#made me almost cry writing this part but hey

[iamstillovingyou]

Under the cherry blossom

Kang Dae-ho x reader fluff, comfort Summary: Realizing how important Dae-ho has been to you throughout the games and providing comfort to each other Warnings: PTSD, panic attack, anxiety etc. spoilers for squid game s2

hey guys, this is my first ever try at writing something on here, so please be kind! I can't stop thinking about Dae-ho from Squid Game and my daydreams gave me this idea, so I thought it might be good to write about it. I incorporated some of the events from s2 as well as the ending, inserting reader as part of the group with Dae-ho. I used 'you' throughout the whole fic. Hope you enjoy it! Word count: 1k As the lights went out and everyone retired to their beds with just a few voices chattering away or snoring around the hall, your anxiety started spiking up. You had tried to keep your cool during the games, but one harrowing experience after another left you disturbed. Thinking about the most recent game 'Mingle' left your mind in a whirl. You were wondering how you managed to survive every single round of it. The fact that you were a part of a group of people who became your friends and protectors definitely helped you stay alive so long. But, one particular person you kept thinking of was Dae-ho, who kept close to you throughout the whole game. As soon as they'd announce the number, Dae-ho would grab your hand and run for your lives, hoping to secure the number of people and a room. In the last round, as you were considering the possibility of the number two being announced, you felt a tight grip on arm and turned back to look Dae-ho in the eyes. He gave you a nod of reassurance. You held on to him for dear life. Now that you were alive for the ordeal of the next game, your mind focused on Dae-ho. Ever since you joined their group, he was always looking out for you, making sure you're okay and making little jokes to ensure you keep your mind off the horrifying reality that any of you might not be there the next day. You had got used to him and found his presence soothing and his concern for you during the last game intrigued you.

You started worrying about the next game and felt an oncoming panic attack. You had to talk to someone. You turned your head to the right, to the bed where Dae-ho was sleeping. Hesitatingly, you whispered into the darkness: 'Dae-ho', not hoping for answer. After just a second you heard a quiet 'Yes?' 'Dae-ho, are you sleeping?' Then followed silence. You had almost started regretting calling out his name, especially as you didn't like asking for help. But your thoughts were interrupted by Dae-ho shuffling from his bed and kneeling next to yours. 'Are you okay? Is something wrong?' You tried to make out his face in the faint light, his eyes only two dots shining. 'Dae-ho, I'm scared' you blurted out. You had been scared since the beginning, but managed to keep fear at bay. Now it overwhelmed you completely. Dae-ho kept his voice low 'I know. This place is a nightmare, but we are strong, right?, he said as he took your hand in his, 'We've made it so far, we just have to stick together, okay?'. As he said this he sat down on the side of your bed, taking your hand in his. You sat up, feeling the warmth of his hand. You nodded, but tears started swelling in your eyes. 'Dae-ho, what if we do not make it out of here?' you asked as a hot tear rolled down your cheek, you trying to hold in the sobs bubbling in your throat. 'Remember the bridge you were telling me about? With the cherry blossoms and the pond? How magical it is in the springtime?' You nodded. 'Well, picture it. Imagine us there, walking over it on a sunny day, the breeze blowing the petals softly around us. We're safe and happy. You'll take me there when we get out of here, right?', he flashed his charming smile, wiping away the tear from your cheek. You let out a quiet chuckle, trying not to burst out crying. You had told him about your hometown and how you loved that spot in the springtime and how you longed to see it again. He had listened. 'I promise' you whispered as he kissed your hand. 'Now try to get some sleep, we need to be ready for whatever is coming tomorrow', he said and retreated to his bed.

The next day brought its own challenges. Gi-hun's knowledge of the system had helped your group stay alive thus far. His next proposal was to organize an attack on the guards and their leader. You knew it was a great risk and tried to hide your concern for Dae-ho who was determined to be a part of it. He kept glancing at you as they were making the plan. He knew the danger he was exposing himself to, but he was ready to do anything to make sure you two to walk out of there alive. Before they headed out the door, you ran up to him. 'Dae-ho!' He turned to look at you with his soft gaze, his lips thinning into a line. You took a deep breath. 'I'll be waiting for you", you said and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

... All you could hear were shots being fired. You had just managed to calm yourself a bit, when you saw Dae-ho entering through the door, your face lighting up at the relief. He was back. You ran up to him, smiling on the verge of tears. He looked terrified and went straight to the dead guards on the floor fumbling around in their pockets taking the ammo. You tried talking to him but he wasn't responding, focused on collecting all the charges. You noticed what he was doing and helped him, piling them up in a bundle in the green hoodie. 'Stay here' he said and ran out the door. Confused, you went back to the beds, praying everything was going to turn out alright. Several minutes later, you saw Dae-ho reentering and hiding himself away in one of the beds, holding his palms over his ears, visibly shaking. A second later, player 120 came after him, you could see them talking about something. You ran up to them and found out what had happened. As you put your arms around Dae-ho and he laid his head against your chest, new guards entered and started shooting at the ceiling. 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry', he kept repeating. You held him tightly, bracing yourself for whatever was coming next. 'Remember the cherry blossoms, we're safe and happy'.

[aritsukemo]

Invisible Scars | Multiple Characters

Summary: In which the night before leaves you traumatized and causes your emotionally constipated/emotionally reserved friend to seek you out.

Warnings: Purposely vague descriptions ahead ( no names are mentioned besides yours ). Reader killed someone and is negatively reeling from it. Blood is mentioned but nothing seriously descriptive. All that said, read at your own risk!

A/N: I got the idea to write this after scrolling through @creativepromptsforwriting's sideblog and finding this prompt. I plan to tag characters who come to mind, but this is really an open drabble so feel free to imagine whomever you see fits! :D

Tagging: @nursedflowers and @saioratral

The high-pitched screech that bounced off the walls was a sound one would typically associate with tea at it's boiling point or maybe a hotpot screaming to be eaten. One thing that certainly would not have come to mind was a running faucet—specifically one that ran water so hot that it made even the durable metal cry out in pain.

The incessant shrieking, as annoying as it was, didn't faze the girl who sat before the sink. It was as if the noise was never there...which actually wouldn't be that far off from the truth.

In reality, she couldn't hear a thing aside from the same bloodcurdling screams.

Her hands worked as if they were trying to create a fire. They slide together at blinding speed, rubbing against one another so hard that a few more minutes of it would surely cause a tear in the skin of her palms.

Part of her wished that would actually happen.

A knock on the door sounds followed by the mellow hum of her friend's voice as he called from the other side, "Y/n. Are you still in there? It's me."

Heavy silence replaces her much needed answer, and if it weren't for the faint sound of running water, he would've been none the wiser in assuming she wasn't in there. Since that wasn't the case, however, he had no other choice but to try again.

"Y/n," He calls only for the same result. He then tries a third time, "Y/n!"

Silence. He sighs. Guess he has no other choice.

"Forgive the intrusion," With that gentle request serving as a small warning, he takes his time to twist the knob, giving her more than enough time to make herself presentable if need be as he swung the door open at a turtle's pace and peered inside.

As he suspected, she was standing at the sink, her back facing the door and preventing him from seeing what she was doing—not that he needed to. The steam, the running water, the uncomfortable sound of her hands sloshing together and sounding like two blades clashing...it all gave him an inkling of what was happening.

But how long has she been doing this for? He was almost to scared to ask. Almost.

"You've been in here for a while now," He said, and unlike his usual tone, his voice was dipped in uncharacteristic gentleness and sounded rather withheld. It was as if he was being held at swordpoint, and even then, it was surprising to hear him sound that way.

Maybe if she was paying attention she would've heard it and teased him about it. Possibly cracked a joke or two about him finally growing soft enough to warm up to her after all these years.

But instead he received silence and that scared him more than any enemy he's has faced in his lifetime.

"Hey," He called out again, but this time more sternly. He also didn't give her nearly as much time to answer. Not that she likely would.

"You can stop now. I doubt your hands are that dirty.." He's slow with his steps, closing the distance bit by bit, "Hell, by now, your hands are probably cleaner than mine."

She doesn't move, flinch, or do anything that would acknowledge that his words had reached her. It was as if she was in a trance, put under a spell of some kind or was a victim to some hypnotism caused by unknown means.

In a sense, what was happening right now was kinda like that.

In the matter of a minute or so, he's close enough to reach out for her delicate wrist. He does just that, but not too long after he snatches his hand away. He then paused, looking at his hand before looking back up at her with horrid shock gleaming off his hues.

This water was hot. Really hot. Hotter than any water boiled for food or tea.. He's surprised that the droplets don't just evaporate as soon as they leave the faucet.

"You don't feel that?" He leans in, getting closer to her face as his brows furrow, "Does that not hurt?"

He already knew the answer—of course it did—but the fact that she wouldn't answer him struck a nerve and in the end he finds himself grabbing her roughly by the wrist and snatching her away from that molten lava altogether.

He shuts off the water quickly after that, putting the annoying whistling it produced to an abrupt end. It seemed only then that the trance she was put under was broken and she was finally able to think and move for herself again.

As he lets go of her wrist, she finds herself opening her palms and staring down at them. She stares for a long while. Just opening and closing her palms repeatedly and rubbing her fingertips together, as if she was examining a foreign object.

The skin of her palms looked as if she had ran them across a rough surface for an hour; puffy with an angry hue of red to them.

They were a deep shade, just like... She clenches her teeth. He's quick to notice.

"If this is about the other day.." He began, his words dying in his throat as he watched as she flinched away at his very words.

He knew this would happen in the end. He tried to warn them all but nobody wanted to listen to reason. They sent this fragile glasswork into that cage of knives and sharp fangs without a care in the world and left him with the job of mending anything that was broken back together.

It truly irked him. More than something like this usually would.

"If... If you were in my shoes yesterday.." She began slowly and quietly, and despite her voice sounding like a mouse's squeak and a part of his blood boiling at the sound of it, he bit his tongue and held back his snapping comment.

Right now was not the time to be reckless. Too hard of a hit—or any pressure at all really—would cause his dear friend to shatter into a million pieces and he can't have that. How would he be able to fix her up in that condition?

"If you were me last night, if... If you had your weapon to that person's throat. ...If they begged you through their sobs and reduced to a blubbering mess...going on and on about how they needed to live.." She pauses, whether that was because she noticed how her voice grew more and more unsteady with every word she spoke or the fact that her hands had begun to tremble was unknown to even her. It seemed that at this point she was unsure of, well, everything.

And at that point, her friend saw no better of a time than to take a risk and speak his mind.

"If you plan to continue on to ask me if I would've still killed them than let me spare us both the time; I would in a heartbeat."

She laughs at him, her giggle sounding like a sick bird trying to sing. It should be comforting to here despite it's raspiness. After all, despite it not sounding exactly like her usual laughter, it's a miracle she's able to laugh at all. He should be sighing out of relief that she still seems to be gripping onto her sanity enough to find humor in such a dank situation.

But he couldn't, and all because of the simple fact that he had grown used to her sounding so full of life. It was truly a pity.

"I suppose that was a silly question of me to ask you of all people."

In all this time, he's noticed she hasn't looked up from her hands once. It was unnerving to see her like this, but there was nothing he could truly do about it. He could direct her attention elsewhere, sure, but that wouldn't stop the swarming of her thoughts or reduce her heightened awareness of what was once staining her hands and forearms. And, it surely wouldn't halt the constant loop of that incident from playing in her mind—that moment of her taking a life with her own hands, in a quite grotesque way at that.

Her mind was stained just like her skin and just like how she couldn't truly rid herself of the grimy feeling of blood sticking to her skin no matter how hard she scrubbed, he couldn't wipe her mind of what happened. They were both truly powerless.

But he had to do something. Now that they've gotten her foot out of the door, she has to walk through it. There's no backing out of this, she knew this when she went on that mission yesterday. There was no way but forward. He knew that better than anyone.

"Nevermind what happened, come on," He slides his hand up her arm, over her shoulder, and dips down to the upper part of her back where he gently pushes her in the direction of the door, all as he tells her, "You should get off your feet and actually rest. You'll need it for tomorrow.."

For the first time that night, she glances up at him. It was for a mere moment, but that quick second was all he needed. Her eyes..were like a starless sky; completely devoid of it's usually glimmer of life. It was as if he was staring at a solider who's spent the last decade at war.

Truly astounding how such a look was formed just after a single night.

Wordlessly, she allows him to push her in the direction of the door as if she weighed nothing. She walked slowly, and as she did she looked back down at her clean, reddened hands. Her eyes sinking even more as she does.

She finds herself wondering if the blood she felt would ever go away—if it were possible that her palms would be capable of ever being truly clean again—and that led her to softly murmur to the only one she could think of turning to; her companion and partner in crime, him.

"Does it.. Does this ever get better?" She asks to which she receives probably the heaviest sigh she's ever heard in her life. It tells her all she needs to know but does little to quell the turmoil in her heart. It has her questioning if she'll be able to handle the path forward. If she'll reach the end or go insane halfway through.

Whatever happens, she finds herself praying that she'll be able to walk this path hand in hand with someone who's treaded this gravel before.

..And it so happens that a person like that is leading her to her bedroom right now. How convenient.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[kooggukk]

after hours | jjk

summary. one night, after a long rehearsal, jungkook lingers in the makeup room.

pairing: idol!jungkook x makeupartist!reader

contains: smut, unprotected sex (cum on stomach)

note: hey guys, i don have much experience writing smut, but we could say i tried my best lol nways enjoy :)

word count: 2.2k

the room was quiet, the loudness of the city could be barely be audible, muffled by the large window as you packed away your brushes for the night. it was past midnight, the clock close to hitting 1 am. the rest of the staffs have left long ago, leaving you alone. you enjoyed the calmness and loneliness after a long day. almost like it gave you a moment to breathe, to come down from the constant rush of keeping up with bts’s eternal busy schedule.

just when you packed everything away and was ready to leave, the door slightly creaked open. you looked up quickly, your heartbeat slowed down when you noticed jungkook poking his head in.

“you still here?” he asked, his voice was low and rough, his throat must have gone dry from all the practice.

he leaned against the doorframe, his hair sweaty, the sleeves of his black hoodie were pushed up enough to reveal the tattoos on his skin. definitely that’s the hottest part on his body.

“gotta clean up after your mess,” you teased with a smile, his eyes glanced to the desk. makeup smudged over it, dirty tissues, q-tips, some brushes that you didn’t use much anymore were scattered all over it.

he chuckled and stepped inside the room finally, he closed the door behind himself. you heard the click of the lock that made your stomach flip. the room felt more smaller by now, more.. intimate you could say.

“you sure that’s all?” his tone was light, almost playful, but when he turned around to look at you, there was something in his eyes — a glint, hinted at the unspoken tension that had been lingering between the two of you for weeks now.

you raised an eyebrow, “what else would i be here for?”

a faint smirk got on his lips and he started walking towards you, painfully slowly.

you gulped, his eyes dropped down to your neck for a second, then back to your face. when he got to you, he didn’t mutter a single word and just plopped down on the makeup chair.

you frowned, obviously you weren’t going to do his makeup at this hour. your eyes followed his hand, smudging the makeup from the table onto his finger, which he smeared on the black sweatpants he wore, on his crotch.

“think you missed a spot?” he looked up at you with desire in his eyes, his tone playful. you took a deep breath, “what?” you muttered with big eyes that stared right back at him, glancing between his eyes and the spot on his pants.

fuck, you could see the shape of it, the makeup matched his skin color, the curiosity of how it looked like made you go feral, all you wanted to do right now is fuck him till you were the one crying, till the shape of his cock was carved into your insides.

the room felt heavy, the air thick with something you couldn't quite place. you walked over to him, his eyes following your every step. you tried to ignore the way your heart sped up under his stare.

you grabbed a wet tissue from the desk, he stood up behind you, his chest pressed against your back. “tell me you feel this too,”

your breath caught in your throat as his words hung in the air between you, thick and heavy. you tried to laugh it off, but your heart betrayed you, thudding loudly in your chest as if it wanted to answer for you. his gaze didn’t waver, dark eyes searching your face through the mirror, waiting for a reaction.

you cleared your throat as you focused on the tissue again, wiping the table but the trembling in your hands exposed you.

“feel what?” your voice was quieter than you intended to, you didn’t dare to look up, knowing you’d be faced with his serious, desire full eyes.

“this, ___.” he sighed and he sneaked his hands on your hips, holding you tightly. your eyes closed, the contact was electric, sending a shiver down your spine.

his skin felt like burning even through the layers of clothes. “there’s this-“ he stopped for a second, frustration started to build up in him.

“this thing, that i don’t know where to put.” you froze, his hands moving up your sides, he stopped at under your breasts. “every time we’re in the same room, i can’t help but to fantasize about you.”

“tell me,” he whispered, his hands went back down, this time on your stomach, his movements stopped at the top of your jeans.

“tell me you feel it too,” he pressed his body closer again, his crotch poked at your ass, his face in the crook of your neck. his eyes focused on you through the mirror. “please,” he begged and you felt your heart pounding in your chest.

yes! you’d felt it too, — every time he sat down to get his makeup done by you, whenever he opened his eyes to look up at you, every brush of your fingers against his skin, every lingering glances shared across the room.

but for fuck’s sake, you’re his makeup artist! nothing more. you thought maybe he’s just being friendly, protective. had no idea his pretty mind was filled with dirty thoughts about you, but the good way.

he was curious how you looked when you were receiving pleasure, especially from him. he dreamt about you beneath him, wishing he could take you right then and there, in the middle of the room with everyone else around.

he wouldn’t have minded, wanted to show everyone it’s him who you’re fucking, it’s him who makes you moan, who makes you scream and cry out his name, not nobody else.

with a shaky breath you finally looked up, your eyes met his in the mirror. “i do,” your hand hovered on his, resting on your stomach. his lips curved into a small, knowing smile. with a swift move he turned you around, body still closer to each other than ever.

his arms slid from your waist, up your arm until he reached the side of your neck. his touch was soft, careful, but the heat from his skin made your body ache with anticipation.

he leaned in, nose touching yours. you were going insane, dizzy from just the thought of what’s about to happen between the two of you. your hands found their way to his hair, tugging lightly.

you don’t know who moved first, — but you both attacked each other’s lips hungrily, your teeth crashed together. a moan left his mouth at the feeling of your lips on his, the vibration made you press your thighs together.

all the pent-up desire, all the unspoken words between you, came rushing to the surface. his hand tightened on your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, desperate.

he pulled away, a string of saliva between your lips. both of your breathing heavy, chests moving fast.

“you have no idea how many times i’ve imagined this,” he whispered with a smile. one of his hand slid from your neck down to your waist, gripping you firmly as he backed up and sat down on the chair behind him, guiding you down onto his lap.

your forehead was resting against his, “we shouldn’t..” you whispered, his hand moved up to caress your skin and your body betrayed you, leaning into his touch.

his thumb brushed against your lip, “maybe,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours. “but it feels too good.”

he captured your lips again, every move of his mouth sent waves of electricity through you. his hands roamed your body, — your sides, your hips, your back and then finally, his hands slid down to your ass, gripping your cheeks with his huge hands.

you sighed in the kiss, he pulled you even more closer, your heat brushed against his crotch. you melted into him, you’ve completely lost control over your body.

he pulled away and a hiss left his mouth when you moved your hips as you slowly grinded on him.

his eyes locked with yours, his bottom lip between his teeth while yours was slightly open. his hands gripped your hips, he helped you move, a little bit faster.

“shit,” he breathed out, his head thrown back in pleasure. your eyes dropped to his neck, veins popped, sweat dripping. you leaned down to plant soft kisses on his skin, a low groan left his lips as he felt yours, nibbling and sucking on his skin.

your hips slowed down, your body grew tired. he lifted his head back only to be met with the scene of you pulling your shirt off over your head.

his eyes fell to your breasts, which were still hidden from his eyes with your black bra. he buried his face in your chest, kissing on the top of your breasts while his hand carefully unclasped your bra.

it slid down your shoulders, all the way to where your body met his. he threw the unneeded clothing away, his palms massaging your breasts.

“so pretty,” he whispered and you looked down. “i think they’re small,” he chuckled at your confession.

he shook his head with a smile, “no, they’re just perfect.” he gave you no time to respond as his lips captured your perky left nipple. he gently slapped the other, massaging it after.

your breath hitched, he sucked and bit on your nipple, pulling away with a smack of his lips. he gave the same attention to your other one, your hips once again grinded against his already hard bulge in his pants.

he pulled away from your chest, his eyes looking up at you with hunger. his fingers gripped your jeans, “let’s take this off, yeah?”

you got up from his lap, he watched you strip the remaining clothes that hid the rest of your body. he took off his clothes himself too, his hand reached out for you to grab.

he pulled you towards him again, helping you sit down on his lap once more.

“are you sure?” he asked as you sat there, skin to skin. you eagerly nodded, you wanted this more than anything, just like him.

“yes,” you moved, your core brushed against his cock. “please,” you purred, he bit back a moan at the feeling of your bare pussy.

he decided to not waste any time with fingering you first, he knew you needed to get stretched and it’s gonna burn like hell. he put his stupid desire in the first place, but he realized that too late.

with a hand holding his dick and the other guiding your waist, you slowly sank down on him. your body stiffened, you let your head fall down to his chest, your forehead resting against him.

he knitted his eyebrows together, your walls clenching around him made it so hard for him to fully fill you up.

he caressed your back, “you need to relax,” he whispered and planted a kiss on top of your head. his hand sneaked to your core, his finger rubbed your clit in a circular motion.

he helped you relax your muscles, immediately slipping inside of you easily. a quiet moan left your mouth, you stayed like that for a while. he wanted you to be okay, he cares about you.

“all good?” he asked, your face still in his chest. you nodded, he moved beneath you, he wanted to fuck you like crazy but he put you first, though it was getting hard for him to control his body.

you suddenly rolled your hips, leaving him with an open mouth. “fuck, ___,” he husked, his grip on your waist was firm.

you looked up at him, you rode his dick with all your energy. the room was filled with your low moans and your skin meeting, both of your bodies sweaty and hot.

you got tired, your pace turned slower and your breathing got heavy. unlike him, he’s a singer, so his stamina is far more better than yours.

he slightly lifted you up at your waist, he took over the control now. he pounded into you from beneath, your body arched and you turned into a moaning mess.

you were never that loud in bed, your moans has always been quiet and soft. jungkook got to see a side of you that he never wanted to forget.

he never wants to forget how your brows knitted together, how your mouth fell agape and eyes shut from the pleasure that he was giving you.

he felt you clench around him, his head was thrown back again. he let out a low grunt as he fastened his pace, hitting every right spot. your body tensed, your walls tight around him which made him hiss.

he felt you release around his cock as he fucked you through it, “almost there,” he heavily breathed out, trying to reach his own orgasm too.

he pulled out and pumped himself as he released his cum on your stomach, his eyes were tightly shut, letting every drop of him on your skin.

[chososlilprincess]

last part of virgin!Choso<3 (im gonna write more for him tho, just in other scenarios!!) other parts here: part 1 part 2 part 4

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

Virgin Choso who stands on his small balcony, looking over the city, a grey cloud creeping out between his lips.

Choso had taken up smoking. He’d asked Leiri about it when he’d seen her doing it, and she’d told him it helped her to relax. he’d bought a pack right after that. The first couple of times he’d coughed the smoke out. But now he does it smoothly, inhaling and exhaling the smoke with no problem. It makes him feel at ease even just for a moment, and lord knows he needs it right now. Humans are fucking weird he thinks, they’d jepordize their health for a little break from their troubles. Guess that doesnt sound so ridiculous now that he thinks about it. Either way hes a human now too, or a half one atleast.

he squeezes the cigarette into an ashtray and looks at the time when he hears the door bell ringing. Its late and you’re here.

he hears you running up the stairs, and when you get to the top you run to him, giving him a soft hug. His heart keens.

“hi Choso!” you smile and let go of him, he immediately misses the feel of you, “hey,” he mumbles.

“why do you smell like cigerattes?” you huff and your nose crickles. cute.

he raises his shoulders.

“i cant believe it…who taught u to do that huh?” you make a disappointed face and fold your arms, tapping your foot on the floor. And he knows youre just joking, you and Yuji have been using enough sarcasm around him for him to have a pretty good understanding of it.

“Leiri,” he shrugs.

“of course…that hag,” you grin. And you look so fucking adorable, in your little outfit, and the way you look when you smile makes him weak. He has your bag ready on the couch, he had washed your panties before putting everything back into it. But he can’t think about that now, or he’ll turn bright red.

he sighs “i made dinner,” he says, “if you’re hungry,” you stop infront of him and you almost look like youre gonna cry from happiness. “im starving,” you say quickly, “what did you make?”

He’d made rice bowls for you. your favourite. And you eat like a girl who’d gotten her first meal in months. Happily humming while eating your food.

Rather than focusing on eating his own bowl, he thinks about eating every meal of the day with you, sitting across from him.

when you’re done you put your plate in the sink and you yawn, you look adorable when you yawn, you look adorable when you do anything.

you turn around, “Choso?”

his heart skips a beat. he nods.

“it’s really late and um…dark outside and i don’t really want to walk home alone,” you look away, are you….blushing?

“is it okay if i stay here for the night?”

And hes heard the stories. About what happens to pretty girls when they’re alone at night and they don’t see the stranger walking behind them. And his fist clenches at the thought of someone being mean to you. He’s stronger than any human. he’d crush their fucking skull.

“you can stay,” he says quickly, a little too eagerly he realises. And you smile, “give me your plate,” you say, looking greatful that he let you stay, unknowing of the fact that he’d do just about anything if it meant your safety, or your happiness.

You start washing the dishes in his tiny kitchen, and when Choso tries insisting that he wants to help, you splash a bit of water on him. And you laugh so sweetly, when he jumps a little, trying not to get hit.

When youre done washing up, You both stand in silence for a while. For some reason its not as akward as it sounds.

“i will sleep on the couch,” he says,

“no Choso…id feel bad, you sleep in your bed,” you mumble.

You both argue like that for a while, and youre not letting up. stubborn little human.

you both get quiet for a moment.

“how big is your bed?”

“Queen size,”

“so why dont we just…sleep in it together?”

youre blushing slightly again. it must be his imagination.

And then he thinks about it. Friends sleep in the same bed sometimes right? you dont mean anything by it, he thinks, its just you being polite.

“i guess…we could do that yes,” he agrees.

you smile and nod, “okay,”

Choso excuses himself to go to the bathroom then, telling you to go ahead and get ready for bed.

He looks at himself in the mirror. He takes out his buns, his hair falling down to his shoulders. His eyes are dark and sunken. He looks dead he thinks. He looks down, “behave,” he says quietly, mostly to his heart, but also his dick.

he buries his head in his hands And He realizes he cant, he realizes the second he’s gonna look at you in his bed, he won’t be able to stop himself. to stop himself from confessing everything he feels, everything he’s done. that he thinks about you all the time, that you drive him insane, that he stole your pretty panties and came in his hand from the smell of your wet cunt.

When he rounds the corner of his bedroom, you’re sitting patiently on the edge of his bed, waiting for him.

“i am going to sleep on the couch, i don’t think this is a good idea,” he says it quickly, before he changes his mind, before its too late to go back.

you open your mouth to speak, hesitating a little.

“is it because of what yuji told me?”

his brain goes quiet. “what?”

“that you…that you like me?”

fuck. its over. he sighs angrily. that little fucki-

you stand and walk to him.

and when you put your hand on his chest, for a moment he forgets why hes mad, he forgets who he is and what year hes in. all he sees is you. And how close you are all of a sudden. and how youre leaning in, standing on your tippy toes, pressing your soft lips to his, in a short gentle kiss. His world stops for a moment.

And when he regains his senses, his instincts take over and he kisses you back ferociously, it’s sloppy and uncoordinated, but neither of you seem to care.

You walk backwards onto his bed, and you push him down so he’s sitting on the edge. He looks at you like a puppy dog, and his cheeks are flushed red.

When you sit down in his lap his dick twitches in his pants.

“i- i didnt think you…,” he stutters. he doesn’t really believe what’s happening.

“well i do,” you say, while cupping his face in your hands. “a lot,”

“can i…” he needs it he needs it he needs it, “can i eat your pussy?” he mumbles it quietly.

your eyes widen. fuck, he shouldn’t have said that, it was way too fast, you were just kissing.

“oh…uh okay,”

fuck. yes.

he lifts you up from his lap, and you skriek a little from surprise. He puts you down in a chair in the corner of his bedroom.

he gets on his knees infront of you and speaks quietly,

“i…im sorry i,” he sniffles a little, he’s so overwhelmed. And you’re letting him taste you.

you lean down and give him a kiss, biting your lip slightly.

“its okay…we can talk later, if you need it i’ll give it to you okay?”

And fuck he almost cries, and he buries his face in your lap. You shush him a little, caressing his hair. Hes hugging your legs.

He lifts his head, and you start unbuttoning your pants. Slowly sliding them down your hips as they fall to the floor. You spread your legs and he whimpers. Your panties are pink this time, and theres a big wet spot on them. And he doesn’t spare a second, he dives his head into your cunt, rubbing his face in it and licking at the wet spot desperately. you moan his name softly, and he cant help but grind his hard cock against the leg of the chair. Hes pathetic but he doesnt care, he wants you to feel good, he wants to make you cum on his face. He groans into your weeping pussy as he thinks about you cumming for him.

He pulls away a little, silently begging you to remove your panties. He wants to see your pussy so bad. His pussy.

You slide down your panties to reveal your soaked cunt. Choso almost growls. He looks up at you, asking for permission to keep going. you nod, your eyes half lidded. Spoiled little princess, he thinks, and thats exactly how hes going to treat you from now on.

he leans in again, kissing your pussy and it makes a wet sound. He licks his lips and groans deeply at your taste. He starts lapping at your cunt like a dehydrated puppy. He’s making out with your pussy now, swiping his tongue all over. You can tell he’s inexperienced, but it doesn’t matter, he’s doing such a good job.

you feel so good, his tongue is too much, its all too much. You love him so much. And you cum unexpectedly, crying out his name, begging him to keep going and he whines. You thrash around and Choso keeps you steady, his strong hands grasping your hips.

After youre done he keeps licking up your cum, making sure youre cleaned.

“Choso…stop, too much,” you say softly.

He pulls away.

His face is covered in your juices, dripping all the way down his neck. And he looks so happy. He stands up, like its on instinct. He needs to hold you.

He grabs you into his arms and plop down onto the bed, with you on his chest. He squeezes you into him, kissing your hair while you slide your panties on again.

“mine,” he says softly. youre his now.

You look up at him, searching his eyes, “Choso i wanna um…you know,” you gesture to his crotch. you want to make him feel good too.

but he looks away shyly. its embarrassing and pathetic, “i um..,” he sits up with you in his lap.

He doesnt feel hard under you anymore. And then it clicks.

“oh my god did you…”

he blushes furiously and nods, “its embarrassing,” he had cum in his pants the second he put his face in your bare pussy.

“no! no…it’s really…hot,” you reason and he looks less embarrassed. He looks into your eyes then, looks at your pretty little face and he already knows he wants you to be his forever.

“do you want to be my girlfriend?” he asks nervously.

you giggle and nod eagerly, jumping on him, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling into his neck.

hes the luckiest man in the world he thinks. And you both fall asleep, you laying on his chest.

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

guys they didn’t actually fuck and i’m SORRY

now….part 4?? hey!!! HEY OKAY IM SORRY!! comment if yall want more ill do a lil short one where buddy ACTUALLY looses his virginity.

taglist:

@iqzo @multy-fandom-lover

[reidmania]

in between | spencer reid

good riddance x spencer reid one shot masterlist.

part one, part two, part three

summary; after being together for two months, you and spencer had yet to go further than making out, until now.

warnings; 18+ mdni, soft dom spencer, no actual sex. fingering, slightly inexperienced reader, a tiny bit more experienced spencer, mentions of bad sexual relations in the past, references longer hair on reader

an; i suck at writing smut so i refuse to be held responsible for this cause ik i asked but u guys really gave me no choice ‘100% for yes part 3 should have smut’ MY ASS. y’all hate me and want me to die.

‘She toes the line between 'em, he says he's new at this, there's holy ground beneath them, and sparks fly when they kiss. He hates it when she's crying, he hates when she's away, even at their worst, they know they'll still be okay.’

<>

In the two months that you and Spencer had been together you had seen him four times. Which was a disgustingly low amount, you both hated it — That wasn’t a question, but with him working so much and you living in a different state, you both did your best.

You saw him on weekends when you could, when he wasn’t away on a case. Sometimes he would take a day trip to see you, just to get coffee or go to the library together. He never didn’t make an effort, anytime you two could see each other, you did.

Like now, Spencer knew it was almost silly to celebrate two months together in an extravagant way, but it gave him the perfect excuse to see you — Not that he needed one, but he wasn’t gonna waste it either way.

He had made it very clear to Hotch that if a case came up, or if anyone from the team called him — He wouldn’t be answering, after the two of you had been interrupted one time you came to stay at his place, he got a call about a case, by the time he got home you had already left due to the time of your flight.

He refused to have that happen again, not this time.

You had got to the airport maybe an hour ago, he was there to meet you just like every other time. Now, you were sitting on his sofa, legs crossed as you rested your head on his shoulder, some documentary playing on the tv. A lot of the time you spent together was like this — just enjoying one another’s presence while you had it.

Spencer arm was over your shoulder, his fingertips drawing soft shapes on your arms which left goosebumps in their trail, their movements never faltered.

“Hey” He said gently, as if not wanting to break the comfortable silence that surrounded the two of you. You turned your head, still rested on his shoulder but now looking up at him.

“Hello” You said back, the same soft tone, the corner of your lips tugged upwards into a smile. Your eyes held his gaze, your stomach full of something so familiar. Something you felt every time he was around you— Anytime you heard his voice. Comfort, warmth, safety. All of the same sort.

He smiled back, then as if he couldn’t help it his head lent down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, only causing your smile to widen. He pulled away to reposition slightly so he could look at your face better. “I wanna take you out” He said gently.

You hummed, eyebrow raising a little in curiosity. It wasn’t that you and Spencer didn’t go on dates, you did. Bookstore, library, cafe, flower shop, bakery’s. All the soft romantic things you both adored to do together, although by the way he spoke you assumed he had something different in mind.

“Do you?” You teased lightly.

He nodded, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips before pulling back, your cheeks flushed at the motion. He did that a lot, the small soft kisses as if it was just habit. You adored those.

“I do. Tonight, is that okay with you?”

He asked, and you smiled.

A soft nod came, before you were speaking. “I didn’t- I don’t have anything nice to wear” You mumbled gently. You packed everything comfortable, you had nice things, but not like extremely nice, nothing fancy.

He shook his head gently, free arm that wasn’t wrapped around your shoulder coming up to brush gentle hairs away from your forehead. “Thats okay, We can get you something, or we can go in pyjamas, make a statement” He mumbled out, a playful smile on his lips as his forehead bumped yours gently.

You let out a soft laugh, nodding in agreement. The same playful smile on your lips mirroring his. Your forehead came to nudge his back. “Mm, don’t hate me” You hummed, smiling gently. His head tilted in curiosity of what you were going to say.

“I didn’t pack pyjamas.” You admitted, the last few times you had been here you ended up wearing one of Spencer’s shirts to bed anyways, so you ultimately decided this time there was no point even bringing your own.

He smiled, knowingly, understanding why you didn’t, but then he huffed out playfully, tsking gently as he shook his head. “You had one job, one. job.” He mumbled, faux disappointment lacing his tone only making your smile widen.

“Whoops?” You suggested, shrugging your shoulders.

He let out a snort at your half assed fake guilt, his hands came down to grip your waist, his fingers digging into the sides of your skin making you squeal gently and squirm under his touch. Your hands came down to grip his wrists, trying to tug them away from your side.

After a moment, he gave in, letting you push his hands away, to which you instead interlaced your fingers, holding them up in front of you. “I hate when you do that” You huffed out. You did partly, but not enough to actually be upset about it.

He raised his eyebrow, squeezing your hand gently. “Do you now?” He asked. You rolled your eyes, nodding. He knew it, you knew he did because you told him every-time he did it. For some reason he just enjoyed making you squirm, watching you get frustrated for a total of three seconds before it all turned playful again.

“You know I do” You muttered. You turned slightly so you were facing him, your gaze held his and any doubt you could possibly have washed away just by the look of love and admiration in his eyes.

“Okay, I wont do it again” He said softly, his hands pulled away from yours to instead gently cradle your jaw in his hands, leaning down to place another gentle kiss on your lips.

You knew he would do it again, and you were okay with that.

Spencer realised he had made a mistake. A big mistake.

Buying you a dress, wasn’t the mistake but thinking his thoughts would stay innocent when seeing you in it was. He had let you pick out whatever dress you wanted, insisting on paying for it, he let it remain a surprise. Keeping his gaze away as you used his card to pay for it until it was hidden away in a bag.

Now, seeing you standing in his bathroom, the dress on, your hair falling perfectly to frame your face and your smile. He was having a hard time focusing. He leant against the door frame as he watched you fix your hair.

He wondered if it was possible for you to be any more perfect.

Then you made eye contact with him in the mirror and raised your hand to wave gently, and he decided it was.

The entire night was perfect, any time with you was, but tonight it was exactly what he wanted it to be. The place the two of you went to was fancy but not extreme, the two of you ate and joked throughout the entire time and Spencer knew he was in love with you.

He had always known that, but the words begged to leave his lips more then ever when you were sitting in the passenger seat in his car, using a plastic water bottle as a microphone as you sung out the song playing on the radio as he drove the two of you back to his place.

At a red light, he turned to look at you. You were busy peeling off the wrapper around the water bottle to notice, a small thing that made his heart warm. His gaze dropped down to your thigh, one his hands moving to rest on top of it, then his eyes were stuck on the way it had ridden up your thigh as you were sitting and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

His hand rested against your thigh innocently, although his thumb moved to tuck under the hem of your dress slightly, rubbing the skin there soothingly. Your eyes moved from the bottle to his hand, then to his face.

He had turned back to the road now, when the light had gone green, he could see you looking at him in his peripheral. He was trying to remain calm but he felt as if the car temperature increase massively in seconds.

“You’re pretty” You mumbled out and he knew he was done.

His gaze flicked from the road to your face. A smile on his lips as his heart hammered in his chest. He wondered if maybe he should pull over because he was struggling to pull his eyes away from your face.

“You’re pretty.” He said back, his gaze flicking back to the road as he turned down the street his house was on, thankful in a few seconds he would no longer have to worry about crashing the car because he was too focused on you.

You hummed, scrunching up your nose slightly at his compliment. He was pulling into his driveway and you were turning your body to face him in the passenger seat. “Im serious. You are really pretty.”

He smiled as he put the car in park, he undid his seatbelt before mirroring your actions turning to face you. “Im serious too. You are also really pretty.” He said in the same tone as you, before he was leaning in to press his lips against yours. His hand left your thigh to instead rest against your jaw, fingertips curling into your hair.

You hummed into the kiss, your hands coming to either side of his neck. Your heart burst at the feeling of his lips warm and gentle against yours the feeling of his cool hands pressing against your warm cheeks.

Your hand left his neck in order to undo your seatbelt, and reposition slightly so you could lean in closer while still not breaking the kiss. One of his hands trailed from your jaw to the back of your head, cradling it as his fingers tangled in your hair, encouraging you closer to him.

After a moment, his lips pulled away from yours but he stayed close, hands remaining in place and his forehead rested against yours as he spoke almost breathlessly, in a way that made your heart beat quicken. “We- We should go inside.” He said.

You nodded, “We should.” You said in the same breathless tone. He stayed in place for a moment just looking into your eyes before he nodded again, pulling back in order to open the car door.

Then he was out, walking around to open the door for you. You smiled as you took his hand, he closed the door once you were out and his hands then moved to your waist, staying close behind you as the two of you walked to the door.

He huffed out when he had to pull his hand away in order to pull his keys out of his pocket, his chest pressed against your back as he leant in to unlock the door after fumbling to find the right key for a moment. His hand moved to press against your stomach as he did so, holding you close against him.

When you were inside he loosened his grip slightly, walking to the kitchen he freed his pockets of his wallet and phone, and keys, he left them all on the kitchen counter before his eyes looked back at you.

You were wandering towards his bedroom, he smiled at the sight before he was following you. He walked fast in order to catch up, hands gripping your hips making you jump in shock, you turned your head to look at him.

“That was mean- Don’t do that” You huffed out, he grinned, his hand moving from your hip to the side of your cheek in order to turn your face more towards him, then he was kissing you again.

You allowed it for a moment, before your neck began to cramp at the uncomfortable positioning. You turned so you were facing him, chest pressed against his as your hands came to rest on either side of his jawline.

His hand pressed against the small of your back, holding you against him while his other hand, re-tangled in your hair. Then his feet were stumbling toward and yours back as he led you both blindly to his bedroom. His hand left your back to push the door open.

His tongue pressed against your bottom lip searching for entrance, your lips parted as his hands moved to press against the back of your thigh, your arms moved to wrap around your neck.

His lips left for a moment, but stayed close so you could feel them moving as he spoke quietly and breathlessly, “You’re so beautiful” He said as his fingers dug into the skin of your thighs, pulling you upwards so he was holding you, your legs wrapping around his torso.

You hummed and then leant back in to press your lips against his again, this time there was no build up, it was instantly more messy than it had been any other time, desperate, yet soft.

He walked to the bed, not breaking the kiss as his tongue mapped out your mouth, as if trying to memorise it. He got on his knees on the soft foam of the mattress, laying you down on your back, lips never leaving yours as his hands came to rest on either side of your head, cradling you in.

Normally, this is where the two of you would stop. Any other time he would roll off and make a comment or offer to put on a movie, read to you, make you coffee or something. Yet his lips stayed against yours as he remained on his knees in between your thighs that had remained parted once he laid you down.

His hands trailed down to your shoulder, his fingertips brushing against the strap of your dress softly so it draped down the curve of your shoulder. He pulled away, leaning back to look at your face.

His eyes trailed down every feature, the way your lips had gone slightly puffy and red from the kiss, the way your cheeks were flush, hair a mess, eyes lidded, it made his heartbeat increase.

“Is this okay?” He asked, voice quiet and husky in a way that made your stomach swell with nerves. His fingertips brushed over the empty space of your collarbone and shoulder where the strap had fallen from.

You nodded, looking up at him. He smiled gently and leant down to press a trail of gentle kiss down your jaw, then he moved down your neck, his hand moving to the other strap of your dress, pushing it down your shoulder.

“Spencer” You mumbled out, looking down at him as his kisses trailed down to your collarbone, hand coming to rest on either side of your waist. He looked up at you through his lashes and you swore your heart stopped.

He looked at you, his lips pressed against your skin, you felt his breath as he mumbled out a gentle ‘Mhm?’ In response.

You were at a loss for words honestly, eyebrows furrowed in deep focus, this was new, with Spencer it was new. You hadn’t had sex, you hadn’t gone past making out, you hadn’t even really talked about it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, you did. You were just nervous.

He noticed your silence and pulled away to sit up, looking down at you. You instantly missed the feeling of his lips on your skin and the close proximity of his body against yours. His fingers ran gently down the side of your waist as his eyes stayed trained on your face, searching for what had you so choked up.

“We can stop.” He said gently, he wanted you to be comfortable and the last thing he would ever want you to do is feel pushed or pressured into doing something you didn’t want to do. You shook your head.

You didn’t want to stop, actually you really wanted to keep going.

“I still have my shoes on” You stated quietly. instead. He paused for a moment, before he let out a gentle laugh, nodding his head as he shuffled away in order to take off your shoes for you.

“You still have a lot on” He mumbled out under his breath but you caught it and it made your cheeks warm. You perched yourself up onto your elbow to watch him as he pulled your shoes off your feet, dropping them at the end of the bed before kicking off his own.

Then he was pulling his suit jacket off, and undoing the first few buttons of the white dress shirt he had been wearing before he was leaning back up to press another gentle kiss on your lips.

“You’re quiet” He said, taking note of it. You shrugged your shoulders. You were nervous, you had a lot going through your head and that mixed with his hands on your body and the sight of him made you rather nervous and a little light headed.

You looked up at him, “Is that bad?” You asked. It wasn’t that you hadn’t had sex before, you had, just not.. Good sex. It was with a guy you dated for a short while who had very little care for anything other than his own pleasure, and before that when you were freshly 18 and graduating.

Neither were very good.

He hummed, leaning up to brush hair away from your face. “You tell me, sweet girl. You okay?” He asked. He wanted you comfortable, feeling good, if you weren’t then there was no point in doing it.

You nodded again, “Im okay- Not a bad thing.” You said, leaning up to press your lips against his. He smiled into the kiss before pulling away. He moved down to rest on his heels between your thighs.

You watched him, “Can we take this off?” He asked as his finger tips hooked under the hem of your dress. You nodded again, he smiled and lowered himself a little to press a soft kiss against your stomach over the fabric of the dress before his hands bunched the ends of it to pull it up over your stomach, then you were tugging your arms out of the straps and sitting up as Spencer pulled it off over your head.

His eyes trailed over your body and you swore the house had gotten too warm. Your head was spinning as you watched his face, his eyes as they trailed over every aspect of you.

“You’re- My gosh. You’re beautiful, you are so beautiful” He mumbled, it seemed like it was more to himself than it was to you but it made you smile and feel a little less revealed.

“My socks are still on.” You said, uncomfortably away of everything touching you at the moment, the way the bedsheets felt under your back, the way your undergarments sat almost uncomfortably uncovered, the only thing seemly comfortable was Spencers hands.

He was the one to nod this time, he leant down to rest on his stomach in between your thighs, pressing gentle kiss to the plush skin of your thighs as his hands rested over them, rubbing softly over the skin. “I know” He mumbled out against the skin of your thigh.

You huffed, leaning back up on your elbows in order to look at him. “Isn’t it like a thing? That people don’t have socks on during sex” You mumbled the thing you had heard around, you couldn’t pin point where you had heard it from but you knew it was talked about.

He hummed, trailing soft kisses against your thigh, hands pushing them gently more apart. “Would you like me to take them off” He asked, voice muffled against your skin, you huffed.

“I don’t know. Why haven’t you?” You asked, wondering if there was a specific reason for him removing every other aspect of your clothing, besides your underwear, and just leaving your socks on.

He hooked his finger under the hemming of your underwear, his eyes flickering away as he looked up at you, eyes silently asking for consent to take them off. You nodded gently.

He placed another kiss to your thigh before he was pulling your underwear down. “Studies have shown that wearing socks during sex can help with better orgasms. Cause of your blood circulation” He mumbled out softly as he tapped your knee, you lifted your legs up so he could pull your underwear the rest of the way off before tossing them somewhere in the room, your legs returning spread around him.

“Really?” You asked gently, voice hitching as his hand came to rest against your inner thigh, pushing it open a little more to allow him better access. He hummed and nodded.

His fingers brushed gently over where you needed him the most, his focus completely on you and making you feel good as his fingers rubbed gently over the wet folds. He relished in the way you breath hitched.

“When your feet are cold, your body signals a fight or flight response, it sends the blood to your feet rather than anywhere else. When your body is warm-” His thumb moved to rub soft circles over your clit, his eyes flicking upwards to search for your search. A soft smile on his face when he watched your lips part and your eyes flutter shut.

“When your body is warm, you are instantly more relaxed and more comfortable, your feet are always gonna get cold first, so if they are warm, chances are the rest of your body will be warm as well. Then you get more blood flow where you need it, right here” He mumbled out, one finger presses gently and slowly into you making your eyes squeeze shut and your legs threaten to close.

He let out a soft laugh, pushing your thighs to remain open. “That feel good?” He asked, almost teasing you. You opened your eyes to glare at him, making him only laugh again.

“You don’t have your socks on.” You pointed out, breath shaky as you spoke, his finger moving slowly eyes focused on your face and every little reaction.

He nodded, “I don’t think I’m gonna have any issue.” He smiled. You let out a breathy laugh and smiled back before he pressed a second finger into you.

“Y-You think I will?” You asked, voice wavering as you tried to continue the conversation but honestly your mind was fading in and out of focus as you felt yourself clench around Spencer’s fingers.

He shook his head, leaning down to press a kiss against your thigh. “No, I am pretty confident” He mumbled out, a teasing smile on his lips as his fingers curled, a soft sound leaving your lips at the feeling. He only grinned wider. “But I don’t wanna take any chances. If it helps, then it helps, if it doesn’t then it doesn’t. Just want you to feel as good as possible.” He said gently, his fingers pumping up into you.

You hummed, moving off your elbow to rest on your back. Your eyes fluttered closed as a soft moan passed through your lips when you felt his fingers curl upwards against your g spot. He realised pretty quickly and continued his movements hitting that spot.

“Are you okay?” He checked in again, as his thumb came up to nudge your clit again, his fingers still curling against you. You hummed out in response as your back lifted slightly off the bed. He let out a soft laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to your stomach.

“I was thinking about getting a cat” You huffed out. You knew it was probably the worst time to bring it up but the way your body was tensing as the knot in your stomach tightened it made you feel like you needed to relax your mind a little, and there was no better way to do that then to talk as if Spencer’s weren’t curling inside you.

He snorted as he looked up at you. “Have you now?” He understood the need to deflect. He was smart enough to know when things got intense in your body, calming your mind was helpful.

You let out a soft ‘mhm’ Followed by a small sound. “I wanna name it teddy.” You huffed out, chest rising and falling heavily as the tension in your stomach built, you could feel it in your thighs.

He smiled, “I cannot believe you are talking to me about cats when I am fingering you.” He mumbled out, his tone teasing and playful as the speed of his fingers increased.

You cringed at his words, “Thats so graphic Spence. Don’t say it like that” You huffed, squirming slightly as the pressure rose between your legs, you clenched subconsciously around Spencer’s fingers. His thumb flicked your clit gently, a playful grin on his lips as he watched you gasp.

“Sorry. How else would you like me to describe whats happening here?” He mumbled gently as he leant down to kiss your inner thigh, the pace of his fingers increasing the tighter you clenched around him, he could tell you were getting closer and he was making it his prime goal to get you there while keeping your pretty mind relaxed, even if that meant talking about cats.

You hummed, a gentle moan rolling off your lips. “Just- Don’t” You huffed, as your back arched in order to press yourself further against him. His fingers curled as your thighs got tense and begged to close, he had to hold them open.

He smiled. His focus now on making you finish. His fingers curled over your g spot repeatedly while his thumb moved against your clit, in circular motions.

“Spence.” You mumbled his name breathlessly, almost like a warning and his understood instantly, he continued his movements before he heard you moan, and then you clenched around him and gushed over his fingers.

He continued his movements a little slowly throughout your orgasm, enough to keep you going without overwhelming or overstimulating you. He pressed an abundance of gentle kisses against your thigh as you tried to catch your breath.

After a moment, his fingers pulled out of you. He kissed up your stomach. “Are you okay?” He asked again. Eyes trailing over your face, cheeks red and eyes closed, soft harsh breaths left your parted lips. You looked beautiful and Spencer wanted to tell you that a million times and more.

“Yes.” You exhaled, peeling your eyes open to look at him, “Thank you.” You mumbled, leaning up. He smiled and met you half way in order to press a gentle kiss against your lips before pulling back.

“Im gonna go get a rag okay, clean you up.” He mumbled out gently into your ear. You nodded half processing his words, your mind a bit of a mess as your focus was purely set on calming yourself down.

When you felt him leave the bed, you looked at him. “Wait.” You mumbled out, lifting yourself to sit up a little. He turned to face you, eyes trailing over your face to search for any indication that maybe something was wrong.

“Whats up sweetheart?”

You huffed out, looking up at him. There was a sort of blissed out expression on your face. “I love you” You said. You didn’t give yourself a chance to overthink it. You loved him, whether he loved you back yet or not. You loved him and you wanted him to know.

His features softened, a soft smile on his lips as your words settled in. His heart hammered against his ribcage. Acutely aware of everything; yet only focused on you.

“I love you.” He replied in the same sort of tone, certain, no question about it.

You smiled, “Okay- You can go now” You mumbled, laying back in bed now allowing him to go get a cloth to clean you up, you knew you’d have to get up to pee in a minute, but you figured that could wait.

He snorted, “Thanks for your permission” He smiled, You nodded, closing your eyes as a gentle exhale left your mouth.

He loved you. You loved him, you never wanted that to change and you didn’t believe it ever could.

[sturniqlo]

OUT THE WINDOW- SHY!MATT x SHY!READEE

summary: shy!matt and darlings first ever argument

cw: ANGST; argument, crying, resolved angst, FLUFF; comforting, kissing, cuddling

an: sorry this took for fucking ever, my mind just went blank when writing this, but i really loved the idea so i couldn't pass it up!

masterlist | shy!matt x shy!reader | join my taglist

------------------------------------------------

matt wasn't one to ignore darling- or anyone in general, which was weird when he had ignored several of her texts. he was supposed to pick her up thirty minutes ago. maybe he was on his way and his phone had died? she thought. she waited for another hour. matt would never do this- he would never leave her waiting.

she decided to send one last text.

darling 8:51pm

hi babe... did you forget about our date today? i've been waiting for a while🫤

matt 9:02pm

omg! i'm so sorry. i had made plans with the guys... i did forget, sorry

darling 9:03pm

oh okay, have fun then :/

matt 9:05pm

baby, don't be like that

darling 9:07pm

*read 9:07pm*

she was upset- actually she was pretty mad. how could he forget? they had this planned for weeks! she was disappointed because he forgot and left her waiting for almost two hours. they- she had booked tickets for a new museum exhibit that she wanted to visit- since the museum closed at 11pm she had gotten tickets for 9pm.

matt wasn't the biggest fan of museums, but he'd do anything for her so he just agreed to go with her. turns out he didn't go along with his words.

10:52pm

y/n was laying in bed reading her current book when she got a call from matt. she was still pretty mad about what had happened, but she picked up anyways. "hello?" she mumbled- closing her book and sitting up against her headboard. "hey, pretty. uhm- is the- is the museum still open?" he said with a slight smile on his face- she could hear his keys jingling in the background. he was most likely coming to pick her up.

she holds back a scoff. "it's about to close in a couple of minutes- i'm going alone next week, it's okay- don't worry about it." she sighs, throwing her comforter off of her. "so- i don't have to pick you up tonight?" he stops in front of his car. "no, matt." he heard the change in her voice.

"baby, are you mad at me? i said i was sorry- i forgot." he speaks, leaning against the drivers side door. "that's- that's the thing, matt. you forgot- we had this planned for weeks! and- and i even mentioned it yesterday when we were together. and you just... forgot?" her voice slightly changed. "it slipped my mind, okay?" matt tried his best to stay clam. he didn't know how to control this- they had never argued before.

yeah they had little disagreements about small things- very small things. but never like this- this felt serious. "if you didn't want to go with me you should've just said, not ignore me and make me wait for hours, knowing you weren't going to come!" matt sighs. "you should've reminded me if you really wanted me to go with you." this alone sets her off. "i should've reminded you? i shouldn't have to do that- if you really wanted to you would!"

"look- i didn't mean to, okay?" he throws his head back against the window- matt was starting to get irritated. "didn't mean to what? forget that we had plans? ditch me for your friends?" a hand ran through her hair, her eyes stung a bit and a knot formed in her throat. "i'm sorry- alright! i didn't think it would piss you off this much!" so he forgot on purpose? her grip on the phone tightened when she connected two and two together.

"not piss me off?! matt- i had bought these tickets so long ago because you said you'd go with me! i know museums aren't your thing, but you promised. do- did it not matter to you?" she whispered the last part. "baby- it's not like that... i- i didn't think. it does matter- i just- you know how i am about museums."

"but, matt. it wasn't just about the museum. it was about us spending time together. i chose the museum because it was a new fun exhibit- i thought you'd like it. we barely saw each other this week- and you're about to leave for a week." tears slowly started rolling down her cheeks. "baby.. i- i get that, but the guys called and i wasn't thinking. i thought we could go another time."

"whatever, matt. i'm going to bed." she scoffs- she had had enough of this- at this point she felt like she was repeating herself. "fine." he muttered- leaning off of his car and heading back to his dorm building. she didn't hesitate to hang up right away.

the next day

y/n woke up, got ready for the day and went downstairs to eat a quick breakfast. she had tried her hardest to forgot about last nights argument. she went about her day, she only had two classes today so it was an easy day. her headphones played her personal playlist, which was weird because she had forgotten certain songs that were in it since she hasn't played it in so long.

she walked into the coffee shop and was next in line. "hello, can i get a medium brown sugar cookie iced coffee, please. and tw- one vanilla scone. and a uhm- medium- sorry, nevermind, that will be all." her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. it was almost like muscle memory to get matt's order since you two always got iced coffee and a scone together.

heading over to their usual spot and plopped down waiting for her order. she scrolled through her emails and saw that her second and last class had been cancelled. darling thought she'd go check out the bookstore and see any new arrivals.

she opened the door and the bell above the door chimed. "welcome!" the sweet front desk lady said. "hello." darling smiled at her.

darling scanned the bookshelves, but nothing caught her attention, however she was looking to get a new journal to scrapbook. she headed over to the stationery section and saw the many different journals.

as she paid, she felt her phone buzz in her bag. as the woman scanned her journal and a few other miscellaneous items, darling grabbed her phone and saw that matt was calling. "your total is $23.62." the cashier suddenly spoke. out of habit, she double clicked the side button and declined the call to pay.

matt was currently in his dorm room as he had just came back from his second class of the day. he had a two hour break until his next class. in all honesty, he wasn't able to focus on his classes from earlier. matt was busy overthinking about his argument with darling last night. she probably wants to break up with him and never speak to him again, he thought.

he tried to busy himself by cleaning up his side of the dorm room. throwing away a bit of trash here and there. using the mini vacuum, the one darling bought for him and his roommate, to clean up the carpeted floor. and he did his laundry. as he folded his clothes, one of darlings' shirts had gotten into his load.

he gently folded it and put it in her designated drawer she had in his dorm, which was overflowing. he hoped that it stayed that way. as matt finished folding up his laundry, he decided to call her. opening his recent call log, she was the most recent one.

pretty🤍 yesterday 10:52pm

"please pick up." he muttered as he sat on his bed. it went past the first three rings, no answer yet. the call was soon declined. "fuck." he sighed, tossing his phone to the side resulting in it falling in the crack between his bed and his wall. "great."

matt threw himself back on his bed and groaned in frustration. why'd he have to be such an asshole and ditch her for her friends. most importantly- why'd he leave her waiting? the thought of her being ready and excited to go on the date only for him to not show up made him feel even worse than he already did.

matt really wanted to go over and apologize, he looked at the time and saw that around this time she was already home. he wasn't one to stalk her location as often, but he just decided to check. what if he went to her house and she wasn't even home? he pulled up her location and saw that she was at her friends house. he had remembered because he had picked her up from them once. maybe later. he thought.

the night came around and she was still with her friend. not that he was tracking her or anything, but she just happened to post a story on instagram and he just happened to get the notification.

it wasn't until an hour later when he checked her location and she were finally home. matt sat up and jumped off of his bed and grabbed his car keys from his desk. he didn't bother to grab a hoodie or anything, he just wanted to go to her to apologize.

y/n was laying in bed as she had just gotten home from spending most of the day with her best friend. the two of them caught up on everything. she told darling everything about this guy had been seeing and darling told her about her little disagreement with matt. she opened up to her and told her how she thought that maybe matt was getting tired of her because he never ditched her like that. "darling, i promise you that man is so obsessed with you. he is not leaving you anytime soon or ever." is what she told her.

she had her book propped up on her chest as she caught up on reading. that was until she heard little taps on her window. for a split second she thought it was raining, but when she looked over she saw matt out her window. "what?" she said confusingly, closing her book and sitting up. darling walked over to the window and opened it. "matt, what are you doing here? outside my window!" she told him. "i- i wanted to see you. can you sit with me out here? please." she thought for a second, but quickly agreed.

before she said anything, she turned around. matt had for sure thought she had just rejected him, but she soon returned with a hoodie on. "scoot over." darling said softly. for a moment they sat in silence, the occasional breeze blowing the tree branches. the tension was there, but it wasn't so tense. the silence was soon broken as matt spoke.

"m' sorry. i'm really sorry about yesterday." his hand came to her knee. "i- i shouldn't have done that. shouldn't have ditched you for my friends. shouldn't have left you waiting." his thumb moved back and forth against her sweatpants. "i'm sorry for lashing out on you-" matt interrupted her. "hey- no. don't be sorry, pretty. you had every right to be mad. i was the one who stood you up." she pouted, he was so understanding.

"are- are you sure? i feel really bad." darling grabbed his hand and intertwined their fingers together. a gust of wind blew through and a strand of her hair came out of place. matt's empty hand came up to her face and tucked it behind her ear. "forgive me, baby? let me go with you next week, let me make it up to you." he kissed the back of her hand. she nodded.

"of course i forgive you." she smiled at him, taking her hand away from his to bring it up to his face to connect their lips in a sweet kiss. "i love you." darling mumbled against his lips. "i love you." matt smiled against her lips.

the two sat outside her window for a couple of minutes before it started to drizzle. "you stayin' the night?" she picked up her head from his shoulder. "only if you want me to." he grinned at her already knowing the answer. darling giggled and carefully stood up- matt stood up right after and guarded her to prevent anything- "come on." she crawled back into her room. matt closed the window, locking it, and immediately kicked his shoes off.

like routine he picked her up by the waist and gently tossed her onto the bed crawling on top of her. matt cuddled her, giving her little neck and shoulder kisses here and there.

soon enough, they fell asleep with her head tucked in his neck and his hand running through her hair. they weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

[0omillo0]

sooo saying this with as much love and respect as i possibly can but you are really totally utterly amazing at writing and your angst is part of the top tier community 🖤

if you’re up to writing this then 😍 and if not then it’s completely okay! but i was thinking of an angsty but hopeful? comfort ending of where chan/hyunjin/han/felix (i couldn’t decide 😫) forgets y/n bday completely, despite having plans. y/n is sad yes but expects it, so she hangs with her friends & visits her fam etc. the chosen member will either see an ig post where it’s said oh happy birthday or smth or someone asks him about it, he will try to get to y/n but she’s out and about. when she finally gets back to her apartment then you know grovelling, apologising, flowers and so on.

what do you think?🖤☺️

Hyunjin x Reader 황현진 angst/comfort

He forgets your birthday

a/n: first of all, your kind words almost made me cry, made my day fr 🥹 thank you so much for appreciating my work <3 it means the world to me. i hope this is what you wanted! lmk what you think <3

Today was your birthday.

You were never one to make a big deal out of your birthday, but everything changed when Hyunjin came into your life. From the moment he became your boyfriend, he made it his mission to ensure your special day was as cherished and unforgettable as the love he had for you.

He succeded…

until today.

The day began quietly. You woke up, the morning sunlight filtering through the curtains of your shared bedroom. You stretched your arms and turned to find the other side of the bed empty—Hyunjin’s warmth long gone. Confused, you rubbed your eyes and noticed a small piece of paper resting on the pillow beside you. It read:

“Sorry baby, Chan called me. I had to run. Love you.”

You stared at the note, your heart sinking. No “Happy Birthday,” no reminder of the day that was supposed to be special. A lump formed in your throat as you folded the note and placed it on the nightstand.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t anticipated this. Hyunjin had been so busy lately, barely having time for himself, let alone anything else. But deep down, you had held onto the hope that today would be different, that he would remember.

Unable to hold back the wave of disappointment, you reached for your phone. You opened the messages between you and Hyunjin, scrolling through previous conversations where his affection and thoughtfulness had always shone. But today, there was nothing—no text, no missed call. It hit you like a punch to the gut.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you dialed your best friend. The moment she picked up, her cheery tone only made the pain worse.

“Hey, birthday girl!” she greeted. “What’s up? Are you and Hyunjin doing something special today?”

That was it. The dam broke. A sob escaped your lips, and the words tumbled out before you could stop them.

“Hyunjin forgot,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face. “He forgot my birthday.”

“What?!” your friend exclaimed, the shock evident in her voice. “Y/N, no way. Are you serious?”

You sniffled, your voice trembling. “I woke up, and he was gone. He left a note saying Chan called him, but… but nothing about my birthday. Not even a text, nothing. I feel so stupid for expecting anything.”

Another voice chimed in—it was one of your other close friends, who had been with her. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. That’s awful. Are you sure he didn’t plan something later?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice breaking again. “I don’t think so. He’s been so busy lately. I just—” You stopped, unable to form the words as another sob wracked your chest. “It hurts. It feels like… like I don’t matter enough to be remembered lately.”

“Don’t say that,” your first friend said gently, her tone laced with sympathy. “You matter so much, Y/N. I know Hyunjin loves you like crazy. Maybe he’s just overwhelmed, but I can’t believe he’d forget on purpose.”

“Even if it’s not on purpose, it still hurts,” you whispered, wiping at your cheeks. “I don’t even want to talk to him right now. I just need to turn my phone off and forget about it.”

There was a pause before your friend spoke again. “Okay. You can spend the day with us, alright? Forget about him for now. We’ll celebrate you because you deserve it.”

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. “Thank you. I’ll be there soon.”

Later that morning, you met your friends at a cozy café. They greeted you with hugs and warm smiles, trying their best to lift your spirits. You forced yourself to smile back, but the weight of Hyunjin’s absence lingered.

As you sipped your coffee, one of your friends leaned closer. “How are you feeling now?”

“Still hurt,” you admitted quietly. “I keep telling myself not to care, but I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s like… how could he forget something like this? We’ve been together for years. He knows how much birthdays mean to me.”

Your other friend reached across the table to squeeze your hand. “You’re allowed to feel hurt, Y/N. Don’t bottle it up. But knowing Hyunjin, he’ll realize sooner or later and feel awful about it.”

You nodded but stayed silent, the sadness still gnawing at you. After a while, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, and though you appreciated their efforts, you couldn’t fully shake the disappointment.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin was at the studio, oblivious to the emotional turmoil he had caused. It wasn’t until he took a break and opened Instagram that everything clicked.

His heart dropped when he saw a post from your friend—a picture of you laughing at the café, the caption reading:

“Happy Birthday to the sweetest soul! Love you, @Y/N 💕🎉”

Hyunjin froze. “Birthday? No… it can’t be today.” But as he checked the date on his phone, reality hit him like a freight train.

He scrambled to open your messages, his fingers trembling as he typed.

“Y/N, baby, I’m so sorry. I just realized. Please call me.”

“Y/N, where are you? Please, I need to talk to you.”

“Baby, I messed up. I’m so sorry. Please answer me.”

But none of the messages went through. They were marked undelivered, a clear sign that you had turned your phone off. Panic surged through him.

“How could I forget?!” he muttered to himself, pacing the studio. Without wasting another second, he called his manager to clear his schedule and rushed home to make things right.

Back at the apartment, Hyunjin worked tirelessly to create a heartfelt surprise. He decorated the living room with string lights, candles and his paintings, filled a vase with your favorite flowers, and placed a small velvet box containing a delicate necklace on the coffee table.

He also booked a table at an upscale restaurant and bought you a gorgeous Versace dress, imagining how radiant you would look in it. Every detail was perfect—except for the sinking guilt in his chest.

When you finally returned home that evening, your face was streaked with dried tears, and your eyes were red and puffy. As you unlocked the door and stepped inside, you froze. The warm glow of fairy lights illuminated the room, and Hyunjin stood in the center, his face etched with guilt and love.

“Y/N…” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

You stood there, too emotionally drained to respond. Your gaze shifted to the flowers, the candles, and the neatly wrapped dress on the couch.

“What is all this?” you asked, your voice hoarse.

Hyunjin took a hesitant step closer. “It’s my way of saying I’m sorry. I forgot your birthday, and I can’t tell you how much I regret it. I have no excuse, Y/N. I was so caught up in everything else that I forgot the one person who matters most to me.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they were fueled by the sincerity in his voice. “Do you know how hurt I was, Hyunjin? I woke up thinking today would be special, but you weren’t even here. I felt so… forgotten.”

You took a small break and sighed. “You… you were the only one who didn’t make me feel this way—“

Hyunjin’s eyes filled with tears as he listened. “Please don’t use the past. I know I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. But I swear, it wasn’t because I don’t care. You’re everything to me, Y/N. Please, let me make it up to you.”

He gestured to the dress and added, “I planned a special dinner for us tonight. And this…” He picked up the necklace from the table. “This is for you. I know it doesn’t erase the pain I caused, but I hope it shows how much you mean to me.”

Your heart softened as his words sank in. Despite the hurt, you could see how deeply he regretted his mistake. Slowly, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him, letting his warmth melt the lingering sadness.

“I forgive you,” you whispered against his chest. “Just… don’t let it happen again.”

“Never,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Happy Birthday, my love.”

[rueclfer]

casual // touya todoroki part 2

when the boy you're in love with wants to keep it casual.

a/n: i was fighting for my life while writing this 😭 pray for her (and me while i write... part 3? HEHE)

part one part three

You made your way up the fire escape, the cold air and icy railing nipping at the bare skin of your neck and face for the short travel up a level.

From outside of his window, you took a second to admire the scene. Tenko was sitting criss crossed on the couch while cradling a beer in his lap, and directly across from him is Spinner on the ottoman with their switches out- in which you could only assume was playing super smash bros. Toga was at the kitchen bar taste testing Kurogiri's mixed drinks, and everyone else plus a few more unfamiliar faces were drunkenly draped over the couch, laughing at one another.

You continue peering around the room for Touya. No one else had noticed your presence outside the window quite yet.

"Looking for someone?" A deep voice snaps you from your search.

You look up to see Touya sitting on a step another level up.

"God, Touya." You shutter from the cold breeze. "What are you doing out here? It's freezing."

"Needed some air." He shrugs, crinkling a bottle of water in his hands. "Not going inside?"

You climb your way up to him, taking a seat right beside him. In the moonlight, his silver hair glowed blue, and at a closer look, the tip of his nose and cheeks were dusted with pink.

"Was just about to before you ambushed me." You smile at his tipsy state. "How much have you drank?" You pressed a hand to his cheek, making him melt into it from the warmth.

"Enough, and not enough at the same time." He chuckles, grabbing your remaining hand and pressing it against his other cheek.

"Fuck, you're warm." A sigh of relief escapes his lips.

"Can I kiss you?"

Fuck

You had just told Toga that you were done running in circles around him, but in this moment with the buzzing lamp post drilling into your head and his swollen lips mere inches from yours, it was almost an offer you couldn't turn down. Do you close the gap between you two and continue this charade or will you end it now?

In a perfect world, you wouldn't have to make this decision now- you wouldn't ever have to, but you loved him. Desperately.

You looked at him, deeply. His bloodshot and glossy eyes, an effect of the alcohol, were peering right into yours while waiting for your answer.

You could savor this forever- a rare moment where he's the one waiting for you.

After a beat of silence, he sensed your hesitation and leaned back, searching your face for an answer for your off behavior, because Touya knew that the answer would've always been a yes- undeniably so.

"What's wrong?"

I love you.

"Nothing." You force a reassuring smile. "Why?"

"I don't know. You looked like you were about to cry for a second there." He moves his hand to your face now, rubbing his ice cold thumbs against your cheek. "Maybe I'm just drunk." He smiles.

He pulls your head in to press a kiss on your hairline. "Also, I saw Fuyumi today. She said hey."

"I'll text her later." You couldn't help but feel a twinge of warmth knowing that you came up in conversation with his sister.

"Were you not gonna come tonight?"

"Hmmm I don't think so" You casually say "I was kinda busy, but the fomo was kicking."

"Works out in my favor." He chuckles. "You wanna go inside? Toga said she was expecting you."

He starts standing up, gripping onto the railing to stabilize himself. With his other hand, he extends it out for you.

"Yeah I owe her a shot. That is, if she's not already fucked up." You grab onto his hand and hoist yourself up.

"In that case, I'll cash in the shot in her place." He wraps his arm around your waist, helping you down the frosty steps.

Once you made it through the window, your body instantly warmed up with the thick air of the apartment. Across from the kitchen, Toga spots you and squeals to herself, motioning for you to come to her.

"Kurogiri's been showing me how to make drinks!" She grins, panning her arm to the array of mixed drinks and shots sitting on the counter.

"Christ, Toga who's going to drink all that?" Touya mutters behind you as he moves into the kitchen.

"Y/N and I, duh!" She rolls her eyes before passing you a glass with a shots worth of pale pink liquid.

You swallowed your hesitation and glanced over to Touya, who was leaning up against the refrigerator watching you with a slight smile.

Seeing his pretty face was not a good reminder for yourself as to why you were here in the first place. Nonetheless, you and Toga clink your glasses together and down the first shot.

You cough into your sleeve, letting the burn warm your skin and help settle into your nerves. You shoot her a warning glance when she slides another drink into your hands.

"Oh so you're trying to kill me tonight, huh?" You down the new drink, pinching your nose as the lukewarm liquid burns its way down your throat. You slide the empty glass to her just for her to replace it with more alcohol.

"If there's one way to cure a sad girl, it's alcohol." Toga clinks your glasses together before finishing off her's.

"I only promised you one shot!" You pushed the glass away. "I'm a lightweight, let me take a breather unless you want me on my ass in half an hour."

"Okay fine" She pouts. "Just finish this one and we'll stop."

You grimaced, but she shot you a knowing look. You needed this. You needed a night to not think and worry about repercussions later.

"Fuck you." You sigh, clinking your glass with her. "And I love you."

After the last shot, your head clouded and your skin went hot. You pulled out a bar stool to sit and propped your head in your hands, watching Toga and Kurogiri talk about the mixtures and types of alcohol they were experimenting with.

Maybe the last shot was overkill, but 3 shots in 5 minutes meant that you'll be sober in a couple hours? You hoped so, at least.

"If she starts throwing up, I'm gonna kick everyone out." Touya jokes.

"You think I'm done?" Toga starts. "Touya, you have to finish the rest of these drinks with me."

Touya kept his distance on the other side of the the kitchen, chatting and drinking with Kurogiri and Toga all while glancing your way every now and then.

You were confident that everyone in this apartment knew about your entanglement with Touya, but with any outings and functions, PDA and other romantic gestures were kept to a minimum. You kept your distance, but this last shot started to feel like you needed a moment alone with Touya.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

At some point when the alcohol had fully settled in your stomach, you decided to get up and wander around the apartment while everyone else was occupied.

You slowly go through the main hallway, looking at the framed band posters hung up that you had seen about a hundred times.

At the end of the hall, there was your favorite piece of decoration he had- a framed photo of him and his high school garage band at one of their practices. His hair was dyed midnight black and his jeans were all sorts of torn up and embellished with spikes and chains. Every time you came over, you had to look at it at least once. You always told him that you wished you met him at this age, and that he could've broken your heart, but he insists that he would've never been able to pull you in the first place.

You continue your walk, staying close to the wall to keep your balance before you finally made it to his bedroom. You step in and takes deep breath, savoring the crisp pine and green apple that lingered from his cologne.

If you had been sober, you probably wouldn't be bold enough to sneak off to his bedroom in the middle of the get together, but you were sure that he would rather you lay in his bed than the bathroom floor.

You flop down and close your eyes for a moment of solitude. You made a mental note to curse Toga out for getting you this tipsy when it was only supposed to be one drink.

"How did I know I could find you here?"

You instantly recognized the voice and the chuckle that paired with it.

"Shut up." You muttered, keeping your eyes closed. "If you didn't let me drink so much, I wouldn't have to crash here."

"So sorry, pretty girl. My fault." You feel the bed shift as he crawls onto the bed to sit beside you. "I brought something for you."

You open your eyes and sit up to see him holding out a red solo cup. You shoot him a glare.

"It's water, before you say anything."

You release a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

You downed the water in one go, letting the cold liquid bring you back to life. You lean over to set the empty cup on his bedside table before letting yourself lay back down. Touya follows suit, propping himself up on his elbow.

"You feeling okay?" He brings his hand up to your cheek, lightly brushing away stray hairs.

You nodded your head, letting yourself soak in his light touches. Looking up at him from this angle made your stomach twist. You reached up and held his hand on your cheek, letting your thumb brush over his knuckles.

"Can I have a kiss?" You turned towards him, propping yourself up to face him.

He smiles and leans in, pressing a soft and gentle kisses on your lips and cheeks.

"Should I kick everyone out?" He whispers between kisses. "Just you and me tonight. I'll take care of you."

"Aren't you drunk too?" You prop yourself up, leaning over him and making him fall back on the bed.

"Yeah but not multiple-shots-in-the-span-of-2-seconds drunk like you."

You drag your finger down his nose bridge, tracing it down to his lips where he gives your finger a kiss. You replace your finger with you own lips, letting your hand fall to cup the side of his neck.

"Say the word and all of those fuckers will be out of here." He silently mutters against your lips.

In your mind, you were screaming at yourself. You wanted the night with him, but you couldn't bear doing this to yourself anymore. Every night spent with him and watching him leave through your window made your self worth crumble bit by bit.

"Enticing offer." You smile, sitting upright now. "But I think I might have to throw up."

His eyes widen in fear. "And you're telling me this now?"

He sits up and hops off the bed, pulls you off with him by the arms. "Idiot. Sweet, beautiful idiot." He presses a kiss to your temple before ushering you to his bathroom.

He helps you kneel down in front of the toilet before running out to grab more water.

You sit there for a moment before dry heaving into the toilet a few times. Nothing. With every cough, you cringed at yourself. Here you were, at a party you didn't even want to go to, gagging in the bathroom of someone who doesn't love you back.

You knew you truly didn't have to throw up, maybe just gag it out a bit, but you mainly needed to step away from Touya to clear your mind. Tomorrow, when you would have to tell Toga about how you folded is going to be a whole separate issue for you after tonight.

In the corner of your eye, you saw a glistening black rectangular object lay next to his trash can. You reach over to grab it, revealing itself to be a tube of berry red lipstick. You felt sick to your stomach, but for a different reason now.

In your drunken state and the alcohol running through your veins, you felt yourself choking up with tears. You knew you weren't the only one, but now that it was right in your face, there was no more pretending that you were. God, how stupid you felt.

"Get it together, Y/N. It was never going to work out." You thought to yourself.

You began to stand up, stumbling while doing so. Right as you steady yourself on the the door frame, Touya comes back in with a glass of water in his hands.

"Done already?" He asked, peering over your shoulder to see the damage.

You say nothing and move around him to get pass He sets the glass down and grabs your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

"Where are you going?" His eyes widened once he see the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"What's wrong?" He says a bit quieter.

You choked out a laugh before showing him the object in your palm. "One of your girlfriends left this."

He gives you a puzzled look. "Okay? And you're upset over this? Why?"

"Are you serious, Touya? You're asking me why I'm upset over finding another girl's lipstick in your bathroom." You purse your lips,

He runs a hand through his hair, and releases a long sigh of air. "Y/N. This thing between us...it's casual. You know that. You can't get mad at me for that when we both agreed to it."

"Casual?" You spit back. "Is it casual that you're always coming to my window at 12am to fuck and talk about our futures? Is it casual when your siblings invite me over for dinner? Is it casual when you leave your front door open for me?" You exclaim. "It just doesn't make sense to me."

You storm out of his room to find that his apartment empty of your friends. He wasn't lying earlier, after all.

"Come on, Y/N." He follows you out "We were friends before anything else. In the beginning, Toga told me that you had a little crush on me, and I thought it was cute, but I didn't think it would turn out like this."

You make your way to the window, almost ready to jump out from embarrassment. A crush.. a little crush.

You rub your face in your hands. "You see, that's the problem, Touya. I think I'm in love with you, and you think I'm cute. Is it still casual?"

You step out onto the fire escape, and look back at him. This whole time you were avoiding his gaze, but there he was, his eyes wide and mouth gaped open watching you disappear from his fire escape for the last time.

tags: @bumblebeebutter @whitneys-favorite-slut @randomrosie01 @yuwuuta @raquel-star @the2ndl @vixendeery

[minkoq]

🍓 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

katsuki's favourite camgirl; fem! reader

warnings: nsfw, cam girl, male + female masturbation, use of sex toys, lowkey gooning

part 1 , part 2

🎐— after a tiring day at work the only thing he ever wanted was to watch your streams. how you'd greet them ever so softly, you starting to knead your breasts through your thin shirt.

🎐— it all made him crazy, your whimpers were like music to his ears. watching how you'd unbutton your dress shirt, revealing a sheer lilac bra. him stroking his cock softly, watching you play with yourself on screen.

🎐— watching how you're fucking yourself on a silicone dildo, squeezing his tip, hoping that one day he could get to fuck your sopping pussy like this.

🎐— he came on the screen way too early, you still riding the dildo, he continued stroking his cock, watching how easily the toy slipped in and out of you.

🎐— he looked at the side of his screen, in the bottom of your stream was written that you made personal videos for the highest tipper.

🎐— he sighed, contemplating if he should do it, he looked at the person who tipped highest and it was almost $300, he groaned, will he actually spend this much money on a stranger?

🎐— but in the end he gave in, being way too horny to even think straight, in the end he does have the money. he tipped her around $600, now he's struggling to type in a message that wouldn't sound too corny.

🎐— but when he heard you moan and cry as you fucked yourself, he knew exactly what he'd type in.

🎐— "i'd love to see you in a dynamight shirt." he wrote in the donation, and sent it to her. waiting to see her reaction.

🎐— she rubbed her clit in circular motions, then the sound of the donation came in and she saw the tip, she gasped softly in pleasure. "woah, thank.. you for the tip.." she moaned out in surprise.

🎐— she continued riding the dildo, "i'll.. make the video after.. the stream.. hahh.." she sighed out in pleasure.

🎐— after the stream was done, she dm'ed him, asking katsuki for the name she should say in the video. he gulped, hesitating if he should write in his real name, then she might immediately know who he is if she puts one and one together.

🎐— he looked down at his leaking cock, it would make him cum immediately if she said his real name, though.. he texted her his first name.

🎐— then after around 30 minutes he received the video, she looked gorgeous.. and she had the shirt on..

🎐— "hey katsuki! thank you so much for the tip, i appreciate it so much!" she started the video, "you're such a loyal viewer of mine, subbed to me for already 10 months! i don't know how i'd ever repay you.. well except with my videos.." she giggled and ended the video, biting her lip sensually.

🎐— katsuki groaned in embarrassment, his whole semen spilling over the screen, he wanted to fuck her so bad. it wasn't even funny anymore.

🎐— then she sent another text, "have fun with the video, dynamight ;)" and he sighed at that, now she knew who he was. shit.

[misserabella]

two geniuses (addiction)

spencer reid x fem! reader

masterlist! (this is part 5 of the series, check out the rest!!)

summary; after your kidnapping, everything falls apart. spencer’s there to pick up the pieces.

cw; angst, hurt-comfort, fluff, hospitals, drug withdrawal, depression, feelings of emptiness, worthlessness, dirtiness, ptsd, mentions of guns and shots being fired, kissing (yippeeee!!!!), spencer being a sweetheart, pinning, gets a little suggestive but no +18, crying, cuddling…

everything was bright. too bright, and the beeping of the machines around you washed through you like the remains of a lullaby as your eyes slowly blinked open.

you were so hooked up on pain medication that you couldn’t fathom the trauma your body had gone through, but just as you came back into consciousness, all the memories came back. the torture, the sound and feeling of your bones giving up, the smell of your skin burning…

your eyes fell down at the sudden movement of someone else rising from the end of the bed you had been days glued to. spencer. spencer reid was there, puppy brown eyes slowly peeling open before he noticed you were awake, quickly scattering to stand straight with a bewildered expression.

“hey… how are you feeling?” but he was soft. so soft. it almost made you scream. ‘cause you had just gone through torture, someone had broken you, broken you to your core, and spencer was talking to you as if there was still something left that could suffer.

you didn’t answer him, your eyes falling to the nervous fidgeting of his hands, which were strangely all scribbled on.

“uh, right, sorry, it’s just that i was so worried about you not waking up that i couldn’t focus and memorize so i had to write it down and…” your heart skipped a beat, and it almost hurt. he didn’t knew you’d wake up. after four days of unconsciousness, spencer feared you had gone into a coma due to the shock and trauma.

“what are they?” you pointed at the words on his skin.

“they… uhm…, well, they’re ways to help you.”

“help me?”

“yes… with your trauma.” you stared at him in silence and his lips quivered. “torture can lead to permanent physical disabilities and psychologically scar victims, leaving them with profound and long-lasting mental health issues such as post-traumatic stress disorder, as well as anxiety and depressive disorders. although many victims demonstrate extraordinary resilience, resourcefulness and agency, torture can profoundly impact all aspects of a person’s daily life. severe headaches, insomnia, suicidal ideation, being easily frightened, being in heightened emotional states, feeling suspicious, having flashbacks, and involuntary disassociation are some of the most frequently reported symptoms of torture trauma. this can make it extremely difficult for people to maintain social relations, work, carry out basic day-to-day tasks and to participate in rehabilitative programs or administrative and judicial procedures…” you listened to his rambling, his brown eyes everywhere but on you. “i did some research. i…i wanted to help.”

spencer looked at you, and swallowed, cause you looked so… empty. that’s how you felt as well. you didn’t feel sad for what had happened to you, or angry, you felt absolutely nothing.

your stable heartbeat beeped through the room.

your hand reached for his, looking for something, anything. anything that would make it erratic, that would make you feel something. were you still high? was tobias’ effect still lingering? but before you could get too close to him you retracted, fisting the bedding.

“sorry, reid, could we talk another time? i’m so tired…”

his eye shifted, his adam’s apple bobbed.

“sure.” he almost tripped as he stood up. “i’ll let you rest. the team is taking shifts so there’s always one of us around in case you need anything.” you nodded and he mimicked you. he was stiff as a stick, moving like a puppet in strings.

after that you watched as he made his way out of your room, leaving you alone, again. you felt chained to the bed, like you had been tied to that chair days back and it made you shiver, the brand on your chest hurting.

you shifted, bringing your knees to your chest, encapsulating yourself in hopes that no more pain would come, almost expecting it.

it didn’t. but you still hoped so. cause then you’d be distracted by the void on your chest, the brokenness of your soul and of the fact that you loved spencer reid.

your stable heart jumped a beat at the realization.

your skin was on fire, and your sheets were soaked. your whole body was engulfed in tremors and pain. they had offered you something for it but you’d declined.

“no more drugs. no more please.” you’d trembled.

it hurt. everything hurt.

“how can i help? how can i help you, y/n?” morgan insisted, pained by your suffering.

“reid.”

“reid?”

“i need spencer reid.” your teeth clicked. morgan was fast, it was mere luck that spencer —well— that he hadn’t left the hospital that day. —He never did.—

he rushed in, hair disheveled, chest heaving as if he had ran all the way to your room —what he did—. he called out your name and you swallowed as he stepped closer, hands in the air, not knowing if he should touch you, wishing he could. “what do i do? what can i do?”

“hold me. please.”

he was on you on an instant, arms softly surrounding you as he made space for himself on your hospital bed.

“breathe. breathe please, i’m here.” he shushed, one of his hands on your hair as your own clung to his vest.

if it were another person, spencer would have ran the other way due to the sweat and germs and the closeness, but this was you. you. needing him.

“it hurts.” you shakily breathed out, trying your best to pace your panting.

“i know. i know…” ‘cause what could he say? what more than holding you could he do?

but truth be told it’s just what you needed. this. him. holding you close exactly like this.

“i’m sorry.” surprisingly enough, that was you.

“sorry? for what?” he inquired.

“for everything.” you shook before losing consciousness again.

going back to work was something you shouldn’t be doing right now. but the minimum time hotch obliged you to take off was up and you needed to be back on working.

your wounds were healed up, the physical ones at least.

‘cause you still hadn’t come up to mourning that horrible day, or actually meddling with the emptiness and dirtiness you felt. you hadn’t even cried about it.

the first days were nothing easy, everything silently triggered you, and had you taking breaks to take deep breaths. you reminded yourself of what spencer had told you to do as he held you; breathe, i’m here.

and he was, until he wasn’t. until you pushed him away and stopped talking to him altogether after your withdrawal symptoms had fewered and you could actually handle the pain by yourself, after you could think once again and didn’t let your heart meddle with your actions.

there was silence on your end. static. it was messing with spencer’s head. no comments. no remarks. no snarky comments. nothing. he almost wished you could go back to hating him instead of… whatever this was.

and still, he couldn’t bring himself to ask you. to ask you if you had noticed that he didn’t hate you anymore. if you had noticed how his way of looking at you had changed. ‘cause the truth was that spencer had never been more afraid than the day he almost lost you. and almost losing you had made him realize that he in fact didn’t want to lose you, ‘cause he would be losing a part of himself.

spencer liked you. as more than coworkers or possible friends. he kind of had always known, deep down, it had always been you. you and your stupid intelligence, and pretty smile, and loud voice, and snarky remarks, and plush lips, and soft curves and…

and now you were gone.

you helped in cases, but you only talked when necessary, you never smiled anymore, you hummed at his words, and you hid yourself on large clothes and turtlenecks, as if you couldn’t stand the thought of the world actually acknowledging you. seeing you.

but spencer saw you. he always did. and still does. he saw the pain you so tried to hide, saw the fear every time you held up your gun, the tremble of your hands when shots are fired.

and he doesn’t know how to fix it. he doesn’t know how to take it all away.

but he knows something for sure. and that it is that’s he’s gonna try.

it’s not for another week that it happens. you’d just gotten home from your last case, exhausted, when someone knocks at your door.

your umbrella is still dripping by the entrance, a storm hitting D.C. just as soon as you had landed. you’d scoffed. it was as if the weather had matched the storm in your insides, the clouds in your heart and the unshed tears of your eyes.

hazel eyes meet yours when the door creaks open under the turning of the knob. and before your eyes, stood a soaking wet spencer, shivering under the rain, brown hair adhered to his face, cheeks and nose a pretty shade of red.

“reid? god how long have you been standing out there?” you inquired as you opened the door wider for him to come inside.

“sorry, i just-“ you made a beeline towards your bathroom, grabbing a towel for him to dry off. he didn’t. he was too distracted to feel cold. “i just didn’t know if i should’ve come.” i didn’t know if you would want to see me.

“so what, you just stayed there pondering under the rain?” he looked at you as if he’d been caught, wide eyes zeroing on you. “jesus, spencer.” you sighed. “you sometimes don’t live to the genius title, you know?” he just stared at you. “what?”

“nothing. i just missed you saying my name.” that shook you to your core. you two stood there. looking at each other before you looked away, incapable to keep eye contact anymore. it almost burned.

“what are you doing here, reid?”

“i don’t know.” he replied.

“you don’t know?”

“i just… i just needed to see you.” he sighed.

“you saw me an hour ago, reid.” he shook his head.

“no. really see you.”

“what are you talking about?”

“i see you, y/n. i’m here. why do you keep pushing me away?”

“spencer-“ he took a step forward, capturing your face with his cold hands, the towel falling with a thud to the floor.

“i held you when i found you. i held you when you were in agony in that hospital bed. i’ve held you through your worst, i’ve seen you, y/n. so why. why do you push me aside?”

“you don’t understand. he changed me. he killed me. he… he branded me.” you looked away, feeling tears coming to your eyes. “i’m not the same anymore. i’m flawed. i’m dirty.”

“look at me.” he whispered, and your glassy eyes found his. “never say that again. you’re not dirty. what happened to you was not your fault. and that scar doesn’t make you any less beautiful. cause that’s what you are, y/n. you’re beautiful.” he breathed against your lips. his eyes fell to the plush of them and your mouth opened in a murmur.

“don’t.” you looked to the side, but he brought you back with tender circles on your cheek. “you don’t wanna kiss me. you don’t wanna be with me. i’ll just make everything harder.”

“i don’t care if it’s hard.” he whispered, looking into your eyes with such love that it struck your bones. “i want it because it’s you. i want you, y/n.”

and then his lips were pushing against yours, softly. just a mere peck, but it was enough to break all the walls that you’ve put up around yourself.

he seemed to be the only person capable of doing it, he had always been.

finally, a tear spilled down your cheek, and a sob raked through your body.

“you’re beautiful.” he repeated as you fell into his arms in heavy sobs. he hushed you, holding you tenderly, one of his hands on the back of your head, pushing you against his chest. you could hide there forever. “i’m here. i’m here, okay?”

you pulled from him, lips pressing against his in a proper kiss, a desperate one, where tears were streaming down your face and little tremors raked through your body. he corresponded, matching your fervor, but still holding you carefully, as if you were made out of glass.

you pulled at his clothes, and he gasped against your lips, pushing away.

“y/n…”

“please. please spencer.” you begged, eyes teary, soul shaking, heart thumping. you trusted him. you trusted him with your life. and loved him with your entire existence. yet all you had to give was your body, your lips, your words. it didn’t seem enough. you hoped it would be.

“baby…, no. you don’t have to.” he shushed you, his eyes holding that promise.

“but…”

he silenced you with the softest kiss anyone had ever given you.

“i just wanna hold you. can i do that, angel?” he asked, and you nodded, being rewarded by his precious smile.

“but you’re not getting into my bed like that.” you pointed out.

“like what?”

“spencer, you look like a wet dog.” he opened his mouth in fake hurt.

“oh yeah?”

“yeah.” he hummed, and before you knew he was hugging you and shaking his head against yours so the droplets on his hair would hit you. you shrieked, before laughter spilled from your chest as you tried to push him away.

he smiled and stared at you. ‘cause finally, you were smiling. and spencer made a promise to himself; he’ll try everything on his power to keep you that way.

spencer spends the whole night in your bed, holding you, whispering nothings into your ear, caressing your face, fingers combing through your hair. he holds you when you cry, and kisses your tears away. and when you finally fall asleep he makes another promise; that no harm will ever found you again, not as long as he’s there to protect you from it.

🤍hope you guys like it.

[parfaitblogs]

waiting room ❀ s. reid x reader

in which he breaks up with you, and your life slowly falls apart. so obviously you should see him?

pairing: ex!spencer reid x reader genre: angst tags: implied alcohol reliance? lots of nothing happening not even a gun to my head could get me to write action... do not read if emotionally stable because i sure wasn't when i wrote this. word count: 1.9k a/n: i never write in second person so if there's a cheeky she her they them somewhere in this ignore it!!! i do not know what i am doing!!! probably not proofread enough. also no happy ending i hate those let the people cry i say! i haven't posted my writing in like three years be nice...

also posted here on my ao3 !

"Hey."

"Hi."

Awkward silence. Horribly awkward silence.

Your eyes darting around a bar that you found all too familiar, with decor that you could paint on a canvas with your eyes closed, and such a distinct smell that you could imagine it from miles away. You didn't think you'd ever forget the way the air moved in this bar, or the sound of the same three bands singing every Friday night on repeat. You knew all the words to their songs by now. And the bartender knew your name, embarrassingly so. 

And even over the sound of patrons talking, and the clinking of glasses and every other overwhelming sound that drove you crazy, you felt like you could hear your heartbeat slamming against your chest. Your lips chapped, never wetting no matter how many times you produced the saliva in your otherwise dry mouth to lick them. Hands wrapped around an ice cold glass that did nothing but numb some part of your body, to accompany the numb feeling in your chest. 

You looked better than you felt, but he was knocking both parts of you out of the park. Maybe that's why your mouth was so dry. You'd tell yourself that it is, at least. He's too attractive to talk to. But you could talk to him. You did talk to him. All the time. About everything, and nothing. Because that's what you two did. 

And yet; the awkward silence. 

He cleared his throat, and it prompted you to take a sip of your drink, mixed alcohol falling down your throat and leaving a burn that shouldn't comfort you, but did. You didn't pull a face at the taste of it the way you used to, and you found yourself wishing that part of you that you despised was back. 

Maybe he would tease you for it again.

"How's work?"

The words felt foreign on your lips. It wasn't really what you wanted to ask him, but every inquiry you had died on your tongue before you could ask them, nothing feeling good enough. 

"It's good," he answered, eyes studying you in a way that made you want to shrink into nothingness. 

"That's good," you said, and you saw the small twitch of his lips — brief, before they fell back into their natural downturned shape. 

It was almost comical how much silence sat between you two. Two people who would talk until people around them were groaning and regretting asking them a question, falling silent in the presence of one another. 

He cleared his throat again. Maybe you should offer him some water, but then you realised this wasn't your house and he was fully capable of getting his own water. And everything else in the world.

"How's work for you?"

"It's good," you answered, half-heartedly, because you really didn't know. You hadn't been in months. 

You didn't really realise a breakup would affect you this much. You had always been good. Good at putting emotional turmoil on pause for your busy life. You never considered the possibility of putting your busy life on pause for emotional turmoil. 

But then Spencer Reid left you. You never considered the possibility of that happening either, until it did. 

"Is it?" he asked, and you watched his body shift slightly in his seat, almost leaning closer to you. 

And unfortunately, you can only pretend in front of the man across from you for so long. "No," you said.

"Why not?" 

"I'm not going." Your voice was embarrassingly quiet, but you knew he heard you, because his eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, and his lips parted for a second. It made you want to take the words back; to lie again. "I got laid off a week ago."

He slowly nodded his head in recognition — that would explain your sudden request to meet. "I'm sorry."

You could imagine a million things you knew he'd be saying the words for, but not one part of you really believed it for any of them. So you only nodded your head, gaze dropping from him to the glass in front of you, the paper straw disintegrating in the liquid — something you weren't used to; you would finish drinks too quickly for that to happen. 

You didn't come here to mope. You do that every other Friday night. You didn't need to do that tonight, when the man you were spending your nights sobbing and your mornings numb over was right there with you.

"How's your mom?" you ask instead, lifting your head back up, and you watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. 

"She's okay. Same as usual," he said, and you nodded your head. Short answers seemed to be the only thing you guys knew how to do. "How's yours?"

"Good," you answer, because the question doesn't really have the same weight as it did when you asked him; he only did it to be courteous. "She misses having you over."

That brought a small smile to his face. "I miss being over."

You can come back, you want to say, but you know that isn't true. 

You don't know how much longer you two sit in silence before he breaks it with a sigh that, if you didn't know better, you'd think was irritated. But it wasn't; simply exhausted. 

"Why did you want to meet me?" he finally asked, and your lips parted, before shutting again, because you're not too sure the answer is something you're allowed to say aloud. 

You say it anyway.

"I missed you."

You watched his facial features soften, his shoulders relaxing slightly, and that only seemed to bring more nervous energy to you. 

"You shouldn't," he said, and if your heart had anything left for him, it probably would have cracked again. 

You knew that you shouldn't. You had told yourself to get over it a thousand times before. Your go-to mantra was grow up. But you couldn't. Your brain wouldn't let it go and your eyes could just never stay dry for long enough to think it's finally over. It was almost pathetic. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding your head, slowly, and you were pretty sure tears were welling in your eyes, which felt even more pathetic in front of him. 

"I'm sorry."

This time it was you to apologise, and you knew he didn't believe your apology either. Not when you didn't even know what you were apologising for. Missing him, meeting him here, ever even dating him in the first place.

"It's okay," he said, instead, and you watched him exhale shakily, his lips rubbing against each other — usually a telltale sign he didn't want to be wherever he was any longer. That broke your heart too. 

Words died in your throat as you abruptly stood up, the stool you were perched atop wobbling slightly with your sudden movements. 

You stared at him for another moment, committing his face to memory, before you nodded your head to him in acknowledgement, pocketing your phone. You forced a smile, and left. 

Maybe not the best move you've ever done in your life. Not the move you wanted to do. But certainly the smartest. 

Because the second the cool, early fall air hit your skin, so did your tears, and you found that even ordering an Uber was difficult through blurry vision. So you decided to walk. Walk where, you didn't know. Away from the bar. Through the people-filled square; people as drunk as you wished to be, people out with friends and partner's, to have fun. People having a much better night than you, clearly. 

You heard your name. And something in you screamed to not turn around, to not give in to the caller. Probably the logical part of your brain. But your heart ignored it, and you halted in your tracks, turning to see him walking towards you, eyebrows furrowed in so much concern you think you'd crack further than you already have. Maybe if you split yourself down the middle it would finally stop hurting. 

"I miss you too."

Four simple words that could be heard even over the mixed songs playing from the clubs around you, even over the beeping cars and the chattering people. 

"Please don't lie to make me feel better," you croak, and you're acutely aware of the tears on your cheeks. 

"I'm not lying," he breathed out, and you were far enough away from his body to see his hand twitch. For whatever reason you didn't know. "Sweetheart, you're breaking my heart, here."

Oh.

You swallowed down a sob, swiping another set of falling tears before they could get too far down your cheeks.

"Spencer, please," you said, so desperately that you wanted to shoot yourself. "I shouldn't have asked you to meet."

"No, you shouldn't have," he agreed, and your heart stuttered in your chest, because he was telling you things you shouldn't do. Again. "Not that I—" he cut himself off with a sigh; frustrated, this time. "Not that I didn't want to see you, because I did. You're the only person I want to see recently. But I was getting better, and I know I've ruined all that by being here with you tonight."

I was getting better. The words echoed over and over in your brain. If he was just as bad as you were, maybe it would make this easier. Maybe you aren't as pathetic. 

"I hate this," you settled on, fidgeting awkwardly with your fingers. 

He didn't respond for a few too many moments, and it had you wanting to take back your words. He rubbed his eyes with another sigh. 

"I'm not going back on my decision," he said, and you didn't need to ask what decision; you had an idea, and your stomach twisted uncomfortably. 

But you did anyways. "Which decision?"

"Breaking up with you."

You were silent for a few moments too. "I'm not asking you to—"

"—No, but you want me to," he cuts you off. "And I'm telling you I won't. You know why I did it. That trumps whatever feelings I have for you."

Have.

"I don't know why," you said, shakily. You did. He gave you a reason, and if you had to explain the breakup to someone, you could tell them why. But the ongoing conflict in your brain confused you anyways. 

"Yes you do," he answered, his jaw tensing. When you shook your head, and went to respond, he cut you off, stepping closer. "I can afford to lose you. I can't afford for the world to."

He had said something similar the day he left. Something about a fear of you dying. Something you had tried to reassure him of, failing to do so clearly. 

"What about me?" your voice cracked and you cursed it.

"It will get better."

You could've cried all over again, in the middle of the square. Everything always for the better. Never for the right now, for the things you both wanted. But for the everlasting fear Spencer had in his brain, that you didn't know how to help. 

"Apparently," you replied, sniffling as you took a step away from him. "I think I should go."

If he wanted to protest, he didn't show it. He simply nodded his head, lips parting in a silent exhale. 

And so you did, with wet cheeks, and a quiet, "Goodbye, Spencer."

loml (part 2) ♡

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[lalacliffthorne]

📃 the basic rules of friendship 📃

Azriel x Reader

summary: the basic rules of friendship. and how to break them.

notes: oh boy. writing this one was pure and utter chaos. it gave me a headache. it did not want to work out. I changed the whole damn plot like five times, because I just wasn't happy with my ideas; they didn't work, they didn't feel right, but I had this specific part that I really wanted to write around, so I couldn't just give it up and call it a day either. then once I finally had it figured out, it still took ages to finish the whole thing, because my brain just wasn't braining - to sum it up, this lil piece of writing basically fried me. but, the last few days, it got easier, I wasn't just staring at the words anymore and what I wrote finally didn't feel blah - and I made it!

so here are the basic rules of friendship. they are long af, and even though they strongly advise against it, there's smut. steamy steamy smut.

______________________________________________________________

the basic rules of friendship

no. 1: friends are there for each other (friends also never get jealous).

Staring up at the male in front of me, I hoped my facial expression didn't convey my current thoughts.

Someone help me.

" - so of course we went in, and even though it was a bit of a struggle, we managed to get them all." The male sent me a grin, and I felt my lips curve, though it probably looked slightly pained.

Mor had decided it was that time of year again where she tried herself at being a matchmaker. She had picked me as target of the night, using the festivities as a clever cover to drag me from one male she thought might fit the requirements to the next.

The one I was talking to now was by far the most pleasant one this evening, which was probably why I hadn't bolted yet. He had even managed to make me laugh a few times, while the few males before that had been closer to making me cry in despair. He was fairly pretty too, with a cheeky smile, dimples and warm eyes. And I really should have been interested, because he seemed sweet, and funny, and actually charming.

But it just didn't click.

There was something about him - no, actually, it was something that wasn't there. His humor wasn't dry enough. He was a bit too reserved. He didn't quite get my teasing.

There was just something missing.

The way he smiled didn't do anything for me; no little skip in my chest, no hitch in my breath. His voice didn't send tingles down my spine, the dimple in his cheek was not quite right, he was a bit too hulky -

Something churned a little in my chest, and I almost winced.

Gods, what was wrong with me?

The air behind me shifted, and for a second, I wondered if maybe I had left my mental shields down and either Rhys or Feyre had caught onto my thoughts and had decided to step in before I went down a rabbithole of possibilties of what could be wrong with me.

But then the male in front of me straightened a little, suddenly looking alert, a familiar scent washed over me, cool and frosty, like pine woods in winter, and something skipped softly against my ribs.

Quickly looking over my shoulder, my eyes moved up, and up, and my shoulders sank a little when they found the face of the male suddenly towering over me.

Azriel's eyes were piercing, unwavering and unreadable as usual, and they were fixed onto the male in front of me. Shadows were swirling around him, creeping over his wings and shoulders, some gently brushing over my back like a happy greeting.

The shadowsinger's face itself looked like carved from marble, jaw sharp and set, the muscles in his cheeks shifting with what looked strangely like tension.

"Hey." I hoped the relief didn't vibrate too strongly through my voice, quickly turning back towards the male in front of me with an apologetic smile.

I had to give it to him, he had balls: Even though the Spymaster of the Night Court was staring right at him, unsettlingly quiet and brooding, the male hadn't immediately shrunk into himself.

Though he did look very uncomfortable.

"I'm going to -" He pointed over his shoulder, sending me a soft grin, and I smiled back, again hoping the relief wasn't too visible in how bright it was.

One corner of the male's lips curved. Then he turned around, and I felt my shoulders sag.

"Thanks." I breathed out, turning around to send Azriel a relieved, crooked smile.

The shadowsinger's eyes followed after the male for another second before they turned down towards me, and his gaze lost some of that unreadable coolness, softening. His eyes moved over my face, and he seemed to catch onto something, because his gaze narrowed in, and a slight crease formed between his brows.

And because it was Azriel, he didn't even have to ask.

The words just tumbled out before i could stop them.

"Is there something wrong with me?"

Azriel's lips parted a little. Then his eyes sharpened, his shoulders shifting as his gaze moved up over my head, zeroing in on somebody behind me, and something skipped high in my chest at the way his gaze froze over, becoming steely and quietly raging like a rising tide -

Hastily, I widened my eyes.

"No, no; he didn't -", I huffed and breathed out, turning my eyes towards the twinkling night sky in a half-laugh. "It's not because of him, it's - me."

The dangerous promise in Azriel's eyes vanished with a blink, but the light crease between his brows deepend as his gaze returned to my face. The warm lights dotted all over the House of Winds' terraces threw shadows under his jaw and made his amber eyes glow softly, his dark hair tousled and skin rosy from the cool wind.

"It's just -" I exhaled again, furrowing my brows softly at myself.

"There's this male, who's actually not a jerk, and who seems good and funny and interested, and - nothing. Absolutely nothing. I just kept finding things that were wrong, even though I don't even know what would have been right, and -", I shook my head and looked up at Azriel, frowning gently as something churned a little in my chest.

"Is there? Something wrong with me?"

Azriel stared at me before huffing, and something tipped over in my chest when a soft snorted laugh broke from his throat.

I frowned, feeling something tighten a little under my ribs. "What?"

Azriel's lips were still twitching upwards like I had just made some sort of joke only he understood as he turned his face away, shaking his head a little. Then he looked back down at me. His amber eyes flickered over mine for a moment, and there was something in the way he stared at me that soothed the soft twinge under my ribs.

Azriel blinked, then he said steadily, his low, deep voice gently tickling my spine: "There's nothing wrong with you." His gaze moved over my face, and something I couldn't place shifted in his eyes, tinging his voice when he added: "He just wasn't what you're looking for."

"I don't even know what I'm looking for,", I grumbled under my breath, but there was a soft skip in my chest, that bit of tightness gone when I looked up at Azriel. "How am I supposed to find something when I don't know what it looks like?"

Az blinked again, eyes resting on mine. "You'll know."

I felt my brows furrow gently at the sound of his voice, a little quiet and distant but so, so sure.

Feeling my lips twitch, I raised an eyebrow. "That's sappy."

Azriel huffed, but his lips twitched even as he glared down at me, almost like he couldn't hold back the way they curved at the corners. Then he lightly raised a brow. "Mor looks like she's got the next target."

I cursed softly and quickly slid my hand into the crook of his arm, bumping my shoulder into his biceps.

"Come on, let's go, I need a drink."

no. 2: friends talk about their feelings.

“What the fuck was that?”

The door slammed behind me, and I raised my head just in time to see Azriel turn around, his eyes burning into mine so fiercely, I almost held my breath.

Running a hand down my face, I shook my head, my voice tired when I mumbled: “Can we not –“

“I told you to get out, and you didn't listen, you disobeyed orders –“

“Orders?” I stared at him, feeling something begin to bubble in my chest. “You told me to run and fucking leave you!”

“And you didn't!” Azriel's voice sounded like thunder, not simmering anger, but loud and deep. Shadows gathered around his feet, and his wings flared when he stalked towards me, blood dripping from the wound in his side, but he didn't even seem to notice. “You came back when I told you to leave; you could've fucking died!”

“You would have died!” My voice was incredulous as I stared up at him with wide eyes, and Azriel's jaw tightened as he took one last step forward, his chest almost pressing into mine as he glared down at me.

“Then I would have died.” His voice was quiet again and cold, so cold, but his eyes were whirling with emotions I couldn't decipher as they burned into mine. “But you would have been safe.”

Staring up at him, my eyes blown wide, I felt my breathing pick up as I tried to fight against the way my chest grew tighter with every second. Then I exploded.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Azriel blinked like I had slapped him across the face, but it felt like some kind of dam had broken, because the words just started falling, becoming louder with every second.

“I don't give a shit about being safe if it means you try and sacrifice yourself! You asshole! What the fuck is wrong with you?! I couldn't just leave you because I will never leave you to sacrifice yourself like your fucking life means nothing, because it does, it means everything!” My voice broke as my voice rose into a scream, and I felt tears well in my eyes as the ache under my ribs grew and I hit my fist against his chest.

“You're hurt, you would have died!! What the hell is wrong with you that you think I could just leave you for death, you moron, what would I be living for if you died, especially because of me; it wouldn't mean a thing! You fucking asshole!” My vision blurred as tears streamed over my cheeks. Azriel stared at me like he had never seen me before, frozen in place as I heaved with quiet sobs, my whole body trembling as I tried to fight for air.

“Don't you get it? You're –“ My voice broke.

Everything.

Azriel's eyes pierced mine, emotion whirling in them, jumbled, indiscernable. Then he blinked.

“Come here,”, he mumbled, his voice hoarse, and I breathed in shudderingly, tears streaming over my face when his hand closed around my elbow and he pulled me forward, not caring a bit that he was still dripping blood onto the carpet as he dragged me into his chest.

“I'm sorry.” I could feel his low voice vibrating through my body, quiet and rough when he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and buried his nose in my hair, and I hiccuped, feeling tears stream over my face as I slid my own arms around his middle and clung to him.

“Never ask that of me -” My voice broke, and Azriel tightened his grip, the tension not leaving his frame as he slipped his hand up my back to tangle his fingers in my hair, his thumb slowly brushing over my skin when he raised his head a little to press his lips against my temple.

“I'm sorry,”, he mumbled against my skin, soft but hoarse, and I buried my face in the crook of his neck, my body trembling with silent, heaving sobs as I held onto the male who held me.

no. 3: friends might engage in the occasional amicable teasing.

That was it.

Stopping in the middle of the street only a few feet away from the entrance to Rita's, I barely kept myself from wincing as I leaned forward, trying to balance on one foot as I started unlacing the straps of my heels. They were murderously high, and, together with the cobblestone streets and the drinks I had, that meant mortal danger for my ankles and my dignity.

Plus, they were beginning to hurt like shi-

I almost lost my balance, feeling myself tip to the side and my eyes widening. But then a hand slipped under my arm and steadied me, and my breath hitched a little when my gaze darted up.

Azriel raised a brow at me.

“Oh, shut up,”, I grumbled quickly under my breath, trying to ignore the soft skip in my chest at the way his amber eyes were twinkling almost indiscernably as I slipped out of the first heel.

Groaning happily in relief as I rolled my ankle, I carefully placed my foot on the cold ground, trying not to wince at the ache jolting through it when I shifted my weight onto it.

Azriel kept his hand under my arm, his scarred skin warm in the cool night air, even as I balanced a lot easier, undoing the laces of the second heel.

Slipping out of it, I straightened, breathing out and trying not to squirm at the soreness of my feet when I shifted on the cold cobblestone. Then I raised my head, and my heart skipped softly.

Az was still staring down at me, brows drawn together a little as he narrowed his eyes at me.

I frowned back at him suspiciously. “What?”

Azriel huffed, but his lips twitched upwards as he shook his head and stepped forward, and I felt my eyes widen when he leaned down.

“No, wait –“

The shadowsinger slipped his arms under my thighs and lower back, and a soft squeal broke from my lips when he straightened back up, easily sweeping me off my feet.

My hands gripped his back, and my heart jumped into my throat when Azriel hoisted me up a little to adjust his grip, the motion causing me to slide up and down in his arms. I hastily clung to him and stared at him desperately.

“Are you serious?”

Azriel's eyes were twinkling a little when he threw me a look. “You looked like you were going to hobble the way home.”

I huffed, scowling at him, but it probably looked more like a pout, because the shadow of a crease formed in Azriel's cheek. Then he raised a brow at me.

“All set?”

Grumbling softly under my breath, I leaned forward a little to gather my shoes in one hand. Azriel changed his grip to hold me steady, his breath brushing over my temple, causing something to flutter gently against my throat, and I tried to ignore the sudden dip in my chest.

Wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, I pressed my forehead against his collarbone and squeezed my eyes shut.

“Alright, ready.”

There was a soft, amused huff that made Azriel's body vibrate. Then he started moving, setting down the street, every long, steady step sending a soft jolt through my body.

I blinked before cracking open an eye and furrowing my brows in confusion.

“We're walking?”

From my position, I saw only one side of Azriel's face as he looked ahead, but there was a curve to his lips that caused something to swerve sharply in my chest when he threw me a look.

“Unless you want to almost throw up again.”

I raised my head quickly to glower at him.

“That was one time."

"I wasn't actually aware anyone could turn that shade of green before you did." One corner of Azriel's lips tipped upwards.

I scowled at him. "Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

Azriel still looked ahead, but I saw the crease in his cheek deepening.

“Unlikely.”

I scowled, trying to bite back the stupidly wide smile that was suddenly threatening to break out over my face as I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don't like you.”

“I know. You want to hold on any tighter?”

I lightly bonked one of my shoes against the side of his head and earned myself a glare.

Breathing a soft giggle that bubbled in my chest, I exhaled, slowly melting into Azriel's hold as I loosely draped one arm over his collarbones and propped my chin onto his shoulder. Staring at his profile, I felt something flutter softly against my ribs, my heart skipping steadily as my eyes tracked over his straight nose, the sharp line of his jaw illuminated by the warm light of the lanterns and his soft looking lips.

The shadowsinger threw me a look, and I could see the amusement flashing through in his eyes.

“What?”

I shrugged.

“You're pretty.” I sent him a bright, cheeky smile.

Azriel blinked, and it almost looked like the top of his cheekbones started to darken a little, like the lightest shade of pink dusted his skin –

One corner of my lips slowly quirked as I softly narrowed my eyes.

“Are you blushing?” I started to grin widely. “Azriel, are you –“

The shadowsinger's grip shifted, and I squealed softly when I could feel myself being dropped for nothing more than a heartbeat.

Hastily clinging to his shoulders, I raised my head to glare at Azriel incredulously only to find him smirking, just the tiniest bit.

I huffed, something flutter harshly against my ribs as I scowled at the shadowsinger.

“I really don't like you."

no. 4: friends spend quality time together.

Diving, I avoided a swing of Azriel's wing, sliding over the mats and raising my head.

My heart skipped high, and I barely ducked out of the way, Azriel's wings almost translucent in the light of the sinking sun when he flared them to keep his balance, shadows whirling around him as he dodged a blow, a strand of dark hair falling into his forehead, muscles working under his sweaty, glowing skin -

Something caught against the back of my heel and ripped me off my feet.

My back hit the mats with a thud, and all the air was pressed out of my lungs, causing me to grunt softly. My heart skipped in its race against my ribs, and I relaxed into the mats with a huff, scowling when Azriel appeared above me, lips curving upwards as he squinted down at me, barely out of breath.

"Didn't we just talk about never letting your guard down?"

Huffing, I rolled my eyes, feeling a bead of sweat run over my temple and how my hair stuck to my skin when I just laid flat on the mats for a second before holding out my hand with a grumble.

The second Azriel's fingers closed firmly around my wrist, I pulled, my foot catching against his chest and using his own momentum to send him flying over my head.

The shadowsinger crashed onto his back with a heavy thud and a grunt, and I whirled around, using his hand to pull myself up and onto his torso, thighs clamping down next to his hips and my whole weight pressing down onto his chest as I pinned his wrists onto the mats right above his head and smiled widely.

But my remark along the lines of Right back at you, pretty boy got stuck in my throat.

Azriel's eyes were barely an inch away. I could count the golden spots in his amber iris, the dark lashes framing his eyes under dark brows between which a little crease sat that smoothed over slowly. I could feel his breath, warm and a little uneven as it brushed over my skin, could feel the steadiness of his piercing eyes as they stared into mine and how solid his bare chest was, pressed against mine.

My heart fluttered wildly; I hastily moved back a little, and suddenly, something in Azriel's eyes shifted, his body going still beneath mine.

I needed a second until I realised why; why suddenly, Azriel's gaze burning into mine looked different, why he had tensed and his lips were standing just a little agape. But then I shifted again, and Azriel grunted softly, his hips twitching.

Right under my ass.

My breath caught in my throat, my eyes widened a little, and I grew still, staring down at the male pinned onto the mats who had suddenly frozen beneath me as my heart thumped in my throat and something twinged tightly in my lower stomach.

"Sorry,", I whispered, my voice soft and a little breathy, and a spark flashed through Azriel's eyes.

The next second, I was pushed to the side, all the air escaping my lungs when I crashed onto my back again, and my heart simply gave out when my body was pressed into the mats, hips lodged between my thighs keeping me down and Azriel's face only an inch away, dark hair falling down onto his forehead as his eyes twinkled and one corner of his lips rose.

"Got you."

I blinked, something pounding and fluttering harshly against my ribs as my breath hitched and I stared up into Azriel's golden amber eyes, his lips curving and fingers loosely wrapped around my wrists, just lightly holding them to the ground next to my head as shadows whispered, slowly swirling over his flared wings. Then Azriel's lips twitched, and his hands slipped away, pressing into the mats as he pushed himself up and his weight disappeared.

I stared up at the soft blue sky high above, the first stars twinkling down at me while my heart was skipping, missing beats in my chest until Azriel offered me a hand, the twinkle still in his eyes causing me to huff.

no. 5: friends are comfortable with each other (but not overly).

Grumbling softly, I buried deeper in the cushions. There was a heavy weight resting on my waist, and something warm pressed into my back, a body, tall and solid, wrapped around me. A familiar scent surrounded me like a blanket, engulfing me and filling my lungs, and something started to flutter softly against my ribs when I tiredly cracked open an eye.

My sight was blurry with sleep as my gaze slowly tracked over the coffee table and the open doors leading into the garden, the sun already sinking and dipping everything in a golden light -

My heart jumped softly when the tall body curved around mine shifted, the arm closed around my waist tightening, and my gaze slowly focused on the hand wrapped around my wrist, laying on the cushion of the couch right in front of my face.

My mind was still tired and foggy with sleep as from under half-closed lids, my gaze dragged over the long, slim fingers, a palm far bigger than my own, veins running up a tanned forearm and the marred skin, scarred tissue rough but warm against my skin.

A soft, tired sound vibrated through my body, the thighs lodged between my calves shifting. Then I felt warm breath brush over my skin, and as I shivered softly, Azriel buried his nose at the back of my neck and grumbled lightly. Something skipped high in my chest at the deepness of the sound, how raspy it was.

There was a soft tap against my mental shields, and with a huff, I let them down.

"Please don't tell me you two are still napping."

Rhys' amused voice vibrating through my head made me grumble softly into the cushions, and from the way Azriel's lips curved upwards as he huffed softly against my neck, sending another shiver down my spine, the same question had sounded through his mind as well.

"Weren't you the one who told me that with less than ten hours of sleep, I get unbearably grumpy?", I thought.

There was a light snicker in my mind. Then Azriel growled softly. I didn't know what Rhys had said to him, but it made his grip tighten as he scowled into my neck.

There was one last chuckle in my head followed by a gentle sensation resembling a friendly headbutt before the familiar presence disappeared, leaving everything quiet again.

Breathing out, I squinted tiredly, the haze of sleep slowly dissipating.

Shifting on the spot, I started to wrestle myself around. Azriel grunted softly when I accidentally kicked his shin, and a breathy, sleepy giggle broke from my throat, then I buried myself in his chest. Exhaling, I felt Azriel slide his arm around my waist, his hand coming up to tuck my head under his chin. His fingers slipped into my hair, scratching gently over my scalp, and I groaned happily, causing the shadowsinger to huff in amusement.

His thumb lightly brushed over my cheek, and something skipped gently against my ribs, fluttering lightly.

no. 6: friends don't stare at each other (for too long).

Moving down the stairs, I slipped my fingers under one of the thin straps of the black silk dress softly swishing around my legs, pulling it up my shoulder. I could feel the hilts of my knives gently pressing against my thigh where they were tucked into the legs of my boots, the heavy heels thumping softly against the steps as the golden earrings Mor had lent me clinked softly. The heavy black leather coat Cass had gifted me a few years ago was draped over my arm, daggers hidden in the specially constructed lining.

It was time to charme some people. Maybe kick some ass.

Hopefully the latter.

Turning to walk down the last pair of stairs into the entrance hall, I grinned when Feyre tapped against my mind's walls, and when I let her in, her voice echoed through my head.

"Are you ready?"

Ready as ever.

"Alright, we'll be there and pick you up in a second."

Good. Feeling my lips quirk when I heard her chuckle, I raised my head.

My eyes met amber ones, and my breath hitched a little, my movement faltering for just a second.

Azriel stilled. Went completely quiet, head turned back to look up at me, eyes flickering over me, and his lips parted. Just a bit, nothing more than a little gap as his gaze slowly dragged down and up again, and he blinked, the crease between his brows smoothing over into nothing as he simply - stared.

"What?", I mumbled, feeling my lips curve into a soft, sheepish smile as I moved down the last steps.

Azriel blinked again, gaze sliding over me, and something shifted in his eyes, something I couldn't decipher but that made my breath hitch.

My gaze flickered over him, and there was a strange little hop in my chest. He was wearing his fighting leathers, nothing unusual, black shoulderplates making him look even broader, daggers strapped around his lean torso and onto his thighs.

Tearing my eyes away from his chest, I tried to ignore the way my heart performed a double flip when I found Azriel's gaze still pinned onto me, piercing my skin.

The shadowsinger blinked, and his throat worked a little like he was suppressing the urge to swallow. Then he slowly turned and stepped towards me. Wordlessly, he held out a hand, and I needed a second before realising what he wanted.

Huffing at myself and cracking a grin, I handed him my coat, and Azriel unfolded it, holding it open for me to slide into the sleeves. The lining was cool against my skin as Az slipped it over my shoulders, and I barely suppressed a soft shudder when his fingers, still out of his gloves, brushed against my neck, carefully pulling my braid out from under the heavy leather.

Turning around, I straightened the lapels and raised my head, and my heart fluttered up, getting caught in my throat like my breath when Azriel reached out.

His fingers brushed against my waist as he pushed the coat to the side, and a small crease formed between his brows when his hand ghosted over an empty sheath. He straightened a little, and my lips parted, something suddenly rising in my chest when he pulled a dagger from one of the sheaths strapped to his chest.

The silver blade flashed in the warm light when Azriel carefully pulled my coat to the side and slid it into the lining. Then his fingers brushed over the hilts concealed by the black silk, checking every single one of them as my heart thrummed into my throat and I stared up at him, his face a lot closer with his head dipped for a better view of the lining, brows drawn together in concentration, amber eyes clear and focused.

Sliding his hand against my waist to check the other side, Azriel raised his head; his gaze found mine, and my breath hitched when he slowly straightened back up a little.

With a soft swoosh of air, Feyre appeared in the middle of the foyer, and somehow, I managed to tear my gaze away from Azriel's to look over at her. She was wearing a silky dress similiar to mine, dark like the night sky and with high slits very practical for any sort of well-placed kick.

Feyre stilled for just a second as her eyes flickered over Azriel, standing so close to me that his chest almost touched mine and yet not making any move to step back, before finding mine, and something like a light twinkle flashed through her iris. Then she blinked and raised her brows.

"You two ready?"

Blinking, I looked back up at Az, and my breath hitched.

The shadowsinger was still staring down at me. I wasn't sure he had even looked when Feyre had winnowed in, and he didn't react when Mor appeared next to her either, wearing a dark red dress with a deep neckline. Both of them looked ready to smile charmingly and, if necessary, press a knife to someone's throat, but Azriel didn't even cast them a glance.

His eyes were on me, and suddenly, it felt a little hard to breathe.

Azriel's gaze cleared just a little, and he shifted, shoulders straightening.

"Give me a sign if you need me." I knew his deep voice was directed at the other two as well, but his eyes didn't stray away from mine, waiting until I nodded lightly. Then he took a step back, and shadows swallowed him.

Feyre cleared her throat lightly, and when I looked over at her with a blink, one corner of her lips had curved upwards, her iris twinkling. But she just raised her brows, and Mor held out her hand, her eyes bright as she beamed at me.

Staring at the two of them for a moment in confusion, I then blinked and shook my head lightly, moving towards them. Mor sent me a wink.

"You look hot."

I nodded. "As opposed to how I usually look."

Feyre lightly rolled her eyes and Mor flicked my forehead, and snickering, I took her offered hand.

no. 7: friends don't kiss.

Closing the bathroom door behind me, I raised my head, and my heart skipped softly against my ribs when Azriel raised his head.

He was sitting on the edge of my mattress, wearing only soft looking pyjama pants, his hair tousled and a little damp, like he had taken a shower earlier.

Sending him a soft, cheeky grin, I felt my brows furrow gentle. "Hey."

Azriel's eyes tracked down my body, over the large soft sweater and the too big pyjama pants that both had probably belonged to him at some point, and I shifted a little on the spot. Then his gaze turned back towards my face, and one corner of his lips rose into a small, crooked smile.

Slowly starting to walk towards him, I let my gaze flicker over his face, feeling the curious crease between my brows deepen.

"What are you doing here?"

Azriel blinked. His eyes tracked over my face, slow, a little tired but warm in the soft light.

"Just -" He broke off before huffing and shaking his head. "I don't know. Can't sleep."

I felt my lips curve and sent him a cheeky smile. "I could read something to you."

Azriel's lips curved, and his gaze moved over mine. "I doubt that would help."

"Hey, my reading skills aren't that bad, alright?" I grinned.

Azriel raised his brows, and I lost the fight against the soft giggle building in my throat.

"Oh, shut up."

The shadowsinger's cheek creased a little. He was still staring at me, and I caught something shifting in his eyes as a muscle in his jaw tightened and relaxed again.

Something shifted in my chest, and before I could stop myself, I quickly moved forward and hugged him tightly.

I could feel Azriel freeze a little. One second. Two. Then his shoulders sagged a bit, and his arms slowly slid around my waist, squeezing lightly. It was funny, like this; with him sitting on the edge of the mattress, the size different was reversed for once, me dropping my head to press my nose against his shoulder and Az burying his face at my collarbone.

Holding onto him for another second, I slowly moved back, feeling my lips curve softly. Azriel's arms slipped off my waist, and his muscles shifted when he turned his head. Then he went still, and when I looked up in confusion, my breath hitched.

Golden eyes stared into mine, lips parted just a bit. I could see the shadow of a few freckles on a straight nose, the softness of his lips. And suddenly, my heart was quiet.

The tip of my nose softly nudged against Azriel's, and his eyes fluttered, the muscles in his jaw working as his fingers dug into the cotton of my pants. Then he lightly raised his chin, and his nose brushed past mine again, causing a tingling shiver to travel over my skin, down my spine and into my fingers, making them tremble as I curled them into his shoulders.

I didn't know if I leaned down or Azriel up.

Didn't know if my hand slipping to the back of his neck was first, or his fingers closing around my hips, dragging me forward a little.

All I knew was that his lips were warm and soft and that they were pressed against mine, gentle but soon almost a little feverish.

That his breath was harsh, trembling when he exhaled against my skin.

And that suddenly, my heart wasn't quiet anymore. That it was rising in my chest like a storm, fluttering more violently with every second until breathing was difficult.

Slowly, Azriel broke away, just far enough for his nose to bump against mine again and his unsteady breath to hit my lips. When I forced open my eyes, something flipped against my ribs, because his were still closed, his chest moving quickly as his finger dug into my hips and he swallowed harshly. Then Azriel opened his eyes, and all air I had managed to get left me. Because the gold in his iris was melting together and his lids were heavy and for a moment, he looked a little bit like he wasn't quite there. But then our noses brushed and his lids fluttered and a soft sound broke from his chest that made the world tip over.

"You -" His deep voice sent a shiver down my spine, uneven and more hoarse than I had ever heard it, and Azriel's jaw worked, brows drawing together like he was forcing himself to focus as his eyes found mine, something in them that was strange and pleading and burning when he mumbled raspily: "If you let me kiss you again, I won't be able stop."

My heart skipped once and high and harsh. Then I whispered, soft and a little shakily: "I don't think I want you to stop."

Azriel's cheek muscles shifted and he shuddered, like the thought alone -

His fingers dug into my hips, tugging me closer as he pressed his forehead against mine and mumbled roughly: "If you kiss me again -"

I leaned forward and kissed him breathlessly, and Azriel's grip slipped before tightening as a deep rumble built in his throat and he pushed forward and kissed me back like he'd been waiting for centuries.

no. 8: friends never, ever, under no circumstances - well, you can probably guess where this is going.

My breath tumbled when Azriel dragged me closer, closer until my body curved into his sitting one and he kissed me like it was the only thing keeping him alive, deep and desperate and causing my heart to tip over in my chest when his tongue dragged over mine and his hand slipped under my soft sweater.

A soft shuddering breath left me when his rough fingers ghosted over my back, trailing up my spine, and my fingers curled into his hair, causing a deep sound to rumble through Azriel's body. His other hand closed firmly around my hips, then he pulled back, and my heart skipped into my throat at the sight of his eyes, glazed over and hazy.

Azriel's lips parted just a little and his throat worked when he slid his hand from my back to my front, fingers pushing up the hem of my sweater, up until it was bunched up under my breasts, and my spine turned to jelly when Azriel turned his burning gaze away from my face and dropped his head to press a slow, open-mouthed kiss against my ribs.

My hand flew up to tangle in the soft hair at the back of his head, my eyes fluttering, and Azriel groaned softly, deep in his throat as his hand slipped up to press against my back, pushing me into him until my thighs were pressed against the inside of his and he leaned forward, lips dragging over my skin as he began to trail hot kisses over my stomach.

My head fell back as something rose in my chest, wild and madly fluttering. My lower stomach tightened, quivering, causing my breath to hitch.

It felt like with every kiss, Azriel pulled the floor out from under me, over and over again, the whole world swaying around me whenever he got closer to where my sweater was bunched up under my breasts, my fingers digging into his hair when he dipped down again.

It seemed like he was trying to taste every inch of my skin, breath heavy and uneven, grip tightening around me when his teeth grazed over the skin right under the seam of my bra, and I whimpered.

A small, guttural sound built in Azriel's chest, and he attacked the spot, dragging my body into his, kissing and biting until I could feel my skin pulse. My eyes fluttered as my head tipped back a little and my lips parted, and the shadowsinger pressed a scarred hand flat against my spine, running his nose over the bruise like a breathless apology. Then he raised his head, and my heart skipped, tipping over at the sight of his hazy eyes, amber iris clouded, lids heavy and soft lips swollen.

A strand of dark hair fell into his forehead, and the way he was staring at me caused my breath to stumble, hitch and flutter, his throat working as he swallowed and tugged me forward, slowly pulling me with him as he leaned back, and my heart tipped over in my chest when he dragged me down into his lap.

I could feel Azriel's grip shift, saw the flutter of his lids as my chest pressed into his, and everything under my ribs coiled when his hot, unsteady breath brushed over my lips, his nose softly nudging against mine.

My fingers curled into his shoulders as I tried to breathe, even though it felt impossible with his scent invading my senses, his chest against mine and his arm heavy on my waist as his palm pressed against my back, gently urging me forward.

My hips rolled down, and Azriel's lids fluttered the same second my lips fell open as I felt his hard cock press against me, his hands slipping down to close around my hips, and I almost expected him to push me away, bring distance between us -

Azriel dragged my hips forward, and I inhaled softly, sharply, something hot zipping through my lower stomach and pulsing when I ground down against the bulge in Azriel's pants. His lips were parted just a bit, his breathing harsh as his nose nudged against mine, lids heavy. Then his grip around my hips tightened, fingers digging into my skin, and my breath hitched and stumbled when he started guiding my movements, his eyes fixed onto my face like they were burning through me, hazy but piercing.

I barely bit back a soft whimper when Azriel's hot, unsteady breath grazed over my lips, my fingers digging into his hair as I rocked against him, tantalizingly but deliciously slow. Azriel's nose brushed over mine, his hands shifting on my hips, rocking me down harder, and something twisted harshly in my stomach, a wave of heat washing over me.

Before I could stop myself, I pulled him towards me, and Azriel's lips crashed onto mine.

My heart rose into my throat, fluttering as I felt myself twist around nothing, and I whimpered, curling my fingers into the back of Azriel's neck when he kissed me like I was his last breath, devouring, desperate. His tongue slid against mine as his hands slipped under my sweater, curving around my waist, and something swelled in my chest when his rough warm skin pressed against mine, his thumb brushing over my ribs, up against the underside of my breast.

I moaned softly into his mouth, causing his grip to tighten and drag me closer like I wasn't already pressed flush into his chest. His hands closed around the hem of my sweater and pulled it up, up until I had to break away for him to tug it over my head. My arms slipped back over his shoulders, and Azriel leaned forward, into me, kissing me again, deep and hard as he threw my sweater carelessly into the room.

My fingers dug into Azriel's shoulders when his hands slipped under my thighs. Then he lifted me up, turning to place my back on the mattress, his warm, solid body between my legs pushing my knees apart and causing something in my chest to rise and flutter madly, and a soft groan broke from his chest when his body pressed down into mine.

My fingers curled into his hair, and Azriel broke the kiss to drop his head, his hand sliding to the nape of my neck, tangling in my hair and dragging my head back as he began to press hard kisses against my throat, his heavy, uneven breath hitting my skin as his teeth grazed over my skin. A whimper fled my throat, and my eyes rolled back lightly.

A deep, rough sound rumbled through Azriel´s chest, and his lips brushed lower, kisses growing more deep, more desperate the lower his rough hands slipped on my sides as he slowly made his way down my torso. My body arched into him as he breathed harshly, kissing and nipping at my skin as he pulled down my pants. Then his nose grazed the rim of my panties, and my head fell back as my insides twitched and Azriel groaned deep in his chest.

His hot, harsh breath brushed over the soaked material, and his nose nuzzled against my hip like he was trying to reign himself in, the tension in his shoulders looking unbearable as his lips ghosted over where my thigh and middle met. Then Azriel's fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties and pulled them down, and a soft groan left him, almost desperate.

Raising my hips to help him shimmy the material down my legs, I expected him to move back up my body. But Azriel didn't. His shoulders pushed my thighs apart, and my heart stilled, simply stopped when without hesitation, Azriel sank to his knees.

My breath caught when his hands closed around my hips and dragged me towards him, and a whimpering sound left me when I felt his nose gently nudge against my skin, an ache spreading through my lower stomach like a weight.

My hips bucked, my fingers digging into the sheets, and with a soft rumbling sound leaving him, Azriel pushed one of my legs over his shoulder and dipped his head.

My lips fell open, my heart stilled, and my whole body became weightless when Azriel slowly ran his tongue through my folds. My eyes flew down, finding his, heavily lidded and hazy, a strand of dark hair falling into his face between my legs, and a deep groan rumbled deep in his chest. Then he dropped his head and dove in.

My head fell back against the mattress, and my back arched.

Azriel moved like a male starving, devouring his last meal. His warm tongue lapped at me, running over my clit, pressing down and flicking before his mouth closed over it, and my eyes rolled into my head as breathless moans spilled from my lips.

Azriel's fingers dug into the top of my thigh, his other hand slipping up to press onto my stomach as his eyes fluttered and a moan vibrated in his chest. He sounded more enthusiastic than I had ever heard him; like right where he was, settled between my legs, his nose brushing over my skin as he dipped his head to lap and suck at me eagerly, was exactly, precisely where he had always wanted to be –

His tongue flicked over my clit, and my hand flew up to press over my mouth as a loud whimper broke from my lips. But Azriel's fingers slipped around my elbow, and something flipped in my chest, rising and fluttering violently when he gently tugged my hand away from my mouth, his own sliding down my arm until his rough, scarred fingers slid between mine, lacing them together as his eyes pierced my face, clouded and lids heavy like he wasn't quite there. Then he ran his tongue firmly over my clit, and I moaned, breathily and drawn as I curled my fingers into the sheets above my head.

The weight in my stomach grew slowly, twisting tighter and tighter, and my back arched as a deep groan left Azriel, like what he was doing right now, fingers laced with mine, eyes hazy and hair dishevelled, was the best satisfaction I could give him. The muscles in his cheeks worked as he sucked eagerly on my clit, pressing his tongue against the sensitive spot, eyes never leaving my face even as they fluttered, and I felt my lips part at the sight of him.

My fingers dug into the sheets as I could feel myself pulse around nothing, the pressure in my lower stomach slowly building as whimpers left me and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as whispered curses broke from my lips and my breath heaved, and Azriel's hum vibrated through me. Then his tongue ran over my clit and he sucked, hard, obscene sounds filling the room as he kept pushing and pushing –

The knot in my stomach collapsed and my back arched off the mattress, hips bucking as waves of pleasure crashed over me, my insides twisting and exploding like stars and loud whining sounds breaking from my lips as my eyes rolled back.

I felt Azriel's soft moan more than I heard it, sending vibrations through my body and causing my hand to fly down and dig into his hair. My hips jerked and rolled as my thighs twitched, sharp twinges of pleasure causing my whole body to spasm, but Azriel didn't stop. His tongue lapped at everything he could get, eyes fluttering as another groan rumbled through his body, making me whimper, and he moved, fingers digging into my thigh, keeping it wrapped over his shoulder as he pushed closer, sucking harshly, tongue swirling, and I could feel my stomach twist and turn as another knot built, even tighter and bigger than before.

My mouth fell open, my head pressing into the mattress; Azriel gave a soft sound, maybe an encouragement or a plea, and the world simply slipped away, bursting into a million pieces as the knot exploded, crashing down into a wave so violent, my body shuddered.

My insides tightened, tightened with pleasure so blinding, I couldn't breathe, no sound leaving me as I twitched and writhed, and Azriel kept going, kept sucking my clit into his mouth, tongue pressing against it and flicking over me until my trembling fingers curled deeper into his hair, because it was too much, too good, too much -

My insides twisted, twitching as my knees shook and a breathless whimper left me, and I dug my nails into Azriel's scalp and tugged, tugged harshly until with a soft rumbled growl, the shadowsinger pulled away.

My heart missed a beat, another.

Azriel's pupils were blown, eyes heavily lidded and a little far away when he raised his head, licking his swollen lips. His mouth and chin were glistening as he slid his hands off my thighs, and my breath hitched.

The bed dipped when Azriel pushed himself to his feet to move up my body, his arms pressing down next to my head, his bare chest brushing over mine and his knee pressing into the mattress between my thighs. His nose softly nudged against mine, like a silent question of you alright, and something tipped over in my chest, rising and fluttering.

Quickly, I slipped my hands into his hair and pulled him down, and Azriel groaned softly when I pressed my lips feverishly against his. His body sank into mine when he kissed back, deep and desperate.

My heart skipped against my ribs, and I wrapped a leg over his back, because he still wasn't close enough, not where my middle was pulsing -

The shadowsinger went rigid under my touch when I dragged him down, down until his whole body pressed into mine and I could feel -

Azriel caught my hand, grip tight around my fingers as he breathed heavily, his voice hoarse as he mumbled against my lips: "Are you sure -"

A moan slipped past my lips, soft and pleading as my insides turned, something hot washing over me as I nodded into the kiss, maybe a bit too frantic, too eager, but it didn't matter, not with the groan leaving Azriel's throat, rumbling through his body in what felt like pure relief and desperation.

I tugged at his pants, feeling them slip down his hips and over his legs as Azriel pushed my thighs apart. His lips dragged over mine, then I could feel the tip of his cock nudging against my folds.

My breath gave out, an ache spreading through my body as I whimpered, and Azriel's jaw shifted as he moved in the spot, trying to find an angle with him kneeling on the side of the mattress -

A soft, impatient sound left him; his hands slipped under my backside, and Az lifted me up.

My breath hitched, my arms quickly sliding over his shoulders when Azriel straightened, lips crashing against mine as my chest pressed into his, and I moaned when I could feel him rub up against me as he turned around.

My back hit the wall, and I whimpered, Azriel's tongue dragging over mine as he pushed closer, dragging my thigh up his side as his tip brushed through my folds, way easier like this for him to -

My heart got caught in my throat. My lips fell open, and my heart rose into my throat as I felt myself stretch around Azriel's cock, his hard length pressing at my walls he slowly began to push in.

Azriel dropped his forehead against mine with a strained grunt, his back muscles flexing as my fingers dug into the back of his shoulders, harsh breath hitting my skin as he slowly began to work his way in.

Whimpering softly, I shifted my hips, because he was big and I felt too tight and -

My eyes fluttered, a quiet sound leaving me when my walls closed around him, pulling him in, and Azriel's grip tightened when his hips settled against mine. His hand pressed against the wall over my head he breathed heavily against my lips, nose nudging against mine, and I whimpered, tugging him closer.

A soft groan left Azriel, and his hand slid down to the side of my neck, tilting my head back to kiss me. It was messy and breathless and I whimpered when his tongue slid against mine, his teeth sinking softly into my bottom lip and pulling lightly. His nose nudged against mine, then Azriel slipped his hand down to grip the back of my thigh, pulling it higher up his side, and I felt my lips part when it caused him to slide inside of me.

Azriel pressed his forehead against mine, out of breath as his throat worked, and I curled my fingers into his hair, nodding frantically as my insides tightened, and my head tipped back against the wall when Az slowly pulled out. Then he thrusted back in, and my lips fell open.

Slowly, little by little, Azriel took me apart. His lips dragging over my throat, heavy breaths hitting my skin, hot and ragged, his fingers digging into my thighs as his slow, deep rhythm shook me to my very core.

With every thrust, the world seemed to tip a little more, until there was nothing anymore, nothing but him, body rocking mine into the wall, his cock hitting deeper with every thrust. His arm gripped me tighter, then his hand tugged down one strap of my soft bra and his palm closed over my breast, causing a whimper to break from my lips that turned into a moan when Azriel's lips latched onto my nipple, a groan rumbling deep in his throat when he bit and sucked on my skin, rough palm squeezing and tugging at my breast until my insides tightened around him, squeezing as I shuddered and dug my fingers into his hair, dragging him back up, and Azriel moaned hoarsely into my mouth as our lips crashed together.

His hips snapped forward, and my hand flew out to grip the mantlepiece as my own rolled down to meet his next thrust.

Azriel's shoulders trembled as his fingers almost slipped off my thighs, and a sound left him that caused my chest to rise when his cock hit a spot so deep inside of me, I lost my breath. Lost my grip, felt my stomach pulse, and Azriel groaned against my lips when I dug my fingers into his neck and started meeting his hard, slowly quickening thrusts.

My lips fell open, my eyes fluttering as little by little, that familiar tightness began to form in my lower stomach. Only it felt even brighter, hotter and more pulsing than before, with Azriel buried deep inside me, hitting that spot that made my body writhe with every hard snap of his hips. I knew he could feel it too, the way my insides wound tighter with every thrust, fluttering and pulling him in, his grip bruising as he breathed harshly against my neck, deep, hoarse sounds leaving him somewhere halfway between moans and whimpers, and maybe those sounds alone would have done me in. But then his nose dragged up my cheek, and Azriel pressed his forehead against mine as my fingers scratched over his scalp, his ragged breath hitting my lips as his lids fluttered over his eyes that looked like melted amber.

His hand slipped between us, and my breath caught. Simply stopped when Azriel's rough thumb brushed over my clit, slow and hard, and the world fell apart. Became exploding galaxies and stardust as waves of pleasure crashed over me so intensely, I felt my body tremble and shake beyond measure, my eyes rolling back as my sight went blurry, and Azriel's thrusts faltered. His hips snapped once, twice before pushing in deep, then his head fell forward and lips opened soundlessly as his body shuddered.

no. 9: friends don't fall in love with each other.

When I woke up, Azriel was gone.

Something tightened a little in my chest, and I quickly sat up, my gaze moving over my clothes haphazardly strewn over the floor, the crinkled sheets and the window behind which, the sky was still a deep black, with galaxies twinkling in the far, far distance.

I couldn't have been asleep for long.

A little bit of pressure built in my throat, a gentle ache forming in my chest, and I quickly slipped off the mattress, picking up my sweater and tugging it over my head as I padded towards the door.

The townhouse was submerged in peaceful silence, the moon shining through the windows onto the stairs the only source of light as I soundlessly moved down the steps.

On the third floor, there was faint light shimmering out from under the door to the library, and my breath got caught in my throat.

Swallowing softly, I carefully opened the door and slipped through. Gently closing it behind me, I started to quietly move past the shelves until I caught movement over at the window, and my heart did a flip against my ribs when I came to a slow halt.

Azriel was with his back to me, slowly wandering from side to side, his bare feet making no sound on the hardwood floors, his shoulders tense, wings shifting and muscles working under his skin as he ran his hands through his hair. Shadows were pooling around his feet, completely quiet for once, just gently brushing against his ankles when he leaned forward, pressing his palms onto the window sill and dropping his head.

Something tightened a little in my chest, and I pulled up my shoulders, whispering softly and a bit hesitantly: "Az?"

Azriel stilled for a moment. Then he looked over his shoulder, and his eyes found mine, amber in the warmth of the fae lights.

I tried to fight against the soft skip in my chest and stared at him.

Azriel blinked before straightening slowly, his deep voice sending rushs of soft tingles down my spine when he mumbled: "Are you okay?"

I nodded, feeling one corner of my lips rise carefully as I fiddled with my sleeve and my eyes flickered back and forth between his.

"You?"

Azriel's gaze wandered over my face as he slowly turned to look at me, eyes moving over mine, almost like he was looking for something. Then he nodded lightly.

Feeling the curve of my lips deepen, I shifted a little on the spot, mumbling softly: "You don't look like it."

Azriel blinked again, and his throat worked a little, something shifting in his jaw. The tightness in my chest grew a little as I stared at him, feeling my throat close up.

I knew that look, knew how it meant he was in his head.

"Th-this doesn't have to change anything." I quickly shook my head, taking a step forward as I stared at him. "We can just forget about it, if you -" My eyes darted over his face, something tightened sharply in my chest, and I blurted hastily: "I'll get over it; I can push it away, I mean I think I have for centuries, I can pretend, and it'll go away, and we'll just -"

I broke off, my eyes darted up, and my heart did one mighty flip.

Because I had just realised what in my hurry to make Azriel's doubt go away had slipped from my lips.

And because Azriel had straightened. His lips parted as his eyes rushed over my face, and I barely suppressed the urge to swallow.

Shit.

"What?" Azriel's voice was hoarse as he stared at me, and I nearly winced.

"I don't know;", my voice rose to a panicked, high tone as I widened my eyes and quickly raised my shoulders, "you looked so in your head, and I know we messed up, but I can't lose you, and if you think this was a mistake or you don't like me like that, I -"

The shadowsinger stared at me, and suddenly, his eyes brightened. Started to shine like amber held into the sun, and his shoulders sank like the tension of centuries had flooded from his body. His lips parted a little more as he stared at me, and suddenly, the shadow of a crease formed in his cheek.

"Push what away?"

Something started rising in my chest, fluttering wildly as Azriel's eyes pierced mine and the golden spots in his iris started to dance.

Azriel stared at me. Then he began to slowly walk towards me, iris bright and twinkling. My heart tipped and tilted, and I swallowed, my gaze darting around the room.

Rough fingers gently closed around my chin, and my breath got caught in my throat, simply stopping when Azriel mumbled: "No, no, come on, sweetheart." His thumb and forefinger gently forced me to look up, up until I met his eyes flickering over my face, his deep voice tickling my spine and something shifting through his gaze, careful, anxious, when he said softly: "Push what away?"

I felt my lips open, my heart pounding harshly against my ribs, and my brows arched on their own accord.

"Oh, come on; really?" My voice rose desperately, and in any other situation, it would have been hilarious.

"What do you want to hear; that kissing you made the fucking world stop? That you probably ruined me for every godsdamned male out there, because there's no way anyone could ever make me feel that way again? That I was too stupid to realise I've fallen for my best friend like a complete idiot, even though you make my heart beat out of my chest everytime you just look at me? That you're everything? Tha-"

Azriel leaned down, and the world tipped off its axis when he kissed me, his hand slipping to the nape of my neck to tug me closer, fingers tangling in my hair. Then he started to smile against my lips, slow and wide, and my breath caught when he dipped forward and kissed me deeper.

Digging my fingers into his sides, I tried to keep my heart from fluttering out of my chest as something rose so violently under my ribs, a soft sound broke from my throat when Azriel's tongue slid against mine, and a slightly shaking exhale left him.

Gently brushing his thumbs over the side of my neck, Azriel slowly pulled away, his nose nudging against mine when he mumbled roughly against my lips: "If it makes you feel any better, you definitely ruined me for everyone I'll ever meet."

A trembling breath left me, and I pulled my head back to stare up at Azriel, that flutter in my chest growing when I saw the light in his eyes when he stared back down at me.

"You -" My voice gave out, and one corner of Azriel's lips quirked a little.

"I?" His voice was a little hoarse as his eyes tracked over mine, and he swallowed softly. "Am in love with you."

My breath caught in my throat.

Azriel's eyes moved over my face, and I could feel a gentle exhale leaving him as his hands pulled me closer until I gently bumped into his chest and he dropped his head, staring at me, looking like he was trying not to swallow as he mumbled lowly: "I've loved you for as long as I can remember. And I'll probably still love you when we're nothing but dust under the sky. The only reason I didn't tell you sooner was that I was scared to lose you if you didn't feel the same."

I breathed out and closed my eyes as my heart rose in a wild flutter and a warm thrum built in my chest as my lips started to curve into a ridiculously wide, desperate smile. "We're so stupid."

I felt Azriel's soft huff more than I heard it. Then his breath brushed over my face, and the next second, his hands slipped under the underside of my thighs and lifted me up.

My legs locked around his waist like instinct, my breath hitching as I held onto his shoulders, and my heart skipped when my nose almost bumped into Azriel's, his eyes bright as he stared at me.

"Remember when you asked me how you're supposed to know what you're looking for and I said you just know?" His low, deep voice sent a shiver down my spine, and I swallowed and somehow managed a nod.

One corner of Azriel's lips curved, then he dropped his head, and my breath caught in my throat, my eyes fluttering close when he leaned his forehead against mine.

"I was thinking of you." Azriel's quiet voice vibrated over my skin. "Because you became all I ever wanted, all I could see when I realised you were what I had been looking for my whole life."

My fingers curled into his hair, and a soft sound left Azriel's lips the same moment my heart rose into my throat.

"Sappy,", I whispered, my voice breaking a little, and Azriel chuckled against my lips before he pulled back, and something tipped over in my chest at the way he stared at me.

I blinked before looking down at his arms holding me up, chest pressing into mine, and something rose under my ribs.

"Now what?"

Azriel's lips curved, and my heart stumbled and skipped at the way his golden eyes twinkled when he raised a brow.

"Now I'll take you back upstairs and we'll do some more things that will ruin just thinking about anybody else."

no. 10 - the golden rule: friends make their own rules.

(and occasionally realize they aren't friends at all and they're idiots.)

@waytoomanyteenagefeels @ailyr92

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Back home

Hey guyss, I wanted to write a story for Charles to celebrate his victory in Monza. I know this part is very reader x Arthur but let me know what you think and if you want more parts :)

You’ve known the Leclercs all your life. It’s hard not to when you’re their neighbour. With you and Arthur being the same age and going to the same class, you naturally became best friends, spending every moment together. From school to afternoons playing at each other's houses to accompanying his family to the track for their races, your lives were intertwined.

You grew up with them. You were there when Arthur won his first race, when Charles got into Formula 1, when you graduated high school. Your life has always been surrounded by the Leclercs, so it was almost inevitable that you’d fall for one of them—Charles.

It was evident to everyone. Even Arthur noticed, and he didn’t like it at all. He made you promise you would never date his brother. After all, how could he stand that when he was in love with you, even if you had no idea?

Your crush on Charles was just that—a crush, an infatuation, a dream. He was older than you and often had a different girl on his arm. You didn’t stand a chance, or so you thought.

Aside from your love dilemmas, everything seemed to be going okay, until one day, your father received a job offer that involved moving to Spain. Your life changed drastically from one day to the next. You spent your last night in Monaco with Arthur, savouring your final hours together before your departure.

The moon hung low over Monaco, casting a soft glow on the city. You and Arthur sat on the steps of the Leclercs' home, the cool night air surrounding you. It was quiet, the kind of silence that carries a weight of unspoken words.

"I can't believe you're leaving," Arthur said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I can't either," you replied, looking down at your hands. "It all happened so fast. One moment, everything was normal, and the next, we're packing up our lives."

Arthur nodded, staring off into the distance. "It's not going to be the same without you here."

You felt a lump in your throat. "I'm going to miss you so much, Arthur. We've done everything together since we were kids. I don't know what I'm going to do without you."

He turned to look at you, his eyes soft but filled with something you couldn’t quite place. "You'll do great things. You always do. Spain…it's just a new adventure for you."

"But I don't want to go," you blurted out, the tears you had been holding back starting to spill over. "I want to stay here, with you, with everyone. I don’t want to leave my life behind."

Arthur reached out, wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb. The touch was tender, lingering longer than usual. "Hey, don’t cry. We’ll still be friends, no matter where you are. You know that, right?"

You nodded, sniffling. "I know, but it's not the same."

He hesitated for a moment, as if battling with himself. "I just…I want you to know that…you mean a lot to me. More than you probably realize."

You gave a small, shaky laugh. "You mean a lot to me too, Arthur. You're my best friend."

He looked like he wanted to say something more, his mouth opening slightly before he closed it again, shaking his head. "Yeah…best friends."

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Arthur gazed at you, his eyes searching yours, and you thought you saw something flicker there—a brief, intense flash of emotion that was gone as quickly as it appeared. Before you could decipher it, he pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly against him.

"I'll always be here for you, no matter what," he murmured into your hair.

You nodded against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "And I'll always be here for you."

You stayed like that for a while, neither of you wanting to let go, until the sky began to lighten with the first signs of dawn. With a heavy heart, you pulled back, knowing it was time to go.

"Goodbye, Arthur," you whispered.

"Goodbye," he replied, his voice barely audible.

As you walked away, you missed the way he watched you, the way his hand reached out, almost as if he wanted to call you back, to tell you everything he’d been holding inside. But he didn’t. He let you go.

Years had passed since that night. You had spent the last four years in Spain, earning your degree and living a different life. But now, you were back in Monaco, ready to start your master's degree.

The airport buzzed with activity, a mix of tourists and locals rushing to their destinations. You walked through the arrival gate, scanning the crowd for a familiar face.

And there he was.

Arthur stood near the entrance, leaning against a pillar with his hands in his pockets, a smile spreading across his face as he spotted you. His hair was a bit longer, and he looked more mature, but his eyes still held that same warmth you remembered.

"Welcome back," he said, pulling you into a hug as you reached him.

"It's so good to see you!" you exclaimed, squeezing him tightly. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," he replied, his voice softer. He pulled back, looking you over. "Spain's been good to you. You look great."

"Thanks," you said, blushing slightly. "You look good too, Arthur. Really good."

He laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Thanks. It's been…different without you here."

You smiled, linking your arm through his as you started walking towards the exit. "Well, I'm back now. We have a lot of catching up to do."

As you talked, Arthur felt his heart swell with every word you said, every smile you gave. Seeing you again brought back all those feelings he’d tried so hard to bury. But he knew better than to show it. You still saw him as your best friend, nothing more. And after all this time, he didn’t want to risk ruining what you had.

"Yeah, we do," he agreed, keeping his voice light. "So, where to first? Home or food?"

You laughed. "Definitely food. I’m starving!"

Arthur chuckled, guiding you towards his car. "Food it is, then. I've got just the place in mind."

As he drove, he stole glances at you, soaking in every detail, every expression. He had never stopped loving you, even after all these years. But for now, he was content just having you back in his life, even if it was just as friends.

Because being near you, hearing your laugh, seeing your smile—that was enough. At least, for now.

Part 2

[claramelooo]

Hey, guys!

If you're reading this, congratulations! We've reached the end of this saga! I'm so happy I had the courage to start this project, and it's all thanks to the support of you guys who interacted with me so well that I felt comfortable writing with all my heart.

I still thinking in eventually to write one-shots for them, but I dunno, you tell me!! Lol

and I will definitely write more about the milfs we love, no worries!

Enjoy it!!

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Warnings: Angst, Smut, Happy Ending!!!

Paring: Mommy Wanda x Brat Fem Reader

Summary: Wanda's courage makes her knock on your door after five years

Read here: Prologue | Part 1 - Predator | Part 2 - The Prey | Part 3 - On your Knees | Part 4 - The Spider | Part 5 - The Lamb | Part 6 - Pure Crimson | Part 7 - Dependece | Part 8 - Passion | Part 9 - Revenge | Part 10 - Control | Part 11 - Consequences

VELVET CHAINS

Love

After five years, everything had changed. You had graduated in International Relations and were working in a mid-level position at the American embassy, handling negotiations, mediating conversations between diplomats, and diving into a routine that made you feel important. It wasn’t exactly what you had imagined when you first dreamed of your career, but you were on the right path.

Living in a quiet Manhattan neighborhood, your apartment reflected who you were: an organized person with a touch of calculated chaos. Stacks of books sat on the coffee table, an unfinished painting leaned against the wall, and Sparky, your Golden Retriever, bounded back and forth with endless energy.

Sparky had come into your life at a strange time, a gift from Yelena. "You need some decent company," she said, placing the puppy in your hands. "Because clearly, you can’t pick good company on your own." It was her way of showing she cared, and you knew that.

Yelena was one of the few ties you kept to your past. Despite your differences, you often met up, usually for quick lunches at tucked-away cafés in the city. She would talk about her work, about Natasha, and occasionally drop hints that you should go out more.

"You're young, smart, and beautiful," she’d say, almost like a mantra. "And you live like a nun."

What Yelena didn’t understand—or pretended not to—was that you didn’t just want to go out more. You wanted something that felt impossible to find: connection.

Even when you went out with your blonde fling (if you could even call her that), everything felt hollow. She was funny, gorgeous, and always willing to meet up, but she knew nothing about who you really were. She didn’t know about Sparky, your sleepless nights reading poetry, and definitely didn’t know about Wanda.

Ah, Wanda.

There were moments when thoughts of her crept in. Not intentionally, of course, but reflexively. Like when Sparky did something adorable, reminding you of how much Wanda loved dogs. Or when a particular song came on, one she used to hum while cooking.

But you’d learned to shove those memories into the back of your mind. There was too much to deal with in the present.

That day, for example, a stack of reports awaited your review, and you had a meeting at three. But first, you needed to take Sparky for a quick walk. Grabbing his leash, you left the apartment, greeting a few neighbors along the way.

"Good morning, Y/n!" called a cheerful older woman from the second floor.

"Good morning, Mrs. Harris!" you replied, your smile automatic but genuine.

Mornings were like that: simple, ordinary. A far cry from the life you once lived.

By the end of the day, Sparky lay curled up on the rug while you pored over a complicated email. The weight of routine settled over you. Everything seemed in place, yet something still felt out of tune.

You paused, staring out at the city through the window. The lights shimmered on the horizon, a promise of vibrant life out there.

But inside you, there was only silence.

After five years, everything had changed—except you.

Outwardly, you were the perfect image of an adult woman: successful, independent, living the life anyone would envy. But inside, the marks Wanda had left on you lingered like invisible scars, impossible to ignore.

You still felt like a little girl, torn between the desire to be cared for and the need for discipline. No matter how much you tried to bury it, there was a void in your routine that no job, company, or casual relationship could fill.

Wanda had shaped you. She taught you to surrender, to trust, to lose control in a safe way—and somehow, that had defined you. The nights with her still visited your dreams, a mix of longing and anguish. Her voice, firm yet full of care, still echoed in your mind when you felt overwhelmed.

"Good girl."

It was a simple phrase, but loaded with meanings no one else seemed to understand. It wasn’t just the compliment itself; it was what came with it: warmth, security, the feeling of being seen entirely.

A shiver ran down your spine at the memory. Sometimes, you hated it—hated how her memories still held power over you. But the truth was that part of you yearned for it again: a firm touch, a gaze that stripped away all your layers of protection, a kiss that said, "You’re mine."

You’d tried to recreate it with other people, of course. Foolishly, you thought you might find something similar with your blonde fling. But the woman lacked patience, or the understanding to handle your needs. She enjoyed herself, sure, but she had no idea that, for you, it went far beyond casual sex.

There were times when she rolled her eyes as you hesitated or became too submissive. It made you withdraw, reminding you that without Wanda, no one else seemed willing or capable of understanding.

"You’re complicated," the blonde had once said after you hesitated to take any initiative.

The woman straddling you moved rhythmically, trying to coax a reaction that just wouldn’t come. It wasn’t her fault; she was doing everything right. The problem was you. It was always you. Or rather, the emptiness left by the one who should never have gone.

Your vacant gaze fixed on the ceiling, your hands resting lazily on her hips, entirely unenthusiastic. Everything felt wrong, each touch a cruel reminder of what you truly wanted.

And it was only one person.

Not even five damn years had been enough to erase her name from your mind. It was etched somewhere between your ribs, buried deep but never far enough to ignore.

Wanda.

You closed your eyes, trying to push the thought away, but it was useless. All you could do was remember the feel of her mouth on yours, the sound of her raspy voice calling your name, the devastating look that made you feel like the only person in the world.

Now, she was on the other side of the country. Probably lying in bed next to her perfect husband. You almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Vision was everything any woman could want: stable, respectable, and, of course, approved by everyone that mattered. But he was never you.

You let out a deep, heavy sigh, so profound the blonde paused, propping herself up on her elbows to look at you with a mix of confusion and irritation.

"Are you going to fuck me or not?"

You shifted your gaze to the blonde straddling you... Jenna? Jemma? You couldn’t even remember her name. All you knew was that she worked in a different department.

Gripping the blonde’s hair, you yanked her head closer. "That’s not how you ask for what you want. But since you’re a dumb little slut, I’ll do all the work."

The woman, who had been about to protest your dirty language, fell silent as you buried three fingers inside her. You grabbed her waist and pulled her down until your fingers disappeared completely.

Her nails were already digging into your shoulders with the simple movement. You smiled to yourself before you began to destroy the poor woman's pussy. You thrust with maximum speed and force, making her scream in pleasure.

You curled your fingertips, hitting the woman's spongy, pulsing spot—bringing tremors in her legs, indicating the strong signs of an orgasm. When the woman came loudly, you pulled out of her.

At least she started to get dressed quickly afterward, "Maybe we can do this again sometime."

You gave her a weak smile. "Maybe."

You grabbed your phone, ordering an Uber for the blonde, the feeling of having brought her here haunting your mind like a mistake weighing on your heart.

As you waited for the blonde's Uber, guilt began to mix with boredom. It wasn't just her; it was the whole situation. The repetition of the same pattern: empty encounters, forgettable faces, names you didn't even bother to remember. You grabbed a robe to dress yourself and cover your nakedness—you threw yourself on the living room couch, while Sparky, your faithful companion, jumped beside you, offering an affection that seemed to be the only true constant in your life.

The apartment was a clear representation of who you had become over the past five years. Modern, well-decorated, yet with an air of transience, as though you had never truly committed to the space. A reflection of your own soul, perhaps.

And now, there was the job offer abroad. Paris. A dream for anyone in your field. The first thought you had when you received the news was excitement. Yet, there was something inside you that hesitated. It wasn’t just attachment to what you had built in Manhattan. It was what you still couldn’t let go of, even after all this time.

Wanda.

Her name still carried a different weight. A name that brought a flood of memories: her laughter, the way she looked at you, the way the world seemed to dissolve when you were together. You didn’t know how she was now. You knew she was in Texas. But beyond that?

Was she still with Vision? Did the boys remember you? Had she completely forgotten about you?

The emptiness returned, but this time with a twinge of curiosity. What was Wanda doing now? Was she sleeping beside Vision? Was she thinking about you?

The sound of a notification on your phone pulled you from your thoughts. The Uber had arrived. You got up, escorting the woman outside, ensuring she was safe—you’d never let anyone leave without making sure of that. The blonde waved at you from the car window, and you responded with an automatic gesture before walking toward your balcony.

You stopped in your tracks when you heard a familiar, yet more mature voice.

“You should put some clothes on if you’re planning to stay out here all night.”

Your blood ran cold at the sound of that voice. A strong wave of denial surged within you. Turning toward the voice took all the strength you had to stop yourself from retreating indoors.

The world seemed to tilt when you turned, and there she was. Wanda Maximoff. Five years. Five damn years since the last time you’d seen her, but nothing could have prepared you for this moment.

She stood at the base of your balcony, arms crossed over her chest, covered by a wool cardigan. Her hair was longer than you remembered, with strands that caught the faint streetlight, giving her an almost ethereal glow. But that wasn’t what captured your attention. It wasn’t her undeniable beauty. It was the restrained fury in her eyes, a deep, uncontrollable fire that pierced you like blades.

“Wanda…” you whispered, her name barely escaping your throat as your heart raced wildly.

She raised an eyebrow, her expression stern as she tilted her head slightly. “I asked if you’re staying out here all night or if you’re finally going to get dressed.”

You looked down at yourself, realizing you were still in just your robe, nothing else. But it wasn’t enough to distract you from the fact that she was there. After five years. After all the time and distance, she was standing on your balcony, looking at you as though she could dismantle your entire life with a single glance.

“I…” You tried to speak, but your voice failed. Your chest tightened, a storm of emotions you couldn’t name swirling inside you. Fear. Guilt. Longing. Anger. Love. All spinning within you like a tornado. “It’s been a while.” You finally settled on that response.

Wanda’s eyes narrowed at you. “Yes, and you’ve kept yourself very busy since the last time I saw you.”

Her sarcasm hit you like a slap. Her anger, once contained, began to spill over. How dare she? Five years of silence. Five years of emptiness, and now she was here, judging you?

“It’s none of your business,” you retorted, your voice harsher than you intended.

“It used to be,” Wanda replied with the same intensity. She took a step closer, her eyes burning as her voice dropped to something rougher, more intimate. “You used to be so good to Mommy.”

Her words cut like a knife. The heat you’d felt turned to a chill. You stepped back, raising your hands as if to keep a safe distance from her, from everything she represented.

“Goodnight, Wanda,” you said, your voice cold and controlled, trying to salvage the last shred of dignity you had. You turned to head inside, but before you could take more than two steps, you felt a tug on your wrist.

Her touch, even after everything, was familiar. Too familiar. Your eyes met hers again, and something in Wanda’s expression had shifted. There was anger, yes, but also... something else. Something that looked like desperation.

“Y/n,” she said, her voice now almost a whisper, yet it carried the weight of a thousand unspoken conversations. “We need to talk.”

“Talk?” you repeated, almost mocking. “Five years, Wanda. Five years of silence. And now you show up at my door, after everything... to talk?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, as if searching for the right words. When she opened them again, tears were beginning to pool.

The tension in the air was almost suffocating. Your heart was still racing as you stepped back, swallowing hard and looking away from Wanda. It was too much—seeing her there, the weight of her presence after all this time. You tried to escape the emotional storm, turning toward your hallway, your hands trembling as you gripped the door to close it.

But before the wood could meet the frame, her foot stopped it.

The shock of her audacity quickly morphed into anger. You spun on your heels, ready to confront her, but before you could say a word, Wanda had already crossed the threshold of your home. Without permission.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” your voice came out firm, though the lump in your throat remained. You stepped forward, crossing your arms, trying to project an authority you didn’t feel.

Wanda didn’t seem the least bit intimidated. She shut the door behind her with a calm that was unsettling, her green eyes scanning the room before landing back on you. “I’m not standing out in the cold while you play house with every random whore who crosses your path. But when I need you—when Mommy needs you—you refuse to listen,” she said, her tone almost casual, but with an edge of something dangerous, like a sharp knife wrapped in velvet.

The word you hadn’t heard, hadn’t uttered in years, sent shivers down your spine. Hearing it from Wanda’s mouth reignited a fire in your lower belly—one you tried to ignore.

“Listen?” You laughed, but it was dry and full of disbelief. “You barge into my house after five years and think I owe you anything? Wanda?”

Wanda stepped closer, and you realized you were cornered between her and the wall. Despite the anger burning inside you, something else was growing—something that made your knees weak and the air hard to breathe.

“Five years,” she repeated, her voice heavy with meaning. “Five years without a single word. And now, when I finally see you, you think you can dismiss me with a ‘goodnight, Wanda’? No. We’re going to talk, Y/n.”

“Talk?” you repeated, almost derisively.

The tension in the room was almost electric as you held Wanda’s gaze. No matter how hard you tried to maintain your firm posture, your crossed arms, and your cold voice, something inside you was crumbling. She was so close now, and that familiar scent—a mix of something floral and woody—invaded your senses, dragging up memories you had spent five long years trying to bury.

“Yes, talk,” Wanda replied, her tone lower now, but with an intensity that rooted you in place. “And you’re going to listen, Y/n. Because I didn’t cross half the country to be ignored.”

You let out a bitter laugh, anger and confusion boiling inside you. “You don’t have the right to show up here and demand anything from me, Wanda. Nothing! You made your choice, remember? You chose your family. You chose Vision. So why are you here now? For what?”

Her eyes shimmered with a mix of pain and determination.

"Vision found out." Two words—only two words were enough for you to completely let your guard down with her.

You felt your arms drop to your sides, your posture crumbling. All the control you had desperately tried to maintain was ripped away. Wanda observed the change in you, her eyes watchful but devoid of any satisfaction. It seemed like she was crumbling inside too.

"Found out what, exactly?" you asked, but your voice came out softer than you intended. It was a loaded question, filled with everything you had tried to ignore for years.

"About us," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. "About everything."

You let yourself fall back against the wall, trying to find stability as your head spun. "And then? What do you want from me now, Wanda? I can't be your safe place when everything falls apart. Not anymore."

The woman ignored your questions and continued her monologue, her eyes glistening with tears. “He threatened me. Threatened to expose this to the church, threatened to take the boys from me.” Wanda's voice was a fragile thread.

You tried to speak, but your throat was dry. Everything about her—the teary eyes, the voice heavy with pain, the proximity—was pulling you back into a whirlwind of emotions you didn’t want to face.

“I thought about killing him.” The confession made your heart stop for a second. You felt the weight of those words hit you like a punch. Wanda, your Wanda, talking about murdering her husband with an almost practical coldness.

She took another step, her palm now resting against your cheek, a touch so delicate it completely contrasted with the violence of her words.

“It would be simple to poison him, and I’d be free—I’d have my boys, my reputation intact, I’d have you.”

The closeness was suffocating. The intensity in her eyes, the tears slowly rolling down Wanda's face, mingling with your own tear-filled gaze, trapped you in a way you couldn’t escape.

“But then… Billy got sick, and I saw no other way out, Y/n. There was no other way to push you out of my life except for that…” Her voice trembled, an echo of a desperation so raw and real it made your chest tighten even more.

Your heart was torn between believing her and protecting yourself. Her words seemed genuine, but you knew Wanda had always had the power to manipulate your feelings. She always knew exactly how to reach the most vulnerable corners of your soul.

“Wanda, I...” You tried to find words but were lost. Lost in the whirlwind of emotions she provoked in you—anger, sadness, love, and a terrible longing for everything you used to be together.

"I never wanted to hurt you," she whispered, her fingers now softly tracing the line of your jaw. "I just wanted to protect you. Protect the boys. Protect... us."

"Protect?" Your voice finally found strength. "Wanda, you destroyed everything. Not just your life but mine too. I spent five years trying to piece together what you left behind. And now you come back, expecting me to believe it was all to protect us?"

Wanda stepped back slightly, but her eyes remained fixed on yours, pleading for something you didn’t know if you could give. "I don’t expect you to forgive me, Y/n. Not now. Maybe not ever. But I needed you to know. I needed you to understand what really happened."

Silence fell between you, heavy and oppressive. Her words still echoed in your mind. Vision. Threats. The boys. She had thought about killing for you. For them.

And despite everything, a part of you wanted to believe her. Wanted to go back in time, to before everything fell apart, to when her touch was the only thing that made sense in the world. But the past was there, as present as she was, and you didn’t know how to escape its shadow.

“Who was she?” Wanda's hoarse voice cut through the silence like a blade—low, but laden with an intensity that sent a shiver up your spine.

You blinked, confused, trying to understand the question. "Who...?"

"The blonde? Who was she?" Wanda interrupted, her eyes burning into yours, her tone a little firmer, almost possessive.

You hesitated, discomfort growing. "I... I don’t know what that matters now, Wanda."

"It matters," she shot back, stepping forward. "Because she left your house wearing the same cheap perfume I smelled on you when I arrived. So I’ll ask again: who was she?"

The sudden clarity in Wanda's words hit you like a shock. It wasn’t just curiosity or simple jealousy; there was something deeper in the way she was looking at you, as if she desperately needed this answer.

“She’s just...” You averted your gaze, trying to find an explanation that didn’t sound as frivolous as the truth. "She’s nobody. Someone from work. She means nothing."

“Means nothing,” Wanda repeated, almost to herself, but with a touch of sarcasm that hurt more than you wanted to admit. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as if trying to calm herself. When she opened them again, her green eyes were intense, locked on yours. "You think I believe that? Since when would you let just anyone touch you? She isn’t ‘nothing.’"

"You have no right to come here and ask me these kinds of questions, Wanda. Not after everything," you snapped back, your own anger finally starting to bubble.

She began, her voice deep but trembling, “Just the thought of someone else touching you, kissing you, seeing you the way I did…” She paused, her fists clenched at her sides. “It feels like the ground is disappearing beneath me.”

You felt the air leave your lungs. Her intensity was overwhelming. "Wanda..."

“You don’t get it, do you?” Her voice broke, and for a moment, she seemed so vulnerable that you didn’t know whether to stay or run. “I tried to move on. I tried to accept that I’d never have you again. But every day, every night that passed, I felt you with me. Here.” She pressed her hand to her chest, over her heart.

You stayed silent, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to deal with the storm forming in front of you.

“I see myself in every woman who tries to touch you," she continued, her voice lowering but still loaded with dangerous intensity. “And it’s unbearable. Because no matter who they are, I know none of them will ever be good enough for you. Because none of them are me.”

Her words hit like a blow, mixing anger, sadness, and a pang of something you didn’t want to name. Love. Maybe obsession.

You whimpered, “That’s not fair! You chose him over me! You can’t just come here and say whatever you want.”

“I had to, Y/n! For the sake of my kids, for Billy’s health!” She snapped, clearly frustrated with your stubbornness.

You let out an incredulous laugh. “And what does that mean now, huh? What does it change in the present?”

She stood up from the couch, straightening her posture—and her pride. “It means I’m divorcing him.” She began walking toward you in slow steps. “It means I took the first flight and traveled 27 hours—even though I’m terrified of planes—just to see you.” Wanda smiled, emotional. More steps, closer to you. “It means, Y/n, that no matter how hard I’ve tried, I can’t forget you.”

You wanted to step back, but your body wouldn’t obey. You couldn’t control yourself and cursed inwardly at the thought that your body still belonged to her, and the promise Wanda made you before still lingered.

“You know what, Y/n?” Wanda said, staring at you intently.

You couldn’t have answered even if you wanted to, your voice stuck in your throat.

“All I’ve been able to think about for the last few fucking months is your beautiful face between my legs.” Her face was close to yours, her breath fresh and hauntingly familiar, tickling your skin. “Tell me, so many women coming and going from this place… but has any of them made you come like I did?”

The truth was that you hadn’t had an orgasm since your last time with Wanda. Every woman who had passed through your life didn’t understand how much you wanted to be broken during sex and then be held, pampered, loved…

“Oh, poor thing… Haven’t you cum since the last time Mommy made you?”

Usually, you hated it when people got in your head, but you were getting close to the limits of your intelligence. The only woman who could make you was right in front of you trying to do just that.

“It seems like you need Mommy as much as she needs you.” Wanda slowly knelt down, opening the robe you were wearing a little. She moaned when she saw that you weren’t wearing any panties.

“Fuck, I love how wet you get for me.” The woman’s mouth was watering as she remembered the taste of you on her tongue.

Your breathing quickened when one of Wanda’s fingers dragged through your folds. Quickly, you took a step back and closed the robe again.

“I can’t do this. You're going to fuck me and then leave me!” You shouted, stomping your feet like the little girl Wanda knew well and missed terribly.

“Y/n, I'm getting a divorce, seriously!” She uses that soothing tone, the tone she used to calm you down when you cried in her arms after a punishment.

Before you can deny her once more, Wanda crushes her lips to yours—and that was the end of the conversation. Your hands locked themselves in the older woman's blond locks, bringing her even closer to you.

“I hate you so much!” You growled, biting Wanda's lower lip, making her moan. “You owe me the best orgasm of my life.”

You rip the woman's blouse, wrapping Wanda's nipple between your teeth—mutilating them, making Wanda moan.

“Has he touched you since I left? Do you moan like that for him? Does your body react to his touch?” As much as you tried. Tried to forget her and put out the fire of your obsession for her, here you were, with your mouth mistreating every inch of her skin.

“No.” Wanda replied breathlessly, her hands tangling in your hair. “Only you.” The woman’s intense gaze as she said this made you shiver.

Wanda pulled your head away from her. Your neck was stretched back as she stared hungrily at your body, “Mommy understands that you’re mad at her, baby, but don’t forget who’s in charge. You want to make me happy, don’t you?”

You immediately flinched at the brightness of her black eyes of pure excitement, “Yes, Mommy.”

Her lips pressed against yours in a small peck, “Good girl, now take me upstairs.”

There was a hesitant tremor in your body as you picked up the older woman and carried her to your bedroom. You sat her down on the bed and stood in front of her, waiting for the next move. You were writhing around, your pussy was so wet.

"Did you enjoy fucking that blonde slut on this bed? This bed should only be used for pleasure if mommy allows it."

You shook your head, "No, mommy…"

"What about the other sluts you were fucking? Hmm, you had so many, didn't you? All blondes… I wonder why that was."

Your focus was divided between her questions and the hand she was using to tease you. Her hand found a path you desperately wanted to follow. From your chest to your pussy.

"No mommy, they couldn't satisfy me."

Wanda finally took a long step towards you, placing her hand on your chest. "And why is that, baby?"

Your breath hitched as she touched the band of your robe, threatening to take it off. Her delicate finger crept into your folds.

"Because only mommy can make me cum." She pinched your clit, making you whimper,

"Say it again."

"Only mommy can make me cum," Your voice rose an octave as Wanda thrust a finger into you.

There was a slightly sadistic look on her face at the sound of your cries. She bent down to her knees, pulling off your robe, leaving you completely naked to her. Her finger continued to attack your pussy.

"You're so tight, Detka, has no one put a finger inside you since mommy? Have you kept that pussy all pristine for me?" You were struggling to stand at this point.

The way she was talking to you along with her finger fucking was enough to make you fall apart. Wanda smacked your thigh firmly, making you jump in surprise,

"Mommy asked you a question." Your frantic eyes met hers,

"No, mommy, no one has touched me since you."

"Not even your pretty little finger has been in that pussy?" You shake your head,

"No, Mommy."

She takes this as a sign to shove 2 more fingers inside you, "Open that pussy for Mommy. When I'm done, that hole will be just right for Mommy."

You moaned at the way your pussy stretched for Wanda. You could feel the juices dripping out of you as Wanda worked her magic on you. You almost screamed when you felt a slap against your clittoris.

Although you couldn’t see her, you were sure the woman was smiling at your reaction. She continued to pound your clit hard to the point that your knees felt like they would give out at any moment.

“It’s like it’s the first time all over again. You can’t handle a simple caress and a slap on your pussy without your legs giving out. We’re going to have to retrain you after this,” the woman pushed you hard onto the bed.

Your hands were gripping the edge of the mattress as your legs dangled over the edge. Wanda settled herself between your knees.

Her hot breath teasing your pussy. She gave one last smack before closing her lips around your clit.

“Fuck, mommy!” Wanda giggled into your pussy, sending vibrations through your body.

Wanda used one hand to hold you down as she fingered and tongue fucked you. Your back was almost arched off the bed.

“Mmm, so sweet.” She murmured into your pussy. “Mommy missed that smell so much, that sticky little pussy of yours wetting my mouth.” Wanda ground her own pussy into the edge of the mattress, the friction sending tremors through her legs.

You wanted to close your legs because there was something building in the pit of your stomach.

You staggered up from your sitting position when Wanda removed all contact. It was like your eyes were going to pop out of your head.

There was a mischievous smile on her lips as she looked down at you.

“What’s wrong, Detka?”

Your body was shaking, yearning for your long-awaited release.

“Mommy, please.”

Wanda smiled even wider as she crawled on top of you, lining her pussy up with your fluid cunt. She was directly above you, her eyes looking playfully into yours,

“Please, what, huh? We’ve barely started, baby girl, you don’t want to cum now, do you?”

Wanda began to grind against you, making you both moan at the contact of your pussies together. The ease with which your clits met only showed that your bodies had met before—maybe in another life.

"I need to cum, Mommy. Please let me cum. Fuck, it's been too long…. I need my Mommy to make me cum, only Mommy can make me cum, please," you were desperate.

If you even tried to touch yourself without her permission right now, she would deny you. The best thing you could do was beg like the hungry slut you truly were.

She increased the friction against your pussy and a small cry escaped your lips. You demanded more, and Wanda knew it.

"Look at me," Wanda gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her.

She brushed your messy hair away from your face and placed a tender kiss on your forehead, "I've missed you so much, Y/N. I'm going to make you cum so hard. Do you know why?"

You shook your head, unable to speak. Tender moments during sex didn’t happen often between the two of you. So this was definitely new, and it was making your heart flutter.

She placed her forehead against yours, “Because I love you.” She moaned passionately, as if those words had been stuck in her throat for a long time. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed my perfect little slut? My little sneaky baby, huh?” Wanda continued to grind her hips against you, feeling her orgasm coming on herself.

“All I want to do is take care of you. I want to make you feel good because it makes me feel good.” She began to thrust harder against you.

You grab her face with both hands, crushing your lips against hers feverishly. She slumps against your body, so she’s no longer holding back.

You moan directly into her mouth as she begins to move more sporadically against you.

“Cum for me, Y/N,” the command was whispered in your ear, and that was all it took for you to cum.

Both of your bodies shook, and your arms flew around Wanda, pinning her in place. It felt like your entire body was spasming under the immense amount of pleasure.

Wanda placed soft kisses on the side of your neck as you began to regain your composure, “You’re my good girl. Cumming as soon as Mommy says you can.” You look so beautiful when you're under me like this, darling.

Wanda sighed, her fingers tracing small circles on your back, each gentle touch laden with a tenderness that felt almost reverent. Her breathing seemed calm, but you could feel the rapid pulse in her chest, as if her heart was struggling to break free from the walls her mind insisted on building. There was a raw vulnerability in the silence between you, a space where unspoken emotions seemed to take form.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” you murmured, your voice thick as you buried your face in her shoulder. Every word felt like a battle against the tight knot in your throat, threatening to unravel into tears at any moment.

“I did too,” Wanda replied, her voice heavy with a weight only she could understand. Her lips brushed against the top of your head in a slow, almost hesitant kiss, as if she needed to confirm you were real. “And every day without you… felt like an eternity. A never-ending punishment.”

“I love you too, Wanda. That’s never changed.” The words came as a whisper but carried a devastating power. You didn’t need volume; the love pouring out of every syllable was enough to fill the void of the lost years.

Wanda froze for a moment, as if your confession had the power to split time in half. You hadn’t realized how tense she was until you felt her body relax against yours, a shaky breath escaping her lips. Slowly, she pulled away, rolling to her side until the two of you were face-to-face. Wanda’s face was an open book—hope, fear, and love colliding in a whirlwind of emotions.

“I have children,” she said finally, her voice low and raw, as if each word was a confession torn from her. Her gaze was piercing, searching yours as though bracing for judgment or hesitation.

“I know,” you said, your voice steady, a contrast to the delicate fragility of the moment. Your eyes held hers, offering the reassurance she seemed to desperately need.

“The divorce…” Wanda continued, her words almost a lament, “it might get messy. Ugly. And I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know.” You squeezed her fingers gently, as if to say no obstacle would be big enough to separate you again.

The silence that followed was heavy but not uncomfortable. It was as if both hearts were readjusting their rhythms to beat in unison once more after so long out of sync. You brought your free hand to her face, gently caressing her warm, delicate skin.

“I’m here by your side, Wanda, no matter what happens. As long as you’re honest with me, I’m yours.”

Wanda blinked, her eyes glistening with tears she didn’t try to hide. “All mine…” she echoed, her voice almost a whisper, as though she couldn’t believe the words. A single tear slid down her cheek, and you wiped it away with your thumb, a simple gesture heavy with unspoken promises.

“Yes,” you reaffirmed, your voice soft but resolute. “Always yours.”

Wanda closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. When she opened them again, a determination shone in her gaze that hadn’t been there before. “I’m going to fight for this. For us. I’ll never let you go again.”

And so, in that room where time seemed to have stopped, you found each other once more. After five years of pain and distance, nothing felt more certain than the promise you now shared.

[...]

The irresistible aroma of roasted turkey wafted through the house, mingling with the scent of pumpkin pies and spices that promised a memorable dinner. Through the window, the golden light of an autumn evening softly spilled onto the dining room walls, painting everything with a warm, cozy glow. Sparky, ever vigilant for any sign of food, lay at the foot of the table, watching everyone’s movements like a little guardian.

“Tommy, if you put one more olive on that plate, I swear you won’t get dessert!” Wanda scolded, her voice filled with exasperation, though her eyes betrayed an amused glint.

“Mom, olives are the best part of dinner!” Tommy retorted, stacking a fourth olive in the corner of his plate as if building a tower. Billy, seated next to him, leaned in with a teasing grin.

“Let him be, Mom. At least that way he’s eating something, considering he always skips the vegetables.”

“I don’t skip them! I… selectively eat them,” Tommy corrected, raising an eyebrow.

Wanda ran a hand over her face, clearly resisting the urge to say more. She looked like the epitome of an exhausted mother: wrinkled apron, hair tied back in a hurried bun, and a furrow between her brows that revealed her struggle to keep everything under control. Watching from the kitchen as you sliced bread, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“Relax, love. They’re just excited. It’s part of the holiday,” you said gently, crossing the space between the kitchen and the table with a plate of salad. Wanda turned toward you, her shoulders subtly relaxing at the sound of your voice.

“They’re going to drive me insane, that’s what’s going to happen,” she grumbled, though her words were tinged with affection.

Leaning in, you kissed her cheek, ignoring the muffled teasing coming from the boys.

“It’s only until dinner. I promise, after that, they’ll be calm and polite as angels.”

“Doubt it!” Billy called out loudly from across the table, laughing as Wanda narrowed her eyes at him.

Finally, everyone sat at the table, the golden turkey shining at the center, surrounded by colorful dishes: gratin potatoes, sautéed vegetables, pies, and sauces that completed the feast. Sparky, realizing it was mealtime, lay down again with an exaggerated sigh.

“Okay, kids, let’s give thanks for today,” you suggested, taking Wanda’s hand, who in turn took Tommy’s. The chain was formed. Billy glanced sideways at his brother before offering a small smile.

“I’m thankful for this new house and for Mom’s cooking,” Tommy said first, surprising everyone with his sincerity. Wanda blinked, clearly moved, but held herself together.

Billy, ever practical, smirked and said, “I’m thankful Sparky didn’t eat my snack this week. And for that pumpkin pie over there.”

Everyone laughed, breaking the momentary seriousness. Wanda squeezed your hand gently before speaking.

“I’m thankful for the family I chose and for the peace we have here. None of this would be possible without you.” She looked directly at you, her green eyes full of a tenderness that seemed to envelop her entirely.

You smiled, feeling your heart warm. “And I’m thankful for all of you. For being together, healthy, and happy. That’s all that matters.”

That night, as the boys slept in the room next door and Sparky snored at the foot of the couch, you and Wanda found each other in the small space of your new home, cups of tea in hand. The soft lights of the room illuminated only your faces, creating an intimate and cozy bubble.

“Do you realize we’re here now? Together. Like a family,” Wanda murmured, her voice tinged with a sweet incredulity. “I never imagined my life could be like this.”

“You deserve this, Wanda. You deserve love, you deserve peace.”

She smiled softly, her eyes glinting with some distant memory. “That trip to Paris… it was the best surprise I’ve ever had.”

You laughed, fondly recalling the moment. Wanda thought you were taking her just to celebrate your vacation, but both of you had a secret plan. On the first night, under the illuminated Eiffel Tower, you took her to dinner, pulled a ring from your pocket, and knelt before her. Wanda’s smile and tears were enough to calm any nerves.

What you hadn’t expected, however, was that she also had a ring hidden in her bag.

“It’s funny how we proposed to each other at the same time,” you said, laughing softly.

“I knew we were meant to be; I just needed a ring to make it official,” Wanda joked, leaning into you.

The memories mingled with the present: family dinners, the twins’ laughter, Sparky’s innocent antics, and the love that overflowed in every touch and shared glance between you. Life went on, and that moment was just a snapshot of a story that would continue long after the readers’ eyes closed.

Destiny is a quiet and unpredictable force, weaving invisible threads between souls that, somehow, were meant to find each other. Sometimes, it acts as a whisper in the wind, a shared glance in a church that grows into a grand story, the kind so impactful they become unpublishable.

The best love stories are the ones eyes can’t read, the ones words aren’t enough to tell. They are the stories that are felt or dreamed.

Some loves are born as sparks: they shine brightly but end in the same breath that started them. Others, however, carry eternity in the eyes of those who live them. They are built over years, with patience, courage, and even silence. These loves withstand time, crossing generations, and when life ends, they find a way to continue. Perhaps in another era, perhaps in another skin, but never in another heart. Because there are loves that don’t belong to just one life. They belong to destiny, and destiny, however whimsical, always finds a way to perpetuate what was born to be eternal.

We are all like pieces of coins that children break in half as keepsakes—turning one into two, like flounders—and each of us is always searching for our corresponding half.

And so all this commotion is a relic of that original state of ours, from when we were whole, and now, when we long for and pursue that primordial wholeness, we say we are in love.

And that was it. You had found your other half. Wanda was your primordial wholeness, and you were hers. The world might change around you, but that—that silent and secure love between you—would remain, unbreakable as velvet chains.

~*~

Thankiuuu so much for you read Velvet Chains!!! YEYY

I hope the ending met your expectations!

I dunno if i'll write anything before Christimas, so... MERRY CHRISTMAS you gayyys!

Tag list <3

@vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @trindad2k

@indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher

@idkwhatever580 @valentine585

@reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good

@imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @bees-for-brains @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp

@lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @sheriffswan-blog @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 6

Warnings: angst, mentions of heartbreak, alcohol consumption

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Steve finally gets the answer to a question that has been haunting him for days.

Word count: 6k+

A/N: @belokhvostikova remember the ask you sent me about the idea with the denim jacket? I had to include it in this chapter, so thank you hehe &lt;;3

series masterlist

-

Steve’s phone kept ringing all day, since the early morning hours. He doesn’t know if it was her or his mom, he didn’t bother to get up and check. At some point, the doorbell rang twice, he didn’t get up to open it either. He wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to see anyone except for you. The thought of you just made him cry harder and made him feel more pathetic about himself – he kept reminding himself that it was him who fucked it all up. 

He never felt such self hatred for himself the way he does now. All day, he laid in bed thinking about you and all the things that happened that led him here, getting drunk at a bar he used to hate, wallowing in self pity while he knocks back one drink after the other after throwing his fake ID on the counter.

How will he keep going? 

Steve downs his fourth drink of the night and slides the empty glass over to the bartender, asking for another one. 

The man gives him a look of concern, eying Steve for a moment. 

“Just.. please,” Steve mumbles. 

The bartender sighs, shaking his head, he mumbles something under his breath but still, he picks up the bottle and pours the whiskey into the glass, “you’re getting water after this one, son.” 

“I have water at home,” Steve says. He reaches for the glass and slides it back towards himself. He leans his elbow on the counter and looks around the mostly empty room. Some rock song is playing in the background, one he doesn’t recognize. There’s a heavy cloud of smoke in the corner of the room where two men are sitting, laughing at some jokes that probably aren’t funny as they smoke their cigarettes and drink their beer. 

The door opens and in walks the guy that is probably one of the most irritating people at Hawkins High – to him, at least. Steve bites back a groan when their eyes lock. He turns back around, avoiding eye contact. From the corner of his eye, he sees him walking towards the bar. 

“Hey Tony.” 

Steve lifts his head a little to see the Bartender smiling. 

“Hey Ed, how’s it going?” 

Eddie drums his fingers against the wooden counter, he looks around the room, “good, uh, have you seen my notebook? I’ve been looking for it everywhere but I can’t find it – I even cleaned out my van, can you believe it?” 

Tony chuckles, “was about time you cleaned out that thing, boy.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, snorting, “yeah, well I’m busy.” 

“With what?” 

Eddie pretends to think as he raises his brows and looks up at the ceiling, “well, working my ass off so I don’t have to repeat senior year again, I recently found a good tutor,” Eddie smirks, “got myself a muse to help me write the song texts,” Eddie wiggles his brows, making the older man laugh, “working on a new campaign. Oh and of course, how could I forget, comforting the broken hearted – you know, just the usual,” he shrugs as his eyes flicker over to Steve for a moment.

“What a busy man you are, Eddie,” Tony chuckles, shaking his head. He throws the towel on the counter, “I’ll take a look in the back.” 

“Thanks man,” Eddie smiles, watching him disappear in the hallways. He turns his head to look at Steve. 

“What is King Steve doing at the Hideout?” 

Steve turns to face him and Eddie raises his brows in surprise, “damn, you look like shit, man.” Eddie says. Taking in the puffy eyes and the dark circles beneath them, he almost feels bad for him. His hair looks messy, not as perfectly done the way it always is. 

“Get lost, freak.” 

“Always the douchebag,” Eddie mumbles, rolling his eyes.

Steve turns away, he raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip, swallowing the bitterness. 

“Are you pre drinking for the dance tomorrow or are you just drowning your sorrows in alcohol because you finally realized what a piece of shit you are?” Eddie asks. Not being able to hold back. 

Steve frowns, he turns to face him. There is something in Eddie’s eyes that Steve can’t read. 

“What the hell is your problem?” He asks. Not understanding the anger that is directed at him. They never liked each other but they never attacked each other either. Steve avoided him, he never had the jock’s back when they bullied him but he never really did anything about it either. 

Eddie looks at him for a moment. He opens his mouth to speak but decides against it. He sighs and looks away but Steve keeps staring at him. A weird feeling takes over him when he looks down at the jacket Eddie is wearing. His heart stops and his face pales. 

It’s that jacket. The one that has been in your room all week. It’s just a normal dark denim jacket, it could just be a similar one, he tells himself. But the Metallica pin on the sleeve is the exact same one that he had seen on the jacket in your room. 

Eddie smells like cigarettes and weed, the cologne that he can smell even from a distance is the same one that he had smelled on you. Realization floods through him in a cold wave. 

Eddie Munson is the stoner Billy had talked about? 

Eddie Munson is the guy you have been seeing? 

How did you even meet him? 

You never even talked to him when you were still with him. 

“You got lucky, Ed,” Tony says, holding up Eddie’s notebook, “you gotta take better care of your things.” 

Eddie chuckles, feeling relief. He takes the notebook and sighs, “I know, I know,” he mumbles and steps back, “I’ll see you on Tuesday, Tony.” 

“Tell your old man to come by too.”

“Yes sir,” Eddie salutes, grinning at the older man, he takes another look at Steve, who stares into blank space as he holds the half empty glass in his hand. Sighing, he turns around and leaves. 

Steve snaps out of his thoughts, he reaches for the wallet in his back pocket and picks out a fifty dollar bill. He throws it on the counter and puts his wallet back into place, he grabs his jacket and makes his way out of the bar, following Eddie. 

“Hey! This is too much, kid!” 

“Keep the change,” Steve mumbles before he stumbles out into the cold. He clumsily puts on his jacket. The cold air hits him harshly and he suddenly feels much tipsier than he did while he was in there. 

Eddie stands by his van, the notebook is tucked under his arm, his hand is cupped over the cigarette that is between his lips as he lights it up. 

“Hey!” Steve calls out to him. He stumbles through the snow. He blinks, trying to get rid of the blurriness in his eyes. 

Eddie turns around to face him, a curious look residing on his face. He blows the smoke into the other direction and leans against his van. 

“What do you want, Harrington?” 

Steve stops in front of him. The wind feels harsh on his skin, not even the thick jacket does anything to shield him from the cold. How Eddie is able to walk around with a denim jacket and not freeze to death makes him wonder.

“W-Where did you get that jacket?” He asks. Not knowing what else to ask now that he stands in front of him. 

Eddie stares at him with a serious look on his face, eyeing him up and down. “Why?” He asks. “You wanna buy it?” 

Steve furrows his brows, he shakes his head, “no?”

“Why do you wanna know?”

Steve’s mind is a little hazy, he feels more drunk than tipsy, right now. 

“You’re the stoner.”

Eddie raises his brows, his dark eyes flash with amusement and confusion, “the stoner?” He chuckles and takes another drag from his cigarette. “They usually call me a drug dealer but sure, I’m also a stoner – sometimes.” 

Steve shakes his head. “A-Are you with y/n?” 

Eddie tilts his head. “With y/n?” 

“Are you hooking up with her?” Steve asks, angrily. 

A knowing look takes over Eddie’s expression. He pulls back and sighs in annoyance. 

“Not that it’s any of your business but no, I don’t take advantage of vulnerable girls. And not everything is about sex,” he glares at him. He feels irritated by Steve and by the way he looks so confused about this revelation. 

“Then what is it about?” He slurs. Throwing his hands up. 

“Jesus, you’re a real douchebag. Is that all you think about? Sex?” He asks. “Can’t two people that like each other just be friends?” 

The look on his face tells him no. For some reason, Steve can’t comprehend that thought. How can Eddie be your friend and not want you? He always wanted you. Ever since you were little kids. He always loved you. He always wanted you to be his – until he didn’t. 

Eddie shakes his head and rolls his eyes, he throws the cigarette into the snow and walks away. The sound of Steve’s keys jingling makes him halt in his tracks though. He closes his eyes, annoyance rushes through him. He doesn’t like Steve, he never did and after what he did to you, he started liking him even less but you are his friend and you still care about him. He takes a deep breath and turns around. 

“Put those keys away, dude.”

“Huh?” Steve mumbles. Looking up in confusion. 

“You’re not driving home like that,” he says. Pointing to his drunken state, he watches Steve trip over a small pile of snow. Maybe if things were different, he would’ve laughed at him. “Get in the van, I’ll drive you home.”

Steve looks at his car, knowing he is in no state to drive himself but he refuses to get into a car with Eddie Munson. 

“I’ll walk.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you let the freak drive you home.”

It’s not about that, it’s about you. 

Steve looks at Eddie, who stares at him in annoyance. 

“Get in the car, dude. She’d kick my ass if she knew that I let you drive home like this.” 

Steve looks down for a moment. He takes a few deep breaths and nods. He puts the keys back in his pocket and opens the door, careful not to slip on the icy ground, he looks down and gets into the van. 

Eddie jumps into the driver's seat and closes the door. He throws the notebook on the windshield and puts the key into the ignition, startling Steve with the loud music when he starts the car. He scrunches his face up and turns down the volume, “shit, my bad.”

Steve’s heart is pumping in his chest, sighing, he opts to look out the window after putting the seatbelt on. 

“Your music sucks.”

“The audacity you have, Harrington,” Eddie scoffs. “Here I am being nice, inviting you into my van and you dare to insult the best music that there is!” He says dramatically.

Eddie hits the buttons, turning on the radio instead, Heroes by David Bowie starts playing, “here, just for you, King Steve.” He snorts. Not knowing that this will turn out to be a bad idea. Steve tenses up when he hears the song but Eddie doesn’t notice, he is too focused on the street as he backs out of the parking spot. 

The song takes him back to last year, back to you. 

“If you had to give us – our relationship a song, which one would it be?” You asked him as you sat on his lap. 

“A Song?" He asked, chuckling. 

You nodded with a smile on your face as you looked through your new polaroid pictures that you have taken with him in the snow. He leaned his chin on your shoulder and tightened his grip on your waist. 

“Uh– probably, Heroes.” 

“By David Bowie?” 

“Yeah.” 

You nodded, humming. For a moment, it was silent between the two of you, you placed the polaroids back on the table and turned to face him.

“Isn’t it sad though?” 

Steve shrugged, not thinking as deeply as you did. 

“He sings,” you cleared your throat and looked at him shyly. “And you, you can be mean,

and I, I'll drink all the time. 'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact. Yes we're lovers, and that is that. Though nothing will keep us together. We could steal time just for one day. We can be heroes for ever and ever. What d'you say?” 

Steve was smiling at you, his heart was fluttering in his chest and you, you were blushing by the time you were done singing. 

He poked your waist and leaned in to kiss your cheek, giving you one of his rare soft moments. “Exactly, he sings ‘we’re lovers’.”

“You are not listening to the rest of the song, Steve!” 

 “Then keep going.”

“No,” you giggled. 

“Please,” he whispered, pouting. “I love your voice.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully. You kissed his cheek and began to sing again, clearly loving the sweet moment between the two of you when he watched you with soft eyes. He cleared his throat and picked you up, laughing at the squeal that fell from your lips, he leaned in to steal a kiss before he placed your feet on the ground. He grabbed your hairbrush from your desk and held it up to his lips. 

“I, I will be king and you, you will be queen.” He sang. 

You giggled and walked backwards as he began to walk you towards your bed. 

“Though nothing will drive them away. We can be Heroes, just for one day.” He furrowed his brows as he tried to remember the rest of the lyrics. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him, “and we kissed, as though nothing could fall.” 

“You forgot the rest of the lyrics–” he cut you off with his lips on yours, kissing you passionately. He pulled your body so close against his, he could feel your heartbeat. 

Now he feels his heart breaking in his chest. 

Maybe it’s the ache in his chest, maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or maybe it’s just a combination of both that makes him break down in Eddie Munson’s van. Startling the man who was bobbing his head to the music until he heard Steve’s quiet sob. Stopping at the red light, he furrows his brows and looks over at Steve. 

“Uh– you good?” He asks. He feels a little stupid to ask him that, clearly, Steve is feeling anything but good. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel and presses his lips together. How does he comfort a man that he doesn’t even like? 

Steve cries softly, the shame isn’t there yet, right now, he doesn’t care that he is crying in front of Eddie who could tell everyone that King Steve broke down in his car while listening to David Bowie. 

“Need a tissue?” Eddie asks even though he knows he doesn’t have any in his van. 

Steve just shakes his head, clearly wanting to be left alone.

Eddie nods to himself, taking a deep breath, he sighs. Eddie knows why he is crying, it doesn’t take him long to figure it out. The moment he saw him getting drunk at the Hideout, he just knew. 

He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the drive over to Steve’s house. The music and Steve’s soft cries sound through the van. A part of Eddie pities Steve, the other part doesn’t – after all, it’s all his own fault. 

He pulls up into Steve’s driveway, still remembering the way to his house from the last party he threw back in august when he had first talked to you. He stops the car and turns down the music a little. 

“We’re here.” 

Steve nods. He wipes the tears away and he reaches for the door handle but he doesn’t leave, not yet. His eyes fall on the note lying on the floor, it must’ve slipped out from his notebook. He instantly recognizes your handwriting and his heart drops a little when he realizes that you are writing them for someone else now. It’s not affectionate or romantic, the note only says ‘good luck on the test today. Can’t wait for the milkshakes you promised!’ Next to a smiley. 

“I miss her.”

Eddie didn’t expect to hear those words from him. He leans back in his seat. 

“I-I miss her so much,” he whispers. “I-I don’t know what to do without her. I want her back.”

“You have a girlfriend, man. You left y/n for her,” Eddie mumbles. “Do you even know what you want?” 

Steve feels the bile rising in his throat. He feels sick. 

“I do now, b-but it’s too late.”

Eddie glances at him. The look of sadness and the tears are genuine and so are his words but there isn’t anything that he could say that could make Steve feel better. He doesn’t deserve you, you are too good for him and you have suffered enough to give him another chance to break you again. 

“I don’t know what you wanna hear, dude. You broke her heart and you did it in such a fucked up way too, there’s no coming back from that.”

Steve isn’t sure about what he wanted to hear but it’s definitely not that. 

“Just leave her alone, you’re only making things worse,” Eddie sighs as he thinks about you. “Go home, Steve.” 

Steve sniffles, he opens the door and nods. 

“And don’t ruin the night for her tomorrow.” 

Steve’s eyes widen, he looks at him through the tears. “She's coming?” 

Eddie nods, “yeah, her friends convinced her to come.” He can see the look in Steve’s eyes, it’s the same one he sees in your eyes. He loves you, which makes everything so much more confusing. Why did he leave you for someone else when he loves you so much? 

Steve blinks. He looks down for a moment, staring at the note that makes his heart ache. “Oh okay,” he whispers. “T-Thanks for driving me home.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, this is the most kindness he had ever shown to him. 

“Don’t mention it,” he mumbles. He narrows his eyes at him. Steve doesn’t move yet. The look on his face tells him that he wants to say more. 

“Spit it out, dude.” 

Steve looks up. Tears continue to brim in his eyes, the words are strangled in his throat. He takes a few deep breaths as he tries to stay calm. 

“T-Take care of her?” 

Eddie wants to tell him that you are capable of taking care of yourself but he decides against it. He nods. Even though he can’t understand why Steve did what he did, he can imagine the self hatred and the sadness he is feeling. A flicker of sympathy flashes in Eddie’s eyes.

“I will.”

Steve almost breaks down when he thinks of your words again, of the way you cried when you begged for him to leave, when you called him bullshit. 

He walks away when he feels like breaking down again. 

He fumbles with the keys, almost dropping them when his hands begin to shake. He manages to open the door, he steps inside and closes it. Leaning against it, he drops the floor and buries his face in his hands, a broken sob leaves his lips. 

He knows he has to let you go, the way you let him go but how? 

How? 

-

You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror. You apply the red lipstick that Chrissy convinced you to get when you stopped by the drug store after you bought the dress that you had caught your eye the last time you went shopping with them. A black, glittery dress. It’s not too tight but it’s not a wide one either, though it fits your body perfectly. The straps are thin and it has a cut on the side. You love it. It’s not something you would usually wear, you always opted for the colorful dresses but, you feel like it’s time to switch things up. 

How you let them convince you to come to the dance after all? You have no idea but the thought of spending another night filled with tears made you feel miserable. 

Heather is standing behind you with the curling iron as she finishes off the rest of your hairstyle. 

Some Christmas song is playing on the radio, the room smells like a mix of hairspray and perfume.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask as you stop applying the lipstick. 

She hums, glancing at you through your mirror. 

Heather purses her lips, she pulls the curling iron away from your hair and twists the wave. 

“Is it just me or is Chrissy being weird towards me?” 

“What do you mean?” She asks. But you can see the knowing look in her eyes, you know she – they are both not telling you something.

She runs her fingers through your hair and smooths down your waves and applies more hairspray. 

“She’s just, I don’t know. I feel like she’s keeping something from me,” you mumble. “And she seemed so sad when I agreed to go with you.” 

Heather hesitates to speak up. You can tell that she is trying to come up with a lie. 

“She’s probably just sad because she has to go with Jason Carver.”

You look down at your painted nails and nod, “yeah, I guess.”

“Which I totally get, who would want to go with him?” Heather tries to change the topic, you know she is.

“Literally no one,” you snort. “But he will probably be the new King of Hawkins High once Steve and Billy graduate and the naive freshman girls will throw themselves at him,” you say with a disgusted look on your face. 

“God, that’s a disgusting thought,” Heather says. “Let’s talk about something else – look at you,” she smirks as she leans down, placing her finger under your chin, she raises your head, “queen of Haw–”

“Don’t say that,” you groan as you tilt your head up to look at her. 

She chuckles and ruffles your hair a little. “You look amazing, now get your ass into that dress and let’s go. Maybe Munson will show up for you and steal you for a dance,” she wiggles her brows.

You roll your eyes but you can’t fight the smile off your face. 

“Shut up,” you mumble. You reach for your half finished drink. Maybe it’s not a good idea to drink alcohol but you need it, right now. You don’t plan on getting drunk, just a little tipsy to make it through the night. 

You both finish getting ready, you put your dresses on and take a few polaroid pictures in front of the fairy lights in your room. You throw a mint into your mouth and spray more perfume on yourself, hoping that your mom won’t smell the wine on you. 

She doesn’t notice it or at least, it seems like she doesn’t. She takes more pictures of you and Heather in front of the Christmas tree before you leave.

The school hall is bustling with people, loud music is playing and everything is decorated in gold, red and green colors – fitting the Christmas season. Your arm is linked with Heather’s. She seems excited, you feel overwhelmed.

The lights are flashing, girls in colorful dresses rush past you with their dates. You look around, trying to spot Chrissy but you don’t see her anywhere. You sigh, the first few minutes of a big event are always the most awkward ones. 

Where do you stand? Where do you sit? Who do you talk to? Is it too early to dance? Is it too early to leave? 

“Hey, are you okay?” Heather asks. 

You nod, smiling at her. 

“You seem a little overwhelmed.” 

“I’m fine, I-I just need something to drink.” 

“A drink?” A deeper voice asks. One that instantly makes you roll your eyes. 

Billy steps in front of you with a smirk on his face, he eyes you up and down before he looks over at Heather, checking her out as well. He is wearing a tux, the button down underneath the jacket is almost fully unbuttoned. 

“You look slutty, Billy.” You joke, “you’re lucky Mrs. Myers isn’t around or you’d be sent home for violating the dress code.” 

He chuckles darkly, leaning closer to you, he holds up one finger, “the slutty look is exactly what I was going for.” 

“As always,” you snort.  

“Do you wanna dance?” Billy asks you. 

“No thanks but Heather wants to dance.”

She turns to you with wide eyes and red cheeks.

“I know you want to,” you whisper into her ear before you pull away and place her hand into Billy’s, who smirks at you. 

“I’ll drown you in the punch if you don’t treat her well.” 

He only laughs in amusement, clearly not taking the threat seriously. 

“Y/n?” Heather glares at you. 

“Have fun, babe.” 

You know all about her not so secret crush on Billy – she is good at hiding it but you saw right through it. 

You make your way over to the snack table. Waving at some of the girls from the cheer squad who are taking pictures with their dates. 

A huge bowl is in the middle of the table, filled with red liquid and fresh fruit. You wonder if someone spiked it with alcohol yet. You pour some of it into a cup and take a sip. Definitely spiked. You down the rest of the drink and pour yourself a second cup. 

“Hey.”

You freeze. You stare down at your drink. Yeah, you definitely need the alcohol tonight. You haven’t talked to him since that night, you sat next to him during English class today and you had submitted the essay together but you didn’t talk and you hoped that it would stay that way. You didn’t want to talk to him anymore. 

“Careful with the punch, Tommy spiked it.”

You turn around to face him, his eyes widen a little when he takes in the sight of you. He looks you up and down, not in the same way Billy did but in a way that leaves your skin crawling and your heart racing. 

He is wearing a black tuxedo with a red bow tie. His hair looks amazing as always but his eyes are filled with sadness. 

“Good,” you mumble as you drink the spiked punch. 

“Y-You look beautiful,” Steve says. His heart flutters, you steal his breath away. The dark eyeshadow makes your eye color more prominent. Your red lips look so kissable and the dress looks like it was made for you. You are perfect.

“Where’s your girlfriend, Steve?” You sigh. You refuse to look into his eyes, knowing that it will only make things worse. 

He blinks, furrowing his brows. He looks over your shoulder to where she’s standing with Jonathan, smiling at him. “She’s uh–” he stops talking when he sees you walking away. He sighs, clenching his hand into a fist, “shit..”

You already feel like going home – you knew you would run into him, you still weren’t prepared, you never are. You are sick of the feeling he leaves you with whenever you see him. You are so over it. 

You take a seat at your assigned table and look around, finally spotting Chrissy in the crowd. She’s dancing with Jason, you can see the forced smile even from a mile away. 

You can’t stand him. You always hated the way he treats others – the way he thinks that he is so much better than everyone else and the way he thinks he can have anyone he wants. The way he uses Mrs. Cunningham’s liking towards him to force himself into Chrissy’s life, knowing that she doesn’t actually like him. 

You relax a little when you see Heather heading towards Chrissy, pulling her away from Jason so that they can dance together. You lean back in the chair and sip on your drink. 

You wish you would have stayed at home. 

You wish you would have listened to Eddie when he said that this sucks. 

You feel like a loser, sitting by yourself at this empty table, sipping one drink after the other as your eyes continuously move back to him. You see him with her and it breaks your heart all over again. By now, you should be used to it and you were – you have gotten used to this. To him not being yours anymore, to him loving someone else, to him being with someone else but then he turned everything upside down.

His confession left you in shambles. He had broken everything, again. All the strength you have gathered since the day he left you, he took it all away from you with a few words and a kiss that almost happened. 

He loves you, that’s what he said. But he is here, holding her in his arms, kissing her as though he didn’t try to kiss you, two nights ago. He is dancing with her, whispering things into her and holding her tightly. 

None of it makes sense to you. 

If he loves you so much, then why is he dancing with her as though nothing ever happened? 

Why is he still with her? 

Is she a rebound now or were you just the backup plan all along? 

The girl he’d come back to once things with her go downhill? 

Are they already going downhill? 

Is that why he told you he still loves you? 

So that he has someone to come back to? 

You feel so miserable. The longer you stare at him. You begin to feel worse and worse. 

Not even a dance with your friends helps you lift your mood. Not even the compliments and the nice things that people have said to you tonight, make you feel better. Nothing makes you feel better but you force a smile on your face, a happy one. The way you always do and you dance with Heather and Chrissy, holding their hands and pretending to have the time of your life when all you wanna do is go home and cry yourself to sleep. 

It’s when you find yourself sitting on the bleachers with a sad expression on your face, ready to say ‘fuck it’ and go home, that your night takes a turn for the better. 

You don’t hear the footsteps coming your way, you are too busy looking at all the happy couples. Someone clears their throat. 

“May the Master of Dungeons have a dance with the ethereal Queen of Hawkins High?” 

Your eyes widen and a smile tugs at your lips, you straighten up and turn to look at Eddie who playfully bows in front of you with a smile on his face, getting a few weird looks from the other, which neither of you care about.

A giggle falls from your lips, “Eddie!”

“Come on, give me your hand, Queen.”

You laugh and place your hand in his. He pulls you up and smiles at you when your eyes lock. “Look at you,” he beams. He raises your hand over your head, “give me a twirl,” he winks. 

You roll your eyes, playfully. Giving him the twirl that he asked for, you can’t help but giggle when he begins to whistle. 

“You look beautiful, sweetheart!” 

He grabs your waist when you stumble a little. He instantly smells the alcohol on you. 

“Thank you, Eddie.” 

He eyes you with a smile on his face, “love the smokey eyes and the dress – honestly, you look like a witchy fairy.” 

“A witchy fairy?” You laugh, tilting your head. 

He puts his hand over his heart, “I mean that as a compliment – a badass witchy, fairy, shit, I’m gonna have to create a character based on you now.” 

You shake your head, laughing at the concentrated look on his face. He is wearing a white button down, a few buttons are left undone, one of his tattoos is peeking out from beneath the shirt, and a silver chain is around his neck. His curly hair looks as good as always. 

“You look amazing, Eddie.”

He raises his brows in surprise, his dark eyes light up. 

“Thank you, badass fairy witch,” he winks. “Look, I stole these pants from Wayne, I have none without holes in them,” he laughs, pointing to the black pants he is wearing.

You can’t even help but giggle. 

“I thought this isn’t your thing,” you say. Gesturing to the dance. 

He shrugs, “yeah well, I thought you could use a dance partner.”

Your gaze softens. A feeling of warmth and comfort rushes through you. “You came for me?” 

He holds your hand tighter, “who else would I come here for?” He asks as he looks into your big eyes. 

“My knight in shining armor,” you tease. 

He snorts at your words, “come on.” He says as he pushes you in front of him and leads you into the middle of the dance floor, pushing some jock out of the way. You can feel the eyes on you, you can see the weird looks from the cheerleaders when they see you with Eddie. It only makes you scoff at them. 

A squeal leaves your lips when Eddie suddenly twirls you again, laughing when you hold onto his hand tightly. He wraps his arms around you from behind and leans in, “let me guess, you had some of that spiked punch?” He whispers into your ear. 

"Absolutely,” you giggle and turn around to face him. You place your hands on his shoulders. 

“Bad girl,” he smirks, tapping your nose.

“I learned from the best.” You tap his nose back, making him laugh. 

Steve watches you and Eddie with an irritated look on his face. You seem so carefree and happy with him. So familiar. Like you have known each other for a long time already. You melt into his touch so easily and laugh at whatever he is whispering into your ear. 

The feeling in his chest is sickening. He knows it’s jealousy. He can’t do anything about it though. The girl in his arms is his, you aren’t – not anymore.

Every breath you take by The Police starts playing. Some leave the dance floor, some stay to slow dance with their partner. Steve pulls Nancy closer and looks over her shoulder to see what you will do. 

Eddie pulls you closer and you wrap your arms around him, you lay your head on his chest, melting into him so easily. It breaks Steve’s heart a little. He feels tense, it’s hard to see you with someone else, even when Eddie said that there is nothing but friendship between the two of you, it certainly looks more than just that to Steve.

You don’t even notice the weird looks you are getting from the people around you. You are only focused on him. The thought of you and Eddie somehow hurts more than the thought of you and Billy. Because Billy would be nothing more than a hookup but Eddie? Eddie is a good guy, one who will treat you well and love you the way he couldn’t.

“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks as she lifts her head to look at him. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles with a frown on his face. “Why?”

Her blue eyes are filled with confusion, she shrugs, “you seem tense.”

“I’m fine, Nance,” he says, softly. 

“Okay,” she smiles. 

When she lays her head on his chest, he squeezes her and looks back up. His breath hitches in his throat when his eyes lock with yours as you rest your chin on Eddie’s shoulder, who’s back is turned towards him. For a moment, you look at each other. Steve’s heart begins to beat faster in his chest, the longer you look at each other. He longs for you. This, all of this, feels so wrong. He shouldn’t be here with her and you shouldn’t be there with him. 

But while his eyes soften, your eyes harden. 

His are filled with longing and sadness. 

Yours are filled with indifference. 

You look at each other for a few long seconds and then you take one final look at him before you tear your eyes away from him. Somehow, that felt like a stab to his heart because that moment felt like the end. The realization that it is truly over makes his blood run cold. He feels paralyzed by the pain that he had caused himself. 

Eddie tightens his hold on you when he feels how tense you are, he looks down at you with a look of concern in his eyes.

“Do you want to get out of here?” 

"Yes, please." 

next part

only tagging friends & mutuals

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @screammunson @hellfire--cult @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can

[kyeomofhearts]

Again & Again | C.SC

+ summary: you caved in and fucked your best friend, but it was only a one-time thing… right?

+ pairing: scoups x fem!reader

+ word count: 2.5k

+ content: fwb!, chubby reader (love ya'll), friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, mutual pining, pussy drunk cheol, size kink, angst, fluff

Part 1, Part 2

+ WARNINGS: smut, dom!seungcheol, sub!reader, rough sex, praise?, sizekink, creampie, pls lmk if I missed anything

🫧 Hey! I saw you guys enjoyed the first part (im still shocked) and I immediately started writing part two!!! I hope it holds up to the first part :D

It had been a total of three months since you and Seungcheol had become regular fuck buddies. And boy did you love it.

“Fuck-” you moaned out while Seungcheol abused your hole.

Seungcheol snaked his hands down to your waist to angle himself better. You clenched down on his cock, making him use more of his strength to squeeze through.

“God you’re so tight,” Seungcheol grunted out.

Even with Cheol abusing your sensitive cunt, you managed to voice out a small, “Just for you.”

His hips faltered for a second.

What you didn’t know was that Seungcheol had been having issues with the arrangement he came up with between the two of you. (Just never made you aware of them)

Seungcheol wanted more, to be more than just friends with you. And whenever you said things like this, it made him feel worse about his feelings towards you. But he hadn't gathered up the balls to actually confess to you, scared of ruining your arrangement (friendship too).

He brushed it off and continued with his brutal pace.

Maybe if he continued to fuck your brains out he would be able to distract himself from his ever-growing feelings for you.

Seungcheol was nearing his release and by the way you were getting tighter, you were close too. He managed to get out a strained, "Where do want me?"

"Anywhere-"

Cheol didn't like this answer. So he stopped altogether, making you cry in frustration. He didn't care, even if he was preventing his own release too.

"Where do you want me?" This time he said it with a harsher tone, as if he was reprimanding you.

"Inside please," saying in between sobs.

"Wasn't that hard?" He said in a mocking tone. There was something about you crying that made him feel exhilarated.

You were about to respond until you felt your breath knocked out of your lungs.

His thrusts were slow but powerful, it almost felt like he was puncturing into you.

He began to speed up his thrusts to match the pace he had originally been at before stopping.

"Cheol please-"

"Please what?" His eyes were filled with lust and a touch of amusement. He loved teasing you.

"Please let me cum" You were being greedy, you knew that. But you just couldn't help it when his pace was driving you over the edge again.

He laughed at how needy you were getting, but he couldn't blame you. He knew you were trying your best to hold your orgasm off but he wanted to break you, make you cry even more.

So that's exactly what he did, grabbing the vibrator beside your writhing form. He placed it directly on your already sensitive bud and turned it on its highest setting. There was an evil glint in his eye, watching you spasm at the feeling of the vibrator.

It was no surprise that you came not even a minute later.

Now having you cum for the nth time this night, he decided to chase his own release. It wasn't that far away, just a few more thrusts and he would be in cloud nine.

"You always take me so well." He said with a final thrust.

Seungcheol was in love with you the way your cunt took his cock, as if it was made for him and only him. It didn't help that even after being overstimulated, you still took everything he gave you.

He shortly dumped his hot load inside you, filling you to the brim.

Spent, Seungcheol simply dropped his body on top of yours, engulfing you with his weight. It stayed like that for a minute until he regained his composure. He still needed to clean you up after all.

Slowly, he pulled out his softening member, ignoring your cute protests.

"I'll be back love," he said while pressing a few small kisses on your forehead and cheeks. And just like that he left to the bathroom.

He didn't take long though, coming back as soon as he had cleaned himself up. Even after long sessions, Seungcheol always made it his mission to give you the best aftercare.

The two of you were slowly drifting to sleep... until your phone started ringing. Irritated you grabbed your phone to see who was calling.

Your coworker? Why are they calling you at 10 pm?

"Hello?" Even though you were annoyed, you tried your best at hiding it.

"y/n! I'm so sorry to wake you up, but Mr. Jung said we have to come in at 7 to fix our project-"

"What?!" Now you were actually irritated, 7 was way too early considering you usually come in at 10 am.

"I know! But he was so mad because one of the higher-ups didn't like our design so he wants us to fix it before 10." Your coworker wasn't pleased with the news either.

"Okay well... I'll see you at 7 I guess... bye."

You hung up shortly after. It was disappointing, really. You wanted to stay the night at Cheol's, like you usually do. So you mentally prepared yourself to go back to your apartment.

"So... what was that about?" Seungcheol's eyes were heavy, he was ready to pass out.

"I have to go in early tomorrow, I can't stay the night Cheol," you gave him the saddest look you could.

"No! Please just stay tonight, I'll drive you in the morning." Ugh, he was giving you those puppy eyes. How could a grown man give you puppy eyes and actually have it work on you? But this was odd, he never got this clingy after sex.

As much as you wanted to stay and sleep next to him... you couldn't especially considering everything you need is at your apartment.

"Cheol, I can't... I literally left everything at my place." Now was your turn to give him puppy eyes.

He looked annoyed. It made sense though, he just wanted to go to sleep with you and now he had to sleep by himself tonight.

He huffed out in annoyance, "Then let me drive you back home. It's too late to go by yourself."

Before you could put up a fight, he was already putting his clothes back on. If you couldn't beat him, might as well join him in getting ready.

Once you reached the door to your apartment, you turned to look at him. His face was so kissable but you knew that was off limits considering that the two of you weren't dating.

"Thank you for walking with me, I know you didn't have to but I really appreciate it Cheol" You commented while opting to give him a side hug.

With tired eyes, he managed to get out a small, "Anything for you."

And there it was again. 'Anything for you' 'Everything for you'. Every time he said those words to you... it made you feel like he actually meant it. He was just being nice to you because he was your best friend who you fucked on almost a daily basis.

As much as you have enjoyed these past three months with Seungcheol. There would be some parts to it that made it difficult to enjoy like... whenever he treated you like his girlfriend. It's not like you didn't like it, but you were just scared to pursue more. What if he didn't see you that way?

Just as he was going to turn away to head back to his car, you quickly asked him to stay the night with you.

"It's just because you are already tired and it's not like you haven't slept over before..."

His eyes widened at your invitation. He definitely was not expecting you to let him sleepover. But who cares, at least he gets to sleep with you tonight like he was supposed to.

"Of course. who am I to say no to you," He responded with a warm smile.

God, he just had to be a romantic!

Well, at least you weren't sleeping alone now. Since it was getting colder now, he was becoming your personal heater at night.

Within five minutes of settling into your apartment, Seungcheol started to whine at you to come to bed.

And who were you to say no to him?

You woke up to your alarm blaring at you.

5:30 am

Ugh. Today was not going to be it, you could feel it.

The morning air was cold as ice. You knew that it was going to be insanely difficult to get out of bed when you had your personal heater right next to y-

And just as you turned to the side Seungcheol had slept on... it was cold and empty.

Maybe he went to the bathroom. There's no way he already left. He would have at least woken you up to say goodbye or something.

Well, either way, you had to start getting ready for work. Even if these were ungodly hours for you.

Weird. He wasn't in the bathroom. Oh well, you thought.

He did have a key to your place so at least he was able to lock the door if he left.

After some time of getting ready, you decided to eat something light. That was until you saw a whole feast waiting for you on your counter.

It wasn't actually a feast per se, you were just being over dramatic. But it was certainly a lot more food than you normally eat in the morning.

It would have been better if Seungcheol was here though.

When you examined the food up close you found a note on top of it.

I had to leave early :( but I didn't want to wake you up. And I know your ass doesn't eat in the morning, so I made you something. I hope you enjoy it, love.

-your amazing best friend ♡

See! There it was again.

How were you supposed to suppress your ever-growing feelings for him when he always did things like this??

What made it worse was that the delusional part of your brain was feeding into the possibilities of you and Cheol ending up together. It's not completely unreasonable right? He calls you love, he always wants to be near you, and you guys practically fuck daily. Those had to be signs... at least you hoped they were.

It really was wishful thinking.

You would have thought of more instances but a distinct buzz lured you out of your trance.

It was Jeonghan.

From: Yoonzino

Slut don't forget about my party tonight.

Sent at 6:21 am

Fuck. You forgot about that.

Why today out of all days?

Not only do you have to go in early for work but you also have to go to the party.

You were for sure going to be drained considering that you were still working your full work day PLUS the extra three hours.

No, don't think like this. Try to be more positive. You're hanging out with friends, if anything you can always leave early if you explain to them that you had a long day.

Speaking of work, you should definitely start heading out before it gets too late. Who knows what your team lead has in store for you.

Jeonghan's party arrived rather quickly.

Work hadn't been too bad either. Mr. Jung, your team lead, fortunately, didn't give you and your coworkers an earful since he knew that it had been his fault for not properly reviewing the team's design.

With that in mind, you were in a pretty good mood. Good enough for you to want to go to Jeonghan's party.

You also hadn't seen the guys in a really long time, okay maybe not that long but still! You were excited to finally have a reason to dress up and have some fun.

From: Cheollie

Do you want me to come over and pick you up?

Sent at 6:18 pm

Oh?

You thought he was already at the party? He was one of the guys in charge of setting up.

From: You

Aren't you already there??

Sent at 6:20 pm

Well... If he was willing to drive to your place to pick you up then you weren't going to complain. If anything that would let you drink to your heart's desires.

From: Cheollie

Yeah but I can still pick you up

Plus I want to be the first one to see you

sent at 6:22 pm

Ugh, why were you so excited? He probably does this for everyone, it's nothing crazy. Yet, you couldn't help but feel giddy at the thought of him.

From: You

Ofc now I have a reason to drink <3

I just need a few more minutes to get ready tho

Sent at 6:26 pm

Crap. You had to hurry up before he came over-

Knock! Knock! Knock!

And just like that he opened your bedroom door.

…

What the actual fuck. There was absolutely no way. He just sent you that message not even five minutes ago!

The look of surprise on your face made him burst out in laughter.

“What?” He managed to get out between giggles.

The audacity of this man. You playfully shoved him when he got closer to you.

“Were you in my house when you sent that text?!”

This pushed him even more and he could. not. stop. laughing.

You couldn’t lie though, his laugher was contagious. You tried (and failed) suppressing the smile he was bringing towards your face.

Eventually, he was able to come down from his oh-so-funny laughing fit.

“Both yes and no. I was already on my way when I asked you and when you said yes… I simply let myself in.”

Huh. You keep forgetting you gave him a key to your apartment.

You huffed out in slight chagrin. “Okay, well, I still need to finish getting ready… I’ll try to be quick okay?”

"No problem, princess"

Heat immediately rushed to your face. God, you hated when he used those condescending pet names, he knew what they did to you.

No, absolutely not. Jeonghan would kill both you and Seungcheol for being late. It also might raise suspicions that something is going on between the two of you, which to be fair, there is. But they don't need to know that.

And just like that, you escaped into the safety of your bathroom, making Seungcheol let out a soft laugh.

God did he love you.

Wait.

He can't be thinking like this, especially not when you were in the other room. But it always did amaze him how he made it this far without doing something incredibly reckless. Some nights he wanted to profess his undying love to you, but he always chickened out last minute.

Maybe he should make a move, one of these days. Before it was too late.

Part: III

&lt;;3 Taglist besties: @yuyusbunny @aaniag @egonscarif