#it was so awkward and they obviously denied it but i gave them the opportunity to resubmit...but now im going to have to talk to everyone

[dreaminterlude]

i had to talk to a student today that might have been using chatgpt to write their discussion posts 😵‍💫

[sweetnans]

"K', new situation"

The remote was out of your reach because you kept pausing the shows, and Katsuki had enough of watching every episode like there was a connection problem.

"Hit me," he said, resting his head on the wall of your dorm.

It became a habit that you and him watched shows together at your dorm, every Thursday night, no excuse. Last week, you started watching "Queen Charlotte," and even though Katsuki didn't want to watch the show, you convinced him to give it a chance, and now, he was the one who didn't want you to pause it.

"What if...-no, no, ok, let me start over." You tripped on your questions, and Katsuki found it adorable. "Imagine this, you are royalty and someone with more power than you, force you to marry someone you don't know...are you following me?" You paused at his quizzed face.

"Yeah, I am," he simply answered.

"So they force you to marry someone you don't know and you have no interest in. What would you do?"

"Mm, I would probably cheat on her multiple times, make her so unhappy, and be a dick of a husband," he side eyed you while answering because he couldn't get his eyes off of the screen and because he wanted to watch you freaking out at his answer. He could do both.

"Are you serious?" You couldn't believe what was coming out of his mouth. "Jesus, Katsuki, what an asshole"

You stomped to his body and reached the remote to put the show on pause.

"Not again. Why do you do this to me?" He whined. He was getting upset, but you were more upset because he wasn't taking serious the situation game.

"Why are you like that? Don't you think that maybe an arrangement marriage is the perfect occasion to find true love? You obviously skipped a step, but now you have all the time in the world to know a person, the details, the way they like their tea in the morning, the things that make them upset. I think it's lovely and romantic. " You day dreamed, and Katsuki couldn't bear the fact that you and him were so different. He liked it, finding a way to make opposites attract situations happened in his life.

"I think it's opposite ends. There's only two ways to go. It's extremely good or extremely bad"

"Yeah, you're right," you gave in. He was the one who didn't believe in love after all. You've had multiple boyfriends in the span of two years, always falling for the jerks, like Katsuki always said, but you never denied the opportunity of starting over. You put the show again and sank on your spot.

Your quietness made Katsuki uncomfortable. You spent the rest of the episode without pusing the show, not for situation game or going to pee and that was very weird of you.

Before the next episode started, Katsuki himself paused it.

"You didn't like what I said," he stated looking at you.

You were dissociating, actually, you weren't mad at him, you were just thinking about him, about how you were feeling towards his feelings, you were upset because you knew that If you had feelings for him (that you already had) he wouldn't give himself a chance with you and you would be head over heels for him, making the situation unfair to you and your feelings. What you were thinking wasn't any close to the situation that you gave him. It wasn't something settled between you and him. It was more about his vision of love, the opposite ends example.

"No, it's not that it's just -" you sighed. You didn't want to make things awkward between Katsuki and you. You found a steady ground where you could enjoy each other's company without making it any weird. "I don't know, Bakugo."

He seemed astonished.

"Mm, last name basis now, huh? Must be something serious. " he moved from his seat to put his figure in front of you. "Use your words, I know you can fucking talk"

Sometimes, he called yourself for eating his ear off because you couldn't shut up. He was trying to make you feel comfortable with him again.

"See, it's just... I'm feeling kinda worried about you because I've never seen you with someone else. I want you to find love, to be happy, to face love, and dare to take a chance on someone, you know? And maybe I'm misunderstanding things here, and you don't want any of that. " You stumble through your words, taking his face in. He looked like he was thinking, but his eyes were analyzing your face like it was the first time he ever saw you. "I don't want you to think that I'm pitying you -"

"I do want to experience love," he said, glancing briefly to your lips and then your eyes. "And maybe I'm just waiting for the right one," he muttered, getting closer to you.

You were stoic in your place. Thoughts running in your head, the gears in your brain trying to figure what was happening and if it was just a dream. Maybe you were just imagining things, and now you feared to take the wrong step.

"You do?" You asked, feeling his presence in your space asking whatever came to your mind so you could have more time to think about this situation.

"Yeah, but she keeps dating assholes"

He grinned a little, trying to give away the slightest clue about his feeling but the exact amount of it so you could realize what he was saying.

For his own luck, you were pretty clever sometimes.

"Well, maybe, no one ever showed her better." You squeezed yourself between his legs while he was still sitting with his legs crossed. He parted his legs at your movement and grabbed your waist to keep you close. "I dated assholes because you were too busy demonstrating you didn't care when I dated them"

"Is that so?" He asked humming.

"Yeap," you nodded like a child, playing with your hands in your lap, concentrating in them.

"I'm sorry for not interrupting sooner," he moved his head to his side, trying to catch your eyes.

"You better be," you told him, giggling. It was an unexplored field. You were distracting yourself for the upcoming event.

"We haven't even kissed yet, and you already have an attitude with me? Get a fucking grip" he joked while taking your hands apart.

"Jeez, you should check yourself and look for the stick that's up in your asshole. You are so dense sometimes. "

You pushed him slightly, and he tugged your hands against his chest, caging you without any escape routes.

"Just shut the fuck up"

Without any warning, he crashed his lips against yours with feverish force. His grip in your hands fell so he could touch every part of your body thoroughly. Your arms clinged behind his back, closing the gap between the two of you. Your fingers touched the nape of his neck, tugging his hair every time he bit your lips.

You two were out of air, so you were forced to step back a little. His nose touched yours, and he gave you soft pecks in your lips before opening his mouth.

"No more dating assholes" he warned.

"Mmhm," you nodded, biting your lip. "You better stop acting like one then"

Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt 10

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series

A/N: the calm before the multi 21 lore. are you ready for it??? i would like to know how you guys feel about this

Taglist: @spideybv28@randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @khaylin27 @0710khj @its-elias-world @vizzzashley @allisonwoods @taytaylala12 @miarabanana @ceciii-b @lindsayjoy444

2012, Winter break (December)

Even if Y/N was set on confessing after the Brazilian GP, she couldn't find Sebastian anywhere. She was a little bit upset by the loss of opportunity but Jenson assured that there may be another chance to do that again.

It was Christmas Eve when Sebastian Vettel appeared in front of her apartment. She was shocked that when she returned home after her morning jog, Sebastian was sitting outside her apartment door with a duffel bag. It gave her a deja vu of when Sebastian first won his WDC and he was out there waiting for her in her childhood home.

"You could have called me, what if I wasn't here"Y/N reprimanded.

"I called Michael and he told me the trip wasn't due till January. You are obviously not with Jenson as he is spending Christmas with his family. You are also not going home because I don't think you made up with your brother yet"Sebastian enumerates with a grin.

"You know everything about me, don't you"Y/N shakes her head.

"Well there are some things I still don't know about you"

Y/N frowned. With the amount of time spent together, it was obviously weird for Sebastian to miss out some details about her life especially with how attentive and updated Sebastian can be.

"Then go and ask away so you can satiate your curiosity" Y/N gave a green signal.

"This is more than the usual question and answer portion Y/N" Sebastian's tone was serious.

It was another rare occurrence. Sebastian was always the guy that laces his words with lightheartedness and some cheeky remarks. Seeing him go into his serious mode made Y/N put down her cup of hot choco.

"You know you could tell me anything"Y/N confirms.

Of course, Sebastian doesn't know it but Y/N is panicking. She wonders if Sebastian had already picked up her feelings and what if he doesn't reciprocate them. Things can go very awkward between them real quick.

"I wanted to ask something, please don't lie and just be real"Sebastian started "How do you feel about me?"

The blunt statement has Y/N taking a step back. She could hear a pin drop between the silence of the two of them. Sebastian seems to be waiting her answers and she was too scared to say the wrong words.

"You're my bestfriend Sebastian" the safest answer she could produce

"I know that but.."Sebastian closed his eyes "isn't there anything else you feel for me?"

What does he want me to say, Y/N mentally asked herself. She wonders if Sebastian was baiting her to tell her feelings. She is overthinking how this is all a very bad idea to do especially when Christmas is just a few hours away. Y/N couldn't simply deal with being heartbroken on Christmas day.

"Listen Y/N-"

"Seb I-"

The two chuckled as the tensions dwindles with the way they both spoke at the same time. It was like a perfectly timed comedy joke between the two of them.

"Let me go first and then I'll hear you out"Sebastian took the lead.

Y/N noticed how Sebastian's proximity has been closer with the way he gently held her hands. Her heart was pumping because she might be onto something special.

"I love you a lot"Sebastian laid it out, plain and simple.

"It has been a while since I harbored feelings for you. I am a coward and I have spent so many months and years trying to deny my feelings or running away from them but in the end I ended up looking for you every single time. Its you and it has always been you"

The words were english but it seems so foreign for Y/N's ears. She felt as if she was in an alternate reality because it seems unreal that Sebastian reciprocates her feelings.

"You like me?"Y/N repeated

"Like seems to be an understatement when I have been pining for you for years"Sebastian shyly admits "I think I love you now"

Her eyes looked at him to see if there was any malice or any false sense of hope that she can detect. She couldn't find any as his eyes were speaking to her genuinely.

Is this what love feels like?

"I understand that this is a lot for you to take in and I won't force things to work out if you are not ready. I am willing to wait and I am willing to make an effort to show you that I am sincere with my wishes"Sebastian started to ramble.

It was a funny sight because the usual overconfident driver was in a mess of words in front of a girl. Y/N gave him a kiss on the cheeks to assure him.

"I have feelings for you Seb"Y/N confessed "I have tried to tell you how I feel but it never seems to be a good timing and now you beat me to it"

Y/N could swear that Sebastian's pupils went wider as she was speaking. The look of disbelief in Sebastian's point of view is visible with his facial reaction.

"So are we like now together?"Sebastian awkwardly asked

There was still the pressing matter that Y/N's family is Mark aka Sebastian's teammate and his rival. It was still a little bit complicated if they will add the relationship into the mix.

"We can take this slow right?"Y/N wondered "I just don't want to rush things with all the tensions and problems"

Sebastian has already resigned with that idea that he has to keep the relationship on the low. But he was contented with that because now he knows how the both of them feel.

"We will take it slow then"

2013, Winter break (January)

"There is something different about the two of you"Michael noticed.

Sebastian felt like a deer caught in a headlights when his idol has suddenly popped out of the blue and had a pensive expression on his face.

"Maybe we are just adjusting to the alps altitudes" Sebastian joked.

Michael's eyes darted between Sebastian and Y/N. As a racing driver, it was like a second nature for him to be attentive of his surroundings as the slightest change could mean a lot to the whole competition. He believes that his years as a driver has given him keen insights to know if some relationships changed or leveled up.

"You confessed"Michael realized.

The evident blush on Sebastian was enough confirmation that Michael needs. He was absolutely thrilled by this information and he couldn't wait to tell his family all about it. They have been rooting for them for years.

"It happened Christmas eve and it sort of happened"Sebastian explains "But we're not currently with the labels as we are taking it slow so Mark doesn't freak out too much when we tell him"

"Tell me you confessed first"

"I did, how did you know that?"Sebastian was confused.

Michael just let out a loud laugh. He may have to call some of the grid drivers to tell them that they better prepare their money as they have lost big time. He was fairly certain that Sebastian would be the one to initiate a conversation and confess first.

"Good to hear, you just made a lot of us happy"

For Sebastian, it just felt surreal how he is conversing about Y/N as a special lady in his life. He felt giddy by the thought of it as he longingly looks at Y/N, who was currently playing with Gina and Mick.

"You are so down bad for Y/N"Michael observed "Young love"

"Was this how it feels when you met Corinna?"

When Sebastian tells you that Michael is his idol, he means that in every aspect. He admires him as a fantastic racing driver, as a family man, and even as a loving partner. He wanted to gain some insights as he didn't want to fuck up his relationship and Michael seems to have a good standing with how Corinna and him are going strong after all these years.

"How do you two manage your relationship?"Sebastian asked.

"I am very lucky as Corinna is very understanding and she would always love me through the good times and bad times. Being in a relationship with a driver is difficult as everything is placed under deep scrutiny but Corinna she loves me too much to be afraid of that"

Michael sits up straight as he felt like he was giving important life advices to his younger self.

"You really like Y/N, don't you?" Michael knew the answer to this.

"I love her at this point Michael"Sebastian's voice has no ounce of hesitation.

"Then let me tell you that you should always cherish her"Michael pointed out "Be loyal to her and fight for her. You never know what's coming but do this and its a guarantee that it will work out"

Their gaze drifted back to Y/N who was engaged in a snow fight with the kids. The thought in Sebastian mind crosses about maybe one day he will have kids of their own and they'll be having family trips like this with the Schumachers.

"If you two build a family, you better name the first born Michael"the older driver joked.

2013, Circuito de Jerez

It felt like a full circle moment when pre-testing season starts in Jerez. Seems like it was just yesterday that Y/N first encountered Sebastian in this same track and now a lot has changed.

"Penny for your thoughts?"Sebastian asked.

He gave her a kiss on the forehead as he gave her a cup of coffee. There was a certain lightheadedness that Y/N experience with the way Sebastian has been acting lovey dovey to her.

"We met each other in this circuit, do you remember?"Y/N informs.

There was a hint of confusement in Sebastian's face.

"As far as I could recall we first spoke in the Australian Grand Prix" Sebastian pointed out "I never knew you were already an admirer even before that point"

The teasing never seems to stop with Sebastian with his shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

"Go ahead and laugh but I'm not the one who confessed"

"That's fair I guess"Sebastian shrugged.

The two of them enjoyed the sound of the cars going around for the testing proper. It felt crazy how there is another upcoming season before them and Y/N could only pray for the the best.

"How are you feeling?"Y/N wondered "It seems like yesterday you're like that driver without a seat and looking to impress some teams with a single drive"

"Yeah I suppose it can feel weird that my future competitor might be somewhere over there" Sebastian thoughtfully stated.

"I'm sure Red Bull is dominating another season"Y/N is a boost of confidence for Sebastian.

The two of them spent the afternoon together as they watch some F2 drivers test their cars. Different teams definitely noticed the mix of the contrasting orange and navy uniform side by side with each other. It didn't take long before it reached Mark's intel.

2013, Melbourne Grand Prix Circuit

It wasn't until the Australian Grand Prix that Mark was able to meet Y/N in person. He have tried his best to reach out to her during the pre-testing season but she was surrounded by Sebastian or dragged into meetings with McLaren.

He really needs to speak to Y/N because he fears that she might be putting herself in a tricky situation.

"Y/N" The exhausted Mark finally saw her with a group of McLaren mechanics.

There was no Jenson or Sebastian anywhere near her so he might have a chance to speak with her freely.

"We need to talk, this is urgent"Mark's tone was a mix of begging and a command.

"Mark, you are not supposed to be here"one of the mechanics stepped up "Y/N we can call security if you-"

"That won't be necessary Ed, he is my brother and we'll just take a quick walk"Y/N interrupted.

The mechanics looked at Mark before meeting Y/N's gaze once again. They seem to be unsure about letting their employee go to the Red Bull driver regardless if he is her brother. But Y/N gave an okay signal and they left them all alone.

"You haven't spoken me for so long and now you are forcing me to talk to you"Y/N's voice was dull and without any excitement. Clearly she is still hurt by everything that transpired.

"I have been a bad brother, I know that"Mark admitted.

"Thanks for the obvious"

"But I'm here again because I don't want to be bad brother anymore"Mark added "I don't have the guts to see you feel more pain after everything I put you through"

Y/N stops on her tracks, she seems to understand that Mark knows something. She was scared that he might forbid her from forming any further relationship with Sebastian.

"You have to stop seeing Sebastian"

"What?"Y/N was furious "Who gives you a right to who should I and should I not date, this is so low of you Mark"

"Y/N please listen to me, I have my reasons to why you have to do this. Just listen to me"Mark was exasperated.

He is in the mental dilemma of telling her sister the plain truth of what he saw in Brazil. It will definitely crush her to know that she may be a third party in the relationship. Or he could not tell her and allow her to find out herself in the future which means more pain.

She may hate Mark forever but as an older brother he has to do this.

"I have heard you two have been going on and about but believe me Y/N, Sebastian is up to no good"Mark explained.

"You are just saying this without any grounds"

"Would you believe me if I told you things?" Mark rebutted.

There was a silence between them. Mark knew that he lost Y/N's trust a long time ago because of their unnecessary fighting. He doesn't know what he could do to make her trust him again.

"Did he ever tell you about what happened in Brazil 2012?"Mark wondered.

Y/N wavered as she realized that it was also that time that she was looking for Sebastian but he was nowhere to be seen. She felt curious to what Mark is implying with his statements.

"Stop speaking in riddles and tell me"

"You should ask Seb about it"Mark pushed "I cannot witness you to be in more pain than what he puts you through already"

The younger Webber cries out in frustration. She was so sick of Mark speaking vaguely and planting seeds of doubt in her head. She was finally happy and now Mark is ruining everything again.

"I don't understand any of this"Y/N was frustrated "Just tell me what's going on"

"Y/N I'm so sorry but I-"

"This is all just bullshit isn't it"Y/N lashed "You are just saying these things to further complicate things and prevent us from dating. Stop trying to fucking control my life Mark"

The exchanges of words reopened wounds that haven't healed. It was the first time that Y/N saw Mark tear up because of her words and she immediately regretted what she said.

"I am just doing what I know to protect you Y/N. I never meant to hurt you."Mark was fighting his tears but failing "I hope that when you know the truth then you can understand why I am doing this"

"Mark wait.."

But the Red Bull driver already walked away briskly.

[erme-aeterna-arts]

Your characters are cool! I love how you pair Mohre with astarion, so cute! Correct me if I'm wrong but ur durge (even though I'm not sure if they resist or not) gave off some motherly/very caring vibes when I saw ur art. What's ur opinion of dadstarion?? <3

ahh thank you so much!! and for the question as well <3

i wouldn't describe mohre's affection for astarion as motherly, but astarion is definitely very precious to them, and that's what i'm always trying to portray. i think caring so much for someone is very new to mohre, because pre-tadpole they barely had a space for their own identity, let alone anyone other than bhaal in their life. and another thing is that they fear themselves and their own emotions a lot, it's something they struggle with in-game most obviously because of the urge, but even after denying bhaal they still remember that any strong feelings they have bring on suffering and disaster directly or not. mohre also worries about not overwhelming astarion with these intense feelings, because they're just beginning to be more in touch with themselves, would they know how much is too much? so they're always torn between the terrified voice in their head begging to hold back and the need to express all the love and adoration they have for astarion. they do trust astarion to tell them if something's wrong, they trust him to keep them from hurting him, and a huge part of why mohre fell so hard for him is that he believed they wouldn't. they're so surprised by being in love and being able to show it, but it's still their journey for post-game, to learn to also trust themselves to do so, if that makes sense.

as for dadstarion, i don't really see mohre or astarion as parents tbh. they both have pretty messed up experiences with "family", their lifestyle (adventuring) doesn't really provide opportunity for raising kids, and getting their own kids would also mean passing their respective curses onto them. the latter would be especially acute for mohre, since it's likely the child would be born with the urge despite mohre's resisting it (if you let sarevok live and resist bhaal, he sends a letter to the withers party, from which it's pretty clear it would happen), and they wouldn't accept the risk of handing a child to bhaal. i also just think astarion and mohre's plan for post-game adventures is to see the world, learn of all the things they were denied, what they might enjoy, parenthood isn't really there.

however, given astarion's immortality and mohre's potential jergal-sponsored one, i can imagine them ending up with some child they rescued on their hands during one of their adventures. i think it would be a temporary situation, but that's as close as it would get to dadstarion. being exposed to the cruelty of the world and being helpless to stop it and having done nothing to deserve is what being a child is about, and that's why mohre and astarion tend to help those kids they meet, why they make an effort to be nice to them, teach them to lie and defend themselves. but for astarion this protectiveness is mixed with guilt over the gur children, he aways knows that even while he's helping at the moment he's been that threat before, the guilt is always there. so he would prefer to avoid the reminder altogether. mohre, on the other hand, is vaguely aware that they didn't discriminate in their kills during their time as the chosen, so the desire to keep themselves away rears its head once in a while, but in this case what's more prominent is that they just don't know what to do with kids. they know their experiences are uncommon, they know these are not something to base your interactions with kids on, so it's just kind of awkward for them most of the time. they're a bard, they know how to seem delightful, but not how to actually mean that. so mohre and astarion would just hand each other the duty of dealing with the child (to their mutual bafflement, "do you think i know how to do this?") and try their best, and the child in question would think them both kind of weird (and mohre more so) but funny and safe.

[the-bau-quinjet]

Please Don't

Summary: Hotch and Y/N have been pining for each other but everything changes after they go undercover for a case.

Warnings: Criminal Minds level violence, angst

Word Count: 2289

a/n: Thank you for this request!! I love a good Hotch moment. I hope you like it!

Masterlist

"Alright ladies! Here's the first round." Emily smiled as she set the four glasses down in front of you all.

Girl's night had just started. It being Penelope's turn to pick the nights events meant you, Emily, and JJ were in for a long night of bar hopping.

"Yes!!!" Penelope nearly screamed, grabbing her drink and taking a large gulp. "First question of the night goes to Y/N."

Your eyes widened as everyone turned to look at you. Whatever game Penelope was trying to play was clearly not going to go well for you.

"Oh, God. What is it?" You grimaced, eyes flitting between the three of them.

"When are you going to do something about your crush on Hotch?" Emily wasted no time in getting into the hard hitting questions.

"And don't even bother denying it! It's so painfully obvious." JJ added on, eyeing you skeptically.

"First of all, rude. Second of all, fine. I have a hopeless crush on our boss. Are you happy now?" You playfully glared, knowing there was no use in even trying to pretend.

"So? When are you going to do something about it?" Penelope was giddy, always one to celebrate new relationships.

"Uh, never." You deadpanned.

"Why not?" She whined in response.

"Pen, he's my boss for one. Plus it's highly unlikely he feels the same. I mean, how would I even bring that up?" You shook your head, trying to avoid the conversation.

"Y/N, Hotch is totally into you-" Emily's rant was cut off by the sounds of all of your phones buzzing.

You all shared a glance before confirming your suspicions.

"Another girl's night cut short." You shook your head. "Who needs a ride?"

The four of you quickly made your way out of the bar before piling into your car and heading to the Bureau.

-

"Damn ladies, looking good." Derek greeted you when you piled into the elevator together.

You hadn't thought about changing before coming in. None of you were wearing anything wildly inappropriate. Your outfit was just a bit more form fitting than a typical day in the field required.

"Thanks Derek." You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the elevator and immediately heading for the conference room.

Aaron's eyes were on you almost instantly. He always looked for you first when a new case came in.

"You ever gonna tell her?" Rossi asked from next to him.

"I have no idea what your talking about." Hotch kept his face neutral despite knowing there was no real point in denying it to Dave.

"I see the way you look at her. You know, I see the way she looks at you too. you deserve to be happy, Aaron." He replied easily, a smirk on his face as he took a seat in the conference room.

Hotch merely shook his head, trying to supress the smile forming at the idea of you returning his feelings.

He quickly moved on to debrief the team ultimately telling everyone to meet at the jet.

-

Three days later, another couple was dead, and you were no closer to catching the guy.

"Wait, there's a new pattern." Reid jumped up, pointing out the abduction sites on the map. "He's moving south, alternating between 11th and 14th Street. Each abduction happened at a different club on those streets. If he follows pattern the next abduction will be tonight at Cameo." He pointed out the next club on the map.

"So we'll stakeout the club, stop him before he gets another couple." Morgan suggested.

"We can't risk a takedown inside the club." Hotch ran a hand over his face.

"What if two of us go undercover? Pretend to be a couple and then we can stop him when he tries to abduct us." You suggested a new plan.

"That could work." Dave added on, sending you a nod. "You and Hotch fit his victimology."

"What d'ya say, Hotch?" Your heart was beating rapidly, but you refused to let it show. "Wanna go on a date?" You playfully nudged his side.

"It's our best plan." He nodded resolutely. "Go with Emily to get something to wear."

You smiled at him before turning to see a mischievous look on Emily's face. She whispered in your ear as you walked out of the room.

"Get ready. Hotch won't be able to keep his eyes off you tonight."

-

"Are you sure I should wear this?" You pulled the dress down a bit, trying to cover more of your thighs.

"Yes. You look amazing, and this is definitely going to catch the eye of our unsub." JJ complimented as she added a few finishing touches to your hair.

"It's just now dawning on me why we don't do undercover work." You flinched away from Emily as she attempted to add a third layer of mascara.

"Oh, hush. This was your idea. Everything will be fine. Better than fine if you're lucky." She winked, capping the mascara and throwing it back into your makeup bag.

"Em, this is work. I'm absolutely not making a move on Hotch while trying to lure an unsub to abduct us." You deadpanned.

"I'm not saying make a move! This is your opportunity to flirt a little and see how he responds." She shrugged casually.

You were about to provide another rebuttal when a knock sounded on the door to the bathroom.

"Y/N, you almost ready?" Derek called from the other side of the door.

"Coming out now!" You nearly ran out before Emily or JJ could try to convince you to flirt with Hotch again.

"Damn, L/N." Derek smiled when you exited the bathroom. "Looking good. You know who else might think so?"

"Can it, Derek. I'm in no mood." You swiftly walked past him. You could hear Hotch arguing with Rossi about something as you walked up to the conference room door.

"Dave, cool it will you?" Hotch rolled his eyes, not noticing you yet.

"I'm just saying Aaron-" He tried again.

"Well, don't." Hotch's playfulness rarely came out on cases, but you could see a glimpse of it in the way he bantered with Dave.

"Ready to go?" You asked from the doorway, putting your comm's device in your ear. You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at the way Aaron looked at you.

"Ready." He gave you a tight smile, diverting his eyes from your tight dress.

"We'll be right outside. All the exits covered." Dave reminded the two of you, nodding as you walked out the door.

-

"Here you go, one vodka cranberry." He winked when he passed the glass over, a subtle reminder about the lack of alcohol coursing through you.

"Thanks." You shifted awkwardly, unsure of what to do now. You'd been by the bar for about an hour, and nobody suspicious had caught your eye.

"Do you want to dance?" You surprised yourself by asking the question, watching as Hotch's eyes widened slightly. "I just, the other couples? Didn't witnesses say they were dancing?" You whispered the last part, obviously trying to limit anyone overhearing your conversation.

"Right. Of course." He looked nervous, but you chalked it up to not doing undercover often.

You lead him to the middle of the dance floor, trying to find the best view of the doors. It took a few minutes of awkward swaying, but the two of you found your rhythm.

"Behind you, there's a man watching us." Hotch whispered in your ear sending a shiver through your spine.

You nodded slightly in response before turning around. You pressed your back to his chest to cover the movement, eyes flitting around the room to observe anyone suspicious.

It didn't take long for you to spot the man Hotch was talking about. You moved your arms up around his neck, pulling his head closer to you so you could whisper to him.

"Got him. How do we get him outside?" You suppressed the urge to grind your hips against Hotch's. It was hard enough to deal with the feeling of his hands on your hips.

He spun you around, pressing your chests close together. Again, he moved his mouth close to your ear to whisper, "we just need to give him a show."

He pressed his lips to yours lightly, waiting for your response. You kissed him back with passion, relishing in the feeling of his lips moving against yours.

Your breath caught in your throat when he pressed a series of light kisses to your neck. You involuntarily tilted your head to the side, giving him more room to work.

"I think we've got his attention. Let's head out the back door." Hotch grabbed your hand, pulling you behind him toward the back of the club.

The cool night air sent a chill through your body, but you didn't have long before the man burst through the door behind you.

Hotch easily overpowered him, knocking the gun from his hands. He pulled handcuffs from his pocket, quickly securing his hands behind his back.

"Morgan, we got him out back." You spoke into your comms, turning slightly when movement in the shadows caught your eye.

"Y/N, get down!" Hotch jumped in front of you just as you heard a gun being fired. He fell into you, slumping against your body. Everything happened so quickly.

"FBI, drop your weapon!" Morgan yelled, running closer to the man in the shadows.

He quickly handcuffed the partner, leading him to a waiting officer while Emily collected the other unsub.

"Aaron?" You looked at him in your arms noticing the blood soaking through his light blue shirt. "I need a medic!" You called down the alley, watching in terror as two medics removed Aaron from your arms.

You were frozen in place as they put him on a gurney and pushed him into a waiting ambulance.

It wasn't until the ambulance was completely out of sight that you realized Reid was talking to you.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" He gestured to the blood on your dress and hands.

You nodded silently, pointing to where the ambulance just was.

"Let's get you to the hospital okay?" He spoke softly, not wanting to add to your distress. He grabbed a shock blanket from a paramedic before leading you to an SUV. Derek and Emily sat in the front, ready to drive as soon as you got in.

You don't remember the ride to the hospital. You don't remember JJ helping you wash the blood from your hands. You don't remember a nurse updating you on Hotch's surgery. You don't remember anything except the look in Aaron's eyes as he bled out in your arms.

"Aaron Hotchner?" The doctor called out into the waiting room. All six of you stood up, eyes fixed on the woman in scrubs. "His surgery was successful. I can take one of you to see him."

The whole team gestured to you, knowing how you felt and how much you needed to see that he was okay.

"Follow me." The doctor lead you down the winding hallways to a recovery room where Aaron was asleep. "He's still under anesthesia for now. It should wear off in a few hours."

You nodded as she left, still unable to form any words as you took in his pale appearance.

"Aaron." You whispered his name, eyes brimming with tears. You pulled the chair as close as you could next to his bed, both hands wrapped around one of his.

You must've fallen asleep because before you knew it, the hand in your grasp was squeezing you back.

"Aaron?" You lifted your head from the side of his bed, eyes focusing on his. "Oh, thank God." You felt the tears brimming again.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm okay." He murmured softly, moving his free hand to wipe your tears.

"No. You're an idiot who jumped in front of a bullet for me." You whispered back, voice breaking.

"I'd do it again." He took no time to craft his response, only causing more tears to fall down your cheeks.

"Aaron-"

"Y/N, I don't have anyone else in my life quite like you. I haven't in a long time." His eyes never left yours as he spoke. "You make me feel like I could be happy again. Like Jack could have two people to provide him unconditional love everyday in his life again. Like maybe, just maybe, I could love someone again. I would jump in front of countless bullets for you because I can't imagine my life without you in it."

"Please don't." You whispered, eyes still watery.

"What?" Hotch could feel his heart breaking at the thought of you not returning his affection.

"Please don't jump in front of anymore bullets for me. I don't think I could survive this feeling again." You took a deep, shuddering breath. "Watching them wheel you away on that gurney... it felt like my heart was being cut open. Aaron, there's not a day that goes by where you don't make me smile. Even if it's just the thought of you. I can't imagine my life without you either."

He continued to wipe tears from your face as you spoke.

"Would now be a good time to ask you out to dinner?" He smiled when you laughed.

"I think now is a great time for that." You smiled, leaning your head into his hand.

"Perfect. So, will you get dinner with me?" He nearly whispered.

"I'd love to." You pressed a soft kiss to his lips before setting back against your chair.

It didn't take long for him to fall back asleep. This time, when you leaned your head against his leg, your heart felt full.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

Criminal Minds taglist:

@mac99martin

@goldeng1rl8

@measure-in-pain

[irrelevantwriter]

Unspoken

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, vaginal fingering, public sex, car sex, unprotected vaginal sex, mild choking, mention of bodily fluids, shitty exes, petty Rio (yaaaass)

Word Count: 5.8K

Summary: Part 6. Feelings were shared. Where does that leave you and Rio? A dinner with your ex? A car in a dark parking lot? 

A/N: The last part is here! Though as I said yesterday I am definitely not calling this the end. I have lots of ideas for Rio and I’ve thought about adding to this in the future as inspiration hits. I’ve also thought about developing a Rio x OFC fic and/or something for Beth x Rio. I’ve had a lot of fun writing and exploring his character so I’m nowhere near close to done. And I also need to shoutout the ladies from the discord for this part. They suggested it and I ran with it (as I do). So big thank you to @woahitslucyylu, @whatupitshuff, and @fvckthisbxtchup! You inspired this. Be proud of yourselves. Anyway, I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

*Read Part 1 here

*Read Part 2 here

*Read Part 3 here

*Read Part 4 here

*Read Part 5 here

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

*********************

He sighed, turning off the engine and checking his phone one last time for messages. The restaurant lot was full, patrons shuffling in and out of the newest establishment in downtown Detroit. It was in a historic building that had obviously recently been renovated, though efforts had been made to keep its old world charm. The restaurant was a place he’d yet to visit and this impromptu pop-up offered the perfect opportunity for him to do so.

Rio exited his vehicle into the cool air of the night. It wasn’t frigid, but it was enough for those outside to don a jacket. He stuffed his hands into his pockets as he made his way to the entrance, noting the stylish fashions of most of the restaurant's occupants. He didn’t worry about the supposed dress code. Wearing black often gave him an air of sophistication, even with the tattoo splashed across his throat. It was a duality he’d mastered over the years. The tattoo kept him grounded to his roots. His nature. His business. The wardrobe kept him aligned with the civilian world. People would often eye his throat warily, suspicion clear in their gaze. But one look at the clean lines of his pressed shirt and somehow they’d come to the conclusion that he’d made a mistake as a young kid. Got involved in the wrong crowd. Hadn’t gotten around to getting the hideous atrocity on his neck removed. They believed what they wanted to believe.

Cowards.

He smiled at the passing elderly couple as he held the door open for them, their smiles making their eyes crinkle at the edges. They probably thought he worked there. He stepped through the threshold, taking in the dim lighting and soothing melody of jazz that filtered through the space. His eyes scanned the open area with practiced diligence until he found what he was looking for amongst the black booths that ran the length of the right wall. They were high and designed for privacy, but he could spot your face anywhere.

The hostess greeted him and he politely gestured to the booth you sat at, easing by the podium as she took a moment to trail her eyes along his body. He smirked at the blatant attempt at flirtation, not bothering to return the sentiment. Instead, he weaved through the aisles of tables as he made his way towards you.

Your brow was tensed, your lips pursed. The discomfort showed on your features, all the way down to your stiffened shoulders. He watched as you took a sip from your wine, nodding along to whatever the person across from you had said. When he came into view, your eyes widened, almost comically so. He grinned, finding your shock amusing. It was the exact reaction he was going for.

“Hey mama, sorry I’m late.” He announced as he made it to the table. He ignored the couple sitting with you and leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, feeling you sway into it despite your obvious surprise.

“Uh...h-hi.” You choked out, shifting over so that he could slip in next to you.

He shed his jacket as he sat down, pulling you close once he’d gotten comfortable. You let him maneuver you, still trying to understand why he was there. He could see the slight panic in your eyes, as if he were here for business purposes, crashing a dinner as a strategic move. But that couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

His eyes finally met Paul’s, your ex, and then slid over to his fiancé’s at his left. They both looked just as stunned as you, except for the displeasure that radiated from Paul’s gaze and onto him. His fiancé, Erica, he thought her name was, looked intrigued; curious about his arrival.

“Sup, man…” Rio greeted, extending his hand for Paul to take. He let it hang in the air for a moment, eyes trying to remain unflinching against his. After only a second, the man broke eye contact. He reluctantly took Rio’s hand and shook it, his palm sweaty and warm.

“Who is this?” Erica questioned after she realized no one was going to introduce him.

“Oh, um...sorry. This is Rio.” You replied shakily, looking at him as if trying to convince yourself that he wasn’t a figment of your imagination.

He noticed your nervousness and rested his left hand on your bare knee, gently squeezing in silent reassurance. He felt you relax immediately, your body uncoiling beside his and once again seeking out his touch.

“Nice to meet you.” Rio smoothly directed to Erica, taking her offered hand. She smiled back in return, her lips painted a vivid pink. It was a harsh shade and one that made her look like she’d been playing dress-up. He knew from the comments you’d made to him that Erica was not the woman you’d caught Paul with during your marriage. It’d been someone different. Someone from his firm. But you’d quickly pieced together that there had been many throughout the years. All slightly younger and the exact opposite to you in appearance.

Rio let his eyes covertly take in the woman across from him. She wasn’t unattractive. But she also wasn’t someone he’d ever think about leaving you for.  

“You’ve met Paul. And this is Erica.” You stated, hand gesturing to the uncomfortable-looking couple across the table.

Rio nodded in their direction, Paul’s stare still unmoving. He sat straight and rigidly, the arm that sat around Erica’s shoulders now taut and awkward looking. He found satisfaction in that. He let his own arm rest comfortably across your shoulders, his fingers dancing along your upper arm in soothing patterns. He felt you shiver in response.

“We didn’t know you were coming.” Erica said with a smile, giggling for whatever reason.

“Oh yeah, last minute change of plans.” He propped his chin into his hand and met your eyes, seeing the relief in them.

You’d told him about the dinner three nights ago when he’d been at your house. He was in your bed, lounging against the headboard after he’d fucked you on the stairs. And then once again on the dining table. You were checking your phone, mumbling curses to yourself when he’d asked you what was wrong. You’d complained about your ex and how he was now suggesting a dinner alone with you and his fiancé to “talk some things over”. The whole thing seemed innocuous enough to him, but you’d insisted Paul had an ulterior motive, which according to you, never meant anything good. You’d been worried ever since. Anxious about having dinner alone with them and dreading the reason he wanted to meet.

Rio had funneled the information out, not giving it much thought because your ex was none of his business. But something had struck him the night before when you’d called. He’d been going over some of his books, mind completely focused on numbers, when his phone rang. You were in the bathtub, voice tinged with ease and alcohol. Just wanted to hear your voice, you’d said. And for some unknown reason, that sliver of vulnerability made his chest feel tight. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it since.

The newest development in your situation was slow-going. After that night in his car and the semi-proclamation of feelings, you’d both taken cues from the other, waiting for someone to speak up and declare...something. None of that had happened though. What had happened was amazing sex on the regular and sporadic outings to dine. He preferred not to call them dates because they really hadn’t been. They were usually moments right after a round of rigorous sex when neither of you had eaten. It was usually a decision agreed upon mutually and without fanfare. Just two people who were hungry and accompanying the other. The barest of human needs. Just like the sex. It was satiation.

But even he knew that there was an underlying current of unsaid words. Which is why your tipsy admission had startled him. For so long you’d both denied what was so obvious. It was practically a subconscious act now. And he realized, as long as he let you dictate the speed, you’d come to him. As long as he didn’t push or ask for more, you’d show up. And you had. So now, so was he.

“Something to drink?” The waiter asked, interrupting the tense moment.

“Vodka on the rocks, please.” Rio replied, the waiter nodding and disappearing into the fray.

“So, Rio…” Paul finally spoke up, clearing his throat as he straightened his tie. It seemed he’d found his voice. “I take it you don’t actually deal with home plumbing.” He said the sentence snidely and with a poignant glance in your direction. “So what is it that you do?” He finished, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

He could feel you tense up beside him.

“I own a couple of businesses.”

“What kind of businesses?” Paul retorted, an eyebrow raised in doubt.

“The kind that do business.”

A moment of silence stretched out as Paul took in the nonanswer. Rio could see the wheels working in his head, see him weighing the pros and cons of arguing with him on the matter. The man opened his mouth, more than likely to continue to probe, but Erica beat him to the punch.

“How’d you guys meet?” She implored with an excited gleam, clearly hoping for a magical meet-cute moment that had never happened.

“Bar bathroom.” Rio said with a smug smile, enjoying the sputtered cough you expelled.

“He means outside of a bar bathroom. We sorta ran into each other.” You hastily lied, biting into your lip when his arm shifted off your shoulders and under the table, landing on your knee once again. He let his palm glide over the swatch of skin afforded to him by your dress, feeling your thighs clench together the higher he got.

“That’s adorable.” Eric chimed in, a genuine smile plastered on her pink lips. The same couldn’t be said for Paul, who looked as if he’d tasted something bitter.

Rio snickered because nothing about what either of you had been doing in the time since you’d met was adorable. It was the exact opposite. And he thrived off of it.

He turned his attention on you, hovering close to your ear, his fingers trailing along your inner thigh as he ignored the other diners at the table. “You good, mama?” He rasped, knowing what the action did to you.

Your eyes weren’t on him. They were shifting anxiously between Paul and Erica, concerned with the proximity of his lips and hand. Of course, they couldn’t see his arm disappearing beneath your dress, but they did notice the intimacy of the moment. Erica’s eyes looked on in admiration while Paul’s darted to anywhere but the two of you.

“Yeah.” You breathlessly replied, your own hand coming to rest on his. You squeezed and then set your gaze on his, reassuring him.

“You sure?”

His eyes flicked to your mouth, the flesh wet from both your lipstick and your tongue. He licked his own as he got lost in thoughts of tasting you.

You nodded, your eyes following the movements of his tongue, seemingly just as entranced as he was.  

The moment was shattered with the waiter bringing Rio’s drink and taking food orders. It was for the better. He couldn’t very well fuck you on the table, though he’d save that fantasy for nights when he couldn’t have you.

Everyone kept the conversion polite and vague, choosing to stay away from certain topics. It was rigid and uncomfortable for everyone involved, unsurprisingly so. The subject transitioned to the kids, upcoming events and appointments being the main points. The food arrived and Rio busied himself with eating an exquisite dinner. The food was delicious and he had a fleeting thought about investing into something like this. He owned the bar and had arrangements with other small businesses, but he’d been hesitant to enter the restaurant realm. It was tricky. There were always new places offering something no other eatery could. He’d have to get with the owner, Joel Pinet. Rio knew him from around the neighborhood. His own bar was only a couple of blocks away and he’d met Joel on more than one occasion, the man a regular in his establishment.

“What’d you mean you won’t be here this summer?”

Your question brought him back to the moment, the irritation in your voice making him alert. His dark eyes settled on Paul as he twirled his fork in his pasta. The action annoyed Rio.

“Erica and I are going to Europe over the summer.”

“He promised to take me.” She chimed in, giddy and blissfully unaware of the anger mounting between the exes.

Your narrowed gaze bounced between the two, your irritation palpable. You were stiff as your spine straightened against the booth. “What about the kids? The summer is when they have time with you. They look forward to it.”

Paul raised his hand in a placating gesture and Rio noticed how your lips pinched together in response, as if physically restraining yourself from saying something. You were a better person than he was. The man across from him was barely that, and barely one that deserved your attention, much less the wasted love of a ruined marriage.

“I’ll make it up to them. But we’ve had this trip planned for months.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me that?”

“Because I knew how you’d react.”

“Yeah, because the summer is your time, Paul.”

Paul sighed, as if frustrated with your reasonable argument. “So we’ll switch. You’ve had to have my help with alternating weekends when stuff comes up.”

“For work. Not a trip to fucking Europe.” You seethed, voice low but spewing with venom.

Rio only looked on, silently admiring your ability to not beat the guy’s ass. He deserved it. He was a piece of shit husband and an even bigger piece of shit father.

“The kids will be fine. We’ll be gone for a few weeks and then they can come stay with us for the remainder of the summer.” He brushed off your concerns, seeing no real issue with forgoing time with his children to peruse foreign streets.

Rio scoffed at the boldness. The action didn’t go unnoticed.

“Something to say?” Paul directed at him, his chest posturing in a show of male dominance.

Rio laughed lowly, amused by the man’s antics. How you’d ever ended up with someone like that was a mystery to him. After seeing your determination, your fire, Rio had been enthralled. He’d recognized something raw inside of you. Something that matched him. Outwardly, you appeared to be opposites. Strangers from two different worlds. But inside you were more alike than either of you really understood. There was something waiting to be uncaged within you. Waiting for a reason to be unleashed. He was going to get you there. Because you deserved to see your potential, even if the bitch of a man across from you didn’t.

“Nah man...you clearly got the situation under control.” Rio taunted, the sarcasm dripping from his words. He clenched his jaw and swallowed, two sets of eyes watching the bird at his throat move. It was his own alpha display. His own performance of just who king dick was. And it wasn’t your ex.  

When it was clear that Paul wasn’t going to rise to the occasion, Rio drained the last of his drink and turned to face you. He lowered his lips to your ear and spoke so only you could hear.

“You ready to go, darlin’?”

“Yeah.” You said with a sharp nod of your head, chin held high in reproach towards the man opposite you.

Rio stood, grabbing his jacket and helping you slide out of your seat. His eyes never wavered from Paul’s as he did. You smoothed out your dress, clutching your purse and not bothering to acknowledge the couple at all. He dug into his pocket for his wallet and made a show of grabbing a few crisp hundred dollar bills. He pulled out two and threw them on the table.

“Dinner’s on me. Keep the change, yeah?” He offered with a smirk, letting his hand come to rest on your lower back. He led you away, keeping his touch secured to you as you stepped into the night.

You released a sigh immediately and then inhaled, eyes closing as if centering yourself. He watched you closely, wondering if he’d see tears in your eyes when you opened them. Instead, he saw amusement. A laugh erupted from your throat, your chest shaking as the volume grew with each passing second. He only watched, entertained by the sound. For the first time that evening, he let his eyes trail along your body. Your dress was black and velvet, hitting just below the knee. There was a small slit up the side, exposing the smooth flesh of your thigh. A tie was cinched around your waist, accentuating your figure, while short sleeves helped stave off the chill in the air. The entirety of you was elegant...captivating, and far too striking to be meeting up with your ex-husband for dinner.

Your laughter died down when you noticed his gaze. You stepped towards him, holding your purse in front of you so that your cleavage pulled his focus. He licked his lips and waited as you crowded his space, your perfume swirling into a fog around him. He studied your face, noting the tiny details he often overlooked. You were beautiful, a fact that never went unnoticed by him, but sometimes he forgot just how much. And he wondered if you’d always been this attractive or if it was just the blinding haze of attraction that made him think so. Either way, he didn’t really care. It didn’t change how much he ached to fuck you.

“How’d you know where I’d be?”

“I got my ways.” He offered, taking in the way your lashes fluttered at him. It was a familiar tell. One he’d come to associate with you flat on your back and gazing up at him, usually with his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.

“Thank you.” You whispered, sobering for a second so that he could read the honesty across your features. There was that vulnerability again. And his chest tightened just as it had the previous night.

“No problem.”

You took a step back and waited as he began to follow you to your car. You’d parked along the side of the building and he noted how full the lot still was. You halted once you noticed his SUV next to your car, stopping at the bumper and turning to face him.

“Your car?” You asked, nodding in the direction of the black G Wagon.

He wordlessly nodded, once again using the moment to appreciate the way your dress hugged your frame. He appraised your black heels and the deep red polish that adorned your toes, remembering that last time he’d seen you they’d been a light pink. He waited and watched as you walked to the passenger side of his car, fitting yourself in the space between the two vehicles.

“How tinted are your windows?” You asked, the innocence in your words making him suspicious. “Like no one can see in kind of tinted?”

You stared at him as you waited for his reply, biting your bottom lip in a way that could only be described as seductive.

“Yeah, why?”

You grinned, pleased with his answer. His face remained expressionless as you looked around the lot, the area void of other people. You slowly reached under your dress, careful not to expose yourself. Your hands disappeared under the skirt and then reappeared a second later, a scrap of dark green lace trailing down your legs. Your gaze stayed on him as you stepped out of the underwear and dangled them on your fingers, a proud grin making its way onto your lips. You flung the panties in his direction and he caught them against his chest.

“Open the door.” You softly demanded, gesturing to the rear passenger seat.

Rio let your words hang in the air, taking satisfaction in seeing you begin to squirm. There was doubt in your eyes, like perhaps he’d turn you down. You hadn’t caught on to the fact that he could do no such thing.

He took mercy on you, figuring you’d had enough unease for the night and found the key in his jacket pocket, hitting the button. The lights of the car flashed as the vehicle unlocked itself. You sent him a playful smile as you got in without another word, the door closing behind you with a resounding echo. He chuckled and shook his head, biting his lip as he pocketed your panties and walked to the other side of the vehicle. He got in, sliding in next to you and discarding his jacket along the way. He seated himself in the middle and you immediately straddled his lap. His hands found their way under your dress, skimming the soft planes of your thighs.

“So that’s what it takes, huh?” He whispered against your lips, leaning into your touch that ran along the back of his neck.

“What?”

“Me being a dick to your ex. That’s what it takes.” He supplied, hands gliding further under your dress until they began massaging your ass. You moaned at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut as you ground down onto his crotch.

“Takes a little more than that.” You insisted, your hips rocking against his in a sensual rhythm.

“Let me see.” He gruffly commanded, chin angling to the hem of your dress that was bunched around your thighs.

You stilled your hips and did as he requested, lifting the fabric and exposing your bare slit to his hungry eyes. He could see the evidence of your arousal, even in the dark. Your pussy glistened in the muted light of the night, swollen and needy for him like aloe to a scathing burn. He reached forward and ran his index finger along your opening, making you jump at the contact. He instantly became drenched in you, the clear stickiness coating his finger. Your hips searched for a firmer hand, wordlessly begging him to slip past your lips.

“You seem plenty wet for me already, ma.” He taunted, letting his finger press against your clit. You gasped and bit your lip, nails digging into the tops of his shoulders.

“Rio...please,” You pleaded, chasing his touch every time it disappeared from your body.

His dick twitched at the sound of his name falling from your parted lips. It was something you’d only recently started doing, using his name in bed. He was addicted to the sound of it. You always said it with desperation and longing, usually while clinging to him in trembling pleasure.

“What do you need?”

You gripped his wrist and directed his finger into your waiting walls in response. He was  overcome with heat and slick immediately. You both released moans that signaled just what it did to you to be so intimately joined.

“That what you need, baby?” He added another finger while his thumb continued to massage your clit. He could feel you clench around him, nipping at your chin as your moans turned to whimpers.

“More.”

“Let me see all of you.” He ordered, his free hand pulling at the neckline of your dress.

You dutifully obeyed, pulling your arms out of the garment and slipping it down to rest around your waist. The same shade of green that had adorned your lower half also encased your breasts, the lace affording him glimpses of your hardened nipples. He curled his fingers inside of you in reciprocation, reaching up to mouth at your neck. Your hands held him to you, running along his scalp and sending bolts of electricity straight to his dick. He shifted his hips in search of friction, feeling the warmth from between your thighs calling to him.

“Feel good?”

“Yes…” You breathed, unclasping your bra and hurriedly pulling the lace away. He followed your lead and trailed wet kisses across your flesh, his tongue reaching out to taste you. You pushed your chest into him in return.

“You can take more, right mama?” He urged, not bothering to wait for your answer. He added another finger, his movements speeding up as he reached that sweet spot deep within.

“Fuck, fuck…” You cursed, riding his fingers while he sucked at your nipple.

He worked your body like a fine-tuned car, hitting each switch with expert precision. He could read your face, gauge the tension in your limbs the further he brought you to the edge. His guilty pleasure was watching you cum, watching you uninhibited and practically blessing his very existence. He knew if he flicked his wrist more to the left and pressed down on your clit at the same time that you’d call out his name. He knew if he bit down on your breast he’d be rewarded with your pussy fluttering around him. He knew if he told you how good you looked, how good you felt, you’d cum...and hard.

“You look so good like this. Like you belong to me.” He praised. You gasped, throwing your head back, and he knew you were close. “Who gets you like this? Who makes you feel this good?”

“You do.”

“That’s right. No one else.” He affirmed, thrusting his fingers as rapidly as he could at that angle. The muscles in your thighs twitched as you came, tightening around his fingers in a way that made him long for it to be his dick instead. He let you ride out the ecstasy, your body rocking into the stiffness pressed along his zipper. Your head was thrown back, your mouth agape as a litany of cries and moans filtered through the air. He could make out the rasp of his name amongst the sounds. He could feel the surge of moisture as it slid down his hand. You were enraptured; a victim to his touch.

He waited until your body had stilled, the aftershocks having long passed, before he slipped from your clutches. He caught your hooded gaze and slowly took his slickened fingers into his mouth, your essence exploding onto his tongue. He savored you, taking in the way your chest expanded with each breath. Your fingers curled into his shirt and dragged along his chest, your hips dropping down to grind into him. He barely had enough time to remove his fingers before you were pulling his lips to yours. Your tongue coaxed his into your mouth and he could taste the remnants of the wine you’d drank. The alcohol mixed with you, creating an erotic elixir, one that had him intoxicated. He hissed against your lips, bucking his hips when you unzipped his pants and licked your palm in a show of lustful desire.

“I need you. Inside.” You panted between kisses, situating your pussy over him as you stroked his throbbing flesh.

Rio slid his hand up between your breasts and grasped your neck, feeling your pulse jump. He tilted your chin towards him and ensured your eyes were nowhere else but on him.

“Put me in. Go slow.” He squeezed his fingers around your throat as you moved, angling the head of his cock along your folds. You released a shaky breath as you eased him into you, gaze not wavering. He rested against the seat as he took in the view, licking his lips. He tsked and maneuvered your chin back in position when your eyes began to close, the fullness of him stretching you tight.

“Keep going, mama. All of it.”

You held his forearm, the one still attached to your neck, as you bottomed out, your ass finally meeting his thighs. Your pussy sucked him, walls gripping him with an unforgiving strength. You both remained still, relishing the myriad of sensations that assaulted your restless bodies.

“Touch yourself.”

You worked your hands over his arm, cupping your breasts at his request. Your movements mirrored his, matching the force and pressure of how he usually touched you. He was transfixed by you. Utterly lost in the way your body begged for him and still wanted more. He respected your greediness. Could understand the need for more once a craving had been satisfied. It was the business he was in. He was an expert on the matter. And he’d deliver for you.

His left hand dug into the flesh of your ass in a show of impatience. You caught on and started to move, leaning down to nibble at his throat. Your pace was languid, almost lazy as you swiveled your hips. Each down thrust had you rubbing your clit along his pelvic bone, triggering your pussy to spasm.

“Rio...”

There was a warning in your tone. He could hear it clearly as you bounced on his cock, the plea almost drowned out by the slapping of bodies.

“Shit, already?” He asked, somewhat surprised at the rate at which your body was responding to him. He let both of his hands fall to your ass, directing you forward so that he could thrust. You whimpered into his ear as his hips pushed up and into you, hitting deep. You clamped down around him, making him squeeze his eyes shut.

“Right there. Don’t stop.” You gasped, face buried into his neck as he slapped your ass. The hit made you convulse. So he did it again.

The closing in of your walls made him double his efforts. He secured his arm around your waist and held you steady. He kept your pussy at his desired angle as he fucked you, hearing that hitch in your breath that let him know you were on the cusp of orgasm.

“M’gonna cum.” You slurred, primal lust making the words run together. His dick swelled inside of you, his balls tightening with every desperate breath you expelled. He could feel that familiar tingle at the base of his spine start to expand, signaling to him what was coming next. He worked his hand between your bodies, gathering moisture and ravaging your clit. You jerked in surprise, yelping when his touch didn’t retreat or ease up.

“Too much.”

“Nah, you take it, ma. You take it and you cum for me.” Rio provoked, forcing you to abide by his commands.

Seconds later you were doing as he said once again, cumming on his cock with a force that made him grit his teeth. Your body shuddered as barely intelligible words floated from your lips. You nuzzled further into him while he continued to chase his own release. He dug his fingers into your hips and thrust, the rapid speed making the car sway. He could already tell the windows were fogged up, the stench of sex permeating the air. You were boneless as you sat astride him, your soft moans of residual pleasure going straight to his dick, luring him off the edge.

“Fuck,” He growled, feeling the eletric shocks of climax start to claim him. He closed his eyes and buried his face into the crook of your neck, teeth biting down into the otherwise unblemished skin. He held you firm as he emptied his cum and filled you, rivulets already beginning to spill from your connected bodies. His chest moved with the rapid beats of his heart as the entire moment culminated into a drug-level euphoria.

Minutes ticked by as you both struggled to catch your breath and calm your racing hearts. Rio felt you ghost a kiss along his jaw; a low, satisfied laugh making him smirk.

“You think anyone heard us?” You asked, beginning to shift in his arms.

Beyond the fogged windows, the lot was still without people. But who knew who’d walked by in the meantime. The SUV wasn’t necessarily equipped to withhold sound, though it could cause a bullet to ricochet.

“Probably.” He let you sit up, eyes falling to your still naked chest. You both seemed to have an affinity for fucking in public spaces.

You eased forward to kiss him, the action much more intimate than it’d been moments ago. Your fingers trailed along his jaw and combed through his facial hair, a gesture he secretly loved. His own hands skimmed your back, eliciting shivers that radiated down your body.

“I didn’t ask you to do this.” You whispered once you’d pulled away, eyes imploring him to understand what you meant.

He did. He knew what this kind of gesture meant. He’d been truthful in confessing his want for you. It was a selfish need. Something that grew because you’d continuously denied him. And then it’d shattered before it’d even had a chance to become anything. And during that time he’d admitted to himself that he was willing to compromise. To follow your rules. And as a boss who ran his own shit by his own decree, it was difficult to come to terms with. But he’d done it. Why? Because something told him it’d be worth it. Whether for the great sex or the companionship.

Time would tell.

He ran his finger along your cheek, observing the way you fell into the touch. “You didn’t have to.” He assured you, meaning every word.

“Thank you.”

“You already thanked me, darlin’.”

“Well, thank you again.” You smiled, pressing your chest to his.

“Call it even.” He joked, gesturing to the state of your bodies still twisted around each other.

“Let’s get some pizza.” You suggested suddenly, pulling the sleeves of your dress back up, sans bra.

He laughed at both your words and the fact that you were getting dressed with his dick still sheathed inside you. “You hungry?”

“I didn’t get to finish my dinner.” You reminded him, retying the tassel around your waist. His hands sluggishly skimmed your thighs, stopping to squeeze whenever you suddenly straightened. “Oh, what about that food truck you took me to last week? The one with the fried mac and cheese?”

Rio took in your enthusiasm, finding it endearing. He didn’t have to use words to figure out where your head was at in all this. It was written on your face. In your voice. Beaming from your eyes and seeping from your pores. And like so many other things between you, it would go unsaid. For now. Because that’s just how it was. And maybe it was fucked up. But it didn’t invalidate any of the chemistry between you. Words just...weren’t needed. And that was sort of how it had always been.

“I got you.” He assured, patting your ass as he did. You beamed at him, not knowing that his words ran much deeper than a meal.

Rio Tags:

@tomhardydallasstarsgirl​

@thebookisbtr​

@beardburnsupersoldiers​

@nina-nkl​

@gemini0410​

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Dude socks was so domestic and cute and comforting I might cry!! Can I request a sirius black imagine where the reader is like a confident and fun/sarcastic person that is friends with the marauders and has a playful flirty relationship with sirius. They both like each other but the reader is kind of scared of commitment so they always take a step back whenever sirius takes a step forward and sirius finally corners them about it and finds out its readers insecurities and all ends well? Thanks!

She's not afraid [S.B]

Sirius Black x Reader

Word counts: 4.8k

A/N: This was a very entertaining request and it took a while because every day I feel like I'm going to pass out from nausea haha. But writing is super relaxing for me.

I was hoping it would be shorter and now I feel like something was missing, but I hope you like it. Especially you, nonny!

And thanks for your nice comment, I'm glad you liked "socks"

(The title refers to the song of one direction because it reminded me a lot of its lyrics)

"If you had to choose between a chocolate-flavored shit and a shit-flavored chocolate, what would you choose?" he murmured, his voice echoing through the room.

You and your friends were in the common room in the so-called “study group” that Remus had insisted on creating for the Defense Against the Dark Arts class and ended up with topics from the other subjects. It was true that everyone fulfilled the boy's whims, because none had the heart to say no to something (which he often took advantage of) and now every afternoon you met to read some documents, comment on your doubts and practice spells and even potions.

But if anyone couldn't take things seriously, he was Sirius.

The only thing that kept it there was his love for Moony and also the opportunity to watch you study for a full hour. Or watch you do anything, to be honest.

Everyone frowned at Sirius' question, not understanding the nature of it. James, who was the only one who could listen to him, was busy analyzing a herbology book in detail. And by analyzing I mean sleeping on top of it.

“The chocolate-flavored shit, of course. What good would it do you to have chocolate if it tastes awful?" you answered seriously. Suddenly all eyes in the room were on you and most of them seemed half disgusted half confused. "What? Sirius asked" you said shrugging your shoulders and pointing at him with an open palm. The young man grinned widely and you returned the same smile, both of you holding back the urge to laugh.

"I can always trust you, pretty," he said happily. "And now that I think about it, you're very far from me, don't you think? Let me get closer” he murmured determinedly, getting up from his seat with a book in hand and all the intention of placing himself in the same armchair as you. But halfway there an arm stopped him abruptly.

"Go back to your seat," Remus demanded, not looking away from his book. Sirius complained.

"Why?" he said indignantly. You turned your gaze to the notes you were analyzing, but the smile on your mouth didn't fade and Sirius noticed.

“Because having the two of you together is having a time bomb. Go back to your seat,” he murmured just as seriously. Sirius watched him and in the middle of his tantrum he wrinkled his whole face trying to imitate Remus "I can see you Sirius"

"Since you've been a prefect, you have become unbearable," he muttered.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing," he replied like a little boy, dropping on the couch and taking the book from him again in the middle of a snort. You watched him with amusement and he stared back at you, so you mouthed ‘Better luck next time as he looked back at his notes. You felt Sirius's gaze, it was not something easy to ignore, but you tried not to stop yourself from the spirit from passing all the subjects that had suddenly invaded you.

When you couldn't take it anymore you looked up and again mouthed ‘What?’ Trying not to get caught by Remus. Sirius sneakily pointed to a scroll and his quill and you knew what it was all about.

Turns out that Sirius was extremely smart when he put his mind to it and he himself had enchanted a couple of scrolls that only you and he knew about. When you wrote in one, it was reflected in the other and when you finished whatever you were writing this was erased. At first you had not believed him because doing that involved very advanced magic and Sirius was not the archetype of an exemplary student to do that. But once you tried them you realized that you had indeed underestimated the boy and the curiosity to know the most intelligent and creative part of him invaded you. I mean, he was when it came to the pranks but you never imagined a Sirius smart underneath the idler you knew.

Y/N, can I ask you a very personal question? he wrote it. You tried not to sound too concerned and replied:

You can do it, but I can decide not to answer it. It turned out that Sirius was really weird lately and you were worried about what he might say, but usually it was pure nonsense.

The scroll went blank and you waited a few seconds for Sirius's pretty handwriting to appear. You tried not to look at him too much because you knew beforehand that he would get a scolding from Mr. Lupin.

Are you a dementor? he wrote.

You frowned at the words, searching for some logical explanation for his absurd question. Obviously you weren't. Sirius, seeing your confused face, supported a giggle and wrote again.

Because you take my breath away.

You read the words, going over one by one, and couldn't bear the urge to look at Sirius over your glasses with that annoyed look that you liked to fake so he wouldn't notice that you actually liked his scoundrel flirtations.

That was horrible, Sirius.

I made you blush so I don't think it was that bad.

Of course I didn't do that.

Of course you did. He wrote. And you didn't want to look at him because you knew you would just agree with him and blush even more. You look beautiful when you do that, he added. You bit your lip and looked at the parchment for a few seconds just before writing on it.

Stop saying such things to me, Sirius.

What do you say? What do I continue to say to you my best compliments and flattering your qualities? Perfect.

You stifled a laugh and shook it softly, keeping that smile that Sirius loved to observe.

You considered him a wonderful, handsome and kind boy, who was always looking for a way to make you laugh. The spark between you was something that everyone could perceive, including yourself.

I need to study, Sirius. Goodbye. You wrote and that ended your little talk.

For the rest of the hour all your attention was focused on the topics you were studying: Aconite (also known as monkshood or wolfsbane) a mundane plant with magical properties. The name had seemed funny to you and Remus had assured that it had nothing to do with werewolves.

Herbology was a very simple class for you, especially with the help that sometimes the best student in the class gave you: Frank Longbottom.

"Well, the hour is up, do you want to discuss any of the issues or...?" he was interrupted by Sirius abruptly closing the book and who with a wave of his wand put away all his notes "Everyone except Sirius, would you like to discuss something?" he asked, rolling his eyes at the brunette's innocent smile.

You all denied and Lupin ended the meeting. Everyone scattered in different directions, including James who seemed to have magically awakened as soon as the hour was up, but you stayed in the sitting room with your feet tucked up on the red velvet chair.

"What happens?" Sirius asked from behind, not noticing your presence. He jumped onto the couch and flopped into it.

"Nothing, do I need to go where everyone goes all the time?" you asked raising an eyebrow. The boy smiled and shook his head as he leaned on one of his hands, closing the distance between you. "Weren't you the one who was dying to get out of here?"

"Correction: I wanted the session to end, at no time did I speak about the company" he replied and you smiled "Speaking of which, I was thinking..."

"You think?"

“When I want to do it, yes,” he said amused “But let me talk and then you make fun of me. I was thinking that this weekend we are going to Hogsmeade and I was wondering if you wanted to go somewhere "

"Sure!" You answered animatedly and his eyes lit up "Will the others go too?" You continued, but the boy was suddenly disappointed.

"Hmm, I was thinking of something... different."

"Different?"

“Yeah, something like… you know, you and me. Alone”

And with that, you were paralyzed in your place.

You'd been alone with him countless times, just like that time, but it was one thing to chat in his common room or in class and quite another to ask you out at Hogsmeade.

"Oh, sure. Something like… a walk or shopping for chocolate frogs at Honeydukes, right?" you said quickly, trying not to show your nerves.

"Hmm, I could think of something else like Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop," he said with a smile. You gulped and watched him with concern. That place was usually full of cheesy couples. "Even though I have all those pink things, I could take them if I'm with you..."

"No," you said abruptly. Sirius was silent and you watched his smile diminish considerably. “I mean, no… I don't wish we were alone. We are always accompanied by the group, why not do it now?” you asked with an awkward smile. The boy was close to you and apparently he did not expect that answer, as his face reflected it quite well. But you were too busy with nerves eating your stomach to notice.

"Uh... yeah, I guess I'll tell them then" he exclaimed softly.

"Yes! It will be more fun and we can go for butterbeer if you want. And I could buy you those sweets that you like, what do you say? " you asked trying to sound a little more animated. Sirius was good at pretending and his disappointed look on his was replaced by a smile in an instant.

"Yes, that would be fine" he replied. His hand traveled to your cheek and he ran over it gently, resting at the base of your jaw for a moment. His hands were callused and very large compared to yours "Then we will go with everyone, as always" he sighed. His hand went up a bit and you felt him tug at your earlobe.

"Hey!" you screamed trying to reach for her head to hit her. Sirius dodged it quite skillfully and it made you laugh.

"I think I'll go to my room. See you tomorrow?" he murmured with a tight-lipped smile as he rose from the couch.

"Sure, see you tomorrow" you replied in the same way, watching him walk towards the exit. You released your contained breath and let your head fall against the back of the chair, processing what had just happened.

You were very sure of what Sirius had tried to do and you didn’t understand the reason for your reaction. I mean, you had completely paralyzed shortly after blatantly flirting with the boy. You had had many dates in your life, why would this be any different?

You looked down the hall where Sirius had gone and remembered his disappointed fase. Should you go look for him?

No, maybe it was best to just let it go and gradually he would forget about it. Yes, that would be the best.

You looked at the seat where he had previously been and you also touched your cheek, hoping you could relive the touch that he had given you. For a few seconds you felt guilty that you responded so rudely to his request, but then you simply shook your head to drive those thoughts away.

"I should be sleeping" you thought aloud. You weren't even sleepy and it wasn't even too late, but you imagined it would be easier to lie down on the bed and not think about it anymore.

You took your things in silence and climbed the stone stairs, leaving behind that memory that you hoped would soon be forgotten.

It had been a few days since that incident and luckily things hadn't changed at all between you and Sirius. He really seemed to have forgotten what happened, so the weekend trip to Hogsmeade unfolded in the most normal way in the world.

Sirius was still flirtatious as ever, teasing you and taking every opportunity to be close to you. You liked his company, he made you feel quite calm and you always had something to talk about. If it wasn't this, it was that, and when you weren't talking you were laughing.

"How could you not fall asleep in Slughorn's class?" James asked. His head hung from the ledge where he was lying and played with his glasses. "The only thing that could distract me was Snivellus's voice."

"Don't call him that," Lily said in a stern voice and you snorted.

“Why do you defend him so much? " you asked wrinkling your nose. Lily looked at you just as seriously.

"Because he’s my friend and he does not deserve to be mistreated like that"

"Mistreat?" you asked incredulously “Have you heard him mocking us along with his entourage of snooty Slytherins? Who you should take care of should be that Lucius and Regulus" you said rolling your eyes "No offense, Sirius" you added. The boy was leaning against the wall with his tie unbuttoned resting on his shoulders.

"It's not offensive, it's the truth" he murmured amused, shrugging and giving you a smile.

Lily didn't say anything else, but she seemed annoyed and she didn't speak for the rest of the afternoon. Peter and James started arguing about things you weren't really interested in so you decided to focus on the scribbles you were drawing on a worn parchment.

You felt an extra pressure next to you on the couch and it wasn't even necessary to look to know who he was.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing" you said simply, keeping your eyes on your scroll.

"Can I talk to you?"

"You are doing it" you replied with a smile. Sirius rolled his eyes and took the quill from your hand, forcing you to look at him.

"Can I talk to you alone?" he asked seriously. Oh no, trouble again...

"Why alone, dear?" you said as a joke. Sirius was too close to you and you tried not to get flustered by it "Is there something you need to say to me that others can't hear?" you asked with a tight-lipped smile, the kind you wear when you're uncomfortable with something.

Sirius cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck unconsciously. You knew he did that when he was nervous.

"Well... to tell the truth something like that" he murmured with a smile. You felt your heart beat faster "Do you think we can go to my room?" he asked.

"To your room?" you said, your voice an octave higher than normal.

"Yeah, you've been there a thousand times," he laughed.

"Eh, is what you have to tell me very urgent?" you asked. You were a bundle of nerves and you really didn't understand what it was.

"Yeah boo, it's important," he said gently. His hand traveled to yours and took your fingers against his. You turned pale because he didn't say urgent but important.

“So, uh, come on. The faster the better, right?" you expressed nervous. You got up from your place and walked to the bedrooms without looking back. You heard an almost deathly silence in the common room and then laughter, but you didn't have time to look when Sirius was already shoving you from the lower back.

The walk to his room was very silent, the first omen that something bad was about to happen. Once you were in his bedroom he let you in first and closed the door behind you, managing to startle you with the simple sound of the latch.

"Why are you closing the door?" you asked nervously, with the volume of your voice considerably louder. Sirius noticed this and quickly removed the latch he had placed on the door.

"I just didn't want to be bothered, that's all," he said with a frown "You're a bit strange, are you sure you don't mind being here with me?"

"No, no, nothing like that" you rushed to reply, waving your hands in an exaggerated way. Sirius found it cute when you did that "You're the one who's suddenly strange, I'm not"

"Yeah, maybe I've been behaving a little weird lately" he smiled, in that way that reminded you of a child "But I promise you it's for good reason, in fact it's what I want to talk to you about" he started to say.

You panicked, total panic screaming at you to get out of there at all costs. The look Sirius gave you, the nervous posture of him and the way he was smiling at you. You knew what that was.

"McGonagall!" You screamed out of nowhere before he could continue

"Excuse me?"

“I forgot that I have a very important meeting with McGonagall, to see the matter of one of my grades. It is essential that I go today and I forgot, can we have this talk later? " you said clasping your hands in a sign of prayer.

Sirius looked, for the second time, disappointed.

"Sure, school is more important," he replied, trying not to sound affected. You grinned widely and walked in the direction of the exit, eager to leave his room.

"Thank you Sirius, you are an angel"

"I know I look like one, but I'm not quite sure I am," he joked, but his smile was not as bright as before. You laughed in response and stood on the balls of his feet to place a kiss on his cheek.

"See you later, I promise," you murmured hastily, leaving without giving him a chance to say anything else.

"Yes... I can wait" Sirius spoke to himself, with a hurt tone. He released his breath and lay down on his respective bed, staring at the ceiling. He felt something strange in his chest, something that wanted him to cry out.

You walked down the hallways, desperate to get away from the questions he might have asked, and when you were outside your common room you didn't stop. On the contrary, you ran and ran through the corridors hoping that no one would find you.

You didn't stop until you were outside the castle, until you were on the same black lake. And once there, you collapsed to cry.

You entered through the portrait of the fat lady, making sure to remove your shoes first so as not to make noise when entering. It was late and you had spent all day wandering the castle only to never return to your common room, wearing James's cloak so as not to be discovered.

It had been a few other days since you spoke to him and you still didn't feel ready to face him. Especially when, that afternoon, you had come to your room totally agitated and your two companions had bombarded you with questions.

Did he already tell you? they asked. What was he supposed to say? What was that important thing that Sirius was going to do that you had avoided?

The worst thing was that you already knew, that was the reason for your flight. Your mind knew what was going to happen and refused to accept it.

But you had also wanted it, you had been waiting for that question for years and now you were simply hiding from everyone so you wouldn't have to face that change.

"I was wondering where you were," said a voice in the dark, making you jump instead. The fireplace was off and the darkness did not allow you to see well who it was, but it was not necessary because you recognized his words perfectly “Well, I was not wondering where because I have this wonderful map to which we all owe a lot, but I was wondering why” he murmured showing you 'The Marauder's Map'. It was night, you couldn't move anywhere anymore and you knew that sooner or later that moment had to come. Still in the dark you saw the silhouette of him get up from the couch and walk in your direction "Are you avoiding me?"

"Sirius..."

"Of course you're avoiding me," he answered himself. The boy took a step towards you and your reaction was to walk two steps back. Sirius stifled a laugh “That's what I refer. Whenever you seem to move towards me and I get closer, you move further away" he muttered. You thought that maybe he was not only referring to the literal part of the sentence “I don't blame you, but I sincerely wonder why you do it. I am a very curious boy” he expressed somewhat ironic. His words hurt because you knew you couldn't give him an explanation "And you're very smart, I'd say too much, and I'm sure you knew my intentions from the moment I asked to speak to you, right?" he continued. He took another step towards you, you stepped back "Do you not like me? You can say no and I will never blame you, but I would have preferred a no sincere to the uncertainty in which I find myself” he explained. Another step, another step "Won't you say anything?" he asked without losing his temper. You were surprised by how calmly he could react to all situations when you were struggling to stay on your feet.

"Sirius, it's not what it seems" you tried to justify yourself. But the man said nothing, because you knew he wanted a more substantial answer than that. You refused to look at him and felt him take another step in your direction, repeating the previous sequence. But this time you felt your back crash against the stone wall and Sirius's arms at your sides, imprisoning you against it.

You looked at his clothes. He was still wearing his uniform but he looked more scruffy and some items were missing. His shirt had a three-quarter sleeve, thanks to the fact that he had picked it up himself.

"Y/N, please" he spoke in a soft voice "I do not ask you to reciprocate, I only ask you to give me an answer"

"I'm terrified Sirius!" you finally said, in a louder voice "I'm completely scared, what else do you want me to tell you?"

"Are you afraid of me?"

"I'm afraid of how you feel about me" you murmured sincerely. Maybe it was time to be honest with him, because you had no other alternative anyway. He had cornered you to it, literally “It scares me that things will change between us, okay? And I like you too, I like you a lot, but I'm afraid of what might happen next" you whispered without looking at him. The heat that emanated from his body hugged you “I like you to tell me all those compliments, even if I say otherwise. I like when you touch our hands, I like that we escape together from class, that when we walk around the outside of the castle you cut flowers to put in my hair, I like to see you every day and I like the cute nicknames you call me with. I like everything about you, Sirius. And that's why I'm so scared of losing you" you exclaimed with a cracking voice. Sirius kept a pious gaze on you. You could feel a bit of his accelerated breath "I've had a lot of good people in my life who have ended up leaving, I don't want that to happen with you..."

"And how will you know if we don't try, love?" he spoke. His voice came out hoarse and with his hand he gently took you by the chin to force you to see him "You could have told me this before and I would have stopped insisting, or we would have discussed it as we are doing now" you looked at him, eyes clouded with tears restrained, and Sirius smiled at you tenderly "I'm not going to force you to do anything, I never would and I never will. But I would... I would like to have something with you. I really like you and if you don't agree I will respect it, but it would be a dream come true to be able to form a relationship "

"Sirius, I don't know how to do it."

"Me neither!" he said, almost excited and managed to make you smile. He carefully wiped the tears that fell from your cheeks. “We could learn together and I promise you that if it doesn't work, I won't let you. If we are not a good couple then we will be friends again and problem solved. But how about we realize that we are ideal for each other? " he muttered. His thumb left slow and delicate caresses on your face “I don't know how to love either, nobody in my family knows how to do it and that's why I never learned to do it. But… being here at Hogwarts I knew what it was like to have friends, to have friends. I learned that my heart races when I see you and that I also like all those things you do for me. I like you to know what my favorite sweets are and buy them for me, I like it when you detangle my hair, when you force me to study, even if I don't like it, because you care about me. When you know that I am sad and you do everything to cheer me up, even when you call me in horrible ways and make fun of me" he laughed, making you smile too "And if you give me the opportunity I know that I can make you very happy and I would also be very happy to be with you. I planned for many days how to say these words to you, but I think now I speak from the heart when I tell you that I like you like no one else has. I'll take care of you, I promise. And I already told you that if this doesn't work, and you decide that way, we will continue to be friends” he concluded. In his eyes you could see that he was also nervous, that he had the same fear as you but that he was better hiding it "Now, if you want me to list the many advantages that I would have as a boyfriend, then doing it" he continued, with a more naughty tone "Don't pay too much attention to me, but I give some excellent kisses..."

"According to whom?"

"According to me!" he said obvious “If you want to check it I am totally available. I mean, just so you know I'm not a liar," he muttered innocently, making you smile from ear to ear.

"Are you sure about this Sirius?"

"From my kisses? Of course"

"About us, you great idiot," you said rolling your eyes and gently pulling a loose lock of his long hair.

"Ouch! If you are going to insult me ​​and pull my hair like that I would prefer that we were in a more private place, my dear” he murmured flirtatiously, putting one of his hands on your waist and closing the distance between you. You looked away but he forced you to look at him again "Of course I'm sure, only if you're sure too" he replied. You sighed, feeling in your stomach a more pleasant emptiness than the previous ones.

"Then ask me"

"What do you want I ask you?"

"What were you planning to ask for days, silly" you said rolling your eyes. Sirius smirked.

"Can you let me copy your Potions project?" he said pretending to be confused and you tried to free yourself from his grip due to lack of seriousness, but he did not allow it. He took you from behind him, putting his arm around your lower back so that his torsos collided and the space between his faces was minimal. You had to lift your head to watch him, but he also looked down to save you a bit of work. His smile faded, but despite the darkness in his eyes you could glimpse a sample of the love he professed for you "Would you like me to be your boyfriend?" he asked softly.

You would remember that moment all your life, his voice low, his sounding in the middle of the darkness with the question that would start his beautiful love story.

"I wouldn’t like it," you said just as seriously, looking into his eyes with a smile. Your hands went up to the back of his neck and you pulled his face gently to place a kiss on his cheek. He smiled "I would love it"

[tohruhondaismydaughter]

Just had some headcanons about Machi pop into my head that I wanted to share with yall. So we know this poor girl struggles with "perfect"/neat things right? Well I was thinking about some healthy coping mechanisms she could develop to replace the whole 'breaking property/living in a dump' thing & here's what I got so far -

1. She always tries to wear odd socks (unless she's invited somewhere nice)

2. Ayame & Mine help her find cool asymmetrical stuff to wear, how to make clashing colours/patterns work for her & teach her how to sew up her old clothes in a more "punk rock" way (after Yuki & Kakeru explain some of her issues with perfection)

3. Tohru gently points out that she dosn't have to tie her laces the same way on both shoes if she dosn't want to

4. Haru & Rin (awkwardly on her part) teach her the power of acessorising (ie. wearing only one earing, putting on an uneven amount of bracelets/rings/necklaces, adding paper clips of different sizes & colours to your clothing & Machi later ends up adding stuff like buttons to her outfits/belongings as well which Haru & Rin are tottally surppotive of despite thier difference in style) & hair/makeup which (thanks to Yuki's advice) they make sure to keep slightly messy (Kimi laughed at it at first until Momiji made her feel bad after he told her that Machi had gone to the bathroon & wiped off all the make up & undid the hair style so Kimi bought her some limited edition Mogeta merch, after asking for Yuki's advice, in apolgey & started referring to Machi's new hair/makeup style as "punk chic" whenever anyone tried to mock Machi about her new look)

5. her & Momiji go on a crazy tie dying adventure (much to Hatori's grumbling & Mayu's amusement)

6. Kormaki gets her into collecting second hand fridge magnets which she then later uses in her work (my version of post-serise Machi is an artist) once the magnetism finally wears off

7. Kagura teaches her how to fix up old plushies (Machi likes creating Mogeta inspired characters) & gives Machi all her old cat ones to work on (Machi descides not to ask why Yuki's cousin was seemingly once obssesd with orange cats because she looks rather embrassed & a little sad when she hands over her collection)

8. Kyo reluctantly teaches her how to cook a few simple dishes (Tohru comes over as well & Yuki insists her food is better but Machi prefers Kyo's simple style of presentation so it's eventually descided that Kyo & her will do the cooking & Tohru & Yuki will deal with the cleaning which Yuki agrees to becuse cleaning is still difficult for Machi but Kyo says it's actually because no matter how much Tohru tried to train him rat boy knows he would never be able to do anything in the kitchen but burn water)

9. Kakeru teaches her the skills of 'excessive badge & sticker decorating' as well as giving eachother fake tattoos (Kisa congratulates Hiro on not saying anything rude to Yuki's girlfriend about her appreance after they first meet her)

10. Cuts her hair short (she delibretly makes it very choppy) once she enters university, where the rules are less strict about your apprence (at least it is if your at art college), & she also regulary wears diffrent coloured wigs (her favourites being a dark red one & a rainbow one) whenever she wants to temporarily change her appearance (beacuse she didn't want to commit to just one look, still wanted to have the ability to quickly "become invisable" again & she heard from Kimi that exsseive hair die-ing could permantly destroy her hair & scalp) it takes her until she's 30 to try out shaving all her hair off (she worried she'd look sick/crazy or not feminine enough) & everyone's really surppotive (though Kimi dose cry a bit, Rin & Haru aren't there when her hair is being shaved & Kyo is a slightly confused as he'd always thought women liked having longer hair then guys) especially Ritsu (who's growing out thier hair again) & they all throw her a big party (Haru & Rin are there for the party bit just not the hair removal bit because it brought up some bad memories) where Kakeru films it & posts it (with Machi's permission) & they give her cut off hair to a charity chosen by all thier followers (despite her disbelief Machi has manged to gain a small group of loyal fans from all her art stuff & her apprences on her loved ones social media), Kakeru also later uploads a video where they help Machi rainbow dye her buzz cut, (she later explores many diffrent types of buzz cut patterns such as flowers & geometric shapes but, at Kimi's insistence, gets them done by a professional)

11. She recycles & D.Y.I's like crazy (Momiji started singing Do Re Mi from The Sound Of Music after she told him that her new dress was actually made from curtains & Yuki cried when she gave him a little rat plushie made from felt, after he came clean to her about the curse)

12. She almost never wears an apron while working on her art because she likes getting messy

13. When her & Yuki go out to eat she loves things like fondoe (both the chocolate & cheese kind), eat N mess & is genreually just a fan of finger food & it becomes a tradition between her & Yuki (& later Mutsuki) to go on a stroll through the park after thier meal & (if it's autumn) look for piles of leaves to jump in (Machi & Yuki also like playing a game where they try to look for the weirdest looking leaf to give eachother & whoever wins gets to pick what they'll eat for dinner that evening & the looser has to cook it, Mutsuki is the "impartial" judge)

14. Machi is amazing at scrapbooking & collarge making (Tohru is more of a dream journal kind of girl)

15. When it's Summer her, Yuki & Mutsuki go down to the beach to see who can find the weirdest looking rocks (the less impressive ones often get used in Machi's art work, the coolest ones Mutsuki gets to keep & any that are too perfect get tossed back in the ocean & Mutsuki likes to score the splashes they make on how big/loud they are)

16. She loves helping Yuki out with gardening for lots of reasons (it's therapeutic & she loves seeing Yuki happy) but she can't deny it's also just fun getting muddy

17. Machi, thanks to Kakeru, devolpes a love of paint ball (but instead of using guns they just throw the paint at eachother like in 10 Things I Hate About You because apparently the gun pellets actually hurt) & will bring it up as an activity idea to her loved ones any chanse she gets

18. Decorates as much of her flat (& later her home with Yuki & Mutsuki) with Mogeta merchandise, random things she collects & her own art work as a big fuck you to her bitch "you have 0 personality/hobbies or talents" of a mother

19. Kisa (happily) & Hiro (reluctantly) introduce Machi to the magic of glitter

20. Machi & Rin eventually become proper friends due to bonding over being abounded by their asshole parents & one of the things they like to do together is work on thier seprete art peices while listening to music (Machi dosn't do any of her "aggressive" art, like plate smashing, around Rin though thanks to Yuki & Haru warnings)

21. When stuff gets to be too much & none of thier other coping strategies are working (like watching Mogeta stoned- which Kisa, Tohru & Momiji do not partake in) Machi & Haru bond by going to rage rooms together to destroy shit & scream (Haru obviously dosn't want Rin around for any of that though so Momiji, Tohru, Kagura or Hana will often take the opportunity to hang out with her, one time Yuki offered & it wasn't bad but it was definitely awkward as they had never really hung out without Haru before & Haru teases her for ages afterwards about her ending up liking Yuki once she actually spent some time with him which, like the precious tsundere she is, Rin will forever deny)

22. (I actually made a whole seprete post about this ages ago but now it seems to have vanished so in case other Machi fans are unable to find it l'll add it here) on the days that it's supposed to snow but dosn't Yuki takes her (& later Mutsuki) skating so she can enjoy scratching up the perfectly smooth ice (they would have gone on double dates with Tohru & Kyo if Tohru wasn't freaked out at the idea of having blades on her shoes & Kyo hadn't claimed to "not trust" ice, he's dislike comes from all the times Kagura had forced him to ice skate with her on the lake near Kazuma's place in the winter when they were kids, so they would instead go with Haru & Momiji - they had thought about going with Haru x Rin & Kakeru x Kormaki once but he proudly revealed that he'd been banned from thier local ice rink years ago for trying "perfectly safe" Olympic level stunts in he's attempt to recreate one of he's favriote episodes of Power Rangers, much to he's fiancee's anger, & Machi reminded Yuki that though Haru & Kakeru were fine with eachother Rin isn't reall able to stand Kakeru for longer than 5 minuites)

[hongism]

give and take - k.ys, j.wy, k.hj 18+

pairing; wooyoung x yeosang x hongjoong genre; angst, smut, 18+, the angst isn’t bad i swear it’s temporary wc; 16.8k summary; watching the two people he has feelings for come together in a relationship that holds some of the greatest moments of intimacy. and sure, yes, yeosang acknowledges that it could be something purely physical for them, but that doesn’t negate the fact that the two people he has feelings for are fucking and have been fucking right under his nose for the last several weeks. warnings; explicit smut, fingering, oral sex: m, dirty talk, praise, lil degradation, slight exhibitionism and voyeurism, explicit smut, multiple orgasms, come sharing, masturbation, handjobs, threesome, sub woo, sub yeo, dom joong, yaknow the works an; happy belated valentine’s day! i hope you all enjoy muahmuah xx also this is grossly unedited im sorry but my internet is gonna go out again at any second and i just wanna post this ;;-;

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It starts, as many things do, with a little bit of jealousy. And honestly, Yeosang could not for the life of him tell you what exactly that jealousy was in the slightest (at least that is what he tries to convince himself on nights where his thoughts all but consume him). He was not the first to notice the sudden dynamic shift between Hongjoong and Wooyoung, and he was positively certain that the others would catch up soon enough. He was the third to detect the shift in their demeanors around each other; Seonghwa obviously being the first since he’s so close with Hongjoong and apparently has to vacate his own bedroom whenever Wooyoung disappears inside. Jongho, the ever-observant and perceptive youngest, was the second to notice, and he is actually the one who prompted Yeosang to take a deeper look into what was going on.

At first, Yeosang thought nothing of it. Hongjoong and Wooyoung had been getting closer, moving past those first fumbling awkward moments they had in the beginning and blossoming into a closer relationship. It seemed only natural for the two of them to spend more time together. Then Jongho pulled him aside one day after Wooyoung quite deliberately turned down the opportunity to play games with San and Yunho. 

“What’s going on with Wooyoung-hyung and Hongjoong-hyung?”

Yeosang had blinked dumbly at the younger and made some sort of dumb noise asking why Jongho would be bringing the question to him of all people, then it sunk in that of course he would bring it to Yeosang. Yeosang is both the one who has known Wooyoung the longest — and is subsequently the closest with the younger brunette — as well as Wooyoung’s roommate, so he spends a considerable amount of time with the man.

“He’s not mentioned anything to me?”

Yeosang cursed himself then for sounding so dumb and unsure, but it was the truth in the very least, and Jongho gave a slight shrug before walking away with a shady ‘maybe you should pay closer attention, hyung’ that left Yeosang glaring at the spot where the youngest just stood. 

Pay closer attention to what?

Yeosang didn’t have any idea what exactly he was supposed to be paying attention to, so he just did what he thought he did best, which was observing from the sidelines. One good thing about being quiet by nature was being able to examine conversations and interactions with greater care, as well as listen in on things that perhaps he should not be listening to but sometimes the others are just too loud for him not to overhear.

After Jongho mentions it to him though, Yeosang truly does start picking up on things. How Hongjoong snaps at Wooyoung in practice only to give him a twisting smirk afterward, how Wooyoung side-eyes the leader before dipping into the bathroom on movie nights, and especially how Hongjoong always waits three minutes and forty-five seconds before getting up to head down the hall proclaiming to need ‘sleep’. Yeosang is positive the two are doing something behind everyone’s backs — well everyone except Seonghwa, because the eldest always stares after Hongjoong’s back as the man departs with a look in his eye that Yeosang is incapable of placing. 

The most important thing is that Wooyoung is spending less and less time with Yeosang, and consequently, Hongjoong too is spending less time with Yeosang. And the visual truly didn’t think there was anything wrong with it at first. He wasn’t bothered or bent out of shape about the increase in their shady encounters or whatever it is they’re up to because he didn’t think it was too out of the ordinary. 

Then Wooyoung asked for a raincheck on their typical Thursday evening ramen stop. Yeosang saw him darting off to the studio moments after, and he didn’t return to their shared room until Hongjoong did. (Yeosang definitely did stay up waiting for either man to return; he didn’t need the confirmation, of course, he could have just assumed, but what’s several hours of lost sleep to him now?)

And after that, Hongjoong canceled one of their producing sessions together saying that he was simply too busy that day to check in on Yeosang’s progress. He had promised to look over his work and listen to his song when they returned to the dorms, but when Yeosang packed his things and left the studio for the day, he saw a very distinctly Wooyoung-shaped figure dipping into Hongjoong’s studio behind him. 

Yeosang thought he wasn’t one to get jealous. He thought he had learned that lesson the painful way when Wooyoung started casting him to the side to spend time with San instead of him, then when Hongjoong and Seonghwa called him out for the behavior, the issue had been resolved and Wooyoung returned to giving him ample amounts of attention. So truly, Yeosang cannot understand why he feels the small stirrings of jealousy in his gut whenever he sees Wooyoung running to Hongjoong. And even worse are the nagging jealousies that come when the leader is the one to seek Wooyoung out. Yeosang cannot for the life of him rectify that one, because why is he jealous of his best friend for simply spending time with Hongjoong?

He cannot admit it out loud, but in the nights where he finds himself staying up late and waiting for Wooyoung to return with Hongjoong, he thinks deeply about those curling tendrils in his gut. 

Yeosang has come to the conclusion that for once in his life, he does not like this because it makes him feel like he is missing out on something. That is a startling realization in and of itself because Yeosang has never been one to care much about those sorts of things — it just isn’t in his character or personality — so at first he denied that possibility and tried to look to other sources. When nothing else could ever make sense in his mind, Yeosang just had to accept that this was a new and growing feeling to work through. And perhaps it has something to do with the other emotions swirling through his gut that he refuses to name.

Which lands him where he is now: outside Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s door with hand raised and ready to knock on the wood. It isn’t Wooyoung and Hongjoong inside though, not at this time of day, but rather Seonghwa, the one who has the most amount of contact with Hongjoong and also the one who vacates the room whenever Wooyoung comes running over. So if anyone is going to be able to cure Yeosang’s illness that is Not Knowing What the Fuck is Going on, it will 100% be Seonghwa. Yeosang dares to bring his knuckles down on the wood and raps against the door several times before he hears Seonghwa make a noise from inside the room. 

“Hey, Woo, he’s not here right — oh, Yeosang!” Seonghwa blinks several times at the man before him as though he cannot believe that it is Yeosang and not his best friend standing in front of the door. “Are you looking for Hongjoong too? I’m afraid he’s still holed up in the studio right now.”

“W-What? No, no, hyung, I was looking for you,” Yeosang says with a quick shake of his head. Seonghwa’s eyes remain wide in surprise as he speaks, but once the words process, the older steps to the side and beckons for Yeosang to enter the room.

“Don’t be a stranger, of course, sit wherever you’d like. I was just reading a bit.”

Yeosang has no earthly idea how long this conversation might take. For all he knows, it could take a whopping two minutes or perhaps thirty minutes that falls into a lecture about jealousy and all that. So he resolves to perch on the edge of Hongjoong’s lower bunk, nudging one of the stray plushies to the side to make room for himself while Seonghwa pulls the chair from the desk to sit across from Yeosang. It already feels like something of an intervention, and Yeosang makes a note to choose his words very carefully to avoid sounding too upset or jealous about the situation. 

“Has Wooyoung mentioned anything to you recently?” He starts, but perhaps that isn’t the best place to start at all, he realizes once the question is already out.

“Is there something he is supposed to have mentioned?” Seonghwa asks, tilting his head further to the side. 

“No, like — that’s not what I mean. Has he said anything—” This is the moment of truth for Yeosang. Either Seonghwa picks up on his jealousy in an instant, or he receives a straightforward answer and moves on with his life with at least a bit of understanding. “—anything about why he’s spending so much time with Hongjoong-hyung these days?”

“Hm?” Seonghwa seems genuinely perplexed by the question for a considerable amount of time, eyes darting down to look at a spot on the floor as he mulls over the question. Then, he shakes his head a few times and draws his lips into a tight purse. “Not to me at all, no. Has something happened between you two? Is he not speaking with you? Did you have a falling out? If something happened the—”

“No, no, hyung, please,” Yeosang interjects in a rush. Seonghwa cuts his thoughts short with a small frown, and Yeosang knows he is going to have to offer more of an explanation than that to ease the older’s worries. There is a bit too much shame burning at his gut presently though, a nagging and lingering feeling of embarrassment as he realizes he will inevitably have to admit that he is jealous of all things. And that is going to be another issue because Seonghwa knows him almost better than Wooyoung does, and the older for sure knows that Yeosang is never one to be jealous. 

“It’s okay if the two of you are having issues, Yeosang. It happens to everyone, especially people who have known each other for as long as you and Wooyoung have. I’m not trying to insinuate anything of course, but I just want you to know that there’s nothing to be ashamed of if that’s the case.”

God, Yeosang wants to crawl into a tiny hole and die more than anything else right now because fuck this feeling.

“I’m just — I’m only asking because h-he turned San down the other night to spend time with Hongjoong. He has never done that. He and San are th-the closest and they never turn down the opportunity to spend time with each other, and it seems so odd that he would deny San so that he could spend time with‌ Hongjoong instead, and that’s just weird. It’s weird, and he doesn’t talk about it with me, he doesn’t mention it or anything like that, then he goes off and forgoes our plans together to be with Hongjoong too. And that’s fine, yeah, like they should spend time with each other, I don’t mind that part. Just… Hongjoong did it too and rain checked one of our producing lessons because he was apparently too busy with his own work and — and...”

Yeosang’s voice dies in his throat when he finally brings his gaze up to look Seonghwa in the eye, and the expression staring back at him is so raw and understanding that Yeosang cannot physically force any words out at that point. A small smile curls at the edges of Seonghwa’s lips, he huffs out a quiet laugh, and then his chin dips closer to his chest as the laugh overwhelms him. Yeosang, on the other hand, feels positively childish and stupid now that the admission is out there.

“I told them people would start noticing,” Seonghwa mutters more to himself than to Yeosang, but the younger picks up on the comment nonetheless. So he does know what’s going on between them. “Listen, Yeosang, yes, Wooyoung and Hongjoong are spending lots more time together. Yes, they are being a bit inconsiderate when it comes to the other members, but they are… at a phase in their relationship with each other where it’s easy to get caught up and spend unearthly amounts of time together. I have talked with both of them before about being a bit less persistent and intense, as well as prioritizing other people before themselves. But I am more than happy to talk with them about it again if it would help satiate your hurt feelings a bit?”

At least Seonghwa didn’t call him out on his jealousy. He should be grateful for that much. Why isn’t he grateful for that much? Oh, because of whatever the fuck Seonghwa’s rant is supposed to mean. ‘At a phase in their relationship with each other where it’s easy to get caught up and spend unearthly amounts of time together?’ What the hell is that supposed to mean? Seonghwa is still smiling like he knows, and Yeosang is fully aware that Seonghwa does truly know because there is that lingering odd emotion behind his eyes again that Yeosang despises so much.

“I — wait, what?” Yeosang’s brain is running on pure fumes at this point. The confusion has mounted into something immense, and he hardly remembers why he was so upset at this point now because of the bewilderment rushing through his system.

“I can talk with them again if you’d like?” Seonghwa repeats his previous offer, eyes wide as he blinks at Yeosang and awaits an answer.

“No, the — the part about their relationship?”

Seonghwa glances off to the side, and he seems to think over what he’s said before his eyes widen a bit in shock.

“A-Ah! Um, no, don’t — I don’t mean anything crude, of course!” Anything crude? Yeosang’s mind certainly wasn’t going down that path before but now that Seonghwa has mentioned that, it is now. And frankly, that throws him off more than anything else because he never would have assumed that that is what was going on behind those closed doors or anything. He has known Wooyoung swings both ways with little care since well before Wooyoung knew himself, and well, Hongjoong told the whole group that he’s pansexual when they chose him to be the leader because of transparency and honesty or some shit like that but... still. Yeosang would expect something like that to happen between Wooyoung and San but with Hongjoong? He can’t even imagine that — not that he wants to imagine it! He would never do that!

Yeosang’s cheeks flush a deep red when he realizes what Seonghwa means, and the older in turn figures out that Yeosang’s mind was indeed not traveling down that path and he has just caused it to. It’s a disaster, truly, and neither of them seem put together enough to even try to recover the situation. All Seonghwa does is push up from his chair and move towards the door. Yeosang doesn’t have time to wonder what the hell he’s doing or if he’s preparing to kick Yeosang out because when Seonghwa opens the door, it’s Wooyoung who stumbles in with a huff.

“Hyung,” he whines through a pout, not even taking notice of Yeosang’s presence on the edge of Hongjoong’s bed. “He sent me back here and said to wait another hour for him to come home. A whole hour!”

Seonghwa bears a strained smile, and he must look over in Yeosang’s direction because only then does Wooyoung shift and take note of the other presence in the room.

“Oh shit, were you guys — do I need to leave?”

“No, Woo, we were just having a chat,” Seonghwa insists, waving the younger man in. Wooyoung regards his best friend with a wary stare that has Yeosang’s stomach turning in knots several times before he swallows the feeling down. “Um, but since you’re here, this is the perfect opportunity to chat! Between the two of you!‌ So why don’t I step out and—”

“No, hyung, it’s okay.” Yeosang is the one to utter the words, and he does so as he pushes to his feet and away from Hongjoong’s bed. This is not what he came here to do, and yes, Seonghwa is right: they should talk, Yeosang should be honest about his feelings, but he also knows Wooyoung. He knows Wooyoung will whine and complain about Yeosang being too clingy or pointless jealousy or roll his eyes and unintentionally make Yeosang feel even worse about how he feels because that is just the way the other man is. It’s not from a bad place or a toxic place, merely Wooyoung’s way of handling issues, and inevitably Wooyoung will come crawling back to Yeosang’s bunk and cuddle him for a week straight before even thinking to hang out with another member. But right now, that isn’t what Yeosang wants. Mostly because he does not want to acknowledge his jealousy or the fact that it isn’t solely directed at Hongjoong spending time with Wooyoung. It is also directed at Wooyoung who is taking away from Yeosang’s time with the leader. Yeosang needs to work out those feelings before even thinking to discuss the issue with either man.

Seonghwa fixes him a startled glance, one that flits back to Wooyoung’s form several times, but Yeosang ignores it in favor of walking towards the door and replacing Wooyoung’s spot in the doorway. The oldest doesn’t seem pleased with his avoidance, as evidenced by the way he clamps a hand down hard around Yeosang’s arm before he can fully step out. 

“I don’t want to have to play the parent and mediate between the two of you here,” he hisses more to Yeosang than to Wooyoung, but the youngest of the trio hears the words nonetheless and blinks over at his best friend with a bewildered expression. It’s then that Yeosang knows with full clarity that he is completely and utterly caught. Even if he tries to escape now, Wooyoung will come running after him and demand an explanation. “If he hears it from you then he’ll be more like to pull his act together and realize that I’m being serious.”

“Is something going on?” Wooyoung inquires at last, voice much fainter than it had been before. Yeosang manages to slip one glare in Seonghwa’s direction before he dares to face Wooyoung head-on. 

“I just came to ask hyung why you seem to be spending so much time with Hongjoong these days.”

And Wooyoung has the nerve, he has the audacity, to actually look startled by that statement. Like he cannot believe that someone has caught on and realized how much time he’s spending with the leader, and he cannot believe Yeosang would go to Seonghwa of all people for answers. When Wooyoung shifts to look at the oldest, Yeosang doesn’t miss the way he sends a panicked expression of ‘what the fuck did you say to him’ and that’s when Yeosang’s mind really spirals.

At this point, he just wants to know what the fuck is going on so he can push his mind away from the gutter, but Wooyoung’s flushed cheeks and nervous glances are doing nothing to deter Yeosang from having the thought that perhaps Hongjoong and Wooyoung are spending their time together in a more intimate manner and he really needs to —

“He’s bothered by the fact that you keep shrugging him off for Hongjoong,” Seonghwa states, bringing Yeosang’s rampant thoughts to a screeching halt in an instant. “Which I told you both about before but you insisted th—”

“Hyung, it’s really okay, I just meant it as a harmless question, I’m not — it isn’t a big deal.” 

“Is this about me rain checking you on Thursday?” Wooyoung asks. He points an accusatory finger in Yeosang’s direction, and the older of the two is certain that he doesn’t mean it in an accusatory way but he feels pinned and cornered by the gesture either way. “Yeo, I’m really sorry about that. I just wasn’t feeling up to going out that day and—”

“But you went to hyung’s studio right after and didn’t come back until Hongjoong-hyung did,” Yeosang counters before he can stop himself. That lingering bitterness returns to his gut as he mentions the memory, along with the subsequent memory of Hongjoong pushing him to the side for time with Wooyoung.

“In the studio?! Are you two out of your minds?!” Seonghwa hisses and reels on Wooyoung, who blinks back like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“It’s — Yeosang is right there, hyung! Can’t you save the lecture for later? Or go chew hyung’s ear off instead of mine? It was his idea!”

“His idea? His idea! Of course it was. Let me guess: he felt bad for pushing me out of the room so much?” Seonghwa scoffs none too quietly. The bigger picture is started to come together, the puzzle pieces are slotting into place, and Yeosang is edging dangerously close to what he believes to be the truth. 

He can’t stand the suffocation that comes in the air a moment later, almost like his own throat is trying to choke him and end him right then and there. So, he does the only logical thing he can think of and slips out of the open bedroom door as Seonghwa snatches Wooyoung’s ear and tugs mercilessly on the cartilage. The content of their argument is no longer important, not with the knowledge Yeosang has gotten so far, and it’s frankly stupid that he is even feeling so… whatever he is feeling right now. He wanted an explanation, he wanted to know what secrets they were hiding behind closed doors, and all the signs are pointing to one thing Yeosang doesn’t want to imagine.

Yeosang unfortunately doesn’t make it even a foot outside the door before he is running face-first into someone, and judging by the height of the person he nearly just clobbered to the floor, it has to be none other than Hongjoong. Yeosang steadies himself on the other’s shoulders to keep them both from tumbling, and he brings a shaky gaze to the person’s features in search of a confirmation.

Sure enough, it’s Hongjoong, alright. Beanie squishing his mop of hair down, thick black-rimmed glasses sitting atop his dainty nose, and a bag slung over his shoulder that must contain his producing equipment. Yeosang says the only thing he can think of, which seems to be a common trend with him today.

“You’re back early.”

Hongjoong regards him with an expression of confusion and bewilderment, then Yeosang realizes that Hongjoong only told Wooyoung that part so he shouldn’t really have that knowledge, but then again, what’s the big deal? Why should it be odd for Wooyoung to tell his best friend something about their leader? Is that a secret for just the two of them to know as well? Or can Seonghwa be included in their little secret circle too?

“Yeah, I — I thought I would be able to focus but I kept getting distracted so I just packed up and came home to work on stuff instead.”

Yeosang dares to ask.

“Can I come by and work with you on some stuff then?”

“A-Ah, maybe in a bit? I’ll text you and let you know. I really need to hunker down on these…” Hongjoong trails off and rubs at the back of his neck. Yeosang doesn’t miss the way the older man glances off towards the door to his and Seonghwa’s bedroom. 

“Yeah, of course, hyung, no worries,” he forces out, adding a tight smile that he hopes will ease Hongjoong’s stress a bit. The older nods as Yeosang steps out of the way, heading into the bedroom without further ado. 

There is no real reason for Yeosang to stick around so he doesn’t; he merely heads for the living room and makes himself at home on the couch, perching on the cushions in a way that gives him a clear view directly down the hall. He has one more lasting curiosity, and he’s determined to get the answer right now rather than waiting god knows how long for the next opportunity. Thus, he waits. Two minutes pass, then ten, along with some slightly raised voices and Yeosang is sure that Seonghwa is chewing them both out in there, but he can’t make out anything of what they’re saying. Then after twenty long minutes, Seonghwa slips out of the room with a huff and a grumble, eyes rolling nearly to the back of his head, and he snaps the door shut behind him. He doesn’t even glance Yeosang’s way as he dips into the kitchen, although that’s probably because he’s covering his eyes with one of his hands and mumbling about always getting a headache because of those two. 

Still, Yeosang waits. Another two minutes meld into ten. Wooyoung still hasn’t left the confines of Hongjoong’s room. It’s odd and peculiar in his mind because Hongjoong insisted that he needed to focus, he needed to work, but Wooyoung has to be — and Yeosang says this as lovingly as possible — the most distracting human being on the face of the planet. 

It is enough to grab Yeosang’s attention by the horns and drive him to push up off the couch. He doesn’t think twice about what he is doing, that twisting and churning in his gut is the only thing on his mind right now, but he doesn’t stop his warpath until he reaches the end of the hallway where Hongjoong’s door sits on the right. A few seconds of precious silence pass, then he leans towards the wood and presses his ear to it. 

For a moment, he feels entirely too foolish because he doesn’t hear a thing other than the quiet clicking and tapping of what must be Hongjoong’s computer. He turns to leave with his chin tucked to his chest in shame at the thought of how certain he was they were doing something… something in there. Then there’s a quiet moan, followed by an airy giggle that can only be Wooyoung, and a sharply hissed ‘stop that’ from Hongjoong.

“But I’m having fun, hyung. Aren’t you having fun?”

“The only thing I’m supposed to be having is you sit still while I work. You promised to be good if I came home early.”

“And you promised to make me see stars with how hard you’d fuck me. That’s not happening right now either, is it? So why don’t we…”

Yeosang’s brain turns to radio noise. Television static. Microwave beeping. All three at once. Or is that an actual microwave beeping? Is Seonghwa cooking something? He has no clue. He can’t see straight either honestly, mind too overwhelmed with what he has just heard, and shaky legs carry him back to his own door before pushing him inside with as much haste as he can muster. 

Fuck me.

Wooyoung said the words with undeniable clarity. Yeosang shakes against the door, hand still clasped tight around the knob as though it will do him any good. 

Fuck. me.

It really shouldn’t be a big deal. Yeosang should not be bothered. It’s only natural and expected for men of their age to have pent-up sexual frustrations, and of course, they have every right to exercise those urges however they want. Given their orientations, they would slot together perfectly too so why, why, why is Yeosang so bothered right now? It’s shameful the way his jealousy twists further in his gut, and he slides down the door until he’s planted firmly on the ground with knees drawn up to his chest.

He feels so fucking foolish. Thinks back to all the times he and Wooyoung have cuddled and been in close proximity over the years. The way he tried to be daring and bridge the gap between them. The lingering curiosity of blossoming emotions in his chest. The moment he realized where he sat on the spectrum when Wooyoung’s laugh sent such intense feelings of pure love through his chest that Yeosang couldn’t look him in the eye for well over a week after. Hands searching for Wooyoung’s in the dark, clasping tight together, and the fleeting sensation of lips dragging over Yeosang’s knuckles. Breathy laughs exchanged in the dark, soft admissions of love that Yeosang refused to amount to anything more than a friendship but secretly — oh so secretly he wished for more. Wooyoung’s touchy affections that came in the form of sloppy kisses on the cheek and teasing bites to the neck and shoulder. Then came San. Wooyoung stealing away from him. Hands finding San’s instead, hugs and cuddles going to the other man as Yeosang fell further and further away without even trying to pull Wooyoung back. He watched him go without putting up a fight.

What did he do then? The only thing he thought was logical: seek out the member he has the most in common with, the one who seems to understand him better than anyone, one of the view who understands and appreciates his need for quiet moments of peace.

Hongjoong.

Late nights in the studios, backs hunched and aching as they bent over a computer and Hongjoong showed him the steps to his artistic process. Compliments shared in amazement and wonder because Yeosang could not fathom how incredible Kim Hongjoong could be, yet still the older managed to exceed any expectations like it was the easiest thing on earth. The pride that would swell in Yeosang’s chest when Hongjoong congratulated him on a job well done, when he would mention the younger on his lives, the excitement in his hyung’s eyes whenever Yeosang would pop his head into the studio late at night. Hongjoong clasping a hand over Yeosang’s own shaky ones as he practiced for a cover. Whispered praises and reassurances when Yeosang would miss a note or slip up. Slow patience that waited for him without fail. Yeosang hates that he was foolish enough to let those feelings of admiration morph into the desire to be close to Hongjoong all the time, to cling to him, kiss him, have him for himself. 

And he especially hates that he was never able to bury those dwindling emotions of love and affection he felt towards Wooyoung, because now? Now it’s like he is living a nightmare. Watching the two people he has feelings for come together in a relationship that holds some of the greatest moments of intimacy. And sure, yes, Yeosang acknowledges that it could be something purely physical for them, but that doesn’t negate the fact that the two people he has feelings for are fucking and have been fucking right under his nose for the last several weeks. He wishes he could be heartbroken or something along those lines because that would be a normal reaction. That would be typical and explainable and easier to manage than the sensation in Yeosang’s gut. In that moment, he gets some clarity that it is, in fact, not jealousy of either party. It’s a desire to be involved, a want to be there with them, and a need to be involved. Did he mistake it for jealousy? Every time he saw one running to the other, he thought it was merely envy that twisted his gut, but now… now Yeosang is coming to realize that it wasn’t envy or anything like that. He just wanted to be another piece in their puzzle because those two are the ones he’s closest to (and effectively has all too real feelings for), and it pains him so much that his eyes burn. 

There are tears on his cheeks now surely, but his body has entered an odd state of numbness that he can’t piece together and cannot bother to piece together either. He doesn’t think twice before pushing himself back up to his feet, hands shaky and unstable as he moves for the dresser and pulls out a fresh set of clothes, dead set on taking the bathroom and washing his feelings away in the shower. What Yeosang doesn’t account for, however, is someone being in the hall at the same time he is, and he runs face-first into a chest.

“Yeosang?”

Fuck, and it just has to be Yunho of all people too. The one who probably won’t let Yeosang get by without drawing all his worries out of him and making sure he’s alright. And no, he’s not alright, and he doesn’t really want to be right now, but Yunho doesn’t need to know that. So Yeosang shrugs off the hands that find a home on his arms and tries to step around Yunho to get to the bathroom that is so so close yet so far away because of the wall standing before him.

“Are you alright? What happened? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, leave it alone, Yun,” Yeosang mutters through his teeth. But apparently, he can’t have a moment’s peace because Seonghwa must have heard the litany of questions and gotten concerned as well, his voice coming up behind Yeosang like a cruel shadow.

“Yeosang? Is something wrong?”

Yeosang doesn’t turn around but he doesn’t need to because Seonghwa closes the distance between them and steals a glance around his shoulder nonetheless. Yunho seems to be in the dark still in the very least, but Seonghwa will most certainly be able to figure out the source of his tears.

“Yeo… this — how bad is it? This is why I wanted you two to settle it then and there!”‌ Seonghwa exhales. His brows draw together to form a tight line that pains Yeosang to look at.

“Settle what?” Yunho inquires, blinking between both men, and his grip on Yeosang’s arms finally relents in that moment of shock. Yeosang takes the moment of freedom like a lifeline and pushes past Yunho to dart into the bathroom without further ado. Neither man behind him can catch him before he snaps the door shut in their faces, twisting the lock and trapping himself in the small room.

“Yeosang!” Seonghwa calls through the door, and he brings his fist down on the wood as though it will do any good.

“Maybe we should give him some space, hyung…” Yunho’s voice fades into the static running through Yeosang’s mind, and he no longer processes their conversation as he cranks the handle of the shower to let the water heat up. The pain in his chest also dulls, but only when he lets hot water run over his bare back, forehead pressed to the tiled wall. 

Things are catching up to him now. Reality is seeping in and he is realizing all the things that have been happening behind their backs for the past several weeks. He blames his own imagination for the flashes that come through his mind as he tries to wash the feelings away. Wooyoung pressed under Hongjoong’s weight, fervent touches and lingering kisses. The same hands that held Yeosang’s dragging over the contours of muscles and skin, filling in the gaps that Yeosang wishes he could have filled. Or perhaps Wooyoung would curl himself into Hongjoong’s lap and hold the leader as close as possible as he so dearly loves to do with the others. 

Perhaps it is more intimate and special with the two of them, however, and maybe Hongjoong fucks up into Wooyoung like that, holds him close while he works in the studio, and maybe that’s what they do when Yeosang is turned away. He bets that Hongjoong praises Wooyoung too as he loves to give all the members a litany of praises whenever they do something well, and Yeosang’s desires turns ugly when he thinks of Wooyoung being praised for being good for Hongjoong, nice and pliant and perfect for him, and fuck Yeosang wants to be part of it so badly it hurts. He wants Wooyoung to stand off to the side and watch, wants his own best friend to see him fall apart under Hongjoong’s touch. Wooyoung is such a brat that he probably acts that way in bed as well, and Yeosang feels nearly light-headed as he imagines himself being the one to receive Hongjoong’s attention and subsequently Wooyoung’s as well like he would be some example for Wooyoung to follow on how to be good. 

Yeosang doesn’t feel disgusted by the thoughts but rather the way his own body responds to the images floating through his mind, the way his member reacts to it, and the temptation to reach down and stroke himself to completion is intoxicating. He cranks the water instead so that it’s nearly icy on his skin to keep his mind from wandering too much into the inappropriate territory even though it’s already there.

The cold is barely enough to stave off Yeosang’s churning gut because the sound of that quiet moan and Wooyoung’s delicate giggle are in his ears again even as he steps out of the shower and wipes the droplets away with a towel. It persists even when he leaves the bathroom, darting into the hall to make a break for his room in case anyone was outside waiting for him, but thankfully this time he has the hallway to himself and can make it to his shared room with Wooyoung without much issue. Yeosang only says ‘much’ because just before he opens the door, a noise carries down the hall and to his ears. One that is unmistakable but most likely only audible to someone like Yeosang who is standing in the hallway. 

Another moan. This one is much more high-pitched and strung out than the last, bordering on the territory of a squeal, and based on the all too loud thud that follows, Yeosang can picture what’s going on with too much clarity.

“Hyung!” Yeosang’s heart surges forward in his chest, and he whips around like someone else has spoken the word, but it’s very clearly Wooyoung’s tone. Nonetheless, Yeosang shoves himself into his bedroom and snaps the door shut behind him as quickly as possible, flipping the lock for good measure because his cock is too hard to be ignored now. Part of him wishes he had more willpower to avoid this, and yet he’s too weak in the end. 

Less than five minutes later, Yeosang finds himself curled under the sheets of his bunk, eyes blown wide open and staring at the ceiling above his head as he drags the flat of his hand over his cock. The friction is delectable at best but still not enough to satiate the arousal blooming in his gut. Arousal that only deepens when his mind recreates the images from earlier. This time he’s with them, imagining himself sitting off to the side as Hongjoong works on‌ Wooyoung’s body.

“Sit still and watch me punish him.”

Curse his imagination for being so potent that he can practically hear Hongjoong’s words on his ears.

“Touch yourself for us, Sangie, you know you want to,” Wooyoung would purr, still giggling even though he’s in trouble and about to be punished. 

Yeosang presses his palm down harder against his cock. He won’t last more than two minutes like this; he’ll probably come like a teenager in less than that if he jerks himself with too much haste. So he forms a tight ring around the base of his cock and squeezes just hard enough to stave off the heady sensation in his veins. He debates going down to grab the small bottle of lube from Wooyoung’s end table. That’s too much effort right now, he needs his release soon, and he frankly doesn’t have enough patience in his body at the moment to finger himself open.

“You’ll be good and come when Wooyoung does, won’t you, Sangie?”

He wants to so badly. He knows he would be so good under Hongjoong’s control, he would take anything given to him because he wants that so badly, he wants someone to take the control from his hands and be at their mercy. He wouldn’t fight it or talk back, he would be so good it hurts, and a weak mewl tumbles from his lips before he can stop it. 

Yeosang flings his free hand up to cover his mouth as though someone is going to hear the quiet noises, and when he presses the butt of his hand down again, more whimpers fall out. He can’t stop the noises nor does he try to any longer. The desire for a release is too overwhelming, mixed voices touching his imagination and seeming too real for Yeosang to handle as he ruts helplessly against his palm for that delicious bit of friction. And when he comes, he comes hard and fast, eyes rolling back in pleasure as his hips continue to cant up into his hand. He moans out Hongjoong’s name as he comes and doesn’t stop to think about quieting the noise this time in his fog of pleasure. Come spills over his palm only to be smeared over his skin when he can’t stop the movements of his hips. If he thought that would end the vision in his head, he was quite wrong, because after the haze covering his thoughts disperses a bit, it comes rushing back.

“I thought you said you’d be good for us, Sangie. You came before me.”

“I told you to come with Wooyoung, baby. Why couldn’t you do that simple task?”

“You always say that you’re going to be good for us, Sangie. Yet you can’t even seem to live up to those words.”

The tears that hit Yeosang’s cheeks next are ones that come from pure overstimulation and eustasy. Heat swarms his skin, a pretty pink blush that causes his whole body to flush, and his hips just don’t stop moving even as his mind cries out for a release from the self-inflicted torture.

“Pl-Please, Woo,” Yeosang whimpers to the air above him. “I’ll — I’ll be good. I’ll be so good, p-please.” It is all too much for him to handle right then because the next thing he knows, he is coming yet again, but it’s a painfully dry orgasm since he didn’t give himself any recovery time. He releases a choked sob that breaks into a strangled moan instead, then his hips finally rest and give his poor leaking member a break. The only thing that can leave his lips for several minutes is a series of gasps and pants, chest heaving desperately as he tries to catch his breath.

When he finally recovers, Yeosang pulls himself down from the bunk and strips once more now that he’s gotten the fresh set of clothes dirty and soiled. It’s as he is pulling a shirt over his head that the door handle jiggles to no avail.

“Sangie? Did you lock the door?”

Fuck. Wooyoung. He won’t have any knowledge of what Yeosang has just done, or that Yeosang knows what he was just doing himself, but the red hot shame burning in Yeosang’s gut. He just jerked off to the thought of his best friend and his hyung including him in their personal business. Yeosang doesn’t even know if either of them would be okay with such a thing, and yet —

“Yeosang? Are you in there or not?”

“S-Shit,” Yeosang exhales to himself, tugging his shirt the rest of the way and rushing to get to the door. He flips the lock and swings the door wide open to greet Wooyoung with wide eyes and mussed hair. Wooyoung’s hair is damp and clinging to his forehead; he looks fresh out of a shower, and Yeosang has no doubt that he and Hongjoong showered together after their… activities. “Yeah, sorry, S-Seonghwa-hyung wouldn’t get the hint that I didn’t wanna talk to him right now.” It’s only a partial lie, enough to cover what Yeosang was actually up to, and Wooyoung seems to buy it by the way he shrugs his shoulders quickly and brushes past Yeosang to get in the room. He doesn’t stay long, however, coming in simply to fetch his phone before darting back out of the room. Yeosang wants to ask where he is going, but at the same time, he can probably guess that it has something to do with San or Hongjoong again.

Yeosang doesn’t stay to watch him go. Instead, he dips back into their shared bedroom and shuts the door, intent to sleep through the rest of the day and push these lingering thoughts out of his mind. It’s only when Wooyoung returns hours later whining to himself about how San never lets him win a game that Yeosang dares to speak. He waits until his friend curls up in bed and gets comfortable, throat lodged with emotion.

“I…”

Wooyoung doesn’t offer even a noise of acknowledgment. Maybe he’s already fallen asleep. Perhaps Yeosang shouldn’t say anything or he should say this for another time, but right now he just wants to see. Test the waters. Gauge his reaction.

“I know about you and Hongjoong-hyung, Woo.” Curse him for stuttering when he did, and curse him for not having the balls to say it outright. How hard should it be for you to say to your best friend “I know you’re fucking our group leader under everyone’s noses”? Saying something cryptic like “I know what you’re doing with hyung” sounded too scary in Yeosang’s mind, but maybe he could have had a better approach. Especially since the bunk under his creaks and the sheets jostle, then a Wooyoung-shaped shadow darts across the room. The door swings open, Wooyoung slips out, then it slams shut, causing way too much noise for the hour.

Yeosang isn’t sure what he was expecting. He knows Wooyoung avoids confrontation. This should have been expected, yet as Yeosang curls onto his side and faces the wall, the tears that slip out his eyes are more painful than before, and he thinks vaguely in the back of his mind that Wooyoung doesn’t want him to have anything to do with the relationship he shares with Hongjoong.

Morning is awkward and stilted. Wooyoung most definitely went to Hongjoong’s room and told him what Yeosang said; Yeosang can see it in the way Hongjoong’s gaze slips between both boys throughout breakfast. He is a bit thankful that Hongjoong doesn’t look towards him with the same amount of fear and shame as Wooyoung did earlier, and there is no disgust or embarrassment in his stare either — only concern. Seonghwa is still worried about Yeosang’s crying in the hallway yesterday, as is Yunho because the dancer got Yeosang coffee and a plate of food, staying by his side all throughout breakfast with a hand placed over Yeosang’s thigh the entire time. The tension is palpable, and there’s no doubt that everyone knows something is wrong in some way.

Seonghwa keeps sending Hongjoong looks across the table, even as San and Yunho try to bring some energy back to the table and dispel the awkwardness. Those glances are probably the thing that prompt the leader to speak. And so, Hongjoong is the one to breach the subject, but he does it in a way that Yeosang could never have expected, and based on the way Seonghwa chokes on his syrupy coffee, the older had no clue this was Hongjoong’s plan either.

“Some of you have noticed that Wooyoung and I are spending a lot more time together these days.” Yeosang dares to look over at his friend, but the man is staring down at the table with cheeks so red and flushed that he’s nearly purple. “It’s because we’re fucking.”

There goes Seonghwa choking on his coffee, Mingi gags around a mouthful of rice, Yunho’s hand squeezes painfully on Yeosang’s thigh, San bites back a laugh and cheeky smile, and Jongho drops his spoon on the edge of the table in shock. Another clatter follows as the same spoon hits the ground, but Jongho doesn’t even move to pick it up and instead stares directly at Hongjoong like the leader like he’s just kicked a dog or something.

“Does anyone have a problem with that?”

Hongjoong’s gaze finds Yeosang immediately. Oh, so the question is targeted at him. Yet even as everyone else at the table denies there being any issue with such a thing, Yeosang can’t bring himself to shake his head or deny it. It’s not that he does have a legitimate issue with it, he merely wishes to slot himself in their space and be part of it. He can’t very well admit that over breakfast with the rest of the group though, especially not with how Wooyoung reacted last night. Hongjoong doesn’t wait for a response.

“Just because we have this relationship now doesn’t mean any of the group dynamics should or have to change. We are by no means exclusive or closed off to just each other. Understood?”

A chorus of affirmations greet Hongjoong, and Yeosang actually joins in this time despite the clench of his heart.

If Hongjoong expected the conversation to fix everything on a whim, then he would be sorely incorrect.

Wooyoung continues to avoid Yeosang. He won’t come into the room at the same time as Yeosang, only comes to sleep if San or Hongjoong kicks him out of their rooms, and is always either sleeping or gone by the time Yeosang gets up. Despite Yeosang constantly looking over at his friend, Wooyoung almost never looks back, and when he does, his expression twinges with something Yeosang would almost call guilt. He tries not to think about that bit too hard or too much.

Hongjoong, on the other hand, actually makes an effort to do things differently. He invites Yeosang to the studio much more often, asks him to accompany him as he picks up food for the rest of the group at least two times a week, and Yeosang finds himself frequenting Hongjoong’s room to work on producing practice a lot more as well.

Yeosang can’t complain because it’s what he wanted and missed so dearly, and he should be content that at least one of his crushes is giving him such devoted attention, but he is loathe to admit that part of his heart is dedicated to Wooyoung and Wooyoung only. That part is shattered in a thousand pieces every time Wooyoung sees him and turns to go in the opposite direction. He doesn’t last longer than a week with Wooyoung’s behavior, and the breaking point is a Saturday evening when Yeosang steps out of his room to see Wooyoung leaving Hongjoong’s with an unreadable expression. Hongjoong steps into the doorway right after, hand chasing Wooyoung’s and catching hold of it before the younger can dip out of his reach.

And now, Yeosang suddenly feels like he’s watching something that he shouldn’t be because Hongjoong places his free hand on Wooyoung’s cheek and leans his forehead against the other man’s, lips moving quickly and quietly as they speak to each other. Wooyoung nods several times before stepping back and turning around. His body tenses a bit as he sees Yeosang standing at the other end of the hall. They regard each other with equally wide eyes and lingering stares for several seconds before Hongjoong prompts Wooyoung to move by slapping the flat of his hand down hard on his ass. Wooyoung releases a startled yelp, cheeks flushing a dark red before he rushes to San and Yunho’s door and enters without even bothering to knock.

Hongjoong finally looks at Yeosang. The younger can’t describe the feeling that swoops through his gut, but Hongjoong is smirking at him and making him feel like that infinite space between their bodies is nonexistent. It’s like the man is standing right before him and cascading warm breath over his lips and neck, then he tilts his head to the side and motions towards his bedroom.

“Did you still wanna get some work done?”

Yeosang responds with a quick nod and dips back into his own room to snatch his phone up off the dresser before fully stepping into the hall to meet Hongjoong by his door.

“No laptop?” The older regards him with a curious stare even as Yeosang shakes his head a bit.

“Just wanna watch you work some, I think. If that’s okay?”

Hongjoong’s lips twist into a gentle smile, and warmth fills his gut.

“Of course, Yeo, come on.”

Yeosang half-expects the room to reek of sex and debauchery, or for the bed to be a wreck, but that’s not the case. Everything is almost too perfect by Hongjoong’s standards, like Seonghwa came through and raided the room before Yeosang stepped in. In fact, he’s almost certain that Hongjoong went the extra mile to change the sheets, but he doesn’t comment on it even as Hongjoong settles down in the bed and pats the empty space next to him. Yeosang climbs up beside him, heart in his throat and threatening to choke him out.

“I think I’ll be able to finish this one either today or tomorrow so I can submit it for the next album,” Hongjoong mutters. Yeosang watches with wide and careful eyes as he tugs his laptop into his lap, pulling the music file up to pick up where he left off. Yeosang is frankly not paying any attention to what’s happening on Hongjoong’s screen. He’s too busy looking at the man’s side profile, the way his brows draw together in concentration. Hoodie drawn over his head with headphones pressed over one ear and the other pressed further back on his hood.

“Hyung…” Yeosang trails off, unsure of how to voice what it is he’s after, and Hongjoong’s lingering stare only makes him more nervous. But then, the older shifts in the bed and presses his back further against his pillows. He lays his laptop to the side, for the time being, throwing his legs out, and Yeosang inhales sharply at the way Hongjoong motions to the space between them. Is he asking Yeosang to —

“Do you wanna lie down?”

Oh. Of course. Why would he think Hongjoong wanted something else when he and Wooyoung have each other for that? Still, Yeosang slips between Hongjoong’s legs and presses his head to the man’s stomach like it’s glass. Once he’s fully situated and comfortable, Hongjoong pulls his laptop back, placing it atop Yeosang’s stomach without missing a beat. The angle is a bit awkward on his neck, but Yeosang doesn’t complain because he gets to be this close to Hongjoong and in his arms like this. It’s practically intoxicating, and Yeosang almost feels light-headed by the time Hongjoong shifts their position to tug Yeosang further up on his chest, letting the younger drop his head into the crook of his shoulder.

Hongjoong doesn’t speak; he merely lets Yeosang rest against him like that with the familiar beat of his track playing faintly through his headset, and Yeosang watches on with less interest than usual as he drags things across the screen and into place. Then, after some unknown amount of time, Hongjoong decides to pipe up.

“When I talked to the group last week about Wooyoung and me, you were the only one not to say you were okay with the arrangement.” He murmurs the words softly, and Yeosang nearly doesn’t pick up on them at all. The moment they process though, he stiffens in Hongjoong’s hold. Although the man isn’t holding him there against his will, Yeosang feels somehow trapped and unable to escape.

“W-Wooyoung — he ran away from me.” Maybe that’s an exaggeration but the man did straight up bolt out of the room when Yeosang brought it up.

“He’s afraid that you hate him.”

That has Yeosang pulling himself forward, knocking Hongjoong’s hands away from where his laptop sits in Yeosang’s lap. Yeosang has enough decency to snap the laptop shut and push it to the foot of the bed before shifting to face Hongjoong. The look in the leader’s eyes is unreadable when they finally look at each other.

“Why would I hate him?”

Hongjoong merely lifts a brow in response. He seems to weigh his next words on his tongue and teases the corner of his lips a few times before deciding to speak.

“Do you not?”

“Of course not,” Yeosang mumbles. “I don’t hate either of you.” He dares to look towards Hongjoong once more, eyes finding the leader’s and searching for any sort of reaction but there isn’t much there. 

“Then why didn’t you come talk to me as well?”

“I figured…” Yeosang doesn’t really have a response for that. He was cowardly more than anything else and afraid of what sort of conversation they might end up having. “I thought you would want the conversation at breakfast to be the last of it.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to bring it up for the past week.”

“What?” Yeosang didn’t even have the slightest clue that Hongjoong was wanting to talk about it. Since everything fell back into their usual routine, he simply assumed that meant everything was fine.

“When you told Wooyoung that you knew about us, what were you referring to?”

Yeosang’s cheeks heat up a bit, and he has to drop his gaze to the bed.

“I heard the two of you… I heard — y-yeah.”

“Heard what?” Hongjoong presses again, and this time Yeosang releases an exasperated sigh.

“Christ, hyung, do I need to spell it out? I heard you both moaning a-and it didn’t take much to realize what you were doing!” That pulls a loud laugh from Hongjoong’s lips, and he throws his head back with the sound.

“That’s not what he thought you heard, Yeosang,” Hongjoong says through the laugh. Yeosang swallows hard in response, sitting back a bit more and straightening his back. “He thought you heard what came after that, which is why he’s been so avoidant with you.”

“What came after?” Yeosang echoes, instinctually gripping the sheets in his fists. Hongjoong’s lips stretch a bit further into a smile.  

“He also didn’t hear the noises coming from your room after because he was in the shower.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Yeosang is so fucked. Hongjoong heard that? What all did he hear? Yeosang remembers moaning Hongjoong’s name a bit too loudly, but he also said Wooyoung’s name, so which did he hear? Or did he hear both? How could he not say anything about it for an entire week?

“But frankly, I didn’t hear it either since I was with Wooyoung in the shower.”

Yeosang can hardly breathe at this point, eyes stuck and fixated on some point on the mattress, and that’s not what Hongjoong wants apparently because a single finger curls under the base of his chin. Hongjoong lifts his head until they can look each other in the eye again.

“Seonghwa told me that you had been crying before taking a shower yourself. Then after you came out, he went to check on you but your door was locked, and… he heard you inside moaning my name.”

“I-I can ex-explain. It’s not — it’s not what it looks like and I—”

“And Wooyoung’s.”

“Hyung, I…” Yeosang is fumbling to figure out what he can say to get himself out of this situation. This is probably the worst thing that can happen right now, and if Hongjoong knows, then Wooyoung most likely knows too and maybe that’s the real reason behind his avoidance these days. Maybe he’s so disgusted by what Yeosang did that he doesn’t want to even look at him again. But the look in his eyes has never been disgust — only some odd mixture between guilt and sadness. 

“I didn’t tell Wooyoung that part honestly. I figured… he wouldn’t take my word for it. So I think it would be better to show him, don’t you?”

“Show him what?” Yeosang exhales. Hongjoong presses forward so far that his breath ghosts over the younger’s lips, and Yeosang chokes on thin air.

“That you want him just as much as he wants you.”

“He… he wants me?” The disbelief is palpable, but Hongjoong is patient as always, releasing a small hum and shifting behind Yeosang to grab hold of his laptop and headphones again. 

“The thing he thought you heard that day — I enjoy riling him up maybe a bit too much, and I kept teasing him with the thought of someone walking in and catching us. The only person he wanted to interrupt was you, and he kept saying your name over and over like a prayer, so loud that he thought you heard him. And thus your reaction… or rather your confrontation scared him and made him think that you were disgusted by it.”

Yeosang feels like he’s been thrust underwater, ears ringing and head clogged with a myriad of thoughts that refuse to make any sense whatsoever. He understands the basic gist of what’s going on in the very least. Hongjoong knows he jerked off to the thought of him and Wooyoung, Wooyoung wants him to some degree, and Hongjoong is pressing closer and closer now that he has slid his laptop off the bed and tucked it under the bunk. And while Yeosang certainly doesn’t want him to stop, there is the nagging thought in the back of his mind that while Hongjoong said that Wooyoung wants him to some degree, Hongjoong never said whether he wants Yeosang in the same way or not.

“B-But what — what about you?” He whispers, too scared to raise his voice any further than that. Hongjoong hums as he leans a bit closer, and Yeosang falls back onto his elbows. “Do y-you want me too?”

“I certainly wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t,” Hongjoong says in response. He pauses in his push forward, giving Yeosang precious time to think and breathe easy for a few minutes. “But I won’t do anything that you don’t want to do, and I won’t push you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. Meaning that… if you want this but are uncomfortable with the idea of having an audience, we don’t have to have one.”

Audience? 

When the realization sinks in, Yeosang draws his hands up to cover his face and hide the rampant blush that takes over his cheeks. Hongjoong is quick to respond, hands coming up to join Yeosang’s and gently clasp around his wrists.

“It’s okay, Sangie, baby, you don’t need to hide.”

Baby. Kim Hongjoong is positively trying to kill him on the spot. 

“You’re so pretty, so so pretty especially when you blush like that,” Hongjoong continues. His voice comes out in a soft murmur, coating Yeosang’s ears like honey and dripping down to his gut where the threads of arousal begin to coil. 

“Hyung,” Yeosang exhales in a tone so breathy and whiny that it nearly doesn’t come out at all. 

“I need a firm yes or no on whether you want this before anything else, Yeosang.” Hongjoong begins to pull away, and that is the breaking point for Yeosang’s sanity practically because he lurches forward and snatches Hongjoong by the collar of his hoodie, wrenching him back down to hover mere centimeters over Yeosang’s lips.

“Yes, hyung, the answer is yes, please, for the love of all that is good in this world, please just—” 

Thank god Hongjoong cuts him off or else he would have just kept on babbling for an eternity. Yeosang falls quiet with a startled gasp as Hongjoong plants his lips atop the younger’s, and the arm that holds him up buckles under the sudden weight on his body. The both of them tumble down to the mattress at an awkward angle, Yeosang’s arm trapped behind his back and Hongjoong’s foot tangled in the sheets, but neither of them pay much attention to those issues. The priority seems to be each other’s lips, not that Yeosang is complaining about the way Hongjoong rushes to swipe his tongue over Yeosang’s lower lip. He grants entrance to his mouth with perhaps too much ease. The moment Hongjoong’s tongue breaches his lips and begins to explore his mouth, Yeosang chokes out a wanton moan that reverberates through the older’s mouth and pools heat in his gut. 

It’s only then that Yeosang decides to resituate their position some, and he kicks at the sheets to unravel them from Hongjoong’s feet before pressing up harder against the leader’s body. Hongjoong seems to get the hint and leans back as well, letting Yeosang have a few precious moments of control as he eases Hongjoong back onto the pillows and straddles his hips like this is what he was made to do. Yeosang is already panting and out of breath, cheeks alight with embarrassment still, but he looks an absolute vision in Hongjoong’s eyes with blond hair enveloping his forehead like a halo and lips glistening with spit. He finds a shred of sense left in him to ask one more question before he lets Yeosang dive back in for more.

“Do you want Wooyoung to watch?”

And this admittedly is not a fantasy Yeosang ever pictured or imagined. He figured he would be the one doing the watching, he would sit on the sidelines while the two fawned over each other and fucked, but this? This is something tantalizing indeed, and Yeosang would be damned if he didn’t take this golden opportunity now. Especially with the knowledge that both Hongjoong and Wooyoung have thought about him in the throes of passion.

“Is that what you thought of when you were jerking off, Sangie?” 

Yeosang can only whimper in reply, hands drawing up from where they sit atop Hongjoong’s chest to cover his blazing cheeks again, but Hongjoong is quicker this time. He keeps Yeosang’s hands right where they are by clasping his fingers around the other man’s wrists and watches on with pure admiration as Yeosang writhes a bit atop him.

“Hm? Is it, darling? Does dirty talk make you shy? We don’t have to do that if it makes you too uncomfortable. Give me a safe word as well just in case we need to stop.”

“No! No, no,” Yeosang denies in haste. “I… um, we can u-use red because that’s easy to remember.” Hongjoong offers a hum in approval, and Yeosang has to swallow his nerves before admitting the next bit. “I l-like being embarrassed a bit.”

“Do you, Sangie? Tell me what else you like.” Hongjoong is practically purring the words, and Yeosang thinks it will send him spiraling over the edge. The teasing glint in the older’s eyes is lethal too, turning Yeosang’s insides to mush and his limbs to jello, and he can’t think of anything he wants more right now than for Hongjoong to utterly wreck him on this very bed with Wooyoung watching on. 

“I like — like being good a-and hearing that I’m doing well.” Yeosang slips his hand around Hongjoong’s. He slowly tugs it upwards, guiding the man’s hand to his neck and measuring his reaction the entire time with wary eyes. Hongjoong seems to forget what breathing is for a moment, and when he finally does breathe again, it’s merely a sharp and painful inhale of air because Yeosang is closing Hongjoong’s own fingers around his neck and blinking at him with wide and innocent eyes. “Being choked feels really nice too. And I want Wooyoung to watch… to watch you ruin me.”

Hongjoong’s fingers twitch around his neck, and Yeosang knows that his words have a visceral effect on the man just by that reaction. He also feels the way Hongjoong’s cock twitches in the confines of his pants, right against the curve of Yeosang’s ass, and that brings a swell of pride to his chest.

“Do you want to ruin me, hyung?” He asks, batting his lashes for good measure, and fuck, it’s so worth it. It’s so worth it because Hongjoong growls in response and pushes Yeosang down so that he’s flat on the bed once more. 

“Fucking hell, Yeo, how can you be so — holy fuck, you’re so perfect.” Hongjoong maps a path from the tip of Yeosang’s nose down to the collar of his shirt with his lips, leaving a wet trail behind, and once he reaches the space hidden behind Yeosang’s shirt, he uses two fingers to tug the material down just enough to expose more of the milky skin underneath. Yeosang doesn’t have time to ask what he’s doing despite the confusion rushing through him because Hongjoong latches his lips around the spot, teeth nipping at the skin until red blooms under his touch. And god does it feel euphoric to be marked by Kim Hongjoong, to be claimed by him and wanted by him, and Yeosang is certain that all reason will leave his body before Wooyoung even gets involved. 

Hongjoong chooses that opportune moment to pull back. First, he admires the way Yeosang’s chest heaves, the way sweat beads his brow and causes his hair to cling to the skin there, and the way Yeosang already somehow looks so fucked out and beautiful that it’s unimaginable. He weaves his hands down the expanse of Yeosang’s chest to catch hold of the hem. Ever so slowly, Hongjoong tugs upwards, and it’s so painstakingly prolonged that Yeosang loses his patience before the shirt even reaches his sternum. He yanks the fabric from Hongjoong’s grasp and pulls it up over his head on his own, throwing it off to the side haphazardly without even bothering to check where it falls. He knows how to play Hongjoong so well, just what he needs to do to get under the man’s skin, and he does it with such ease that it’s laughable. Because the second Yeosang leans back to the bed and flutters his lashes up at Hongjoong, the leader is hissing through his teeth so loudly that the air comes out in a whistle. 

Then he grips his hoodie but the hem and tugs it over his head, but he leaves the plain undershirt underneath on for the time being as he twists around and catches hold of his phone. Yeosang’s arousal deepens as he watches Hongjoong tap furiously at the screen. Then he has an idea that is probably far too risky but also far too alluring to pass up on.

“H-Hyung, could you…” Yeosang loses the confidence to finish the question, hand stretched midway to Hongjoong’s. Still, Hongjoong pauses and looks directly at him. His dark eyes are glazed with lust and arousal, and they bear such a seriousness to them that Yeosang has to swallow around nothing to get his next words out. “Send him a picture,” he tries again, pushing more willpower in this time. “With your hand around my neck.”

“You’re unreal.” Hongjoong’s tone bears a quake this time, audible proof that Yeosang is having such an effect on the man, and the younger revels in it as he tugs Hongjoong’s hand down to the column of his throat. 

That’s all the incentive Hongjoong needs to bend over the other, and his hand squeezes a little bit around his throat. Yeosang’s cock twitches between his legs, right where his hyung’s crotch rubs atop his, and the sensation is so heady and thrilling that Yeosang dares to rut against Hongjoong again. He pushes his tongue out just a little bit, catches the tip between his teeth, then shows off the somehow innocent for the camera when Hongjoong angles it above his face. 

“For fuck’s sake, Yeo, I’m not gonna be able to wait for Wooyoung to drag his ass in here if you keep that up.” Hongjoong snaps the picture as quick as he can before tossing his phone off to the side in a huff.

“Keep what up?” Yeosang asks before sinking his teeth into his lower lip. The pair spend about two seconds staring at each other, Yeosang with a playful gleam to his gaze and Hongjoong with a more looming and dangerous one that has Yeosang’s stomach doing small backflips in anticipation. They’re interrupted by the sharp slam of a door somewhere in the dorm, and that’s followed by a skid and another smack of what sounds like a body on the wall. Another three seconds pass before the door to Hongjoong’s bedroom swings wide open, hitting the wall so hard that Seonghwa yells down the hall about disregard for common decency. 

“Can you at least pretend to be civilized, Wooyoung? You don’t need to act like an animal just because you’re about to get boned! And keep it quiet this time!”

The newcomer comes in a blur of dark hair and tossed garments, and Wooyoung doesn’t even wait for the door to be closed completely before he’s stripping down to his underwear.

“I’m here! I’m here, hi, fuck, oh my god, I’m here. Why didn’t you get me sooner, hyung?” Wooyoung hisses as he shuts the door in a rush, flipping the lock before stepping further into the room. 

“I didn’t tell him he’d just be watching,” Hongjoong whispers into the shell of Yeosang’s ear. It draws a blush out of the younger man, one that persists as he and Wooyoung make eye contact. Hongjoong drags the flat of his tongue across Yeosang’s cheek and presses a sweet row of kisses to the same line of skin a moment after. “Why don’t you break the news, darling?” 

“Break the news? The fuck, hyung? Did you invite me just to kick me out?” Wooyoung protests.

“I told you to trust me, you brat,” Hongjoong counters, passing a half-hearted glare towards the younger with a small sigh. “You’re here to watch the show.”

“Well, I’ll do that fucking gladly,” Wooyoung huffs. He makes for the bed, moving to join Hongjoong on top of the mattress, but Hongjoong slings his legs over Yeosang’s body and steps onto the floor to block Wooyoung’s way instead. Yeosang scrambles to push himself up onto his elbows. With wide eyes, he glances between the pair, swallowing around nothing when Wooyoung rakes his eyes over Yeosang’s bare chest leading down to the bulge in his sweats. Hongjoong places a hand over Wooyoung’s chest, and slowly but surely, the leader backs him up until he stumbles back into Seonghwa’s desk chair. “Hyung?”

“I said you get to watch. Not touch.”

“What? Hyung, you can’t seriously—”

“Per Yeosang’s request. Can’t you do it for him, my baby?” 

Wooyoung sucks his lower lip between his teeth and inhales sharply at the small pet name. Yeosang watches on with wide and curious eyes, from the way Hongjoong drags his hands over Wooyoung’s tan skin to the way Wooyoung’s hips tremble in an attempt to stay on the chair.

“Good boy,” Hongjoong hums when the younger doesn’t budge after a few moments. He slips back to the bed, still smiling from ear to ear as he moves, and he greets Yeosang with a wet and sloppy kiss. It’s a mess of teeth and spit, something inherently dirty in the best way possible, and Yeosang can’t hold back the light groan that rumbles through his throat when Hongjoong brings a hand down to palm at his erection. “You still want me to ruin you, darling?”

“Always,” Yeosang exhales against his lips. At that, Hongjoong leaves him with one more chaste kiss then dips lower, not wasting any more time before pulling something out from under his mattress. Yeosang’s body tenses in anticipation at the sight of it, and even more so when Hongjoong curls his fingers around the band of his sweats.

“Be as loud as you wish. Wooyoung is such a sucker for pretty moans,” Hongjoong teases, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Hyung!” Wooyoung protests in an instant, and he nearly bolts up from his chair. Hongjoong levels him with a glare though, the power dynamic slipping through and baring itself to Yeosang’s eyes, and it would taste a lie if he said he doesn’t want Hongjoong to dominate him in such a way as well. 

“Today is all about Yeo, but I’ll be kind enough to let you touch yourself too. But you can only come after he does.”

Wooyoung doesn’t voice his protests, but Yeosang can see the disapproval in his eyes. There is no opportunity to dwell on it for long because cold air suddenly hits his crotch and he feels his cock spring loose without warning. He draws his legs together to hide himself, a sudden bashfulness taking over him within seconds. Hongjoong drops his clothing off to the side, and it hits the floor with a soft thud before Hongjoong is back between his legs and easing his knees apart. 

“Don’t hide yourself, darling,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of Yeosang’s knee. “You’re so beautiful for us—” another kiss, this time higher on the inside of his thigh “—so precious and perfect. Next time I’ll let Wooyoung worship every inch of you, I promise.”

Next time. That insinuation has Yeosang preening, hips canting upwards towards Hongjoong’s body, and the older man stills him with a deftly placed palm on his cock.

“A-Ah, hyung,” Yeosang chokes out. The pressure increases a bit, drawing another louder moan from Yeosang’s lips. Hongjoong takes the opportunity to spread his legs once more, although this time he makes sure to press them wider than before, and Yeosang has never felt more exposed in his life. Hongjoong is still kissing a path up his bare leg when he reaches for the bottle of lube. The click of the cap sends a jolt through his nervous system, cock twitching weakly on the vee of his hip. 

“Hm, are you that excited, baby? You’re doing so well already. Wooyoung always complains about how slow I am when we do this.” Yeosang can do nothing but blink down at where Hongjoong is perched between his legs. Wide eyes meet his and maintain a steady sense of eye contact even as he pours some lube onto his fingers. “Am I going too slow for you, Yeosang?”

“A… a little bit,” Yeosang admits, shifting his elbows on the mattress. 

“But you’re doing so well for us, darling. Being so good and patient, hm? What more could you want?” Hongjoong trails a finger from the head of Yeosang’s erect cock down to the base. Even the slight touch has Yeosang whimpering in need, and he tries to rut his hips up into the older’s hand, but Hongjoong doesn’t let him. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll ruin you good and nice, okay?”

“Please,” Yeosang pants. Hongjoong traces down further with his lubed fingers, using his index finger to rub small circles around Yeosang’s hole. With his other hand, he takes hold of Yeosang’s cock, then without warning, he encircles the entirety of his member in the wet heat of his mouth. “Oh m-my god, hyung!” Yeosang throws his head back against the bed. His back arches painfully with the sensation, but Hongjoong doesn’t let up until his nose brushes Yeosang’s crotch. It is vastly impressive but Yeosang is far too engulfed in the feeling of Hongjoong’s mouth around his length to think too much about it. What he does know is that Hongjoong takes him all the way to the back of his throat without gagging in the slightest, and Yeosang wouldn’t call himself small by any means, so if that’s not the hottest thing he’s ever witnessed, he isn’t sure what could top it.

Yeosang squeezes his eyes shut as Hongjoong ravishes his cock, taking in the feeling of the man’s tongue tracing along the underside of his length. Hongjoong certainly sucks dick like it’s his last meal on earth and his only purpose in life. Though the number of blowjobs Yeosang has received are few and far between, he knows this is going to ruin all blowjobs in the future for him unless Wooyoung is the one to give them. Hongjoong keeps circling that index finger around his rim. It’s teasing and prodding, like he’s trying to get Yeosang to cave and beg for it, but Yeosang is too lost in the heat of Hongjoong’s mouth to even think to ask for it. Ironically, it’s Hongjoong who grows impatient as time passes on, and he at last slips one finger past Yeosang’s tight ring and buries the digit two knuckles deep in him.

Yeosang blindly reaches down to grab Hongjoong’s wrist. He desperately tries to push his finger deeper, to prod further and find that elusive spot that feels oh so good, but Hongjoong keeps him from doing so. The leader slips off his cock with a lewd pop, leaving a trail of spit to dangle between his lips and the head of Yeosang’s cock. The effort of having Yeosang so deep for such a long period of time shows on his face: his eyes are a bit puffy and red around the edges, tears glisten in his waterline, and the tip of his nose gleams just a little brighter now. Yeosang could get drunk off the sheer sight of him like this.

“Be patient, darling,” Hongjoong reminds him as he pushes Yeosang’s hand away from his own. “You’re so tight that I wanna spend some extra time prepping you, okay?”

And yes, Yeosang is touched by the gesture in the very least but he’s also quite annoyed because he wants Hongjoong deeper and deeper with each passing second. He only gets part of his wish when Hongjoong descends back on his leaking erection, scooping up the trail of precum and saliva with the flat of his tongue and diving back down on him. Somewhere in the haze of his thoughts, Yeosang thinks that having his dick sucked by Kim Hongjoong is a wholly spiritual experience. 

That point is proved further when Hongjoong pushes a second finger into his hole and gently settles it into his heat without moving for several seconds. Then, he twists his digits to the side and begins to fuck those two fingers in and out of Yeosang’s tight ring as slowly as possible. That has Yeosang’s moan devolving into choked mewls and whimpers, and his thighs tremble under the repetitive double stimulation that never stops even for a second.

Hongjoong has a talent at taking people apart it seems because he does it with Yeosang so easily that the younger is already seeing stars without having come a single time yet. Wooyoung is thoroughly enjoying the scene before him with rapt attention, and for once he actually remains rather quiet as he watches on, aside from the occasional moan and groan. The feeling of Wooyoung’s stare firmly planted on his body, from his face down to where Hongjoong’s face meets his crotch, leaves Yeosang feeling even more light-heated. He’s fairly confident that this with either send him spiraling into unknown territory or he will just straight up pass out after coming once. 

There is no time to worry about those minute details in the coming moments: Hongjoong works a third digit into his hole, and when he does, he pulls off Yeosang’s tortured cock with a lopsided grin. 

“Isn’t he so good and pretty for us, Woo baby?” 

“Y-Yes, hyung,” Wooyoung answers quickly. 

“Are you getting close, angel?” Despite Hongjoong’s stare being directed at Yeosang, the latter is vaguely aware that the question is meant for Wooyoung, but still, he nods a few times for good measure. That draws a laugh from Hongjoong’s chest. The noise resonates in Yeosang’s body, leaving him with a steady thrum of pleasure, and Hongjoong speeds up the pace of his fingers as he pumps them in and out of Yeosang’s hole. “You look so heavenly like this, Yeosang. Panting and mewling as I fuck your hole with just my fingers. You’re so desperate for something bigger, aren’t you?”

Yeosang is losing control over his own inhibitions and slipping into a place he rarely goes. 

“Y-Yes, yes, hyung, I’m — want more. Want more, please, give me more,” he babbles back, too lost to think about piecing full sentences together. Hongjoong is quick to pick up on the shift, especially in the way that Yeosang’s body turns to jello in his touch and becomes fully pliant under him. The leader snakes a hand up Yeosang’s side and finds one of Yeosang’s own hands on the bed. He laces their fingers together, clasping tight at the younger’s hand while offering a sweet and gentle smile. 

“Hyung has you, darling,” he murmurs. “I promise.” It’s the reassurance Yeosang needs to let go, and he lets himself rut down on Hongjoong’s fingers. They find a rhythm like that — with Yeosang’s half-hearted and shaky bounces and Hongjoong’s timely thrusts — and each jab to his prostate has Yeosang crying out for more. He wants to hold off, wants to make it last longer, come while Hongjoong is balls deep inside him, but Hongjoong seems determined to draw at least one orgasm out of him before they go any further. 

And that’s exactly what he does.

Less than three minutes later, Yeosang has his free hand wrapped around his shaft as Hongjoong fucks into his hole with three fingers and a sense of reckless abandon. It’s purely euphoric, and the quick jabs to his prostate are what sends him fully over the edge. Come spills over his hand, coating his knuckles and fingers in the sticky white substance, and Yeosang lets the steady jerks of his arm come to a rest. Hongjoong, however, just continues to pump his fingers in and out of Yeosang’s hole, not waiting for the man to recover before he is back to toying with his prostate. 

“Hyung, t-too much, ah — ah, hyung, I can’t!” It is a delicious bit of overstimulation, and one that leaves Yeosang exhausted and panting for air. Hongjoong stops before it begins to hurt thankfully, slipping his fingers out of the younger before mapping a path with his lips up to Yeosang’s neck.

“Are you with me, darling?” He hums into the crook of his neck. Small love bites enunciate the words, and Hongjoong drags his tongue over each little mark he paints on Yeosang’s skin. 

Yeosang honestly feels like he is floating on a different plane of existence. He doesn’t process any of what Hongjoong said, only the touches and cool sensation of air hitting the path of spit Hongjoong left on his chest. It’s concerning enough to make Hongjoong sit back and look Yeosang directly in the eye.

“Yeosang, baby, are you with me?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, yes, hyung. I’m — I’m here, yes,” Yeosang replies this time as Hongjoong pulls him out of the state of delirium.

“What’s our color, doll?” Rather than responding, Yeosang preens at the name Hongjoong calls him, a lopsided smile covering his lips.

“I like that, hyung. Can you — can you call me that again please?”

“I need your color first, Yeo. Is it too much? Do we need to stop?” Hongjoong cradles the younger’s face in his hands, caressing the soft skin of his cheeks and trying to make the younger look him in the eye. Even the smallest touch sends Yeosang spiraling, like he’s swimming through dark water and can’t figure out what’s going on around him.

“I don’t want to stop. I’m… I’m okay,” Yeosang insists through a nod. “I just need a few minutes to recover a bit. ‘m still green, I promise. I’m too — t-touch is too much right now.” Hongjoong nods and retracts his hands from the visual’s face, and Yeosang instantly inhales a deep breath of air like he’s been starving for it all this time. 

“Have you come yet, Woo baby?” Hongjoong shifts his focus over to the other man in the room, and Yeosang follows his stare over to land on where Wooyoung sits. Said man shakes his head quickly, fingers loosely wrapped around the base of his cock. “Can you last a little while longer?”

“Y-Yeah, of course, hyung.” 

That has Hongjoong smirking again, and the leader slips off the bed to stand up straight.

“Good because I’ve changed my mind,” he hums, stepping closer to where Wooyoung sits. He steps around the back of the chair. Yeosang makes brief eye contact with the man as he lays his hands down on Wooyoung’s shoulders, eyes glinting a bit under the fluorescent lights. “Yeosangie is going to ride your pretty little cock, and I…” Hongjoong curls his fingers around Wooyoung’s jaw and shifts the younger to look at him. He pushes two digits past Wooyoung’s lips, pressing down so hard on his tongue that Yeosang can hear the way Wooyoung gags around him. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth just the way you like. Understood?”

Wooyoung mumbles around Hongjoong’s fingers, taking them deeper into his mouth without complaint, and that seems to be answer enough with the way Wooyoung blinks up at his hyung through his lashes.

“Good boy,” Hongjoong praises before pushing his fingers further down Wooyoung’s throat. “Yeosang, darling, take your time. There’s no rush, okay? Woo could sit here with my hand in his mouth for hours and be satisfied.”

Yeosang spends the next several minutes just observing the scene before him. It’s oddly euphoric to simply stare at them in this state, Wooyoung still seated in that chair and Hongjoong standing behind him with an arm curled around the front of his body. Wooyoung seems to be working his tongue over Hongjoong’s fingers based on the dripping trail of saliva that pools at the corners of his lips every few minutes. And Hongjoong was correct: Wooyoung seems perfectly content like that, happily lavishing the older’s fingers as Hongjoong cards his other hand through Wooyoung’s dark hair.

By the time Yeosang finally pulls himself to his feet, his legs are somewhat wobbly and shaky, but he drags himself to where Wooyoung is seated with little issue. While his own cock has softened down to a semi-hard state, Wooyoung is still rock hard and twitching between his legs, hands clasped tight around the arms of the chair. Yeosang drops himself to Wooyoung’s lap without warning, and it startles the man so badly that he bites down hard on Hongjoong’s fingers. Hongjoong takes it without complaint, only letting out a soft hiss and yanking Wooyoung’s hair until the younger moans around his hand.

“Are you feeling alright, doll?” Hongjoong leans over Wooyoung’s head to get in Yeosang’s space. The visual greets him with a quick and daring kiss, then places both hands atop where Wooyoung’s sit on the armrests. 

“Perfect as can be.”

Hongjoong smiles into the kiss. He pulls off too soon for Yeosang’s liking, but Yeosang understands why he does so after a moment because the leader slips his fingers out of Wooyoung’s wet mouth and takes to stripping himself of the rest of his clothes like the rest of them. In the break of touching from Hongjoong, Yeosang and Wooyoung finally look at each other — Yeosang with teeth sunk deep into his lower lip, and Wooyoung with eyes glazed in lust.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” Wooyoung admits after a second. 

“Well, you don’t have to wait any longer,” Yeosang replies with a smile before taking Wooyoung’s face into his hands. Their lips meet in a shy kiss at first, one that is testing and exploring the waters around them before they let themselves get caught up in the thick air of arousal in the room. Wooyoung shifts his hands to Yeosang’s delicate hips. He presses his thumbs to the pale skin there with enough force to bruise, but the pressure is heady and delicious in Yeosang’s mind. 

Yeosang blindly fumbles around between his legs in search of Wooyoung’s cock, and once he finally has a hold of it, he pushes up on his knees to make space for Wooyoung to slip his cock between the cleft of Yeosang’s ass. They both release a shaky sigh into each other’s mouths, and Yeosang is ready to fully drop his hips on Wooyoung’s cock if not for Hongjoong stopping him at the last second.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, darling, you need more lube.” Hongjoong disappears behind his back, and Yeosang doesn’t bother to see what he’s doing until he feels something cool hit his backside. His whole body jolts forward against Wooyoung, hands latching onto the younger’s shoulders as the chilly lube slips lower. That feeling thankfully doesn’t last long because Wooyoung presses back into Yeosang’s hole with much more ease this time. Yeosang sinks down onto his heels once more, taking the younger’s cock deeper and deeper until Wooyoung’s thighs are flush with his ass.

He looks up from Wooyoung’s chest, intent on kissing the man under him, but Hongjoong has occupied his mouth in the meantime. And if Yeosang thought seeing Wooyoung with fingers between his lips was a sight to behold, the image of him with a cock filling his mouth is even better. So good in fact that Yeosang goes a little breathless at the sight. Hongjoong has a hand wrapped around the back of Wooyoung’s head, tilting the younger towards his crotch where Wooyoung slurps messily around his member with no shame. Hongjoong coos soft praises down at the man all the while, and it spurs Yeosang to start moving his hips. He desperately wants to hear that praise as well, he wants them to tell him that he’s doing a good job and being so good for them. He is so needy for it that he works his thighs as hard as he can, bringing a pleasant burn to the muscles. 

Yeosang’s erratic movements have Wooyoung releasing a litany of moans around Hongjoong’s cock, hands fumbling to grasp at his hips so he can buck up into Yeosang’s tight heat with little sense of rhythm. There’s no real point in trying to find a rhythm with Wooyoung, Yeosang learns that quickly because every time he tries to build a steady pace, Wooyoung jerks up with a thrust that throws Yeosang off-balance. So, instead, Yeosang just focuses on his small bounces and grinding his hips down when there’s a break in Wooyoung’s thrusts. Wooyoung loses his control on Hongjoong’s cock soon as well, and his timed bobs turn into letting his jaw go slack so that Hongjoong can simply thrust into his mouth instead. The sounds in the room are purely erotic, too loud between the wet slaps of skin, Yeosang’s mewls, and Wooyoung’s gagged moans around Hongjoong’s member, but Hongjoong manages to be relatively quiet himself with only a few sporadic moans here and there. 

“Look at you, doll.”

Yeosang cracks an eye open, panting through a whimper when he sees the way Hongjoong is currently staring at him. 

“You’re doing so well for us. Look at him, Woo, look how good he is on top of you like this.” Hongjoong stretches his free hand out towards Yeosang. He reaches for the younger’s face, but Yeosang twists his neck at the last second and catches Hongjoong’s thumb between his teeth instead. He maintains a piercing stare with the leader as he sucks the digit into his mouth, effectively muting his noises. Hongjoong’s hips lose their rhythm, and he freezes with cock halfway down Wooyoung’s throat to just stare at Yeosang in absolute wonder for so long that Yeosang thinks he truly broke the man. Wooyoung slips off Hongjoong’s cock.

“Hyung,” he whines, tone so hoarse that Yeosang would be surprised if he could talk at all tomorrow. 

“S-Shit,” Hongjoong exhales, and it’s the first time that Yeosang has seen the man’s composure break in the slightest since this started. That causes his chest to swell with pride, heady arousal filling his veins, and he squeezes hard around Wooyoung’s cock. It’s all the younger needs to come, apparently, because Wooyoung releases a startled yelp that is so loud that Hongjoong has to rush to muffle him with his cock before someone comes rushing to the door. Yeosang isn’t expecting to come as soon as he does, but he is quick to follow Wooyoung in coming, hot spurts of come painting Wooyoung’s stomach and Yeosang’s hands where they rest atop Wooyoung’s sternum. He can’t stop moving, nor does Wooyoung let him with the grip he maintains on Yeosang’s hips, thus the two of them ride out their orgasms together like that until their bodies give out to the pleasure. 

Yeosang collapses forward, smearing the cum between their bodies further as he drops his head to Wooyoung’s right shoulder. Hongjoong is still working hard to come himself, and Wooyoung returns to his senses enough to assist him. Yeosang can only watch on from where he’s perched. Every muscle in his body aches and burns, but the lingering haze of his orgasms leaves him feeling warm and fuzzy inside.

“S-Shit, Woo, gonna come on you like this,” Hongjoong warns, fingers tightening around the man’s hair. Wooyoung pulls off his cock and replaces his mouth with a hand. He splays his tongue out before the head of Hongjoong’s dick, somehow managing to giggle as he strokes his hyung to completion. Hongjoong releases onto Wooyoung’s tongue and face, and Wooyoung takes every last drop until he’s milked Hongjoong dry. 

When he finally lets go of the man’s cock, Wooyoung turns back to Yeosang, twisting a hand through his hair and pulling his face up until they’re eye level, then he plants his lips atop Yeosang’s. The come is still there, sticking to his face and tongue, but Yeosang sinks into the kiss without complaint. Wooyoung thrusts his tongue into the visual’s mouth. Hongjoong’s come is salty and warm, so bitter that Yeosang almost chokes on it, but Wooyoung fares much better, although that’s probably because he has a lot more practice swallowing come than Yeosang does. Yeosang takes it as best he can, swallowing every drop that Wooyoung pushes between his lips, and he even goes so far as to clean the come off Wooyoung’s face between soft kisses. 

“Hyung,” Yeosang exhales, and he looks up to where Hongjoong stands beside them. Hongjoong seems to guess exactly what he wants with little trouble, bending at the waist to give him a sloppy kiss, and Yeosang hums into the touch. 

“What about me?” Wooyoung whines the moment they detach, and Hongjoong has enough mercy to offer a kiss to him as well.

“I’ll give you more in the shower,” he promises after pecking the younger’s forehead. “I’ll go get the water running. You two come join when you’re ready, yeah?”

Hongjoong leaves the two of them there, still seated in that damn chair with Wooyoung’s softened cock deep in Yeosang’s ass. They don’t move right away, and frankly, Yeosang is more than okay with that because his body feels weightless and unreal at the moment. 

“Want me to carry you to the bathroom?” Wooyoung offers through a smile. Yeosang only hums in response and tucks his head further into Wooyoung’s neck.

“I really… Wooyoung, I really like you. More than just sexually,” he admits, watching a bead of sweat trickle down the side of Wooyoung’s face. “You and Hongjoong both.”

“I like you both too, so I don’t see why that would be an issue.”

“Really?” Yeosang murmurs. And maybe it’s just the afterglow of the sex or the pent-up emotions rolling through Yeosang’s chest, but the corners of his eyes prick with unshed tears and his heart clenches in his chest.

“I thought it was obvious this whole time, yeah. And I know… I know Hongjoong feels the same even if he’s not always good at voicing his feelings all the time.” Yeosang squeezes his arms around Wooyoung’s midsection at that. A soft kiss lands on his forehead, then Wooyoung shifts their weight and tucks his hands under Yeosang’s thighs.

“Are you two dolts coming or not? I’m wasting hot water over here, hurry it the fuck up!”

“He loves us!” Wooyoung laughs into the shell of Yeosang’s ear, carrying him off to join Hongjoong in the bathroom before the leader complains again.

“Yeah, I think he does,” Yeosang murmurs more to himself than to anyone else.

﹎﹎﹎

[fluffy-lee-boa]

Teaching Me How To Move On

(A SamBucky tickle fic :3)

@tickleebug requested some Sam and Bucky, so I went a little wild with it and made a short story to show how Bucky is adapting to his new life, and his new partner. Spoilers for Endgame/TFATWS btw!

“Buhucky! Cut it out!” Steve snorted, swatting at the younger’s arm as he lightly dug into his sides.

Before he’d taken the serum, it had been a well-known fact that Steve Rogers was probably one of the most ticklish guys in Brooklyn. Sure, he hated to admit it in public, and Bucky respected that, but when he and Bucky were hanging out at home? All bets were off.

So James Buchanan Barnes took every opportunity like this to tease the other about his sensitivity, sitting beside him and carefully scratching at all the spots he knew would make the other squeal. He never took it overboard, considering Steve’s fragile state, but he did tire the other out enough that he would be sure the smaller wouldn’t get revenge.

“Come on Stevie, there’s no way you’re gonna make the army if you can’t handle a little tickling,” he smirked at the other.

Steve gave an snort, slapping a hand to his face before shaking his head rapidly, “This is just tohorture!!”

“Mhm. And?” Bucky snickered as he trailed his hands up to Steve’s stomach, relishing in the deeper laughter that it gave him.

This certain brand of “torture” continued for a few minutes, interspersed with cruel teases and barely-masked flirting that the ever-oblivious Rogers seemed to let fly over his head. Though it was easy to tell Steve wasn’t trying very hard to escape the other’s grasp, especially considering how lightly Buck was holding him down in fear of injury. He could stop any time he wanted, really.

Bucky finally let up once the wheezing started, almost immediately leaving the room only to reappear with a cup of water. He couldn’t help the smug grin on his face as the other struggled to hide his deep blush. The moment was perfect.

Too perfect.

He would wait another day to tell him about his draft card. He didn’t want to ruin what they had just yet.

~

Years.

Years had gone by since that day- decades, even. He had gone for most of that time without Steve, without those affectionate touches and softness, and without love. He’d gone for even longer now that Steve was....

No, he didn’t like to think about the past few months. About how the very man he’d grown up with, who’d told him he’d be with him to the end of the line, got off early. -He couldn’t be angry with him, though. It was his life, after all. His choice. Steve would probably be better off with Peggy, anyways.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell, and that he was absolutely starved for affection with no one in the world to fix it for him.

Well... almost no one.

Admittedly, he’d grown closer to Sam in the time since the new Cap was gifted the shield. Despite his reservations, and the rocky start to their partnership, they’d come to an understanding. Especially after all they’d been through in their mission to stop Karli, and then Walker thereafter.

And there was the boat, of course. Bucky hadn’t even known Sam had a boat before this week- never even been near one besides during war times. Yet he found himself spending hours and even days of his time on helping him fix it. Then the days after that teaching the new Captain to toss the shield.

Was this what having a friend was like?

He couldn’t tell. I mean, after Steve, nothing was going to feel just right. ...Or so he thought.

See, even if Bucky had tried to deny it, Sam felt safe. He felt like Steve did. They shared that same big heart Bucky had always admired, and honestly, the shield couldn’t have found a better wielder. But on the other hand, Sam was also more honest, and more direct. That was something he needed after all those years of manipulation and self-pity. Not exactly tough love, but the truth. A kinder, softer truth.

“Hey! Buck!” Sam had called from the other side of the open field, between a few lone trees that were wrapped in foam.

Bucky looked up, torn from his deep thoughts about friendship and Captains and shields. He didn’t give away any of it through his glance, much better at hiding behind an emotionless mask these days.

“Are you gonna throw it back or what? -The shield, I mean.” the figure laughed.

James rolled his eyes and walked over, trying to play it off, “Your stance is off. You’re gonna get someone killed if you don’t have enough balance.”

“Balance my ass,” Sam scoffed jokingly as he took the shield back from the other, looking him over suspiciously, “...You’re just deflecting again. You’ve been spacing out like crazy today... did something happen?”

Ah, there was that signature therapist-like concern that Wilson managed to worm into every conversation. It made Bucky’s heart beat faster and his stomach flip and he hated it. No one had been this worried about him since he came back from the icy abyss of HYDRA’s control. No one else had checked up on him so consistently for no other gain than his continued wellbeing.

“I’m fine.” He shot back despite himself, half of a glare on his face as he turned away to go back to his spot.

Sam rolled his eyes at the other’s dramatics, at this point being readily used to the cold demeanor Bucky used to push aside his own feelings. But he wasn’t ready to let it slide this time around. So he stepped towards him after setting aside the vibranium shield, reaching out to stop him from walking away again.

Quite a few things happened after that, one after the other.

For one, Sam had underestimated how quickly Bucky could power-walk away from him, and ended up grazing his side with a small grabbing motion rather than taking him by the wrist.

From there, Bucky had faltered in his pace with a quick giggle, before looking back at the other with a somewhat horrified expression. Oh no.

It was painfully obvious to Sam now, by Buck’s initial reaction and the way he seemed just about ready to jump out of his skin.

“There is no way in hell....”

“Sam, you don’t want to do this-”

“You’re ticklish?!”

Bucky cringed, almost immediately blushing just as Steve had whenever he’d done the same to him back in Brooklyn. Karma may have been delayed for almost a century, but it sure did come back to bite him. Figures as much, right?

Bucky had started walking backwards away from the now-very-menacing falcon, though with the woods around them, his ankle caught on a rock and sent him flying back onto his butt. Figures even more.

Before he could up and scramble away, probably going to rush to Sarah and beg for protection, Sam had pounced. The super soldier found himself being straddled, which didn’t help his confusing feelings from before at all. He hands ended up under Sam’s knees, and even if he knew he could probably escape, he was concerned he’d end up hurting the other if he lost control of his own strength.

“Sam! Get off!” He said in a shockingly squeaky shout, obviously flustered.

“Nu-uh. I need to see this for myself.” Sam snickered, making the other look away as his blush deepened.

“You su-AHAHUCK-“

Before Bucky could articulate what would have totally been a coherent and witty response, Sam had taken the initiative and dug straight into the dip of his sides. There was an explosion of sunny and bubbly laughter that didn’t suit the awkward Soldier at all, making Sam beam down at the other.

Bucky internally cursed as he looked up and caught glimpse of the smile. He was too perfect- it was unfair!

Sam chuckled as he lightened up, tracing circles around his hips and making Bucky jerk back and forth with a few left over giggles, “Wowwww... It’s worse than I thought.”

“Shut the hell uhuhup...” Bucky muttered in embarrassment, making Wilson roll his eyes.

Sam knew he could definitely find a worse spot, and ignoring Bucky’s continued insults and thinly-veiled threats, he scanned the other’s upper body as thought to himself.

His metal arm probably couldn’t feel anything, right? But what about the spot just where the two met...?

Bucky noticed where his partner’s gaze had fallen, suddenly looking alarmed as he turned to begging, “Hey, wait, hold on, that’s a bad idea, Wilson. -Agh- Please? Is that what you want? Fine! I’m saying please-“

Sam just shook his head with that stupid, handsome smirk on his face, “Saying please isn’t gonna save you this time around. Tell me what’s wrong.... and I won’t absolutely wreck you. And trust me, I have an older sister. I know exactly how to do it.”

Bucky went quite besides his quick breathes and squirmy giggles, looking off to the side as he tried to consider his options despite the continued teasing of his sides and hips. But no- he couldn’t say what was really on his mind. Stubborn is as stubborn does.

“Do your worst.”

There was only a moment of reprieve as Wilson took in the other’s bratty reply, before he wiggled his fingers into that horrible dip between Buck’s metal arm and his ribs, right in the hollow. His other hand went to the rest of his rib cage just as quickly, alternating between both sides and dipping in between the spaces for added torture.

Bucky was pretty much lost in a handful of seconds.

He cackled, kicking his legs and pulling at his arms with only a shred of resistance from the last part of him that was conscious, which was still bent on making sure he didn’t hurt Sam.

But, that part of him could only hold out for so long, and when Sam found an extra sensitive spot between his ribs, Bucky ended up arching so suddenly that Sam was sent a good five feet away by his super strength.

Whoops.

There was a long pause as the air around them stilled once more, Sam laying feet away and laughing hysterically at his friend’s reaction while Bucky himself calmed himself down to a frenzy of frantic giggling.

After he was able to regain control of himself, he sat up to look over at Sam, his arms wrapped around his own torso protectively so the falcon could no longer access his weak spot. His voice was hoarse as he asked sheepishly, “...Are you ok?”

Sam’s own laughter died down, and he waved his hand dismissively, “Fine, fine. I shoulda expected it. You’re a hyper-ticklish super soldier. I’m just lucky you didn’t break my arm.“

Bucky didn’t find much humor in that joke, but he got up and made his way over to the other anyway. He held out his hand to help him stand beside him, and Wilson smiled softly at the other’s still reddened face, “Maybe we should do that more often. You’re cute when you’re blushing like that.”

And he walked away.

Bucky, for better or worse, didn’t have the same luxury that his old partner did of obliviousness to such direct declarations of affection, so he simply stood in shock as he was left in the small field of grass.

...Maybe, just maybe, his new life wasn’t as empty and lonely as he’d previously thought. Maybe Sam... could be what he really needed, as a partner, and as a friend.

Or.... maybe something more.

Lots of maybes today. But then again, when is anything ever certain?

[saffronwritings]

C L U M S Y | I I D A

Oh, we were destined for danger; familiar strangers. We were bound to make a mess of things, mixin' fireworks and gasoline.

I I D A | P a r t  O n e

[Part Two] [Part Three]

C L U M Y  M A S T E R L I S T

Word Count: 2.4k

Following the rules is all he knew how to do, until he met you.

               It was rare for Iida to really stray away from his daily routines. He had developed a strict schedule for himself in during his time at UA. He took his studies very seriously and took to his training even harder, especially after the incident with the villain Stain. If he was going to prove to his family that he was going to be the best, then he had no other choice. Breaking multiple pairs of glasses, going through crazy battles with his fellow classmates, and constantly being on alert during his patrols during his work studies. There wasn’t much that Iida wasn’t prepared for, well, that is, until he met you. 

               You were definitely the complete opposite of Tenya Iida. You were constantly late to most of your classes, you scraped by with your grades, and you seemed very unorderly when it came to having you act together. There was no denying your quirk was very admirable to get yourself a slot in the 1-A class, but your consistent lack of caring for the rules bothered Iida. He had a great deal of patience when it came to the other students in his class. He let Bakugou’s negative attitude and outbursts slide, he gave up on lecturing Denki about falling asleep in class, and even stopped pestering Sero from leaning back in his chair. Well really, he stopped pestering Sero about that because he convinced Iida he was able to balance it safely with his tape. Which he totally didn’t and hopes Iida doesn’t find out.

               Which lead to Iida to question why he was so confused as to why your empty desk this morning bothered him so much. “Good morning Iida!” Ochako greeted him to pull him from his annoyed thoughts. “Good morning to you as well, Uraraka-chan.” He smiled at her but found himself looking back at your empty desk again. “You two didn’t happen to see Y/L/N on your way over from Heights Alliance, did you?” Iida asked finally when Izuku joined the two of them. Izuku quickly turned his attention to your desk and shook his head. “I didn’t see her when the rest of the girls were gathering to walk over this morning. I think Mina-chan went to check on her, but she didn’t answer her door.” Ochako said with a frown.

               Iida looked at his watch to see they still had fifteen minutes before class started. He would be damned if he let you skip another day of class, yet again. You were making the rest of class 1-A look bad by not being together for one another. Iida stood abruptly and announced to Ochako and Izuku that he was going to go grab you from your dorm. “Are you going to have enough time before Aizawa-sensei gets here?” Ochako asked. A smirk crossed Iida’s face and she knew almost instantly he was going to use his quirk to quickly get to you. Before she and Izuku could ask anymore questions he was off. He hated using his quirk outside of training because he knew his teachers didn’t approve of it. However, if by chance he were to be caught he could easily explain himself to Aizawa.

               He reached Heights Alliance in no time. Noticing that Kaminari and Sero were just now leaving the dormitory. “Iida? I thought you’d be in class by now.” Sero mentioned, raising his eyebrow to his class rep. “I’m getting Y/L/N.” He announced before storming into the building. “Also, you two should hurry up before you are late for homeroom!” He shouted behind him. Sero and Kaminari both laughed and left Iida to his business, knowing not to try and interfere. Iida was a stubborn minded individual who followed through with his plans to completion. While he was heading up the staircase towards your dorm, he checked his watch to make sure he was still good on time, which he was.

               He reached your dorm room without a minute to spare and knocked on it three times solidly. “Y/L/N. This is your class rep Tenya Iida. You are going to be yet again late to homeroom class if you don’t hurry.” He announced in a loud stern voice. However, to his surprise he was on the receiving end of radio silence. He knocked again a little louder and waited to hear a response. A huff of frustration left his lips, and he pressed his ear to your door. There was no sound coming from the other side of the door. “I am going to come in, Y/L/N.”  He warned you in hopes to stir some kind of reaction out of you. When you still failed to reply to him, he hesitantly opened the door. He didn’t open it all the way at first to obviously give you respect in case you were changing. Maybe you had headphones on, and therefore you weren’t answering him.

               When he noticed the lights were off in your room, he pushed the door all the way open. From what he could see, he saw your small trash can next to your bed and littered next to it was what he assumed were used tissues. “Y/L/N?” He whispered as he approached you closer. You were laying under a bunch of covers and looked like you were still heavily asleep. So, you weren’t technically skipping class on purpose. He had felt bad for assuming with your attendance record that you were just skipping. He cleaned up the used tissues for you and organized your nightstand so that you could easily access the water bottle you had plus the medicine you were taking.

               Now that he was thinking about it, over the weekend you had not been very active in the dorm’s activities. He noticed your absence more than he noticed anyone else’s’. He walked back over to you and put a hand on your forehead and felt how bad you were burning up. This little action caused you to stir a bit and grab his arm and pull him into bed with you. This took the boy by surprise as you quickly snuggled yourself into his presence. “Y/L/N! THIS IS HIGHLY INNAPROPRIATE!” He whispered yelled while having his face burn alongside yours.

               He didn’t want to wake you up from getting your rest, but he knew he had to get back to class. Panic set in his mind as he tried to find a way to get out of the bed without really disturbing you. However, it seemed like you had a death grip around his neck, and you were not going to let go without a fight.  How on earth did I get myself here… He thought to himself. He let out a sigh and accepted defeat. He was going to have a hard time explaining himself to Aizawa for not showing up to class today. Hopefully Ochako and Izuku would explain to him that he was checking up on you and if you had told Aizawa that you were sick that he would think Iida was taking you to Recovery Girl. Which was a plan of his once you had woken up from your medicine induced slumber.

               Iida would be lying to himself if he didn’t take a good look at you while you were sleeping. The way you were snoring lightly made his heart melt. Why did you have to continuously break the rules? He was so smitten for you whether he wanted to admit it or not. He lightly brushed some of the hair out of your face and you had further nuzzled yourself into the side of his neck. The blush he had deepened, and he swore it spread not only to his face but down his neck and to his ears. “You have no clue the effect you have on me…” Iida whispered before lazily running his hands through your hair. Before he could even recognize it, he was falling asleep next to you.

               You had stirred a bit after what you felt was hours after taking your cold medicine that Recovery Girl gave you the night before. You were sweating and you assumed because you had broken your fever, however, when you went to move your covers off your person you felt yourself anchored to the bed. Confused, you opened your eyes, and you were face to face with a sleeping Tenya Iida. A blush quickly spread across your face and you let out a tiny yelp. This caused the blue haired boy to stir a bit. You pretended to go back to sleep as if not to get caught staring at your class representative. How on earth did this happen??

               The last thing you remembered was taking your medicine before passing back out while everyone else was getting ready for class. Mina had knocked on your door to check in on you, but you were too tired to answer. You had already told Aizawa the night before that you were going to rest up the next day, so you weren’t worried about class. So why was Iida here? You felt him run his hand through your hair lazily and you could feel your face burn even hotter. There was no denying that you had a thing for the strict class rep, but you knew with your lackadaisical attitude that he was not even in the slightest bit interested in you, or so you thought. You weren’t sure what to do, besides attempt to stir him enough so he would jolt out of your bed. He was in your bed. Tenya Iida, the class rep, was in your bed.

               You kept repeating yourself over and over in your head and before you could pass out from thinking too hard, he had stirred and stretched himself out. You took this opportunity to release the grip you had on him. You sat up slowly and he quickly retreated out of your bed. It seemed like he was going to make a dash for your door and you quickly reached out and grabbed his hand. He stiffened by your touch and turned back to you. “Y/L/N. ITS NOT WHAT YOU THINK. I WOULD NEVER TAKE ADVANTAGE OF YOU WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING. I CAME TO CHECK ON YOU SINCE I NOTICED YOUR ABSENCE IN CLASS.” He immediately started to spit out, chopping the air with his free hand quickly.

               Your expression softened at his outburst and a soft giggle left your lips. “You must have made the mistake of stirring me in my medicine induced coma. I often latch onto things close to me when I’m sick. I’m sorry for dragging you into my bed.” You shyly spoke, voice raspy from both sleep and from your cold. The two of you sat in awkward silence, not knowing what to say to one another. That is until Iida cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up on his face. He sat back down on your bed and looked at you with a soft expression. “Are you at least feeling better?” Iida questioned, not breaking eye contact with you. You also noticed he hadn’t let go of your hand.

               You nodded, breaking the eye contact to look at both of your hands. You knew this wouldn’t last forever, as much as you wanted it to.  “I’m glad you’re feeling a bit better then, Y/L/N.” He said, directly his attention back towards your bedroom door. “I should go back to school. However, I can come check on you when I get back?” He said, standing but not releasing your hand. “I’d like that.” You whispered, a flush of color coming back to your cheeks. Iida had been checking his watch to notice that he had only been gone from class for an hour. He had made a story up in his head to tell Aizawa about his disappearance before smiling at you. “Rest up, Y/N.” He said, leaning over to place a soft kiss to your temple. He squeezed your hand before exiting your room, leaving you a smiling mess.                . . .

               When Iida arrived back at the UA Campus, he got chewed out by Aizawa for not being in homeroom class. Even when Iida tried to explain the story to him, Aizawa was not having it. “You are the class rep, don’t make me regret giving you that title if you are going to use it to your advantage.” He sneered before dismissing him from the classroom. He had only gotten reprimanded once before from Aizawa and that was from the incident with Stain. His heart was pounding from the anxiety he was experiencing. He worked too hard to get to where he was now for something so small set him back. He brushed all thoughts of what happened this morning to the side and went on to his next class.

               Izuku and Ochako had asked what had happened, but Iida assured that it was nothing serious. That he had lectured you about being late to class constantly and that he helped get you medicine. While it was a lie, he didn’t want to inform his fellow classmates about his inappropriate behavior. If they had learned that he had technically ditched class for something so inappropriate, then it would send the wrong message. While his exterior showed seriousness, he felt himself thinking nonstop about this morning’s actions. He couldn’t let someone like you, who was known for breaking the rules, get him in trouble.

               There was a reason that Iida strayed away mostly from the Bakusquad. Kaminari and Sero typically got themselves into a lot of trouble. They were known mainly as the class clowns. While Izuku got himself into trouble as well, it wasn’t on the same level. None of his friends he surrounded himself with were troublemaker’s. They never skipped class to go lay on the roof or fell asleep in the middle of Present Mic’s lectures.

               It was almost as if Iida was trying to make it as if this morning didn’t happen. He focused on the lessons for the day and when classes were let out, he immediately went to his dorm room to study. He felt bad for not following through on checking in on you, but he wasn’t about to get caught up in something that would hurt his chance on proving to his family he could be better than Tensei. He would never hear the end of it from his parents if they heard he was slacking on his studies. So, he pushed the thought of you, and his potential attraction to you, to the side. He wouldn’t get caught up in you. Or so he thought…

[pointnumbersixteen]

A Head Cannon Biography and Character Analysis and of the Captain, Part 6: the Havers Question That I Still Don’t Answer Very Well, But I Tried My Best and That’s What Counts

That gets us finally to the analysis of the relationship between the Captain and Havers, as shown in Reddy Weddy.

From the first scene in the episode we get a lot:  Cap is obviously in love with Havers, that’s half the point of the episode. Cap is also so incredibly unsubtle with his attractions that Havers can’t have missed it. There’s probably no one in the Captain’s command who missed it, honestly. But what Havers might be thinking or feeling about this is almost more interesting than what the Captain, who is more or less an emotional open book, is thinking, because it’s impossible to tell for sure what Havers’ intentions are.

You can tell Havers is nervous to tell the Captain that he’s leaving. He probably doesn’t think Cap’s going to take it well, and considering how well Cap’s been shown taking things not going his way (not well at all, that is), he’s probably right to be a little nervous about it.

Notably, military courtesy dictates that Havers should have informed his commander that he wanted to put in for a transfer BEFORE doing so. The fact that he doesn’t do so, and in fact waits so long after the fact- not telling the Captain about it until he can piggy back it onto the distraction of the Fall of France, when Cap’s in a relatively upbeat mood due to the possibility of getting to join the fight- that the transfer request is nearly approved, says that he knew or at least suspected that Cap would object and perhaps try to stop him and didn’t want to give him the opportunity to do so.

I think the whole “get in the fight” thing he gives as an excuse for requesting the transfer is a lie. He looks like he feels guilty saying it, and there’s nothing about the way he presents himself that says he’s the sort that’s longing to go out and kill some Germans. I read him as having a sort of gentle, sweet, good humored and conciliatory personality. Not a single word or action he gives in the episode says he’s the kind of guy who joined out of some sort of thirst for adventure or blood lust or whatever. I think he’s saying the lie that he most thinks the Captain would believe, as the Captain clearly desperately wants to be in the fight himself. He also looks like he feels bad when he leaves at the end of the scene, probably because the Captain looks so obviously sad.

The big question is what exactly is going on underneath their relationship dynamic? The Captain’s feelings for Havers are impossible to miss, but does Havers feel them back? I don’t have a conclusive answer to that question, but two possibilities strike me.

 Both of those possibilities have one thing in common, though: whether Havers had feelings for the Captain or not, he did not want the Captain to admit his own feelings to him. I think in the second scene, in Cap’s office, it was the Captain’s intention to admit his feelings to Havers. And after years of repression and knowing the potential consequences for his actions, the fact that he was at least giving it serious consideration says a lot about just how much the Captain liked Havers.

But... when Havers comes in, he tells the Captain he’s leaving that night (and given how quick that was, it occurs to me that it’s possible Havers didn’t tell the Captain about his transfer request until he’d received the answer on it, possibly at the same time the Fall of France message came, but only told the Captain he’d put in the request in the first scene, and waited until that afternoon to say it was approved, to try to give him a bit of time to get used to the idea and lessen the blow a little- or alternatively, to let him think he still had time to stop Havers when he didn’t). And then when the Captain tries to make the conversation the least bit personal, with the ‘I’ll miss you, Havers,’ Havers’ smile wanes and Cap walks it back, correcting it to a ‘we’ll miss you’ with a safe het-masc sports reference for added camouflage. He tries again to broach the topic as Havers is going out the door, ‘I say, Havers,’ but Havers, who usually has nothing but gentle smiles for the Captain, looks entirely unreceptive, and Cap blinks, gives himself the tinniest little sad headshake, and then walks that back, too, saying that it’s a shame they won’t be able to finish the operation together. Only then, once it’s clear that the Captain isn’t going to say anything that would have been deemed inappropriate for the time does he get that smile. (And Havers did have a really nice smile.) (And also, Ben Willbond and Peter Sandys-Clarke do an excellent job in these two scenes saying things with their little facial expressions that their characters for various reasons aren’t able to.)

It’s also notable Havers starts with ‘I’m afraid I’m leaving you, sir,’ and I don’t think it was an accidentally awkward bit of speech, I think he meant it and that he meant it as a hint to the Captain that he couldn’t continue on like that, with the open infatuation and dependence on him.

 But: were the Captain’s feelings returned by Havers or not?

Option 1: I think unlike most of Cap’s command, Havers actually did like and respect him. Havers seems like a kind man, the sort that would view Cap’s oddities as harmless eccentricities rather than causes for derision, and he was patient and gentle with Cap’s probably much-battered ego, and maybe Cap misinterpreted that rarity as his feelings possibly being returned.

If he didn’t return Cap’s feelings… in this case, I think Havers would actually be leaving to protect the Captain, with the knowledge that the longer he stayed, the more likely it would be that Cap would get to the point where he was too unsubtle to ignore, and liable to be reported by one of their subordinates that clearly weren’t thrilled by the Captain’s command in order to get rid of him, in which case there would be an investigation, and if he let it go long enough that the Captain admitted his feelings to Havers and Havers was asked about it during the investigation, he’d be stuck between the rock and the hard place. Denying it would be lying to a superior officer and given the Captain’s lack of subtlety, place suspicion on Havers possibly returning the Captain’s interests, and telling the truth would end up with the Captain chucked out of the army in disgrace and possibly placed in jail. Leaving the Captain was ultimately for the Captain’s own good.

I think this last part can be backed up with the fact that, after all, if Havers didn’t like or want to protect Cap, he could have let that scenario play out, stick around until it became so obvious that someone else reported the Captain or he’d report the Captain himself, and if it got to the feelings confession state, he could have happily told command that the Captain had propositioned him and then been rid of him, and probably get a much more competent CO in exchange, maybe even a promotion to that position himself.  

 Option 2: for those in favor of thwarted gay romance, rather than unrequited gay crushes, it’s also entirely possible that Havers was gay and did like the Captain back, but considered the battle front a safer option than actually letting Cap confess his feelings and having a relationship with him. Again, the penalty for that if they were caught- and they likely would have been caught, as Cap is the least subtle person in existence about his crushes- would be being chucked out of the military, followed by two years hard labor and/or chemical castration. This in turn would quite probably lead to social death and economic ruin, as ‘spent two years in prison turning big rocks into little rocks as punishment for homosexual acts’ isn’t the sort of thing to put on your CV and expect to be hired in a difficult post-war economy. At least not in the 1940s.

And he couldn’t just let Cap confess his feelings and then tell him he liked him back but that there couldn’t be a relationship between them, because one, that would probably crush Cap, and two, I can’t see Cap letting it go at that. He’s never been shown to easily give up on what he wants- carrying on with Operation-Get-Rid-of-Allison long after the others gave up interest in it, for instance- and if he let his feelings about Havers out of the box, I think he’d have trouble putting them back in- and it’s likely his attempts to convince Havers they could make it work would just make everything more obvious and worse.  

 The second option actually makes me sadder, because it would have put the potential for happiness almost but not quite within Cap’s reach.

 Either way, whether he returned them or not, I think Havers ultimately left in order to protect the Captain (and at least to a certain extent himself) from the societal consequences of his own feelings.

 As for the mysterious ‘William’ envelope: were they actually the plans or were they a love letter? I’ve read some debate whether William was Havers’ first name or William really was the name of their project, but why not both? (It’s even entirely possible that Cap named the project after Havers in yet another incredibly unsubtle gesture of his affection, as a few people have mentioned.) I think that the envelope really was the plans, though. It was a pretty full envelope. I think if Cap had worked up the nerve to write a love letter, it would have been more likely to be a love note, after decades of repressing his feelings, and from the bulk of that envelope, that would have to have been more of a love novella.

I think it was the plans, but Cap was looking at it so hard and pondering it so hard, because Havers’ first name on an envelope gave him the idea that even if Havers was leaving, he didn’t necessarily have to lose him, if he confessed his feelings and Havers responded positively, they could at least maintain a correspondence and then when the war was done there would be other options for them having a real relationship. My guess- just head cannon at the moment- is that was his intention. But again, when he tried to go for it with the ‘I’ll miss you’ and it wasn’t well received, he got cold feet.

When Cap tosses the envelope in with the bomb and buries it looking somewhat regretful, the regret is at not having confessed his feelings, and not being able to have that correspondence accordingly.

 I personally head cannon Havers dies in North Africa and Cap strongly regrets not trying to force him to stay or ever telling him how he feels because of, but that’s mostly just my imagination being cruel. He could have lived through it and just never contacted the Captain again. I like the death bit for two reasons, though. Havers being alive at the end of the war might have given the Captain a little hope for the future, for one (and if you haven’t guessed yet, guys, this isn’t going to end well). A big reason though is because the actor who plays Havers, Peter Sandys-Clarke, is the grandson of Lieutenant Willward Sandys-Clarke, who died fighting on the North African front in WWII. LT Sandys-Clarke was awarded the Victoria Cross for his action, which is the highest decoration for military valor you can be awarded in the UK. I’m just going to quote his citation wholesale, as it’s so impressive:

“During an attack on Guiriat el Atach, in Tunisia, on 23rd April, 1943, Lieutenant Sandys-Clarke's company gained their objective, but were counter-attacked and almost wiped out, he alone surviving of the officers. Although wounded, he gathered together a composite platoon and attacked the position again. The platoon was held up by heavy fire from a machine-gun post, which Lieutenant Sandys-Clarke tackled single-handed and knocked out. After personally dealing in the same way with two more machine-guns posts, he led his platoon to the objective. While they were consolidating there, they came under fire from two sniper posts; without hesitation he again advanced single-handed, and was killed within a few feet of the enemy. His quick grasp of the situation and his brilliant leadership undoubtedly restored the situation, while his outstanding bravery and tenacious devotion to duty were beyond praise.”

I think of it as a bit of homage to the actor’s grandfather, having Havers dying gallantly. It couldn’t have happened in quite the same way, of course, because LT Sandys-Clarke was infantry and Havers was artillery, but I like to think he did something heroic before his exit.

 As a final note from Reddy Weddy: on the subject of burying the bomb, it really is a shame Havers didn’t stick around to help Cap dispose of it, because Havers seemed to have better sense than the Captain and probably would have done something saner than just burying it in the backyard, where anyone could have saw him doing it from a window and dug it up later, or accidentally set it off doing something else later, not knowing it was there. Cap didn’t seem to notify anyone that he had buried a secret bomb prototype in that spot, either, as the military likely would have removed it before returning the house to the Buttons if he had.

The only worse options I can think of for bomb disposal are just chucking it out with the rubbish or locking it in a closet like his sexuality (my poor boy). if he still needed it, he should have either had it locked up in a vault only he knew the combination to, or sent it on to one of those secure military warehouses that existed in droves in those days and if he didn’t need it anymore, he should have burned the plans and then taken it out to an empty field away from the house and done a controlled demolition on it. Or if it was a situation somewhere in between, he could have kept the plans in a vault and destroyed the prototype. But my son, my poor semi-incompetent son, he just buries everything in the back yard.

 Stay tuned for the final part, our downer ending, encompassing both the end of the war and the end of Cap’s life, when I get around to finishing writing it. I’ve passed the 10,000 word mark for the entire analysis, though, so that’s something.  

[fandomlovingfreak]

Healing His Heart (11/?)

Young Remus Lupin/Reader

Rating: Mature / Explicit (Lemon) 18+ Readers ONLY

Word Count: 4199

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Summary: (y/n) is two years younger than him, a popular Slytherin, and Regulus Black’s best friend. Yet he can’t help but be attracted to her bewitching personality and sweet smile. Unfortunately, his er–problem makes it harder to get close to others. Despite his attempts to push her away (for her own good) she seems determined to worm her way into his life.

Notes: Sorry for the delay in my writing. I’m in my final semester of college and I’m just busy! Also, I hope I wrote this well. I wanted to convey some awkwardness that goes along with first times, so hopefully I did it justice? I don’t like to write lemons (because I’m not sure if I’m actually good at it) but I try!

Enjoy

The days after the full moon are spent with (y/n) curled up next to him under the thick comforter of his bed. Time seems to last forever as they spend lazy hours in each other's arms, talking with the occasional kiss or two. The other three boys keep out of their way most of the day, not interested in watching the two of them. 

(y/n) leans against the wooden headboard of his bed, reading to him from one of the novels her parents gave her for Christmas. He's pretty sure he has died, and this is his paradise, as he listens to her sweet voice as she reads aloud. He can tell she's gotten lost in the book's world by the way her brow furrows as she reads, her index finger stroking the page absentmindedly.

(y/n) does notice, though, when he sinks further into his pillow.

"Are you getting tired?" she brushes his bangs from his face.

"No," Remus smiles up at her, "just enjoying listening to you read."

(y/n) chuckles, "are you feeling any better?"

He nods, "again, your miracle tonic works marvels."

"As it should. I'm glad there wasn't too much physical damage this time. You look nearly normal."

"Nearly normal?" He teases.

She runs her thumb under his eye, "you look tired right now. Though usually, you do study much too late into the night, so I suppose you've always got slight bags under your eyes." Her face scrunches up as she grins mischievously at him.

"Bags? Under my eyes?" Remus chuckles, "I do not!"

"You need to sleep more. I'll have to start nagging Sirius about that--"

"Godric-- Do not get Sirius involved in our relationship," Remus rolls his eyes dramatically. That's the last thing he wants.

"Well, I can't badger you at two in the morning to put down the textbook!"

Remus sits up against the headboard, "Trust me, Sirius is passed out cold by two in the morning."

(y/n) grins, looking back down at her book, "the fact that you know that confirms to me you're awake at two. You need to sleep, Remus Lupin!"

"I'll sleep when I'm dead!" His arm is behind his head as he grins at her.

(y/n) sighs, closing her book, "well, you have the opportunity to sleep right now--"

"I want to spend time with you, (y/n). Sleep can wait." He can't help the yawn that escapes as he speaks.

She shakes her head, "I can cuddle with you till you fall asleep." (y/n) lays down, facing him.

"I can compromise, I suppose." Remus leans his forehead against hers. She scoots forwards, breathing easily as they lay in perfect silence. He feels her fingers trailing up and down his arm as he dozes off.

***

Most days of the break are spent similarly. Relaxation and restoration on the top of everyone's lists. Well, except James and Sirius's, it seemed, as they continued to sneak around the castle at night, getting away with heaps of rule-breaking due to the break's lighter professor patrolling.

On one of the last nights before the flood of students would return in full force, Remus snuck (y/n) into the Gryffindor common room. When his housemates returned, he doubted they'd turn a blind eye to the Slytherin girl spending so much time in their space. 

"Tell me something about yourself that I don't already know," (y/n) asks.

"What do you want to know?" 

(y/n) looks thoughtful for a beat before grinning, "Who was your first kiss?" 

"Uh-- Sophia Blackleach."

"Wait, you kissed-- Sophia?" (y/n) pulls away from him. "Sophia Blackleach, as in the beautiful Ravenclaw girl that graduated last year?"

"It was one time. At one of the parties Sirius and James pulled together last minute after a match." He shrugs.

(y/n) purses her lips, "Interesting--"

Remus exhales, "Yeah... And I know you haven't--"

"What do you mean  I haven't ? Of course I've kissed other people, Remus."

"What? Like--who?" There's absolutely no logical reason he feels the familiar sting of jealousy over his girlfriend in the past kissing other people.

"Um…" (y/n) 's smile is small, "A couple of Slytherins throughout the years--and uhm--A Hufflepuff boy my fourth year. And obviously Regulus."

"Regulus?" He sits up straighter.  This is news to him.  He knew they were close, but--?

"Obviously, Regulus. We're best friends. You don't think we were curious at one point or another?" (y/n) looks away, a small smile on her lips.

"I just... guess I never thought--?" But of course,  he had . He'd thought they were together before she had yelled at him in the corridor a few months ago.

"What can I say? He's not even close to Sirius' level of charisma, but Regulus  can  be charming. And he's cute enough," She shrugs. Remus feels an angry blush come over his face at that. "Oh, come on, Remus. Just because I said he's cute doesn't mean I don't think you are cuter." She presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Still--"

"You're  my  handsome boy, and unmistakably, the most important person to me. You never have to worry about Regulus or anyone else, Remus Lupin, because you have my entire heart." Her fingers trail down his chest, her eyes not meeting his.

The words bubble in his chest before he confesses the truth he's been afraid to articulate to (y/n). "I love you," he murmurs, his forehead leaning against hers.

Her eyes shoot open, "You mean that?"

Remus feels his face heat up, "I do."

(y/n) laughs, pulling him down for another kiss, "I love you too!"

He grins, kissing her back. (y/n) moves to straddle his lap, cupping his jaw in her hands. His hands roam her sides magnetically, settling on the warm skin of her back under her-- his  jumper. She keeps his back pinned against the couch as she slyly grinds down against his lap. Happily, he swallows the little sounds she makes, feeling bolder with each movement of her hips against his thigh. Remus grasps the sides of her sweater, feeling like with an especially harsh tug, he could tear the offending garment in half. 

The way she's moving her hips intoxicates his body, but his thoughts sober his actions.

"Darling--  we can't --" Reluctant hands try to stop her hip's movements.

"We can. I trust you, and I want you, Remus." Her hips stop moving, but her hands trail down to his belt buckle. He watches her eyes, framed by innocent lashes.

He feels his neck burn up at her words as his eyes follow her hands, "But--"

(y/n) moves her hands away from him, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable--"

Remus shakes his head, "no... you have no idea  how much  I want to-- I just have never--?"

"And that's fine. It's not like I have any experience either."

He doesn't meet her eye, "I have no idea what I'm doing--"

"We can figure it out together. If you want to, that is--"

He strokes her hipbone with the pad of his thumb, mind wandering for a moment. Even with all the things that could go wrong, he can't deny how badly he wants to-- "Not here... in my dorm."

(y/n)'s eyes light up as he gives in to her seduction, "Are your roommates not in there?"

"No. They're off doing whatever mischief they could come up with tonight,  so if you want to -- we have the room to ourselves."

(y/n) kisses him again before hopping off the couch, "c'mon then." She holds her hand out.

Remus hesitates only a second before he's grabbing her hand and hauling himself off of the couch. (y/n) eagerly pulls him towards the staircase.

"Are you sure, though? You're feeling better then?" (y/n) 's words are full of concern, but he can tell from her voice that she hopes he won't change his mind. 

Remus stops her near a window, pulling her against his body and kissing her, "I'm one hundred percent sure."

She nods, "I love you." (y/n) leans up to kiss him.

Remus tugs at her sweater sleeve, "I love you too, darling, but I don't think we should continue this on the staircase."

"Fair enough," (y/n) chuckles, letting him lead her the rest of the way up the stairs and into his room.

He feels the nerves sink in when the door is closed behind him. (y/n) seems to hesitate as well, before she steps towards him, "I'm a bit nervous, but uhm--"

"Lets-- Let's go slow. We have plenty of time." 

She nods, her lips slightly agape as she waits for him to make a move, which he does. Her body molds against his as he kisses her. Slowly he makes his way to the bed, maneuvering their bodies, so she's underneath him on the soft duvet.

"Oh wow--" gazing down at her like she's a treasure, he whispers, "you're so beautiful, (y/n)."

She grins up at him, "Can I take your shirt off?"

He tenses up, "Um--"

"Is this about--?" she reaches up to touch his face, "it's not about the scars, is it?"

He looks away, "It is-- yes."

(y/n) slowly sits up, her hand guiding him with her body. Remus leans back onto his heels, watching her pull the jumper off her body, his eyes eager. He groans, "Oh wow--"

"Yeah?" (y/n) 's eyes dance with amusement at his ogling. 

"Yes. You're--  oh wow. " Remus reaches out to touch her, stopping before he touches her, "Can I--?"

"Please."

Remus swallows hard; he cups her breast tentatively.

(y/n) giggles, "I appreciate that you're so... gentle, but I need you to do something besides just sit there with your hand on my boob."

His face reddens, "sorry..."

(y/n) pulls him back down on top of her, "I want you to kiss me, but I also need you to continue to touch me. Understand?"

Remus agrees enthusiastically, doing exactly what she's asked of him. Her leg wraps around his waist, urging his hips towards hers. Remus experimentally rolls his hips, growling at the friction as he nuzzles at her neck, pressing hot kisses to her neck.

" Now , can I take your shirt off?" her hands sneak under his shirt, resting on his stomach.

Remus sits up, pulling his shirt over his head. (y/n) grins up at him.

His eyes are focused on the comforter as her eyes roamed his chest and abdomen hungrily.

"You are-- so beautiful, Remus."

He flushes, " beautiful ?"

(y/n) nods, "I know it's not conventional to call boys beautiful, but you are."

How she could be in awe over him,  scars, and all  is beyond him. Feeling self-conscious, he crosses his arms over his chest. (y/n) reaches towards him, her eyes full of concern, "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Just-- I don't understand how you can think the scars are anything but repulsive."

She smiles sweetly, "you know I've already seen you without a shirt plenty of times, right?"

"Still, (y/n)..." 

"Remus, darling," she reaches up, caressing his face, "what do I have to do to get you to see yourself the way I do?"

Remus chuckles, "I dunno..."

(y/n) sighs, sitting up. "C'mon then. On your back Lupin."

"On my back?" He chuckles.

She nods towards the bed, "yes."

Remus tilts his head, confused about what she's getting at before obeying her request. (y/n) straddles his hips. Remus's hands plant themselves on her hips, moving her slightly against his erection.

"For a moment, Remus," she laughs, "let me touch you. That means keeping your hands to yourself." He frowns, "Just for a moment, I promise."

"Fine," he leans back on his arm that is resting behind his head.

"Good boy," she grins as she runs her hands down his torso. Remus inhales sharply, squirming as her fingers trail through the light dusting of hair on his lower abdomen, dipping under the waistband of his jeans for just a moment. The muscles of his stomach contract under her soft fingers. "Do you like that, Remus?" His stomach flip flops.

"Yes..."

(y/n) hums, "Let me show you how much I love you,  mhm ? Will you, darling?" He nods as she traces one of the deeper scars that runs from his collar bone down below his sternum.

"You're so good, Remus. And so handsome. Do you know that?" He gulps, "No, I didn't think so. You think I should find these scars...  repulsive ? Is that what you said?"

"(y/n)..."

"Do you think that, Remus? Yes or no?" She shifts her hips, trapping his aching cock against her heat.

"Fuck..." his voice is deep as he tries to grind up towards her body. Her face softens as she moans at the movement.

"Quit it, Remus," she tries to regain control, but Remus rolls his hips against hers again, grinning like a jackass.

"Whoops--" he tries to look innocently up at her.

"Ugh, Remus!" She's laughing, "You've completely made me lose my train of thought."

"Sorry!"

"I'm not done with you, but you--" she sighs in frustration, "I need you so badly, Remus..." 

"You need me, hmm?" He grins, fingers rubbing against her hipbone.

"So badly," she pouts.

Remus growls, " so badly ?" (y/n) nods, her hands snaking up his torso. "So badly that you can't keep your hands to yourself?"

"I don't want to keep my hands to myself..."

"Naughty girl," he chuckles.

"Do something--" (y/n) pouts, languidly moving her hips.

Remus maneuvers her underneath him once again, "what do you want?"

(y/n) squirms, "I want you."

Remus feels the sudden uncertainty overcome him again, unsure how to proceed from here. "Uh--"

Recognizing his nerves, (y/n) slyly moves her hands down to the front of his jeans. Her eyes flicker up to his as she slowly pops the button as if she's gauging his reaction.

"Is this okay?" Her voice is breathy as she pauses for a moment.

Remus holds his breath, nodding. (y/n) continues, her nimble fingers working the zipper before she's pulling his jeans down his hips. Her movements stutter as her bold actions catch up to her.

He kicks his jeans off the bed, leaning down to kiss her. His fingers skim the edge of her jeans.

"Take them off?" She mumbles.

Remus sits up, fingers fumbling with the button of her jeans before he gets it undone. Removing her jeans reveals black lace. He inwardly groans.

He must have been staring for quite a while, as (y/n) fidgets underneath his gaze. "Sorry, darling." Remus ducks down once more to kiss her, his hands traveling up to her breasts. Clumsily, he plays with the hardening bud of her nipple as he presses kisses to her neck. He feels her hand descend down his chest and over the muscle of his abdomen before her fingers find their mark. She cups him through the material of his boxer shorts. In response, he nips below her ear.

"Don't leave too many marks," she giggles as he bites down gently again before pressing multiple open-mouth kisses to the spot.

"Just enough so everyone knows you're mine," Remus growls against her skin. (y/n)'s fingers comb through his hair, tugging at the roots. Remus's hips involuntarily buck towards her hand.

Feeling like he can't bear another moment of the delicious torture, he speaks up, "Can I--?" His fingers trace beneath the band of the lacey underwear. (y/n) nods up at him, her eyes searching his. Remus slowly removes the garment, discarding it on the floor next to the bed. She looks radiant as she looks up at him, her eye contact never faltering as he reaches down to run his fingers over her newly exposed body.

(y/n) grips his forearm, throwing her head back as he presses a finger inside of her. He shudders at the way she clenches down on the digit.

"Godric--" he watches as his finger disappears into her heat.

"More!" she demands.

"Are you sure?" he stills his hand.

(y/n) giggles, "yes, I'm sure. I can take more than a finger, Remus."

He blushes, "just making sure." Slowly, he adds a second finger.

"Yes, like that," she moves her hips back against his fingers.

"Fuck--" Remus watches as she continues to thrust against his hand. 

Her eyes, bright with lust, plead with him, "I can't wait any longer."

Remus gulps, hand moving away from her, "yeah?"

She nods, "Do you want me to-- or?" Her fingers brush against the band of his underwear. 

The last of his clothing is off in an instant. He stares down at (y/n) for a moment before moving back between her thighs.

"I know I sound like a broken record-- but I have to make sure you're one hundred percent sure you want to do this, (y/n)," he strokes the inside of her thigh.

(y/n) nods, "I am. Please, Remus..."

"Oh darling," he smiles down at her, "you have no idea how much I love to hear you beg..."

She frowns, "c'mon then. What's the delay?" She moves her hips towards his.

Remus chuckles, positioning himself at her velvety entrance. (y/n)'s lips part, eyes flickering down towards his groin.

"You sure?"

"Please--" (y/n) 's eyes shoot up to his.

Remus slowly pushes into her, watching with interest. (y/n)'s tightening grip on his bicep breaks him out of his trance.

"Are you okay? Should I pul--"

"No! No, just give me a second…" She exhales, leaning back in an attempt to relax.

Remus leans forwards over her, closing his eyes as he feels every squeeze of her vice-like grip on him. He breathes shakily, trying to keep himself stable above her.

(y/n) smiles, her body feeling much laxer under his, "okay...move a little." 

"Oh god--(y/n). You feel amazing." Their kiss is deep as he fills her.

Her fingers in his hair, pulling ever so slightly against the roots. He hisses at the slight tugging, his hips bucking against hers.

"Oh god, Remus…" 

He kisses the junction of her jaw, biting down on the soft flesh of her neck. (y/n) groans as he tongues at the quickly bruising skin. 

Moving to sit up between her legs, he experiments at the deepness of the pull and drag of his thrusting. He snaps his hips against hers, enjoying the way the movement makes her tits bounce. 

"Are you uh--" he feels his face heat up, "enjoying this?"

(y/n) laughs throatily, moving her legs up against his waist. She shudders underneath him, grinding her hips against each of his thrusts. Their movements together are mesmeric, like this dance was made for them.

"You're so--" her chuckle is accompanied by a sigh, "You're  rather large ,  as cheesy as that sounds ."

"Merlin--(y/n)  you can't just say things like that ..." Leaning back over her, he lets his head dangle between his shoulders, "I'm not gonna last much longer."

"Don't hold back," he surrenders himself to the rock of her hips, feeling completely overwhelmed by his mounting climax.

"You haven't even--"

"It's fine, darling. You can make it up to me after."

He feels his face heat up at the implications but nods along anyway. Pinning her hips down against his bed, he picks up the pace of his thrusts.

Seconds later, his hips begin to stutter. (y/n) pulls him down, hungrily swallowing the grunts and groans that escape his lips.

"(y/n)," he mumbles against her lips, eyes squeezing shut as intense pleasure overcomes him.

"Godric--  (y/n) ," Remus buries his face in her neck, grunting against her neck as the pleasure continues to ripple through his body. (y/n) runs her fingers through his hair, gradually bringing him back to Earth. 

Remus nuzzles against her neck, kissing her neck as his orgasm subsides.

"Was it good? What you expected?" Her blunt nails gently scratch against his scalp as she continues to play with his hair.

Remus hums in the back of his throat, "more than. How about you?"

She runs her hands over his shoulders, "obviously better."

He flushes, feeling inadequate, "You didn't even finish, though--"

(y/n) chuckles, pressing kisses to his temple, "Like I said, darling. You can make it up to me later. Besides, I like to see you enjoying yourself."

His face reddens again, "I should probably cast the contraceptive charm--"

"Oh yes, please," she squirms as he sits up.

Noticing her discomfort, he stills, "Did I hurt you?"

"No. Just a bit uncomfortable when you-- uh-- pulled out."

"Oh-- Let me cast the charm, and then I-- Can I try something?"

"Sure," she sits up on her elbows as he reaches for his wand.

Waving his wand, he mutters, "Prohibeō Partus." Soft white light covers (y/n) for a moment before sinking into her skin.

"I have to remember that one," she laughs, "what did you want to try?"

Remus sets his wand back down on his side table before moving further down the bed between her legs.

(y/n) seems to understand in an instant what he's planning as she hesitantly sits up on her elbows, "Wait--"

"Yes?" Remus moves to look up at her.

She looks flustered, her chest heaving a little bit, "I'm just a little bit self-conscious, I guess?"

Remus rubs circles on her thighs, "It'll feel good, trust me." Well,  trust Sirius and James and their incredibly graphic descriptions of their conquests.

(y/n) nods, leaning back again. He takes that as the signal to go, easily chuckling before he leans down again. He had to admit, at that moment, hearing about his friend's experiences was incredibly different compared to actually doing it himself. He understood the obvious mechanics of it, but--  it all seemed so complicated  when he came face to face with the task.

Cautiously, he licks up her slit. (y/n) whimpers, her hips tilting slightly towards him. Sliding in two fingers into her, he gains courage at her reactions, paying more attention to her clit. (y/n) seems to like the way he lightly flicked his tongue against the bundle of nerves, so he continues to test which movements elicit the best reaction from her. (y/n)'s hands shoot down to his head, pushing his mouth further into her dripping core when he sucks lightly.

"Oh god, Remus…" she laces her fingers through his hair, "right there!"

He laughs, pumping his fingers in and out of her. The vibrations of his laughter against her clit have her fluttering around his fingers. 

"I'm so close--" He watches her throw her head back, knuckles turning white as they grip at his comforter.

"Touch yourself, darling," his voice sounds foreign as he instructs her.

(y/n)'s (y/e/c) eyes dart down to his. 

She leans up on her forearms, chest heaving as she asks, "Where do you want me to touch myself?" The little smirk on her lips does something to him.

"Let me see you play with those beautiful tits." (y/n) 's eyebrows rise in shock before she obeys.

"You like that, Remus?" She squeezes her right breast, paying extra attention to the nipple, "like eating me out as you watch me play with my tits? Mhm?"

Another feral growl escapes his mouth, vibrations crashing over her sensitive cunt.

"Merlin!" She squirms against his mouth. 

Remus frowns, "That's not  my name , baby."

(y/n) whines as he moves his mouth away from her, "Remus John Lupin! I swear to Merlin himself... if you don't make me cum--"

"You'll what, love? What will you do?" He smirks, watching her eyes. She's got a lovely, angry look on her face that he finds incredibly attractive at this moment.

"I'll find someone else who will!" she threatens, starting to sit up.

"No, you won't," he pins her hips to the bed, "there is no one in this entire world that will ever get the privilege to hear the sounds you make, darling. No one.  I promise ."

"Then make me cum.  Now. " She looks radiant as she commands, her chest heaving with interrupted pleasure.

Remus pauses another second before continuing, determined to make her cum on his tongue alone.

With a third finger, he focuses on stretching her as he focuses most of his attention on the movement against her clit.

Her sighs and moans of his name are euphonious as he continues to tease her with short drags of his tongue, collecting the sweetness of her release.

Remus looks up at her. Her head is still pressed against his pillow, breasts rising and falling in uneven breathes as the last of her climax washes away.

"Where did you even learn that?" she asks, staring up at the canopy of his bed.

Moving from the bottom of the bed to cuddle up to her recovering body, "Sirius and James talk  a lot  about their sex lives."

"That--" (y/n) blinks at him, "was all based on stories you've heard?"

Remus chuckles, "They're incredibly descriptive."

"Or you're a natural?  Merlin --"

He leans over to kiss her, "I hardly think I'm a natural, darling."

"I dunno... I wasn't expecting such  finesse  out of the gate."

He shrugs, "was it really that good?"

"I don't exactly have anything to compare it to,  but I think so ? At least I enjoyed myself, which is the point, no?" She sits up slowly, stretching her arms over her head, "I desperately need to clean up, though. You don't happen to know any spells for that, do you?"

"I might know a spell or two..."

"I was joking!" (y/n) shrieks, "where are you learning these spells?"

He flushes, "Sirius--"

[ohsnapcracklepopfriends]

To be named GGMU fic: Part three - Drunk Mancs and Karaoke Don't Mix

After way too long, I'm back with another instalment of my GGMU fic (three parts down, four to go). Sorry, it took so long, life has been insanely hectic. I just wrote this in an hour of power writing, I hope you like it. Part one and part two if you haven't read them <3

Christmas parties at Sky were generally a disaster. Not only did they usually involve a room full of people all too competitive for their own good, there was usually the presence of both alcohol and cell phones which were a dangerous combination. All of this was worse to witness sober. Jamie had made the terrible decision of being the designated driver. Gary had one rule that he’d made clear to Jamie when they first started going out together: do not put drunk Gary in a cab. Gary’s a handsy drunk with zero self-control. They both know sitting in the back of a cab with drunk Gary was a recipe for a traumatized cabbie and a couple of disastrous news articles in the morning. So Jamie had agreed to drive, and that was fine. He was fine with it, truly. Jamie watched as Gary danced around in the bar they had rented out, jumping around freely while Graeme looked on with his disapproving grimace. Jamie wished he could be dancing with him, blaming it on the alcohol.

Jamie took a sip of his apple juice--which was fucking good, okay? Back off. He swished it around in his mouth, pretending it was something stronger. He swallowed and looked up. Gary was still jumping around without a care in the world. Jamie could tell he was really drunk. Gary was a total lightweight and he’d probably had about four beers to get to this point. Jamie chuckled to himself, thinking back to the nights they’d shared together when they first started dating. They’d spent quite a few nights on the floor of Gary’s living room with a bottle of wine and a bag of crisps. Jamie treasured those nights. He treasured the moments where Gary was buzzing and less scared of his emotions, letting them just enjoy their time together without Gary’s mind spinning.

Gary looked in Jamie’s direction. His face lit up when he saw Jamie leaning against the counter. He scrambled over until he stood right up against Jamie’s shoes.

“Did you see Redders?” Gary asked in a rush. Jamie laughed at the big goofy smile on his lips. He did, in fact, see Redders. Redders had taken to the small stage in the corner after his third pint. He’d been singing away at the top of his lungs--very poorly, Jamie might add--for the past hour or so.

“I want to sing, James. Come sing with me.” He tugged at Jamie’s arm. Jamie had fallen for this trap before. Last year he’d made the mistake of joining Gary for some drunk karaoke and ended up trending on Twitter. Jamie was not a singer for a reason.

“I’m sure Redders will sing with you” Jamie offered. Gary pouted. Gary was one of those people who were easy to imagine as a child. He could see a younger Gary in the way he acted when he was tired, grumpy, stubborn, and bleary-eyed. He could see a younger Gary in the way he giggled at Jamie’s jokes. He could see a younger Gary in the way he pouted during times like this, trying to sway Jamie to agree with him. It worked more than Jamie liked to admit.

“I’ll come and watch you?” Jamie tried to bargain again. Gary nodded this time and dragged Jamie towards the stage. Jamie happily let himself be pulled along. Gary’s hand was warm and sweaty where it was clutching at Jamie’s, but Jamie didn’t mind. After playing football for that long, he couldn’t be bothered by sweat anymore. After one testimonial match, Jamie found he actually liked Gary sweaty: he liked to lick beads of sweat off of Gary’s furrowed brows and watch him shutter--but that’s a story for another time.

Jamie wished they could stay like this, Gary holding his hand tightly, tugging insistently on it every few seconds, but all too soon, they found themselves at the stage. Gary dropped his hand and hopped up onto the small, wooden platform. Redders was still on the stage, red-faced and (poorly) belting the ending to Tainted Love. The stage was so small that the two men took up most of the space. Gary reached behind Redders to grab the second microphone. He grabbed Redders by the shoulder and whispered in his ear. Redders’ amused smile made Jamie nervous: what the hell did this drunk idiot have in mind?

Redders jumped off the stage with far too much grace for someone as injury prone and drunk as Jamie knew he was. He ran over to the karaoke machine and picked their song before scurrying back onto the stage to join Gary. Jamie was confused when the guitar started and he couldn’t place it.

“I got chills--” Redders started to sing and realization set into Jamie’s mind. Oh dear god, he thought, they’re doing Grease. “--It’s electrifying!” Jamie groaned. He couldn’t help himself. There was no way this wouldn’t somehow end up on Twitter. He knew sober Gary would not find this nearly as funny if it made headlines. Jamie started scanning the crowd for people with their phones out. Thankfully, most people had either gone home or were drowning themselves at the bar, after all, what was free booze for? Jamie noticed Geoff filming out of the corner of his eye. He practically ran over to him.

“You better shape up!” Gary starting singing now. He was by no means an angel, if Jamie was honest he was pretty fucking terrible. But like everything Gary did, he sang with a fiery passion and excitement that just made it utterly endearing. Jamie loved it when Gary sang.

“Give me that,” Jamie grabbed Geoff’s phone from his hands, which was pretty easy considering how sloshed he was. He barely even protested as Jamie deleted the videos and shut off his phone because Jamie was smart and knew Geoff was too far gone to figure out how to turn it back on.

“--tooooooo my heart I must be trueeeeeeee,” Gary was dancing around on the stage and Jamie couldn’t help but take a moment to stop worrying and just admire the carefree smile of his boyfriend, so blissfully happy as he made a fool out of himself in front of all of their colleagues. Jamie noticed that Gary was staring at him. Gary then brought his hand up to point directly at him.

“You’re the one that I want! Oh! Oh! Oh! Jamie!” Oh no. Oh no. This was a complete disaster. Jamie couldn’t stop himself, he jumped up on the stage. The limited space meant he had to stand pressed against Gary. Gary just smiled up at him and shoved his microphone up to Jamie’s lips. And as much as he hated it, Jamie could never deny him anything.

“Oh yes indeed,” Jamie half-sang, half spoke. It was awkward and hard to listen to even to his own ears, but Gary beamed at him and Jamie felt a smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

And then he remembered why he got up here in the first place: not to sing, not to smile at Gary like a big, lovesick dork--no, he was here to put an end to this. He was here to take Gary home safely before any further disaster could strike just like he’d promised.

“If you’re filled with affection--” Redders started to sing again. Jamie used this opportunity to make their escape. He pried the microphone from Gary’s hands before placing it gently on the stage. He put his arm around Gary’s middle and firmly led him off the stage.

“Where are we going?” Gary asked. He was looking up at Jamie from where he was tucked against Jamie’s side. Jamie knew it was probably too intimate a position for them to hold in public but he found he was too exhausted to care.

“We’re going home, love,” Jamie said softly against Gary’s ear. Gary gave him a wicked grin and started to worm his fingers under Jamie’s jacket. Jamie pushed his arm away holding it against Gary’s side. This was not the time or place.

“You’re going to make me wait for it?” Gary asked. “That’s okay. It’ll be better when you fuck me later. I’ll be so ready. I’ll be begging for you.” Jamie let out a long breath. Fuck. Luckily, or unluckily depending on how you looked at it, they were out of the bar, walking down the street towards Jamie’s car. On the bright side, no one was close enough to hear Gary being far too drunk to care that he’s being far too loud. However, anyone could be on the street: reporters, idiots with cameras, though now Jamie is realizing that those are kind of the same thing. Jamie’s kidding, of course. He guessed he was kind of a journalist himself now. He generally thought of journalists as no-life drama vultures for the Daily Mail or worse The S*n.

Jamie was pretty used to wrangling drunk Gary into vehicles against his will, but this time was different. Gary was usually uncooperative just for the sake of being uncooperative. This trait just worsened after a few pints. That night Gary was shockingly content, though. He wasn’t argumentative or difficult, he was sweet and happy. He leaned into Jamie’s side on their walk and looked up at him like he just signed Messi for Man United (which Jamie couldn’t do obviously, and even if he could, he wouldn’t). When it came time to get into Jamie’s car, Gary went without complaint, let alone their usual wrestling match. Jamie was honestly getting kind of worried.

“Are you high?” He asked as he put the car in reverse. Jamie had never known Gary to smoke but he figured it was a possible explanation for his strange behaviour. Gary hummed in confusion.

“What?” He asked. Gary’s face was smushed against the passenger window, fogging up the glass with every breath.

“Are you okay?” Jamie rephrased his question for Gary’s scrambled brain, “you seem weird.”

“I’m not weird, James,” he said, his words even more drawn out than usual, “I’m happy.” He started humming something under his breath but it was so quiet that Jamie could not make it out over the engine. “Singing makes me happy, Jamie,” Gary said and Jamie knew. Gary was generally not as public of a singer as he had been that night, but he always loved singing. He sang in the shower, something that Jamie found entirely endearing. Jamie loved waking up in the morning to the sound of water and Gary’s slow voice. Jamie remembered Gary doing karaoke all the way back in their England days. He and Crouchy were always the most enthusiastic, though Jamie would never have guessed that until he saw it with his own eyes.

“I know,” Jamie said, “it makes me happy, too.” It was probably a little too honest but Jamie knew Gary wouldn’t notice. Even if he did notice, he wouldn’t remember it in the morning.

“Do you want me to sing to you?” And yet again, Jamie just couldn’t say no to Gary. Jamie expected more of what he’d heard at the pub: some eighties songs, maybe an NSYNC song or two (Redders loved NSYNC). He didn’t expect Gary to start happily singing Glory Glory Man United in his fucking car.

“Gary, what the hell?” Jamie protested but Gary just shushed him and kept singing. Jamie could hear his feet tapping against the mat of the car. And right when Jamie was about to smack Gary in the head, he realized something: Gary was drunk. Now obviously it didn’t take a genius to figure that out: he’d been steadily drinking since the party began and you could see the drunkenness in his red, flushed ears. But Jamie realized that Gary’s drunk brain was prone to forgetting basic, fundamental information. Like, for example, that Jamie was a Scouser.

Jamie figured that in Gary’s drunk brain, he wanted to sing a song to make Jamie happy. But like he’d forgotten that Tracey played netball on New Year the year before or that he was a right-back on one especially wild Wednesday night, he had forgotten that the song that brought his manc heart so much joy, did not spark the same happy memories for his boyfriend. He wasn’t trying to get on Jamie’s nerves and that knowledge comforted Jamie enough not to reach over and strangle him. So Jamie just let him sing and quietly suffered as he drove along. He tried to tamp down the simmering irritation the song automatically sparked in the pit of his stomach.

Mercifully for Jamie, Gary drifted off in the passenger’s seat less than ten minutes into their drive. Jamie instead drove the rest of the way to the sound of Gary’s loud snores.

[jaskiersvalley]

Vulture In Lark’s Clothing

As a rule of thumb, Geralt didn’t ask questions. He assessed a contract from purely his own perspective, whether it was worth his time and danger and, if he deemed it valuable, he took it. No questions asked. No prying into who he was protecting, who he was escorting or why. If the money was good, he did it. It was why people liked him so much, employed him despite his less than sociable demeanour. The job got done and he didn’t fuss, even if he got blood and guts in his hair.

His latest contract was a curious one. Pick someone up from prison and escort them to the other side of the country to a hearing. Allegedly he was a witness but Geralt couldn’t care if it was his own hearing. A job was a job.

There have been many people Geralt had met but not a single one had been quite as exasperating as Jaskier. Who the fuck got arrested with only a lute and some fancy clothes to their name? Jaskier. Obviously. But it was neither here nor there. What mattered was that he was constantly making noise. Wherever he went, the lute did too. Even when Geralt threatened to throw it out the car window, Jaskier had just laughed and began composing a ditty about a tumbleweed crossing a country having more of a personality than Geralt.

The thing that made Geralt so good at his job was his ability to just deal with things without a fuss. He’d picked up on the fact they were being followed a while back. It wasn’t anything to be concerned about just yet. Well, he was concerned but he had it in hand. Their tail was keeping their distance, watching and assessing.

“So, our charming friend has been very thorough in his observations,” Jaskier commented out of the blue as they had stopped to get lunch. The ever present lute was leaning against his chair as he picked through a salad, eating all the onion from it.

“Nothing to worry about.” Geralt replied and munched steadily on his burger.

That night they were in a motel, Jaskier in the bed, Geralt on the sofa. When Geralt woke up suddenly, he tried to figure out what had roused him. A peek into the bedroom and Jaskier wasn’t there. Probably gone to the bathroom but checking there revealed an empty room. Scouting through the kitchen and living room, Geralt was ready to grab his guns and track down the idiot who stole him. To do that, he would need information, namely how some schmuck got into the bedroom and abducted Jaskier from under his nose. Pushing the bedroom door open, Geralt blinked. There was Jaskier, curled up in bed and fast asleep. Maybe Geralt was more tired that he’d thought, to have missed the fact Jaskier was there all along. He returned to the sofa and tucked his guns under the cushion, grumbling. Weirdly enough, their tail was gone the next morning.

One problem with Jaskier (well, one of the many) was the fact that he was so soft. Always demanding they stop over night somewhere with a decent bed, getting stroppy when they only bought food from a petrol station, he even went as far as kicking up a fuss when they hadn’t had the chance to shower for three days. How he survived in prison was beyond Geralt. He wouldn’t ask though, that wasn’t his place and asking meant he might actually care. Which he most certainly didn’t.

A spot of trouble happened at one of the restaurants they had stopped off at. A group of idiots had taken quite a dislike to Jaskier singing in the corner while Geralt ordered at the bar. They were closing in on him and Geralt could hear his name being called. To cut a violent story short, the men didn’t end up bothering Jaskier. But the price of that was being barred from the restaurant. From in front of the door they had just been thrown through, Jaskier turned, hands in the air as he cursed them, threatened to write a scathing song and leave a very rude review online. Silently, Geralt wiped the blood from his knuckles and walked towards the car. This job was starting be much more of a hassle than worth.

At least, he thought that until Jaskier turned his flirting to Geralt. It had been common enough for Jaskier to wink and compliment his way through any establishment they set foot in. Praise for the receptionist at the motel, a smile filled with promise to the attendant at the petrol station, he even had the gall to blatantly and appreciatively give the cleaner of the restaurant bathroom once over the one time. As an outsider, Geralt found it charmingly sleazy. But even he couldn’t deny that it was worth the small upgrades he would never have got before.

“You never know who you’re meeting,” Jaskier had reasoned.

The attention Jaskier started paying Geralt was awkward at first. Geralt had no idea what to do. He’d seen Jaskier go through the motions umpteen times before, knew it didn’t mean anything. And yet, he wanted to feel as special as Jaskier suggested he was. Which was just ludicrous, Geralt didn’t need someone’s approval or appreciation. Especially not from an incompetent criminal who got caught. And couldn’t even protect himself from a bunch of idiots at a restaurant. What Geralt missed was the news article about the murder or four men in the town they had just left behind, throats slit.

Whoever Jaskier was, Geralt was starting to realise that he was more important that he thought before. The closer they got to their destination, the more trouble they ran into. Not just people trailing after them now but actual attempts on Jaskier’s life. As if the idiot had actually realised. He merrily strutted through the world as if it was the safest place, strumming his lute and humming. And flirting. Always flirting, even with the pigeons by his feet if the mood took. Yet, Geralt still felt a warmth spreading through him whenever Jaskier smiled at him. It seemed like a special smile, warmer and even more sincere than the ones he gave everyone else. It made Geralt feel alarmingly disarmed in the face of it.

He’d just finished mopping up a trail of people after Jaskier who flounced through little side streets without a worry. This was the reason Geralt liked to wear black clothes, they didn’t show up anywhere near as much blood. Though, to be fair, he did try to just knock people out first. A warning of sorts that if they got near again, he could and would do so much worse.

“Ah! Geralt! I was wondering where you got to.” Jaskier skipped towards him. Actually skipped.

“I had business to take care of.” What he didn’t expect was for Jaskier to push his lute onto his back and stand almost nose to nose with him.

“My wonderful White Wolf, always keeping an eye out for me,” he breathed, eyes flicking to Geralt’s lips. As if Geralt wasn’t paid to keep him alive. It sure as shit wasn’t Geralt doing this out of the goodness of his heart. All thoughts however flew from his mind as Jaskier tugged him in for a kiss. There was a hand in his hair, a tongue in his mouth and a hand drifted over his hip.

The sound of a gun going off was deafening and Geralt froze, eyes opening to see Jaskier, eyes open and staring past Geralt’s head even as they kissed. Pulling away, Geralt looked over his shoulder. There was a body sprawled on the ground, very obviously dead. And Jaskier’s arm was still out, gun in hand.

“I think you missed one,” Jaskier smiled merrily as if he hadn’t just shot someone in a back alley. There was no response to that, Geralt’s brain was a blank static as he tried to realign his opinion or Jaskier with this new information.

“What?” That was going to have to do. It conveyed everything and Jaskier liked to talk anyway.

As expected, Jaskier laughed lightly and tucked the gun he’d slipped from Geralt’s hip back into its holster and patted his cheek fondly. “Well, you’ve been doing such a great job of taking care of the bumps along the road, I didn’t see the need to intervene most of the time.”

The ‘most of the time’ had Geralt’s hackles rising. He was damn good at his job and didn’t need some two-bit idiot claiming to step in to mop up after him. He growled low in his throat, a noise that usually sent most people scattering in fear. However, Jaskier just laughed in his face and called him cute, proceeded to plant another kiss on Geralt’s lips and turned to continue his journey, expecting Geralt to trail after him.

Things didn’t get easier after that. Geralt was trying his best to keep professional and not ask anything about just who Jaskier was. But it wasn’t very professional to fall into bed with Jaskier at any chance he got. Motel bed, bathroom stall, once even in the car, pulled over on the side of the road. It was messy but so damn satisfying.

As always, things went tits up three hours before they got to their destination. There was a car chase that ended with Jaskier hanging out the window of their car and taking alarmingly good potshots at their attackers. They worked in tandem with more ease than Geralt had ever experienced with anyone. While he was on the offensive, Jaskier was restocking in more and more creative ways. He sent a Molotov cocktail of, actually, Geralt didn’t want to think about what he found in the hardware shop to use for that. It exploded, there were screams and they had a window of opportunity to run.

In a way, Geralt almost regretted it. Because while he was loading his guns, Jaskier was hurling hammers, wielding circular saw blades like his personal throwing stars and causing a rather gory mess. At least Geralt managed to wrangle the chainsaw from his grip before he went into a full on fight with that. It was the moment Geralt understood how Jaskier survived prison.

Outside the courtroom, Geralt turned to Jaskier, finally asking the question he had been wanting to all along.

“Who the hell are you?”

It was met with a delighted laugh. “Ever heard of The Bard?” Geralt shook his head. “Little Lark?” Another shake of his head and Jaskier looked both exhilarated and aghast. “The hitman of the century? The singing killer? No?”

“No.” Geralt shook his head.

“In which case,” Jaskier stuck his head out, “I’m Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove.”

“Oh,” Geralt heard that name before. “The one with all the sheep.”

Another light laugh and Jaskier nodded. “The one with all the sheep. Well, thank you for your help in escorting me across the country. I must go, take a plea deal. But be in Blaviken in a year. There’s a dear little cafe there, order me one of their chocolate twists and a cold chocolate for an 11 o’clock date. I’ll meet you there.”

Sure enough, Jaskier took a plea deal, his sentence was reduced from life to twenty-five years. How he thought he’d be in Blaviken a year on, Geralt couldn’t fathom. But once he got the chance, he sat down and did his research, to find out who exactly he had travelled with. And swallowed thickly in fear and awe. Because oh fuck, Jaskier had history and a list of kills longer than Geralt. And those were just the confirmed ones. Fuck.

Despite everything pointing towards the fact that Jaskier was in prison and with no way out, Geralt couldn’t help the small burning ball of hope in his chest. A year after the trial, he made his way to Blaviken. Even wore nicer clothes and brushed his hair - Jaskier had said it was a date after all. It felt a little silly to order for two when there was no chance his date would make it. But still, a coffee and blueberry muffin for himself, and a chocolate twist and cold chocolate for Jaskier.

Settling in the darkest corner of the cafe, Geralt sat back and waited. A shadow fell across his table and he looked up.

“I love the way you just sit in the corner and brood,” a familiar voice greeted him. For the first time in a long while, Geralt smiled.

[1a-imagines]

Can I request hcs/scenario for Deku? They meet Pre-OfA and he starts crushing on her, nd she’s just oblivious even in UA? Thanks!

Puppy crush:

Characters: Midoriya

Type: Just a very fluffy scenario.

Overview: Midoriya's got a crush on the most oblivious person in school, and is trying his best to confess to her, though all his attempts seem to end is disaster.

"Good morning, Midoriya!"

"AAH! G-GOOD MORNING Y-Y/N!"

You let out a laugh at his upbeat attitude, not thinking to question the stuttering or the blush on his face as you passed him and walked into the school.

"Wow.. that was painful to watch." Midoroya heard Kaminari mutter from behind him.

"I do not understand… why don't you just confess already?" Iida chimed in as he followed a defeated looking Midoriya into school. He had yet again made a fool of himself in front if you. Barely managing out a stuttered reply as you greeted him. It was a repeating occurrence that happened everyday. He just couldn't stop himself from feeling tense around you. His heart beat always accelerated to a pace that knocked his breath away, and no matter how many times he tried not to, all he could ever focus on whenever you talked to him was your soft lips. He was turning into a walking disaster and it was starting to drive him insane.

Which is why he kept making an idiot of himself around you. "I-I can't just confess to her! It's not that easy.."

Kaminari raised an eyebrow. "So what? You plan to keep being an awkward mess everyday?"

'That's how I've lived my life so far izuku' thought bitterly. He couldn’t even imagine himself getting enough courage to tell you how he feels! Not to mention all the other things that were holding him back.

He sure he had no chance to be with someone like you. You were beautiful, smart, funny, caring, way out of his league. He didn’t notice himself letting out a dreamy sigh as the very thought of you.

"Oh man, you got it real bad huh?" Kaminari nudged his arm with an amused smile.

The embarrassment seeped in almost immediately. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t hide his attraction to you. Everyone in class had noticed the way he looked at you, how he always stood a bit too close to you without realising it, or how his face turned red anytime you so much as glanced at him. Everybody knew… everybody except you. If he was honest he was thankful that you were too oblivious to notice how obviously in love with you he was. He couldn’t even imagine how horrified he would feel if you found out! He could already feel a shiver run down his spine at the thought of your rejection.

“Confessing might not be easy but maybe it’s for the best? You’re constantly worried that she might find out and not only that, you’ve said quite a few times that you get distracted from your studies by the mere thought of her? This cannot carry on if it’s affecting your education!! You should confess and depending on her reaction you will either be able to relax into a relationship or learn to move on.” He couldn’t deny that Iida had a good point. A lot of his problems would go away if he just manned up a little and confessed to you But he was sure he would be rejected on the spot and his heart could take that kind of hit!

His friends shared a glance as they took notice of his inner turmoil.

“We can help you, dude! I am pretty good with the ladies!”

“You’d really do that?” He looked over to them, a spark of hope in his eyes. Maybe it was lame to have your friends help you with asking a crush out but what other choice did he have? He had no confidence to outright say it to you but you’d never figure it out otherwise! No matter how he acted you always seemed to brush it off as friendly. Even though his face turned red whenever you spoke to him, even though his eyes would avoid yours at all costs, even though he'd trip over his words and make a complete mess of himself. You never caught onto his affections. It felt hopeless.

“Of course we'll help you! Anything for a fellow classmate and friend!”

~~~~

“Hey! Y/n! Come sit with us!” Kaminari said, already dragging you over to his table and not leaving much room for you to protest. “Oh- ok?”

You walked over with him to the table, but when you got there he pushed you to sit down in between Midoriya and himself, though when he plopped down next to you he sat down so close you were forced to be squished up against Izuku. Of course, you never thought to question the behaviour, you didn’t seem too bothered by the close proximity either and began to dig into your lunch.

With your shoulders pressed so tightly together you could feel his body trembling. You turned to him, your eyes filled with worry. "Izuku what's wrong? Are you cold?"

"N-no! I'm fine!" He squeaked.

'Not fine. This is not fine!!' You were so close!! He was too scared to move. He tried to shuffle over a bit but was met with the end of his seat and he almost ended up on the floor. He looked over your shoulder to Kaminari, who was grinning. He sent Midoirya a thumbs up before mouthing "talk to her."

He sighed, this isn’t exactly what he had in mind when he agreed to let them help, but he might as well take the opportunity while you were still here. Who knows when the next chance he could talk to you might be? “So- uh.. How was your day?” He scrambled to find a conversation topic but he assumed he didn’t choose well when he saw Kaminari slap his forehead at his choice.  

“Pretty good! I still hate maths class though, it’s so hard.” You said, mouth full of food. You even had a piece of rice stuck to our cheek and he felt his heart melt at the sight. The way his eyes softened as you talked to him about class did not go unseen by the other two sitting at the table. Honestly, how could you not see the way he smiled at you? It was the dorkiest grin in the world! Iida and Kaminari shared a glance. You really were that oblivious to his affections for you? This was going to be harder than they thought.

“Cute~” He sighed dreamily.

“What?”

“AHH NOTHING!” Midoriya screamed. The way you stared at him with a blank gaze made him want to hit his head off the table. This was so embarrassing, how did he manage to say that outloud?! He couldn't believe that really just happened.

Eventually you let out a giggle, “I think you’re cute too!” You reached over to ruffle his hair. It was such a friendly gesture, he knew you meant nothing by it. It was like something a best friend would do and it killed him inside. You really didn’t see him romantically at all?

“”Well! I’m finished now! Thanks for letting me sit with you, See you guys later!” You stood up and walked off. As soon as you were gone Midoriya let his head fall into his arms on the table. Trying to hide his shame from the rest of the world. “Dude… Even I felt that...” Kaminari shook his head empathetically.

“What do you mean? She said he was cute too! That’s a success, is it not?” Iida was clearly confused as to why the other two looked so defeated. “It was the way she said it, like she was talking to a puppy or a baby rather than a romantic interest.” Kaminari explained before turning to the sulking boy next to him. “Don't worry! We’ll get it next time! You just got to be more forward!”

--

“Are you sure about this?”

“Don’t worry! We’ll be right behind you! All you gotta do is ask her out on the walk to the dorms! It’s quiet and the sun's setting! It’ll be totally romantic! You got this.” Kaminari gave him a thumbs up and Iida followed his suit though he wasn’t sure he could really be much help other than support. He had about as much knowledge on this subject matter than Midoriya did.

With one deep inhale through his nose to calm himself down Midoriya walked over to you when he saw you leaving the school. “Hey y/n! Want to walk back together?”

“Oh? Sure!” Your smile was so radiant and it rendered him speechless again. For a while the walk was silent, but didn’t feel uncomfortable, It was peaceful. Even just being in your presence felt warm. It made him giddy to know that you were walking beside him. It was a strange yet euphoric feeling to be so in love-

‘I’m… in love with her..’ The realisation that his feelings had grown stronger than just some puppy crush hit him like a truck. His hands tightened around the straps of his backpack.

He realised he didn’t have much longer before you two reached your destination. He turned around to see his friends walking at a distance behind him. They gestured to him to go for it and he took another deep breath. These were serious feelings now, they weren’t something he could take lightly or forget about. He loved you, and whether or not you reject him, he needs you to know.

Before he knew it his feet stopped walking and when you noticed he wasn’t beside you anymore you turned around. Tilting your head, “What’s wrong?”

“I-I have something I wanted to ask you.”

You hummed in confusion, gesturing for him to go on. He looked tense, his lips were pressed together tightly as if he were holding something back and it was about to burst. “Whats-”

“Please go out with me!”

There was a small silence, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you after his outburst. He didn’t have a single clue as to what you could be thinking right now, the silence was torturous.

“I’d love to.”

His legs almost gave out when you spoke. He was finally able to look up at you, his eyes shining so brightly, his smile spreading across his cheeks, despite him trying to hold it back.. He felt like he was on cloud nine, he couldn’t believe this was really happening.

“Where are we going to go? Oh! We should invite the others too!”

And like that his whole world came crashing down around him.

“Others..?” He croaked out in disbelief. Th-There's no way… there's no way you could misinterpret that! He had been so forward with you and yet you still thought he was just being friendly?

This couldn’t be happening.

He saw your lips moving but couldn’t hear a word you said. You jumped happily and began walking back to the dorms. He followed you, just barely managing to drag his body along the path, he didn't say another word- Hell! He couldn’t even think. His brain was fried. He felt completely hopeless.

“Well! I better go get some studying done! See you later!” You gave him one last smile and disappeared down the hall. Midoriya crashed down onto the nearest couch. He wanted to scream into the pillows but that was just childish. He opted for shoving his face into the plush cushions instead, once again hiding his shame from the world.

“So… I’m guessing it didn’t go well then..” He heard Iida ask.

He couldn’t even find it in him to lift his face from the pillows as he replied, “I asked if she wanted to go out with me and she said we should invite the others..” his muffled voice came.

“Yikes..” Kaminari muttered.

“Perhaps you should take a break for today? It may not have been as successful as you hoped but you can always try again tomorrow! Don't give up!” Iida cheered.

Midoriya agreed, it was time to call it quits for today. His soul, his pride, his confidence just couldn’t handle another blow like that. He wasn’t even sure he would be recovered by tomorrow. He was starting to doubt that you would ever understand how deep his feelings for you were.

He spent the rest of the evening, studying, training, honestly? Just about anything as long as he could distract himself from reliving the embarrassing memories from today.

Though, no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't let it go. They kept replaying in his mind, he could barely focus on anything. It was driving him crazy! When he was eating dinner it reminded him of the awkward lunch he had with you, and when he went on a jog he was reminded on the walk back from school. The memories were still so vivid in his head and he still strung from the sort-of-rejection.

What if you did know about his feelings for you but were just too nice to reject him? Did you think he couldn’t handle it? Sure, it would hurt, a lot, but he just wanted some answers! He wanted to know if he ever stood a chance to be with you!

He couldn’t take it anymore. In a sudden burst of confidence he marched up to your room before curfew. He couldn’t live with himself if he let this one chance slip away from him, if he let you slip away from him. Even if you didn’t feel the same, he just had to know. This whole song and dance was slowly killing him. He was going to be upfront with you and finally put an end to all of it!

When he was standing outside your door it took him a few seconds to work up the courage to actually knock. Why was he still hesitating? He shook his head, he had to do this. No backing out now!

He knocked and it only took a few seconds for you to open the door. It was getting late and you looked sleepy, you were in comfy clothes, your eyes half lidded as you rubbed at them. He bit his lip, hoping he didn’t wake you up, but this was something that had to be done. He was sure if he left it until tomorrow his confidence would fade and so would his chance to express his feelings.

But seeing how sleepy you looked- It was so cute! Why did your face make his mind go blank? You made him weak at the knees and despite coming here with full confidence it slipped a little when he remembered how beautiful, and way out of his league, you were.

“Midoriya? What are you doing here?” You muttered.

“I need to say something!” He stood tall, his lack of stutter surprised even himself.

“When I asked if you wanted to go out I didn’t mean like a friendly group outing..” This time he was able to stare into your eyes, his gaze unwavering as he spoke. You were suddenly wide awake when you saw how serious he looked “I want to go out with you! But only with you. Because I-”

‘Don’t freeze up now!’ He mentally scolded himself.

“Because I have feelings for you. “ you opened your mouth to reply but he shook his head and spoke up before you could. “More than friends. Actually.. I think I might be in love with you. So please don’t take this the wrong way, because I don’t think i’ll ever have enough courage to confess to you again.” He sent you a lopsided smile.

Your lips parted, your eyes blinking rapidly as you processed the sudden confession. “So when we were walking back to the dorms together you meant, you want to go out, like, on a date?”

He nodded. “Yeah.. like a date.” He watched your head fall into your hands with a groan and he expected the worst for a second. “Oh god! I’m so dumb!” You looked up at him with a bashful grin. “I can’t believe I didn’t catch on! That must’ve been so annoying. I’m sorry!"

“No! Don’t be sorry! I think it worked out for the better anyway. At least I was able to look at you as I confessed this time around. I actually prefer this outcome.” He rubbed the back of his neck. You bit your lip to hide your smile.

He was such a sweetheart.

“So what do you say?”

You let out a small chuckle, your eyes softening at him. “The answer is still yes! I’d love to go out on a date with you.”

The nerves left his body so quickly that it left his head spinning. He let out a big sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure what to say. This was amazing, it was a dream come true! You- you actually said yes?! You want to go on a date with him!? How could this be real? He was so happy, and he was sure the smile on his face told you that much.

“R-really you mean it?! Are you sure?”

You nodded again, letting out a laugh. “I’m very sure! I wish you could’ve given me some signs though! I had no idea you liked me too!”

“....”

“M-..Midoriya… You ok?”