#i feel like maybe i have a thing for 'fucked up star crossed lovers'

[smileysuh]

real talk

🌙 starring. Mark Lee x afab!Reader

🔮 preview.“You’re Jeno’s roommate, Jeno’s my friend- I know we’ve just met, but I know things about you.” Hyuck explains. “When you were with your last girl, Jeno used to come to the bar and bitch about you never coming out- he’s been wanting you to meet the rest of the boys for a while, but never wanted to invite us over cuz your last girlfriend had some supernatural cootchie-grip hold on you or something- point is, I know you’re a serial monogamist. Two long-term girlfriends. You like the domestic shit, and I get that- but if you want domestic, it’s not our little Miss Sunshine expo girl. She can’t even sleep next to guys she’s fucked- wakes up at five am, and dips out without a word. Trust me on this, dude, you wanna stay far away from that man-eater.”

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, reader has a hard time cumming, oral (f/m receiving), Mark is a MUNCH, deep throating, fingering, masturbation, use of toys/vibrator, dirty talk, praise, Mark is a simp, sex realism, overthinking during sex, mentions of sexual favours in return for affection, a string of bad ex-lovers, breast worship, creampies, aftercare, finger sucking, drunkenness, etc… I pet names: (hers) sunshine. (his) puppy boy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 19.4k

🍭 aus. Restaurant au, line chef!Mark, slow burn, coworkers to lovers, fuck girl who looks like sunshine meets a serial monogamist who looks like a fuckboy, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I wanted to touch on some realism to kick off the year. Not everything is as easy during sex as it appears in fanfic/p*rn, so I wanted to make something that might be more true to the real experience of afabs who overthink and need extra help to cum- I hope maybe this fic can normalize girls who need some extra machine power to get off ;)

One:

Mark has only been working at his new restaurant for two weeks, but he’s already fallen in love with the place. Morning shifts have been good for him.  With the help of his favorite expo girl - who always takes the time to explain small details and things he’s been messing up on - he’s already gotten used to the menu. Every day feels better and better.

“This tuna is looking so good, Mark,” you grin, inspecting the plate. 

When he’d first been hired, the fish he’d cut had come out mangled, but after talking him through it, you’d both realized it had been a knife issue. Sharpening his blade had led to Mark perfecting his slices, and now, he eagerly awaits your praises when he puts his food up in the expo window. 

Mark’s eyes follow you as you dart off toward the bar, the plate of tuna balanced perfectly in your hand. The new chef can’t help the smile that works its way onto his lips, and he leans forward, hand flat on the cutting board station in front of him.

“This tuna is looking so good, Mark,” Hyuck’s annoying voice snaps him out of his trance, and Mark turns to look at the man next to him. “God, can you two make it any more obvious that you’re into each other?”

“She’s just doing her job,” Mark assures the other line chef, but he can feel his skin heating at the idea.

“Sure she is. But she doesn’t compliment my cooking as much as she does yours.” Hyuck crosses his arms over his chest, letting out a sigh as his gaze shifts to the view through the expo line. You’re at the bar now, chatting with the man who you’ve just served. However, you’re taking longer than normal, and you’re smiling a lot too.

“No fucking way,” Hyuck breathes, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes. “That guy is hitting on her.”

“Is he?” Mark also dips his head toward the expo window, eager for a look.

“Yeah, mans just slipped her his number,” Hyuck laughs. “That’s our little Sunshine though, isn’t it? This restaurant is her playground.”

“What do you mean?” Mark asks.

“Just that she’s quite popular,” Hyuck brushes it off as you approach the expo line again. “Did you get a number, sweet thing?”

“Why, you jealous?” You grin, holding up the slip of paper with digits on it. 

“You wish,” Hyuck scoffs, but Mark gets the feeling there’s something else going on between the two of you, something unspoken. He’s still getting used to the dynamic of the restaurant, and in work spaces like this, relationships aren’t uncommon. He wonders what history you have with Hyuck, wonders what chance he has with you- wonders if it’s even a good idea.

Two

“Luna never runs her own food,” Sumi notes, standing with you by the entrance to the restaurant while you watch the tall waitress lean against the expo window. “I know that our new chef is cute, but, damn.”

“She can do what she wants,” you laugh, wiping down menus. “Makes my job easier.”

“You know, it’s kind of felt like you and Mark have some sort of understanding,” Sumi grins, moving close enough that your hips touch by the host station. “He watches you a lot.”

“Does he?” Your gaze moves back to the expo line.

“Uh huh, almost as much as Hyuck does- which, by the way, you sure did a number on him.”

“Hyuck will get over it, he’s a fuck boy,” you wave your hand. “I’m great at attracting that kind of guy.”

“Do you get fuck boy vibes from Mark?” Sumi wonders, tapping her pen against the top of her Ipad thoughtfully.

“He’s definitely cute enough to be a womanizer, don’t you think?”

“Key word being cute,” Sumi points out. “I don’t know, he doesn't give me fuck boy vibes like the other line chefs do.”

“Well, he’s roommates with Jeno, isn’t he?” Your eyes move to the bar. Jeno’s a night bartender, but his close friend, Renjun is working today. “Jeno’s a fuck boy, he got Hyuck and Jaemin jobs here. They’re both fuck boys. It would make sense if Mark was that kind of guy too.”

“I’m still not convinced,” Sumi states, crossing an arm over her chest. “Speaking of men though- whatever happened to that guy who gave you his number the other day? Are you actually considering a date with him?”

“I already had a date with him,” you admit. 

“Yikes, from the way you haven’t mentioned it at all, I’d guess it didn’t go so well?”

“Meh,” you shrug your shoulders. “He won’t be getting a second date.”

“How many first dates have you been on this year?” Sumi asks. “Didn’t you say it was like… a lot?”

“Too many to count,” you giggle. 

“So what’s the deal with that? Like- what’s your type? I know you were seeing Hyuck for a little while, how come that didn’t work?”

“It just didn’t,” you say, looking down at the menus you’ve wiped clean. “I try not to think about my failures too much.”

“Really? But you could learn so much from them,” Sumi frowns. “I mean- look at me and Doyoung. I was never into the more serious types, always went for fuck boys and younger guys- but after some soul searching, I realized I needed someone older who had their shit together.”

“You also have a thing for guys in powerful positions, and Doyoung is literally one of our managers,” you point out.

“Well, I’m still a work in progress,” Sumi winks. “Anyways- think about it. If you look at your dating patterns, you might be surprised by what you find.”

Three

There’s nothing like the air outside after being in a hot kitchen for a few hours. The lunch rush is finally over, and after having a 20 top that ordered an insane amount of food with an even crazier amount of modifications and allergies, Mark is ready to take a massive puff from his vape pen.

He stands by the back exit to the restaurant, looking out at the cars on the street as he takes a long drag. As he inhales, the door behind Mark opens, and he turns to come face-to-face with you.

The shock of seeing you makes him choke a little, and he begins to cough out a large puff of smoke. Mark’s lungs burn, and his skin feels even hotter, enflamed by the embarrassment of you seeing him take a crappy hit when in reality, he’s a vaping veteran. 

“You good?” you ask, reaching out and gently rubbing his back as you step past him.

“Yeah, I, uh-” Mark’s entire body tingles at the physical contact. “Sorry, you just surprised me.”

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” you grin, stopping in front of him. He notices the way your eyes go to his vape pen, and he immediately holds it out to you.

“Want some?”

“I mean, if you’re offering.” You reach out and accept the sleek black vape. “What’s the flavor?”

“Uh… cotton candy?” God, Mark feels like a fool, especially when you raise a brow at him. “I have a bit of a sweet tooth.”

“Didn’t peg you as a sweet tooth type,” you grin, bringing the refillable device to your lips. Mark watches you take a drag, focusing on your mouth and the way you look sucking on something- he starts to imagine what you’d look like sucking on something else, something substantially bigger. 

As you exhale, you cough a little, and Mark wonders if you’re doing that to make him feel better about his screw-up a moment ago- or maybe you simply don’t vape often, he’s not too sure. 

“Thanks,” you say, still coughing as you hand the vape back to Mark. Your fingers brush gently as he accepts it from you, and as Mark brings the device to his mouth, he’s extremely aware of the fact that your lips had just been where his now are. 

He wonders if it means anything that you’d be so willing to swap spit like this, even on something as innocent as a vape pen. 

“How long are you here till?” you ask, breaking him from his daze. 

“Started at seven am, eight-hour shift, should be off around three when the night cross-over guys come in,” Mark explains. 

“Any fun plans for tonight?” you continue to press. “It is a Friday after all.”

“No plans, will probably just go home, make some food, and watch Netflix all night… what about you?”

You sigh. “No hot dates, unfortunately. Will probably do the same as you. Do you have any good show recommendations? I’ve been looking for something new.”

“I mean, it depends, what are you into?” Mark asks, eager to hear more about your tastes, your likes and dislikes- he knows so little about you, mostly things related to work. He’s curious about what you do in your downtime, and he’s grateful he has an opportunity like this to get to know you even a little bit better.

As you part your lips to respond, the back door swings open, and Hyuck steps out, already mid-puff of his neon orange vape. 

“Oh,” the line chef grins, exhaling through his nose and flashing a grin, “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” you respond quickly, and Mark notes the shift in your energy, “I was just leaving actually.”

“See you later,” Mark offers, watching you hurry off. 

“Classic her,” Hyuck sighs, coming to stand next to Mark.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s a runner, that one,” Hyuck takes another puff from his vape.

“So you two definitely used to date,” Mark states. The interaction he’s just witnessed verifies his suspicion, and since they’re technically outside of work/the kitchen, Mark feels able to actually discuss this now.

“I don’t know if I’d call it dating,” Hyuck cocks his head to the side, eyes still fixed on you where you’re crossing the street a couple hundred feet away. “Look, do you want real talk? You wanna know about your favorite expo girl?”

“Yeah, I wanna know.” Mark lifts his vape to his lips, readying himself for whatever is about to come out of Hyuck’s mouth.

“I know she looks like sugar and sunshine, but I hate to burst your bubble Mark- she’s a bit of a fuck girl, that one.” 

“It takes one to know one,” Mark points out.

“Touche, but to be fair, I never claimed to be anything other than a guy who likes pussy, and little miss sunshine knew that when we started hooking up a few months ago.” Hyuck lets out another large puff of smoke into the air. “Look, I said I’d give you real talk so here it is. She’s got a lot of expectations. Girl reads those horny romance books-”

“Erotica.”

“Yeah, that’s it, erotica.” Hyuck nods to himself. “Well, she reads erotica, and her ideas about fucking are kind of hard to make real. She’s too in her head all of the time. Apparently - and don’t repeat this anywhere - but apparently no guy she’s fucked has ever made her actually cum. She has this thing where someone told her that if a guy doesn’t make you cum, he doesn’t add to your body count, so allegedly her body count is zero and she’s a virgin, but we both know it’s a lot higher than that.” 

“The whole body count thing doesn’t phase me,” Mark says quietly, although the wheels in his head are spinning.

“Sure it doesn’t,” Hyuck scoffs. “Just listen, if you’re into her, it’s not going to work out. She’s not for beginners like you.”

“Beginners like me?” Mark side eyes the line chef.

“You’re Jeno’s roommate, Jeno’s my friend- I know we’ve just met, but I know things about you.” Hyuck explains. “When you were with your last girl, Jeno used to come to the bar and bitch about you never coming out- he’s been wanting you to meet the rest of the boys for a while, but never wanted to invite us over cuz your last girlfriend had some supernatural cootchie-grip hold on you or something- point is, I know you’re a serial monogamist. Two long-term girlfriends. You like the domestic shit, and I get that- but if you want domestic, it’s not our little Miss Sunshine expo girl. She can’t even sleep next to guys she’s fucked- wakes up at five am, and dips out without a word. Trust me on this, dude, you wanna stay far away from that man-eater.”

Four

“Mark?” you ask, looking at the takeout bowl in front of you.

“Yeah?” he leans forward, lips parting as he waits for your judgment.

“Didn’t they order the spicy yogurt on the side?” You push the rice bowl forward, pointing at the lines of orange tinted cream that cover the veggies. 

“Shit,” Mark cusses, grabbing the chit-paper receipt and scanning it. “There were like, three other modifications, I didn’t even see the yogurt on the side.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “It’s takeout, and there’s pretty much no one in the restaurant, so you have time to make another… besides, I’ll just take this one as my lunch.”

One of the perks of the job is getting to take home the food that’s not correct. You’d been dreading going to the grocery store, your fridge empty of easy meals, but now you don’t have to make the trek, and you’re more than happy about it.

“You know, Mark, you’re my favorite new chef.” He’s also the only new chef, and you’ve been reaping the rewards of minor fuck ups the past two weeks. 

Mark, however, doesn’t seem to note your teasing, and he offers you a genuine smile. “You’re my favorite expo girl.”

“Yeah?” you grin. “And why’s that?”

“You’re really nice about things I mess up,” Mark’s eyes shift to the dragon bowl you’re packing up. “Like, you point things out, and you turn them good. As you said, it’s an easy fix, I have the time, and now you get to eat that.” 

“It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement, that’s for sure,” you laugh. 

“You’re also pretty happy most days, always makes me happy to come in and see our Little Miss Sunshine.” 

“Jeeze, not you calling me that pet-name too,” you roll your eyes. Hyuck had taken to calling you that a few months ago, and somehow the title had stuck. Mark was the only chef using your real name, but it looks like those days might already be behind you.

“It fits,” Mark assures you. “I think it’s cute.”

“Does it fit because I’m cute?” 

You notice the way Mark immediately swallows thickly, his skin turning a pretty shade of pink. “Uh- I mean, yeah,” his voice cracks, and he fiddles with his sleeves, pushing them up to his elbows, “you’re cute-”

“Oh my God-” you stare at his forearms, which are usually covered by his chef coat. “Have you always had all those tattoos?!”

“Did you really never notice these?” Mark looks down at his arms, lifting them so you can see the details.

“I have never noticed them,” you confirm, leaning forward. “Damn, how many tattoos do you have?!”

“A lot?” Mark’s tattoos are patchwork style, all black. They litter his forearms, and you wonder how high up the markings go- you wonder if his chest is covered, or his back- what about his legs?

“I need a tattoo tour,” you insist.

“I mean… I can’t show you all of them-” Mark says sheepishly. 

“Start with that one,” you point at a tattoo of three letters near his inner elbow, “What’s SSG mean?”

“So uh- the first restaurant I worked in, a few of us dishwashers worked our way into the kitchen with no formal training or anything- just started at the bottom, and went up from there. One of us came up with the idea of being the Soapy Suds Gang, like- dishwashers to chefs. Was at that restaurant from the age of fifteen to twenty, and when it closed down cuz the owners just didn’t wanna be in the business anymore, me and all the others got the matching SSG tattoo.”

Mark is adorable. Like, shockingly so. It’s such a stupid yet endearing story- and for some reason, it feels so on-brand for Mark. 

He begins to tell you about a few other tattoos. There’s a shotgun to commemorate his years playing Call of Duty online with friends. A cartoon puppy because apparently his mom never let him get a dog - something about him not being able to handle it if the dog ever died - so when he turned eighteen, he got a dog that could never bite the bullet, etched into his skin with black ink. 

All the marks have meaning, stories that make up the groundwork of Mark’s life. 

“What about that one?” you ask, noting a King of Hearts tattoo that he’d skipped over.

“Oh, uh…” Mark rubs the back of his neck shyly. “My ex-girlfriend wanted a Queen of Hearts tattoo, so I got this one, and… I mean, I don’t regret it, I was with the girl for three years- but, it’s not a tattoo I talk about too often.”

“Three years?” you ask in shock. “You were with your last girlfriend for three years?”

“Why do you sound so shocked?”

“It’s just- I mean,” you lick your lips, leaning in so Mark’s the only one who can hear you, “I hate to say it, Mark, but you look like a total fuck boy.”

“I’m really not,” Mark admits. 

“Even before your last ex?”

“Even before,” the line chef confirms. “I’ve got two ex-girlfriends. The last one ended about a year ago, dated her from age twenty-two to twenty-five. Had a girlfriend from when I was sixteen to twenty-one-”

“So a three-year relationship and a five-year relationship?” 

This gossip keeps getting juicier and juicier. 

“Yeah. The first one moved to another country to teach English, and I’ve never been that into long distance. We tried to make it work, but we agreed the best thing was to let each other go. Then the last girl decided she wanted more from life than some line chef so…” Mark trails off and you feel your heart hurt for him. “Anyways, what about you? How many relationships have you had?”

“A lot more than you,” you answer quickly, although, that’s only if you count one-night stands, flings, and situationships, but you won’t go into those details with Mark right now. “I mean… are you looking for anything right now?”

“What do you mean?” Mark cocks his head to the side.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but… a few of the waitresses are into you,” you whisper.

“Really?” he looks past you at the restaurant, and you see him trail Luna with his eyes. “That’s nice and everything, but waitresses really aren’t my type.”

“Then what’s your type?”

“Expo girls.” 

His words hit you in your chest, and you can feel your pulse quicken immediately.

“I mean-” Mark’s skin has returned to that pretty pink colour. “My first girlfriend- the five-year one, she was the expo girl when I met her- we got close cuz we spent so much time together. I didn’t mean you- I wasn’t trying to hit on you or anything- not that I don’t think you’re cute, cuz you’re definitely cute- fuck.”

You watch him, smiling and completely amused. It appears you’d read the new line chef all wrong. He’s not a fuck boy, he’s a lover boy, and you kind of adore that about him.

“I should uh- I need to remake this dragon bowl-” Mark turns away from you, and you watch him scurry off to the fridge to grab vegetables. 

You’re kind of hoping to tease him so more when he returns, but before he does, Doyoung appears from the back, and he waves you over. “It’s been dead for half an hour,” your manager notes, “you’re cut. Head home, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Five

Mark hasn’t been able to stop thinking about your conversation. All night, he’d had you on his mind- and he’d kind of been hoping to get to talk to you today, but you have the day shift and this is one of his first nights scheduled.

Even so, Mark arrives to work thirty minutes early just on the off chance he’ll catch you, and as he’s waiting outside the backdoor, hitting his vape, his hopes come true.

You step out of the back of the restaurant, looking down at your phone. The jacket you’re wearing today is vibrant in contrast to your all-black uniform, and the comfy sneakers you always put on after your shift in flats are beginning to look a little worn out now that winter is almost over. 

“Hi,” Mark says, drawing your attention.

“Oh,” you put your phone into your pocket, offering him a smile. “Hey- you just starting?”

“In ten minutes or so,” the line chef nods. “I uh- I wanted to apologize for yesterday.”

“Apologize for what?” You cock your head to the side. 

“All of it?” Mark suggests.

You laugh, and the sound does things to Mark that he’ll never be able to express. “Seriously, we’re all good,” you assure him. “I think you’re pretty cute too, so, don’t worry about any of it.”

Mark’s mouth feels dry, and it’s not just from the vaping. He fiddles with the device in his hand, working up the courage to say what’s on his mind. “I was wondering- I mean, it sounds like you’re still on the market and all- so I was thinking, maybe, if you’d like- maybe we can go out sometime, or something- but no pressure.”

Your smile widens, and you step closer to him. “What would going out with you look like?”

“Honestly…” Mark swallows thickly, “it would look more like staying in. Since we both work in a restaurant- or maybe it’s just a ‘me thing’, but I’m not super into drinks as a first date, or even food- I’m a bit of a homebody. I’d love for you to just come over, watch some netflix, talk- that sort of shit.”

You look him up and down, and Mark’s body tenses as he waits for your response.

“That actually sounds pretty nice,” you admit. “Here, give me your hand.”

Mark holds out his palm, watching you pull out a Sharpie from your pocket. You write your phone number across his skin. “Careful,” you say, as you draw the last digit, “Don’t wash this off or anything.”

“I won’t,” he assures you, already planning on taking a picture of it with his phone just in case. 

“I should get going, but yeah- text me when your shift is over and we can figure something out.” 

“You got it,” Mark grins, unable to hold in his excitement any longer. “Have a good night.”

“You too.” 

With one final exchange of eye contact that makes Mark’s heart lurch in his chest, you walk off, the line chef’s eyes following you all the way out of sight. 

As he turns to head inside, Mark bumps into Hyuck. “Don’t go in just yet,” Hyuck insists, “stay out here and vape with me for a minute.”

It’s hard for Mark to focus on anything Hyuck is saying about the afternoon rush, but he manages to nod and make sounds of affirmation while his coworker rants about some party of fifteen that walked in and only ordered appetizers. 

“Mark, you’re not paying attention,” Hyuck sighs.

“Sorry, I’m just kind of-” Mark swallows the lump in his throat, “yeah, I’m distracted.”

“Got a hot date?”

“What?” Mark looks up.

“Someone wrote their digits on your hand,” Hyuck grabs at Mark’s wrist, “let’s see-”

Mark tries his best to pull away, but Hyuck’s already assessing the phone number. After a moment, the younger man lets go, his mouth forming a firm line. “I warned you about her.”

Mark’s surprised that Hyuck - who has the memory of a goldfish most days - clearly recognizes your phone number. 

“I told you she’s not for beginners.” 

“Yeah, well, I don’t have to listen to you,” Mark insists. “And not everything is about fucking. She’s gonna come over, we’re gonna watch movies- nothing has to happen. I just want to know her better.”

“Lover boy,” Hyuck scoffs, “she’s going to eat you up, and spit you back out.”

“And if she does, then that’s my choice,” Mark says firmly. “I know she fucked you over or whatever, but that doesn’t mean anything to me, Hyuck. I’m sorry, but I really don’t care about what happened between the two of you.”

“Ouch, dude.”

“If she’s as bad as you say, then you can say you told me so when this is all over. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Six

“So this is Jeno’s famous fuck pad,” you tease, stepping into Mark’s apartment and looking around. 

“Uh, he doesn’t actually bring girls here that often,” Mark says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “He likes to go to their place, makes it easier to run than kicking a girl out the next morning, you know?”

“I suppose that makes sense,” you nod… you usually fuck guys in their homes for the same reason. “It’s a nice place.”

“Thanks, my ex had a lot to do with the decor and shit.” Now that Mark mentions it, the vibe definitely doesn’t scream ‘boy’, and it especially doesn't scream ‘home of a line chef and bartender.’ 

The cream-colored couch in the living room has pretty sage pillows, there’s a tasteful rug under a circular coffee table. On the table are three candles varying in size, as well as a design book that you’d bet has never been opened or looked at in detail by the men who live here.

It’s a comfortable home, but you wonder what it feels like for Mark to live in a space that constantly reminds him of an ex who ditched him for not having his own shit together.

“I didn’t realize Jeno was a tidy guy,” you note, thinking back to the line of dirty cups he always allows to build up in the bar dish area. 

“He’s not, but I am.” Mark enters the living room, and he takes a seat on the couch, kicking his legs up onto a small puff stool next to the coffee table. “I guess when you work on the line, you’re used to doing little clean-up jobs to keep everything smooth. I don’t mind moving two or three beer cans to the sink every day if it means there aren’t any piles building.” 

So he’s a sexy line chef, with tattoos, who likes long-term relationships, and also cleans up his home? Mark really is a catch amongst flounders.

“Are you going to come sit?” Mark asks, noting the way you stand at the edge of the room. “Or, shit, should I offer you a drink first? We’ve got beer, or I could make you a cocktail or something-”

“I’m good, just… getting used to this.” 

It feels kind of odd to be with Mark in a casual setting. You’ve only ever seen him in a professional manner, with an expo station between you both- now, Mark is right in front of you, and as you sit on the couch next to him, you’re hyper-aware of the way your thighs almost touch.

“So… Netflix?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Mark grabs the remote, the sleeve of his hoodie pushed up so you can see his forearms. 

“You still haven’t given me a full tattoo tour,” you tease, reaching out to gently trace the puppy etched against his skin.

“Maybe that’s a date number two sort of thing,” Mark suggests, tugging the fabric down to cover his skin.

Your grin widens. “Do I make you nervous, puppy boy?” 

“Definitely,” he lets out a shy laugh, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob with the effort of swallowing. “So uh… what do you wanna watch?”

You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the couch. “Surprise me.”

“Well, there’s this anime I’ve been wanting to get into-” Mark finds the show in his ‘to watch’ list.

“Let's do it.”

“Really? You’re down?”

“Uh huh, I’m not that picky,” you nod, offering him a smile.

“It can be…” he starts the first episode, “like- if you wanna keep doing this sort of thing, it could be our show.”

“That actually sounds nice,” you admit. You suppose it shouldn’t be a shock that Mark is thinking long term- you do work together after all, but when you’d been seeing Hyuck, every day was a question of longevity. Would he call? Would he not call?

Hyuck never talked in definitives. He never made promises. The only true thing you could count on was seeing him at work three of five days of the week when your schedules aligned, and he never locked himself in for any more than that. 

“Should I-” Mark licks his lips, “I mean, finding a show was way easier than I thought it would be. Do you want a drink? I’ve got chips?”

“I’m okay, but if you want something, you should grab it.”

“I’m good if you’re good,” Mark mutters, leaning back against the couch. Your shoulders are touching, and you’re already finding it difficult to focus on the tv screen as the anime begins to play.

You’re aware of each breath, each slight shift of Mark’s body. “Are you comfortable?” he asks after a short while.

“I mean, we could probably find a more comfortable position than this one,” you note. 

“Like… do you wanna cuddle?”

“If you want to, I’d be up for that.”

“Okay, one sec,” Mark turns, grabbing at the back cushion of the couch. He tosses it to the side. “I can big spoon you.”

In under a minute, Mark is settling behind you, pillows are adjusted, and a gentle hand finds your hip. You wiggle slightly, trying to get snug against the line chef’s chest. 

“Is this good?” he asks, his breath ghosting by your ear.

“It’s nice, but let me just…” you grab his hand, threading your fingers and bringing it up to your chest, so you’re truly wrapped in his embrace. You can feel his heart against your spine, and you can hear the way his breath catches. “That’s better,” you let out a sigh of relief. 

The anime is fun, but you’re much too focused on Mark. Something tells you he’s quite focused on you as well, and finally, your patience snaps. You roll onto your back, looking up at him.

“You good?” he prompts.

“Uh huh. Just thinking.”

“About?”

You shrug. “I guess maybe I’m just wondering what work is going to be like tomorrow.”

“Hopefully busy.”

You laugh at how innocent Mark can be. “I mean in terms of cuddling with you tonight, then working together in the morning.”

“I mean… how was it with Hyuck when you two were seeing each other?” 

Your heart clenches. “Oh… he uh… he told you about that, huh?”

“Mentioned it once or twice.”

“All good things, I hope?”

“For the most part,” Mark nods. “But just so you know- I don’t take everything Hyuck says seriously. You two had something going on, but every relationship is different. I’m sure you have your own side to the story. I know you’re a good person - that’s what my heart tells me at least - so that’s what I’m going off of.”

You stare up at the line chef. The man you’d pegged as a fuck boy, who is turning out to be the farthest thing from a womanizer that you’ve ever met.

You can’t help but reach up and cup his face. There aren’t words that come to mind, but you hope your expression shows your gratitude for his kindness.

Mark’s gaze dips to your mouth, and you watch the way he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing on his slightly. “So no pressure or anything,” he says, voice cracking, “but uh… can I kiss you?”

“You can kiss me,” you confirm, staying still and waiting for the precious man to make his move. Part of you is scared to take control- you’re worried about scaring Mark off, like you’d scare off a wild bird with one wrong muscle twitch. 

You’re still cupping his face, and Mark mirrors the act, gently cupping your cheek. He looks down at you, searching your eyes for a moment. You wonder if he’s looking for any hesitation, any sign that you regret your affirmative answer. Then he looks at your lips, and you can see some of the tension leave his body.

In fact, you see the exact moment Mark decides to give in to his desires. His lips part ever so slightly, his brown eyes shyly meeting your own as he begins to move in closer-

As his mouth presses to your own, you realize this might be the softest kiss a man has ever bestowed upon you. He’s not trying to shove his tongue down your throat- not biting at your lip and asking for entrance. It’s a simple brush of lips on lips, and it leaves you wanting more.

Your hand finds the back of his neck, and you drag him closer, letting out a small mewl. You capture his bottom lip between your own, suckling on it gently-

Mark pulls away, and your eyes open. You’re disappointed, but when you notice Mark breathing heavily, your annoyance dissipates.

“Was that okay?” you ask, worrying that maybe you’d been going too fast for the soft man.

“Yeah- better than okay,” he assures you. 

“Can we… can you kiss me again?”

“Uh huh,” he nods, leaning back down to press his lips against your own. His hand finds your hip, and you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. The kiss is just as gentle as the first, but the passion begins to burn brighter with each passing second.

No one has ever kissed you like this.

You can’t explain it- but in a matter of moments, your attraction to Mark has grown tenfold. 

When he breaks away from you for a second time, you’re both breathing heavily. You open your eyes to stare up at the pretty line chef, watching him swallow thickly.

 “Should we uh… should we keep paying attention to the show?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say after a moment’s hesitation. “Yeah, we should.” You roll onto your side again, and Mark settles against your back. He tucks you closer, his fingers threading through yours. 

It’s impossible to focus now, and you begin to wiggle slightly, pressing your ass back against the front of his jeans.

“Are you uncomfortable?” Mark asks, letting go of your hand to grab your hip, steadying you.

“I’m fine- I’m just…” - unbelievably horny - “you’re a good kisser.”

He lets out a small laugh. “Thanks. I liked kissing you too.”

“So…” you look over your shoulder at him, “wanna kiss me again?”

Mark grins, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

As with the first two times, Mark pulls away much too fast for your liking.

Your head is spinning. You’ve never experienced a situation like this. Mark is being respectful- he’s keeping his hands in PG locations, and the kisses have involved zero tongue- does he not like you as much as you like him?

How much do you like this line chef?

Do you like him because he’s not completely fawning over you like you’re used to?

What is going on?!

“I just want you to know,” Mark says, “it sounds like you’re used to fuck boys and shit, and I uh- well, I’m not like them. There’s no pressure to get naked or anything today-” his voice hitches, “in fact, Jeno will be home soonish so it’s better if we don’t-”

“You don’t want to fuck me?”

Mark tenses behind you. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“If we move to your room, Jeno won’t walk in on us.”

“It’s not about that,” Mark assures you. “Look, I want to take my time with you. This is our first date. I want things to feel right. I want to do this right. Can you understand that?”

You think maybe you’re too horny to want to understand it. 

You want to tear Mark’s clothes off. You want to push him down and ride him until he’s gasping your name and filling you with his cum. You want to feel him still dripping out of you when you go into work tomorrow morning- 

No one has ever made you wait. You’re much too impatient for playing around- and your past lovers have been the same way. 

Even so, you respect the boundary Mark has just expressed. “No fucking tonight,” you agree, “I get that. It’s for the better.”

However, it’s not for the better of your throbbing pussy. 

Seven

God, Mark can’t take his eyes off of you. It’s been two hours since you arrived on shift, and Mark has been distracted for all of it.

You look adorable today. Your black outfit hugs your body just right, and Mark’s mind is consistently wandering to last night, when his hands had traced your hips before lacing your fingers-

When you speak, he finds his focus shifting to your lips- those pretty lips he’d kissed. The lips that had left him wanting more- the lips he’d thought about for hours after you’d gone home. He’d dreamt of kissing you, but it had fallen quite short to the real thing.

You’d sounded hurt when Mark had said you shouldn’t fuck last night, and part of Mark regrets drawing the line in the sand. But on the other hand, Mark had meant it when he said it wasn’t the right time. 

He doesn’t want to bed you after watching a few episodes of anime. You deserve so much more than that. 

Besides, if he had fucked you last night, Mark might have needed to take a sick day just to calm down. Even now, knowing he’s tasted your lips has his skin heating every time he looks at you. 

God, you’ve got him practically bewitched.

As the lunch rush comes to an end, Mark finds time to go outside and vape. He watches the cars pass while he puffs on his device, closing his eyes and imagining your lips.

As his little break is coming to an end, the door hinges squeak behind him, and Mark turns to find you standing there. 

“Oh, hi,” you grin. 

“Hey.” He looks you up and down. “You leaving?”

“Doyoung cut me again, it’s been slow this week,” you nod. 

Mark swallows thickly. He can’t help the way his gaze dips to your lips again.

You step forward, smiling. “You wanna kiss me again, don’t cha, Mark?”

He doesn’t even bother responding. He slips his vape into his pocket, grabbing your hips to tug you closer. As he brings his mouth down to yours, he pauses for a second, meeting your gaze. If you want to pull away, he gives you ample time, but instead, you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, closing the distance between your lips.

You take more control today than last night. You lick at his lower lip, not doing too much tongue, but providing just enough that it has Mark’s skin tingling with need. His fingers dig against your hips, pulling you tighter. 

The kiss deepens, and Mark’s entire heart lurches in his chest when you let out a pleased mewling sound.

Fuck, he loves your sounds already- you sound so fucking pretty-

“Jesus.” Head Chef John’s voice makes Mark practically jump, and he tears his lips away from your own, eyes immediately finding his boss, who’s standing by the exit door. “Damn, newbie, you work fast, don’t you?”

Mark’s skin feels like it’s on fire, and he’s quick to let go of your hips, stepping away and running an awkward hand through his hair, “Chef-”

“Don’t tease him, Johnny,” you sigh. “You nearly gave Mark a heart attack sneaking up on us like that.”

“I’m shocked neither of you heard the door.”

“We were busy!” you insist, raising your voice in jest at the head chef.

Mark is shocked at the way you talk so easily with his boss. But he supposes you’ve been at the restaurant for over a year- maybe you’re closer with the tall head chef than Mark realized.

“Look, I’ll say what I said when Hyuck was trying to get with you, sunshine,” Johnny grins, reaching into his pocket to pull out a jacked-up vape pen. “As long as you use protection we’re good, I can’t have my line chefs becoming fathers and taking time off.”

“And I’ll say what I said last time you told me to wrap it: never gonna happen.” 

“IUD’s aren’t a hundred percent viable,” Johnny points out, making Mark nearly choke on air.

“Mine has been so far, so stick it old man.” You turn to Mark, “Don’t mind him, he’s protective.”

“I was protective with Hyuck, because he’s a douchebag, but Mark seems okay,” Johnny laughs. 

“Thanks?” Mark can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

“Listen, I’ll text you okay?” You grab the front of Mark’s apron, pulling him in so you can press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Have a good rest of your shift.”

Mark watches you dart off. He’s tongue-tied, skin still flaring, heart racing in his chest.

“She’s a good one,” Johnny muses. “Best expo girl we have. Don’t fuck it up, Mark, I’ll fire you before we get rid of her.”

“Trust me,” Mark coughs, “I wasn’t planning on fucking things up any time soon.”

Eight

In the year you’ve had your solo apartment, you’ve not had any guys over. Your MO is to go to the man’s place so you can dip out whenever you get anxious or tired. Inviting a man over to your safe space woman sanctuary is new. The nervousness is manifesting physically; you’re fussing over the overswept floor and the frill on your couch blanket when Mark texts you that he’s arrived. 

With one final breath, you head down to the lobby to let Mark in.

He’s in blue jeans and a black hoodie that sets off the blonde tone of his hair. You’ve been meaning to ask him about who does his bleach out, but you know men can be touchy about their physical appearance and certain body modifications, so you’ve been holding yourself back.

He looks good. That’s all that really matters. 

“Hey,” Mark grins as you open the door, pulling you into a hug. 

“Hey, yourself,” you smile back, pulling away from the embrace to lead Mark to the elevator. You can hear the line chef following you, and you suddenly feel self-conscious about your building. 

“It’s a nice place,” Mark notes, as if he can read your mind. “New build?”

“I think it’s been here like three or four years? I moved in last winter.”

“Right,” he nods, coming to a stop next to you as you hit the button to call the elevator. 

You can feel him staring at you, and it’s making you even more nervous. “What?” you ask, letting out a short laugh.

“Nothing, you just uh… you look cute.” 

“I’m literally in PJ’s.” Your gaze dips to your simple fuzzy purple shorts, and the tank top you’re wearing.

“But they’re nice. I’ve only ever seen you in work outfits, and when you came over last time you were in jeans. You look cute dressed down like this.”

You’d been worried about being so casual with Mark- dressing for comfort instead of the need to impress, but it seems you’ve succeeded in both comfortability and making a good impression. 

“Thank you,” you smile, your insides practically glowing from the compliment. No other man has seen you this way and called you cute- it’s one of the reasons you usually dip out from a man after sex. There’s no comfort or getting comfortable- your other relationships have always been rigid, a push pull and need to be perfect at all times in order to be deserving of attention.

You make it up to your floor, and another wave of anxiety washes over you as you let Mark into your small apartment. “It’s not much,” you sigh, “but it’s home.”

Mark slips off his sneakers by your door, looking around. “No, I like it,” he assures you. “No roommates kicking around- I bet living alone is pretty relaxing.”

“It can be, but it’s also lonely at times,” you admit.

“Well, if you get lonely here, you can always call me and I can come entertain you.”

Mark’s words give an air of longevity. He sounds certain about this, as if it’s a given that he’s part of your life now, as if he’s not going anywhere. 

You’re not sure what to make of Mark. You’ve never really had steady consistency from a man- but he seems so sincere, it makes you want to be hopeful, and hope can be a dangerous thing for a girl like you.

“So uh… can I get you something to drink?” you ask. “We’re just watching anime right?”

“I’m good. If I get thirsty, I’ll let you know,” Mark assures you, taking a seat on the couch in your living room. “Should we uh… should I move some of these pillows so we can cuddle again?”

You grin, pouring yourself a cup of water. “If you want to cuddle, we can cuddle.”

“I want to cuddle,” Mark states, immediately grabbing at the cushions and rearranging your space to allow for you both to lie down. 

He’s adorable. Laying down in front of him already feels kind of natural. The way he grabs your hip and tugs you close to his chest has your heart singing, and his breath against the back of your neck is as familiar as anything.

Not much needs to be said as you start your anime. You’re simply enjoying the comfortability of companionship- companionship lacking any pressures or timeframes. You’re two souls sharing your moments together.

It’s a different feeling for your mind to go blank while you’re with Mark. You’re shocked by how safe you feel in his embrace. 

You talk here and there, the two of you discussing moments in the anime, but conversation doesn’t get much deeper than that. You actually kind of enjoy not having to use your brain, and you’re definitely enjoying the warmth of the man behind you.

“I’m uh, gonna take my hoodie off,” Mark tells you, shifting slightly. 

“Okay.” You give him space, turning to look over your shoulder as he lifts the fabric off his body, revealing the white tshirt below. “Wait, can you give me a deeper tattoo tour now?”

“Uh…”

“You said you’d give me a proper tour on the second date,” you tease, hooking your finger in the neck of his shirt and gently pulling, giving yourself a tiny peak of marked skin along his collarbones.

“I guess I did say that, didn’t I?” Mark laughs sheepishly. “Okay,” he takes a deep breath, sitting up again and grabbing the hem of his shirt.

As Mark reveals his chest to you, you’re a little taken aback by what you see.

Generally, you’re pretty good at guessing a man’s build under his clothing, but Mark is much more toned than you thought he would be. It’s clear he works out, and the muscles you see are amplified by tasteful placement of tattoos littering his torso.

“Where do I even start?” Mark asks, looking down at himself.

“Wherever you want to.” You turn to face him, anime forgotten in the background.

He brushes his own fingers across one of the ferns decorating his collarbones. “These are my mom’s favourite plant.”

“Her favourite plant?” you grin.

“Yeah, I know, most moms have a favourite flower, but my mom kind of really likes ferns.”

“Sounds like you’re close with her,” you note.

“I’m a complete mama’s boy,” Mark admits with a laugh, which is when your gaze lands on a heart with the word ‘Mom’ tattooed on his ribs.

“I see that.” You reach out and gently brush the mark.

The line chef shivers under your touch, the muscles in his abdomen jumping deliciously. You wonder how ticklish he is. 

“Then this one,” Mark touches the moth blooming out from his sternum, “was just really cool and the artist needed someone to practice on, so I said, let’s do it, fuck me up.”

You grin at his choice of words. Mark can be kind of reserved at work, it’s interesting to hear his dirty mouth now that you’re alone. 

You kind of love listening to him as he continues with the tour, tracing the lined patch work. Each mark is another story or detail about the line chef you’re starting to fall for, and you commit his words to memory. 

He’s done the tour of his tattoos much too fast for your liking. You trace the last of the marks, a dagger on his bicep. 

Laying on your back with Mark on his side next to you, things feel very intimate, especially now that his focus has shifted away from his tattoos and is solidly fixed on you.

His hand finds your abdomen, and he gently lines the curve of your hip with his fingers.

Neither of you say anything, caught in the peaceful quiet and moments of mutual discovery. 

His fingers brush by your rib cage, and you’re struck by the need for more. Gently placing your hand over his, you prompt him up higher, until his palm is placed over your breast. You sneak a glance at Mark, noticing the way he swallows thickly.

“Are you a boobs man, Mark?”

“I mean… who isn’t?”

You grin at his answer. “Should I take my shirt off? It’s only fair, right? Yours is off.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he assures you.

“I want to take my shirt off.”

“Then take your shirt off,” he says quietly.

You sit up, quickly discarding the fabric before laying back down again. Now you’re just in a bra and PJ shorts. Mark sucks in a breath, his hand finding your bare hip. Once again, you have to guide his touch up to your breast. This time, when he squeezes you, his thumb rubs over the swell of plump flesh.

You can feel your nipple hardening with interest, pressing against the cup of your bra. “We should take this off next,” you suggest, grabbing at your strap.

“Yeah?” Mark’s eyes widen as he looks at you, his lips parting as he breathes heavier.

“I mean, unless you want me to keep it on?”

“Like I said,” the line chef brushes his thumb over your skin again, “do whatever makes you most comfortable.” 

You sit up again, reaching behind your back to undo the clasp. For a moment, you pause. This is a line you won't be able to uncross. You’re about to show your coworker your boobs. Your sweet, honest, adorable, line chef coworker, who gazes at you with stars in his eyes- your fuck boy look alike secret softie-

You undo your bra, throwing it off the couch before laying flat again. This time, you don’t have to prompt Mark’s hand, he gently traces his fingers up your ribs until he’s cupping your breast. He watches you tentatively, sucking his lower lip into his mouth as his thumb brushes over your hardened nipple.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” Mark says, firmly this time.

“Come here,” you reach up to cup the back of his neck, drawing his lips to yours. He kisses you like he’s afraid you might break, but when you whimper, he responds with a groan, deepening the passion as his tongue glides against your own.

His hand kneads your breast, making you moan again, pushing up toward his palm. You can feel the desire growing between your legs as he kisses you, and you reach out to trace his chest. Your touch begins to lower, fingers grazing over his abdomen-

Mark breaks the kiss, nuzzling against your jaw to prompt your face to the side so he can access your throat. He peppers your skin in soft kisses, slowly descending until he reaches your collar bones-

You realize what he’s about to do and tangle your fingers through his soft blonde hair, pushing your chest up in silent affirmation. “Mark-” you whimper, rewarded when his wet lips wrap around your nipple.

Fuck, he feels so good-

Has anyone ever felt this good?

Maybe it’s the waiting- the going slow, or maybe it’s just the fact that Mark makes you feel safe, but regardless, each touch, each brush of his lips and tongue, has you mewling. You’re pretty sure you’ve soaked through your panties at this point, your pussy practically throbbing with each flick of his wet muscle against your pebbled nipple.

“Mark?” you whisper, tightening your grip in his hair. “Are you…” you swallow thickly. “Are you going to fuck me?”

The line chef pulls away from your breast, looking up at you with dark chocolate eyes. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do-”

“What if I want this?”

“I usually don’t sleep with girls on the second date-”

“Make an exception?” you plead. 

You haven’t been fucked in a few weeks, and you’re feeling desperate. You want to connect with Mark on that physical level, and sex is always the way you do that with men. You want him to feel good, to give him a reason to stick around like he says he will.

“But wait-” you feel your skin heat, “I have something I should tell you first.”

Mark cocks his head to the side, waiting for you to continue.

“I uh… I’m going to be super real with you right now.” You take a deep breath. “Look, I read a lot of smut? That’s like- I read a lot of erotica, written porn, I guess- and, in smut, and porn especially, girls always just cum so easily- and I wish I was that type of person, but I’m not. No guy has ever… you know, gotten me there. What I’m trying to say is, I can have fun even without cumming. So if I can’t get there with you, it’s not you, it’s literally me-”

“Hey,” Mark reaches up to cup your cheek, cutting off your rambling. “Thanks for telling me, but there’s no pressure. Whatever happens, happens. For some girls, you have to get more comfortable. My first girlfriend was like that too, and there’s never any judgement from me. I’m willing to wait for you to feel safe enough that your body relaxes.”

“You are?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures you. “I mean, I can’t promise that I’ll be as good as the guys in your books or in porn. Dirty talk is something I have to get used to using too, but, if we give it time, I’m sure we’ll figure each other out.”

You search his eyes, processing what he’s just said. Then you give him a small nod. “That sounds good to me.”

“Good.” He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours. “But, if we’re going to do this, I’d like for us to go to your bedroom, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course.” You sit up, getting off the couch quickly while Mark follows. As you get to the door of your bedroom, you look over your shoulder, snaking your fingers into your shorts and pulling them down.

“Fuck-” Mark groans, eyes taking in your body.

You can see a half chub pressing against the denim of his blue jeans, and your pussy throbs again. “Come on, puppy boy,” you tease. 

He’s quick to catch you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his chest to your back. His lips find your neck and you giggle, moving toward your bed while dragging the line chef with you.

“You’re so pretty,” Mark groans, tracing your curves with one hand while the other reaches to grab your breast.

Turning in his arms, you press your lips to his, enjoying the way each kiss gets deeper. He’s relaxing against you, his tongue exploring you more and more. 

When you make it to the bed, he gently prompts you to sit down. You look up at Mark, watching him take in your form. “How did I get this lucky?” he asks.

“You asked me out,” you remind him. “So you did this all yourself, Mark.”

“Did I?” he grins, sinking to the floor.

You’re surprised by the new position, surprised by the way he gently parts your knees, his gaze finding your hot core. 

“Can I take these off?” he questions, gently tugging at your panties.

“Yeah-” you whisper.

Most guys don’t eat you out as an appetizer. In fact, you have to ask most men to go down on you- but here’s Mark, doing it all of his own accord. And he looks so needy- in the best possible way.

Mark slips your panties down your legs, and then his lips find your calf. He begins kissing up your skin, spreading your thighs to accommodate him. 

“You don’t have to-” Your words are lost when he presses a kiss to your clit.

“Don’t have to what?” Mark asks, looking up at you.

“Don’t have to eat me out-”

“I want to eat you out,” he confirms. “I’ll eat you out for as long as you want me to- but, when you need more, just say something, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh,” Mark hums, immediately pressing his mouth against your core again. He licks a wet stripe of your pussy, and it makes your legs twitch on his shoulders.

You relax against the mattress, closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of Mark pleasuring you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, keeping him where you need him. He focuses on your clit, circling it and toying with it.

It feels amazing- it does, but there’s some sort of mental block in your brain. You wish you could just cum from this, but the more you think about that, the more you distract yourself from Mark. God, you almost feel bad making him eat you out like this- he’s not getting anything-

The overthinking is something you’re used to, and try as you might to talk yourself down from the ledge of sexual issues, you can’t relax. You can’t focus on Mark, and it frustrates you to no end.

Finally, after what feels like hours of him eating you out - although it must only be a few minutes - you gently tug his hair. “Want your cock now,” you tell him.

“Yeah?” Mark wipes his hand across his mouth, looking up at you with pupils blown from lust.

“Please,” you nod. 

“Should I uh- should I grab a condom?”

You’re quick to shake your head. “We’re both clean right?”

“Yeah-”

“I have an IUD, remember? I want you to cum inside of me.”

Mark draws in a shaky breath. You watch him swallow thickly, then he stands up, undoing his blue jeans. When he pushes down his pants, he moves his underwear too, and just like that, your favourite line chef is standing naked in front of you.

He’s got a pretty cock. It’s girthy, cut, and must be around seven or so inches. The tip is curved slightly to his left, and it’s leaking precum even though you’ve hardly touched him.

Did Mark really get that turned on just from eating you out?

“Come here,” you offer him a small smile, shifting up your bed until your head reaches the pillows. You open your arms for Mark, watching him press a knee onto the mattress and approach you. Your legs wrap around his hips, and you drag him into a kiss.

The kiss is passionate, but there’s a tentative energy to it as Mark’s cock presses between your pussy lips, collecting the juice and saliva that’s congregated there. 

“Are you sure about this?” Mark asks, panting against your mouth. 

You open your eyes to look up at him, nodding.

“I uh… I need to hear you say yes.”

“Yes, Mark, I’m sure about this,” you say, trailing your fingers through his hair. “Please, I want you.”

He searches your eyes, then, with a final nod, he kisses you again. One of his hands slides between your bodies, and you feel him line his cock up with your core. Your legs tighten around his hips, and it’s something like a united effort when his length sinks into your pussy.

You both groan against each other’s lips. The kissing stops, but you remain close enough that your noses are touching. His breath is hot against your skin, and he begins to fuck you slowly, his cock filling you perfectly.

“You feel so good,” Mark groans. 

All you can do is moan in response, drawing his lips back to yours while he fucks you.

You get lost in the feeling of him, and the kissing does aid in calming down your tumultuous thoughts. You can focus on the pleasure that thrums through you with each thrust, the way his cock glides against your inner walls and stretches you out.

Mark grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers and pressing you against the bed, his hips working faster. His tongue is eager against your own, and he eats up your soft whimpers. His groans and grunts of effort make your soul sing, your heart beating quickly in your breast.

“Shit,” Mark pulls away from the kiss, looking down at you. “It’s been a minute since I’ve- since I’ve slept with anyone,” he admits. “I’m uh… pretty close.”

“Want you to cum,” you tell him.

“Yeah?”

“Please- want you to fill me up-”

Mark groans, pressing his lips against your own. You kiss him desperately, tightening your legs around his hips. He squeezes your hand, his groans muffled by your mouth.

His hips work faster and faster- then, all at once, he kind of just stops. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, and his grip on your hand is tight as he coats your insides with his cum.

You hold him through his high, your free hand petting his hair while he brings his lips to your neck, panting desperately and kissing your skin. 

He lets out a sigh of relief as he finishes. Mark pulls away from your throat, looking down at you. You can tell there’s something he wants to say, but it’s clear that he’s not able to find the right words. “I, uh…” he licks his lips. “Should I grab you a tissue or something?”

“Yes, please,” you laugh, letting go of him so he can get off the bed. You watch him look around your room, finding your tissues on the nightstand. 

His legs are as covered in patchwork tattoos as the rest of him, and you’re pleased that the tour will continue another day. He hands you the tissue. “Do you want to use the bathroom first?”

“You can go for it, I just need a second,” you tell him.

Mark nods, pressing one last kiss to your lips before he leaves your bedroom.

You lay there in bed, holding the tissue between your legs to capture any of the cum beginning to leak out of you. 

You’re glad Mark got to cum. You’re not surprised you hadn’t. You just hope maybe one day you will get there, and for some reason, you have a hunch Mark will be the one to achieve an orgasm for you. Or at least, you hope he will. 

Nine

“So did you do it?” 

“Hmm?” Mark looks up from the chicken he’s cutting.

“You had your second date with Sunshine last night, right?” Hyuck presses. “So…. did you do it? Did you make her cum, or what?”

“Why are you so obsessed with this?” Mark sighs, looking at the other side of the kitchen where John is working. “We shouldn’t be talking about this here.”

“Nah, this is the perfect place to talk about it,” Hyuck leans against the work station, his back to the head chef. “So I’m guessing you didn’t make her cum.”

“Is that all you were thinking about every time you fucked her?” Mark asks.

“Duh.”

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe that’s the kind of mentality that would make a girl overthink the situation?” Mark shakes his head. “I bet you would watch her super intently and then just ask her to cum.”

“That’s a move, Mark, it’s called having rizz.”

“But it never worked, so was it really rizz, or were you just fucking yourself over?”

Hyuck narrows his eyes. “So now you’re the expert on making girls cum?”

Over Hyuck’s shoulder, John stops what he’s doing and turns to stare at the line chefs. Mark can feel his skin heating, and he opens his mouth to rectify the situation, but Hyuck’s already speaking again. 

“I bet you a hundred bucks you won’t be able to make her cum.”

“Fuck you, I’m not betting money on this shit,” Mark hisses. 

“Sounds like something a pussy would say.”

“A pussy with a knife in his hand,” the line chef notes, his grip tightening on the handle. “Look, when I do make her cum, you have to stop bashing her like it’s her fault that you wouldn’t take the time to make her comfortable.” 

“And when you don’t make her cum?”

“It’s not going to happen.” Mark’s not sure where his confidence is coming from, but something in his heart tells him to be firm about this. He’s going to get you there. It might take a few weeks, hell, it might take over a month- but he’s going to get you to the point where you relax enough to cum for him, or so help him God-

Ten

Mark had cum inside of you three times since arriving at seven, and at two am he had finally broached the idea of heading home. “I should probably go,” the line chef had sighed, holding you closer to his chest.

“I mean… you could always just stay over?” you’d suggested.

“Yeah?”

“It’s our third date, why not?” you’d shrugged, cuddling tighter against him. 

You hadn’t planned this, it had just sort of happened, and that’s how Mark had ended up sleeping at your place for the first time. 

He’d woken up half way through the night, voice raspy, hands grabby, moaning about how lucky he was to be here with you. Falling asleep again after he’d railed you had been as easy as breathing, and now, in the morning hours, you’re in the shower to wash off all the cum he’d left on and inside of you. 

Neither of you have to be at work till the afternoon, and you kind of like the idea of lazing around with Mark, who’s still passed out in your bed. 

You take your time with your skin care and hair, and when you finally enter your room, you’re intrigued to find the line chef still asleep. He’s quite handsome like this, all bundled up in your white duvet, blonde hair shining around him like a halo.

You try to be careful as you crawl onto the mattress next to him, but Mark immediately rolls over to pull you tight to his chest. He lets out a soft groan, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

God, why are things so domestic with this boy already?

His hands trail up and down your back, fingers stroking your skin. You’d put on his shirt, but other than that, you’re naked, and it doesn’t take long for Mark to realize that fact. His touch moves down to your hip, sliding under the shirt. His thumb draws circles against your bare skin, and he lets out another moan. 

“Morning, puppy boy,” you laugh.

“Hungry,” Mark whispers. 

“Hmm?”

“I said,” he leans down, pressing kisses to your throat, his lips brushing by your ear when he repeats himself; “Hungry.”

“I can make you breakfast,” you assure him.

“Don’t want food,” Mark says. “Want you.”

In one quick motion he pushes you onto your back, getting on top of you. His breath is hot against your neck, and he tugs on your shirt, pulling it up to reveal your breasts. His mouth wraps around your nipple, and he sucks on it gently, releasing sounds of pleasure. 

You thread your fingers through his hair, letting out a sigh of relief. “Feels good,” you tell him.

One of his hands slips between your legs, his digits teasing your slit. “Always so wet for me,” he groans, releasing your nipple with a pop. “Can I taste?”

Mark is definitely getting more bold with you, but that’s what happens when you’ve fucked a handful of times, had three dates, and one sleep over. 

“You can do anything you want to me,” you tell him.

The line chef kisses down your abdomen, pushing your legs open as he settles between them. You thread your fingers through his hair as he brings his mouth to your core, licking at your pussy lips. 

Mark is really good at oral. This is the fourth time he’s eaten you out. With each time he presses his mouth to your pussy, part of you gets more and more convinced that you’ll cum this way. When he adds two fingers into your aching core, you’re pretty much sure that it will happen-

It feels so good, and the moans that escape you reflect that. Your hips buck toward his face, prompting Mark to press a palm to your lower abdomen, keeping you pinned.

But every time you think you’re close - every time you’re about to announce it to him - the feeling dissipates. 

You can feel yourself getting more and more irritated with your body, and soon, you give up entirely. “Mark?”

“Hmm?” The vibrations against your clit have your thighs shaking.

“Can I just- can we just fuck? Please? I want you inside of me.”

Mark pulls away from your pussy, his fingers continuing in your hole. “Are you sure? You know I enjoy playing with you like this.”

“I know- but, I just- I’m in my head again. Want your cock in my pussy.”

Mark takes his fingers out of your core, bringing them to his lips to lick clean. Then he crawls up your body, kissing you so you can taste yourself on his tongue. 

“I’ll fuck you,” he says, “but don’t ever think I don’t enjoy being between your thighs like that, okay? You don’t have to cum, I know from the sounds that you make that you enjoy it, and that’s enough for me until you get there, yeah?”

You swallow thickly, nodding. “I’m still in my head.”

“I get that, Sunshine,” he kisses you gently, cupping your cheek as he lines his cock up with your wet hole. “If there’s anything I can do to stop the overthinking-”

“Just fuck me,” you insist, wrapping your legs around his hips.

Mark laughs. “You got it.”

Eleven

“Dude, is that a hickey on your neck?” Hyuck’s annoying voice makes Mark flinch, and his hand immediately flies to slap against the side of his throat.

“What? No.” 

“It totally is,” Hyuck laughs. “Damn, you two must really be going at it a lot.”

“We’re having fun.”

“Fun like two times? Three?”

“Fun like five times in the past twenty four hours.”

“Jesus Christ.” Hyuck’s eyes practically bulge out of his head. “Are you serious?”

“I don’t know what you were talking about with her not being able to sleep next to you. She passed out just fine with me last night.”

Hyuck lets out a deep breath. “Fucking Hell. Maybe I underestimated you. So… did she cum?” 

Mark sighs. He hates to be talking about this while at work. You’re running food, but you could be back at any second, and Mark doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea about all of this. Hyuck is the instigator of these sexual talks, and Mark doesn’t know how much to keep to himself.

“So that’s a no,” Hyuck deduces. “Big ouch.”

“I feel like we shouldn’t talk about this anymore,” Mark says finally.

“Why? Is your pride hurt?” 

Mark lets out another annoyed breath. “I just think it’s disrespectful. You’re an ex fling of hers, you don’t deserve to know everything about her personal life.”

“I don't want to know about her personal life,” Hyuck rolls his eyes. “I want to know about her sex life, there’s a difference.” 

“I’m done talking to you about this,” Mark insists.

“Damn, someone is starting to sound like a protective boyfriend. Jeeze, calm down.”

Mark hates that there’s some truth in what Hyuck is saying. He already feels quite protective of you. He’s got dates planned, things that can make you smile. He pays close attention to you when you speak, looking for your likes and dislikes. 

Mark is falling for you faster than he’d ever care to admit, especially not to Hyuck of all people. 

Twelve

“Who does a staff Christmas party in January?” Jungwoo asks as a bunch of you take the big table after the restaurant has closed.

“We were all too busy at Chirstmas time, remember?” Jaehyun says, looking at his waiter friend. “And then there was New Years, and we closed early.”

“I agree with you Woo, a mid January Christmas party feels weird,” you grin, leaning against your favourite server. 

In all honesty, it feels like your managers Taeil and Doyoung just wanted to give you all some time to relax and celebrate. January can be a slow month in the restaurant business, and you’d heard Jeno mention yesterday that there are four or five bottles of wine that no one has been ordering that have to be used up. 

As you begin to drink the wine, the mid January Christmas party makes more and more sense. The chefs have finished their closing tasks, with John joining you first, followed by Hyuck, and finally Mark.

With Jaehyun across from you, Jungwoo on one side, and John on the other, you’re surrounded. Mark sits at the other end of the table, offering you a small smile. You give him a gentle wave in response, giggling to yourself over the rim of your wine glass.

“Gosh, Sunshine,” Jungwoo slides closer to you. “Are you drunk already?”

“You’ve been refilling my glass,” you point out, pouting a little.

“Because you’re a cute drunk,” he grins. 

“A very cute drunk,” Jaehyun agrees, eyeing you from across the table. 

The thing about dating a coworker and it being new means you can’t talk about it. Until there’s a label with you and Mark, you’re keeping your lips shut. As far as Jungwoo or Jaehyun know, you’re single, and the latter of the two has been hitting on you for months.

It feels odd to have Jaehyun calling you cute while Mark is just a few seats down. Your stomach twists into drunken knots, and you wish you could move to be closer to your new secret Boo-

In the periphery of your vision, you note Mark stand up and begin to head to the bar. It feels like the perfect excuse to get some time alone with him, so you hop off of your chair. 

Mark’s grabbed a glass and is beginning to pour himself a beer from the tap by the time you reach him. “Hi, puppy boy,” you grin.

“Hey, Sunshine,” he laughs, looking you up and down. “Jungwoo’s been feeding you the wine, huh?”

“Just like… a normal amount.” God, you can’t help but smile constantly at the boy who has your heart twisting into love sick knots. 

“Are you tipsy?” Mark cocks his head to the side as he finishes pouring his drink.

“Maybe…”

“Can I get you some water?” he suggests.

You lean forward over the bar top, lowering your voice so only Mark can hear you. “I’m thirsty, but not for water or wine.”

It takes Mark a moment to read the innuendo of your words, but then he laughs. “I should get you some water.”

“What if I don’t drink it?”

“What if I ask you to please drink it?” he counters, already filling a cup for you. 

“Okay, fine. Just for you, though.” 

Mark grins as he hands you the glass.

“Why do you take care of me so much?” you ask, as the two of you head back to the table.

“Because,” Mark pulls your chair out for you, “you’re my favourite expo girl.”

“I better be,” you say, teasingly narrowing your eyes at Mark before he walks back to his own seat down the long table.

You begin to nurse your water. Mark’s right about you needing it. The tipsyness has somehow intensified- probably because Jungwoo had insisted you finish your wine glass. You feel blurry as you sit there and listen to your coworkers chat.

“I just don’t like saying chicken breast,” Jungwoo states.

“But that’s what they are!” Yuta, one of the night line chefs, insists. “They’re breasts!”

“I just tell customers that the alfredo comes with chicken, they don’t need to hear me say breast!” Jungwoo fights back. “Jaehyun agrees with me, right Jae?”

“Yeah, I just say chicken,” the man across from you nods.

“Taeyong also just says chicken,” Jungwoo continues. “So right now it’s three to one.”

“Hyuck,” Yuta calls across the table, gaining the attention of the men at the other end. “Do you call it chicken breast, or just chicken?”

“Neither,” Hyuck says confidently. “Thems some chicken boobies.”

You can’t believe the conversation you’re hearing. “I think it’s time for me to leave,” you decide. 

“What? Why?” Jungwoo whines.

“I can’t be here for a discussion about chicken.”

Jungwoo slams his hand on the table. “See, she said just chicken too!” 

Yuta points his finger at you like you’re on a game show. “Is that your final answer?” 

You lean forward, pretending his hand is a microphone. “Chicken titties.”

“Yeah, we’re cutting you off,” Jungwoo decides. “You need to go home and sleep.”

“Someone should make sure you get back to your place okay,” Jaehyun notes, standing from his chair.

“I’ll take care of her,” comes Mark’s voice from the other end of the table.

Jaehyun turns to stare at the line chef, who also stands up. 

John is next to you, and you watch a knowing expression appear on his features, grinning as he sips his beer. 

“You still have half your drink left,” Jaehyun insists, “And, I’ve known our little miss Sunshine for much longer than you have. I’m sure she’s probably more comfortable with me taking her home.”

A muscle in Mark’s jaw feathers. You watch him reach down and grab his beer, downing the whole thing in three large gulps before wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

Fuck, the motion reminds you of what he does whenever he eats you out, and you feel almost dizzy thinking about it.

“Who’s it gonna be, Sunshine?” Hyuck grins. “Jaehyun, or Marky boy?”

“Let’s go, Mark,” you say, offering Jaehyun a small smile. “We’ll see all you guys tomorrow.”

Jaehyun looks pretty defeated, but you can’t even bring yourself to care as Mark comes around the table to offer you his arm. At first, you think you don’t his help, but when you stumble after one step, you latch onto his bicep.

“I was hoping you’d go home with me tonight,” you whisper as the two of you exit to the parking lot, where Mark’s truck is waiting. He helps you climb inside, smiling and shaking his head.

“Sunshine, if you ever want me to go home with you, you don’t have to get drunk, just ask.”

Thirteen

“I’m really not that drunk,” you insist, making your way over to the liquor cabinet again.

Mark sighs. You’re a grown adult, he can’t keep directing you away from the booze. “Okay, I believe you. What do you want? Let me make it for you.”

“I want…” you think about it for a moment. “An espresso martini.”

“It’s late, won’t the espresso make it hard for you to sleep?” You’re definitely drunk and you both know it.

“I don’t care. Want espresso martini.”

“Okay, Sunshine, you got it.” Mark moves through your kitchen, finding the espresso machine there. He slips a pod into the device, setting up a cup. 

“Can you add honey?” you ask, already moving to the cabinet to grab a bottle. Mark takes it from you, squeezing some of the honey into the bottom of the cup as hot coffee begins to pour over it. “I also want Baileys.”

Mark laughs a little, shaking his head as you stumble to grab the large Irish Cream bottle from your cupboard.

“And also ice,” you declare. “Frothed.”

“This is a whole thing, huh?” Mark watches you fill the frother with Baileys. 

“I like what I like,” you insist. “We’re gonna triple froth this.”

“You’re the boss.” Mark reaches into his pocket, pulling out his vape. You’ve been letting him smoke in here, and he appreciates the reprieve as the two of you make this very complicated espresso martini. 

By the time you’re done with it, Mark’s not even sure you could call it an espresso martini. With the amount of frothed foam on top, this drink is something else entirely. 

He watches you lift the cup to your lips, immediately getting foam on your face. You simply giggle and wipe it off, licking your finger clean. Then you dip your digit into the froth, scooping it up and popping it in your mouth.

Mark swallows thickly while watching you do this.

“Puppy,” you groan, “this is so good.” You offer him your finger. “Try it.”

Mark can’t say no to you, so he allows you to dip your finger into his mouth. He licks you clean, watching the way your breath catches. You bite on your bottom lip, swaying a little on your feet.

“Your turn,” you say quietly, holding out the cup.

“My turn?”

“I wanna suck on your fingers.”

Mark knows you're drunk. He knows this probably isn’t the best idea for either of you, but he simply can’t say no to you. Not now, not ever. 

He dips his pointer into the foam, then presents it to you. 

You grab his wrist, keeping him still while you move forward to suck on his finger, releasing a small groan. Mark can already feel the blood rushing to his cock, but he ignores it as he goes for another scoop of froth. 

“Tastes better on you,” you tell him, licking his digit clean again. “More. Please.” 

The way you look at him each time you suck his finger tells Mark that you’re as horny as he is. When he scoops with two digits, you practically mewl as you lick.

“I wanna suck on something bigger,” you state.

“Sunshine,” Mark sighs, “I really don’t want to take advantage-” 

“You’re not. Mark, you’ve eaten me out so many times, please let me return the favour?” You’re already sinking to your knees on the kitchen floor, and the sight of you makes Mark’s cock throb in his jeans. “Please, I just wanna suck you off.”

“You know I can never say no to you.”

As the words leave him your hands find his belt. In moments, you’re pushing his pants down, your grip wrapping around the base of his cock. He watches you lick your lips, your gaze meeting his as you lean forward to take him into your mouth.

Mark immediately lets out a groan. “You feel so good, sunshine.”

You whimper around his length, and the vibration has Mark’s fingers twitching. He reaches for your head, cupping your face while you suck him off. His other hand places your drink on the kitchen counter before falling to his side. The line chef’s head falls back, his eyes closing as he eats up the feeling of you.

“That’s it,” he sighs, loving the way you twirl your tongue around his shaft.

You take as much of him past your lips as possible, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag around him, causing Mark’s eyes to fly open. He looks down at you with concern, but you keep sucking him.

“You don’t have to deep throat me,” Mark assures you, pushing some hair away from your face.

You let out a whine, sinking onto him again, only for your throat to constrict tight around his tip. 

Mark groans. “Fuck, Sunshine, I’m serious.”

The line chef could never do what you’re doing right now. Not because he’s not into cock, but because he has the worst gag reflex ever. He knows what it’s like to choke, and he doesn’t want you sputtering on his cock in the name of pleasuring him. 

When you try to deep throat him a third time, Mark simply pulls you off of him. He’s struck by the view of a string of saliva keeping you connected to his cock, and the way you look up at him in a confused daze has his heart thundering in his chest.

“Enough of that,” Mark says softly. “Let me take care of you.”

He reaches down, gently taking your hands so he can help you to your feet. 

“Bedroom?” he suggests.

You nod, swallowing thickly and wiping at your mouth, then you dart off. You’re awfully agile for a drunk girl, and Mark smiles to himself before following you. By the time he’s made it to the bedroom, you’ve already stripped.

You’re sitting on the bed, grinning at him with a hint of mischief in your eye.

“Take advantage of me, Mark,” you say as he pulls off his shirt.

“Jesus,” Mark whispers. “I hate to say it, but that line is not enticing at all.”

He’s still kind of questioning if this is a good idea, but at the same time, you’ve already fucked on multiple occasions. He knows you want him sober, and especially - it appears - while drunk. 

“Come on, please?” You pout out your lower lip.

Mark slips out of his jeans, joining you on the bed. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss while your legs encircle his hips.

As his cock slips past your core, Mark is shocked at how wet you already are. Booze has really done a number on you, but neither of you are complaining.

“You sure you want this?” he asks.

“Don’t make me beg,” you laugh, “Cuz I will.”

“No, it’s okay,” Mark swallows the lump in his throat. “Just checking.”

Before he can reach for his cock, you beat him to it, grabbing the base and lining his tip up with your entrance. “Fuck me, Mark, I’m begging for it.”

He presses his lips hard against your own as he pushes into your wet hole, both of you groaning loudly at the feeling. 

“Shit,” you whimper, breaking the kiss to look up at him, “I’m so sensitive today-”

“Alcohol does that sometimes,” Mark notes, bringing up a hand to cup your breast. When his fingers pinch your nipple, you let out a high pitched squeal, pushing your chest up toward his palm. 

“Fuck, Mark-” Your pussy clenches tight around him, and the feeling makes Mark dizzy. 

“You sound so good, Sunshine, and you’re gripping me so fucking hard-” Mark begins to fuck into you. Your nails claw at his arms, your head thrown back, eyes closed.

Mark reaches down to rub your clit. You shudder below him, legs tightening around his hips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck-” you moan loudly. “Just like that-”

He applies more pressure to your sensitive bud, making your hips buck toward him, your core clenching him in a death grip. 

“If you keep squeezing me like this, I’m not going to last long-” he warns you, tension building in the base of his cock.

“I want you to cum,” you insist, opening your eyes to look at him.

“Don’t you want to try and get there too?” he asks. 

“I don’t-” you swallow thickly, “I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“Let me fuck you a little longer, yeah?” Mark prompts. “I can wait a bit. Actually, we should switch positions.”

“To what?”

“Can you get on your knees for me?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you nod quickly. As soon as Mark pulls away, you’re flipping over, pushing your ass into the air for him.

“Fuck, what a view,” he breathes, hands smoothing across your bum. 

You whimper, and the sound encourages Mark to slip himself into you again. The sigh of relief that leaves you has Mark’s skin tingling, his grip finding your hips. 

“It’s so deep,” you groan, tangling your fingers in the sheets.

You’re right about that- your wet pussy is taking every inch Mark has, and each smack of his hips against your ass has you getting even wetter. He’s pretty sure you’re dripping down your thighs at this point, and his fingers dig into your skin even harder.

The sounds you’re making are like music to his ears. Your grip on his cock is insane. Mark’s pretty sure tonight is going to be the night that you cum- but as he continues fucking you, it becomes more and more clear that only one of you is going to get there- and fast. 

“Fuck,” Mark grunts, his heart racing in his chest as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. 

“Cum in me,” you insist, reaching behind yourself.

Mark grabs your hand, lacing your fingers and holding you against the small of your back.

“You really want me to cum?” he asks, breathless.

“Please,” you nod, squeezing his hand. “Wanna be full.”

Again, Mark can’t say no to you.

“Okay, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he whispers, fucking you even harder. “Shit-” 

His orgasm hits straight on, tingling through his entire body like an electric jolt. He pushes his cock into you as deep as it can go, feeling it throb as he coats your walls in cum. Mark throws his head back, eyes closed, overcome by the pleasure that courses through him.

He’s not the type that can fuck someone through his high. When he cums, he has to stop, has to experience the feeling in full. His mind goes completely blank…

But his first thought when the words come back is that he should tell you he loves you.

Fuck. This is becoming a problem. 

Every time he cums deep inside of you, his feelings grow. He’s overwhelmed with this sense that you’re meant to be, that he should just lock you down and let you know how much you mean to him.

But as always, that logical side rears its head, reminding Mark that it’s only been a few weeks of seeing each other. He needs to take things slow- for your sake. He doesn’t want to scare you away. Being a safe space for you includes watching his tongue, it means not putting pressure on you like this- 

If there’s one thing that will pressure you, it’s the admittance that he’s kind of in love with you.

Instead of saying what’s on the tip of his tongue, Mark pulls out of you. He gets you a tissue for the cum that begins to drip out of your pussy, and a cup of water to make sure you’re hydrated. Once you’ve both cleaned up in the bathroom, he cuddles you close to his chest, stroking your back and listening to you breathe.

To Mark’s complete shock, you fall asleep on him within minutes. 

It’s a sign that you’re truly feeling safe with him, and Mark thinks he must be going in the right direction. He’s careful not to wake you up, he simply enjoys the feeling of holding you close while you rest.

Fourteen

You wake up slowly, cuddling closer to the warmth next to you. It takes you a moment to realize that the heat is coming from Mark, and you open your eyes to stare at him.

“Morning,” Mark grins, putting down his phone to watch you. “Sleep well?”

“Shockingly well,” you grin, snuggling closer. “You?”

“I like sleeping next to you,” Mark muses, wrapping his arms around you. “You know, I was thinking I could make you breakfast or something. Neither of us have work today.”

“Breakfast?” You perk up.

“Yeah, I can cook most breakfast or brunch foods, but uh… don’t ask me to make eggs.”

“Eggs?” You raise your brows, looking at him with a laugh.

“I know, it’s stupid cuz I’m literally a line chef, but I never went to school for it, remember?” Mark grins, stroking your skin. “John tried to teach me during brunch last week but I just- don’t have the patience for eggs.”

“Poor John, hired a chef who can’t cook eggs,” you tease. “Are you sure you don’t want something else for breakfast?”

“Like what?”

“Like… me?” 

Mark laughs. “As much as I’d love to fuck you today, I feel like- maybe it would be nice to not sleep together this morning... You know this isn’t just sex for me, right?”

“Yeah, but… sex is nice, isn’t it?”

Mark strokes your cheek, meeting your eyes. “Sex with you is always nice, but I think I kind of want to be domestic with you today instead, if that’s okay.”

Your heart clenches in your chest at his words. You can’t help but lean forward and kiss him gently. “That’s okay with me.”

“Good,” Mark grins. “Let's cuddle some more, and when you get hungry, I’ll take care of the food.”

As you slowly wake up next to Mark, you’re struck by how comfortable you are. Being with him like this feels natural. There’s no pressure to fuck, no need to suck dick in order to earn affection- Mark simply cares about you, and it’s clear in the way he holds you.

If you’re not careful, you could get used to this.

Fifteen

Since the ‘Christmas’ party, Mark’s been wanting to broach the subject of Jaehyun with you, but in the handful of times he’s slept over with you since then, it’s just never come up.

Today, watching Jaehyun talk with you by the bar, the question is fresh on Mark’s mind, and he only has one person he can justifiably ask about it.

“So… how close are Jae and y/n?”

“Hmm?” Hyuck looks up from the burger he’s stacking. “Oh, those two? Pretty close.”

Mark groans at the lack of detail. “Did they ever date?”

“I think she’s definitely his work crush. Pretty sure he’s asked her out a few times, but I don’t know if she realized it was a date sort of thing.” Hyuck laughs to himself. “I actually walked in on him asking her out around Halloween, but I think she thought it was a group idea. She rejected him though.”

“Looks like he hasn’t taken the hint,” Mark says, mouth forming a firm line.

“Nah, Jae has a pretty big ego. I mean, you’ve seen his face. He’s not used to rejection, it doesn’t compute for him.”

Mark doesn’t say anything, he simply goes back to the alfredo he’s cooking. But it becomes clear that Hyuck doesn’t want to let this go.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you, Marky boy?”

“No.”

“Yes, you totally are,” Hyuck grins. “How long have you and Sunshine been seeing each other now?”

“Like… three weeks? A month almost?”

“Have you talked about being exclusive or anything?”

“Not really.”

Hyuck rolls his eyes. “It’s a yes or a no, Mark. There’s no ‘not really,’ when it comes to ‘the talk.’”

“No, we haven’t talked about it,” Mark admits with a sigh.

“Sounds like something you want though, right?” Hyuck presses.

“I thought I said I wasn’t going to talk to you about this anymore.”

“You’re the one who brought up Jae,” Hyuck points out, raising his hands in mock defense. 

Mark supposes Hyuck is right about that. He’s been considering defining the relationship recently- thinking about how a label could offer you safety, stability, things that are needed to help you relax. 

But now, the label transcends the use for comfortability and cumming, it almost feels needed.

You’re hot. Mark knows that. He sees the way people hit on you every day while you’re working. At first, he’d been okay with it- but now, he thinks maybe he needs something more. Maybe he needs the comfort of knowing that you’re taken, by him. 

He’s not the type to feel insecure, and he’s not even sure that insecurity is the right word for what he’s feeling.

All Mark knows, is that he wants to get to the next level with you, and he’s going to pull up his big boy pants to finally do it.

Sixteen

You’ve been at home for a few hours, having been cut from work early since it was a slow day, and you’re a little surprised when Mark calls you around dinner time.

“Hey you,” you grin, collapsing onto your bed to give Mark your full focus.

“Whatcha doin?” he asks.

“Just sitting here, was thinking of watching a movie. How about you? Just got off work?”

“Yeah, in a minute, just taking a vape break first. I was thinking maybe you’d let me see you when I’m off?”

“Definitely, you know my door is always open for you. But I should warn you, I have literally nothing in my fridge.”

“That’s okay, I’ll make your favourite and bring takeout,” Mark assures you. “See you in like… half an hour?”

That’s how Mark shows up on your home a short while later. You look him up and down, taking in his work outfit. “Didn’t wanna change after shift?” you grin, holding your door open for him.

“I uh, wanted to see you. Need a shower, so I figured I’d put on my fresh clothes after that.”

“Sounds good, you know that my home is your home. Go shower, I’ll put our food in bowls.” You accept the takeout from Mark, intent on turning to head to the kitchen- only for him to pull you back into an embrace.

“Hi,” he mumbles, kissing the side of your head and nuzzling against your hair.

“Hi,” you grin, turning in his arms to press your lips to his. “Go shower.”

“You got it.”

Mark goes into your bathroom, and a moment later you hear the water begin to run. You take your time in the kitchen. Mark has made himself alfredo, and he’s cooked your favourite rice bowl for you. You smile to yourself while plating the food, loving how domestic things have gotten with Mark.

Part of you is tempted to join Mark in the shower, but you’re not sure if you’re there yet, so you wait patiently for him to finish. This isn’t the first time he’s showered at your place, and you trust he’ll see his designated towel hanging on the hook behind your door. 

You kind of enjoy that he’s gotten so comfortable at your home. You’ve been spending so much time with him here and at work that it feels kind of odd when he’s not around. 

Soon, Mark is coming out of the bathroom. He’s in sweatpants and a tank top that shows off his tattoos. You have to actively stop yourself from drooling as you move to sit at the dinner table.

“So… did you need to talk to me about something?”

“Hmm?” Mark sits across from you.

“We didn’t have plans, you called and wanted to come over, I guess I’m just wondering if you had a specific reason.”

“Can’t I just miss you?” he grins.

Despite his words, it’s clear that there’s more to it, however you drop the issue. When Mark is ready to be real with you, he will be. You have time until then.

Mark begins to talk about work, how it had gotten busy after you’d left. You listen, happy to chat with him while you eat. 

After food, the two of you move to the couch, cuddling up while Netflix starts.

You’re two seasons into your anime already, it’s funny how time flies. You can turn your brain off when Mark spoons you, his lips pressing soft kisses to your shoulder every now and again.

One episode in, Mark reaches over you for the remote, pausing your show. 

“I guess there is a reason I wanted to come over,” he admits finally.

“Yeah?” You turn onto your back, looking up at him. 

“I hate to say that I’ve been jealous, but uh… since the Christmas party, I’ve been a little jealous about you and Jaehyun.” Mark won’t meet your eyes, and you give him the space to continue. “I just… people are always hitting on you, and I don’t know, I think… I mean, I’m a serial monogamist according to Hyuck, and I know we haven’t been seeing each other for that long, but I only see you, in all ways, and I just… I don’t want to lock you down if you’re not looking for something serious, but I guess I wanted to know how you feel about exclusivity and that sort of thing.”

“With you? Mark… I’d love to be exclusive.” You let out a small laugh. “Don’t you realize that I have to watch girls flirt with you too? Maybe we’ve both been jealous.  I think… locking each other down would be good for us.”

“Yeah?” Mark’s beaming now.

“You’re special,” you confess. “I’ve never been able to sleep next to a guy I’ve slept with, which feels like such a contradiction- but sleep has always come easy with you. I’ve never felt such a lack of pressure- such acceptance, for all of me, the good and the bad. I like you a lot Mark, and I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clear.”

“It’s not that it wasn’t clear,” Mark assures you, cupping your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “I just… I know you have that wild side, which is totally valid, I just wasn’t sure you were a settling down type.”

“I wasn’t so sure I was either, and then I met you.”

Mark kisses you instead of responding, but you can feel the emotion in the press of his lips against yours. He’s elated by what you’ve just said, and you’re close to floating to cloud nine too. 

Even so, there’s something else. You can feel it in the slight tension of his shoulders when your fingers brush over his skin.

“Mark?” you break the kiss, blinking at him. “Is there something else on your mind?”

“It’s just… I know I said there’s no pressure, but I really wanna help you cum. And I’ve been thinking maybe… maybe we could use some of your toys.”

“My toys?”

“Like… some girls cum better with a vibrator, and if you have one, I’d love to use it on you.”

“Really?” You’re shocked. Lots of men think their dick is good enough, they feel emasculated to bring sex toys into the mix- but here’s Mark, being as contrarian as ever. 

“Even if it doesn’t help you cum, I still think it would be fun. I’m not trying to pressure you-”

“We can use my vibrator,” you assure him, heart thundering in your rib cage at the mere thought of it. 

No man has ever used a sex toy on you- it’s probably one of the reasons you’ve never cum with a lover before.

“Come on,” you sit up, heading to your bedroom while Mark follows. “I keep my toys in the closet,” you explain, bending down to find the shoe box that stores your vibrator. You pull the device out, showing it to Mark. “Is this going to work?”

“Yeah, it will work.” Mark watches you stand up, and he holds out his hand for you to pass the toy to him. “I’m uh… I’m gonna put this down so I can get you naked.”

“Okay,” you grin.

He sets the vibrator on your bed gently, turning to you. Mark grabs your face first, pulling you in for a kiss. He’s gentler than you thought he would be, but you don’t mind it. You like getting lost in the feeling of Mark, allowing him to guide you toward the bed.

When you reach your mattress, his hands slip down to the hem of your shirt. He carefully removes it, and you lift your arms to help him with the task. Mark doesn’t immediately go for your pants next, he kisses you again instead, cupping your cheek with one hand while the other grabs the small of your back.

His touch is so gentle, smoothing across your skin. It’s making you even more eager, and you find yourself removing his shirt before he begins to work on your sleep shorts. Soon, you’re just in a bra and panties, but even those get taken off. 

When you’re completely bare, Mark gently pushes you down onto your bed, eyes taking in your body.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he muses.

Your skin heats at the praise, and you begin to close your thighs, only for Mark to gently prompt them open. 

“Don’t hide from me, please,” Mark says softly, getting onto his knees at the foot of your bed. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your clit before he pushes his tongue into your wet hole.

You breathe a sigh of relief, threading your fingers through his hair. You adjust your thighs on his shoulders, trailing your toes against his well-defined back. 

He eats you out for a little while, groaning as he goes. It’s clear to you now that Mark enjoys getting his fill of you, and it makes the experience ten times more enjoyable for you. You’ve been getting better at slowing your mind while Mark licks at your clit, better at focusing on him and not all the worrying thoughts that generally buzz around you.

You feel the bed shift, and you open your eyes to see Mark has reached for the vibrator. He turns it on, assessing the way the toy shakes on the lowest setting. “Do you wanna show me where to use this, sunshine?” he asks, holding it out to you.

With a deep breath, you nod, accepting the toy and bringing it to your clit. “I like… a good amount of pressure,” you tell him, showing him exactly where you like the vibrator to be held.

It feels kind of odd to be pleasuring yourself like this in front of Mark, but from the way his pupils are blown, eyes fixed completely on your core, you can tell that he’s enjoying the view. It makes you feel more confident, as you begin to drag the vibrator side to side, teasing yourself. 

“This sort of movement is good too,” you tell him.

“Can I take over now?” he asks.

You nod, allowing him to grab the handle of the toy. 

Now that you’re not the one holding it, you can focus completely on the feeling of your clit being vibrated. It feels amazing, your toes curling at the stimulus.

Mark’s free hand is on your inner thigh, smoothing against your skin, but soon, it joins the vibrator. He teases two fingers along your folds before pushing them into you, crooking them up to find the spongey spot that has you crying out.

“You make such pretty sounds,” Mark tells you, applying more pressure to your clit with the vibe. “Fuck, I could watch you like this all night.”

“Puppy-” you whimper, skin tingling at his words.

“You have no idea how good you look,” he continues. “I swear- I want you to cum, but even if you don’t, I’m not going to be able to forget about this. This view is- fuck, it’s the best view in the world. We’re going to be at work and this is all I’ll be thinking about. I won’t be able to get you out of my head.”

With each admittance, each uttered word of praise, you can feel the tension building in the pit of your stomach.

“Can you grind on this a little, sunshine? Grind on my fingers and your toy?”

“Yeah-” you whimper, hips moving as you try to follow with his prompt. 

“That’s it-” Mark groans. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

His fingers work harder inside of you, and the added pressure makes you squeal. You can’t help the way one of your arms comes up to cover your face, muffling your sounds as your body moves on it’s own accord now. You’re grinding against his hand, grinding against the vibrator that sends tremors of pleasure through your entire form.

“I’m so fucking lucky,” Mark tells you. “So lucky that you’re mine- I could watch you like this for hours and not get bored.”

“Mark-” you groan. Usually, when you acknowledge an orgasm building, it dissipates, like some cruel trick of fate, a complete defiance of the laws of physics- but this time, when you whimper “I’m close” the feeling doesn't fade, it only builds.

“Yeah?” Mark sounds shocked. “All it took was a vibe, huh?”

“And… and your praise-”

“You like when I talk dirty to you, sunshine?” Mark asks. “Like it when I tell you how perfect and pretty you are?”

“Yes-”

“Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me? Or should I finger fuck this cute little pussy even harder?”

“Oh my God-” you whimper. Mark has truly gotten comfortable with you now- he’s not holding back with his sinful words, and they make your stomach pull into a tight knot. “Please, harder-”

Mark presses the vibrator against your clit, turning up the vibration with his thumb while his fingers continue their brutal pace inside your core.

You find yourself gasping, unable to speak as he works you closer and closer-

“Cumming-” you whisper, your orgasm slamming into you like a train. 

Your breath catches, waves of pleasure surging through you. Your fists grip the sheets, your back arches, your thighs quaking around Mark. Whimpers and moans fill the room, your core pulsating around Mark’s fingers while he works you through your high.

“That’s it,” Mark groans. “That’s my good girl.”

“Puppy-” you breathe, the feeling almost becoming too much for you.

“What do you need, sunshine?”

“Your cock,” you blurt out. 

“Yeah?” Mark’s fingers slow inside your pussy. 

“Please, wanna cum on your cock-”

Mark lets out a breath. “Holy fuck.” He turns the vibrator off, taking his digits from your core. Mark licks them clean before he stands up, pushing down his sweatpants. “Move up the bed for me?” he suggests.

You wiggle up to the pillows, watching Mark get onto the mattress. He allows you to lock your legs around his hips, pulling him close while he crashes his lips to yours.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, kissing him deeply. He ruts his hips, allowing you to feel his cock dragging against your core.

Patience is a virtue, but you don’t have any left. You reach between your bodies, grabbing his hard length to line it up with your pussy. 

Mark slides into you, and you let out an immediate sigh of relief. His fingers had been nice, but his cock is even better. It stretches you open, you can feel him deeper than ever. You gasp against his mouth, dragging him closer as he begins to thrust into you. 

“You feel so good, sunshine,” Mark groans, breaking the kiss so he can press his lips to your throat. 

“Puppy-” you whimper, arching your neck so he has better access to find your sweet spot.

Mark captures your hands, lacing your fingers and pressing you into the bed while he fucks you. 

You can feel him everywhere. You’re completely bewitched by Mark Lee. Your core is practically dripping, each thrust made easy by the wet that exudes out of you. 

Then Mark is reaching for your vibrator. He sits up slightly, looking down at you. “Missionary? Or maybe doggy would be better?”

“I wanna see you when I cum again,” you tell him, accepting the vibrator he holds out to you. “Want you to see me cum with your cock in my pussy.”

Mark lets out a low groan, pressing his lips to yours as you turn on the toy, adjusting it onto your clit.

“If you can’t cum, that’s okay-”

“I think I’ll cum,” you assure him. “Just fuck me hard, and I’ll get there.”

“I can do that,” Mark grins, immediately picking up his pace and adding more power to his thrusts.

“And… tell me I’m pretty again?”

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Mark groans. “I’m so fucking lucky- how did I ever get this lucky?”

“Puppy-”

“You have no idea how into you I am- I love your sounds, love your voice- love the face you make when you feel good- love your smile-”

Each admittance has your heart buzzing in your chest. It’s crazy how easy it is for him to praise you- it almost feels like all these things were built up inside, like he’s a dam that’s just been released, and God, you love the flood.

You press the vibrator harder against your clit, entire body surging with energy. 

“You’re squeezing me so well, baby,” Mark groans, and the sound has your pussy throbbing. “Want you to cum with me so bad, do you think you can cum with me?”

“Yeah, just- kiss me?” you suggest.

Mark presses his lips to yours immediately, cupping your face with one hand. His tongue glides against your own. You eat up each other's sounds, getting completely lost in each other.

In no time at all, another orgasm is building in the pit of your stomach. 

“I’m gonna-” you whimper against his lips.

Mark fucks you even harder in response, and the motion is dizzying. 

“Please, sunshine, cum with me- fuck, I can’t hold it, cum with me-”

His words are your last straw as you explode on his cock. Your core clamps down hard, gasps of extacy escaping you.

To Mark’s credit, he holds off his own high long enough to fuck you through yours, and the moment you begin to be oversitmulated, he cums too. You can feel his cock throbbing in your pussy, his load spilling along your insides and coating your walls.

You kiss him deeply, enjoying his whimpers of pleasure.

You’ve never cum with someone balls deep inside of you before, and there’s a voice in the back of your mind itching for you to tell Mark that you love him- but you bite your tongue. You simply kiss him, holding him close while he finishes.

Finally, Mark lets out a small gasp, pulling away from your lips. His forehead presses against yours, and you’re both breathing heavily.

You’ve never felt this connected to someone in your entire life.

“Are you going to get us tissues?” you ask after a moment, letting out a small laugh.

Mark chuckles, pressing his lips against yours in a chaste kiss. “I just wanna enjoy you a second longer.”

“Puppy, you have literally all the time in the world.”

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I really wanted to kick the year off with something more realistic. I wanted to write about a reader who over thinks, who doesn’t cum super easily like we usually see in fanfic. I wanted to touch on the realism of relationships, the use of sex toys, things discussed in the bonus like whiskey dick, domestic showers together and troubles sleeping next to someone new- I really hope you guys liked this even though it’s not as classic fanfic as I usually write :) 

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “I drank too much,” Mark admits. “Hyuck kept egging me on- I’m pretty sure he wanted to get me blackout so I couldn’t fuck you tonight- But I swear- whisky dick won’t last all night,” Mark tells you. “And, I mean, you know I love using your toys so it doesn’t even matter.” He’s adorable. Of course Hyuck wouldn’t take into account that sometimes Mark is perfectly happy making you cum with your toys and not fucking you at all. Mark truly is a man built for your pleasure, and you’re not surprised that ‘whiskey dick’ hasn’t phased him.

cw/ tw. drunk!Mark, shower shenanigans, fingering, pussy eating, use of toys/g spot stimulator, Mark has ‘whiskey dick’ and can’t get hard at first, unprotected sex, praise, dirty talk, munch!Mark, creampie/fullness kink, etc…  I petnames. (hers) sunshine. (his) puppy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3k I teaser wc. 250

🌙 starring. Mark x afab!Reader

bonus

“Puppy?” You sit up in bed, holding your phone close. Mark’s at some boys night thing, and you really hadn’t expected to hear from him, but here he is, calling you at midnight.

“Hi, Sunshine.” 

“Hi Sunshine!” Someone else screams in the background.

“Oh my god, fuck off, Hyuck!” Mark yells back. “Not you, baby, I’m talking to Hyuck.”

“Yeah,” you laughed, “I gathered that.”

You’ve also gathered that your boyfriend is drunk. You can hear it in his voice, and when he begins to hiccup, it’s even more evident.

“So uh, I wanna see you.”

“You can see me tomorrow, we have dinner plans, right?”

“No, I wanna see you tonight and tomorrow,” Mark insists. 

“You do, huh?” God, he’s adorable.

“Yes, please.”

“Don’t you want to finish boys night?” you prompt, not wanting to get in the way of his time with friends. You know Jeno would get mad about Mark spending time with his ex instead of his boys, and you don’t want to be that girlfriend who restricts her lover from his bros.

“Nah, fuck this,” Mark says. “Jeno went home with a girl, it’s just me and Hyuck and Renjun and Chenle and Jaemin and Jisung-” Sweet Jesus, he’s listing half of your work staff. “But I wanna be with you. I can call a cab and be at your place in like, fifteen minutes?”

“Whatever you want, puppy,” you grin. “I’ll be here.”

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.3k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

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[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-twenty

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: We worked so fucking HARD on this! Please appreciate it and please 🙏 pay attention to everything.

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967 @halloweenaesthetic

NOAH

I stood in front of the mirror, straightening out my shirt, and made sure my hair was perfectly pulled back into the low bun. Excitement filled my veins, making me jittery, knowing that Y/N would be showing up shortly. We all were ready to help her and Malcolm set up for Chase’s surprise birthday party. 

Y/N had been texting me the last couple of days stressing out about every last-minute detail for this party. Chase was never big on celebrating his birthday but he was turning twenty-five so she and Malcolm wanted to make sure that everything went off without a hitch tonight. 

I also was nervous to see Y/N again after our conversation at Davis’ house the other night because she knew the truth; most of it anyway. Bailey and I were done, something Y/N knew. But with the stress of the party, we couldn’t continue our conversation from the other night. 

The nerves were eating away at me, like a disease, so I started pacing in front of the mirror, trying to hype myself up. I woke up anxious this morning and even after meditating earlier, I still couldn’t get rid of this feeling. 

I pinched my cheeks and smiled. 

“Hi Y/N,” I said to myself. 

No, I sound like an idiot. 

“Hi, angel. You look gorgeous today.”  

Eh, a little bit better. 

I continued to pace back and forth in my room, muttering words under my breath. 

 “Hi, angel. You look beautiful today. I’m happy to have the party here.”

My feet came to a halt as I snorted to myself. “I’m happy to have the party here. Who the fuck says that? That’s so stupid. It’s just Y/N; her. Why am I overthinking talking to her?”

I get those ridiculous butterflies, even in my current state. It’s like being in a botanical garden, waiting for them to emerge. Waiting for Y/N at any stage feels like that. 

“Shit, that’s corny isn’t it?” I muttered under my breath as I ran a hand over my face. 

Another thing I suppose I’ve noticed about myself all this time lately. Growth in words- is this maturity? A grown man with grown feelings. 

I often saw my future as not so bright and wasn’t sure if this thing called life would work out. So, I stood here in front of the mirror in my bedroom and thought that maybe this life that I yearned for would work out and Y/N possibly, maybe, needed to be included in it. 

With a final deep breath, I threw on my leather jacket and then checked myself over in the mirror one last time. The black shirt underneath the jacket was pristine, not a hint of hair or lint, and my white wash skinny jeans had a hole in the knee showcasing the rose tattoo. 

Y/N would be here any minute. My mind went straight to what she looked like, what she’d be wearing, and how badly I wanted her perfume to penetrate my senses.

As I bounded down the first set of steps, I turned on the landing to retreat down the rest of the stairs but came to a halt when her presence was immediately felt. In the threshold stood Malcolm and Y/N, talking with Jesse who answered the door. The bright smile on her face made my stomach twinge in a good way as my breath caught in my throat. 

Her long hair fell to the middle of her back in waves. The black dress hugged every one of her curves in all the right places, stopping right beneath her ass. Her tattoos were on full display tonight. The swell of her breasts poked through the mesh part of her dress that covered her neck and chest.

I wasn’t sure if Y/N having a glowing halo effect was normal, hence why the nickname I had for her only made sense.

Angel. 

It began to feel like she was specifically meant to shine for me alone, a long time ago, even with that time we were distant. I couldn’t possibly imagine another man seeing it or enjoying the warmth Y/N brought. My palms were sweating, I knew this had to be it. I had to make the move.

“You’re such a sweet talker, Jesse,” Y/N giggled while playfully rolling her eyes, tapping his cheek twice.

As I took the last step, stepping into the living room, something fell from her bag causing her to bend over to pick it up. Orie snuck up beside me and tilted his gaze toward Y/N’s ass; something I noticed immediately. 

“Orie,” I seethed low. 

His eyes snapped over to me, a sly smirk on his lips. “Y/N looks good, huh?” 

My jaw ticked but I let out a deep breath while counting to my ten in my head. 

I’m not mad. It’s innocent. It’s Orie, he knows how I feel about Y/N.

As Y/N stood tall, a bright shine from around her neck caught my attention, and gone was the anger replaced with sheer adoration. She was wearing the necklace and bracelet I bought her for her birthday. 

My heart skipped a beat as our eyes finally locked. 

“Hi,” Y/N smiled warmly. 

“Hi, angel.” 

I shifted on my feet, suddenly hot under her bright gaze. She looked absolutely breathtaking in that dress and how it hugged her tits perfectly made my cock throb in my jeans.  She softly tucked a strand behind her ear and our eyes never left each other. Malcolm looked between us, a sly smirk on his lips. 

“Y/N, why don’t you hand me the bags? I’ll start getting things set up while Noah gives you the tour,” Malcolm said while taking the bags of party supplies from her. 

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Sure.” 

As she walked past me, the scent of her perfume filled my senses and my cock now ached when I remembered how pretty she looked while sitting on top of me, her hands grasping my braids. 

“Oh, you smell good,” Y/N smiled up at me as I began leading her to the kitchen so she could set down the rest of the bags Malcolm couldn't carry. 

My cheeks warmed and I rubbed the back of my neck. “Thanks-uh, so do you.” 

“Let me take those from you,” Jolly smiled while giving Y/N a friendly kiss on her cheek. 

“Thank you, Jolly.” She smiled. “Did we get enough alcohol? I ordered the pizzas but I won’t have time to pick them up. Oh shit, I forgot to buy cups!” 

Y/N went to turn on her heels but I gently grabbed her shoulders to keep her in place in front of me, her back to my chest. 

“You need to relax, angel. You're trying to control so much of this party. Let us help you,” I rubbed out the tense muscles in her shoulder. 

“I just want to make things perfect for Chase,” she relaxed in my embrace. “The last few years of his birthday have been filled with unnecessary drama.” 

My nose brushed along her hairline. “It will be fine. Davis will pick up the pizzas and we’ll have Nick buy the cups.” 

“Someone has to pick up Chase. If I go, he’ll be able to read me and know something is up,” Malcolm said while unloading all the party supplies. 

“Fuck, I can’t. My car is filled with the balloons,” Y/N tensed under my touch so I was quick to offer a solution. 

“Okay, so this is what we will do. Davis will pick up the pizzas. Nick will stop at the store to buy the cups. Michael and Orie are in charge of setting up the alcohol. Jolly and Jesse, you guys figure out the music. Folio will pick up Chase. Those two can talk about drums or cymbals.” 

Y/N instantly relaxed once again and leaned her head against my shoulder. “Matt is picking up the cake.”

My hands rubbed her arms. “See? We have everything figured out. There’s no need to stress, angel.” 

“I know,” she let out a deep breath. “Thank you guys for letting us have the party here. It’s a nice place, lots of space. ” 

Michael chuckled while setting up the makeshift bar on the kitchen island. “You’d think so with the five of us but I’m starting to think we’re out-growing this place.” 

“Soon, it’ll be four of you. I move out at the end of the month,” Orie said as he walked into the kitchen, giving Y/N and Malcolm a fast fist bump. 

“Oh, that’s right. With the Mrs,” Jesse smirked. 

Orie rolled his eyes with a small smirk. “She’s not the Mrs. Yet.” 

Y/N watched my roommates bicker back and forth with a bright smile which in turn, made me hold onto her a bit tighter, not wanting to let her go. From day one, she always fit in with us, never once feeling left out. Everyone welcomed her with open arms and for that, I’ll always be grateful for that. 

“Angel,” I said into her hairline.

Y/N eyes sparkled as she gazed up at me, a loose strand of silky hair fell into her face, so I brushed it away and let my finger graze over her cheek. 

“Hm?” Her voice was quiet. 

“Let me show you upstairs,” my voice matched hers.

The corner of her lips lifted in a smile. “I’d love that.” 

As the others chatted amongst themselves, I led Y/N back to the living room, hand now on her back, and as we reached the stairs Bryan walked through the front door with Matt. 

“Hi!” Y/N smiled and stepped away from my embrace to give them their own separate hugs. “Malcolm is in the kitchen, he can show you guys where to set everything up.” 

Matt smiled while letting his hand rest in the middle of her back. “You look beautiful, Y/N.” 

I kept a watchful gaze on her, even though there wasn’t a need to.

“Oh, such a sweetheart,” she playfully pinched his cheeks. “You forgot to grab the cake didn’t you?” 

“Don’t worry,” he waved her off. “Davis will pick it up on his way over here; after he gets the pizza. I already texted him.” 

Rolling her eyes, Y/N turned her attention to Bryan. “Did you bring it?” 

He held up his camera bag. “Everything is ready to go.” 

“Awesome,” she clapped her hands with excitement. 

“What are you planning?” I questioned while crossing my arms over my chest. 

Y/N merely shrugged with a coy smirk. “Oh, nothing. Now are you going to finish giving me the tour or what?” 

I held out my arm towards the staircase on my left. “After you, angel.” 

Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor only to be muted by the carpet on the stairs and I followed close behind her, Matt’s voice calling after us. 

“Leave the door open, you two!” 

Without Y/N seeing, I flipped off Matt and then led her down the long hallway, telling her whose room was whose. She walked in front of me, her scent filling my senses the entire time, and my hands ghosted over her hips as I led her to the last door on the left.

“Welcome to my abode! Mi casa su casa and all that shit,” I said as we came to a stop. 

Y/N giggled. “And you said you couldn’t speak Spanish.” 

“I tried, gave up,” I chuckled, now grasping her hips from behind. 

With her standing in front of me, I stuck my arms over her shoulders to reach for the doorknob. But before I opened the door, I rested my chin on her shoulder, and Y/N immediately relaxed in my embrace. 

“This is my room,” I breathed against the crook of her neck. 

I saw her skin prick like a cactus as my breath tickled her sensitive skin. I only imagined her nipples probably did too but had to switch thoughts to avoid my cock twitching in case Y/N could feel it brush against her ass. I gazed down at her, my eyes immediately watching the rise and fall of her chest, and I licked my lips at the sight of them. 

A light click sounded as I opened my door, gently patting Y/N’s thigh so she could walk inside. She took a few tentative steps but I didn’t let her go far without me right behind her. It’s been so long since I felt her this close and now nothing was stopping us.

My heart was so heavy with my devotion, that I nearly kneeled at her feet.  If she only knew, I would do anything for her- to the fucking grave. Either way what bliss. This would be the best chance for me to explain it; to cave and tell her those three words.

I craved Y/N’s touch, her in this room was beginning to consume me and I’d fucking let her.  I watched her eyes close and open slowly, her body movements so gentle she leaned into my tiny touches. The way my hand grazed up her back. The way my fingers danced with hers as we stepped through the threshold of my bedroom; her pinking hooking with mine. I was so close to forgetting what the event tonight was. All I wanted was her all to my fucking self and I wanted to throw her on my bed only to rip off that dress. My tongue craved to taste every single part of her. 

Y/N’s eyes took in all aspects of my room; my desk with my computer. 

“Levi, huh?” She smirked while pointing to my monitor. 

Earlier, I was watching Attack on Titan and paused the episode, never exiting out of the app. 

I shrugged while stuffing my hands deep into my pockets. “You know he’s my favorite, he’s pushing for Naurto to move for the top spot.”

“It’s the hair I bet,” she began looking around my room once again. 

To the mirror, my bed, and the rosary beads. Her eyes darted from the bed back to me, a silent question. 

I nodded, letting her know it was fine to sit, which she did by resting on the edge. I followed, not leaving any space between us. 

“Shit,” Y/N cursed with a groan. “I don’t know why I even wore heels. They kill my ankles.” 

Bending over, I lifted both her feet into my lap to remove her heels then set them on the bed behind me. 

“But they complete my outfit,” she pouted. 

I chuckled while tracing a finger over the small tattoo on her ankle, the one that mirrored mine in design and spot. 

“Just rest your feet for a little while,” I suggested, eyes still on her tattoo. 

Mine subconsciously began to itch with the memories of when we got the tattoos. Her birthday. 

“Oh,” I said suddenly, remembering what I saw online earlier. “I saw that Hollow Souls are going on tour again?” 

Y/N smiled brightly, pure excitement on her face. “Yeah. Who told you that?” 

I waved her off with the hand that wasn’t grazing over her ankle. “Oh, must have been the little birds.” 

“Sneaky birds. But did you see who we’re touring with?”  

I hummed. “Nothing, nowhere. I bet you’re fangirling on the inside right now, huh?” I teased. 

“Can you blame me?” She scoffed. “Joe’s been one of my favorite artists for years now and to experience touring with him, I haven’t stopped smiling since I got the call.”  

When I first found out about this tour, I expected myself to get jealous at the thought of her being on the road with another man while being so far from me but surprisingly, I felt at peace. I trusted Y/N and knew that although she might have had an artist appreciation, I would have liked to think that her heart stayed with me. 

“It will be a sick tour,” I nodded. “Maybe I’ll come out to a show and support you guys. How does it feel knowing this is your first tour as a three piece?” 

Y/N played with the hem of her dress. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited; nervous but very excited. But it's still daunting to know that we have to go up there without a screamer, you know? Everyone seems to be loving our new singles but having to go out there and perform them is scary.” 

“Well, if you’re ever interested in taking up screaming. There’s this great vocal coach that I’ve been looking into. She helps out a lot of artists and I have my first lesson with her at the end of the month,” I stated, fingers still grazing over her skin. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks Mochi,” Y/N reached over and ruffled my hair. 

I dragged my finger up her calf now, her skin pricking under my touch, and I dared a glance to her inner thighs and my cock was now aching in my jeans. Her head turned towards my mirror closet as she watched our reflections. 

“Hm, a mirror right in front of your bed. Kinky,” she winked. 

By now my cock was straining against my zipper and knew I needed to do something about it soon otherwise it would be an issue for the rest of the night. There it went again, my mind completely doing the opposite of what I wanted right now. All I saw were those erotic images over and over.

Y/N kneeled down on the floor between my legs and I shivered under her touch again as her nails raked up and down my thighs. I watched her actions from the mirror behind her, eyes drinking at the sight of her large back tattoo and the perkiness of her round ass. My cock twitched in front of her face as she gazed up at me, taking her bottom lip between her teeth.

“I’ve dreamed of the way you tasted, Noah.”

I shook the thought away but it didn't last long because another image of Y/N flashed in my mind. 

A guttural groan sounded from the back of my throat and I titled my head up towards the ceiling, my long hair cascading down my back. I gripped Y/N’s head with a vise grip and guided her up and down; slowly at first until I reached the resistance of the back of her throat and buried my cock deep in there.

That dream was so vivid when I had it months ago, just as the memories are now. 

Her pussy clenched over my cock as she came undone, her arousal spreading down my thighs. I hooked my fingers in her mouth to hold her up so she could watch us in the mirror now.

“Watch as I fuck your pretty pussy,” I ordered, long hair covering my face.

Y/N did the best she could to nod with my hooks in her mouth and my pace became relentless, slamming into her so hard and fast that the noises echoed throughout my room. The burning felt warm at the base of my spine as my heart pounded wildly in my chest, my own orgasm so fucking close to destroying me.

“Noah?” 

My eyes snapped away from our reflections in the mirror to Y/N’s ethereal face, my fingers still grazing up and down her leg. “Hm?”

“Well, before you zoned out,” she giggled while removing her legs from my lap only to sit on her knees. “I was going to tell you, I love your house and your room! It’s- it’s cute. The LED lights are a nice touch.” 

I smiled. “I love the way you look with them. Soaked in neon glows.” 

Y/N’s eyes sparkled as she looked over my shoulder towards the wall where I had old Bad Omens tour posters framed. 

“No way,” she muttered while climbing off the bed to gaze upon the frames. “You kept the tour poster with Hollow Souls?” 

I rose to my feet, brushing away any hair or lint from my leather jacket, and stood behind her. 

“Yeah, it was our first tour together. It may not have ended in the best way but it’s where we met,” I brushed away her hair from her neck, seeing the tattoo of her large snake back piece peek through the top of her dress. 

Fuck, this had to be my favorite tattoo of hers. It fit her back so well, each groove of her spine. 

I really should book that appointment.

My fingers now grazed over her bracelet and I hummed low in approval. “These look really good on you, angel.” 

“I wear them all the time now. I never take them off. Not even in the shower,” she winked while gazing over at me.

Fuck. 

My cock twitched and I let out a low groan, imagining Y/N in the shower with her necklace and bracelet only on her unholy skin. I leaned my face into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent, and when my lips brushed against the skin behind her ear, Y/N shivered at my touch. 

“Noah,” she breathed. 

“I’ve missed the way you smelled,” my teeth grazed on the shell of her ear. 

Slowly, Y/N turned in my embrace, now gazing up at me through those long lashes, and I sucked in a breath at her sheer beauty. That magnetic pull that we always felt between us began to vibrate within us, causing her to lean up towards my lips. I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers linger on the side of her neck briefly before cupping her cheek. 

“Mochi,” she moaned softly.

I swallowed, my voice just above a whisper. “Angel.”

Y/N’s hands grasped at my arms, her nails digging into the leather of my jacket, and I continued to hold her face in between my hands. Our lips were so fucking close now, I could feel her warm breath fan across until the taste of raspberry lingered on my bottom lip. 

“Hey, Davis is wondering if the pizzas are already paid for?” Jesse came barreling through the closed door. 

My head snapped to the right, eyes narrowing at him as he peeled an orange with a smug smile on his face. 

“Shit, did I interrupt something? I tend to do that. Just with different fruits,” Jesse popped a piece of orange in his mouth. 

I sighed and let my hands fall from Y/N’s so I could point a finger at him. “You’re peeling an orange and the juices are dripping all over my clean floor.”

“It’s fine. See?” He wiped some of the juice with his foot, his sock getting citrus on it, smearing it all over the hardwood. 

“Jesse,” I gritted out through clenched teeth. “I spent all day cleaning and mopping this entire space.” 

He rolled his eyes and finished the rest of the orange in one bite. “So, Davis.” 

Y/N, who was stifling a giggle behind her hand, nodded. “Yes, the pizzas are already paid for. It’s under Malcolm’s name.”

“Cool. Speaking of which, Malcolm needs help with the banner.” 

“Of course he does,” Y/N shook her head with a chuckle and began to walk away. 

My hand reached for hers, locking around her wrist. “Do you want some help?” 

She patted my hand lightly. “I’d love that, Noah.” 

As Y/N put her heels back on, I pushed Jess out of my room, orange peels and all. Then I led Y/N back downstairs with my hands on her hips. 

“I swear, I’m going to have to buy a lock for my door if Jesse keeps popping in,” I grumbled. 

Y/N turned in my embrace slightly to smack my chest. “Oh, be nice.” 

“And if I’m not?” I teased with a raised brow. 

Just as her lips parted, another shrill voice echoed through the space of the living room; one I hadn’t expected to hear. 

“Hi, baby!”

Y/N’s feet skidded to a halt and I nearly tripped over her since she was still in front of me. 

“Surprise!” Bailey yelled while shaking her hands, standing on the other side of the open door. 

Michael stood holding the door open, unsure what to do. 

“That’s not until later,” Y/N snapped with fists clenched. 

Bailey’s eyes landed on Y/N and I could easily see the way her jaw ticked. “What are you doing here?” 

“Excuse me?” She scoffed.

Bailey pushed past Y/N towards me, trying to rest her hands on my chest; an action I quickly brushed away.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” I asked dumbfounded. 

Her brows furrowed. “I thought maybe we could talk.” 

Bailey’s breath had a lingering scent of alcohol and I scrunched up my nose in disgust. She was a fucking mess; this whole thing was a fucking mess that I needed to rid myself and everyone else of. 

I peered over her shoulder towards Michael and Y/N, whose eyes burned straight into my own; she was furious. 

Angel- my angel. She was going to be so angry with me. I had to explain; fast. My feet couldn’t get to her fast enough

“Y/N-,” I began while stepping away from Bailey. 

She shook her head, ignoring my pleas as she brushed past me. “Malcolm needs my help.” 

READER

I’m angry-no, I’m furious. 

Should I be angry? Do I have the right to feel this way? It’s not like Noah and I were together. I learned quickly what Bailey’s place was. He was clearly trying to make me jealous, and it worked. 

I ripped apart a piece of tape to hand up to Malcolm who was standing on a chair to hang up the banner. 

“What’s wrong, sweets?” He asked. 

Grumbling in response to his question, I handed him another piece of tape just as Noah walked into the kitchen. 

“Angel,” he reached for my arm. “Let me explain! I ended it!” 

I ripped my elbow from his grasp to walk away from him, ready to help Jolly finish setting up the alcohol. 

“I don’t have time for this bullshit, Noah. I have to finish setting up for Chase’s party. Not talk about unwanted guests or lies.” 

His face fell. “I’m not lying. Please, can we talk?” 

Malcolm stared down at Noah from the chair with confused eyes as Jolly’s gaze bounced back and forth between us. “What’s going on?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about. Chase will be here soon,” I ignored Jolly. 

“Y/N,” Noah begged with a trembling lip as he stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “The house is already ready. We need to talk.” 

“I’m not doing this with you right now!” I spat with venom, eyes burning into his. 

“Y/N,” he tried to reach for my hands but I smacked them away. 

Jolly quickly picked up that something was wrong so after setting down the bottle of booze, he motioned for me to follow him. 

“Let’s get some air, huh?” 

Turning my back to Noah, I let Jolly lead me out of the kitchen onto their back porch, the cooling air of the afternoon immediately causing goosebumps to graze my skin; skin that Noah moments ago was touching with his lips. 

“Everything alright?”  

I began pacing, running a hand through my hair. “He lied to me, Jolly! He told me he broke things off but she’s here!” 

He shook his head. “No, Y/N, I promise you; Noah broke up with Bailey. We can all vouch for that.” 

“Then why is she here?!” I yelled with a hand extended towards the house behind him. 

“She’s here to salvage whatever she can. But that’s not on him or you,” Jolly said with his ever-calming voice. 

I swear, his accent is what always made any difficult situation easier. 

“It's just-,” I sighed while falling onto the step, Jolly immediately following me. “Every time I think Noah and I are getting somewhere, some bullshit comes up to continue to keep us apart.” 

Jolly nodded. “I can understand that, I get it. But it doesn’t have to be complicated. It really doesn’t, Y/N.” 

“Then why does this keep happening?” I blew out a shaky breath while looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. 

I was so fucking tired of the universe trying to keep Noah and me apart. I was so fucking tired of trying to be happy for more than a mere moment before something came to crash around me. 

Was I not worthy of a happy ending? After all the bullshit I’d gone through?

Jolly brushed away a stray tear, a solemn smile on his face. “Maybe the universe is-shit-I don’t know trying to humble you both first? Heal? Hell if I know, I’d kill to have that spark you two have. I don’t know shit about this, Y/N. But I do know Noah; he isn’t perfect. But he’s trying so hard to be. He also isn’t lying to you, he isn’t.”

Reluctantly, I nodded and rested my head against his shoulder. “Is it alright if I just sit here a minute with you?” 

He patted my knee. “Take all the time you need, söt.” 

“Huh?” I looked up at him. 

With a chuckle, Jolly wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “It means sweet, in Swedish. Sorry, sometimes it slips out without-.” 

“No!” I patted his knee now. “I like it.” 

With a relaxed breath, I eased into Jolly’s comforting embrace, thankful that I had so many friends to confide in when things became tough. 

MATT

So ‘distressed distraction mission fail’ was here. I chuckled to myself, my inner monologue taking over. I felt like it was closing in around me. In my mind, I was growing larger and larger, expanding with aggravation. If I say something too fast, to get myself under control, I’d explode and take the situation in my hands. 

This wasn’t my fuckin fight, I knew that. But- once again, this girl proves to me she doesn’t belong here and surely, doesn’t understand the words no.

Stop. 

Leave.

Noah ended this shit so why was she here? Dogs and fucking rabid raccoons understand basic shit better than Bailey.

I often tried to bite my tongue. I often tried to be kind when I didn’t need to be. It was important to be kind, however, not when you fuck with my family. Bailey didn’t get my message the last time. However, I knew tonight was going to be the last time she’d be around. I felt that shit in my gut.

Good fuckin riddance.

Noah was still in the kitchen and from the way Malcolm was laying into him about something, I knew he’d be held up there for a few minutes. 

I walked up to Bailey as she was sitting on Noah’s couch, a glass of wine in her hand. 

“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in.” I taunted while crossing my arms over my chest, staring down at her. 

Bailey rolled her eyes while taking a very long sip of her wine. “Matt, seriously?” 

“Yeah, seriously. Any particular reason you’re here tonight, trying to, I don’t know, ruin another gathering?” 

“I just wanted to talk to Noah,” she slurs while slowly sanding to her feet, swaying slightly. “I think we can figure things out.” 

My face scrunched in disgust. “Why don’t you sit down, no need to make a bigger fool of yourself.”

“‘M not,” the red liquid swirled in her cup as she shook her head. 

“I’m sorry but have you been blind this whole time?” I wondered.

Bailey scoffed, suddenly falling back onto the couch and spilling a few drops of wine onto the couch. “I’m not blind.” 

Fuck, if Noah wasn’t pissed with this girl before, he definitely would be now for staining his couch. 

I bent low on my knees to make direct eye contact with her. “You keep acting like it, Bailey. You should have just taken the voicemail for what it was. Noah ended it with you; it’s done. What was the point of even coming over here? Because this thing with him isn’t going to happen. You're water and Y/N is milk.” 

“What does that mean?” Bailey hiccuped, resting her head against the back of the couch. 

I peered over my shoulder to point toward Noah, who was watching Y/N directly as she walked back inside with Jolly. She didn’t bother to give Noah an ounce of attention as she was led by Jolly into the dining room. The look of hurt and yearning from Noah made my own stomach drop. His usual stoic face was void, it was evident that his emotions were coming to the surface. Noah loved Y/N with his entire essence but this woman sitting in front of me was going to ruin it. 

The hurt I felt for my friend; no, my brother made the tone in my voice turn to ice as I glared back at Bailey.

“Y/N is the fucking moon that lights his entire dark sky. Come on, stop playing stupid,” I stood to my feet and ran a hand through my hair. 

Leaving her to sulk on her own, I motioned for Malcolm to come out front with me so we could talk privately. 

NOAH

Music blasted throughout my house, the party well underway. Chase arrived about thirty minutes ago, not a hint of surprise on his face but still wore a happy smile. Somehow he managed to find out about the party, which immediately brought a sad smile to Y/N’s face; one I wished I could brush away with my thumb. 

“Ah, it’s alright sweets. I really appreciate the effort,” Chase kissed her forehead before laying a kiss on Malcolm’s lips. “Thank you, guys. I love you.” 

I tried talking to Y/N one more time before the party started but with Malcolm’s ice-cold gaze, I knew it wasn’t the right time. It would have to wait until later. 

Something else needed my attention. 

Bailey stumbled into the living room, red solo cup barely hanging between her fingers, as she was in a fit of giggles. I internally was smoldered with resentment as I watched Bailey. Rage flowed through me like lava because she came here and did this. I tried, I fucking tried.  I realized this was the consequence of my previous actions. 

However, have I not atoned? 

I apologized. I-I tried, I called Bailey and told her I couldn’t be what she wanted. I ended it. 

I knew she knew, she told me that night in the car. I had eyes for someone else. 

I couldn’t allow her to destroy what I was working towards. I tried to swallow my frustration. Angel wouldn’t even look at me- I felt like I could die right here.  I was sitting on the couch with my arms resting along the back of it, eyes watching Y/N’s every move as she talked with Davis. 

Until Bailey fell onto the couch next to me. “I-I thought I haad a driinkie for you.” 

My jaw ticked as I ran a hand over it. “Bailey, I’m sorry, but you weren’t invited.”

“Wha-what does,” she hiccuped. “That mean?”

I moved towards the other end of the couch to give us more space. “Bailey, I left you a voicemail!” 

“I haven’t checked it! I have like 20 messages,” she waved me off before drinking from her cup. 

“Bailey-.” 

A mutual friend of Orie’s came by with a tray of shot glasses, one that Bailey reached for. 

“Oh! Shots!”

Quickly, I pushed away the tray from her and dismissed the friend, stating we were fine and didn’t need anything to drink. 

“Noah!” Bailey whined while cupping my face. “Why’d youuu do that? I’m thirsty!” 

I smacked her hand away as gently as I could. “You’re drunk, Bailey. You’ve had enough.” 

She, of course, ignored me and was fast on her feet to stumble into the kitchen. “I’m gonna go get another!”

A look of great bitterness swept across my face when I approached Bailey again and attempted to get her to leave. “Bailey, let me call you an Uber. You need to go.”

“Noah!” 

She tried to push me away but ended up crashing into the kitchen counter, knocking over the vast variety of alcohol. The loud noise caught the attention of everyone around; Y/N watching Bailey with a look of disdain, never once looking into my eyes. I curbed the way my heart fell to my stomach only because I couldn’t focus on the pain. 

I needed to get Bailey out of here.

“I missed you,” she slurred while running a finger down my chest. “I miss the way you fucked me. Can we try again?” 

I threw her arms off of me as she tried to wrap them around my neck. “No, Bailey, whatever this was is finished. You need to go.”

“We need to talk right now, mother fucker,” Chase spat as he gripped my eblow to drag me to a far corner of the living room, away from prying ears. 

“Man, not now,” I ripped my arm from him. “I’m fucking busy trying to diffuse this situation.” 

“Bailey is drunk, Noah! What the fuck!” Chase ran a hand over his buzzed head. “You’re going to do this? Now? We fucking talked about this! What did I tell you? Get it together or leave my sister alone.” 

He roughly pushed my shoulder and I took a deep breath to keep myself calm. From the moment Bailey showed up tonight, I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and there was nothing I could do to stop it; breathing be damned. 

“STOP!” I suddenly snapped, earning a few stares from people around us. 

Nick R. went to step forward as he leaned against the wall with Nadia but I was quick to wave him off. I refused to ruin their night. His girlfriend was in town for the first time in a long time so the last thing they needed was to deal with my drama. 

“Fuck!” I spoke. “I did! I fucking broke it off, it’s over! Bailey just fucking showed up! And I’d hate for her to drive and die. I do not need that shit on my conscious.” 

“Noah-,” Malcolm stepped up next to Chase.

“I swear to fucking Hades himself, if you tell me to break it off with Bailey, I will lose my shit,” I snapped, the vein in my neck twitching. 

“I’m not,” Malcolm’s voice was even, steady, almost a low whisper because he knew I was seconds away from sheer catastrophe. “Y/N’s fucking hurt, Noah.” 

“I’m-.” I couldn’t even finish my sentence before Chase snapped. 

“I know you’re fucking sorry, alright! But please for the love of fucking Neptune, get rid of her!” 

“Working on it, man,” I reminded him as I turned on my heels to head back into the kitchen but came to a sudden halt. 

Bailey was dragging a guy towards Y/N, her loud shrill voice echoing over the music. 

“Y/N! This was the friend I was talking to you about!” 

Friend? What the fuck? 

The look on Y/N’s face was one of embarrassment and awkwardness. Not many could read someone from across the room but I could. I knew exactly what Y/N was feeling without an utter from her sweet lips; her body always gave her away. 

JESSE

Oh shit, oh shit. 

If only I had known how tonight was going to go. 

Truth be told, I really wanted everyone out of my fucking house. I wanted to lock Y/N and Noah in the garage, not letting them out until they talked this shit out. Although, depending on what happens next, I might have to.

I leaned against the kitchen sink as I watched with careful eyes as Bailey approached Y/N with some guy in tow. 

“Y/N! This is the friend I was talking about! The one I wanted to introduce you to! Jared, this is Y/N.” 

My gaze snapped over to Noah just in time to see him crush the red solo cup in his hand. 

“Oh, hi. Hello,” Y/N shifted on her feet. 

“Fuck,” Jared licked his lips. “You know you’re really beautiful. You’re a model ain’t you?” 

Y/N cleared her throat. “Musician, actually.”

Something was off with this guy so without them noticing, I took a few steps closer toward Y/N, just in case she needed me to step in. 

“Wow a musician, that’s right! Bailey mentioned something about that. I have heard your band before. Souls Hollow.” Jared snapped as if he found out the answer for a million dollars.

“Hollow Souls”. 

The loud pop of Y/N’s water bottle made me jump slightly as she crushed it between her hands. 

“Right! Well, you have the face and the body for modeling if that’s something you want to get into,” Jared ran a hand through his short hair. 

“No, not my interest or my forte.”

Somehow through her drunken state, Bailey was able to feel the sudden tension and patted the guy's chest. 

“Jared, why don’t you get us a couple of drinks? I need to have some girl talk with, Y/N.” 

Girl talk?

“Girl talk?” Y/N chuckled low.

Once it was the two of them, or so Bailey thought, I leaned forward on the kitchen island to listen better. 

“You know,” Bailey threw her hair over her shoulder. “It might be good for you to blow off some aggression. He could be a good fuck.” 

“Thank you for your interest in my well-being.” Y/N scoffed, ready to end this conversation, and went to walk past her. 

“I’m just saying. I’d love to be fucked by Noah again, but he hasn’t been interested,” Bailey shrugged while leaning against the counter for support. 

Oh. Fuck. 

Y/N turned swiftly on her heels with a look of pure fury behind those eyes, the ones that drew Noah in that first meeting; something he told me many times before. I could see the hurt behind that fury though. It was clear that Bailey’s words dragged the knife deeper into her heart. But just as quickly as the hurt surfaced, Y/N was quick to close herself off by crossing her arms over her chest with wide eyes, internally going into herself. 

The shit I just heard. Bailey did that on purpose, or she was so far gone on liquor she didn’t realize what she said.

 No, it was both. Bailey came here to hurt Noah, that was obvious.

Daring a glance over to Y/N, I felt my stomach drop at what I saw. While it wasn’t easy for me to read her face all the time, that look was something I’d seen on Noah’s face one too many times. 

She was passed beyond the point of disassociation. 

Silence. 

Y/N was silent. The calm before the storm. 

“Shit, Noah.” I quietly said under my breath as I nearly sped to him. 

He was sitting on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees as they bounced wildly. Even with me approaching him with a fury, Noah’s eyes never left the two women behind me. 

“Noah!” I waved my hand in front of his face. “Noah!” 

“Not now man,” he waved me off, still not looking up at me. 

Following his gaze, my shoulders slumped when I noticed that Jared had returned to Y/N and was trying to hand her a drink; one that she kept refusing.

Noah’s fists were balled tightly underneath his chin, his chest unmoving as if his breath was caught in his throat.

“Yes, now! Fuck, Noah. I need to tell you something.” 

Before I could sit down, Bailey barreled her way past me onto the couch to plop down next to Noah, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“Oh, don’t they look perfect together? I’d say I’m a great fucking matchmaker. Heaven knows she needs to get laid. She’s been so uptight since I’ve met her.” 

Mother fucker. 

All this time and Bailey still couldn’t read the fucking room. 

NOAH

I shifted my body away from Bailey, her head falling away from my shoulder, as I glared at her. 

“What did you just say?” I was eerily calm even though my heart was in my ears. 

Bailey did her best to fix her hair, trying to make herself presentable. “Y/N looks so good with Jared! I’m so glad I set them up. It seemed like she’d been so lonely since the break up with Trey.” 

Jesse sat next to me. “Noah-.” 

Ignoring him, I kept my hard gaze on the mess of Bailey. “Why do you insist on bringing that asshole up in every conversation?” 

“Why does her love life bother you so much, No-O-ah.” She hiccuped then let out a low belch, the smell rancid.

It disgusted me.

I was beginning to see slight parallels with this. Trey, Bailey, Trey Bailey. Drowning their demons. Once again confirming I will not be like this. I won’t become them. My demons won’t swim.

“Why can’t you mind your own fucking business? You don’t know shit about her or any of us. You think you do because of things you read on a blog?” 

Fuck, Bailey was getting inside my skin and I wanted to scratch it away until it bled. I chewed roughly on the inside of my cheek, doing whatever I could to keep my anger under control. I couldn’t make a scene in front of everyone because of Bailey. 

She took a large gulp of her wine and lazily shrugged. “Trey was a big part of Y/N’s life; I can understand that.”

Jesse reached past me to grab the glass of wine from her since she almost dropped it because of her weak grip. The sound of glass clanking on the table in front of me was a white noise in my ears. 

“Oh, Jo-O-lly,” Bailey whined with a hiccup. “You’re no fun.” 

“Jesse,” he corrected.

She ignored him with a wave of a hand towards Y/N and this friend. “Look at them. Y/N’s so into him.”

My gaze snapped over to Y/N expecting to see her all over this guy but breathed a little easier to see that there was a decent amount of space between them and her arms were crossed over her chest. 

She was closing herself off from the conversation but ever the sweetheart, Y/N couldn’t find the way to end it.

“Hopefully, they’ll fuck. I mentioned to Y/N that we did as girl talk, so maybe she finally will too!” 

My eyes doubled in size as my head whipped back to her, heart now leaping out of my fucking throat. All the noise around me fell away, the only thing I could hear was two words. 

You’re fucked.  

“You fucking told her we had sex?” I spat through clenched teeth. 

“It was girl talk, Noah. You’re freaking out about nothing,” Bailey rolled her eyes. 

Terror washed over me because there was absolutely no fucking way she told Y/N. 

“She did. I was right there,” Jesse informed, almost as if he could read my mind. 

The fine hairs at the back of my neck rose as the anger now ran through me in waves. 

Bailey told her. She fucking told her. 

Fuck!

My hands raked through my hair, ripping it from the low bun, and I vibrated with rage. 

I should have told Y/N right after it happened. I shouldn’t have let it drag on this long. It would have hurt coming from me, yes, but now that Bailey was the one to tell her, I knew it was eating away inside of Y/N. 

Idiot. 

Idiot. 

Asshole. 

Fucking bitch. 

My heart continued to pound rapidly in my ears. I wanted to scream; the sudden shock made my muscles tense. Innate fear was instinctive and hard-wired into my brain.

This kept fucking happening. Every time I thought Y/N and I were getting somewhere, something fucking came crashing into it. How did we go from almost kissing upstairs in my bedroom to now? She ignored me as another man was practically drooling at the sight of her. 

Mine. She’s mine. She’s always been mine. 

This feeling that burned low in my gut involved a fight-or-flight response triggered by a perceived threat; Bailey. 

I hated myself more than I had in a long time. 

A sudden thought crossed my mind which made me blow out a shaky breath. Was I the threat?

No. I broke it off. 

Fuck this.

“Oh,” Bailey’s voice was sad. “I hope Jared won't mind Y/N’s scar, though. I never had the chance to warn him.”

“Excuse me?” I fumed, nostrils flaring. 

How she continued to misread the room appalled me. 

“Well, I noticed her scar during the pool day. It’s a nasty one. I can't believe she deals with that endo bullshit,” Bailey sympathized. 

“Endometriosis,” I corrected but then shook my head with the sudden realization. “How do you know about that?” 

“Why does it matter, Noah?” She shifted uncomfortably. 

The only people who knew about Y/N’s scar beside herself were Malcolm, Chase, and me. It was a very sore subject for her, something she didn’t want brought up. It was from a procedure she had years ago, one to remove a thin layer of tissue that lined her uterus to help with her heavy bleeding. 

I never noticed the scar however during our night together. My mind was elsewhere. I never paid attention to that, it could have been a stretch mark for all I knew. I was a little too occupied tasting her to care. So enamored in her, so thankful just to have every inch of her at all that night that I didn’t see it as an imperfection on her. 

And I never would. 

“It fucking does matter, Bailey!” I roared. 

Jesse’s hand rested on my shoulder, his soft touch easing the rage slightly. However, out of the corner of my eye, something else caught the attention of my rage. 

Bile rose in my throat as I watched Jared’s slimy fingers graze down Y/N’s bare arm towards the silver chain on her wrist; the bracelet I bought her. He twirled it between his fingers before flicking it away with a look of distaste. Y/N yanked her arm away from him, holding her wrist close to her chest. 

My nostrils flared as my shoulders went rigid, my body going taught. Something cold and wet dripped onto my lips and the copper taste was bitter on my tongue. I could feel my increasing heart rate, the blood rushing in and out through my ears. I swallowed thickly with my dry mouth, producing no saliva. 

My clenched fists were aching, I was sure to leave half-crescent marks on my palms. My jaw was tight as if it was wired shut and my gums must have been bleeding. I could taste it in my mouth as one simple thought continued to repeat in my mind. 

Destroy. He’s touching what’s yours. 

I could do it, it’d be so easy. 

This piece of shit dared to look at something I gave Y/N with distaste and it made me bare my teeth. 

“Fuck, Noah. Are you alright?” Jesse’s concern brought me back from seeing red. “Your nose is bleeding.”

I wiped my palm over my nose. “Is it?” 

Crimson smeared all over my hand. 

Fuck. 

With every step back Y/N took, this guy followed in an attempt to close the distance between them. A muscle in her jaw ticked as her brows furrowed, eyes darting around the room to look for someone. 

Chase and Malcolm were in the front yard with others playing one of the yard games Steven brought. Everyone else was scattered throughout the house which meant I was closest to her. 

Perhaps this fear of loss is only proof of my love for Y/N, one that she will always depend on. The curse is the blessing. Blessed with a curse. Love is tough, but I’m tough enough. I needed to get to Y/N and get to her now.

Bolting to my feet, I moved like lighting and did not listen to Jesse’s protests as I reached Y/N in a few wide strides. 

Even though she was angry at me, Y/N’s eyes lit up with relief as she saw me only for a moment. 

“Everything alright?” I asked while standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her. 

Jared motioned towards Y/N. “I’m trying to get your beautiful friend from Sollows to go out with me.”

I ground my teeth while taking a step towards him.  “It’s Hollow Souls. Hollow. Souls. You don’t even fucking know her band's name. Get the hell out of here.”

“Noah!” Y/N jeered from behind me. 

“All I’m asking for is one date, dude. She’s hard to break down to agree,” Jared shook his head. 

I stood toe to toe with this asshole, my words stone cold and stern so he understood completely. “She isn't available!”

“Really?” He scoffed while stuffing his hands in his pockets. “That’s not what your girlfriend told me. Why do you care so much about who Y/N talks to?” 

“Bailey isn’t my girlfriend; not anymore. I broke up with her days ago, it’s not my fucking problem that she can't understand it,” I reiterated for what seemed like the tenth time today. 

“Why is she here then?” Y/N muttered behind me. 

Ignoring her, I continued to stand tall in between her and Jared. 

“So again, Y/N isn’t available,” I repeated. 

“Really?” Jared chuckled. 

“Yeah, dude. Really.” 

One step closer to him. 

He outstretched his arms. “I don’t see anyone around to claim her.”

I despised the way he was talking about Y/N; someone that was mine. 

“She isn’t a fucking object,” I hissed. 

I studied him with unforgiving judgment, an icy stare bored into him, making it hard not to back away.  I gripped the glass I had in my hand. My first thought was to throw it to the floor and smash it, but I knew if I did that, I wouldn’t stop until every glass in the cupboard was in shards and Jared’s face was pushed into it. 

Violence never solved anything. I had to remind myself that this is not what I am. Not what Y/N would want. I had to keep my composure at best. I had to.

I also would never want to incite fear in Y/N. Never. I knew she wasn’t into him, but I couldn’t help but notice sleazy Jared letting his eyes roam her entire body, as much as she tried to hide herself away. His eyes went to her exposed legs, the colorful and detailed drawings on her right one. 

 I didn’t like that. 

Y/N’s smooth skin. Her perky, round, and full chest was probably what caught Jared’s attention in the first place. At this moment, he became just another enemy. But nobody, not even him, was going to try and take Y/N away from me. Not when she was mine. I wanted her all for myself.

I inhaled and exhaled so harshly; like a fucking  bull ready to charge

“I’m not saying she is an object. All I’m saying is-.”

“Yeah, I know what you’re fucking saying,” I barked “And I’m telling you Y/N isn’t available. She’s with me.” 

Jared snickered. “If that’s the case then why did she spend the last ten minutes talking to me.” 

“I’m right fucking here!” Y/N screamed while pushing past me to now step between us. “Stop acting like I’m not!” 

Jared went to reach for her which prompted me to wrap an arm around her shoulder, ready to lead her away. 

“We need to talk; let’s go upstairs,” I begged with wide eyes. 

She hastily removed my arm from her. “No, fuck you! I have nothing to say to you. This conversation is over.” 

“The hell it is,” I snapped while running my hands through my hair. “This isn’t over until we talk into the light. Please, angel. Let's go upstairs.” 

Y/N pushed my chest. “Oh, you want to talk now? You’re bored with Bailey so yet again, I’m your second option?”

Jared shifted on his feet. “Am I missing something here?”

I glared at him over my shoulder. “Yeah, none of this concerns you. Fuck off.”

“Noah!” Y/N chastised. “STOP IT!” 

My head snapped back to her. “No, don’t Noah me. We need to talk! Without this asshole.” 

“Fuck you, man!” 

Jared went to reach for me but I was a hair faster than him, pushing him back into the kitchen island. By now, our little argument caught the attention of almost everyone in the house, and the music ceased, an eerie silence falling around us. 

“Don’t you ever put your fucking hands on me or Y/N.” I seethed, my chest rising and falling with each deep breath.  

So many different gazes burned into me but I didn’t give a shit about the scene. The only thing I cared about was Y/N. 

“Angel, please can we-,” I turned back around just in time to see her bolt up the stairs, away from everyone. 

“Shit,” I muttered while bounding up the stairs two at a time to catch her. 

As I reached the landing upstairs, I caught her frame slipping into the bathroom but before I could reach her, the door slammed in my face. 

“Y/N,” my voice was soft as my knuckles tapped against the door. 

“Leave me alone!” She choked on a sob, it echoing through the wood

My forehead rested against the wall next to the bathroom, the rage and anger that consumed me minutes prior suddenly faded into the void, my heart only feeling one emotion; despair. I needed to feel Y/N in my embrace. I needed to console her and assure her that everything would be okay. 

We will be okay. 

“Noah, what the fuck was that man?” Davis demanded. 

Turning my body around, I leaned against the wall with pure exhaustion and ran my hands over my face; images of Jared’s hands all over Y/N were clear in the darkness. 

“He was touching her,” I chewed out. “His hands were-fuck!”

I pushed myself off the wall and began pacing up and down the hall, right in front of my bedroom. 

Davis watched with his hands on his hips. “You need to pull it together. What the fuck was that downstairs?! Why hasn’t Bailey left yet? I thought you ordered her an Uber?”

“I’ve been trying!” I snapped while coming to a halt. 

But when I saw the look on his face, I sighed while pinching my nose. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to snap at you but I’m just so tired of being accused tonight of shit that’s out of my control. 

“It’s alright, man,” Davis reassured me. 

“Fuck, where’s Chase? Or Malcolm? Maybe they can talk Y/N out of the bathroom.” I suggested. 

“Chase is pissed. Malcolm had to hold him back to keep him from coming up here to kick your ass.” 

With my hands on the ledge, I peered over it to see that Davis was telling the truth. Malcolm had Chase pinned against the front door, arms on each side of him in a way to lock him in a makeshift cage. It helped that Malcolm was a bit bigger than Chase so he couldn’t push past him, which I was thankful for because his usual bright eyes were dark with hatred. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about up here but I knew with the way Chase pointed up at me and the vein in his forehead throbbing that it wasn’t good. Malcolm rested a hand on Chase’s cheek, the latter immediately relaxing in the former’s touch.

“I never meant for this to happen,” I blew out a shaky breath, doing my best to keep my tears at bay. 

It wasn’t fucking fair. I did everything right so why was it coming back to bite me in the ass?

“I know,” Davis stepped up beside me to lay a hand on my shoulder. “I fucking know this is killing you right now. But you have to move past this. Y/N doesn’t deserve this side of you. And frankly, neither do you.” 

“I know I said I can wait for years if I have to, Davis. But fuck, I want us right now! I can’t see anything else but Y/N.  I want her with me! I want all of her forever. It’s her and me I-.” 

A sob crawled its way out of my throat.  "I want all of her. Forever.” 

“It’s okay, Noah,” he rubbed my back in smoothing circles. “It may not seem like it right now but I promise you, it will be okay.” 

The soft click of the bathroom sounded loud in the hallway upstairs but when I turned towards it with a hopeful smile, it faltered when Y/N whipped past us, her hair flowing behind her in waves. 

“Angel.” 

I reached for her, only for Y/N to rip farther away from me, and retreat downstairs. 

READER

Tears fell from my eyes as I hid behind my hair, heels reaching the bottom of the stairs. While my heart beat rapidly in my chest, my mind screamed one thing in my mind over and over again. 

You need to leave. Get out. Get out. 

I looked around with frantic eyes for Chase and Malcolm, knowing that I wasn’t in the best state of mind to drive. By now, the vast group of people that came for the party had dispersed only leaving our small group of friends. Instead, my gaze locked with Nick R’s and I nearly sobbed at the sight of him. I needed some sort of comfort from someone and it didn’t matter who it was; as long as it wasn’t Noah. 

Before I could make my way over towards Nick R., a vice grip wrapped around my elbow to spin me around. 

“You couldn’t stay away, could you?!” Bailey’s nails dug into my skin. 

I hissed. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” 

“Noah could have moved on with me! I could have made him so happy!” Her words slurred together, the heavy stench of alcohol on her breath. “But no, every time I was with him, there you were! You couldn’t fucking leave him alone!” 

The tears tasted bitter on my tongue. “Excuse me?”

Bailey chuckled dryly, barely able to keep herself up on two feet.  “You’re his fucking ghost. You’re here all the time. It’s a good thing I showed up tonight. I followed my gut. But I don’t know what hurts worse; you and Noah sneaking around behind my back or-.” 

“We-.” 

She stuck up a finger to hush me. “Behind my back or you both lying about your feelings for each other to my face. You’ve been in love this whole fucking time and I was only a pawn in this story.”

I slowly shook my head, suddenly feeling guilty. It was true, even though we didn’t want to admit it, but she was a pawn. An innocent person caught in the crossfire of a tangled mess of soulmates. 

“Bailey.”

“No!” She screamed with her own tears. “What also hurts is that I can’t blame you! I can’t! But I truly don’t know how you’re going to be able to give him anything he needs.” 

Pure venom filled her eyes; a snake ready to snap at its prey. “I-I don’t-I know everything and I can’t help but feel sorry for you. I know how hard it will be for you to have a child. How do you think Noah feels about that? You’re taking away his chance of having a family, any chance of normalcy!” 

I nearly stumbled back, being smacked in the face with her words, and I blinked rapidly at her. “Wh-How do you know?” 

Bailey ignored me by throwing up her hands. “So take him! Noah is all yours. You two fucking deserve each other.”

My eyes now sliced into her. “How the fuck do you know about that, Bailey?”

“He’ll never love me like he loves you, and it’s selfish of you to keep throwing him away.” She yet again avoided my question. “He wouldn’t touch me, never. Especially when you were around. Only that one time but all he thought about was you.”

“I’m not! You don’t know a fucking thing! Noah doesn’t love me! He doesn’t.” I bellowed as loud footsteps came running down the steps. 

Noah’s frantic face pleaded for me to stay, to listen, but I refused; I was done with this entire day and wanted to leave. 

“I’m leaving,” I said, turning on my heels. 

“Angel, please wait!” Noah reached for me, yet again.

“Hang on,” Bailey stepped in front of him, blocking his path to me. “Y/N is Angel?” 

I didn’t bother hearing the excuse Noah came up with. My only path was the front door where Nick R. stood, waiting for me with it wide open.

Somewhere an hour outside of Cheston, South Carolina in a nursing home, a resident named Duke was so enamored with the elderly woman that sat beside him. He read to her every day about a story of love, loss, and the power to fight for love.

“Did they love each other?” The woman asks, brushing away the graying strands of her hair.

Duke closed the book and smiled. “They didn’t agree on much. In fact, they didn’t agree on anything. They fought all the time and challenged each other every day. But despite their differences, they had one important thing in common. They were crazy about each other.”

The older lady rested deeper into her chair, a faint smile on her lips.“I like these kinds of stories,” 

“Yeah? Me too.” Duke smiled at her and set the book on the table in front of them. “Somewhere out there, I’m sure this exists. It did for me.”

THIRD PERSON POV

“Leave me alone!” Y/N screamed over her shoulder to Noah who was following on her heels. 

He let her walk away so many previous times and he was done letting the cycle continue. 

“You’re not leaving!” Noah ordered, his voice echoing into the night air. 

Chase and Malcolm, who were sitting on the front porch, watched the entire scene unfold in front of them. Chase wanted to intervene, still reeling from what happened before the party ended but Malcolm held him in place with a hand on his knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“They need to figure this out on their own, Chase. We can’t keep helping them.” 

Davis and Matt also wanted to intervene as they watched through the large window in the living room. They wanted to help, but even they shook their heads. 

“This is it. The dam broke and it’s about fucking time,” Matt said while leaning against the wall next to the window. 

“Let them hash it out. This is going to be cathartic for both of them.” Davis said while peaking through the curtains. 

Steven almost popped out of nowhere with a sigh. “Here we go.” 

Suddenly, the dark sky above cracked with a bright light, rain immediately falling from the clouds and soaking Noah and Y/N as they continued their stare off in his driveway. 

“Have you been paying attention to anything happening?!” Y/N accused, wet strands of hair clinging to her face. 

“No, I guess not!” Noah retorted back. “I must have misread every fucking signal!” 

“Guess you did!” Y/N scoffed while turning back on her heels, the loud clicking being muted by the sounds of the onslaught of rain and thunder. 

When she opened the door to her car, Noah was quick to slam it shut. “You’re bored! You know it and we wouldn’t keep doing this if something wasn’t missing! But you don’t fucking get it!” 

“Get what?” Y/N questioned while trying to open the door again. 

Noah slammed it shut again, not allowing her to leave.  “WHY?! Why am I not worthy?” 

As he screamed those words a few more times, his despair was heard by everyone inside the house who watched with broken eyes, the yellow hue of the street lamp casting him in his own angelic aura. 

Y/N’s lips mimicked a fish out of the water, despite being drowned under the rain

“This whole fucking thing of hot and cold with you!  You’re being a pain in the ass!” Noah rested his arm on the top of her car, bright eyes burning into hers. 

Her eyes bulged out of her head and she gave a hard shove to his chest. “Excuse me? You arrogant son of a bitch, you tell me all this shit! I sit there and tolerate this distraction of yours, who sits there and tells me little theories and fucking intrusive bull shit. She pries into parts of my life; parts she shouldn’t know!” 

Noah’s face softened, immediately knowing what Y/N was referring to. “I didn’t tell her, Y/N. I swear to Hades, I didn’t tell Bailey about your endometriosis.”

“Then how does she know? It’s not public knowledge!”

He tried to reach for her but Y/N pushed him away with yet another hard shove. “Don’t fucking touch me!” 

Chase went to bolt outside into the onslaught of the storm to protect his sister but Malcolm was quick to bring him back inside. Unfortunately, this wasn’t their fight anymore. It was up to Noah and Y/N. 

“Angel, please,” Noah begged with a trembling lip. “Come back inside so we can talk about this.” 

Y/N ripped her hands through her hair. “There’s nothing to talk about, Noah! Don’t you get it?! We keep running in circles with no positive outcome. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t.” 

They both were drenched, limbs shivering from the cold wind and rain, but neither of them made the first move to falter; to end this fight. 

“Stop acting like I don’t care about you; about us!” Noah snapped. 

“I never said you didn’t! If anything I felt the same way you fucking idiot! I-I’m-.” 

The words died from her lips, unable to finish her sentence due to the fear of Noah not feeling the same. 

“You what?” He urged while taking a step towards her. 

Y/N wildly shook her head as her make up ran down her face, staining her cheeks and neck in mascara. 

“I-I can’t.” Y/N pressed her palm into her forehead. 

“Yes, you can,” Noah licked his lips in anticipation. “Fuck, Y/N! YOU WHAT?!”

“I’m in love with you! Okay?! I fucking love you.” Y/N turned on her heels to walk down the driveway but stopped, quickly turning to Noah. 

Everyone inside the house gasped, all looking at each other. 

“Did she?” Folio wondered. 

Malcolm had a hint of a smile on his lips. “Yeah, she did.” 

“You always just pretend that everything is fine when it’s not!” She pointed a firm finger at him.  “Then you stand there and have the right to say I’m the pain in the ass? Fuck you, Noah! I’m so tired of you pretending that you don’t have feelings for me.” 

Noah’s eyes widened with furrowed brows and his jaw slacked. “You-You-’re-wait!”

He shook his head in disbelief but then confusion etched over the features of his face. “I’m pretending? I’ve been trying to tell you for months! But I don’t know how to do any of this, okay? These feelings are new for me and I don’t know how to deal with them!”

“This isn’t going to work,” Y/N sobbed while holding her arms close to her chest, whether it was due to the cold or to protect herself from the feelings, no one but her was sure. 

Noah gapped at her. “We haven’t even started anything! And I’m fucking sorry about everything and Bailey! I’m so fucking sorry! I should have never even walked into the record shop that day. My head was a mess after seeing your instagram post and I lost it.” 

“Wait,” Y/N shook her head. “What Instagram post?” 

Noah ran a hand on the back of his neck. “The one you posted in Japan. I-I thought you found someone there that could get you actual ramen.” 

Y/N couldn’t help but internally snicker at that but the anger and hurt she felt outweighed that glimmer of humor. 

“So you dated someone because you misunderstood a fucking Instagram post?!” She pushed Noah once again. 

However this time, he grasped her hands so she couldn’t pull away. He held them against the beating pulse underneath his soaked shirt. 

They were exactly alike. In every aspect. Mannerisms, interests, and their souls were the same. Which is why they always seemed to find their way back to one another, no matter the outcome. 

“Just fucking stay with me, Y/N! Stay till the morning and we can figure this shit out. Please,” Noah begged with trembling lips. 

“Stay with you?” Y/N pushed away then pointed between them. “Look at us, Noah! All we’ve been doing is bickering and fighting!” 

“Well that’s what we do. We fight. You tell me when I am being an arrogant son of a bitch and I tell you when you’re being a pain in the ass. Which you are, 99 percent of the time. I’m not afraid to hurt your feelings. You have like a 2 second rebound rate, then you’re back doing the next pain-in-the-ass thing!”

By now, the rain was a terrental down pur, branches of the trees swaying widely in the wind as the sky cracked loudly with lightning and thunder; it shook both Y/N and Noah to their bones. 

“So what?” Y/N scoffed. “Why does it matter to you?”

“Because I fucking love you, angel!” Noah blurted out. 

He planned on telling her how he really felt from the moment the feelings clawed their way to the surface but something always managed to get in the way of it. But here, now, outside his house with all of their friends watching, he admitted it to her. 

And he’d spend the rest of his days shouting from the rooftops his love for his angel. 

“This shit is hard for me. I’m being vulnerable, but fuck, man” Noah pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling and exhaling his breaths; like Dr. Poulos had told him to do so. 

Y/N gazed up at him with a fixed gaze unable to move. “What?” 

The onlookers had their ears peeled to their spots, doors and open cracks of the windows.

“Oh thank the gods.” Michael breathed out

“Fuck!” A low clap from Jesse.

Noah stood no less than a few inches apart from Y/N and his arms fell to his sides. 

“I love you! I’ve loved you since I heard your fucking voice for the first time through my Ipod that night on Nick’s couch. The first day of the tour when I got off that bus.” 

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered. “You love me too?” 

“Yes, angel. I want all of you, you and me! Will you do something for me, please? Just picture your life for me? Five, ten years from now. What does it look like? If it’s not with me then, go. Go!” 

Noah smacked the hood of Y/N’s car. “I lost you once. Shit, twice. I think I can do it again. If I thought that’s what you really wanted. But don’t you take the easy way out.”

Chase, yet again bolted up from his spot from in front of the window, ready to run outside to protect his sister but now it was Nick R. who stopped him. 

“Move,” Chase spat through gritted teeth. 

Nick R. shook his head with a stern face. “We can’t intervene anymore. This has to be between them and them alone.” 

“He’s getting violent! Noah just punched her car!” Chase yelled, not bothering the sleeping drunk on the couch behind him. 

Nick R. stood his ground. “We all know that Noah would never put his hands on Y/N.” 

Reluctantly, Chase nodded with a long sigh. “I know, I know. He might be your brother but she’s my sister. I’m just tired of seeing the same scene unfold between them.” 

Malcolm gently reached for Chase’s hand and brought him back to the far corner they were seated in. 

A loud crack of thunder made Y/N jump closer towards Noah, who instinctively reached for her but held back, not wanting to push her farther than she could handle. 

“What easy way, Noah? This isn’t easy!” Y/N sighed. “None of this is easy!” 

“No it is, actually.” Noah nodded. “Don’t think about anyone or anything else. What do you want from me? What do you want, angel?”

She rapidly shook her head, choking on a sob. “It’s not that simple.”

“What. Do. You. Want?” Noah enunciated every word with a pound fist to his chest. 

When Y/N remained silent, Noah grasped her face to bring her into his warm embrace, even with the rain. “God damn it! What do you want?”

Her eyes darted between Noah’s and her bottom lip caught between her teeth. He watched as she swallowed thickly, anxiously awaiting her answer. 

“I think-,” Y/N stumbled over her words. “I need to clear my head right now.”

Noah’s shoulders drop, disappointment clear on his face. “Are we doing that? Are we back there? What about everything we feel? What about everything that happened hours ago and beyond that. It happened, you know. They’re going to keep fucking happening. We belong together, Y/N.”

The grip on her cheeks tightened, his thumb brushing away the tears or rain, he couldn’t tell, from her cheeks only smearing her make up even more. 

“No! I don’t want to go back there. Noah,” she shook her head the best she could in his tight grasp. “I-I need to grasp all of this! But there’s one thing I know for sure; it’s always been you, Noah.” 

The crushing weight around his heart lifted at hearing her words. Noah’s thumb brushed along her cheek bone. 

“I can stay away if you want me to, but I don’t want to. I know you don’t want me to,” he whispered. 

Y/N whimpered while holding onto his wrists with a tight grip. “I love you, Noah. It was never really over for me.”

“It wasn't over and it still isn’t over,” Noah declared while crashing his lips to hers, locking her into place against her car with his hips. 

Moving fast, sensual, soft and moist and hot and breathy, not trying to win a battle but seeking union and closeness and the sharing of one breath. One sensation. One timeless and passionate moment. Their hearts were electric as the familiar scars faded with their lips upon each other.

The heat rose in Y/N cheeks as her tongue touched Noah’s, quick and electric and delicious, then firmer, more determined. More curious about the heat that lay within, seeking to chase down that elusive liquid lightning that reached through both of them. 

His hands were so soft despite the callous’ on his fingertips. Holding her face so delicately but with pressure.

The others in the house felt as if they should look away, however, given the rollercoaster they were on, they earned a peek at what their inner hearts also yearn for.

Noah’s hips pressed deeper into Y/N and he swallowed her moan, drinking in every part of her that he craved all this time. Her hands tangled through the strands of his hair, secretly reveling at the length. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Noah could pull off any haircut but deep down, she was thankful that the moment she met him, his hair cascaded to his back in glorious dark waves. 

She pulled on the lapels of his leather jacket to bring him closer, her teeth grazing over his bottom lip. 

“Angel,” he moaned into her mouth. 

“Mochi,” she breathed when his cock pressed against her heated core. 

The storm suddenly ceased as soon as their lips met, thunder and lightning no longer. 

There was a commotion coming from inside the house, one that went unnoticed by the two forms molding together; their souls connecting in a way that they so desperately needed.  

“Noah!”

He pulled away from Y/N, hands still on her face and lips parted, drops of the rain falling into his mouth. One more quick kiss upon those bruised lips, he looked up towards Jesse. 

“You have to deal with Bailey.” He said with a stern face. “Now.”

Cursing under his breath, Noah looked back to Y/N. “Don’t leave, alright? Give me a few minutes to deal with her. But I promise, we’re going to finish this.” 

Y/N sniffled while wiping away the rain and make up from her face, giving him a slow nod. 

With one final peck, savoring the sweet taste on her lips, Noah bounded up  the yard with Jesse in tow. However, Nick R. met him half way. 

“I know,” Noah held up his hand. “I’m dealing with it now.” 

“Good,” Nick R. nodded. “Because Bailey locked herself in the bathroom and won’t leave until you talk to her.

However, unbeknownst to Jesse and Noah who slipped back inside, Bailey managed to exit through the back door unseen. She had her gaze on one person, making a beeline towards her. 

“Like I said, you can’t stay away from him!” Bailey screamed. 

Y/N was touching her lips softly, as she remembered the kiss, but looked towards Bailey as she stormed into her. Nick R. was ready to head back inside with the rest of them but as soon as he saw Bailey push Y/N into her car, he quickly changed his path. He couldn’t leave the two of them alone, not when Bailey was drunk and actions were unknown. 

NICK R

I hung back off to the side but not too far as I watched Bailey and Y/N finally have words with each other. 

“You ruined everything!” Y/N brushed Bailey off of her, standing her ground. “This party was for Chase but you couldn’t handle your fucking booze as usual and had to run your mouth!”

“All you had to do was stay away! Why couldn’t you let Noah be happy?” Bailey accused. 

Oh, please. The only time the last time I’d seen Noah happy was when he was with Y/N. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Y/N scoffed with a dry chuckle. “You were the one that was brought into something you couldn’t understand.” 

Something flashed in Bailey’s eyes which made me stand taller in attention. I’ve read the signs. I’ve heard them before. That’s what Bailey didn’t understand. This wasn’t a fling, or a feeling of empty love lost. This was something created by a force no one was sure existed. This wasn’t anyone’s intention. They can’t be apart for too long, the anguish will swallow them whole.

When passion generates within the relationship flows into other areas of life. Bailey disrespected my friend. My best friend’s other half. That just wouldn’t do. 

She could yell, scream, and curse the ground Y/N walked on. It wouldn’t change anything. It will never change the course this is. 

It’s always Noah and Y/N.

“You want to talk about things you don’t understand? You’re delusional if you think your band can hack it without Trey. He was probably in his right mind to leave and do his own thing.” 

Fuck. 

I gazed over towards Y/N and my stomach fell at the broken expression on her face. 

Bailey continued her onslaught, not caring how deep her words were cutting. Noah told me months ago how fucked up Trey was and how long it took Y/N to over come how far he dug himself into her mind. 

“You guys want to be innovative! And be the next big thing but guess what, you’re just going to fall on your face. I got news for you, next time I see your record? Clearance it goes.” 

Y/N took a step forward which in turn made me reach and arm out to keep the space. Her eyes flashed to mine but with a curt nod from me, I allowed her to continue what she was going to say. 

“You don’t know shit about my life or my music,” she hissed with venom. “What, because you read some blogs online and work in a music shop you think you know what’s best?”

Bailey tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I don’t need to know the little details. I know just enough to know you’re never going to make it and you’re gonna ruin Noah’s life.”

“News flash Bailey,  I’ve already fucking made it. With or without Trey, Hollow Souls is where it’s at because of me.” 

Y/N stabbed a finger into her own chest and I couldn’t help the proud smile that played on my lips. 

“And it will continue to thrive because of me. And Malcolm. And chase. Not some girl's opinion who thinks she knows everything because she’s been in our inner circle for all of two months.” 

Bailey opened her mouth to retort but Y/N pushed past my arm so she could get right into her face. 

“I would rather chew concrete than ruin Noah’s life. I love him, I’ve loved him for a long fucking time and fuck you for thinking I’m going to allow you or anyone to intervene. Never again.” 

With a hand on Y/N’s lower back, I motioned towards the house. “Bailey, I think you’re done here. 

All the fight that Bailey had left in her seemed to falter and reluctantly, she turned to retreat back into the house. To do what, it didn’t matter to me. I needed to make sure Y/N was alright. 

“Hey,” I finally forced her to look at me. “Are you alright?” 

“Uh,” she let out a shaky breath while wrapping her arms around herself, shivering. “No. I’m not. It’s been a shit night.” 

“Do you want me to see if Nadine has some clothes for you? Get you out of those wet clothes?” I offered. 

Y/N shook her head. “No, it’s alright. I think I’m going to leave.” 

My stomach dropped for Noah, knowing that he wished for her to stay. But I wouldn’t force Y/N to stay. But what I could do was give her some sense of reassurance. 

“You want to know something cheesy? Something- a little too cliche?” I asked.

“What’s that?” Y/N sniffled with a slight chuckle 

I leaned against the car next to her, both of us staring up at the sudden clear sky; stars sparkling upon us. 

“The reason why it hurts so much is because your souls are connected.”

“Nicholas-.” Y/N started. 

I turned towards her now.  “No. No, I’ve been studying up on things like this, purely out of fun; Well, interest? Maybe genuine boredom but that detail doesn't matter. I’ve watched you both for a while now and it’s clear the two of you were always meant to find one another. I thought this kind of shit only existed in books. Turns out, I’ve watched it happen to my best friend. Noah found you. You’re his other half.” 

She sobbed quietly. “And he’s mine.”

“Yeah,” I nodded with a smile. “He fucking smiles with you, you know. He laughs with you. You mean everything to him. I’ve known this kid since he was 12-.” 

“Did Noah put you up to this?” Y/N questioned.

I shook my head. “No he didn’t tell me to talk to you but as his brother I needed to.”

“I just need-I need a space from this right now, just to get my head together.” Y/N said after a few beats of silence. 

I had some reservations about that, ones that I  made clear as I opened her car door for her, letting her drop in with a huff of a breath. 

“It didn’t work out so well the last time you two had space. So please don’t wait too long, Y/N. One friend to another,  I’m begging you, please, don’t break him. You both love each other. Noah can’t stay away from you and you can’t either.” 

“I know, Nick, I know. I love him, I- just-,” she rested against her head rest.

I lent in her car to start it, quickly turning on the heat, before leaning over the open door once again. 

“Work on your record. Get all this angst out. But don’t make him wait forever,” I said.

“It won’t be, I promise,” Y/N smiled up at me. It was weak and faint but it was there. “Can you tell him I had to go but we’ll talk soon.” 

I buckled her seatbelt, making sure she was safe. “I will. I’ll let Malcolm and Chase know you left too.” 

“Thank you, Nicholas.” 

“Oh Y/N?” I hesitated before shutting the door. 

Broken but hopeful eyes stared up at me. “Hm?” 

“The album release- we’re only a few songs away from mixing and mastering. It’s almost done. Keep an eye out of those deets,” I pointed a playful finger at her.

She smiled again, this time large and bright. “Noted.”

I stood with my hands in my pockets as I watched her pull out of the driveway, giving one final wave as she turned down the block. With a deep breath, I focused my attention on another friend that needed my help. I know that he was dealing with a huge issue inside and he needed to know the truth. 

As I stepped back inside the house, it didn’t surprise me to see that everyone in our inner circle had filled the kitchen as they watched the scene of Noah and Bailey unfold in front of them. 

Chase went to rise to his feet from the kitchen island but I assured him with a tigh smile. 

“She’s okay. She went home,” I mouthed.

That eased Malcolm and Chase only slightly as they went back to watching this mess unfold.

Bailey looked my way but my eyes were locked on Noah and I could see he was one more blow away from breaking. 

It’s intervention time. 

I knew where Noah was headed and it wasn’t good. Bailey let into him, and had no qualms on what she said to Y/N.

If looks could kill.

No scratch that. If Noah could change into a werewolf I think he would. The rage he held in his shoulders was proof enough. 

NOAH

I felt that rage burning low in my gut again as Bailey stood in front of me. I wanted to kick her out, have her find her own way home, but the good part of me knew that it wasn’t right. She was drunk and it was late, something could happen to her and I couldn’t have that on my conscience. Thankfully while I was outside with Y/N, Matt called Bailey an Uber that was minutes away. 

A few more words and this whole mess would be done and over with. 

“Bailey, you need to tell Noah what you said to Y/N,” Nick said as he came up next to me. 

My eyes snapped up from the old, worn, floors and up to her face. “What is he talking about?” 

She shifted on her feet with hesitation before she explained every mean and hurtful thing she told Y/N tonight; no ounce of regret on her face. 

“How could you say that to her?” I snapped while running a wild hand through my hair. “Why?! You think you know everything but you don’t know a fucking thing. My god, you were one of my biggest mistakes. You need to get the fuck out of my house and life. I’m serious.” 

Except, she ignored me and rested her hands on her hips. “Y/N is Angel?” 

My brow furrowed. “Why the fuck does that matter?” 

“Uh,” Bailey hesitated, fidgeting with her nails. “I thought that’s what you called me because when I saw the contact in your phone-.” 

“What the fuck,” I doubled back, head swirling in disbelief. “You went through my phone?”

A low whistle sounded from the kitchen but I didn’t have to look to see that it came from Matt. 

Betrayal dug its knife deeper into my chest. 

“I-I-just wanted to see what you were hiding-,” Bailey stammered. “I looked through your phone. I had this feeling you were hiding something from me. I thought it was my name but the texts didn’t match up.” 

Suddenly, the little light bulb in my head clicked on. 

“That’s how you know about Y/N’s endometriosis. You saw the group chat with me, Malcolm, and Chase?” 

Bailey remained silent, only nodded to give me an answer. 

“What the fuck, Bailey?! You know how private I am but yet you still went through something of mine!” I began to pace the room, running a hand over my face. 

“I heard the voicemail, Noah! I just thought if we talked it out- I don’t know. We could work it out,” Bailey blew out a shaky breath. 

I came to a halt in front of her. “There’s nothing to work out, Bailey. We're done; finished. You never should have been in the picture to begin with. 

“Noted,” she nodded. “It’s Y/N, isn’t it? It’s always about her! I knew it. I should have followed my gut!” 

A look flashed across her face. “You’ve thought about her..with me didn’t you?” 

Everyone’s eyes landed on me like a burning itch to the back of my neck. 

“Bailey,” I sighed, suddenly done with this conversation.  

“She’s the one, isn’t she?” Bailey questioned, all the anger gone from her eyes and voice. 

There was no use in denying the truth any longer. Y/N and I confessed our love for each other, it was time everyone else knew about it. Although, I’m sure they already did. 

When I finally nodded to Bailey, it hit like a ton of bricks. She said those things, she uttered them. She spit at the face my soul was intertwined with. 

I dare put my angel through this. That’s over now; never again will I put in the crossfires of someone else’s demons. This was my last battle. I could sense Bailey understood, but she wasn’t grasping with the idea that I wasn’t hers. She needed to let go.

There was something in the way I shouted at her earlier, a pain behind it. “How could you speak to her that way?” 

My heart hurt, my hand clutching my chest in anguish. It’s as if I could feel her pain physically. 

Must be a soulmate thing. 

Nicholas watched me, he watched my eyes then he knew. 

The anger was nothing but a shield for pain, like a cornered soldier randomly throwing out grenades, scared for his life, lonely, desperate. I breathed in real slowly. 

What if nothing blew up? What if Bailey just truly didn’t grasp this?

With a deep breath, I rested my hands on my hips. “Bailey. I’m sorry. I wish I could give you what you’re looking for but I can’t.”

Once again my emotions turn jagged and my insides tight.  I waited, wide eyed and heart in my mouth, hoping for kindness, when I explained this again.

“I didn’t want to hurt you. It was never my intention. I sincerely apologize,” I continued. “I fucked up and admit that. It was never supposed to get this far.  I just-I’ll never get over these feelings for her. She’s all I think about. I love her and although I'm not proud you were caught in the crossfire. I’m not sorry for who I love. It’s always her, that’s my angel.”

Finally, a hint of a smile cracked on her stone face. “I already know what this was. There’s a part of you that you kept closed off from everyone, including me. It’s as if I wasn't the one you were really with. Your mind was always on her.”

My face twitched as she cupped my cheek “Don’t let her slip away, Noah. It will be the biggest regret and I don’t want to see it destroy you.”

I gently removed her hand and nodded. “Thank you. Again, I’m sorry.” 

“I apologize for the scene I caused tonight. That wasn't mature of me. I was hurt but this wasn’t fair to any of you,” Bailey began to sober up. “I also owe a big one to Y/N.” 

“Well make sure to let her know.” 

“Uber is here,” Matt shook his phone while walking to the front door, opening it for it. 

With a tight smile, Bailey grabbed her things and quickly ran out the door. Matt, with a two finger salute, kicked the door shut and locked it for good measure. 

“Good fucking riddance,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Wait, Y/N’s still outside,” I shed off my jacket, tossing it on the railing of the staircase. “Let her in.” 

“Noah,” Nick spoke up. “She left.” 

My eyes snapped over to him, heart rate intensifying as my breathing became harsh and ragged. 

“She told me she’d stay,” I swallowed thickly. 

My ears rang with white noise as the room began to close in around me. 

“Don’t panic Noah, I spoke to her,” Nick reassured me with a hopeful smile. 

“But-,” I shook my head. 

“It’s okay. Y/N just needs to work through this. It’s a new phase Noah. You both have to get passed through some shit. You love each other. You are going to be together. Just have some hope.”

Knowing there was nothing I could do at this moment, I nodded and thought about that one word. 

Hope. 

Hope is in the way I feel like I can smile, in the way we are quiet when she can reach out with her eyes. 

Gathering strength to make a better choice, to breathe and let love have a moment to guide me, to guide us.

I knew Y/N needed a little space after this. I knew that, perhaps I needed space as well. To feel love and be loved back. 

We love each other. We love each other. 

I still had a few things I needed to work out, and I think she might too. 

Hope is in that soft shrug of hers, the playfulness of her smile. Every time we reach for the sun.

Maybe when we’re not so different, we will make amends and no longer having to pretend.

Nick’s voice was faltering as I sped up the stairs towards my bedroom where my phone was, still perfectly perched on my desk; almost as if Bailey set it back in the exact spot it was before she looked through it. 

Me: Why’d you leave?

Message Undeliverable. 

“What the fuck?” I muttered while sending another text. 

Me:  I understand you have some things to work on and so do I. But please don’t stray too far, Y/N. I’ll wait for years if I have to. 

Message Undeliverable. 

Fuck. 

There was a chance her phone was off but that didn’t deter me from stopping. 

Me: I love you. 

I breathed out a chuckle when I saw the text bubble turn blue, meaning the text went through. 

Angel 🪽: I love you too, mochi.

The corner of my lips curled up in a smile as that word echoed in my mind again. 

Hope. 

As I stood in front of the bathroom mirror shirtless and a pair of warm gray joggers, sometime after setting my phone back down, I had the scissors on one end of the counter and a buzzer on the other. A soft knock sounded on the opened door and I gave a weak smile to Folio. 

“Are you doing alright?” He questioned while leaning against the doorframe. 

“It hurts, knowing that once again there’s this space between us but the outcome is different this time around. For once, there’s hope.” 

“It’ll be okay man,” he assured me.

“I know.” 

Folio pushed himself off the door frame to hope up on the bathroom counter. “There’s no fucking universe where yall don’t end up together.”

“Thank you for your optimism,” I smiled lightly. 

"It’s true! Somehow in every universe you end up together. Whether you two are married with a son named Kenji or she joins us on the road together after the two of you spend one night together."

My heart fluttered at the sound of those alternate lives. “Kenji? Let me guess-we kick Matt’s ass in Mai tai?”

“Yes, bro!” Folio smacked my chest. “ Y/N is always meant to be there, Noah.” 

I leaned against the opposite wall. “It’s wild how thought out you have this idea of me and Y/N.” 

“Ah, I don’t know,” he shrugged with that goofy smile. “I can see it. There’s other universes out there, you know? I watched this special about it on Discovery+ or some shit.”

“That so?” I raised a brow with a chuckle. 

“Yeah, who knows. But I believe y’all will be.”

We fell in silence for a long beat before it was me who smacked his chest. "Michelle has you watching these specials, huh?”

Folio scoffed while rolling his eyes. “She barely pays attention after she asks to put it on.” 

I couldn't help but laugh, imagining Y/N snoozing on my lap after we watched another episode of I Think You Should Leave. 

“I can’t wait to have that,” I admitted. 

“In time. I promise you. I'm your friend, and I know. Take the time you both need. Heal. I’m a firm believer in patience when you’re trying to catch a good one. Trust me, I’m a fisherman,” Folio grinned while adjusting his fishing cap. 

“Fucking fishboy,” I rolled my eyes with a smile. 

 A hopeful one.

“So what’s with that?” He pointed to the scissors. 

I shrugged while holding the scissors now. “I’ve had all this weight at the back of my neck for years now. I need something new, a breath of fresh air. I’m suffocating. I need to see the back of my fucking neck, man.”  

“I’m not going to be here in case you regret that decision,” Folio patted my shoulder before jumping off the counter, leaving me alone yet again. 

With a long breath, I gathered my hair in a low ponytail, keeping it in one hand while I brought the scissors to it, the sound of chopping echoing in the small bathroom.

“Hang up my shame on display for you,” I sang low as I held up the cut ponytail in front of my face.

I shivered when a cold breeze brushed against the nape of my neck, reveling in the feeling. 

When there was no light, when there was nothing beyond the boundaries of my skin, hope was a ladder woven of heaven’s vibrations that spoke right to my healing soul. 

Hopes was a ladder that both Y/N and I could make it to the top. Because I believe it's destined in our hearts.

All I knew is that Y/N loves me back.

She fucking loves me.

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Part 19

Not a Sound

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 3885

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: You reveal your secret.

Author's Note: Thank you soo much for all of the support and encouragement, especially with the last chapter! I hope you enjoy this one! 😭💜🙏🏼 (BIG DRAMA & EMOTIONS WARNING)

Alternate POV Symbols:

��� ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | (These symbols will bracket sections to denote the POV shift)

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Vaginal Fingering, PIV Sex, Hair-Pulling, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

“Can I have a drink?”

Four powerful pirates blinked at you. 

It was strange to be on this side of the coffee table. Buggy sat in your spot on the couch between the other leaders of the Guild, while Shanks had pulled up a chair beside Crocodile.

Your green, velvet chair felt like an examination table. Like you were under a microscope, about to get chopped into tiny pieces to be studied. 

Buggy had clung to you all morning, barely going a moment without touching you during breakfast. You were grateful he hadn’t tried to feed you any fruit. That thought sent your eyes flicking toward the red haired pirate, more bile climbing up your throat. Buggy’s floating hand rested on yours while they all stared, but you couldn’t get yourself to hold onto it. 

“What would you like to–”

“I’ll get it,” you jumped up, cutting Mihawk off, and leaving Buggy’s hand to float alone when you pushed it away to stand. The little bar felt like miles away, and you grabbed the first thing you could see. Crocodile’s stinky scotch in its pretty crystal bottle. You poured a heaping glass, vaguely hearing a reaction from the couch before you chugged the burning liquor.

“What the fuck, baby?”

“Y/N, stop!”

“Don’t— rabbit!”

The three of them surrounded you, snagging the bottle and empty glass from your hands too late while you coughed from that toxic, liquid fire. Crocodile got to you first, kneeling out from the sand at your feet to grab your flushed face, wiping away the stinging tears that you knew wouldn’t be the last. 

“Sweetheart, why–”

“Sweetheart,” you choked out, the sound a mix between a laugh and a sob. “Gods, I’m sorry, I– fuck.” 

The looks on their faces made you want to scream. You rubbed your eyes with the meat of your palms, trying to be less fucking pathetic. 

“Drink, love,” Mihawk soothed, holding a glass of water to your lips. 

“We’re right here, star,” Buggy whispered as he pressed a light kiss to your shoulder. “I’ve got you.”

“It’s okay,” Crocodile promised, leaning his forehead against yours. “You’re our Numbers Girl, no matter what. Alright?”

Your body slumped, nodding as you let them guide you back under that microscope. Shanks was staring at you, but nothing meant anything anymore, so you didn’t bother to study his face. 

They let you sit there. Time was empty. It could have been minutes or years before you finally mustered up the energy to ruin everything.

“I’m fucking stupid,” you announced with a sharp laugh, feeling insane. 

Maybe I am. Maybe he did put me away. 

“Don’t talk like tha–”

“What do you mean, sweet girl?”

“You.” 

Growling at your scarred lover, confessions, and a suicidal accusation flowed through your body, spilling out through your eyes and lips. 

“You were going to kill us if I wasn’t useful. I could have been free, but I… I called those people for you.”

Crocodile’s face was as cold and unmoving as stone, a cliff you could leap off of. 

If only you could have stopped. No one said a word, but the energy was already rolling through you, destroying everything, your throat still raw from that fucking scotch. 

“I was an idiot. I was fucking kidding myself thinking I could wait, thinking I could have a few more days.” Your manic laughter turned to pain, a sob hitting your last words. 

Glancing up at the couch, you saw your three men clenching their jaws. Crocodile’s arm was wrapped around Buggy, that large hand digging into Mihawk’s shoulder, while Mihawk had grabbed Buggy’s floating hand, gripping it in his own lap before it could fly to you. 

“There’s no way I could hide it. Someone at the party will say it…”

“Say what,” Buggy rasped after a long moment. 

Your eyes poured over your men one more time before it was over. 

“My name.”

Everyone paused, and you remembered Shanks was there. His face was a mask, unreadable, and you were grateful for another reason to ignore it. 

“Are you saying that your name is a lie,” Crocodile asked in a dangerous purr. 

“No. None of you ever asked what my last name was,” you pointed out, then laughed as you looked between them. “I guess pirates don’t really care about last names.”

The laughter died in your throat, tears streaming now in your moment of defeat. 

“What’s your name,” Mihawk asked, his voice more gentle than you’d ever heard. 

It’s over. 

“Y/N Sylvad.”

…

…

…

“Like the wood company?”

You clamped your hands over your mouth, the shock of laughter that burst through you at Buggy’s confused face, his cute question, almost had you believing it would be alright. 

But the other men in the room shifted. Crocodile pulled his arm away from the other two to rest his elbows on his knees, leaning toward you while he answered his clown.

“Not a company. A fucking empire. Sylvad’s Lumber and Shipping. Is that what you’re telling us right now?”

“Yes,” you breathed, already watching their eyes change. Already watching them forget who you were. 

“Keep going,” he ordered, his words cold, ice building up around you. 

“It’s not mine,” you begged them to believe you. “Dad died and…”

You couldn’t. You didn’t know where to start, or if it even mattered now. 

“Arbo Sylvad was your dad,” Shanks murmured, sitting up a little straighter while he studied you. 

“You’re Sylvad’s heiress.”

“No, I'm not,” you snapped at Mihawk, not caring when his golden eyes flared at you. “Uncle Cedrick got everything. Dad always said it would go to… I was fifteen when he…”

Crocodile’s silver eyes were like molten metal, and you choked on your grief as you watched him stand. He walked to that giant desk of his, and when he returned to drop your thick notebook in your lap, you flinched, bracing for pain. 

“Unreliable,” he growled, tapping the notebook with his hook as he brought his eyes down to yours, his frightening face so close. 

“Everything I said was true,” you pleaded, mind blanking out with fear while Mihawk came to touch Crocodile’s shoulder. He didn’t budge, and though your mouth went dry, you forced yourself to explain. “Those people are unreliable! They'd talk to people that could cause problems for the Guild. People with connections to the Marines.”

“Like your Uncle?”

“What do you mean, boss,” Buggy tried to redirect, his hand on the hook that was digging into the back of the chair, his body leaning against the larger man’s shoulder. “They just sell trees and stuff, right?”

“Every single Marine ship on the fucking water right now was built with Sylvad wood,” Crocodile fumed, Mihawk’s hand stroking along his arm as you shrank beneath those silver eyes. “Hells, almost every ship that sails out of Water 7 is built with that lumber.”

“I don’t get it,” Shanks complained from his chair, though you couldn’t see him past the angry man in front of you. “If you’re the heiress of Sylvad’s, why were you working? You were an accountant or something, right?”

“Investment banker,” Buggy bragged, and you almost smiled that he remembered. “My girl’s a fancy financial advisor.”

“Let’s give our girl some breathing room, Crocodile. We don’t know everything yet.”

You only heard Mihawk’s whispered words because Crocodile was a hair's breadth away. He brought his thumb to rub along one of your cheeks, and the back of his hook to smooth along the other. 

“Tell daddy everything, alright, sweetheart?”

Your eyes fluttered shut until he pressed into your cheeks, slow tears falling from your eyes when you nodded for him. 

“Yes, daddy.”

The warm kiss he pressed to your temple made you want to disappear. Nothing. Nothing ever again. 

You were barely there as the words fell from your lips. Eyes unfocused, hanging loosely around the little table by Mihawk’s seat. You smiled to yourself when you realized it looked strange without a glass of wine on it. 

“Dad died on a business trip. Freak storm. Left everything to Uncle Cedrick. Kat and I got our trust funds for school. Mom got nothing.”

“I think we’ll need more than that, little rabbit,” Mihawk cautioned as he glanced over at Crocodile's stern face. 

“Can I have a drink fir–”

“No,” said the three men on the couch. 

Holding your head in your hands for a bit, you tried to figure out how to say the least amount of painful words to get them to leave you alone. 

“Uncle took us in. He was such a caring person, taking in his brother’s poor daughters, his lonely wife,” you spat, venom dripping from your lips. “I didn’t want to belong to him. My trust fund paid for the best education out there, but all my friends stopped… When they knew I had nothing to give them, they treated me like shit. I kept doing what I'm good at, and I got the fuck out. Went to go live that stupid, boring life.” 

Growling with the frustration of spilling this pathetic, entitled trash, you stood to pace behind your chair, waving your notebook around as if you could make it burst into flames with your will alone. 

“I am fucking amazing at my job, but most of these people just looove the thought of the poor little heiress helping them get richer. Most of them can’t wait to put me in their little collection. Add me to their fucking shelf. Just gotta ask Uncle how much his little niece– FUCK!”

The notebook went flying, skidding across the floor while you shoved the heavy chair over, yelling, raging, kicking that stupid green chair until your shoes fell off, your toes fucking hurt, until your clown stopped you.

“Baby, please,” he soothed, his upper body floating to keep your struggling form from reaching anything on the ground to hit. “It’s okay, star, I’m right here. Fuck those assholes, right? Who needs ‘em!”

Part of you felt guilty for not laughing at his sweet attempt, but the rest of you needed to fight or flee. 

Flee from these powerful men that were already using you to make money. 

“Put me down!”

Buggy’s whispered, “star,” hurt like hell. You held yourself still when he set you down gently, back in your spot as you faced the couch again, although your chair was kicked off to the side. 

“Wanna know how high to set the ransom,” you challenged, your clenched fists shaking at your sides. You couldn’t think clearly enough to read their darkened eyes, even Buggy’s as he took his place between them. “Just so you know, Uncle doesn’t like me that much. He’d probably be happier if you killed me. Or you could buy me, that’d make him extra hap–”

Sand. 

Sand flooded the space around you. It lifted you off the ground, and your breath caught as the coffee table got thrown to the side. You met those silver eyes just before you were in his arms, your legs stretched across the laps of the other men on the couch. 

“What…” you wondered, mind in a daze.

“You thought I’d sell my sweet girl,” Crocodile hummed, kissing the top off your head.

“You told me you would,” you reminded, your body and mind feeling distant, separate from whatever this strange world had become. “How much am I worth? Just keep being valuable, useful? You were already gonna sell me or kill me before you knew what a goldmine I was.”

The icy anger that laced your words made every hand on you go still. Crocodile froze as he started to rock you, and your body couldn’t choose between guilt at hurting them, or anger and fear at what they would do. 

“I think I’m drunk,” you whispered, wanting them to let you go, and wishing that they never would.

“No shit,” Buggy laughed, “I’m surprised you’re alive after that.”

His hands started massaging your legs on his lap, rubbing up and down nervously while you closed your eyes.

“Can I go lie down?”

“I’ll take you, star.”

Crocodile and Mihawk’s hands dragged along your skin as Buggy lifted you into the air, but neither stopped him from taking you. Neither stopped him from floating you away.

Neither called you pretty names as you left the room. 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

“I’ve got you,” Buggy promised. 

Getting her onto that giant bed felt like a race. Something was right behind him. Something would stop him.

Something would take her away again. 

Finally there, he wrapped his arms around her, leaning against the headboard while her scotch scented breath warmed his chest. 

“Your breath stinks, baby.”

Maybe it was a laugh, but that choked sound made his chest tight, like a huge hand was crushing his ribcage. 

I can’t do anything. Fucking useless. Can’t help her.

“Buggy…”

“Shh, I’m right here, star,” he promised. The sound of his name on those quivering lips sent fire, rage, and guilt straight through him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He could never leave her. He could never leave her with them after this. Even if they…

Buggy kissed her temple, trying to be soothing while he waited for them to crash through the door.

Waited for them to take her from him.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

Not a sound.

Not a sound filled the air as the men in the lounge sat with the news that their little lover was the heiress of Sylvad’s.

Not a sound from the two men on the couch as her accusations weighed on them, as though she hadn’t left their laps with those angry, frightened tears in her eyes. 

“That sure is something,” Shanks whistled softly. He stood to pick up Y/N’s chair, sitting across from them. “What are you gonna do with—“

“Find somewhere else to be,” Crocodile fumed, his body vibrating with the need to hurt something.

Shanks nodded, giving a crooked smile, before leaving them alone. Mihawk stared after his old friend, images of comfort he couldn’t provide burning behind his eyes.

He’s going to take them both. 

Serves us right.

Crocodile’s angry huff pulled Mihawk out of those thoughts, watching the man stomp toward the bar. The coffee table his sand had moved laid in his path, until it splintered and scattered from the touch of his vicious foot in that lovely shoe. 

The swordsman floated after him, still in a daze while the larger man imitated their girl, chugging a glass of scotch. 

Mihawk stared, but didn’t speak, didn’t touch.

Crocodile set the glass down before he shattered another one. 

“She lied—“

“Can you blame her,” Mihawk laughed coldly while the other man paced. Silver eyes shot like daggers, but Mihawk couldn’t seem to care about anything at the moment. “She told the truth, just not all—“

“She didn’t trust me.”

He sat again, staring at the floor after those stupid words had left him.

“I don’t…” Mihawk started, pushing himself to move, pushing himself to try. He sat down, and touched a hand to Crocodile’s shoulder, leaving it there after his scarred lover flinched. “We haven’t given her much reason to, have we?”

Not a sound after that. 

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“Y/N! You can’t just leave,” Kat reasoned, pulling the clothes out of your hands before you could stuff them into your suitcase. “What about mom? What about the company?”

“Mom made her choices,” you growled, pulling the clothes back from your sister’s shaky hands. “And I don’t care about the fucking company. It’s not mine.”

“Not if—“ 

“It’s not mine. I’m sick of this fucking life. I’m getting out.”

“... What about me?”

That stopped you. But only for a moment. 

“I’m sure he’d let you come if—“

“Are you fucking kidding me right now,” she shouted, pushing you toward your messy suitcases. “He’s a pirate! If he doesn’t hurt you before, what do you think he’ll do when he finds out who you are?”

“I don’t care,” you fumed as you stared your little sister down. “I'm bored of this stupid life.”

Kat’s mouth hung open, the hurt and pain in her eyes making you want to take it all back, to beg for forgiveness.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t waste this chance to be free. 

“You really have a death wish, you know that? That clown is going to get you killed,” Kat breathed, her voice growing colder as she turned to leave. She didn’t look back when she said her goodbye, just waved her hand over her shoulder. “I’ll look out for the ransom note.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Sleep?

Sleep.

Burning sleep, and stormy seas.

Dad’s voice calling for you. 

You could never find him before the ship went under, before all that Sylvad wood splintered beneath the raging waves.

~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~

“Buzz off, idiot,” Buggy ordered in a harsh whisper, Shanks’ smiling face peeking through the cracked door. Buggy had left his body on the bed to hold Y/N as she whimpered, nightmares ruining her scotch and stress induced nap. 

His head floated by the door, frowning at his old friend. 

“It’ll just be a second, Bugs, I swear.”

Shanks’ smile stretched even wider when Buggy agreed, floating his head out into the corridor.

“This better be good, asshat.”

Shanks felt it. This was it. He could have them both. 

He needed them both. 

“Let’s take her with us, Bugs.” 

Buggy’s look of shock was exaggerated by those red lips of his, and Shanks had to hold himself back from kissing them.

“But she… but it’s dangerous…”

Buggy wasn’t sure he’d actually heard those words, or if he’d fallen asleep, dreaming beside his star. Too many emotions rushed through him, but all he could think about was her. 

“Would you rather leave her here with them,” Shanks rasped, his eyes doing that heavy thing they do, although there wasn’t much of Buggy’s body to drag them down. “We can protect her. You and me, Bugs.”

The clown had to fight his body to stay still as he held her in the other room. The need to move, to fidget, to pace, made him dizzy. 

“What if she doesn’t wanna go,” Buggy wondered. Images of Y/N smiling, laughing, screaming, flew through his mind, each one making him doubt that he could ever make her as happy as she’d seemed once things had started to settle here. 

“I already asked her. I know she’ll say yes. She wants you to be happy, Bugs. Just like I do,” Shanks confessed, brushing a bit of blue hair out of Buggy’s face. He rubbed his thumb across those red, parted lips. 

So close to everything. 

“When did—“

“Buggy?”

Shanks watched his clown fly away from him, hopeful that it’d be the last time. 

Buggy flew away from his old friend, every confusing thought going blank besides the need to comfort that soft, scared voice. 

“Right here, got you, baby.”

~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~

“Buggy,” you whimpered as new tears fell. 

“Shh, you’re okay. Everything’s okay.”

Painted lips covered your face, kissing your tears away until you shivered, his soothing hum blocking out everything else. 

His touch kept it all at bay. 

Every split second of memory was grief, so you curled against him, running your hand along his side. Your body writhed, whining for him as he stroked your hair and back, then pulled away.

“Hey, star, it’s o—“

“Please, touch me, Buggy,” you begged as you reached for him. “I need you so much, I need you…” 

Pathetic grief poured back in at the memory of what you’d witnessed last night, but you couldn’t fight your need for him. 

“Please, touch me.”

“Just tell me if it’s alright, okay, star," he breathed after pausing to study your face, tracing his fingers along your cheeks.

“Please,” you gasped, his lips on your neck were saving your life. Saving you from your mind. 

A touch against Mihawk’s tender bite mark brought the world back, but then Buggy was tearing you both out of your clothes, kissing down your arms, your chest, your stomach. Kissing every inch of your skin until you were crying with need instead of pain. 

Begging, begging for more. 

“Don’t worry, I’m here. I’ll take care of you, star.”

“Bug—“

Breathy, desperate moans left your throat as his fingers plunged deep inside you, and he swallowed the rest of your sounds in a wild kiss. His tongue was eating, tasting, and you almost laughed into his mouth at the memory of scotch, until his free hand found your clit. 

The fingers inside you were perfect, knowing exactly what you needed. Finding that spot, giving you steady touches that built in pressure and speed until you were clenching around his fingers, body shaking with pleasure and gratitude. 

“So beautiful,” Buggy praised, his voice full of a quiet awe as he smiled down at you. “You okay, baby?”

“Fuck me, Buggy,” you pleaded as your weak arms failed to pull him closer. “I need you inside me. Need to feel you.”

His eyes were wide, concerned, but he smiled when he kissed you. 

Smiled when he gave you everything you needed. 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

How?

How can she be real?

How can she want me this much?

Want me after everything…

Buggy pushed those thoughts aside as he smoothed his ungloved hands down her body. 

Hands that he felt safe letting her touch. Just like his bare face that he could let her see. 

He let out his own soft, needy noise as he watched her writhe and squirm, begging for him to touch her.

“Fuck,” he hissed, just the touch of her perfect, dripping pussy against his sensitive tip was too much. Too much as he lined himself up.

“Look at me, Buggy,” Y/N cried out, her watery eyes swallowing him whole, just as he sank his cock deeper and deeper. He couldn’t hold in his moans at the pure fucking bliss that she held inside her, that she let him feel. 

“Look at me, please.”

Buggy kept his eyes on hers, her request setting off alarm bells in his mind that he had to shut down, throw out. 

She wants to look at me like this. She wants to see my face. There’s only one per—

“Buggy! I’m close, please,” she panicked, reaching up into his hair, pulling gently as her breathing went ragged. “Need to feel you, want you so bad.”

“I want you too, star, I’m right— oh gods, baby. Fuck, you feel soo good…”

Y/N screamed his name.

His name. 

Over and over while he shoved his cock as far as he could go, claiming that sweet, warm pleasure she let him take. 

Y/N pulled him in, her body made to take his come, made to milk him, to drain him, to let him fuck it back into her while she babbled, while her eyes crossed, while that cute little tongue hung out of her perfect lips.

All for him. 

Still sunk deep inside her, Buggy soothed and calmed her frantic noises, kissing her temple.

“I love you so much. My shining star.”

What a feeling to say those words. What a feeling to mean them. To have someone to say them to. 

“I love you, Buggy. I love you so much.”

What a feeling.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: I've been so nervous to add anything new to this world. I hope you don't mind some back story. And some Buggy time 😭😭😭

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Part 20

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[steveshairychest]

"Don't fall in love with me." Steve laughed in a self-deprecating way. His eyes were unfocused and glassy as he stared out at the darkness of lovers lake, his hands fiddled with the nearly empty beer he'd been sipping for the past hour.

Eddie furrowed his brow, mind a little slow from the alcohol as he leaned in closer to the other boy and said, "What if I already have?" They were sitting on the roof of Steve's car, their thighs pressed close and shoulders bumping as they simply just existed together. "It's a little hard for me not to do something I've already done."

Steve exhaled shakily and tipped his head up to the stars. His hands now gripped the glass bottle tightly. "You'll only get hurt. I have a reputation for being a pretty shitty boyfriend." He said it so softly, so weakly, that Eddie had to lean further into his space to hear.

Eddie scoffed once the words registered in his alcohol riddled mind. "That's bullshit." He didn't see Steve flinch. "I think I'd like to decide for myself whether or not you're a shit boyfriend." They've never explicitly talked about their feelings for one another, but it's been implied multiple times. For example, Eddie didn't think they made out as friends in the car before climbing out onto the hood.

He was thankful for the added confidence from the alcohol because he didn't think he'd have the bravery to be this straightforward about how he felt without it.

"Steve, go out with me. Be my boyfriend."

Steve blinked, looked him up and down, and laughed. "You're drunk. You don't want that."

Eddie shoved him lightly. "Fuck you. You don't know what I want. What I want is to call you my boyfriend. Hell, I'll even double that and propose to you right now! That's how serious I am!" He was so fucking scared. He didn't know how far this little game between them went. Was he crossing a line? He'd thought he'd read the signals right but the shock on Steve's face was telling him that maybe he didn't. Maybe he needed to start walking home right now.

"You're serious?" Steve whispered. "You actually want to date me?" Eddie wanted to strangle everyone that had made Steve hate and doubt his own self worth this much. He looked so vulnerable in that moment. His eyes were so wide, so bright under the stars, and his lips were parted ever so slightly in shock as he tried to find any sort of indication that Eddie was lying. He wasn't. He's never wanted anything more than this.

"I'm serious. I think I've wanted to date you since like 8th grade." They both laughed at that. Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off Steve's smile, it was a shy thing that he tried to hide with a sip from his beer.

When the laughter died down, Eddie twirled a piece of hair in front of his face and, without looking at Steve, said, "You can say no. I promise not to cry."

"You're a pretty crier, I wouldn't mind too much." He said it so nonchalantly, his eyes crinkled in a smile as he glanced over at a scared shitless Eddie. "Can I give you my answer tomorrow? I...need time to think when my head isn't all fuzzy with booze."

Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. "Of course. I understand." They sat in a comfortable silence for the rest of the night, both of them caught up in their own heads as they watched the lake lap at the shore.

Eddie hoped the sun stayed away for a little longer. He wasn't ready for the morning light to wash away this moment, he wasn't ready for Steve's answer.

But he knew that no matter what Steve decided, he'd love Steve regardless.

Steve Harrington was so hard not to love.

[kombuuuu]

gwen romantic hcs or scenario please? 🥺🤲

Spidery Romance.

Gwen Stacy x Fem!Reader

another bunch of headcanons (and snippets, ur favs) with my favourite girl 🤍

GWENNBBBBB MMMWMAH HHHNG WEBEWEBWEEEHHHH

Gwen: Blue

You: Pink

Dad Stacy: Black

A cat..: Purple

mom friend this, mom friend that

how about just mommy?

is a HUGEE comfort roll in the realtionship

will do little things for you that you wouldn’t even realise

like keeping random containers because she knows you like them

jars 🫙 🤍‼️

she loves taking care of you, loves being who you go to for things

it makes her feel needed, which we know she struggles with

so she loves a partner who’s more co-dependent, like she is

“Baby?”

“Help.”

“Honey, what am I supposed to do with that?”

“Open it, please“ :(

“Oh, you sweet thing… What are you going to do with an empty pickle jar.”

“You’ve eaten all the pickles?”

“I’m… going to grow an ecosystem.”

ABSOLUTELY steals shit for you

she’s not rich, seeing as she doesn’t exacccctly live in her own universe

hey, star crossed lovers are multiversel..

so she steals

just nicks things from the mall she thinks you’ll like

little trinkets or anything small and shiny she can find

also cat figures

small, cute cats. she loves anything about them and will go out of her way to take em for you

(you think she just wants to deny the fact she loves the cats. or stealing)

your OWN little klepto cat

(you both love that game)

“Hey, Sweets.”

“Oh-! You’re home!”

“And I brought a cat.”

*gasp* “What breed !!”

“No clue, but look it’s tail moves.”

Will take you out to movie dates any time she can.

never really knew how to treat a lady so she takes notes from stupid eighties shows

will throw rocks at your window

or climb up the tree next to your house and break in even though she could just go thru the front door.

buys (steals) chocolates in heart shapes and roses to decorate your bed

it’s not even valentines she just wants too

don’t forget the candles and scented bath salts with a whole ass spa set up in your bathroom

“Baby? Wh—“

“[Name]! I missed you.”

“I missed you too, babe.”

“What are the flowers for?”

“Our anniversary’s not ‘til September.”

“Beautiful, we don’ need a reason. Just wanna appreciate you.”

smile and giggle like a little bitch? of course you will

Will eventually tell you about her spider woman endeavours

she’s guilty of hiding it from you

when you trust her so much

slipping out of your shared bed at night to go patrol feels

dirty.

She finally caved to her subconscious and spills it

you don’t freak out on her but she can tell you’re stressed

she tries to comfort you even when you have to opportunity to ruin her life

you could end it between the two of u right then and she’d forgive you

but not herself

“I’m spider-woman.”

“What?”

“The hero, [Name]. Well, vigilante I guess—“

“What the hell.”

“Baby, please. I know I should’ve told you sooner—“

“Do you know how much danger you’re in? Are you crazy? What happens if you get hurt and I’m not here? Fighting crime like that. Fighting villains.”

“I know, sweet girl, I know.”

she comforts you through it while you basically have an existential crisis in her name

you’re more scared she’s going to get hurt

or worse

than you are betrayed,

you can get why she kept this a secret

it takes you a couple week to hone down the worrying

gwen is hella patient with you 🫶

“I don’t like this. You’re putting yourself in harms way, and it’s careless,”

Guilty stare

“,But i’m not gonna stop you.”

“Thank you, [Name].”

“Please don’t die on me.”

“I won’t, baby.”

and when your finally calm you can kind of see the appeal in it

she convinces you to let her swing you around the city

and despite you both knowing you’re probably gonna pass the fuck out

you agree cause it’s cute

“Gwen.”

“Yeah baby?”

“I think—, maybe you don’t understand what I mean by ‘I don’t like heights’.”

“Wh— Oh.”

“What d’yu mean ‘Oh.’?!! You only just realised??”

“I come up here so often, it’s like a second thought!”

“It’s the fucking Empire state!”

“Ehh…”

She’ll take you nice places around brooklyn

mostly high up

to let you see the view

and to finally see you in it

she draws you any chance she gets

especially when she takes you to those places

shes been to em so often that she’s got muscle memory for the line to every building, but now she gets to trace the contour of your face around it too

will web you to the building if you ask

just so you won’t fall

“You know there’s not a single universe where I wouldn’t catch you, right.”

“There’s a first for everything,”

She snorts “Sugar—“

“I love you, Gwen. And trust you with my life. I do not, however trust wind.”

“Understandable, love you too.”

When you meet her dad he’s a little skeptical at first

only because you’re so nervous and he’s taught to be suspicious as a cop

but eventually he likes you, and you him

your both like old pals and it confuses gwen

he takes on a very fatherly position in your life

one you missed out on

gwen is ecstatic

the two people she loves the most in the world like each other

the stars aligned for her

she tells you about her struggles with him and is glad it doesn’t affect either of your relationships

“Do you treat my daughter well?”

“Dad, please.”

“Gwen, it’s okay. I’d like to think I am, sir.”

“Cause if you hurt my little girl, everything you do to her will feel a lot worse for you.”

“Dad!”

“I would never hurt your daughter Mr.Stacy, I love her. It’d be stupid of me to let her go.”

He smiled and clapped your back

*groan* “Why.”

she likes to keep you comfy

kinda has a thing for the housewife vibe

so she’s willing to do a lot for you

she’ll notice how empty it is in your house when she’s not there

it’s quiet and lonely

so totally for you (and not also her)

she’ll get you a cat

a small black american bobtail

she had found him while on patrol

saw a box left littered at the park and decided to pick it up

closer she got, more ‘mews’ she heard.

when she saw a short, stumpy looking kitten in the box

her heart melted

so obviously she took it

“For [Name].”

‘mew :3’

“Co-parenting practice.”

‘mmrp’

“God damn it.”

loves the cat with her whole heart

and so do you

you name it Peter

he’s adopted but he doesn’t need to know that

when he does something bad you threaten (emptily) to put him in back out in the street

“Go get a box, Peter. I’m gonna make your momma put you back where she found you.”

“He can’t understand you, baby.”

“Yes he can, look at how he’s looking at me!”

“See his face!? He’s so mocking me!”

:3

“Sure, baby.”

—

EEE 🤭🤭🤭

[luveline]

��� 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

two | chapter list

Finding out you're a princess isn't half as intimidating as suddenly acquiring a full-time bodyguard. Especially when that bodyguard is disarmingly handsome, charming, and can't seem to stop flirting with you.

bodyguard!james, fem!reader, shy!reader, princess diaries au (sort of), all characters in their 20s or older, star-crossed lovers/ forbidden romance james isn't flirty this chapter i lied but he will be <3

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Sirius Black smells like winter. The deep and fruity fragrance of cranberries, pomegranate, maybe cinnamon. You aren't certain, and if he weren't currently an inch from your face, you'd ask him what it is. 

"You poor thing," he murmurs, dabbing very, very gently against the bruised skin of your cheek.

"It's not–" You hiss at sudden pressure. He immediately recedes. "It's not so bad." 

"I've half a mind to rag him around and take up the mantle myself." 

"I'd love to see that," Remus says.  

"I'd look good in the uniform, right?" 

James doesn't look happy at their joking but he's been nothing less than a grovelling puppy since last night, and he breaks his silence to say, "You don't have to wear any make-up if it's going to hurt." 

"Uh, yes she does. Imagine the headlines otherwise: Lost Princess Bruised Under the Imbecilic Watch of New Bodyguard," Sirius announces, sharing a not-so-private smile with Remus across the coffee table. 

"It doesn't hurt," you say to James. 

You're lying. Being smacked in the face with a door isn't just embarrassing, it really fucking hurts. James' biceps aren't for show, that's for sure. He'd swung open the door and you, having tripped seconds beforehand over the cord of your lamp, had been at the perfect height for it to bounce off the highest point of your cheek. 

"Princess," he says now, as he'd said last night, "I'm so sorry." 

You think of his hands under your arms pulling you up into a standing position, and the way he'd tilted your head back. The barking order he'd given Frank to grab something to use as an ice pack, and the warmth of the pad of his thumb as it stroked the soft line of your jaw. 

"It was a freak accident." You smile, careful not to push up your cheeks lest you invite another round of shooting pains. "Please don't feel bad. It's my fault for being up in the first place, I– I couldn't sleep." 

"If you want anything for it, let me know," Remus says. 

"He's got, like, his own personal pain pharmacy," Sirius says. "You should take him up on it. I beg him everytime we fly for some of the strong stuff and he always says no, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity." 

"Let's not start on the co-codamols," James says. 

"I have ibuprofen," Remus placates. 

"I don't need anything, I promise." 

Some ibuprofen would be awesome but you really don't want James to feel guilty. You want to forget it even happened, embarrassed by both your idiocy and your tears. 

Getting hit in the face by a metal door handle hurts. Your reaction had been justified, but crying all over your handsome bodyguards nice hands hadn't been something you'd pictured doing. Not 12 hours after meeting him.

"You want me to do your lips?" Sirius asks. 

"How do you mean?" 

Sirius pulls a metal palette of lip colours out of his small make up bag and shows them to you. He circles two with a disposable brush. "These would suit you. I wasn't sure about your complexion. Now I know, I'll get you more options when we're back in Genovia." 

"Oh, um…" You shake your head at him apologetically. "I don't know. You should do what you think is best." 

He puts the palette away. "You don't need anything you're unsure of. You don't need any makeup at all, my love, it only enhances what's already there." 

"Ten minutes," James says. "Princess, are you sure this is everything you want to take?" 

He taps your suitcase with the side of his shoe. You nod. 

"You can bring whatever you want. All of your things, if you like." He gestures to your bedroom. "Though we can get you anything you need, and we will, you're welcome to pack everything." 

"In a day, you'll know I'm not your princess. Less stuff to carry," you say. 

"You're so sure," Remus says. 

He speaks quietly but not timidly, laid back in your chair with an air of relaxation you wish you could master. He has a small mass market paperback tucked into one pocket of his jacket, the yellowed pages peeking over the hem, and his hand stuffed into the other. His pose doesn't speak of any arrogance. He looks happy to be here, and it puts you at ease. 

"Do I look like a princess?" you ask. You don't mean to put anyone on the spot —you aren't fishing for compliments— so you steamroll your own question. "I just find it strange. Surely I'd know. I would've known before, I mean." 

"Like a princess beacon?" Sirius asks. 

"No, but… I don't know. I think I'd feel it." 

Remus straightens a touch, grinning. "You look like him. The Prince. You have the same nose." 

Remus stands up before you can ask him to explain. James offers to take his bag and he shrugs away from his big hand with an annoyed huff. 

To your surprise, James only smiles, cooing after him, "You know you love me, Moons." 

"Well," Sirius says, zipping his bag closed and clasping his hands on top of it. "You can always have your things sent for once we're home." 

Home for them. 

Truthfully, deep down, you want to be a princess. Something in you is singing, is ringing, a string plucked, a tuner reverberating. Finally, something is happening. Your life could be more than mistakes. 

You're not used to having people around and this entire process has been hard. Getting hit in the face had sucked. But, to have company? This single hour has been one of the best you've had in a really long time. Sirius is sweeter than you'd thought, sarcastic but kind-handed, and Remus' dry humour has caught you off guard enough to laugh aloud multiple times. Even James' grovelling niceties have been shamefully enjoyable. You can't remember the last time you had someone around who wanted to comfort you.

And that's exactly why you're afraid to admit what seems true. You can't be the Princess, because if you are, you get to have this for a little while longer, and that would be too good to be true. 

Much, much too good. 

"Alright, let's go. Sirius, you have the keys?" 

Sirius swings his bag into James’ arms. “Am I driving?”

“What a stupid question.”

Another member of James’ security team meets you at your front door to help carry the bags downstairs and into the back of the SUV. James won’t allow you to help and getting inside while they’re still packing the boot feels spoiled, so you stand at the corner and feel too many eyes on you. James stands beside you, one hand hovering behind your shoulders to shield you, ridiculously, from the hedge behind, the other held aloft in level with his mouth, fingers curled around a small radio you’ve seen clipped to his shoulder. He’s enunciating clear, short instructions. He doesn’t sound as severe as you’d pictured someone in his occupation would sound. 

“What’s traffic like?” he asks. The answer buzzes down the line, inaudible to you but obviously understood by James. “Alright, brilliant. We should be on schedule, then. Is the third team on call?”

You can make the next answer out. “Yep, they’re waiting. You want them at the front?”

“Please. I want everyone we have, ideally.”

“Isn’t that overkill?” Sirius shouts from the passenger seat of the car, bent over the handbrake to be heard. “All three teams? That’s twelve men. None of my sources hint at any leaks.”

“I’m being over cautious.” James smiles at you, so suddenly you smile back on instinct. “Security on call get paid either way. Might as well make them work for it.”

He ushers you into the back seat, a cushy leather bench fit for three people. It’s rented, but Sirius is quick to pop a section behind his chair for you to show you the drinks fridge. 

“Oh,” you breathe, legs lit and cooled by the light and the chilled air, “cool.”

“You’ll want to drink one before James assesses that they’re poisoned.”

You wince back. “Are they poisoned?”

“Probably not, my love.”

Sirius is a mixture of flirtatious and genuine that you can’t wrap your head around. He’s awfully handsome, too, which makes it worse: he’s tanned, his curls shine, and he has the most perfect Roman nose you’ve ever seen. He’s almost as handsome as James. 

“Let me be very clear,” he says gently, turned in his seat to face you, “I’m not an intelligence agent. I don’t know nearly as much as darling Jamie about security, but I have a lot of friends in high places and, as far as I’m aware, nobody outside of the British or Genovian government knows what we’re doing here. And nobody has reason to hurt you just yet.” He grins. “It’s James’ job to be paranoid, but that’s all it is.” 

You waver, and his cheerful smile fades. 

He lowers his voice, tone sympathetic. “I can always try one first if you’re worried.”

The driver’s door opens and James climbs in. “Try what?” he asks. He moves through a routine quickly of safety checks like a learning driver would. He rolls up the open window and turns in his seat, gaze flitting between you and Sirius suspiciously. “Everything okay?”

“I think the Princess is a little anxious about leaving the country,” Sirius says. 

“Yeah?” James asks, eyes back to the windshield. He turns the key, and the car warms to life with a low roar. 

“A little.” You nudge the fridge closed with your foot. 

“What was that?” James asks. “Is that a fridge? Do me a favour, don’t drink any of that. I'll get you whatever you want at the airport.”

“She can’t have a bottle of water from the fancy jeep but airport drinks are fine?” Sirius laughs. 

“Spike one fridge’s worth or the entire supply chain?” James asks. 

“What if this assassin is inefficient?”

“Assassin?” you ask. 

James glares at Sirius. "There are no assassins, Princess. He's being ridiculous." He looks to you with a smile. "You have everything?" 

Your expression, a sickly grimace, has him giving pause. All fake smiles and dramatics fall away, and in its place is the genuineness you'd been met with last night. 

"Hypothetically," he says, "there are assassins. In reality, there absolutely are not. You're not in any danger, alright? Sirius is the master of badly timed jokes." 

"Okay," you say meekly. 

James nods and you buckle in, sitting back in the comfiest car seat you've ever sat in and turning your face to the window. You look up at your flat building, and as the car starts to move, it shrinks. You drive further and further away, until you turn a corner, and your life is out of view. 

—

James is worried about you. As an acquaintance, he's starting to think you're a worrying person. There isn't a whole lot of spark behind your eyes — you rival Remus for number of tired smiles. 

He wonders why you hadn't packed any of your art supplies. Your room is teeming with them. Even if you're correct and you aren't the Genovian princess after all, there's still a day or more before they can actually confirm that, and factoring in travel time, you won't be home for at least a week. A week without your sketchbooks and paints and pencils. 

As your bodyguard, as a bodyguard, James has always taken concern in his charge's overall health, mental and physical. You don't seem ill, but you do seem unhappy. 

"Are you afraid of flying?" he asks, hoping that will explain your distance. 

He stands less than half a foot from you. He'll allow you some more space just as soon as you're not in an airport. 

"I'm not sure," you say. 

Another peculiarity, you're a pathological liar. 

Okay, that's unfair. You aren't pathological — James is an excellent judge of character, as his job requires, and he's gotten good at profiling a person's motivations. Your motivation is to become the smallest version of yourself that you can be. Any possible imposition is set aside, such as your refusal of painkillers when your cheek can't not hurt. You refuse to inconvenience others. 

"Is there something I can do? To help you feel better?" 

You smile awkwardly. "Is that your job?" you ask, voice lilting upward with self-consciousness. 

"Kind of. You know, as soon as your paternity test is recognised, you could ask for just about anything. An assistant, as many assistants and attendants as you want. Your security will most certainly increase, especially when the Palace makes a statement." 

He notes your widening eyes and backtracks. "It's not really my job, but I wouldn't mind. If you think of anything, let me know." 

You hide your hands in the pockets of your hoodie. You're dressed as he advised, comfortably and nondescript. 

"Do you need anything from me?" you ask. 

He hides his surprise, eyes doing another lap of the semi-private waiting room he's ushered you into. He takes in business men, officials, and diplomats for the tenth time in half an hour. 

"I don't need anything from you, Princess. Thank you." 

"I don't want to make your job any harder than it is." 

"You haven't." 

"That's not true," you murmur, bruised cheek  toward the floor and away from view. 

"That was my fault," James says. "Not yours." 

He can feel the heat of your tears running down his index finger. 

"That was my mistake," he reaffirms. 

You don't answer, but James knows it isn't an agreeable silence. Which is fine, he isn't trying to dominate your opinion, would never assume he had the right to police what you're feeling. He wants to reassure you more than he strictly should. 

This might be harder than I thought, he thinks. 

"The flight is near enough three hours. You're sure you don't want anything to take with you? If you're worried about dietary restrictions, there's a salad bar in the Mastercard lounge. I'm sure we can get someone to make you something up." 

"I'm fine… Will you be hungry?" 

He laughs. "You really don't understand the employee employer dynamic, do you?" he asks, not unkindly. "You don't have to worry about me." 

He says it sweetly, careful to ensure you understand. He isn't telling you off. He's teasing you. 

He knows he's done a good job when you lift your head. 

"I don't think you can talk about employee employer dynamics," you say, eyes flitting downward to your cheek's bruise. 

He chuckles, eyebrows jumping up. "Oh, nice! That was a quick one. We'll make a Genovian of you yet, they're all sarcastic." 

"They? You aren't Genovian?" 

"Do I look Genovian?" he asks, gesturing to his face. You splutter. "I'm messing with you. No, I'm not originally from Genovia, but my heart is hers." 

"You've always lived there?" 

"Since I was two." 

Your expression dims. It takes James a second to connect the dots. 

"There are plenty of people living in Genovia who aren't native. Remus is Welsh, can you tell? His accent hasn't quite survived it." 

"You've met before? You all seem familiar." 

"We went to the same boarding school. Well, we actually shared a room. We-" He feels heat crest at his unprofessional phrasing. "We're best mates." 

"And you all get to be together," you say softly. 

"Yeah, we do. We're lucky. Before this, Remus was working as a royal tutor for the young elites, and Sirius was trying to micromanage Julianna. That's your cousin." 

"The Princess' cousin," you correct. 

"You brought us back together," he says. "You'll have to forgive me for hoping you are who they say you are." 

"Lily never really explained, how I- I mean, why they think it's me." 

"Well," he says, stepping closer to you still, and lowering his voice, "my assumption is that, because the Prince's passing was a freak accident, they hadn't really planned for any other successors yet."

"Well, what were they going to do? He'd pass on eventually." 

"I believe there were hopes he'd marry a Duchess." 

"And have a legitimate child." 

"Yes. You are, to the majority, a secret. The Prince would have been seventeen at the time of your conception, which is a royal scandal if I've ever heard one." 

"Seventeen?" you ask. 

"Lily didn't tell you any of this?" 

"Honestly, uh, she might have. I wasn't-" You clear your throat mildly. "Wasn't really listening? I had a pretty bad migraine at the time, and I was tired, you know?" 

"You were overwhelmed at finding out you're apprincess." 

"That I might be a princess." 

"Sure. When they told me I might be Prince of Italy, I had the same reaction." 

You wrinkle your nose at him, the most forceful thing you've done in his presence. He laughs a storm, only tamping it down when he remembers he's a  professional. 

Soon, the boys return from their airport traipsing. Remus makes a quiet comment on James' happy smile, and he pretends to zip his lips closed when they both spot Sirius' curious glances. James moves your entourage to a small aircraft, not private but almost, and you board into first class seats, two per each side of the aisle and partitioned by a sheet of frosted plexi-glass. 

You and James sit together. 

He doesn't subject you to conversation. He's technically working, and so while he relaxes into his seat and stretches out his tired legs, he doesn't cut vigilance. 

You look around in awe for some time. Eyes widened just slightly, lips parted, you sit up and sneak glances at everything you can. James knocks on the partition gently. 

"You want the fan? The heater?" 

"The fan," you say, and he supposes you do look a bit warm at the collar. "Please." 

He doesn't bother saying of course, or no worries, or no problem. He's a problem solver. If you're going to be under his watch, he's going to make it as easy on you as he can. That means letting you be thankful without shrugging it off. 

Your eyes close quickly. Your eyelashes flutter imperceptibly in the overhead fans slow breeze, and your lips part as you fall into sleep. Last night's disruption had been hard on you no doubt. He stands quietly and eases sideways down the aisle to check on Remus and Sirius inconspicuously. 

"Anything for me to read?" he asks Remus. 

Remus knows exactly what James is up to. If he appreciates or abhors the extra attention is anyone's guess, until he digs through the bag at his feet and pulls out one of his Russian philosophy novels with a smirk. "This or the newspaper." 

James takes the worn paperback with a wry look of defeat and reaches over and across to Sirius head of curls, tugging one cruelly. 

Sirius looks up, but is only irritable when he notices that it had been James, and not his seatmate. 

"What?" Sirius demands. 

"Do you need anything?" 

"No. Quit mothering. And maybe get some rest?" 

"I can't."

"You most certainly can. Swap out with Frank, or Mickey or someone." 

James swaps out with Mickey. Mickelson, please keep an eye on the entryway. Yes  boss. He returns, finding you aren't as asleep as he'd thought. You look at him through lashes. You've gone soft, in little regard for your appearance, and he's glad for it. Watching you is like watching a spring stretched tall, and now you've finally snapped into yourself and deflated. 

"You alright?" he murmurs. 

You nod, and he sits, and when he doesn't get up you fall asleep again, like you'd been waiting for him to get back. You sleep for hours, through turbulence, Sirius' roaring laughter, Remus' answering chuckles, and the flight attendant who scolds them. James wishes he could do the same, reading a mind-numbing forty pages of Russian literature densely translated and sipping on a glass of coke, the ache of an oncoming pressure headache pinching behind his eyes. 

The hubbub doesn't wake you. The plane lands, you sleep on. 

James whispers your name, quiet, speaking louder when you fail to rouse. Finally, he gives in and squeezes your shoulder. Heat radiates through the thick fabric of your hoodie. You hair is frizzy where it's rubbed against the seat behind you. 

You wake with a raspy cough. "James?" 

"We're here, Princess, in Genovia." 

"That was," —you yawn, turning to hide your face so he can't see— "fast." 

You look like you might fall asleep again. His heart does this awful little flip. He ignores it.

"It was hours. You've slept the whole time– A good thing, huh?" He bends down until you're face to face, an amicable gap between you as he squints at your bruise. He's close enough to share your breath. "Bruise is getting worse. Remus will give you painkillers, and I'm gonna get you an ice pack as soon as we're off the plane." 

He squeezes your shoulder again. "Up. Come on." 

You nod and rub your eyes, stretching in your seat. He averts his gaze and stands as tall as he can, shoulders hunched to avoid clipping his head. Remus has made no efforts to move yet and Sirius is in the aisle, pulling their bags into his arms. 

"Are you alright, Moony?" James asks. 

Remus has gone ashen. 

"He has a migraine." 

"Can you see okay?" James asks. 

Remus gets blurry, occluded vision when he gets these sudden migraines. He winces, hand over his eyes, and says, "Not really. Can I have your sunglasses?" 

"Yeah," James says, holding in the, of course you can, I'd genuinely die for you, that he wants to add. 

He slides his rucksack off of his shoulder and takes his sunglasses from the front pocket. He taps them into Remus' hand. 

"You'll have to touch up the Princess' bruise for me," Sirius says. 

James coughs. "What?" 

"It's easy–" 

"I'll take Remus," James says. 

"You can both go do your jobs, I'll be fine," Remus mutters, flinching at an invisible, biting pain. 

"No," they both deny. 

Remus doubles over. 

"All you have to do is stipple it," Sirius whispers fervently.

"Sirius, I don't know what stippling is." 

"Dots of makeup. She knows what shade we chose. Here, take my bag. There's a clean brush." 

Sirius smiles at James. Remus hasn't always let them take care of him. His disabilities have often made him the subject of disdain, pity, and misguided attention he has never, ever wanted, and he'd mistaken their friendship for lots of things at first. Nowadays, he accepts the help that he needs, help that his friend's are happy to give, and disregards their smothering overkill otherwise. That being said, Remus has always found it easier to accept help from Sirius than James. They all know it and none of them bother saying why that is aloud. 

Flying nearly but not quite privately means they can get off the plane whenever they're ready (within reason), and so James ushers you back into your seat where you'd been standing tentatively in the aisle and presents the little make up bag. He kneels in front of you. 

"I'll get the painkillers," he says, remembering his earlier promise, "Sirius is preoccupied, so. You're stuck with me on touch ups." 

"Is it bad?" 

"No. Does it feel bad?" 

Your slow response is telling. "No," you lie, "it's not that bad." You point at one of the colours through the clear case. "I think it was that one." 

"Thank you," he says, murmurs, opening the case. There's a brush tucked inside, and he picks it up clumsily. 

"Does he have a mirror?" you ask. "I can do it myself, if you want."

"If he does, he didn't give it to me. I promise not to mess you up too badly, Princess." 

James presses the brush into your chosen colour and pats. The concealer is harder than he'd thought it would be, tough under the brush. It all looks silly in his hands. 

"Lean your head back for me," he says softly. 

You tip your chin up. Your eyes close as he begins. 

He's too careful. The colour doesn't want to transfer. "Sorry," he murmurs, applying pressure. You wince but say nothing to stop him. "Tell me if it hurts too much." 

"It's only a bruise."

"You're allowed to be hurt. And you should be more angry with me." 

"It was an accident." 

"It was my mistake." He watches the bruise disappear under concealer, but the colour doesn't quite match your skin. He tries his best to blend out the edges. "A professional mistake, which means you're more than allowed to be annoyed." 

"I'm starting to think you want me to be mad," you say. You're trying not to move, and so each word is half a whisper. 

"I do. I want you to be furious. It's ten times harder to keep someone safe when they have no self-preservation." 

He gives up on the brush and uses his pinky, his cleanest finger, to smudge out the blocky colour he's left behind. Your skin is scorching under his touch. 

"So if I'm angry with you, that makes your job easier?" 

He hums. "Mh-hmm. Much easier." 

You hold your breath as he finishes up, a gentle patting motion as he was instructed. 

"How some girls do this every day," he mutters. 

"It gets easier." 

"Yeah?" He drags his pinky down your cheek without thinking. "Hopefully this is my last time. It looks fine. Maybe don't stop in direct sunlight." 

He collects all of his things and pulls the makeup bag into his chest, easing his way out into the aisle again. You follow. Everyone else has left, except for a pearly-smiled flight attendant, who's smile grows impossibly wider as they approach. 

"Everything okay today folks?" he asks. "How was your flight?" 

James offers thank-yous and guides you down the length of the plane to the exit. You're quiet from the plane to the steps, his hand ghosting your shoulder, to the tarmac, where your security entourage awaits. Including James there are eight bodyguards. Two stick close, five form a mock perimeter around you. 

"Unfortunately, you might draw attention from the protection detail alone. It's up to you, Princess, but I can hide your face." 

"Is that… dramatic?" 

"It's completely up to you. I don't think it's dramatic. Just depends on how comfortable you are with your face potentially being used somewhere." 

"Can I– Maybe I'll stay close," you say, pulling your hood up. 

"Yeah. Tell me if you're uncomfortable." 

He takes you by the elbow and you walk. There aren't any paparazzi waiting outside, and James thinks maybe the news of your arrival has escaped them, and you won't be exposed to the madness that is paps with a story like this one, until he sees Sirius and Remus waiting at the glass doors into the airport. 

"Can't we go around?" Sirius asks. 

"They have to check our passports, idiot," Remus says, with little malice. 

"You can fucking see them, mate," he says to James. 

James motions for you to stand where you are and crosses the gap to get a better look. Mickey takes his place by your side. 

"Fuck," he hisses, "what the fuck is that? Who fucking leaked?" 

"Should I be worried?" he hears you ask quietly. 

"Mickelson, give the Princess your sunglasses." 

"So yes, then," you say. 

James props open the door with his foot. "Princess, you're going first. They'll expect you in the middle. Hopefully that'll minimise what they can get." He holds out his arm. 

You slot perfectly underneath it. 

"Ready?" he asks. 

You don't look very ready. You nibble your lip and nod anyhow, tucking your face into his front. James walks you forward, into a storm of white flashes and shouting, the precipice of your new life.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter <3 please consider reblogging if you did, I'd love to know what you thought and what you want to see in the next one! and a happy new year !!!!

[hhonghu]

My love for Albedo and Rubedo have returned to punch me in the gut

I'm picturing a scenario where Rubedo comes across Albedo's s/o and they don't notice any difference, so they treat him just like they would Albedo and end up taking part in some intimate activities

And would you look at that, now he's in love with Albedo's partner too

Guess there's gonna be some sort of competition now :)

(Not a request, just brainrotting)

[Thirst]!

those two will be pulling each other's hair i can see it lol

oh poor ruebedo! drowning in your affections that was meant for your albedo. you didn't notice the star gone from his neck, the one you called pretty all the time when you compliment albedo. you approach him from the back with an embrace, nuzzling his hair and asking how his day has been. ruebedo tensed, unsure how to react. shit, it was albedo's lover. he can't be identified, he mustn't. so he tries, tries to act the way he believes albedo would act with you; turning around and hugging you back, burying his head in your chest and you're none the wiser, returning back his affection.

oh, tsk tsk, reader you're meanie! how dare you! you've captured his heart, all the while albedo was gone and he was in his place, he was spoiled with your love. your arm around him as he sits down with you on the couch (i know there's no couch in his lab but bear with me lol) and relaxing by the fire, you playing with his hair occasionally. you tell him about your day, saying how you missed him and wished he was by your side. rubedo was feeling warm, hot. the way you say it, it makes his stomach churn in want. how could albedo keep you from him? the way you caress him, telling him how you love him, makes jealousy burn inside him. he must have you, albedo can't! albedo doesn't deserve you! he's always away doing god knows what but he's here! he'll let you take him, he'll be yours!

so he takes action. he makes the first move, sitting on your lap and wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close, kissing you. you were taken aback at first as your albedo was shy when it comes to being intimate with you but you won't complain, you were excited more than anything, believing your "albedo" wants you.

one things leads to another and now we have ruebedo being fucked sensless on the couch, face buried in the pillow and eyes crossed as your hips thrust in a fast pace. "hghuk—! [name]! slo—slow down! you're gonna make me cum! i'll ohh— i'll cum!", you hips thrust faster, hips snapping against his ass and leaning down his ear, "go on, albedo, cum for me." ruebedo screams, in both frustration and pleasure, cum shooting out and ruining the couch below. as he catches his breath he thinks, he'll make you say his name.

after pulling out, you kiss his temple, praising how good he was for you. you help him lie down in a comfortable position and tell him you'll get him cleaned up. as you prepare a washcloth, you were unaware of the real albedo entering the cave, seeing his doppelgänger lying so comfortably on the couch and seethes. look like there's a pest he needs to take care of.

could've gone for a better route and have a threesome with both ruebedo and albedo but i like to see fights hehheheh maybe right after? tame them a bit and they'll be pliant. and to make them get along, you fuck their holes! <33 (should've done this tbh lmao)

[powderblueblood]

HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER FOUR — HOT SKIN and a HALL PASS

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summary: rules, you've recently learned, are for breaking– sanity is also, apparently, relative. after making a statement in the cafeteria, you play hooky with eddie in main street vinyl. content warnings: MINORS DNI tension you would need a chainsaw to cut through, farm-to-table snarking, do they even know they're yearning, nancy wheeler i'm sorry i shittalked you again (it will get better i swear) word count: 4k

Dear reader, do you ever feel like you’re completely losing your grasp on reality? 

You’ve cruised through life almost seamlessly up to this point. Yours is a well-oiled machine, one you painstakingly built yourself. But do you ever feel like you’ve spent so much time constructing something so carefully that it doesn’t make sense to you anymore? 

Like you can’t see the forest for the trees, or the treason for the thrill. 

Do you ever want to light your whole life up in flames, just to see what’s really fireproof?

“So, which is it?” 

You’re standing at your locker, making a bad job of touching up your now-flaking under-eye concealer when a voice rings out from the other end of the hall. It bounces off the cool metal of the lockers, the tack of the linoleum. It makes your shoulderblades go tense. 

“Has little Lacy been hiding a pair of brass balls this whole time, or is she on a suicide mission?”

You’d roll your eyes, but your face is aching. 

“Showing up with me this morning would have been one thing, but sitting yourself at my little table of outcasts? At lunch? The most important social event of the day?” 

Munson lets out a low whistle from where he leans, a couple of lockers up from yours. 

The hallway is deserted save for the both of you; you, out on a forged hall pass and him, probably just ditching to ditch. You peer at him from behind your locker door. He’s standing slanted in a long, lithe line made bold and jangly by his carefully curated metalhead armor. 

You, and this comes with a hefty dose of begrudgery, have to hand it to him– he leans great. 

“Talk about blowing up your reputation beyond repair.” 

You know he’s making fun of you– he’s not exactly subtle about it, nor is he about anything. It’s all in the lilt of his tone, how ridiculous he thinks the interwoven politics of the cafeteria are, how dumb he thinks you are for considering that in the least bit important. 

Munson’s idea of survival in high school is attacking conformity with a nuclear bomb, whereas yours is a little more artful. 

“I know this might be hard for you to comprehend, Munson,” you sigh, and the sound rattles through your ribcage– you are tired, tired of him, “given that your understanding of object permanence has clearly been stunted at an infantile level, but the world does not revolve around you."

"No?!" he croons, sarcasm slicking out of him.

"I was catching up with Ronnie.”

“Right, because you guys have been such good gal pals up to this point,” Munson scoffs. 

His face, framed by those wild waves, materializes in the reflection of your locker’s mirror, peering over your shoulder. You slam the door and pivot to face him properly, impact ringing out like a gunshot. 

He does a little jump, a shadow of his shock at you on Harrington’s porch. 

That reaction is like a shot of espresso straight to the veins.

Good. Be afraid. Asshole.

You're sure as fuck awake now!

“Lab partner love never dies,” you say, leveling his stare. “You’d know that if you showed up for Biology once in a while.” 

“Maybe I need a tutor. I could use someone to help me brush up on anatomy.” 

“Sorry. I don’t teach remedial.” 

“Maybe you should start. Rehabilitate your image.” 

“Again, who died and made you my parole officer?”

His expression cracks; a gasp of a laugh. “Oh, so you remember all that?”

“My hippocampus is alive and kicking.”

“Your hip– what?”

Your lips purse, and just as you’re about to throw another verbal dart at him, the voice of Ms O’Donnell cuts through the both of you. 

“I hope you two have a damn good excuse for loitering in this hallway– because if not, Mr Munson, I believe you’re less than one detention away from suspension.” 

Munson’s got this terminal disease where he’s more smarm than charm, despite his warped perception of himself. There’s no way he’s going to handle this with the grace that’s necessary, because O’Donnell hates him anyway. 

He keens his head in the teacher’s direction, ready to roll out some useless excuse. 

Before he’s even got the chance to speak, you cut him off. 

“Hall pass, Ms O’Donnell.” You flash the fake yellow slip at her, careful to obscure the names– you’ve usually got one of these forgeries to hand, just in case you need it, and teachers generally trust you enough not to check them out. It comes with the whole work-life balance you’ve been treading for the entirety of your high school career; you’re well-liked and you’re maintaining an impressive grade point average. They don’t give a shit what you do other than that. 

“The Weekly Streak has run into a printer snag and Nancy Wheeler’s car is on the fritz. Eddie,” his first name, which you never ever use, feels weird and heavy on your tongue, “offered me a ride to the printers to make sure it gets worked out– it’s a big issue. What with the game this weekend and everything.” 

O’Donnell’s eyes narrow. You nudge Munson right in his funny bone– hard enough for him to wince. 

“Right?”

“Right! That big game. Front page news, Ms O’D. Gooooo Tigers.”

The teacher clicks her tongue against her teeth, her rock hard stare challenging the delinquent beside you– it’s entirely likely that Munson could have blown it for himself just by virtue of being alive and in O’Donnells sight line, but you know she’s got no reason not to believe you. 

See, your reputation at the school newspaper precedes you; it’s just about the only thing that really holds your interest within the monotonous structure of Hawkins High. With your finger on the pulse of Hawkins’ student body, it only makes sense that you serve as a fierce and unforgiving editor of the Streak’s society pages– funnily enough, that hardline professionalism included never giving Munson’s infamously lame Dungeons and Dragons club a single mention in them. 

Vetoed, you’d drawled at one of the more well-mannered members that had shyly approached you about writing a piece. Not Ronnie– she knew better than that.

How come? they’d whined, as their fearsome leader glowered near the lockers just like he was doing now. 

On grounds of irrelevance. I’m not wasting valuable inches on a make believe board game club. 

This activated Munson. Lacy, you wouldn’t know valuable inches if they rammed you in the–

“Make it fast,” O’Donnell decrees, and you feel her watch you as you take off down the hallway. With a snappy quirk of your painted fingers, you gesture for Munson to follow your lead. And you better believe he does, almost tripping over his ratty Reeboks trying to keep in step with you. 

You both heave open the double doors, squinting against the unseasonable late autumn sunshine. Heels of your ankle boots clicking against the concrete, you make an unconscious beeline for the parking lot– for Munson’s van. 

“So– what now?” he asks, dur-dur dumb as all hell. 

“What now is I just got you a free pass to play hooky,” you say, little miss cactus flower, prickly with annoyance. You shield your eyes against the blazing light. “Weren’t you ditching anyway?”

“Yeeaaah,” Munson hums, scratching the back of his head, “But… the plan kind of was to smoke a joint and go to the record store.” 

“Doesn’t sound like a complete waste of time,” you hear yourself saying before you realize it, yanking at the van’s passenger door. You pause, raising an expectant eyebrow at Munson. Isn’t this your cue? 

Baffled, bewildered, but grinning despite himself, he extends that silver ringed hand and helps you haul your ass into his beat up chariot. 

Completely losing your grip on reality.

–

It’s a fugue state. It’s an out of body experience– you’re watching yourself from outside your corporeal form and you have no logical control over what you’re doing. 

That’s the only way to explain why you’re standing in Main Street Vinyl, elbow to elbow with Eddie Munson. 

But that might also be the weed talking. 

You don’t know where the hell he gets this stuff, but it’s strong– way stronger than the shit he’s sold to your friends ever since he started dealing. Well, you guess it makes sense that he’d keep the good shit for himself. You’d do that too, if you were him. 

What if I was him, you idly wonder, peering up at him as he flicks through letters R through T in the metal section. His tongue peeks out of his mouth as his ringed fingers work though the vinyl, carefully considering each one. 

This is what you mean by obvious– you, for one, would have the good conscience not to look so stoned while you’re so stoned. 

You definitely don’t look stoned right now. 

No one can even tell that you’re looking at him, up from underneath those thick lashes of yours. 

He’s got thick lashes too, come to think of it. 

Munson is actually not completely unfortunate looking– but again, if you were him, there’s no way you’d wear your hair like that. You’d keep it long-ish, though, you think. He’s got a point there; a nice curl pattern. Maybe to your ears. And the clothes obviously have to go– that denim vest is a patchwork disaster. Did he sew all those patches on himself? 

A vision of him hunched over the thing with a needle and thread in hand flits through your brain, pricking himself more than he can pick up a stitch. He’s gone out of his way to make himself look like this– kind of similar to the way you pick up your skirts so they’re always impeccably just short enough. 

Now, the leather jacket you could forgive if at least the collar was different. Maybe one of those Brando-style biker jackets, you could rock that. Or a brown leather number, to bring out your eyes– which are his eyes, of course, his crazy dark empty universes of eyes. 

The kind of eyes with the kind of stare that nails you in place and makes you want to do crazy shit like ditch class and get loaded and stand dumbly in a record store. Those eyes.

That are staring at you. He’s staring at you. Right back at you. 

“I can read your mind,” Munson monotones, unblinking. 

You go flush, heat crawling all the way up to your ears. “Wh–what?”

Then he nudges you and snorts, breaking the spell. 

“You have gotta stop thinking such dirty thoughts about me, ice princess. You’re gonna melt.” 

You scoff, shaking your head– but the cartoonish move is more to ground you in reality than a reaction to him and his idiocy. You’re Wile E Coyote after blunt force impact with an Acme anvil, shaking the circling birds away. 

“They don’t even have what I’m looking for here.” 

Stalking around the stacks of records, with no clear direction in mind, you feel Munson’s laser stare follow you. “Yeah, they don’t usually file Madonna next to Motörhead, Lacy.” 

They’re both filed under M, aren’t they? is what you want to say. “I don’t listen to Madonna,” you protest instead, all quietly miffed and earnest with a crinkle in your brow. 

“Mm, don’t think that’s true,” Munson smirks, rounding on you around the rack. “You gave me a pretty spot on rendition of Like a Virgin– or does your hippocrampus not recall?”

“Hippocampus,” you breathe out, but it’s lost in the din of Main Street Vinyl’s quiet, carpeted atmosphere, “I don’t listen to her, like, recreationally. I can’t help if that song’s an earworm.” A beat. “I also can’t help if you’re a particularly serenadable virgin.” 

“She’s gonna touch me for the very first tii-iime…”

“That was a threat.” 

You make an active attempt toward tunnel vision as you slowly tread through the store, feeling the high starting to turn on you– this was the part smoking weed that you hated, the few times that you’d imbibed in it. That lack of control over the way you were coming across. For a girl trained in the art of saying all the right things, this was dangerous. Your tongue felt both loose and heavy in your mouth, like it could come out with anything and you couldn’t stop it, it’d just roll on out. 

The malevolent presence of Munson and your pathological need to one up him wasn’t helping matters. 

Ever since the parking lot at school, you’ve been stalking around like there’s a target on your back. Evidently, you’re not the kind of girl that chills out when you smoke, which is equal parts a relief and a disappointment to Eddie. He wonders what you’d look like, mellowed out and floating. Your eyebrow unarched and your lips not poised for attack.

He’s also acutely aware that he wouldn’t know what the hell to do with you then, either. 

But he can’t tear his eyes away from you, a hyperfocus that he’s assuming is a symptom of his own buzz. Every little twitch and jump you do– it’s like it’s begging him to pay attention. Like if he looks away for even a second, he might miss something. 

“What are you looking for?” he asks, eyes trained on you while you thumb through the records. 

As much as you love music, and you do, you have a tough time describing exactly what you want to listen to. The notes in the songs that you revisit again and again read more like physical feelings, sparking off in your nerve endings. For example, listening to River by Joni Mitchell feels like something heavy is sitting on your chest. Listening to Hong Kong Garden by Siouxsie and the Banshees feels like you have fairy lights at the end of your fingertips. 

“I want something that sounds…” you say, noticing the distinct feeling of cottonmouth setting in, “Ticklish.”

“Ticklish,” Munson deadpans back at you. 

“Something that sounds like someone’s running a xylophone mallet down my spine.” 

He regards you for what feels like an excruciatingly long timewith this terrible, awful look on his face– brows ticked up over his glassy bloodshot eyes, pink mouth peeling into a grin, and this look, this look of wonderment. Like he can’t believe you’re real, and you’re here, and you’re saying shit like this to him. 

Join the club. 

“... You don’t get stoned a lot, do you?”

“Ugh!” you groan, a little louder than you mean to– the cashier shoots you a glare as you stalk past Munson, stalk past him, cheeks flaring pink. “I know what I’m talking about. I know it when I hear it– I heard a record just like that earlier this year! It’s like, some band from Scotland or something? Totally incomprehensible lyrics, yeah, but that’s what it felt like. It was like… bone deep.”

You hear Munson emit the teeniest hehe! and you just about snarl at him over your shoulder.

Rounding on the alternative section, limited as it is, you feel a welcome sense of familiarity. You haunt this corner when you can, when you’re out of sight from prying eyes. There’s only one other regular purveyor of this little corner of Main Street Vinyl that you know of. You trace a thumb over the spines of the cassette cases–it’s mostly tapes, rarely ever records because tapes are easier to import and harder to damage, and it’s always haphazardly organized–and then you spot it. 

Victoriously, you thrust it in Munson’s face, which is right over your shoulder. He’s frequenting that spot a lot recently. “Ha!”

“Oh!” he chirps, sounding almost pleasantly surprised and plucks the tape from your fingers. “... Cocteau Twins?”

You falter, eyelashes flickering as you look up at him. Dammit. He even pronounced it right. 

“You know them?” You hate how high your voice sounds.

He runs a thumb over the plastic casing, edging a little closer to you. That came outta left field. 

“This shit… sounds like what a haunted music box would sound like.” 

Aaand we’re back in the room.

“Okay…?”

“This is creepy, cursed doll music.” 

And the room is filled with assholes.

“Alright.”

“This is what you hear right before you’re about to get possessed by the ghost of Tiny Tim. The whiniest little bitch ghost of all time.” 

And all the assholes are named Eddie Munson. 

“I get it.”

“You better be careful with this stuff, Lacy-Wacy,” he teases, mocking that fraudulent concern ripped straight from an episode of Donahue. He taps the cassette case against your forehead. “Music like this is a gateway drug. A gateway drug to hanging out with, like, Jonathan Byers.”

You reach out and grab his wrist, tugging his hand and that damn tape away from your face. You’re shocked to find that the skin under your fingers is blazing hot–same as you felt through his shirt when he helped you to the door in your drunken stupor. 

Does he always run this warm? you wonder. Is it all that Satanic poseur poison coursing through his stupid veins?

“Well, it’s a little late for that,” you tell him, and you’re not quite sure why. Probably because every secret you swore would die with you is slowly but surely punching its gnarly hand from the grave, like fucking Carrie from fucking Carrie.

Munson doesn’t even express any overt shock, like he’s learning to roll with the punches of you revealing bits and pieces of yourself through sheer annoyance with him. He just cocks his head, challenging you with a silent, Really?

This chick. This blink-and-you’ll-miss-it chick.

“I ran into him in this corner a lot,” you explain breezily, tilting a shoulder up like it doesn’t bother you, like it’s never bothered you. “We’d always be standing next to each other at the listening booths, and I’d be listening to stuff I couldn’t take home and he’d be listening to stuff he couldn’t afford to buy and… We like a lot of the same music. We went out on like, one date if you could even call it that, and it didn’t work out.”

“Because he’s a creepazoid?”

“Because he was hip deep in it for Nancy Wheeler,” you supply, a green monster gurgling in the pit of your stomach. “Like every other respectable member of the male species.” 

It was the summer before junior year, a punishingly hot one even by Hawkins standards. You’ve never been good in the heat and that summer made your entire body feel ill-equipped, your skin ill-fitting. Main Street Vinyl had those big, big box fans right near the cash desk which was right near the listening booths, so you would spend the majority of your time there when you weren’t being forced to the lake or Skull Rock with your friends. 

Jonathan would look at you with alarm at first, like you were trespassing. Then he’d spy what you were listening to and sneak these small, shy smiles at you that you indulged in– at first, because you weren’t copping a lot of male attention from anyone else that summer. Eventually, it was because his shadowy eyes were always ringed with this tenderness, with knowing. Like you two were sharing a secret. It made you be able to look past the greasy hair and crippling social awkwardness. 

You know you rocked his world the day you breezed past him at the listening booth, leaned in and whispered, I love Linda Thompson's voice, don't you?

But still, the Love’s Baby Soft scented specter of Nancy Wheeler loomed large. You picked what you thought was a secluded spot in the park for your ‘date’, which included a conversation that was almost entirely cruise directed by you. Said conversation completely flatlined when you both spotted Nancy Wheeler cresting a hill, walking her family dog.

At this point, you and Nancy were most familiar with each other from the school newspaper– she, the peachy-cheeked junior, the rising star that was sure to make editor and you, the girl who knew where the parties were happening and where the bodies were buried. 

The picture of coquettishness, she offered you and Jonathan an awkward, stilted wave. Jonathan spoke a grand total of three words after she left, zeroing in on the spot where she appeared like a man possessed. 

You didn’t acknowledge his existence after that.

It’s not that you were particularly hung up on Jonathan Byers, but you didn’t expect someone like him to be able to elicit that cold sinking feeling you were used to experiencing at the hands of other boys and their ignorance. Maybe it hurt more because you thought you had something in common– something real, something that wasn’t shotgunning a can of Busch. Whatever it was, it made you sure of two things. 

You hated Nancy Wheeler, and she wasn’t going anywhere. 

You wished you didn’t hate her. But you also wished she’d dissolve into a fine mist.  

“Wheeler’s a priss,” Munson pulls you out of memory lane in a harsh left turn, face contorting into a half-grimace. It’s the general consensus on Wheeler– the shoes are too goody for everyone to be falling head-over-heels with her, if you want Eddie’s honest opinion. There’s no there there, not like with–

“I’m a priss.” It sounds like you’re defending her. In some weird way, you might be. 

I know what guys like you think of me.

“No, you’re a bitch.” 

His weight on the word bitch makes your knees feel unsteady. The way he says it. It’s not enunciated like an insult. It’s a dagger cloaked in velvet. It’s warm, like he is. It’s almost filthy. It makes you look at his mouth. 

“You’re a stone cold killer bitch,” Eddie’s voice hums low in his chest. His heartbeat is picking up, and he wonders if you can feel it where your freezing fingertips are squeezing his pulse point, “and I think–”

“You two truant assholes gonna buy anything today or am I gonna have to call the goddamn dog warden on y’all?” 

Heaved back into reality by the clerk at the cash desk. A trickle of cold sweat runs from the nape of your neck into the collar of your sweater. Heaved back into reality to see you’re still clutching Eddie Munson by the wrist, and he’s looking at you like you’re the last Popsicle. Cold shock in the middle of a summer’s day.

It gets so hot here in summer.

“I think,” you breathe as you unstick your fingers from him, suddenly aware that you’re parched and starving and your face hurts, “it’s time for me to go home.” 

“I– yeah,” Munson stumbles, also perturbed by the interruption. His red-ringed eyes gain a little more clarity. He’s seeing something you’re not seeing. He shouldn't be letting himself see that. “Let’s go.”

Let’s go back to the van. Let me make you look at me like that again. Let me see if you’re cold all over. I can fix that.

“No, I gotta…” Your head pounding, your thoughts swimming– the sharp and stupid realness of this whole afternoon coming into perfect view. What are you doing? “I need to walk it off.” 

He inhales sharply, a strangled chuckle– oof. That other shoe, that buckled heel of yours, clattering to the floor. He should have expected that, right? There’s no way you’d wanna… Because you’re you and he’s…

Eddie retreats back into himself a step or two; it looks like he’s gone all bashful, a little color dropping out of his cheeks. His hands clasping behind his back. His heart is in his big intestine. 

“That’s the second time you’ve turned me down today, sweetheart. Keep it up, I’m gonna start thinkin’ you don’t like me.”

Munson, get the fuck out of here before I ban you again! and Jerry, can’t you see me talking to somebody right now! explode in a cacophony, the boy and the keeper of the keys to the record store hollering at each other. You take this moment of interruption to nudge the door open with your shoulder. But you don’t start into the street without giving him one more look. 

“Lacy.” He’s grinning this dumb grin, eyes gone soft at the corners.

He’s giving this one last nudge.

Your heart thumps. A reminder– this is really happening. Shit. Fuck.

“That’s the thing, though,” you say, attempting to smooth your expression out with a frosty smile. “I don’t like you, Eddie.”

author's notes: of course, my eternal eternal ETERNAL THANKS for all the love you have shown this story and the anons you've sent!!! writing is crazy so thank you for caring about mine. onto the fun stuff because you know i love a reference: - he leans great. a shameless my so-called life drop but eddie to me is a kind of stunning midpoint between catalano (left back twice) and krakow (would go down on you for days) - someone in the tags said ronnie and lacy should hold hands and i don't disagree. lab partner love never dies! - there's never a bad time to listen to ace of spades by motörhead - there's also never a bad time to listen to treasure by cocteau twins, which is the album lacy is referencing - i always fee like the zombie hand reaching out of the ground motif is unfairly accredited to the living dead franchises or something like that, but of course the most iconic instance to me is from carrie (1976) because women own horror - god, we really need to bring back listening booths in record stores! like we really need to bring them back lest romance die forever. - richard and linda thompson, also forever!!!!! my headcanon for this re: jonathan byers is this particular record is a joyce byers influenced choice. joyce and lonnie loved this record (when they were happy... lol) and played it all the time when jonathan was a baby. their original copy got lost (or destroyed) and sometimes jonathan will play it in the main street listening booth but he won't bring it home because he knows it's painful for his mom. - all my stone cold killer bitches in the house make some noise - jerry from main street vinyl you will always be rob from high fidelity in MY HEART (eddie is barry even though he doesn't work there lmao) - ok my hellcats! that's all the cultural education for this chapter!! thanks again for reading, reblog and scream at me in the asks because i so appreciate (and need) the support and i'd also love y'all to send me prompts! don't be shy! i love an in-universe blurb!

[uzurimisery]

stars so soft. / toji fushiguro x reader

Warnings: suggestive content, friends with benefits to lovers

w.c.: 1k

Written for the @pixelcafe-network Friday Challenge #2

You know it is before you open the door. It’s late, 2 am. The sunset was so long ago it feels like the night has been around the whole day. The guy you started seeing, Alan, a nice guy but a bit boring if you’re honest, left around 11 pm and you’ve just been scrolling through social media on your phone since then. You’ve kept yourself awake, knowing he will turn up eventually. He always does. Toji’s the only person who shows up at the time, with no regard for whether you’re sleeping or not. But like habit you open the door, the hinges creaking under the weight of itself, and sure enough it is Toji on the other side.

“Hey,” he speaks, voice rough from the cigarettes he smokes. His hair is damp and slicked back from his face from the rain. It drips down onto his shirt, the fabric clinging to every ridge of his body. 

You hesitate for a second. It’s not surprise, but more like trepidation. There’s always something about him that makes you feel like a school girl with a crush. He never let’s you know what he actually feels towards you and you’re left guessing. You’ve given yourself the grace to assume he wants nothing serious. 

You step to the side without thinking. It's second nature to let him in. “Hey.” 

He brushes past you, some water dripping onto the tile of your entryway, and you close the door behind him.

The two of you have a complicated relationship. If you can call it that. You aren’t even sure what he’d consider you guys to be. Whatever it is, you know at least you’ll be having great sex tonight. 

“You got a new couch.” Toji is a big guy, he takes up a lot of visual space in your apartment. Its not that you’ve got a small apartment, he’s just big. Tall and muscular. 

“Yeah, I did.” 

It's plush, a deep shade of teal L-shaped couch that contrasts nicely with the warm wood floors of your apartment, really makes them pop. For something you found for $200 on Facebook marketplace, it really is a steal. Fits well in your space and really ties it together in a way the red loveseat you used to have never could. Makes the space cozy and inviting. Makes it feel like a home. 

“Looks nice,” He’s quick to slide his shoes off, sink onto the couch, and place his feet on the coffee table. Maybe when you’re that large you forget that things are smaller than you or maybe he doesnt care, but it jostles the two wine glasses you forgot to clear. They clink against each other softly. Scoffing, you nudge his legs off the table. 

“Seriously?”

He pointedly glances at the glasses. “You have company?” 

You shrug nonchalantly, sliding onto the couch beside him. “Just some guy.” 

It is like a witch goes off for him. Toji’s stiff at that, turning to face you. His brows heavy, forehead scrunched up. Reminds you of a kid finding out they aren’t getting the toy they’ve been eyeing a the store. “You’re fucking other guys?” 

“No, it was a date. I’m not fucking him. Yet.”  You roll your eyes at his tone.

His jaw tightens. “What do you mean yet?” 

“As in I’m not having sex with him yet, but I will later.”  You reply flatly. 

He crosses his arms and stares forward. His posture was rigid like someone shoved a pole up his ass, muscles tensed under his wet shirt. There’s a long silence, which is normal for him he has phases where he doesn’t talk much, but it’s awkward and 

tense. He doesn’t look at you, but he’s firm when he finally speaks. 

“I don’t want you to.” 

“Why not?” 

Its at that he faces you again. There’s a possessive edge in his eyes, something hungry and controlling.  It’s predatory and sends a shiver down your spine. If you’re honest, it turns you on. 

“I don’t want you to,” he’s cold as he speaks. “If you sleep with him I’ll kill him.” 

That should be expected given the whole hitman-for-hire thing. Murder is the most natural thing in the world for him. Comes with the territory. You should probably flinch, act horrified, and cry, but you knew what he was and who he was. 

“Toji, you’re not my boyfriend I can do what I want.” 

 He puts a hand on your thigh as he doesn't miss a beat. “Starting today I'm your boyfriend.” 

“I don’t get a say in this?” Both of you know that you’d say yes if he had asked you months ago, you were just being bratty since he didn’t ask before and now is telling you of this. 

“What like you’re gonna say no?”

You huff, crossing your arms. “You’ve got to take me on an actual date now y’know that?”

“Okay.” He’s smiling at you.

“And I want flowers every week,” you add. If he’s going to decide this for you, you want romance. God knows he’s got to make up for the lack of it he’s been giving you.

To your surprise, he doesn't argue. “Alright.” 

You stare at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The look on your face must say a lot because he laughs, one of those full-bellied ones, before pulling you onto his lap. 

“You’re serious?” you ask, still suspicious of him. 

“Dead serious,” he replies, grip tightening around your waist and pulling you closer to grind your core against his growing erection. His voice is a low growl and he leans in and whispers the next part. “You make me fucking crazy.” 

“Buh buh buh,” you place a hand on his chest and push him back. “Bad dog. Gotta earn it by taking me to dinner tomorrow.” 

He groaned, putting his head on your shoulder. “Fine.” 

You can feel him smiling against your skin before biting your shoulder. 

“Ow!” 

“Sorry,” he chuckles pressing a soft kiss to the spot. “I’m not house-trained.”

©️ uzuzrimisery

[thanotaphobia]

STAR-CROSSED LOVER BOYS.

purgatory is going to destroy me

crossposted to ao3

⋆

“There you are.”

Missa yelps, his whole body flinching– the ax in his hand drops to the ground with a thud. For a second he thinks about running, but then the words register, and the voice, and he whirls around.

“Philza,” he says, a mixture of delight and anxiety thrumming through him. “How did you–”

“Your guys’ base is not hard to find,” Phil says, hands in his pockets as he surveys the area around them with a critical eye. Missa wonders if he's trying to hide the blood underneath his nails. “You should probably move underground.”

“Maybe,” Missa says. “What’s up? Need something?” He’s a little wary– people have been killing, he knows that very well. He trusts Phil, but still. He’s seen the chat messages. 

“Not really,” Phil says. “Most of my team is out and around I got bored. Wanna walk?”

“Walk where?” Missa looks around the wasteland they’re calling home for now.

“I dunno. Somewhere?” Phil smiles at him and Missa smiles back, unsure.

“This feels like a trap,” he says.

Missa kicks his ax to the side where it will be safe and taking Phil’s hand when it’s offered. “Are you going to kill me?”

“I would never,” Phil promises, and they start walking together. “Ye of little faith, man.”

“Everything’s just gone crazy,” Missa says with a laugh, swinging their hands between them. The camp turns to beach turns to forest, both of them relishing in the shade of the trees as they amble along. “I hope we get to go home soon. I miss it.”

“I hope they leave our houses alone,” Phil nods. “Something weird is going on, and I don’t trust it. Yesterday was nuts but I feel clearer today. My head. Less tired.”

“Same,” Missa nods. “I kept getting killed and the respawn was awful.” He’s not exaggerating– something about the respawn on this island is different, lingering in his limbs and sending pins and needles up his body every time he wakes up. The pain echoes, and he knows he’s not the only one because Phil just nods, mouth set in a firm line.

“It’s probably on purpose,” he says. “To mess with us. I think a lot of things are. It’s definitely getting to some of the others.”

“Not you?” Missa asks, pausing mid step to look at Phil. “Are you alright?” He reaches out, takes Phil’s other hand. Phil smiles at him and gives his fingers a warm squeeze, and Missa giggles softly.

“No dreams, at least,” Phil tells him. 

“I’m glad,” Missa says earnestly. He’s glad to hear Phil’s doing okay– as okay as he can be, but like he said, purgatory is getting to some of the others. Missa knows what he means. He’s seen the looks in some of their eyes, the way people are quicker to snap. With Phil, it seems impossible that it could happen, but he’s heard shouting across the hills and felt the blade of a sword too many times now to deny it. 

“I think they want an excuse to go a little crazy,” Phil tells him and Missa laughs again. “Like, this is some fucked up social experiment and we all just went yeah, sure, why not?”

“You guys were so weird,” Missa says and Phil laughs with him now, both of them giggling. “Like, man, we were just trying to do stuff and failing and you guys were shouting in the distance–”

Both of them are laughing together now, and Missa basks in it. He missed Phil, so fucking much. He’s nervous here, but happy too, happy Phil is with him and smiling. Phil looks at him and opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something back, then pauses. Lets go of one of Missa’s hands and turns slightly, peering out into the trees. Missa makes a face at him, looking out in the same direction, but then Phil is nudging him backward and behind one of the bigger trees with wide eyes and a small smile still on his face.

“What?” Missa asks, dropping his voice into a whisper. “Philza, what–”

“Shh.” Phil presses him up against the tree and Missa lets him, lets the hand clamp over his mouth as Phil looks over his shoulder. This is ridiculous, Missa thinks to himself, and he can’t help the giggling bubbling up within him. His laughter is stifled thanks to Phil’s hand, and Phil is also still grinning, biting his lip as they stand there in the shade. It takes a second for Missa to register what Phil heard– footsteps in the leaves, voices. Fit, by the sound of it, and Etoiles. Now Missa gets it; those two have been on more than a few killing sprees, and who knows what’d they say if they came upon Phil and Missa out here. Missa holds his breath, staring hard in the direction of the sound, and while Phil seems insistent they stay quiet he doesn’t seem too frightened. After a few moments the sounds of their footsteps fade, and Missa is left staring down at Phil instead, who slowly pulls his hand away from Missa’s mouth.

Once he thinks it’s safe, Missa whispers, “So are you and– you know. Are you?”

“Etoiles?” Phil asks, and Missa blinks, then shakes his head. “Oh, Fit? Nah, it’s just fun. He’s gone fucking bonkers since we’ve gotten here, though.”

“I think we all have,” Missa says, giggling nervously. 

“Did it make you jealous? Before?” 

“No,” Missa says, and he’s honest about it. He also… kinda gets it. You just have to look at Fit to understand, honestly. “You come back to me anyway.”

Phil looks at him then, the smile dropping from his lips. He stares, something open and honest and brutal on his face at Missa, as though he’s just had a realization. Missa’s about to open his mouth and ask what it is, what’s the matter– but before he can, Phil surges up onto his feet and pushes his mask away from his face, kissing him harshly on the mouth as he slings an arm around Missa’s shoulders.

They’ve kissed before, but never like this. It’s always been on hands and shoulders and foreheads, soft intimate presses of closed mouths as reassurance and comfort. This is more. This is open lips, warm mouth, noses pressed uncomfortably together. This feels like desperation mixed with anguish, and Phil presses Missa harder against the trunk of the tree and Missa grabs at his waist with both hands and kisses back.

“I wish we were on the same team,” Phil tells him, pulling back a half inch and leaving Missa gasping for air. He feels like he’s on fire, all of Phil’s wild nature igniting him at once, leaving him to boil over. Red and blue– Missa feels the distance now more than anything. 

“We could make our own team,” Missa says, dragging him closer, trying to drown himself in Phil. “Maybe.”

Phil doesn’t bother responding to him; just kisses him again. Missa is going crazy, he thinks. Maybe it’s the place– purgatory sending them all spiraling into their own little wells of madness. There’s something about Philza here that makes this feel dangerous, like at any moment someone might pop around the corner of a tree and yell GOTCHA at the two of them. It’s– well, they’re husbands, everyone had pretty much assumed they were doing this anyway, but something about that thought makes Missa squirm a little, which makes Phil press him harder into the tree, which makes Missa duck his head and kiss him back even more. 

They do that for a while, kissing back and forth until Missa’s lips feel swollen and tender. At some point his knees go out, and they both sink to the forest floor. Phil’s in his lap, Missa can’t feel his toes or his lips, and yet he still wants more, somehow.

“Man,” Phil says between kisses, words punctuated by his face against Missa’s. “What the fuck did they put in the water?”

“I like it,” Missa says. He feels loopy, out of it. Maybe there was something in the water. Nothing feels real. He never wants it to end.

Phil laughs at him, pulling back from the kissing to grin at Missa lazily, nonchalant, like they do this every damn day. If Missa wasn’t already on the ground, he thinks he’d collapse. Phil tucks his warm nose into the crook of his neck and they sit there. The sticks and leaves press uncomfortably into Missa’s back and ass, but he doesn’t care. Phil is heavy on his lap, arms tight around his shoulders, and Missa holds him like he wants to every day. 

Selfishly, Missa thinks maybe purgatory is a good thing. Ignoring the death, and the dehydration, and the sun and the apples and the betrayals– he at least gets this out of it. He’s a selfish man. He’ll admit that much.

“Do you think we’ll get the eggs back?” Phil asks quietly. Missa plays with the loose strands of his hand, twirling them in between his fingers, alternating between that and running his hand down the long line of Phil’s spine. Tracing the bumps of his bound wings beneath his jacket.

“I don’t know,” Missa says honestly. 

“It feels like a trick,” Phil says, turning his head. Missa can’t see his face, but Phil’s gaze is directed outwards, towards where Missa knows the sea is. “All of this.”

“Yeah.” Missa can at least agree with that. It does feel like a trick. It makes him uncomfortable. “I’m still useless here, though.”

“Are you kidding me?” Phil turns his head to look up at Missa now, eyebrows furrowed. “Dude, you and your team have been doing better than us. That’s crazy.”

“Still,” Missa says. “It’s mostly Bad Boy Halo.”

“Bruh, BBH is just cracked. Don’t base your worth off of him.” Phil snuggles closer into Missa’s chest, and on impulse Missa leans down. Phil tips his head up and kisses him back with gentle care, and Missa’s heart rate soars. 

“I love you,” Missa says into the kiss.

“I know,” Phil murmurs back into his lips. Missa snorts.

“You nerdy motherfuck,” he says, and Phil laughs, kissing Missa again, and again. “Star Wars?”

“Would you rather me just say it back?” Phil asks, and Missa stops, lips hovering a breath above Phil’s. For a moment neither of them move, and then Missa draws away, inhaling slightly.

“Would it be hard for you to?” he asks. Phil looks at him, eyes suddenly guarded, and then away. The uncomfortable shift makes Missa feel as though a bucket of cold water has been doused on him, trickling down his spine.

“If I say it, it makes shit real,” Phil says.

“And?” Missa demands. “Is me being real a bad thing?”

“No, no, I just–” Phil’s face contorts. “Missa, if it’s real, it means losing you becomes real too.”

“So you just avoid it,” Missa says, and slowly, things click into place. And it doesn’t make sense even then, it just makes him feel… angry. He hasn’t ever felt angry at Phil before, but here they are. His hands tighten around Phil, fingers catching in the rough cloth of his jacket. “Don’t you ever think it’s real for me?”

“I know it’s real for you,” Phil says, and he sounds more cautious now, like he’s seen Missa’s anger. “Missa–”

“No, no no no, Philza,” Missa says, and now he draws his hands back and away, staring at Phil’s conflicted face. “You can’t handle it, sure that’s fine, yeah. But that’s just not fair.”

Phil’s eyes flash. “You can’t force me to say shit.”

“And I’m not!” Missa scowls a little. “I’m just thinking, if I’m such a coward and I’m able to face the fact I love you and you can’t, what does that say about you–”

“Wow.” Phil pushes up and off him, untangling their limbs messily and staggering back onto his feet. Missa hurries to stand up, brushing off his knees as he does and leaning against the tree for support. “Wow, low fucking blow.”

“Says the one who won’t even say he loves me back,” Missa says, and it’s weird how the affection he’d been feeling only seconds ago can fade into animosity so quickly. Maybe Phil was right. Maybe it’s this place. “We split on to teams and yet you only come find me when you, what? Want comfort? Want a kiss?”

“Maybe I just like hanging out with you,” Phil says.

“I wouldn’t know, you never fucking say it,” Missa snaps.

Phil glares at him, raising a hand and wiping the back of it against his lips. Missa drags his skeleton mask back over his face. “Maybe it’s a good thing we’re on separate teams,” Phil says, voice cold. “You always needed your space.”

“Now who’s throwing low blows?” Missa says. The mask serves a few purposes– to match Phil’s energy for one, and two, to hide the way his eyes start to well up with tears. He’s always been a crybaby, but this hurts. It really, truly hurts. At least when they start to stream down his cheeks, they’re hidden behind the comfort of his mask. “Maybe you don’t love me. Maybe that’s why you won’t say it. Just break my heart already, get it over with.”

“Break your heart?” Phil laughs, shifting his stance to something more solid, feet spread apart in the leaves and hands balled into fists at his sides. Missa catches the warning before the actual fire gets spit– the words like venom lashing out across the forest. “Like you broke Chayanne’s?”

Missa can barely see when his hands hit Phil’s shoulders, shoving him backwards on uneven footsteps. “Get away,” he says, then he’s shouting, “Get away, get away, get away from me!”

The heartbreak, it turns out, is very much real in this place. Purgatory, the place between worlds, an eternal waiting room. There’s no going forward here, not unless you play the right cards. Missa’s face feels red and hot and he says nothing as Phil turns on his heel and walks away, not even bothering to look back. He waits until he’s sure Phil’s gone before he crumples to the ground and cries, whimpering into his hands like a baby because he’s gone and ruined everything now, hasn’t he?

But there is an itch at the back of his brain.

Maybe you did the right thing, the itch tells him, gentle hands on his shoulders and fingers petting through his hair. Maybe it’s for the best. You’re on separate teams, after all, and it couldn’t work. Stay away for the next few weeks, give each other space. Run away and let it all smooth over– he’ll forgive you, after all. He always has.

Missa wipes his eyes dry. Gets to his feet again, and looks in the direction Phil left. Maybe his subconscious is right. Maybe it’s just a waiting game. They can be angry at each other here, fight here, kill here, and when they get back to the island it can all go back to normal.

It’s just the stress, Missa tells himself, thinking of their son as he turns back towards the blue team base camp. There are things to do now, fights to be won, challenges to work on. He can think about Phil later. A small fight between couples never killed anyone.

…Right?

[smileysuh]

racer

🌙 staring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You feel like a chew toy caught between two rottweilers, and it kills you to give Jaehyun one last look before turning your back on him, following your brother to his car. Jaehyun is watching you as you get in, and when you close the door, you let out a deep breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “I know, what a killer race,” Johnny grins, starting his engine. “Could have been better though, he could have actually died.”

tw/cw. car crash/injury, Johnny maybe slightly tried to kill Jaehyun, illegal street racing, protected sex, dry humping, blowjob, hand job, pining, praise, slow sex, slight wrist restraint, admitting you love someone while balls deep, sweet dirty talk, hair pulling, etc… I pet names: (hers) Lil Suh, baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.7k

🍭 aus. street racer!Jaehyun, star-crossed lovers, secret relationship, step-brother!Johnny, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I watched the new Fast and Furious movie a few months ago and this is the outcome

For something that’s supposed to be illegal, street races are big events. Under the cover of darkness, with the moon high in the sky, it almost feels like you’re at an outdoor party. The pavement is covered in people, and they part like the red sea as your cars slowly dive through, coming to a stop just near the starting line.

“Chin up, Lil Suh,” you step brother’s best friend says, nudging you while people begin to swarm Johnny’s racing car in front of you. “Nothings going to happen to him.”

No one is as confident in Johnny as Donghyuck is, although, it’s not Johnny you’re worried about.

Things have been coming to a head lately between your stepbrother and his supposed ‘arch nemesis,’ a new racer on the scene by the name of Jeong Jaehyun. The past three street races have been inceasingly dangerous, with the two often battling for first even as they rushed over the finish line. Jaehyun had even beaten your stepbrother two weeks ago, and Johnny hasn’t been able to get over the loss, his first in over a year and a half.

You have knots in your stomach, and a sneaking suspicion that something bad is about to happen. To make matters worse, you have a vested interest in both of the street racers. Johnny is family - even if he’s not blood - but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t care about Jaehyun too.

You hadn’t meant to find yourself in a secret fuck buddy style relationship with a racer, let alone your brother’s nemesis… it had just sort of happened, and now, you’re realizing the true depths of the consequences. 

Getting out of Donghyuck’s car, you watch Johnny move to sit on the hood of his own racer, girls swarming him and running their hands over his fresh paint job. The purple underlights always gained Johnny attention, and they’d been his signature colour… until Jaehyun had arrived onto the scene with a similar aesthetic.

“How many other racers are here?” you ask, tucking close to Donghyuck while he guides you to your brother. 

“I think I saw Taeyong’s car when we drove up,” your brother’s best friend notes, although, with so many people swarming, it’s hard to get a real count just yet. 

Besides, Taeyong’s not who you care about. 

Jaehyun’s always had impeccable timing, too impeccable for your brother’s liking, and a familiar rumble in the periphery draws your attention. The swarm begins to part, and Jaehyun’s car slowly rolls up, coming to a stop right next to Johnny’s.

Your brother’s expression had gone from a smile to a scowl, and he watches his nemesis exit the drivers seat. To Jaehyun’s credit, he always nods at your brother. You’ve never been able to ascertain if it’s out of respect for Johnny’s reputation, or due to Jaehyun being a genuinely nice guy, and the time you spend with Jaehyun is always filled with more pleasurable things than questions of intention. 

The car that pulls up behind Jaehyun’s belongs to his own right hand man, a mechanic by the name of Kim Jungwoo. With shiny bleached white hair, and a smile big enough to light up his entire face, the street puppy always draws attention to himself, even though he’s not a racer. 

Jaehyun might not have the liberty to lock eyes with you, but Jungwoo does, and it’s been clear to you for a while now that he knows about what you and Jaehyun get up to behind closed doors. Jungwoo even has the nerve to flash you a wink before going to join Jaehyun on the hood of his car, and the motion isn’t lost on Donghyuck.

“Hate that dude,” your brother’s best friend says under his breath.

“He seems okay,” you sigh, and it’s the most you can defend the street puppy. 

You notice a small man running around, and he leans close to whisper something in Johnny’s ear. Taeil is one of the organizers, whatever that entails, and you’ve always thought it odd that the quiet, well mannered man would even be a part in any of this, let alone one of the people calling the shots.

“Yo, yo, yo! How we doin tonight?!” A loud voice booms through a few speakers placed along the street, and Mark Lee’s familiar way of speaking draws all eyes as the Canadian moves to stand in the bed of his own flashy green truck while everyone cheers.

He doesn’t race anymore, one bad accident had turned him off of the streets for good, but he’s one of the best announcers you’ve ever witnessed, with a talent for rallying the crowd and getting energy flowing.

“I’m gonna need all the racers to move to the finish line, that means you, Doyoung,” Mark grins, and you’ll never cease to enjoy the beef Mark has with the man with red underlights. 

Taeyong, who had also not been in proper place, begins to roll up to stop next to Johnny, although, he never gets an earful like his friend Doyoung. 

“We’re in for a big race tonight, everyone,” Mark announces. “In pink, we have our very own Mister Lee Taeyong!” The crowd cheers. “And in red, as always, Doyoung Kim- boo!” Mark’s the only one booing, and he’s also butchered Doyoung’s name, which always make the racer’s skin flash the colour of his car. “In purple, we’ve got the man of the evening, the winner of our last race, Jeong Jaehyun!” The crowd roars, and you feel the vibration in your very bones. “And last, but certainly not least, also in purple - you should really trademark that, dude - we have the previously undefeated, the one, the only, Mister John J Suh!” 

If Jaehyun’s cheers had been a roar, Johnny’s are like rolling thunder, and he stands proudly next to his car, waving to his adoring fans before leaning down to enter his vehicle.

“Looks like our guys are eager to get this race started, and they can’t be the only ones, lets hear it for our drivers!” 

The good thing about being in a run down industrial section of the city, is that there are no neighbours to bother with the deafening sounds. You can be as loud as you want, and you cheer along with the crowd, which begins to move away from the cars as their drivers start their engines.

“We’ve all been here before,” Mark says. “We know this track. But for those of you who are new… ask a friend because I will not be explaining the route.” No one has ever called Mark particularly thorough in his announcements, but he’s comical at least, and many people chuckle. 

“So what do you say everyone, should we get this show started?!” 

As the crowd erupts, you notice a familiar shorty rushing up to you. 

“Our usual starting girl is out with a cold, but I know just the substitute,” Mark says in the periphery of your mind, and Taeil shoves a flag into your hand, grabbing your arm to drag you forward. “Lets all give a big round of applause for Johnny’s sister, Lil motherfucking Suh!”

You hate this. You hate it so much. 

This isn’t the first time they’ve made you start the race on short notice, and you’d told them never to make you do it again- but somehow, you find yourself being lifted into the bed of Mark’s truck, Hyuck following close behind you. The vehicle is positioned about fifteen meters in front of the starting line, and once you throw the flag, it will lurch into motion, speeding ahead of the cars and giving those of you in the bed the perfect view of the race.

It can be a dodgy position to be in, as one bump can throw you, Mark, or his posse out of the truck- you’d heard about it happening once.

“What do you say, Lil Suh?” Mark pulls you back to his chest, securing an arm around your waist, the only true anchor you’ll have once this begins. “Are you ready to see some real action?”

He holds the mic in front of you, and you find your gaze shifting to Jaehyun’s car as you take a deep breath. There are certain expectations of a flag girl, and you’re a legacy here. You’ll be damned if you don’t make it a show, even if this was unexpected.

“Tonight, our city's best racers are here to fight for number one,” you announce, before focusing in on the drivers revving their engines, as is custom. “It’s up to you four to prove yourselves. Be fast. Be safe. And no matter what happens, don’t fucking lose! Get ready, racers!” You hold the flag above your head, throwing it into the air as you scream “Go!” 

The truck lurches into action, and Mark pulls you tight against his chest, laughing loudly in your ear as you all speed off down the street track. The wind whips through your hair, and Hyuck’s screaming loudly next to you, one hand in the air while he holds on with the other.

It is exhilarating to be in the truck, to be ahead of the cars struggling for first position. It’s the clearest view of the race- but it’s also not where you wanted to be tonight. Johnny’s already being aggressive in his driving, giving Jaehyun little space, and your stomach turns again. 

The cars are quickly gaining on you, and you feel Mark reach back, smacking his hand on the top of the truck to tell the driver to go faster. You let out a squeal of delight, grabbing onto Hyuck when your vehicle lurches forward again, the driver flooring it while pulling slightly off to the side in preparation for the cars to pass.

Maybe you’re overreacting about this, maybe this race will be okay-

Johnny makes a sudden swerve, clipping Jaehyun’s car despite your secret fuck buddy’s attempt to avoid it. Just like that, Jaehyun is skidding, and your heart stops in your chest. At speeds like this, even a touch can send you spiraling, and that’s exactly what happens to Jaehyun. 

“Fuck!” Mark says loudly beside you, immediately pulling a red flag out of his pocket, and you all wait to see what will happen next-

Doyoung had been right on Jaehyun’s tail, and the sudden speed change has him barreling into Jaehyun’s back, lifting the car and causing it to flip upside down- miraculously, Jaehyun lands back on his tires, but both he and Doyoung clip a shopping cart that had been just to the side of the makeshift track.

Wheels skid loudly, a screeching sound that sets your teeth on edge, and both cars come to a skittering halt on the side of the road, with Jaehyun half up on the sidewalk. 

The truck slows down, but both Johnny and Taeyong go speeding past, obviously intent on finishing the race despite the collision. 

You don’t care about winners, you only care about Jaehyun, and you’re hopping out of the bed of the truck before it’s even at a full stop. 

You stumble on the pavement, but as soon as you’re steady, you take off running. 

The sound of your heart is practically deafening as you run the fifty meters to the crash, and you go right past Doyoung, jumping up onto the curb next to Jaehyun’s car to look inside. “Jae!” you scream.

“Shh, Lil Suh,” he groans, reaching for the door handle. He looks a little roughed up, and his lip is bleeding- “I’m okay,” he tries to assure you, but he’s obviously winded as he stands from the car, leaning on the door while you rush to support him under his other arm. 

“Jae,” you say his name again, hand on his abdomen as you hold him up. 

“That fucking brother of yours!” comes Doyoung’s familiar screaming, as he also exits his car, coming around the front to assess the damages.

“Don’t yell at her,” Jaehyun states, straightening a little even as he leans back against his vehicle.

“Since when were you two so fucking chummy?” Doyoung rages, skin a classic tint of red.

“Woah, woah, woah-” Mark has finally arrived on the scene, and he also side steps Doyoung, coming straight for you and Jaehyun. “Dude, are you okay?!”

Hyuck’s behind Mark, and he’s watching you with narrowed eyes as he moves to stand by the red racer, not saying a word. 

You swallow thickly, knowing you should let go of Jaehyun- that if you continue to support him like this, Hyuck will most definitely mention it to Johnny- but you can’t bring yourself to pull away from the street racer, so you force your gaze from Hyuck.

“He clipped me,” Jaehyun says. “John clipped me.”

“Yeah, he fucked you big time, dude,” Mark agrees, and you hear the approach of cars. 

Within eyeshot of the starting line, the mechanics there must have seen the crash, and you recougnize Yuta and Jungwoo’s cars as they pull to a stop a few feet away.

“Jae!” Jungwoo bellows, running over to replace Mark on Jaehyun’s other side. “Are you alright?!”

“I’m fine,” Jaehyun tries to brush it off, but he winces a little under Jungwoo’s grip.

“Your car is fucked, man,” Yuta muses, walking around Jaehyun’s vehicle and eying the damages. 

“That’s really not what he needs to hear right now,” you shoot at the Japanese mechanic who has no bedside manner whatsoever. He holds his hands up in defeat, stepping back.

“The race didn’t even stop-” Jungwoo breathes.

“Johnny wanted to win,” Doyoung states, crossing his arms over his chest and eying Hyuck. “Your boyfriend did this on purpose.”

“Woah, now,” Hyuck laughs. “I get all the pussy dude- how many times do I have to tell you I’m not dating Johnny-”

The two begin to fight, and you ignore it, helping Jaehyun to Jungwoo’s car. The mechanic does most of the heavy lifting as he supports Jaehyun get into the front seat. Then you turn to walk back to Yuta, lowering your voice. “Can you fix his car?”

“I mean…” Yuta sighs, cocking his head to the side. “Sure, I can fix it.”

“Then fix it,” you state, motioning to the tow truck he’d driven up in. “Take it back to your shop, I don’t want to look at it anymore.”

“Shouldn’t I be dealing with Jae on this?” Yuta eyes you suspiciously. “Since when were you two so close, Lil Suh?”

“Just do it, Yuta.” You reach out to touch his arm gently. “Please.”

Jungwoo arrives behind you. “Tow it to my garage,” he instructs. “If we both work on this, we can have it fixed in no time.”

“We gotta get to the finish line,” Mark announces, already on the way to his truck.

“Yes, we do,” Doyoung agrees, and you can see his hand balled into a fist. 

When you look to Jungwoo’s car, Jaehyun returns your longing gaze, but you know that if you drive with him and his friend, it will be as good as announcing to your brother that your allegiance has changed.

With a deep sigh, you follow Hyuck and Doyoung to Mark’s truck, taking your spot in the bed. 

The finish line is only a short drive away, especially with all your drivers flooring it, and it’s hard not to look at Jaehyun and Jungwoo as they drive behind you.

“What happened back there?” Hyuck asks, pulling you to his chest.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” he says firmly. “You and Jae.”

The words that come out of your mouth next are painful, and they’re only half a lie, “There is no me and Jae.”

Hyuck studies your face. “There better not be.”

Despite the crash that had occured, most of the crowd seems to be in happy spirits as they gather around the finish line. They move out of the way as Mark’s truck pulls up, and he takes out a green flag, ready to declare the winner.

Two cars come barelling around a turn, moving into another long stretch just before the finish. It’s a flash of pink and purple, but there’s a clear victor, and it’s not even much of a battle as Johnny comes racing over the finish line.

Everybody erupts into cheers, everybody except you. You can’t find your voice, you can only clap while Johnny does a victory donut or two before returning to the finish line where the racers are. 

He gets out of his car with a massive grin, and Doyoung hops out of the truck-

Hyuck stops him, holding Doyoung tight while he rages in his arms. “Let me at him!” Doyoung bellows, but your brother’s right hand man knows better than to allow Doyoung to rain on Johnny’s winner parade.

Jaehyun’s right hand man, however, knows no such restraint, and you watch Jaehyun approach your brother, the crowd parting to let him through.

“Fuck, shit, fuck-” Mark cusses next to you, leaping out of the truck while you follow.

“You clipped me,” Jaehyun states, hands balled into a fists at his side.

“That’s part of racing,” Johnny brushes it off.

“Maybe part of your racing,” Jaehyun growls, “But not all of us are suicidal maniacs like you!”

“Every driver is a suicidal maniac, it’s part of the fucking job.” Your brother rolls his eyes.

Then Jaehyun is grabbing the front of Johnny’s shirt, and the taller of the two is looking down at him with a grin. 

Jaehyun is seething. “If I’d had known we could play dirty like that, I would have knocked you on your ass during our last race!” 

Johnny leans closer to the angry racer. “I’d like to see you try.”

Jaehyun pulls his fist back, and you know exactly what he’s about to do. You find yourself jumping between them before you can even think about it, pushing Johnny back. “Jae, don’t.”

His motion stops, and he looks from you to your brother, swallowing thickly. His hand drops to his side, and Johnny lets out a loud laugh. You see the effect it has on Jaehyun, can see his skin reddening with anger. 

You feel horrible about this. About all of it. 

“I’d like to stay and chat,” Johnny says, “but I’ve got an after party to go to. Winners only. Come on, Lil Suh, I’ll take you on a victory lap.”

You feel like a chew toy caught between two rottweilers, and it kills you to give Jaehyun one last look before turning your back on him, following your brother to his car.

Jaehyun is watching you as you get in, and when you close the door, you let out a deep breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“I know, what a killer race,” Johnny grins, starting his engine. “Could have been better though, he could have actually died.”

“Is that what you were aiming for, John?” You grab onto the door handle, digging your nails against it to stop yourself from acting out.

“Not particularly. I saw the opportunity to take two birds out with one stone, so I did.” He assesses you out of the corner of his eye. “That doesn’t bother you, does it, Lil Suh?”

“No,” you lie through gritted teeth as the car speeds off to do a victory lap. “I’m not bothered at all.”

“Good, now sit back, and let me show you why us Suh’s are winners in this city.”

You usually like speeding with your brother, he’s a daring driver, and the way he drifts on sharp turns has always been something that brought you delight. But tonight, you can’t find it in yourself to laugh, even while he rolls down his window to let out a howl of victory into the night air.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you pull it out, skimming the pseudonym contact name you use for Jaehyun. ‘Slip away from the party. Same place as usual. Be there. Please.’

It had been a little difficult to escape both Johnny and Hyuck from the afterparty, with the latter of the two even catching you just as you slipped outside. Hyuck had been smoking, leaning against the wall, and he’d stopped you as you’d rushed past.

“Where are you off to?” He’d asked.

You’d used the only lie you could think of, telling him, “My friend just got dumped, she needs me.”

Hyuck hadn’t asked anymore questions, and now, you’re arriving at the motel you and Jae use as a meeting point. The lobby boy nods at you as you walk past. “He’s in room thirteen.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, tossing him a five dollar bill from your pocket and taking the staircase two at a time to reach the second level. You don’t even bother to knock on Jaehyun’s door, you never do, you simply slip inside, locking it behind you.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, and with his shirt off, you can see the full extent of the crash. His ribcage has a nasty bruise, which is visible under the ice pack he’s holding to his skin, and your heart breaks for him.

“Jae,” you whisper, sinking to your knees in front of him to assess the damage. “You need to go to the hospital-”

“And tell them what?” he sighs. “That I got in a car crash? Come on, we both know that could never work. I’m fine.”

You reach for the ice pack. “There could be internal bleeding-”

“Baby,” he catches your wrist, “I said I’m fine.” 

You look up into his dark eyes, and you take a shuddery breath. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Jaehyun cocks his head to the side, brows furrowing. 

“Everything-” you swallow thickly. “I’m sorry for the crash, and for getting between you and Johnny, and for going to that stupid after party with him-”

“He knows.”

“What?”

“Johnny,” Jaehyun says. “He knows about us.”

“He doesn’t know-” you shake your head.

“He does,” the racer insists. “Everyone knows, especially now. Hyuck will tell him about the way you ran to me after the crash. He’s not stupid. He’s gonna know, baby.”

“No one knows,” you say again, but your voice is a whisper now.

“They all do,” Jaehyun tells you. “They see it in the way we look at each other.”

You stand up, gazing down at the beautiful street racer who you never should have even entertained, let alone slept with- “How do we look at eachother?” 

Jaehyun licks his lips, tugging at your shirt. “Like two people who want to rip eachothers clothes off.”

“Is that all?” you tease, lifting your shirt up and over your head so his hands can make full contact with your waist, pulling you closer.

“Like two people who care about each other,” he clarifies, voice near a whisper. “I told you, everyone saw the way you ran to my car when it flipped-”

“I was worried about you,” you insist.

The beautiful racer smiles. “Are you finally going to admit you’re hopelessly in love with me, Lil Suh?”

You scoff. “You wish, Jeong Jaehyun.”

Before he can give you a snappy comeback, you grab his face, pressing your mouth to his gently. He has a busted lip, and he groans, fingers tightening on your waist to tug you closer.

Your knees find the bed on either side of his hips, and Jaehyun lets out another moan of pain as you lay him down against the mattress.

 “Are you sure we should be fucking while you’re in this condition?” you ask, pressing kisses to his throat.

“We’re not fucking,” he says, applying pressure to  your waist that prompts you to grind down against him, feeling the erection in his pants.

“We’re not?” you laugh. “Then what are we doing?”

“Tonight, as cheesy as this sounds,” Jaehyun sighs, “we’re not fucking, we’re making love. And don’t-” he cuts you off before you can speak. “Don’t try to deny it. We both know there’s something here. Something between us. You might still be too afraid to admit it, but I’m not. Not after that crash.”

Who knew a near death experience would make a street racer so sentimental… but you’re not complaining. 

You look down at Jaehyun, and he stares back. You’re not sure what to say, so you say nothing, instead, you kiss him again, hoping that the motion speaks louder than words.

You’re doing your best to be gentle with him, but Jaehyun has always brought a side out of you that’s anything but gentle. These soft kisses are nice though, and he takes your breath away as easily as ever.

Your hands are on either side of the bed next to his head, and you’re trying not to lean on his bruised chest. The ice pack is pressed between your bodies, and the cold sensation is interesting in contrast to his hot lips and the hands that prompt your hips to continue your grinding against him.

Even while your lower halves are both clothed, it feels good to be rubbing against him, to feel how hard he gets from just a bit of kissing. He’s right that there’s something going on between the two of you, something undeniable.

You care about him, more than you ever thought you would. 

Your hand slips between your bodies and you cup his cock, making him moan. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he whispers, tangling a hand through your hair so he can pull your head slightly to the side, gaining access to your throat.

“I want to take your pants off,” you tell him, already beginning to get frustrated by his jeans. 

“Then take them off,” he says simply. “I’m all yours.”

You sit up, gazing down at your brother’s bruised mortal enemy… and then, you begin to work on his belt. 

He watches you silently, and when you slip to the floor, tugging his clothes off, he lifts his hips to make it easier. 

Usually, things with Jaehyun are somewhat rushed, but tonight, you want to give him all your time and attention. He deserves it - after your brother ran him off the road - and his cock looks so pretty in the shitty motel light.

“You don’t have to-” he begins to tell you, but you cut him off.

“I want to,” your hand finds the base of his cock, and you trace your thumb up the vein that runs along the underside of it. “Just relax for me, Jae. I want this.” 

He lets out a shaky breath, but does as you ask, leaning back against the mattress while you bring your mouth to his cock. You start by licking the tip, and your featherlight touch is enough to have him groaning, grabbing at the bed sheets.

He’s so sensitive with you, and you love it. 

It makes teasing him all the more fun, and you continue your small motions, wrapping your mouth around the head while you stroke his length. You swirl your tongue, suckling and earning more reactions from the pretty, bruised man, who’s completely at your mercy.

“Please,” he groans, and that’s all you need to sink your mouth further onto his cock, bobbing your head gently. 

One of his hands comes down to stroke your hair, and his touch makes you want to please him even more. He’s being as gentle with you as you are with him, and you’re not the one all banged up from a crash.

Your drool is dripping on his length, making it easier to stroke him, and you apply a bit more pressure. Jaehyun gasps, hips twitching, and you close your eyes to enjoy the feeling of pleasuring him.

Your pussy is throbbing between your legs, and after you’re done working him up like this, you can’t wait to ride him. It’s not often that you’re on top with Jae, but if there’s ever a night for it, it’s tonight.

“So good, baby,” Jaehyun moans. “So good for me.”

His praise has you sucking harder on his cock, and he lets out more sounds of pleasure that go straight to your core.

You continue to work him up with your hand, taking as much of him into your mouth as you can while he struggles below you. He’s gripping the sheets, hard, and you can tell it’s taking a lot of willpower for him not to thrust up and meet you- but Jaehyun’s never been the type for making you choke on his cock, and you realize now that maybe he has cared about you all this time.

As rough as he’s been with you in the past, it’s always been because you were begging for it, and even then, he’s kept a gentleness in his actions-

You do love Jeong Jaehyun, and it’s almost comical that you realize it while your mouth is stuffed full of his cock.

You pull off of him, your hand stroking his shaft while you take a breath. “I need you inside of me,” you tell him.

“No more waiting,” he agrees.

You let go of him, standing up and reaching into your back pocket for a condom before taking off your pants and underwear. “Can you move up the bed a little for me, Jae?”

“Yeah,” he shuffles up the mattress, watching you discard your bra. You’re fully naked for him now, and you straddle his legs, tearing open the condom package and rolling the rubber onto his cock.

Then you lean over Jaehyun, kissing him gently, grabbing him with one hand and guiding him to your core. You sink down slowly, and you moan into each others mouths while he tangles his fingers in your hair, keeping your lips on his. 

Actions most definitely speak louder than words, and the kiss is one that has you even more breathless than before. It’s not like any other kisses you’ve shared with the street racer. This one truly means something, and your pussy flutters just thinking about it.

Jaehyun groans, one hand moving to your hip, and you take it as a sign to move. You begin to bounce on him slowly, revelling in the feeling of his cock filling you up just right.

It’s interesting to be on top, to be the one in control, and Jaehyun lets you have free range in your motions. The hand on your hip isn’t insistent, he doesn’t prompt you to go harder or faster-

Maybe the slowness of it, the deliberate movements, are part of what makes this an act of love, not just fucking. 

It’s not hard, or fast, or rough, but it’s still making your toes curl as you ride him, your lips locked in a passionate kiss. “Jae,” you groan, thighs beginning to burn-

He reads you like the back of his hand, and in one motion, he’s rolling you onto your back. Jaehyun lets out a small wince, and you immediately double check him, cupping his face while he slides the ice pack onto the bed next to you. “Maybe I should stay on top-”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I’m okay. It’s my turn to want something.”

“Yeah?” you smile up at him. “And what is it that you want?” 

“I want to make you feel good,” he says, leaning down to kiss your throat, his noze nuzzling your skin. “Want to take care of you. Want to make you cum.”

You whimper at his words, gently wrapping your legs around his hips while he begins to thrust into you. 

“Put your hands above your head for me, baby,” he instructs.

You follow through, and he captures your wrists against his palm, pinning them to the bed. 

For someone who’s just been in a crash, his motions are still quite fluid and rhythmic. His lips continue against your neck, and you gasp when he suckles on your sweet spot.

“If-” you swallow thickly, “If it hurts, let me know.”

“Oh, baby,” Jaehyun smiles against your skin, “Love always hurts. I’m not going to start complaining about it now.”

The word ‘love’ makes you tingle with emotion, and you gasp as he begins to fuck you harder, pressing you against the bed. 

“Can you rub your clit for me, baby? Your mouth felt so good, and I don’t think I can last that much longer,” he admits. 

He lets go of your wrists and without a word of protest, you slip your hand between your bodies, seeking out your most sensitive spot. You release a loud groan at the contact, pussy clenching around his cock, which earns a moan from the man above you.

“Jae,” you whisper, loving the taste of his name on your lips. “You’re so good to me-”

“You deserve it,” he assures you, a hand coming down to your hip, pinning you exactly where he wants you while you work yourselves closer and closer to the edge. 

He’s fucking you harder now, but it still feels like making love, and your free hand reaches to tangle in his hair, pulling him from your throat so you can feel his lips on yours again.

You love the way you’re both moaning freely now, and his sounds only add to your pleasure. 

“I’m close,” you tell him, dragging your tongue across his lip and earning a loud groan. 

“Me too,” he breathes heavily. “You feel so good-”

“Just what the doctor ordered,” you joke, and Jaehyun lets out a small laugh.

“Exactly,” he agrees. “Sex with the love of your life daily, for a week, think you can handle that?”

“Jae,” you whisper. “I’m the love of your life?”

“I’d like to think so.” 

He’s being so soft, so vulnerable, and you wonder how long he’s been thinking about this. 

In your relationships, you’ve always been the first one to say ‘I love you,’ the first one to be in your feels- and now you know what it’s like to be on the other side of that. He’s confident in you, confident in your connection, and it makes your heart swell in your chest.

“I love you too,” you confess, and it feels so right- none of your other love confessions in life have ever felt like this, and you know it must be true.

Jaehyun groans loudly. “I’m gonna cum, baby, you really know how to sweet talk a guy-”

“I’m gonna cum too,” you tell him, gasping against his lips while you rub your clit harder. 

“Cum with me, baby,” Jaehyun says softly, kissing you while you both reach your highs.

Your pussy clenches tightly around his cock, and you moan loudly together, tongues dancing while your bodies move fluidly, like they were made to move. 

Nothing has ever felt this natural, and your orgasm is all consuming because of it.

Your entire body is tingling with emotion and pleasure, and you can feel that the racer has goosebumps, letting out a small shiver while he fucks you through it. 

It’s as if he’s the very air you need to breathe, and you’ve been deprived for so long- there’s a clarity with him, and everything is all the more intense because of it.

Jaehyun groans as you both come down from your highs, and his motions slowly come to a stop, until he’s simply laying on top of you, lips still pressed to your own.

You kiss for a while more, fingers moving away from your clit so you can tangle both hands in his soft hair, keeping him where he is.

“Stay here tonight,” Jaehyun whispers, pulling away from you to look down at your face.

“Stay here?” you repeat.

“Yeah, stay with me. Please.”

You’ve never slept over with him, never passed out after sex in his arms-

“Okay,” you nod.

“I’m just going to get rid of this condom, and then we can cuddle or something,” he says, in a way that’s almost shy. 

You watch him, endeared as he disposes the condom and returns to join you, slipping under the covers and holding out his arms expectantly. You move closer, careful about his injured ribs, and you rest your head against his shoulder while he pets your hair.

“I’m going to tell Johnny,” you say. 

“Really?” 

“Uh huh,” you nod, feeling very confident with your decision. “You just told me you think I’m the love of your life, Jae. We’ve already been hiding this for months, and I don’t want to hide anymore.”

“I don’t want to hide either,” he agrees. 

“So it’s settled,” you smile. “I’ll tell Johnny, and he’ll just have to deal with it.”

“I can’t believe we’re finally doing this,” Jaehyun admits. “I thought about it so many times, but I always figured you’d want to keep it a secret from your brother. That guy has some anger issues.”

“Says the dude that tried to punch him today.”

“After he hit me with his car,” Jaehyun points out.

“You have me there,” you concede with a laugh. 

“I love you, Lil Suh,” he says suddenly, and it makes you hold him tighter, tucking your face against his shoulder.

“I love you too…” you put on your Mark’s announcer voice, “the man of the evening, the winner of the last race-”

“I lost the last race,” Jaehyun points out.

“Not to me,” you tell him. “Tonight, I think we’re both winners.”

Jaehyun laughs. “You have me there.” 

Johnny stares at you in shock. “Sorry, I must have heard you wrong,” he laughs finally, “it just sounded like you told me you’re dating my arch nemesis.”

“Do I have to say it again?” you sigh.

Your brother’s smile drops. “You can’t be serious, Lil Suh.”

“I am though,” you say firmly. “I’m dating Jeong Jaehyun.”

“Don’t you know how dangerous it is to date street racers?” Johnny stands up abruptly. “They die all the time!”

“Not if you stop trying to kill him!” you shoot back. “Jeez, John, you act as if you’ve never had a girlfriend yourself.”

“I don’t date street racers,” Johnny says, refusing to see the parallel. 

“You know, all things considered,” you sigh, “you’re taking this much better than I thought you would.”

“Hyuck warned me this was going on,” Johnny cocks his head to the side. “Said you were the first person rushing to help Jae after the crash. I guess I’ve been processing it all weekend.”

“So you’re okay with me dating your supposed mortal enemy?” 

“I never said I’m okay with it,” Johnny points out. “Look, do I hate the guy? Yes. Is that hate founded on jealousy that he might one day be better than me in a car? Also yes. I just figure, if you’re dating him, you can convince him to get Yuta to change his underlights so they’re not purple anymore.”

“So that’s it?” you ask in shock. “That’s your condition in him dating me? That he changes his light colour?!”

“We all know purple is my aesthetic.” 

“Done, I’ll let him know right away.”

“You think he’s actually gonna change the colour?”

“Of course he’s going to change the colour, this guy loves me, Johnny-”

Your brother blinks at you. “He does?”

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly.

“And you love him?”

You nod again, looking down.

“Then I’m happy for you, Lil Suh.” Johnny reaches out, setting a hand on your shoulder. “Just promise not to bring any Lil Jeong’s into the world anytime soon, yeah?”

You find yourself laughing, shaking your head at your stupid older brother. “I promise.”

“Good, because if he knocked you up, I’d really start to have problems, even if he does change his car colours.” Johnny assesses you. “You remember what mom always said about condoms-”

“Oh my god!” you scream. “Yes, Johnny! We’re being safe! Holy shit- this conversation is so over-”

“I wouldn’t be doing my brotherly duties if I didn’t make you grossed out. Think of me making that condom comment every time you sleep with him.” 

You’re quick to rush from the room, yelling back, “That doesn’t make things any better!” But you can’t help the smile on your face- you can’t believe that he’s okay with this, that he didn’t punch a hole through a wall-

You think about what Johnny had said, about the jealousy of another driver who could take him on.

Maybe after all of this, they might even be friends. Or, maybe more likely, you’ve simply watched too many Fast and Furious movies. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! There's just something about this Jae- I had so much fun writing this fic

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🔮 preview. Jaehyun presses one last kiss to your lips, grinning all the while. Then, when he pulls back, he flattens his hand over your mouth. “If you need me to let up,” he says, leaning forward so he can drag his tongue over the shell of your ear, “just lick my hand. Got it baby?” You nod, already enjoying the feeling of being held down with a hand over your mouth. You really can’t believe you’re doing this in your childhood bedroom with your stepmom sleeping just down the hall- But at the same time, if there was ever a man who would convince you to fuck inhibition and do this, it would be Jaehyun. He just has a hold over you, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

cw/ tw. Unprotected/raw sex, sex while her mom sleeps down the hall, inklings of impreg/cum/being full kink, hand over her mouth, pussy/cock touching, praise, orgasm countdown, mutual orgasm, dry humping, aftercare, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby, angel.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.3k I teaser wc. 270

🌙 staring. Jaehyun x afab!reader

bonus

It’s the first time Jaehyun is meeting your extended family, at a summer barbecue, and so far, the conversation has stuck to general things like steak preferences and beef versus chicken. However, as you all take your seats at the long outdoor food table, your stepmom finally addresses your boyfriend. 

“So I hear you street race like Johnny,” she muses.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jaehyun nods respectfully. “It’s actually how I met your daughter.”

“I guess good things do come out of it then,” your mom sighs, leaning back in her chair, “and please, call me Myoryon or Mama Suh.” She assesses the way Jaehyun sits close to you, his hand holding yours on top of the table. “You two look good together.”

“Thank you, Mama Suh.” Jaehyun smiles softly. 

“She looks happy,” your stepmother continues. “I’ve never seen her happy like this.”

“Then I guess I’m doing my job right,” Jaehyun gives your hand a small squeeze and Johnny lets out a puking sound.

“I’m going to lose my appetite,” your stepbrother warns.

“I already have,” Hyuck nods, pushing his food away. “Not that your cooking isn’t amazing, Mama Suh.”

“It’s alright,” your mom assures him. “I understand jealousy can upset anyone’s stomach.”

“Jealousy?!” Hyuck bellows, and Johnny lets out a loud laugh.

“When was the last time you brought a girl over?” Mama Suh questions, smiling softly even while digging into your brother’s best friend.

Hyuck sputters, tongue tied.

“And how about you, Johnny?” She turns her gaze to him. “If I remember correctly, you’ve called a few times about some arch nemesis being a better driver than you- I assume this arch nemesis is Jaehyun.”

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[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-Twenty One

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: This entire chapter will be in Angel's POV! Hence the gif! Now before any of y'all ask, no! This isn't a love triangle chapter. Its about a girl who meets someone that has gone through the same thing she has and they have a moment together where they help each other over come those evil parts of their pasts (Platonically) Two people finding their "friendship" soulmates, if ya will.

FUCK YOU. EAT SHIT. KILL GOD. DETHRONE.

We are Fallenvvitch. Goodnight.

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967 @halloweenaesthetic @collapsedglasshouses

READER

I sat on my bed with the notebook perched on my lap with papers and discarded pens all over my bedroom. Salem curled up on my pillow next to me, his purring an eerily calm background noise as it combined with the scratching of my pen on paper. 

“I know it’s colder where I’m at,” I muttered in a soft tune. 

Ew, no not that. 

I scratched through the words with such force it ripped through the paper. 

“Fuck,” I cursed while tossing the book onto the floor then rubbed ink-stained hands over my face. 

I went through four different pens by now and changed the paper from my spiral notebook to printer paper. I had been held up in my room all night writing, not wanting to be bothered. With our tour starting in a few days, we needed to leave tomorrow which meant I spent most of my day and afternoon packing and getting things in order. 

For the last few days, Hollow Souls had been working tirelessly to practice our setlist and make sure all of our visuals were spot on. It was our first tour of just the three of us and my nerves were taking over every aspect of my life. I couldn’t even enjoy the fact that I was about to spend the next two weeks with my favorite artist. 

nothing, nowhere. 

Joe’s music had been a huge part of my healing process for years so when he reached out with the idea of opening up for Hollow Souls, immediately we agreed. Even though the nerves were still there, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I couldn’t count how many times I picked up my phone, wanting to text Noah, but always backed out. I told him I needed some time, truthfully I think I needed it to remind myself I could be my own person and succeed with this band for a little while. 

Maybe I needed to prove to myself that I was able to take the lead of this band without anyone pointing the finger, thinking it was someone else behind the curtain. There wasn’t someone else. It was me.

My heart began to stutter in my chest, blood running cold, so I took a deep breath while counting to four; exactly like Dr. Poulos told me to do. Soon, I felt heat spread within me as the image of Noah danced behind my eyelids. I missed him and yearned for his presence. My stomach was in knots since the second I left his house a few days ago. 

“I know it’s warmer where you are,” my eyes snapped open as the words fell from my lips. 

Fuck, that's good. 

We confessed, we told the truth. A weight was lifted off me. Noah loves me. 

He fucking loves me back. 

“I know it’s warmer where you are, and it’s safer by your side,” I sang while quickly writing it down on a fresh piece of paper.  “Right now I can’t be what you want, just give it time.”  

I began to ache at times, my stomach was sore, and my head would pound. It was often like this that I began to think I’d caught a cold. I wasn’t- it was just me feeling empty. I knew whatever this moment of self-reflection was, it was worth it. I love Noah and he loved me back.

We’d be together; soon. I had to believe that. I knew in my gut. I trusted it but I hope he trusted me.

“Cause if you and I can make it through the night,” my voice was loud now as I felt comfortable with how the lyrics were now pouring out of me. 

But there was this nagging feeling inside of me that I couldn't ignore. We last texted each other at 10 p.m. that night saying we loved each other. The invisible string that always seemed to connect us was urging me to text him. This was something else I couldn’t ignore. 

It was important to me that with this new love, the love for Noah, we have made the effort to fully heal first so we do the inner work that is required to become a whole person once more. All born into our era, our family, our body. We can only be ourselves and accountable for ourselves. He needed to know I loved him, and that I’d come to him. 

Was it selfish of me to walk away after we confessed our love? I wasn’t sure. I just knew it was important for us both to grow from our experiences. So be that rare kind of true love and this bond will be eternal. That I promise him.

With a deep breath, I shifted my attention to my phone and decided to send the message before I doubted myself again. 

Me: I love you, mochi. 

Before I could even set my phone down, it buzzed in my hand with a new message. 

Mochi 🍡: I love you, angel.

The crushing weight that I felt gripping around my heart lifted as I read Noah’s message over and over again. Although we were apart for the time being, we would be alright because we loved each other. I lay here in deep thought and my mind wandered back to my primal need for intimacy.  There is that feeling of maturity, the admittance of being in love with Noah. It arrived without fanfare. Our souls were humble travelers and I could feel the bruise begin to form on my shoulder, so desperate to feel him again.

Salem rubbed his head against my arm and I brought him into my chest, peppering his face in kisses. 

“We can meet in the middle, body and souls collide. Dance in the moonlight,” I muttered to myself. 

Noah and I have a long road together, and it’s one I wanted to last. 

A knock sounded on my door before it opened slowly, Chase's stern smile on his lips. 

Uh oh. 

He leaned against the door frame. "Sweets, I love you. You know I do. But you're fucking killing me with the paint on the carpet in the dining room." 

I knew it. 

"I'm sorry! I know, I know.” I nodded with a long sigh. “It's just the lighting in my bedroom sucks compared to the light in the dining room. I'll put down a drop next time."

Malcolm came into my room, laying a kiss on Chase’s cheek before falling onto the end of my bed somehow missing the mess I created with my writing. 

“Don’t be so hard on her, Chase,” Malcolm said before motioning to my bed. “How’s the writing going?” 

I shrugged. “It’s going, I guess. I think my mind is so preoccupied with the next few weeks that it’s hard to focus.” 

“Excited?” Chase questioned. 

“Excited?” I scoffed. “I’m fucking ecstatic. In less than twenty-four hours I’m going to meet one of my idols and tour with him for two weeks.” 

Malcolm spoke next. “Feeling confident with the setlist?” 

“Yeah! I think we’ve got a good amount of songs and I’m stoked to perform Eyelids live. I think it will be a great way to tease the new album.” 

I’d been very apprehensive to put one of the newer songs on the set list only because some fans weren’t supportive of Eyelids or St. Patrick when they first came out. But Hollow Souls were evolving into a new era and we couldn’t continue to be stuck in the past. 

“Ethan said the bus will be here to pick us up by noon tomorrow,” Chase informed. “Are you all packed and ready?” 

I pointed to the three suitcases at the other end of my room but as Salem jumped off my lap to go lay with Malcolm, I realized something important. 

"Oh, shit. I forgot to see if someone can take care of Salem,” I chastised myself. 

I didn’t miss the glance the two of them shared and raised a brow as Malcolm spoke up.  "Already taken care of."

“You asked Noah, didn’t you?” I couldn’t help the smile that crept on my face. 

“Maybe,” he shrugged while giving Salem some belly rubs. 

Chase rolled his eyes before pushing himself off the door frame and sitting next to Malcolm. “Of course we did. Who else would you ask?” 

“I could have asked Jolly or Jesse. I didn’t want to put this on Noah,” I admitted with a shaky breath. 

“Well, he’s basically Salem’s dad now,” 

“Malcom!” I smacked his shoulder. 

“I’m just saying,” he chuckled while rubbing his arm. 

“We’re not official yet, guys,” I ran a hand through my hair before pulling my knees to my chest. “Please don’t do that.” 

“No way,” Chase shook his hand as Malcolm rested a hand on his thigh. “We’re not doing that. You need to think of the positives. You two said you love each other. Soon you will find your way back to one another.” 

“I love your optimism,” I said while playfully rolling my eyes. 

“Hey, smart ass. We know these things,” Malcolm snorted while still playing with Salem. 

“You do, huh? Do you have connections to the other side?” I teased. 

“We were watching a show last week about alternate universes and shit. It made me think that maybe there’s more of us out there, ya know?” he squeezed Chase’s knee. “Who the hell knows, maybe you and Noah fucked one night, magically fell in love, and went on the road with him. By the end of it, you moved into an apartment that’s right across the street from his house because you couldn’t fathom being away from him,” Chase spoke with a smirk.

My face reddened as I shifted my gaze downwards. “Wow, that’s-uh-you really thought about that.”

Malcolm laughed. “Or what if in another life, Noah walked through literal flames for you.” 

I snorted at that thought because there was no way Noah would risk his life to walk through a fire to save my life, even if I was hanging from a building. 

“Now you’re talking about shit people read in romance novels. Did my long-lost brother start the fire as well?” 

Malcolm narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m just saying, the two of you will find your way. We’re proud of you and how far you’ve come. You and Noah will grow together.”  

My heart jumped in my throat at how sincere Malcolm sounded and the way Chase’s eyes danced as he stared at me. 

“Thank you guys. That means a lot to me,” I smiled. 

“Always sweets, always,” Chase kissed my forehead. “You’re the miracle Noah needed, you know?” 

“I think he was the miracle I needed as well,” I admitted. 

READER

“Wow, Dallas. You are all such beautiful souls tonight. I cannot express our gratitude for all the support we’ve been getting this tour. We’re only four shows in and we’re having the best fucking time. Thank you,” I smiled into the microphone while tucking a long strand of blonde hair behind my ear. 

The crowd cheered wildly as Chase pounded the foot pedal of his drum, the beat making my heart thump hard in my chest. It was night four of the tour and even though it was straight show after show and I was exhausted, I let the energy from the crowd up me hype to finish tonight strong. 

The support of this tour had been fucking outstanding. Every show was sold out and we even had to move our last show into a bigger arena due to high demand. The three of us were so unbelievably proud of the direction we were headed and we didn’t want to look back. 

“Before we play our last song, I think we need to show our opener some love!” I said into the microphone. 

The crowd clapped and screamed but I frowned while shifting my weight on one foot while shaking my head. 

“That’s pretty weak. I want the fucking roof to blow off of here. Let’s hear it for nothing, nowhere!” 

Chase and Malcolm played an in-sync beat as the crowd screamed, cheered, clapped, and jumped up and down. 

“That’s better.” I nodded with a smile while adjusting my guitar. “Not many know this but I’m such a huge fan of nothing, nowhere so to be here touring with him has me fangirling pretty hard right now.” 

I peered over to the side stage where Joe was leaning, watching our set with a smile. We met a few days ago and even though I did my best to keep my composure, I was a giddy girl on the inside. He and Malcolm had a lot in common which made them click almost immediately which made tour life easy for all of us. 

“So,” I cleared my throat while staring back out toward the crowd. “Our final song is a new one and I’m so excited to perform it in front of all of you. Our new album White Noise will be released in a few months. It’s different than our first three but we promise that it’ll be worth it.” 

As the crowd clapped and cheered, I smiled. “My friends, thank you. This song is   called Eyelids.” 

As we began the song over the loud cheers of excitement, I let my eyes flutter shut as yet again, memories of mine and Noah’s night flashed in my mind. 

"Noah," I breathed while breaking apart from the kiss.

He buried his face into the crook of my neck to breathe me in. "Say it again."

I did, over and over like a mantra, as he left a mark on the skin of my neck while his hand switched to the other breast, mimicking his actions from before. The wetness that pooled between my legs was almost a new feeling, never been this turned on.

With one touch I could have sworn he entered my soul. As if my body was his key. He entered me and it fit, pun not intended. Not a thing of metal nor gold, Yet a sensation of love that came.

"I want to hear you," he left a gentle bit on the inside of my thigh

I used the small break-in lyrics to let out a deep breath, doing my best to remain centered so I could finish the rest of the song strong

Noah was in every aspect of my mind, no matter how hard I tried to focus on the song. 

His fingertips, his eyes, his lips on every inch of skin, or the way Noah steadied our breaths. “Breathe through it with me.” 

I did as he said, both of us breathing out my orgasm as our eyes locked intently with each other. I writhed against him, my arousal soaking the condom and parts of his hips. It was such a simple action but the way it set my body on fire intensified the aftershocks to something I'd never experienced. Noah stared down to the place where we met and with a noisy moan, he wrapped an arm tighter around me to pull me flush against his chest as his hips stilled for a second before he emptied himself inside the condom.

Through his sweet words and the resolution of my survival self to never let anyone else sit at my core. He was already there.

As the song ended and I thanked the crowd with a bow, I thought how relieved I was to discover my pure self. That this with Noah could be real love. There was no temptation to change because it was our real selves that bonded us. It is our real selves that each other loves.

That night, I walked away from him without listening to his pleas but now, we were different. We had grown together, for each other.  

Tonight, I vowed then and there under the bright lights of this stage that I’d stay.

I would always stay with Noah. 

“Kick ass show tonight, guys!” Joe cheered while giving us a round of high-fives. 

I smirked while whipping out my phone. “Thanks, Joe! Give me a few minutes and we can head to karaoke.” 

Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Whose time zone is it tonight?” 

“Mine” I smirked into my phone while I quickly typed out a message. 

 Me: I love you, mochi.

“Oh,” a hand with a rose tattoo waved in front of my face. “Who has you smiling like that?” 

Playfully narrowing my eyes at Joe, I stuck out my tongue at him. “Someone is nosy.” 

Just then a new message popped up and my heart fluttered when I saw Noah’s response. It was the same response for the last week but every time, my smile spread wide on my face. 

Mochi 🍡: I love you too, angel.

When I went to put my phone back into my pocket, it vibrated with a new message, this time it was a video from Noah of Salem lying on a couch, one I hadn’t seen before. 

“Salem, say hi to your mom. She misses you,” Noah’s voice came from the background. 

I broke out in an even bigger smile and giggled when my cat did not move, didn't even bat an eye as Noah scratched behind his ears. But the music playing in the background suddenly caught my attention. 

The lyrics sounded so familiar. 

“Gave you way too many chances but it wasn't enough.” 

I replayed the video a few more times to make sure. 

“No way,” I muttered, not paying attention to the conversation behind me with Joe, Malcolm, and Chase. 

I quickly sent a text to Noah. 

Me: Hi Salem baby! Mom misses you! Also, I hear something in the background. Is it..?

Mochi 🍡: He’s napping. He had a long day of playing outside. 

My brow peaked. 

Me: You took him outside?

Mochi 🍡: Don’t worry, angel. We had him on a harness and leash. He loved laying in the sun on the back patio. 

“Sweets, let’s go!” Chase called from behind. “The karaoke place closes in like an hour!” 

I waved him off before texting Noah back. 

Me: I trust you with him, Noah. But what’s that playing in the background of your video? 

He responded with another video and when his face graced my screen, my heart jumped into my throat. 

Fuck. Me. 

Mochi 🍡: I can’t wait for you to hear the final version. 

“Well, who’s that?” 

Joe peered over my shoulder causing me to jump slightly while clutching the phone close to my chest. 

“Geez, can’t a girl get some privacy?” I asked with flushed cheeks. 

The image of Noah in that video played in my mind on a fucking loop and I suddenly did not want to go out with the guys tonight. 

Joe raised a brow. “Oh, that’s him?” 

Malcolm looked between Joe and me, noticing how red my face was. “What the hell did Noah send you?” 

“No-nothing. Just a video of Salem,” I stammered at first but was quick to recover.  

Chase’s mouth parted to speak but soon his eyes turned dark, jaw clenching as he stared past me. 

“What’s wr-,” I didn’t get a chance to ask because an all too familiar voice crept deep into my bones, ripping me apart from the inside out.

“You still have that fucking cat?” 

My heart sunk low to the depths of my stomach and I let my eyes flutter shut, all the breath leaving my lungs. 

No. No. No. Please, not here. Not now.

“He can’t be,” I shook my head while keeping my eyes trained hard on Chase, doing my best to stay centered. 

Do as Dr. Poulos says; deep breath in for three seconds, long breath out for four seconds.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Malcolm spat while stepping in front of me. 

“I needed to come to check out the new Hollow Souls,” the deep voice chuckled darkly. 

I didn’t miss the venom in his words. 

But I never turned around, simply kept my gaze straight on Chase who still refused to look at me; his own hard gaze was trained on the man behind me. Joe noticed the sudden tension and rested a gentle hand on my elbow. 

“Y/N?” His words were white noise. 

I’m imagining this. He’s not here right now. There’s no way. 

“You looked good on that stage, baby. Although, I bet you’d look even better in the back of it.” 

No. No. No. 

A sharp whistle. “I know you hear me.” 

“What the hell are you doing here? Why are you here?” Chase’s voice was thick with anger. 

The voice that I spent so many days in therapy talking about let out a low scoff. 

“What? I came to see my protégé.” 

Malcolm pushed me towards Joe. “Can you take her back to our bus? We’ll be there soon.” 

I shook my head feverishly with tears brimming in my eyes, my back still to the one I refused to look at. 

“No. It’s not worth it. Please guys,” I begged while Joe wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Please come with me.” 

Chase’s eyes softened when he finally peered down at me. “It’ll be okay, sweets. We’re just going to talk; promise.” 

“Come on,” Joe urged my frozen state a few steps. 

Until that darkness pulled me back into the place I spent many days dragging myself out of. 

“Oh, it seems as if you’re back to your old ways. Fucking the opening act, huh? How does good ‘ol Noah feel about that?” Trey did the jerking-off gesture at Noah’s name.

“FUCK YOU!” I screamed as I spun on my heels, Joe’s arm falling away from me. “Don’t you dare say his name. You haven’t earned the right to talk about him!” 

Those cold eyes that I swore at one point I’d have a future with bore into my soul as he ran a hand through the curly locks on his head. Trey smirked wickedly at me. 

“I should call him up. Better yet,” He stuck a cigarette on his lips. “Maybe I’ll send him the video I took of you two ogling each other while you were on stage.” 

I took a step towards Trey but Malcolm held out his arm to stop me, only for me to push it away. 

“Go ahead! You have absolutely no fucking idea what you’re talking about. We should have had you fucking blacklisted,” my upper lip curled, barring my teeth. 

“Good luck, baby. My name gets me places, I can’t help it. Plus, I needed to come see my protege. Since I fucking made you,” Trey twirled his hand towards me with a snide smirk. 

“MADE ME?!” My eyes doubled as my voice roared through the dwindling venue as fans slowly took their time leaving. 

The stagehands and crew members paused their work to watch my outburst. 

I took a deep breath to center myself again, not wanting to create a scene right now when there were still so many prying eyes.  “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed the show. We’re doing fine without you.” 

Turning my back to him yet again, I allowed Joe to lead me away with a hand ghosting over my lower back; until Trey’s voice stopped me. 

“You’re so broken you don’t even trust yourself.”  

“Y/N,” Joe’s voice was soft as he shook his head. “It’s not worth it. Come-.” 

“Excuse me?!” I turned swiftly on my heels, hair whipping over my shoulder. 

Trey shrugged while reaching for a strand of my hair, twirling it between his fingers. “You heard me.” 

I smacked his hand away, the noise echoing loudly backstage. “No. No, I don’t think I did. Say it again.” 

“You’re broken.” Now his hands were in his pocket, a lit cigarette hanging loosely on his lips. “That uh- that new song? That's about him, isn’t it? Where is he?”

Trey made a show of looking around backstage. “I don’t see him anywhere. Oh, let me guess. You demolished it right? ‘Cause we all know you can’t have a perfect thing without doing that.” 

My hands curled at my side, knuckles turning white from how hard my nails dug crescent moon shapes into my palm.  

“You don’t know a fucking thing about me, Trey! You never did and you don’t know a fucking thing about Noah, okay?”

“I don’t need to. I know enough,” Trey blew the smoke towards Malcolm. 

Before he could take a step towards him, Chase wrapped an arm around his chest to pull him away. 

“You know he has asthma, you piece of shit!” I pushed Trey hard in the chest. “No. No! No! You’re not going to do this.” 

“Do what? We both get off on hurting other people,” Trey snickered while taking a step toward me. “I tell you the fucking truth. You’re on the stage singing your pretty little lullabies and maladaptive daydreams because I let you! And you know what else? That little Sykes wanna be?” 

When he made the gesture of sucking a dick, I nearly gagged in my mouth at how disgusting and vulgar Trey actually was. 

Anger filled my veins as he continued to spew his venom. Every single thing Trey said was meant for one thing; to hurt and destroy. He’d spent years perfecting it and before, I’d swim in it. 

Now? Now I was different and I wasn’t afraid of standing up to him. 

“No! Shut the fuck up!” I ran a wild hand through my hair before pointing a finger at him. “You were such a poison that I should have avoided. Every single part of you. I thought you wanted to save me but in the end, all you did was break me!” 

Tears fell from my eyes and I was quick to wipe them away. I refused to cry in front of everyone; especially Trey. He didn’t get the privilege to break me. Not again. 

“How dare you reach out your hand? You said you loved me but acted like you hated me,” I choked on a sob. “I should have run but I didn’t.” 

Trey flicked the ashes on the ground at my feet with a fake pout on his lips but before he could say anything I pointed another finger into his chest causing him to stumble back.

“No! I have to get this off my chest! There’s more shit I have to say!” 

I could feel the proud smiles of Chase, Malcolm, and even Joe as they all flanked behind me. Not stepping in but still wanting to be close in case they needed to. 

“You’re not half the man you think you are! You’re not! You’re abusive, an addict, and I hated the way you would make me feel. Everything I did was under a constant microscope with you.” 

I began to list things on my fingers. “I couldn’t dress the way I wanted. I couldn’t talk to who I wanted. I couldn’t even fucking talk about things that I enjoyed because if it didn’t involve you, it wasn’t important. In the beginning, you needed to know my every single fucking move. But the one night you went out with your friends and I asked where you were going, you thought it would be funny to choke me!” 

“What the fuck?!” Chase roared while stepping up next to me. 

I placed a hand on his chest but kept my eyes on Trey. “I’ve outgrown you, I fell out of every trace of love and respect for you, Trey. I’ve moved fucking past you. Yes, in the beginning, I thought that maybe there might have been a chance for us. But you found yourself on drugs and nicotine. A hollow body like a figurine and I always felt like an accessory.” 

Joe turned his head towards me with a small smile on his lips. 

“Looking back now, I can see it. You always tried to put me in the background. I wasted so much fucking time on you and you wasted so much Hollow Souls time. You held us back for so long because you thought you knew what was best for us.”

A muscle in Trey’s jaw ticked. “I fucking made you. I made this band.” 

I rolled my eyes while crossing my arms over my chest. “Oh, please. Everyone knows that Hollow Souls was my idea. I was the one who asked Chase and Malcolm to join. I wrote the songs. I wanted to produce our songs but you immediately shot that idea down claiming it was too much work and not worth it.” 

Thankfully, it was long after our show ended and the main part of the venue had cleared out but there were still workers backstage as they tore down our equipment. They acted like they weren’t listening to our fight but I knew that with the glances our way every so often, they heard everything. 

“You always wanted to change shit that didn’t need to be changed,” he snarled. 

I held my arms out wide. “And look where I’m at? Every show on this tour is sold out. We had to upgrade to a bigger venue because of high demand.” 

“What?” Trey tossed his cigarette to the ground. “Do you want a fucking medal for that?” 

I stepped on the bud of the cigarette, stepping right up into Trey’s space. “You fucked with my head knowing that I couldn't take it and for that, I can't forgive you. I’ll never forgive you.” 

Chase waved over security as my final words relieved the weight that I didn’t know was on my shoulders. I thought that the last time I saw Trey I wouldn’t need to say my peace but saying it now, I felt as if I could breathe easier. 

“I don’t need you to forgive me, Y/N.” He scoffed. “Noah will never love you and that you won’t blame me for.” 

My lips twitched in a smile as I breathed through the last of my stray tears. “You’re wrong, Trey. He does love me, and I love him. You won’t disturb my peace anymore, never again. I’m moving on, and I’m happy. You should be sad, and truly I feel sorry for you.” 

I took a step back to stand in between Chase and Malcolm just as security snuck up behind Trey. 

“I hope you choke in your sleep while you're dreaming of me. I fucking hope when you suffocate in your sheets that I'll be the last thing you see. Goodbye, Trey,” 

My hands shook at my side, something that Joe noticed so he gave them a reassuring squeeze. 

One of the security guards grasped Trey’s elbow to drag him out but he ripped it from the guy's grasp. Trey eyed all four of us, his gaze lingering on me a few seconds longer than the others before he spat on the ground at my feet. 

The old me would have let that bother her. But the new me simply smirked as I watched security escort Trey out of the building. 

Ethan came up to us in haste as he looked back towards Trey. “What the fuck was he doing here?!” 

Malcolm made sure that Trey was out of sight then turned towards Ethan, pointing a stern finger at him. “Do whatever you can to get that piece of shit blacklisted from any Hollow Souls shows in the future.” 

“Bad Omens too,” I nodded firmly. 

Chase cupped my cheek. “Sweet, are you alright?” 

Through tears, I nodded. “I’m okay. I didn’t realize how badly I needed that.”

“How do you feel?” He had a faint smile on his lips.

I gnawed on my bottom lip, really thinking about Chase’s question. 

Relief. 

This felt like a new wave of freedom. Something I’ve yet to experience in a long while. A new form. 

I looked back at my new friend and then at my brothers; my family.  Those who bring a sense of love into my life. We can make choices to care for the self and still be kind. I had so much to say to him. It felt good to release it- yet; still I killed him with kindness. Something he’d never dare show me.

You can care better for others from strength than weakness. 

At the expense of my own comfort. It’s a prudence with integrity that awaits the right moment to be brave. I felt brave. 

I was ready for my new beginnings.

Joe motioned behind me. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your bus.” 

While Malcolm and Chase hung back to talk more with Ethan about what happened I allowed Joe to lead me outside. The cool night air danced around me with a comforting touch and I let it ease my heated skin. As I made the walk towards where the bus was, Joe had other plans and dragged me to a bench at the back of the venue. 

“What?” I asked. 

“Sit.” When I didn’t move, Joe nodded to the bench behind me. “Sit down, Y/N. Take a breather. I can see the rage in your eyes and the vein in your neck is doing a weird twitch thing.” 

Instinctively, my hand went to my neck, rubbing at it, before sitting on the bench with a long breath; Joe doing the same. 

We let a long beat of silence fall between us and with the sudden breeze of cold air, I shivered and covered my bare arms suddenly wishing I didn’t wear the dress with skinny straps. 

“Cold?” Joe wondered. 

When I nodded, he handed over his jacket which I took gratefully. “I’ll make sure to give it back to you.” 

“Good,” he snorted playfully. “Because it’s my favorite.”

I chuckled while easing onto the bench, now warm. “About what happened inside with Trey-.”

Joe bumped his shoulder with mine. “Don’t even worry about it. I’ve been through something similar. I did love how you threw in lyrics from Clarity in Kerosene. ”

I rubbed my hands on my thighs, suddenly nervous. “Uh, yeah. Your album Reaper means a lot to me so it felt therapeutic in a way.” 

We sat for another long while, enjoying the quiet that shocked us for being in the middle of the city. It was in the middle of the night but neither of us was complaining. 

“It’s an honor doing this tour with you, Joe. I’ve been a fan for so long.” I smiled at him.

“Hey, the honor is all mine,” he ran a hand through his hair with a sheepish smile. “Hollow Souls has been on my playlist for a long time.”

A familiar memory of long ago crept into my mind of someone saying the same thing. 

“We're huge fans of Hollow Souls. Noah has your music on the playlist we play during the wait time for our shows.”

 “Ya know, someone else told me the same thing the first time I met him,” I said with a warm smile. 

Joe’s brow peaked. “Yeah? Seems like I’ll have to meet this someone.” 

Noah flashed in my mind now; his infectious smile, his bright almond eyes, and the sound of his laughter made my heart flutter. Even though he was hundreds of miles away, our souls were always connected. It was as if he was sitting right here with me. I could feel the ghost of his hand on my thigh and his lips on mine. 

“I love you, angel,” those eyes glimmered as he watched me. 

“Hm,” I hummed while bumping my shoulder with Joe’s again. “Maybe someday.” 

READER

As I stepped out of the bathroom, towel-drying my long locks, I sighed in content and made work of getting ready. It was an off day but I had no plans, something I intended to keep so much so that I was dressed in a pair of Bad Omens joggers and a black crop top tank. My typical stay-home outfit. 

Just when I was about to load up my laptop to continue writing, there was a persistent knock on my hotel room door. It wasn’t Chase or Malcolm since they mentioned to me earlier that they were spending the day doing a joint interview and then getting something to eat. 

Some would think it was weird that I wasn’t going to an interview with them but Hollow Souls were all for doing our own separate interviews or joint. I did my fair share of solo ones, the same with Chase and Malcolm. I actually had one planned in a few days so I wasn’t too upset about skipping out on this one today. 

“Joe?” I asked while leaning against the open door. “What’s up?” 

He smiled while giving me a once-over. “Good, you’re dressed. Grab your things and let’s go.” 

“Go where?” My brows furrowed. 

“We’re not going to waste the day away inside. I have our whole afternoon planned,” Joe adjusted his hat. 

“You do, huh?” I chuckled while leaving him on the threshold of the open door so I could grab my things, not wanting to forget the small camera I brought along for this tour, and slipped on a pair of white Converse.

With the door closed behind me, I let Joe lead me toward the elevator where we waited for it. 

“There’s this sunflower field I was thinking we could check out,” Joe said. 

“That sounds nice,” I smiled while we both stepped into the elevator. 

“Hilary sent it to me this morning and said it would be a great place to clear your head with what happened last night,” he informed. 

“Did you tell her-?” I chewed on the inside of my cheek as the elevator descended. 

Joe quickly shook his head. “Nope. I only mentioned how you needed to clear your head.” 

“Thank you,” I breathed when the doors opened. 

For the next few hours, Joe and I enjoyed the peacefulness of the sunflower field. We laughed, we joked, and he told me about his life growing up as I did the same. He also told me about an ex of his that messed him up mentally causing him to hide away for a year. 

“I had to cancel shows because the depression and panic attacks were so bad I had to seek treatment,” Joe said as we neared the end of the sunflower maze. “I went to hospitals, sat with monks in Buddhist temples, and went to therapy. I was so mad that someone took years out of my life.” 

I smiled solemnly. “I understand what that’s like.”

“Therapy told me that I need to stop hating the world and hating myself. I found someone who showed me what love is and I’ll forever be grateful for her,” Joe said. 

“She sounds like a lovely person, Joe. I’m glad you were able to find your happy ending.”

We came to a stop in front of a large patch of sunflowers with him a few spaces in front of me. 

“Hey,” I called after him, beckoning him to turn around so I could take a picture of him. 

His black hood was pulled over his hat and a small bag crossed over his chest. Although he didn’t smile on his lips, I could see it in his eyes. 

“It seems like you found your own happy ending,” Joe noted. 

My cheeks burned as I waved him off. “Oh, no. Not yet. We’re not official.” 

“But you text each other every night at 10 o'clock to say I love you?” 

“It’s-,” I pursed my lips while looking around the field. “Complicated”. 

Being in an open field like this, the breeze blowing through my hair, made me remember the last time I was in a place of solace like this. 

Earlier that day. 

"Noah?" I asked while looking up at him through lashes.

"Yes, angel?"

"You have a cute nose," my voice was quiet. 

Noah tilted his head to the side. "My nose?"

"Yeah. It's just the perfect size for your facial structure," I booped his nose. 

"Did-did you just boop my nose?" Noah chuckled with a scrunched face.

"See!" I pointed to him. "You look so fucking cute; it's insane."

"Angel, literally.” 

"Mochi, literally," I mocked while sticking out my tongue. 

Joe’s soft voice brought me out of the memory and I blinked at me. “Hm, I’m sorry. Did you say something?” 

“Do you want to be with Noah?” He asked his question again while gripping the strap of his bag. 

“More than anything,” I answered without missing a beat. 

He shrugged. “Then what’s holding you back?” 

I licked my lips while shifting on my feet. “It’s not as easy as you think. After that party, so much happened and things were said that I can’t exactly forget. I was hurt and needed time away.” 

“So you just left?” 

Hearing the reality of what I did from someone else made the guilt eat away at my insides and my heart sunk low. 

“I needed to get my head together,” I defended while adjusting the black beanie on my head. 

“Do you guys even talk? Besides the usual 10 p.m. texts?” Joe asked. 

Not wanting to speak, I shook my head with a long breath. 

“Y/N, this might not be my place, but that wasn’t very fair of you to do that.”

I bit my lip, not trying to snap at Joe because all he was doing was being a good friend; something I needed. 

“My therapy session is tomorrow. I didn’t need it today,” I sighed while running my hands up and down my thighs. 

“My friend, you do,” Joe snorted. “Why are you so afraid of committing to this?” 

I played with the string of my joggers, really mewling over his question. Noah and I moved past all the bullshit and we’re ready to finally be together. So what was I so afraid of?

With a wobbly lip, I let out a shaky breath and met Joe’s eyes. “I just don’t want to disappoint him, I don’t want him to ever feel like I don’t support him or something.”

He squeezed my arm. “I don’t think you can. If you’re both more than aware that you’re human beings, Y/N.” 

“Understandable,” I nodded. “But I don’t want him to know how flawed I can be.” 

“It’s vital to face hard facts and choose to be present, honest, and mindful of what’s happening in the life of your relationship. You guys aren’t even official yet and you’re worrying about shit that you don’t need to.”

Birds chirping were muted by the sudden commotion of a group of people arriving at the sunflower patch but neither Joe nor I moved from the end of the maze we finished a while ago.

“You’re not robots, Y/N.” He began. “Erase any confusion or doubt surrounding your needs so you can learn to powerfully communicate your needs. You both need to talk. Get it out of yourselves, don’t curl up with shit alone. Don’t do that to him. Don’t assume the worst about him, especially when you haven’t even discussed things properly.” 

I crossed my arms over my chest while shifting all of my weight to one foot. “I never even noticed. In hindsight, I thought I was doing something validating. Turns out I hurt him numerous times, and he still did nothing but try to love me. Even when I wasn’t perfect. I left him alone in that hotel room because things became to real. I left him the night of the party because we both admitted we love each other. And I do. I love him, Joe. I love him so much. I want us to work. But I don’t understand why I keep leaving him. I don’t want it; I just do.” 

Joe gave me a warm smile. “I know, Y/N. You should talk to your therapist about this. I think she can give you more insight than I can offer but just know I understand. You need to approach Noah and this relationship with a loving spirit, believing that he will love you and we want to satisfy you in every way. That he is deserving of your love and kindness even if things feel too good to be true. Feel it out, you’re probably that good of a fit.”

I playfully rolled my eyes. “Joe, I don’t need another therapist.”

He snorted. “No, you don’t, but I’d like to think I’m your friend and I’m telling you, that doing this to someone you love isn’t fair. Noah deserves to communicate with you too. I haven’t met the guy or seen the two of you together but from what you told me I already know.  He fucking loves you, Y/N.”

“I love him too, so fucking much, okay? I do,” I admitted with tears in my eyes. 

“I’m not saying you don’t/. I don’t know everything but, from my experience and what I’ve learned, shit like this can ruin a perfectly good relationship because we simply don’t tell ourselves the truth.”

I cocked my head to the side confused. “Truth about what?” 

“About why you’re subconsciously running,” Joe said. “You’re scared shitless and this avoidance can lead to procrastination that delays dealing with damaging stressors on or within your relationship. It did until the pipe finally burst at the birthday party.” 

“Should I be paying you by the hour?” I joked with a small chuckle.

“If you want to,” he snorts. “No, but come on. If you want him to be there for you, to be your everything, then you have to give half as well.” 

“I know. I want to. I’ve been feeling so sick lately without him.” 

It was true. 

Noah and I seemed to have been brought together by this unknown force. The universe? Maybe: we didn’t believe in high powers, yet also knew we weren’t alone. 

Staggered over weeks, months, or years. In this time the pain of our separation was an act as a focusing lens. The point was to give each other time to see the purity of our love, to be sure that there can be only one lover for this lifetime. 

Seems silly, especially in this era. Yet, it’s how I feel. I just know.

I get almost neurotic to my knees. I know that I must get enough sleep. He made a sham of my pain. I feel like I blew a hole in my heart with an ice-cold magnum. 

Why, when he’s not around I feel lonely when there’s company around. I’m not lost, but I have been found. That level of emotional indifference is not a mark of superiority, but the reverse. I was always worth more, I just needed to educate myself as to how and why.

It hit me. My body yearned for the other half of me.  The lovers who are right for one another take away the other pain naturally, by virtue of who they are the strength of their loving bond.

I couldn’t wait to embrace him again.

Joe peered over his shoulder, noticing a group of people slowly reaching us so he motioned for me to start walking in step with him. “Of course you do. It’s like half of your entire body is ripped apart and begging for the other half back.”

I smacked his arm. “Yes, exactly like that! Even though we’re far apart from each other right now, I still know subconsciously what he’s doing without actually knowing.”

“Exactly. So you two need to talk together about what you’re facing. Discuss the realities and your key concerns. Listen to each other and reflect on what you hear for optimal understanding. Be curious and open-minded concerning each other’s ideas and solutions for relief and change. If you love him, meet him in the middle like you’re saying in the song, Y/N. Don’t just use words, act too.”

We reached the rental car and Joe leaned against the driver's door. “What do you want this song to do; to say?” 

My forehead creased as I put deep thought into Joe’s question. “I think I want to expose the vulnerability. I’m kind of like star light. Maybe it can guide the way to the ones who must travel by night. The ones who don’t know that there is something special waiting for you if you keep pushing forward.” 

Joe bumped his fist with mine. “I love that, a reminder for people. However, it’s not just about that.”

“No, no it isn’t,” I chuckled. “It’s special that we aren't so different, him and I. Somehow together we are balanced. As yin and yang, but a perfect match. All I want is for him to ask me to stay again, and I’ll always say yes.”

JOE

The conversation between Malcolm and Chase was muted as we sat at the hotel restaurant, my food going cold a while ago. After my afternoon with Y/N at the sunflower field with our conversation and everything that happened last night, something was weighing heavy on my mind. 

Malcolm must have sensed it because he waved a hand in front of my face. “Everything alright?” 

My eyes snapped up towards him and I nodded. “Oh yeah, yeah I’m good. I’m just reflecting on that whole interaction last night. 

Chase hummed while resting an arm over the back of Malcolm’s chair. “We’re sorry Trey pulled you in the middle of it.”

“It’s fine but he’s a fucking piece of work,” I said. 

Malcolm took a long drink of his beer. “Yeah. He’s always been a piece of shit. It was like that for fucking years. Trey tried to dictate everything she did. What the band did. He was off doing what he wanted when he wanted. Y/N would fall into it time after time until-.” 

“Til Noah?” I asked with a hint of a smile. 

“Yeah,” Chase spoke next. “Have you  ever heard of Bad Omens?”

“I’ve heard their name and listened to a couple of their songs. But I’ve never seen his face until recently,” I said. 

“Did he send her a dirty photo?!” Malcolm’s eyes widened. 

“No!” I shook my head with a chuckle. “Y/N showed me a picture of him in braids.” 

“Oh, that picture,” Chase snorted. 

I continued again. “Noah has a great range and a good ear; talented guy. He seems crazy about Y/N from what she said.”

“Oh, he is. Shit, he’s over the fucking moon and back and everything fucking else. They have some otherworldly shit going on.” 

“Oh yeah? Think so?” I asked Malcolm. 

He shared a look with Chase, both of them smiling. “We know so. Noah made her fucking smile again. Laugh in a way we hadn’t heard in so long. He gave her confidence when she desperately needed it. Y/N became herself again. It’s been so beautiful to watch her hatch from the sick cocoon she was in. Last night was a terrific example. We’re so proud of her.”

“Yeah, that was something; the way she stood up to him. She kicked his ass. I may not have been around or anything for long, but that was awesome to see. I’d like to talk to Noah about it.”

Chase and Malcolm shared yet another look, the former's brows raised as he looked at me.

“You want Noah’s number? That’s a bit random, no?” 

“I just want to formally introduce myself,” I assured them. “To let him know how Y/N was last night and how awesome your record is.” 

“Is that all you want to let him know? Or do you want to make sure Noah knows that you’re not a threat? Because he knows you aren’t. And he also knows that Trey hasn’t come near her,” Malcolm reassured me. 

“No, it’s not even about that,” I leaned forward on the table to rest my arms on it. “I want to keep him in the loop, I have a feeling they’re still working out this what do I say or not say phase. Y/N’s become a friend now, and I’d like to also reach out my hand so he knows things are cool on our end.” 

I shrugged. “Plus, Noah deserves to know how badass she is and that she can take care of herself.”

After dinner, on my way back up to my hotel room, I had my phone in my hand as I worked out the message to Noah. 

Me: Hey Noah, this is Joe. I got your number from Chase and Malcolm. This is a little awkward but I wanted to introduce myself. I’ve actually listened to your band- you’re really talented! The acoustic version of If I’m There was killer, seriously. 

Now in my room, I sat on the edge of my bed to send another text. 

Me: I’m texting you because I’m sure you saw the video of what happened with Trey and Y/N. I will firstly say, she’s fucking awesome! And I’m honored to be on this tour with her and the guys. Incredible musicians and incredible people. Gearing back to the whole Trey situation, he showed up out of nowhere; but I feel it’s important to let you know, at least from my side, that Y/N kicked ass. She stood up for herself and I could see she felt a world of relief.

Only a few minutes went by when Noah texted back. 

Noah Sebastian: Hey Joe, it’s Noah. I’ve heard a lot about you as well. Y/N has been a huge fan of yours for a long time. She was stoked about this tour, and yes she is awesome. Y/N’s special to a lot of us. She’s a genuine person and has a heart of gold; Chase and Malcolm as well. I appreciate your kind words. That means a lot. You know how it is- especially in this industry. And I did see the video, unfortunately. You were there?

I quickly responded to Hilary’s text before typing out my reply to Noah. 

Me: In case she needed support.

Noah Sebastian: Right, thank you for that. I hated what Trey said, I wish I could have stopped it myself but I also know how important it was for Y/N to have closure. I’m so fucking proud of her. 

I let out a loud laugh when I saw the meme Y/N sent me but swiped away the message for right now, continuing to text Noah. 

Me: You should be proud. She’s awesome and she’s over the moon about you. From what I’m told you really lit a fire inside her, and that seems to be shining through. My partner did that for me when I found her and I’m sure it’s the same for you as well. So I just wanted to pass this along and formally introduce myself. I’m sure Y/N will bring this up to you but I wanted to show you how I saw it on my end. I hope we can meet soon.

Me: Oh, also. Hollow Souls new record is going to be sick. What they’ve been working on is sounding great.

I busied myself the next long while getting myself packed since we were planning on leaving in a few hours to head to the next city. Once finished, I realized that Noah texted me back almost instantly after I sent the last text. 

Noah Sebastian: For sure! Thank you so much. I wish I could be there. But, I understand it’s not the right time. I do hope soon we can chill at my place to shoot the shit. Thank you again for sending me a text. Very kind of you and I’m sure we’ll talk soon. I can’t wait to hear her new album. We’re all very stoked about it. We’re also close to releasing our record, I’d love for you to check it out! 

Me: Hell yes!

READER

“And if you and I can make it through the night,” I hummed while sitting in my bunk on the tour bus. 

My laptop was perched in my lap as I loaded up Zoom, clicking on Dr. Poulos’ contact. It wasn’t our usual appointment day or time but with what happened the other day, I felt as if I needed an emergency session. It wasn’t because of the negative parts but for the first time in a long while, I felt good. My spirits were high and nothing could wipe the smile from my face. 

“Well someone seems like they’re in good spirits today.” Dr. Poulos’ voice sang through my speakers. 

Her graying hair was pulled back in a tight bun and she had black glasses perched high on her nose. 

“I am actually,” I smiled, the kind of smile that made the corner of your eyes crinkle. 

She tilted her head. “Care to elaborate?”

I began telling her the entire story of Trey and my afternoon with Joe from top to bottom; from that night up until now. 

“I’m very proud of you, Y/N for standing up for yourself and closing that chapter in your life. And Joe seems like he’s becoming a great friend in the aspect of telling you things you need to hear.” 

“Yeah, he is.” I nodded. 

Although I was in high spirits before this meeting, something shifted in my brain and I began to stare at the keyboard of my laptop. 

“What’s the matter Y/N? You’re slipping into disassociating thought,” Dr. Poulos’ voice brought me back.  

“Nothing,” I had a tight lip smile. 

“Y/N,” she warned. “We’ve talked about this; you need to be open and transparent.”

Reluctantly, I nodded with a sigh. “Okay, well-.” 

When she motioned me on with a nod, I continued. “How- fuck this is embarrassing. How do I stop running away?” 

“Do you grasp that’s what you’ve been doing to Noah?” 

“I do,” I admitted. “But it hasn’t been intentional. I love him, I’m- I just don’t want to become my parents.”

Dr. Poulos’ gave me a small smile. “It’s great that you’re seeking to address this pattern. Building healthy relationships often involves understanding and addressing the root causes of our behaviors.” 

“I’m trying.” 

“It might be helpful to reflect on past experiences and identify any underlying fears or insecurities that may be contributing to your tendency to run away from relationships,” she adjusted her glasses. 

“I know it’s my mother, I know it is. Noah seemed to know it too since he was there that day she reamed into me,” I said. 

Her eyes lit up. “Yes, I remember that day. You were very grateful for him being there weren’t you?” 

“More than anything. He’s my safety when I feel like I have none,” I answered. 

“That’s wonderful Y/N. In Addition, I suggest practicing self-care, setting boundaries, and communicating openly with Noah as your partner, rather than your friend, which can help build a foundation for more fulfilling and lasting connections. I remember you telling me you finally admitted your love for each other,” Dr. Poulos couldn’t hold back the wide smile on her face now. 

“Yes. I do, I do love him and I don’t want to do anything to hurt him. Noah’s already so hard on himself with everything.  I don’t want to be one more thing he’s hard on himself about. I want to help, be his escape, and his safe haven. I want him to trust I’ll stay because I want to; I will always stay.” 

She wrote something down in her journal before resting her chin in her hand as she looked back at me through her screen. “I know, Y/N. You’ve spoken about this often.  Seeking support in this form can also provide valuable insights and strategies for breaking this pattern. I believe the two of you can and you won’t run.”

I ran a hand through my hair, the length becoming a big annoyance lately. “You know so much about this, Dr. Poulos. I don’t know the first thing. I want to be able to communicate with him. Not do what I have been doing.” 

“Y/N, it’s normal. It’s critical that before you speak to Noah, you suspend any assumptions or conclusions that put you at odds with him. You absolutely need to approach him by making a generous assumption; and by giving him the benefit of the doubt. This is what it means to be a team, even when you’re feeling distant. You keep loving even when you are feeling as if you are unloveable. You’re not going to do what you did with Trey.”

“Trey.” 

His name still tasted bitter on my tongue. 

“Yes,” Dr. Poulos nodded. “You got your closure on that chapter. Now this is a new one.

“I can’t shake the fear sometimes. The fear of the feeling coming at me all at once and messing it up,” I shifted in my bunk. 

“What I suggest doing when you are feeling upset or angry is to own your emotions and realize that they stem from your interpretation of the situation, not from the facts of the situation. Your fears and deep-seated beliefs about your own sense of inadequacy, unworthiness, or unlovability often lie at the root of all those negative stories you tell yourself about why life is happening the way that it is.”

“Woah,” I blinked. “That’s-uh-a great observation.”

Dr. Poulos narrowed her eyes at me while steepling her fingers under her chin. “I have an assignment for you.”

“Oh, come on! You know how busy I already am,” I joked with a wave of my hand.

She let out a soft giggle. “Yes, well, this will be fairly simple.”

“Take a moment to challenge your assumptions, and allow the possibility that something completely different could be true. Like that, you are loved! And that with patience and respectful communication, you can experience something exceptional with Noah. You said his album is coming out soon, this party could be a great way to try this. Have you thought about going?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I said without missing a beat. 

“Wonderful Y/N, see this as an opportunity to vulnerably share something about yourself with Noah, be curious so that you, through this experience, can learn something with him, too.”

I’d be the first one to admit that at first, therapy wasn’t something I thought I needed. It was a waste of time to talk about my feelings with someone who didn’t understand. But right now, I was eating my words. 

“Joe was right,” I said after a few beats of silence. 

“About?” Dr. Poulos shook her head with confusion. 

“Discussing this further with you, thank you it helps,” I ended our session with a large smile. 

READER

“Not to be overly dramatic. I just think it's best. 'Cause you can't miss what you forget.” Joe sang into the microphone. 

I sat in my spot on the couch in the interview space, watching and singing along with a bright smile. 

“So, let's just pretend everything and anything between you and me was never meant,” he finished the song with a long breath. 

I, along with the interviewer, Jackson, clapped as Joe took a seat next to me on the couch. 

“That was phenomenal. We appreciate you being here with us,” Jackson beamed. 

My phone buzzed in my lap and with a glance downward, I felt my face warm at the name. 

Mochi 🍡: You look phenomenal, angel. 

“Thank you,” Joe nodded with a faint smile. “I’m sure I can speak for Y/N that we’re both glad to be here.” 

“It seems like the tour is going pretty well. Every show is sold out. How does that feel for you, Joe? I know Hollow Souls are used to this feeling,” Jackson said while fixing his notes, not looking at me. 

I tilted my head to the side, tongue brushing over my bottom lip. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

He finally looked my way and shrugged. “It's just that Hollow Souls is already pretty popular. You guys are used to playing in front of a sold-out crowd.”

“Are you saying that nothing, nowhere isn’t? Or did you forget that his last headlining tour had three back-to-back sold-out shows?” I questioned with a raised brow.  

“Well,” Jackson shifted in his chair across from us and looked at Joe. 

He merely ran a hand through his hair. “Number one fan.” 

“So,” Jackson cleared his throat. “Everyone online is begging me to ask you two this but what’s the dating situation? There’s so much chemistry between the two of you in the behind-the-scenes clips you guys post on Instagram. Everyone wants to know; are you two dating?” 

Joe and I shared a look then I made a show of rolling my eyes while crossing my legs. “Just because a male and female artist tour together, doesn't mean they’re dating.”

My phone buzzed again but this time, I opened the message to read it fully. 

Mochi 🍡: Tell him who’s boss, angel. You know who you belong to.

I cleared my throat while setting my phone screen down in my lap just in time for Joe to speak. 

“No, no. I’m spoken for.”

Jackson looked at me. “Y/N?”

“That’s my name, yes. Do you have a question about Hollow Souls or the tour?” I said with slight venom in my voice. 

Typically I didn’t mind interviews but every once in a while, I’d get an asshole of an interviewer that asked all the wrong kinds of questions. 

“Video surfaced online that Trey was at the show a few nights ago and it looked like the two of you were having an intense conversation. Is there a chance he’s joining Hollow Souls again?” 

My face twitched as something inside of me burned. I leaned towards Jackson with narrowed eyes. 

“Here’s what we’re not going to do; we’re not gonna focus on my love life, or personal life. I make art, not headlines. I’m cool because I'm me, and my band is cool. The art is what’s the focus, not anything else. I do feel as if people need to understand that having a private life is my right. I don’t feel comfortable sharing every aspect. Like I said, I make art, not headlines.” 

“That’s a bold statement to make. It comes with the whole fame territory,” Jackson tried to joke. 

“I refuse to allow this time in my life to be touched, tainted, or bastardized by anyone,” I finished while crossing my arms over my chest. 

While Jackson changed his direction and tone of questions towards Joe for the next couple of minutes, I bounced my knee as the anger continued to fest low in my gut until another text came in. 

Mochi 🍡: Fuck I love when you put douchebags in their place. You’re so sexy, angel. Fuck. I’m going to think about you bossing me around all night.

A hot flash of arousal took over every inch of me as I shifted in my spot on the couch, clenching my thighs together to curb the itch that burned there. 

“Everything alright?” Joe wondered when he saw the warmth on my cheeks. 

I cleared my throat. “Yep. Totally fine.” 

It would be so easy to call Noah to have our first phone sex but the thought of messing with him later sounded more fun.

“So, Y/N. I’d love to know what the future of Hollow Souls looks like?” Jackson questioned with a different tone. 

“See? It’s not that hard to ask questions that actually matter,” I teased with a smile. “But I don’t think we found ourselves because we always knew we wanted this style and this direction but we never really had the confidence to do that.” 

“With this record though, we finally have the assurance to know that we can make it work.”

“Is there inspiration behind this new album?” Jackson wondered. 

“I've always been really inspired by dark things and the supernatural for some reason. Ghosts, paranormal stuff, death, anger, sadness.” 

I gave pause when I realized that this wasn’t exactly a happy inspiration. 

“Well, anything that’s not happy basically inspires me, which sounds kinda messed up,” I admit with a laugh. 

“A lot of the new record, I wrote when I was having a really bad time mentally. I don’t like calling it depression but it seemed like that and I couldn’t pinpoint what my issues were, or what was wrong with me but I knew there was something wrong.” 

Joe watched with a proud smile and I knew that there were a few others back home watching with their own proud smile; my heart could feel it. 

“My problems weren’t tangible things, they weren’t things I could see or explain to people so in a way it was like they were ghosts or spirits that were haunting me,” I continued. 

Jackson rubbed his chin. “Why do you think that is?” 

I pursed my lips, thinking about my answer deeply. “I think a lot of people are afraid to put it out there and talk about it but we weren’t. I think that might be a big reason people have connected to the songs that have been released so far. I feel like for anyone who’s sharing feelings of topics like that, it’s a little bit scary but I feel it's more therapeutic and cathartic to write about that stuff, to talk about that stuff and put it out there. You feel better about it. To know that other people can connect to that makes you feel even better. As scary as it at first, it eventually just pays off and turns out to be good in the end.”

“Why do you think people can relate to it?” 

I shrugged. “I guess because our new album is pretty raw and honest. There’s a lot of topics people can relate to and I think it sounds pretty great, if I do say so myself. We’re pretty proud of it.”

Jackson leaned into his chair. “I would like to jump back to the haunting aspect of this album. Can you elaborate on what exactly is haunting you, if you don’t mind.” 

We’d be here all day if I did and frankly, it wasn’t his or anyone who was watching business. 

“I’m becoming a very private person as of late so I don’t need to go into the personal aspects of my life. Just know I’m moving past things, and I’m very content. Dare I say happy with where the future will be.”

Jackson nodded. “Fair enough. Would you say you’re hopeful for what the future will bring?” 

With a bright smile, I looked directly at the camera that had been pointed at us the entire time and winked. 

“Oh yes, more than hopeful.” 

Later on that night, when I was in the solace of the bathroom of the tour bus, I wore the skimpy red lace teddy I bought earlier. The necklace and bracelet glinted under the dim light as I extended my arm to take a variety of pictures; the sly smirk never leaving my lips. 

With four different pictures attached, I quickly typed out a message to Noah right on the dot at 10 p.m. 

Me: You were bold to text me earlier like that, mochi, I could barely contain myself. Here’s a little payback. Hope you’re all flustered and bothered, whatever you’re doing I suppose will have to wait. Dream of me. I love you.

Almost instantly, Noah texted back as I was swiftly changing into my pajamas for the evening. What I thought was one text became four right after the other. 

Mochi 🍡: Matt’s right next to me, angel. What if he saw this?

Mochi 🍡: fuck, my dick is throbbing right now but I can’t do shit about it. Consider this my karma.

Mochi 🍡: I can’t stop staring at the picture. Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Beautiful. A true definition of an angel. 

Mochi 🍡: I’m going to call you in a little bit. I need to hear your voice. I need it. 

Switching off the bathroom light, I walked across the narrow hallway to climb into my bunk and under the covers

Me:  I’m going to bed early tonight. Maybe we can talk on the phone tomorrow. I love you.

By the time Noah responded, I was already in a peaceful, dark slumber.

Mochi 🍡: Fuck, I love you too angel. So fucking much. 

READER

"Wait," Joe shook his head at us. "You guys do this after every tour?" 

Malcolm nodded as he held the door open for all of us. "Every tour. It's become a Hollow Souls tradition."

As we all crowded into the small tattoo shop’s lobby, Joe's eyes brightened with the realization. 

“Oh, so that's why you got the tattoo of the anime character on your ankle.” 

"Yep, I smiled brightly. "Noah and I got them together on my birthday." 

The buzzing was loud in the tattoo shop as I waved at the owner who had no problem staying open late for us tonight. We finished the tour strong tonight with a hype crowd and with the adrenaline still buzzing through us, we decided to get the tattoos as soon as we left the venue. 

Joe shifted on his feet while running a hand through his hair. “You’re positive you want to get the Reaper album art tattooed?”

"This album helped me through some dark times in my life. I need to do it, especially with what happened last week. It’ll be a great way to remember a great tour and the new friend I made,” I answered while bumping his shoulder with mine. 

After we all checked in and waited, Chase ruffled my hair. “It’s almost 10 p.m LA time, sweets.”

"Shit!" I cursed while quickly whipping out my phone from my pocket. "I can't believe I almost missed it!"

Me: I love you, Mochi. Last night of tour went off without a hitch. Currently getting our typical tattoos. I can’t wait to show you what I get. 

I sat on the bed, exposing my left thigh to the artist after she laid down the stencil, and struck up a conversation with everyone as I waited for Noah to respond. Surprisingly, tonight it took him a long while to text back which made my mind wander to what he was up to. My heart didn’t ache and my stomach wasn’t filled with nerves which meant it wasn’t anything terrible. 

After my risque picture I sent him the other day, we never had the chance to talk on the phone, but I knew that it still affected him because any chance he could, Noah would send me risque texts throughout the day.

“Thank fuck,” I breathed when my phone buzzed next to me. 

Mochi 🍡: I can’t wait to see it, angel. Also, sorry it took me so long to respond. I may have taken Salem to the pet store to spoil him with a few things. I hope you know I plan on keeping him for a bit once you’re back home. Mal said you guys will be busy in the studio so no need for Salem to be home alone. I love you too, angel. 

“I would ask who has you smiling like that but it’s pointless. There’s only one person who can do that,” Malcolm snorted while his artist wrapped up his tattoo. 

I stuck out my tongue at him. “Noah told me he took Salem shopping.” 

Chase rolled his eyes playfully. “And you say he’s not Salem’s dad yet.” 

Before I could set my phone down, another message came through; one I read with a fast beating heart. 

Nick R : February 23, 2022. 929 Angelus Street. Turn Right on Luna Ave. Overnight valet is already handled. No, Noah doesn’t know when to expect you. Don’t be late, Cinderella.

Nick R: The theme is red. I think you know why. Do with that what you will.

Oh shit, that was in just over two weeks. Which meant I needed a dress. And new shoes. A new hairstyle wouldn’t hurt either. 

With a smile, I responded back to Nick. 

Me: We will be there! Unlike Cinderella, I have no intention of losing my shoe and missing my Prince Charming.

Nick R: Oh good! We are merely the mice. 

CHASE

I grumbled under my breath as I scrubbed out the fresh red paint out of the dining room carpet. How many times have I told her to put a damn drop down? Y/N’s lucky I know my way around cleaning supplies and know how to get a stain out. 

Malcolm clicked his tongue against his teeth as he leaned against the wall, staring down at me as I continued to scrub on my hands and knees. 

“I must say, I love this sight of you. On your knees.” 

I snapped my eyes up at him. “Not fucking funny, Mal.” 

“I think she’ll be really excited for what Noah has planned,” he noted. 

“Oh she’s gonna lose it! In the best way,” I agreed while continuing to scrub. 

 “I think so too.” Malcolm placed a kiss on my lips before sauntering into the kitchen to get things ready for dinner. “How long do you think Y/N will be?” 

“Not sure,” I ran a hand over my buzzed head then threw in the towel; literally. 

“You know how she is when she’s let loose in the art supply store. I’d be shocked if she made it back before dinner,” I continued while hopping up on the counter. 

Malcolm began setting out the variety of ingredients and I reached for my phone next to me. 

Me: Noah, beware of paint all over the carpet.

Noah S: Already taken care of.

I showed Malcolm the text to which he smirked. “Did we expect anything less from him?”

Me: Good. Because even though I love her to the ends of the earth, paint is a fucking bitch to clean. 

Malcolm handed me a beer, one I took with a kiss of thanks, and slowly nursed it as Noah texted me back. 

Noah S: Here’s the address. I would love it if you and Malcolm come check it out. 

Me: Definitely. Let's plan for Friday?

READER

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, eyes locked on the things scattered all over the counter, I found myself dissociating into thoughts of earlier today when we were in the studio. We had one last song to record before we started the final touches but this song was the most important. It needed to be perfect. 

I needed to be perfect. 

Which is why 

“Sweets you’ve gone over the verse we can meet in the middle at least ten times now. I think it’s good.”

Chase reassured me as I came out of the vocal booth with a scrunched up face. I did not like how my voice sounded which prompted me to do vocal take after vocal take. 

I fell to the couch in between him and Malcolm. “I need this to be perfect. I hate how my voice is sounding. It can’t sound like this. It can’t.” 

“It sounds amazing, Y/N! I promise,” Malcolm said. 

“I just-,” I ran a hand through my long hair and groaned. “This is so important to me. I want him to know I’m here. And I’m not going to leave him.”

“Noah knows sweets, he knows. He’s so stoked for this record. You know he’ll love it.”

I tossed my hair on top of my head in a messy bun, exhausted with the length. I needed my neck to breathe. It felt as if I was suffocating under the weight of it. 

“Fucking hormones,” I eventually chuckled while wiping tears from my eyes. 

Malcolm gave me a weak smile while rubbing my back. “Any pain today?” 

“A little but not much. It’s bearable.” I informed them. 

Chase nodded while squeezing my knee. “Ok, if you need a break let us know. Don’t push yourself too much. You sound beautiful.”

Salem jumped on the counter, breaking me from my thoughts, and immediately I brought him up in my chest. His green eyes stared up at me in wonder and maybe a little bit of confusion with what he saw.

“Did you have fun with Noah?” I missed you so much,” I cooed. 

Noah dropped him off while we were in the studio, us just missing each other by mere minutes. 

My fingers scratched at Salem’s neck, now realizing the bright red collar and new tag. 

“Oh, dad did in fact spoil you while I was gone. New collar, new tag, a bunch of new sushi toys. Not to mention the bed that can fit a 20 pound dog,” I chuckled. 

My shoulders went rigid when I realized what I just said. 

Dad. 

I just called Noah Salem’s dad. 

Swallowing thickly at the acceptance, I then looked at the new tag and felt my heart jump into my throat; heat spreading from the tips of my toes to my scalp.

Oh my heart. 

Salem Sebastian-L/N. 

And on the front of the tag were symbols I’d never seen before. “Huh, that's weird. What’s with the yin yang and eye symbol?” 

Biting my lip, I set Salem down on the counter and picked up my phone instead, quickly dialing the number I had memorized so long ago. 

Noah picked up after the second ring. “Hi, angel.” 

I twirled a piece of fresh hair around my finger while leaning against the counter. 

“Salem Sebastian-L/N huh?” 

A quick beat of silence. “Yeah. Figured he needed a collar with his full name. I think he likes me, he was quite needy. Is that alright?”

“Definitely alright, mochi,” I smiled into the phone. “Do the symbols have any meaning?

“You’ll know soon, angel.”

“Okay then. Keep your secrets,” I groaned. 

Noah’s infectious laughter made my stomach flip. “Will do, Frodo.” 

“I think we are due for a Lord of the Rings marathon soon. You down?” I bit the inside of my cheek, hopeful for his answer. 

“Always down, especially with you.”

I did my best to hide my excitement and was thankful Noah wasn’t here to see the way I jumped on the soles of my feet. “Wonderful.” 

There was a long comfortable silence before his rich voice came through the speaker. 

“I miss you. I love you.” 

I played with my necklace. “I miss you too, Noah. I love you.” 

“We’ll talk later?”

It was now him who had the hopeful tone. 

“Always,” I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. 

“Okay.”

I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Goodnight mochi”.

“Good night angel.”

As I hung up the phone, Chase and Malcolm both popped their heads into the bathroom. They had an approving smile on their face. 

“Does it look bad?” I asked self-consciously. 

Malcolm was the first to speak. “It looks really good, sweets. We’re proud of you.” 

“New Era coming, huh?” Chase asked. 

“Yeah,” I nodded with a smile. “Yeah I think so. I’m ready for it.”

“Well good. Because we are too,” he knocked on the wall before the two of them disappeared in their bedroom. 

Hooking up the blow dryer, I began to dry my now darker and shorter hair, humming along to a song that had been stuck in my head all day. 

“I was lost but now I’m found.” 

Salem jumped up onto the closed toilet seat, watching me with bright eyes.

“We’re not perfect but we’re proud of who we are,” my voice echoed in the confines of the bathroom.

[marchsfreakshow]

Having Their Fill [JPM & The Countess]

Angst. Almost smut.

You knew The Countess switches lovers like that. It upset you and wished to not have be cursed the blood virus anymore. That meant being hers forever.

Warnings: blood mention, body checking, self image talk, weight talk, implied smut & dub-con. Fem!reader

I love this idea, and I hope you like this little thing I made up. Literally re-watching Hotel so I can get this out.

Your perspective.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

I stared at the image in the mirror. My gorgeous girlfriend, I guess you could call her that, The Countess, bought me it so she could have me look at myself during sex. Why? Fuck if I know. My eyes were always shut closed because of how made me feel while we were fucking. The stars always aligned when we were together, but I never took it too much to heart. Tristan and Liz told me that eventually she would get bored, throw me out and leave me be on the streets.

The body in front of me wasn't fun. It's not interesting, nothing is correct. No one would like this body. Too fat, too thin, too ugly, too skinny, too curvy. Everything and nothing at the same time. A loud sigh escaped me as she came in. "You've been staring at yourself for an hour love.." She said, walking towards me and my naked body. "Never doubt yourself. You're so beautiful. My lovely girl forever."

"Unlikely." I snorted.

"What do you mean?" Her eyes narrowed. People disagreeing with her meant death, but I could never believe her. She let me go and I got dressed. Slowly. My hands felt weak, I couldn't do much. It felt lonely here sometimes.

"I know you. I've been told about your past lovers...it's just a matter of time until you let me go and find another." Trousers on, still shirtless but wearing a bra. Looking up in the mirror, I saw her staring at my reflection.

"That may be true. You are so much different than the people before you." She placed a calm hand on my shoulder, but I slapped it away.

"Not fucking likely! You turn them, make them love you then throw them away or kill them!! How can I fucking love you so much when that fate awaits me.." Seething my teeth, I threw on my shirt lazily, barely doing up the bottom buttons. She did nothing but stand there and watch. As silent and still as ever. My stuff was in my hands just as quickly as I left. Leaving in a huff probably wasn't the best idea, but I just had to go somewhere else. Maybe talk to Liz.

Stomping down the hallways, I sighed and let all thoughts fall past me. Walking quickly was tiring, but my footsteps fell silent as I reached room 64. Another sigh left me, and I knocked on the door slowly, my head hung in slight embarrassment. A creak. "Little bird. Hello my dear."

"James.." I sniffed. His eyebrows furrowed and placed a hand on my back, walking me into the room. "It's..."

"The Countess? Dear, you must realise that she does not like staying with one person for so long."

"she stayed with you."

"I am stuck here, she lives here on her own terms. We have an arrangement so I can see her once every month. It has been this way for as long as I have been a ghost my bird."

I huffed again and crossed my arms, looking away from the ghost. He raised an eyebrow at me. "You should not be so upset with me, you said yes to this deal when the Countess and I agreed to share you."

"share me? That's fucking rich." I chuckled.

"You do remember the deal do you not little hummingbird?" As a response I nodded, barely meeting his eyes. He hummed and smiled ever so slightly.

"doesn't mean you share me though. She has me more than you do."

"Yes, insatiable, isn't she?" His eyes wandered off into the distance, the smile only growing wider. It took everything in me to not slap some sense into him. So I clicked my tongue and sat on the table closest to me. "Either she will come and find you to end your life or I make it quicker and save her a job." James grinned, turning on his heel and walking into another part of his room.

"Both of you find intimacy in killing, it'll probably be the same either way," I mutter, sort of following him like a lost puppy. I didn't particularly find the intimacy in killing, nor did I want to die just yet, but I couldn't take having this ancient curse in me anymore.

"Love, our killings could not be more different." I heard The Countess say from the doorframe. James flashed a smile at her, as she moved her attention between him and me. "I must kill to keep myself alive. He kills for pleasure."

"you describe it so perfectly my dear." He smiled, resting a hand on her back. I rolled my eyes and looked away from the dead and barely-in-love couple.

"Little mouse, what are you thinking? You seem distracted."

"About maybe if I can be let go now? I'm fucking done." James clicked his tongue and shook his head. Well fuck, suppose I'm stuck here now.

The door was closed behind them and James walked behind me and held a knife on my stomach as he wrapped his hands around me. It elicited a quiet chuckle out of the glorified vampire, and she walked towards us. Wow, where was all this sudden tension coming from? I just sighed and rested my head on James' shoulder, deciding to go along with whatever they had planned. Kisses on my neck, my shirt slowly being pulled over my head. Cold fingers on my torso. It made me gasp and I shivered, almost cooling back from the ghost touches.

A sharp blade gently stung my belly, cringing at the feeling. But I felt more kisses and licks, and my trousers, slowly being pulled down from my legs. Freezing air flew past me, causing more shivers. Incoherent whispers as The Countess stood up slowly, and placed a gentle hand on James' shoulder. I could feel their wicked smiles.

My back on the bed, scratchy sheets and then sharps and stings.

A long nail against my neck.

A knife under my breasts.

Heavy breaths.

God, I felt divine, and like I actually needed them. This fucking effect the both of them had on me. "Fuck.." I moaned out.

"You're a good girl, mouse."

James in me, The Countess admiring every part of my body and keeping a hand around my neck, whatever claws she owned, teasing every vein.

It was only a few minutes later when absolute silence.

What on earth was this darkness? Lovingly enveloping me, and making me feel warm.

Then I opened my eyes and I was looking at red. A body dressed in a green sweater and dirty jeans. My sweater and dirty jeans.

My back hit a chest.

"You died wonderfully my little bird." Oh fuck.

"James..." I whimpered, turning on my heel and hitting his collarbones. But the Countess grabbed my hands and pulled them back to behind me.

"None of that now mouse."

What the fuck was happening?? Why? I didn't plan on dying just now. But by the hands of the ones who owned and breathed this hotel. What the fuck else could I do?

"Jesus fuck..."

"you are now here with us for eternity my sweet. You are allowed to switch between the two of us for as long as you please."

Well, Christ okay. Despite the sudden hollowness of not being alive, I pressed a gentle kiss onto the Countess' cheek.

"fine...okay, just, can my body be removed or something?"

"Of course, it can love." The Countess smiled, petting my hair.

Eternity is going to be long...

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tag: @babygorewhore @nahoyasboyfriend @coentinim @slvt4jamesmarch @slutforgarlogan @feefymo

[lioncourtie]

hurricanes & sun-dented rooms: a symbolic analysis of relationships in interview with the vampire. 

˖⋆࿐໋

hello. i have decided to resurrect this blog to point out a symbolic element that caught my eye after my first watch of interview with the vampire’s eighth episode, the unholy finale of what was quite frankly one of the best seasons out there.

now, i know that maybe this wasn’t that intentional, even if the remarkably talented crew behind the show loves incorporating hidden, symbolic details in it , but the visible sunray during the loumand reunion (post burning the theatre des vampires, all hail the pointe du lac heir) was so flagrant to me. quite literally, i felt as thought it was denting the scene, keeping both characters apart, louis on one side, calmer, proud of his newly accomplished plan, yet still tormented by the trial, and armand, desperately trying to lie, to convince, to make louis stagger so that they'd once again end up on the same side.

different feelings, different states of mind, different motivations.

now, we all know how vampires die most of the time: sun exposure, right? and what was right in the middle of the room, as present as a third entity? the sun, keeping them apart, even if, for the seventy years that followed, louis had granted armand his forgiveness, however never whole, after the latter had lied to him about his implications in the trial, and therefore, in the death of his beloved daughter.

but alsoooooo. one thing that i keep hearing is armand being a seventy year rebound for louis, and while i do agree with that statement, i also feel like that postburningodowntheatredesvampires paris apartment scene showcases that very aspect of their relationship well. two people who will never be able to fully merge, to fully meet, to be one, because they'll forever be set apart by the sun, by death. the death of louis and lestat (the real soulmates, after all) after that scene in magnus’ lair. the death of claudia, as orchestrated by armand, even if unknown at the time, remains still in the midst of their closeness, their proximity clouded by that energy, those lies. louis flew toxicity only to make his home in a manipulator's, a liar's warm, welcoming, yearning arms, only to realize that the abuse had shape shifted. a relationship built on lies and fragments of memories can never last forever, after all. and while lestat isn't that much better, (and boy am i not getting into this conversation today!!!!), he is louis’s love. one and only real love, bound together by the unique maker creation red string of fate, by shared dreams, promises, tragedies, and a daughter. who (arguably) died at their hand, but first and foremost, in front of their eyes. anne rice's characters will always be toxic, part vile, part good, but always fucked, and everyone has their own interpretation of why these two or these two belong together: that was mine, heavily shortened.

now, if we take a peek (not too long or i’ll curl up in a ball and die), at the loustat reunion scene, yes, as in, those ten minutes of emotional torture, what do we hear? the almost ominous sound of windy weather. yeah, nature was having a breakdown too lmfao.

This Odette, said to be at least a three. Could be a four.

typical new orleans: a hurricane is on its way. and louis du pointe du lac has business to tend to. he's eternal. all is well. he sees the rat killing sketchy gangstpire, follows him, dives into whatever the hell remains of lestat’s lair, they talk, they bawl, they embrace each other like two star-crossed fucking lovers who haven't touched each other in a millenium… and the hurricane outside, odette’s introduction, grows stronger. the windowpanes rattle, clatter, sirens are heard from the streets, the wind only grows stronger, fiercer. and amidst all that chaos, that upcoming destruction, they stand as one, in the middle of it all, holding onto one another.

if loumand were to forever have that fossé, that gap between the two of them, loustat were the opposite. hurricanes bring death and havoc, but those two things were keeping them together. they saw death, gave death, offered death to strangers, to one another at a certain point, and that is what their love is about, in the end. lies and death kept louis and armand seemingly apart, but louis and lestat built their relationships on death, mourning their daughter’s demise and their love’s revival in the middle of a damn hurricane. loumand's relationship was always headed towards its death, its extinction, as if the bricks were meant to crack sooner or later, as if that sun ray would have lured them in and set the whole thing ablaze, then to dust. but loustat were always meant to find each other again, in my most humble opinion, fighting the chaos side by side.

know your soulmates, folks.

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

[diagonal-queen]

hey girlyyyy ❗❗❗ why do i feel like im bothering you when its quite literally just a request box🧍

but anyway !!! Following with the previous request of meeting with chuuya after years. Can i ask for like, a glimpse of their relationship? Like they're keeping it a secret from both their agencies so they have to be sneaky to meet each other like silly little lovers💗🤞😭😭

sakjhjkhfahfsh oh my god nahhh the sillies 🙈 you are never bothering me by sending me an ask. i am a pathetic and lonely creacher and i kick my silly little legs and let out my horrendus little giggles whenever someone sends me an ask. i am elated every time.

Star-Crossed

♡ pairing: Chuuya Nakahara x gn!Reader

♡ synopsis: Romeo and Juliet, but you and Chuuya aren't as fucking stupid as those kids were. (sorry, I'm just having a goof- you and Chuuya are navigating secretly dating while being members of opposing groups)

♡ wc: 1.6k

♡ cw: Reader and Chuuya flirt and talk about sex (they're a couple guys. C'mon now), swearing.

note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHUUYA!! Good timing for me to finish this one hey? lol I hope you enjoy it! Apologies for errors- maybe I should write a Chuuya birthday thing?

Part 1 (you don't have to read it but it provides context for this)

Chuuya had gotten there before you. He was sitting on a bench across the footpath from the restaurant, absentmindedly on his phone. It was no fancy place, one may say casual or even rustic. But once, a long time ago as teenagers, Chuuya had taken you there one evening when you were feeling down and you'd enjoyed yourself enough to decide that it would be a good place to go back to. Maybe get the same meals as that time, and recreate some cherished memories.

You stood around the corner of the block, making sure that there weren't too many witnesses around. You'd gone through a world of effort to conceal your relationship with the mafioso. You'd changed his contact name, turned off your notifications and even made sure to eradicate all traces that you two spent time together, which hurt the most of all. You felt that just a simple picture of the two of you wasn't asking too much.

The two of you seldom contacted one another during work hours. Considering the Agency tended to work within the daytime while the Port Mafia took over the night, you didn't have much time to communicate with one another, much less meet up in person. When you did, you both had to be cautious that none of your coworkers were around. It had gotten exhausting rather quickly, but the two of you continued to try nonetheless.

Weekends were really the only days that you could sometimes see one another. That's why, on an overcast Sunday, you and Chuuya had decided to go on a lunch date together. You were mostly sure that you wouldn't be bumping into any other Agency members, and yet you scurried along the street like a cautious mouse.

You called his name, and when he turned and saw you he smiled.

"How are you?" You asked him as you approached. He stood up and pulled you into his embrace once you reached him.

"I'm glad to see you, baby."

"You ought to be! It took so much effort to get here without rousing suspicion," you whined, pulling away and squeezing his shoulders. Chuuya cocked an eyebrow at you.

"Huh? Have you told them anything?"

"They're detectives, Chuu!" you responded, giving him a nudge. "It's hard to keep a secret when you're surrounded by detectives all the time. I'm pretty sure Ranpo knows already- or at least he's caught on to the fact that I'm seeing someone."

"...who?"

"Y'know, the one with the hat and cape...he trapped you in a book once?" Chuuya pursed his lips and nodded. "He's a genius."

"I know," he sighed. "At least Dazai doesn't know...probably."

"Nah, he doesn't," you confirmed, "If he did, he'd have brought it up with me by now. And I dunno how I'm gonna approach that conversation at all."

"Just give me a call when it happens. I'll beat the shit out of him," he muttered, sourly. You giggled, pulling him back into your arms.

"I can always count on you, can't I?"

"'Course you can, babe," he pressed a kiss to your cheek. "Sorry you gotta go through all that, by the way."

"I can't imagine it's much easier in the Port Mafia? Y'know, to be dating an Agency member."

"Eh, it's not so bad when you're an executive." He shrugged with a sigh. You cast him a mischievous grin.

"Oh, yeah. I keep forgetting you're all authoritative and strong like that," you teased. Chuuya blinked, before he wrapped his arm around your waist.

"Forgetting? Maybe I should jog your memory." You narrowed your eyes at his suggestive tone.

"Oh? How so?" You smirked. Chuuya tapped his lips.

"Hm...got any more kinks I don't know about?"

"Keep it in your fuckin' pants, Chuu!" You laughed, swatting his arm. "Imagine if there were children here."

"If you keep encouraging me there might well be," he retorted, and you gasped.

"You're a goddamn menace." Chuuya chuckled at your blunt statement. "Ah...anyway, we should go inside. We'd be less conspicuous that way, and we've been loitering around here long enough as is."

He nodded, and you both went inside. After entering the door Chuuya opened for you, the scent of the place filled your nostrils and it was like you'd visited for the first time. You stood in the entranceway for a moment, a small smile formed on your lips.

"Something wrong?" Chuuya asked, passing you and shutting the door. You shook your head.

"No, nothing's wrong," you quickly replied before taking a step forward. "It's just...been a while."

"...it has, yeah," Chuuya agreed, placing his hand on your back. "Glad to be back here."

~ ~ ~

Fifteen minutes flies by so fast when you're enjoying your time. Fifteen minutes with Chuuya felt more like fifteen seconds. You'd ordered your food, caught up on each others' recounts of the past week, Chuuya made an obligatory complaint about Dazai, and then Chuuya's phone rang twice.

The first time he'd just ignored it, and you'd tried to do the same, but the second time he let out an aggravated breath and pulled it out of his pocket, eyes briefly flickering towards the screen which you didn't have the time to get a good peek at. Chuuya glanced at you, both apparently frustrated and apologetic.

"Sorry, hon. I have to take this one, but I'll make it quick, alright?"

"It's okay, don't worry about it." You smiled as you said this, but your facade dropped once he disappeared to take the call. You didn't blame Chuuya for being busy, but lamented the fact that the two of you couldn't seem to spend any amount of time together uninterrupted. It was almost as if everybody really did know about your relationship and were doing all they could to keep it apart.

He was back before long, taking his seat across from you at the table and letting out an exhale.

"Did something bad happen?"

"Nah, just got into a bit of an altercation. Managed to sort it out though, so it's fine. Nothing to worry about." Chuuya placed his hand atop yours. "Where were we?"

"...I think you were bitching again. About Dazai?" You replied, balancing your hand on your palm with a grin.

"'Again'?"

"Yep. It's your favourite thing to do, right?"

"Besides you..." he mused, and you bit back a laugh. "I'd say so. But I can't help it. You know that best, don'tcha?"

"He's still lazy at the Agency. In fact, he's probably gotten worse. Sometimes I have to physically force him to come with me when we have jobs together," you rolled your eyes. "That being said though, he can be so overbearing sometimes, fuck's sake."

"Eh, if I were him I'd be protective of you too. Maybe the single thing I can't blame him for, actually," Chuuya scowled, taking a sip of water. "Wish I could spend as much time with you as he does, though. That might be nice..."

As you acknowledged that sentiment, an idea popped into your head. You suddenly sat upright.

"You and I should go on a trip. A road trip, or a vacation or something like that."

"A trip?" He repeated, confused.

"Mm. We wouldn't have to worry about anybody seeing us, and we'd be able to relax and actually spend time together," you explained. "We could even just...go camping or something. That's not that expensive, right? We'd have to travel pretty far, though..."

"I'd be willing to go anywhere as long as you're there," Chuuya shrugged. You turned to him, before smiling.

"That's adorable of you, sweetie."

"Money wouldn't be an issue. It's the time I'm worried about, and how we'd both be able to leave at the same time without suspicion," he continued.

"I just called you adorable and you're gonna go ahead and ignore me?" You scowled, folding your arms over your chest. "I see how it is."

"Aw, sorry babe. I didn't mean for it to come across like that," he apologised, taking your hand and pressing his lips to your knuckle. "I'm just concerned, that's all."

"I know, I get it..." you gave him a sad smile. "I wish we didn't have to be like this. I get so jealous when I see couples together out and about. I want that to be us!"

"Maybe one day. Just...not today though. Neither of us can afford it right now, y'know?" He murmured. "I would want absolutely everybody around me to know that you're my partner. If it wouldn't put you in danger, I mean."

"You're that proud of me, huh?" You queried, rubbing your thumb over Chuuya's gloved hand. He looked at you as if that were a stupid question.

"'Course I am. I can't really show it now, but I promise I am," he answered sincerely, staring into your eyes. "Okay?"

"...I'll choose to believe you for now," you replied, sarcastically. "But one day you better prove it in the most dramatic and flamboyant way possible, got it?"

Chuuya smiled. "I'd give you the whole world if you asked for it, Y/N."

"Oh, maybe that's a little too dramatic," you hastily replied. "...maybe we should just stick to dinner dates for now, m'kay?"

"Whatever you'd like, baby. I'll just save the world for another time."

taglist~ ♡ @gettinshiggywithit, @fedyushka, @flower-of-darkness

and thank you @bibilovedit for the request!

[wordy-little-witch]

Hellooo how are you? i just wanna ask wat r ur nsfw headcanons abt crossguild polycule😳

Also i love ur posts❤️

Hiya, honey bee! I'm doing alright, all things considered, thanks for asking, lovely ♡ just sleepy lmaooo

Cross guild my beloved aaaa okay so I'm gonna put the NSFW ones under a cut bc of the content warnings~

Thanks for the ask, I appreciate you!!!!! And thanks for reading, hun ♡ drink water, have a snack if you can, take any medicine you have prescribed and stay safe ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

18+ BELOW vvv

Okay NSFW stuff lezzgo. I am. Genuinely debating doing the consent charts here for each of them, then a layered one with them compared to each other.

Keep in mind, these are my head canons, and I adore when they're different takes and opinions, I think variety is awesome ♡♡♡♡

So let's start with the biggest of our guild boys!!

Crocodile:

FTM, Top surgery done in his early adult years through a series of oddly aligning events, bottom surgery looked into but rendered unneeded via Ivankov's hormones

Likes/Preferences

This man is a SWITCH, he usually Doms and prefers topping, coming from some older dysphoria issues, but honestly? Is open to submitting and bottoming to others when the need arises on a case by case basis.

Not exactly vanilla, but sometimes the intimacy there is nice.

Is fairly ace-spec, all things considered, sees sex as not a need but something enjoyable. Doesn't always even get off during sex, just enjoys the power and rush he gets from his partners. Took a very long time to realize that for himself. Sex positive!

Sadomasochist. Prefers causing the pain, but scratching and biting are HELLA approved for him

Marks marks marks

Idk if there's and actual word for it, but Crocodile LOVES dressing his partner up in finery just to ruin them. Also discovered an additional kink there which will be talked about later on. (See mixed)

He has wild stamina and ca go maybe three rounds before he needs to stop or pause.

Objectively the best at eating out, can and will make one partner moan out loud and the other outright cry.

Mihawk

Cis (?) insofar as he's a man by technicality. He is a SWORDSMAN by choice. He identifies as a threat, and that is not for ironic jokes. Honestly, to Mihawk gender feels complicated and stupid. 0/5 stars, hates it. He could not be paid to give a fuck about that sort of thing beyond his immediate people's happiness.

On that note, also doesn't care what parts someone has or what they identify as. If he likes you, he likes you, that's all there is. Doesn't use labels. Does admit to being more oredominantly attracted to masculine individuals. It is simply Mihawk and The Vibe.

Onwards to the thoughts!!!!

True Switch. Doesn't care. Enjoys dominating, enjoys submitting, likes topping, likes bottoming, but it's a case by case and person by person basis.

Choking. Idk, but something about holding someone by the throat and feeling their skin and muscles and heartbeat under his fingers gives him a rush, I bet.

Not particularly into sadism or masochism specifically, but does enjoy some of the semi-connected things. Knife play is a given, as well as blood play, and ironically hot wax

Trust is big to him.

Sensory play.

Has a personal rule that his partner has to cum at least once before he even thinks about his own pleasure unless that's the pre-established play they're doing that scene.

On that front - service top/service bottom.

Praise and degradation kink, surprisingly enough

Breeding kink

He Will Bite. With consent of course.

Really enjoys edging and teasing his partners. Doesn't like it as much for himself but doesn't DISlike it either.

Disinterest kink, he likes to make his lovers beg for attention and feigning disinterest.

Cockwarming.

Something about making a mess in the bedroom is simply PERFECT for him.

Honestly, Mihawk is down to try anything at least once and isn't too surprised to find new things that he enjoys.

Stamina is INSANE, but goes about one round, maybe 2, before needing to step back. Dw though, he's not leaving. He can ruin someone with more than just that option.

Buggy

AFAB masc nonbinary, no surgeries, Iva's hormones do not work on him, and he makes his own. Had a partial hysterectomy as a child before his Devil Fruit due to a... bad situation. Has numerous scars as well from before then and even a few after when he was learning the limits of his Fruit and the partial immunity to Haki.

Could top, hypothetically, but really does enjoy bottoming more. Will try topping if a partner really wants it, but feels weird and awkward the whole time - only realized that doing it despite his discomfort was not only not healthy but the partners who pushed and pushed for it from him were pushing the boundaries of consent at best. ((Had to talk Mihawk out of hunting the people down for a Talk, had to convince Crocodile and surprisingly Daz out of adding some extra bounties for it ((they still did))))

Will dom!! Enjoys being a power bottom honestly. Subbing is a guilty pleasure he rarely got to indulge in due to his absolutely insane trust issues, but once Mihawk and Crocodile earned that trust from him, he'll be the sweetest or brattiest sub on this planet, just for them

Really good with his mouth.

He's a screamer. Tries to stay quiet but never can on his own.

He falls apart sometimes during intense sex.

He's mortified by it, but he has a daddy kink and the first time he called one of his partners daddy he didn't even realize until Mihawk grabbed him by the neck just so, squeezed, forcing his head to tilt back and see blazing gold and molten violet just for someone to growl "cum for daddy, baby" and his vision went white. He was flustered for DAYS after that. ((Their light hearted teasing did not help, nor did their exploitation of the newly found On Button))

Exhibition kink but not publicly

Breeding kink

Size queen

Likes being manhandling

BIG on being marked up and claimed. ((11/10, would wear a collar if it could stay on permanently))

Together

Neither Crocodile or Mihawk had any opinion on makeup until Buggy - when they get to a certain point with his mascara and eyeliner running, lipstick smudged, eyeshadow casting his face in technicolor bruises, they are besotted and burning in equal measure.

Crocodile finds he apparently has a THING for his lovers in lace, something found purely by circumstance and he felt foolish for not ever noticing before. Is equally flustered when they both use it against him.

After Buggy's moment with calling them Daddy, something Awakened in Croc and Hawk. Words like Sir and Master were familiar but this? Ohhhh it hits Different.

They're all pretty partial to BDSM but they also can be really vanilla too. It's cute and sweet.

Buggy's thigh thighs get their own section ♡

Alright that's all I have rn but I hope you enjoyed!!!!