously rubbing his hands on his pajama pants, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so nervous meeting a girl’s family.

Though, he supposed it was a bit different when it was meeting your girlfriend’s daughter.

“And I love her.”

Your daughter, your mini me, stared him directly in the eyes.  “I’m sure she’s told you about my father.  What he did.”

“She did.”

“So you know that if you put one fucking foot out of line, I’ll filet you?”

“I do.”

She eyed him for a long moment.  “What are you in this for?  What’s the long term?” She asked.  “I’ve heard of elders just… settling for someone because they don’t wanna be alone in their twilight years.  Is that what this is?”

Bucky tried really hard not to feel a little bit offended.  He wasn’t that old.  “I’ve been alive since 1917,” he said slowly.  “I have no doubt you know who I am.  But I’ve been alive a hundred and something years, and I’ve never met someone who makes me feel the way your mom does.”  His heart clenched inside his chest as he thought of you, seeing your shy smile in the mornings, how you clung to him when you went out in public, the sound of your voice as you read an excerpt of your writing to him, so nervous about what he would think.  “And I…  I can say that everything I’ve been through…  Everything I’ve ever been through was worth it, because I got to meet her.  And I get to be hers for the years I have left.”

She looked absolutely speechless.  “Good,” she said, coughing to clear her throat.  “Good.  I just…  I can’t see her get hurt again.  Not after everything.”

“Trust me, I don’t plan to,” he said, his mouth dry.  “I…  I actually have something to ask you about…  Been waiting to meet you to talk to you about it…”

Inside, you paced the kitchen and living room, going back and forth and back and forth, sometimes moving to the window to try to hear what they were saying.  But they were keeping it all very hushed.

“It’s gonna be fine, mama,” Danny said, standing up and moving to wrap her arms around you.  “Josie’ll see how much you two love each other, and it’ll be fine.  She’s just gotta have her protective moment.  You know how she is.”

Sniffling, you hugged her tightly.  “I shouldn’t have kept it from her for so long…  I was just so nervous…  They both…  They both mean the world to me.”  You paused, snorting.  “I knew you’d approve of him.  I wasn’t so worried about you.”

“Oh, please, the way that man looked at you?” She said, laughing as she kissed your forehead.  “Mama, there’s no way in hell that man would ever hurt you.  He looks at you like you’re his entire universe.”

Heart warm, you glanced towards the front door, wishing they’d just come inside already.  “I’ve never felt something like this…  But fuck, if the whole shit show that’s my life wasn’t worth it for him…  I wouldn’t change a thing, as long as it means I get to end up with him.”

You broke out of her grasp as the front door opened and they came back inside, looking relaxed and even… happy?  “Well?  You aren’t gonna kill him?” You asked Josie as you moved to James, heart racing.

“Nah…,” she said, giving him what seemed like a secretive smile.  “As far as dads go…  He’d be pretty nice to have.”

“What?” You said, brows furrowing as you looked between the two of them.

Bucky chuckled, winking at Josephine as he led you to the stove where breakfast was still waiting, making you waddle as his arms wrapped around you from behind.  “Don’t worry your pretty head about it, baby doll.  It’s all good.”

You still couldn’t help but feel like the two were planning something as he made your plate for you, cutting up your pancakes and filling up your coffee.  “Why do I feel like you two are gonna end up ganging up on me?”

“Oh, come on, mama,” Josephine said with a smirk on her face.  Her and Danny had made their own plates and joined you and Bucky in the living room.  “How could you ever accuse us of such a thing?”

“Yeah,” James said as he fed you a bite of pancake.  “How could you ever accuse us of such a thing?” He asked, before leaning in and stealing a kiss.  “I love you.”

You’d never felt more relaxed, surrounded by the people you loved the most in the world.  What you’d said to Josephine had been true.

“I love you more,” you said, leaning back in for another kiss.

You’d never been so happy.

[marky4l]

Step by Step / Mark Lee

step by step / mkl

pairing: Mark Lee x Reader

From an innocent childhood friendship to a juvenile high school rivalry to a forced pairing for a Psychology paper, it seems you and Mark just can’t avoid each other. But something’s a little different now.

genre: fluff, angst (a little bit), suggestive themes, childhood friends (barely mentioned!) to enemies to lovers, college!au

notes: lia yeonjun chan hyuck jeno all make tiny appearances 

word count: 17.2k 

hi!!! this is my first work nd I’m really excited to put this out I’d looove if you could give it a read :^) hound me on my inbox if u wanna i take anything

“Remember when we were best friends in fifth grade?”

His voice is a little quiet, and there’s a very obvious undertone of boredom, but you hum softly anyway, nodding, as if to question why you would ever forget. Fifth grade was a suburban brew of Star Wars marathons, figuring out the world, and Harry Potter merchandise littering your house. Fifth grade was lemonade and oatmeal, knitted sweaters, and sneaking into your mom’s vanity to swipe her makeup. And fifth grade was Mark—bright eyed, geeky Mark, with his Death Star replica and weird electronica music. 

Mark, who had an affinity with Troy from High School Musical and Spiderman, and wanted to be just like them. Mark, who would show up grinning to your front door everyday, pie dish in his nimble grip. He was the one who had opened a lemonade stand at the corner of your block so he could buy you the Gryffindor scarf you’d been nagging your mom about the entire holiday season. He was the one who learned the chords to your favorite Jonas Brothers song and sang it to you each time you requested it.

“Yes, I do,” you answer instead, clearing your throat. 

You attempt to push down all the memories that just ran through your head and adjust the grip you have on your pen. “Well,” Mark continues, “that was ages ago. Beats me why it ever happened.” 

The timidity is replaced with a tidal wave of teasing, and the annoyance that had disappeared is beginning to crawl all over you. Again. You roll your eyes and pull up the slides your professor had assigned. “Beats me why we even ended up in the same university, let alone the same class,” you jab, “if you thought I forgot about how you outright failed our Spanish classes in high school, I didn’t.”

Your friendship with Mark had reached its unfortunate demise to the hands of middle school, where you had branched out with your interests and began to stick to societal (as societal as school can get) norms. He had joined the geeky, cool kids; you hadn’t joined a specific social circle, but you had a best friend, Lia, and you were generally good with everybody. 

Somehow, despite you both being in good graces with everyone, you had a deep-seated dislike for one another that stemmed from an intense academic rivalry. Specifically, the competition to become school council president. That had ended now, seeing as though you were both in college, but the abrasiveness of your banter had never worn off.

“Oh, because you were so good at Physics?” he says, voice even. His brow is raised. “We all have our strong suits, you know. You’re one to talk.” You decide to pay him no mind, instead jotting down the criteria for your final project in Psychology 1—something about the stages of grief. You’re supposed to relate it to a different human process and show how they fit with one another. 

It’s absolute fucking bullshit, and the fact that Mark Lee became your partner among a hundred students is beyond you. Absolutely beyond you. 

He nears your screen, reading the content of your project, eyes squinted—you’d noticed his lack of decent eyesight years ago, but it seemingly hadn’t improved. “Relate the stages of grief…hold up, what? That’s difficult as hell. What are we supposed to do, lose a loved one?” You roll your eyes, turning to him. “No, Mark. The point is to find another process that happens gradually and relate it to this—denial, bargaining, anger. Get it?”

He stares back at you. “No.”

You groan audibly, turning back to your notebook. “This is impossible. Can we just switch partners so I won’t have to deal with you?” He smirks, kicking his feet up on the library table. Absently, you note how nice his sneakers look. Reclining onto the seat, he shuts his eyes as if to contemplate. 

“I heard through the birdvine our professor’s the type to pair up people she thinks would look good together for shits and giggles. Girls and boys, boys and boys, you name it. Johnny”—he’s referring to a guy who’s a year above yours, studying Biology—“tells me over five couples have been born out of this class. Isn’t that nice?” You scoff, scrolling mindlessly through the slides to keep yourself distracted. 

“It really is. A shame we won’t be adding to that list, because I can’t fucking stand you.” He laughs loudly, the vibration of it remaining in the deadly silent air. “I can stand fucking you, though,” he says, and then, before you can even blush, “All jokes. Don’t get your hopes up, ‘kay?” He’s quick to get up, just as flustered as you are at the uncharacteristic phrase that just left his mouth. He collects his jacket and jogs out of the library with a small, half-assed bye under his breath.

—

Lia’s eyes bore into yours. “He actually said that? I’m telling you, he’s some weird kinky guy under that whole cool geek persona. High school Mark would never have. Oh my god. He’s a furry—he’s a furry!” She flops back onto your bed, laughing. You poke at her waist in protest. 

“It’s because he’s surrounded by too many weird classy fuckboys. You know, those that think that they’re all that because they haven’t roofied a girl.” You’re half-joking, and you’re really only referring to maybe two guys you’ve happened to see Mark with. As if to read your mind, Lia continues. “Hey, I heard some of them are okay. They’re not, like…those ‘nice guys’, if you get me.”

“I do,” you quip. “But I guess I’m just trying to find a way to justify the whole 360 in Mark. I mean, in high school, he was still nerdy—well, you know. Shy. But jump to sophomore year of uni and he’s suddenly some…” You rack your head for a proper term. “Sex god?” your friend asks, holding in a laugh. “Oh, eat shit,” you fire back, “really, eat shit. And while you’re at it, feed me some, too, because I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to turn in at the end of the term. Like, Jes—”

There’s a faint knock at the door, and then. “Lia? It’s—uh, it’s me, Daniel? Er, Daniel Choi.” Your wide eyes can’t possibly match Lia’s as she tugs on a decent-looking pullover and puts it on. As she swings the door open, you manage to sufficiently hide yourself under your duvet and attempt to hear their conversation. 

“You know, it’s okay if you leave out the whole…saying your full name at the door part. Trust me…I know you,” she jokes, and you hear him laugh before you detect the crinkling of a plastic bag. “Chinese. Uh, I bought some extra for your best friend, because I’m not gonna pretend I don’t see the sentient blob on the bed.”

You pull the blanket off and smile sheepishly. “Hey, Daniel,” you say, “thanks for the food. I owe you an empty room next time, I swear by it. It’ll be easy, since I’m gonna be”—you heave yourself off the bed and onto the floor, where they’re both sitting—“holed up at the library for the next few weeks.” 

Lia nods, chewing her chow mein, and then when she’s done, she explains to Daniel your whole huge Psychology end-of-term paper about stages and grief and whatever, oh also she’s partnered with Mark Lee, this guy that we both know from high school, and she dislikes his guts, oh you know him? 

“Wait. You know him?” You repeat, and Daniel nods, ruffling his black mullet. “His room’s, like, three away from mine. He’s studying Theoretical Physics, right? Yeah, he’s always in his room doing school shit, but every weekend he’s out with the upperclassmen. He’s probably out now, ‘cause it’s Friday. How he even charmed them, though, is a mystery.”

Mid-dumpling, you roll your eyes. “Y’know, the hardest part is being partnered with him. But also, even finding what kind of gradual process to relate denial and anger too is weirdly hard. It feels like I could find something, but I haven’t gotten it…quite…” you trail off, your eyes landing on Lia and Daniel across you—they’re smiling softly at each other, and you distinguish their fingers interlocking quietly, as if you wouldn’t notice. 

“…yet. Except maybe I have. How would you want to participate in my end-of-term paper?” Their gazes turn to yours, and you nod frantically. “Oh my god, I’m a genius! Seriously! Falling in love! Yes! It’s denial—anger—whatever, whatever! It makes perfect sense. The end is acceptance, too! Oh god, Li, it’s perfect. I will owe you for life if you help me out.”

“Wait, what? You dove straight into it, what—recap, please,” Lia asks, and you compose yourself before explaining giddily. 

“Falling in love. It happens gradually, and we can compare it to the stages of grief. Seeing as you and Daniel are headed right there, we can use you as some test subjects. It’s not required to have respondents or subjects, really, it’s just an extensive paper, but it might help get the grade up. This is gonna be great, and if you ever wanna back out, you can, because it’s not mandatory.” Lia and Daniel meet eyes briefly, and then slowly, nod. “Okay, that’s pretty smart,” Daniel says, “I’m up for it. Are you?” Lia nods, slowly and hesitantly, and you smile widely. “You two just saved my Psych grade. I’ll be at Giselle’s tonight. Just…not on my bed.” You grab your keys and phone and bound out of your room, straight into the elevator at the end of the hall.

The elevator door nearly closes when a Converse-clad foot steps in, and your eyes rake up the figure, eventually landing on his face. 

“Jesus fuck,” you mumble, “you must be kidding me.” 

Mark enters the elevator with a small, teasing smile, hands tucked into his jacket’s pockets. “Hey, dude, what’s up? Was on your floor on my stop down to get some money Lucas owed me,” he says, “this is actually a godsend, because my genius brain found us a project idea. Relate grief to something else gradual? Easy as pie. Falling in lo—” 

You cut him off before he can finish, “Falling in love, right. I thought of it first, earlier,” you say profusely, absently noting the pettiness in your tone. He whistles. “No need to get all possessive over an idea the previous classes have used before, man.” You continue, ignoring him. “Whatever. Lucky for our grades, I went the extra mile to get us some test subjects. Do you know the two Chois? Lia and Daniel?” 

He nods once, “Yeah, their PDA on Instagram is fucking sickening, but I see your technique, and I like that—we get some extra data from their god awful PDA.” You nod once, and he continues. “It’s nearing 11 on a Friday night. Whose party are you headed to?”

“You’re welcome for the test subjects,” you gripe. “Anyway, I was so giddy about coming up with it, I just left them to…well, fornicate. As a compromise for being lab rats. I texted my…” you realize you’re starting to share too much to a guy you typically dislike talking to, and then there’s a silence in the air that’s painfully awkward. 

“You texted your…?” Mark asks. “My friend, but she’ll be home at 1AM, so I’m out to kill time. No parties, just…I dunno.” He nods again, and then the elevator lets out a blissful ding. You step out simultaneously, and then he faces you. “Look, it’s freezing out, you’re in shorts and a puffer coat, and it’s three hours to 1AM, so I doubt you’ll get far.” You scoff at his words despite feeling your legs shake from the breeze outside. “I’ll be fine, dumbass.”

“Just concerned,” he says, in a tone that sounds more blank than annoyed, but he turns and heads toward the door anyway. He swivels back around briefly. “It’s in Johnny’s apartment. Just a couple people, if you get bored freezing.” He jogs outside then, and you inwardly appreciate the small gesture, but again, annoyance returns just as quickly. You linger a bit before heading out yourself, walking briskly to a local Japanese restaurant. You consider this an opportunity to have some me time, some rest after a shitty week in university. Lasting ’til 1AM alone and entertained would not at all be a problem. 

You last one ramen bowl and head to Johnny’s apartment.

—

When Johnny Suh answers the door, he’s clad in a makeshift shower curtain gown of sorts, and is flushed and very buzzed all over. He hikes up the top to cover his chest and laughs profusely. “Did Mark invite you?” Behind him is a sizeable group of just about twenty people, which looks like forty in a cramped communal space. You’d been here before—Johnny likes to invite just about anyone to get stoned and listen to Kid Cudi on Fridays, and you had pushed Lia to accompany you before. 

You distantly spot the kitchenette, the small living room, and then the two bedroom doors opposing each other. “The rule was to show up wearing something not marketed as clothing, but Mark didn’t follow the rules, so. Anyway, you’re off scot-free, too…” he pauses, “…if you take off the puffer coat. We’ve got heating, anyway. Free booze and weed, too.” You figure being in a flimsy tank top isn’t so bad—you’re sure half the people here are already getting laid or trying to, and nobody would really pay attention to you.

You shrug off the coat as Johnny steps aside to let you in, hugging it close to your body and navigating your way to the kitchen. The granite counters are filled with various bottles of booze, and you also note the cigarettes and blunts lining the island. You peruse the brands before settling on a sealed can of decidedly not-so-cheap-looking beer, and crack it open to take a swig. It’s warm and fucking disgusting, but there’s not much glitz in an “anything but clothing” off-campus college party anyway. 

There are several people scattered among the living area, passing around a blunt—another group is playing suck and blow. You make your way over to the cheap couch on the far end of the room, taking a seat on the arm and stretching out your hand to claim the blunt. It’s Jae who passes it to you—Jaehyun Jung, an upperclassman whose infamy (for wearing nothing but toilet paper and running through campus) greatly surpasses him. “Who are you?” he asks, and you holler your name back over the Kanye West song playing in the background. “Mark invited me,” you tack onto the end as compensation.

He nods in understanding, watching you take a drag and pass it back to him. He only hands it back, saying, “It’s nearly done, just finish it,” and getting up to probably get some booze or another blunt. 

You scan the area for a better place to cherish your weed, because you’re definitely not going to do it on the arm of a couch housing three couples making out to the high heavens. You spot an open window and a fire escape just beside the kitchen and walk over, ducking into the cool night air. It’s not quiet, it never is, and you treasure the peace that comes with the noise, closing your eyes and trying to milk the last few drags. All that is flushed down the drain when somebody kicks you out of your reverie and your last two drags are falling down, through the grills of the fire escape. 

“What the fuck?” You look up to meet, of course, Mark’s gaze, teasing and mischievous. 

“That wasn’t fucking funny, asshat. Get away from me.” You get up instantly, ducking back into the house and searching for your coat. It’s (very unfortunately) buried under a couple who have escalated from making out to borderline public indecency.

“Fuck it,” you mumble, swinging the door open and mentally preparing yourself for the cold once you get to the sidewalk, floors down. Mark follows suit, a laugh gracing the atmosphere around the two of you. “You know, I forgot how fun it is to make you pissed off. I did it all the time in eighth grade when I told our teacher you knew the solution to the Physics problems.” You’re fucking pissed. However petty, you’re fucking annoyed that you couldn’t finish the blunt, and you pay no attention to him. 

He badgers on anyway. “Hey—it was a mistake, I wanted to say hi to you.” You scoff, finally turning—“Why? Because we’re friends? We’re not. We’re Psych partners, we came from the same high school, we share a couple mutual friends. But you and I are not friends, not objectively, anyway. Please, Mark. I only just re-acquainted myself with you today, but, like, you’re already so annoying!” You’re at the elevator now, and when the doors slide open, you step inside and let them close at once. You barely catch the unreadable look on his face in your annoyance, and you lean against the wall, shutting your eyes and breathing heavily. 

How you’d even get to Giselle’s, or how you would wait out the remaining half-hour before she got home, was just up to whichever higher power happened to be witnessing you that night.

—

The door of your professor’s office closes with a saddening click. You stare back at her name, embossed on the wood in bold, in defeat, accepting your fate with a heavy heart. Just fifteen minutes prior, you had entered with a whole spiel prepared on how you just had to swap with somebody from your class so you wouldn’t have to work with Mark. This speech had occurred twice now—with your TA, and then once with your professor. This was your second chance, your redemption: so you prepared notes, you prepared convincing words—you had a point. 

But your professor simply shooed you away, muttering how she didn’t have time for you because she was going to be receiving hundreds of papers in a few weeks’ time from a different class and she, quite honestly, couldn’t be bothered. You bite your lip, thinking back to the previous Friday—it was nearing two weeks since your small outburst at Mark. Since then, you’d expected to build a silent rapport of just working, observing Lia and Daniel, and then parting. And that was almost it. You would show up to your so-called “lab rat sessions”, cup of warm caramel latte in hand, and work. 

Except Mark would constantly make noise, jeer, swipe your pen, and do other things that got on your nerves.

“You’re going to have to stop trying sometime,” Lia says, backhugging you. She’d been waiting outside. You let your head loll back onto her shoulder and whine. “Do you know when you’re so frustrated you want to cry? Yeah? That’s exactly how it is, Li. I can’t keep up with this for another two, three months. It’s like he’s not even, like, fuck, like he’s not even trying, y’know? We’re building the foundation of a pages-long paper. This isn’t some finals essay he can bullshit in three hours.” 

You groan as Lia pulls away from you, whirling you around to face her. “It’ll be fine, I swear to you. I’ll help out, anytime you need it. I promise. If I start hating Daniel, I’ll even pretend like I’m in love with him. Head over heels.” You let yourself laugh and pull out your phone as you two begin to walk towards your dorm.

She tsks. “We’re gonna have a thing tonight, right? Like, a lab rat session?”

You nod, squinting over your calendar app. “Yeah, at around 5:30 to 6. It’ll be quick, but Mark and I are gonna have to stay behind to divide the work for the general paper and then start. Hopefully we can get some outlining done by tonight…so don’t wait up,” you sigh. She smiles apologetically, pinching your waist affectionately. 

“Daniel and I will totally help you. He’s a Mark anti now. I told him about the party outburst thing.” You had sent her a slew of texts that night, and like every other story you had told (save for the most private ones), Daniel had caught wind of it. You’re half sure he was capable of blackmailing you at that point. “Good,” you shoot back, “I’m going to need all the anti-Mark force I can get.”

“Why?” You both turn to see Mark standing idly behind you. There’s a beat, and then: “You look like an inane stalker,” you retort, turning to continue walking. Lia follows suit—with the two of you, the vibe of the atmosphere would always come easy. If one was mad, the other would act mad, too. 

“Hey,” Mark repeats, falling into step beside you, “why do you need an anti-Mark force? Tell me.” At this point, your nerves are on fire and your blood is boiling, and you’re beginning to envision beating him up on the quad. “Mark, it’s been great, but we’re going to our dorm, and in case you don’t want to catch a restraining order, I suggest you get off at your floor instead of following us like a creep,” you say sweetly, quickening your steps until he’s far behind you, smiling. Fucking asshole. 

“I’ll see ya this evening, then,” he teases, and you grumble under your breath.

—

It’s 5:45 when Lia and Daniel leave the library—fifteen minutes early. You and Mark leave ten minutes later, hours before you were supposed to complete your task. You’re fuming, and for once, Mark has the decency to read the room and feel remorse. 

The evening had started off well enough, though—Lia and Daniel had showed up, did their thing, described what was happening, and you and Mark had noted it down. And then, well. Mark spilled water all over your planner, which, in hindsight, was definitely unintentional, but in the spur of the moment, you could do nothing but your natural—everybody’s natural—response to getting something precious ruined. You began to cry. “What the fuck,” you sniffled, “is wrong with you?!” You had shaken the majority of water off your planner, but any and all dates had been smudged and bled, and you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him. “I know I called you annoying, but this is too far,” you had said, watching his face go from teasing to genuinely sorry. “Dude, it was accidenta—” 

“I don’t give a fuck—!” You quickly cut yourself off and wipe your tears when you see a young library assistant heading towards your table. Everybody composes themselves—Lia and Daniel straighten out the things on the surface and Mark sits up straight. “Hey,” he says. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but two students already came in with a noise complaint. We’re gonna have to ask you to,” he makes a gesture, “leave for now and come back tomorrow. Also, the puddle on the table…yeah. I’m really sorry.” He leaves, as if to make sure you have no other choice but to just go, and you slump back onto your chair in exhaustion. 

“You two can go ahead,” you hear Mark say, “I’m really sorry about this. We’ll clean up and apologize.” Faintly, you hear them get up, and you feel Lia’s hand squeeze yours as she promises a text and food later. You let your eyes remain shut, drinking in the quiet, trying to calm your inner turmoil.

Ten minutes later, when you’re out in the cold November air, Mark finally speaks. You had cleaned up and collected your things in silence. “I’m really sorry,” he says, “it was an accident, for real. I know I tease a lot, but, uh, I’m being serious. I would never have done that on purpose. I see you write shit on that thing a lot, so…I know how much you like it. Treasure it…? I don’t—whatever it is, I’m really sorry. Like, really. T’was an accident. If you need me to pay for it…” You shake your head softly, hugging your damp planner closer to your sweater-clad chest. “It’s okay. Thanks, anyway. For helping. I’ll email you what you have to do. Bye,” you turn and begin walking in the direction of your dorm. The sun is beginning to set, golden orange hues casting a vast array of colors onto the landscape of the city. You sigh softly, heart heavy with annoyance and exhaustion, and speed up before you start having a mini-breakdown.

—

Stage 1: Denial|

Your cursor blinks back at you as you finish typing in your outline for the introduction. It’s early into November, but already, you’ve had to shut your window to shielf yourself from the biting breeze outside. Across you, Lia applies mascara and talks to you. “What are you up to?” she asks, face contorted. 

“This godforsaken paper,” you mumble back, “just finished the introduction outline. I’m trying to give a loose definition for each gradual ‘stage.’” Shoving your Macbook off your lap, you get up to stretch. “Which I’ll probably find on Google Scholar, honestly. If you had to give me a definition—what’s denial?” 

She hums contemplatively, wand on lash, and then pipes up. “I think it’s just a stage where you can’t face the fact that you’re interested in that person. Like, why them? With Daniel, he wasn’t really my type. So the whole denial was denying I liked him, because…well, yeah. But I think it differs. Some people deny it because they’re shy, or ashamed, or weirded out that they even like them.”

You’ve had your fair share of crushes before, and sure enough, you had denied them all. But that was high school—college, though, had only brought short-lived flings and one night stands; you were an overachiever, much too committed to your own prosperity to pay mind to anybody else for too long. (Except Lia.) So you hadn’t really experienced the whole boyfriend-in-university thing—not that you particularly wanted to, but you were just human; you were curious. Lia had gotten it, and it looked wonderful. 

Speaking of—“So, a week without meeting Mark in person, huh? How is that going for you?” You scoff lightly, shaking your head as you pull your hair into a bun. “It’s going just fine. Dandy, actually. We work from our dorms and you and Daniel just update us. It’s a fine arrangement that I regret was not formulated sooner.” Lia nods in understanding, and you watch her pull on a top, mutter I’m out and head outside. For the fifth time this week, you’re alone in the dorm, with nothing but your Alexa playing SZA and your laptop. You pull it onto your lap again, staring at the boldface letters you had typed minutes prior: denial. You had no firsthand experience of being mature and going through denial; not in that way, anyway. You found it stupid that people even denied when it would be less painful to just admit interest.

You blow a raspberry as you research studies related to the term, bored out of your mind.

—

Two days later, you meet Mark again. 

You’d also had the pleasure of, for a minute or two, meeting a friend of his, Donghyuck Lee from Economics. He’s loud and amusing and, from your viewpoint, undeserving of somebody as boring as Mark. (That’s from a minute-long intercation.) 

At Lia’s insistence (and likely Daniel’s, too), you two met up to properly work and collaborate. In fear of being kicked out again, the four of you had chosen to meet somewhere else—a cafe off-campus affectionately named something along the lines of Saltwater Coffee. Naturally, after Donghyuck leaves, you find yourself sitting idly (awkwardly) beside Mark. “They won’t be long,” he says suddenly, “er, Daniel just texted me. They’re near.” You nod, pursing your lips, eyes trained onto your laptop. “We’re almost done formulating the denial stage and we can start outlining anger and bargaining. This’ll take about a week more—maybe mid to late November? Uh, I know it seems justifiable to slack off with the holidays,” you say, “but I really want us to finish this early. The due date’s in mid-February, so we can pass this on the 14th.” You turn to face him. “Get it? ‘Cause it’s Valentine’s Day.”

He nods. “Okay. No slacking. I get it. The Valentine’s is smart, too.” You nod back in silent understanding, turning back to type frantically into your keyboard. 

You hear the door jingle and Lia’s small “hey, guys”, so you look up and offer a smile. “I’m gonna go order everyone some coffee,” Mark says beside you, getting up and shuffling over to the counter. Daniel joins him, and Lia takes a seat across you, her smile knowing and apologetic. “Everything okay?” You blow a raspberry, but smile, anyway. “It’s not so bad. It could be better, but no more banter, just very annoyed auras…? You get it. It’s just been tough trying to divert my focus to this and ignore all the annoyance I feel.”

“Totally, I get that,” she says, “but all the same, I’m glad he’s matured a little bit and lessened all the ribbing.” You smile at that, agreeing, and then the conversation spirals into one about both of your days—“Professor Callahan totally pops a stiffy over Professor Michaelson”, “Daniel tells me Joshua cheated. Yes, on Jess!”, “Mia dropped out the other day and nobody knows why, hope she’s okay”—before Daniel and Mark return, coffee cups in hand. Mark places one next to you, and profusely, you look up at him, who’s just about to sit. 

“Thanks, but I don’t drink brewed coff—”

“It’s a caramel latte, the only thing you drink. Heard you say that to Lia once.” He takes a seat and pulls his laptop open. 

You stare at him, taking the cup and bringing it to your lips. Sure enough, it’s caramel—thick, and foamy, and sweet. You look up at him again, but he’s busy on Google Scholar, perusing through journals and studies. You shake your head before turning to Lia, who’s already looking at you, expression mirroring yours. 

Sweet, she mouths, but you purse your lips and choose not to acknowledge it. “Thanks,” you say quietly, and he hums to say you’re welcome. 

Your eyes flicker to him. He’s wearing a knitted sweater, but he’s pulled it up to his elbows. He’s typing quickly, and he can use all his fingers, too (you fail miserably at that), and his brows are furrowed as if he’s stressed, or in a hurry. You’ve never really noticed this much of Mark before. It’s probably, you think absently, because you’re confused. Puzzled at the gesture that you didn’t expect—at all.

After an hour, he angles his laptop to yours. “Nailed the intro. High five?” You open the Google doc on your own browser, and sure enough, the word count has increased monumentally. You can’t deny his knack for writing. “There are a few discrepancies in grammar,” you say instead. “But…okay. This is good.” You ignore his hand, in mid-air, and continue researching. 

Lia holds in a giggle, but turns back to Daniel, who, after fifteen minutes, turns to you and Mark. “Lia and I are heading out, guys,” he says, and Lia quickly tacks on. “Hey, if you need me to stay, I can,” she says quickly, but you smile and shake your head. 

“This might take a while. Go ahead. See ya at the dorm, Li. Bye, Daniel.” Mark bids his farewells, too, and they leave you alone in the cafe. It’s nearing a three hour crunch when he abruptly gets up to stretch, a low grunt leaving his lips. “I’m exhausted,” he sighs, “but at least we’re nearly done with this whole denial thing.”

“We’re actually only just starting,” you state, “this is going to go through a lot of editing and proofreading.” 

He chuckles and walks back to the counter to order something, and you shut your laptop to rest your eyes. Your glasses rest uncomfortably on the bridge of your nose as you breathe deeply. You lose track of time, and you open your eyes ten minutes later, fumbling to get up properly. There’s a panini beside your laptop, wrapped neatly in a tissue and laid on a plate. Mark’s is empty, save for crumbs, and he says nothing. 

“Get up,” he remarks teasingly after a while, and you groan in exhaustion. “I am, I’m up,” you mutter, straightening your back and flexing your neck. Inwardly, you wonder if you should thank him for the panini that is obviously yours that you obviously did not buy for yourself. 

Then Mark’s hand stretches out to take the panini, and he takes a bite. “Sorry,” he says, “I had to put my second sandwich in your space. This table’s a little small.” You hum back in acknowledgement, nodding once. “It’s, uh…all good,” you respond, voice small as you type into your laptop. Internally, your body fills slowly with humiliation and confusion, but you stay quiet, and that’s how the rest of the night goes: a silent, steady beat of keyboard clicking and the occasional question. 

No banter, no nothing—it’s a godsend, yes, it is, but you can’t help but miss the abrasive, playful conversations the two of you had built up over the previous several weeks. But really—had you truly assumed he had bought you a panini? As if a coffee wasn’t enough? You felt at odds with yourself for even expecting such a gesture from the guy whose main habit was to annoy you to the ends of the Earth.

“It’s late,” he says, as if he’s reading your mind and knowing you’re absolutely mortified inside. “Let’s head home.” You nod, deeming the night’s work satisfactory—maybe even beyond, considering the amount of effort you both put into the output. You shove your laptop and charger into your bag and pocket your phone, lingering awkwardly and waiting for Mark to finish packing up. He’s particular with it—he has little sections in his backpack for the wires and chargers, and even his AirPods, and his laptop. 

“Very organized,” you find yourself commenting offhandedly, your tone taking on a teasing edge. He glares playfully back at you. 

“Sorry I don’t want my wires to break,” he shoots back, eyeing your flimsy tote bag, “unlike some people.” You roll your eyes and, against your strongest wills, a smile appears on your lips, albeit a small one. His eyes linger on your smile for a little bit before he clears his throat and zips up his knapsack. “Let’s, er, go. Thank Jesus we’re in the same building.” When you exit, the air bites at you despite the jacket covering your body, and you quicken your pace. “It’s cold as hell.”

“Ironic,” Mark says. You hide a smile.

—

That’s what November brings you—the next week and a half are composed of just slowly learning to get used to working with Mark again and going home late into the night, crunching to the max. 

Your paper begins to take on more and more structure, and two out of the six days you’ve met, Mark has set down a caramel latte for you to arrive to. The acoustic music slowly phases into holiday guitar, and the coat rack at the entrance is weighed down more and more as the days pass, preparing to welcome December. 

You and Mark work silently, save for the rare banter and eyeroll, and very gradually, the annoyance that had bubbled up within seconds before had sank down. You’re not friends, per se—it’s just that the frustration and exasperation had lessened considerably. 

You were civil. That’s it. You won’t try to deny that you’ve been thinking about this a little too much—about what your “friendship” had become with Mark. You hadn’t snapped at him in days, and he hadn’t tugged at your ballpen in even longer. It wasn’t that you had cowered him into silence by crying over your planner—it may have instigated it, but his behavior was…different. 

More calm, more sure. Less childish. He would still tease you, but not as much. It’s nearing mid-November now, and you’ve successfully done much of your introduction and denial, needing less and less of Lia and Daniel’s presence. (Which you’re sure they’re grateful for.) But being left alone with Mark isn’t as bad as you once thought—

“Hello. Earth to you,” you distantly hear, and you whip your head in the direction of the voice as you pace back to your dorm building. Mark stares blankly back at you. “What,” you mumble back. He quirks a brow before continuing. “I was saying, I think I need to take a rain check tomorrow. The, uh”—he clears his throat—“um, yeah.”

You eye him. “Okay…?”

He nods profusely, “Yeah, all good.” The walk continues in silence, the sun finally setting down behind the Manhattan skyline beyond you and the breeze taking on a chillier temperature. You sigh softly, fatigue overtaking you as you stare at the building nearing you. “If you take a rain check, just make sure you write it within the day or after,” you say, half-sternly and half-tiredly. He mumbles a “got it” and you both jog up the steps to the lobby, where you run into, by some weird twist of the day, a small group of anti-abortion protesters.

“Jesus Christ,” Mark mutters under his breath. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” You rub the bridge of your nose in your fingers, choosing to tune them out and instead maneuver your way through the door. Before you can even take a step, though, they’re all up in your face with pamphlets and brochures and a guitar. “Excuse me,” you grunt, trying to gently push them aside, but they only come on stronger. “A child is a child,” they say. “If you know anybody who’s—”

“Is this your new initiative? Preying on college students on school grounds, unaccounted for?” Mark asks from behind you. You turn to find he’s filming and stifle a laugh. “I’m surprised nobody’s kicked you out. Won’t be long, now,” he adds with a smile. 

You tune out nearly everything else—it’s really just them telling Mark to stop recording and him retorting with equally snarky phrases. It’s not until maybe after a solid two minutes of back and forth that one of them, a weird middle-aged woman, pulls out a burgundy gummy bear from a bag and pushes it into Mark’s camera. He takes it from her and examines it, puzzled. “That,” she says matter-of-factly, “is the approximate size of a fetus. It’s big. It’s sentient, alive. What, I beg of you, what would you do?”

Mark squints at it. Then he pops it into his mouth, takes your hand, and runs straight to the elevator across the floor. 

“There’s a bunch of anti-abortion people outside, it’s not cool!” He hollers to the receptionist before the doors close with a damning click. 

There’s a beat, and then.

Both of you are doubling over in laughter. “Why the hell would y—why would you do that?! You’re insane!” The response is: “Because they’re not cool! They’re fuckin’ annoying! So I ate their baby!” There are tears in your eyes, your laughter so hard it’s nearing silent—Mark’s, though, is loud and annoying sounding, though you seem to not mind so much. The laughter subsides when the ding of your floor sounds and you straighten yourself up. Getting into a different position reminds you of the very there, very obvious brushing of your hand against Mark’s, which he’d taken just moments earlier, post-baby eating.

You freeze and jerk your hand away. “I’ll, um, go now,” you say, “I’ll see you tomorr—no, the day after.” Against your wills, you meet his eyes, and you’re surprised to find that he’s already looking at you, an unreadable expression on his face. “Okay,” he says, his eyes not leaving yours. Your heart beats faster at a very small increment, but you head out and semi-run to your room, swinging it open and leaning against it. 

You look up to find Lia and Daniel engaged in a heated Monopoly match. You make no noise, mind (and heart, but you can’t tell why) racing fast. You watch them play for a second before they both look up slowly.

“You’re smiling like a goddamn idiot,” Daniel says. Your face falls immediately. “I’m, um, no I’m not,” you say casually, pacing over to your bed and flopping onto it. Lia laughs loudly. 

“That sounded so freaked. Like we’re your mom and you just brought weed home kind of freaked.” Pause. 

“Are you hiding something from me?” She rises from her spot to look at you, head in pillow and all, and you let out a muffled “no!”, probably too defensive for your own good. 

It’s Daniel’s turn to snort. You look up and glare at him, “You’re getting too comfortable for your own good. You need to humble yourself, Daniel. What’s it again? Oh yeah, Yeonjun, right?” He rolls his eyes at the use of his Korean name and turns back to the Monopoly board.

Lia flops atop you, eliciting a grunt from your lips. “Are you okay? Did somebody flirt with you? Did Mark finally fuck off and leave you alone properly?” 

At the mention of Mark, your heart races—you will it to stop, and audibly groan in the process. “What is it, you bitch?” Lia asks, tugging on a section of your hair. “It’s nothing, Li! Nothing, I promise.” She glares at you before walking to Daniel and covering his ears. Instantly, he begins to let out a chorus of Lalala, and deeming the environment safe enough, you let it slip.

“Mark and I held hands. But it—”

“You what?!”

“It really, really doesn’t mean anyth—”

“How can that not mean anything? It’s hand holdi—”

“If you would listen to the backstory you’d know!” She pauses, and then uncovers Daniel’s ears and knees him. 

“Okay, get out. Monopoly postponed, Jun,” she says, pushing him out insistently. He barely collects his phone and keys before he’s out, but you swoon silently when you catch him pressing a short goodbye kiss to her forehead before actually leaving. She turns immediately, fire and curiosity awfully evident in her face. 

She nears you. “Explain.” 

And that’s what sparks the story of the weird protesters, Mark’s power move, and the unintentional hand hold that lasted a few moments too long. She nods the entire time, laughing, and then her face straightens out again. You can almost hear the gears in her head turning as she analyzes the situation, and then she nods once. 

“Okay. Perfectly justifiable to freak out.” Another pause. “But why were you smiling?” You stare blankly back at her, head working impossibly quick to formulate a reply. You’ve taken too long now, judging by the way Lia is looking at you with the most shit-eating grin on her fucking face. You groan.

“You like him, you bitch!” 

You shake your head, facing her. “I don’t, dude. Trust me. I just…it was a fun experience, so naturally I’d be laughing. And smiling. But I’m just not interested in Mark! I’m not,” you fumble, being completely honest. 

You didn’t—not even if you looked in the mirror and asked yourself. But you couldn’t deny the feelings you felt in the ten seconds from the elevator to your room, your heart racing and your fist curling and uncurling. When you look at Lia again, she’s still smiling, flushed. “You like him,” she says into her palm, which she’s slapped over her mouth in disbelief. You stare back at her, your expression baffled. “If I did,” you begin, getting up to discard your shirt, “I’d have told you by now. It’s really not that big of a deal unless you make it out to be.”

After that, you and Mark spend nearly three weeks walking on eggshells around each other. While conversations are no longer avoided, and you could talk without getting exasperated or too embarrassed, finger brushes are frequent, and eye contact only makes you extremely nervous. You had worked until the second stage—anger—already, but you’d still been polishing the denial and introduction. Considering November wasn’t over and the paper was due February, you figured you were moving at an okay pace. Besides, a lot of your friends hadn’t even begun.

—

There are two instances where you rush home, mortified beyond belief.

The first when when you struck up a conversation with the cute, Australian barista. Scrawled in big penmanship on his name tag is Chan. You had brought up, in passing, how often you’re at the cafe and how you probably deserve a free drink. He replied with a low hum, and you dialed down your flirty tone, slightly embarrassed. But not really. You’ve rejected plenty of people before. It’s when you’re already paying for your drink that he replied, handing you your (for a change) iced matcha with a small grin. 

“I’d have flirted with you weeks ago if you didn’t have your boyfriend with you all the time. He’s always buying you your drinks.” You spluttered for a good second, staring at him incredulously. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you finally said. 

He had shrugged, nonchalant. “He sure as hell looks at you a lot for someone you’re not dating. And you do it just as much, if not more. I’m observant, by the way. Not a stalker.” You had taken your cup and paced over to the other end of the cafe, sat across Mark, cheeks heated.

He looked up, brow raised. You shook your head.

The second time was when Donghyuck graced you both with his presence. You quickly found out that he was a magnetic presence and you both shared similar interests. The energy you both created was both amusing and annoying to Mark. 

Although you kept quiet mostly, you enabled Donghyuck’s incessant teasing, which annoyed Mark to the ends of the Earth. “You’re a dork. Isn’t he?” You look up and nod with a smile. Mark rolls his eyes, sending Donghyuck into a laughing frenzy. Mark just grunts and continues typing.

Hyuck had made a joke about how two Physics textbooks discussed why the sad man named Mark owns two of them and didn’t have a life, and you laughed. 

You didn’t usually laugh, not around Mark, at least, since it was safe to say you didn’t have any source of entertainment in such a boring guy. But you laughed at the witty joke, and Donghyuck, without thinking much, had said in passing: “Mark, I guess you’re right about everything about her being pretty.”

Mark said nothing, typing. You said nothing. Nobody said anything, not even a sly Donghyuck or, from the counter, an even slyer Chan.

—

When you see Mark next, it’s three days later, and it’s, for the second time, in Johnny’s apartment. 

Lia had asked if you wanted to tag along, and you found no harm in going. (“You’re going because Mark is” becomes Lia’s favorite phrase of the night, so much it’s spread to Daniel, who you’d succumbed to and spilled everything to hours prior.) The walk there has something boiling low in your gut and you’re quiet, in fear you might end up vomiting in nerves or saying something stupid. Lia teases you, but her hand clasping yours reassures you, and you squeeze it tightly. 

You get there late—it’s past 1AM, and you have a sense of deja vu walking into the cramped space. It’s fuller this time—people are creeping into the bedrooms to smoke in private or do some other things, but suffice to say it’s crowded as fuck.

“Want a drink?” Lia hollers, and you nod over the music. Johnny’s neighbor is another upperclassman named Doyoung, though he’s mainly referred to as Doie by just about everybody around him.

You’ve seen his girlfriend call him bunny a few times, though you’ve long desired to repress that memory. 

Judging by the fact that you can faintly hear a different song from the next room, the party has probably extended to Doyoung’s. There’s quite a gathering this week—the rich freshman who you’d befriended once before, Chenle, and his horde of friends are here; from Lia, who hands you a drink, you learn that Kun and Sicheng, two incredibly attractive juniors, are here, too—in Doie’s, though. The party only intensifies, which is hard, because Johnny’s apartment is very tiny.

Eventually, you find yourself in the bathroom, smoking a joint you’d grabbed out of the clammy hands of a tipsy Chenle and kicking a couple out under the guise that you’re Johnny’s cousin. Chenle had protested but eventually given in, pulling a new one out of his pocket.

The bathroom light is white and harsh, but there’s a very funky lamp at the corner. From your place inside the dry (and thankfully clean…looking) bathtub, you eye it. It’s a tall one in the shape of a glass of margarita. 

You heave yourself up and find the switch, and then when it’s on, you giggle at the green light emitting from it. You have absolutely no idea why Johnny, Jaehyun, or their roommate Jungwoo (3J, as some call them) have a decorative, margarita-shaped green lamp, and in their bathroom nonetheless, but you shut off the main light and return to smoking your blunt. Deciding your ass aches far too much, you lean against the tile wall and cherish the smoke.

The door opens abruptly, and you curse, pushing it back closed. 

“I have explosive diarrhea,” you say robotically, using the same excuse you did for the previous three couples that showed up. 

From the other side, you hear a shrill laugh and sound of confusion. When you peer over the other side and see Mark, you groan and laugh. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I saw you come in. Like, twenty minutes ago.”

“I’m cherishing the party privately.”

Mark ushers himself into the dark space and shuts the door. He makes a show of locking it, as if to show you it’s possible to do so. The sound of it locking sends a wave of nerves up your spine. 

“I didn’t lock it in case a medical emergency happens and they have to rush inside.” 

Mark quirks his brow. “I doubt they would think to go inside the restroom and not panic and call 911, you know.” 

You shrug in indifference and take another drag, reluctantly offering it to him.

He takes it, and you pause for a second to observe him. His hair, dark, and which usually covers his entire forehead like a broom or at least parts in the middle slightly, is now styled differently. 

He’s in a fitting black shirt and blue jeans, and, upon your closer inspection, silver rings adorn his fingers. You will yourself to look down. It’s dark. “What’s that you’re holding?” You ask instead, trying not to extend your stare at his shoulders.

“Your puffer coat,” he says, tossing it to you. “Left it last time.”

“That time when you annoyed the shit out of me, right,” you retort.

“Yes, exactly that time. That was ages ago. Weeks ago. Look at us now.”

“Us now—what, still disliking each other?”

He laughs humorlessly, but doesn’t entertain you further. He turns to the lamp instead. “Do you know I was there when they moved this in,” he begins, gesturing to it, “Jae got it at some weird, awful flea market, and he had to buy some extra wiring to fix it or whatever. I was doing Physics homework. It was at the start of this school year. And I bet you didn’t know…” he bends down and reaches to the base of the lamp, pressing a button, “that it changes color.”

The room is bathed in red now, and you swallow. “Interesting,” you manage to say, despite the racing in your head. “Very,” he responds, taking a step closer to you. You gaze up at him. He’s tall. You breathe softly. You nod in agreement. You don’t know what to do. You want to punch him and kiss him and leave all at once. 

You want to kiss him, oh God, you want to kiss him.

“Oh God,” you say softly, out loud. Oh fuck. Too much weed?

He inches closer, leaving the blunt on the rim of the sink. “Why?” He smiles a little and you smile back, nervous. He’s so close now, and he smells so good—like cologne and laundry and weed. You shake your head. “Nothing,” you mumble back.

He’s even closer now, eyes boring into yours. You adjust your strap, a nervous habit. He takes your hand and does it for you. “I like this song,” he says casually, like he’s not playing with the strap of your dress. “Do you know what it’s called?” It’s vaguely familiar to you, but you shake your head. 

“It’s Jhene Aiko,” he replies, and you nod. You gravitate closer.

You stare at him. He stares back. “I’m high,” you say. You giggle. “I had a brownie and that blunt.”

“That’s a lot,” he says. “Don’t finish the blunt, ‘kay?” You nod back, and giggle again. In two seconds, your nervous mechanism has kicked in and you’re laughing like a psycho. “I’m high,” you repeat, and then he kisses you, effectively sobering you up.

Huh. He kisses you, effectively sobering you up. He kisses you.

You kiss back, shocked and relieved, deepening it, trying to get as much of him as possible. His hands are big and wide and warm, traveling all over you. You want him. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, lips molding against yours deliriously. 

“Want you,” you say when his hands play with the hem of your dress, teetering closer and closer to your core. “I said, I want you,” you whine, “now.” Mark only laughs, his hands under your dress and playing with the lace waistband of your underwear. 

“I like how this feels,” he mumbles. “Wanna take a look.” You whimper, hiking your leg up and nodding. “Please, just…touch me,” you say breathlessly. “Please.”

“I will,” he says, voice calm. “You’re being good.” You can’t deny the noise you make at the praise, breathy and loud. You pull him in again, drunk for more, your hands raking through his hair. It’s dark, the both of you basking in the small red light. Mark hikes your dress up, inching it higher, slowly, until he sees the hem of your white lace underwear. He grunts and pulls at it. “I love this,” he says. “So fuckin’, Jesus.” 

You giggle against the smile. He toys with your panties for a bit before finally pulling them down, watching them sink to your ankles. “Hot,” he jokes, and you laugh in disbelief. “Why would you even be joking abou—”

“Mark! Let’s go, it’s 2:30!” Donghyuck’s voice is just as loud and clear as it would be if you weren’t separated by a door. Jolted, you and Mark instinctively break apart and stare at the rattling door. “Maaaark,” he sing-songs, knocking to a beat. You stare at Mark, waiting for him to respond.

“I have explosive diarrhea,” he says. You stifle a guffaw, pulling your panties up.

He pouts, tapping your ass. “Bullshit,” Donghyuck says from outside. “I’m cooomin’ in!”

In the span of a minute, where you realize Donghyuck is not bluffing and in fact has a stolen bathroom key from Jungwoo’s bedside drawer, you manage to shove yourself into the bathtub and hide yourself with the curtain. Mark switches the light back on, much to both of your disappointment, and pretends to smoke the blunt you’d left on the sink fifteen minutes ago. Ergo: pre-kiss.

You find your phone on the bathtub floor and grip it, turning the brightness down. You have a plethora of messages and voicemails from Lia, five calls from Daniel, and an interesting iMessage of Donghyuck’s red, weed-induced eyes from an unknown number. It could be anybody, and that scares you.

The texts are all frantic, and they’re the last things that bring you out of your high and back to reality. Where are u, who u with?, u getting railed??!, Have you seen mark?

“Hyuck, if I actually did have a shitstorm coming out of my ass, you’d be so sorry for breaking in,” you hear Mark say. You sink lower into the bathtub, awaiting Donghyuck’s voice. “You were the one who suggested we go at 2:30, and you’ve been smoking weed for the longest time, dipshit,” he says, “now let’s go. I haven’t seen your Psych girl all night, so you can cry about it at home.” You faintly detect Mark protesting and then, “Let me just freshen up! Just go ahead.”

Reluctantly, you peek out and find Mark alone. You get up and fix your dress.

You’re sober now. The red lights are gone. It’s just you and Mark, plain and simple. Your feelings haven’t gone away, though. You’re fucking fucked. You want him to fuck you. Oh, fuck.

“Go,” you say instead, spluttering. “And I’ll see you. Tuesday.”

You leave first despite yourself, not turning around for even a split second, finding a worried (and then relieved) Lia and taking five consecutive tequila shots to down the nerves and denial bubbling in your system. She raises a brow, but you refuse to even meet her eyes, head and heart pounding impossibly fast. You want to kiss him again. So, so bad. But what the fuck did you just let happen?

—

Stage 2: Anger|

Lia hadn’t pressed, and you were nervous, but it was getting easy to diverge the details of what happened during Johnny’s party. You had instead opted to work alone, too much of a coward to even see Mark’s face. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you feared you might just kiss him if you ever saw him. So you spent days at class working, and then at your dorm working, adjusting your route to avoid, as much as possible, Mark or Hyuck’s buildings and that godforsaken cafe. You did text Mark, though, and the exchanges were brief, not even a “thank you” or “good morning” preceding them. It was awful.

Working alone forced you into a heavy load of retrospection. You would think deeply, like how you are now, spiraling into a series of questions where you studied the play-by-play of what happened in the bathroom, up against the wall. You liked it. A lot. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t let yourself. Why it even happened…God. You mentally berated yourself for giving into it. Didn’t you hate him? Or at least dislike him? Didn’t you take pleasure in scolding him or fighting with him?

“You’re freaking me out,” Lia says from her bed. She’s been staring at you. “You’ve been lying on your bed staring at the ceiling for twenty straight minutes.” She walks over to you, flopping next to you, her arms winding around your body. “You can tell me anything.”

“I know,” you say, nervous. You gulp.

“Okay. If you’re n—”

“Mark and I kissed.”

She sits up and turns to look at you.

“Made out, more like. We were going to fuck if we didn’t get interrupted.” You’re mortified, refusing to meet her gaze. When you look up, her face is even, but you know she’s bubbling over with giddiness inside. “That is so fucking great, dude,” she replies. “Why are you so embarrassed?”

“Because it’s Mark,” you whine. “He’s not…I don’t know.”

She lies back down. “You’re overthinking this.” You laugh, poking her waist. “I know, but I just…I feel like he might not like me much anymore.” You recount the way you left him hanging, despite the lack of awkward air and the potential to talk and become something. She tsks but justifies it, because she’s so good at that, being a mediator, and you continue with your day quietly. 

Your mind is always on it, though, his hands and his lips, and you’ve scoured Spotify for the song playing that he had commented on.

It’s called Pussy Fairy. You cannot make it up. It’s a weird title, but the song is heavenly, and you can’t deny when it’s full blast on your AirPods and your hand is creeping closer and closer there, trying desperately to replicate what you felt in that moment. When you’re not sated, ashamed and sighing, you resort to working on your paper. There are moments where both you and Mark are working at the same time, and you hate yourself for getting all flustered when it happens. 

—

It’s a Tuesday, in the early afternoon, when you’re out of class and cleaning out the little litter in your dorm, repasting whatever decorations fell off, et cetera. You have the time, anyway, and it wouldn’t hurt to fix the place up a bit. You’re halfway into re-stringing Lia’s fairy lights when someone knocks on the door, jolting you. You curse under your breath, hopping off her bed to swing the door open and reveal—

“What is up?!” Donghyuck grins back at you. His hand is raised in a high-five invitation, which you hesitantly reciprocate. “Mark tells me you’re meeting today, and that I should come remind you, since it seems like you forgot. He says you haven’t texted all day. Since I was on this floor—do you know Jeno Lee? Do you know it’s so amusing how Mark, Jeno, and I all have the same surname? Anyway. I was here on your floor to remind Jeno about an Econ presentation, and Mark texts me and goes, if you’re with Jeno, then remind you—you as in you, you—to come meet me and work.” 

He talks so goddamn fast. “You talk so goddamn fast.”

He just guffaws, high-fiving you again. “Well, you get my point, right? Meet Mark at the cafe and work is all he said to do. If you wanna.” You nod slowly, absorbing his words. “Tell him I’ll be a little late,” you say simply, and as you’re about to shut the door, he talks again, his voice quieter this time. “I know you were hiding behind the curtain.”

You pull the door open again, so fast a minuscule gust of wind washes over both of your faces. “You’re kidding,” you say, “you’re kidding.” You stare at each other for a second before his solem features break into a smile. “I am. Mark spilled everything to me, so I decided to trick you.” Relief and annoyance break over your system as you swat Donghyuck’s shoulder. “You’re a dick,” you spit. “You’re bringing a bad image to Econ majors.”

He merely laughs and closes the door himself, light brown hair fluffing with the severity of his laugh (cackle.) Slightly annoyed, you drag yourself to get dressed, dread building up in your stomach at the prospect of seeing Mark again. Not when your mind conjures up what happened everytime you just see his name. Or the word mark. You’ve been out of it since it happened, not even responding to your usual heated debates with the conservative Trump supporter in class. You suppose the best way to confront it is to simply confront it.

When you get there, though, it’s clear that confrontation would not be an option. Immediately, when you sit, the air shifts into something oddly familiar—the atmosphere between the two of you when you first got partnered up. Except now, Mark won’t even give you a pinch of attention, or banter, instead typing his questions into the document to avoid verbal conversation. (He is a fucking petty bitch, you’ll give him that.)

You stroll over to the counter, pout set on your lips. “Hello,” Chan says politely, and you just smile half-heartedly. “Lover’s quarrel?” He teases, and you roll your eyes. “He’s ignoring me,” you respond, watching him make you a latte. “And we’re not dating. We never were.”

“Mm, right,” he says, finishing and setting your drink in front of you. You laugh a little, taking it. “No. We weren’t. But I’ll update you.”

When you return, Mark’s looking at you, quiet as ever. You break his gaze and continue working, working and working until the sun sets, nestled deep behind the horizon. When you look up again, the sky is already dark, city lights providing solace to the place. You look at Mark quizzically, as if to ask him what time you should both leave, but he just shrugs. “Any time,” he states plainly, and huffing, you get up.

“I’ll go right ahead then,” you say, trying your best to sound annoyed and get your message across. He says nothing, watching you pack up your stuff and sling your bag over your shoulder, and then eventually, leave.

Daniel is the first to see you in your raged, annoyed state—you meet him in the elevator of the lobby, your blood boiling and your fists balled. Knowing you’re headed to the same floor, he presses the button, ruffles his hair, and then lets the silence take over. And then, “What’s going on?” You breathe deeply, turning to him with a tired look on your face. “Mark’s going on,” you mumble, “he was ignoring me the entire time. And to think he was the one who requested my presence! It makes no sense. Why would he ignore me when we can just talk about it?”

“About what?”

It suddenly occurs to you that Daniel knows about your weird feelings for Mark, but not how they culminated. You splutter. “Um, about us. Everything.” Daniel looks amused, but the doors open, and you thank them for the temporary exit from the topic. He stops you right outside, though, and pulls out two ticket, card-looking things. “Wait, um. Listen, Lia and I are going to reach our seven-month…anniversary, I guess, of, y’know, being a thing. I know it seems really small, but I want to give her a little something out of appreciation, so I got us a room at this ski lodge outside the city.”

“That’s so sweet,” you say honestly, “but I must admit, it comes on sort of stalker-y. Like you’re whisking her off out of the city.”

He beams even louder. “That’s why you’re coming. With Mark!”

You gape back at him. “Did you miss the whole I-hate-him thing that happened in there?” You jab your finger towards the closed elevator doors, disbelief written across your face. He laughs. “Sometimes you can’t keep hiding behind”—he begins walking to your room, and you follow suit—“emotions, like anger. When I liked Lia, there was a point where I was just pretending to alienate her so I wouldn’t have to face that I was starting to love her. Like her. And you know, she did it right back.” 

“Oh, quit it,” you scoff, insistent. “You’re lecturing me like you’ve been married a decade.”

“That’s what I want,” he says, and you gag. “The first step to that would be ski lodge trip, so you’re coming!”

You’re in front of your room now, and you pinch his wrist as he reaches for the handle, gaining his full attention. “I’ll gladly go,” you whisper, “if Mark’s out.” Daniel just laughs, shaking his head. “No, no. An overnight trip would delay your paper severely. Plus, they have two beds per room.”

“We’ll be staying in the same roo—hey, Li,” you say, quickly cutting your angry rant off when she opens the door, her face confused (to say the least.) 

“Mm, hey,” she says, ushering the two of you in. “How long were you two out there?” Daniel shrugs, ruffling his hair and then pressing a kiss on Lia’s forehead. You boo from your place on your bed, buried under your duvet. “You both suck,” you holler, “always sexing it up in a sacred space. AKA my room.” Lia just grins and jumps on top of you, drawing grunts from you both. Daniel seats himself on the floor and busies himself with his phone. “How was Mark,” she whispers into your hair, and you groan.

“Bad,” you respond, “I’m so annoyed. We’re back to square one.” She makes an apologetic noise and gets up with a sigh, adjusting the strings of her pullover and then hugging Daniel. You watch them. You want to kiss Mark again. Life sucks that way.

—

Predictably, Mark turns down the offer of the ski lodge. He’s polite about it, too, especially since he and Daniel have grown a little bit closer since the start of your project. Daniel is, by no means, a “Mark anti”, but he would participate in the ribbing sometimes. Still, he’s insistent on the trip, saying it’s the best way to welcome December and that the forecast predicts a nice, thick layer of snow. It takes a week and two coffees everyday for Mark to give in, under the condition that he buy his own room when you get there.

Which, honestly, really, you have no problem with. Really, you think to yourself as you unceremoniously shove a knitted sweater into your bag. Really. Lia, who had graciously accepted the surprise, watches you abuse your bag, shoving sweater and scarf inside like they want to murder you. “Relax,” she says after a while. You laugh, playing it off (not so) casually.

The drive up there, courtesy of Daniel and a borrowed Prius, is fun, and cramped, but still decent, considering it was just an hour long. You’re in the back with Lia, and Mark is in charge of the AUX, which, of course, comes with its own bout of jokes. You even find the heart to participate and laugh in a few, not daring to meet his eyes. But all his songs are so fucking good. Frank Ocean, Jhene Aiko, SZA, and smaller indie artists flow from the speaker under his phone. The car ride has its share of epic karaoke moments—Mark plays ABBA, and Queen, solely to make sure everybody is belting out to the high heavens.

You get there when the sky’s purple and orange and there are some skiiers scattered around, though, since it’s not the proper holiday period, not too much. You trek over to the main lodge and that’s where Daniel pays for his reservations, and he and Lia retire to their room and promise to get up for dinner. You’re, again, alone with Mark in the lobby as you both stare at each other, willing the other to get up first. He does, to buy his own room like he said he would, and you can faintly hear the exchange from your seat on their nice, fluffy couch.

“I’m sorry, sir. We’re renovating a majority of the rooms for the holidays. That’s why reservations were a prerequisite for staying here.”

Mark sighs. “Okay, right. I’m so sorry. Um”—it’s at this point that you go up next to him, polite smile on your face, ready to take the room key and fuck off—“could we just get an extra blanket, please? For one of the beds.” The receptionist gives a curt smile, handing over the keycard and nodding. “That’ll be one queen-sized warm blanket, then,” she hums, typing away. The receptionist beside her goes to the back, presumably to get the blanket. Mark nods, smiling. “For two queen-sized beds, it must be a big room for both of them to fit comfortably,” he comments offhandedly, fiddling with the card.

The receptionist chuckles. “There is only one bed, sir.”

Oh, God. “Oh, God,” you whisper. “One bed?” She nods with an eye-crinkling smile, like her words have not just rained hell upon the two people across her. “One bed and a sofa,” she corrects herself, reading the information on the computer by the desk. Not wanting to risk your last shred of sanity, you smile profusely, walking quickly towards your room which, thankfully, is on the same floor, at the end of the hall. It’s a small, quaint place that would be honest-to-God perfect if not for the fact that—

“There’s one bed,” Mark sighs, the truth clicking into place. “Daniel is a fucking shithead.” You drop your bag onto the carpeted floor, surveying the room with a scrutinizing gaze. It’s sizable—a bed, a couch, a window. There’s a small wooden desk that looks like its legs can barely hold its weight, and then another door, leading to the bathroom. It’s not bad at all. But you’re exhausted, the sun’s long gone, and your resolve is shredding away as the seconds tick by. “Take the couch,” you say dismissively, “or the carpet.” You make a beeline for the bed, but Mark’s arm wraps around your waist, effectively stopping you.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod “Shut up and let go of me, dick,” you stutter out. Mark loosens his grip and you shove him off, glaring at him. He gazes back down at you, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “We can’t just make up terms without negotiation,” he says matter-of-factly, and you blow a raspberry. “Fine. Let’s negotiate then. I’m a girl and that puts me above you because chivalry isn’t dead, thus, boom, I get the bed.”

“I was in the uncomfortable passenger seat all day and my lower back hurts,” he counters.

“My legs are wobbly.”

“Bullshit. My back aches.”

“You already said that, it’s invalid.”

The back and forth only intensifies, your arguments growing more and more bizarre, until finally, your volume is so high Lia says she can hear it faintly, four doors down. 

“The couch looks comfy,” you try, but Mark stands firm. 

“Do you know what? The bed is big. It’s a big bed. And we’re not going to take up much space. If we divide the bed with the sofa pillows…” you pick up the cushions and line them up neatly along the middle, “…then we can sleep beside each other without having to make contact with each other.” He seems convinced, stepping closer to the bed and nodding. “Okay. I get first dibs on the shower.”

“Asshole,” you mutter, but you let him anyway. You’ve unpacked nearly all your things and he isn’t done yet, so you’ve resorted to scrolling mindlessly through Tiktok and laughing at just about everyone that pops up on screen. Mark finally exits after what feels like forever, and you keep your eyes trained on your screen to avoid looking at him. From your peripheral vision, he is very much shirtless. There are no words exchanged, the thickness in the air only building bit by bit.

—

Three hours later, post-dinner, post-abandoning the thought of working on your paper, you’re stumbling into your room after helping the very tipsy couple of the night into theirs. You’re beyond tired now, and you can tell Mark is, too, despite the lack of eye contact or communication between you. You don’t even look at him, brushing your teeth and removing your makeup and clipping your hair up into a bun. It’s when he does the same, and you’re both in bed, using your phones, that he finally breaks the silence.

“I’m not mad,” he says. His voice is even and calm, and you quickly shut your phone off and sit up, peering over the pillow boundary you had created. You look at him expectantly before he sighs and continues. “Why did you leave?”

You stand up, getting out, trying to increase distance. You’ve never really liked confrontation. “I was weirded out,” you spill, “and scared…? I guess with the nearness of being caught, and with all the lights on, I was just shocked back to reality.”

He sits up. “What’s reality?”

“I don’t—know,” you splutter, getting back on the bed. “Not kissing you?”

He laughs, and then it becomes silent. “Right. Let’s sleep, then.” Without another word, he pulls his lamp off, and only the white moonlight is left illuminating the both of you. Shucking yourself under the covers, feeling your heart practically thump out of your chest. You honestly think he can hear it, or at least feel it. Suddenly the boundary doesn’t do much. You turn away from him, nervous, and you can faintly hear his breathing even out. You shut your eyes for a second. When you open them again, he’s looking right at you. “Just checking to see if you’re asleep,” he says quietly. You nod. And then you lean upwards, just a touch, so your lips nearly brush slightly. “Night,” you say, before turning to sleep for real.

You’re not sure when. And how. Sure, you faintly remember digging your legs sleepily through the sheets to find warmth and tangling Mark’s in your own. But still—when you’re up, the pillow fort is at your feet, hanging precariously off the four post bed, and your back is against Mark’s chest. His breath fans lightly over your hair and you blearily register what happened overnight. His arm is slung over your middle, it’s quiet, and oh Christ, he is hard.

It’s fairly late. He’s hard. The antique clock mounted up on the wall tells you it’s around nine, which essentially gave you seven hours of sleep. He’s hard. You bask in the warmth of Mark for a while before your resolve solidifies and you gently push his arm off from its position on your hips. He only comes on stronger, wrapping fully around your waist, mumbling incoherence into your hair. He’s hard. You squeeze your eyes shut, summoning sleep to overcome you quickly, but it never does. Dread overcomes you as you feel your underwear grow damp.

“Mm,” Mark grunts, his hand around your waist loosening. You move away but his head suddenly lolls into the crook of your neck, his lips touching the side of it. You whimper. He’s a fucking asshole, even when he’s asleep. You pinch his arm, jolting him to half-awakeness, and you roll away, despite your body’s protests.

He blinks his eyes open. “Sorry, shit,” he says, voice deep and ridden with sleep. You’re fucked.

“It’s okay,” you splutter instead. “Just go back to sleep.” You faintly register that you sound just as exhausted as he does, and you bury your head back into the covers. Everything, plus the sound of his voice, has you dripping, and you breathe in deeply to poorly disguise a whimper. He chuckles, already half-asleep, from where he is, and it’s quiet for a few minutes before you realize he’s fallen asleep. Knowing Lia and Daniel will be busy for a while, you pull a spare pillow over your head and chant to yourself before falling back asleep, too.

When you awaken, the bed is cold and empty, and the shower’s running. You check the time to find only an hour has passed, but you’re much more awake now, getting up and knocking incessantly on the bathroom door. “Hurry,” you demand hoarsely, “I want to go skiing.” You hear a muffled okay and scurry over to your bag to find the pair of leggings you had packed for this. You also find your parka, and you pull off your shirt to clasp on a bra.

“Not that I don’t mind,” Mark says, eliciting a yelp from you as you tug a sweater on at record speed, “but generally, that kind of thing only goes unnoticed in nudist colonies. I could research some for you, if you’d—ow! I was joking, God!” You bonk him twice over the head with the Bible on the bedside table, your brows furrowed angrily. “You looked, asshat,” you say, collecting your things and locking yourself in the bathroom.

When it becomes increasingly evident that Lia and Daniel have no plans of exiting their room, you grumble and resort to skiing alone. But as you’re shuffling out, bundled up, you spot Mark leaning against the exit waiting for you. He looks up and tsks. “About fucking time,” he says, holding the door open for you. It’s not that cold out—maybe you’re just used to having snow and chilly weather, and so is Mark—so you barely shiver, walking around and looking for a good place to ski.

“Forget skiing,” Mark says after a few rounds. “Let’s go sledding. I have a thing.”

“A toboggan, you mean.”

“A funny word. Really, just say sled.”

You let up, anyway, the bright sky and cold ground sending serotonin right into you. Sure enough, Mark does have a nice, blue sled that he lets you on, and then the two of you are bolting down the hill at breakneck speed, laughing all the way. It’s quite a long ride, and you’re smiling and yelping so much the cloth you’ve used to cover your neck has ridden down, the cold air hitting your face harshly.

You land very ungracefully—the toboggan hits a small tree and sends you and Mark catapulting in the same direction, your hands clawing at the air for expense. You find Mark’s arm and cling onto it in the split second you’re in the air, landing on a clearing of thick snow. The arm you’ve clung onto pulls you closer, Mark grunting “be careful,” and when the whole fiasco’s over, you’re smiling like an idiot, and you’re right on top of Mark.

You’re not straddling him or anything, but you’ve just happened to land with your face a little above his. You can’t stop laughing, your face flushed and red with the cold air hitting your face. So you laugh. Why wouldn’t you laugh? It was a good day. A good ride down the hill. So you keep laughing until they’re reduced to giggles, Mark laughing right along as you pull down the covering of his mouth and tug his beanie off, ruffling your hands in his hair and dipping down to kiss him.

He kisses you right back, his lips cold but quickly growing warm with the friction. You smile into the kiss, your hands roaming all over his pink face. The kiss is giggly and light, your hands all over each other as the sunlight filters in through the thick trees overhead.

You pull away after a while. “I hate you,” you whisper. He presses a kiss to your jawline and lets it linger there. “You think I don’t?”

—

Stage 3: Bargaining, Depression|

You’ve begun to type the structure out when Lia tugs on your pajamas, her tone insistent and curious. “What’s up with you and Mark?” she presses, her cheek pressed to your stomach. You fervently hope she doesnt notice how your breathing quickens, and, keeping your voice even, you answer. “We’re…thinking about things.”

Which—you were thinking about things, to be fair. There were things to be thought and you had to think about them. It was a broad half-truth. It had been two weeks since the ski lodge thing, and you and Mark had decided it was probably best to shut the fuck up about everything you had done. (Everything meaning a few kisses here and there, and maybe a little more under the covers.) You’d hated yourself for hiding it from Lia, but you and Mark were actually feeling hesitant about moving forward with whatever you were. There was a lot of ambiguity and questions, and until you could clear it up yourself, you knew you weren’t ready to tell anybody else. You had talked about it already—clearly, the two of you were beyond jumping straight into a relationship after not liking each other that much and then becoming hesitant friends.

But it was, if you had to admit it to yourself, nice having that little secret.

“I’d want to tell Lia soon,” you tease, walking steadily beside Mark. The afternoon sun is warm on your heads, the snow falling intermittently. He turns with a small smile. “I’d want to tell Hyuck, too.” You scoff, burying your head in his chest. You probably look fucking disgusting. Around you, Washington Square Park is full of natives and tourists, and college students like you, all scurrying around and giving you that very much holiday feel.

He buys you a hot cocoa and hands it to you. “Are you heading home soon?”

You take a sip, your tongue hot. “If my ratty dorm counts as home, then yes.”

“Home is a feeling, not a place. Does your ratty dorm feel like home?”

“Kind of. Lia’s there. And so is the rat infestation in the ceiling.”

Mark nearly chokes on his cocoa. “You’re gross as fuck.”

You let out a loud laugh, your beanie nearly falling off with the bounciness of it. Mark reaches behind you to catch it, pressing a kiss to your lips in the process, soft and light and God, you like it. A lot. “Clumsy,” he remarks, pulling it back on and dragging a generous amount of your hair in front of your eyes as he does it. “It’s gonna be Christmas soon, and thank God we’re nearly done with this paper.”

“It was my genius idea to combine bargaining and depression,” you quip. “That’s my gift to you. Merry Christmas, Mark Lee.” He laughs at that. His laugh, you’ve noticed, is goddamn loud, and it’s a literal cackle, but he always looks so happy when he laughs. And buoyant. “You look stupid,” you say, but the smile on your face is undeniable. He glares playfully at you, taking your hand and walking you both in the direction of your building.

“New York in the snow,” he hums. “Always a great place.”

“It’s full of tourists,” you counter. Always disagreeing.

He chuckles and then, like clockwork—like how you’ve done it for the past six dates—you separate when you’re just shy of a meter away from the lobby entrance. Your fingers curl in search of his, and you jog up the steps, eager to get into the warmth of the building. The lobby’s pretty empty, save for a couple of students. Mark’s ahead of you, already pressing the elevator button and waiting impatiently. 

“We’re alone,” he sing-songs, his eyebrows wiggling. The doors open right as you take Mark’s hand, and you look up to meet Daniel’s wide eyes. Then you look to the right to meet Lia’s.

Despite your inner turmoil, you remain nonchalant, pinching Mark’s wrist instead of holding it like you’d planned. “That’s why our professor fucking hates you,” you say, narrowing your eyes. Your heart is beating a mile a minute, but you muster a neutral expression, shoving your hands back into your pockets. Lia knows you, though, and her furrowed eyebrows and parted lips say everything—but you just shrug, playing off what they could have caught you doing. “Hey,” you say, walking into the elevator with Mark. It all blows over.

AKA: Daniel has to drag a curious Lia away from you, with a promise that you would converse later. You and Mark are alone again, in the elevator, your hands barely touching, laughs loud. It’s all blurry after that. You’re high on a laugh and the thought of a kiss—you drag him over to your room, hands in his hair, breathless, loose kisses. You’re both so exhausted, though, that all you manage to extend your energy to is taking your tops off and making out lazily to the songs you’d recommended to each other.

“Mm,” he says when one of your songs starts playing. “It’s a nice song.” You nod with a smile. “I know it is, it’s one of my recommendations. It’s called Softly.” He plays with the strap of your bra. “I’ll give it more of a listen, then. Also, a red bra to school? Whatever will the professors think,” he jokes lightly, pressing insistent, but soft kisses on your shoulder. You laugh, pinching the inner part of his arm and eliciting a swear from him. “I was joking! I know you wore this for me, stupid.” The wind whistles outside, barely audible from the half-open window across the room, overlapping with the music.

This all feels too real, now.

You pout lazily against his bare chest. “Get off before Lia gets in,” you mumble, your heart beginning to race. He does, for what it’s worth, rolling off your bed with a loud thump and tugging his shirt and sweater back on. You watch him (fondly) annoyedly, your hair draping over you as you get up to properly shove him out. “Out, out,” you chant, laughing, and he giggles, turning abruptly to poke at your waist.

“Shut up,” you groan, a smile on your face. There’s a beat, then he pulls you close and kisses you, running outside right after with a literal guffaw. You watch him, wrapping your fleece blanket around your frame as he runs to the elevator, sweater backwards and hair messy.

—

Doubts are normal. This you’re assured of, but your head pounds with the sheer amount of things you’re cramming into it. You squint impossibly harder, trying to get the nail polish into the crook of Lia’s nail. You’ve probably overdone it, judging by the way she jabs her knuckle in between your eyebrows, her face contorted in worry. “Are you…okay?”

You narrow your eyes, the inner debate of telling her raging on and on. The nail polish drips onto her fingernail, rolling onto her pant leg, and she yelps, but her eyes are still on you. “You can tell me anything,” she says, softer this time. You know she’s serious—you know you can. You always have. You told her about every fling, one night stand, pregnancy scare, bad grade, hot professor, and spoiled deli food you’d encountered since you ever became friends. She knew you. And you were so sure she knew what you were about to say.

Except you didn’t know what you wanted to say. Your feelings were a mess, and you wanted one thing as much as you wanted the other. You couldn’t place what you wanted, and if you had to narrow it down, you’d realize that you were scared of what you wanted. You were never really one for commitment, or a relationship, or really anything, for that matter. And the fact that you were so hung up on thinking about what you and Mark would become—Mark? It all seemed so dystopian, almost. Like you’d never expected it. Your friendship was a childhood bubble that popped in the span of your first high school semester, and that was that. But just two days ago you were being kissed all over by the same guy you’d had a cutthroat student council president competition with.

It seemed so absurd? Crazy? Those adjectives were a little over the top. Deep down, if you dug deep enough into the parts you didn’t even tell yourself, you knew what you were. And if anybody else were to know, it would be Lia.

“I’m scared,” you choke out, your voice shaky. “I’m scared and sad, and happy and angry, and I want this but I don’t.” You cover the nail polish, shaking your head. “This is all so new to me. I hate how much I feel, especially because it feels so wrong. You know me—relationships are just not cut out for me. They’re scary and new. And people in relationships turn all gooey. I’m scared that this won’t last, but I’m scared that it will, and I’ll be doomed to an eternity of bland, padlocked relationships. It’s weird. I could be feeling this way for anyone, but it had to be Mark? If only I didn’t hate him, then maybe we could’ve gone off on a better foot. If only this whole thing never fucking happened, right?”

“It’s okay,” Lia cuts in. “Being scared is okay. It’s part of the whole process. And nobody said you had to get along like conjoined twins in a relationship. They just go when they go and end when they end. Not every relationship starts as a high school sweetheart thing and ends with three kids and a picket fence. And I’m so sure Mark would be so understanding if you didn’t like him or if you chose not to continue.”

“You knew?”

She laughs. “Of course I knew. I know a post-sex glow when I see one, and I was blinded that morning at the ski lodge.” You groan, pinching her indignantly, hiding your face in your hands as she laughs out of view. “Okay. Take some time and think about it, but for now, I want to get my nails done, so.” 

—

It’ll be a week before you come up with what you want, and the whole time you generally avoid talking about solemn topics with him in person. 

It’ll be another few days before you finally talk to him personally—with your paper nearly finished, you suggest a meeting at the library. It’s just two days before Christmas Eve, and you know Mark’s going to be driving to Canada, so you want to snatch him away for your own personal time for just a second. The snow has all but thickened as you meet outside the building, the silence deafening.

“Hi,” he says, smiling. You know he’s probably picked up on your erratic, quieter behavior in the past several days, but you gulp and lead him inside anyways, to your favorite section. “It’s almost Christmas Eve,” he says, watching you stall, surrounded by Philosophy books from just about every century. “I know,” you say, hoping you don’t sound too nervous.

“You sound nervous,” he says.

“Do I?” you ask shakily, your voice taking on an unnaturally high pitch. “I mean, er. I guess I sort of am. I guess I’ve been thinking about everything lately—about you and me and everything that just happened so suddenly. Because—because it did happen so suddenly. I just…needed time? Yeah, time. To think about everything. Because it all happened so quickly, I…” you stutter. “I’m scared of these things. I’m not used to them. Relationships? Things that last longer than a couple weeks? I don’t like these. 

I have something bigger I want to focus on and anybody who gets in the way just isn’t worth it. And it’s so weird how it was you out of all people I started thinking about it with. Usually I just have the rare fling and then they’re gone, and I’m not even mad. But you’re different. And I like it. 

But I just needed time to find out if I really liked it. If I really wanted to try. I know it’s only been a few weeks, and I probably sound really fucking stupid, but you get me—you get me, right? And that’s how I realized—if it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. I don’t know why I overthought it. I mean, it’s a good thing and a bad thing that I did. Like, on one hand, I got to really think about how this would play out, and on the other, I’d just end up spiraling. And it’s just weird. I hope you don’t know I hated you. Hate you? Hated you. I was just—it was all so juvenile. Everything just stemmed from that one awfully dumb high school rivalry. But other than that, you were always a cool…see what I mean? I’m kind of rambling—even if I thought I had planned this out. And. Yeah. I dunno. I fucking…I hate you, stop laughing.”

Mark smiles down at you—you’re busy pretending to read a Sartre book to look unfazed, but your flickering gaze says it all. 

“Okay, stupid,” he says, bordering onto a laugh. “If that’s your way of saying you’re willing to give this a try, then I graciously accept. Should I be saying something equally long? I—is that how this works?”

You roll your eyes and kiss him instead, pulling him close, Sartre’s postulates dropping to the floor alongside your tiptoes.

—

Stage 4: Acceptance|

“Acceptance is just that. Just accepting that you love that person after weeks or months of all the other stages. With her, it was. Like. It’s the whole sitting down after silence, having some time for the revelation to set in before you realize you love them. Or like them? Well, love them, I guess. But I don’t know why you would be asking me this.”

You bury your head further into Mark’s shoulder, your eyes strained from how long they’d been trained onto your screen. You smile up at Daniel, thanking him for the input and beginning to type it in, watching Lia doze off on his shoulder. “We’re asking because we’re not quite there yet,” Mark hums, “it’s just February. It’s barely been two months.” You nod, watching Mark type where you left off on the document. Daniel snorts from across you. “You’re just about, I guess.” Mark chuckles, shrugging so your head bounces off his shoulder unceremoniously.

“Like I’d ever fall in love with that shitstorm,” he says pointedly.

“Oh, and I’d fall in love with this dickwad?”

“You’re perfect for each other. Bullying, but we all know Mark brought back gifts from Canada and that you stitched an initial onto his sweater.”

“To practice my embroidery. Also, I stitched Mark’s initial. M. Asshole.”

“Okay,” whistles Daniel, his hand unconsciously coming up to make sure Lia doesn’t fall off his shoulder. “But hey, you’re just about to submit this paper and I’m fondly remembering all the times you despised each other. And when you”—he points at you, devilish grin on his face—“started gushing to Lia about how he”—he then turns to Mark—“kissed you at Johnny’s party.”

“God, it’s not the time for that yet, we’re still a fresh couple,” you groan, burying your head in your hands. “You have so much dirt on me, Choi.” Mark just laughs, though, loudly, bringing the other cafe-goers’ attention to yours. He bites your shoulder to stifle it, eliciting a laugh from you. “I agree, there should be a certain time requirement for pre-relationship embarrassing stories,” Mark says, closing his laptop. Lia gets up at that point, already half-awake from the ruckus (AKA Mark’s laugh), pulling on Daniel’s sleeve. “Alright, and that’s my cue to get this girl some more coffee and then go.”

“Mm, I’ll come with,” you say, “I need a refresher before we leave soon, anyway.”

You walk in between them, your fingers laced in Lia’s as she squeezes them sleepily. They order first and then they’re off with a smile and a polite goodbye, leaving you to order your drink. You gaze up at the menu, and then down at—

“Long time no see,” Chan says with a knowing beam. “How is your not boyfriend boyfriend?”

“Well, he’s my boyfriend now.”

“See, I always know. What do you want?”

“An iced ca—how did you know?” You ask, tempted.

“It’s just…the energy? It was a hit or miss, but I kinda got that feeling that something was going to happen.”

“Hmm,” you hum. “An iced caramel then.”

“And a black coffee for her best friend!” Hollers a new voice that you could never miss, turning slowly towards the entrance to meet Donghyuck’s crazy eyes. He’s in a suit, which isn’t unusual given the sheer amount of presentations he’s had to do since the new year started. You roll your eyes but put in the extra cash anyway, much to Chan’s amusement. Hyuck nears you with a sly grin. “I hear you’ll be submitting your paper soon. I just want my name in there so I’m in your professor’s good graces.”

“She’s not even going to be your professor, Hyuck,” you say, taking your drink and smiling at Chan. You and Donghyuck both walk back to where Mark’s sitting, you beside him and Hyuck across the both of you. “Yes, but it pays to be in somebody’s good graces, I swear. See what happened? I got you two together. I orchestrated your entire love st—”

“Okay, now you’re just lying, Hyuck,” Mark says with a laugh, finishing up the first few paragraphs and closing his laptop. “We’re not even in love.” But his friend lets out a teasing smile, his eyes narrowed, and he gets up with a loud farewell and alibi about “being needed by my better friends.” You assume he’s talking about Jeno.

—

You walk to Mark’s room alongside him, thanks to the promise of his roommate, Jaemin, sleeping at a friend’s. Your fingers are intertwined loosely. The sun’s setting and Mark’s room is sheathed in beautiful shades of orange and pink, a vast array of dusk settling over the space. It happens quietly, but full of laughs, which is how it happens when you’re both tired and/or shitfaced. You do this a lot—a routine of sharing new songs or books you’d picked up over the week and then making out while they play in the background or while one of you read. It’s awfully, horribly, terribly fucking intimate. 

“Your bra sucks,” he jokes.

You love it.

“Get better abs and we can talk about it,” you counter, poking his toned stomach. He really, fully guffaws at that, pulling you onto his lap and then tugging his guitar out from where it stands at the corner. You flop back onto his bed, watching him play—and then registering the familiar opening of the Jonas Brothers song you used to request nearly everyday. “Lovebug,” you muse with a smile, singing along to his voice, carried away. You’re sleepy and light, and you know deep down—in that space of yourself where you’re all but honest—that you were going to fall in love with him someday.

Later, when all you’re doing is hugging him as he reads your latest Philosophy requirement to you, he pauses.

“Is this the 21st century idea of love?” He asks idly, unclasping your bra and connecting the moles on your shoulder. You hum. 

“It’s the Gen Z idea,” you say, connecting the ones on his bare back. “And this isn’t love.”

“Corny.” he smiles against your collarbones. You kiss his neck. It’s all very gradual.

—

hope you liked it :) drop an ask! I absolutely love all types of feedback 

[agerefandom]

Only Heaven I’ll Be Sent To

Fandom: Resident Evil VIII/Village

Words: 4,000

Characters: regressor!reader, cg!Alcina Dimitrescu, Bela Dimitrescu (other Dimitrescu sisters mentioned).

Content Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence. CGLRE terminology/parental caregiver terms (Mommy). Diaper mentions. Firearms, knives, and vampirism. Reader gets injured (but cared for afterwards). Minor character death. Blood. Eldritch biology and limited insect horror. Fem reader (uses she/her pronouns). 

Author’s Notes: Y’all are clearly hungry for caregiver Lady Dimitrescu, and I hear you! I’m planning a fluffy follow-up fanfiction with a happy reader getting babied by Alcina, where there is no blood and violence, but first… we have to take care of Ethan Winters. So that’s what this is. Enjoy! 

You come to consciousness slowly, the strands of a dream still clinging to you. The memory is already fading, but you remember feeling cold. Wandering a frozen wasteland, lost and alone.

It’s a relief to breathe in the warm air of your bedroom. The fire has burned down to embers, but the windows keep out the cold winter of the mountains around the castle where you live. The rooms are always kept warm for the comfort of your big sisters.

You yawn and stretch your arms over your head, wiggling your toes against the soft sheets of your bed as you shake off the lingering fatigue. You were dressed in a onesie for the night, with a short built-in skirt, and you don’t really feel like a baby right now. Today, you want to run around and explore the castle on certain legs.

You slide out of the bed and make an unhappy sound as the cold stone meets your bare feet. You quickly make your way over to the heavy wardrobe that towers on the wall across from your bed. Far too tall for you, it was made to fit Mommy’s dresses, but you liked climbing in it so much that Mommy brought it to your room one night while you were sleeping, and filled it with your own outfits.

You reach up to the handle and pull the doors open, looking up at the many dresses and onesies that fill the wardrobe. It’s winter right now, so there’s a whole section of fur-lined dresses that will keep you warm if you want to play with Mommy outside. You don’t do that often, because your sisters get jealous, but Mommy is really good at making snowforts that you can climb inside, and you like playing with her in the snow.

For today, you pick out a simple ruffled black dress that comes down to your knees. Mommy can do your hair with black ribbons and crow feathers, and you’ll blend in with your sisters’ dark dresses.

Humming to yourself, you bring the new outfit over to the statue in the corner. The door to the bathroom is hidden in an alcove, and you have to push the statue’s elbow to open it. This seemed odd when you first moved into this room, but now it’s just another part of your daily routine. The castle is full of tricks and hidden passages, and you still haven’t explored all of them.

You slip past the statue into the revealed doorway, and dump your clothes on the floor as you rid yourself of the onesie and the diaper underneath. Baby stuff! You’re not a baby today.

You replace the diaper with a pair of soft bloomers, and the onesie with the black dress. It has a line of buttons that run up your spine, and you can’t quite reach them all, so you leave a few undone and decide you’ll ask one of your sisters to help. Mommy has been busy a lot for the last few days, so you don’t know if you’ll see her today. You hope so, though. You miss her.

You pull a pair of stockings on, sighing happily as your toes are finally protected from the cold tile floor. The rest of the bathroom visit is boring, brushing your teeth and washing your face. One of your big sisters will brush your hair: hopefully Bela, she tugs your scalp the least.

Once you’re all dressed, you skip out of the bathroom and slip on a pair of shoes. They’re flats, because you’re too young to walk in heels, but they click on the stone floors and make you feel like a little tap dancer. And they have bats printed on the sides in white, which makes you happy.

You run into the hallway, letting the golden door to your room close behind you.

This castle used to confuse you, with all its winding hallways and grand staircases. You would get lost whenever Mommy wasn’t holding your hand, and one of your sisters would find you and drag you back to your room. They didn’t like you very much at first, but they’ve gotten nicer. Daniela reads to you sometimes, and Bela plays pretend when you ask her. Cassandra is… Cassandra, and she tries to feed you lots of nasty things, but she also likes to do your makeup. So she’s okay.

The four of you cuddle sometimes, when Mommy’s away and the castle is a little chilly. They like your body heat, and you like the contact.

Through the years, you’ve gotten comfortable both with your big sisters and with the castle itself. It’s second nature to dodge through the secret passage to the staircase into the main foyer, peering around for any of the other castle inhabitants. Mommy gave up on the servants again last week, so it’s just you and your family members right now. Unless you want to go down into the basement and play with the remains, who stumble and hiss and take care of the rats. They don’t attack you, only intruders, but they aren’t very much fun to play with.

“Mommy? Sisters?” you call out into the hall, tapping one foot against the ground.

For a few moments, there’s nothing. Then Mommy ducks through the door behind you, fully dressed with her lipstick on. Maybe she’s already been out today.

“Sweetheart?” Mommy rushes over and kneels on the stone floor to embrace you. “What are you doing out of your room?”

“Hungry,” you say. “Missed you.”

“I missed you too, little one.” Mommy draws back and puts both hands on your shoulders. She makes you feel so small. You almost wish you’d worn a onesie today. When you’re a baby, Mommy carries you everywhere and never lets you out of her arms. That sounds nice, especially when you missed her so much. “Listen to me, sweetheart.”

Mommy looks… serious. You blink and try to focus. What is that look in her eyes? It’s so unfamiliar. Could it be worry? No, Mommy doesn’t worry about anything.

“I need you to go back to your room and lock the door, okay? I’ll bring you food soon, but you need to stay there.” She isn’t blinking as she stares into your eyes. “Some prey has escaped. Your sisters will handle him swiftly, but he is armed. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

This isn’t the first time this has happened. Sometimes, Hunters come to the castle and try and hurt your family, and you have to wait in your room. They bring knives and guns, but they can’t hurt any of the others. You aren’t like your sisters, you’re fragile. So Mommy keeps you safe.

“I’ll carry you there, little one. And remember, don’t you leave.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

Mommy wraps her arms around you, and the ground drops away. Settled on her hip, you cling to her side. Mommy runs hot like you, not like your sisters. When you lay on her chest, you can hear her pulse, a rapid double-beat. Your sisters don’t have a heartbeat, but you can hear the fluttering wings that fill their chest if you hold your breath and listen closely.

You like Mommy’s warmth, and you like how strong her arms are around you. You can barely feel the rhythm of her steps as she drifts down the hallway towards your room.

“I’m a big girl today,” you tell her. She’s carrying you like a baby, but maybe she just missed you as much as you missed her. Or maybe she really is worried.

“I can tell! You got dressed all by yourself,” Mommy teases, wiggling a finger into the gap left by the buttons you couldn’t reach.

“Uh-huh!” You’re proud of the outfit you picked out. “Can we play outside soon?”

“Once the problem is taken care of, I would love to watch you play in the courtyard.” She rests her hand at your back, keeping you close. “Big girls need their fresh air, after all.”

“Thank you, Mommy.”

She sets you down all too soon, straightening them hem of your dress. “Here we are, darling. Don’t open the door for anyone other than your sisters, and protect yourself if you must.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.” Mommy presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, and then ushers you inside the bedroom. You turn in time to watch her close the door behind you, and you obediently turn the lock. Only Mommy’s key can open your room, like many others in the castle.

You flop onto your bed with a huff.

You got to see Mommy for the first time in days, but she’s busy with some stupid human who escaped from your sisters. You hate the stupid human who’s costing you time with Mommy, especially when she said you could play in the courtyard.

And you’re hungry! Mommy said she would bring you food, but you’re hungry now.

You kick your feet against the mattress. It’s a half-hearted tantrum, since no one is watching, but it makes you feel a little better.

Eventually, you hop off the bed and pace the room, your shoes going click click click on the stones.

It’s just one human, right? And you’re a big girl today. And it’s a big castle! He’s probably nowhere near the kitchen. You can run out, get some food, and then go right back to your room. Mommy will never know that you left.

You reluctantly retrieve your weapons from the top of the dresser, adding your belt of throwing knives on top of your dress. You aren’t supposed to use them when you’re little, but you’re not that little, and Mommy said to protect yourself if you needed to.

You take two of the knives in your hands, and try spinning them. It’s easy, body memory taking over. You toss one across the room, and it slices through the swirl of curtain you had been aiming at.

There, it’s settled. You’re a big girl and no manthing is going to scare you.

Nodding, you tuck the remaining knife back in its sheath, and turn your attention to the fireplace. It’s the fastest way to the kitchen from your room, and you’ve used it as a shortcut many times in the past. Your sisters don’t care if you get your dress dirty, they get blood and dirt on theirs all the time. So a little ash and grime is fine. (Mommy would disagree, but Mommy isn’t always around.)

You pour some water on the remaining embers from last night’s fire, and shuffle carefully into the fireplace. The wall at the back of the fireplace has crumbled away, revealing a passage that once needed to be triggered by pressing a certain brick. Now you can just crawl straight into it.

The rats like the passageways by the kitchen, and you brush past a few of them in the dark. Cassandra once trained a bunch of the castle rats to attack intruders, and you’ve had a fondness for the little friends ever since. They were scary in big groups, but just like everything else in Mommy’s castle, they would never hurt you.

You emerge into the kitchen, and stretch up to standing. As expected, your palms are covered in grime, and your skirt is heavy with soot and ash. You do your best to brush yourself off, and then start towards the sink to wash your hands, when a terrible screech fills the air.

“You stupid manthing!” you hear Bela scream from the next room.

Your headspace makes a quick shift into adulthood, startled to hear one of your sisters so distressed. Immediately, you run to the gate between the kitchen and the lower levels of the castle. Through the gate, you can see that one of the windows has been shattered. Dozens of your sister’s insects lie on the floor, unmoving, as she stumbles in the wind blowing through the broken glass.

“Bela!” you cry out, scrambling to open the gate. That’s when the first gunshot rings out, tearing through your sister’s shoulder. Her insects reform around it, but she cries out and you can tell that it hurt. As she stumbles to the left, you see the man standing behind her.

He’s covered in blood and grime, barely recognizable as human, but the stubble scattered across his cheeks marks him as prey to your family.

“Get away from my sister!” you scream, as the manthing shoots again at her. This shot hits her head, and insects scatter from the impact. Her face is gone for a moment, then reforms, her mouth wide open in rage.

Bela charges the stranger, her scythe held high.

You watch them struggle, and the man pushes her back into the frigid wind. He switches his attention to the windows, and breaks another one. You feel the winter air sweep inwards, and Bela wails.

“Bela, run!” You throw the gate open. “Get out of there!”

“He’s mine! My prey!” Bela hisses, advancing on the man again. Fear beats in your chest. You’ve never seen your sisters outmatched, but this man is too smart, and Bela is at a severe disadvantage in the room with broken windows. “How dare you bare your teeth at us!” She launches herself at the manthing again, and you watch his blood drip from your sister’s blade.

You’ve hunted with your sisters before. You’ve seen humans face death more times than you could count. You know how pain looks on their faces.

This man barely flinches as he pushes your sister back into the swirling snowflakes coming through the window. His face is set in a mask of determination, as he reloads his weapon and levels it again at Bela. This is no human like you’ve hunted before.

“Bela!” you scream, and throw one of your knives.

It sinks into the manthing’s thigh, and he hisses, pausing to pull it out and toss it aside. That brings your sister enough time to swoop towards him, but she’s moving more slowly in the cold air. The stranger manages to get his weapon back up before she can hit him, and fires straight into Bela’s face.

Both of you scream in unison, and you run forward into the room. The cold air prickles at your arms, but it doesn’t debilitate you the same way it does your sisters. You tug Bela backwards, as she writhes and hisses against your grip.

“Bela, find the others!” you yell. “Get out of here!”

The manthing seems to have finally picked you up as a threat. The next shot goes through your calf, and you lurch to the floor with a shout.

“How dare you!” Bela screeches, and throws herself again at the stranger.

You manage to get to your feet, and stumble towards the door. If you and Bela can get on the other side and then lock the manthing in the basement, Mother can deal with him without fear of the cold air or his stupid bullets. She is stronger than your sisters, stronger than anyone else.

Bela takes two more shots to her chest and begins retreating after you. You know that your sisters are unused to running from fights, but you don’t want to risk anything with this strange manthing who pulls knives out of his leg and tosses them aside without hesitation.

Another shot clips your shoulder, and your shaky grip on your adult headspace falls away. You topple to the ground, unable to stand the pain in your left leg.

You hear a scream, and it takes a moment to realize that it’s coming from you. You take your fear, your pain, and give it a voice. It echoes through the hallways.

“Mommy!”

The manthing seems to hesitate as your scream echoes around him.

You take the chance to throw another two knives. It’s a sloppy attempt, thrown haphazardly from the floor in pure self-defence. But they both strike true, one between his lower ribs and the other just above the mark from the first knife.

Red fluid seeps from him, dripping onto the tile.

He stumbles backwards, pulling a green bottle from his pocket and pouring its contents over his leg as he yanks the knife out. You watch as the blood is washed away, and the wounds close.

He came prepared.

“Ethan Winters!” a familiar voice snaps, and you almost collapse from pure relief. Mommy.

Mommy drifts in from the kitchen, ducking through the gated doorway and ushering Bela behind her. Bela is still snarling, but she’s clearly hurt, and allows her mother to push her back.

“You sneak into my house, you attack my daughters, youngest and eldest alike?”

The manthing fires his weapon again, directly into her chest, and you cover your ears against the noise. It echoes against the walls and although you know it can’t hurt Mommy, it scares you to see him try.

“You bring your filthy body to my property, you draw blood from my baby, and then you dare to raise your weapon to me?”

You haven’t seen Mommy this angry… ever. Her claws are extended, her back rigid as she faces down the man named Ethan Winters. Bela’s arms wrap around you and she drags you away from the fight. The movement jostles your wounded leg, and you cry out in spite of yourself, trying to twist out of Bela’s grasp.

Mommy looks back towards you. The man takes her lapse of attention as a chance to pull out a heavier gun, firing straight at her head.

It does nothing.

Mommy stands tall, in the face of bullets, in the swirling snow, and her claws flex as she looks down at the manthing in front of her.

Now, Ethan Winters looks scared. Now, Ethan Winters looks human.

“I would love to take my time and truly teach you a lesson,” Mommy purrs, reaching out to grab the manthing by the throat. “But my daughters need my attention, and I am… a doting mother. So I’m afraid this will have to be quick.”

Blood is all around you, in the Dimitrescu Castle. Big or small, old or young, you’re no stranger to violence.

You still find yourself covering your eyes as Mommy tears the strange man to shreds. You can hear her spitting out pieces of him, making sounds of disgust. His blood must not be good.

“Bela, come feed. You need the replenishment.”

Mommy drags what remains of the body into the kitchen, where Bela is safely resting, away from the cold air that fills the room where you sit.

You hear your sister begin to drink.

“Darling, are you alright?”

Mommy’s arms wrap around you, careful not to jostle your injuries.

Tearfully, you shake your head. You were scared, and Bela almost died. If you had stayed in your room and hidden like Mommy had said, you were sure that your sister would have been gone. You had almost both been killed, and if Mommy had been slower….

“M’sorry,” you sob, turning into the embrace. “I left.”

“And I’m very upset that you put yourself in danger, but I am not going to scold you right now. May I carry you to your room? You need medicine.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Mommy cradles you and carefully picks you up. Your dress is ruined, covered in grime and blood. You look over and see Bela crouched over a body. It’s suddenly easier to breathe once you see its face, blank and staring. The manthing doesn’t look special as a corpse. Just another dead human.  

You turn your face into Mommy’s chest, and she presses a hand to the back of your head, keeping you there. The smell of copper blood fades as she carries you out of the kitchen and down the hall to your room. Mommy doesn’t take the shortcuts like you and your sisters. They’re much too small and dirty for her.

That thought makes you laugh.

“Is my little one amused?” Mommy asks, petting your scalp with gloved fingers.

“Mmm, m’small and dirty,” you giggle.

“You are very small and very dirty. A bath is in order for both of us once your wounds are tended to.” That sounds like heaven to your exhausted mind.  

Mommy shoulders your door open, splintering the lock, and lays you on the bed. You whine as she moves away from you, reaching towards her.

“I’ll be back in a moment, darling. Are mama o fetiţă, cat un ghemotoc, are mama o fetiţă, cuminţică foc,” Mommy begins to sing as she makes her way around the room, gathering supplies. You relax, her voice reassuring you that she’s still nearby.

Soon, she’s back, sitting at the foot of your bed. There’s a bottle of first aid fluid in her hand, like the one the manthing used.

“This will sting, but it will help.” Mommy takes your foot in her hand, and carefully unbuckles your shoe. It looks tiny in her hand, like a doll’s shoe. Dropping it to the ground, she pulls down your stocking to reveal the wound in your calf.

You turn your face away, whining at the sight of the blood streaking your skin.

“Hush, darling.” You feel lips against the wound, a brief flare of pain as she presses against it. She makes a soft sound, and you look down to watch her lick your blood from her lips. “Don’t look,” Mommy tells you, and you close your eyes again.

Then she pours something on your leg, and everything is pain.

You twist in her grip, crying out, and she holds you down.

“I know, darling, I know. It will pass. I’m sorry.” More pain, this time radiating from your shoulder. You try to kick out, and she catches your feet. “I’ve got you. Breathe, little one. It will pass.”

And sure enough, after what feels like an eternity, the pain begins to lift. You can feel your fingers again, and your toes. Your body is more than a twisting line of agony. The ache becomes gentler, and eventually it lifts all together.

You lie on the bed, feeling the tears streaking your face, and you hear Mommy sigh in relief.

“There, all done.”

She gathers you onto her lap, and you lie passively in her arms, too exhausted to do anything else.

“My brave girl,” she praises, kissing your forehead. “My brave, brave daughter. I’m so proud of you. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”

“M’sorry.” You know she was worried about you. You can still hear it in her voice.

“No, darling, I’m sorry. I should have found him and… well. He shouldn’t have been able to hurt you. It won’t happen again, I promise.” Mommy rocks you back and forth, gently, and you can tell that your body has been healed. There is no pain in your leg, no pain in your shoulder. “I promise.”

“Love you.” There are so many things you want to say, but you’re tired and little and you just want to take a bath with Mommy and have a bottle and fall asleep in her arms.

“I love you more.”

She holds you tight, close enough that you can hear the doubled, inhuman heartbeat thrumming in her chest. Close enough that you can feel the unnatural heat of her skin. Close enough that you feel at home.

--

A/N: The song that Alcina sings is in Romanian, but I think it’s a translation of an English song. If anyone knows a traditional Romanian lullaby, I’d be happy to replace it. The lyrics translate as

“Mommy has a little girl, as small as a ball of fur Mommy has a little girl, and she’s a very good girl.”  

I do have a fluffier, lighter sequel to this story planned, so let me know if you’d like to read it!

[sisterspooky1013]

Nuptiae Sub Rosa, Chapter 13

Rated Explicit / Read it here on AO3

“Back again so soon?” asks the woman at the front desk of the hotel with feigned enthusiasm.

“We weren’t able to fly out due to the weather. Any chance you still have rooms available?” Scully asks hopefully.

“Like I said when that cow fell on your boyfriend’s room, we’re all full because of the reunion. The room you checked out of earlier is still open, though. Haven’t even cleaned it yet.”

“He’s not...fine. We’ll take it.”

They get settled back in the room, the wet towels from their showers that morning still piled on the floor of the bathroom. Scully sighs heavily, digging through her bag in search of pajamas.

“Not all is lost, Scully,” Mulder says with a cheerful tone, pulling a tall amber bottle out of his bag, “I pilfered this from the reunion.”

“Mystery tequila? Are you really gonna drink that?” she asks dubiously, locating cotton shorts and a T shirt.

“Yes we are,” he answers, setting the bottle on the dresser while he loosens his tie. “It’s alcohol, Scully. It’s self-sanitizing.”

“Is that how that works?” she retorts, keeping her eyes on his face as he shucks off his dress shirt and pulls his undershirt over his head.

He looks at her for a moment, as though considering something, and then starts unbuttoning his slacks. She makes a face at his brazenness and walks past him into the bathroom to change.

***

“Did you ever go to your reunion? The ten year, I guess?” Mulder asks from his spot slouched down in the armchair, head resting on its back while his feet are propped on the bed.

Scully is lying across the middle of the mattress, facing him with her head propped up on her hand.

“No, I don’t think I was tracked down with an invitation, not that I’d have gone if I’d gotten one,” she replies with a thick tongue.

He lifts his head to look at her all stretched out and bare legged, cheeks pink from the tequila and her makeup mostly worn away. She looks beautiful like this, casual and unrefined. This is how he likes his Scully best.

“What were you like in high school, Scully?” he asks, hoping desperately that she’ll play along.

She lifts her eyebrows. “What do you think?” she asks flatly, and he knows what she’s getting at.

“Once a nerd, always a nerd?” he guesses, and she nods with a shrug. “Did you date?”

She screws up her mouth before answering. “...no,” she finally says, but he can tell she’s withholding something.

“What does that mean?” he asks with a grin, and she can’t contain the smile that stretches across her mouth, lubricated by alcohol.

“I mean...define date,” she says, avoiding eye contact.

“Ahhh,” he says knowingly, “I’m pickin’ up what you’re puttin’ down. What they say about Catholic girls is true then?”

He barely gets the sentence out before a pillow comes flying at his head. He catches it mid-air, then stands and flops onto the bed next to her on his back, stuffing the pillow under his head.

“What were you like in high school, Mulder?” she asks, her eyes dancing over his profile.

He turns his head to look at her. “Well, being a nerd was kind of cool in my neck of the woods, so that wasn’t an issue. I didn’t have a lot of friends, but I did “date” quite a bit,” he says, using air quotes for emphasis. “Apparently having a tragic story about your kid sister being abducted is attractive to seventeen year old girls.”

“I think that may extend beyond seventeen year old girls,” she retorts, and he makes an exaggerated face of shock.

“What are you saying, Agent Scully? You find my trauma attractive?”

“Not your trauma, no,” she answers, keeping her tone light and playful.

He rolls onto his side to face her, the pillow wedged under his armpit as a prop.

“So, tell me more about the scandals of high school Dana Scully,” he requests eagerly.

“Mulder, no,” she replies with a somber shake of her head, but a smirk on her lips.

“Come on,” he goads, poking his index finger into her hip, “I won’t judge you if you slept with half the football team.”

“Okay, I did NOT sleep with anyone on the football team, to be clear, but I will need another drink before I can tolerate this line of questioning,” she says, sitting up and retrieving the bottle of tequila.

She returns to sit cross-legged beside him, her knees almost touching his belly. They take alternating swigs off the bottle, grimacing as they pass it back and forth.

***

“IN the science lab? Like out in the open in the classroom?” he asks incredulously, and she waves her hands dismissively in front of her.

“No, no. It wasn’t as exposed as it sounds. For one, the lights were off, and for three, we were behind one of the...the counter things. No one would have seen anything if they hadn’t come into the room.”

“But they did,” he encourages her to continue.

“They did, and they turned the lights on but I was too...focused on the task at hand, and I didn’t realize it right away. And this guy, Andrew, he was tapping on the top of my head.” She reaches over and taps her fingers rapidly on the top of Mulder’s skull, “and I just thought he was...you know, touching my head, so I kept swatting his hand away.” She starts giggling, covering her face with one hand as she continues. “And he’s saying ‘Dana, Dana, stop,’ and...” She’s laughing so hard that she can’t catch her breath, and he watches her with a huge grin on his face as she wipes tears from the corners of her eyes. “And I lifted my head and said...” She falls to her side on the bed, wheezing with laughter. “I said… ‘do you want a blow job or not, Andrew?’ And I look up and my science teacher is standing there…” she covers her face with both her hands, her entire body shaking as she’s overcome with hysterical laughter. “And she’s a nun, of course,” she eeks out.

She can’t talk anymore, and just lets it overtake her as he watches on with delight, never having seen her like this before. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life. She clutches her sides and laughs so hard she stops making noise, silently shuddering. Eventually, she calms down enough to draw in a deep breath. She is now on her back next to him, while he’s still on his side.

“Did you get in trouble?” he asks.

She speaks with her eyes on the ceiling, a far away smile on her mouth.

“Nope,” she answers, “I begged Sister Mary Xavier not to tell my father, and she agreed after I said I’d sign up to tutor some freshmen and spend about ten hours in the confessional.”

“That’s quite the story, Scully. I wouldn’t have guessed that you were so… adventurous,” he says cautiously, not wanting to offend her.

“Well, there’s something to be said for being young and stupid,” she counters. “And while Sister Mary Xavier kept her mouth shut, Andrew most certainly did not. Having a reputation wasn’t something I enjoyed, so I made different choices after that experience.”

He nods knowingly. “Having a reputation is certainly something I can empathize with.”

“Yes, I know,” she replies with a playful tone, “I’ve heard about it in the ladies room.” She’s still looking at the ceiling.

He waits for her to elaborate, and when she doesn’t say anything he brushes his hand over her forearm. She turns her head to look at him with expectant eyebrows.

“What have you heard, exactly?” he questions, knowing full well that a few stories got around in the early nineties, but not realizing Scully had heard any of them.

“Oh, just that you’ve slept with every AD’s secretary and half the new recruits,” she says plainly.

“That’s not even remotely true,” he defends.

“Never said it was. I don’t hear that as much these days, that was mostly early in our partnership. Now I just overhear rumors about us when they don’t realize I’m in the bathroom. And every now and then the more brazen agents will flat out ask me if you’re any good in bed.”

Her tone is measured, factual. Meanwhile, he feels his cock stir a little at the mention of them having sex.

“Was that before or after you were qualified to answer the question?” he asks carefully, unsure if she’ll bristle at the acknowledgement of their sexual relationship, which they never discuss.

She runs her tongue over her bottom lip and blinks once.

“Both,” she finally answers.

“And what did you say?” His heart is thrumming steadily, his head buzzing with tequila. He’s never wanted her to answer one of his unnecessary questions more in his life.

She furrows her eyebrows and gives him a doubtful look.

“I didn’t dignify the question with a response,” she says as if it’s the obvious answer. “Usually I just ignore them and leave.”

He decides to just go for it. They're both tipsy, so he can blame his blatant boundary crossing on the booze.

“What would you say if you did answer the question?”

A slow smile blooms on her mouth, finishing in a wide, toothy grin, her glassy eyes nearly closing.

“Are you asking me if you’re good in bed, Mulder?” Far from offended, she seems to be absolutely delighted by the question.

He feels his cheeks warm, insecurity softening his formerly growing erection. He can’t bring himself to answer, so he rolls onto his back, clasping his hands over his stomach.

“I would think the answer to that is fairly obvious,” she says beside him, and he turns his head so he can see her face. She’s not mocking him.

“How’s that?”

“Well...I certainly didn’t fake it,” she says, and now she’s just a little bit self-conscious as well. At least they’re on level ground.

He smiles at her and she returns it. “Glad to hear it.”

“I’m sorry I can’t make any positive contributions to your reputation, but I have my own to watch out for,” she offers, and he nods in acceptance.

She rolls to her side so that the front of her torso is tucked against the side of his. The contact sends a little jolt down his body and he’s suddenly very aware that he won’t be able to hide if he gets hard. He’s not entirely sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. She rests her palm on his chest, propping herself up with her elbow.

“So the secretaries...how much truth is there to that?” she asks, now that they’ve crossed the boundary anyway.

“Not much. When I was a new recruit I didn’t have the greatest professional boundaries, but nothing like that has happened since at least...ninety one, Maybe? Long time ago. I have no idea how the rumor has survived this long.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s just a bit of wishful thinking,” she says with a smirk.

He understands what she’s saying, but he can’t resist trying to get her to say it more explicitly.

“What do you mean?” he asks with feigned ignorance.

“I mean,” she answers, sliding her hand down from his chest to his stomach, stopping when her hand meets with his own, which are still resting on his belly. “That they want to believe the rumors are true, because that might mean they have a chance.”

“A chance at what?”

She looks at him, and the expression on her face is familiar in a way that sends blood rushing to his cock. She leans down and presses her mouth to his, sliding her tongue against his bottom lip. Without breaking the kiss, she lifts away enough to speak.

“You’re a very handsome man, Mulder.”

He brings one hand to the back of her head, deepening the kiss and lapping at her tongue. She leans hard into him, draping her leg over his, and suddenly her hand on his belly is grabbing at his hardening dick over his sweatpants. He hums loudly, arching his pelvis towards her. She hitches her leg over his hip and slides up so that she’s straddling him, continuing their kisses while she grinds against his lap. They kiss sloppily and rub against each other like horny teenagers for a while, and then she starts shimmying lower and lower, until finally she’s too far from his face for their lips to connect. He opens his eyes and looks at her, confusion furrowing his brow.

When she hooks her fingers under the waistband of his sweats and starts tugging, he gulps. She moves quickly, either because she’s eager or she’s afraid she’ll change her mind, he doesn’t know. But then she glances up at him briefly and wraps her lips around the head of his cock, and his eyes close as his head drops back onto the bed. He feels like he’s on another planet, the warm slip of her mouth up and down his shaft better than any blow job he can ever remember getting. Is it because she’s better at it, or just because it’s her? He doesn’t know and he doesn’t care. When her small hand cups his balls and squeezes, he’s suddenly so close it’s nearly inevitable.

“Jesus, if you keep doing that I’m gonna come,” he warns her, and the hum that vibrates in her throat feels too good; he can’t hold back anymore.

He tries to pull away, or push her away, but she grips his hips and moves faster. He sits right on the edge for a long time, and it feels so fucking good he thinks he might pass out. Finally he’s coming, a low moan escaping his throat, and he chances a look down at her. She’s got her eyes on him, maybe has the whole time, and they hold eye contact as he spurts down her throat. When he’s spent, he drops his head back again, his chest heaving.

She crawls up to lay beside him on her stomach, looking at her hands as she picks at her fingernails. He’s afraid she might be embarrassed or regret having done it. He tugs his pants back over his hips and rolls to his side to face her. Putting one hand on the hip that is further from him, he pulls her onto her side so that her back is pressed against his chest.

“Just so you know,” he says as he slides his hand down her belly and slips it under the waistband of her shorts, “if anyone asks me in the men’s room if you’re any good at giving head, I might not be able to resist responding in the affirmative.”

She laughs softly and moves her leg aside, allowing him access to touch her. His eyes go big when he feels how wet she is, practically dripping.

“This is from...doing that? To me?” he asks, cursing refractory periods for existing and preventing him from getting hard again.

She sighs as he slides his finger over her slick lips, looping around her clit but not touching it.

“You know what they say,” she answers breathily, “‘Tis better to give than to receive.” Her breath hitches as he makes one pass over her swollen bud.

“Mmmhmm,” he agrees, bringing his lips to her neck and pushing his middle finger inside.

She arches into him, her ass pressing against his spent dick something he can’t resist pushing back against. He reaches deep, dragging his finger against her front wall and pressing the heel of his hand firmly against her clit. He watches with fascination as she slips her hand under her shirt and pinches at her nipples, only now realizing that they’ve left the lights on through all of this. Her breath is quickening, her little whimpers growing increasingly frantic until she suddenly freezes, mouth hanging open. She stays still for a moment, and then one long, soft moan escapes her lips and he feels her grip tight around his finger before she collapses in a series of throbs, each growing a bit weaker than the last. He continues to stroke her insides, only stopping when she touches his arm and says “enough.”

Withdrawing his hand from her shorts, he stands and flips the lights off, then returns to the bed where she’s scooted up to lay on the pillows. He resumes his position spooned up behind her, draping his arm over her waist and pulling her tightly against his chest. He places a soft kiss to her cheek and she sighs.

“Night, Scully,” he says in a near whisper, then closes his eyes.

He’s just about to drift off when she speaks.

“Sheila asked me if we’d ever kissed,” she says suddenly, and he works to orient himself to the statement.

“Oh? What did you say?” he asks.

“I said no.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I guess it just feels too...private. Like it’s just for us to know.”

He nods in the dark, because he understands. He wasn’t honest with Holman either, though he hadn’t given much consideration to why. He gives her a squeeze, and she threads her fingers through his where they rest on her belly.

“Good night, Mulder.”

———

“Slow down there, speed racer,” he says as he jogs down the hall to catch up to her. “You’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

“I’m walking down a hall, Mulder, not running a marathon,” she retorts with just a bit of irritation. She knows he’s probably right.

They arrive in front of her apartment door and she digs around for her keys, wincing as she twists in just the wrong way and it pulls at her wound.

“I got it,” he says with a worried look, pulling out his own keys and fitting the one for her apartment into the lock.

She makes her way slowly inside, the familiar smell of her apartment after an extended absence greeting her. That kind of smell, the one that can almost make you feel like an intruder, is one she encounters so often it’s become just another flavor of home. She knows that the ten days she spent in the hospital are short for an abdominal gunshot wound, and tries to be grateful for her inexplicably speedy recovery instead of irritated over the souring takeout she’ll need to toss from the refrigerator.

“I changed your sheets, if you’d like to rest for a bit,” Mulder says as he carries her bag into the bedroom. “They aren’t exactly hospital corners but I did my best.”

She follows him into her room, watching as he opens the bag and removes her toiletry kit, returning it to the bathroom before he dumps her dirty clothes into the hamper. It feels oddly domestic, but pleasantly so.

“I’m not tired,” she says as she makes her way gingerly to the kitchen, bracing her hand against the counter while she pulls the refrigerator door open to lessen the engagement of her core muscles.

Expecting to see the leftover Indian food and wilting lettuce she knows she left there, she instead finds new groceries; yogurt, strawberries, bagels and cream cheese. The real stuff, not even the low fat version that she normally subjects herself to. She closes the fridge and looks over at Mulder, who’s carrying the laundry basket to the closet and starting a load of wash. She feels a little swell of affection at his fussing, something she’d normally find overbearing and infantilizing.

“You hungry?” he asks as he emerges from the hallway, and she shakes her head with a soft smile.

She walks to the couch and he makes it to her in three long strides, holding out his hands to help her sit, knowing that changing positions is still quite painful.

“Do you want to lie down?”

“Nah, too hard to get back up,” she says good naturedly, and he sits down carefully beside her, moving his arm to the back of the couch when she leans into him.

She rests her hand palm-up on his thigh, and he threads his fingers through hers. They sit in comfortable silence for a bit, lazily stroking thumbs over thumbs, brushing pinkies along index fingers. The casual contact is a comfort that’s become routine as of late.

“I never got a chance to ask you how it was having a different partner,” he says as he runs the pad of his index finger over the tip of each of her fingernails one by one.

She smiles to herself, knowing he can’t see her face. He’s seeking reassurance, and she’s more than willing to give it.

“It was strange, and frustrating most of the time. It was clear that he didn’t trust me, and I certainly didn’t trust him. I suppose it just reinforced for me how much I trust you, and I probably take that for granted too often.”

She doesn’t need to see his face, because she can feel his smile radiate through his whole body.

“Right back atcha, sister,” he says, draping his arm over her shoulder to give her a little squeeze. “You didn’t teach him our secret handshake, did you?” he adds with feigned concern.

“Of course not,” she insists, “it’s far too complex for such a feeble mind.”

They are quiet for a moment, and she lets herself relax into the warm comfort of his shoulder under her cheek.

“Trust aside,” she begins again, “I think I’d prefer a partner who doesn’t shoot me, should I be forced to work with anyone else again in the future. I’ll have to put that request in to Kersh.”

“I don’t know,” he replies, turning his head to press his nose into her hair, “sometimes partners who shoot you are the best partners in the world.”

Tagging @today-in-fic

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

no grave can hold my body down – 1/2

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: It took time to get Jason Todd away from the darkness. Sometimes it felt like he was always standing at a tipping point, at risk of completely losing himself. But not when he was with her. She made him better and she would continue to make him better. 

Word Count: 5,500 

A/N: I am very new to this fandom and extremely nervous to write something for it. To clarify, I have not read any of the comics. But I’ve watched a lot of the TV and movie adaptations, and have done a lot of research. Jason is much older in this – like 30? – and therefore the rest of the BatFam is older, as well. But this takes place after Jason Todd is resurrected, but is still on rocky territory with his family. 

Jason dropped down to the fire escape of his apartment with a quietness that seemed impossible for how large he was. 

On the other side of the small fire escape, Y/N sat with a blanket over her lap, a book in her hand, and a mug of coffee balanced perfectly on the metal grates. 

“Thought I told you not to wait up for me,” Jason greeted, knowing she noticed his arrival, but just kept reading her book. His book, to be precise. 

It was almost 4AM and Jason had called it a night after taking out an entire drug cartel. It had been a lot of waiting, until it finally led up to 20 minutes of utter chaos. He left them on a silver platter for the police to arrest them and actually clean up the mess.

Y/N finally looked up at him and he saw how tired her eyes seemed. But she gave him a soft smile, clearly happy to see him home and...alive. 

A pang of guilt went through him. He did that to her. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” she told him with a shrug. 

Jason slowly nodded. Then he nudged his head towards the book, “Jane Eyre again?”

She smirked. “It’s a comfort read.” 

He smiled back at her – which she couldn’t even see, because he was still wearing the red helmet that covered his entire head. 

“You shouldn’t stay out here so long. It’s too cold.”

“I was waiting for you,” she countered. 

“I thought you couldn’t sleep.”

“I couldn’t…because I was worried about you,” she finally admitted. 

There it was. 

“You have a voicemail on your cellphone. Alfred called,” she quickly added to change the subject.  

Jason left his personal cellphone at home when he was on patrol, not wanting any sort of pointless distractions. Y/N had a direct line to his comms if there was an emergency, which was the only thing he cared about. His old family could figure out ways to contact him if they really wanted to. But he didn’t go out of his way to give them that info. 

“Get inside before you catch a cold,” he told her as he nodded toward the open window. 

She chuckled at his attempt to sound stern. It was hard for her to take it seriously. But she listened to him anyway, knowing that if she tried to ignore him, it would end in him dragging her inside. And that was not a physical battle she ever had a chance at winning. 

30 minutes later, Y/N was laying in bed and still reading her book as Jason tried to erase the night. 

He always took long, scolding showers after patrol. Even if there was no blood to be washed away, there was always a need to cleanse himself of…something. 

Y/N had asked him if he was hurt as she crawled through the window back inside their apartment.

“I’m fine,” he’d insisted. 

But she knew “fine” just meant he didn’t need stitches, or bones reset, or the need to call the actual doctor he had a certain under-the-table deal with. She also knew she shouldn’t be surprised when he took off his clothes and she would see new bruises and shallow cuts covering his skin. 

Jason finally crawled into bed with nothing but his black briefs. His hair still wet from the burning shower he just took. 

He let out a sigh and stared up at the ceiling. 

It was always a battle for Y/N, trying to figure out when to leave Jason to his thoughts and when to force him to talk. She knew he couldn’t drown himself in his own mind. But she also knew she couldn’t pretend to be his therapist. 

“J?” She asked him softly as she put her book down. 

“Hmm?” He asked, looking at her. 

“You OK?”

He nodded. 

She let it be. 

Jason turned his gaze back to the ceiling. “Alfred has a foundation to raise money for under-funded schools in Gotham. It’s all him, but it has Bruce’s name all over it so all the rich assholes will want to save face with the Wayne family by donating.”

“I can support that type of manipulation,” Y/N said with a smirk. 

“He holds a gala at Wayne Manor for it every year. Gets them at least a mil every time.”

She listened closely. 

Then Jason looked at her again. “He asked me to come this year.”

“Oh,” her face fell. 

Jason had told Y/N about his tumultuous relationship with his family. While he mended most of the damage with his brothers, he wasn’t quite willing to do so with Bruce. Y/N didn’t try to push Jason to reconcile with his adoptive father. She understood his heartbreak and frustrations there. She wasn’t a huge fan of Bruce herself after learning the damage he’d done to her boyfriend. 

But it was because of the past traumas that Y/N hadn’t met any of Jason’s hodgepodge, vigilante family. 

She also guessed that it was his overprotectiveness of her that stopped him from wanting to fully submerge her in that part of his life. To Jason, the less she knew about the Bat Family, the safer she was. 

“He asked me to bring you, too.” Jason suddenly added. 

Y/N blinked. “I…I didn’t realize they knew about me.”

He smirked at that. “Of course they do.”

“Even Bruce?” 

His smirk disappeared. “Well, I didn’t tell him. But he’s a nosey son of a bitch. And even if he didn’t figure it out for himself, one of my brothers probably ran their mouth.”

Y/N didn’t think Jason and Bruce had a conversation out of uniform since he became the Red Hood. Probably hadn’t even addressed each other by their actual names in years. 

Y/N fully turned on her side to face her boyfriend and scooted closer. “What do you want to do?” She asked carefully. 

Jason sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Then he too turned on his side and stole a look at her. She looked so tired, but still beautiful. He knew he put her through too much. He didn’t deserve her. And she deserved a better man than he could ever be. He had guilt on his conscience, blood on his hands. He was the poster child for the harshness that was Gotham. She was a normal woman who would’ve never gotten mixed up in this world if it weren’t for him. 

But Y/N insisted that she wanted to be here. Told him so by just staying each and every day, and never questioning her decision. Even left New York City to slum it in Gotham with him. 

Jason brushed some hair away from her face. 

“You’d come with me?”

Her face scrunched from him even feeling the need to ask. “Of course.” Then she gave him a sad look, “I’ve been wanting to meet your family for awhile.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked. 

Her eyes darkened. “You know why, J.” 

He stayed silent. 

“Listen, I know things haven’t been…good with your family. But I also know that they raised you. Whether you want to admit it or not, a lot of the man you are today is because of them. And I happen to love that man. So, yeah, I’ve wanted to meet them.” 

Jason had a look full of love that he was trying to contain. “Come here,” he demanded with a grin. 

Y/N giggled and moved into his arms. 

Jason immediately pivoted her body so she was hovering over him. Without any hesitation, he pulled her down for a kiss. 

“It’s gonna be filled with rich snobs and ass kissers. Don’t go hoping for a fun time,” he warned her as he narrowed his gaze playfully. 

“Then you’re really gonna need me there. Who else is gonna make fun of them with you?” She teased. 

Then a thought suddenly occurred to her. “Will this be a fancy affair?”

“Unfortunately.”

Her gaze darkened. “So, I’m gonna see you in a suit, huh?”

Jason pinched her sides. 

Y/N yelped before laughing, “Do you even own a suit? I’ve never seen it in your closet.”

Suddenly he flipped her body so he was now the one hovering over her. Y/N couldn’t ignore Jason’s massive size when she was caged below him like that.  “You’re on thin ice, kid.” 

“Oooh. I’m so scared,” she mocked. 

Jason almost looked offended.

But he sighed, getting back to the previous subject. “If I have to wear a suit, that means you have to wear a dress.”

“Or I could wear a suit, too.” She countered and raised a brow at him. 

He smirked at her challenge. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in one either.” 

That seemed to please her. 

“I promise I’ll look real pretty. Ya know, really play the part of the arm candy for the famous Jason Todd.” 

Jason scoffed. “You’re always beautiful.” Then his gaze darkened. “And the arm candy was always Bruce and Dick’s thing. Not mine.”

“OK. So what should I be?” 

“My accomplice,” Jason confirmed. 

——————————————————

Y/N fidgeted in the back seat of the car as the black car drove to the outskirts of Gotham and to the Wayne Estate. 

Jason had sent her a text from his patrol comms about something coming up. Vague, as always. He did it to keep her in the dark as much as possible. 

Apparently he’d tried to tell Alfred they couldn’t make it. But the old man wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily. He told Jason he’d send a car for Y/N and that he better show up too. 

Y/N had worn her fanciest dress, curled her hair, and done her makeup to perfection. She knew she could dress the part, but it was the acting bit that had her stressed out. 

Despite Jason’s relationship with his family, she still dreaded the thought that they wouldn’t like her and that they wouldn’t approve. Yeah, they were secretly vigilantes, but they were also the richest people in Gotham. 

Y/N swallowed as the car parked right outside the front entrance of Wayne Manor. There seemed to already be hundreds of people there. Everyone looked rich and fancier than Y/N could ever even pretend to be. 

‘You’re here for Jason. You’re here for Jason.’ She repeated in her mind as the driver opened the door for her and offered his hand.

Y/N told herself to become a character as she held her head high and made her way into the mansion. 

“Mansion” didn’t even seem to cover it. Y/N felt like she was in a Jane Austen novel or Downton Abbey. 

Guests eyed her as soon as she made her way inside. She was much younger than the general demographic of the party. It seemed that old money also meant literally old. 

She did a once over to see if she could find Jason. But he was nowhere to be found. Y/N decided she needed a drink to face a gala full of unwelcoming strangers alone. 

She ignored the curious and judgmental gazes as she made her way to one of the many bars set up through the home. 

‘Maybe red was too much,’ her imposter syndrome was telling her. Clearly it was making her stick out. But she knew Jason loved seeing her in red. 

Y/N quickly ordered a strong drink from the bartender, who was kind enough to sense that this young woman needed liquid courage and she needed it fast. 

“Are you sure you meant to use that bottle?” A male voice came up beside her, speaking to the bartender on her behalf. 

Y/N turned to see a very boyishly handsome man with blue eyes and brown hair so dark that it was almost black. 

He gave that bartender a look and Y/N watched as he nervously grabbed the much more expensive brand – the one Y/N would never in her life buy for herself. 

“Thank you,” Y/N said as politely as possible when the bartender slid the drink towards her. 

Then she turned her attention to the young man. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

He gave her a crooked smirk. “You deserve the very best.”

Y/N might not have ever met Jason’s brothers. But they were famous enough to make frequent appearances in the media. Everyone in Gotham knew what the Wayne kids looked like. Especially Dick Grayson, who seemed to thrive in the spotlight in a similar manner to his father. 

“Oh? And how do you know what I deserve? You don’t know me at all,” Y/N challenged with a tilt of her head. 

Her sass seemed to excite him. 

“Well, I was hoping, since I saved you from the cheap stuff, that you’d give me a chance to.” 

Y/N shook her head with an almost baffled smile. This faux charm and air of confidence was so unlike Jason’s. While Jason was quietly confident and sure of himself. It came almost from a place of nihilism. But Dick…Dick had an edge of haughtiness and self importance. 

“Your reputation precedes you, Dick Grayson,” Y/N cooed, with mischievous glint in her gaze, before taking a sip of her drink. He was right: this was the good stuff. 

Dick’s amusement seemed to falter now that she confessed to knowing exactly who he was. “And what reputation is that exactly?”

“Cocky, charming…flirtatious.”

Dick didn’t seem to mind these adjectives at all. In fact, he seemed rather proud of himself. He stepped a little closer to her. “It feels a little unfair that you seem to know me, but I haven’t even gotten your name.” 

Y/N tried to suppress her smile. She was really starting to enjoy this little game. “You’ll realize soon enough.” 

“Well, until then…” He stepped even closer and somehow managed to put his hand on her back without it feeling creepy. “Would you like to dance?” 

“Move that hand any lower, Dick, and I’ll fuckin’ break it,” Jason said from behind Y/N. 

Dick barely moved away from Y/N, but looked at his brother with confusion. 

Y/N turned and maneuvered her body away from Dick’s grasp. 

Then she smiled at Jason as she took in the sight of her boyfriend wearing a suit. Like, a real suit, not one made for a vigilante. He managed to tame his hair without using too much product. And his face had its signature scruff but cleaned up a bit. 

“How long has this one been annoying you?” Jason asked her. 

“Not long,” she replied before giving him a sweet kiss. 

Y/N turned to face Dick again, but remained close to Jason’s side. On instinct alone, Jason placed his hand on her back and pulled her even closer. It wasn’t possessive, but a habit he formed to comfort himself.

Dick blinked as his mind clearly figured out the change in situation. 

“You’re Y/N?” He asked her. 

She smirked. “Told you that you’d realize it soon enough.” 

“Dick, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is, Dick Grayson.”

Y/N didn’t miss how Jason didn’t refer to Dick as his brother. 

To his credit, Dick recovered rather quickly and politely offered his hand. Y/N didn’t hesitate to shake it. After all, she still wanted to make a good impression on his family. And the flirting was harmless. 

“I apologize for…” Dick’s words died out. 

“Hitting on me?” Y/N offered with a laugh. “I would say I’m flattered, but I’m sure I’m one of many women you will be making moves on tonight.” 

“Do it again, and I’ll swap out the rubber bullets in my guns, Dick.” Jason half warned and half joked. 

Dick seemed unfazed by the threat. “Why don’t you say it a little louder so more people can hear?”

Jason ignored his brother’s warning. 

He turned his gaze down to Y/N. “Let’s go introduce you to Alfred.”

Jason held her hand as he made his way through the crowd. It wasn’t hard to do. Y/N assumed it had to do with him technically being a Wayne or perhaps it was his large and imposing frame that told people to get the hell out of his way. 

Then Y/N was standing in front of an elderly man who had perfect posture and mischievous edge to his welcoming smile. 

“Master Jason, I see that you have finally brought Ms. Y/L/N for me to meet,” Alfred said with a smile. 

Out of all his siblings and father, Alfred seemed to be the only family member that Jason didn’t hold any sort of grudge against. Though Y/N wasn’t really sure what anyone would have against him. From everything she heard, he sounded absolutely lovely. 

He held out his hand, which Y/N instantly went to shake. But instead, Alfred brought her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles. There was something about this family that made everything they do seem charming rather than creepy and uncomfortable.

Y/N laughed at the gesture. “It’s so nice to meet you, Alfred. I’ve heard so much about you.” 

He patted her hand before letting it go gently. “I wish I could say the same for you, dear. But it would appear Master Jason prefers to keep you entirely to himself.” 

She just gave him a polite – yet controlled – smile. Another side effect of Jason being overprotective of her. 

“Thank you for sending the car for me. You didn’t have to do that,” she told him. 

“Oh, nonsense. I would not allow this one to use any excuse for missing tonight.”

Y/N asked him about his foundation with genuine interest. Alfred answered all of her questions with enthusiasm. She wondered how often Alfred got to talk about normal things with the Wayne family. She could only imagine the manor was entirely consumed with matters of vigilantism. 

Alfred also asked Y/N far more questions about herself than she was prepared for. It made her realize that Jason really did keep her quite the secret. Y/N knew she shouldn’t be offended by it, but it made her sad that Jason’s family had clearly shown such an interest in her. Had she known, she may have put more pressure on Jason to introduce her. 

There was a lull in conversation when Alfred’s gaze turned to Jason. 

“Have you spoken with him yet?” He asked evenly. 

They all know who ‘him’ was. 

“I’m here for you, Alfred.” Jason quickly answered. “And we’ve kept you selfishly to ourselves for far too long. I’m sure everyone here wants to talk with you.”

Nice save.

Alfred dipped his head and lowered his voice, “Oh, you are two of the few people here whom I actually wish to converse with…” He finished with a wink before leaving them. 

“And here I thought you got all your charm from Bruce Wayne,” Y/N teased her boyfriend. 

But when she looked up at Jason, he had a dazed looked in his eyes. 

“Hey,” she squeezed his hand in comfort. “You don’t need to talk to him if you don’t want to. In fact, we can go now if you want.”

Jason snapped out of it then. “And leave without destroying this open bar? Absolutely not.” Then he seemed to take her in for the first time that night. “Plus, you deserve to be shown off.”

He leaned down to her ear. “I was so distracted with saving you from Dick that I didn’t get the chance to tell you how beautiful you looked tonight.” 

No matter how many times he said things like that to her or made her feel this way, she still managed to blush at such compliments. 

And for good measure, Jason sealed the praise with a kiss, lightly gripping her chin to make sure she didn’t escape too soon for his liking. 

He barely pulled away from her lips when he smiled and muttered, “Come on. Let’s go steal ourselves a bottle of Dom Pérignon.” 

“Jason,” she scolded in a whisper, “Those cost like $2,000!”

“Exactly.” 

The next hour or so was filled with Jason and Y/N drinking champagne while standing in a corner that protected them from being interrupted. And Y/N did exactly as she promised: joking with Jason about all the stuck up rich people that just came to kiss ass and social climb. 

They were laughing about an old man that was desperately trying to hit on a young woman half his age when someone politely cleared their throat beside them.

But Jason smiled at the interruption. 

A young man, who couldn’t be older than his early 20s, was giving Y/N a delighted smile. However, the first thing she noticed were the shadows under his eyes and how tired he looked. But that didn’t stop his excitement from showing. 

“Y/N, this is my younger brother, Tim Drake. Tim, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

With a dorky enthusiasm, he shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. We’ve all been annoying Jason about bringing you around for quite some time.”

She smiled, “So I’ve heard…” Then she gave Jason a subtle accusatory look.

Tim’s face turned serious, as if he just remembered why he came over in the first place. “I’m sorry to interrupt. Jason would you mind…umm…looking at something for me real quick?”

Jason’s back straightened. 

Tim was trying to be polite to the two’s relationship by keeping out any and all details pertaining to their night life. 

But it was clear to Y/N that was what Tim was referring to. 

Jason looked down at her. 

“You don’t have to babysit me,” she teased him. “Go. I can entertain myself.”

He kissed her cheek and whispered, “If I’m not back in 30 minutes, please come rescue me.” 

She chuckled. “I would, but I’m not sure I’m going to be able to find you...” 

“I’ll bring him back in no time, Y/N. Promise.” Tim told her with a beaming smile. 

Y/N watched them go and Jason gave her one last reluctant look over his shoulder before he disappeared around a corner. 

Y/N sighed and poured another glass of champagne and told herself it was time to mingle. But when she looked up, there wasn’t a single person that looked like they had any interest in making new friends. 

‘Some party this is,’ she thought to herself before abandoning her post and deciding to take herself on a tour of Wayne Manor. 

Y/N decided she wanted to escape the curious and judgmental gazes of the party, and found herself in a darker hallway. Candles were lit everywhere, giving it a gothic semblance. 

Y/N’s heartbeat quickened when she realized she’d discovered a hallway filled with artwork. Millions upon millions of dollars worth of artwork, to be precise. 

She was glad no one else seemed to have wandered this far, for she could take her time to look at all of it. 

“I think you might be the only guest of the manor who has ever taken the time to look at the artwork.”

Y/N jumped at the voice and turned to see the infamous Bruce Wayne watching her with what seemed to be amusement. 

He was nearly as tall as Jason – nowhere near as stout, though. But that didn’t seem to matter because he had an intimidating presence that had Y/N realizing it made perfect sense that this man was also Batman.  

She had no idea how long she’d been staring at the paintings. It was easy for her to get lost in art. It tended to consume her.

“Well, not everyone has a Caravaggio casually hanging in their home.”

Bruce chuckled at that. 

“Sorry,” she quickly told him. “I didn’t mean to snoop. I feel like I’m at the Louvre.”

“Please,” he declined such an apology. “No one in that party could tell the difference between an oil and acrylic painting. It’s refreshing to meet someone who can appreciate art.” He paused. “Have you been?”

“Have I been where?”

“To the Louvre.”

“Oh,” she laughed. “Umm...no, sadly. It’s been my dream to go to Paris in general. I don’t speak French, though. So I don’t know how that would work out.”

Bruce Wayne seemed to be listening closely and had genuine interest in what she was saying. Which felt strange to her for some reason. 

Suddenly, Y/N felt like she shouldn’t be talking to him. Jason made it clear he had no intention of making peace tonight. So Y/N figured she was meant to keep her distance as well. 

“I’m…” she began. 

“Y/F/N Y/L/N,” Bruce finished for her. 

She raised a brow, unimpressed. 

Of course Batman would know every single person coming into his home. He probably caught her lingering in this hallway from multiple hidden security cameras. 

He reached out his hand. “Bruce Wayne.”

She hesitated, her eyes flickering between his fixed stare and his offered hand. 

But it ended with her shaking it, nonetheless. 

“Thank you for bringing Jason tonight. I have a feeling he would’ve never shown had it not been for you.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched in an attempt to stop herself from lashing out at Bruce. 

Yes, Jason was protective of her. But Y/N was also protective of Jason. 

It wasn’t the Wayne family that talked Jason out of the darkness. They weren’t the one who comforted him after his nightmares. They weren’t the one who kissed and touched the autopsy scars that he was ashamed of. They weren’t the one who made him realize he wasn’t a failure or a monster, that he was worth something.  

That was Y/N. 

And she wasn’t going to let any of them cause him to relapse.

“Did he tell you not to talk to me?” Bruce questioned.

He wasn’t one to beat around the bush. 

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Jason doesn’t tell me what to do.” 

Bruce smirked at how she didn’t back down and met his confrontation with confidence. “You’re not too fond of me, are you?”

Y/N shifted her weight a bit, but kept quiet, not wanting to confirm or deny his suspicions. 

“I’m not sure what Jason told–”

“He told me everything,” Y/N cut him off sharply. 

Bruce tilted his head. “Surely not everything.” Proving that he knew Jason completely kept Y/N away from his vigilante and crime life. 

Then Y/N lost her composure and took a step toward Bruce. “You call him your greatest failure,” she accused him. 

“Because I let him down.” 

“But it doesn’t matter how you meant it. How do you think that makes him feel?”

Bruce’s body tensed and his jaw tightened. 

Suddenly a dog came running out of nowhere and nearly tackled Y/N. She managed to stay on her feet, but her glass of champagne was knocked from her grasp and shattered on the floor. 

“Titus!” Bruce growled at the dog. 

A second later, a boy came running. 

“Damian, what did I tell you about keeping pets away from parties,” Bruce scolded.

“I apologize,” Damian told Y/N in a voice that should’ve belonged to an adult, rather than a pre-teen boy. But he seemed rather annoyed that he had to apologize to a stranger. 

Y/N chuckled at the black Great Dane. She barely had to bend down to pet the giant dog. “It’s fine. Dogs are always my favorite people I meet at parties.”

Damian looked between his father and Y/N, immediately getting the sense that she was not the average party guest. 

“Who’s she?” He asked bluntly. 

“Damian, this is Y/F/N Y/L/N.” Bruce gestured with an upturned palm. 

“Todd’s companion?” Damian stated, clearly sounding unimpressed. 

Jesus. They really did all know about her.

“Damian…” was all Bruce said to warn his son. 

“I don’t know what you see in him.”

“That’s enough, Damian.” Bruce snapped. 

That finally got the boy to shut his mouth. 

Y/N was about to tell both of them that it was fine. She had expected such greetings from Jason’s youngest brother. 

But her attention was diverted when she noticed Jason standing at the edge of the hallway. 

Bruce followed her gaze. 

There was a stare down between the two men that felt like an hour to Y/N. 

“Jason,” Bruce greeted steadily. 

Jason looked at his family coldly. “Bruce,” he replied with even less emotion. Then he looked down at his youngest brother, “Demon Spawn.”

“Todd,” Damian spat back. 

Jason’s gaze softened when it landed on Y/N. Ignoring the tension, he reached out a hand in her direction. “We should say our goodbyes to Alfred.” 

Y/N nodded and walked to her boyfriend, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. 

He quickly guided them back to the party without a second glance to Bruce and Damian. 

As soon as they were in a mass of people again, Y/N turned to Jason to ask him if he was OK. A part of her felt guilty, like she’d been caught doing something bad by being alone with Bruce Wayne. 

But Jason seemed to sense her concern and spoke before she could. “I’m stealing another bottle of champagne before we go,” and quickly went to the bar. 

“He lasted longer than I expected,” Dick’s voice came up beside her. 

Y/N barely glanced at him. “I’m proud of him,” was all she replied, as they both watched him. 

“I apologize for my behavior earlier. I’m afraid I didn’t give you the best first impression.”

Y/N fully turned to face him and laughed lightly. “I promise I won’t hold it against you.”

“I’m sure you think we’re all just being polite…but all of us really were looking forward to meeting you, Y/N.” 

“Even Damian?” She teased. 

Dick laughed. “Well, rumor is that Titus took an immediate liking to you. And Damian trusts his pets’ judgement of character more than any of ours.”

News really did travel fast in this family. 

Y/N smiled at that. “I’ve wanted to meet all of you for so long. I’m glad we finally made it happen.” She went back to their original topic. 

Dick winced. “I’d rather not think about what Jason’s said about us…”

“I think you might be pleasantly surprised,” she countered. 

“Ready to go?” Jason interrupted, ignoring Dick. 

For good measure, he dipped down to kiss Y/N’s bare shoulder. 

“Yeah, let’s go say bye to Alfred.” 

But she turned back to Dick. And to everyone’s surprise, she wrapped him into a hug. Dick was surprised, but welcomed the gesture. 

“Please keep an eye on him out there,” she whispered to him quietly enough so Jason didn’t have a chance of overhearing.

“Of course,” he told her. 

————————

Bruce pretended to be listening to a conversation with old family friends as he watched Y/N and Jason hug Alfred goodbye. 

He noticed Y/N say something to Alfred that made the butler’s face go serious. Then she handed him a business card. 

Bruce wanted to talk with Jason. He’d been both dreading and looking forward to tonight, hoping a miracle would occur and he could finally mend things with his son. 

But the way Jason had looked at him, Bruce knew everything he was feeling and it was clear Jason wasn’t going to let things go between them any time soon. 

Bruce politely excused himself and went to Alfred’s side. 

“What was that last bit about?” Bruce asked, indirectly telling Alfred that he’d been observing their conversation. 

Now the two men both watched Jason and Y/N from a window that gave a view of the front drive. 

Y/N threw her head back and laughed loudly at something Jason had whispered in her ear. 

“She asked if I could teach her first aid.”

They both know it went much deeper than first aid. Y/N was asking Alfred to show her how to stitch wounds, how to extract bullets, when to know Jason was too hurt to be fixed up by his inexperienced girlfriend. 

“She’s good for him,” Bruce thought aloud. 

“That she is, Master Bruce.” 

“I forgot what his laugh sounded like.” Bruce paused for a moment before adding, “I’ve never seen him smile like this. Not even before…” His words died. They both knew what ‘before’ was referring to. 

Suddenly Y/N pointed to Jason as she walked backwards, clearly giving him a warning of some sort. 

But Jason ignored her as he grabbed her by the waist and threw her over his shoulder. One of his hands was wrapped tightly around her thighs, securing her body to his chest, while the other hand held a bottle of champagne. 

They could hear Y/N’s laughter, even from inside the mansion. 

Alfred observed how Bruce watched his second son. “You must give him more time, Master Bruce.” 

However, Bruce said nothing in return. 

--------------------

Part 2

Please, please, please let me know what you think. I will take constructive criticism on my characterization of Jason Todd, as long as it’s done nicely😅 

[Also, I finally stopped being lazy and made my own header. 😂]

[let-me-love-you-loki]

Returning Too Late

A/N: Check out Mattie’s entrance theme at the end.

  I looked around at the back hallways of Daily’s Place like I hadn’t seen it in a long time. It wasn’t like we hadn’t been back to the place over the last year and a half, but there was something different about it now. My heart was full in a way that I couldn’t explain. It had been a long road getting here, but it was time.

           Tonight was Mattie’s in ring debut with AEW. Her first real match on the roster. The first one not with Matt or Nick or one of her extended aunts.

           I sat backstage in her locker room, watching as she sat on the floor stretching. She looked so much like Matt just then, her dark hair hanging long around her face as she moved into a split and leaned forward. I couldn’t count how many times I’d seen Matt and Nick do the same thing, pulling each other back and forth before a match.

           “Are you nervous?” I asked, leaning back against the wall.

           Mattie looked up, her blue eyes bright and wide. “Terrified,” she said with a grin. “But I can’t wait.”

           She pushed her arms high above her head, and I could have sworn I heard her shoulders pop. Her head rolled side to side before she flopped onto her back and stretched from her fingertips to her toes. I smiled fondly as she bridged up and kicked over into a handstand before rolling over to her feet.

           “How’s your knee?” I did my best to keep the nervousness out of my voice. The last thing I wanted was to let her know how truly worried I was. She’d trained for this, that every single member of her family—extended or not—had helped her get read for the moment that was about to come.

           My daughter walked over to the duffle bag on the couch against the wall. I watched her unzip it, her fingers shaking just a little. “It’s okay. Doc says I’m cleared.”

           “I know, Tea,” I replied. “Trust me, after all the years I’ve been with your Dad and Papa, I know that Doc Sampson and TK wouldn’t let you anywhere near the ring if you weren’t ready. I mean… does it hurt?”

           She pulled her gear from her bag. It had been a surprise from Denise Cutler. Growing up, Mattie had loved the paint splatter gear that Matt and Nick had worn when they were in New Japan and Ring of Honor. Denise had gone out of her way to find fabric like that again. She’d made stretchy crop top and high waisted bottoms of that material, stitched patches of it on a denim jacket. Mattie’s name was written in neon sequins on the back. Soon afterward came her knee brace, sheer and fishnet tights, socks, and a pair of custom white and splatter Air Force One high tops.

           Matt and Nick had been particularly proud of her when she’d decided she wanted to wrestle in Nike’s rather than traditional wrestling boots.

           I’d no more than thought about them than there was a knock on the door and Matt poked his head around, Nick just a few steps behind. “Can we come in?”

           “Sure, Papa,” Mattie said with a bright smile. She ran her hands through her hair, pulling it up into a knot. She’d go to hair and makeup soon.

           Nick looked at our daughter like she’d hung the stars. He’d been particularly emotional about her simultaneous debut and return to the ring. It had been almost eighteen months since her surgery. Eleven of recovery and another six of rehab before she was even allowed in a ring to start prepping for her return. Neither of my husbands had spent more than a few hours away from Mattie since the moment she’d broken an arm and destroyed her ACL, but Nick had hovered more than the rest of us.

           “Feeling nervous?” Nick asked with a curl to his mouth. He plopped down on the couch by her bag while Matt leaned against the wall a few feet away.

           Mattie rolled her eyes. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

           “Because it’s the first time you’re going to be on TV. And you haven’t been in the ring with anyone but us in months,” Matt said matter-of-factly.

           I stood up and crossed over toward him. The moment I got within reach, I thumped him hard in the chest. “Are you trying to make it worse, Matthew?”

           He put the flat of his palm on his chest and made an ow face. “Best to be honest about all of it, Mama. So she knows what she’s walking into.”

           Mattie grabbed her gear and pushed her way into the bathroom to change. She left the door open enough hat she could yell back out at us. “Papa, I’ve grown up here. And I know just about everything I could possibly know about it. The hard camera is ramp right. Aubrey is the ref tonight. We’ve got ten minutes right after nine. Then a backstage interview right after the match with Marvez. I promise… I know what’s going on.”

           Nick grinned. “And you know Papa and I will be out there with you. You won’t be alone.”

           “And I’ll be backstage, Tea. Right next to TK.” The truth was, regardless of how Mattie felt, I was more nervous than I’d ever been.

           The bathroom door opened and Mattie stepped out. She stretched, rolling her shoulders and testing out the way her gear felt. Neon paint splatter in pink, greens, blues, and blacks. Ripped fishnets over sheer tights. Those Air Force Ones that Matt and Nick had ordered for her debut. My vision blurred with tears as I looked at my eldest daughter. She had grown up so fast.

           “I promise,” Mattie said with a bright smile, “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

           Matt grinned and pulled her into a hug. He stuck his nose in her hair and squeezed her tightly. “I know, Tea. I know. You’re going to be amazing. Now, you need to go down the hall to Jericho and say ‘Thank you.’”

           “For what?”

           Nick stood up, grabbed her denim jacket with his free hand, and pushed her toward the door with the other. “You’ll see.”

***

           When it was almost time for Mattie’s match, I sank down in a chair next to Tony Khan at the production table. He pushed a bag of Sour Patch Kids toward me with a sideways grin before reaching for my hand. Tony had come into our lives at a time that couldn’t have been more perfect. Mattie had been almost three when he’d reached out to Matt and Nick with the offer to start a new wrestling promotion. Weeks of conversations and negotiations had led to my husbands deciding that they were finished with New Japan and Ring of Honor. They wanted a new start… one that was closer to home. That gave them a better chance to be with our daughter. To raise her for real and not over FaceTime and Skype.

           The moment she’d learned to talk, Mattie had started calling him Bub. Tony had been more than happy to live up to the name. They had been thick as thieves for as long as I could remember. Whenever we brought her to the arenas, she loved going to wherever Tony was. She sat on Tony’s lap through meetings and managing the live show. He’d been ecstatic when Mattie said she wanted to wrestle, and he’d been willing to give her a contract at thirteen—one that delayed officially until she was sixteen and became binding when she was eighteen.

           Matt and Nick talked him into waiting until she was seventeen to make an official offer.

           “Are you as nervous as I am?” I asked Tony as I grabbed a handful of the candy.

           He grinned in that way of his. All energy and wide brown eyes and enthusiasm. “She’s going to be amazing. Just like we’ve always known.”

           Dustin Rhodes came by, a girl just a little older than Mattie at his side. She was petite with a happy smile and short black hair. Alexis Smart. My daughter’s opponent for the night. She’d been trained by Dustin and Serena Deeb. Tony was giving Mattie a good showing on her first match on TV. The girls would be debuting on Dynamite together.

           “You guys are going to be fantastic,” I called out to her as she walked by. She turned and grinned. Dustin stopped by the table a few feet away.

           “Thanks, Mrs. Jackson,” Alexis said, her voice a little nervous.

           Dustin put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed. He looked over at Tony. “You still giving them ten minutes?”

           Before he could answer, Mattie walked around the corner with Matt and Nick in tow. They practically beamed with pride. I couldn’t blame them. I felt it rush up beneath my ribs the moment that I realized she was a few minutes away from wrestling on live television for the first time. That she was going to follow in her fathers’ footsteps.

           “No,” Tony said as Mattie stepped up to the table next to Alexis. He looked between the girls with an impish grin. “No, I’m giving them fifteen. A few over if they really need it. I want you two to have a great first night out.”

           Mattie smiled nervously and reached out for the other girl’s hand. Their fingers laced together and squeezed hard.

***

           I watched as Alexis went out to the ring during the commercial break. Dustin would be in her corner. I’d watched her get better and better as she worked the YouTube shows and dark matches. There’s no one else I would have picked for my daughter’s debut opponent.

           Mattie waited at the end of the tunnel, Matt on one side and Nick on the other. They each put one hand on her back before leaning their heads against hers. I could see their mouths moving in prayer, the ritual they had before every match. My heart swelled with pride and love. I would never get over how much I loved those two men and how much they had given me just by loving me.

           The opening guitar of Superkick Party began only to be stopped with a record scratch. A heavy drumbeat and strong guitar rushing through the speakers. I grinned the moment that Mattie realized what it was. She’d sworn up and down that she was fine using her fathers’ entrance music, but Matt and Nick had been working behind the scenes to get her something of her own. When Chris Jericho heard them talking about it, he practically begged them to let him give her one of Fozzy’s songs if she’d take it. Instead of putting the idea to Mattie, the three of them together decided to surprise her with it. They’d settled on Unstoppable, playing over a plain black screen with Mattie’s name scrawled in white with a red line beneath.

           Mattie took a breath and took off through the tunnel, Matt and Nick glancing over their shoulders at me before they disappeared. I turned my attention to the monitor in front of me. The ramp camera came into position. Mattie stopped at the top, giving her best Wonder Woman pose. The arena erupted with noise as Matt and Nick came out behind her, falling into their trademark pose. I wiped the tears from my cheeks as Mattie grinned. Streamer cannons went off.

           Justin Roberts’ voice filled the air. “And her opponent, accompanied by the Young Bucks, making her Dynamite debut from Rancho Cucamonga, California, Mattie Jackson.”

____ Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it

@not-that-kinda-gurl08

@lilred91

@imagineall-the-fandoms

@maelleoute

@librathepheonix13

@unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin

@nick-kenny-eddie

@ryantaylorgirl

[professorrw]

Undeniable Feelings

Pairing: female reader x Sam Wilson

Warnings: swearing, fluff, friends to lovers

A/N: This wasn’t requested but I it was an idea I had written down and I finally had the time to write it. This is the longest one-shot I’ve done so far at over 3,000 words. I hope you all like it and if you did, heart, comment, and reblog! If you want to be added to a taglist feel free to ask! 

Next Up: Peter Parker x Reader fluff request

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out to see a text from Sam.

“I gotta ask you something. I’ll come by later.”

You reply with a thumbs up emoji and put your phone away.

Huh, what did he want to ask you? You couldn’t imagine he would have time in his schedule to even talk to you now that he was Captain America. He sighed reminiscing on how far you both had come. You started out as some kids in the Air Force and now you were working undercover and Sam was Captain America. 

It felt like just yesterday when you and Sam decided to enlist. You were basically kids back then. It was astonishing you managed to stay friends through it all.

You were proud of Sam. He deserves recognition for all his hard work. You had read multiple articles on how people felt about a black Captain America and it was mostly positive, which was relieving. 

Your mind returned to the task you were supposed to do. You briskly moved past the pedestrians of New York and went into a small bar, rumored to be running an underground black market.

You got there just on time and waited in the corner as the first suspect rolled in. You approached the bar as the man walked in. He went to the end of the counter and you got as close as you could without being suspicious. The bartender came over and you ordered a beer, which you didn’t intend to drink.

The man next to you spoke to the bartender in a hushed voice, whispering things you could just barely pick up. You recited the words in your head as the suspect left the bar. You lingered for a few more minutes to receive your beer, which you gave to a woman that was a few seats down.

The sidewalk was packed as usual and you were shoved a few times on the way to your apartment. You shoved your key into the lock and opened the door to your average home. It wasn’t big by any means, but it was decent for New York City.

You relayed the information you gathered to your superiors, letting them know that you were done for the day.

You relaxed for a few hours, sitting on the couch and catching up on the shows everyone was watching. It was nearly eight when you got a knock on your door. It had a beat to it, only the type of knock you know Sam would do.

You don’t know why he even bothers knocking when he has a key. He didn’t live there but before he was Captain America and an Avenger he would come over all the time and you got tired of unlocking the door. You craned your neck as he walked in carrying a bag of takeout.

“I know you haven’t had supper yet so I stopped to get some. And it's your favorite, Chinese.” He flashes you a smile and sets the bag down on the coffee table in front of the couch. You don’t even wait for him to sit down before you grab a styrofoam container and plastic utensils. 

“Damn you're hungry.” He chuckles and tucks into the couch next to you.

“As always,” you reply.

Eating Chinese on your couch with Sam felt so normal. It was something you hadn’t done in a long time due to your jobs. No matter how far away you were, you stayed friends. Sam wasn’t the type to just lose contact with people, especially not his best friend. You could remember how long and lanky he used to be in high school and looking at him now you could see how much he had filled out.

“Whatcha watchin’?” He made a gesture toward the TV with his fork.

“Random show.” As you popped another piece of chicken in your mouth you remembered the whole reason he was coming over. “What did you want to ask me?”

“Oh yeah. Well…” he trailed off and gave you a cheeky smile. “There’s this ball I’ve been invited to. They said I could bring a plus one and I was hoping you would come with me.” He cocked his head to the side slightly and raised his eyebrows as if saying, “So how about it?”

You had been to a few ball type parties before for your job but you were never there for your own enjoyment. You would be going as Sam’s date. No, not date, plus one. You would be happy to accompany him.

“When is it?”

“Uh… Friday night.”

“Oh that’s soon, like, in three days.”

“I know it’s short notice. You don’t have to go with me. I can go solo.”

“No, no, I’ll go. I’ll go.”

He gives you a smile, showing the gap between his front teeth. He used to get picked on for it in elementary school but you thought it was cute. Sam in general was cute, more like hot honestly. Gosh, why were you thinking about your best friend that way? It’s normal right? You’ve known each other for so long it’s natural to think of him like that. You’d thought of him that way for a long time actually.

Before you went your separate ways career wise you liked him. You kept on telling yourself you would tell him but you never got the chance. And then you were both so busy with your jobs you didn’t think it would work out. You still to this day regretted never telling him. Him working with the Avengers and now being Captain America made it seem even more impossible.

Sam stayed for a few hours longer, leaving when both of your eyes were droopy. Before he headed out the door he hugged you. A really tight hug at that. You hadn’t seen each other in a while but why did he hug you like that? He usually stuck to a one-armed hug if anything. Maybe it was because you accepted his invitation?

“I’ll pick you up at seven. See ya bug.” He laughed as you tossed a pillow towards him. He wasn’t literally calling you a bug. The nickname came from your childhood fear of all bugs, even butterflies. He always teased you about it, finding rollie pollies and hanging them in your face while you squealed. He thought it was hilarious but young you found it very aggravating.

You went about the days until the ball normally, but when you weren’t focused on work your mind would drift to the ball. You were going to be Sam’s plus one. That meant you would have to dance together right? You felt butterflies in your stomach when you thought about Sam’s hands on your waist as you were pressed together. You felt like a giddy teenager again for the first time in years. 

You could remember in high school when Sam would ask his crushes out to dances and you would watch longingly off to the side with some random guy. For so long you were hopelessly in love with him, your best friend. 

Friday night eventually rolled around. Thankfully, you didn’t have work that day. By five o’clock you finally started getting ready. You took a shower, did your makeup, did your hair, and picked out your outfit. The dress you chose was one you’d never worn before. It was gorgeous and you never felt like the events you were attending would do it justice. You knew that tonight was the perfect time to wear it.

After you put on accessories you stood in front of your full length mirror. You weren’t one to boast but you looked absolutely stunning. You knew you would knock the socks off of Sam.

A short while later someone knocks on your door. This time you open it. As soon as the door opened you were both staring at each other. Your jaw almost dropped to the floor as you took in the way Sam looked. He looked finer than ever in a well tailored black suit and shoes. If you looked up the definition of sexy Sam’s photo would definitely be there. He wasn’t the only one that was ogling. In his eyes you looked like a goddess, so beautiful you seemed unreal.

“Wow- You- Wow. You look amazing.” He couldn’t take his eyes off you as you slipped an arm into his. 

“You’re looking pretty sharp yourself, Wilson.”

You got in Sam’s car and drove to the venue. The venue was magnificent. It was one of the few ballrooms you hadn’t been to before. Reports surrounded the building as you stepped out of the car, arm in arm with Sam. The flashing cameras nearly blinded you. Everyone wanted an exclusive photo of the Captain America.

Reporters thrusted microphones into your faces as you passed and one nearly smacked you in the nose. Sam pulled you closer and quickened his pace so you could get away from all the chaos.

The inside of the building was grand. The walls and ceiling were ornate with engravings and rich colors. Chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting the room in a dreamlike glow. The main ballroom was full and loud. There were definitely more than 300 people there. 

Sam’s arm left your waist and dropped to his side as he took in the whole scene. You were somewhat disappointed that he stopped holding you, but he didn’t know that.

You had barely made it through the doors when a robust man came up to you both. “Welcome! Mr. Wilson, or should I say Cap, I’m glad you could make it!” The man spoke with a Jersey accent and in a very animated way, hands and arms accentuating every word. Just from seeing and hearing him you could tell he was a character. 

Sam wasn’t deterred by the big personality and shook his meaty hand, “Thank you Mr. Gafner. It’s an honor to be here.” Unlike Mr. Gafner, Sam spoke with a cool confidence that made him seem even more suave than he looked.

“Ahh! You humble an old man! It’s an honor to have you. Now that the parties here we can get this shindig started. Shall we?”

Mr. Gafner clapped Sam on the back and sent a thumbs up to someone across the room. Not a second later music began to play from a group of people on the side of a stage. The music sounded familiar, classical music with a modern twist almost. It wasn’t your typical gala music, but it was far from rave music.

Mr. Gafner walked away to tend to other guests, leaving you and Sam to fend for yourselves. You didn’t recognize any of the people there. The mayor and a few other higher ranking government officials were the only ones you recognized. You guessed the rest or the attendees were also government officials and local socialites.

It was like being at a party where you only knew one person all over again. It was strange how often you had been feeling like a teen again recently. Maybe it was Sam’s close proximity in your life again. You texted and talked over the phone but it wasn’t the same as being in person and that must have been the reason for all these resurfacing feelings.

You didn’t know where to go or what to do. You never planned what you would actually do when you arrived. All you could think about was being with Sam. Luckily he was still by your side, but you assumed that wouldn’t last long.

Sure enough when other guests noticed him a flock of them came over. You thought you would be swallowed and then spit out on the other side of the room by the crowd but that wasn’t the case. Sam could sense your unease and made sure to keep you close, arm slinking around you once again. You didn’t know it but he was feeling just as lost as you were. It was all a part of his new job as Captain America.

Sam quickly became the center of attention. Even the mayor came to congratulate him. No one acknowledged you, and as the minutes passed you felt more like an accessory than a person. You were used to blending in, so why did this bother you so much? 

You were shuffling back and forth on your feet, eager to move yet unable to escape due to the bubble that surrounded you both. You literally let out a breath of relief when Mr. Gafner went on stage and spoke into a microphone.

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen! You all look lovely tonight, but I’m sure you already know that.”

A few chuckles came from the crowd, which was now moving to sit at the circular tables on the sides of the dance floor. There were place cards for everyone to find their seats and it seemed like you and Sam were the only ones that didn’t know where yours were located.

As your host continued to talk you finally found your spots, which happened to be near the stage. You both sat down and got comfortable, preparing yourselves to hear a long speech. You tuned back into Mr. Gafner’s just as he was saying, “We have a very special guest tonight, and no it’s not me, someone even more special. We have in attendance tonight, the one, the only, Samuel Wilson.”

Polite applause erupted in the room but quieted when the man resumed speaking. “If you would, Mr. Wilson, grace us with a speech?” Your eyes shot to Sam as he said that. You didn’t know Sam was supposed to make a speech and from Sam’s wide eyes you could tell he didn’t either.

He quickly fixed his face, standing up and making his way to the front. Mr. Gafner handed over the mic, giving Sam the floor. 

“Hello. As you know, I am Captain America, but formerly known as the Falcon. Since I took on this role I’ve been really busy. Steve never talked about the press conference side of things, unfortunately.”

There were a few laughs and Sam paused before he continued. As his speech went on you could tell he was getting a little nervous. He started talking faster, which was a tell-tale sign. You weren’t sure why he was nervous, the whole room was fully focused on him, listening intently as he talked. A reporter even managed to slip in with a camera and record. 

Sam’s gaze momentarily shifted to the side to look at you and in that moment you smiled at him. Sam’s nerves seemed to melt away, and he was back to his grinning self in a second.

“This is truly an honor and I have so many people to thank for this. I want to wrap this up with a simple and short, thank you. Thank you my fellow people, thank you to everyone on this Earth, and the biggest thank you to my best friend, who was there through it all.”

The room erupted in applause once again, but much louder than before. Everyone in general was clapping loudly but you had no doubt that you were clapping the loudest. You were so goddamn proud of him. 

He waved as he walked back to your table, beaming. 

“I don’t know how you do it.”

“Do what? Become Captain America or give a speech?”

“Low blow! I can give a speech now for your information.”

“You sure as hell couldn’t in elementary. You puked as soon as you got off the damn stage.”

You were both cracking up, paying no attention to the other people at your table.

Inevitably more people flocked to Sam, praising his speech. You were saved once again by the music picking up and people migrated to the dance floor. You sat watching the crowd as they slowly danced.

“You wanna dance bug?” Sam held his hand out, offering it to you.

“Sure, why not?” You did your best to act nonchalant. You couldn’t tell if Sam knew that butterflies were fluttering in your stomach.

You took his hand, letting him guide you to the middle of the room. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against him. Your arms slid behind his neck and then you started to sway along with the music. You rested your head on his chest and were able to hear his heartbeat. It was faster than normal, but that might have been because he was still pumped from the speech.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be fully in the moment. It was something out of a fairytale. You two in the middle of the dance floor swaying together. It fulfilled all your teenage dreams, but you found yourself wishing for the same things now as an adult. You wanted Sam. There was no doubt about it. The past few days just proved that even further. 

The song came to a close and couples started switching partners. You lifted your head to meet Sam’s eyes, which were already looking into yours. You wanted so badly to kiss him, to just lean forward and close that distance between you. After waiting for so long, for so many years, you were going to tell him. 

“Sam-” you were cut off by a woman tapping your shoulder. 

“May I?” she asked.

Of course that was just your luck. You felt dejected. You were finally about to tell him but you were interrupted. Maybe that was the world’s way of saying that it wasn’t supposed to happen.

You were about to let go of Sam when he spoke up, “Actually we were about to go outside for some fresh air. If you’ll excuse us.” You looked back at the lady as Sam pulled you along with a hand on your back. She looked dumbfounded, shocked that he would reject her.

Sam pulled you through the back doors and into the brisk night air. This area of the building was blocked off and could only be accessed by going through the hall, which meant that no paparazzi could get to you. 

You were only able to take one breath before Sam turned to you. “Y/N- I- I love you.”

It was so sudden you thought you heard him wrong. But no, you heard him right. He had a vulnerable look in his eyes, did he expect you not to reciprocate those feelings?

Your heart fluttered and you felt a trickle of relief flood throughout you. “I love you too.”

“You’re not pulling my leg?” His eyebrows were turned upwards in the middle from genuine worry.

“No Sam. I’ve loved you for years.” You were unaware that you were inching closer and closer to him but he wasn’t. You both wanted the same thing and so Sam went for it. He put a hand on your neck, thumb grazing your jaw. He took the last step forward and kissed you. It seemed the whole word lit up, fireworks going off just for you two.

Time stood still, the world was revolving around you and Sam, together at last.

Taglist: @bellamy1998​

[firefly-in-darkness]

Dream A Little Dream

Characters → Y/N & Dean Winchester.

Summary → Y/N has always daydreamed of Dean being more than a friend regardless of knowing she wasn’t his type. Is she going to be able to keep her feelings in check when they pretend to be a couple in their hunt for a witch?

Word Count → 2.9k

Warnings → 18+, a little bit of angst, low self-esteem, fluff. Sexy things. Happy ending.

Beta → @princessmisery666 & @daydream3r-xo // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → This is my Secret Santa fic for @spnsecretsantaficexchange & this story is being gifted to @waywardnerd67 who asked for a friends to lovers, only one bed & plus size reader fic - I hope you enjoy this lovely!

Masterlist

Dean Winchester: a man full of love for the world that didn’t appreciate him. He was a hunter, hero, and saviour. Not that he’d ever call himself anything like that, he was too modest. It was just the family business, saving people, hunting things. And Y/N was lucky, or not so lucky, to experience all of this with him. As his friend. 

Even if it pained Y/N to be near Dean; his charm, his sense of humour, his body, his warmth, all she wanted was to have him closer. Have them be skin to skin, holding onto another tightly in a lover’s embrace. All Y/N wanted was for him to hold her tight, to whisper that he loved her. But she realised, a long time ago, that Dean Winchester would never see her as anything other than a friend.

The sight of Dean flirting his way across the towns they visited, and the types of women he had fallen into bed with, made it clear that all they’d ever be was friends. He acted so candidly with these beautiful creatures and Y/N would never compare to them. Y/N didn’t look anything like the women he was interested in, she wasn’t his type in the slightest. Dean never looked at her with lust or directed that cheeky smirk her way.

Y/N had long ago settled for the relationship that they had, it had to be enough. She had to stop daydreaming about Dean and if there were more meaning to the way he pulled her into a shoulder hug after a successful hunt. The way he tended to the wounds across her body as if she was a delicate flower about to wilt at the feel of a heavy hand. Or how he’d kiss the top of her head as she drifted to sleep against his shoulder as he drove the Impala. 

Those were the most intimate moments, and it had her clutching to the idea of him being more than a fellow hunter and companion. Those sweet daydreams were enough to let all worries disappear and bring her hope. If only he dreamed a little dream of me.

In reality, Y/N would only be Dean’s friend, and that was final. She tucked away her feelings into the smallest part of her being, locked and hidden from everyone. Because, to have a small amount of love from Dean, even if platonic, was enough. 

Y/N had learnt to distract herself, to steer away from the daydreaming and getting lost in his beautiful eyes. She’d preoccupy herself with a game on her phone whenever Dean appeared looking dashing or when he’d stepped out of a steaming shower; his glistening torso and the loosely wrapped towel had been a long tormented situation until she learnt to avoid looking his way.

Coffee would be buzzing through her system so that she didn’t fall asleep unexpectedly against him and when injuries occurred, she began dealing with them on her own just to avoid his touch. It wasn’t so bad to do it by herself, she’d done it before. But, as much as Y/N tried to avoid Dean, it was inevitable that something would come to test her.

It came in the form of Dean’s idea of pretending to be a couple in a restaurant in the hope of catching the witch causing havoc in the small town in the middle of nowhere. Y/N told yourself over and over - ‘this isn’t real, we are just friends.’ But nothing prepared her for the moment she walked into the motel room. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind as they left Sam at the bunker and travelled across state lines for the next hunt. 

Y/N’s eyes blew wide at the sight before her. One bed. One fucking bed.

Dean was completely oblivious to the conflict that raged in Y/N’s head and went straight into the bathroom. At least it gave Y/N some privacy and a moment to breathe. But how could she when her mind swam with hundreds of thoughts all at once? It was like the gods were playing a cruel trick. How were they going to sleep in the same bed, together? And how could she possibly even sleep with him lying next to her? The running water of the shower did little to discourage the more intimate thoughts.

To quiet the voices in her head, she took a seat and looked through the little research that Dean had gathered. The distraction worked for a while, at least until he returned to the room in his loungewear and inspected the suit that Y/N had hung up neatly. She watched him with incredulous disbelief as he grabbed the remote for the television before he climbed onto the bed. 

Dean settled back on the mattress, flicked through the channels until he found something decent to watch and placed his arms at the back of his head. 

He turned his gaze to her, “are you going to just sit there or join me?”

Y/N frowned, “shouldn’t we ask for a different room and do some more research?”

Dean’s focus had already returned to the television, “this is the only room available. We haven’t got to do anything until this evening so just relax.”

Reasoning with herself that if Dean thought it was a problem then he’d say something, she took the spot beside him and lost herself in the drama unfolding on the small screen at the foot of the bed. It was the first time in a long time that she felt relaxed around the older Winchester, even if she was worried about sinking back into old habits.

The opaque garment bag was hooked to the back of the bathroom door, Y/N could see it in the corner of her eye as she readjusted the towel around her body and continued to finish her makeup in the small mirror. It felt like the dress was taunting her, it wasn’t something she’d usually wear, and it had made her feel self-conscious from the moment she pulled it out of the depths of the wardrobe back at the bunker.

The zip on the bag got stuck and almost caught the fabric of the navy dress inside but once it was out of the plastic cover, Y/N inspected it for any tears, but it all seemed to be okay. With the dress now on full display, she backed away and perched on the closed toilet seat. She was stepping into new territory and needed a moment to process it.

Y/N had worn the dress once before, about two years ago. She’d become stuck in her ways and used to the comfort of jeans or leggings paired with baggy tops. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the dress, it’s just that she knew that it would look and feel different compared to before.

What if it shows all my lumps and bumps? I’m going to look pathetic compared to Dean, will anyone believe that we are on a date? Doubt it.

A light knock on the door brought Y/N’s attention back to the reality of getting ready for their hunt and date. The towel was discarded to the floor and she pulled the dress over her head, hoping not to smudge her makeup.

Dean spoke, his voice muffled through the door panel, “we’ve got to go in ten minutes.”

“Just a minute,” Y/N replied and finished adjusting the thin straps and smoothed out the skirt of the mid-length dress.

With one final look in the mirror and a deep breath, she opened the bathroom door.

Y/N had never imagined this would be how the evening would go; sitting in a fine restaurant with Dean Winchester - he was the perfect date, even if it wasn’t a real one. She couldn’t help but wonder if this is what Dean was really like on a date. That Y/N might have caught a glimpse of what it would be like to get his attention.

After three glasses of wine and their delicious meal, the pair of them remained out of luck; there was no sign of the witch or potential victims. Dean paid for their dinner, even after Y/N’s protests to split the check.

The stroll back to the Impala was enough time for Y/N’s thoughts to turn negative. It was as if the second they walked out of the restaurant that reality came crashing down around her. It wasn’t a real date and it never would be because she was not Dean’s type. Y/N didn’t look like those women and she never would, no matter how she looked tonight. It’s not what Dean wanted.

Y/N sunk into the cold leather, it stung against her exposed skin; goosebumps rose across her flesh until the heavy material of Dean’s jack was draped over her. The action made Y/N flinch as she hadn’t realised how close Dean was until he was gone.

“Thank you,” was all she could muster, “and for tonight.”

He smiled softly, “you’re welcome.”

Dean pulled up outside the motel room but neither of them rushed to leave. Hope blossomed in Y/N’s heart, that just maybe Dean didn’t want this to end either. That thought bashed away all the negatives as he turned in his seat. His eyes roamed her face for a moment and a lopsided grin formed. His eyes crinkling at the corners in the way that Y/N adored.

His smile reminded her of the ones he’d given to many women over the years, but this one seemed different; there was a glint in his eyes that made Y/N question if those other smiles weren’t genuine. That this one was real.

“D’ya know it’s been over four years since we met.” He looked back out into the almost empty parking lot before Y/N could nod in response, “and guess what today is?”

Y/N looked at him in confusion, today was no different to any other day. Except, it would be forever etched in her heart as the day she almost went on a date with Dean Winchester and lived to tell the tale.

Dean continued to look out into the dark sky, the stars shining brightly above them, mixed in with the glow of the motel lights.

“It’s been a year since we took down that vampire nest in New Orleans,” Dean mentioned.

Vampires and New Orleans was a whirlwind hunt; one which left Y/N with severe injuries. Nothing was broken but the blow to her ribs had been enough for her to be winded and have heavy bruising for weeks. Y/N ended up on bed rest at the Bunker for at least a month before Sam and Dean allowed her to go on another hunt.

Dean sighed, his head rolling over to look at Y/N once more, “a year since I realised something.”

A shiver ran over her body from the way his voice dropped lower and could barely say more than a whisper as she got lost in his emerald gaze, “what was that?”

“That you mean a lot to me,” Dean responded, not a fleck of a waiver in his tone. 

In the dim light of the lamps, his hand nudged along the seat of Baby towards Y/N’s. At the sight of the intimate gesture, she slid her hand closer. Y/N’s body hummed with butterflies as his fingers laced over her own. This wasn’t a dream or a fantasy, this was real. 

Y/N glanced up to see Dean was already looking at her intently and that’s when she realised, she hadn’t said anything, “you mean a lot to me too Dean.”

A sigh fell from Dean’s plump lips before he leant forward and cupped her cheek with his other hand. Within a heartbeat, Dean’s face neared Y/N’s, eyes closing on instinct as she awaited his kiss.

Dean’s lips softly brushed against her own, a ghost of a kiss, then he pecked a little harder while his thumb caressed the apple of her cheek. Even though Y/N couldn’t believe this was happening, she wasn’t going to hold back any longer and as he pulled away, she gripped the back of his neck and pressed her mouth harder against him. 

Y/N poured every ounce of her feelings into it, shifting closer to him and running her hands through his short hair as his arm wrapped around her waist. A flicker of his tongue across her bottom lip and his hand stroking down her back sent a wave of pleasure to her aching core. 

A soft moan escaped Y/N’s mouth as he massaged the flesh of her ass, giving his tongue a chance to explore her further. The urgency of the kiss heightened as she shifted to straddle his lap but before she had a chance to move Dean pulled away, his hands settling on her biceps.

“I think we should slow down. Can we at least go inside?” Dean asked.

Her head fell back in laughter, and with a nod, Dean pulled Y/N out of the car and towards the motel room. As he fiddled with the lock, something dawned on her; why did he wait a year to tell her? The creaking of the door and the tug on his hand had her following behind.

“Now, where were we?” Dean pulled Y/N close to him, her hands resting against his broad chest.

“I think you were going to tell me why you waited so long to do anything?” She raised her brow at him and tapped his chest with her index finger.

Dean smirked and took a seat at the edge of the bed, patting his thigh for Y/N to join him. Y/N bit her lip and perched on Dean’s knee, arms wrapping around his neck while Dean held her close around the waist, one of his hands stroking her hip. The sensation was driving her wild, but she wanted to know why he hadn’t made a move before now.

“I did sweetheart,” Dean kept his focus on her eyes, “you responded to everything, I was going to do something about it once I knew for sure but then I noticed you had started hanging out with Sam or throwing yourself into research. I thought I’d read everything wrong and that’s when I thought that maybe you were pulling away.”

Y/N listened to every word, nodding for him to continue as her heart raced at his confession; all those moments were real. Not only had Dean been feeling the same way, but he’d also been daydreaming about her too.

“I honestly thought you felt the same way when you fell asleep next to me when we watched that show you like, erm-” Dean paused, his brow scrunching together.

Y/N could see the cogs ticking and chuckled because she knew exactly what he was talking about and wanted to see if he knew, give him the chance to win this moment.

“-Gossip Girl!” He grinned at his triumph, “yeah, you turned over and your hand grabbed mine. Well, it meant a lot.”

“And then you set this up?” Y/N asked with a slight smirk on her lips and a raised eyebrow.

Dean pulled back, his face blank at first, only for a blush to form across his freckled cheeks, “how did you know?”

Y/N’s hands tugged at his collar, loosening the tie, “well, for starters, you did the research.”

He rolled his eyes and then focused on Y/N once more as her fingers made light work of the buttons. Following her lead, he found the zipper at the back of the dress, tugging it down slowly. Excitement pooled in Y/N’s belly and her skin simmered with pleasure at his actions.

“Then, you didn’t want to snoop around the restaurant.” Y/N stood up, letting the dress drop to the ground. 

The confidence in her appearance grew tenfold as Dean’s eyes darkened at her matching lacy underwear and the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips. She stepped out of the dress and heels, dropping to her knees in front of Dean and unbuckled his belt.

“Not only that, but there are no other cars in the parking lot and a bright ‘vacancies’ sign outside.”

With her bottom lip brought between her teeth, she glanced up at Dean, “which means that you planned all of this.”

Y/N gripped the slacks at his hips and tugged them down, exposing the hard length that tented his boxers. She couldn’t help the way her mouth watered at the sight of him above her but before she could reach to pull down his boxers, Dean had gripped her arms and pulled her up to his level.

“Well done smarty-pants, now come here.”

Dean’s lips crashed to hers, a fever of pleasure and affection dripping from the kiss as they collapsed back onto the mattress. Their bodies tangled together, heat radiated from them both as they grasped at limbs and kissed without abandon.

That night, they started making up for the year that they had missed out on. The year that they’d both been too hesitant, lost in their daydreams instead of basking in the reality of their love.

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[binniedeactivated]

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 ↺ || 𝐡.𝐤.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 |  𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐚𝐢 𝐱 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝!𝐩𝐨𝐜 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 |  𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞!𝐚𝐮 , "𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫" 𝐚𝐮.

𝐖/𝐂 |  15.389k

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 | (𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 "𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫") 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭. 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬, 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥, 𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐚𝐢.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬.

a/n; i miss making legit fics for yall ;(((((( and I feel bad because I haven’t been writing as much as I should I’m so so sorry <3

“so what are you? sophomore? freshman?”. bria asks, stuffing her foot into her platformed converse. gabrielle nods, folding a shirt and inserting it into her drawer. “wow I wasn’t expecting them to give me a freshman for a roommate”. she scoffs kind of smug. “is that a problem?”. gabrielle speaks up, pushing a puffy curly strand of hair over to the other side of her head. bria only grinned and shook her head no. “nah. that just means I have a lot to teach you”.

“teach me?”.

“yeah”, bria agrees, in the mirror coating her lips with gloss. bria was a dark skinned five foot eight beauty. if gabrielle didn’t know any better she’d mistake her for a model almost. she had gorgeous curly afro hair, similar to that of a lion’s mane. gabrielle hadn’t saw much of her wardrobe yet but just by the edgy outfit she was already wearing she could tell that her style was to die for. her lips were thick and full and complimented her cat-like eyes well. gabrielle thought maybe she could pick up a few tips from her, especially with makeup. it was so perfect she could feel herself shrinking into her own insecurities. she thought she was pretty decent looking but no where near bria's level. gabrielle herself had honey brown skin, big brown curly hair with lots of volume. heart shaped lips. large brown wistful eyes with clear glasses frames worn over them. she was sort of chubby. her physique wasn't something she saw as a win in her eyes. her chest was average sized and her ass was there yet barely visible. and her waist definitely wasn't as snatched as bria's. but still, if she was going to be in college amongst those who looked different from her she had to try and gain some type of confidence about herself.

“what is there to teach me?”.

bria scoffs again, screwing the cap back onto her gloss. “you don’t want to know what it’s like to live the life here? trust me girl I’m almost a senior I can teach you a few things”.

“like what? if you’re talking about partying and all that I’m going to have to pass. I just got here and I don’t want to be running into trouble”.

“girl how is partying going to get you in trouble? you’re grown now. you don’t have you parents watching over you anymore. you can be free and do what you want to do”.

gabrielle grabs another shirt. “yeah but suppose one of ya’ll do some illegal shit? and then what? I can’t tell the cops that I wasn’t involved because I’m just a freshman. I’m going to jail right with ya’ll”.

bria tilts her head back and laughs. “you’re a trip if you think we ever do illegal shit and get caught”.

gabrielle shuts her drawer, moving another box across the room to her desk. “yeah well, I don’t want to be involved anyway. even the risk is too much. plus I don’t know how my boyfriend is going to feel about me out partying with other guys and shit”.

bria made a tsk noise with her lips prior to walking to her closet for her collection of purses. “you really came to college with a boyfriend? just how dumb are you?”.

“what? what’s wrong with having a boyfriend?”.

“girl do I even have to ask? look at you. you’re already uptight. you don’t want to party, you’re worried about what he might think. he already has you right where he wants you. living a boring life like him”.

gabrielle shifts her weight on her feet. “he doesn’t--live a boring life. he’s just protective”.

“tsk. that’s what he told you?”.

“well yeah--”.

“how old is your little boyfriend?”.

“he’s seventeen”.

bria tilts her head back and does that laugh again. the one that made gabrielle seem out out of place. mostly because she didn’t know what was funny to begin with. “yeah he’s young he’s still a senior in high school so what?”. she quickly defends.

“girl that ain’t gonna work. you’re in college you have to level up”.

“my boyfriend is fine. he’s all the leveling up I need”.

“mhm. we’ll see about that. anyways, I’m going to my girlfriend’s suite later you should come”.

“suite?”.

bria rolls her eyes. “girl relax we’re not going to be doing anything illegal. just chilling. maybe a little drinking or smoking but--i wouldn’t call that illegal”.

“drinking and smoking? I’ll pass”.

“you don’t have to do it. you’re acting like there’s going to be people there forcing you. it’s going to be her friends and a little bit of mine. if you want to make some lit friends quickly then I suggest you come so you can get yourself out there a little”.

“don’t worry. I can make friends in my classes”.

“aren’t you a biology major?”.

“yeah”.

“then you definitely need to come. or else you’re going to be playing battle of the nerds these next four years”.

gabrielle rolls her eyes, “what’s your major anyways?”.

“fashion design”.

gabrielle nods her head in response. that made a whole lot of sense.

“so? gabby? you coming or what because if so I want to see what you’re wearing”.

“it’s just a suite gathering right? I’m not trying to wear nothing special. probably like a sweater, some ripped jeans and sneakers”.

“pft ‘gathering’. you are so proper. outfit sounds cute but don’t you want to wear something a little revealing? you need to get a new man”.

gabrielle rolls her eyes. “like i said before I’m happy with the guy I have. and no I don’t want to wear anything revealing, have these guys out here thinking that they’re going to get a chance to fuck me”.

“and what’s wrong with that?”.

“everything”.

“whatever. I’ll be back to come grab you later. be ready.”. bria prompts before swinging a bag over her shoulder and leaving the room. gabrielle rolls her eyes. she continues organizing the knick knacks on her desk, most importantly the picture of her and her boyfriend. she missed him dearly and with her college being two hours away from home she didn’t know what she was going to do away from him from so long. texting and facetiming helped but there was nothing like being around him. she huffs her breath though, trying to push the thought to the back of her mind until she was ready to think of it again.

when she started getting dressed she was thinking more and more about what bria was saying. she wanted to look like herself but she still wanted to look cute because at the end of the day, she didn’t know bria or her girlfriend’s friends. this would be their first impression of her so she wanted to make it count. she pulls a scrunchie through her ponytail in a half up half down hairstyle and throws on a couple of hand rings and necklaces to go along with her outfit. she wasn’t too keen on makeup but she did apply winged eyeliner and a bit of lipstick just to keep herself from looking too plain. she looked over at herself in the mirror almost one hundred times, posing so she could see herself from different angles. she wondered if she really looked as good as she thought she did.

“girl you ready--ou okay! so you want to get a new man tonight after all?”. bria says while barging in, scaring the hell out of gabrielle. “damn can you stop screaming? no I don’t want a new man. I just want to look nice”. bria smirks. “whatever. if we don’t leave now we’re going to get there hella late so let’s go”.gabrielle nods and takes her phone off it’s charger. it was getting kind of dark outside but she could already hearing laughing and playing inside the quads of campus. she figured night time was only the beginning of all the fun.

“so? how is it here for real?”. gabrielle asked while they were walking, bria held her phone in her face preparing to take a selfie. “it’s actually not that bad. it’s just like every other college. has it’s pros and cons but at the end of the day, it depends on who you know. as long as you surround yourself with lit people you’ll have a good time”. gabrielle nods. she wanted to surround herself with those kind of people but she needed to focus on her studies. in high school she wasn’t in the mix too much. so she didn’t really know how she was going to function being around them in college. for the most part she had good control over herself, so she wasn’t worried.

when bria said suite, gabrielle wasn’t taking it quite literal. she hadn’t known the seniors practically had two floor suites together. gabrielle had never felt the sudden urge to rush and be a senior in her life. the living room was full with a bunch of people which automatically gave gabrielle anxiety. bria kisses her girlfriend on the lips before intertwining her fingers with hers. “babe this is my roommate gabby. gabby this is my girlfriend diamond”. gabrielle gave her a shy greeting trying to figure out if everyone bria knew looked just as good as she did. diamond was also a fair-skinned doll. “she’s a freshman I’m trying to make her make some friends”. bria comments. “they roomed you with a freshman?”. diamond asks. “right? that’s what I thought. but don’t worry she’s gonna be lit soon”. gabrielle rolls her eyes and scans around the room. there were people in the living room and kitchen it seemed. there was music playing and some of them was drinking and/or smoking and some weren’t which gabrielle liked.

when scanning though she wasn’t expecting her eyes to land on a certain someone, or rather, a certain someone’s eyes to be landed on her. his hair was black and long down the nape of his neck and over his eyes a bit. he wore a black hoodie, black jeans and sneakers. his overall aesthetic was dark gabrielle noticed, he also had a couple of finger nails painted black and a large cuban linked necklace peeking from his hoodie collar. his lips were pink and supple and his eyes were deep set and light brown, boring into hers. needless to say gabrielle thought he was the most gorgeous thing she’s ever laid her eyes on. she looks away to avoid his gaze and he smirks in response.

bria went around introducing her to everyone before going elsewhere with diamond. it kind of scared gabrielle because now she was forced to fiend for herself. everyone seemed considerably chill though and welcoming, offering her blunts and drinks to which she kindly declined. they didn’t seem to care, instead talked to her about other things like asking her her major and telling her how pretty she was. and every so often she’d try to join in the conversation to stay on her toes. she thought college gatherings would be much more crazier than this, maybe some project X party type of scene. she was shocked to see how cool they actually were, and how easily she clicked with them. things didn’t start getting a little wilder until later when a bunch of them gathered in the middle of the floor to play a drunk spin the bottle game. something gabrielle declined also, well, her and others. specifically that guy that was staring at her earlier, whom was leaning on the wall talking to some of his friends. his eyes broke away from them and fled to her every so often, admiring how pretty she was. and if anyone knew heuning kai, which everyone had, they knew that girls like gabrielle were the type of girls he aimed for.

“I take it that you don’t drink or party often?”. he spoke lightly, making gabrielle almost freeze in place. his voice was smoother than she imagined it. subtle, yet serious. “um--yeah it’s not really my thing”. she assures nervously, wanting more than anything to detach from his eyes but he was leaning on the kitchen counter near her and he had this addictive gaze that she couldn’t get enough of. not to mention he was six feet even, tall enough to be quite intimidating over her five foot five frame. “what’s your name?”. he smirked a little at her nervous fidgeting. “gabrielle”. he nods. “hm. gabrielle. you pretty. you know that?”. he took a quick sip of his drink and it was there where she noticed the silver rings around his fingers. why the hell was he so attractive?

“thank you”.

“i don’t really do all of this either. maybe we can chill somewhere together”.

gabrielle scoffs. “no, I’m fine. I know what guys mean when they say they want to chill. and I’m not that type of girl”.

“I’m not the type of guy to beat around the bush. if i wanted something from you I would’ve just said it. but”, he shrugs. “I want to hang with you. and if you don’t want to that’s fine”.

she bit the inside of her cheeks thinking, which was a bad move because by the the time she conjured up an answer he already walked off, leaving her feeling kind of stupid and the scene ate at her for days. she kept thinking of other answers she could’ve given him to make her seem less rude. he probably hated her now and thought she was uptight. one thing’s for sure she wasn’t going to tell bria about this just to avoid the teasing and taunting about it all. but gabrielle couldn’t help herself. she found herself wanting heuning kai’s attention. she wanted to be the girl that he desired. and ever since that night it seemed as if she saw him everywhere.

“he’s so fucking cute--”. her seatmate mutters in philosophy, gabrielle was too busy doodling on the edge of her notebook sheet to pay attention. “who?”. she asked without even looking up. “him”.

she shifts her attention away from her paper and captures a sight of kai. his hair was parted over his eyes this time and he wore a white turtleneck underneath a black ripped jean jacket. he still had different fingernails of his painted black, and a thin silver necklace wrapped tightly around his neck. gabrielle watched as his hair sifted every time he walked. he was the type of gorgeous where every time you saw him it was like everything was happening in slow motion. he had the fair share of girls surround him and his guy friends who encouraged him to sit by them. while he was on his way to his seat his eyes locked with gabrielle’s for a swift moment. her heart raced. her seatmate tapped her vigorously. “girl! who was he looking at?! was he looking at you?”. she whispered excitedly. the professor arrives and sits his bag down on the desk in front of the class. “I don’t know”.

“I’m assuming you’re all coming to class with a fresh memory of the reading from last night”, professor witman started, “I want you to take out your notebooks, laptops, phones or whatever you use to take your notes on and I want to ask you this, would you rather be a big fish in a small pond or a small fish in a big pond? and why?”. he takes a piece of chalk and scrawls the letters on the blackboard. “I want you to be really thinking about this”. almost instantly gabrielle could see everyone writing or typing away. but she was too deep in thought. about the question, and about heuning kai. he stared at her like that frequently and she never knew what it meant. or how she could reproach him. she was far too intimidated to. maybe he would’ve shrugged her off. maybe he would’ve just flat out ignored her. he had enough clout and divine looks to deny anyone and still have a line of people waiting to date him. gabrielle just wanted to smack herself. what the hell was she doing thinking about him? she had a boyfriend back home. a boyfriend whose been loving her for almost two years now.

“heuning kai. share your thoughts”. professor witman directed. and like always, but much more literal now, all eyes were on the attractive tall boy at the back of the lecture hall.

“the way I see it it’s kind of like a double edged sword”, he talked with his hands and with certainty, “if you’re a big fish in a small pond you’re among the privileged. you have life going for yourself. you do the best at everything, you’re at the top of everyone’s list, you cross every t and dot every I. life is good. but at the end of the day it’s just because you’re in a small pond. outside of that pond you’re just a normal fish like everyone else. however if you’re a small fish in a big pond you’re hidden. no one really notices you, everyone looks over your intelligence, talents , and wit. there’s going to be people miles ahead of you and people miles behind you. but in this big pond there are big fish that you can learn from and help you overall grow as a person. so even though you’re a small, you’re gradually improving yourself. you’ve made mistakes and you harness them to your advantage. so yeah”, he continues. “I’d rather be a small fish”. all eyes rested back on the professor who nods his head in agreement. quite impressed with his answer.

“well said heuning. well said”.

he began calling on others but gabrielle kept her mind fixated on kai. there was no way he was attractive and smart at once. she never heard of that before. attractive and rebellious yes. attractive with horrible grades yes. but she never came across someone like kai before. she was intrigued.

"cute right? I think I'm going to ask him out". gabrielle heard a voice beside her while she was walking out of class. the sudden voice startled her a little, she wasn't expecting to be interrupted by anyone especially when she was staring at the boy for what it felt like the umpteenth time. she quickly tried to act like she was looking for someone. "ask who out?". gabrielle asks. the girl nudges her, directing her attention to the infamous rebel at the end of the hallway, talking and joking around with some of his boys. "kai", she nods with certainty, "I think I'm going to ask him to go out with me this weekend or something. then again I probably shouldn't have told you that. you probably were planning on doing the same thing". gabrielle quickly shakes her head no. "I wasn't actually I was trying to figure out which way to go for my next class". the girl curled her lips into a dubious grin of disbelief. "yeah right. you're telling me you're not attracted to heuning kai at all?". gabrielle pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "I never said that it's just I wasn't planning on asking him out or anything". the girl hummed. "yeah well don't tell anyone that I'm planning on doing that. I already know everyone else is going to try to rush to do it before I do". gabrielle fiddled with the corners of her notebook pages. "yeah no problem". and with that they parted ways. the girl went to meet him at the end of the hallway and gabrielle walked past them both, trying to process the fact that kai took a quick look in her eyes before he looked at the girl in front of him.

within a few weeks her newfound friend from her biology class observed her well. especially while they were walking in the quads. it seemed as if gabrielle couldn’t keep her eyes off of him. all the while he kept his attention elsewhere, either horsing around with his friends or talking to them.

“don’t tell me you’re falling for him too”. michelle insinuates.

“too?”,

“heuning kai has enough girls swooning over him that they all could probably wrap around this campus”.

“look at him. you don’t think it makes sense?”.

“well yeah it makes a whole lot of sense but you don’t want to get caught up with him. i heard he’s trouble“.

“what kind of trouble?”.

“trouble. why are you worried? i thought you had a boyfriend anyways”.

“I do but for some reason I just-- I can’t help who I’m attracted to”.

“well you need to. he’s no good”.

gabrielle exhales, listening. yet her eyes peered up at the boy anyways. what a mistake that was. she caught him doing the same thing. no smirk, no smile or anything. just a stare that captivated her enough to where the rest of the world blurred around her. she took heed to michelle’s advice for a couple of days, where she only focused on her school work and seeing what her boyfriend was up to back home. he was doing well and from the looks of his snapchat and instagram stories it seemed that he was having some fun of his own. he too was partying and hanging with friends also. it only made gabrielle think about the other possibilities. how was she so sure that he wasn’t with some other girl? or took interest in someone else? everything was so unclear while she was far away. she never took her boyfriend to be the cheating type. but the both of them were living in two separate worlds now. in his world he was still trapped in his high school lifestyle. but in hers, becoming appealing to heuning kai was all she could think about. and she hated it.

she drains the water out of her hair and fluffs it, throwing a bathrobe on to go to her room and study. she hoped bria wasn’t there because she really needed some alone time to collect her thoughts for a while. and let’s just say bria wasn’t the quietest person to study around. she twists the doorknob of the room and jumped back with shock, dropping her toiletries and clothes right in front of the door. it was heuning kai, relaxing on bria’s bed scrolling through his phone as if he belonged there. once his eyes laid on gabrielle’s he covers them with a hand and turns the opposite direction.

“heuning kai! what are you doing in here?”. “bria told me to meet her in here so she could give me the homework that’s due tomorrow. I’m not trying to be a pervert”. gabrielle squats to pick up her belongings, placing her clothes in her hamper and toiletries on her shelf. her heart was pounding through her ears almost but she tried her best to keep calm.

“well, she should’ve told me that. she didn’t tell you she had a roommate?”.

“well it’s common sense that she has a roommate but she made it seem as though you weren’t going to be here”. he says, speaking to the wall. gabrielle folds her arms.

“you know you can uncover your eyes. I’m not naked”. slowly but surely he reveals them, sliding his hand down his face until it was on his lap. their eyes met again, the same heart wrenching stare that they always gave each other at a distance. the one that made gabrielle just want to pass out right then and there. “why do you always do that?”. she mutters breaking the silence between them. “do what?”.

“stare at me. why do you always stare at me like that?”. she swallows nervously, afraid of the answer. “why do you always stare at me like that?”. he replies. she swallows again searching her mind for a response. how the hell does one tell someone that they stare at them because they want to be noticed without sounding too desperate? she didn’t want to sound that way. even though to an extent, she was.

she turns on her heels to place her phone on the charger, figuring maybe if she avoided his gaze she’d be able to think of something. kai licks his lips before he speaks again. “I like looking at pretty things”. by now her hands were practically shaking. she could’ve sworn he hated her by now. “what’s the matter with just telling someone that you think they’re pretty? you don’t think you’re going to look like a creep by just staring at them?”. kai shakes his head no. “whose to say I stare at everyone?”. she reaches into her drawer to grab some pajamas. she couldn’t believe she was even talking to him. “i thought you hated me”. she mutters. “why would I hate you?”. ,

“that night at diamond’s place. you walked off before I could even give you an answer”. kai thinks for a moment. “you made an assumption about me and brushed me off. and I’m not interested in courting girls who don’t want to be courted. so I left you alone”. “whose to say that I didn’t want to be courted?”. she blurted without even thinking. shit. she probably sounded desperate as hell right about now. “so tell me. what’s it going to be? because I’d love to take a pretty girl out on a date tomorrow night”. gabrielle played with her fingernails wanting to pinch herself. or run maybe. either way the question made her just want to curl into a ball and hide. “tell me who the pretty girl is and maybe she’ll provide an answer”. she shortly replies. kai laughs a little. “the pretty girl is you. go on a date with me”.

“mm - how do I know you’re not some serial killer or something?”. kai laughs again and god, how her heart fluttered at his laugh. “wouldn’t I have killed you already? we’ve been in the room alone for almost ten minutes now”. she nods and giggles soon after. “makes sense”.

“so yeah I have a car, maybe you can meet me at the side building tomorrow night? we don’t have to go anywhere far. downtown maybe”. gabrielle shrugs through the fact that she was practically dying inside. “that’s fine. does seven work?”. kai smiles a little. “seven is perfect”.

“damn kai how long you been waiting in here?”. bria marches in, more than late for the time she arranged with him. “since the time you gave me. by the time I turn this assignment in it’s going to be overdue”. bria playfully slaps him on the shoulder before sliding the homework sheet for him to copy out her folder. he laughs and rubs the spot in pain, “thank you mean ass”. she shoos her hand. “yeah whatever. get out my room I’m tired. did you say hi to my roommate on your way in?”. kai continues sliding his jean jacket over his arms before getting up to walk towards the door. he rolls his eyes. “yes I said hi. didn’t i say hi gabrielle?“. he smirks. she tried her best not to smile too hard. “yeah he did. get out like she said though. I’m tired too”. kai laughs and grabs the doorknob, “fine, I’m out”. bria was flipping him off but halfway between him closing the door he gave gabrielle a little smile that made her heart warm, almost as if to say “don’t forget about tomorrow night”.

which gabrielle hadn’t. hell, she straightened her hair hours prior just to prepare. she was happy that bria was out for almost the whole day, leaving her to get ready in peace. she wasn’t quite sure what to wear but she wanted to be comfortable. so instead of wearing a skirt or halter top she settled on a stylish oversized t shirt look with baggy pants and sneakers. and to be a little more girly, she grabbed a small purse. it was weird you know, just leaving her dorm and not having anyone to report to. not having to tell her mother or father that she was going out. not having to explain that she was going out with a boy and not them not having to meet him. it kind of felt nice and it was kind of freeing. she exhales deeply while walking to his car. he was parked where he said he was, in a car that was pretty gorgeous might she add. out of her dorm and now into the passenger seat of his car was an unbelievable feeling. that’s for sure. “you look pretty”. he compliments with a toothy smile that gabrielle couldn’t stop looking at. her cheeks flush deeply. “thank you. heuning”. he laughs at the name and shifts gears preparing to drive. “heuning”. he repeated. “just call me kai”.

“what if i like the sound of heuning?”. he laughs again. “no one does. but, if you do I wouldn’t mind you calling me that. it sounds cute coming from you”. she exhales for the umpteenth time, “please, with the flirting”. she smiles. he was truly killing her on the inside. “where are we going?”.

“shouldn’t that be a surprise? it will ruin the whole date if I told you”.

“how would it ruin the whole date? what if i want to prepare myself?”.

“you will. once we arrive”. she giggles and settles for his answer although she really wanted to know. cutting through her thoughts though was her boyfriend sending her multiple text messages at once. explaining to her how his day went and asking her how was hers. but while on a date he was the last thing she wanted to think about so she switched her phone to silent mode and shoved it back into her purse. “whose that? your boyfriend?”. kai jokes. she sat there with a frozen expression for a while until kai elbows her a little. “it’s just a joke relax”. he laughs. she tries her best to laugh through it when it really kind of scared her. she hadn’t planned on telling him a thing. especially since she really wasn’t obligated to. it wasn’t like heuning was her boyfriend anyways.

out of all places to take her an ice skating rink wasn’t on that checklist. she had no type of coordination, nevertheless skating in a rink full of pros. “have you ever been ice skating before?”. kai asks while slipping the money to the box office worker to pay for their tickets. he gives her a small thank you once she exchanged them. gabrielle shivers a bit, she forgot how cold the rink could be. maybe she shouldn’t have left her jacket in the car. “I have. i wouldn’t say I’m good though”. once their skates were all tied up kai slips his jean jacket off his arms and positions it behind her. “here put this on. you have to be warm when you skate don’t you?”. she shakes her head, “no it’s alright I got it. I think I’ll be fine”. he chuckles. “just put it on. I don’t want you getting a frostbite in here trying to be modest”. she finally gives in allowing him to slide her arms inside of it. it was much more oversized on her and warmer than any jacket she had in her closet. kai eyes the way the sleeves slip past the tips of her fingers, he thought it looked adorable on her.

stepping onto the ice was a brutal nightmare for her. she had no balance and hasn’t been ice skating in almost four years. before she could slip and fall to the ice in embarrassment kai catches her fall and lifts her back to her feet. “baby steps love. do you want to hold my hand maybe?”. her heart sank at the sound of his voice being so overwhelming when he was much closer to her. and as nervous as she was the last thing she wanted to do was fall. so she obliged. she clutched his hand and took glides with him, trying to get the hang of it but it was obvious that she was only surviving because of him. well kind of surviving. once a little boy zoomed past her it went downhill from there. she immediately lost balance and plopped right down on the ice on her butt. “this shit is embarrassing”. she shamefully admits and kai smiles. he squats down to her level and lifts her to her feet again. “it’s alright you just have to try harder.  do you want to hold my hand again coldbutt?”. kai chuckles and holds his hand out for her to grab. she rolls her eyes pretending to be annoyed with him. “not if you’re going to call me that”.

“okay fine. I won’t. come here stop being a baby”.

she takes his hand again and he guides her around the circumference of the rink slowly. she had her hands in front of her just in case though, trying to brace any future falls. “see? just carefully shift your weight around. it’s not that bad”.

“for you it isn’t. I almost died a couple of times. and you laughed”.

“i wasn’t laughing at you I was laughing with you”.

“I wasn’t even laughing!”. she said aloud with a light chuckle at the end of her sentence making kai chuckle as well. “you and bria must have a grand time together with your matching attitudes”.

“oh please. she gets on my nerves sometimes. how do you even know bria anyway? aren’t you a freshman?”.

“sophomore. and I know everyone”. she scoffs. “oh yeah of course. you’re thee heuning kai“. kai hums. “why are you emphasizing my name like that?”. she shrugs. “that’s how everyone else emphasizes it”.

he swallows. “I’m not what everyone says I am”. 

“I figured”. 

“you figured?”. she points. “yeah look at your face. you have too much of a baby face to do anything rebellious”. kai chuckles, “what’s that saying? don’t judge a book by it’s cover?”.

“yeah. I’m just saying. why you single anyway? with all those girls after you”. kai shrugs, gripping her hand a little tighter sensing that she was drifting off and on the verge of falling again. “I don’t want them”. gabrielle makes a pft noise.

“what?”.

“you mean to tell me out of all the thousands of girls that want you, you’re taking interest in absolutely none of them?”. kai looks away for a second before looking back down at her. “I’m taking an interest in you aren’t I?”. gabrielle waddles for a second before standing straight up, trying to glide her feet again. “oh please. who said I even wanted you?”.   

   “why would you be on a date with someone you don’t want?”. she playfully rolls her eyes. “whatever heuning”. he glides in front of her, facing her and skating backwards, holding her hands that way. “how about we do it like this?”. he starts picking up his pace leaving her dragging with him. “wait! slow down a little”. he grins. “the only way you’re going to learn is if you take risks”. she panics. “I’m not playing you’re going to make me bust my ass on this ice”. he grins a little more and completely lets go of her hands skating circles around her making her dizzy and unstable. she tries her best to stay afloat but every time she looked up he was at another angle around her. she laughs. “stop playing! I’m going to fall“. he laughs along with her and continues his 360 circles until she put out a hand in attempt to push him out her way. he instead grabbed her wrists and leans forward so that she was dangling from his back. “come on hop up”. he coaxes, she breathed watching her breath become frost in the wintry air. "I'm too fat for that. please".

“oh shut up”. he hiked her legs up around his waist and dashed around the rink a couple more times, she had to admit it was fun riding on his back like this. more fun than she thought it would be. it was kind of like she was riding on a sleigh of some sort. she was nervous though, she hasn't really been carried by anyone before and it shocked her that heuning didn't care much about her weight. in a way she felt seen. she felt more appreciated. “heuning if we fall I’m beating your ass”. he chuckles. “why would I put you on my back if I knew there was a chance I’d drop you?”. he turns his head to the side to look over his shoulder at her features, never minding the fact that his lips were dangerously close to hers. she melted into the warmth of his eyes. they were pretty. so were his lips. so was his face. his voice was soothing and he was gentle with her. she turned her head the other direction to keep herself from becoming too flustered. “I’m hungry”. she babbles switching the subject of focus.

she begged for the bill but kai refuse to let her pay for her own food. had she known, she would've gotten something cheaper. but nevertheless the black haired boy was pooling out cash to pay for not only his own but her expensive meal as well. he clutches the tray and stuffs his wallet in his back pocket. he shoves one of his fries in his mouth heading towards the table. “are you mad at me coldbutt? I’m not letting you pay for your own food on a date. what kind of gentleman would I be”. he assures with his mouth full. she crosses her arms again pretending to be annoyed at the pet name. it was cute. she just wasn't going to admit that. “heuning i’m not afraid to fight you. you know that?”. he laughs when he sits down across from her. “so aggressive”. she grabs her slushie cup. “thank you though. you’re actually nicer than I thought you’d be”. he chews on another fry. “am I? thank you”. she carefully dips a nacho chip in it’s cheese. “so. heuning kai. if you’re not the person that people portray you to be, who are you?”.  he pulls a couple of napkins out of the dispenser and wipes the excess cheese from the corner of her lips while she chewed. “that’s for gabrielle to find out isn’t it?”. he finished his sentence with a smile so bright it could've blinded her.

and yeah, i guess you could say bria was right. how dumb was gabrielle to come to college with a boyfriend. every time she had a bit of free time she was out, spending it with kai. she felt like she was in high school again, waiting for his texts and swooning over the selfies he often sent her. she thought about him in her passing time. thinking about how she gotten lucky enough to catch a guy like him. as much as she wanted to deny it she was a bit happier too. god, it felt like she was obsessing over some celebrity. she didn’t want to make love and relationships the center of her college life. she came here to study and do well after all. but she couldn’t help herself. 

she scrawls down her biology notes in the cafè with michelle in between classes. she had another class in about an hour or two and she wanted to have some downtime before then. “wait--do you know how to solve this?”. she questions, feeling completely out of focus. michelle eyes her paper and slides it toward herself and nods. she plucks up a pencil so she could show her. the bell at the top of the door chimes and in walks a couple of guys laughing and goofing off with heuning kai following behind. gabrielle’s eyes were soon fixated on his and he notices of course, and gave her a soft smile. she was studying so he didn’t want to go over and bother her. michelle follows her line of sight and scoffs. “gabby are you listening?”. gabrielle nods. “I’m listening I only looked away for one second relax”. she turns her attention back to the paper for a while prior to looking up again, seeing a group of girls surround kai.

he was good looking, it was normal for that to happen. at least that’s what gabrielle was trying to convince herself. but even if she wasn’t fond of the attention he so often got, she had no place to say anything because she wasn’t kai’s girlfriend. he wasn’t required to claim her. technically, he was still on the market. and there was nothing she could do about that.

“I think it could be a good way for you to mingle”. bria spoke in front of the mirror. gabrielle was too lost in her thoughts to listen to her though and once she finally heard the last word of bria’s sentence she jumped. “huh?”. bria turned back to look at her oddly. “girl you okay? you been out of it”. gabrielle sits up and sits her textbook on her lap. “I’m fine. what were you saying?”. “I was inviting you to a party but you seem a little too out of it to come....you sure you alright?”.

“I’m fine I’m just tired. and you know I don’t do parties anyway I already told you that”. bria swings her bag over her shoulder. “well excuse me I was just trying to invite yo-”. cutting through her sentence was a knock at the door. she went to open it and there was kai, hitting her on the head with his homework binder. “bri I need the study guide answers”. she throws a hand on her hip. “when are you going to start doing your own homework? nobody got time to be feeding you sheet after sheet”. she starts going through her drawers and kai rolls his eyes while her back was turned. kai peered over at gabby who in turn was peering over at him. “here. you’re about to make me late”. she handed him the packet and he snatches it playfully giving her a soft thank you. she gives him another eye roll and grabs her phone off her bed. “I’ll be back gabby”. she scurries past kai and out the door leaving him standing there awkwardly in the middle of the room.

“so? how was your day?”. he spoke trying to break the silence. “heuning if you’re going to be into other girls while you’re ‘interested’ in me then we can just stop this”. he exhales, already knowing that was coming. “I’m not into them. I can’t help who approaches me. plus haven’t I told you that I don’t beat around the bush? if i was into someone else I’d just tell you”. he plops down at the edge of her bed. she pushes his thigh with her foot. “whatever”. she turns her body over as if she was preparing to sleep. “aw. you’re jealous?”. he teases. she kicks his thigh a little harder. “stop it heuning”. he rubs her ankles. “my pretty girl is jealous isn’t she?”. she grasps a pillow and hits him over the head with it. he chuckles and caged her body between his arms, hovering over her. she refused to look him in the eyes though. he was much too good looking this close. he twirled his finger around the coils of her hair. “gabrielle. look at me. you know you want to”. he could see the small smile twitch at the corner of her lips. “no I don’t. get out”. he cups her cheek with his hand. “you’re so pretty”. she stifled blushes from rising through her cheeks. she finally turns over with his face just inches from hers. he looked just how she imagined him to be. utterly breathtaking. “I’m sick of you”. she lies, making kai smile. he deposits a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“no you’re not. and if you are that sucks. I wanted to take you out”. she rubbed shapes into his sharp jawline with her thumbs. “hm. where did you want to take me?”. “and why would I tell you that? you’re sick of me remember?”. he teases pretending that he was going to get off of her but she only pulled him back down begging him to stay. “no wait I was just kidding! I was kidding stop”. he laughs at her pleas and takes a glimpse in her eyes. it was moments like this where he enjoyed the silence. the silence that allowed him to admire her in every way that he could. in ways that her boyfriend hadn’t. the butterflies inside her stomach were on a rampage. he leaned in not too far but just enough for her to meet him halfway. he didn’t want to just go for it if she wasn’t onboard. but she was and she meets him with hesitance, shadowing her lips over his. he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, making the connection of their lips painfully slow. but once they touched, magic was there. electricity sparked through her veins as his lips waltzed upon hers, dissociating her from the world and taking her to another reality. a reality where she was finally living the life she always wanted to live. not being known as the smart chubby girl and finally feeling normal. finally feeling like she deserved a love story of her dreams. whenever he broke away her world shattered. but she was always grateful for him distracting her from life's troubles for that moment.

"you ready to go? love?". he questions while still caressing her.

the burger joint was loud and rowdy but that was expected among college kids. the bar was full with drunk students watching the heated sports games and yelling obnoxiously without reason. gabrielle was grateful that was here at least with kai so it wouldn't bother her much. other than the reprehensible students she enjoyed the vibe of the place. it looked like something straight out of a 90's film with the pink neon glow lights and old license plates and polaroids hanging along the walls. "this place is nice huh?". gabrielle nods across the table from him, dipping her fry in the small cup of ketchup. "yeah it is. how do you find these places on campus?". kai shrugs, taking the tomato off his burger. "when you hang out with upperclassmen they show you the hotspots. I mean other than those drunk ass students over there this place is actually nice". gabrielle laughs. she remembers something. "so? when am I going to find out about you?". kai folds his arms on the table. "you think you still don't know me?".

"no i feel like I don't", she takes a minute to swallow her food, "I think you're too perfect. what's the catch? are you crazy or something?". kai laughs at her accusations. "no I'm not crazy. this is just me. I'm really a genuine guy and I want to start something with you. perhaps a relationship if I could". she hums even though it was kind of inaudible over the roaring music. "why me? that's what really raises a red flag in my head. I remember just a couple of weeks ago, this girl from our philosophy class told me that she was going to ask you out and she told me not to tell anyone. I guess what I'm trying to say is, why not her? why not the others". kai waits until his food was chewed and swallowed before he spoke. "what is with you and these others? I told you I don't want them. and the girl you're talking about is clara. she asks everyone out if you haven't noticed. I'm surprised she hasn't asked you out yet". gabrielle laughs a bit. "I'm sorry It's just I'm not the best looking and I know that. so in my mind me and you just don't make sense". he takes a sip of his milkshake. "gabrielle stop it. you're beautiful and I'm attracted to you. you make perfect sense". her cheeks began to flush but she ignored them of course. "well riddle me this because I'm curious. what do you want out of life heuning?". he gives a half smile and adjusts his seating. "I want love".

"love?".

"yes. why are you shocked?".

"most guys want you know, to be famous. to have lots of money. a big ass mansion somewhere. sexy super model ass wife. a pitbull or two".

"that sounds nice. but is it fulfilling though?".

"well...I'd think so".

"most guys want that because they want their ego to be stroked in every aspect of their life. there's highs and lows in life but they don't want to see the low of anything. no one wants to, really. but you have to. and when you put your ego first before everything, you become nothing. while a garage full of expensive cars and a mansion on a mountain side sounds nice, those things get old. I want something that never gets old. something that's timeless. like love". gabrielle's heart flutters and she got lost in the sea of his eyes again. "so above all else, love is what you aim for?". he nods. "i want to love someone the way I wish someone loved me". there was a swift moment of silence before he spoke again. "how about you? what do you want out of life?". she thoughtlessly shakes her head. "I don't even know how to respond to the question anymore after you said that. I'm very much questioning my morality now". he laughs. "what? did you want money and cars and a hot wife?". he jokes while dipping a fry into honey mustard. before gabrielle could answer she was interrupted by a drunk girl, approaching the table and grabbing the hem of kai's sweater before she sat beside him. "i m-missed yoooou kai", she pouts and leans in, giving him clumsy kisses along his neck. he annoyingly pushes her off. "jessica get off me. you're drunk and you need to go home". she pouts her lips again. "when are you coming back to me?". gabrielle was grateful for another guy reaching for the girl's wrists and helping her out the seat. he seemed to be her much sober friend. "come on we're leaving. leave them alone". she blew kai kisses before she staggered away.

gabrielle kept silent while taking a bite of her burger and wiping her face shortly after. kai only stared at her, sensing that she may have felt some type of way about the situation. "look, she's just an ex. I haven't been seeing her at all". she swallows. "I know, heuning. I'm not angry". that's what she said, but kai felt otherwise. he reaches his hand across the table just to intertwine his fingers with hers. "come on. let's ditch this place I got something to show you". she furrows a brow. "this late at night?". he took out his wallet and pooled out some cash to stamp on the table for their meals. "yeah. it's hilarious trust me".

with the utmost confusion gabrielle takes his lead and his word for it. the campus was rather dark at night with a light here and there but lights were often hard to come by. this is what made gabrielle the most scared while she was running through the woods in the darkened quads with kai, with him tugging on her wrist egging her on. "heuning slow down! I'm scared what if I fall?". she whispered with her heart racing and all she could hear was the leaves and twigs snapping beneath her and kai's moving feet. he chuckles. "you're not going to fall stop being a scaredy cat. we're almost there". she tried to ignore every ounce of fear she withheld until they were finally approaching a small light at the side of a building. she was still catching her breath while she was nearing what looked to be a small window low at the base of the building. kai was crouching down right beside it, waving her over and pushing his index finger to his lips to silence any further noise she made. "I'm about to fucking die". she gasps for air and kai shushes her again to point to the window.

she peaks her head in just a tad bit to see a security guard in the back of an empty library at his desk on the computer. gabrielle shrugs her shoulders. "you made me run through the fucking woods just to show me this?". kai laughs and points again. "no look. look at the computer screen". gabrielle takes another look and scrunches her eyes a bit. her heart dropped at what she saw and she immediately tucked her head into kai's chest in disgust. "ew! that's so fucking digusting". kai laughed at her reaction as quiet as he could. "this old guy watches all kinds of shit. felching porn is his favorite". she shivered at the thought. "I just don't see what's arousing about seeing someone suck semen through a straw out of someone else's ass". kai shrugs and peers through the window again. "to each their own I guess?". she fixed her lips to reply but felt something crawling along her leg and she panicked, she gripped kai's shirt. "heuning! something is on me something is fucking on me". he looked down at her body but it was hard to see any creepy crawlers due to the lack of lighting around. "calm down calm down, I don't really see anything". whatever bug it was had quickly made it's way into the palm of her hand and it felt abnormally large and furry. she freaked out, flailing her body around and in turn kicked the window, gaining the attention of the security guard who quickly closed the tab and got up hastily to go outside and chase after them. "oh shit! come on". kai shrieked pulling her upwards to her feet and tugging her through the woods once again. by now she was wiping her hand on the pants of her jeans running as fast as she could go wanting to just pass the hell out.

sweat trickled down her forehead and she struggled to breathe. after moments of running they were finally out in the open in the quads, which was a terrible mistake because their movement set the sprinklers off. she wanted to get agitated but she couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous kai looked trying to block the projectile shooting water from hitting him when his body was already drenched. "heuning stop you look like an idiot". his hand was still in hers when his feet slipped on the wet grass underneath an oak tree, causing their wet bodies to fall on top of one another. they breathlessly laughed at their efforts of trying to get up but eventually slipping due to how wet the grass and the bottom of their shoes actually were. normally gabrielle would get mad about wetting some of her favorite clothes and wetting her hair even. but for some reason she didn't care. kai sat up on his elbows once he finished laughing, taking a minute to admire her even in the messy, muddy condition that she was in. she removes her glasses trying find a dry part of her shirt to dry them with and he strings his hand through her tangled hair. "you look like a beautiful disaster". he commented with a small grin. she blushes trying not to smile. "yeah well, it's your fault anyway. had me watching an old guy beat his dick to felching porn". kai laughs and pulls her in so that her face was adjacent to his own. he brushed his thumb over the tiny water droplets on her cheeks and waited for her lips like he always had. she got lost again. swept into the sea of his eyes and the heat of the moment, clashing her lips onto his once again.

"girl look, there he goes again". her seatmates jeers in philosophy, watching kai enter the room like she always had. gabrielle continues doodling. "you say that shit everyday. give it a rest". she starts eagerly tapping gabrielle in excitement, "oh shit he's coming over here". by the time gabrielle looked up she saw kai standing in front of her, smiling, plopping his things into the seat right beside hers. it took everyone by shock, gabrielle knew it even though no one had quite said anything. but she knew they were surprised that he was sitting beside someone else today. a girl in particular. "why are you looking at me all weird?". he grins before sitting. "I wasn't expecting you to sit next to me". he dug around in his bag for his utensils and notebooks. he was wearing a black oversized zipper hoodie and a graphic band t shirt. looking just as attractive as he did any other day. "I can't sit next to you? were you saving this seat for your other lovers?". when he said that it made her mind resort to her boyfriend, whom she hasn't texted in a while. she quickly shook the thought out of her mind though and playfully punches kai's shoulder. "oh shut up. you're the only one with other lovers here". kai laughs, "see now you shut up". professor witman finally arrives and sits his things on the desk at the front of the room like he always had. he began speaking briefly about the reading from last night. kai rests his head on his hand. half paying attention to what the professor was saying and half sneaking glances at gabrielle, whose beauty he admired so much.

"girl are you and kai... a thing?". her seatmate whispers discreetly. gabrielle didn't quite know how to respond to that. she keeps a blank expression. "something like that, I guess you could say". she responds but still unsure if that was the right answer either. kai nudges her. "so? you and me tonight at my dorm? what you think?". gabrielle was still doodling along the edges of her pages. "I think it's time that I catch up on my chemistry notes once and for all. that's what I think".

"well after you catch up? take your time it's no rush. my roommate is going to be out for the night so. maybe we can watch movies?".

he raised his intonation like a kid convincing their mom to buy them candy at a candy store. it was adorable to say the least. needless to say, she was at his dorm like he asked that night with no further questions. it was kind of fun being out often to be honest. it gave her a break from her studies at least. entering kai's room though was something she never thought she'd be doing throughout her whole four years here. but here she was, plopping on his bed and gazing around at the posters and decals he had plastered on his side of the room. it was pretty neat to be honest. organized too. "you like it?". he questions while standing in front of the tv with the remote controller in his hand. he was switching through the selection of films. "yeah. to be an active student here your room is actually clean". kai chuckles with his eyes still fixated on the tv screen. "what are you trying to say? that I'm dirty?". she pushes her glasses up a little. "no but--the fact that you have time to keep it neat while doing everything you do. I expected it to be a little messier than this at least".

"you really think I'd invite a pretty girl in my room and leave it messy? you're crazy". gabrielle hums, "so what are we going to watch?". kai grins. "I should make you watch something sappy like the notebook". gabrielle scoffs. "please heuning. let's watch something funny". kai continues flipping until he finally settled on dumb and dumber. he sits the remote down and walks to the bed, grabbing the pizza boxes off his nightstand and sitting them between them. "you can eat as much as you want. I think I bought a little too much". she opens the box and laughs. "boy I'm not about to sit here and scarf down all this pizza. I have enough weight that I have to lose". kai chews into a slice. "where?". she deadpans him before gesturing towards her tummy. “right here. you don’t have to act like you don’t see it. it’s okay”.

“well, I don’t. you think every time I look at you I’m thinking about your weight?”.

“yeah. chubbier people have anxiety when it comes to our weight”.

“I think you look fine. And I’m never looking at you like that so don’t worry. eat all you want”.

“I’m going to throw this pizza at your face”.

kai chuckles at her response. “what? why? why are you so aggressive?”.

“you’re sweet. I don’t know how to respond other than being aggressive. I don’t want the moment to get too soft”.

“just kiss me”.

“heuning, that’s a soft response”.

“I know I just want a kiss from you”. he admits, she thought it was kind of cute the way he asked. “maybe when we’re finished eating”. kai held her to that though and made sure she cuddled with him as soon as they were finished just so he could get the promised kisses. his chest was comfy and warm, and she always felt safe in his grip.

she thought for a moment. “heuning?”.

“hm?”. he hummed with his eyes still fixed on the tv screen. she toys with his hoodie strings. “give me three confessions about yourself. go”. he chuckles but kindly obliged. “okay well 1. I hate math. 2. I have a horrible ‘losing my virginity story’ and 3. I think I’m actually a very lonely person”. gabrielle laughs and perched her head up just to look at him. “okay the first one I understand. but you’re lonely and your first time didn’t go good?”.

“yeah. I mean I have friends and everything but. I just feel like I’m not fully connected with them sometimes. feel like we’re all just there to entertain each other. and as for my first time, well. that shit was a nightmare”.

“I feel you. I know the feeling. It kind of feels like you’re just floating. but I guess that comes with growing up. you just have to find your people. don’t think that I’m not going to ask you to share your story though. I’m curious”.

kai laughs. “you’re right I guess I do have to find my people. so far, I think you’re my person”.

“do you mean that or are you just saying that to distract me from telling me the story?”.

“no I’m serious”.

“well I think you’re my person too heuning”.

kai scoffs, “pft. heuning”.

“hey you said I can call you that. and tell me the story please”. kai playfully groans. “no it’s too embarrassing”.

“it can’t be that bad”.

“how about this? if you tell me yours I’ll tell you mine?”. she reaches up to cup his cheek. “how am I going to tell you mine when I don’t have one?”. kai breathes and brushes his thumb over the back of her hand. “you’re precious gabrielle”. she hums while swimming in his eyes again. “why? because I’m a virgin?”.

“no. you’re just pure. I think it’s precious. don’t let anyone pressure you into doing it alright? It’s okay to wait”. gabrielle nods in a daze. “everyone always says that shit. wait until you’ve found the right person. but how would you even know whose the right person. what if you do it and then things don’t work out with them and then you find the right person later on in life”. kai thinks for a moment. “I think it’ll just happen without thought”. gabrielle chuckles. “don’t be cheesy”. he smiles. “I’m not being cheesy I’m just saying. you’re always being mean to me”.

“aw? are you getting sensitive?”. she playfully mocked like kai always did. “no I’m not I’m just saying”. she walks her fingers up his chest teasingly. “my heuning is sensitive for me isn’t he?”. Kai looked rather cute when he was blushing. a red hue splotched around his cheeks. “I’m not sensitive”. she perks her lips up to peck him on the cheeks which he greatly appreciated since he loved her kisses dearly. they made his heart flutter. “kiss me again”. he begged.

“and just where the hell have you been?”. Bria asked finally seeing gabrielle come into their room after her morning shower. “I’ve been here. you the one that’s been going out. that’s why you don’t see me”. Bria gives her the best ‘yeah right’ grin. she continues tidying up her side of the room. “well since you don’t be doing anything diamond is having people over at her suite again. same crowd. you should come through this time”. gabrielle looks in her wardrobe to find some clothes. she felt kind of weary. “honestly I’m beat. I need to nap or something before I do anything else. I don’t know if I can go”. wait. if it was the same crowd that meant kai was going to be there. she quickly changed her mind. “I’ll try to make it though”. Bria tosses one of her dresses in her hampers. “good. I’m glad you’re being more open to going out”. well she really wasn’t. just more open to going wherever kai was. when she arrived he was sitting on the couch in the living room conversing with a few of his friends. everyone was sporadic as usual, either in the kitchen drinking, in the living room, playing games somewhere, or upstairs. kai was more than happy to see her especially when she plopped down on the couch right beside him.

Bria eyed the way he smiled at her and she grinned. “oop don’t get yourself caught up kai! she has a boyfriend you know”. she blurts while making her way upstairs. gabrielle’s heart dropped and her eyes widened. she was lucky no one else in the room knew what was going on so they continued with their festivities. but kai’s smile disappeared. “what is she talking about?”. she tried to wave it off. “that’s just bria. you know she be saying anything”. the cold look that he gave her right after that line made her world stop. “gabrielle? what is she talking about?”. she swallows before responding. she knew she had to tell the truth or things would be much worse. “I kind of.. have a boyfriend heuning but -“.

“kind of have a boyfriend? what the hell does kind of have a boyfriend mean? how long have you had a boyfriend?”. kai looked sweet when he was smiling but god, when he’s angry he’s lethal. his sharp stare could split her in two. “we’ve been dating since high school”. he clenched his jaw. “so you’ve had a boyfriend this whole entire time? and you didn’t bother telling me? so what were you trying to play me or something?”. she quickly grew nervous. “no it isn’t like that I was going to break up with him I swear”. she tried to explain herself but he was already getting up, making his way out of the house with a slamming door.

good. she felt like complete shit. this is exactly what she needed. she didn't mean for it to all happen like this. she was really going to break up with him but it was hard doing that to someone you've been in a relationship with for years. the party for gabrielle was essentially ruined. she didn't even want to be there anymore. well, she didn't really want to be anywhere anymore. kai hadn't responded to her texts and calls for days on end. even when she apologized. and even when she lied and said she broke up with her boyfriend. nothing worked. seeing him in the quads was quite different now, he didn't make eye contact with her even when she tried to make it with him. instead he continued talking to his friends, continuing on whatever conversations he was having. while they were in the library michelle could sense that gabrielle was a little more off than usual. she finally laid her pencil down and addressed her. "alright gabby. what's the matter?". gabrielle continued writing with her attention on her paper. "nothing I'm fine".

"oh please. you've been more down than usual lately. what happened? what did kai do?".

"he didn't do anything. it's my fault".

"your fault? what did you do?".

"he found out I had a boyfriend".

"gabby? you didn't tell him that?".

"it's not that easy michelle. I wasn't expecting all of this shit to happen. hell, I wasn't even expecting kai to even ask me out".

"you've been hanging with kai for weeks now. you don't think you had time to tell him in between any of those times?".

she deadpans her. "how do you have time to tell someone that? in the middle of dates you think I'm just like hey I really like hanging with you and I'm starting to like you but I have a boyfriend".

"you could've said something. you have his number right? you could've made it easier on yourself and said it through a text message or something".

"but I was planning on breaking up with him. i swear I was".

"either way you should've told him".

gabrielle sighs. shit. she should've. michelle was right. but how would the timing ever be right to tell someone that? her mind was swarming with ideas for how she could resolve everything. she waited patiently after philosophy class. even though her heart was practically pounding through her eardrums she exhaled before she approached him down the hallway. for the first time he didn't smile when he saw her. he looked at her as if she was every other girl that approached her.

"what do you want gabrielle?".

"heuning. I'm sorry. that was wrong of me to just continue on with this without telling you. i wasn't trying to be two timing I just didn't know how I was going to do it. when I'm with you I don't think about him, i forget about him".

"I'm glad then. this time away is probably finally getting you to remember him again?". he spoke calmly while walking away, out of the doors of the building and to the parking lot where his car was. gabrielle followed.

"it's not like that. why the hell would I try to play you? after all you've confided in me, why would I play with your feelings like that?".

"why don't you ask yourself that question?". he pulled open his car door.

"you're acting stupid as shit right now. for real. you should basically know me by now. I would never intentionally do something like that to you".

"why would you go on a date with me if you knew you had a boyfriend? huh? when I first asked you, you knew full well you were with someone. all of this could've been avoided if you told me the truth".

"go on a date?". a familiar voice repeated behind her. she quickly turned her head to see her boyfriend, noah.

"noah what are you doing here?".

"I drove up here thinking that since it's been a while, I should take you out or spend some time with you. I didn't think you'd be up here seeing somebody else".

"noah it's not like that I swear to god. we have to talk".

"this is what you wanted to happen right gabrielle? you didn't want to break up with him and you didn't want to tell me so you got what was coming to you. go deal with that. I have problems of my own to deal with". and with that kai got in his car, pulling off and driving away before gabrielle could say anything else. she shamefully turned back to noah who looked so disappointed that it actually broke her heart.

"you promised me that even while you were away your love wouldn't stop for me. and then you go do this shit. I'm done gabrielle".

"my love didn't stop for you".

"you don't do that to people you claim you love. I hope you're enjoying it here". she stretched her arm to grab his wrists but he shrugged her off and walked back to his car, leaving her feeling absolutely stupid by herself. her face felt extremely hot on her way back to her dorm and she didn't want to look up because she already knew her eyes were rimming with tears.

"girl? you alright? what's wrong?". upon entry bria could already sense that someone was off. and since gabrielle was in the comfort of her room now she figured she might as well let her tears fall. "you remember that night you told kai that I had a boyfriend?". bria nods before a lightbulb went off in her head. she covers her mouth. "gabby. don't tell me he didn't know. ya'll was talking?".

"yes. we've been hanging out for a while now and we've been into each other. I didn't tell him about noah. so when you said that it pissed him off. he didn't talk to me for days and then finally today when I confronted him, noah decides to show up and overhear us. he broke up with me. and now kai wants nothing to do with me because he thinks I was two timing him".

out of guilt bria pulls her roommate in for a hug. "I swear I didn't know I'm sorry that's my bad. why didn't you tell me you and kai was talking? you know I joke around a lot. I wouldn't have said shit if he didn't know".

"I was scared to tell you because I knew you would tease me about it and to be honest I was just ashamed of the fact that you were right. I shouldn't have came to college with a boyfriend if I've never really been on the dating scene before. when kai asked me out I didn't think about any of that shit".

"girl. this is a mess and is one of the reasons why I don't deal with men and their attitudes. and if it makes you feel any better I could understand why you didn't think about noah when kai asked you out. that boy is fine as hell".

gabrielle playfully punched her in the arm with a small laugh. "shut up bria. I know and I feel bad. like why would I play kai? who in their right mind would play kai?".

bria curls her glossed lips into a small smirk. "aw? you're in love with kai? aren't you?".

gabrielle ignores her to keep from blushing. " this is not the time. I just got broken up with".

bria laughs and tugs on gabby's cheeks. "aw my gabby is in love! I'm so mad that you didn't tell me about this. how did this all even happen?".

"I'd tell you if I wasn't in shambles. he probably doesn't even want to talk to me anymore".

"girl bye. I don't date men anymore but trust me when I did, one thing I learned is that if they like you they'll never leave you alone. that boy is just a little mad now. he's not going to stay mad forever".

gabrielle moves a pillow to the other side of her bed. "yeah, well. until then I'm just going to go to sleep. I need a nap after this shit".

"aw. well I'm going to get some food later. you want me to bring you back anything?".

gabrielle shakes her head no while clutching a pillow, ready to drift off. she wasn't keeping track of how long she slept but she just wanted to sleep long enough to where she could forget about everything. or at least to where everything didn't hurt as much. when she woke up her forehead was clammy and her room was dark, not a sign of bria anywhere. she figured she stayed over at diamond's. she turns the lamp on beside her bed and was greeted by a food tray container sitting on her nightstand. she didn't know what was in it but she was grateful for bria. maybe she wasn't as obnoxious as gabrielle made her seem.

she couldn't eat though, not right now at least. she couldn't stop thinking about what happened earlier which kind of pissed her off since she thought sleep could lessen the blow. but her heart ached just as much as it did when she was awake. she thought about what bria said. she's right. if kai liked her then there was no way he could stay angry. with that being said gabrielle discarded every bit of fear she had and threw on more comfortable clothes and made her way to his dorm. it was late so she wasn't expecting him to answer but she hoped he would. she knocked softly and her heart pounded with each knock. she didn't know what he would do or even say if he saw her.

to her surprise there was light shuffling behind the door before it opened, revealing kai in an oversized grey hoodie and messy hair. his face was flushed and he looked as though he were crying too. but she didn't want to make any assumptions. he folded his arms, not expecting to see her at his door at all. "what? what do you want?".

"I know you've probably heard this one thousand times from me but heuning I'm sorry. honestly. what I did was shitty. I should've told you. I only didn't because like I said, when I'm with you I don't think about noah, or anyone else for that matter. when I first moved into this school me and noah made a promise that even while I was away we'd stay together. so when I got here i had no expectations of being interested in someone else. but you make me feel things I've never felt before and I didn't know how I was going to tell him that I fell in love with someone else. I'm in love with you. and I'll admit that". she croaked. she didn't want to cry. no-- she was going to try and stay strong. kai starts swiping her tears away with his thumbs.

"don't cry gabrielle. i wasn't doing any of that to hurt you but I was angry because I thought you were trying to hurt me", he presses a kiss into her forehead. "I'm in love with you too". he pulls her in for a warm hug. "cmon. I have a place where we can go to blow off all of this".

and when he said that gabrielle didn’t think he meant the empty recreation center where the swimming pool and gyms were. once he brought her in and shredded his shirt he dived in the deep end in the shorts he already had on, then swam to the shallow end where gabrielle was standing there poolside with her arms folded, grinning at him. he shook his wet hair and combed it back with his fingers. the pool room was warm and she felt comfort in the fact that it was just them two in there.

“heuning are we even supposed to be here?”.

“why would they leave the door open if we couldn’t? I come here all the time. mainly at night where I can be alone. just to clear my head sometimes. you should come in with me”.

“I’m wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. I’m not prepared to get in. plus I can’t even swim. don’t worry though I’ll just watch you from the pool chairs”.

“just wear my shirt. It’s not scary I promise. plus this water is warm”. gabrielle stood for a moment in thought. he could tell she was still trying to decide. “please? I’ll teach you”.

she swipes his shirt off the ground and playfully rolls her eyes. “fine heuning. fine. turn around”. he smiled at that and turned his body, waiting for her to give him the signal that she was done changing. once she had though he marveled over her features as soon as he turned back around. he hated the fact that she was self conscious about her body. especially when he loved every part of her, and every part of cellulite and series of stretch marks that came with it. his oversized shirt dangled just above her knees and she stood there shyly.

“why are you staring at me like that?”.

“because you’re beautiful”. he walked to the pool stairs and held his hand out for her to grab. she did so and felt her body shudder a little at the sudden contact with water. it was easy to get used to since it was fairly warm. they were already at four feet but she was already getting anxiety thinking about sinking underneath the water.

“we can stay here if you want. we don’t have to go to the deep end”. kai informed leaning back, letting himself float on top of the water. “how do you do that?”.

“what? float? just lay back and relax”.

gabrielle thought about it and positioned her body to do it but she quickly got frightened feeling her head almost sink into the water. kai clutched her body just in time. he was holding her bridal style just at the brim of the water.

“relax. don’t think about anything”.

“I’ll try not to think about how a cute boy is holding me right now”.

“and while I’m holding you I’ll try not think about how a cute girl is swimming in my shirt”.

“other than the fact that it’s clinging to my body right now it’s kind of comfy. I think I’ll keep it”.

“go ahead. there’s plenty more where that came from”.

“sounds like I need to go shopping in your closet?”.

“you’d probably wear my clothes better than me”. kai smiles. “look. you’re doing it and I’m barely touching you”. her eyes widened with excitement.

“wait I’m doing it? Oh my god I’m floating!”. he laughs. “calm down before you sink. you’re supposed to stay relaxed remember?”.

"I'm relaxed I'm just excited!". her voice bellowed off the pool room walls and soon she began to quickly submerge in the water with her frequent movements. she hadn't sunk that deep, maybe a couple of inches or two but water still filled her nose and lungs when she breathed it all in. kai panicked and lifted her out the water and threw her over his shoulder, he walked to sit her on the pool ledge so she could take a break from the water. she was coughing and her nose burned a shit ton, she mentally vowed to never do it again. kai pats her back and consoles her, wondering how everything even happened so fast. "you have to be careful baby I told you to relax". he consoles. yeah, she was still trying to get her eyes to focus on earthly things but her ears were open enough to hear the pet name. she got butterflies when she was finally feeling well enough to look down into his eyes.

"what?".

she shook her head, implying that it was nothing. "you called me baby".

"yeah. because you're my baby".

she blushed. "I am? without permission? you didn't even ask me".

he gives her a gentle smile, taking her hand and hugging her torso from the middle of her legs. "gabrielle? do you want to be my baby?".

"yes. yes I'd love that".

he smiles again, the smile that she loved. there wasn't a delay in the kiss that he gave her, it was swift and smooth and he held her close enough to where the world around her blurred and suddenly there was no noise. just the beating of their hearts together, hopelessly, cynically in love.

after swimming she didn't want to leave him. maybe she found herself a bit attached but she didn't care and neither did he.

"I know you're devising a plan to steal my hoodies so. I might as well donate some to you while you're here". gabrielle shuts the door behind her looking over at the vacant bed across from his. "where's your roommate?". kai digs around his closet. "he's probably at some party or spending the night somewhere". he turns and throws a hoodie at her chest and she catches it promptly. she turned to the mirror and pulled it over her head to see how it would fit. firstly, it smelled just like heuning so she was already starting to love it even if it fit a little big. she turned to the side and posed so she could see different angles of herself as she did with every new article of clothing she had. she didn't notice kai lowkey watching from the side in admiration and amusement. she was adorable in his clothes.

her heart dropped when he appeared behind her. she was too busy thinking about the things she could wear with the hoodie she completely forgot that she was even in his room. he smiles sweetly at her through the mirror. "you look so cute". it was hard for gabrielle to keep trying to hide her reddening cheeks so this time she embraced it. she embraced him. she embraced the fact that no matter what she thought she looked like, kai would always see her differently. she embraced the way he embraced her. "thank you heuning". she mutters, meeting his stare. it wasn't a creepy stare but rather wholesome, he saw paradise in her eyes even if it was through a reflective piece of glass. for the first time in his life he felt something. he felt a connection. and she felt his hands encompassing her waist and his lips sprinkling soft, heedful kisses along the expanse of her neck. gabrielle drew in a sharp breath, observing it all through the mirror ahead. she reaches her hand up and allowed it to entangle in the damp curly strands of his hair. her head tilts back a bit further, giving him the opportunity to kiss the places that he abandoned. her heart was pounding but she no longer cared. the butterflies in her stomach was wrecking her much harder. she tilted her head back enough for him to look into her eyes again before swooping in for a delicate kiss that rippled fireworks through their veins. they were stuck like that for a while, enveloping in each other's warmth while their lips moved en masse. it was was one foot after the other until they fell onto the bed, giving themselves to the ardent love that they were yearning for.

when gabrielle awoke the next morning she faintly remembered falling asleep on kai’s chest but it was hard to remember much of anything with the yelling that was ringing through her ears. her eyes flickered open to see that she wasn’t cuddled with Kai anymore but instead gripping a pillow, and kai was at the door arguing with some girl whom she couldn’t see.

“can you quiet down? you’re being too loud”. kai exclaimed, wanting to just shut the door on Jessica’s face.

“no! no I’m not lowering my fucking tone for what?! you need to hear me. shit everyone does. you’ve taken this too far! you need to tell her already!”.

at the sound of her words gabrielle leaned up a bit rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “tell me what? heuning? what’s going on what is she talking about?”.

when kai looked back at her a guilty expression was drawn across his face. he looked as if he wanted to say something, he just didn’t know how. “It’s nothing gabrielle”. Jessica pushes his room door open and storms past him, approaching the bed where gabrielle was. “Jessica stop”. kai warned. but she ignored him and gave gabrielle an angry gaze anyway.

“kai never liked you. he never wanted to date you or any of that shit. since you rejected him the first time he made a bet with his friends that he could get you to fall in love with him and then sleep with you. all this shit is a lie”.

gabrielle clutched the blankets with her stomach churning and hands growing clammy. the walls around her seemed as if they were closing in and there was a large lump in her throat. she darts her eyes over at kai who was still wearing the same guilty expression from earlier. “heuning? what the fuck is she talking about? is it true?”.

“gabrielle”.

“tell me the fucking truth heuning kai”.

he swallows, just wanting to disappear. “it was true at first but—“.

before he could continue she felt sick to her stomach. she was upset beyond measure and instead of staying and listening to another lie she throws on her shoes and grabs her clothes, making her way out of the residence hall and into the quads. such a bright warm day contrasted the way she was feeling. her body was on fire and she didn’t know if whether she wanted to cry or go completely numb. she knew she probably looked stupid staggering through the crowded quad full of students in the midst of their Saturday festivities. gabrielle couldn’t even make it fully out the quad until she felt lightheaded and fell to her knees, puking her feelings onto the blades of grass. she couldn’t believe him. she couldn’t believe he would do something like that to her.

she hadn’t known that he followed her, stopping at a distance once he saw her throwing up. “gabrielle none of that shit is true anymore. here let me help you”. he reached his hand out but she spoke quickly with her stomach heaving. “don’t you fucking touch me heuning kai”. she wipes her mouth and dizzily stands to her feet, giving him the deadliest stare he ever saw in his life. fear and guilt washed over him. “gabrielle you have to believe me”. she draws a hand back and gifts him a stinging slap across his face. one so loud that it drew the attention of everyone surrounding them. kai was stunned, shocked even. he held his cheek in pain.

“that was such an asshole move I should’ve known. I was told to stay away from you and that you’re nothing but trouble but I decided to give you a chance because I thought that’s all that you probably needed. a chance to show someone who you really are but now I fucking know who you are. a lying piece of shit who doesn’t give a damn about anyone but himself”.

“gabrielle—“. he tries to grab her wrist but she swiftly pulls away. “I fucking gave myself to you. that’s something I vowed to do only when I felt like the timing was just right and you took advantage of that didn’t you? you got a kick out of knowing that I was a virgin freshman didn’t you? you’re such a bitch it isn’t even funny”.

“no you didn’t let me finish it was true at first I’ll admit that. I’ll admit I’m an asshole for even devising a plan like that but all of that changed once I met you gabrielle. I fucking forgot about the plan. I meant everything I’ve ever said to you. I want you and I’m so in love with you I can’t even put it into words. please. you have to believe me. I’m sorry”.

she shook her head in annoyance, unable to even withstand the sight of his face.

“fuck you, heuning kai”. she made those words her last before she turned on her heels to cut through the crowd, vowing to never speak to him ever again.

[suspiciouslypinkrosegarden]

Pairing: Suit Saeran x Non Gendered Reader

Description: A little fic based on that gorgeous Suit birthday title screen CG we got this year. Go on, put on that dazzling outfit. There is one problem here with Suit’s plan though…you don’t know ballet to perform for him. Guess you’ll just have to dance together </3

Little note for readers who don’t identify as female: On stage, EVERYONE wears makeup (lipstick, eyebrows, all of it) in order to emphasize features for the audience to see. And costumes are also very important, including ones with glitter! Suity here doesn’t discriminate, everything here is following performing arts rules. Feel free to think of the costume in any way you like as it isn’t referred to as a dress! It’s anything! Local theater kid here isn’t a lier promise.

I wrote this pretty much exactly after the CG was revealed :3 so it’s older

————————————————————

“Perfect...what a well behaved doll~”

Saeran crossed his arms in front of him, showing you his signature smirk in a smug look of victory. He studied you, traveling down from your face to the outfit you so graciously modeled for him, admiring the way it hugged your waist and fell with such a poof at the bottom, black feathers adorning the soft silky material. He coughed upon noting the exposed bit of skin the outfit left in your chest area, and he made it painfully obvious that where his glance landed up was the cause of the tiny loss of composure.

You couldn’t help but feel rather flustered under his gaze, relief washing over you as his eyes finally met yours again.

“So...it took it being a special day for you to finally listen to me? Well? Did you enjoy the show at least, toy? Wasn’t it cute? The little dolly made of my little doll finally doing what you’re supposed to do. Entertaining me! That is your purpose! And today…,” he huffed through his nose with laughter. “You’re finally going to do that properly! That wasn’t just any old puppet show...but a demonstration of how today is going to go. You’re going to dance for me as I sit back and enjoy my cake in front of you...and if the performance is good enough, you can have a bite. Aren’t I generous today?”

He snickered as you tried your hardest not to sigh tiredly, not necessarily completely annoyed by him but…needless to say this wasn't something you’d have planned. There was a short pause as he tapped his foot a few times impatiently. Clearly you weren’t getting his message.

“So then, toy? Dance for me! And dance for this sugary treat~”, he cackled, sliding the small plate in your direction before pulling it back, taunting you much like a toddler. Perhaps waving a reward in front of your face would light a fire under you.

It was moments like these where you found yourself wondering what good you initially thought you’d get from blindly following a complete stranger to a hidden location in the mountains. Truth be told, today you were mainly humoring his whims because of the sheer amount of detail and effort he put into this charade, and because you were curious to try on that exquisite costume. Birthday boy or not...this couldn’t become a regular thing of his.

“Oh..oh oh oh and one more thing.”

Saeran rather excitedly crouched down for the blue present box underneath the table, easily popping its lid off and pulling out the final piece of your outfit; the same feathers and golden crown worn by your doll.

“Aren’t you excited? You get to be royalty for the day...my prince(ss)..my birthday present to play with! Why else did you think I’d instruct you to wear your hair like that before I came?”

Sending someone in to do your hair for you that evening and pamper you was the proper explanation for what actually went on. It wasn’t like it would be an easy feat to add such a lovely jeweled hair piece to your do alone. The timid believer who assisted you even brought you a perfume sent by him...so you, according to the note attached, “wouldn’t smell so awful”. On the bright side, you really did feel dazzling, the pearls in your hair matching the ones on your new attire.

“Well...come closer so I can put it on you. I won’t bite...as long as you listen,” he teased, bringing himself forward to close up more of the gap between you two.

You bowed your head slightly in response as he fiddled with how the headpiece sat, occasionally feeling his hands smooth down and readjust little parts of your hair. Once he was confident the job was done, he took a step back to admire his work of art. He seemed proud of his accomplishments; his ability to get you to play dress up for him and how the puppet show went so perfectly after so much practice...and now was the time for his hard work to pay off. He expected you to make every bit his birthday fantasy come true, which was evident in everything from his expressions to body language. But there was a problem. You didn’t know ballet.

Saeran took his birthday hat and placed it upon his head grumpily before plopping in the seat you once previously enjoyed his performance in. He sat with a slouch, bringing his plate of cake to him, noming down on a small bite before speaking again with his mouth a bit full.

“Come on, toy! I’m waiting now that you’re all ready!”

He tapped his foot impatiently again.

You decided to address your concerns slowly.

“Uhm...Saeran..? The dance you made the puppet do was ballet…”

“Yes, aren’t you clever? So do some ballet for me.”

“That’s the thing...I haven’t done ballet since I was practically a baby. I’m not sure how to...and you’d have to turn on the music-”

Rational thinking interrupted your nervous attempt to reason a proper way to do this. “And hey...why am I dancing for you anyways?”

He tilted his head, raising a brow in disapproval.

“Because I say so, and because you value your life and your stomach. Remember? I can toss you out at any time,” he puffed, “and this cake will save you from your misery of having an empty belly. You will work for your food and convince me you deserve it!”

“...Ok..? But again...I don’t know how to do ballet anymore-”

Saeran cut you off with the sharp screeching of his chair’s legs dragging backwards against the ground, standing swiftly.

“Did I ask for excuses..? Hahaha...most people would be more pleasant on their birthdays..”, he stepped towards you. “...Is that what you’re expecting from me? Hmm? To be all sweet and sappy because it’s my big day? Extra nice to you? I still won’t tolerate disobedience...in fact, I have less patience today!”

He finished his march to you until he could make certain his dominance was well established through a face-to-face threatening scowl, towering over you best he could. He cupped your chin, tilting it up so you were forced to meet him in all his fury.

“You’re going to dance today. You’re going to dance today because I ordered you to do so, little airhead. Even if I have to force you!”

Releasing his hold on your face, he then grasped your left hand, intertwining your fingers, giving you a good yank forward into him. He caught you on his chest as you gasped in slight shock, the feeling of his hand making its way to the side of your waist; the unexpected cold touch making you shiver as you felt it through the fabric of your outfit.

There was an awkward pause as the two of you stood together in silence for a moment, Saeran just watching you with bated breath. The quiet was eating at you, feeling your heart clamoring against your ribs as you waited for him to initiate something. Your stare drifted down to his chain which sat within your outfit’s front feathers before moving back up. It was cute that he’d pick out a gold one for his birthday. You piped up as you heard him finally swallow saliva.

“We uh...need music..if you want to dance together. I think this is a good solution, actually.”

You gave him a smile, the same gentle look he’d cursed dozens of times before for making him feel so gross in the stomach. He kept quiet this time, but your expression made him feel no different than usual, if not more so.

“I knew that. Obviously we can’t dance to nothing. Tch, don’t get smart with me…”

Sure he knew that.

He let go of your hand to reach out and press play on the little radio he’d tucked away behind the little stage, contorting himself to stay close to you before returning to your old ready to dance position. He pulled you to the right with a shuffle together away from the set to a clear space in the room, closer to the window, the glow of the soft moonlight catching on the intricate glittery details of your costume.

Saeran stared for a mere moment, stiff as a statue as you placed your free hand on his shoulder. You could tell from the shifting of his eyes he was trying his best not to gawk now that he was getting a solid look at you up against him, clearing his throat with an “akhem” to collect himself. He’d never admit the tips of his ears felt hot to the touch.

Finally, with your prompting, the inviting melody which drifted through the room allowed the two of you to begin swaying together; Saeran watching your feet to understand the 1-2-3 step movements you did. He got the hang of it pretty quickly, grinning confidently as he took more lead and a firmer hold on your waist. It was a simple dance, rocking a tad and moving in a circle, the expression you showed him sweet and caring as he peered into your reflective (e/c) pools, (and perhaps it was flustered and nervous too). He, on the other hand, wouldn’t allow his mask of cocky satisfaction to be taken off so easily, despite the rosy hue his pale cheeks took on.

“My my...such a warbled little smile I’m receiving from you~ are you enjoying this, doll? Don’t lie, I can see just how red you are..pfft- is dancing with your prince something you’ve day dreamed about before? You and your delusions-”

You decided to outright call him out. He can’t just tease you like this when he came up with this whole plan in the first place, now can he?

“Says the one who made a detailed puppet set of the building we’re in. And two dolls of us. And got me a costume. And got me ballet shoes, which my whole outfit matches the doll’s exactly, by the way. And you even put on a whole show, plus made me do my hair the way you like...who’s day dream are we actually living out? Oh and don’t forget...you’re the one who took my hand to dance too~”.

You winked at him, eliciting a low growl which rumbled in his throat. His face grew redder, perhaps with rage.

“Hey...I never said I didn’t like it. The detail is incredible, and I’m being honest. I’m not sure how much work you put into it all...but I can tell it was a lot. You, sir, have a hidden talent. I’d like to see what else you can do with more free time for yourself….”

He sneered, “I’m not going to keep humoring you with more stuff like this, if that’s what you’re implying. Maybe with more free time, I’ll only find myself coming up with new ways to make you bend and break! But, I will take your compliment as you can at least appreciate this all as a work of my geniusness. I’m a busy busy man, but I found free time to set up a playdate with my toy. So stop pushing my buttons! You should feel lucky I graced you with my presence! It’s my birthday...and I’m stuck looking at your stupid face!”

“Hmm...again, with all that planning I think someone wanted to see ‘my stupid face’. And I do feel lucky, because I get to spend your birthday with you, although I wish I could have organized something myself. And what I meant was...Saeran this is a work of art. The dolls look hand crafted and painted, including the outfits which must’ve been sown for today in order to match perfectly. I also noticed the pearls on my costume match the ones on your birthday hat. And the set...some of the paint even appears as if its liquid leaf...which it might not be but still. Once we’re finished dancing, I want to go and admire your efforts. Especially the cute little replica of yourself you made~!”

Saeran sputtered angrily.

“You….are certainly an A grade weirdo. Don’t you hate this, even a little? Isn’t it sucky for you? Having to be my puppet today!”

“I’m no one’s puppet. I’m enjoying myself because I get to dress up, dance with you, and learn about a new skill of yours.”

He stopped your swaying with a halt, and you could feel his once icy hand in yours growing hotter by the second. His grip tightened as if to warn you he might hurt you with a squeeze, but within a second, it softened, and he let go momentarily to run it through his poofy locks. He grumbled.

“I don’t know why I even bother with an airhead like yourself. You didn’t even use the stamps I left so clearly out in front of you.”

You grinned at the opportunity suddenly presented to you. You hadn’t given him a birthday gift yet, and here was the chance to give him something small, but memorable.

“Hey Saeran...do you like the shade of lipstick I’m wearing today? It’s kind of purpleish..you know, a combination of red and blue. Like your stamps if the ink is mixed.”

He gulped, furrowing his brows.

“What are you getting at? I don’t care about your silly stage makeup I instructed the believer to do...”

You faked a sigh, “Sorry, sorry. I’ll make sure to get on that last bit right now about the stamps, since we’re no longer dancing.”

Without hesitation, you took him by the open sides of his striking suit jacket, pulling him to you to turn and plant a quick but firm kiss on his cheek. You then let him go, drinking in his wide eyed blushy appearance, raising his hand to touch the prominent lipstick mark you left on him. He wiped the area as if to show he didn’t like it, only to look down at the swipe of purple on his fingertips.

“See there? A stamp! And there’s more where that came from~”

[hoe-doroki]

something perfect

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, explicit sex, legitimate breeding

pairing: Shouto x American cisfem!Reader

wc: 3.7k

genre: smut, fluff

summary: After years of questioning if Shouto would ever want children, he’s finally decided that he really does. Overjoyed, the two of you decide to get started.

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

Ask him.

You kissed him, the lipstick you’d worn to work that day no longer anything but a memory as you devoured him, letting him stumble you both in the direction of your bedroom.

Tell him.

You kissed him, allowing yourself to fall back on the bed that you both shared, him following you so quickly that it was like you hadn’t laid back at all—bent at the knee, body giving a bounce and a half on the mattress before he was pressing you into it. Rather, it was like you’d simply changed planes. Pressed chest to chest vertically one moment, horizontally the next.

 Check with him.

You kissed him, feeling the thinnest layer of sweat beginning on the right side of his body, just at his hairline. His neck was so long and narrow, swan-like—probably the thing that kept him looking lean and graceful, even as he broadened out in his thirties. And his beautiful face. This beautiful face that you couldn’t stop kissing. You couldn’t stop, but you needed to. Needed to just in case. Just in case he didn’t…Just in case it wasn’t…

“We don’t have to do this.”

Your voice was breathy, escaping bruised lips that were evidence enough that you were already doing this. Shouto pulled away; he must have heard the insistence that had managed to push through your lust. You hadn’t meant for it to sound so severe, but better to be over-dramatic then silent. His chest was heaving but his face blank save for the blown pupils and slack, shining lips.

“Darling, I can’t think about this and do it at the same time. You’re only going to get one or the other.”

You leaned up to take his mouth again, but he pulled just out of reach. You settled for rubbing the hard muscles of his bicep. “I just want to make sure you’re sure.”

You and Shouto had gotten to the point where you’d had to begin scheduling sex years ago, about the time you’d begun your psychology practice in between your work as a sidekick while Shouto had been moving up the pro hero ranks. So on nights like tonight, when sex was basically a given, you usually got right down to business. But, of course, tonight wasn’t like any other night together.

Tonight you were going to try to get pregnant.

Or, at least, you hoped that you were. This had been your plan forever, your dream since you’d been a little girl. For Shouto, it had been one long, anxiety-filled conversation since you both were eighteen.

“I’m still frightened, and that makes it hard to tell,” he started, his face unchanging as you searched his eyes. Even with Shouto’s body blanketing yours, you were cold, starting at your toes and creeping up your body. You’d been looking forward to this for weeks—well, years, really. He had every right to back out now, while he had the chance, but if he did, you’d have to leave. Go for a walk, get some air, get some space. And then have this same old conversation over again. Then, he gave you the smallest smile and your heart lurched. “But I haven’t changed my mind.”

His smile broke as he bent back down to kiss you, not lustfully, but with a gentle rocking of his chin, nudging just slightly as you opened your mouth for him again. Your pulse fluttered and you wrapped your arms around him, smiling into the kiss as his long bangs tickled the bridge of your nose. You’d gotten your IUD taken out a few weeks ago, and, since then, your cycle had seemed normal. You should be ovulating, if the test was to be trusted. Despite the intentionality behind getting your IUD removed, Shouto had still insisted on condoms, as he had for the last ten plus years of your relationship. So this would be your first formal try at getting pregnant. And even though you knew that it wasn’t likely to happen from this attempt alone, it was still momentous.

Long before you’d made it to the bed, Shouto had been removed from his shirt, as had you, leaving you in a pretty lace bra underneath. You hadn’t gone for a full lingerie set, preferring the idea of easier access tonight. Shouto put his hands on both breasts, kneading them as his mouth trailed down to your neck, sucking just at your pulse point. It would leave a mark for sure, but  you’d gotten quite handy with a makeup sponge over the years.

His lips migrated down to your chest, mouthing your covered nipple for a moment before pushing the left cup of your bra down and swirling his tongue. Meanwhile, your hand was moving south too. Your fingers ran down his side, cresting over the taut ridges of his obliques. Being a pro hero had given him some scars over the years, but his skin was still mostly smooth and soft, just having the slightest bit of give as it stretched over toned muscle. You flattened your hand and ran it down his abs, feeling the beginning of his thin happy trail until it disappeared beneath his low-slung sweats.

You palmed his erection, half-formed already, which had to be a good sign. If he didn’t want to do this, he’d never be able to get it up, right?

Shouto dug his teeth lightly into your nipple and his muscles rippled with tension as you applied pressure to his dick, feeling it growing harder in your hand already. Abruptly, Shouto glanced up at you, half a smile on his face.

“What?” you asked.

“If all goes well tonight, then, in a few months, this will be strange.”

You lifted your head up a little to look into Shouto’s teasing eyes better. “What will?”

He bent back down, pushing the right cup of your bra down so that both breasts were spilling over top, then latched his mouth around the nipple, giving a light suck. “This.”

You rolled your eyes, grasping a handful of Shouto’s dual-colored hair in your fist as you forced him back up to eye level. “One thing at a time, mister.”

The smirk returned. “Yes, dear.”

You took the opportunity to put a hand on either of his shoulders and force your husband onto his back, effectively landing yourself in his lap. Taking advantage of the position, you ground down on his erection, rocking your hips in a deliciously slow circle over and over as Shouto groaned. Then you rose up, just enough to take your own pants off. You could see your nipples poking over your bra, both bitten dark and shiny. With a flick of your thumb and forefinger behind you, you undid the undergarment’s clasp and let it slide slowly down your arms.

Shouto’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he stared at you, his eyes starting at your face and roaming the whole of your body. You’d been married for years and yet he still looked at you like he had back in high school.

Then he was on his knees, ripping your bra down your arms and throwing it across the bedroom. Your hands were on his pants just as fast, thanking God for elastic as you shoved them down, boxers and all and wrapped your fist around him, taking only moments to get him up to full mast. Shouto’s mouth met yours with a groan and he squeezed the flesh of your ass tightly in his hands. He ran a hand over the front of your underwear and you felt him smile against your mouth.

“You’re so wet,” he said, and you could feel what he meant. Your panties squished against your core as he began lightly thumbing just over your clit, making you push up against him. It had been a while since you’d gotten so wet so quickly without having to reach for the lube. You felt like you were twenty years old again, a constant slip and slide ready to take your boyfriend’s cock on a moment’s notice.

God, you needed him inside of you.

“Shouto,” you whined, letting him know what you wanted.

“Okay, I’m going to—” Shouto began to pull away from you, then stopped short, eyes wide as he caught himself.

He’d been reaching for your bedside table, where you kept your condoms, amongst other things. In all your years together, you and Shouto had never had sex without a condom. Even though you’d had other forms of birth control for nearly the whole time, he’d always insisted. It had been his paranoia, his constant fear that you’d fall pregnant and he wouldn’t be ready.

You saw his breathing go shallow, his abs tightening as his chest moved up and down quickly. Quicker than it should.

“Shouto?” you said, reaching out for him.

“No, I just—” He was back on you quickly, your eyes still wide open as he kissed you with enough force pressing your whole bodies together in a way he never did when he was fully naked. “I didn’t—”

His hands were all over you as they guided you back to your original position, you on the bed, head cradled by your goose down pillows, him over top of you, worshiping you. They trailed back down to your panties his fingers only just curling under the hem before you lifted your hips, eager to have them off. Shouto didn’t seem to want to leave you, his neck craning before he finally took his mouth off yours in favor of pulling your underwear all the way down your legs. And then you were bare, the both of you, for the first time ever. No barriers, clothing or otherwise.

Shouto let out a shaky breath as he returned to you hands cupping your cheeks as you felt the new contact of his cock pressed against your thigh, so close to where he’d never allowed it to be like this.

“You okay?” you asked, putting one hand over his.

“Mhmm,” he said, but you waited for more as his lips pursed and softened. “I just keep forgetting that this isn’t normal sex.”

“It’s not too late to—”

“No,” Shouto interrupted, shaking his head even as your foreheads were pressed against each others. It sent yours rocking back and forth too, moving in tandem with each other. “It’s just a monumental thing to remember again every few moments.”

“Of course,” you said, rubbing your thumb over the fleshy part of his hand.

He pulled away from you suddenly, but your confusion only lasted as long as it took for him to move down the bed and rest both hands on your legs, spreading them apart. Then his tongue was on your clit and you moaned at the sensation. A moment later, two fingers began to press into your wetness, thrusting in and out a couple times before curling and pressing hard into your g-spot.

“You really are wet,” Shouto said again, chuckling into your clit.

“Shut up and keep going. Shit.”

The last part came out in English as Shouto gave your clit a firm suck. You felt his smile broaden again at your expletive and you responded by pushing his bangs back with both hands and giving a light tug. He loved it when you swore in English during sex, but you weren’t about to let his self-satisfaction stop him from the task at hand. He took it well, laving his tongue over your pussy broadly as he began stroking his fingers across your soaked walls in earnest. You rewarded him by loosening your grip in his hair and scratching his scalp lightly, keeping the actions mindless as you focused on what he was doing to your cunt.

It wasn’t long before the tension in your belly began to coil. You groaned and muttered filthy things as Shouto worked you higher and higher until you began to tighten your grip on his hair again. “Shouto, I’m close. I don’t wanna finish like this.”

He pulled away just long enough to say, “I guess you’ll have to cum twice then.”

“Fuck.”

You groaned as your head flopped to one side, lips bitten to a dark hue as your mind quieted, focusing only on everything he was giving you. Your spine moved of its own accord, rippling as you alternatively tried to get him closer and further away, constantly feeling right on the edge of too much and not enough. He’d moved up to three fingers and was thrusting them unto you unabatedly as his lips closed in a wide circle around your clit, sealing it off as his tongue swiped over it again and again. You didn’t even have a chance to warn him before you were cumming.

“Shouto,” you whined your back arching off the bed as your cunt clenched down on his fingers. Shouto didn’t slow until your pulse stopped pounding, until the sound of anything besides your own moans returned to your ears.

As Shouto pressed himself back up, you could see his mouth was wet with your slick, which he did his best to lick away as he crawled back on top of you. You could taste the saltiness of your release when he leaned down to kiss you. You’d only just cum, but as his cock settled against your inner thigh, precum smearing against your bare skin, you could feel your refactory period ending, your cunt twitching at the thought of him being properly inside you.

“I’d return the favor, love, but,” you said between kisses, “it seems that would be inadvisable for the task at hand.”

“Just as well,” Shouto said as he bent an arm under one of your legs, bringing it around to curl over his hip so the two of you could be slotted center to center. He began thrusting against you, his hot cock catching some of your cum and sliding against your over-sensitive clit. “I need to be inside of you before this comes to an untimely end.”

“Really?” you asked cheekily. “Are we questioning our stamina?”

“Love, if you were feeling yourself fully for the first time, you’d be concerned about cumming like a virgin too.”

Well, you weren’t feeling yourself for the first time, but already your pussy was hungering for the feeling of him. The sensation of his cock, no rubber, no condom, just him dragging against you was making your toes curl.

“Baby, you’re going to have to hold onto that stubborn willpower that I know you have then, because I need you inside me. Now.”

“Now?” Shouto asked and his voice was so level you couldn’t tell if he was being facetious, teasing, or really asking. But you didn’t really give a fuck either way, because the answer was still the same.

You were ready to shout the answer at him, but Shouto seemed to get the message and the next thing you knew, his hand was between your legs and the head of his dick was pressed against your entrance. You leaned up to look at it and, suddenly, you felt like a virgin again too. Except this time, your body welcomed him in, your wetness allowing you almost to suck him in until he bottomed out inside you. Shouto took in a deep breath and said, “Wow.”

“Feels good?” you asked, definitely being facetious, but Shouto didn’t seem to notice.

“Incredible,” he breathed, kissing you. “I love you, Y/N. I love you so much.”

Any trace of humor you’d felt faded away, replaced by something warmer. Your face slacked as it suddenly hit you again, the enormity of what you were doing. You brought a hand up to his cheek and choked out, “I love you too, Shouto.”

He’d already begun rocking gently, deep in your heat, but with your words and kisses exchanged, he began to thrust in full, hips pulling away from you and snapping back in wet smacks as your wet pussy coated his pelvis. This was so much better than the condom; you couldn’t believe you’d spent your first decade of lovemaking hindered by generally redundant latex.

“Mm,” you grunted as Shouto kissed down the side of your neck. Soft neck kisses always felt so tender and loving, especially today, tonight. You wanted to capture this feeling of Shouto inside you fully for the first time, the two of you making love in the most profound way, and his lips brushing against your neck. You couldn’t think of anything better.

You passed short nails over the skin of Shouto’s back, urging his hips closer to yours. It wouldn’t really matter until he released how deep he was in you, but you couldn’t get enough contact. You brought your other leg up around him, heels digging into his ass as you breathed shallowly against his temple.

Shouto seemed to interpret your neediness as a plea for more, and quickly, he upped the tempo of his thrusts, smacking his hips against yours at a steady pace. You were pressed so tightly you could feel his abs clenching against your stomach with every breath and you wanted to run your hands across them, lick the sweat off of them. As his pubic bone rubbed against your clit with every thrust, you could feel yourself clenching more tightly around him.

“Are you close?” you asked.

“Have been the whole time.”

“Good,” you said, and you reached down and began to rub your clit.

You only managed a few passes before Shouto took your hand and replaced it with his own, circling it with his thumb and, suddenly, you were a whole lot closer.

“Uhn, fuck,” you cried, as Shouto’s hips pounded even faster into you. “That’s it, love. I’m so close. I’m—”

The words died in your mouth as your body shuddered, clenching hard around Shouto’s cock. His lips hovered over yours, both of you breathing into each other.

“My love,” Shouto said, just as you were beginning to come down. “Y/N.”

“I love you, Shouto,” you said, and Shouto’s eyes clenched shut. You weren’t sure if he was fighting to hold back his orgasm or if he was holding back fighting it off.

“No regrets,” Shouto said, brushing his thumb under your eye. You felt moisture and realized a tear had escaped—you had no idea when.

You smiled to show what kind of tear it was and said, “Not with you. Never with you.”

And then there was a great exhale. You could feel Shouto’s lower abs loosening as he pushed himself all the way into you, the head of his cock pressing right against your cervix as you felt an unfamiliar heat. He kept thrusting, moving only a millimeter at a time as your legs kept him flush to you, your pussy sucking him in. And then it was over. Shouto’s hips came to a halt, but he stayed inside of you.

There was no condom to worry about coming loose, so he stayed, you hoped for as long as possible.

You knew it wasn’t likely, but there was every possibility you’d just created something perfect. Something half of both of you, and everything you’d ever wanted. You’d never be the same.

“I want to hold you,” Shouto said, his voice thick and slow as he carefully formed each syllable.

Your heart could have broken out of your chest, cracked through each of your ribs at those words. You nodded and held him close as Shouto wordlessly rolled you over, you now on top and his arms able to wrap all the way across your back. It was hard to take a deep breath as your chests were pressed together, but you didn’t care. Who needed air when your husband had just given you everything you’d ever wanted?

Neither of you spoke for the longest time. Shouto’s hands moved up and down your back and you caressed his hair, resting your head against his shoulder. Eventually, the two of you separated where you were joined most intimately, but everywhere else there was skin on skin, holding each other as tightly as possible.

You didn’t know how long it had been, but after a while you felt the most curious tickle in your nether regions. It only took a second to place what it was and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Shouto, I have to get up,” you said. “Your cum is leaking out of me.”

You looked up at him in time to see his naturally down-turned lips pull a little tighter into a confused frown. “Isn’t that not supposed to happen?”

“Well, of course it’s going to happen to some of it,” you said. “Most of it, really.”

“But not yet. Naturally, it should stay inside if we want the best chances.”

Before you could fight him more on the matter, Shouto was shifting you off of his chest and back onto the bed, facing up. Then he pushed himself up, and you, as always, took the chance to admire your husband’s perfect form. His chest was pink where you’d been lying on it and, from the glimpse you’d gotten of his back, there were a few little cat scratches making his way down either side of his spine. The next thing you knew, he was standing on the bed and taking both of your legs in his hand, resting your feet against his thigh so that they faced the ceiling. You laughed.

“Trying to earn gravity’s favor, Shouto?”

“Just for a little while,” he said calmly. Then he took one of your feet in his hand and began messaging it, instantly turning your laughter into groans much reminiscent of the ones he’d just been pulling from you. “Is this okay?”

“More than,” you said.

You were trying to keep your hopes low, really you were. You were sure that you and Shouto would have sex more times over the course of this cycle, so it would be impossible to tell if tonight was the night you conceived even if, against all odds, you did turn up pregnant after the first test. But regardless of any of the ifs and maybes of this situation, there was one thing that you were sure of as you looked at Shouto’s serious face, kneading out the pains you didn’t even know you had in your foot. Whenever and however you had a baby, there was no one you’d rather have by your side as a partner.