#it's a little dramatic but fuck it we ball. the kid is having a terrible awful no good kinda day

[lexirosewrites]

It's traditional for parents to keep their pup's stuffed animals after they stop using them or decide they don't want them anymore for whatever reason in case they present as an Omega later in life and crave those things for their nest. It's a bit like a hope chest but it's filled with baby blankets, stuffies, and one or two larger blankets for a future nest. If the pup presents as something other than an Omega it's up to them what happens with the trunk since they won't be building nests.

By the 80s it's become normalized for high-bred parents who give birth to a son to collect those things after a certain age and dispose of them as a kind of superstition/way to say, "we know our superior genes will give us a Male Alpha so we can just get rid of all this stuff." Steve's parents are of this variety and take all his nice, soft things away from him when he turns seven. Originally they planned to let him keep everything until he turned ten but they agreed their son was a little too attached to his stuffies and dollies for a future Alpha and took them away early. They tear apart his room, take anything soft and "omegan" out, cover the soft blue walls in wallpaper, and move him to a double bed with starchy cotton sheets.

Steve hates it. He hates the feeling of rough cotton on his skin, the stiff blue jeans his mom makes him wear, and the scratchy, too-tight polos. Every now and then, he sneaks a softer shirt into the fold, and those become his favorites. He feels wrong and it makes him quick to temper and roo wrung out for school.

When he presents as an Omega at 17 he has a terrible false heat that lasts for five days. First heats usually only last a day or two and aren't full blown, but Omegas also usually have their packs present and ready to supply them with their chests and make them feel comfortable and safe. It's usually a time when packs bond as they teach the Omega how to build their first nest. Robin comes early on day three after not hearing from Steve for 48 hours and helps him through the rest. She rushes home and takes a blanket out of her own nest and a couple others from the living room and helps Steve build a nest to his own liking and helps him eat and drink.

Afterward, Robin tries to insist that he take more from her nest but he refuses because he knows how important those things are to settling an Omega and Robin is a ball of nerves as is. She relents but makes him keep the blanket and comes by at least once a week to roll around in his blankets to keep her scent fresh.

Once the kids start handing out with Eddie in their freshman year, the Alpha takes advantage of his new proximity to Steve to finally pursue him. He's been half in love with Steve since before he even presented as an Omega and has just been waiting for an in that didn't make him look like every other desperate Alpha chasing his tail. The guys all say he has no chance and he's going to make a fool of himself and to be fair, he kind of does. He amps up the dramatics and makes a fool out of himself on the daily, showering Steve with praise and admiration every time they meet and it isn't long before Steve is falling for this goofy, kind Alpha who makes him laugh.

When Steve invites Eddie to see his nest for the first time, Eddie is heartbroken at the lack of Steve's presence in his own nest. He has the blanket from Robin and a couple he bought after he presented but that's about it. Steve explains what his parents did and Eddie is so fucking mad and tells Steve so, but he lets his Omega pull him into the barren nest and scent him until they fall asleep.

Eddie wakes up early the next morning and sneaks out of bed and heads for the trailer. When he gets back to the Harrington house Steve is still asleep, so Eddie wakes him up with soft touches and light kisses all over his cheeks.

Eddie presented early due to stress at the age of 12 right before he moved in with Wayne. It's what ultimately got him removed from his Father's care. But the one thing Al Munson never got to touch was Eddie's presentation chest, which his mom had made sure to stash with Wayne before she died. When Wayne reunited him with his chest that first day at the trailer, he made sure to tell Eddie that he wouldn't think less of him, think him any less of an Alpha, if he decided to keep it, and so he did.

Eddie tells him that he knows it's not the same, but if Steve would like to have the contents of his presentation chest then Eddie would be more than happy to give it to him. Steve gladly accepts, crying tears of love into his Alpha's neck.

They spend the rest of the morning rearranging Steve's nest to include Eddie's favorite childhood toys and blankets, both of them relishing in the scent of home.

stopppp this is too sweet🥺😭

[lctibule]

ㅤstumbling to an uncertain halt when his maps app tells him through his earbud "you have arrived at your destination," si-u is grumbling under his breath in frustration. nothing about today has gone right; entire foot soaked and freezing after stepping in a deep puddle while crossing the street, he's in a part of the city he's never been to before that's nerve-wrackingly far from all of his usual routes, and now, on top of all of that, he has to find byan's friend and tell her that they can't make it. a friend he's never met, whose voice he's never heard, who he has no idea how he's supposed to find.

he feels like he's about ready to cry, he's so uncomfortable and tired and anxious.

moving his cane back and forth across the sidewalk, feeling out for a bench or anywhere that he might be able to sit down for a few minutes, the boy only comes to a pause when he hears movement. —maybe she's already here?

ㅤㅤ" ...excuse me, "ㅤthe prompt is hesitant, spoken in the voice of a kid who's very nearly at the end of his rope but trying to conceal the fact. this is the last thing he has to do, then he can go back to the group home and shut down.ㅤ" s-sorry, uhm. i'm looking for... marg? is that— ...is she here, by any chance? "

☾ㅤㅤ@smilingmxsk ㅤㅤㅤ//ㅤㅤㅤlowkey starter call.

[prolix-yuy]

I SPINNED THE WHEEL AND GOT HONEY BEAR AND I DONT KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS BUT IM EXCITED (I'm not gonna google it to keep the surprise factor lamdovdf) the position name made me instantly think of Dieter so I'll go with him <33

this is just so much fun thank you for the sleepover bby!! ILY

Sil, I would be honored to Honey Bear you! And Dieter is exactly the man I want to get down with, especially in this position!

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Position: Honey Bear

Word Count: 1084

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral sex (m receiving), ass play, sexy wrestling, Dieter and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

Notes: I wanted to do another funny-sweet one, and Dieter is just perfect for it. Plus if I was having a bad a day, I would also appreciate being pampered like this ;)

He’s been a little ball of frustration all day today, and enough is enough.

You try not to be too hard on him. His agent interrupted Saturday morning TV with news that he wasn’t getting the part he’d be practicing for. “They wanted someone younger, to appeal to the newer audiences.” He sulked through the next two episodes.

Then his sister called, and he retreated into the bedroom. His voice still carried through the closed door, switching back and forth angrily from Spanish to English. He stomped back to the couch and doomscrolled for two hours, his brows pulled together in a dark scowl. 

His final straw came when you heard him groaning, “You have GOT to be kidding me!” Venturing into the kitchen, cautious of the sourness of his day, you find him tapping his phone with increasing annoyance.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, moving to lean beside him. His whole frame is tight, frustration directed at the world around him wafting off in heady waves. 

“If I’m too fucking old and too fucking lazy to get anything I want, then fuck it, I’m going to order a pizza and not give a shit about the diet. But the fucking delivery app keeps crashing and I just would like one goddamn thing to work today!” He shoves his phone across the counter, your hand stopping it from skittering off the edge to add to his annoyance. 

“How about you go take a shower and we lay down for a little while?” you ask, lightly stroking Dieter’s back. He takes in a deep breath and whooshes it out, scrubbing at his face. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just been a shitty day,” he says, letting you tug him towards the master suite. 

“Everything gets better once you’re in bed,” you say, leading him to the shower. He groans quietly.

“Baby, I’m not really in the right headspace for that.” You cup his cheeks and rest his forehead against yours, tapping the tips of your noses together. 

“That’s not what I mean. We’ll cuddle up and put on a movie and when we get hungry I’ll make something. But right now, you’re gonna try and relax.” Switching on the shower, you usher him in and close the door behind him. He looks through the glass at you in the perfect imitation of a Sarah McLachlan dog shelter commercial, and you draw a little heart in the steam.

Giving him a few minutes to decompress, you turn down the fluffy bedspread and change out of your day clothes. Shuffling around in your drawers, you find the perfect outfit to don before Dieter steps out damp and loose. The towel wrapped around his waist lets you admire his soft broad body, dimples and divots you love mapping with your mouth. He’s slicked his hair back but a few errant curls poke out. 

“That was needed, thank you,” he says, pulling out some neon green boxer briefs and tugging them on. They make his butt look absolutely adorable, and his bulge sizeable. You really should get him more of those. As he approaches, a smile begins working its way across his face.

“What are you wearing?” he asks, kneeling on the edge of the bed as you pose dramatically in the pillows.

“Why Mr Bravo, don’t you recognize the white elephant gift of last Christmas Eve?” Draped over your body is a white T-shirt with a badly rendered line drawing of sexy lingerie where it would fall on your silhouette. You’d won it at a party, and the terrible quality matched with the hilarious design made you keep it in the back of your drawer. 

“I thought we ruined that,” he says, crawling up the bed to hover over you. The weight of the day is smoothing from his face, fingers curling around the hem of the shirt. “You’ve got much better underwear than this.” 

“Dieter, don’t you dare take off the Seduction Shirt!” you crow, squirming below him as he redoubles his efforts to get the hideous shirt off. You nip at his biceps, digging your fingers into his sides to tickle yourself free. He tries to keep up, chasing after your crawling form and yanking you back into his embrace. 

He gets it halfway up your stomach when you manage to roll you both, pinning him on his back with his knees folded over your shoulders. He’s full on laughing now, cheeks a ruddy red and coughing with exertion. You let him catch his breath until he looks down up at you, a warm smile across his face. Pushing his thighs up to his chest, he takes in a small gasp, pupils blow out and hands clenching. Gaze drifting down, you find him hard and twitching in his boxers, your tits pressing softly. Cautiously, you stroke your palm up his length. He throws his head back, stomach tensing.

“Do you want…”

“Please.”

You’re stripping his boxers off in record time, sliding down so you can take him into your mouth in one quick slide. He chokes, hips bucking as your practiced touch massages behind his balls. Keening and hissing, you set a fast pace to topple him into pleasure quickly, adding two fingers pressing firmly at his hole. He’s babbling as your lips slide up and down his shaft, sucking hard and swallowing around the thick intrusion. 

“Oh fuck, baby, I’m…” he begs, and pride swells when he cums down your throat not two minutes after you began. You love knowing exactly what makes Dieter explode, and how quickly you can achieve it. Easing him down, you climb up to snuggle into his open arms. 

“Don’t know why I said I wasn’t in the headspace, I’m always in the right mind for you,” Dieter says softly, lips dragging over your temple. You smirk into his chest.

“It’s the Seduction Shirt, works every time.”

Quicker than you expect he rolls you, pinning your hips and ripping the shirt over your head to discard in a corner of the room. 

“There, no advantage now,” he snarks, rubbing his scruffy face into your neck. Fighting against the ticklish touch, you koala bear around him and pull him down to entwine.

“So if anything happens now, it’s all thanks to my own sex appeal?” you ask with faux curiosity. Dieter pops his head out to bathe you in warmth you’ll never get enough of.

“Damn right.”

END

LJ’s Bangathon 2023

[eddies-artofsuffering]

02:17am, August 18, 1984 (Santa Monica - California)

An agitated voice, and a tap on his shoulder. “Eddie, Max. Wake up. We have to go.”

Eddie peeps an eye open. It hasn’t been long since he fell asleep, he can tell from the way his body aches for more sleep. It’s still dark outside, and he can barely see the raindrops trickling down the window. The air conditioner hums faintly over the bustling noise of his parents rifling through the room. In the bed next to his, Max stirs and rubs her eyes with a soft what the hell, her long red hair strewn all over the pillow.

“Come on, kids, up, up! We have no time,” Susan taps them harder. “Can’t afford to dilly-dally.”

Fucking hell. Eddie scoffs a little under his breath – Susan never used the word dilly-dally unironically. It’s kind of funny. But the electronic clock on the side table says 2:17, truly an ass-o’clock. Eddie scowls.

“I thought the checkout isn’t until 11?”

“We are leaving right now,” George orders as he frantically shoves various items in his suitcase, chips and hundred-dollar bills flying around. His voice is gruff. “Pack your things.”

“Never bothered to unpack,” Eddie mumbles. A force of habit, really. He gets out of bed at last, groggy and tired from swimming and surfing the day before. Now that he’s more awake, he realizes that he really needs to take a leak.

“What part of right now don’t you understand?!” George bellows, making Eddie flinch.

“Jeez, dad, I’ve already packed! I just have to use the bathroom and we’re out of here, okay?! God-“

He’s shoved against the nearest wall by the collar before he registers that he’s made the mistake of talking back.

“I will only say this one more time,” George snarls, and there’s a dangerous twist on his lips that almost looks like a smile. “If we’re not out of here within the minute, this is it for us. We might actually not make it this time.”

Eddie has to bite down the urge to roll his eyes. He always pulls this dramatic shit like it’s the end of the fucking world if Eddie doesn’t listen, like something terrible might just happen if he doesn’t obey. He’s never dared to find out what the consequences might be.

“Yea, okay,” he chokes.

“Yes, sir,” George beckons. Honestly, didn’t he just say they are in a hurry? Jesus. But it’s not worth the trouble, not at a moment like this, so Eddie does answer him, “Yes, sir,” and massages his neck when George lets him go. Fuck.

“Maxine, get dressed,” Susan says without glancing, busy collecting whatever shit that’s scattered around the hotel room. “You heard your father. We’re leaving in a minute, and I really do mean a minute.”

He’s not my father, Max mutters under her breath, only loud enough that Eddie can hear, but the fact that she didn’t accost her for saying her full name instead of Max is telling, her movement swift as she takes a few items of clothing and goes into the bathroom to change.

Damn it. Now Eddie’s gotta wait until she comes out to use the goddamn bathroom.

He looks around the room to see if there’s anything else he needs to grab before going, although he knows already that he can absolutely just walk out the door right now. He's been ready. He’s always ready to leave anywhere, anytime. That’s the way he’s always lived. That his family’s always lived, always ready to disappear at a moment’s notice if the situation requires it.

Once Max exits and Eddie relieves himself at last, their parents are already at the door, peeking out to observe the hallway. Eddie spots a stray ball of cash at the foot of the bed and pockets it hurriedly, and joins Max to stand behind George and Susan.

“Why do we have to sneak out? Again?” Max asks.

“It’s clear,” George says, as if that answers her question. He pokes his head out the door and looks both ways like he’s about to cross the goddamn street, and runs to the elevator. The little screen on top lights up from the tenth floor with an upward arrow, but the number doesn't increase for quite some time.

“It’s not gonna be here any quicker, you know,” Eddie comments as George presses the down button repeatedly. There’s a crazed look on his father’s face. Eddie knows that George is now in a state in which he cannot really hear shit.

This isn’t anything new. Eddie was 10 when he learns what ‘gambling’ means. It’s some kind of game, his parents had told him, a game from which they can make money. A lot of money and, as Eddie would discover later, a shit ton of debt. For the last few years, they’ve even been pursued by people - scary kinds - who really want their money back, who’d do just about anything to get it back. And today, of all the goddamn days of the year, had to be one of those days. The run days. And to think that he’d spend another leisurely day at the beach for a change…

“If we’re sneaking out, shouldn’t we take the stairs or something?” Max suggests, and for a moment Eddie thinks that it’s a futile thing to ask shit like that at a time like this, and going down eighteen stories by the stairs doesn't sound all that fun, what with all the shit they're carrying. But Susan somehow picks it up and nods, grabbing George by his sleeve and hightails towards the exit that leads to the stairs. Eddie follows, tightening the strap of his overnight bag on his shoulder. Behind him, the elevator finally opens with a faint ding.

Then. A strange man’s voice. “Take another step, Munson, and see what happens,” and George freezes on the spot, his hand on the doorknob. Eddie turns around to see not one but two men in Hawaiian shirts and shorts, looking so casual and easy and nothing out of the ordinary, except they’re pointing guns at his family as if they’re holding out champagne glasses to toast. Instinctively, Susan and Eddie step in front of a trembling Max, whose grip on Eddie’s strap is tight enough for him to feel.

“You wouldn’t,” George breathes, and it sounds like a plea.

“Shut the fuck up, man, I’m so fucking tired of playing tag all over the goddamn state,” the man growls. “Never thought I’d find you here, though. Santa Monica? That’s high profile, Munson. It’s like you were asking to be found.”

“Please, it’s our son’s birthday,” Susan says weakly.

“Oh, shit, is it?!” The second man chuckles, breaking into a wide grin. It almost looks genuine when he says, “holy shit, that him right there? How old are you, kid? You don’t look a day over 16, sweetheart.”

“I’m 18, asshole,” Eddie spits, almost regretting it when George shoots him daggers.

“Aww, happy birthday, kid!” He rests a gunless hand over his heart. “Now you can join your parents to play, huh? Am I dreaming or are those bags full of cash? Hope you were about to deliver them yourself. You’re so behind it’s not even funny.”

“Take – take them all,” Susan offers, lowering the bags and suitcases in her hands. “Please. Our children –”

The man on the left shakes his head in annoyance. “Yea, yea, spare us. How much you got?”

“It��s enough,” George tells them, at the same time that Susan says, “fifty thousand, as we promised.”

Eddie’s jaw drops. What the fucking fuck. He knew that his parents were in trouble, that they were in debt, but -

“Yea, you see, I don’t think that was the deal. There’s this thing called, uh, interest?” The first man smirks. “You owe us at least a hundred k, my friends. Time to cough up.”

“And you’ll get it!“ George snaps. “Just give us some time – we’ll make it up, alright?”

“No, no, it’s all here, actually, we can – Eddie, honey, give them your bag,” Susan says, brushing Max’s hand away from Eddie's strap and taking the bag off his shoulder. Max recoils, grabbing onto Eddie’s arm instead.

“What – what are you doing? That’s my –“ Eddie starts to protest, but immediately clamps down when he sees the desperate look in Susan’s eyes. Just play along.

“So, including this one, it’s a hundred?” The man on the right asks, checking the weight of Eddie’s bag. “Mind if we count?”

The men withdraw the guns and deposit them behind their backs, leaning forward to open the zipper.

As Eddie holds his breath – it’s only a matter of time until they find out that his bag is full of junk – George springs towards the men with an animalistic howl, knocking both of them to the ground.

For a cruel second, Eddie almost thinks that they might have hope. That they might be able to get out of this. Maybe recall in the distant future as they sit around, celebrating another birthday of his, maybe over a drink or two, saying, remember that time we almost died in that casino hotel? To health and longevity!

Instead, he stands there, paralyzed, as the men get back on their feet to swing at George and restrain his arms. Really, it’s like in the movies, when everything slows down, and time slows down – or is it more like in a dream? – watching Susan surging forward to go after George. The only thing that grounds him to reality is Max’s death grip on his biceps.

For the mystery men – probably some kind of loan sharks, as Eddie’s rational mind supplies somewhere far in the back – time isn’t at all moving in slow motion. They are quick to get the guns back in their hands, one pointing at George and the other at Susan.

“Open them,” one of the men tells George as he pushes him towards the elevator.

With shaking hands, George opens one of the suitcases, the one that the entire family knows is the one that contains cash, and the men nod in satisfaction. Fuck, that is a lot of money -

“And the other one?”

“Please, just let him go,” Susan sobs as George takes a deep breath to unzip Eddie’s bag. Even from afar, Eddie can see the little glimpses of his cassette tapes and clothes between the zippers.

The two men look at each other, raising brows, then back at George. “Hmm. Seems like you still owe us a fuck ton.”

“Just give us some time-“

“Hey, hey, keep it down, will ya? You’re gonna wake everyone up.”

They press the down button of the elevator, which opens at once, like had been waiting for this moment all along. The men shove George inside with the cash bag.

“No, please!” Susan sobs, inching towards the elevator despite being within point-blank range.

“No, Suzie – go! Take the kids!” George’s yelp is muffled as the elevator closes, the sound of commotion escaping between the door.

“Let’s go, we have to go get him,” Susan whispers, and Eddie doesn’t know how the hell her legs are still functional, how she’s still able to run like that as she sprints towards where her children are. If she could do this, he should be able to - Eddie tries to snap out of it and follows Susan to the stairs, taking Max by her hand.

Somewhere not too close and not too far, there is a resounding crack, suspiciously like a gunshot. Eddie gasps, but he doesn’t look back, his body now on autopilot as he jumps two steps down at a time. He barely feels Max’s hand slipping away from his.

continue reading on ao3

[callsignspark]

jordan! thank you for your kind words 💕he government names her!! which we know he rarely does, so it has to be important! everyone say thank you to Bob for being the only one with a fully functioning brain. (he's so done with Bradley he even swore, which Bob doesn't do often!) poor thing, he's starting to think the pink couch is cursed. it's not, he's just a lil dumb. I wanted to make their conversation very clear and both of them understand why everything happened the way it did. which perfectly lead to us getting to see the pining and yearning and all the cute things from his perspective! they will have dinner together post-deployment! (it's just not exactly what they were planning).

oh bubs!!! definitely need to know more about those wonderful dreams tho 👀 - the dreams were equally sweet and horny (maybe I'll have to write a small blurb about that 👀)

lol tbh i’m shocked bradley even kept the bracelet on - he was threatened by Nat with physical violence if he took it off so he didn't lmao

he’s so fucking dramatic i love his old man ass - literally the grumpiest old man. like he's 37 and pouting at the table like a kid.

this is such a fun little detail! nat def falls for all those instagram restaurants and bars - LMAO she definitely does! she is no longer allowed to pick group outing places unless someone else reviews the location first (her choice is almost never approved)

hmmm and was the ‘something’ miss flora phillips perhaps?? - mayhaps. mayhaps not. yes.

jealous bradley 👀 it’s fun to see him jealous of harvard! i know we’ve talked about this, but i like how it’s harvard? and that harvard seems pretty close with bradley? it’s not a friendship pairing you see often? also i love the ref dress you picked for mary!! i just know it looks stunning on her! also i like that it’s green ☺️ reminds me of bradley in some way - him being jealous of Harvard is soooo funny to me because Brigham is literally a golden retriever of a person. like he's smart and intelligent (he's a navy pilot!) but there's also elevator music playing in that big head of his! when Bradley is not being a jealous dork he and Harvard are close friends! (it's not a frequent friendship pairing! the secondary Daggers need more love!) earlier this week I joked that Bradley and Mary adopt Bob as their little brother and Jake as their problem child. Brigham is also adopted, but he's more of the protective brother-in-law who is like "I'll kill you if you hurt her" to Bradley who is just like "Mary, make him stop" #goodbroBrighamLennox

this is so cute!!! - this man gets a nibble of attention from her and his heart starts pounding

i also like that it was neil that spoke up! it shows she has all the guys on her side and is friends with all of them? i like that it’s not just bradley? (reuben goes without saying obvi!!!) - I loved this too! the extended Dagger Family is very close so any threat against any of them gets everyone in a tizzy. sleazy asshole should just be thankful that Nat and Callie weren't there or he would be going home without his balls! (also please picture Bradley, Bob, Brigham, Javy, Mickey, Omaha, Billy and Aaron (Billy's husband who is not a pilot but also enormous) ready to jump across the table to defend Mary. how this jerk thought he had a chance is hilarious)

lil big wig smarty pants up here!! - she really is that. bitch. and we'll get to see her in action in a few chapters!!

WHO IS THE FIRST!?! IS IT HIS DAD?? (RE MAVERICK?) - Maverick? the useless walnut who took 30+ years to get together with his wife?

THIS IS SO CHEEKY AND CUTE OH MY GOD!! - Mary had two (2) drinks the entire night and she's wiggling her hips on the dance floor trying to entice him to join her (she didn't have to try at all but she doesn't know that)

oh hell no uh uh - the way this chapter was originally in Mary's POV and we got to hear all the terrible things he said before Bradley showed up. good thing Mr. Bradshaw didn't hear everything else that was said.

oh you stupid boy 🤦🏼‍♀️ i liked the bit you added about the bouncers worried mary was leaving with bradley and wanted to make sure everything was right!? irl not too common 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️ - the caveman instincts took over. idiot <3 (the bouncers saw one woman caught between two assholes and went "hmmm.. maybe we should double check on this one before we kick her to the curb." they are the silver medal mvps of this chapter.)

lol that’s an order tyvm!!! - she is pissed, ain't no one arguing with her tonight!

honestly yes! call him out! she tried to tell him at the super bowl party and he didn’t want to hear it and unarguably made it worse and then he has the audacity to be olivia rodrigo jealously jealousy all night!? uh uh - up until the part she was happily ready to accept all the blame (as she should) and then he acted like an idiot (TWICE!) and she's sick of it. so she's laying everything out (assisted by the courage of that tequila shot she took)

and i LOVED this part!!! i liked how clearly she spelled this out for him and how they’re going to have a real conversation about it? so many times that just gets glossed over in fics, so i’m really looking forward to it! - yes! sometimes important conversations are completely glossed over (or not even mentioned!) and I really want to show the uglier, not as fun parts of a relationship!

oh my gosh thank you for giving this to us from his side! i love his question of not being sure why she’s surprised? // i know i’ve mentioned it before but i love how sheepish and he was in that scene (but in hindsight mayhaps a little too shy…) // screaming about it - I always wanted to give his side at some point and I finally found the perfect place to do it!! him being confused as to why she's shocked is so funny to me bc his brain is like "I saw the outline of your nipples at 8AM and I've been fighting an erection every since." his is a tiny bit shy, mostly because he wasn't really planning to blurt all that information out but the words just kinda escaped! he was ready to get things moving!! (still made at Reuben btw)

i really like how you handled this and had her clarify it was built up in her head? that the original issue and freezing out wasn’t his fault (it wasn’t until after the super bowl party that is was his fault 🤦🏼‍♀️) - it was hard for her to admit that this whole thing is because of her insecurities. that was a lot of vulnerability for her. but she knew she needed to say it and she was able to!

ummm girliepop he’ll be so distraught if you do so best not!! - I didn't show it but he's literally scheming ways to get that sweatshirt back still smelling like her.

he thinks about it all the time - all. the. time. (very delicate - taylor swift of him)

AHHHHH THIS IS SO PERFECT ‘if you’ll have me’ you can have me any way you want me!! - "if you'll have me" like he's a victorian suitor!!!

oh sweet girl!! (and also sweet boy he’s been gone for her for 13 months 🤭) - is her obliviousness based on my own obliviousness where it took me four (4) years to realize a guy was flirting with me? maybe. lemme know if y'all wanna hear that story. (he's been sweet on her the entire time!!)

GOVERNMENT NAME!!! GOVERNMENT NAME!!! HE WANTS HER SO BAD (but seriously i’m so excited for their sunday night date!! the anticipation is gonna kill both of them!!) - the government name shall appear a few more times!!! (it's very exciting when it comes out!!) and only 85 days and counting for them until their dinner date!!!!

him being nervous about sharing the bed with her because of how his body might reaction like he wasn’t just on her couch a month ago hard as a rock 👀 like bradley i Get You, but also sleep in the damn bed!! - Bradley you literally admitted to thinking about almost having sex with her like two paragraphs ago, get in the fucking bed.

a woman after my own heart. yeah no fucking way you’re getting on my couch let alone my BED in outside clothes???? hell no, strip fly boy!! - is he gonna be thinking about how she told him to strip while he's on the carrier? oh yeah.

i liked that he asked and i liked that she gave him an honest answer? and then this was perfect too!! ugh i want them to snuggle up in bed tonight - now that they've talked about being honest that's what they're going to do their best to be. (and what if I told you we'll get to see them in the morning aftermath of this night???)

Mar[r]y Me - part six

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food.

series warnings: 18+ minors DNI, discussion of insecurities, difficult family relationships, discussions of food and alcohol use, discussions of body image, one (1) drunk asshole, conversations on what it’s like to be a fat woman trying to date in today’s society, warnings to be added as needed

word count: 5.9k

previous part | series masterlist | main masterlist

note: happy Friday!! it's August here in the real world but it's Valentine's Day in the Mar[r]y Me universe, so what will these two do surrounded by love and pink hearts? can't wait to hear everyone's thoughts!

part six - pancakes

God, I made a mistake.

Bradley has suffered through five days of the same thought on a constant loop. His brain started up the second he walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Only getting short reprieves when he had to fly. Even being asleep wasn’t safe; Mary had been consuming his nights, wonderful dreams of being with her intermixed with bad dreams of having to watch her with another man.

He felt like he was living one of those nightmares for the last three songs, watching Mary dance and giggle with some guy in his twenties.

I should be the one making her laugh. My hands should be on her hips, not his.

He cursed Natasha for dragging them to this stupid Valentine’s Day speed-dating event. Except, the speed dating isn’t actually speed dating; it’s some sort of convoluted speed dancing.

As announced by the host, there are only two rules:

Every person must wear the wristband they received upon entry; the wristbands correspond to your relationship status, so respect the color code system.

If you’re dancing, you have to dance with a new person for each song.

“Unless you’re really hitting it off with your dance partner.” DJ Socket had added with a wink before starting the night off with a horrible remixed version of My Funny Valentine.

Natasha, Callie, and Mary had laughed at the bad song choice before throwing back a shot of tequila and shimmying their way to the dance floor, pink wristbands glowing under the disco ball.

According to the event flyer that had been spammed in the group chat for the last two weeks, a pink wristband meant single and ready to mingle.

Bradley watches as the infant with a bad haircut tries to hit on Mary to what he thinks is a Justin Bieber song, absentmindedly playing with his own wristband. White. Here for fun, not to flirt.

He’s having a terrible time.

“Rooster. Rooster? Bradley!”

The use of his real name snaps him out of his thoughts. “Sorry, Bob, what was that?”

“I asked if you were okay. You don’t look great.”

He feels his heart clench a little bit. He’s always had a soft spot for the bespectacled man, Bob paying attention to small things that others rarely caught. Though even a blind person could see the way Bradley is staring at Mary, the pining radiating beyond the two high-top tables the Daggers had claimed as theirs.

“Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long week.”

Bob raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth, but Harvard interrupts him before he can investigate further.

“It’s weird seeing the girls in dresses instead of their coveralls.”

“I’m just wondering how they convinced Callie to wear heels. Omaha practically had to bribe her to wear something other than her Vans to our wedding.” Fritz says, his red wristband - taken and in love - flashing when he takes a sip of his bright pink drink. “God, these drink specials are awful! This is the last time Phoenix gets to choose where we go.”

The boys laugh as his face twists in disgust. Natasha is great at many things, choosing a good bar is not one of them.

“We should have let Jake plan; he found that complex with the mini golf and everything. That was so much fun!” Aaron adds before turning to Javy. “Where is Jake? I thought he was coming.”

Javy shrugs. “He was supposed to be here, but he texted me and said he wasn’t going to make it. Something came up, apparently. He said everything was fine, so I’ll check on him tomorrow. Make sure he’s all good.”

“Mary looks really good.”

Bradley stiffens, his mood dropping from happy back down to pissed off as steam pours out of his ears. She doesn’t just look good. She looks amazing. The light green, satiny material of her dress is hugging her figure just right, showing off her curves in the most delicious way. The slit up her leg showing off the thighs he dreams about getting his hands on again.

She looks gorgeous.

But Harvard doesn’t get to say that about his girl.

She’s not your girl. You fucked up.

“There she is! Can I get you a drink, ma’am?” Harvard stands up, holding his bar stool steady while Mary climbs on, scooting it in when she’s settled.

“If you’re going up, I’ll take a water, please.” She smiles at him, cheeks flushed from dancing.

“You want anything stronger to go with that water?”

“Vodka sprite, if it’s not too much of a bother.”

“You got it, sweetheart; anything for my new backseater!” Harvard flashes his toothpaste commercial-ready smile at her before making his way through the crowd to the bar. Him and his pink wristband quickly getting lost in the masses.

“I missed something. Backseater?” Javy asks.

Bradley watches her laugh and lean on the table, grabbing a chip after Aaron pushes the basket toward her. “He’s just trying to be funny. We’re both headed up to Lemoore next week - I’m helping out on some repairs, and he’s doing some sort of mentor program? I don’t know exactly. Anyway, Cyclone suggested we drive together since we’re staying at the same hotel. I told Brigham he’s driving since he insisted on getting this godawful 30-foot pickup truck, which makes me his temporary backseater.”

“Make sure you don’t eat anything before riding with him, or you’ll paint the windshield.” Omaha jokes.

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Please. If I didn’t hurl after a greenhorn took me up and executed one very poor barrel roll before getting himself grounded, I think I can handle Harvard’s driving.”

“You’ve flown?”

“Was it an FA-18?”

“How do you fuck up a barrel roll?”

“Did you like it?”

Questions are hurled at her from every direction, all the boys interested in the fact that their favorite mechanic had been airborne in the backseat of a fighter jet before they knew her.

“I did like it!”

Bradley’s heart warms a bit when she answers his question first.

“It was an FA-18, and I think we technically hit Mach-1, but my brain has burned the trauma of that hop from my memory. It was fun until that bad maneuver because when I say greenhorn, I mean green. Like as fresh as you can possibly be.” She shutters, only partially joking. “But I didn’t throw up, and that’s a major point of pride for me.”

“It’s only because you hadn’t eaten yet that day.”

The warmth disappears, again, when she smacks Brigham’s arm after he puts her drinks down. “I told you that in confidence! And I think it still counts because I’m a civilian and have done none of the training you guys do.”

“How did you even get permission to fly?” Javy questions, stealing a sip of her water, grinning at her when she glares.

“When I was in Florida, I got close with some of the higher-ups, and one of them arranged for me to go on a simple flight so I could see what it’s like. It was really sweet of him!”

“Who did you sweet talk into getting in a jet?”

“He sweet-talked me! Actually, it was more like he manipulated me. It came up that I’d never been on a flight - which is totally normal for an engineer, by the way - and he egged me on until I agreed to go up.”

“Oh my god, you got suckered into a ride with a flight school newbie? Who managed that?”

“I don’t know if you guys know him. I don’t think he was in Pensacola when you were going through flight school, but it was Admiral-”

“Hey, baby, wanna dance?”

Her face changes immediately, annoyance spreading quickly. “No. I’ve already told you I don’t. Leave me alone.”

“Oh, c’mon, you know you want this-”

“The lady told you no. I suggest you listen to her before we make you listen.” Omaha threatens from his position across the table. Bradley is happy that Neil spoke up before him because he wouldn’t have been so nice about it.

The pushy asshole looks around the table and decides not to press his luck after seeing eight men puffed up, ready to defend their friend.

“What a dick! He had a red wristband on, and he still tried to hit on you!”

“Welcome to being a woman, Mickey. Doesn’t matter if you’ve told them no or if they have a partner. Men will be gross and overbearing if they think it’ll benefit them.”

She sinks back in her chair, sipping her drink and sending a small smile to the boys in thanks. The group disburses a bit, most joining Nat and Callie on the dance floor, leaving Mary sitting with Fritz, Bradley, and Bob.

“Hey, speaking of gross and overbearing, did you hear the rumor that Admiral Cain is coming to the program review next week?”

It perks her back up; she excitedly leans forward, happy to talk about something else.

“Oh! That’s not a rumor, Fritz. That’s 100% true. He’ll be presenting his case for increasing unmanned drone research. But he’s going first on Tuesday, and then he’s back in Washington that same afternoon, so thankfully, we’ll only have to deal with him for a few hours.”

“Thank god, I had to deal with him for a little bit when I was at Norfolk, and he was worst. I know drones are getting more popular for high-risk missions, but they’ll never be able to fully replace pilots.” Billy clinks his bottle against Mary’s glass when she holds it up, swallowing the last of his beer. “You’ll have to excuse me; it looks like my husband wants me to dance with him.”

Bradley watches Mary stare longingly at the dance floor, her eyes following the happy couple dance in perfect sync with each other.

If you hadn’t messed up, that could be the two of you out there.

“So, what parts of program review do you have to sit in on?”

Mary turns, a soft smile on her face - Bradley knows her soft spot for Bob matches his own. Both of them protective over the younger man who cares so much, yet so quietly.

“I have to be there for almost all of it. I’m presenting a few sections, plus I have to do a shop tour and demo, which will be uber fun.” She rolls her eyes, knowing how some admirals like to knit-pick at how a shop is run and organized. “All my free time this week will be finishing my slides and polishing my presentation.”

“Wow, on top of helping with Lemoore’s repairs? You’re gonna be busy these next two weeks.”

“Very busy, but we’ve already done the repairs I’m helping with down here, so theirs should go much smoother! But I'm genuinely excited for program review because I’ll get to see some people I worked with in Florida! I think I’m going to try and poach a few of them that I really miss.”

“You’re gonna steal your friends to work for you?” Bradley regrets the question when he sees her face falter for a split second, realizing his tone wasn’t as joking as intended.

“Yeah, I’m thinking about it. They’re really smart and talented, plus it’d be nice to work with them again.”

The relief that breezes through his chest at her grin and kind tone quickly disappears when Harvard pops up and pulls her toward the dance floor.

“Hang- hang on!” She giggles, turning to Bob. “Would you mind keeping an eye on my purse while Brigham steps on my toes to bad 90s love songs?”

Bob’s, “No problem.” overpowers Harvard’s protests of, “I’m not gonna step on your foot again!”

She pecks his cheek, leaving a faint pink stain behind as she follows the Ohio man onto the dance floor. And for several songs, Bradley's stomach twists as he watches his two friends dance pressed close together.

“Why don’t you go dance with her?”

“She doesn’t want to dance with me.”

Bob scoffs. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Bradley, what happened with you two?”

He doesn’t answer; just keeps fiddling with the label on his beer and watching the dance floor. The two sit in uncomfortable silence for the first time in their friendship.

“I fucked up.” He confesses everything to Bob. The night on her couch, their interruption, the tiff just a few days ago. He doesn’t spare any detail, no feelings. “I still don’t know why I didn’t just let her explain! Even if I was mad that she was ignoring me, she had her reasons - she wouldn’t do something like that for no reason!”

Bob is stunned. He doesn’t know what to say to comfort his friend. None of the group’s theories had even been close to the reality of what happened.

“You can’t tell anyone what I just told you, not even Natasha!” Bradley is borderline frantic. “You’re the second person I’ve told, and I don’t know if Mary has told anyone, but I don’t want everyone knowing. I don’t want what happened to be the talk of the group.”

“I won’t tell anyone, Bradley. Not even Nat. But I do get bragging rights when the two of you finally get together.”

“That’s not gonna happen. I messed up too much, man.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

He looks where Bob is pointing, watching as Harvard twirls away with a pretty redhead, leaving Mary dancing by herself. They make eye contact, and he can see the gears in her brain working. She turns around, hips swinging hypnotically, and he loses his breath when she peeks over her shoulder at him. Bradley’s heart soars when she wiggles a finger at him.

She’s calling me over. Maybe I didn’t totally fuck this up.

His joy is short-lived. The same red wristband asshole as before getting in her space, trying to grab her ass as she pushes him away. Bradley practically falls out of his chair to get to her.

“Get away from me!” Mary pushes the stranger’s hands off and stumbles back from the force, colliding with Bradley’s chest as he comes to help.

He steps forward, angling his body to shield her as she tucks herself into his side. “She’s told you to leave her alone at least twice now. Walk away before we have a problem.”

The sleazy man rolls his eyes, “Whatever, man.”

“No, not “whatever,” man.” Bradley steps forward, disregarding Mary tugging on his arm. Her pleas for him to stop falling on deaf ears. “You’re going to apologize to her.”

“For what? The fat bitch probably liked it. She’s practically begging for it in that dress.”

Bradley doesn’t even think. He lunges, ignoring Mary’s yell for him to stop and taking the asshole down with one punch. He doesn’t get a second one, security interfering and escorting all three out.

The rest of the Daggers make their way outside, everyone awkwardly huddled together as Mary assures the bouncers that she is safe to leave with Bradley, that he’s her friend who was just protecting her from the other man’s unwanted advances.

She’s mad when she joins them. A quiet anger that's palpable, making them all stay quiet instead of joking around like usual.

“Thanks for planning this, Nat. It was really fun until about five minutes ago. I’ll text you about dinner.” She says to the girls, giving Bob a small smile when he hands over her clutch. “Bradley is going to drive me home, but you guys should keep having fun. Brigham, let me know when you want to leave tomorrow, and I’ll see the rest of you when I get back from Lemoore.”

Her clipped tone and her heels furiously clicking on the sidewalk are the only physical indicators of her anger. The group watches her go, stunned. In the year since they were introduced to Mary, it’s the only time they’ve seen her get close to losing her cool.

They had seen her defend herself against misogynistic pilots, making them feel foolish without even raising her voice. They watched her bite her tongue when admirals talked down to her because of her age, letting Mav or Cyclone handle it. In the past eleven months, they had witnessed her ability to handle difficult situations with poise and grace.

But tonight was too much.

After having to deal with yet another demeaning asshole and Bradley’s rash, unwanted heroics, the rage simmering below the surface of her skin was threatening to finally break through.

Bradley follows at a slower pace, keeping an eye on her but giving her space to breathe. He startles at someone grabbing his shoulder, turning with wide eyes to find Bob with a determined look on his face.

“Take her home and apologize; let her explain before you explain your side, okay?” Bradley nods, giving a small smile to his friend. “It’s all gonna be fine; you are made for each other. You can tell me all about how right I am tomorrow morning.”

He makes his way to the car, unlocking and opening the door for Mary, the tiny bit of hope from Bob’s pep talk disappearing when he realizes that she’s giving him the silent treatment. Climbing into the front seat and ignoring the hand he offers, closing the door herself and choosing to stare out the passenger window when Bradley sides into the Bronco.

The drive to her house is quiet; the only sound is the oldies station Bradley turns on in hopes of getting Mary to talk to him. The closer they get to their destination, the more he goes from sad to annoyed.

I was just trying to help. She doesn’t need to ignore me.

They’re both fuming by the time he pulls into the driveway. She slips out of the car, hoping he’ll just go home, but he’s following behind her to the house. One step over the threshold, and he can’t take it anymore.

“Are you gonna stop ignoring me, or should I just go home?”

He watches her shoulders stiffen and feels his stomach drop her eerily calm expression. “I don’t know. Are you actually going to listen to me? Or are you just going to tell me that we should just forget this happened, too?”

“Don’t put that on all on me! This isn’t all my fault! You ignored me for an entire month!”

“Yes! Yes, I did!” She slams her hand on her kitchen island. “And then, when I tried to explain, you didn’t let me say anything! You just said we should forget everything that happened and move on! So I tried to forget! I tried to respect your wishes! But tonight, all you could do was watch me dance with other men!”

His mouth drops open; he didn’t realize she had noticed.

“Yeah! I noticed - you pilots have all the subtly of an elephant in a firework shop with its tail on fire! It’s one or the other, Bradley! We either forget what happened and we see other people, or we talk about what happened and go from there! There’s no in-between option where you get to be upset whenever I flirt with a man that’s not you! So what’s it gonna be? Are we moving on, or are we having a conversation?”

He can’t get words to come out. He knows what he wants, but he can’t speak.

“Well, Bradley?”

Say something, dumbass! She’s not going to wait forever.

She scoffs, rubbing her hands over her face. “I’m going to shower. If you’re still here when I’m done, we’ll talk. If you’re gone, well, then I have my answer.”

He’s frozen in her dining room, wincing back to reality at her bedroom door slamming shut. His phone is ringing before he realizes what he’s doing.

“Rooster? Everything okay?”

“I think I fucked up.” He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even further. “We fought, man. She noticed I was watching her tonight and yelled at me for not letting her talk last week.”

“Where are you? I’ll come get you.”

“I’m in her living room.”

“You’re still there? She didn’t kick you out?”

“She said if I’m still here when she’s done showering, we’ll talk about everything.”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Bradley.” Bob’s eye-roll is audible on the other end. “Sit down and wait for her to finish showering so you can talk. If she wanted you to leave, she would have no problem sending you packing.”

“You think?”

“She was two seconds from throwing a wrench at my head last week, and I’m her favorite.”

“Well, I don’t know about favor-”

“I am. Now, sit down, shut up, and wait for her.”

The line clicks, and he decides to listen to the advice, depositing his wallet and keys on her entryway table before sitting on her couch. Sinking into the middle cushion, he thinks about the last time he’d been on this piece of furniture.

“You’re so hard.” He’s not sure why she’s surprised. She has to know she’s had him on the verge of an erection since she opened her door this morning.

“You’ve been pressed against me for two hours in these tiny little shorts with no bra on, and you smell good.” He shrugs, feeling sheepish as he explains what got him going.

“Bradley..” The way she says his name borders on a moan, and he can’t help the noise he makes when she pulls his hair.

If she does that again, I’m going to cum.

He grabs her ass and pulls her as close as he can, brushing his other hand up her thigh and boldly dipping into the leg of her pajama shorts, enjoying the scalloped edge of her panties. Their lips brush, and he’s about to move his hand to the gusset of her underwear - he needs to know how wet she is for him - when they’re interrupted.

Between reliving that moment and crafting his apology, he doesn’t hear the shower turn off or her footsteps coming down the hall, only noticing her when she sits in the chair furthest from him.

“I’m sorry-” They start to apologize at the same time.

“I’d like to go first if you don’t mind?” She requests, taking a deep breath when he nods in agreement. “I want to start by apologizing for the last month. It was wrong of me to kick you out that night and then ignore you for a month, and I wish I hadn’t done it.”

“Why did you?”

“Because I got scared. That night… I never do things like that. I never make the first move or act that bold. So the fact that I just climbed on your lap like that - without thinking about it or second-guessing myself - freaked me out. By the time I got Annie back to sleep, I had completely psyched myself out, and I was convinced you didn’t actually want me.”

“That’s- I- did I give any indication that I didn’t want you?” He sputters the question, unsure how she could think that.

“It’s nothing you did, Bradley. It’s all on me, my insecurities. Men rarely - if ever - have had the same… enthusiasm that you did. You were great; this is a me problem.”

“I don’t understand.” He leans forward, wanting to get closer without crossing the boundary she set with her seat choice. “If everything was so great, what went wrong?”

“I’m fat, Bradley.”

He sits up straight, shocked at her words. What does that have to do with anything?

“I’m sorry, I still don’t get what the problem is.”

“I know you don’t understand what it’s like to be a woman, but please believe me when I tell you it’s hard. People are constantly policing and judging your body. Men will just tell you what they think of your body, what they think is wrong with it - unprovoked. And it’s even worse when you’re fat.” She leans back, hugging a pillow to her chest. “I know you didn’t do any of that. But I’ve been fat since I was a kid, so I’ve heard it all for years. And not just men, but from family too. It’s hard to shake those experiences, to ignore the insecurities and just enjoy the moment.”

They sit in silence for a minute, Mary refusing to make eye contact while Bradley tries to figure out his next move.

“Can I come over there?”

The question surprises her, but she nods. His choice to kneel in front of her is another surprise; he can tell from her eyebrows reaching her hairline.

“I’m gonna take this, okay?” He gently tugs the pillow from her hands, tossing it on the couch so there’s nothing between them. When Bradley sees her shirt, his breath hitches in his throat.

She’s wearing his sweatshirt.

“Sorry,” she says shyly, noticing his stare. “I’ve been wearing it to bed; I promise I’ll wash it.”

And as much as he wants to linger in the revelation that she’s been sleeping in his clothes, he pushes through.

“Mary, I’m going to be very honest with you because I need you to understand how much I wanted you that night. Sitting there with you in my lap? That’s the hardest I’ve ever been; I think about it all the time. How warm and soft you were.” He slips his hands into hers. “And I know what you look like. I like the way you look. I like everything about you. Everything. Even the things you don’t like about yourself. You’re so gorgeous.”

He wipes her cheek, brushing a tear away.

“This past month hasn’t changed how I feel about you. I still want you. I’ve never not wanted you. I’ve had a crush on you since the moment Danielle dragged you through the front door of the Hard Deck.”

“Bradley…”

“Not done, still my turn.” He leans up, getting closer to her to get his point across. “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to fix this sooner. I was trying to give you the space you wanted, but that was a mistake. After the first week, I should have told you how I was feeling, what I wanted.”

“What do you want now?” Her voice is tiny, and his heart breaks at how uncertain she sounds.

“Still you, honey. I know I said we should forget what happened, but I don’t want to forget. I want to do that again without getting interrupted this time. I want to take you out on a date. I want you. If you’ll have me.”

He watches Mary wrestle with her thoughts, her mouth opening and closing, not sure how to say what she’s thinking. “Just tell me, Mary, whatever it is. I want you to be honest with me.”

“I want that too. I want you. But I’m not sure if I’m ready for it right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“How long have you been flirting with me?” She nudges him back, scooting forward in her chair so her knees brush his chest.

He doesn’t understand the question but answers anyway, wrapping his hands around her legs, stroking his thumbs over her soft skin. “Since that night we met, I didn’t do too good of a job since you spent the evening playing darts with Jake, but that’s how long.”

“That was last January. You’ve been flirting with me for an entire calendar year. And I’m so oblivious that I didn’t even realize you were interested until you were grabbing my ass and moaning against my mouth.” She rubs her face. “So I just need some time to process this because I never thought this - us -could be an option.”

“Okay, how much time are you thinking? How do you want to do this?”

“I don’t know… there’s no free time. I’m gone this week, and next week is program review and prepping you guys for deployment. Then you’re in the middle of the ocean for two months.”

“Doesn’t really leave a lot of time for us, does it?” He jokes, squeezing her calves. “We’ll be back the first week of May. There’ll be a few days of debriefing, but then I’m on leave. Why don’t we grab dinner that Sunday? It can be as friends or as something more, whatever you want - whatever you’re ready for at that point. How does that sound?”

“You’re okay with waiting that long?”

“Mariella, it’s been a year, and nothing has changed since I saw you in that red dress. A few extra weeks where we’re just friends? That’s nothing if it means you’re comfortable.”

“I’m sorry I’m so bad at this.”

“Stop it. This isn’t all on you; I haven’t been the best either.” Bradley’s voice is firm, making sure she’s not placing the entire blame on herself. “We’ll work on it. We’re smart people; we can figure it out.”

“Thank you for being so understanding. I really am sorry about how I acted.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

Feeling lighter than they have in weeks, they look at each other and laugh when Mary yawns, her face scrunching up.

“Okay, honey, I think it’s time to get you to bed.” He stands, pulling her into a hug. “I’ll call you when you’re at Lemoore, okay? We’ll talk about our days, and you can complain about Harvard.”

“Why would I complain about Brigham?” She blinks up at him, her eyebrows creasing after a second. “Wait! Are you saying goodbye? You can’t drive home right now; it’s too late!”

He tries to argue but is cut off by her finger pointing at the clock, the two hands telling him it’s almost three in the morning. “Shit, I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“C’mon.” She pulls on his hand, leading him down the hall.

“What are we doing?”

“Going to bed?” She squeaks when he abruptly stops, tugging her off balance.

“Mary, I’m sleeping on the couch.”

Her face is baffled. “Bradley, you’re too tall; it won’t be comfortable. We can share my bed; we’re adults. We can handle it.”

His heart thumps. He wants nothing more than to crawl into bed with her, but he’s afraid of how his body might react to being next to her all night.

“Mary, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You won’t. I also want you to be comfortable, so if you don’t want to share, I’ll take the couch, and you take my bed.”

“But-”

“This is the whole communication thing we just talked about. Believe me when I say that sharing my king-sized bed with you for one night won’t make me uncomfortable.”

Bradley stares into her eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation. “Okay, lead the way then, Vertucci.”

It’s awkward for a moment in her bedroom, the two of them trying to navigate this new situation together. But after some blushing and a few stuttered words, they figure it out. He’s just finished brushing his teeth when they discover that Bradley’s preferred side of the bed matches hers.

“Two peas in a pod.” He jokes as he starts to climb into bed, heart fluttering at the bashful smile on her face.

“What are you doing?”

He freezes, covers pulled back with his knee raised. “Uhhh… getting into bed?”

“Not like that, you’re not.” His wide eyes must give away his confusion and panic because she continues. “Bradley, you are not climbing into my bed, which has nice fresh sheets, with those clothes you wore to the club. God knows what’s on those chairs we sat on.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“You are wearing underwear, right?” He nods, feeling baffled by how this night has progressed. “Then strip, you’re sleeping in your undies.”

Bradley stands there, looking at her snuggled under her quilt, bathed in the soft light of her nightstand lamp, and still wearing his name on her arm. Based on how serious she looks, he’s pretty sure she’s unaware of how flirty her words sound. If she was any other woman, he would make an effort to flirt back, try his best to be sexy as he undresses. Turn it into a striptease.

But it’s Mary, and they just got back to a good place.

So he undresses how he does when he’s alone. Unbuttoning his black shirt methodically, taking note of how her breath hitches when he pulls the tight material off, but not doing anything about it. If he has any control over their situation, there will be plenty of opportunities in the future to make her lose her breath.

He does allow himself to make eye contact while he undoes his jeans, unable to pass up the chance to watch her watch him. He sees her scan his body, can see the hunger in her eyes, can hear the small gulp when she sees the waistband of his underwear appear. He stays steady, folding the pants and draping them over his shirt before slipping under the covers, keeping a respectful distance between them.

“Gonna turn the light out?”

She blinks at him as she processes the question, her eyes hazy from the late hour, and he thinks about how he would love to have this view every night for the rest of his life. He watches as she rolls over, eyes slipping down to the skin that’s exposed when she leans to turn the lamp off. She ends up closer when she rolls back towards him; he can feel the heat of her body radiating towards him.

“What do you want for breakfast?” Mary’s voice is soft, like being too loud will ruin the small bubble they’ve created for themselves. “Do you like pancakes?”

The question makes him think of his mom, how she used to make pancakes on special occasions and sometimes just because it was Tuesday. He never makes them for himself.

“They’re my favorite. Do you make good pancakes?”

“I make the best pancakes.” He can’t see her face, but he can hear her smile. “Night, Bradley.”

He mummers good night back, enjoying the way the mattress moves as she gets comfortable. The scent of her shampoo drifts over him, resurrecting the question that he’d been asking himself for a month.

“Mary? Can I ask you a question?” His voice is quiet, scared to ruin things but needing to know the answer.

She hums, “What’s up?”

“That night. If we hadn’t gotten interrupted, what do you think would have happened?” It’s quiet. He can hear her hands playing with the edge of the sheet, fingers nervously folding and unfolding the cotton. “I’m sorry, you don’t have-”

“No, it’s okay, Bradley.” A hand brushes his chest, warm fingers ghosting over his skin in search of his hand. She continues once their fingers are intertwined. “If we hadn’t been interrupted, we would have had sex. We would’ve made out for a while, and then I would have ridden you right there on the chaise.”

“Fuck…”

She makes a small noise of agreement. “I don’t know about after, though, if we would have had a better go of things that we have. It might have been worse, I’m not sure.”

“Can’t change the past. I’m just glad we’re fixing things now.”

“Me too.” Mary presses a small kiss to the tip of his fingers, squeezing his hand before rolling over. “Good night, Bradley; sleep well.”

“Night, Mary.”

I think I’m falling in love with you.

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[sundaysundaes]

Started With A Kiss

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Actor AU, Smut, Fluff, Humor | NC-17 | 10K

Summary: Rookie actor, Lee Haechan, desperately wants to get the lead role in the highly anticipated upcoming TV drama. He’s sure he has what it takes to fill the part. Acting as a hero? No problem. Pretending to overcome his traumatic experience? Consider it done. A bed scene? Easy—wait, no. That might be a problem. But he should be fine as long as he gets to rehearse, right?

Warnings:  protected sex, oral sex, crude humor, swearing, literally 10k of sex with very little plot, a lot of playful banters between sassy!hyuck and equally sassy!Y/N

Wrote this for my love Kira @flopim​ who’s been having a tough time lately. I hope this will cheer you up bb! ❤️

“I want you to make love to me.”

Standing there, still dressed in your bright pink pajamas with your hair resembling a bird’s nest, you can only blink once, twice, and several times more because surely, your ears are playing tricks on you. There’s no way that your best friend, the cutely annoying and annoyingly cute, Lee Haechan—the one who’s been practically glued to your skin like a conjoined twin of yours for the last two years—is asking you to make love to him. 

Surely, this is not what you’d expected to see when you opened the door to your apartment, ready to bark at whoever it was who dared to disturb your beauty sleep (since it is seven in the morning on a Sunday), only to see him standing in his blue ripped jeans and black Michael Jackson shirt with his cheeks flushed, his bag hanging loosely on his shoulder, brown eyes desperately begging for your attention. 

And you’re most definitely sure that he’s not asking you to sleep with him when you still have drool on the corner of your mouth and a terrible morning breath (in your defense, you have brushed your teeth but that was, like, six hours ago).

But when seconds have passed and Haechan still looks like he badly needs to hear an answer, you have very little options but to ask, “You want me to do what to who now?”

Catching a sniff of your mighty dragon’s breath, he promptly takes a step back, scrunching his nose while frantically covering half of his face with the script he’s been holding. “Eew, God, what is that smell?” Ignoring your glare, he repeats his words, voice muffled by the papers. “I said, I want you to make love to me.”

“What—”

“Damn it, woman, just brush your teeth and let me in!”

When he’s stomping his feet while whining that loudly—loud enough for your fucking landlord to hear, along with everybody else in the building (including your cute neighbor, Jaehyun, oh dear God, no), he doesn’t give you any other choice but to invite him in, does he?

You step away from the door, flatly muttering, “Please, come in, why don’t you.” Haechan doesn’t waste any second waiting, making sure to run and stay as far away as possible from you so he won’t inhale the poisonous air that’s tainted with your breath again. 

You roll your eyes. Dramatic little shit. But just to be on the safe side, you make your way to the bathroom.

***

The scalding hot shower you just took was comforting but not enough to wash your entire drowsiness away. You’re in dire need of your caffeine intake. “Would you like some coffee, my king?” You ask between a yawn, hands finding their way to the coffee jar on your kitchen counter.

Haechan throws his bag to the floor, body sinking into the comfort of your couch. “With milk, please.”

"I’m kidding.”

“Well, I’m not.” He throws one of those cheeky grins that you adore—no, wait, you hate—as he settles his legs on your coffee table. “Less sugar but more milk. I’m still growing.”

“Growing what, your balls?” You pour him a cup of coffee as requested, yes, because to balance his demonic behavior, you have to act like the perfect angel that you are. “Since you don’t have any?”

“You mean, like your boyfriend?” Haechan retorts before he gasps dramatically, his palm going to his mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t have a boyfriend.”

You hover above him from behind the couch, bringing two mugs filled with sizzling hot coffee. “Want to repeat that?” You tip your mug just a little bit until it nearly spills on his forehead.

Haechan winces, attempting to grin. “I’m sorry, I love you, please don’t ruin my face. It’s the only thing that’s good about me.”

“It surely is.”

“Yah, what does that mean?”

“Take it as a compliment.” 

Sitting next to him, you sip your coffee and curse silently when the liquid burns your tongue. “Okay, so what about this ‘make love to me’ thing you said earlier? Please tell me it’s just a figure of speech or something.”

“I wish.” He drags his legs away from the table so he can lay his cup down because apparently, he means business. “Okay, I know you’re gonna kill me after you hear—”

“After? I’m about to kill you now, actually.” You scoff. “Don’t you remember what we’ve agreed on? You cannot bother me when I’m still too sleepy to smack you in the head, Haechannie.”

“When did we ever—” He stops. “Why are you going to smack me in the head?” 

“‘Cause you’ll say something stupid.”

“Who says I’m gonna say something stupid?”

“You always say something stupid. You’re saying something stupid now!”

“It’s not stupid.” He sighs exasperatedly but when your flat, degrading stare comes into view, it morphs into a groan. “Well, not that stupid. I’ve thought about this—really thought about it—and I can’t find anyone else to do this but you since you’re the only girl I’m friends with. I mean, I can pick random girls, I suppose—you know how popular I am. They just can’t stop talking about me. My hair, my eyes—”

“—your tiny dick.”

“But I don’t want to break any girl’s heart by doing something that’s gonna make them feel like I’m just using them to get a job, you know? I know I’m hot but these good looks aren’t meant to trample people’s hearts.”

“And you don’t care how I’m gonna feel?”

He has the decency to act like he’s thinking about it, but then, “No, not really.”

“Thanks.”

“Look, I really need your help.” He takes it as further as holding your hand between his, puckering his pouty lips, and blinking his eyes in a way that’s cute enough to leave you in daze so you pretend like you’re about to vomit your insides to cover it up. 

Okay, so there’s one thing—one little thing that nobody knows—that you’re too ashamed to admit and that is the fact that you have a massive crush on this boy who sits in front of you with his socks unmatched. Well, no, not massive. It used to be massive during the first few weeks you knew him. How could you not? Haechan was so cute, you wanted to turn him into a doll so you could carry him around in your backpack and squish his cheeks whenever you feel like it. Sure, he’s not all jawlines and dimples like that neighbor of yours (Jung Jaehyun was probably sculpted by God himself ), but Haechan has his own charms. His devilish smirk, his loud, contagious laughter, his naughty eyebrow raise, and his lips—God, his beautiful plump lips, the way they look so pouty and soft. Honestly, you can write a whole essay about his attractive features (not that you haven’t already).

You knew you were crazy for him when the antics he did annoyed the hell out of his friends but to you, he was just plain adorable. And you realized you were pretty much fucked-up when Jeno said, “Fucking Lee Donghyuck said he forgot his wallet and robbed me this morning. Who the fuck orders a freakin’ wagyu steak for breakfast?!” and the only thing you could think of was how nice it was to go on a date with him and how your first kiss with him was going to be like (poor Jeno, though). 

It’s not that you love him or anything. It’s mostly physical, nothing more—at least for now anyway. It’s not your fault that he’s so fucking pretty that he ends up showing every now and then in your fantasy, doing indescribable naughty things that will definitely make Mark splash some holy water on your face if he knew what was going on in your head.

Fortunately, now that you’ve been friends with him for two years, that massive crush you had has turned into something normal, something you can easily hide. And can be forgotten even, whenever another cute guy—like Na Jaemin, for example—takes you out on a date or two. It’s easier to breathe these days.

“Hello? Are you there?” Haechan snaps his fingers, waking you up from your reverie. “What’s your answer? Do you want to make love to me or not?”

‘It’s easier to breathe these days?’ More like fucking kill me. 

“Can you stop saying that?” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You’re giving me headaches.” Or a heart attack, more accurately. “Assume I said yes. Don’t you think it’s gonna get a little weird between us?”

“What is so weird about it?” He throws his hands in the air, exhausted and impatient. “It’s just gonna be two friends, pretending to be in love with each other, hugging, kissing, touching, and having sweet, tender sex.” Realization falls upon him and you resist the urge to exhale loudly. “Yeah, okay, so it is a little weird, but it should be fine, right? It’s just acting. It’s not like you have any feelings for me, do you?”

If by feelings you mean picturing you naked in my head with your mouth sucking on my neck, then yeah, I do have feelings for you. Plenty of that. But on the outside, you say, “Eew, God, no.”

Haechan squints his eyes at your response. “Can’t say I’m not hurt with the way you said it, but eew, God, no to you too. Well, if that’s the case then I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he says, sipping his coffee, and retracts his mouth as soon as the flavor hits his tongue. “What the hell is this?! Did you spit on my coffee or something?”

You didn’t but for your amusement, you throw him a sly grin. “A little.” It’s satisfying to see him looking like he’s about to pass out. “I’m still worried how it’s gonna affect our friendship later on though.”

He simply shrugs. “Meh. We’re not really that close to begin with anyway.” He takes another sip of his coffee by accident and nearly vomits for real. “Fucking hell—take this shit out of my face.”

“I'm still not sure about this, Haechannie.”

“Look, I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to you, we’re just going to pretend! Acting!” He exclaims as if that was the most normal thing a friend could ask another friend. “And you’re gonna be acting out a love scene with someone as hot as me. Consider yourself lucky.”

“Consider yourself dead.”

“Damn it, my audition is in two days and I really want to get this role!” He’s whining, tugging at your hand like a baby as he practically throws himself at your feet, graveling for your mercy. “You’re the only one who can help me with this. How can I act properly if I don’t have enough experience to perform a freaking bed scene?!”

“I don’t think actors who have to play dead have enough experience of, you know, being dead.”

“Excellent point.” Haechan stares at you blankly, unimpressed. “Do you hear yourself when you talk?”

“Do you?”

A few seconds passed by in silence with the two of you exchanging sinister glares until he finally surrenders with a prominent pout on his face. “Fine, if you don’t want to.” Haechan exhales dramatically, his shoulders sagging and when you don’t respond, he sighs again only louder this time. “I guess, I have to force Mark to make out with me. Again.” He sneaks a glance to see your reaction. “And have my face slapped with a Bible. Again.”

You wince at the thought. “How did you force him, exactly?”

“Just…” He timidly scratches his nose. “Kinda attacked him in his sleep.”

You nod in understanding even when it’s the most idiotic thing you’ve ever heard. “Well, maybe he would’ve been fine with it if you had taken him out for a nice dinner before that.”

Haechan smiles a little at your words, and even a little glimpse of it is contagious enough to make your own spread wider on your face. Small chuckles resonate through the air and he playfully bumps his shoulder against yours, his palm resting on your knuckles.

“On a more serious note,” Haechan says, “I know that asking you to rehearse a bed scene with me is too much and way out of line. But I swear, I’m not gonna touch you if you’re so uncomfortable with it. Won’t even hold your hand, I promise.” Then he notices he’s still holding your hand from earlier. He drops it immediately, clearing his throat. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” It’s more than fine. His hand seems to fit yours in a way that nobody ever does but there’s no way you’re gonna tell him that. “So, we’re just gonna be practicing lines?”

“Exactly.” He rubs his nape, suddenly a bit bashful. “Well, I was hoping to at least kiss you—just to, you know, know how it’d feel like.”

“You’ve never kissed before?”

“I have, obviously.” He rolls his eyes, disgusted at your question. “I’m not a fucking virgin if that’s what you’re assuming.”

“Chill, don’t get your panties in a twist. Nah, I know you’re not a virgin from how many times you’ve had sex with yourself.”

“Hey!” 

“But then, why do you need to practice? Can’t you just go straight to your castmates, and kiss the bejeezus out of them?”

Donghyuck runs a hand through his face. “It’s… I’ve never done it for a role,” he professes, faint blush blooming on his cheeks, “And the scene is supposed to be intimate and I’ve never… You know…”

You gesture at him to clarify more with your hands. “You’ve never…?”

“You know…” The color on his face turns brighter. “T-the thing.”

“What thing? Never made-out in public? Never had sex outdoor?” You act clueless just because you’re liking his reaction. “Never had a finger stuck in your ass? What? Please do enlighten me.”

“I’ve never been in love, you witch!” Haechan is adorable when he’s fuming. Nostrils blaring, eyebrows knitting together in an angry frown, scarlet cheeks all puffed out. He looks like a terribly pissed Pomeranian.

Man, if I could just take a picture. “Oh, okay. So have you had your finger stuck in your ass?”

“I swear to God—”

“Kidding. I know you have.” But even when Haechan is nearly ripping your cheeks apart from your face, your giggles are never-ending. “So, you’re nervous?” You snort, raising an eyebrow. “You, the obnoxious, desperate-for-attention Lee Haechan, are nervous?”

“Will you help me out or not?!”

You pretend like you’re contemplating about it when truth is, every part of your body and mind is just screaming what the heck are you waiting for? He’s asking you to rehearse a bed scene—a. bed. scene! And he said he wanted to kiss you, for God’s sake! So, really, what else is there to say but “Okay.”

Haechan widens his eyes. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You try your best to appear nonchalant. “But you’ll owe me a favor. A huge one.”

“Anything,” he instantly agrees, “As long as I’m not dead, you have my words.”

You’re not yet sure what you’re planning to ask him but seeing his enthusiasm, you know it’s going to be good. “Great. So, umm, do you want to do it now or…?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Here?”

“Wherever you want.”

“Man, you’re giving me too much power. I should’ve agreed to this way sooner.” You can practically feel your face splitting in half from how wide you’re grinning. “My room, then? I mean, a bed scene requires… a bed, right?”

Haechan laughs and even after two years, it still sounds like your most favorite thing in the world. “No, it doesn’t necessarily require a bed but sure.” He jumps out from the couch, taking you by the hand, and only by that, you can already feel your heart thumping a tad faster. But the second he walks into your room, he makes a face. “Why does it smell like something died in here?”

“Because something did die. Your dignity.”

The tickling fight doesn’t occur very often between you and Lee Haechan but once it starts, it means war.

***

“Okay, so…” Haechan hands you the script, already opened to show you a page filled with dialogues and short narratives. He scoots closer on the bed, his knee a few inches away from grazing yours as they dangle from the edge. “Just from the top of the page, here.” He points with his finger and you do a quick scan, trying to get a picture of the intimate scene you’re going to do. “So, a quick summary. Your character, Aeri, has been in love with my character, Donghyun. In the earlier scene, you’ve confessed your love to me but I rejected you because we’ve been friends for so long and I didn’t want to ruin what we have. But then, later on, some things happened and I ended up catching feelings for you and this is the part where I’m gonna be telling you how I really feel and then we start kissing and—”

“Then we have sex,” you utter in dismay, but butterflies are erupting from your stomach due to the anticipation.

“No,” Haechan corrects you, “We make love.”

“Is there any difference?”

“There are more feelings involved, not just out of sheer passion. It’s slower. Tender. Intimate.” And when he notices you raising a questioning brow at him, he sighs. “That thing you did with Jaemin? Fucking like bunnies? The opposite of that.”

You mock him by imitating his sigh exaggeratedly and receiving a flick on the nose in return. “Is it just me or is the script pretty lousy?”

He nods. “But they’ll pay you good money for this.”

“I thought the reason you became an actor was to create art not money.”

“When I’m rich, maybe. Right now, I gotta pay for my rent. And apparently, Jeno keeps chasing my ass, forcing me to pay him back. It was just a wagyu steak for fuck’s sake.” He grumbles to himself, momentarily distracted. “Anyway,” he cracks his neck, “I’ve memorized my lines. Wanna give it a go?”

“Okay, let’s try. I guess I’ll be fine if it’s just kissing. Even if it’s with you.” When in reality you’re only agreeing to this because it’s with him.

Haechan’s eyes gleam brighter, ears practically perking up like an excited puppy. “Really?”

“You’re that excited at the thought of kissing me?” You play smug but you could practically hear your heartbeat blasting through your ears. “What else have you been thinking about me?”

“I’m not excited at the thought of kissing you, dumbass,” he spits back, the spark in his eyes vanishes in an instant. “I’m excited that finally I can practice kissing scenes with someone who’s actually willing to do it, and not, you know, like with the back of my hand or something.”

“You…” Failing to hold back a grin, you burst out laughing. “You made out with your hand?”

It’s funny that even when his skin is golden as if it was kissed by the sun, it still shows vividly on his face whenever he blushes. “I didn’t mean it literally—”

“I can’t believe you made out with your hand.”

“Would you just—” He nearly suffocates you with your pillow but you quickly retaliate by kicking him in the stomach.

Tears are prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Man, that mental image of yours making out with your hand will live in my mind rent-free for as long as I live.” When you still can’t stop laughing, Haechan is practically baring his teeth. “Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s get this going. If it gets too uncomfortable for me, I’ll stop.”

“Of course.” 

“At any time I want.”

“Your call.” He nods in agreement with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him do; it almost doesn’t seem like him. 

“Good,” you say. “Now, I’ve never acted once in my life so if you laugh at me, I will sneak into your room at night and pour hot coffee on your computer.”

There’s fear fleeting through his eyes but he gives another nod. “Deal.”

“All right…” You take a deep breath, willing your heart to stop hammering against your ribcages, and for once, focus more on the script instead of the shape of his pretty, pretty mouth. “What are you doing here?” You follow the script, voice a little bit shaky as you’re still embarrassed with everything you’re doing. Haechan closes his eyes and you’re about to throw a joke to tease him about actor Haechan coming alive but when he opens them and gazes at you, you sit still, frozen.

“I wanted to see you,” he says, voice so delicate, it startles you. He’s so serious about this that you don’t find the strength within you to tease him like how you usually do. Somehow, the little gestures he makes, the changes in his expression alter the air along with the tension in the room. Suddenly, it feels like you’re standing next to him under the spotlight, hundreds of pairs of eyes following your every movement. 

“It’s—” You swallow your breath, tongue lays heavy in your mouth. “It's pouring outside, why are you—”

“I love you,” he vocalizes, his eyes gentle and heartbroken. His voice suddenly sounds a pitch lower, reverberating through the air until it sends goosebumps to the tiny hairs on your nape. He waits for your reply and you have to blink twice to slap yourself back to reality.

“W-what?”

“I’m sorry it took me this long to realize, but I do. I’m in love with you, hopelessly so.” He reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. Though he has pretty hands, his fingertips are not as soft as you had imagined them to be, but they feel better, feel real. His warmth is unfamiliar to your skin but it feels more pleasant than anything that ever touches you. “Maybe you’re unaware of this, but it kills me to know that I’ve hurt you because I simply couldn’t be brave enough to accept my feelings. The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.”

Haechan’s lines fit your situation so much that you wish he wasn’t acting. It’s amazing how he’s changing into an entirely different persona and yet, it feels so natural as if he has been that person all along. Your breathing gets heavier as you take a brief look at the script, searching for your lines. “This feels unreal…”

“Do you still love me?” Haechan lifts your face by the chin, his touch is paper-thin. 

You wet your lips, head swirling. “But Donghyun—”

“Do you still love me?” He repeats, emphasizing with his tone. His eyes are peering into yours and you wonder maybe the quote eyes deeper than the sea refers to his gaze. “Or is it too late for me?” His thumb drifts to your lip, caressing your bottom one, your lip balm sticking to his skin. 

“I do,” you reply. He’s so pretty. You’ve never taken a glance longer than a few seconds at his close-up face, but now that you’re in this close proximity, you can finally witness the two tiny moles on his cheek, the beautiful shape of his dark eyes, the delicate curve of his lips… “I do love you, Donghyuck.”

A few seconds of silence hangs in the air when Haechan stops, his eyebrows furrowing. “Umm—it’s Donghyun, actually.”

Fuck! “Right!” You nearly leap out of your bed, face aflame. “Donghyun! Of course! I don’t know why I said that. Donghyuck is your name, I know that—” Fuck, fuck, fuck, just fucking kill me. “Sorry, umm—nervous.”

Fortunately for you, Haechan buys your bluff. “Rookie mistake,” he chuckles and you exaggeratedly roll your eyes to play along. “Okay, let’s start over. Do you still love me?”

“I do,” you respond too rigidly, making him glance away so he won’t break into laughter. “I do love you, Donghyun. Dong-Hyun.”

“Good,” he improvises, as it’s not written in the script. He has a tiny smile on his face and you like to think that it’s just him doing a terrible job at hiding his amusement. But when he swats your bangs out of your eyes, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he seems like he’s seeing the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in his whole life. The adoration in his eyes, his loving gaze—they are so vivid, they nearly consume you. “Because I don’t think I can resist this any longer…”

You’re lost in his eyes, lost in his touch, lost in his warmth. It’s until Haechan nudges his head slightly, indicating you to wake up, you’ve got a line to say, that you jolt, eyes hurriedly going down to the script, seeking your lines. “Umm—“ You flinch. You sound so jittery, it’s terrible. “R-resist what…?”

But Haechan doesn’t pay a mind that you just stuttered from saying two words. He doesn’t ask you to start over. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours, his breath mingling in the air and you can taste the scent of sandalwood and summer. Combined with his soft breathing, you’re almost stuck in a haze, just reeling in the feeling of how this man is now closer to you than he has ever been in the past two years and it’s better than anything you’ve ever imagined.

“Resist this,” he whispers and before you can look down to check whether you have more lines to say, Haechan dips his head, his lips brushing against yours, ever so faintly at first but when you gasp, he presses harder, framing your cheeks with both hands before he moves one down to your waist. Unlike his fingertips, his lips are soft—softer than silk or the cotton candy he once bought you. But it’s not the way they feel or the way he tastes that distract you the most. It’s the way he moves them, parting his lips slightly so he can blend with yours, your lower lip fits perfectly between his plump ones. It’s the way he sighs, so contentedly, as if kissing you was everything he ever wanted.

You close your eyes, hands reaching up to his collar, wanting to feel him more, wanting to touch him—

Haechan breaks away, placing both hands on your shoulders. “How was it?”

You’ve never had someone splash cold water on your face but you figure it might feel something like this. Your voice grows hoarse when you speak. “How was what?”

“The kiss!” Haechan’s eyes are filled with concern, analyzing your expression. “Was it romantic enough? Tender enough? Did it properly convey the desperation and longing my character feels for yours?”

You knew this was a bad idea. You fucking knew it. So, why are you still hurt when he acts like he feels exactly nothing by that kiss? This is just an acting lesson for him. You should have been prepared. 

“It’s good,” you answer, averting your gaze and hiding your eyes behind your bangs. Your heart is still running a thousand miles an hour but somehow, it doesn’t feel as pleasant as before. “So, next scene—”

“Wait, are you okay?” Haechan asks, bending slightly to catch a glimpse of your face. “Was it too much? Do you want to stop?”

Truth is, you’re conflicted. You’re going to catch feelings—you most likely already are. But Haechan only treats you as a friend and nothing more, and this is the only chance you have to be this close to him. The temptation of continuing the kiss, to just hold him close for one more time, stands stronger than anything else so you say, “No. I promised you I’d help.”

He’s still unsure, eyes glinting in concern. “It’s okay if you want to stop, I—”

“Let’s just do the damn scene, Donghyuck.”

Haechan freezes on his seat, eyes searching yours as you now have the bravery to look at his face. Knowing you came on too strong, you try to ease it off with a smile. “I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just my first time doing this—acting, I mean. Can we try again?”

He spends another few seconds trying to decipher the true meaning behind your smile but eventually nods his head at your command. He drags his finger back to the script. “Then, umm… Let’s start from here?”

You don’t even look at the page when you give affirmation. “Go.”

Haechan takes a moment to prepare himself and when your eyes meet each other again, he’s a different person once more. “The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.” His voice is so soothing, you almost forget that deep down you’re immensely upset knowing that the kiss didn’t have the same effects on him.

This time, when he frames your face with his palm, you lean into his touch, eyes never leaving his. “This feels unreal,” you say and for a second—just for a split second—you notice Haechan breaking out of character, surprised by the gentle expression on your face. Because you’re not acting out his script, you’re acting out on your feelings. It’s your only chance to be honest with him without forcing him to respond. So you pour all these feelings you have for him out in the open—ones that started from a mere physical attraction to something more as his presence grew bigger in your life, you’re acting out each and every one of them. 

“Do…” He inhales sharply, trying to focus. “Do you still love me?” He’s doing the same thing as before, placing his thumb and index finger on your chin but before he can say his lines, you see how his eyes fall on your lips.

And you kiss him. You kiss him with everything you have, hands going to his face, fingers slipping between his strands, and Haechan gasps against your mouth, his fingers curling around your wrist. You know he’s about to push you away so you quickly murmur, “I do,” against his lips, breath stuttering, “I do love you.”

When you take his bottom lip between yours, teeth grazing against his supple skin, Haechan lets out an involuntary moan at the back of his throat. The butterflies in your stomach come alive, pumping a rush of adrenaline through your veins and suddenly, you’re brave enough to glide your tongue across his lip. His hold tightens around your wrist but instead of pushing you away, he tugs you closer and you fall into his chest, hands breaking free from his grip to wind around his neck. Your fingertips are scraping against his nape before they move upward to yank at the roots of his hair. “Fuck,” he breathes out, almost inaudibly, as if he didn’t mean to let the word slip from his mouth and it makes your heart jumps straight out of your chest. The second he responds properly, Haechan kisses like fire, all passion and urgency, and you really don’t mind being consumed by his flames.

His hands are on your waist, pulling you closer and closer until you’re almost sitting on his lap before he jolts awake, pushing you away so abruptly, you almost fall from the bed.

“I’m—We—” he stammers, looking everywhere but your eyes. His cheeks are flushed, his lips bruised and red from your kisses. “I think we should—I gotta go—“

He stands up from the bed like the sheets are catching on fire, picking his script from the floor and gathering all his belongings at once before he runs toward the door. He turns on his heels, wanting to say something to fix the goddamn situation, but when his eyes land on yours, his words vanish without a trace. 

“I—I’ll call you later,” he finally says and doesn’t wait for your response. The front door closes with a thud.

And then silence comes to answer.

What just happened? 

Your heart is thundering inside your chest, you’re starting to feel nauseous. What have I done? You keep asking over and over. You thought everything was going to be fine. He responded to your kiss earlier, didn’t he? You were sure you didn’t imagine the whole thing. But now he’s gone and you’re not sure whether he’s gonna come back as the same Haechan—the old, bratty but caring Lee Haechan. The one who snickers loudly when you fall face-first on the ground but always steals secret glances at you to make sure you're not hurt. The one who makes jokes about your love life but never forgets to show up at your apartment with a thoughtful gift right at the minute you turn a year older. 

Things are not just gonna get awkward, they’re ruined.

When nearly half an hour has passed by and you’re still left alone in your apartment with no signs of him coming back, you’re about to go insane. You can’t stay still, walking back and forth your living room with the tip of your thumb between your teeth.

Should I chase after him and explain that it was just me trying to improvise? You hesitate with your hand lingering on the doorknob. But with your knees nearly giving up under your weight, you decide to stay put. It will probably just gonna make it worse. He’ll see through my lies, he always does.

You’re straying away to the kitchen, hands placed on the counter. You can feel your head spinning, stomach somersaulting. Damn it, why did I have to do that?! Why couldn’t I just— 

The front door slams opened and Haechan barges in with his hair messy, ruffled by the wind, and his bangs sticking to his temple. Stunned, you stand still on your ground. Your heart is the only one that’s moving beyond control. His eyes scan your apartment until they land on yours and for an instant, everything seems to fade away.

“Fuck it,” he says, dropping his bag to the ground and making his way towards you in such a hurry, he nearly trips over his feet. “You’re not that good of an actor to be faking it.” Before you have the chance to even take a breath, Haechan’s lips are smashing against yours. 

“Hae—” Haechan’s kiss is insane. So forceful that you can barely keep up, taking every bit of air directly from your lungs. He has you backed against the kitchen counter, the marbled edge digging into your skin. His hands frame your face, sliding against your cheek until they cup the backsides of your neck, his thumbs resting against your ears. You curl your fingers around his wrist, gasping, “Wait—”

He pulls away, lifting your face so you can’t bring your gaze anywhere else. “You like me?” His eyes are just as intense, begging for answers. “Please tell me I’m not imagining this.”

But behind that passion, his confidence is wavering. You can tell by his quivering breath, the little tremble running through his fingertips, and at that, you’re drowning in relief. You don’t think he’s that good of an actor to be faking this too. 

“I do,” you admit, heart pounding so loudly that you can barely hear your own voice. “I like—”

His mouth is on yours again and it feels like he’s kissing you in a hundred different places at once. “Jesus Christ, why have you kept quiet about this for so long?” he says, tasting your breath and skin at the same time. “Two fucking years. We wasted two fucking years.”

The words this isn’t happening endlessly run through your head but all your senses scream that Haechan is really here, in your arms, his nails clawing against your shirt and there’s nothing left you want from this world.

When you reciprocate to him properly, your palms sliding up his chest, over his shoulder, until your arms circle his neck, Haechan sighs in content. His kisses grow slower—more relaxed—but deeper, his tongue peeking out shyly at first but not for long. He still tastes faintly like the coffee you made and something else entirely different. Something pleasant that’s just exactly how you’ve fantasized him to be, if not more.

He pulls away to catch his breath with his eyes still focusing on your lips, thumb rubbing your lower one. “Does this feel weird to you?” He whispers, his temple pressing against yours.

You’re intoxicated by his sweet scent though you’re not sure whether it’s the smell of his shampoo, his cologne, or just him altogether. “No,” and as soon as the word comes out, his lips are chasing after yours once more.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t think I can stop.” He’s breathing heavily against your mouth as you are against his. With his fingers twisted in your hair, making a messy ponytail out of it, Haechan peppers open-mouthed kisses on your neck, tongue pressing against your pulsating vein and a whimper escapes your mouth.

Your dreams, your fantasies—they all fall pale in comparison to reality. When you vocalize his name, it almost sounds like a plead and Haechan slants his mouth back on yours again, giving you another taste as he is not satisfied with yours just yet. “Your lips taste amazing,” he breathes out and it’s so quiet, it seems like he’s intending to say the words in his head and not with his mouth. But as his words fall on your ears, they send tingles down your spine.

“So do yours,” you reply, attempting to make him blush in return but if he does, he doesn’t show much. “Never pegged you as a man who wears lip balm.”

You can feel his smirk directly with your skin. “I’m not wearing any.”

“You’re not?” You lightly giggle, swiping your tongue across his lower lip. “Then your lips do taste amazing.”

Haechan’s hand is slipping underneath your shirt, fingers hovering above your bra. “Guess there are still a lot of things you don’t know about me, huh?”

“I’ve got a hunch you’re about to teach me?”

“Only if you’re eager to learn.”

The kiss becomes heavier that you’re lost for words, entirely consumed by his passion, until he breaks away, muttering, “Off, off, off, off, off,” as he struggles to tear the fabric away from your body. You titter at his desperation, raising both hands to help him out of his misery. The second it’s off, he lifts you by the waist and places you down on the counter. 

“I’m amazed you could lift me,” you coo, admiring the sight of his lean stomach as he pulls his shirt over his head. His silver necklace hangs loosely around his neck and you hook a finger around it to yank him back to you.

He doesn’t seem to be able to detach his lips from yours for too long, especially when you keep sneaking glances at his. So when he speaks again, his every word is painted directly to your skin. “It wasn’t easy.” He settles between your thighs, mouth latching against your collarbone. “You weigh a ton.”

“Yeah?” You bite your lip, holding back a moan as he sucks bruises on your neck, the edge of his fingers trailing over the seam of your bra. “Then you must be so strong.”

“I am, haven’t you noticed?” Haechan pulls away just to showcase a mischievous grin. “I work out, you know.”

You blurt out laughing. It’s not solely because of the mental image of Lee Haechan—a full-time gamer, Lee Haechan—doing push-ups seems so funny to you. It’s more about the way he wiggles his eyebrow, trying to be sexy about it when you know he’s the weakest one in your group. Flustered at your reaction, he flicks your nose. “What is so funny?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize though it doesn’t seem that much sincere with the way you’re still giggling at him. “It’s just that an hour ago we were two friends making fun of each other and now we’re here, in this position. I don’t know, it just feels surreal to me.”

An adorable pout blooms on his face. “I thought you said this didn’t feel weird.”

“No, it’s perfect. I want this.” You wrap the end of his necklace twice around your index finger. “I want you. It’s just… I’ve been imagining this to happen for such a long time and now that it’s happening, I’m feeling a lot of things at once.” You place a reassuring kiss on his temple. “I’m nervous.” This time landing one on his cheek. “I’m relieved.” When your lips hover above his, you notice him parting his own slightly in anticipation. “And it feels so good, I don’t ever want to stop. Even if that means we can’t go back to being friends.”

Haechan can’t form a response as you don’t let him, your mouth swallowing the tiny moans he emits. “We’ll talk about that later,” he hastily replies, “I still haven’t had enough of you yet.”

Without warning, he lifts you off the counter, making you yelp and wrap your legs around his waist for support. “Haechannie!” With you holding onto him, he takes a step forward, ignoring your call. “Where are you taking me—"

“Wait, no, back pain, back pain.” Both of you nearly tumble down to the ground from how he’s harshly placing you back to your feet, wincing at the ache erupting from the strained muscles in his spine. He’s groaning in pain, massaging his back with both hands. “Fuck, you’re really heavy!”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady.” You throw your slipper at him, missing his head just a few inches, laughing all the way. “What exactly were you trying to do?”

“I was trying to move us to the couch.”

“All you had to do was ask.”

“I was trying to be sexy.” He juts out his lower lip, and it takes all control of your body to not squeeze his cheeks from how adorable he looks.

“Honey, you are sexy, believe me, but you’re also weak as fuck. Consider hitting the gym for real next time and then carry me.”

“Shut up,” he sighs, holding out a hand for you to take. “To the couch, please? And maybe a massage after this ‘cause my back is killing me.”

Shaking your head in amusement, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his and drag him over to the couch. He’s in the middle of asking, “Do you want me to be on top or—” when you push him down and straddle his lap without warning, legs tangling around his hips. “Oh, okay.”

You run a hand through his hair, pushing them back so you can witness the glow in his eyes. “You look sexier with your hair pushed back.” You love the way he stares at you, eyes half-lidded painted with lust and desire. And combined with your commentary, he now has his cheek tinted with red. “Do you have a problem with me being on top?”

His eyes quickly run down to the place where your denim shorts are riding up your thighs, your zipper pressing against his groin. With a noticeable gulp, he stutters out, “N-no.”

You smile, patting his cheek. “Good.”

The kiss starts slow as you focus more on moving your hands down his body. Haechan shivers a little when your palm is pressing against his bare chest, sliding down to his navel. When you pull back, raising a questioning brow at his reaction, he bashfully says, “Your hand’s cold,” looking like a nervous little boy who’s a stark contrast to how he usually behaves.

He’s so cute.

“Well, I know a way to warm you up.” You smirk, almost cringing when you hear your own words but Haechan seems to like it.

“Oooh,” he coos, grinning against your lips. “Are you offering what I think you’re offering?”

“I don’t know.” You kiss your way down from his jawline to his chest, pushing yourself off his lap so you can kneel on the floor, your fingers unbuckling his belt. “What do you think I’m offering?”

Haechan’s eyes are glowing with anticipation. He curves his fingers around the edge of his seat, wetting his lip nervously when you pull his zipper down. You release him from his boxer, stroking him to life and he sinks his nails further into the couch. A train of expletives breaks free from his mouth but he’s so quiet, you can only hear his ragged breathing.

But by the time you run your thumb over his slit, your hot breath hitting his sensitive skin, Haechan melts into a whimpering mess. “Please don’t tease,” he begs.

“I haven’t even started, Haechannie.” And he looks like he’s about to say something but it only turns into a mewl when you press a kiss to his tip. “You’re so cute,” you comment, and he shivers when the vibration of your voice meets his skin. 

Haechan tries to act composed. “Of course I’m cute, it’s—” 

You cut his line short by darting out your tongue, giving kitten licks at the side, smiling satisfyingly when his eyes meet yours. As you give him a little suck around his tip, he throws his head back, his lower lip between his teeth. “I—I said don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing you.” But you are. How can you not? He looks so fucking cute. You’ve never really enjoyed giving head before, especially when your opponent gets rough and ends up pushing too deep until you gag. But with Haechan, you feel like you can do this for hours. He’s so nervous and shy, doesn’t even dare to place his hand on your hair, and his reaction to every bit of your action is honest even when his words aren’t. 

“Here.” You take one of his hands, moving it to your head. “You can use me as much as you want.”

“Use—” he crumbles at your choice of words. When you suddenly envelop him with your mouth, moving from the tip to the base in one quick motion, Haechan instinctively grabs a handful of your hair, flinching. “Goddamn, why are you so fucking hot?”

You giggle, sliding his cock out of your mouth with an obscene pop. “Thanks.”

“No, I mean your mouth. It’s so fucking warm.”

“So, you’re saying,” you dip your tongue into his slit, eyes seductively peering into his. “I’m not hot?”

“You’re—Fuck, fuck—” Haechan seethes, hips buckling when you bob your head down again, tongue pressing against his veins. Shivers run through his fingertips when he slips them between your locks, pushing your fringe back to have a good look at your face. You catch a glimpse of him, his lips unconsciously moving to form words that you can’t hear. So pretty, he seems to say, and the thought of it makes your stomach lurch in delight. Taking him completely in your mouth, you hollow your cheeks, swallowing around him. He tightens his hold around your hair, cheeks flushed and you expect him to hold you in place so he can thrust against your mouth but what he does is pull you away. “Stop, stop, stop, stop.”

Wiping a string of saliva away with the back of your hand, you ask with a frown. “Something’s wrong?”

Haechan hides his reddening face behind his fingers, quietly answering, “I was about to come.”

You hold back a grin. With a nonchalant hum, you dip your head down again, this time engulfing him until he hits the back of your throat.

“Jesus Christ.” His sanity is deteriorating, he can feel it.

“Don’t bring Lord’s name when I have your dick in my mouth, Haechannie. Mark would kill you if he knew.”

“Fuck Mark. Come here.” He rushes forward, forcibly pulling you up with both hands clamping your arms. When you follow his order, settling back down on top of his lap, he confesses with his lips grazing against the shell of your ear. “I really won’t last long if you keep doing that.”

Despite your previous teasing and confidence, you squirm inside his arms, feeling warmth spreading from your chest to your cheek. “So I have these effects on you?”

He’s almost growling when he retorts, “You don’t even know.” Haechan pushes your bra strap until it falls off your shoulder, teeth marking your supple skin until you hiss in both pain and pleasure. He presses a softer kiss to soothe away the bruise. “Sorry, I… You’re gonna need to cover it up tomorrow.”

“It’s fine.” You stroke his cheek, tracing the tiny mole on his jawline. “Seems like you have a biting kink.”

He sheepishly chuckles, “I don’t know. But if you let me, I’d love to do that again.” 

Something about him saying it in the most sincere way possible, almost too formal even, makes you crave more for him and everything he does. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want with me, Lee Donghyuck.”

Haechan swallows hard, barely has the bravery to look at you in the face after hearing your words and his real name tumbling out of your mouth. His fingers are now on the hem of your shorts, trembling a little bit. “Umm—may I?”

Helping him further, you stand on your knees, unclasping your bra first to his surprise and pulling your denim shorts and panties down to your thighs. Haechan watches with his eyes wide open, mouth parted in awe as he commits every bit of your curve and movement into memory. It feels so thrilling to be this wanted, to be ravished by his eyes, until you begin to struggle to push your clothing away from your legs.

“Need some help?” He asks, lips pursing as he tries to hide a grin. 

You exhale loudly, detaching yourself from him. “Let me just—” You jump off his lap, standing back with your feet on the ground, and kicking the clothing away with annoyance—why in the world did you have to wear shorts this tight—and slap him in the chest when he’s chuckling at the sight. 

“Maybe you should stop trying to be sexy too,” Haechan snickers.

“Shut up.” You crawl back into his lap. “Go back to staring dumbly at me like before. I’m naked.”

“I wasn’t staring like tha—oh,” he inhales sharply as you grind your heat against his cock, amazed at how warm you are despite your cold palms. The sensation of skin meeting skin feels much more different. There’s really no going back this time. Somehow, it feels dangerous, as if you’re doing something forbidden and it makes your skin crawl with excitement.

And by the look on his face, seems like he feels the same way.

“Lost for words?” You taunt him with a smirk, hands on his chest. “That’s new.” His glare is menacing but it falters away the second you rub your arousal against his. 

His head falls to his shoulder, eyes tightly shut. “God, baby…”

There it is again. The funny feeling in your stomach. “Baby?” You simper though your heart is palpitating like crazy. “We’re moving on to giving each other pet names now?”

If he can blush any harder than this, he probably might but with the way you’re grinding shamelessly on his cock, letting him get a glimpse of how wet and warm you are, he’s all maxed-out. 

His earlobe lays between your teeth when you whisper, “Shall we put it in?”

Haechan’s nails are sinking into the skin of your hips, both to hold you in place so you’ll stop torturing him and to press you down harder on his crotch. “I…” He’s so distracted, he can’t even think. The way the side of his length is pressing against your folds is pushing every little bit of self-control he has to the back of his head.

“Haechannie?” You giggle, moving your hips. “I kinda asked you a question here.”

“Yes, fuck, yes, please.” Haechan tries his very best to not sound that desperate for your touch but he is that desperate. “Wait—aren’t we—shouldn’t I wear a condom first?”

You blink, halting your movement. “You brought a condom with you?”

He nods as he leans forward, fingers searching frantically at the pocket of his jeans that hang low on his knees. “Here.”

“Why do you have a condom with you?”

“‘Cause I bought it downstairs just now.”

Your jaw grows slack at the realization. “Is that the reason why your hair was so messy and you were sweating when you barged in here? ‘Cause you ran downstairs, trying to find a condom?”

“I’m sorry, are you really complaining about this now?”

At the feeling of his member twitching underneath you, you sigh. “You’re right. Let’s discuss that later.”

It feels a bit awkward when you stand on your knees, giving him some space and wait until he finishes wrapping the rubber around himself. The silence that hangs between you is almost deafening that by the time he’s done and you fall back to his lap, sitting on his thighs, it feels like you have to start over again.

You diffidently smile. “Hey.”

Haechan is equally as embarrassed, mirroring your gesture. “Hi.”

“I guess we’re gonna have sex.”

“Guess so.”

Another few seconds pass by where you can only meet each other’s eyes, feeling your heartbeat racing louder and louder. It feels like you’re about to burst, honestly, but fortunately for you, Haechan leans in, his fingers tentatively caressing your cheek. “Can I kiss you?” He questions.

You melt under his gaze, his gentle touch, his honey-like voice. “Yes, please.”

Your lips start the connection and the rest of your body follows, fitting every curve of his perfectly like you were made for him. The way Haechan sighs against your mouth sends sparks of electricity all the way down to your toes and you don’t waste any more time. With his mouth latching on your breast, tongue flicking against your nipple, you lower yourself on him.

Haechan’s hold your waist tighter, eyebrows adjoined in the middle at the sensation, his moans muffled. He presses his spine back against the couch, admiring the sight of his member disappearing inch by inch into you. His eyes begin to droop when he’s completely sheathed inside, his bruised lips parted. He cups your cheek, kissing you softly on the corner of your mouth, making you shiver at the sudden tenderness. “I guess we are having sex,” he murmurs with a bashful smile.

You can’t help but laugh a little. “I guess so.” 

It starts slow, with you placing both hands on his chest and him swallowing his breath at the sight of you moving up and down his length. You hiss slightly at the friction, adjusting to his size. 

“Does it hurt?” He asks, tucking a few loose strands behind your ear. 

“A little.” You reassure him with a grin. “Relax, you’re not gonna break me.”

You expect him to send back a snarky remark but what he does is press his forehead against yours. “You’re so warm,” he whispers, tasting the skin that connects your shoulder to your neck. Something about his words, his sensual kiss and his tender touch makes you squeeze your walls around him and he clutches harder around you. He glides his hands lower to your hips, silently urging you to pick up the pace and you follow.

Breathing heavily, Haechan has his thumb grazing your lower lip. “You have such a pretty mouth,” he professes as if he was in a trance.

You seductively bite his thumb, still working your hips. “You’re saying that ‘cause I just sucked your dick.”

“Yes, that too, but really.” It’s as if he’s staring at a work of art, eyes twinkling with admiration. Sometimes, when you’re hitting the right spot and quiver around him, a small moan escapes his lips and you feel him twitching inside you. “It’s—ah—It probably doesn’t sound sincere when I’m saying this now, but I’ve always thought you had a pretty mouth. And lips. I’ve thought about your lips a lot.”

“Yeah?” You mouth against the sensitive skin below his ear, sinking harder on his length. “What else do you like about me?”

“Y-your voice—” You can actually feel him shivering. “You have such a—fuck—I just—I really love your moans.” 

You’re not sure whether he’s saying that because he’s so distracted with the way you’re breathing in his ear or he genuinely loves it. Either way, it’s a pleasure to know how much you’re affecting him with your actions. With a chuckle, you say, “You’re rambling, baby.”

“And your hair,” he adds, probably losing every bit of his self-control by this point. “I love your hair. Looks so soft.” Haechan cards his fingers through your strands. “Feels so soft.”

You hum in response, hoping that your flushed face doesn’t look as apparent as you think. “Anything else?”

“Your—” He shudders when you paint a mark under his collarbone. “Your ass.”

You stop, pulling away to give him a look and he whines at the loss. “My ass?”

“What—” The tips of his ears are turning red, steam practically coming out of them. “Why are you staring at me like that—you have a great ass!”

Teasing him is such a joy to you. “Then, let’s do it this way.” You part away from him, landing back on the carpeted floor so you can turn around, giving him the chance to ogle at your behind, before you ease yourself down onto his lap once more. 

“Fuck—” Haechan’s hisses, his hands going down to your hips again. The new position doesn’t allow you to meet his eyes but with the way he’s whimpering behind you, fingers trailing over the curve of your ass, the sensation increases.

“You okay back there?” You taunt smugly, chuckling a bit because Haechan sounds like he’s losing it. His nails are sinking into your skin and you just know that’s gonna leave a nasty bruise tomorrow. “You seem like you’re enjoying this way too—“ You’re interrupted by your own moans when he suddenly has one hand massaging your breast and another one sliding down your stomach to find your clit. “W-wait, Haechannie—”

“You’re such a tease,” he breathily whispers into your ear, his chest pressing against your spine as he leans forward, pulling you into his embrace. “Isn’t that supposed to be my job?”

His fingers are rubbing you in circles, making your thighs tremble. “You’re right.” You move your hips harder, going out of rhythm with how fast you’re going and Haechan sinks his teeth to your shoulder again.

At the sound of his name departing your lips in the most sinful moan he’s ever heard, Haechan curses. “Shit, you’re not gonna let me enjoy this longer, are you?”

“There’s always a second round, Haechannie.” You smirk, raising your hips all the way up in intention to slam it back down again but Haechan catches you and pushes you forward until you land on the coffee table, stomach pressing flat against the wooden surface. “What—"

“There’s always a second round, right?” His lips are brushing against your ear as he positions himself behind you. “Then I’m going all out.”

When he slams his hips in one swift motion, hard and deep, he knocks all the air out of your lungs. “Wait—” You choke out, can barely keep up with his pace. “Oh God—”

“Now, now,” he coos, his hand finding its way to your throat, fingers pressing against your veins. He raises your face, his chest completing the dip of your spine. “Don’t bring God’s name when I’m fucking you like this, baby.”

You can’t even find the strength to retort, eyes shutting tightly until you see stars behind your eyelids. It almost feels unreal how fast he can go from being awkward and tentative about all of this to raw and wild within a few minutes but Haechan has always been fast adapting to new situations and you have been teasing him way too much. It’s about time that he snaps. 

Haechan moves you down to the floor, forcing you to stand on all fours and you’re so glad you follow his lead. “Spread your knees. Bring your head down,” he instructs and you do as you’re told, extending your arms in front of you. Haechan has his hand on the dip of your shoulder blades, holding you still until you have no choice but to press your cheek against the carpeted floor, ass in the air. “Good girl,” he praises, kneeling behind you and rubbing his tip along your folds. “Ready, baby?”

He doesn’t wait for your answer.

With only a few minutes in, you know you’re getting close, you can feel it. He has switched from giving deep, hard thrusts to quick, shallow ones and it’s driving you insane. “H-Haechannie, I—” you whimper, “I’m close—”

And he knows it too, of course he does. He can tell by the way you’re clenching around him. But instead of going harder and driving you completely over the edge, Haechan suddenly laces his fingers with yours, his lips painting soft kisses from your nape down to your spine, his hips hitting another angle that feels just as amazing even when he slows down the pace. The intimacy surprises you as you don’t expect him to be this tender. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like you’re doing this out of sheer passion. With his palm covering the back of your hand, fingers slipping between yours, somehow, everything feels more sentimental, stronger, crossing the lines.

With a moan of your name, Haechan flips you to your back, fingers framing your face, lips meeting lips as he thrusts back in, gasping against your mouth. “I want to see your face,” he says when he pulls away, his half-lidded eyes boring into yours, thumb slipping between your lips. “Not sure if I’ve told you this before but…” He snaps his hips, and you tangle your legs around them in response, fingernails digging into his upper arms. “You’re so beautiful.”

The knot in your stomach untangles without warning and your orgasm hits you so hard, you nearly sob at the sensation. With the way you’re quivering and squeezing around him, Haechan follows right after, his face sinking into the crook of your neck, hips stuttering as he rides out his own orgasm.

***

With his jeans back on and his used condom thrown away to the nearest trash bin, Haechan joins you back on the carpeted floor as you still haven’t found the strength to get up and get dressed after that. He shamelessly lays his body down on top of yours, his cheek pressing against the valley of your breasts. “I’m spent,” he mumbles, feeling drowsy.

“Haechannie?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re heavy.”

“I know.” But he doesn’t get up, only moving his head slightly to press a tiny kiss to your bare chest before he lies his head down over your heart again. You give up with a smile, wrapping your arms around him, fingertips stroking his hair. Haechan sighs contentedly under your touch. “Man, that was…”

“That was?”

“Amazing.” He props himself up on his elbows so he can meet your eyes. “You’re amazing.”

Your heart jolts at the sincerity in his words but you cooly smile back. “I know.”

“And I’m amazing too, I’m sure?”

“Meh,” you shrug. “Could be a little better but I’ll let you practice on me for free.”

“Jesus Christ.” He shakes his head, his strands tickling your nose. “I don’t even have the strength to join your banter. You know, I’ve always wondered since you’re pretty much shit at everything, there must be something you’re good at. But I never thought that something would turn out to be sex. I can’t even believe I’m saying this but you’re really, really amazing at it. I feel like I should give you a medal or something.”

“Thanks,” you flatly mutter. “Not sure if you’re praising me, though.”

“Oh, I am praising you, believe me. And you know me, I rarely praise.” 

“Stop it,” you use your robotic voice. “You’re making me feel so special, I’m about to cry.”

Haechan playfully nips at your nose, forcing you to break off your act and laugh directly into his mouth. “Seriously,” he says, breaking off the kiss. “If I were to pay you for sex, I would give you everything I own. Even the clothes I’m wearing. Hell, I’d even sell my grandma but don’t tell her that.”

Your laughter has reduced into small giggles. “That’s comforting.”

“So…” The way Haechan is caressing your hair is so soft, almost like a mother to her sleeping child. “What should we do about this?” When you raise an eyebrow, he tensely adds, “Do you, umm… I mean, do you want to, like—”

“You’re rambling.”

“I know, God, I’m so nervous! I may look like a naughty, sexy bad boy—”

“No one is saying that—“

“But I actually suck at this—as in, I don’t really know how to date a girl.”

“You don’t even know how to talk to a girl, based on the conversations we’ve had,” you comment and you know it’s not helping but it’s worth seeing his adorable pout. “Then don’t date me. If it’s hard for you to date, then let’s just keep being friends—"

“But I want to continue this!” He says it so fast and firmly that you don’t even have time to feel hurt about your offer. 

It’s not like you crave a relationship with him—you haven’t thought about it that far—even just holding him like this is enough for now, so the fact that he’s so excited to have this going makes your heart swells with joy. “Well then, we’ll be friends who have casual sex anytime we want,” you suggest.

He blinks twice, a bit amazed at your offer, but to your surprise, he seems rather… disappointed? “What happens if we start catching feelings?” He quietly asks.

“Then I guess we’ll start dating for real.”

“Then…” He runs a hand through his hair, nervous. “What happens if I already have feelings for you?”

He states it so quietly, it’s a miracle you can even hear him. “Do you want to date me, Haechannie?”

He looks away, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Do you want to date me?” He murmurs against your skin, unsure and flustered.

You heave the heaviest sigh you’ve ever done in your life. “You’re unbelievable. I’ll decide for us then. Starting now, we’re dating.”

He lifts his head, and if he were a puppy, he would’ve had his tail wagging behind him, even when his face doesn’t show much. “That easy?”

“That easy. What, you have something to complain about?”

“No.” He grins, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “Hey, girlfriend.”

“Ugh, get off me, you’re gross.”

But no matter how hard you push your palm against his face, Haechan only giggles and turns you around so this time, you’re lying on his chest. “So,” he pushes a few strands of your hair behind your ear. “You like me, huh?”

“No, what makes you think that way?”

“Says the girl who just slept with me.”

“I slept with you ‘cause I was just curious about your dick. Jeno said you had a dick that was the size of his thumb.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Didn’t you see his InstaStory last night?” You reach up to gather your phone from the coffee table. “I took a screenshot of it actually. Man, you should’ve seen the comments. They’re hilarious.”

Snatching your phone away, Haechan runs his eyes along the words written on the screen. “That son of a bitch!”

Simpering, you sneak a peek under his boxer. “Well, he’s not wrong.” 

“Oh, it’s on,” he deadpans, throwing your phone away and pushes you back down on the floor. His eyes glinting mischievously. 

“What are you doing?” You’re still half-laughing when he brings your hands over your head, holding your wrists together with one hand as he settles between your thighs, his fingers hovering dangerously close.

“I’m gonna make you take your words back.” He wets his lip, one corner of his mouth turning upward. “Time for the second round, baby.” 

***

[barzzal]

between halls and thin walls → part three

summary: friends who fool around almost never work. almost.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: fingering, fem and male receiving, mentions of pornography, sexual/suggestive themes, swearing, mat not knowing how to eat pussy, anddd too much sneaking around i’m hating myself for it

↳ genre: fluff, angst, smut, roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+

↳ length: series; part one, part two, part three (8.6k), part four, part five, part six

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: god is fair, sexy nasty, cinderella, planet god damn by mac miller

note: so sorry for the wait! have been a lot busier with uni :(( took weeks for me to finally sit down and write on my laptop to finish this aaaah anw here’s the update and i’m making it up to yall i hope you like!! happy reading babies <3

“Wait–” you break off, your fingers already weaving through his ever so gorgeous hair. 

“What about Tito?” you fret.

You’re sure there was at least a hint of annoyance in his voice. Possibly irked that you had to ruin the one thing you both have been craving for for weeks.

“He won’t come home, trust me.” he says, lips already making its way back to touch your skin, nestling on your jawline, before trailing down to the intricate line of your neck, his movement hasty with a sense of hunger and urgency. 

You didn’t mind. It felt good. 

“Okay– no. Let’s stop this for a sec.” you try to snap out of it, pushing him away but just enough to keep him within arms reach. You rest both your hands on his broad shoulders whilst he rests his on your hips, just a few inches above your ass. 

“We need to clear things out.” you start, eyes lingering on his irises, making you wet your lips at the sight. 

“Didn’t we clear things out thrice now?” he quirks his brows, “And it kinda looks like we’re about to clear the same thing for the fourth time. What’s not clear about it?” Mat kids, half laughing as he lets you punch him playfully, “I’m not kidding, Barz.” you say, clearing your throat. 

You didn’t mind for any of his double entendres but you did mind the fact that whatever’s about to happen tonight is bound to tip the scales of whatever it was that you were having with Mathew.

“Fine. Let’s talk,” he agrees. He walks towards the bed just as he began pulling his shirt off over his head to undress himself.

“Mathew!” you call him yet again, earning yourself a defensive shrug from him, “What? We’re gonna have sex either way might as well talk while we’re at it, right?” he counters, “Now, take your clothes off.”

Regardless of being annoyed at him for acting like an unreasonable child engaging in too much banter, you let out a laugh in disbelief, letting Mathew’s quirks have a hold on you. You roll your eyes out but do as you’re told and begin taking your shirt off which you then throw his way. 

Mat whistles, a smirk sprouting off his lips, evidently in awe of how good you looked half-naked, “Wow.”

You cock up a smirk and shrug to play it off, “Well, you’re not so bad yourself.” you turn the compliment back which Mat only reciprocated with a taunting wink, brushing his shoulder briefly like an idiot.

“So. How do you want to play this?” you inquire.

“Naked, I hope.” he laughs, putting his sweats off revealing nothing but his boxers on. When he sees you roll your eyes, yet again, almost wondering if you’re going to bawl it out at any moment, Mat clears his throat and decides to dial down his terrible jokes. 

“Fine. Let’s just say we’re doing ‘Friends with Benefits’ or, you know, what was that movie again?” he thinks for a second, snapping his fingers as he gathers a few romantic comedies he’s seen in the past. “No Strings Attached! The one with Natalie Portman! Yeah, that’s the one.” he marvels.

You look at him quite stunned that he’s familiar with these movies. “Wow. I thought you guys are just into full-on pornography and sports.” 

“Hey!” he retorts, defending himself at once, “I’m speaking your language, dumbass. And for the record, I don’t like porn.” with that, you let out a loud laugh accompanied by a scoff, obviously not buying any of his lies. To which Mat jumps to defend himself the moment he sees the mocking look in your eyes, “What?? Not all men likes pornography, y/n.”

With both hands on your hips, you arch your brow at him and reply with a revolting grin, “First rule, no lying. I wasn’t born last night, Barzal.”

“Fine. I don’t like it like it.” he points out just as he averts your gaze, “But I’m certainly not against it. Those girls need to make a living, y/n.” 

You meet his cocky remark with an exasperated sigh, “You’re such a pig.” 

Mat answers with a shrug, letting your judgmental glares slide, “Call me names, I don’t care. You’re the one sleeping with a pig.”

And as if it had been expected all along, it didn’t take long for the both of you to end up in bed, wearing nothing but your skin, breathing in each other’s breaths, gasping as you let yourselves let loose with the company of a friend.

Mathew marvels at the sight of your heaving chest whilst his head was wedged in between your thighs, going on endless circles as he nibbles on your clit, perhaps trying a little too hard to make you meet your high. 

What the fuck is he doing? is probably what every girl has asked herself when a man goes down on her thinking that he already got her all figured out. 

Mathew knew what he was doing to be fair. He was there. For the most part. His fingers were nothing but magic but his mouth was a different subject. It was almost as if he was overachieving something. Kind of like the way he does during plays that would eventually cause them the game. 

He’s in his head a little too much. That’s for sure. You didn’t want to ruin the moment so you decide to let it slide and put on your best suit. After all, it wasn’t the first time you had to fake your sexual orgasms. You weren’t entirely surprised though. Half of the men you’ve gone out with didn’t know shit about eating pussy. And Mat was pretty, at least he had that going on for him.

You bit your lower lip, trying to suppress the fact that you weren’t enjoying it. Mat was doing all sorts of things at once and it was all too much. Too much that you’d rather finish the job yourself than have someone licking your region like a fucking chew toy.

As much as you didn’t want to, you arch your back and let out a fake moan, curling your fingers on the sheets, the other tugging on Mat’s hair, staging the perfect scene Mat had wanted to see. He emerges from below and hovers on top of you with a proud grin on his face, oblivious of the dramatic pin you’ve successfully put into the night. 

“And that, my friend,” he smirks, “is how you do it.”

Oh, believe me, it is not. You try to smile, “Hm. It’s that easy, huh?” 

“Well, yeah. Think of it like a scrimmage.” he says as he starts to pepper kisses on your cheeks, his hands roaming around your body, compensating for what his mouth missed. “Or a shootout even.”

“I’m thinking no.” you deny, “Rule two, if talking hockey is your definition of dirty talk, you better zip it.” you stress out as you prop your leg around his waist in order for you to move on top of him. 

Mat chuckles, trying to mask how much he longed to feel your mouth envelop his member. There hasn’t been a day where the image of you sucking his length didn’t enter his mind. It didn’t matter where he was. Whether he was in the shower, on the road with the boys, leaving for practice, or just tying his skates. He wanted nothing more than to look down at you as your little tears revolt to escape your doe eyes whilst you take him whole. Indeed, it was a sight for Mathew. And god knows how much he’s willing to give just to see it again. 

You spit just as you kiss the tip of his shaft, stroking his length in a circular motion to spread your saliva on his cock before you proceed on pressing gentle kisses on his head; edging him for not letting you cum— unconsciously wanting him to know how to give a goddamn head the right way. 

You patiently went your way as you began taking him in your mouth, inching down his thickness without breaking off of his dark and lustful gaze. Mat rests his head on the headboard, his breathing growing heavy and hoarse whilst he watches his dick be consumed by your hollowing cheeks, sucking the life out of him. 

“Fuck. You’re so good.” he groans, pulling your hair with his free hand before guiding you further down his dick. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Flattered by his praises which you find undeniably hot, you pop him out of your mouth, letting all your spit drip onto it just before gathering it back once you start licking him underneath, sucking on his balls as your tongue goes on little circles, playing with it for a while before letting it go with a loud pop. 

You watch Mat lose his mind with every movement you make but you know full well not to let him come in your mouth. It’s bad enough you didn’t get to come the first time he tried tonight. You won’t have yourself seeing the light of day high and dry while Mat gets to doze off the second you leave for his door. 

You climb on top of him. Mat was rather quick to let his hands find its way to your hips, your pussy sitting on his flat stomach just enough to let him know how wet you still are for him in spite of not getting the fun you’ve wanted for your own. 

“Where’s the rubber?” you ask him. Mat props himself quickly and carefully shifts towards his bedside table. You feel him on your back, poking on your skin whilst he pulls out one of the drawers. He fishes a wrapped condom straight from the box which he then swiftly opens with his teeth, motioning for you to get off of him first so he could get settled. 

“Ready?” you ask him, “Ready.” 

Mat rolls over and secures you in between his hands resting on both sides of your head. You feel his head poking against your abdomen as he finally takes his shaft to rub it in between you far too moistened slit just before he takes the plunge and dive deep.

“So,” you struggle to find the words as Mat finally starts making up for his loss a while ago. Your fingers envelop his nape, digging on his skin as you let himself adjust inside you. Stretching you whole with barely half his dick pushing through you.  Thank god this was one of the many things Mat definitely did not suck at. 

“Wanna walk me through this whole set up?” 

Mathew groans, his chest hard against yours as he pumps inside you at a steady pace; one that was pleasurably slow. One that had you closing your eyes whilst you let your head sink into his pillows. 

Despite working his way on tending to too many things at once, with his thumb brushing on one of your nipples, his lips attached to your earlobes, and his free hand secured on your hips, Mat whispers in your ear. “It’s like what we’ve agreed on that night.” he breathes heavily, his mind trailing off to that night momentarily before he speaks again, “We’re friends.”

“And?” you whine as you feel his wet lips brush briefly on your sensitive skin just enough to send chills up your spine, making you crave more of his touch; a grave wanting kindling inside your gut like fire.

“Friends…” he repeats in between kisses, “who likes to do this.” his lips travel from the corner of your lips and onto your jaw line. He then lets himself pull away just so he could look you in the eye, all whilst maintaining both your bodies moving in sync as you follow his lead. 

“You do know that things like this almost never work, right?” you honestly say, telling him the very same thing you’ve told him when you first crossed the line and threw everything you’ve progressively built with him throughout the years of being Anthony’s best friends. 

“Almost is good enough for me.” he counters with a husky voice, feeling constrained by how tight your pussy was around him. It had been a while and Mat was going insane just by thinking about how your cunt was made exactly for him. It was absurd for him to think such a thing but he would not deny the sensation coursing through his veins as if sex had become something entirely new to him. That you have miraculously been able to paint something far better than what he’s already gotten used to for who knows how long; luring him into the worst kind of addiction he could get himself into.  And although Mathew wanted to hate himself that it had to happen with you, he knew he couldn’t. 

“Let’s not have secrets,” he suggests. You raise both your brows, quite intrigued that he requested such a thing. “We’re not that close to have secrets, Barzal.” you remind him. 

“Exactly!” he cheers, voice briefly rising as you let out a moan escape when he pushes himself deeper through your heated walls. Mat hurriedly locks your mouth with his, swallowing all your moans before continuing with his case. 

“That’s the point. We’re not that close so we shouldn’t be keeping anything from each other. You tell me everything. Good or bad, and I’ll do the same.” 

You shoot him a questioning look, pushing him briefly so you could position yourself on top of him. Your action was very much well-received on Mathew’s end and it’s amazing how he’s able to lift you close to his torso before the two of you roll over the switch-game without letting his dick slip out of you. 

“Are you saying we’re going to be in a relationship? You’re way over your head, mister.” you laugh because it was exactly what it sounded. At least for you.

Mat rolls his eyes as he takes a pillow to support his back. His hands then roamed from your thighs before settling to cage your hips to lock it with his, “First of all, bold of you to assume that’s ever gonna happen.” 

You scoff.

“Second, it’s more of a mutual agreement and definitely less than a relationship.” he points out to reiterate that having said ‘relationship’ with you was the last thing he wanted. 

Your hands take rest atop his chest as you start working on rocking your hips at a gentle pace; the kind that had Mathew at a loss for words for a moment, his body taking over his mind as your physique towers all over him. Mathew meets you halfway while you do most of the work. He angles himself forward so as to reach for your tits, his mouth latching on one of your buds, thirsty like a newborn child. Your fingers find their way to his tousled hair, its disheveled state unbelievably making him much more difficult to resist. 

The two of you worked each of your own highs whilst you rock each other’s bodies. Exchanging moans and groans thrown carelessly throughout the room. You were all over Mathew as much as he was with you. His strong and capable hands that moved so well on your body, made you crave for more. Mathew took control of the pace now, his arms embracing your waist closer to his body that no amount of spatial space could ever be perceived by either of you.

“Come for me.” Mat orders, voice almost inaudible as he was chasing his own, the moment he feels you throb rapidly around him, fluttering like butterflies while he watches you shut your eyes. Just like that, you finally reach the ecstasy you’ve been longing for the whole night; one that was specifically shut down by Mathew’s stale mouth.

You let Mat take over. He orders you to turn your back against him before he pulls you rapidly close to his front, your ass perked up close to his skin. His mouth leaves fashioned bites on your neck whilst he held you firmly by your forearm. Mathew begins pounding on you hard from behind, his sharp and abrupt movements painting bruises you know will show up the next morning. 

You were all over the place and you didn’t care. It was messy, it was loud. The sound Mathew’s lips leave on your skin, his balls banging against your pussy, your moans— his groans. Everything was off the record book but neither of you wanted to stop. 

With one final thrust, you feel his body grow all the more rigid behind you. Mathew’s hand was wrapped firmly around your neck whilst he caught his breath. 

“You good back there, bud?” you ask, chuckling. 

“Oh, shut up.” he says, finally letting you go. 

The two of you gather yourselves. Mat discards the wrapper and offers to clean up after the mess he’d made but you profusely decline. 

“I’m not your girlfriend. You don’t have to take care of me.” you tell him with a strong suit as you begin picking up your clothes. 

“I know–” he cuts himself off when he sees you getting into your pants, “Where are you going?” he questions. 

“Rule four. No staying the night.” you point out, grabbing your sweatshirt from the floor. “You come to my room, I come to yours, but that’s that. No more, no less.” you add. 

Mathew looks stunned. Obviously on board with how well you were taking things so easily. 

“Alright then, buddy.” he strides his way towards his bed still naked. 

“We don’t speak about any of this in the morning.” you warn him for you know how the three of you tend to leave the house almost at the same exact time as each other. Meaning that this new setup of yours is bound to be much difficult if you let anything slip off your hold. 

Mathew runs his fingers on his lips as if to zip it before he jumps on the bed, already reaching for his phone that was on his bedside table so he could check the gram.

You were just on your way out of his door when he called you one last time, a teasing smile creeping on his lips, “What’s rule five?”

“No funny business.” you say at once. You look at him one last time with your own teasing smile to mock him from across the room, “No strings attached.” you say, repeating how he used the movie as a reference from a while back before finally disappearing into the hall. 

𖥸

Who would have known agreeing to such a set up would mean getting laid almost every chance you get?

It had been a few weeks since you and Mat committed to your foolish escapades after sorting out your mutual agreement. Said escapades involve a handful of times of you driving over to the Coli to pick him up right after his morning skate and get off the back of your car. It wasn’t that big of a deal being that Mathew usually rides with Anthony for work. Of course, there were also times where you would call him into your office just to grab a quick lunch. On those times you always make sure to leave out at least half an hour or so before going home to avoid unnecessary suspicions from Tito and you and Mathew have been mindful so as not to let him notice anything. 

Mat had mentioned how he was already looking for a place nearer to yours and Tito’s but farther than his previous complex. The place was half an hour less than the travelling time Tito had to drive to from when they used to ride together going home. And now that you were officially friends and more than just acquaintances, Mat has asked you to come and see the place with him. 

You took a lift on your way to Mat’s and let’s just say, that for a man with a whopping 21M at his disposal, the building was grand but it wasn’t as boujee as you’ve expected. It might’ve been your lack of a better judgement but Mathew just didn’t seem to be the kind of guy who would be smart when it comes to his finances. You’ve always thought that he was the kind to splurge on things whenever he gets the chance. Although much to your surprise, just like everyone else, he was a simple man. 

You knock on the door a few times before you hear the familiar footsteps nearing the front door. 

“Hey,”  a signature grin welcomes you. He opens the door wider and invites you in. “Took you long enough.”

“Well, I had better things to do, Barzal.” you retort as you start to scan the vicinity. 

The flat had floor to ceiling windows so the surroundings were well lit. You were making your way further when you noticed a few sealed boxes laying around what you assumed to be where the living space was going to be. 

“I thought you were just looking?” you ask, brows furrowed in confusion whilst you look back at him, pointing on the storages with your thumb. 

As expected, the entire apartment was painted in white and beige tones. Pretty much like every Islander’s home you’ve been to. It was quite spacious just like his former home. That being said, spacious doesn’t necessarily mean ‘good’ sometimes. For one thing, it didn’t feel home to you. It felt like a cage with huge-ass windows overlooking a scenery you can’t even lay your hand on. You keep your thoughts to yourself, not wanting to ruin Mat’s excitement for the place. Sure enough, it’ll all come together once he gets settled. 

Mat walks towards you, taking a deep breath. “I was. But the offer was really good so I figured signing the lease right away would be a smart move.” he explains. When he sees your gaze trail off onto the boxes again, Mat feels the need to reassure you that he wasn’t going to move out of your apartment just yet. 

“I won’t be moving in for another month or two, just to be clear. Those are just some stuff I didn’t want hogging all the space at home.” he says candidly pertaining to your apartment as his home, not even realizing the weight he had tied to his words. 

You were quick to dismiss your own unsolicited thoughts and carried on with the semi-tour Mat was starting to indulge you with. “Are you sure you’re gonna live here alone? Feels like a whole penthouse up here.” you honestly say, half-laughing as you make way towards the hallway. 

“Yeah. I mean, it would be great for when the team comes over.” he says as he follows your tracks. “The penthouse is actually two floors above mine though.”

You roll your eyes at his subtle remark, “Why’d you made me come here anyway?”

And as if Mat had remembered the task he originally had in mind, he walks right past you to lead the way. “I want your opinion on something.” 

“Really? What is it?” you inquire, following after his footsteps. Mat stops and opens a door leading to what you assume is the master bedroom. Situated at the center of the fairly spacious room is a california king sized bed, waiting patiently to be slept on. 

Mat looks back at you and says, “D’you think it’s any good?” 

He lets you roam around the place, setting yourself down on the foot of the bed. “Bed’s nice actually.” you tell him and you stand at once to look more of his semi-furnished room. 

“How nice is it exactly? Like, nice to sleep on or nice to not get any at all?” you turn around, rolling your eyes at his sleazy innuendos. “You’re such a tool. You really made me come all the way here to get me tied down this bed?” 

Mat only answers with a shrug. An adorable one to be exact. “What? That’s what friends are for, y/n. Now, come on. Test the bed with me.” he says, taking your hand at once before you could even answer. He lets himself fall onto the bed as he caught your weight in his arms, your bodies dangerously close to each other, feeling your own body temperatures. 

His hands roam around your clothed physique just as he starts to cage you in a well heated kiss. Your lips dance with his, letting his tongue slip whenever he gets the chance, nibbling on your tongue as the two of you enjoy exchanging your own take on what house warming gifts are supposed to look like. 

Mat’s hands were already gripping on the curve of your ass when the sound of your and Mathew’s kisses were stopped by a sudden knock on the door. Your hand immediately trailed down from Mat’s nape to his chest, “Are you expecting someone?”, he thinks for a second, both of his hands still secured on your bottoms.

“Oh!” he gasps upon remembering who could it possibly be, “It’s probably my realtor. He’s picking some stuff up, I’ll go get it.” he says, propping himself up as a cue for you to get off of him. 

“Would you mind getting the door? I’ll be quick, I promise.” he adds, looking back at you as he steps out of the room, heading for the other side of the hallway. He speaks in an apologetic tone, feeling sorry for having to cut off the purpose of your visit. So, in an effort to let him know he had nothing to worry about, you shake your head as you finish straightening the wrinkles off your work clothes. 

“No, it’s all right, I got it.” you give him a reassuring smile.

You gladly make your way towards the door, not even bothering to look through the hole. You hand enveloped the cold metal, swinging the door wide open, leaving yourself not a chance at escape as soon as your eyes landed on those all too familiar big blue ones you’ve known all your life.

“Y/N?” a puzzled expression was all you could make out of Tito’s face. You tried stumbling for a few words in the hopes of calming your already racing heart impending to escape your chest at any moment. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks in utmost bewilderment. You were still in shock being that you’ve never lied to Anthony before since he’s the only one you’ve told everything to most of the time. Having him here, clearly unexpected, has evidently thrown you off guard.

You maintain your gaze at him and throw the same question back, “What are you doing here?”

“Mat and I are going out with Mikey and Noah for drinks.” he answers quickly so he could throw the ball your way, “You didn’t answer me. I didn’t know you knew about this place already?” he furrows his brows, looking over your shoulder to get a glimpse of his best mate. 

“Uhm. Mat called me to discuss a few things. Showed me some stuff too.” you nervously say, tip toeing on the fact that what you just told him wasn’t entirely a lie. You open the door all the way and finally let him in. Your knuckles were wrapped hard around the cold metal knob, wishing that Mat would come out to the room to save your ass. 

You must have gotten on a wrong foot and told Tito a lie that’s bound to invite more suspecting queries.

“Really? What stuff?” 

His bed, where he was just about to defile me on. 

Thankfully, Mat walks out the open room holding an envelope in his hand, immediately halting his tracks the moment he sees Anthony looking straight at him. 

“Beau! What–” he tries to remain composed, but you know Tito would definitely pick up on something just by how pale Mat’s face was. Dead and cold like someone who had seen a ghost for the first time. 

“What— am I doing here?” Anthony finishes Mat’s question just as he turns his gaze back at you. You try to avert his gaze but you figured it’s best not to. You need to go before him strong and level headed. The last thing you and Mathew want is to get caught in the act by no other than the last person you want to know about it. 

“What?” He laughs, brushing Tito’s biting tone off. “I know why you’re here, silly.” he tries to search in his head momentarily, but when he takes long enough, Tito answers it for him. “Drinks, man. You texted me for drinks.”

“Oh– yeah, no. I knew that.” he breathes out an uneasy laugh. 

“Why is Y/N here? I didn’t know you guys hung out? The last time I checked you can’t even last in the same room without slashing each other’s throats.” he smirks.

Surprisingly, Mat was fast enough to come up with quite a clever way to sway Anthony from his inkling suspicions. One that made sense, but not necessarily helpful in your end. “Psh. That?” Mat throws a hand towards your way, dismissing your presence in his unfurnished apartment, “She told me she needs money so I hired her to move my boxes for me. She even insisted on listing all the stuff I’ll eventually get rid of online.” 

Anthony looks back at you, surprised that you didn’t go and asked for his help instead. “How much do you pay her?” he asks Mat again. 

“Uh, five… ten bucks?” Mat scratches the back of his head and your face immediately falls to your palm. 

“Ten?” he questions, glancing at you. “Don’t you have your own office and a secretary? What do you need the ten bucks for?” Tito’s tone was now getting more curious and Mat, just like he always was, was dumb enough to forget you were earning more than just ten bucks for a living. 

“Did I say ten? I meant fifty— per hour.” Mathew takes it back instantly, following it with a lie that involves you asking him for a job because your publisher ordered you to for a book she wants you to sign for. Not that any of it made sense but at least Anthony seemed to have bought it. When you agree, Mat immediately takes Anthony in his arms as he guides him out to the door, snatching his coat resting atop his kitchen island. 

Mat looks over to you once more, both of their bodies already at the other side of the door, “You did great today, y/n. I’ll write you a check in the morning!” he says pushing Tito, who was still asking questions, farther from the door. 

Before Mathew disappears, he looks at you with his big doe eyes already thanking you for going along such a stupid make-up excuse. You roll your eyes as you watch him mouth a quiet ‘Sorry’, flashing his ever so gorgeous smile before him and Tito finally went on their way.  

𖥸

You’ve gotten used to how lazy Mat and Tito are during their off days. They would rather stay at home and play endless video games with each other than spending it with something less dumb than their stupid Xbox. Luckily, today wasn’t like those days because you happened to have your free day as well. You all agreed to spend the evening binging the entire Fast and Furious franchise. 

The three of you were cramped on the cloud couch. To put it in simply, you were sandwiched between two huge hockey players. Your back was leaning on Tito’s strong shoulders as it was laying just above your head. The huge bowl of half-eaten popcorn safely sits in between your middle, hugged by your stomach and your curled up legs, your sock-covered feet brushing against Mat’s thighs innocently. Almost as innocent as how you ignore Mathew’s hands creeping underneath the thick wool covering your body. 

Alarmed at how dangerously close Mat’s creeping palm was to your inner thigh, you shot him a warning look which was, as expected, answered by a defensive, and seemingly harmless “What?” look on his face. You roll your eyes, cautious as to not make any sharp movements for the benefit of Tito. You shift your position, angling your body away from Mathew and towards the direction of the screen instead. You let your body sink in your best friend’s shoulder, clueless that your movement had just given Mat the exact opening he was hoping for. 

With wide eyes, you give Mat’s thigh a firm nudge as carefully as you can, “Are you being serious right now?” you mouthed. Mat stifles a smirk and moves his hand away, keeping it to himself. You try turning your attention back to the television but somehow, Mathew’s actions left your mind wondering what he was about to do next. 

Gently, you stir back to your original position, propping yourself from leaning against Tito. 

“Hey, could you please fill this up for me?” you ask him nicely. Thankfully, Anthony reaches out for the bowl without letting his eyes break off the screen. “Thanks, Beau.” you add the moment he starts walking towards the kitchen. 

“Why’d you stop?” you cautiously whisper, asking Mathew who was surprised by your sudden inquiry.

“I thought you didn’t want me to.” he answers on the same level of your tone, putting his hand back on your shin. The warmth of his palm sends a familiar sensation down your region.

Looking back at the archway leading to the kitchen, you quietly tell him, “I asked if you’re being serious. I never said no.” 

Your candidness was met by Mathew’s widening smile, incapable of stopping himself from biting his lower lip, finding your bluntness quite adorable. “Be quiet.” he mutters as he clears his throat, eyeing Tito who was just returning from the kitchen holding a bowl full of popcorn fresh from the microwave. 

“Thank you.” you say the moment Anthony hands you the bowl. You scootch over, making you a lot closer to Mat. Tito places his arm back over the couch, allowing extra space for you. Once you got yourself in a position comfortable enough to last for the remaining half of the movie, your mind flies away, briefly forgetting the exchange you and Mathew just had. 

It was not even a full minute when you feel Mat’s very much capable hand start creeping underneath the thick cloth again. You swallow a giant lump in your throat, your senses already heightened just by the mere contact of his rough and calloused hand on your skin. 

You were wearing a pair of sweat shorts, the kind that were loose enough to let Mat maneuver his way deeper down your thighs so effortlessly. You steal quick glances towards his way but to no avail, Mat’s eyes were nowhere else other than the screen. His fingers, however, told quite a different story. 

You did the exact thing as him and put your sole focus on the movie. The sound of Anthony’s breathing was a good reminder to not let anything slip off of you unconsciously, especially now that Mat’s long fingers were inching its way to the thin fabric covered by your night wear. 

Mat begins to brush his middle finger over your delicates. You bury a part of your face underneath the thick cloth whilst your eyes are still pinned on the screen. The scene where Dom goes rogue plays and the light of the television flashes before your eyes. 

You tried to listen to Tito when he tells you about that time you went to the movies to see the film, trying to space out from Mat’s finger drawing idle circles on the thin fabric of your underwear, easing you just right, evidently taking his time fondling in between your clothed lips.

When he feels your moistness on his skin, Mat sophisticatedly slides a finger in your underwear just so he could feel the wetness of your folds. 

You on the one hand, keep your face hidden under the only light flashing from the screen. You manage to choke down your whimpers and instead lean your force towards the bowl you’re holding. However, you fail to stifle a gasp when Mat slides a finger inside you, making you stir just enough to stop your sudden movement from being unnoticed by Beauvillier. 

“You okay?” he asks, a concerned tone embracing his voice. You meekly nod, saying that you were just too caught up watching the film. He then takes his attention back, pretty much like the grinning Mathew sitting on the other end. 

You shoot a knowing look when you meet Mat’s irises. He casually plays it off just as he remains busy on his own, his fingers curling inside you with ease, pumping in and out at a slow pace, not wanting to let any of his movements show on the surface of your blanket. As Mat continues pleasuring you, you gather all your strength to stay still and calm your breathing. To no prevail however, knowing how good of a fucker Mat was, you knew you won’t be able to hold it in longer than you’re supposed to. 

Your heart almost beats right out your chest when Anthony’s phone starts to ring. You prop yourself up, causing Mat’s finger to do just the same inside you. You shut your eyes at the feeling and chose to clear your throat. 

Anthony takes his phone and looks at the two of you, “I need to take this. Just watch the movie without me.” he says, already standing to head for the balcony at the other side of the room. You sigh in relief, letting yourself fall back on where Tito used to sit, allowing more space for Mat’s miraculous fingers. 

He adjusts his seat, cautiously looking back after Tito’s track just to make sure he was no longer near the two of you. He looks at you, attention faltering from the screen as he slides another finger inside you. 

“Don’t make a sound. Stay still.” he orders, pumping his way in just as he glides his thumb to massage your clit. Your hand takes rest on your forehead, your eyes closed at every pleasure thrown your way, almost forgetting that you were holding a bowl full of finger food on your stomach. Mat must’ve caught on and ensured no unnecessary noises would make Anthony come back just yet when he takes the bowl off your middle to set it down the coffee table. 

“Fucking hell, Mat.” you can’t help but moan, arching your back once you feel your arousal come close. 

“Do it, y/n. Come on my fingers.” he growls in a low register, moving his way into hitting the spot at just the right speed, not wanting to prolong your misery any longer. 

You reach for his hands, your grip on him tighter than ever. Mat feels you come around his finger, eyes pinned on your spent up state harder than it was when the two of you were still watching the movie. When he feels your pulsating core starts to die down, he slips his fingers out your slit, eventually taking it in his mouth to suck your far too addicting juices.

You fix yourself up, eyeing Tito who had just ended his call. Mat looks at you, quite proud of himself.

“At least your fingers make up for what that pretty mouth can’t.” you say with a taunting smirk before standing up to get yourself a glass of water just as Beau finally comes back from the balcony, leaving Mathew with his mouth slightly agape and without a doubt dumbfounded.

𖥸

It was an hour before midnight but the house was already asleep. The boys had to call the night early because of the morning practice they have first thing tomorrow. But you still had some energy left so you figured drawing yourself a calming bath would help soothe your mind and maybe even up the chances of having yourself a well-deserved good night’s sleep. 

Now that you’re feeling better and getting ready for bed, your bathrobe hugs your body whilst you finish off your night routine so you could finally dip into the comfort of your sheets, the cream white duvet calling onto you as you picture yourself dozing off for the night. 

The strides you were just making out of your bathroom were put into a stop by how your door sprung open wildly, revealing one troubled Mathew Barzal entering your room almost a little too carelessly. 

“What the hell did you mean my mouth can’t?!” he questions at once, hissing. When he realizes the sudden rise in his voice, (which has also startled you in the process), Mathew immediately looks back just to make sure that Anthony was in his room, or far enough to hear. He shuts the door behind him before he finally turns his attention back to you. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” you ask him, putting both your hands on your hips, your body covered by nothing else but a bathrobe. 

“The thing you said back in the living room, my mouth can’t what? What the hell did that suppose to mean??” Mat roars like a child’s impending tantrum was about to come. You avert his gaze for a moment, scratching your temple. You couldn’t believe something you’ve said stuck to him. Not that he’d ever do anything about it. Something you most absolutely doubt. 

“If you had to come here to ask me that, I’m pretty sure you already got what I meant.” you say, walking towards your bed as you get the bottle of your vanilla scented lotion from your bedside table. 

“But all those times it looked like you were having a good time?” he speaks, voice in a lower register as if he was talking to himself all along. 

“I was faking it Mat.” you finish off applying lotion on your legs, spreading the remaining on your hands. You met Mat’s gaze and saw that you might’ve tipped him off a little for there was a faint hurt in his eyes. 

“You were faking it?” he repeats in a quiet voice.

“You’re still good in bed, buddy.” you assure him with a smile yet to no prevail, Mat didn’t seem to buy any of what you said thinking that it was just a decent effort to save his ego already plummeting to the pit of his own embarrassment. 

“How many times have you been faking it?” he asks the moment he gathers his thoughts, his mind circling on the fact that all throughout this time he wasn’t able to get you off.

“You’ve only had the chance to do it twice. So… just those two.” you answer honestly. 

Mathew, who was utterly clueless to what was going on didn’t know how to react to such bluntness. He tried to mutter a few words but he was speechless. All this time, he thought he was good at something he obviously wasn’t. And being told something as morally immobilizing as that shocks him to his very core. The horror of all the girls he’s slept with, walking out of his apartment unsatisfied befalls on him. 

“You should’ve told me, otherwise this whole setup won’t make any sense, y/n. I thought you said we shouldn’t lie?” he questions, evidently disappointed in himself. 

“Look,” you stop, tapping on the side of the bed to have a proper conversation. When Mat finally sits beside you, you continue, “I didn’t think it mattered. And no offense but we both know you’re such a sore loser. I didn’t know how you would react. And I definitely didn’t want to deal with any of the messy stuff just to feed your ego.”

“For your information, I’m a thick faced motherfucker, you should’ve known that by now. This thing between us is going to be complicated if you’ll tiptoe your way around it just to spare my feelings.” he says with certainty, a definitive tone accentuated by how intense he was now looking at your face, still glowing from your night care routine. 

“Is there something I don’t do?” he adds, “Or is it something that I should stop doing?”

“Fine. If you really wanna talk about this I’ll tell you.” you angle yourself facing him and Mat does the same, “You’re not entirely bad. You do know your way around. It’s just that— you’re trying a little too hard and it gets really overwhelming at times. And mind you, it isn’t even the good kind,”

“Show me.” Mat cuts you before you could grab the chance to continue, stopping you mid sentence, causing you to stumble on a few words. “What?” 

“I won’t leave this room knowing I can’t get you off.” he says, and just like that, Mathew meets your lips with an all too hungry mouth eager to make you come for him even if it takes having to have endless runs at it. 

Your body achingly responds to every bit of Mathew’s kisses whilst you let him run the course. His touches are tantalizing, urging you to come near him. He takes you in his arms, one fondling on your robe to pull it free from your body, the other tugging lightly on your hair just as he begins to move his weight on top of you.

“Tell me what you want.” Mat breathes the moment he breaks away, his mouth now travelling down the skin where your shoulder meets your neck, leaving faint bites, nibbling on it just before he makes his way down to fondle on your breasts. 

You answer him with a muffled moan when he takes your lips yet again. Mat’s irises unwaveringly gazes on your buck nakedness, your scent just enough to take over his senses. You feel the roughness of his hands graze all over your skin. Pinching on one of your buds just before it travels down your thighs, staying out of the place where he knew you needed him most. You feel him in every inch of your skin but there.

But just as you want him more, Mat purposely leaves it out of his hold. You begin to realize how much you must’ve underestimated what this forward could do. His hands were everything and you couldn’t even put into words how much you need him down there. 

“Mat…” you call out his name, groaning. His featherlight touches flowed smoothly on your inner thigh, grazing just your lips but even that was more than enough to tell him how wet you already were for him. 

He begins to leave wet kisses in between your breasts down to your stomach. Kisses that eventually made their way to your thighs as he inched his way to your core, the sloppy noise he makes sounds so beautiful in your ears. You look down on Mat trying to compose yourself under all the breathing he’s subtly passing your middle. 

“What do you want?” Mat asks again, this time his doe eyes meeting yours, clouded with lust and desire. You buck your hips upward in an effort to meet his mouth but Mat was rather quick to put you back in your place when he cages your hips with his capable arm. 

“Use your words, y/n.” he orders, one that has effortlessly made you oblige. You wanted to feel him more than anything else and if that meant submitting to Mat this time, you know full well you’d gladly break before him. 

“I want you to get me off.” you surrender, signaling him to take the plunge. Once he did, you let out a whimper at his touch, almost forgetting that Mathew was probably doing this so he could eat out his future girl right.

“Don’t rush.” you breathed as you guided him, “Stay slow and steady.” 

Mathew’s eyes never left yours even when you had to look away when you let your head fall back on your sheets with how well he was moving with everything you say. 

“Mathew…” you moan, reaching for his hair to take him closer to your throbbing core, “Go on circles, please.” 

Mat was obedient and followed your every command. Unlike the times he’s spent trying to pleasure you with his mouth, tonight was a time where he actually listened and gave you exactly what you wanted, exactly how you want it.

Mat didn’t have to do anything else for when he started to slip into your cunt and fuck you with his tongue, you going insane was more than enough to let him know that he was doing it right. He watched you fall before him, your chest heaving, your breathing rapid as if there wasn’t enough air for you to breathe. He entwines both his fingers atop your abdomen, the sound of you calling his name like a prayer doing all kinds of wonders on his end. 

You meet his eyes yet again just to see that it never left. Mat looked at you darker than ever before and for once, you feel a firm tug in your stomach you just weren’t ready to acknowledge and care for. As he takes time with his final strokes, knowing that you were close, Mat pulls away, thinking about the one thing he knows will redeem himself. 

“Turn around.” he orders with a grim voice. You were in dire need of an orgasm to even care about how he’s the one ordering you. You gladly oblige to his every whim and turned to your belly, your ass perked up so perfectly for him.

He lets your robe fall just above your back, revealing more of your skin for him to enjoy. He takes no second to waste and kneels before your already swollen pussy. Needy and very much heated for him.

Mat’s hands spread your cheeks before he takes you in his mouth once again, letting himself drown in your juices glinting under his all too heavy gaze. 

“Oh, god.” you whine, feeling Mat’s grin behind you as you dig into your sheets while your legs begin to shake at your incoming orgasm. “Mat, please.” you call out in a whimper, pushing your ass back further his face. 

Mat gladly takes the challenge but maintains at the pace you wanted. As he feels your pussy flutter in his mouth, he deepens it into yours to finally pour you with nothing else but ecstasy and ecstasy alone.

His face was filled with nothing but your juices once he pulled away, leaving you breathless and still caught up on meeting your high. He stands, a hand gripping on one of your cheeks whilst he admires the art that is: your all too spent pussy.

“Next time you lie, you won’t get to fake it at all.” he warns with a firm yet definitive voice masked as a taunting remark. 

Mat looks at your still throbbing pussy, eyes lustful and dark. As much as he craved for the inkling fire resting in his loins, it was already past midnight and he had self-discipline stronger than anyone else’s. He couldn’t afford any more scolding from Anders the next morning. 

So, even when he wanted nothing but to fuck you right then and there, he lets his hand send a message he certainly wants you to remember instead. One that has left a faint yet stinging mark on your skin. Your legs were practically still wobbling when he finally leaves for the door, this time fueled with the purpose of being the one leaving you dumbfounded in your own post-orgasm shame.

Perhaps, even wanting and more.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 302: As the Todoroki Turns

Previously on BnHA: 

Today on BnHA: We have a very fun chapter in which (1) Shouto grows up lonely on account of his parents being worried that his siblings will literally try to kill him, (2) Natsu and Fuyu grow up neglected on account of not being special and/or self-destructive enough to attract attention, (3) we get to revisit all of that exciting spousal abuse from chapter 39, and (4) Touya burns to death right on cue, pretty much exactly like we expected it to happen. Thankfully since this is a shounen manga, Horikoshi finds some hope in all this misery as the Todoroki family rallies together, with Shouto getting his long-overdue credit for being a perfect sweet angel who put up with all of this shit for sixteen years and somehow came out of it strong and kind and empathetic and determined. Anyway, so that flashback was a barrel of laughs. But now that it’s over, we can put all of that angst behind us, and move on to... well I guess, probably, more angst. Look, we’re short on variety at the moment. Bear with it.

ouch. we knew this was coming, but still

A+ parenting move there. “ho boy, our eldest just tried to murder our youngest, now what? hmm how about we isolate our youngest from all human contact”

though in their defense, we probably shouldn’t have expected this rabidly strength-obsessed fire man and his wife who was groomed since childhood to obey her family’s whims to have any idea of how to raise stable, well-adjusted offspring

SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS

this is a perfect example of Enji’s tragically self-revolving viewpoint right here. just because being a hero is your entire world doesn’t mean you can just excuse yourself from anything outside of that and act like it’s out of your control. “alas, all I care about is hero stuff and my son can’t be a hero, we are doomed to inhabit two different worlds” no you jackass, it’s called having more than one hobby?? figuring out how to spend some time with your son that doesn’t involve training?? the same exact thing you were telling him to do last week, while ignoring that you’ve never done that yourself in your life??

that said, yet again we have that complexity though because it’s obvious that Enji at least on some level is aware of his own flaws, even though he seems unwilling or unable to confront them. honestly, from what we’ve seen so far, Enji’s obsession with surpassing All Might might be more accurately called an addiction. he literally can’t let go of it even though he’s fully aware of how it’s slowly destroying his life. and so in the same way that a lifelong smoker or alcoholic might tell their child to stay away from cigarettes and booze, Enji tells Touya not to follow down the same path as him, even though he himself doesn’t know how to leave that path. so yes, it’s hypocritical as fuck, but there’s also an element of helplessness there as well because Enji literally doesn’t know how not to be like this

though all the same he sure could stand to put in more than just a token effort. but it is what it is, and we already know how much he’ll come to regret it

and meanwhile Baby Shouto has frozen his sleep bubble with his quirk lmao. so I guess his quirk did come in early. that’s a recipe for chaos right there

once again Shouto is ruining every single dramatic panel in this flashback

this was so dark and intense... and then I spotted the lil bubs in the corner. Horikoshi please control yourself

“some hero you are, running away” and then all of a sudden, “FIVE YEARS LATER” lol what. OKAY THEN

(ETA: love the confirmation that eight-year-old Natsu comes from the Iida school of puberty and is basically a fully grown man, and meanwhile Touya comes from the hobbit school of puberty and has been perpetually eight for the past five years.)

“HEY BIG BRO WANNA COME RECREATE AN ICONIC FLASHBACK SCENE WITH US. WE’VE GOT THE SOCCER BALL RIGHT HERE, BUT HURRY UP OR WE’LL BE TOO LATE FOR SHOUTO TO WALK ON BY AND STOP TO LOOK”

lol and that’s literally the next three panels. but Horikoshi did add this extra bit after Endeavor starts to drag Shouto away

seriously Enji what the hell did you expect was going to happen here. “Touya went nuts and tried to kill his little brother out of jealousy, so let’s make it clearer than ever that Shouto is the important child and all the other children are just rejects. this will definitely not make the problem 100x worse, and will surely lead to Touya giving up and living a happy life, having been emotionally abandoned by the person he admired more than anyone.” good for you pal you figured it all out. no need for that plan b, “we all just go to therapy”

anyway so he’s telling Shouto he can’t play because he needs more endurance training. and meanwhile Touya’s patented Todoroki Drama Genes are going through puberty as well

definitely the face of a happy, emotionally stable child who’s not still plotting to murder his younger brother in his sleep

“WELL ACTUALLY MAKESTE” lol I stand corrected??

apparently during the five year interim Touya actually stopped blaming Shouto and realized Enji was the one at fault. good for him! a bit inconsistent, given what we know happens later, but I assume we’ll get to that in good time

anyway. “yeah man I agree that dad sucks, but it’s the middle of the night and I’m only eight and you’ve been monologuing for the past two hours bro”

LMAO

the manga is making my jokes for me, only better. fine then

looks like someone’s still miffed about that disagreement he had with his baby sister back when she was like four

“Fuyu doesn’t get properly riled up like I want her to so ranting to her is annoying.” okay but having been in Fuyu’s shoes, it really is just a different way of coping, and I can guarantee she’s not as fine with the whole situation as Touya might think. but making your peace with something is often a decision that’s made for emotional self-preservation reasons. and I sure as hell don’t fault her for trying to shut out a situation that she had no control over, and trying to make the best of it, and scrape together as normal a childhood as she could manage

and now in Touya’s defense as well, that is of course easier said than done, and I’m sure if there was a “push this button and instantly get over all of the trauma in your life” switch readily available for Touya then he would have pushed it too. unfortunately it’s not always that simple

so now Rei is pleading with Touya not to go train up on his little emo hill again, but it doesn’t seem like much has changed since he was eight

I don’t think he gives two figs about being a hero; he just wants his father to look at him again with pride. fucking hell, stop doing this to me you damn Todorokis

guh, they keep telling him the same thing over and over again

even if we hadn’t already known he was gonna go melt his jawbone off soon, I wouldn’t have expected a line like that to go over well

yep. fuck

that Todoroki puberty angst, though. nothing else quite like it

“you have a part in this too, Mom” ooooooh man

okay but look, he’s not entirely wrong. like, I’m not saying any of this is Rei’s fault at all! she’s in an impossible situation where she’s afraid to stand up to Enji (who by this point has shown that he’s willing to physically attack her if things get too heated, which is terrifying), and doesn’t really have anywhere to turn for support. her parents aren’t helping much if at all, and Japan in general is just a terrible country to be in when you’re in a domestic abuse situation. everyone’s expected to put on a brave face and deal with their problems all on their own in private. Rei is basically completely isolated at this point, and she doesn’t know what else to do, and so she’s just trying to keep the situation as stable as possible for the kids

but on the other hand, “for the kids” is also where that argument starts to break down a bit, because at this point Shouto is also being physically abused by his father, and the other kids are continuing to be neglected (emotionally if not physically), as they have been for years. so the situation really isn’t stable at all for them. and as a kid, what you end up learning in that type of situation is that you can’t rely on either parent. not the abusive one, certainly, but also not the other one who can’t protect you from any of it. even if they love you and they’re trying, they’re just as helpless as you. Rei is struggling to deal with all of this with one hand tied behind her back, and I get it, and I’m not blaming her at all. but all the same, particularly given that she’s (understandably) putting almost all her focus on Shouto, the end result is that the other kids have basically been left to fend for themselves

so yeah! a shitty situation all around. and one of those cases where it’s not really anyone’s fault (aside from Enji’s), but I can understand the resentment Touya is feeling all the same. and I’m so glad Horikoshi is acknowledging this, because it’s something I probably would have been too uncomfortable to bring up otherwise. as it is it’s still an incredibly heavy subject, and one that I probably have too many personal feelings about

anyway, so once again the whole “we’ll try talking to him and then just shrug our shoulders when it doesn’t work” parenting strategy doesn’t really pan out for the Todoroki fam

sob this boy is Anakin Skywalkering before our very eyes. all that’s missing is AFO to come and start whispering in his ear. any minute now...

“anyway so then he got taller and his fire changed from red to blue”

guess we’re getting pretty close then huh. this is the part of the flashback that I really don’t want to see, but also unfortunately the part that I’m most curious about :/

oh for fuck’s --

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IGNORING HIM FOR FIVE YEARS DIDN’T ACTUALLY DO ANYTHING TO SOLVE THE PROBLEM” sob. back to the drawing board I guess

I thought he got taller, why is he still only like a third of Enji’s height here

oh fuck me these are armor-piercing feels. this is the heavy artillery right here

ENJI I’M BEGGING YOU PLEASE STOP AND THINK FOR ONE MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE BEFORE DOING SOMETHING YOU’LL REGRET FOR THE REST OF ALL TIME. your child just told you that he still thinks beating All Might is the only thing you care about, and that he believes his existence is a mistake unless he finds some way of doing that for you. please stop for a moment to contemplate that and choose your next words with care and grace and oh who the hell am I kidding

-- OR WE COULD JUST BLAME REI

go on and blame everyone but yourself then!! that’s a great solution!! jesus christ man I know this is Endeavor at his literal worst but still this is fucking hard to watch

POOR BABY SHOUTO IS YELLING AT HIS DAD NOT TO HIT HIS MOMMY THIS LITTLE BRAVE BOY NEEDS SO MANY HUGS OH MY GOD

AND MEANWHILE THE OTHERS ARE HUDDLED IN THE NEXT ROOM TRYING NOT TO CRY AH FUCK

(ETA: Fuyu covering Natsu’s ears cuts RIGHT TO THE CORE OF ME. Horikoshi if you’re really not gonna get these kids some therapy then at least consider giving your readers some. what is this.)

you know it’s bad when you’re starting to think the part where the kid burns to death might actually be a less traumatic thing to cut to right now

holy shit, actual Rei thoughts

“I was the one who ultimately made that choice” well there we go, wonder if that’ll put that whole argument to bed at last. I doubt it, but you never know. actually who am I kidding it’s not gonna settle jack shit lol

oh thank god, they decided it was getting too intense and cut away back to the present to narrate this next (final?) part

get ready to cue up that Alicia Keys. THIS BOY IS ON FIREEEEEEE

yeah I think that’s one thing we can mostly all agree on. neither of them had any clue what the fuck they were doing pretty much at any point. though I will say that the hypocrisy of him being all “WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP HIM” followed by him IMMEDIATELY DOING THE EXACT SAME THING is a bit rich

(ETA: and he still has this problem, doesn’t he? he froze up when Ending snatched Natsuo, and again when Dabi was attacking Shouto. he’s so afraid of doing the wrong thing that he ends up not doing anything, which of course is exactly what led to Touya’s death. damn Enji I guess you’ve still got some additional character development to unlock.)

and of course neither of them could possibly have known how badly it was going to turn out. like, the consequences here were WAY disproportionate even for the shittiest of parenting. no one expects “I didn’t know how to talk to my son” to snowball into “my son burned to death and then somehow came back as a villain and murdered thirty people”

ohhhhhhhh fuck me

LITERALLY INCINERATED THE ENTIRE HILLSIDE. fuck. and I am so not ready for the scene of Enji finding the remains of his jawbone afterwards. at least we were spared anything super-graphic (for now at least)

I feel like the timeline here is off, btw?? wasn’t Touya’s death supposed to happen after Rei got hospitalized? this might be the first actual retcon of the entire flashback. although I think it makes more sense this way tbh

I do appreciate that ten years later Enji is finally reflecting on the fact that if he’d just given up his stupid obsession he could have stopped his family from crumbling apart. that probably sounds sarcastic as fuck, but it’s not. there are countless jerks out there who would have still managed to find a way to blame literally everyone and everything under the sun except for themselves. at least he finally figured out how to take responsibility, even if it came too late to stop his son from dying and being radicalized into a villain terrorist organization

and speaking of, it seems to me we’re missing a third and final part to this little tale of woe, and one which only Touya himself will be able to shed any light on. so we’ll see how that goes

oh man seeing the other kids blaming themselves even though none of it was their fault hits hard af. Rei wasn’t kidding when she said they’d been bearing that burden of guilt far longer than Enji

SHOUTO I SWEAR TO GOD IF THE NEXT PANEL IS YOU APOLOGIZING FOR BEING BORN, I WILL... WELL I’LL BE VERY SAD, I GUESS. SO DON’T DO IT

oh good he’s just being quiet. good. it absolutely is not your fault lil bean. it’s not theirs either, but feeling guilty about things that aren’t your fault is a time-honored shounen tradition

goddammit I braced myself for the angsty Shouto panel a page too early. gotta do it all over again now lol. okay here goes

;_;

well well well would you look at that

imagine that. talking things out with your child before they make a rash decision. looks like the Todorokis’ parenting skills are finally leveling up

OH MY GOD

holy shit. this is the most quintessential moment of father/son Todoroki bonding in the entire series. for me it even tops the “nice scar” scene lol. Enji sobbing at the fact that he still has a chance to set things right. and Shouto offering his hand in what is actually the most mature and selfless gesture I’ve ever seen, and being all “we’ll stop him together” to his dad who he hates, but also doesn’t really entirely hate anymore. and all of that is incredibly moving... BUT ALSO HE STILL REFUSES TO MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HIM AND HE WOULD LIKE HIM TO STOP BEING SO FUCKING DRAMATIC ALREADY IF YOU DON’T MIND. “WHEN YOU’RE DONE CRYING...” fkjldsk

OH MY FUCKING LORD

(ETA: wouldn’t be a Todoroki drama fest if there wasn’t somebody listening in on the whole thing in secret just around the corner lmao.)

“you think we should have waited somewhere else?” “yeah, probably.” “are you feeling a lot of secondhand embarrassment too?” “god, you have no idea.” STFU HAWKS IT’S NOT EMBARASSING TO BE MOVED TO TEARS BY YOUR FAMILY ALL COMING TOGETHER IN YOUR DARKEST HOUR TO GIVE YOU HOPE THAT YOU PROBABLY DON’T DESERVE BUT ARE NONETHELESS INDESCRIBABLY GRATEFUL FOR

and anyway you chose these guys as your found family, bucko. too late to back out now. next time go get yourself adopted by the Iidas then

AND MEANWHILE NO WORD ON THE WHOLE “HOW DID A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD SURVIVE A FIRE THAT COVERED HIS BODY WITH HORRIFIC SCARS AND MELTED HIS JAW OFF, AND HOW DID HE SOMEHOW THEN MANAGE TO GO INTO HIDING FOR TEN WHOLE YEARS, AND WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT INTERIM TO CHANGE HIS GOAL FROM ‘SURPASS ALL MIGHT TO IMPRESS MY DAD’ TO ‘KILL ALL HEROES TO MAKE MY DAD SUFFER’.” as if we don’t know the answer to that. but still, would it kill Horikoshi to just confirm AFO’s involvement in all of this already. at this point it’s basically just a formality

so here’s hoping next week we’ll either get that, or more Hawks action, or (DARE I EVEN SUGGEST, I’M AFRAID TO JINX IT) finally cut back to Bakugou and Deku and All Might omg. either way I’m hyped

[calpalirwin]

Numbers

Summary: Sebastian doesn’t want to be another number to you, but little does he know he’s the only one.

A/N: Everyone say thank you to @jessalyn-jpeg​ for always being willing to cry over this man with me. 

Important distinction: Italics represent his thoughts, while bold italics represent hers

Word Count: 3.2k

And away, and away we go!

__

The sun was high and warm, and the sounds of wood cracking against leather grew louder as Y/N walked towards the baseball fields. “Yo, Number 1, lookin’ good!” she whistled, her fingers wrapping themselves in the chain link fence surrounding the field.

There was a loud laugh from the man playing shortstop, and he turned to either flip her off or stick out his tongue, but a baseball came flying in his direction, high and powerful. But not high enough. Almost lazily, Sebastian lifted his heels off the dirt, raising his left hand in the air, the ball coming to a stop in his glove.

“Right field, get ready!” Anthony, the pitcher shouted. “Stan’s lucky charm showed up!”

“I don’t need luck, Mackie,” Sebastian taunted, pulling at the sleeves of his jersey. “I’m Number 1 for a reason. Best shortstop in the state, right here, baby!”

“Mackie! Stan!” the coach barked in warning.

“Sorry!” both men laughed. And with his brief pause, Sebastian took off his hat, waving it at Y/N in greeting as she took a seat in the stands, before putting it back over his sweaty locks of brown hair.

As the practice continued, more girls made their way out to watch the team, and Y/N couldn’t blame them. Something about a guy’s ass in baseball pants, especially when that ass belonged to Sebastian Stan. And the college baseball team didn’t have any complaints about the attention they gathered, plays becoming more dramatic than they needed to be as a chance to show off, until the coaches finally called it quits.

“So,” Anthony asked Sebastian as they headed for the dugout. “Is today the day you ask out Y/N finally? Or should I try to shoot my shot? Like what's going on here, man? Cuz whatever it is between you, it’s gone on way too long, and I only got so much patience.”

Sebastian wasn’t sure how his face could grow warmer after being in the sun practicing for two hours, but it did. “I- We’re friends, ya know? And it’s not that I don’t wanna ask her out. It’s that I don’t know how. Or how she’ll react. It’s… a whole thing, ya get me?”

“Dude…” Anthony shook his head. “I say this because I care. But if you’re gonna make a move, make it fast. No one wants to be the one to cross you when we all know you got a thing for her. But if you’re not gonna shoot your shot…”

“Thanks…” Sebastian said, not sure if he appreciated the obvious advice or not. He knew he needed to ask Y/N sooner rather than later. But the idea that his teammates were lying in wait for him to either make a move, or step aside stirred up feelings of jealousy. But the only way of making sure they didn’t date her… He slung his bag over his shoulder, before squaring them and strutting out of the dugout, headed straight for Y/N. “Now or never, Stan,” he whispered to himself.

“Seb!” a girl called out and he turned to the sound, putting a smile on his face.

“Hey.” He offered a small wave, his eyes spotting Y/N, and kept walking, but then more girls were calling his name, batting their eyelashes, and touching his arm as they asked questions, and somehow Y/N got lost in the shuffle.

Y/N watched from her spot, the smile on her face dropping as she watched Sebastian get swarmed by girls who only wanted his attention so they could later brag to their friends that they’d gotten to talk to the star of the baseball team. And Sebastian wasn’t the type to be rude, even when he should.

Sighing, she shouldered her bag, heading down the bleachers, figuring she’d she go rescue him from his oh-so terrible prison of adoring girls.

“Hey, Y/N,” a shy voice called out as her feet hit concrete.

She lifted her gaze to find one of the newer players smiling at her. “Oh, hey, Tom,” she smiled back at him. “Good practice out there.”

“Heh, thanks,” he mumbled, his cleat digging into the ground. “So… you waiting for Seb?”

“I was yeah,” she admitted, looking over at Sebastian who was still under siege. And then a swell of anger bubbled inside her. If he couldn’t be bothered to pull himself away from them for her, then she didn’t have to wait for him. “But I’ll just catch him later. So, what’s up?”

Tom blinked in surprise. “Uh… I… Not much really. Was gonna head back to my dorm. Ya know, normal stuff I guess.”

“Well c’mon, I’m headed that way myself, I’ll walk with ya.”

Tom brightened as someone whistled from behind. “Damn! Kid’s got moves!” Anthony’s voice called out loudly. He jogged a few steps to join the couple, “Yo, Y/N, what about Seb?”

Y/N looked over her shoulder at Sebastian who still wasn’t even looking her way. “What about him?”

~~~

She mumbled airplane sounds under her breath, twisting her wrist to make the paper airplane fly around, before she really sent it flying across the living room. She watched as it glided through the air before nose-diving into the carpet as the front door opened.

“Apology food?” Sebastian asked with a hopeful smile, holding up a bag of takeout as he kicked the door shut.

“And what’s the apology for?” she asked, rising to her feet and crossing her arms.

“For being a dick after practice.”

“Chinese?”

“Your favorite,” he said, handing her the bag.

“Fine. Your transgressions against the crown are forgiven. This time.”

He tilted his head back as he laughed. “Thank you, your Highness. Although a little birdie told me that you ended up alright. Holland, huh?”

“Mackie is worse than girls with gossip, I swear…” Y/N said with an eye roll. “But yeah, Holland and I talked.”

“You know he’s a freshman, right?”

“Aw, is somebody jealous?” She flashed him a sardonic smile as they both plopped down on the couch and dug into the food.

Sebastian let out a scoff. “Me? Jealous of Holland? Pfft, yeah right.” Yes, insanely jealous, actually.

“Oh, so if I said he walked me all the way to the apartment, that wouldn’t make you mad?”

“You’re not my girlfriend, Y/N,” he said around a swallow of food. Despite how much I wish you were.  “If you wanna make baby Holland feel like a man for escorting you home, I really don’t give a shit. But you can do better than a freshman.” Like me.

Like you? “And you’d smell better with a shower,” was her retort as she knocked her shoulder into his.

“Mmm, you gonna join me?”

“Pfft! In your dreams, maybe.” And in mine.

Only in my dreams cuz once again, I fucked up.

~~~

Y/N figured one date would be enough to stir Sebastian into action. But one, the man had already made himself scarce by the time she left for her date. And two, the date sucked.

You’re not Sebastian was all she could think about throughout the dinner of cheesy one-liners, and bad jokes that bordered on offensive.

“So…” he asked suggestively as they walked out. “Wanna head back to my place?”

“No, I’m kinda tired,” she declined politely.

“Oh… well then I’ll call you sometime and we can do this again, maybe?”

“Yeah… no,” she said, shaking her head. “This was… nice. But no. You and I? Not gonna happen.”

“Right… I forgot you’re friends with Stan.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Oh, c’mon. Dude obviously likes you. And he’s not the one anyone wants to have on their bad side.”

“Then why did you ask me out? If all of you are so scared of Seb?”

“Cuz you’re hot, and I’m not on the baseball team,” he shrugged.

“Yeah… I’m gonna go home now. And you… ugh… yeah, no. Not gonna happen.”

~~~

Sebastian turned his head as the door opened. “Back before curfew, huh? Whatta gentleman.”

“Fuck you,” she told him with a roll of her eyes before stalking off towards her bedroom.

“Whoa, whoa, wait,” he said, bolting up off the couch. “C’mon, what happened?”

He wasn’t you. “He’s a pig. Said all the wrong things.”

“That sucks. But hey, can’t all be winners, right?”

“I guess… Although he did say one thing that was somewhat interesting.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Apparently you scare people off from asking me out.”

He snorted. “That’s fuckin’ stupid. Will I be pissed if some jackoff makes you feel like shit? Yeah, and I’ll probably say something. But shit… I’m not your boyfriend, or your dad, or some shit. Sounds like a lame cop-out because they just don’t wanna admit they’re pussies.”

And what’s your lame cop-out? “Ugh… I need a drink.”

“Grab me one, yeah?” he asked, sinking back down into the couch as she changed directions to head into the kitchen instead.

“So, how was your night?” she asked, grabbing two beers from the fridge.

“Uneventful,” he shrugged. “There was a girl I was hoping to go out with, but it didn’t work.”

“Aw damn. That sucks,” she said, as she joined him on the couch and handed him one of the beers. 

“Eh, it was my fault for not asking sooner,” he shrugged again, clinking his beer against hers. “To shitty nights.”

“Here, here,” Y/N cheered half-heartedly as they both took a long drink. “Fuck it. Paper airplane contest?”

He snorted into his beer. “We’re not seven anymore.”

“Aw, afraid you’ll lose?”

He sat up straighter. “Loser buys next case of beer?”

“You better get your wallet out, now.”

~~~

Sebastian knew he should have taken his chance after that first date gone bad. And Y/N knew she should have pushed him harder in her confrontation. But for whatever reason, the friends stayed at their stubborn stalemate.

Without Sebastian willing to make a move, Y/N began to wonder if maybe everyone had it all wrong. Maybe Sebastian was simply protective of her without having an ulterior motive behind it. So, she continued to go on dates with other guys on campus to ease the ache, until she couldn’t pretend they weren’t Sebastian anymore.

For his part, Sebastian not only took careful notes of the reasons Y/N gave for each of her short-lived romances, he also stupidly pointed her in the direction of new interests. And then he tried not to drown in his jealousy, before learning to grow doubtful of wanting a romantic relationship with her at all. Why would he want to sacrifice a lifelong friendship just to become another nameless guy she tossed to the side once she had her fun with him?

~~~

“Sebastian!” she gasped at him when he came home one night as she nursed away the end of yet another short-lived romance that wasn’t him.

“You’re drunk,” was the observation as he dropped his duffle bag to the floor.

“Ooooohhhh yeah,” she giggled at him with a wide grin, eyes hazy. “You gonna join me?”

“So we can both be sick? Yeah… Not a chance.”

“Boo…” she pouted. “You never wanna do anything with me.”

“One night. One night I don’t wanna drink with you, and that equates to me not wanting to do anything with you ever? Make it make sense, Y/N.”

“Well, you don’t wanna date me, that’s for sure,” was the drunk scoff.

He balked. “When did I ever say that?”

“Well it’s true, isn’t it? Everyone keeps saying that you like me, but you don’t do anything about it. Are they all lying? Or are you?”

He shook his head. “I’m not doing this. I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Why not?!”

“Because you’re drunk off your ass!”

“Just answer the question!”

“I don’t know!”

“What type of bullshit answer is that?! How do you not know if you wanna date someone?!”

“It’s the answer you give when you used to think you wanted to, but now you’re not sure anymore! Now… I gave you my answer. And I already told you once I’m not having this conversation. Not when you’re drunk. I’m going to bed. G’night Y/N.”

“COWARD!” she hurled the insult at his retreating back.

In his room, Sebastian didn’t sleep. He lay in bed watching his ceiling fan spin in slow hypnotic circles, cursing himself for letting it get this bad. If he had just asked her out after that one practice… If he could just rewind the clock…

In the living room, Y/N sobbed into her hands. The distractions never worked, even the promising ones. And Sebastian… If it turned out he didn’t want her…

Thoughts spiraled and time ticked by, Y/N growing more sober, and Sebastian more angry with himself.

“Seb?” she asked in a small whisper, knocking lightly on his door as she pushed it open, finding him still awake in bed, the little lamp on his nightstand illuminating the room.

“What do you want, Y/N?” he asked, more harshly than he meant to, as he pushed himself to sit up against his headboard.

“I- Nevermind… It’s stupid…”

“No, wait,” he called out to her as she turned to leave. “I didn’t mean it like that. I- What’s up? What did you wanna ask?”

She took a slow breath to steady herself as she turned back around to face him. “Do you like me? God, that sounds so juvenile…”

“Of course I like you, Y/N. You’re my best friend.”

“But you don’t like me enough to date me. Just enough to be protective about me dating anyone else.”

He sighed. Now, or never. “It’s not that I don’t wanna date you, Y/N. It’s that I’m scared to.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“To you, maybe. But to me, it’s perfectly valid.”

“How? How is that a valid reason? Sebastian Stan, scared of dating a girl? A girl who he’s known his whole life? Make it make sense.”

“You think I wanna be one of the guys you date? Maybe if you actually dated people, I wouldn’t have ever thought twice about dating you myself. But you don’t date, Y/N. You… God, I dunno what it is you do, but it’s not dating.”

“Fuck you,” she spat, feeling tears well up. “Fuck you! You don’t get to slut-shame me!”

“Slut-shame you?! How is it slut-shaming that I don’t wanna be another number to you?! That I don’t wanna be another source of entertainment for you until you get bored of me?!”

“Because you’re not a number, Sebastian!”

“Bullshit I’m not! You literally call me Number 1! You don’t love Y/N! You… you entertain yourself until someone better comes along!”

“That’s not true…” she whispered, heartbroken that he thought it was.

“It was for all the other guys! I don’t wanna be like them, Y/N! I don’t wanna be some random number to you! I wanna be the one! I don’t know how much clearer I can make that.”

“You know I only dated them to make you jealous, right?”

“Well congrats… you win. I’m insanely jealous of every guy that you parade through that goddamn door.” His mouth twisted and his vision started to swim.

“I didn’t wanna win, Seb. I wanted you.”

He hissed through his teeth. “Past tense… that, uh… Yeah, that hurts. Thanks for that… For this…” he twirled his finger about the room. “Awesome conversation. Glad we could have this talk.”

“You wanna know why it never worked with those guys?!” she yelled at him, her hands flying up in the air. “They weren’t you! God, I tried so hard to make it work with those guys! Any of them! But none of them made me feel the way you do. None of them get me the way you do. And… God! I wish they did! I wish at least one of them did, because then I could finally stop wasting my time on you when it’s obvious you don’t feel the same way about me!”

“I don’t feel the same?!” He grabbed a small notebook, hurling it at her. “If I never felt the same, explain that!” He pulled down the collar of his shirt, pointing at a small tattoo of a paper airplane on his chest “If I never felt the same, explain this!”

“Y-you got a tattoo? When?”

The sudden drop of her voice level took him a moment to realize what she’d asked. “When you started dating the guy with tattoos…” he told her.

“And this?” she asked, bending down to pick up the small notebook he’d thrown at her, thumbing through it. “Blue eyes, tattoos. Text back on time. Don’t say stupid shit,” she read aloud. “A-are these notes on how to date me?”

He shrugged. “I like to think they’re observations.”

“W-why would you need notes on how to date me?”

“To make sure you don’t get bored of me. To make sure you don’t forget me.”

“Seb-”

He shook his head fiercely, feeling his throat close up. “Don’t. Just don’t, okay? I know this is all my fault. I know if I had just stopped being a little bitch, and said something sooner like I wanted to, none of this would be happening right now. But I- Fuck… It’s always been me and you, and I dunno what I’d do if that stopped happening. You’re my best friend. And I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. And… I can’t risk losing you. I won’t lose you. Even if that means spending the rest of my life jealous of the guys you date.”

“And you never bothered to think that I had the same fears? That I’m just as in love with your stupid ass?”

“Why would you be? I’m just the idiot best friend.”

“Haven’t you been listening? I- God, did you really get a tattoo?” she asked. “What even is it?”

“It’s a paper airplane,” he mumbled, face turning red.

“Can I see it again?” she asked somewhat shyly.

He shrugged, taking off his shirt and tossing it to the side. “Happy now?”

“Oh, Seb,” she giggled, crossing the room to him. “You didn’t have to take your shirt off. You could have just tugged down your collar again.”

“Are you complaining?” he teased lightly, pulling her into his lap.

“God, no,” she said with another giggle. “Oh, Seb,” she sighed, her fingers tracing the ink on his skin. “God, we’re so fuckin’ stupid, aren’t we?”

“Oh, I’m definitely stupid,” he admitted. “Said and done so much stupid shit I shouldn’t have said or done.” His nose nudged against hers, his lips brushing against her cheek when he said, “God, I’m so sorry. I shoulda manned up sooner. And I shouldn’t have said those things about the guys you dated. I just- I fucked up. I let my insecurities get in the way, and I fucked up.”

“I fucked up too, Seb,” she whispered, carding her hands through his hair. “I was trying to fill a you-sized hole when I had you in front of me the whole time.”

“So you still want me? Even after I was the idiot coward that kept fucking up?” The blue eyes were big and watery with small traces of fear as they held her gaze steady, foreheads knocked together.

“Of course I still want you. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted, Seb.”

__

Tag List

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[t0wnspersonb]

I Got You (Sugawara Koushi x Reader)

Anonymous said:

Are you taking requests? I was wondering if you could do a smut with sugawara. Like they get a little drunk, and YN sits in Suga’s lap. Then Suga says something like, ”i know we're just friends, so I'm sorry if I get hard.” and then you can finish it however. Thank you so much!

Anonymous said:

Hiiii I justo read tour Tsukishima post! Is just great! Would It be posible to request a scenario with suga and his S/o un which she is a bit "scared" of being intimate with him because her first sexual contacts weren't good. she was sexually harrased when younger and so She is a bit reluctant of intimate Contact or sex being afraid that it just the same she has experienced. Also being afraid if she doesn't do the do with him he Will leave her. And how would he respond to that?

~~~~~~

Word Count: 3,124

Warnings: SMUT, mentions of sexual assault, drinking, alcohol, Suga being a fucking precious bean, my shit writing

Summary: It’s been a couple of years since everyone on the volleyball team have been together, one night during a get together you end up having one too many drinks, resulting in Sugawara taking you home and confessing his feelings to you. But a situation from your past might prevent you from reciprocating those feelings. 

~~~~~~

So I decided to incorporate these two requests together, I hope you guys don’t mind! I also apologize in advance if the writing is terrible😭😭😭 also another note for you guys: IF MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT IS TRIGGERING FOR YOU PLEASE DO NOT READ. SAME IF YOU HAVE AN ISSUE ABOUT THE DRINKING. I NEVER WANT ANY OF MY READERS TO FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE SO PLEASE DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THIS STUFF MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE.  This blog is all about feeling safe and being welcoming. So please do not read if any of those warnings make you uncomfortable. Thank you all for the love and support and I can’t wait to continue writing:)

~~~~~~

The team reunion was everything that you thought it would be. 

 Complete chaos.

 It had been several years since you all had graduated from Karasuno, naturally you guys had stayed connected with everyone despite the different lives you all lead now.

 But it was like it had never changed.

 Currently Daichi was yelling at Hinata’s and Kageyama’s rivalry, both deciding to see how many shots they could take.

 Team reunions and alcohol definitely didn’t mix.

 You sat beside Asahi, watching the madness unfold before you, debating on if you should sneak out now.

 “If Tanaka and Noya aren’t careful, Daichi is going to lose his mind on them soon too.” Asahi laughed nervously as he stared at the other chaotic duo causing a scene.

 “The youth these days can’t handle their liquor.” you sighed, shaking your head.

 “You’re drunk too Y/n.” Sugawara said in amusement, taking in your flushed face and slightly dazed expression. “And what youth? They’re only a year younger than us.”

 Well… he got you there. You weren’t super drunk per say, but you were definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol you had consumed. 

 But in your defense, you were also a light weight. 

 “Don’t be rude Suga-kun.” you pouted staring at the grey-haired male. “I’ve had a long day.”

 “And I haven’t?” he teased. Sugawara was a teacher at Karasuno, and the faculty advisor for the volleyball club.

 It suited him; you had thought. Sugawara was always kind and smart, the fact that he had chosen a career where he could display those characteristics was wonderful.

 He was wonderful.

 Out of the entire team, you had remained the closest to him after you all had gone your separate ways.

 That was to be expected though, considering that you two had been close since before high school, childhood friends.

 And let’s be honest, you still harbored an enormous crush on him.

 “- Shut up you two! You’re disturbing the people around you!”

 Daichi was now yelling at Tanaka and Noya, although the people around you consisted of the old volleyball team. 

 More commotion could be heard from Kageyama and Hinata, and then suddenly you found yourself being pulled onto the lap of Sugawara; a volleyball now resting when you had just been.

 You blinked in confusion.

 “Oi! You almost hit Y/n-chan! Where did you guys even get that ball!?” Daichi yelled.

 “Boke! Hinata! Boke!” Kageyama screamed.

 “Maybe you should just sit here for now.” Sugawara murmured next to your ear, his chin resting on the top of your shoulder as he stared at the scene(s) unfolding before you guys.

 “... Yeah.” you finally uttered out. “Were they always this bad?” you asked, thinking back to your days as a Karasuno manager.

 “Definitely.” Sugawara mused. “But maybe we shouldn’t have met up at a place that serves alcohol.”

 “No kidding.” You muttered under your breath, unconsciously shifting in Sugwara’s lap, making yourself more comfortable as you leaned into his strong chest.

 You both were oblivious to the eyes of Kiyoko and Asahi. They smirked slightly at the sight before them.

 Everyone knew of the crush you guys had on each other. It was obvious. But the fact that you guys had never dated, even after high school, baffled them completely.

 Maybe tonight would change that?

 You couldn’t help the laughter that began escaping your lips as the chaos increased, Daichi had all but given up lecturing everyone and now sat beside Ennoshita.

 You were completely unaware of the way that Sugarawa had stiffened underneath you. The hands that were wrapped around your waist carefully began shifting you, so that you weren’t resting directly on his crotch anymore.

 He could feel the slight race of his heart, and - well - the rising in his pants. He prayed that you didn’t notice.

 But it was just Sugarawa’s luck.

 You could feel the heat in your face rising rapidly, your heart beating just a tad quicker as you felt a growing hardness against the curve of your ass.

 “Suga.” you whispered; your mouth felt incredibly dry right now. “Is that -” “I’m sorry Y/n.” he interrupted you. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” he said gently, attempting to move you off of his lap.

 You shook your head, waving him off. “I-It’s okay. Y-You don’t have to move me… unless you want to.”

 Both of you visibly froze at your words. Shit, maybe the liquid courage you had in your system made you too bold.

 “Okay.” he murmured, and carefully tugged you closer now. This caused your bottom to slide against his growing member as he attempted to adjust you comfortably on his lap now.

 Despite the growing tension and nerves between the two of you, you didn’t move. His arms were wrapped around your waist carefully, his chin returning to your shoulder as you guys continued watching your teammates/friends create havoc in the room.

 This felt natural, this felt… right. Being wrapped up in Sugawara’s arms was quite literally heaven on earth for you.

 His body heat felt extremely pleasant, despite how overheated you were feeling. The mouthwatering scent of his cologne filled your nose, you could feel his breath against your cheek as it stirred your hair, and the gentle rising and falling of his chest.

 “Kiyoko-san! Marry me!” Tanaka cried, reaching for the dark-haired female. 

 “Kiyoko-san is gonna marry me!” Noya said, shoving at his friend.

 This time it was Ennoshita that began yelling at them. 

 You could feel the rumble of Sugawara’s chest as he laughed quietly behind you. Unconsciously he pressed his face into your neck to muffle the noise. You gasped softly as you felt soft damp lips gently brush against your neck as he attempted to quiet his laughter.

 But he had heard the soft noise that escaped your mouth, his grip on you tightening just slightly.

 Sugawara couldn’t help but wonder what other noises you could make.

 This was definitely going to be a long night.

 ***

 All too soon the night had ended, but you found yourself being accompanied home by Sugawara. 

 He and the team were slightly worried about getting you home safely, considering that you were still a bit drunk, and lived the furthest away.

 But by the time you had gotten home you had sobered up dramatically, now you were just tired.

 “Would you like to come in for a bit?” you asked, gazing up at the male.

 His eyes searched your face for a moment before nodding. 

 Sugawara had been over to your home before, but for some reason it felt different. There was that slight thrill that you shouldn’t have invited him in, the air between you two still held that sexual tension.

 As you sat in the living room together, sipping on the tea you had made, it got worse.

 Should you… confess? Should you say something about earlier? 

 You were a grown ass woman for Christ sake, and you still couldn’t muster up the courage to tell your childhood friend that you’ve been in love with him since you were kids.

 “Y/n.” Sugawara said suddenly, pulling you from your brooding thoughts. He was staring at you seriously, shifting closer to you on the couch.

 “Y-Yes.” you answered back nervously, biting your bottom lip as you stared back. 

 “Can I… can I try something?” He asked softly, gently cupping the side of your face.

 Your lips parted at his sweet touch, nodding softly.

 And then he was kissing you. 

 It was gentle and sweet, his lips incredibly warm and soft as they moved carefully against yours.

 You melted against him, threading your fingers into his hair as the kiss deepened, the softness melting into something extremely passionate.

 You found yourself on your back, Sugawara hovering over your body. You could feel his hands sliding under your shirt, his soft fingers gently trailing upwards on your skin. His touch burned in a pleasant way, it left you breathless and trembling.

 A familiar burn began igniting in the lower pit of your stomach. 

 Until you felt him cup your breast carefully.

 An image you thought you had buried in the deepest pit of your memory came to the forefront of your mind, causing your body to break out in a cold sweat, you flinched hard and began shoving at Sugarawa, feeling trapped underneath his body.

 You yanked yourself away from him, feeling tears sting at the backs of your eyes as you sat up, carefully wrapping your arms around yourself.

 And then you froze, your eyes snapping over to Sugarawa who was staring at you in confusion and worry.

 “Y/n -” “I’m sorry!” you interrupted him, biting down the hysteria as you fought back the painful memories that wanted to invade your mind.

 “For what?” he asked gently, carefully moving closer to you, he gently placed a hand on your shoulder in comfort. “I shouldn’t have gone that far, I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

 You shook your head, wiping at the tears in your eyes. “You don’t need to apologize Suga… It wasn’t your fault.”

 “I find that hard to believe.” he said quietly, carefully moving the hair over your shoulder. “I shouldn’t have forced it, you should’ve told me no if you didn’t feel the same way.” he said, smiling sadly at you. “I should go.”

 Panic overtook your body and you grabbed his hand tightly, preventing him from leaving. “Don’t go!” you cried. “It’s not like that! I... I’ve liked you for a while now Suga. Please don’t go.”

 His eyes widened at your sudden confession, and then softened dramatically as he took in your hysterical form.

 “Well what’s going on. Talk to me.” he murmured, taking your hand in his. His thumb rubbing soothing circles on the top of your hand.

 You could feel your heart racing in fear, if you told him would he leave you? Would he be sickened by you? Knowing that you were broken, tainted. 

 “Hey.” he lifted your chin, forcing your eyes to look at him. His expression was soft and sweet, understanding. “I’m not going anywhere. Talk to me. Let me take care of you.” he breathed, his thumb gently dragging against the bottom of your lip. “You’ve been in my life since we were kids. I’d like you to be in my life more than that now. So please… just talk to me.”

 The sincerity in his voice, in his face, sent warmth throughout your entire being. It sent away the coldness that you felt creeping into your heart.

 “My first boyfriend…” you said quietly after a moment of silence. “He wasn’t… he wasn’t always so nice to me. Of course, no one knew.”

 Sugawara stayed silent. 

 “His touch wasn’t like yours. It wasn’t wanted at all. But it happened…” you trailed off, lips trembling slightly at the memories.

 Sugawara inhaled sharply at your words, anger piercing into his heart. He remembered that boyfriend, he had almost lost his friendship with you because of that guy. The volleyball team almost lost one of their precious managers because of that guy.

 “It was never good… he was so rough and… it always hurt. I -um - I haven’t… been with someone like that since it happened.” you finished, blinking back tears. “But… if it means that you’ll keep liking me… then I don’t mind…” you trailed off.

 Sugawara had never been more upset in his entire life. Just the idea of someone touching you without you wanting them to, hurting you intentionally… he couldn’t even fathom it. Couldn’t even begin to sort out the rage that he felt.

 But this wasn’t about him. This was about you. This was about making sure that you were taken care of, that your needs were being met.

 He carefully tugged you onto his lap, gently cupping your face as he stared at you with such an intensity it left you breathless.

 “Darling, don’t you ever, ever, say that.” he breathed out, the anger in his eyes simmering down to something sad and soft. “I would never put you in a situation where you ever had to feel that… that the only way to keep me is by…” he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

 He took a shuddering breath in before opening his eyes and continuing. “I don’t want to do anything that you don’t want to do. All I want from this… is to make you feel loved and happy. I’ve waited years to hear that you like me too. And now that I know you feel the same way… I just want to make you happy.” 

 He rested his forehead against yours tenderly, your eyes fluttering shut automatically. 

 “So, we don’t have to do anything that you aren’t ready for yet.” he finished. “But if you do… I can promise you that I will make you feel good… I’ll always make you feel good. Okay?” he asked, his hand gently cupping the back of your neck.

 He stared at you with so much love and adoration, it caused your heart to clench tightly, the fear and worry dissolving from your body and replaced with a feeling of warmth and safety.

 “Suga.” you whispered softly, “I want… I want to try. Please?” 

 He nodded before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss against your lips. The kiss you two began to share never escalated to something that you couldn’t handle, it remained sweet and tender. An unspoken promise of never-ending gentleness.

 Before you knew it, both of your guys’ clothes had found their way to the floor, you had ended up in your bedroom, entangling yourselves on the bed.

 “You’re perfect.” Sugawara breathed, his eyes dancing across your naked body. He was rock hard already, but right now his priority was you. It was always going to be you.

 “Can I touch you?” he asked sweetly, gazing at your face with a loving expression.

 You nodded, swallowing thickly as his fingers began dancing across your skin, to your most intimate area.

 Sugawara watched your expression closely as he trailed his fingers over your mound, brushing softly at the top of your slit. He watched as yours fluttered shut in pleasure, his fingers gently running up and down against your soaked entrance.

 “You’re so wet for me.” He breathed in awe, carefully pushing a finger in. You gasped at the unfamiliar intrusion, but then began to melt. You were actually starting to feel good. 

 It didn’t take long until you were trembling and whimpering in pleasure at his gentle touches. Sugawara cooing to you about how beautiful you were and how well you were doing the entire time.

 Without any warning you began unraveling beneath him, the tight coil in your stomach snapping, you moaned loudly as the pleasure overtook your body. Leaving you a trembling mess as you came down from your high.

 Sugawara couldn’t tear his eyes away. You were fucking beautiful, and the fact that he was able to give you so much pleasure, the fact that he was the first one to ever give that kind of pleasure, well, he had never been more satisfied in his entire life. 

 “Do you want more?” he asked softly. You nodded in a daze, but that previous fire began igniting once more at the thought of Sugawara giving you more.

 “Can we try something?” he asked, his fingers rubbing softly at your hip. 

 “Okay.” you whispered. He tugged your body in a sitting position before laying down beside you. His member standing up painfully tall, aching for attention, for relief.

 But again, this wasn’t about him. This was about you. Which was why he wanted to do it this way. He wanted you to set the pace, wanted you to take control, wanted you to feel in control of this situation.

 “Ride me.” He breathed gazing at you with half lidded eyes. “I’m all yours.”

 Something deep within your belly twisted pleasantly at his words, and carefully you climbed on top of him, your hands resting on his strong chest as you stabilized yourself. 

 You could feel his cock brushing against your entrance, causing you to gasp loudly at the feeling. His hands rested lightly on your hips as you settled yourself and then you began sinking down on him and -

 Holy Fuck. 

 The stretch that Sugawara provided left you breathless as you sunk all the down, his cock completely engulfed in your velvety walls.

 You sat still as you began to adjust to the size of him, to the new intrusion. Your gaze found Sugawara's face and your tight walls seized up in desperation.

 His eyes were closed shut, his mouth parted in deep pleasure as he felt your walls squeeze him deliciously.

 You were warm, and you were so fucking wet. 

 “You… can… ngh… you can move if you want.” Sugawara groaned out, his eyes fluttering open. He could’ve cum at the mere sight of you, sitting on top of him, looking absolutely sinful with how beautiful you were.

 You started biting your lower lip as you began to move, gliding your hips up and down and - oh. It’s never… it’s never felt like this before. Pleasure began rippling through you as you slid up and down Sugawara’s cock. 

 Soft zaps of pleasure shooting up your spine. Sugarawa’s hands were resting on your hips, helping to guide you up and down. He knew he wasn’t going to last long, not with the sounds escaping your lips and your sweet expression that was twisted in pleasure.

 “I got you.” he breathed out. “I can feel it… just let go. I got you. Cum for me darling.” you were drastically getting tighter and tighter, your body readying yourself for another orgasm.

 So, you did.

 The euphoria that erupted within your body had you gasping for breath, your entire lower body locking down, causing Sugawara to release himself deep inside of you.

 He moaned your name out loudly, carefully bucking his hips up as he spilled into you. 

 You collapsed onto his chest, both of you trying to catch your breath. He gently began pushing your hair to the side, his hands rubbing up and down your back. Sugawara pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head as you murmured his name softly against his neck.

 “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up. Just sleep.” he cooed.

 You could feel your eyes fluttering shut at his warm touch and softly spoken words, you had never been more comfortable, more content, in your entire life until now. 

 You weren’t sure what was going to happen when you woke up, but one thing that you were sure of, was that you were hopelessly in love with Sugawara.

[lovemeleo]

you know when babies are jealous and don’t let their parents like kiss cause they’re clingy with one of them? just imagining Logan getting all pouty cause Asher won’t let him kiss Leo when he’s around or even cuddle him

This has been sitting in my ask box for soooo long! And I finally did it! I hope you enjoy, anon, because it was fun to write! These characters (except Asher) belong to the lovely @lumosinlove! 

Here’s the link to the rest of the Asher Pascal series, if you haven’t read those yet!

***

When you have a child, everyone warns you about the “Terrible Twos.” They warned about the rapid mood changes and the changes in their behaviors. But at no point in time did anybody tell them, “Hey, your son is probably going to get really possessive of everything and everyone around him.” 

That would’ve been nice to know.

They had started teaching him about sharing, and he was normally pretty good about it. Shared toys with Harry when he went to the Potter house, offering some of his snacks to his dads or any various family members that happened to be nearby. Then out of nowhere, there would be something that was his.

Today, it was his dad’s hoodie.

“Mine.” Asher insisted, his hands on his hips as he stared defiantly up at his dad.

Remus sighed, “Ash. Bub. I need my hoodie, otherwise, I’m gonna be cold at the park.” Asher had managed to steal the hoodie he had planned to wear off his bed, pulling it on over his park outfit. Even through his exasperation, he had to admit the sight of his son pouting up at him, Remus’ hoodie covering him like a dress.

“What about this one, mon chou?” Sirius said, raising an eyebrow as he held out a smaller jersey hoodie. He had one for each of the guys on the team, but this was his favorite. It had a big number one on it, and you guessed it, ‘KNUT’ printed on the back. 

Asher was quickly trying to pull the giant hoodie over his head, arms flailing as he got lost in it along the way. Remus was quick to save the day as he detangled his son, pressing a kiss to his forehead when his head finally appeared.

Giggling, Asher held his arms for his other dad as his own hoodie was slipped on, “My Le hoodie.” He sing-songed, wiggling happily as soon as it was on. They were meeting the Cubs at the park nearby their house today. Remus had texted Leo saying he needed to get Asher out of the house to tire him out, as he had been a ball of energy all week. Leo agreed, his boyfriends were the same way and as much as he loved them, he was close to bashing their heads together just to get some peace and quiet.

After grabbing Asher’s bag as well as the packed lunch they made for the six of them, they headed to the park, the little boy swinging happily from his dads’ hands as he stood between them. “You excited for the park, Ash?” Sirius asked

“Yep! ‘M gonna go swinging, and on the slide, and my Fish said that he would help me on the monkey bars!” Asher rambled through his plan, his dads nodding as they listened intently. Everyone always talked about how advanced his talking was, he started so early, but they just spoke to him normally, encouraging questions and any conversations Asher wanted to have. 

Sirius couldn’t help the fond look that passed over his face as he looked at his perfect little family. If anyone had told eighteen-year-old Sirius that he’d be married with a son, he probably would’ve laughed in their face. But here he was.

As they got to the park, Asher let out a happy squeal before sprinting off, his eyes landing on the tall blonde, “Le!” He jumped into Leo’s arms, and of course, was quickly caught and spun around as he giggled madly. They had the routine down to a science. 

“Ash!” Leo said with a grin, resting the giggling boy on his hip. “Nice hoodie you’ve got there.”

Logan ruffled the little boy’s hair, making him grin, “I might have to get one in my size.”

Asher was quickly nodding as he turned to face the other man, “Tremzy, we could be matching!” The older boy couldn’t help the fond smile that spread on his face as he watched Asher’s face light up. 

“I’d love to match with you.” Logan said, tickling Asher’s side causing him to burst into a fury of giggles, hiding his face in Leo’s neck.

Wrapping an arm around Logan’s waist, Finn rested his chin over the shorter man’s shoulder, “You ready to master those monkey bars, little dude?” 

Before he could even finish his sentence, Asher was wiggling out of Leo’s grip and grabbing Finn’s hand, quickly pulling him towards the monkey bars as fast as little feet would take him. The rest of them made their way to a picnic table nearby, setting down their things as they watched Finn hold Asher up so he could reach.

“He’s been talking about the monkey bars all week, and how his Fish was gonna teach him,” Sirius said, watching his son fondly as he swung carefully. Finn held him gently, ready to catch him if he let go.

Logan grinned, resting his head on Leo’s shoulder, “Finn too. Though we were all excited. With this week off of practice, I think we all got a bit of cabin fever, so it’s nice to get out of the house.”

“Well, Tremz, y’know you don’t have to stay in your house just cause we don’t have practice, right? You are very much allowed to go into the outside world.” Sirius teased, leaning his elbows onto the table.

Smirking, Logan leaned forward, “I’m well aware of that, Cap, but we had other plans in mind that didn’t require leaving the house.” 

Sirius groaned, pushing at the younger man’s face, “Non! Pas d'arrêt... That’s gross. You’re like my brother and that’s gross. I don’t want to hear about all your sexual encounters.” Logan let out a loud laugh as his boyfriend hid his face in his hands, though they couldn’t hide the bright red of his cheeks.

“Ahhh, Nutter Butter, are you blushing?” Logan smirked, poking at the sneaky dimple that peaked out from Leo’s hands.

Leo gave him a dirty look, “Fuck off.” He said, sticking his tongue out as he tried to hide the blush that covered his face. Logan couldn’t help the fond smile, leaning over to press a kiss to Leo’s cheek.

“You’re fucking cute.”

Before Leo could reply, a dramatic gasp came from the direction of the monkey bars. Turning around, they saw Asher gesturing for Finn to let him down before he was running towards the table. He was yelling something but they weren’t sure what until he got closer.

“He’s mine!” Asher chanted, quickly running up to the table and trying to push in between Logan and Leo. Finn tried to hide his laughter behind his hand as he followed after him at a much more leisurely pace. 

Asher quickly squished his way in between them, pointing a finger at Logan, “Tremzy, no! Mine!” He said before making his way into Leo’s lap. Sirius was trying (and failing) to hide his laughter as he leaned into Remus, his face hidden in his fiance’s shoulder.

Ever the mature one in his relationship, Remus bit back his own laughter to look at his son, “Ash, sweetheart. Remember what we talked about?”

Pouting as he looked up at his dad, Asher leaned into Leo’s chest, “You said I’m not s’posed to claim people ‘cause you can’t own them… But he’s my Le! A-And Tremzy was kissing him!” He said, sounding scandalized as he peeked over at Logan.

“You’re gonna have to share though, because he’s also Logan and Finn’s Le. And they’re being very nice and sharing him with you.” Remus explained, trying not to break and just give Leo to his son as he was met with the puppy dog eyes.

He didn’t know what he expected, their son was sort of unpredictable so Sirius couldn’t help but jump as Asher burst into tears, hiding his face in Leo’s chest, “B-but I love him!”

Leo’s eyes got wide as he gently rubbed over Asher’s back, “Whoa, hey mon chou, don’t cry. It’s alright! You’re allowed to love more than one person. And just because I love Logan and Finn, doesn’t mean I can’t love you too! I’ve got a lot of love to give, I’m a pretty big guy, y’know?”

Sniffling softly, Asher looked up at him, “Love me too? And Tremz and Fish?” 

“Of course. I love you all very very much.” Leo said quietly, using his sleeve to gently wipe the tears from Asher’s cheek. 

Logan bit his lip nervously as he watched the interaction. He hadn’t meant to make Asher cry and hated seeing the little boy upset. He loved the kid to death, and the thought of him hating Logan broke his heart a bit. Finn reached over to him, intertwining their fingers together as he gave him a gentle smile.

Fiddling with the bottom of Leo’s sweater, Asher let out a soft hiccup as he looked up at Logan, “‘m sorry I yelled at you, Tremzy. C-Can we all share Le?” He asked.

“Of course, bud. I’m always down to share with you.” Logan replied quickly, his fingers moving to brush Asher’s curls from his face. It felt like a weight was lifted off his chest as a small smile spread across the little boy’s face. 

“Do you wanna go to the swings?” Leo asked, his hand still rubbing calming circles into Asher’s back. 

Logan stood up, stretching his legs before reaching for Asher, “C’mon, we’ll see who can go higher.” Reaching up, Asher quickly nuzzled into Logan’s arms as he nodded. Leo followed after them, Asher’s happy chatter already picking back up.

“Well, that was absolutely terrifying,” Finn muttered, leaning onto the table as he watched his boyfriends go. 

Sirius chuckled, patting him on the shoulder, “They’re fine, Harzy. The crisis was averted fairly well, I’d say.” Remus couldn’t help but nod in agreement. 

“Honestly that could’ve gone way worse... You’ll be good dads one day.” He said with a soft smile.

Finn couldn’t help the fond smile that grew on his face as he watched Logan swinging next to Asher, Leo pushing the little boy as they laughed.

“One day.”

[shurisneakers]

shut in [4]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, threats

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: greetings everyone!! how are we all doing? i have nothing to say here tbh so anyway stan sam wilson being a lil shit whenever possible. 

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Alright, thank you.”

You hung up the call, trudging back to the house, discarding the battery along the way.

The air had a chill to it and there was an occasional breeze that went past, rustling leaves providing an eerily comforting background score. The temperature tended to rise as the day went on but nights were especially cold due to the abundance of trees. 

Even though the stress of the situation you were in constantly consumed all your waking thoughts, you still found the time to appreciate how beautiful your surroundings were. 

The last few days were barely memorable. Sam and you tended to stay out of each other's way unless your meal time coincided or you watched the local news together. The schedule had worked out favourably.

He wasn’t very hard to live with.

Most of the time.

His commentary and small jokes were never-ending but were not as unwelcome as you initially thought. It brought some much needed light into your otherwise dreary day. When it came to figuring out how to do laundry due to your now extended stay or whose turn it was to do it, things got a bit messy but were resolved quickly.

He used to disappear often for hours on end. You never concerned yourself with going after him to find out where he went, figuring that unless he was hatching a plot that led to your demise, he was entitled to his own privacy. He’d return a while later, calmer than when he left.

It was fine. Nothing to write home about. Neither of you were dead yet.

“What are you doing on the bed?” You were reconsidering your last thought when you walked into the bedroom to resume your self-interrupted sleep, only to find him face down on the sheets. “It’s my day today.”

“Just give me some time. I’ll be out of here soon enough.” His voice was muffled as he spoke into the sheets.

“You can take all the time you need tomorrow when it’s your turn.” You swatted at his legs, earning a grunt of chagrin from him.

“Go eat some soup and maybe you’ll calm down,” he fired back, unmoving.

“Today’s not soup day. Which you would know if you paid attention to our schedule. That we made. Together. The same schedule which says it’s my turn today.”

He groaned, shoving his face deeper into the pillow. “My back’s killing me. Just give me a few.”

“Why, what’d you do?” you asked curiously, letting go of his leg.

“Combat training. Took a few beatings, fucked up my spine.”

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“It comes and goes.” Sam finally rolled onto his back, giving you a view of his face. His bone structure was amazing, even from quite possibly the ugliest angle you could have over him. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

You just stared at him as he linked his arms behind his neck, elevating his head to look at you. He had a small stubble that was starting to grow longer. You wondered if he would shave it. He looked good regardless.

“How’s your beloved?”

“Huh?”

“The person you keep sneaking around to talk to on the phone. I’m not your dad, y’know. You can talk to them inside the house, ‘m not gonna ground you,” he quipped, a small, teasing smile on his face.

“He’s not my lover. Just... an acquaintance.” You felt the awkwardness starting to set in after you trailed off. “Anyway since you’re awake, we need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?”

“What happened that day. We’ve been avoiding it but we need to figure out what went wrong. Or at least a clue.”

“Okay,” Sam agreed, wincing as he sat up straight. “How do you want to do it?”

“Just talk me through how you got put on this mission and what exactly happened that day, I guess.” You took a place on the bed, leaning backward on your hand for support.

He nodded, delaying for a second to collect his thoughts before beginning.

“So basically-”

The sun was particularly relentless that day.  

The ringing bell above the door of his favourite coffee shop was a welcoming sound. The barista smiled at him in greeting, asking if he wanted his usual to go.

His park bench was empty as it always was. Sam liked to think of it as a small gift from the universe; the fact that it was perpetually unoccupied.

He liked to sit there and watch people’s day go by. His iced coffee-

“I don’t really require that much detail.”

“Patience. I’m getting there.”

It was arguably one of the most peaceful days he had had in awhile, and he was hoping to keep the streak going. Nothing seemed like it would phase him, not even the phone ringing, drawing his attention away from the scene in front of him. Caller ID didn’t trace who it was.

“Hello?”

“Wilson.”

Sam gripped the cup so hard he thought it might spill over onto his jeans.

“I told you not to call me, Ransone.”

“But honey we had such a good time last night,” he faux cooed, “You know I have needs-”

“I’m not getting involved in your stupid organisation, Vincent. I told you I’m done,” Sam broke in, not wanting to waste time listening to his stupid dramatics.

“Listen here, Wilson.” The swift change in his tone was looming, threatening. “You’re done when I say you’re done-”

“Wanna bet?” Sam took a sip of his coffee. “I thought we made it clear in Detroit that we’re done. Honey.”

He added the last part out of pure spite just to get a rise out of him. Much to his glee it seemed to work as Ransone let out a deep exhale before continuing.

“That was before we found out there’s a mole in my gang. I want you to kill him.”

“This is way below my pay grade. Have one of your interns do it. Your shitty murder warehouse hasn’t seen much action in a while.”

“This is Pierce we’re talking about. If he’s working for another organisation, his ass is going to be so guarded, these kids couldn’t wouldn’t even get past the gate. Besides, you know my murder warehouse is for special guests only-”

“Man, it must suck real hard to be you right now,” Sam didn’t wait for him to complete his sentence. He finished the last bit of the drink he had left, gathering his things before standing up. “Find someone else. I’m out.”

“You might want to reconsider that. We found him.”

He stopped in his tracks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam said steadily, grip on the phone tightening.

“I think you do, though. Had us fooled for a while there, thinking he’s dead. A little more research, some cash into the right pockets and boom! There he is, clear as day.”

Sam felt a chill go up his spine.

“He doesn’t know we know. We’re just keeping an eye on him for now.”

“If you even fucking think of touching him-” his fists were balled up, struggling to keep his anger from rising.

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t.” Ransone laughed. “I’ll just have one of my interns do it.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Ransone. It’s not somethi-”

“Do this hit and I’ll leave him alone,” Ransone interjected. “You’ve worked so hard to pull him from our radar, Sammy. It would be a shame if it all went to waste.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. Suddenly the day didn’t seem as bright as it was a few minutes ago.

“I’ll text you the details. You tend to leave me on read so I thought I’d make it more fun. Do you want the confetti with the message or the lasers-”

Sam just hung up the call, feet firmly rooted in his spot. He had no idea what he was going to do.

The notification of a new text alerted him. Pierce’s address along with the exact timeline of when he’d be home.

It was across the country. If he botched the mission on purpose, Ransone wouldn't be able to find him for a few days at least, much less reach him. He could go on the run-

‘Do it or he dies.’

His train of thought was interrupted by a picture that made his blood boil.

Especially when it exploded with the stupid confetti effect.

“Okay, basically he threatened you with something to go do the hit.” You didn’t ask him what exactly he was threatening him with and Sam didn’t really elaborate.

“Yeah. Didn’t leave me with much of a choice. He’s batshit fuckin’ crazy anyway, I knew he’d do whatever he felt like.”

“So you ended up going.”

Pierce didn’t seem to get many visitors. Not that anyone could be blamed, this guy was one of the biggest pieces of shit Sam had had the misfortune of meeting.

Over the two days he had staked out in front of the mansion to find out if this guy had as much security as Ransone had boasted of, Sam had come to the conclusive truth that no, he very much did not. He had a standard home security system which was lacklustre compared to the rest of the house.

Maybe he just assumed that being a senior member of the mob would garner some fear to his name. Dumbass.

He found the tall shrubbery surrounding the property to be out of the line of sight of the camera, and climbing it wasn't very hard. He landed softly on the manicured lawn, adjusting his gloves and checking his surroundings before pulling his gun that was secured in the waistband of his pants.

He removed the safety, keeping it close to him as he stalked through the front yard.

The red car parked at the side earned an eye roll from him. If he had one, there was no doubt there’d be more. He just had to find a basement or garage.

Walking around the house, he kept close to the wall, searching for any opening to the basement.

It didn’t take long before he found a set of stairs to the exterior entrance of the basement. He checked to see if anyone was around before making his way down them. The lock was unsurprisingly easy to pick.

The basement was mostly dark save for a few strategic lights placed to highlight the magnificence of his several race cars. The man was moved slower than the second coming of Jesus. The cars just seemed like an overcompensation.

The switchboard was not difficult to find. He pulled open the cover, glancing at the switches before turning all of them off, plunging the whole basement into darkness. If his security system was as outdated as Pierce was, it would have turned off along with the rest of the house.

“Oh, that’s why the cameras weren't working when I showed up.” Bits that seemed amiss were beginning to place itself together the more his story progressed. “I assume you entered the house through the window on the side?”

“Sure did.”

Your guess was right. He’s the reason why it was ajar by the time you arrived.

As soon as he entered he had his gun raised. Scanning the room as he went past, his senses were dialed up to eleven. If he was really under the protection of Serpentine, they were doing a terrible job. He had gotten in completely unscathed.

As he made his way deeper into the house, the sound of some movie playing became louder. But he had cut off the power supply to the house.

His eyebrows pulled together tightly into a frown, he made his way down the hall towards the sound. No one was in the dining or living room he canvassed.

Finally, Pierce’s silhouette became clearer. He appeared to just be sitting there idly while a smaller screen played in front of him. It wasn’t a TV, just an iPad.

If Pierce was asleep it would just make the job easier. Gun raised, Sam made his way into the room silently.

Pierce was still. Sam raised the gun, taking a step closer.

A floorboard creaked.

He immediately cringed, shoulders tensed as he came to an immediate stop. It seemed like forever as he waited for Pierce to wake up, to brandish a gun and try and defend himself.

He didn’t.

Taking a step to the side, Sam moved diagonally. Each one was slow. Ready for any sudden movements from his end.

He finally stopped in front of Pierce.

A bullet hole in his forehead. Eyes open. Chest still.

He was dead.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Sam breathed out, lowering his gun. Pierce’s glassy eyes stared blankly ahead. He didn’t look like had been dead for too long.

A soft thud in another room made his head snap up. It was in the same direction from where he came.

He silently moved backwards to the corner of the room, hoping that the darkness was enough of a disguise as he saw someone stalking down the hallway.

“And that’s when you come in. Thought you were comin’ back to make sure he was dead.”

“I had just got there. Saw that everything was off, and just assumed it was a power outage.”

“What about you? How’d you end up there?” Sam had his legs crossed, leaning forward to listen to you.

“Ransone told me that there was a spy who was sending information out for nearly two years. Needed him gone and he wasn’t sure if his other agent would show up-” you mentioned to him- “I guess that’s you. Told me I had an opening at 8pm. When I got there, the CCTV was off. Found the window open so I just used that.”

You were replaying your memory, step by step to remember what exactly you had seen. 

“Heard the movie playing, found no one when I went down the hall. I saw the car keys on the island, which came in handy later. Entered the room, pushed his head with the gun and he just slumped over like a damn rag doll. That’s when you made your grand entrance.”

“Got one chance to make an impression. Had to make sure I looked cool, emergin’ from the shadows and whatnot.”

“It doesn’t make sense though.”

“Ouch. Thought it was pretty legit, actu-”

“No, no-” you waved him off. “Not your entrance. The henchmen thing.”

He paused, mulling over what you said. “If he was working for Serpentine, he would have been more careful. Why did they show up after he’s dead?”

“I don’t think they work for Serpentine. If Pierce was giving them information, they wouldn’t kill him.” You had good reason to be confident about that. You thought you did, from previous assessments.

“Unless they were scared that he’d switch again,” Sam suggested. You looked up from your fidgeting fingers to him. “Didn’t want any of their secrets going back to Ransone. They got to him before we did.”

“Why’d they shoot at us then? If they killed him and left, why’d they wait for us to show up? Why did they try to kill us?”

“I think we’re ignoring the important thing here,” he paused. You looked at him expectantly, prodding him on. “How did they know we were coming? They should have killed him and disappeared but they expected us.”

You tilted your head. “Are you saying-”

“There might be more.”

“Pierce might not have been the only one,” you finished. “There are more spies.”

“Tipped ‘em off. Told them we were going to be there.”

“And killing us was just to poke Ransone with a stick,” you murmured, eyes downcast, fidgeting with your fingers again. “But that just seems random. It doesn’t make sense.”

“None of this makes sense, sweetheart.” Sam scoffed, leaning back again.

“We’re missing something. There’s something wrong.” You looked at him. “If it’s just a random attack, why did they release our face to the whole fuckin’ country? Why are they specifically targeting us?”

“Finishing what they started. Covering all their tracks from that day. If we’re not dead, we’re a liability.”

“What if it’s not Serpentine at all? What if it’s another gang?”

“Serpentine has the most motive.”

“We don’t know that.”

He looked at you incredulously. “I think there’s substantial evidence to suggest they fuckin’ hate us. Besides, they’d want me dead specifically.”

“Why?” you inquired, eyes narrowing.

He opened his mouth like he was going to explain but closed it a second later, leaving you guessing.

“Fine, but it doesn’t mean they’re the only ones who do.” You made a point to ask him later or at least conduct your own research into it. 

“Okay,” he said, shifting to lean on his elbows, “who else could it be? If Pierce was working for Serpentine and Ransone found out, sends someone to kill him, it’s essentially an attack on one of their own members. I’d say that's a pretty good motive.”

“I don’t know. Hydra doesn’t like us either. There’s Ten Rings too. But Serpentine just doesn’t work out.”

“How are you sure?” he asked. “You a spy for them too?”

You rolled your eyes at him as he raised his eyebrow. “It doesn’t make sense. What if we’re missing something? Did we go through everything?”

“I just went through my entire story down to the most irrelevant details. Twice. Nothing’s missing on my end.” He pushed himself off the bed, taking a long stretch before looking back at you.

“I think we should do it again. Just to make sure.” You rotated your torso to look at him. “We can figure it out-”

“You’re going to lose your mind if you keep at this any longer for today. Take a break.”

“I can’t take this lightly. Everyone’s out there looking for us and there is no one we can trust-”

“And going through our stories for the third time today is going to solve that how?” He had his hands crossed over his chest like a stern parent.

“I’m sorry but our faces are probably plastered in every damn police precinct in the country,” you snapped, “And I think that us remembering something some stupid detail might actually help rather than, I don’t know, taking naps and eating sandwiches. So no, I’m not going to drop it. Because I actually want to get out of here.”

You didn’t mean to sound so angry with him. He had told you everything twice already and patiently answered questions that you had. You didn’t think he was lying. You had no way of knowing but you hoped that some sort of allegiance was being formed between you both.

There was silence for a minute, leaving enough time for the guilt to creep in when he didn’t fire back. It’s what you expected.

“I’m not asking you to drop it. I’m saying take a break,” he said calmly. “You’re thinkin’ enough for the both of us anyway.”

You let out a small exhale, forcing the edge to retreat from your voice.

“I’ll be back in a while.” With that he turned around and left the room. A few minutes later you heard the backdoor open and shut.

Great.

You massaged your throbbing temples, eyes closed. He was right. Your mind wasn’t clear and you had been at this for hours. You wouldn’t be able to think critically.

Or at all.

You dropped back on the bed, grabbing a pillow and pressing it to your face. The coolness of the fabric felt nice.

You just let out a sigh, turning to your side to hopefully get some sleep.

_____

You woke up what seemed like hours later to a dark room.

It took your eyes a while to adjust stepping out into the hallway illuminated by the light in the kitchen.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice rang out. “Made you a sandwich.”

You rubbed your eyes groggily, looking where he was pointing. Sure enough, there was a sandwich on the table. He sat at the seat adjacent to it.

“Thank you.” You contemplated sitting next to him for dinner. It would be a first.

In the end you just grabbed your plate, giving him a half smile before making your way to the couch. You settled on sitting on the floor instead, leaning your back against the foot of the sofa.

The TV was already halfway through playing Megamind so you just let it continue, mindlessly chewing on the bread. As far as peanut butter sandwiches go, it wasn’t all that bad.

“Wilson,” you called out sheepishly, eyes not leaving the movie. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. It wasn’t right.”

“It’s okay.”

How he let go of it so easily was beyond you. The sandwich was surprising too, but you took it, not wanting to change his mind. He couldn’t have poisoned it. You had checked his stuff.

You sat in silence for the rest of the movie. Your mind kept slipping in and out of thought but it was a comfortable atmosphere you found yourself in.

After the credits started rolling, you went to leave your plate in the sink. Sam brushed past you, grabbing the blanket at the foot of the couch, launching himself onto the cushions.

“What are you doing?” you asked, puzzled as he snuggled in.

“Going to sleep?” He tilted his head to look at you.

“Use the bed.”

“It’s your turn today.”

“Your back’s fucked up. I’ll take the couch.”

He didn’t budge.

“Go on.” You mentioned to the room with a shrug of your shoulder.

“You’re not going to let me argue, are you?”

You pressed your lips into a straight line to hide a smile, shaking your head lightly.

“Well, okay.” He let out a small noise as he got up. “Guess I’m sleeping business class tonight.”

Sam walked past you, careful not to bump into you. You swapped places with him, making your way to the couch, readjusting the blanket that was haphazardly left there.  

“Y/N.” You peered at him from the corner of your eye, only to fully turn when you caught his gaze. “I appreciate it.”

You just nodded, tossing the blanket over yourself as he switched off the light.

Next part

[darkacademicfrom2021]

The Dark Team (part 7)

<<Previous part Masterlist   Next part>>

Join the taglist in here (Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87, @the-departed-potato, @jesuswasnotawhiteman)

Warnings: mentions of suicide and murder, awfully cheesy petnames (yes I have to put a warning on that).

The streets were so cold you had to rub your hands to your neck as you walked. You had only one piece of information that could’ve been possibly linked to that murder, and therefore that stick.

Saying you weren’t worried about being very undercover was a lie; an almost seven feet tall “man” that dressed like a millionaire, and a man with a metal prosthesis and abnormal sized muscles were not exactly the definition of discrete, much less once they were being categorized as “wanted”.

“Are you sure it’s this way?” asked Loki impatiently.

“No”.

“And why…?”.

“Stop torturing me with questions you know the answer of. Shut it and let me do my thing”.

“What is exactly your thing?”.

“Trying to not stab you in the balls, if you keep being this annoying”.

“Alright, guys, keep it down”, mediated Bucky. His role in the team was starting to be more and more like a third wheel in a car that’s trying to break down purposely, and he hated every second of it. “Can’t wait for this mission to be over”.

“Talking about that, we still have a game of cards on hold”.

“We could never play that with Loki, he has mind powers or some shit like that. He’d cheat”.

“Me?” he held a hand to his chest dramatically, “I would never cheat on a cards game. That is dishonest and I would never do such mischievous thing”.

Your phone beeped and the address changed suddenly. You stopped dead on your tracks and both Loki and Bucky, who were walking in line behind you, stumped with each other and almost made you trip.

“Careful, guys”.

“Are you fucking…”.

“Leave it there, Barnes”.

“What happened?”.

“I don’t know, the address suddenly changed. This isn’t supposed to happen”, you hit a few times your phone after it froze, and realized it wouldn’t work anymore. “Well, we’re gonna have to do this the old fashioned way”.

“And how’s that?”.

“How am I supposed to know? You’re the one that's a thousand years old and he’s a hundred and six. I’m barely around the two decades”.

“I’m beginning to think maybe you’re not one for this job. Aren’t you the one in charge of the planning? How did you even get to this Stank Internship in the first place?”.

“Hey, don’t be mean to them. They’ll cry”.

You rolled your eyes and ignored them. Meanwhile, you looked around. You had to find this person. A person who saw the “death” of the man with the pendrive, but the only one who said nothing about it. Only thing you knew was that he was a worker in a coffee shop. Which coffee shop, you’d ask? Well, that’s a good question.

It had to be in the neighborhood, that was for sure. You looked around a bit more, trying to drink in all the information the streets and its habitants could give you.

“The man was killed being thrown off that building. They said it was suicide. It was not”, you finally said out loud, pointing at the direction of one of the tallest buildings of the city. You were too concentrated to even realize you had stopped talking again.

The man you were looking for had to have a full view of the window the guy was thrown off from, so it would be in… that direction. A reasonable distance to see both guys would be less than two blocks. And it happened in an unreasonable hour for a work break, so… it had to be… alright. I think I got it.

“What are we looking for, then?”.

“There has to be a coffee shop maximum two blocks away from one of these three streets, the counter of the bar has to be near the window (or showcase) and the showcase should be tall enough to see the high part of the building, so I’d say at least three meters tall. I assume the man we’re looking for is old and introverted, quiet, not very friendly. Not less than fifty years old”.

“Alright Sherlock”, said Bucky, patting your back. “I’ll write down not to mock your intellect. Now you don’t have to pretend like you just figure that out all by yourself”.

“Okay”, you said, not paying any attention to his words. You were still juicing all the information you could.

“I got lost in the description of the man, how did you reach that conclusion?”, asked Loki, who apparently was reading your mind, following your thought process.

“Well, he’s the only one who didn’t testify at all. The witnesses in this sort of cases go through a polygraph. If all he saw was a suicide, then he wouldn’t be lying, he’d go through the lie detector and go out as if anything happened. Since he saw more, and didn’t say anything, it’s probably because he wanted to protect himself against the law, or just too lazy to go into all the bureaucracy it’d imply”, you explained. Loki had a full blown smile across his face, not even hiding it. “What are you smiling at?”.

“Nothing”, he brushed it off and pretended to fix his tie.

“No, please, do give me your input”.

“I can’t read whether you’re being sarcastic or not”.

“Wanna find out, dear?”.

“Hey, the aggressive pet names are my thing. Get your own passive-aggressive mechanism”.

“Can you concen…? You know what? Whatever. I’m going there”, cut Bucky. He was so done.

You walked as fast as you could down the nearest street out of the three possible ones, and kept rubbing your (now almost numb) cold fingers.

“Buck, do you have a gun with you?”.

“I don’t think this is the best moment to kill yourself. Let us finish the mission first”.

“Though, honestly, I think it could speed things up a little”, added Loki.

“Wow, you guys are especially mean today. We might need something to threaten the guy with”.

“Just a pocket knife. Do you think it could help at all?”, he searched for more weapons in his pockets, but found none. Going undercover, you all had to leave your suits and armor in the hotel room. Loki cleared suggestively his throat and you gasped.

“Really? You can make it out of nowhere?”.

“No, but give me a weird shaped branch or anything similar and I can transform it. Transfigurations have been my specialty lately, though”.

“I love you wholeheartedly”.

“I’d literally marry you on the spot”.

“In fact, I think I might kiss you right now”.

“You guys have no idea how glad I am to know you’re lying”, said Loki, patting Bucky’s back.

To find the place was way easier than you had anticipated. Firstly, because it matched every single aspect you had predicted. Secondly, because it was the only coffee shop in the whole place.

The clicking bell filled the silent place as the scent of fresh coffee and baked goods infested your noses. There was only an old lady reading a paper and the fifty year old you were looking for. Bucky sat down on a table near the counter and you and Loki greeted the man.

“Hi, how are you?” you said with a fake warmth that would assure you his confidence. “We would like a black coffee…”, you looked at Loki, still acting, and he reached your thoughts telepathically to hear your “act, dude; you’re frowning”. He immediately softened up his expressions. “What would you like to drink, dear?”.

“Same as you, darling”, he smiled even faker than you. “So are we pretending to be a couple, now?”.

“Alright, two blacks, please”, you went back to the barista. “Yes, old people get all softies for young couples. Just follow me, we need him to like us”. “And a strawberry milkshake with extra cream and a cherry on top, for the gentleman on the table”.

“Going right up”, said the old man.

“Do you ever take vacations on mocking people?”.

“Never. It’s a true blessing”.

“So, what’s the plan?”.

“Same as it was before, except we can’t actually cause any harm while threatening him, if we do”.

“Why?”.

“Old lady at twelve o’clock?? Man, you really lack any empathy for innocent civilians, don’t you?”.

“Only with mortals. Don’t really care for them”.

“You’re probably lying. I know behind that shell there must be a big soft heart longing for...”.

“Alright, shut up, here comes our order”.

“Thank you, ah, wonderful”, you said, grabbing the cups. You pretended to just notice the news behind the counter, and Loki made the illusion of a highly realistic periodistic note on the suicide of the man with the stick. “Oh my… is that what I think it is?”.

The old man raised his eyebrows, intrigued.

“Uh, is just… don’t watch that, darling. It’ll make you feel sick”, said Loki tenderly, caressing your shoulder. “We sort of saw that… happening, you know?” he explained the old man.

“Oh, really?”.

“Yes, it was really close from here. Oh God, we saw it all happen, this poor man”.

“Very disturbing. Never seen such a gruesome situation in my short, very, very, very short life”, added Loki.

“Alright, we get it, humans live short lives”. “Believe me, you’re so lucky you didn’t have to see that”.

“Really?”, said again the barista, visibly nervous. “That terrible?”.

“Well, it’s a common tragedy, to be honest. But, you know, the cops and investigators were on our backs all night long”.

“Finally free now”, added Loki, still with his arm protectively wrapped around your shoulders. “You’re truly lucky to miss it”.

“Oh, yes. Sounds terrible. Glad didn’t see it, then”, he lied. And he was a bad liar. You didn’t even need Loki to tell you what you could so clearly see.

“And you know… I didn’t think it’d work, but we…” you chuckled innocently, as a kid telling their devilry to a friend, “we sort of lied to the lie detector, and it worked”.

“Love!”, gasped Loki, and lowered his voice “we shouldn’t be telling this to anyone. What if it spreads around?”.

“But, honey, have you seen this man? Why would you think he could wrong us?” you pointed at him and he, as you predicted, blushed with a smile.

“What did you lie about, if I may ask?”. He fell into the trap. You bent over the counter and lowered your voice.

“We saw it was not a suicide”.

Your expressions drew all seriousness and a terrifying look on your eyes gave the man the trust that you were being honest with him. He bent down on the counter too.

“What do you mean?”.

“We saw… oh God”, you started saying, but your eyes watered and Loki didn’t hesitate to hold your head to his chest, comforting you while you sobbed.

“I know, sweetheart, it’s terrible. I know”, he cooed. “We don’t know what to do with this piece of information. The man was thrown off violently, and the things they did to him before…” Loki hinted. The man swallowed hard and started sweating. Loki muttered nonsense, and you continued his empty explanation with sobs that sounded like words but nobody could actually figure out what you meant.

“That sounds awful, wow”, said the man, pretending he heard. Truth was, he didn’t need to insensitively ask for you to repeat yourself. He knew what had happened.

“We wonder what kind of deals could be behind all that, you know?”.

“Yes, very strange, to try to strip the man like that” started saying the old man, too affected by the situation to actually notice he was spilling the true tea. “It sounds like all a very weird business”.

“And that thing they pulled out of him!”.

“Ah… yes”.

You and Loki had started to lose your patience, and figured the man would be harder to interrogate like this than you’d expected. Loki squeezed your shoulder.

“My love, we should get going, don’t you think?”. And with get going he meant knocking the guy off and getting into his memories through Loki’s magic.

“No, my dearest, let’s stay here”, you insisted, without wanting to cause the fuss this was going to make. Ever since you came into the coffee shop, three other family groups had entered and were waiting for their order.

“But, sweet pie… I think we’re shocking the man enough”.

“Oh, please, I just want a normal day, honey bunny. Let’s stay and drink a cuppa here”.

Bucky chuckled at the pet name war you two were having, and the old man looked at you suspiciously. You sighed.

“Alright. Fuck it”.

“You’re cops, aren’t you?”, asked the old man. You fell off your character.

“No… but sorry anyways”, you said, kicking him on the face and smashing his head against the counter, leaving him unconscious.

“That was unnecessarily violent, I could’ve made him sleep with seiðr”, stated Loki, watching the man drip blood from his nose.

“Guys'', said Bucky, watching how all the clients were running away in fear, “I thought we said ‘keep it low, threaten discreetly’. What happened?”.

“For Fuck’s sake, just get into his head already, sweet muffin”.

“Hold his head, baby cakes”.

[kingsuckjin]

Jimin's Body- Teaser

⫸ possessed Jimin x reader

⫸  Genre: horror, (Jennifer's body au)

⫸  Rating: M (18+ for eventual smut and very dark themes)

⫸  Warnings: (for this teaser only) demonic possession, blood, low self worth, mention of being a loner, question of a heart attack, embarrassing childhood story, Jimin might be being teased, hmmm Tae's house is haunted maybe?

⫸ About: This wasn't the party Jimin thought it would be. After the party you knew Jimin wasn't the person you thought he once was either... that is, if he’s a person at all anymore.

⫸  Words:1.8k

-------------

"Taehyung, stop fucking with everyone." You scolded as Jimin stared wide-eyed at the ceiling at the light that had just flickered out.

He had to look tough with you sitting in the circle right across from him on the brown, shag-carpeted floor of this basement that looked like it and its living room-like furniture hadn’t been touched or updated since the 70’s.

It was supposed to be a party, and there indeed was one upstairs blasting music but muffled by the floor above.

You were all supposed to be playing a childish and tipsy game of spin the bottle in the basement.

Jimin was supposed to kiss you. He had only come here because he wanted to spend time with you because you invited him, but so far nothing was going as planned.

"He's not fucking with anyone his house is haunted." Jungkook chuckled while Taehyung gave you a boxy grin. 

Jimin couldn't tell if they were lying or not, he didn't really know anyone here but you and Seokjin, who had already passed out on the basement couch across the room, oblivious to everything happening.

Jimin also thought maybe they were all playing a joke on him, he hadn't said a word to anyone but you and Jin since he had got here.

"He's not lying, I saw a ghost once when I stayed over. I don't even believe in ghosts." The rather stoic guy named Yoongi spoke with his arms crossed.

"Tell them the story Tae." Jungkook urged.

Taehyung's eyes flitted around the circle to each person's face, possibly pausing to add anticipation.

"A woman died in this house." 

"So what? People die everywhere, it doesn't mean a place is haunted." You spoke up, already seeming like you didn’t believe him right from the start.

"She was murdered," Taehyung added.

"Sure." You scoffed as you rolled your eyes.

"She was. Right here in the basement. She ran from the killer and hid in the basement and locked herself in the bathroom. She was supposedly very beautiful and vain. Sometimes if you look in the mirror and tell yourself how nice you look, she'll get jealous and appear, maybe she'll even steal your soul if you're pretty enough." 

Although Jimin had been a little scared at first. He couldn't help but stifle a laugh and a smile at how cliché Taehyung's ghost story sounded and suddenly all eyes in the circle were on him.

"What? You don't believe me?" Taehyung raised his eyebrows at Jimin.

"No one does, Tae. Even if the house is haunted you're obviously dramatizing it." You scoffed.

"I believe it," Yoongi muttered.

"Go in there and do it Jimin." Jungkook urged pointing to a darkened doorway in the basement.

"Oh Jimin, you made her mad." Taehyung teased as he watched the light above begin to flicker back to life just before dying again.

Jimin could feel the "are you serious?" look on his face that he was now giving Jungkook. He didn't know any of these people but you, and you were the one he was afraid of looking like a coward in front of. He cursed at himself in his head for laughing at Taehyung's bad ghost story. He should've just stayed quiet like he always did.

"Go on." Jungkook urged again, ignoring Jimin's surprised look.

"Guys don't. This isn't how you treat new friends. Can we please go back to-" 

"Too scared?" Yoongi now asked Jimin.

"No." He answered more confidently than he felt. Should he be scared? Probably not. Taehyung's story was shit and everyone in the room knew it. They were obviously just picking on him because he was a new friend and shy, right? Jimin didn't really have many friends until he started working at the restaurant with you and Seokjin, he was always just too shy and quiet for friends to really stick. But what if he simply just wasn't this time? What if he became the outgoing popular Jimin he always wanted to be and started over with these new friends. What if he pretended to be everything he wasn't? That’s why he came tonight, he thought if maybe he was all of those things finally, maybe you’d want him. He wasn’t about to mess up the charade he was doing okay at putting on now. 

Jimin stood from his place in the circle of new friends on the floor, trying to stop his nervous legs from shaking.

"So what do I do?" He was wanting to prove them wrong, show them that he wasn't scared and this was all bullshit, even though he knew in the back of his mind that this was how every horror movie and story started.

"Jimin you don't have t-" you were interrupted by a smirking Taehyung. Jimin wondered how he could be so chill about this if it was real.

"Go in the bathroom, don't turn on the lights, look in the mirror, and tell yourself you're pretty and genuinely mean it."

"Oh, so you can all hear me and laugh at me?" Jimin saw a new ploy to their jokes.

"No ones going to laugh at you." Taehyung was serious as he looked Jimin in the eye.

"You've got more balls than I do, new guy." Jimin heard Yoongi say as he looked towards the dark basement bathroom. Something about their suddenly serious tones of voices and the way they were looking at one another now made the fear and nervousness in Jimin’s stomach rise once again. 

"I swear if you're tricking him or you plan on actually making fun of him I swear I won't be your guy's friend anymore, I mean it." Your tone was deadly serious at the group and that gave Jimin some reassurance.

"It's not a joke," Taehyung replied in a way that took away any shred of confidence Jimin had left. What was worse, his new friends playing a prank on him and wanting to embarrass him or something actually happening? Jimin felt fucked either way but still made his legs carry him to the bathroom as he tried to shake off the unsettling feeling Taehyung’s story had left him with.

He wondered if they would stop him and tell him they were just kidding, but as he closed the door and the complete darkness took over the room, he lost any hope of that happening.

The bathroom smelled musty unlike the livable rest of the basement. Although it was a full bathroom with a sink, tub, and toilet, the walls were unfinished. It just felt like someone had given up on the room long ago. 

Jimin placed his hands on each side of the cool, white porcelain sink and looked at himself thoroughly in the mirror in front of him. How was he supposed to tell himself he was good looking and mean it? Jimin felt like he was a timid, friendless, freak. Even this incident reminded him of a sleepover he had in first grade where he got scared and peed his pants and all the boys laughed at him. He knew you'd never want him, not when he was too shy to finally make a move, not when you had all of these cool guy friends.

Jimin placed his hand on his cheek and let his thumb drift over his lips. Have you ever once thought he was handsome? Just once? If you did you wondered what you thought about. Maybe you liked his lips and thought about how good they would feel pressed to yours… or even other places on your body.

Maybe you liked his hair and thought about how nice it would feel to run your hands through it. Perhaps his body? As a dancer, Jimin knew his body was in shape but was it good enough for you to imagine on top of you?

He finally came to the conclusion that maybe he had more in the looks department than most did. That was when he let the words pass his lips.

"I'm attractive." 

The affirmation felt good, he had never once thought to do this before. He continued to look over his features and think about what you might like about him.

"My lips are nice, my hair is nice, my body is nice and I'm so attractive. I'm pretty." 

Jimin began to understand that the others in that room weren't him, they were nothing like him. He had things that they didn't, many things they didn't. Even in the kindness department, Jimin had a leg up, after all, who sends a new friend into a bathroom to scare them? Did they even want to really be friends with him? Probably not. Perhaps they did this out of jealousy. They were probably jealous Jimin was better looking than them, he was a better person than them. They wanted you and couldn't have you, Jimin could.

All Jimin could see in the mirror was darkness all but the beautiful features of his face. He didn't feel the smirk that erupted on it, but he saw it in the mirror and it felt so right.

"I'm the most beautiful here. I am."

Jimin was so lost in himself that he barely noticed the shadow right behind him, reaching out for him with its dark, spindly fingers each tapered to a claw tip.

Jimin did however see the dark liquid begin to drop from his nose, run down his full pips and chin before dripping onto the white porcelain sink in front of him. 

He doubled over with the sudden pain in his chest that hit him faster than a lightning strike. It felt like his heart was being tightened in a vice.

He collapsed completely onto the cold, cracked tiled floor in the dark grunting with a ringing growing overwhelmingly loud in his ears as he waited for the squeezing in his chest to pop his heart like a water balloon.

Could anyone hear him? Surely someone had to. What was happening? He wondered if he was suffering a heart attack. Was he dying?

The pain was so terrible and felt like it was lasting so long that Jimin had tried to dig his fingers into the tile until his knuckles turned white.

Over the piercing ringing, Jimin could hear soft whispers that didn't make sense at first. The whispering of a woman. The longer he listened as his vision began to fade, the more he was able to make sense of the words.

"Let me in. I can make your dreams come true. I can give you everything you want, just let me in Jimin." Whatever it was knew his name, and it knew about you and how much he liked you. it felt like whatever the voice was was burrowing around in his brain looking for something.

Jimin felt weaker and weaker as his struggling against the pain lessened the more he decided to give up.

"Fine." Jimin had struggled to say, but once he did, everything stopped. Everything turned black, even his thoughts of you had melted away into the darkness.

[lacependragon]

The newest episode of the Tokyo Mew Mew reboot is the single worst and most poorly written episode of an anime I've seen in like two years.

It's inconsistent. Paced badly. The dialogue is terrible. And the theme is completely inconsistent. The girls actively go backwards. And Zakuro's goal?? Her desires??? Outside of "gotta go better" are gone. Like when Mint starts doing her monologue, it should have been about how they kept mistreating Zakuro and acting like she was a goddess, not about we gotta grind. Like why did Zakuro change sides because Mint joined the grind?

Why did she care?

Why did Mint's intense stare matter?

We don't know. We know only two things about Zakuro - she wants to surpass herself, and she's kind of an asshole. Yet we had hints that she's lonely and hates being idolized! So why was that ball completely dropped?

Mint's speech should have been about that. About noticing how Zakuro reacts to how they treat her. But nope.

It's about grind culture.

So now this is two members of the Mews who have gotten their entire team beat the FUCK UP and maybe close to dying because they won't stop being arrogant little prises who think the world revolves around them.

And that's fine! That's part of life and being a teenager!

WHY THE FUCK ARE THEY BEING REWARDED FOR IT THOUGH.

THIS IS A SHOUJO. FOR PRETEENS.

SHOULDN'T IT SAY THAT BEING AN ASSHOLE TO YOUR FRIENDS IS SOMETHING YOU SHOULD APOLOGIZE FOR.

INSTEAD OF COMPLETELY SKIPPING OVER IT.

And if not, the tone of the show says that friendship matters. And owning up to your mistakes is part of friendship.

so why don't they?

And why is it that whenever the show wants to be dramatic they have people say names, and "I [verb]" and nothing else.

I'm so fucking annoyed. Zakuro's got a brilliant character and now she's just. Rich famous girl trying to be a perfectionist. They completely skipped over how fucking lonely she is. What.

God.

Also Mint never apologized for being a complete ass to her friends and that's dumb. She's been selfish, lazy, mean, and she finally got called out for her and her response was I'm gonna become just like my idol, who insulted me, and not apologize to my friends.

WHY DIDNT SHE APOLOGIZE. WHY DIDNT SHE ACKNOWLEDGE SHES BEEN A DICK.

I KNOW THE ORIGINAL. I'm not bitching at a kid's show for being underwhelming and weak. Okay. I KNOW IT. I LOVE the original.

I'm bitching that I know for a fact they can do much, much better even in small spaces and on individual episodes. That they have all this source material.

And yet all the characters, this time around, are single, one note traits and "nice" and nothing else. With no. Fucking. Edges.

God.

[blueskrugs]

Four Times His Teammates Said “I Love You,” and One Time He Did | Vince Dunn

for @captainpetty​ and Erin who encouraged the hell out of me while I wrote this (and the other Vince 4+1 I was writing at the same time whoops)

length: 3.8k words

Brayden Schenn You’d been dating Vince Dunn three months before you met the rest of the team. You hadn’t minded, really. You were more than content to hang at one of your apartments on nights off, watching movies and HGTV shows and eating takeout. Vince had told you once that he didn’t want them to meet you purely because they could just be a lot, but sometimes you wondered if there was more to it than them just being a loud group of guys.  You tried not to be insecure, but it could be hard when your boyfriend was unfairly good looking and also in the NHL. 

You waited for Vince near the locker room after a game, nervously fidgeting with your phone, standing apart from the other WAGs. There were conversations happening around you as other boys trickled out of the locker room, but you stayed out of them, feeling out of place and like you didn’t belong. 

You were so distracted and caught up in your head that you didn’t notice that Vince had emerged until he swept you up into a hug, spinning you around once for good measure. They had won, and Vince had scored a goal in the process, and he was clearly still a little high on adrenaline. You laughed as he bent down to kiss you but ducked your head and blushed when you heard his other teammates whistling. You were pretty sure Vince flipped them off behind his back, but then he was leaning down to kiss you again, and it didn’t really matter.

A win meant the boys were going out, and Vince had told you he wanted you to come with them this time. You piled into his car with Sammy, still quiet as your thoughts raced. You had fought with Sammy for shotgun and won, but you were mostly worrying about whether or not everyone else on the team would like you. You didn’t really understand why it seemed so important to you that they did, other than the fact that you knew they meant everything to Vince.

The bar was loud and crowded, between fans and twenty-something large hockey players and their assorted significant others. All of you managed to find a spot in a corner. You were wedged up between Sammy and Vince, with Vince’s arm draped over your shoulders and a beer in your hand. You let yourself listen to their conversations, carefully free of hockey talk, save for when a particularly brave fan came over to talk about the game. The boys asked you questions for a while, but a bar is hardly the place for small talk. Your tables were near a dartboard, and Brayden Schenn and Colton Parayko had pulled away to play. You watched, resting your head on Vince’s shoulder, as they got more and more frustrated when the darts weren’t landing where they wanted them to.

“You ever play?” Vince asked, nudging your head a little.

“Not really,” you lied. Really, one of your older brothers and your dad had taught you when you were a kid, and you were actually pretty good. None of them knew that though, and you wanted to have a little fun. 

Vince lit up, just like you knew he would, and dragged you over to Brayden and Colton. He kicked them off the dartboard, suddenly excited all over again at the prospect of teaching you something. He spent like fifteen minutes pressed up behind you as he showed you how to stand, how to hold a dart, the right way to throw it. It was more than a little cute. By the time he was done, you were dying to tell him the truth, but you also wanted to play it up a little more. So when he let go of you and told you to, “Show us what you’ve got, babe,” you deliberately threw it poorly. And again. And through a whole game against Brayden and Colton.

“Let me try again,” you begged, eyes maybe a little too wide, voice a little too eager. Vince looked at Brayden and Colton, who both shrugged good-naturedly. “I think I’m getting the hang of it now.”

“Put some money on it this time!” Perron yelled from the table. Okay, he may have been onto you a little bit. 

You pouted at Vince until he sighed and pulled out some cash for both of you, throwing it onto the table next to what Schenner and Colton had put down. You made sure to let Brayden and Colton go first this time. For dramatic effect, you drank the last of Vince’s beer before turning and nailing a bullseye. You were met with raised eyebrows, but you just shrugged.

“Got lucky, I guess?” You could hear David Perron laughing for sure now. 

The rest of the game continued like that, with your throws true to aim each time, and Schenner and Parayko very quickly becoming frustrated again. The rest of the guys were paying close attention now, joining in Perron’s laughter and chirps. 

“Alright, fuck you, what the hell?” Colton asked as you swept their cash off the table, but he was laughing too.

“Dunner, I think I’m in love with your girlfriend,” Brayden said, slumped over the table. Kelsey made a noise of protest somewhere behind you. You laughed and tried not to think about how good it felt to have been accepted, a smile never leaving your face for the rest of the night. 

Robert Thomas It was the beginning of summer, and you were at the Tarasenko’s (frankly, ridiculously large) house for one last team barbecue before everyone scattered to the four corners of the earth. The Blues had gotten knocked out of the playoffs early, and, honestly, it had been kind of ugly. Vince and Sammy had wallowed around their apartment for a couple of days, but today everyone seemed determined to bask in the sun and relax (and maybe drink too much beer). 

You had been in the pool for a bit, while the sun was still high in the sky, but it was only early May, and before long you got too cold. You were making your rounds, chatting with Jayne and Dayna and Yana. Vladi was in his element cooking, and Petro and Schwartzy were fulfilling their duties as team mom and dad, keeping an eye on the young guys on the team. 

It was loud and energetic, but it was comfortable and it was nice to see all the boys relaxed after the end of the season and the playoffs. You wandered over to Vince where he was part of the group playing Spike Ball in the grass. They were all way too into it, in the nature of being competitive athletes, and you watched for a while, sipping on a Truly and laughing when one of them ended up sprawled across the grass dramatically.

Vince and Sammy eventually got kicked off the game, and Vince came over and wrapped an arm around your waist. He plucked the Truly out of your hands and took a drink before making a face.

“Gross. How do you girls drink these things?” he asked. 

You scoffed. “As if you guys didn’t drink your fair share of Bud Lights when you won the Cup,” you said. Vince rolled his eyes but didn’t have a good comeback for that one. 

Vince got distracted after standing with you for a couple of minutes and went off with Sammy to annoy Petro. You were pretty sure Perron was encouraging them. Soon it was Robert Thomas standing next to you.

“What do you want, Robby?” you asked, at the same time Robert said: “Will you steal me another beer?”

Now, you knew Schwartzy had cut Robby off after two beers, but you also knew that he’d had at least one more since then. You shot him a look.

“Why am I doing your dirty work? I don’t wanna face Schwartzy’s wrath.”

“Please?” Damn him. You knocked back the rest of your Truly before sighing one more time and heading off to find a beer that you weren’t even going to get to drink. 

It was nearly ten minutes before you could make it back to Robby, and you only narrowly avoided being thrown back into the pool by Kyrou. You slipped the beer to Robby, who took it gratefully. You rolled your eyes.

“I want it on record that I hate you sometimes.”

“I love you, too,” Robby said, draping an arm across your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your cheek. You let yourself smile, even though you knew he was a little drunk and that it was just the beer talking. 

Colton Parayko  The boys were coming home from a road trip, and you were in Vince’s kitchen, baking cookies. Technically, Vince had given you the spare key to his apartment four months into your relationship “for emergencies,” but you were craving snickerdoodles, and he had a better kitchen than you. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that they’d been in California for nearly two weeks, and you knew that they were Vince’s favorite cookies. 

He texted you when they got off the plane, asking if you’d come over, while also warning you that some of the guys would be coming home with him.  You carefully didn’t tell him that you were already waiting in his apartment. You were just pulling the last of the cookies out of the oven when you heard the front door open behind you, and several loud hockey players spilled through the doorway. You listened as they dropped their bags and shed their shoes, focused on trying not to burn yourself as you transferred cookies to a cooling rack. 

You felt an arm wrap around your waist, and another arm reached around you to steal a cookie. You knew it was Colton based on the sheer size and leaned into him a little bit.

“What did we do to deserve you baking us cookies? I think I love you, Y/N,” he said, immediately followed by, “Hot, shit, hot,” when he took a bite out of the cookie.

“Careful, those just came out of the oven,” you said, ducking out of Colton’s grasp to run and hug Vince.

He was laughing, and he thanked you for the cookies with a kiss, but he didn’t say anything else. The rest of the guys crowded into the kitchen for cookies, but Vince stayed plastered to your side. There was a chorus of thanks from his teammates, and you settled into the noisy chaos that came with being friends with a group of hockey players. 

Sammy Blais The last time was actually almost the end of your relationship with Vince. It had been one of those stereotypically terrible days where you slept through your alarm, spilled your coffee on the way to work, and then nothing else seemed to go your way the whole day. You made your way over to Vince’s apartment after work without texting, but you knew they had a day off and would be chilling. All you really wanted was some food and cuddles, but you knew at the very least you’d have to deal with Sammy, since they still lived together. 

You let yourself in with a sigh; those idiots never actually locked their front door. 

“Vince?” you called out, kicking off your shoes by the door, but it was Sammy who poked his head around the corner.

“Hey, Y/N. He’s streaming right now, but I was about to order dinner,” Sammy says with a smile. That’s Sammy for you, always smiling. You groan, suddenly feeling tears burning behind your eyes. Your head was beginning to hurt. 

“Of fucking course. You know what? Forget I came here, I’m just gonna go home,” you said, turning back to put your shoes back on, angrily trying to blink back those stupid tears. 

“Hey now, none of that,” Sammy said quietly, suddenly behind you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into his chest. Distantly, you could hear Vince yelling at his Fortnite game. “I’m ordering all of us dinner, and then we’re gonna lay on the couch while we wait.”

You wandered into the living room and settled on the couch, listening to Sammy order your favorite from the kitchen, before he came back. You could still hear Vince playing Fortnite in the other room. You vaguely wondered who he was playing with if Sammy was in here with you. It didn’t matter, though, because Sammy was pulling you into his lap and maneuvering the two of you until you were cuddling to his satisfaction. You immediately felt some of the tension you’d been carrying in your shoulders all day release. 

Sammy rested his chin on your head, your face pressed into his chest. Cuddling with Vince’s teammates was hardly a rare occurrence; they were almost always in some sort of dog pile, and you often got dragged into it. (You would never really admit to how much you loved it, and you would complain about being trapped under hockey players until the day you died.) Both of you were quiet for a moment.

“Are you gonna tell me what all this is about today?” Sammy asked gently, poking you in the side. You poked him back but buried your face in his chest a little bit more. He poked you again, harder this time. “C’mon,” he said, “tell me what’s wrong or I won’t let you eat.”

You knew Sammy would never actually do that, but you launched into the tale of your day anyway, beginning when you woke up and even including the argument you’d had with your mom at lunch, about Vince no less. You didn’t realize you were crying as you vented, more out of frustration than actual sadness, until Sammy tightened his arms around you, shushing you. 

“Stop that.” You laughed a little. Sammy was needy all day long, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was good with emotions, much less his best friend’s crying girlfriend. “That’s better. You’ve gotta remember that no matter what shit happens we all love you, right? You make us cookies, and who else am I supposed to cuddle with?”

Vince chose that moment to walk into the room, stretching. “What’s for dinner?” he asked, completely oblivious. You pulled back from Sammy, but his words were still echoing sharply in your head. Words Vince had never said, but so many of his teammates had no problems telling you casually. 

Vince Dunn You had been with Vince for almost a year. Just shy of eleven months, if you really wanted to get specific. All those months, and you had never heard Vince say, “I love you.” You wanted to see it as no big deal. He certainly cared about you, and he knew the little things like your favorite flavors of candies and the way you drank your coffee when you made it at home versus your Starbucks order. He indulged in your stress baking, and he stayed up late with you to binge your favorite shows. 

It was just something you thought about, as time went on, spending nights at his apartment, stealing his hoodies, and cuddling after long days and road trips. It was what distracted you when you were running your fingers through his curls, and it was what kept you awake at night when he was in another city. 

You had said it, more than once. The first time had been more of an accident, the “I love you” slipping out while you were laughing at a story he was telling about Sammy doing something stupid; you had both frozen when you registered what you had said, but you’d moved on. Soon you realized that that mistake was definitely not a mistake. You were falling in love with Vince Dunn, and it scared you. You told him again one night, in the dark where he couldn’t see your face, the fear of rejection you were sure was there. He had kissed you and pulled you closer, but he didn’t say it back. It terrified you, that you were falling so hard for someone when you had absolutely no idea how he felt about you.

You tried your hardest not to think about the stories you had heard when you first met Vince–all the things about wheeling girls at home and girls waiting for him in different cities. You tried to remind yourself of the nights spent with his head in your lap while you played with his hair, the way he looked fondly at Sammy when he was being an idiot, how good he was with kids. You had long since learned that the cool Vince Dunn who got into fights on the ice was a front; the real Vince Dunn was actually soft as hell, but only people he trusted could see that side of him. You’d seen that side of him from the very beginning, so surely he had to love you too, right?

All these doubts were running through your mind more and more often, and you started pulling away, shutting down–you were quiet when you were with Vince, and you found yourself making excuses for not spending time together. You didn’t think Vince noticed, either, but you missed the worried looks he shot you when you pulled away from his cuddles.

It all came to a head one November night when you were over at his apartment. He was still up playing video games, and Sammy had just gone to bed. You were curled up under a blanket and in one of Vince’s team hoodies, the 29 on your shoulder like a brand. You’d been thinking all night, but especially as you watched Vince smile at whatever was said on the other end of his headset; you weren’t really listening to whatever his response was. You had decided a couple days before, while Vince was on a plane home from a road trip, that you really needed to talk, and you’d spent the days since then rehearsing the words in your head, but they never sounded right.

“Vince, what’re we doing here?” you blurted. Okay, that still didn’t sound good, and you definitely hadn’t meant to say it right then. Vince looked up at you, startled, and you heard him mutter a rushed apology and goodbye as he ended the game with whoever he was playing with. He dropped his controller on the floor with a clatter as he stood up. 

Vince pulled you onto his lap, and you went, still tense, but tucking your face into his neck. “Baby, I don’t know what you mean,” Vince started. You both knew that was a lie.

“You know we’ve been together almost a year, right?” Vince sighed above you, and you knew those still weren’t the right words. “I love you, Vince, and it’s fine if you don’t feel the same way, but I just don’t think I can stay if you don’t. I just-I can’t keep waiting around, I don’t think I can handle another summer of you in Toronto while I’m still here in St. Louis and I don’t know what you’re doing-” At this point you were just rambling.

Vince cursed under his breath and shoved you off his lap. You watched, confused, and more than a little hurt, as he jumped up and ran towards Sammy’s room as fast as he could in socked feet. He pushed Sammy’s door open without knocking and disappeared inside; you heard Sammy’s muffled swearing– possibly in French– and the sounds of Vince throwing things around.

You had half a thought to get up and leave when Vince burst back out of Sammy’s room, flushed and flustered. Vince was rushing back towards you, tripping over his feet and landing in a heap at your feet. Without thinking, you reached out and pushed his curls out of his face.

“I, shit, I wanted to do this well, wanted to wait until next month,” Vince said, out of breath, “but that clearly wasn’t the best idea.” What you thought was impending heartbreak was just fading into confusion. “I know I froze the first time you told me you loved me. I fucked that up. But then I was trying to figure out how I felt, and then when I did figure it out, I wanted to make it perfect, and then I had to ask for advice, and then-”

You laughed a little then, because Vince was the one rambling now, and all of his words were coming out rushed, like he thought you still might get up and walk out of his apartment right then, in your pajama shorts and his hoodie. “Vince, slow down, you’re freaking me out a little.” Vince just blinked up at you for a moment, green eyes wide and still a little frantic.

“I love you so much, Y/N. And I was an idiot for not telling you months ago. But I’m telling you now, and I mean it. I love-” You cut Vince off again, this time with a kiss, pulling him up by his collar to reach your lips. You felt him relax underneath your hands.

He climbed back up onto the couch, kissing you gently one last time. “Part of the reason I needed to wait was because I needed to find this,” he said, pulling a jewelry box out of his pocket. He opened it quickly to reveal a simple silver bar necklace, engraved with a small heart and a 29. You had to kiss him again. Suddenly the rush to Sammy’s room made more sense. “And when it came in, I had to hide it from you. It’s a miracle Sammy didn’t say anything. I was trying to figure out a way to ask you to come to Toronto with me this summer, too–whenever the season ends, for however long you can get out of work, I want you up there with me.”

Vince let you wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him again, sliding his arms underneath your legs to carry you to bed. You were tired all of a sudden, and you let him set you on his bed, watched as he carefully placed the necklace on his dresser. He climbed into bed next to you, shifting both of you around until he was mostly laying on top of you and you could wrap one arm around him and run your fingers through his curls with the other. 

“‘M sorry,” he whispered ten minutes later, long after you thought he was well on his way to sound asleep, the words mostly muffled into your chest. Your fingers paused until he made a plaintive sound and moved his head so you would keep going. You rolled your eyes a little. 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” you whispered back. Anything louder felt like it would break whatever spell had fallen over the darkness, the quiet and peace you were feeling.

“I love you,” Vince whispered again instead of explaining. “I love you.” 

You fell asleep like that, with your hand tangled in his hair, and your legs tangled together underneath the sheets, murmuring “I love you”s back and forth.