#pm replies to opposition

[chr0llossexygf]

IN RUINS

PAIRING: spencer reid x fem reader

SUMMARY: spencer reid has always had something against you. during a particular case, spencer snaps and says something he shouldn’t have said leaving you in ruins. but what happens when your in danger and he still hasn’t explained why he reacted the way he did. will he have the time?

“ what happened?” hotch says standing infront of the big white board that had some very gruesome pictures of 5 victims splayed out on a park bench. he’s standing tall and strong with his hands crossed in his dark grey suit. he’s looking at you and spencer, who’s walking in right behind you slamming the door close.

“ It’s her fault.” spencer says quickly moving to the other side of the room opposite you, trying to get as far away from you as possible.

you take a deep breath in trying your absolute hardest not to roll your eyes and cross your hands in annoyance and disappointment. “ it’s not my fault reid-”

“ woah woah what the heck happened?” morgan says pushing himself back in the precinct chair watching you and spencer. he looks at spencer, he sees the strong look of disgust and annoyance spencer is shooting at you. he looks at you, he notices you looking at spencer with a disappointed look.

“ she told the unsubs family we are after the unsub-” spencer spits out looking over at hotch, waiting for him to yell at you or lecture you.

“ wait spence we don’t even know who the unsub is. what do you mean?” jj says turning her head to look at spencer confusion written on her face. “ exactly! thank you jj!” you reply throwing your hands up.

“ michael miller is our unsub hotch.” spencer says completely ignoring your attempt to reason with him, his eyes stay on hotch waiting for him to snap at you or just lecture you. “ wait a minute i thought michael miller had a solid alibi.” morgan says laying back in his chair resting his arms on the arm rests. “ he does have a solid alibi it checks out-” spencer cuts you off. “ it does not check out!” spencer says.

“ yes it does! hotch we asked his dad who confirmed his son came home at 8:30 pm from football practice.” you say growing impatient looking at hotch, hotch’s eyebrows are furrowed tightly. his arms are still crossed listening to you and spencer bicker back and fourth.

“ just because his dad showed the tiniest bit of concern about his son when the fbi showed up to his doorstep does not make him a reliable source, just because you never had a dad who showed any bit of concern and now when you finally see a dad care about their kid does not mean you should not fall into their trap just because you never had a trap to fall into.” spencer spits out finally looking at you.

he watches as your expression hardens. he watches as humiliation and embarrassment fill your once determined eyes, the determined eyes who tried to reason with spencer at-least 4 minutes ago. 4 minutes, that’s how long it takes for your perspective of someone to change. he watches as your eyebrows tremble, a habit you have when your trying to fight back tears. he watches as your throat trembles too, probably trying to fight back that agonising choke you get when your about to cry.

the entire room goes quiet. spencers gaze remains on you, slowly watching your soul shatter because of his words. your gaze remains on spencer, slowly feeling your soul shatter because of his words.

the door that spencer slammed close 4 minutes ago opens, rossi and emily walking in. “ michael millers alibi checks out. we’ve got pictures of him at football practice from 5pm to 8:25pm. he wouldn’t have had the time to commit the murders.” rossi says opening the door for emily. “ also his teammates described him as an extrovert and outgoing which is not what we profiled the unsub to be.” emily says with her hands inside her pockets nodding looking at everyone surrounding the table.

“ i feel as though we interrupted something.” rossi says eyeing everyone in the room raising an eyebrow in confusion. he could feel the tension. emily could too. which is why she immediately looks over at morgan for answers. morgan looks at her for a split second before returning his gaze on you.

“ y/n-” spencer attempts. he tries to bring himself to take a step towards you, but it’s like his words somehow built a barrier between you and him that he now can’t even physically cross. or maybe he’s just scared that if he takes a step towards you, you’ll take a step back. away from him.

you swallow the gut wrenching feeling of tears crawling up your throat. you look down to your converse. “ i’m gonna go…uhm get coffee.” you say turning around immediately walking towards the door. “ excuse me.” you whisper pushing past rossi and emily.

“ oh wonder boy..” garcia says through the tv screen, her bright purple tinted lips which usually wear a bright smile on her face now wearing a frown. her tone disappointed as she presses her heart eye fuzzy emoji pen into her cheek. “ i uhm did my usual background checking on the uhm..list of potential unsubs and a uhm…scott anderson has a sketchy background. i’ve just sent his file to you my pretties.” garcia says stuttering quite a few times finding it hard to sneak her usually bubbly nicknames into the conversation after what had just happened. “ thank you garcia. jj take y/n and check out scott anderson.” hotch says looking at jj his arms finally by his side.

jj nods standing up walking towards the door “ i-i can go” spencer says turning his body towards jj. “ stay.” hotch replies his voice stern and bold. he looks at spencer his eyebrows furrowed.

jj closes the door. “ sit.” hotch says to spencer pointing to the empty seat at the table, spencer slowly walks towards the seat sitting down. “ you shouldn’t have said that spencer.” hotch says crossing his hands. “ hotch-” spencer attempts but is quickly cut off, “ i’m not finished. I get it. your worried spencer. your scared-”

“ hotch-” spencer is cut off once again. “ you may think your hiding it well spencer but your not. we know the unsub is targeting female victims which have similar features to l/n. if your too close to the case spencer-” it’s spencer’s turn to now cut hotch off. “ but i’m not too close to the case hotch!” spencer replies. he wanted the similarities between you and the victims to only be in his head because he wanted only him, himself to notice the similarities between you and the victims. you both have the same hair color, hair length, both considered to be attractive, both have similar personalities, and similar taste in clothing. he didn’t want it to be true. but now he knows that they are, and they’re not just in his head he’s even more worried.

“ your stuttering spencer. you do that when your worried or nervous.” emily says pulling a chair from the table. spencer shoots his eyes away from hotch to emily’s. his gaze softens a bit, emily’s tone wasn’t like hotchs. it wasn’t as stern or bold. it was rather understanding and gentle. “ i just cant control myself around her.” spencer says looking down at the picture of the fourth victim who had been wearing the exact same pair of converse your wearing now. “ well your going to have to learn how to control yourself pretty boy. you shouldn’t have said that.” morgan says looking at spencer. spencer sighs hiding his face in his hands. “ i just..god i’m so stupid.” spencer groans rubbing his tired eyes.

“ stupidity is what ended my third marriage.” rossi says crossing his hands leaning against the bulletin board with a small chuckle, morgan looks at rossi and laughs. “ well thank god pretty boy isn’t married. he’d be the new rossi.” morgan says tilting his head to the side looking at spencer trying to lighten the mood, spencer who still has his head in his hands. there’s a million thoughts going through his head, all of them are about you. all of them are about how he should apologize. is he even allowed to apologize? will you let him apologize to you? would you accept his apology? what if you didn’t? did he just ruin his friendship with you? no screw friendship, he doesn’t just want to be friends. he wouldn’t be as sensitive as he is to this case if he just wanted to remain friends. he’s in love with you. spencer reid is in love with you. and he just potentially ruined any slight chance of ever having you know that he loves you. just because he’s stupid and didn’t think before he spoke.

“ are you okay?” jj says both hands on the steering wheel turning around to look at you next to her, in the passenger seat. your heads turnt towards the window, your picking at your nails. a habit of yours. you turn to look at jj and nod. “ yeah i’m fine why wouldn’t i be?” you ask tilting your head to the side with a confusing smile. you know exactly why your not okay. but for some reason, you just can’t bring yourself to actually be upset over it. what’s there to be upset about? what spencer said is true. he’s not wrong. why are you making excuses for him? what he said was not okay. totally not okay. why do you have to make excuses for every male figure in your life for when they’ve done something wrong? why do you always make them the victim and you the villain. you just don’t wanna lose them right? because you know that if your the victim and their the villain they’ll never apologise and the entire relationship will disappear, it always does.

“ what spencer said-” jj is talking in that tone, that tone that she would speak in whenever something was wrong. in a motherly kind of tone. you immediately shake your head, “ it’s- it’s fine jj really, i don’t care. can we just please forget it ever happened? lets just work on the case.” you say running a hand through your hair biting your lower lip trying to stop your voice from trembling, you know when your about to cry and you have that heavy feeling in your throat? you swallow it hard. you turn your head to look at the window not waiting for a response from jj. jj clears her throat, “ no yeah of course.” she nods smiling turning her head back around.

“ this should be it…” jj mumbles stopping the car, parked infront of a 2 story cabin. you unbuckle your seatbelt and open the car door. “ it looks like no one’s home, there’s no car. we profiled that the unsub would have a van or a truck..” jj says closing the car door looking at the house. “ maybe he wouldn’t leave something so valuable to him outside, to the eye of the public. he’s possessive he thinks the entire world revolves around him he probably thinks someone would try to steal it.” you reply reaching in your pocket for your id. jj doing the same thing. you two walk to the front door, you in the front,

you knock on the door. you put your hand against your hip waiting for the door to open. “ we should ask the neighbours. maybe they’ll know-” you knock on the door again. “ scott anderson. fbi.” you say knocking on the door again. jj puts both of her hands on her waist. “ looks like he’s not home-” your cut off by the door swinging open.

you immediately turn your head around. “ scott anderson?” you ask looking at the man infront of you. you know it’s scott anderson, penelope had already sent his id picture on the drive over. he looks at you, then looks at jj. “ who are you..” he says looking directly at jj. “ i’m agent l/n with the fbi and this is agent jareau. do you mind if we come inside?” you ask smiling holding up your id.

he doesn’t even bother looking at your id. “ yeah whatever.” he moves to the side, making room for you and jj. you nod turning around to look at jj. she nods. you step inside jj following you.

“ do you live alone?” you ask analysing the house, its organised. weird for someone that’s his age. “ uhm yeah i do. what’s wrong with that?” he asks crossing his hands. you chuckle, “ no no nothings wrong with that, i also lived alone when i was 17.” you reply smiling. “ i’m 19.” he says looking at you, eyeing you up and down smiling. “ your pretty organised for a 19 year old.” jj says raising an eyebrow also crossing her hands smiling. “ guess i was just raised that way.” he replies rubbing his lips together. you nod. “ how were you raised scott..if you don’t mind me asking.” you say looking around the house. “ yeah scott how did you manage to score such a house at your age. do you work?” jj asks grabbing a picture frame. “ no i don’t work-” he turns to look at jj. “ put that down.” he snaps speed walking to jj. you immediately reach for your gun.

“ right..sorry. you don’t like people touching your stuff.” jj replies throwing her hands up in defeat. he snatches the picture frame. he grabs it caressing it gently, jj looks at you with wide eyes. you raise an eyebrow in confusion. “ scott. why do you have a picture of my colleague framed?” jj asks looking at the frame scott’s holding. your eyes widen.

“ oh god oh god. where’s y/n and jj?” penelope says aggressively tapping on her keyboard. “ what? what’s wrong?” spencer is the first to respond shooting up from the office chair just at the mention of your name. “ they’re at scott anderson’s why?” hotch says turning around, away from the white board to the tv. garcia starts tearing up, “ i-i did some deep digging and scott anderson has a blog about y/n..” garcia says in a shaky tone. no. no. no. no. no not again please.

his heart stopped for a split second. his hand start sweating. the air has been sucked out of his lungs. why is it so hard to breathe? why is there no air to breathe? there’s a million thoughts running through his head, they’re still about you. but now they’re worse. your in danger. your with the unsub. the unsub who has already killed five people. your in the same house with the unsub. the unsub who has a blog dedicated to you. and the last time you saw spencer you were teary eyed. no it can’t be the last time. no. please be safe.

his sweaty shaky hands reach for his phone. he clicks on your contact. hotch grabs his phone and immediately calls jj. spencer immediately puts the phone up against his ear. it rings. rossi and emily immediately stand up, “ penelope send us the address to scott’s house now.” emily says walking to the door. it’s still ringing. spencer starts biting his nails. his hearts pounding. the ringing of the phone case is haunting him. what is happening on the other side of the phone. why aren’t you answering. you always answer the phone. why is it still ringing? y/n why aren’t you answering.

“ god damn it!” spencer shouts into the phone as it keeps ringing. morgan stands up, “ hotch we gotta go.” he says standing up shoving his phone into his pocket.

the ringing stops. spencer’s heart stops. his breathing stops. everyone in the room looks at spencer waiting for any kind of confirmation. “ y/n you’ve gotta get out of there with jj!” spencer says stuttering with a shaky voice. hes scared. hes so so scared. hes never been more scared in his life. it’s quiet. why is it quiet? why aren’t you answering? what’s wrong. god y/n.

“ hey mom.” you reply. spencer takes a deep breath in. he stops biting his nails. he wipes his wet fingers on his pants. his hearts racing. your in danger. why are you calling him mom if your not in danger. oh god. he feels like he can’t breathe again. he can’t focus. he can’t do this. he can’t do this. he can’t do this without you. breathe spencer. she’s in danger spencer. she’s all that matters.

“ y/n. god i…” he chokes. “ you already figured it out didn’t you.” he says his throat feeling scratchy. he hears you giggle on the other side of the phone, your laugh erupts the butterflies in his stomach. under any other circumstances he would absolutely hate the butterflies in his stomach and would be mad at you for making him feel such way. but now they bring a sense of comfort, they make him feel normal for a split second. that this is not that big of a deal, he’s just calling the girl he really likes and he got butterflies from hearing her beautiful laughs.

“ yeah of course. i called aunt lizzie for her birthday mom i’m not stupid.” you respond. god your voice is so beautiful, but he can hear it. he can fear the slight fear in your voice. maybe other people wouldn’t hear it, but he can. spencer can. and it’s killing him. it’s tearing his heart apart. it’s making his legs shake. “ d-did he hurt you- is he gonna hurt you?” spencer says gripping his jeans tightly. he hears you laugh again, “ yeah mom.” you say.

he feels his legs going weak.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[6:31 pm]

You were giggling hard, arms moving to deflect every oncoming gentle jab and poke from Jeno. You didn't know how you had gotten here, caged beneath Jeno as he smiled while watching you squirm and laugh beneath him. A few minutes ago you had been making the bed together and you had accidentally tossed a pillow too hard to Jeno's side. The toss had turned into him throwing the pillow back, that had become a pillow fight, and at some point the pillows had been abandoned in favor of using his hands. The sheets had long been messed up and laid in a tangled heap beneath the both of you.

"Jeno! Stop! I can't breathe!" You managed to get out through your breathless laughter.

"You started this!" Jeno laughed, his fingers poked into your sides. His clenched his fists, lightly hitting you on your arms while you swatted each light hit of his fists away from you.

You wriggled away from his touch, laughing and breathing a sigh of relief once you were out of his reach. "No more!" You smile, beginning to stand from the bed.

Jeno reaches for you again, wanting more than anything to have you in his arms again, to laugh with you and make good memories. However, Jeno grabs your waist just as extend your legs, only to have your legs be tangled in the mess of fabric.

Your eyes widen with a surprised yelp escaping your throat as you begin falling. Unfortunately for you and Jeno, his hold on you isn't solid enough to keep you upright and the sheets around your ankles make you fall forward with more momentum than you'd thought.

You land on the floor with a loud thump and a hiss of pain. Jeno is off the bed and at your side in a second, looking you over for any injuries. Your eyes are wide, still in shock from your fall, "you pushed me!"

Jeno's eyes widen and his jaw drops, "baby, I would never! I was trying to pull you back to bed and you fell!"

"Then how did I fall forward if you were trying to pull me in the opposite direction?" You question with an arched brow, wincing as Jeno gently prods your ankle.

"Sorry, love, I promise, I was trying to pull you back. I wouldn't hurt you," Jeno pouts.

"You were trying to pull me back to fight. I know you. Now my ankle hurts."

"I wanted to cuddle, you said stop so I listened," Jeno replies, scooping you into his strong arms to place you on the bed once more, "I'm going to go get you some ice. Don't move"

Jeno leaves the room and returns in under two minutes. He presses a bag of ice to your ankle while placing one of the throw pillows beneath your foot. He sits beside you, hand lightly grasping yours, "I'm sorry you got hurt."

You wave him off, "I believe you wouldn't push me. I was being dramatic and I was just surprised that I fell."

"Well, I'm never doing it again. No more play fighting for us."

You shake your head, "no... that means I can fight you and win since you won't fight back."

Jeno only sighs with a roll of his eyes, fixing the ice on your ankle before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

[lay-z]

Kinda kinky, but made it domestic and fluffy. (I guess, idk...) Also, very long for some reason, sorry. MINORS, DNI! 18+ !!! Pairing: F!Reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley Warnings/Info: Established relationship; domesticity; fluff; consensual smut; masturbation kink; praise kink; some dirty talk; explicit language; cussing

It's Friday evening, barely past 8 pm, inside your apartment in the private 141 apartment complex on base.

After a late dinner – homemade lasagna with fresh ingredients, because you always thrive to get something proper other than MRE's into Simon's and your own system – you and your boyfriend are sprawled out on your large deep brown leather couch.

Cuddling, resting, and relaxing after a tough week of training and "important" briefings on duty.

The atmosphere is filled with contentment and coziness, while the delicious smell of lasagna and the fresh shower steam wafting into the open living space from the nearby bathroom, still linger in your shared apartment. The lights are off, except for the vanilla-scented candle you’ve lit on the white sideboard and the flickering lights of the TV screen illuminating the spacious room.

With the both of you now suffering from a food coma, Simon is laying on his broad back, taking up nearly all of the couches’ space. One muscular arm tucked behind his head on the armrest casually, the other hand playing with a few strands of your hair on the back of your head, his eyes half-lidded and glued to the large flat TV mounted on the opposite wall, currently playing the first episode of Band of Brothers, after you two had finally settled on something to watch – something you'd both enjoy.

Meanwhile, you're laying between his spread thighs, draped over him with your cheek resting on his lower stomach, your right hand rubbing slow, soothing circles over his lax abs with your flat palm and tracing the many faded scars while his tight black shirt is rucked up to his chest; his belly now slightly round and full, sporting a food baby, and thus not as hard and ripped as it usually is.

You can hear his stomach work as your ear presses against his pale skin, his gut already processing the food and sounding like a bunch of whale calls while his strong heartbeat fades into the background noise like a steady drum. It's an odd concoction of sounds, and you swiftly find yourself paying more attention to your boyfriend's bodily functions than your favorite war show playing on TV.

"What's so funny, eh? We're laughin’ at WWII now?" Simon asks eventually after your second quiet snicker to yourself, his deep voice sounding gruff and heavy with beginning fatigue, though it still carries that familiar dry, deadpan humor of his.

"Nope. Nothing," you reply with another breathy chuckle, patting and caressing his lower abdomen reassuringly. Perhaps a little bit too close to his crotch this time.

The sudden movement makes his muscles flex below your palm, and a low groan escapes Simon's slightly parted lips and both actions immediately trigger something within you, like a house cat being taunted by its owner moving their hand below a blanket.

"Don't... don't do that, luv," he chides you gently, cupping his free hand over yours to keep it still on his stomach, "Gimme another good thirty minutes, and I'll rock yer world." Simon tells you, stifling a yawn.

While he keeps your ministrations at bay with his mammoth hand, you prop yourself up on your other elbow with a small pout before you wordlessly begin peppering wet and hot kisses along his belly, down to his naval and lower abdomen, inhaling his masculine scent greedily while your nose nearly digs into his milky, scarred skin.

"Bloody hell, lass – don't, I –" Simon protests half-heartedly, sucking in a sharp breath, before another low groan slips past his lips as he shifts his body beneath you.

"Watch the damn TV and let me do my thing.” You mutter against his skin, though there is no bite behind your words, only teasing and affection – and burning determination. You two didn’t have any time nor strength for sex all week and you suddenly feel like making up for it now.

A low grumble vibrates in his chest in return and you know he wants to object again, but then he doesn't, because Simon is low-key just as horny as you are – he was just trying to be mindful, thinking you’re too tired to engage in anything sexual with him tonight.

"Always so goddamn bossy when we're alone," he mutters instead, clicking his tongue in mock exasperation, though a small smirk tugs at the corner of his scarred mouth.

“C’mere then, lovey,” he murmurs in his deep, gravelly voice, swiftly pulling his black T-shirt over his head and letting it fall down on the fluffy carpet next to the couch haphazardly, before he audibly pats his now bared chest in silent command with the hand that was previously tucked behind his head.

He needs to feel your lips on his first; ease in to this slowly before he might come too quickly; it’s been a week after all and Simon is only now realizing how tight his balls are.

However, you shake your head with a cheeky smirk, nuzzling the tip of your nose into the coarse dark hair of his thin happy trail, feeling his muscles flex at the sweet touch, before lifting your head to gaze up at him through your lashes.

“I wanna suck you off, baby. Can I?” You ask in a sultry purr, almost innocently, batting your eyelashes at him as you tug on the waistband of his grey sweats, pulling at it playfully before letting it snap back against his skin.

A rough groan escapes Simon as he watches you play with the thick hem of his pants and he already knows, despite his stamina, it will be a quick first round tonight; he’s way too sensitive and you know exactly what to do to drive him wild with lust. That familiar heat of arousal is already pooling into his gut and making his blood rush south.

“If I say no, what’re ye gonna do, hm?” He counters gruffly, biting back a sly smirk; his dark eyes fixated on yours, burning and molten and filled with desire and curiosity – because he rarely denies you anything, if ever.

“Maybe I’ll just do it myself,” he adds after a beat of silence, “Make myself feel good.”

Simon can practically watch how you process, assess, analyze his words in the span of mere seconds, but then your pupils dilate comically large, like a cartoon characters, and a foreign look appears on your face, one he’s never seen before. His heartbeat accelerates and he grunts lowly as you push yourself off his stomach to sit back on your haunches between his spread legs while the soft leather of the couch creaks and shifts as you move.

“Okay,” you retort in a breathy, deadpan voice, your eyes never leaving his, “I’ll watch.”

Simon instinctively shifts on the couch as well, propping his large upper body up in a reclined sitting position when he hears that you mean business. His dark eyebrows raise slightly at your unexpected reaction – the fact that his joke-proposition seems to excite you so immensely. His cock twitches and throbs inside his boxer briefs in return.

His eyes roam over your curves briefly, noticing how your braless breasts rise and fall with heavier yet slow breaths, nipples already peaking behind the fabric of your tight black crop top. You’re clearly aroused and Simon is sure he can smell you already, sweet, slick and warm and, most importantly, all his.

A pleased growl rumbles through his buff chest, until he remembers what exactly made you react this extremely.

"Yer into that?" He asks incredulously, brows drawing together in disbelief and curiosity, though if he's honest with himself, Simon is not surprised in the slightest.

You always encourage him to be more vocal in bed, make sounds, let loose. The dirtier, the better. Plus points if he sounds like a goddamn caveman claiming you; grunting and groaning in your ear while his fat cock is buried inside your tight cunt up to the hilt. You always love that.

"Yes," you answer curtly, squirming in your seat already. "I used to watch blokes jerk off and fuck their pocket pussies all the time on the Hub. Looked up the biggest, buffest lad and imagined you being the one doing it." You confess bluntly, a wicked smirk creeping on your lips as his big doe eyes grow even wider.

"Pff, seriously?"

Simon tries not to show it too obviously, but that is, hands down, the hottest and most flattering admission you've ever shared with him. Gods, he bloody loves your bluntness.

"Yes, sir." You nod enthusiastically while he snorts and rolls his eyes in mock annoyance.

You only ever call him Sir off duty when there's a deeper meaning behind it – a plan.

"So... you – you wanna see that, innit? Wanna watch me have a wank in front of you and look all pathetic while I could also just...fuck you properly instead?" Simon enquires with a hint of sarcasm, scratching the stubble at his chin as he studies your beautiful face appraisingly, still obviously hesitant about the whole idea.

"Uh-huh," You nod again, smiling at him with a certain twinkle in your eyes, like a child finally receiving a toy it always wanted but never dared to ask for. “Please.” You add for good measure, tilting your head to the side in a playful manner.

Simon quirks an eyebrow at you, his eyes flickering over your pretty features to make sure you're really not messing with him. He's never done that before; it has never occurred to him that anyone would want to see him do that.

Masturbating has always felt pathetic and awkward to him; it's a means to an end to him and especially those Combat Jack’s are the worst. Feel sad and horny, jerk off, feel sad and empty afterwards. Done deal.

But how can he ever deny you that particular pleasure when you've always been so good for him? So incredibly patient, caring, and loving despite all his flaws and issues; way before you've become a couple, even.

"Fine. I'll do it," he finally huffs gruffly, his own heart skipping a hard beat, his brows creasing together in a slight frown while he can't hide the obvious tent already sporting in the front of his sweatpants at the sight of your beaming smile and sparkling eyes after getting exactly what you want – again.

"But ye're not allowed to touch me...or yerself. Understood?"

Oh.

Your nostrils flare as you exhale sharply, drumming your fingertips along his clothed thighs as you narrow your eyes at him, pondering briefly.

"Yeah... okay... sounds like torture, but... the fun kind." You agree reluctantly, giving a small shrug, though you quickly notice that his strict order only fuels your growing arousal and excitement. It’ll be like watching your own personal porn after all.

Simon moves his knees then, a silent warning to get your hands off like you agreed to, and you retrieve your hands from his thighs with a tiny snarl that makes him chuckle darkly while you rest your palms on your own thighs instead.

“Be my good girl then and take yer top off, lovey. Show me yer pretty tits, yeah?”

Yet again, a violent shiver runs down your spine as soon as Simon gives you another order in that deep, gravelly voice of his and you don’t hesitate to obey his request – peeling off your tight crop top to reveal your breasts to him at once and dropping the piece of clothing next to the couch, your skin flushed with arousal and carnal desire for him.

“Like this?”

Simon hums deeply in approval, his pink tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip, like a wolf licking its chaps, while his whiskey-colored eyes darken and gleam an inky black as they drink in your gorgeous, bare upper body, now only illuminated by the soft candlelight and the flickering lights of the TV screen, still playing Band of Brothers. You look like an absolute goddess and his fingers itch to reach out and touch, flick his thumbs over your perky nipples just the way you like it, squeeze and grope your tits until you mewl with neediness.

But, alas, he doesn’t.

“Aye, just like that,” he grunts out, shifting and adjusting his position until he’s comfortable on the couch and has a good view on you. “Bloody perfect, you minx.” He adds thickly in a low murmur.

And then, without a further word, Simon finally hooks his right thumb into the waistband of his sweats and boxer briefs and tugs both fabrics down until the stretchy waistbands are snug taut below his balls, right at his taint, adding some pressure to the sensitive spot. He grunts when his large cock springs free from its confinement and rests on his lower stomach, a droplet of pearly pre-cum leaking onto his dark happy trail from his blushing tip, making your mouth water on sight and a breath hitch in your throat.

The musky scent of his arousal hits your nose, and it takes all of your trained willpower not to pounce on him. No, this is special. You can't ruin it with your impatience.

There's a slight grimace on his ruggedly handsome face when he simply grabs his shaft, then his right mammoth hand wraps around his girth completely. It almost looks painful to you, but Simon bites his cheek and fights the immediate shudder of pleasure running down his spine at his own rough touch, giving himself a few slow, tight strokes.

"You're a dry guy?" You ask curiously, scrunching your nose up in surprise. You always use some kind of lube when you give him a nice hand job.

"Huh? Yeah?" Simon's eyes flicker from his throbbing cock to your eyes, then swiftly back again, shrugging his broad shoulders before stilling briefly, then he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

Great, now he feels like he's doing it wrong; something he's been doing to himself for years. It’s not his fault that his calloused hands cannot compare to your soft ones anymore and that you’ve completely spoiled him with your gentle yet firm touch; you’ve utterly ruined him for himself at this point.

“Mhm,” you hum appraisingly, practically buzzing with pent-up arousal as you squirm in your seat between his spread legs again and feel the fabric of your thong rub between your slick folds and against your pulsating clit in delicious torture.

“Spit in your fist, baby,” you advise him then, your own mouth filling with saliva at the sheer thought, completely self-conditioned, “Enjoy it for me. Relax.”

Simon nearly groans at your words, but suppresses the wanton sound again, all to your disapproval.

“Fuck –“ He grunts through clenched teeth, nostrils flaring as he's already crumbling beneath your smoldering gaze and bratty pout.

The urge to just pinch your pretty nipples in retaliation and grab you by the nape of your neck like a disobedient kitten, only to make your plump lips spread and open up over his needy cock, is becoming more unbearable by the second.

Eventually, Simon lifts his right hand, because he does want to put on a show for you, and spits into his rough palm generously.

The sudden choked whimper that spills from your lips at the lewd gesture of his makes it all worth it, tough, and Simon lets out a guttural moan this time, when he cups his leaking tip with his slicked up fist and twists his wrist for more friction.

“This good enough for you, luv?” He manages to ask in between guttural grunts and deep, deliberate breaths.

Meanwhile, you don’t even know where or what to look at as your feral eyes try to drink in and process this whole scene in front of you – his flushed cheeks, glazed eyes, how his abs and the muscles in his chest and arms ripple and flex with each heavy breath and movements, the way he works on his long, girthy cock for you. It’s still such a rare sight for you – seeing him this open and vulnerable.

If Simon would let you, you’d record and safe all of it for later.

“Yes,” you breathe out in return, voice hoarse and thick with lust and need, utterly captivated and amazed by his performance. “God, yes, baby. You look so fucking sexy right now.”

Your praise sends a jolt of hot, searing pleasure straight to his cock while Simon keeps fucking into his rough fist and his breath stutters briefly as he tries to maintain his fervent rhythm, muttering curses under his breath.

When his head lolls back against the armrest while a husky groan tears itself from his throat and his hips buck up into his own hand instinctively, right in front of you, you have to take several deep breaths to keep yourself seated on your haunches and, simultaneously, from reaching out to him – even though it’d be so easy to just…join him, perhaps fondle his balls and increase the pleasure.

Letting out another whimpery moan at the thought, your own fingers are now digging into the fabric of your gym leggings on your thighs, fidgeting and twitching restlessly while you move and roll your hips desperately, trying to find some release as your soaked thong keeps rubbing your swollen clit between your folds.

Simon can already feel how pathetically close he is and he knows it’s only because you’re watching him wank off right now, enjoying it – and praising him for it in that tooth-achingly sweet voice of yours, too.

It usually takes him so much longer to cum on his own, no matter how blue his balls are, but this is different – a good kind of different, and the tension in his lower stomach continues to rise at a rapid pace while he can barely hold eye-contact with your mesmerizing eyes when you’re looking at him like that, all aroused and needy with lust.

“’m close,” Simon huffs out, sounding like an angry bull as he bends one leg and puts the other foot down on the ground for leverage, readying himself for the inevitable.

“Play with yer tits for me, beautiful,” he requests through his clenched jaw as he watches you squirm through heavy-lidded eyes, “Help daddy come.”

“Oh…Fuck…” you practically gasp out as soon as you hear him calling himself that, and your head tilts back slowly with a breathy moan when your hands roam over your bare stomach sensually, up until they rest over your heavy breasts. You begin toying with yourself for him, groping and squeezing the supple flesh, tugging on your stiff nipples and rolling the sensitive buds between the pads of your fingers, until you’re panting for him like a bitch in heat.

While you’re playing with your tits like he asked you to, like the good, obedient girlfriend you are, Simon’s free hand finds its way slithering up his taut stomach, up his heaving chest, until it wraps around his own throat firmly, blunt nails digging into his scarred skin, tightening just enough to feel his own strong pulse flutter and thrum beneath his fingers, while he keeps stroking and fucking his cock into his tight fist with shameless vigor.

You and Simon moan simultaneously then – you at the sight of him choking himself suddenly, without warning, and he, because of all combined sensations bullying him to his peak all at once.

Eventually, his loud breathing keeps hitching, the vein in his temple protruding visibly as he keeps his grip around his throat, and your lips part with a wanton moan as you watch him climax, squeezing your tits harshly, as Simon’s balls tighten, eyes rolling back and fluttering shut and he finally comes with a guttural groan, spilling his thick, white release into his fist until it leaks and drips out from between his rough knuckles, making a mess on his lower belly.

“Fuckin’ hell, luv –“ Simon curses with a low chuckle, and swallows hard, still catching his breath as he releases his throat and lifts his head up from the armrest to look at you, feeling somewhat sheepish all of a sudden.

“That what you wanted?” He asks sarcastically, his voice all wrecked and gruff as he gestures at the mess on his stomach with his clean hand while his body keeps shuddering with aftershocks.

You need a moment to find your voice again, your heart still hammering against your ribcage just from watching him get off while your core is still fluttering and pulsing with want and a desperate need for attention.

“Y-yeah,” you admit with a few tiny nods, still blushing with arousal after heaving a deep sigh, “That was…perfect. You were bloody perfect, honey.” You utter another praise and watch his cheeks tint with a blush.

“Tsk,” Simon scoffs, shaking his head slightly, completely blissed out of his mind, “You better shut it, lass, and help me clean up this mess.” He grunts dismissively, though he’s grinning proudly.

“Gimme ten minutes, lovey.” He remarks with a wolfish smirk, the innuendo clear as he doesn't bother to tuck his half-hard cock back into his sweats, after you’ve retrieved some soft tissues from the box on the coffee table.

Making him cum now merely opened the floodgates, like shaking a champagne bottle and pulling the cork recklessly; his hunger for you has only been ignited and, boy, he is starving again, though not for your delicious lasagna this time.

When you hold out the tissues to him with an amused look, Simon grabs your wrist suddenly and hauls you on top of him again, up to his chest this time, wrapping one strong leg around your body securely to keep you caged in before he cups your cheek with his cum-slicked hand and finally captures your lips in a deep, sloppy kiss.

He knows you don't mind the mess.

[star-suh]

It’s the Opposite Day 

Kim Mingyu x Male Reader 

cw: top reader, bottom mingyu, established relationship, morning wood, chest play, mating press, full nelson, degradation, feminization, rimjob, fingering, impregnation kink, bareback, breeding, morning sex, rough sex, mingyu is fucked dumb, size kink.

an: it's the opposite day so here's a top male reader fic 😀

—

the alarm is ringing, yn woke up to turn it off rubbing his eyes seconds later and then staring at his morning wood making a tent with the sheets above it. “why am i so horny” he scoffed and started stroking it.

“good morning baby” mingyu just came out of the bathroom with the towel covering only his front part leaving his ass in plain sight, something that made yn more hornier.

oblivious of what was happening in between yn's legs mingyu walked around the room, his big plump ass bouncing every time he walks,’it's begging to be bred’ yn thought. mingyu feels two hands wrapping around his waist and then he is thrown against the bed, falling face down. “what the he~...” he slurred, feeling something wet entering his hole. yn didn't waste time and started to prep him using his tongue and fingers.

“it's to early in the morn…ning~ yn” waves of pleasure clouding his mind. “i can't help it gyu, you're so pretty” he pants catching his breath, “you're always looking so fuckable and breedable”.

now the couple was facing each other, yn giving hard thrusts while mingyu just whimpered and grabbed the sheets with so much strength that his knuckles were turning white. something caught yn's eyes, mingyu's tits bouncing with every thrust, “you're so slutty gyu, with these pretty perky big tits” he grope them with force, pinched the nipples and slapped them enjoying the pretty sounds coming out of the taller's mouth “too.. much~ yn”; “yes.. that's right.. let everyone knows who owns this pussy, who owns this perfect manwhore”.

yn keeps plowing his meat into the other's hole, even though mingyu was clearly bigger and stronger than yn, during sex he was easy to manhandle, yn’s capable of bending him over and fuck him in a full nelson, “tell me gyu. who own this pussy, huh?” he starts to rub the space in between mingyu’s balls and hole. “hngh..” is the only thing coming out of his mouth.

“tell me slut” yn puts mingyu’s right arm behind his head so he can have an easy access to his nipple and bites it, he once again asks with. clenched teeth and even harsher thrusts “who owns this pussy?”.

“youuuu~” he yells, cumming right at the spot, ropes of white cum landing on his toned abs.

yn stops and makes mingyu lean on bed on his back, then he bends him and begins to drill the tall guy again. the mating press position was their favorite, was easy for yn to go deeper inside him and hit his prostate and for mingyu it gave him a lot of pleasure for that same reason. “i'm getting you pregnant gyu, you're mine” he moans feeling mingyu’s hole clenching hard on his dick, “your pussy is so tight .. fuck!!”.

mingyu just nodded, the dicking was so good that he just didn't know what to say. “look at you.. such a big tough guy but the moment someone rails your tight manpussy you become all dumb just wanting more and more cock”; “yessh..siiirrr” he manages to say.

“get pregnant! get pregnant! get pregnant!” yn says with every thrust until he cums inside of him, every throb of his cock meaning that the precious thick liquid mingyu wanted, was filling him up.

“i can get used to this, having morning sex with my pretty boyfriend” yn laughs, kissing mingyu.

“i want more” mingyu demanded, fingering his creamed hole and then licking his fingers. 

“as you wish” yn replies putting his dick inside the other, resuming his thrusts. the sperm being churned inside and turned into foam “let's make more babies gyu, i'm gonna obliterate your pussy today”. the couple kept fucking all morning, at 12:00 PM mingyu was already full of cum with a gaping hole. “let's put this here so you don't waste any drop of my seed”, yn puts a plug in his ass.

mingyu gets ready and kisses yn “goodbye love, it's getting late, let's see how this goes at night” the taller says signaling at his ass. yn smirks “okay gyu, see you at night” he blows a kiss at him “good luck with your show today” he slaps gently the other’s ass.

and that's how mingyu went to rehearsals and then perform with his group on an award show with his ass full of cum.

[nyrvietmblr]

Opposites attract |

golden retriever!Kyra Cooney-cross x blackcat!reader

You and Kyra were an... unexpected couple. Who would’ve thought that Kyra Cooney-Cross, the most energetic, perky, golden retriever of a person, would ever cross paths with someone like you? Someone who hates touchy people, loud people, or talkative people—everything that Kyra is.

But it all started on a simple day in a busy café. You were seated, sipping your tea, reading one of your favorite books, when she came along.

“Excuse me? Could I sit here? There’s nowhere else…” a random, freckled girl asked with an accent that was clearly not English.

“Yeah… sure,” you replied, assuming she would leave you alone so you could get back to your book.

“Thanks,” she smiled, setting her things down and taking the seat across from you.

Your eyes skimmed the page, trying to read, but it was kind of difficult when someone was blatantly staring at you.

“Sorry… do you need something?” you asked the girl.

“Uh… no, sorry,” she stammered.

You blinked at her, then returned to your book. Peace. Quiet. Just pure relaxation.

“What’s your name?” the strange girl questioned.

“R.” You replied, impatient, wanting to get back to reading.

“That’s a pretty name. I’m Kyra,” she smiled.

“Nice to meet you,” you said, your face not unfriendly, but not exactly warm either. Just a look full of curiosity at this strange, freckled girl—Kyra—who was trying to make conversation.

“So… what do you do for work?” she asked, growing more inquisitive by the second.

“I work at the flower shop down the road,” you answered.

“Cool,” she exclaimed, taking a sip of her iced coffee, which she definitely shouldn’t have been drinking at 6:00 PM.

She picked up her phone, distracted for a moment, and for a second—just a second—you finally thought you could get some peace. Your eyes flickered back to your book as you leaned back in your chair, sighing contently.

Nearly three minutes passed before you noticed the strange girl—Kyra—getting antsy. Fidgety, almost like she was nervous, chewing on her thumbnail.

“Uh… are you okay?” you muttered lowly, unsure if she’d even hear you over the noise of the café.

“Huh?”

“Are you okay?”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

“Okay…”

And maybe, though your hope was running thin and your patience along with it, you believed you could finally finish this chapter with no more interruptions.

But then:

“Do you wanna go on a date with me?”

The strange girl spoke right as you were taking a sip of your tea, nearly causing you to choke. You stared at her.

“Sorry… I made this weird. I can go if you wa—” she began, hurriedly collecting her items, clearly overthinking the mere ten seconds of your silence.

“Kyra,” you cut her off.

But gosh, she was relentless. “I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I—”

“Kyra,” you said louder this time, and she finally paused, staring down at you.

“If I say yes, will you sit down and… stop talking?” you questioned, sitting up straight, staring right into her brown eyes.

She smiled softly. “Yeah,” Kyra agreed.

“Then yes. I’ll go on a date with you,” you continued, “Now sit down. You’re… kinda good company,” you admitted to a Cheshire-grinning Kyra.

And you just hoped you’d be able to deal with the pest you had just let into your life.

[azzifuddslover]

༯ OFF THE COURT — CHAPTER THREE 𝜗𝜚

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

themes: jealousy, angst, pining

word count: 3.1k

tw: alcohol use, swearing

a/n: hii my lovely’s! i honestly dk how i feel about this chapter, but i hope u guys enjoy it regardless. also please ignore the shift from past to present tense 😭 i realized i fucked it up like mid way thru but oh well! the movies i mentioned are also so good GO WATCH EM. and if u cant tell i love blushing i find it so cutesy. ALSO ONE SHOT IDEAS PLEASEEEEE. anyway, enjoy and hope y’all have a good week!

paige has a problem. it wasn’t that her aim was off, causing her to miss shot after shot. it wasn’t that her coach was yelling at her to get her head in the game. no, it wasn’t any of that. it was the fact paige couldn’t stop thinking about the curly brunette, even if her life depended on it.

ever since practice a few days ago, when azzi’s body was flush against hers, azzi had owned paige’s mind. and since her head is elsewhere, she failed to focus on everything else, especially basketball.

“what’s wrong with you?” nika asks paige, confused as to why her game was off, which is extremely rare for her.

without basketball, paige had nothing. basketball gave paige life, ever since a young age. even after trying other sports, her heart was always set on basketball. so when paige’s game had been acting up, it made her teammates, as well as coaches, confused.

paige glances at nika, “what? nothing.”

nika gave paige a don’t bullshit me look, “paige, cmon. you’ve been missing shots all day. something’s gotta be up.”

paige didn’t, wouldn’t tell nika about paige’s tiny issue. “i don’t know. bad day, i guess.”

“well get your shit together. we need you for tomorrow’s game.”

paige looks over at azzi, who was on the opposite side of the gym with caroline, “don’t worry, i will.”

later that night, paige was already laying in bed when her phone buzzes. it was a text from aubrey, asking the team group chat if anyone wanted to hang.

dorka, paige’s roommate, was already quietly sleeping on the opposite side of the room. paige looks at the time, 9:41 pm; she figured hanging out with her friends wasn’t the worst idea.

paige soon arrives at aubrey’s dorm. she opens the door to find a variety of her teammates; nika was seated on aubrey’s bed along with aubrey, lou was on the floor, while azzi and caroline were on jana’s bed, who wasn’t present.

fuck. of course azzi would show up, despite it being late at night. it was as if azzi somehow knew paige had been thinking about her— appearing just to torment her.

the two met eyes, paige held eye contact a tad longer than she normally would. heat creeped up azzi��s neck.

since there wasn’t much room on either beds, paige slumps against the bed azzi was sitting on.

“so what were y’all doing before i came in?” paige questions her teammates.

“trying to decide on a movie, but nobody is agreeing,” nika replies, annoyance in her voice.

“i say we watch she’s the man, but everyone here doesn’t have good taste, so nobody agrees with me,” aubrey says, rolling her eyes.

paige turns her head up to azzi, “what was your suggestion?”

azzi was caught off guard by paige’s question, “uh, i said about time.”

“oh my god, i love that movie. i agree with azzi,” paige announces.

azzi was shocked, to say the least. she never imagined a world where paige would agree with her.

they settle on about time. nika grabbed a few snacks and passed them around, while lou brought a few drinks in from the tiny kitchen.

a couple minutes into the film, paige grew uncomfortable with her spot on the ground. azzi noticed it by the constant shifting she had been doing. azzi reaches down to tap paige’s shoulder.

“you can come up here if you’re uncomfortable,” azzi whispers so the others wouldn’t be disturbed, while softly patting the spot next to her on the bed.

paige notices that her and carol had already shifted down, making room for paige. her lips curled into a small smile.

without a second thought, paige lifts from the floor and gently sets herself next to azzi, thighs nearly touching.

“thanks,” paige whispers. azzi simply nodded her head.

throughout the movie, paige’s thigh would occasionally graze azzi’s, sending butterflies to her stomach. there was a spark between the two, surely azzi felt it too.

caroline passes a bag of popcorn over to azzi, who instantly begins consuming it.

“can i have some?” paige questions lightly so she didn’t cause distractions for the others.

“of course,” azzi smiles, placing the popcorn in the middle of them.

their hands would graze while both going for the popcorn, paige let her touch linger longer than she should. she knew better. but her secret azzi fudd obsession got the better of her.

“sorry,” paige mutters, pulling her hand away after embarrassment covered her features.

“i don’t mind,” azzi looks at paige, a soft expression on her face.

paige had always been beautiful to azzi, but in this lighting, in aubrey’s small dorm, sitting on the same bed, mere inches apart, paige looked unreal. her blonde hair was the perfect kind of messy, lips were light pink, eyes so blue that they were practically transparent. paige’s cheeks flush at azzi’s eyes solely focused on her.

“okay guys! i’m exhausted, i’ll see y’all tomorrow,” nika jumps up from her spot, causing heads to look over at her.

paige and azzi took their attention away from each other, despite it being the hardest thing paige had to do.

“yeah, i should go too,” azzi agrees, beginning to move off the bed.

“same,” paige says, also moving from her spot.

the three say their goodbyes before leaving out aubrey’s dorm door. during the short walk down the hallway, the girls discuss their excitement for the first game of the season. they came to the end of the hall, where they could go either left, right, or continue straight. nika headed straight, off to her room. paige was going left, while azzi was going right. but both didn’t make any hints to move yet.

paige leans against the wall, azzi mimics her by doing the same on the opposite wall. a small smile crept onto her lips.

“you ready for tomorrow’s game?” paige questions the younger girl.

“beyond ready,” azzi’s smile only grows. she’s been waiting for this moment since before she could remember; her very first game in college basketball.

“you better be. i’m definitely gonna need you,” paige says without thinking. her eyes widen at her use of i’m. “we, i mean.”

azzi’s cheeks redden at paige’s comment about her needing azzi. not the team— her, accident or not.

“are you ready? you seemed kinda distracted at practice,” azzi brings up.

“i’m fine,” paige says harsher than she meant.

not wanting to deal with paige’s attitude, azzi sighs, “alright. see you tomorrow.”

paige desperately wanted azzi to stay with her. she wanted to grab her by the hand and pull her close; but she knew she couldn’t do that.

“yeah, see ya.”

the next morning, paige immediately shuts down any azzi thoughts from the previous day. she needs to focus on the game. it was the first of the season, and she eagerly wanted to make it a good one.

she brushes her teeth, washes her face, dresses herself, as dorka did the same.

“ready for this, p?” dorka smiles, excitement buzzing off her tall frame.

“always,” she matches her smile.

the two girls grab their bags and head down to the dining hall to grab some breakfast. nika, aubrey, jana, lou, carol and azzi were already seated and eating away.

paige prepares her meal before taking the spot besides jana, directly across from none other than azzi. they quickly lock eyes before looking away equally as quickly.

the team discusses plays they wanted to run in the upcoming game, all participating and giving suggestions. they soon finish eating before heading down to the gym for some smaller workouts, to get somewhat warmed up.

paige was still struggling to make her shots that she’d normally be making. when azzi notices, she casually walks over.

“can i suggest something?” azzi asks.

paige looks over at her, “hm?”

azzi strolls closer to the older girl, close enough to where paige felt her breath on

the back of her neck.

“what are you doing?” paige asks, breathlessly.

azzi places her hand on paige’s, adjusting it to where she liked. she then moves her elbow, “fixing your form.”

once azzi was done, paige shoots the ball, and is surprised to see it actually go through the basket.

“thanks, i guess,” paige grins.

the two girls continue shooting, getting their reps in when the time came to begin actual warm ups.

the game was about to begin; paige, nika, aubrey, azzi and jana were the starting 5. azzi feels an intense amount of pressure to do well, since she’s the only freshmen starting tonight.

the five girls huddle together, wide grins on their smiles, beyond ready to get this season going. paige speaks words of encouragement to her teammates as they all get into position.

uconn was up by 31 points, azzi having 19 while paige has 21.

paige runs the ball up the court, eyeing each teammate of hers. she passes the ball over to nika, who throws it over to azzi. she effortlessly makes the open 3, causing loud roars from the uconn student section.

the team was on a 9-0 run in the third quarter when paige sprints near half court and collides with a member from the other team.

azzi watches it happen and rushes over a little too quickly, for someone who claimed to hate her. azzi appears in front of the older girl, who was lying on the floor face up, and gently places her hands on her knees.

“are you okay?” azzi asks, worry laced in her tone.

paige was silent for a moment, still dazed by the impact. but when she glanced up at the brunette, a sense of calm quickly washed over her.

“yeah,” she answers, grabbing azzi’s hands that were being held out to her.

their hands held onto one another’s a moment too long. their bodies were slightly touching; neither made any movements.

it wasn’t until coach auriemma yelled at them did either of the girls make a move. paige was substituted for ashlynn to rest, and eventually, azzi was also subbed out for caroline to give other players a chance to play, as they were dominating the opposing team.

azzi settles down next to paige, the only spot open on the bench. their thighs were full on touching since the seats were so tight.

azzi rests her elbows on her knees before turning to paige, “you sure you’re okay? that fall looked like it hurt.”

paige smiles at azzi’s worry, “why? do you care or something?” she teases.

azzi’s face lit up with red, “um, no. of course not.”

paige lets out a soft chuckle before playfully pushing the brunette’s face, who who responds with a wide grin, dimples and all.

paige matches her smile with one of her own. god. she was otherworldly.

“you’re so fucking pretty,” paige mumbles, barely audible for azzi to hear, while dropping her heads, wrapping her arms under.

“sorry, what’d you say?”

“nothing,” paige replies, definitely not repeating her words.

the game ends, the teams high five one another before heading to the locker rooms.

“guys, since we played so well today, we should definitely celebrate,” jana suggests.

“what are you thinking?” nika asks, a smile tugging at her lips.

“ted’s, of course,” she laughs, “is everyone good with 7?”

each team member agree to meet at ted’s, the bar most uconn students attended, around 7. paige was buzzing at the idea of a dirty shirley temple, desperately needing one to get her mind off someone.

paige showered, applied light makeup, and picked out a comfortable but nice outfit.

around 6:55, paige leaves her apartment with dorka at her side, heading to ted’s.

the bar was absolutely packed with uconn students as well as the women’s basketball team. nika was talking to the bartender, aubrey was laughing at something jana said, while azzi was throwing back a shot.

the air seemed to shift when paige’s gaze lands on the young brunette. her heart instantly quickens as she took in her outfit. a light purple tank top that fit her in all the right places, paired with jean shorts that were doing wonders for her ass. her curls were down, slightly messy but in the most beautiful way possible.

making eye contact with paige causes azzi’s breath to hitch. heat floods her cheeks as she remembers the moments between them from earlier today.

stepping closer to the bar, paige lowers herself into an open seat, directly across from azzi who was completely surrounded by teammates. dorka took the spot next to her while lou made herself over to the two girls.

“dorka! p!” lou greets them, clearly already drunk.

“hey lou lou,” dorka smiles at her friend.

paige waves over the bartender, “can i please have a dirty shirley temple?”

the bartender nods, immediately reaching for a glass. paige was dying for a drink in her hand to take her mind off everything and everyone.

the shirley burns her throat as she took several gulps, downing nearly half the glass.

“calm down there, p,” dorka laughs at paige’s urgency to consume the drink as fast as possible.

“just thirsty,” paige replies.

after finishing her second shirley temple is when she noticed a tall man talking to azzi. her azzi. her fists clench at her sides as she throws a glare their way.

the man then lowers himself into the open seat next to her while casually shifting close, making their faces mere inches apart. azzi fidgets with her fingers, suddenly nervous from the attention.

paige presses her lips in a line to hold back her growing anger that was screaming to come out. all she wanted to do was walk over there and take what’s hers.

paige orders several more drinks, shots, whatever she could to hopefully get rid of the scene in front of her.

when a piece of azzi’s hair falls in front of her face, the man reaches out and brushes it behind her ear. his hand lingers for a moment too long, only causing paige to become more aggravated.

azzi laughs at something he said and paige decides she’s had enough. although she was completely aware she shouldn’t be doing this, she was supposed to hate azzi, she couldn’t help herself. she clutches her drink tightly in her grasp, a idea trickling in her head, and marches over there.

azzi almost instantly spots the blonde moving towards her at a rapid pace. her eyes widen when paige accidentally trips, spilling her drink all over the man.

satisfaction covered paige’s features, proud of her doing.

“jesus fucking christ!” he yelps, quickly jumping up from his position next to azzi.

“i am so sorry,” paige pretends to be genuine and concerned, even though herself and azzi knew it was complete bullshit.

the man grabs napkins, desperately trying to pat himself down, but ultimately failing. he walks away without as much as a glance back at the curly brunette, who continues to remain silent.

“did you seriously have to do that?” azzi questions paige, annoyance on her face.

“it was an accident, azzi,” paige sighs.

“sure it was,” azzi mutters as she grips her drink.

“it was,” paige replies defensively.

paige allows herself to sit where the man once was, feeling the air grow electric with the two being so close. azzi looks almost shaken by their close proximity, her eyes roaming paige’s body.

“paigey!” nika slurs, suddenly grabbing paige’s shoulders.

paige turns to her friend who was beaming, “what’s up nik?”

“oh my goodness, you totally missed it…” nika rants on and on about the hot bartender who was totally checking her out.

“i’ll be back,” nika grins as she jogs off to talk with the bartender once again.

“at least she’s getting some action,” azzi says, rolling her eyes.

“oh my god, i am so sorry i ruined the two minute conversation you had with some idiot. if you’re so interested in him, then be my guest; go find the fucker.”

“maybe i will,” azzi bites out, getting up from her spot and taking off towards the crowd.

it shocks paige that azzi actually went through with it— disappoints her, too. did she genuinely like the guy?

regretting her words, paige follows azzi’s trail, quickly catching up to the freshmen. she grabs her arm, making her twist around to face her.

“please, wait,” paige slurs in her drunken state.

“what do you want?” azzi questions, desperate to know paige’s intentions.

“you,” paige whispers, so quietly azzi can barely make it out.

“speak up, paige,” azzi replies, annoyed.

“please don’t go after him.”

azzi’s eyes crinkle, “and why not? you’re not my keeper.”

paige rests her hands on either one of azzi’s hips, uncontrollably pulling the younger girl closer.

“i know. i know,” she whispers, “just stay. stay here with me.”

azzi was taken aback from paige’s soft tone and sweet words. it was unlike paige to be like this to azzi, so azzi pieced together she must be drunk out of her mind.

“you’re drunk, paige,” azzi says.

“i’m sober enough,” paige’s lips turn up as she moves her hands to azzi’s face.

with her face in her hands, paige rests her forehead against the curly brunette’s, while her gaze drops down to her full, pink lips.

“what are you doing, paige?”

paige closes her eyes, not wanting to think about everything wrong with what she was doing and how it’d be like tomorrow.

“i don’t know. fuck, i don’t know. i just want to be close to you,” she whispers.

azzi gently places her hands on paige’s waist, pulling the older girl impossibly closer.

“fuck, az,” paige mutters, “i can’t stop thinking about you.”

paige was all azzi could hear, despite the loud crowd and blasting music around her. and her words meant everything.

“no matter how hard i try, you’re always there. you with your perfect curls and cute ass dimples,” paige smiles, twisting with a singular curl with her finger.

“oh yeah?” azzi matches the grin.

“yeah,” paige says, gaze focused on her lips.

right as paige leans in, azzi suddenly jerks back, her eyes wide with panic.

“p— paige, no. you’re drunk. you’ll regret it tomorrow,” she stutters, frantically stepping out of paige’s touch.

paige reaches out for azzi’s frame, “no i won’t.”

practically tripping over herself, azzi rushes over to her previous seat with paige right on her heels. she grabs her belongings before giving a lone glance back at the blonde; she was breathing hard, hands slightly shaking, with a disappointed yet shameful expression on her face.

azzi turns away and is gone before paige had the time to blink.

“god fucking dammit,” paige mutters to herself, ashamed of her actions that caused azzi to run off.

paige finds an open spot at the bar and orders yet another round of shots, not caring about the concerned looks she was receiving from her teammates.

paige swallows shot after shot, trying to drown her sorrows and any lingering thoughts of azzi. of course she had to ruin whatever was happening between them. of course.

“paige, don’t you think that’s enough for tonight?” aubrey cautiously questions her friend.

paige drunkenly chuckles, “not even close,” throwing back another burning shot.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Out Of Context Things Director Lazard Has Seen On The SOLDIER Floor

• Sephiroth carrying an unconscious, bloody-nosed Genesis in a fireman's carry out of the men's room. When asked, his only response was "Don't worry, he's not dead yet."

• Angeal crawling out of a cupboard in the break room with a neck pillow.

• Zack carrying around an iceberg lettuce, a bottle of ranch and taking bites out of it like a sandwich.

• Genesis rolling around in an office chair using a broomstick as a makeshift paddle.

• Sephiroth and his salad bowl filled with Udon. This has been seen a total of 8 different times.

• Angeal giving Genesis a piggyback ride, Sephiroth giving Zack a piggyback ride, they're having a race.

• Zack hanging up a poster that reads "HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GUY? NOW YOU HAVE :)" and it's just a picture of Cloud Strife.

• Genesis and Angeal stuck on opposite sides of a chinese finger trap while Sephiroth loses his shit, on the floor laughing.

• The following dialogue:

Angeal: Genesis, sit up straight.

Sephiroth: Let him sit gay.

• He walked by Sephiroth's office and he was in there, working at his desk, with 6 glow stick necklaces around his neck.

• Angeal dragging Zack and Cloud by their ears while the pair goes "ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow"

• Genesis sitting in the break room, swirling a glass of wine and completing a coloring book.

• Zack dropping down from an air vent with a super soaker strapped to his back.

• Sephiroth walking around with sunglasses at 9 PM.

• The elevator door opened to Sephiroth, Genesis and Angeal standing there while Genesis' sentence ended with "—and that's why we should adopt a capybara."

• Angeal approaching a sleeping Genesis with a permanent marker.

• Sephiroth casually laying in a hammock he set up in the training facility while the 2nds run drills on their own. When asked if he's ashamed of himself, he replied "I'm ashamed I didn't think of this sooner"

• Genesis pursuing Zack with a megaphone, quoting LOVELESS at the top of his lungs while Zack covers his ears.

• Angeal having a fight with a revolving door and losing.

• Cloud Strife in his infantry uniform, sitting in Sephiroth's office reading a magazine, lemonade in hand, 2 PM on a Tuesday. When asked he said he was answering the phone while Sephiroth was out. The phone was actively ringing during this and he was ignoring it.

• Sephiroth, Genesis, Angeal, Zack and Cloud all piled onto a luggage cart, using their legs to maneuver it. Zack is standing up going "HEAVE—HEAVE—HEAVE"

• He's seen either Sephiroth and Genesis minding their own business when all of a sudden the other attacks them.

• Angeal sitting in a cardboard box eating a sandwich. The box says "THE CALM DOWN BOX"

• Sephiroth boiling pasta in the electric kettle in the break room.

• Zack sitting in the Calm Down Box™ with his face literally looking like ">:(" while Angeal stands over him with an electric fly swatter.

• He heard Genesis's loud singing echoing from the men's room, followed by Angeal's quiet "we can't even pee in peace anymore"

• Sephiroth and Genesis sitting in the Calm Down Box™ arguing over the correct pronunciation of "data"

[itadorey]

[9:33 pm]

pairing: fushiguro megumi x reader takes place at the beginning of the series

"whatcha looking for?"

megumi flinches at the sudden question, his head hitting the top of the thermometer box as he stumbles back. his mouth twists into a scowl as he reaches up, checking to make sure that there was no blood present. it's only when he makes sure his hand is clean that he finally turns to face the person who spoke.

"do you need help?"

the first thing megumi notices is your cursed energy. it rolls off of you in waves, non-threatening and constant and he finds himself wondering if you're even aware of it. he raises an eyebrow, watching you closely as you smile at him. when he doesn't respond, you step closer to him, peeking your head into the thermometer box and looking around the small space.

"whatever you were looking for is gone," you chirp, looking up at him. megumi realizes you're entirely too close (and incredibly pretty) and he finds himself clearing his throat before taking a few more steps back. "what was it?"

"nothing," megumi replies instantly, avoiding your gaze as he looks around. he knows the cursed object isn't completely gone. he can still feel the cursed energy residuals lingering around the school and he decides to ignore you in favor of continuing his search.

"it must be important if you're still on the lookout," you say, hands clasped behind your back as you match his steps. "was it a love letter?"

"why would i be searching for a love letter?" megumi asks, giving you a disbelieving glare.

"you're right," you concede, a skip in your step as you pull slightly ahead of him. a teasing look is sent his way and he finds himself wondering why you're speaking to him. "someone like you wouldn't have to look for love letters. you probably just get them handed to you all the time."

megumi pauses briefly, quickly shaking his head before continuing on his way. were you flirting with him?

unfortunately for him, you had noticed the brief stutter in his step, and the grin on your face lets him know you had witnessed it. megumi fights the blush rising on his cheeks, looking away from you as he follows you to the school's field. he doesn't have time to be flirting with a stranger, even if they happen to be pretty and witty.

"i don't really talk to people like that," megumi mutters, wincing when he realized how lame his words sounded. he was rewarded with a giggle from you as you came to a stop, standing on a set of concrete steps.

"could've fooled me," you respond, giving him a glance before looking away. you seem a little flustered, and megumi wonders if you really are flirting or just teasing him. he chooses to remain silent, following your line of sight to see you watching the challenge between a teacher and what seems to be a freakishly strong teenager with pink hair.

"i'll leave you alone now. but keep an eye on him, yeah? maybe he has the answers you're looking for," you say, giving megumi one last smile before walking away. you turn around after a few seconds, still walking as you wave at megumi. "good luck finding that cursed object!"

megumi shakes his head, walking in the opposite direction you were going. he stops abruptly when he processes your words, wondering how you had known what he was looking for.

"hey, wait!" he says, turning around. his eyebrows furrow when he realizes you're gone, not a single trace of you left. even your cursed energy was impossible to detect, the remnants of the special grade object's cursed energy overpowering your own. you're briefly erased from his mind when the pink-haired boy runs past him, the strong presence of cursed energy prompting megumi to follow him instead.

it isn't long until he sees you again, and not even he can keep the shock (and blush) off his face when you send him a wink, standing under gojo's arm as he introduces you to him.

"megumi! this is the new grade 1 sorcerer who will be joining your class along with itadori!"

megumi doesn't know whether to be more impressed at how easily you put up with gojo or at the fact that you're already a grade 1 sorcerer at your age. but what he does know is that his life is about to get a lot more interesting as he watches you bow to him.

"nice to officially meet you, fushiguro," you say, a playful glint in your eyes as you smile sweetly at him. "i hope we can be friends."

"l-likewise," he responds, trying to ignore the shit-eating grin on gojo's face when he hears him stutter. he's given no warning before gojo pushes you into him, muttering something about a last-minute mission and how he would greatly appreciate it if megumi could give you the tour instead. the thumbs-up and kissy face that gojo sends him before turning the corner makes megumi blush even harder, and he finds himself holding back a groan when he realizes you witnessed the entire exchange.

yeah, this year was not going to be easy for him at all.

wc: 865 reblogs are appreciated <3

[dawnoftime22]

phone.

| T.S

Warnings: None?

Summary: With you being far too engrossed in your phone, Taylor becomes frustrated, but manages to grab your attention.

Word Count: 1.3k

Category: Pure fluff!

| Started on 05/05/2024, 2:53 PM |

| Finished on 17/06/2024, 4:34 PM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

"Sweetheart, utter your needs, and I'll heed to my task to follow you, weaved with care and love."

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

You had been staring at your phone for ages, doing what? She didn't know, but it had her sighing softly for the third time.

She's been waiting around the entire hour for you to put it away at some point, but all you kept doing was the opposite. Meanwhile, Taylor's been switching her position every few minutes, hoping in a way, the movement would catch your attention. She was starting to look like one of her cats.

Once she finished yet another page of her book, that seemed like it was becoming boring by every second, she had enough. Her eyes looked to you, seeing how you were indeed still blinking and breathing, but not moving other than a few movements of your fingers.

Her hand reaches out and she gently took your phone away, causing confusion to enter your face.

"Hey!--" You protested for a moment, but her finger was placed on your lips, making you freeze and blink at her, your heart having skipped a beat.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you try to grab your phone once again, but she moved it further away from you, shaking her head.

"Mm, mm, you look at me." She lets go of your phone, having put it out of reach from you somewhere. But nonetheless, her hands cupped your face, making you look at her properly.

You let out a gentle breath and chuckled, your shoulders relaxing at the touch. Taylor looked straight into your eyes, her blue ones starting to hold just a teensy bit of frustration.

"What have you been looking at and smiling at for the past hour??" She asks, shaking her head and pouting her lips adorably. Your heart melted at the sight, your lips moving to only have your smile grow wider.

"...Cat videos. And sea otters," You explain, making her blink in the unexpected answer, although, it was you, after all. There was the smallest blush appearing on her cheeks too, and you try your best to resist a laugh.

"Well, as much as I love cats, loooook at me, baby," she urges, shaking your shoulders ever so gently, but it was clear she wanted your attention. You giggled, your hands trying to stop her, to which she slowly relented.

"All you had to do was say something, sweetheart," you whispered, nuzzling your nose against hers before kissing her softly. Her small frustration almost faltered, but her pout was still visible.

"Well, you should have at least noticed..." She murmurs, her hand sliding off your shoulders to cross them across her chest, and you purse your lips with a smile.

"Mm, nope. I thought you were trying to get yourself in a comfortable position," you said, making yourself a point, even though you were too awfully distracted.

"...But you could have helped," she replied back, her shoulders slumping down as she looked up to your eyes. Her lips were turned down, which was an adorable sight.

"The fault's on both of us, my love," you say, admitting that you indeed should have given just a little more attention on her, but she should have also spoken up or took action. She thought it over, noticing now that her maturity was the slightest bit off at the moment.

"Okay." She whispered, leaning into your shoulder, seemingly almost shrinking. Your arms wrap around her, giving her the embrace she's been yearning for the past hour.

"I'll be sure to shower you with attention all day from now on." You whispered, squeezing her gently and pulling her closer in your arms, making her face elicit a darker blush.

"...And for the rest. Of. My. Life." The words uttered from your lips were followed by a single peppering of kisses on her face. She was a mess of a giggle as you made sure to find her forehead, in between her eyes, her nose, the corners of her lips just to tease...and finally, right on her lips.

She melts into the kiss and leans in closer to deepen it, before soon parting yourselves from each other. You look into her eyes softly, and the longer you both stayed like that, she ends up scrunching her nose, her heart in of itself about to burst from love.

"I love you..." The three little words murmur from her mouth, her head leaning in to press gently against your chest. She could feel the vibration of your soft laugh that reverberated off the walls of the bedroom, and it only touched her heart further.

"I love you too, sweetheart." You whisper back, your nose brushing against her hair. It tickled, but also gave warmth and comfort. Your lips brushed near her ear ever so slightly, and you hear a giggle sounding from her, knowing it tickled her back.

You were about to move to cuddle her further and properly rather than just her in your lap, but she had gotten distracted, having noticed the small movement of a cat's tail in the corner of her vision.

She perks up and peeks over the bed, her head turned to see Olivia. Her face brightens up at the sight, while her cat was looking around curiously.

"It's Olivia!" She said, reaching her hands out and letting go of you, wanting to go grab Olivia, but you pull her back gently, tightening your embrace on her.

"Nope! You've got my full attention. You're stuck with me now," you said, giggling as you shook your head, getting yourself closer to her. She yelped slightly and the cat turned its head in surprise.

"Nooo!! Olivia!" She struggles gently against you, calling her cat out for help in act, but Olivia only blinked and walked off, jumping onto the desk chair in the bedroom, which only made both of your laughters grow.

"Okay, okay, I fell right into that," Taylor said, the giggling subsiding and dissolving into breaths that both of you tried to catch back into your regular rhythm.

You looked to Olivia, then took a deep to finish off calming yourself, your gaze going back to Taylor to look at her lovingly. She was already looking at you, a warmth felt within her eyes that you stared into.

"Lets watch the cat videos together," you say, going to your side to grab back your phone that she had put aside just to have your attention.

Taylor smiles softly, agreeing by leaning into you once more. Olivia had jumped off the desk chair in the meanwhile, jumping up on the bed.

"Look, Olivia wants to join in anyway," you pointed out, noticing the movement of a small furry body, but not looking up from your phone as you unlocked it to find the video you were looking at.

"We have real life cats that are silly, baby, I mean--" Taylor starts, about to say that you two could just look at them, but when she turns her head to see Olivia, she sees the small cat standing up on the bed, looking like a squirrel instead of a cat, which had her splutter a soft laugh.

"Look at her! We don't even need the videos, we have the real thing in front of us." She puts her hand up, gesturing towards Olivia. You look up, and your eyes widen in surprise. Your lips turned up and you laughed with the blonde next to you.

"What is she even looking at?" You asked, seeing how Olivia was looking around. If not for Taylor's presence, and the comfy dim lighting in the bedroom, you would have thought the cat was seeing ghosts.

"Dibbles, come here." she mentions Olivia's nickname, reaching out her hand. But Olivia only continued her blank, lost expression, with her pupils dilated.

You were about to continue and put the cat videos on, but then you find one with a cat that was doing the same thing as Olivia was doing.

"Oh, my god, they have the exact same face." You said, pointing to your phone screen and Olivia. Taylor looked, and her eyes follow the happiness of her laugh.

"They do!!" she said, nearly bending over in her laugh. Finally, her cat returned to normal as she did, but she was still giggling loudly along with you. She shakes her head, smiling softly. "That is amazing."

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

taglist <3 - join here! :]

@dmenby3100 @wandsmxmff @tia-thesimp @marvelwomen-simp @escapereality4music @fawnedolly @justgayloringeverthrone @lovelyy-moonlight @stevecore @midastouch013 @liloandstitchstan @maleahoswick @raven-ss

[sanguineterrain]

Hii I am more of a silent reader but really want to start making requests but if you don't like this request you totally don't have to do it. All so if this is too long sorry.

So maybe a Jason prompt with "why not them why me" like they have been spending more time with the Bat boys, making Jason jealous. They confesses they did it to be liked by her boyfriend's family.

Hey anon! Thanks for the request. I tweaked it a little, but it's got the same theme you requested. Hope you like!

jason todd x gn!reader. jealous/sad jason, happy ending, proposal, established relationship. he's the goodest boy. ft the batbros.

****

It's close to nine PM when Dick finally drops you off home.

You turn to Damian first and hold out your hand, expecting him to give you his usual handshake goodbye.

Instead, Damian pats your shoulder and gives you a nod. You blink, startled.

"Today was enjoyable," he says, holding the book about saltwater creatures that he got from the zoo. "I will inform Todd that he has chosen well."

In Damian speak, you may as well have gotten a hug and a blessing.

"Oh," you say, trying not to tear up. "Thank you, Damian. I had a good time, too. Thank you both for spending the day with me."

"This was a test," Damian says, and Dick rolls his eyes in the rear view mirror.

"Dami, stop calling it a test. It wasn't a test."

"Richard, I don't know why you insist on lying. They obviously have figured out that it was a test. In any case, they've passed, so it doesn't matter."

You hide a smile as Dick gives up and gets out of the car. He opens your door.

"I'll see you later, Damian," you say. "Good luck with your science test."

"I do not need luck," Damian replies. "But I appreciate the sentiment. Goodbye."

You follow Dick into your apartment building. You're happy; last week, you spent the day with Tim and Cassandra. The week before that, you officially met Bruce and Alfred.

Dick and Damian were the last "test," and the ones you were most nervous about. From what Jason's told you about his family, Dick and Damian, while total opposites in temperament, are extremely shrewd in their judgments of character, and not easy to please. For all that Dick is friendly and warm, you know he's studying your every move to ensure that you're a good match for his little brother. Not that you blame them; you're sure that being children of a billionaire has resulted in some awful dates.

Today was your fourth outing with Dick, and your second with Damian. At first, Damian seemed totally closed off to you, which you understood. You're his brother's partner; what twelve year old gives a shit about that?

But you feel you've made good progress today. You feel like the Wayne's really like you, and don't just tolerate you because they have to.

"Please don't listen to him," Dick says while you wait for the elevator. "Damian thinks every social interaction is a test. We're working on it."

"It's okay," you say, because it is. "I get it. I'm glad I passed."

Dick shakes his head. "It was never a matter of passing. We thought you were great the first time Jason introduced you to us."

"Dick..." You melt at that, both out of relief and fondness. Dick is probably your favorite one of Jason's brothers, after Damian, of course. He's the most sympathetic to your attempts at connecting with the family and the one who's the gentlest with you.

He smiles, all sunshine, and you're abruptly glad that Jason has a family like this one.

"Are you gonna ask him this week?" Dick asks.

You bite your lip, unable to hide your smile. "I think so. What do you think?"

"I think it's perfect. He doesn't like all that fuss. And you'll be letting him know that you want to marry just him. Not when you're dressed up, on a date, but all of him."

"I do," you say, voice thick. "I do want that, D."

He nods, eyes soft. "I know. I'll see you next week," he says. "Don't worry about the dinner, okay? You're practically family now. And I expect to see a ring!"

He pulls you into a quick hug, and you sag in relief. You did well. It's been confirmed.

"Thank you," you say softly.

The elevator doors open. Dick lets you go, and you wait for the doors to close before you go to your apartment.

"You're out late."

You jump, almost dropping your bag of zoo souvenirs. Jason is leaning against the couch, arms folded. You laugh a little, holding your chest.

"Jay, you scared me! Jeez."

You go to him and lean in for a kiss. He dodges you, slipping away to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

You blink owlishly, trying to process what just happened.

"Um," you begin. "Is everything okay?"

"So where was it this time?" Jason asks. "Escape room? Art museum? Some other place you can't be seen with me?"

"Jason, what are you talking about?"

He finally looks at you. His gaze is intense, lethal. It makes you take a step back. He turns away.

"Where'd you go today? And be honest."

"We went to the zoo, and then we went to dinner. Me, Dick, and Damian. Jay, what's this about?"

Jason looks up. His gaze is no longer lethal; now it's just melancholy.

"Are you with me to get to them?" he asks.

"Get to who?"

"The Bats. Gotham's finest. Bruce Wayne's rag-tag group of orphans he can't stop collecting."

"Are you asking me if I'm in this relationship to get to your family?" you ask, unable to keep the frustration out of your voice.

"Yes. That's exactly what I'm asking. I'm asking if you like my media-trained, not-undead family who you can actually spend time with publicly. I'm asking if you like my Boy Wonder brother, who'd probably show you a better time than I can."

"Jason Wayne, I have never cheated on you or thought about cheating on you. With Dick or anyone else," you say firmly. "Now, what's this about?"

Jason's face falls.

"You're right," he says quietly. "That was stupid 'f me to say. I know you're faithful, baby."

He won't look you in the eye now. It is reminiscent of the beginning of your relationship when Jason would retreat whenever you argued. It wasn't until you confronted him about it that you learned that he thought every argument was your last and that you'd break up with him the next day.

"Jay," you say, getting closer. "Something's obviously bothering you. Talk to me, please."

He stays quiet. You get close enough to touch him, but you don't, in case he's not ready to be touched yet.

"Why me?" he rasps.

"Why you what?"

He takes a sharp breath. "Why not them? Why me? Why d'you bother with me?"

"Jay, baby, where's this coming from? I don't bother with you, I love you. I am in a relationship with you because I want to be."

"You've hung out with them this whole month," he mumbles. "And I know we can't go out anytime 'cause I'm technically dead, but I just—I mean, we could work something out if you really wanna go. I wanna do that stuff with you too."

"Jason, no, no," you say, and reach for him. This time, he lets you pull him into a hug, and you kiss his chin. He makes a soft sound in his throat.

"Oh, honey, is that what this is about? You think I'm replacing you?"

"'S happened before," he mumbles, and you screw your face up so you won't cry at that.

"Jason, I—" You take a deep breath and release him until you're holding his hands. "Fuck me, I guess there's no time like the present."

Jason squints. "What're you—"

"I met them to ask for their blessing," you say before you can lose your nerve. "I hung out with them because I wanted to make sure they'd like me, and I should've told you, but I wanted to keep it a surprise."

"Keep what a surprise? Sweetheart, what's—"

You let go of Jason's hands and get down on one knee. Jason's eyes go wide.

"Holy fuck," he says, and you laugh wetly.

"Jaybird, we've been together for a long time, and I'm positive that you're the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I hung out with your family this month so I could be sure that we'd get along. Because I know they're important to you, even if you have your rough patches."

"Holy fuck," Jason says again, eyes glassy.

You smile and pull out the black velvet box with the ring that Alfred had helped you choose.

"Jason Wayne, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you—mmph!"

Jason is on you in an instant, and the box tumbles from your hand. He presses you to the floor and kisses you hard, his hands squeezing your waist.

"Jay, this part is supposed to come after we get married, not before," you say when he finally lets you break for air.

"What can I say? Commitment gets me hot."

You wrap your arms around his neck, comfortable under him. Jason kisses you again, softer and sweeter.

"So is that a yes?" you ask.

"It's an emphatic yes, oui, si, ja, da..."

"Okay, I get it, Bruce put you in private school," you say, rolling your eyes. Jason pinches your hip and you squeal.

He rolls you over so you're atop him.

"I'm sorry I said those things," he says. "I didn't—I know you wouldn't do that. I was just upset, but I shouldn't have accused you out of anger."

"I forgive you," you say and kiss his temple. "It's not the last fight we'll have, and if I was afraid of a few arguments, I wouldn't ask you to marry me, Jay. Thank you for communicating."

"Fuck, I love ya," he whispers, and hugs you tighter.

"Ditto!" you say, and he snorts.

"So my entire family knows I'm getting married then, huh?"

"What? No. I only told Dick."

Jason laughs. "Yeah. Everybody definitely knows."

"Jay, I didn't mean..."

"Aw, baby, no, it's okay. I never thought I'd actually make it this far, so it's really okay." He kisses your nose when you start to frown. "And I'm the first Wayne to get married for real. Suck it, B!"

"Please don't put that in your vows, Jay."

Jason grins so hard, his cheeks puff out.

"No promises, fiance."

[cherriegyuu]

Willow | 03

pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader genre: fluff, marriage of convenience word count: 2.1k summary: seungcheol always knew that he was going to marry you, but things only get harder once he does (or in which seungcheol is just really dumb and doesn't know how to show his feelings)

part one | part two | part three (final) | drabble

Dates with Seungcheol were always something to look forward to because he always planned it, to the little details. And somehow he found ways to add a little sprinkle of the past in it.

The first date, which happened only two days after you found the courage to talk to each other, had been simple. Seungcheol took you to a sushi place close to the academy you worked at. Next week I'll take somewhere nicer, he said then I'm going woo the fuck out of you. You laughed because that wasn't necessary, at all. The fancy dinners and the gifts had no real importance on the way you saw him. 

Because Seungcheol could have taken you anywhere, to have dinner at the top of the Eiffel Tower or the street seller in an alleyway somewhere. Anywhere he took you, you would have loved it. Not because the food was nice and the place was beautiful, but because it was him. Sure, all of that helped but those weren't the main reasons. And the dates truthfully played a very small part in how you felt about him.

You liked having breakfast with him every day, liked how if he had a chance he would pick you up after work, liked to have dinner with him. Somehow you found yourself enjoying hearing about his work, though some of it went completely over your head, he was passionate about it. He loved being a lawyer just as much as you loved being a teacher. 

And in exchange, Seungcheol loved hearing about your work too, about your day. He was mesmerized by your smile when you talked about a student who was struggling and finally caught the hang of it, he loved how proud you seemed.

But more than anything he loved that the two of you had gotten closer over the past few weeks. Seungcheol thought that it would be harder, that those four months of barely any contact and the weight of a marriage of convenience would take its toll on your relationship, that it would make it that much harder to get closer to each other. It was the exact opposite, though. 

If anything, it drew you closer.

The first thing you did was be honest, or at least as honest as Seungcheol saw possible without scaring you away from him. He knew that he should just come out and say that he had been in love with you for years, that despite everything he did there had never been someone else in his heart. 

To say that he didn’t date would be a lie, he thought that if he filled his time with another person then all thoughts of you would slowly disappear. It didn’t happen that way. The second he felt himself start to think less of you, something would happen and you were in his mind all over again. 

It had been a vicious cycle until the wedding, the initial issues you had, and then those moments. 

He could still think back to the moment he kissed you for the first time. It was on date number five. At that point, you had already some sort of routine together. Breakfast together, he would text you at random moments of the day — there was nothing to say but he wanted to let you know, even if it was subtly, that you were in his mind —, and then dinner, either at home or out.

That day Seungcheol texted you around 2 pm to let you know that he would pick up for the date. Apparently, it’s going to rain today, so I’ll pick you up. You tried to tell him that he didn’t have to, that you could take the subway as you had planned, especially because if it did rain then the traffic would be insane. Seungcheol’s only reply had been wait for me, i’ll come pick you up.

You decided not to fight him because even if there was traffic, his car would be much more enjoyable than the overpacked subway. And you liked this version of Seungcheol, the one that cared for you, that always seemed to go out of his way to make sure that you were comfortable around him. He was someone who liked to protect those around him, you realized then, and you were always on the receiving end. 

It was around 5:30 when the first drops of rain started to fall and barely a second later the first lighting broke the sky in two. And it was fine, the lighting and rain were okay. But thunder? That was when things got that much more complicated for you. You hated it, hated how loud it was, how it shook the windows as if they could break at any second. 

You searched for your earphones in your bag, only to remember that you left them on your bed, in a hurry to leave in the morning. 

You don’t remember exactly when it first started, your fear of thunderstorms. All you know is that the first one you remember happened when you were seven years old. You here home then, your parents were downstairs with Seungcheol’s parents. You were scared, your entire body shook but you made no sound and just hid under the covers, tightly hugging a teddy bear you got for your birthday while quietly humming a song to yourself.

As an adult, in your workplace, there were no covers to hide under and no plushy to hug, but at least there was music. You sat down in front of the piano, your fingers pressings the keys with ease. The song itself didn’t matter, you just needed something else to focus your mind for a while until the thunder stopped. 

You there were there for maybe an hour when you felt someone sit by your side. For a second you were startled until you realized that it was Seungcheol. His hair and suit were wet as he smiled at you. It was the sweetest smile he had ever given you until then, filled with so much kindness and something else that you couldn’t put your finger on. But it was right there on the surface and for the first time you allowed yourself to think that maybe you felt that too, whatever it was. 

“It’s been a really long time since I saw you play for the last time”

You took him in again, the way his hair was falling on his forehead completely damp from the rain outside, the dark grey suit he wore when he left the apartment in the morning was now almost black due to the water.

You didn’t mean to but it was like your hands had a mind of their own, in one second they were on the piano keys, and in the next one they were on his face. At first, you were only supposed to push his hair away from his eyes but you caught yourself running your fingertips over his eyebrows, cheekbone, and jaw until you finally pulled away. Or tried to. 

The second your skin wasn’t against his, Seungcheol pulled your hand back to his face, cupping his cheek. He leaned into it for a second, before pressing a soft kiss on your palm. Never once did his eyes left yours. 

The intensity of the moment was almost too much but you couldn’t look away from him, as if you were in some sort of trance. The world outside that room no longer matter, the rain and thunder were just background noise to the sound of your heart beating like crazy inside your chest. 

“When did you get here?”

He closed his eyes for a second and sighed, still pressing your palm against his cheek. Seungcheol held your hand in place because he didn't want you to let go of him but you wouldn't have.

"A few minutes ago, I was watching you play"

Your other hand came to his face as well. Seungcheol was shaking, visibly so, due to the rain. It was winter so there was no way that he wasn’t cold. 

“You should have called me, I would have met you in the car”

Seungcheol shook his head. He didn’t like to walk in the rain and hated the fact that he was soaked, but he would have hated himself more if he missed the sight of you playing the piano. That was one of his favorite things when he was still in school. He used to stay outside your practice room and just listen to you play. There were very few occasions when you allowed Seungcheol to actually watch you and in those moments he was the happiest. You were in your element, doing what you loved the most and he got to watch you for a little while. 

“Are you still scared of thunderstorms?” he said instead. 

The truth was that Seungcheol’s feelings were right on the surface, he struggled to keep them hidden from you. He wanted to say it all, tell you the truth about how he felt about you since the two of you were teenagers, but he knew that it was too soon for you. You were still getting used to being around him so you still kept your distance from him.

Your actions had surprised him, to say the least. He thought that even sitting so close to you was pushing his luck, but there you were holding him and there was this look in your eyes. Seungcheol didn’t know what it was, he could only hope that maybe, just maybe, you were growing feelings for him. 

“You know about that?” you pulled your hands away from his face and closed the piano. 

The way he looked at you was too meaningful almost. It was scary to think what that look meant, what it could entitle. But it was even more scary to find that your feelings for Seungcheol were growing. In such a short time, he made his presence known in your life. 

He was everywhere. When you woke up the first thing you thought about was him. You’d stay in complete silence in bed, listening intensely to the sounds outside your room, wishing that he was already up. You kept stealing glances at your phone, waiting for his reply to a text. Randomly you’d catch yourself smiling because you remembered something he did, something he said, or just overall him. 

Seungcheol was taking over all of your thoughts little by little. 

“Yeah, of course” he tentatively held your hand and was relieved when you didn’t pull away “Do you remember how we used to hide under your bed until it eventually stopped?”

Those memories were ones that you always held very close to your heart, but never once was Seungcheol in them. You remembered being under the bad, someone humming a song next to you, while tightly holding your hand. That person, however, didn’t really have a face so you always just assumed that it was your brother. Because although he always made fun of you for being scared, he was always one to help you when you needed it. 

“That was you?”

“Who else would it be?”

You don’t know what came over you, what kind of thoughts crossed your mind, or even if there was anything at all. Maybe it was one of those moments of a completely silent mind when actions just sort of happen because the filter that’s supposed to help you doesn’t work.

You leaned forward ever so slightly, still unsure, but Seungcheol was there to meet you halfway. He pressed his lips over yours, ever so lightly at first. As if testing that the kiss was something you wanted, as if asking for permission. When you didn’t pull away he pressed harder, his hand holding the back of your neck while he deepened the kiss. 

It felt like fireworks were erupting under your skin, like something had finally clicked into place. Because maybe that was where you were supposed to be all along, with him. 

That was the kiss you expected on your wedding day, while you were taking pictures, that was the kiss you remembered from the night you played spin the bottle. It was everything and then some more. At that moment you were kissing him because you wanted to, because there was nothing else in the world you’d rather be boing, not because someone dared him to kiss you, or to have something to show for your wedding pictures. 

Seungcheol was the first one to pull away, resting his forehead on yours, his breathing heavy.

“I hope you know, this changes everything,” he said quietly, his voice barely a whisper “I was holding back but there’s no way I can stop myself now”

You did your best to stop the smile that was trying to break on your lips. 

‘Let’s go home, husband”

Maybe, falling for your husband wasn’t that much of a bad idea.

hi! thank you for reading willow, i really hope you enjoyed. reblogs and liked are always welcomed.

taglist: @belladaises @minghaossv @lol6sposts @weebotakuboy @alifethatsonlyonthepage @donquixotesvt @dearlosver @dearxia @yogurttea @royal9 @desi-brownie @feat-sun @itsveronicaxxx @soonyoonswoo @xcynthiaaa @wondering-out-loud @matchahyuck @allmylove613 @g0lden-sunset

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[4:02 pm]

"Nobody would ever believe me," you whispered to yourself as you looked down at Renjun and carded your fingers through his silky hair.

He hummed, eyes blinking slowly in comfort and pleasure, “huh?”

“Nothing honey, just the show,” you reply nonchalantly, though your eyes are locked on your sleepy boyfriend on your lap. You raise your phone just out of his sight and snap a picture. It was a cute memory, but it could also be used for blackmail knowing your boyfriend.

This was a very, very rare occurrence. Renjun willingly being affectionate, seeking out your affection, and while the sun was out. Usually, Renjun was a bit like a huffy, mean toddler when you tried you get affection from him. He puffed out his cheeks and pushed your hands away, only wanting affection when he was ready for it. It was something you’d gotten used to in your relationship. He wasn’t overly affectionate, which was fine, not everyone was. This just made it all the more special when he did go out of his way to initiate affection with you.

Usually, this would happen when he was sick, had been gone for a while, or, like now, was tired. He had snuck up onto your lap, gently laid his head in your lap, curled up, and pulled your hand to his hair. It was cute.

However, it was now unfortunate that a sense one boredom was sinking in and the tv remote was on the opposite end of the couch. You tried reaching to no avail. You leaned over as far as you could without disturbing Renjun and still couldn’t reach. What were you going to do?

His eyes were fully closed with soft breaths escaping him. He looked so peaceful. You reached for a throw pillow and as carefully as you could you lifted his head and slid the pillow under. He whined quietly, shifting to get comfortable before calming down. You got the remote and stretched your legs. While you were up, why not move around?

You walked to your room to change into pajamas, you had just changed when a pouty Renjun walked into the room and threw his arms around your waist. “You left me,” he whined tiredly.

“I wanted to get comfortable,” you reply. You go to move forward and find that Renjun shuffles forward with you.

You take another step and he moved with you again, “are you going to let go?”

You can feel him shake his head against your back where his cheek is pressed to your sweater, “it’s your punishment for leaving me alone.”

And really it was your own fault for thinking someone as stubborn as Renjun wouldn’t follow through with this pettiness. You walked to the kitchen with Renjun stuck to your back, he moved with you at every bend of the waist, reaching on the tips of your toes, and lean against the cabinet doors.

“Can you hurry up?” He huffed as you munched on some chips while staring into the fridge.

“You can go lay down, I’ll be right there,” you offer instead.

“Or you can pick something from the fridge and take it with you while we both go to the couch, come on,” he urges.

“But I can’t decide if I want strawberries or grapes. And I really haven’t drank enough water today but the lemonade is calling my name,” you ponder aloud.

Renjun half groans, half whines, his arms tightening around your waist. “Get the strawberries and lemonade and let’s go! Please.”

You laugh, following his directions before shuffling back to the couch. Renjun watches you get comfortable before laying down on top of you, his previous sleepiness gone for the moment as he opens his mouth with an “ahh” for a bite of strawberry.

You lean down, peppering his cheeks with affectionately aggressive kisses, “you’re so cute Renjun!”

He groans out loudly, moving his head away, but does nothing else to stop your affection, Stop it!”

“My little clingy baby! Tell me you love me.”

He scowls, his cheeks red with embarrassment, “who says I do?”

You scoff, “how about you whining and clinging to me like a baby koala?”

He huffs, eyes locked on the screen for a second of silence before he finally replies, “delete the picture you took and I’ll tell you.”

Your jaw drops as you gasp, “how did you know I even took a picture? I won’t show anyone, I promise!”

He raises his eyebrows, giving you a skeptical look from the corner of his eyes, “pinky promise?”

You interlock your pinkies, “with a cherry on top.”

“Fine… I love you, I guess,” he sighs out in faux annoyance.

You smile brightly, pressing another series of kisses to his cheeks, “I knew it!”

He turns his body fully, giving you a questioning look, “you’re not even going to say it back?”

[ladykibutsuji]

“ᴛᴇᴀʀs ᴏғ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴜʀᴇ”

☆ Yoriichi x Reader ☆

‼️ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ‼️

WARNING: SEX, CHEATING, MATURE CONTENT

° I do not support these actions in real life, Everything I mentioned is only for a Fictional story.

° I also do not own the dividers and picture used, A friend suggested it.

[MODERN AU]

° You are the Fiancé of Michikatsu Tsugikuni, The eldest of a Well-known family. . And one of Japan's most successful Entrepreneur.

Michikatsu Tsugikuni treated you like a queen, he would spoil you with the most expensive jewelries and bags while pampering you with love and kisses.

Not to mention, Aside from being treated like a Queen he treated you as his 'Little plaything' In bed, He was an absolute beast making you see stars with each thrust he does.

For you it felt like you were living in heaven, Being taken care of properly with the right amount of love and affection. Unfortunately not all good things last forever

For the past few weeks, you noticed Michikatsu's odd behavior such as distancing himself from you, Facing the opposite side of your shared bed refusing to even touch you or look at you, Being more often out of town, and Being too close to his Secretary.

Everytime you would visit his work place, You can see the looks he exchanged with his Secretary yet. . You couldn't bring yourself to blame him because you are indeed out of the secretary's league

She had a long wavy blonde hair with a pretty pair of 'blue eyes' that looks like the ocean itself, The uniform given to her was tight and small so it exposed her perfect hour-glass body, She was pale and Tall almost reaching Michikatsu's height. Just mentioning all of these made you insecure about yourself.

Today was your anniversary with Michikatsu and You wanted to surprise your Fiancé so you book a reservation at a Exclusive Restaurant.

Michikatsu promised to be home before 9:00 so you started getting ready at 6:00.

TIMESKIP

8:40 PM

You are already done with your make up and hair so you decided to put on your Dress, it was a sleeveless midi long velvet purple dress with side slit.

You choosed this purple dress since purple was one of Michikatsu's favorite colours.

You then sprayed your Dior perfume all over yourself and grabbed your purse, You then walked towards the mirror and observed yourself to see if everything is alright.

"Alright! I'm all ready" You spoke to yourself and quickly went downstairs to wait for Michikatsu.

9:40 PM

You are currently sitting in a big comfy white couch while scrolling through Tumblr. the time on top of your phone screen caught your attention and you noticed the It was already 9:40 and Michikatsu still haven't arrive.

Your hope in michikatsu was fading but you still choosed to not listen to your fading hope.

maybe he's just late

BUZZ

A notification was heard from your phone and you quickly went to check it hoping it was michikatsu.

[Y/N] 8:39

Hello! I miss you so much, goodluck at your work!

[Y/N] 8:45

Oh btw, choose a color.. violet or purple?

[Y/N] 8:50

I thought you will be home before 9 😭

[Y/N] 9:00

I love you 😗

[Michikatsu] 9:41

Sorry, I couldn't reply to you earlier I was busy.

[Y/N] 9:41

That's fine! Are you on your way home yet? ^^

[Michikatsu] 9:45

I know I promised to be home before 9 but it didn't go as planned.

I have to attend a important business party.

I'll be off now I still have a lot to do.

Stay safe my lovey

[Y/N] 9:45

Oh..

'Liar' you muttered under your breath.

You felt sad and angry at the same time since michikatsu kept on breaking his promises though you tried to understand his situation

A notification was heard from your phone again and you decided to check the notification. . It was a notification from michikatsu's latest post on Instagram

You clicked on the Instagram notification and saw that it was a group picture of michikatsu and his colleagues. His Secretary was standing too close to him holding his arm while he was holding a glass of wine. They were even matching clothes, both in purple huh?

pathetic.

It was pathetic that you are overthinking right now just because of this.

You didn't want to feel miserable so you decided to distract yourself by drinking champagne, You walked over to the refrigerator and found a few champagne you kept before.

'Looks like it's a date for me and myself."

7 bottles down.

You were a crying mess and your vision turned blurry because of the continuous tears dropping thinking about where did you go wrong for Michikatsu to choose her over YOU.

'Am I not pretty enough?', The negative thoughts won't leave your head as you tried to fight the thoughts away however it was useless.

You're useless for him

RING RING

You could hear the doorbell rang and your eyes lit up thinking it was michikatsu at the door.

You rushed to the door and as soon as you opened it you saw yoriichi Your fiancé standing at the gates.

Your vision was blurry but you can tell that it was michikatsu it's not

"Michikatsu! I knew you would return!" You said excitedly as you unlocked the gates, hugging him as soon as he stepped a foot in the Estate.

"Y/N? I'm not michikatsu." You completely ignored the dude refusing to accept that he wasn't michikatsu. "Your jokes are silly" you giggled playfully.

Yoriichi stared at you with a concerned look and he noticed that you smell like alcohol, "Have you been drinking?" He asked.

"no~" you denied, before he could say anything you dragged his arms with you going back inside Michikatsu's Estate "it's cold here Hun, let's go inside!"

Yoriichi was seating in the couch at the living room while you were sat besides him blabbing non-stop about your 'overthinking'

"I shouldn't have introduced you to him if I know this would happened." He said bringing himself closer to you and placing a hand on your chin.

Yoriichi was your childhood friend, you have been friends since elementary and he was the one to introduce his older brother michikatsu to you.

Introducing His Older brother to you was his greatest mistake

"eh?" Before you could even react to the situation yoriichi pulled you in for a kiss.

You melted into the kiss, it was so passionate. His kiss was full of love, it was the kind of kiss you seek for.

The younger tsugikuni was indeed the better kisser.

He then pulled away from the kiss leaving you in surprise and shock.

"Y/N, please give me a chance." Yoriichi then gently grabbed your other hand, placing it on his chest.

"I swear, I'll be better than my older brother."

Yoriichi knew that you were drunk and he took advantaged of this, He was too tired of always playing as the 'Good Guy'

After all, Good guys always finish last.

He wasn't going to let it happened again, The Gods gave him another chance to fix his mistake and he definitely won't waste it.

You were still drunk and couldn't think properly, You couldn't believe what Yoriichi was saying "I can't, michikatsu is—"

You then remembered what Michikatsu did. He was messing around with other women isn't he? so why not play his 'little game'

Play the game or get played.

'it's time for a change isn't it? Fine. I'll play your game michikatsu.'

"Let's take this in the room." You said as you pulled yoriichi to your shared room with Michikatsu

As soon as you reached the room, yoriichi locked the door behind him and he carried your body placing you onto the bed you shared with Michikatsu.

The same bed where you promised to love each other through life and death.

He then captured your lips owning them and making them his. His tongue then licked your lower lip asking for permission to enter your Mouth to which you granted him access to. While fighting for dominance yoriichi started to pull your purple dress down while undoing your bra as you melt deeper into the kiss. As expected yoriichi dominated you and he freely explored the walls of your mouth as you helplessly let him explore you. He then pulled away from the kiss leaving a string of saliva, he then licked your mouth to cut the string.

Since yoriichi pulled down your dress and undid your bra earlier you are now only in your panties, he eyed you down and smirked as his hand freely roamed around your body, tracing your curves and playing with your nipples. Feeling his warm touch upon your skin made you shiver in ecstasy.

"Your body must be heaven's gift." he said as he started undoing his belt and soon as he lowered his pants Yoriichi's big veiny cock was on display. You gulped at the size of his cock it was even bigger than what you imagined and not to mention his size was definitely way bigger than his older brother's.

Could this even fit?

"Suck" He demanded, you gave onto his orders and you slowly stroked his huge cock. His cock was warm, yoriichi's cock then twitched in the air as you continued stroking his member.

You moved both your hands up and down, back and forth, jerking yoriichi off at a nice and steady pace before fully taking him on with your mouth.

"Oh fuck y/n.." Yoriichi moaned softly as he shivered from her touch, Yoriichi's arousal was rising quickly and he got impatient so he gripped onto your hair and shoving you onto his Dick

"Sorry, I'm getting a bit impatient here. Open your mouth" he ordered you to open your mouth to which you obeyed immediately, he then pushed his cock all the way down to your throat causing you to gagged at the sudden action.

He was still gripping on your hair as you started to suck him off, Licking his member up and down while stroking the part that was out of your reach.

"N-ngh~ Good girl just like that" yoriichi was moaning in pleasure while you were giving him a blowjob, with each seconds flew by he was getting closer to his climax.

"Keep moving, I'm getting closer" He moaned , as you enjoyed the sounds he is making for his moans are music to your ears.

Yoriichi still kept a grip on Your hair as he reached his orgasm, pumping his salty cum into your mouth and all the way down to your throat. You gagged and couldn't properly breath at the quantity that he just released on your mouth not letting his seed escape from your mouth.

You swallowed all of the cum that was released onto your mouth and started panting trying to catch your breath while yoriichi smirked, he wasn't done with you

"What a good girl, you deserve a reward"

"Lay on your back" He commanded as you hesitantly layed on your back, he then spread your legs wide open and started rubbing your panties.

"Look, your panty is soaked." He then took your panty off and started to play with your clit, making you shiver at his actions.

"Tongue or fingers?" He asked, you then melted into embarrassment too shy to answer him but then again you are already doing it so you might aswell continue.

"tongue please." He gave you a nod as his warm wet tongue slid inside your pussy. you could feel his saliva mixing with your own wetness, You felt like crying out of ecstasy, His tongue hit your clit and you felt butterflies in your stomach. His tongue moved back down near your cunt, You squeezed the sheets "Y-yoriichi~ more please" you begged.

Yoriichi licked and sucked over and over again. your legs began to shake while moaning out his name "mphh~ Yes right there~"

His hot breath against her clit made her sensitive and shivered. Your pussy tasted delicious for yoriichi, he was enjoying every second he licked your cunt. The more you moan his name, the more he wanted to make you cum like a mess. He pressed his face more in between your shaking legs, sucking on your clit and tongue fucking your cunt. The harder he licked, the more you gain pleasure and suddenly yoriichi hit that 'one spot' making you cry out loudly in pleasure. "fuckk, yoriichi!" You moaned loudly. Yoriichi didn't stop tongue-fucking you as he is well aware that you are close to your orgasm and as expected within a few minutes a fresh splash of cum was all over his tongue and he swallowed it. Your cum is now his favorite dessert.

Yoriichi gave you a minute to catch your breath as he prepared his cock to enter your pussy, "Are you ready?"

You gave him a weak nod as he positioned himself Infront of your cunt. Yoriichi was slowly entering your pussy and it felt painful due to his size, yoriichi interwined his fingers with yours to support you as he placed a light kiss on your forehead muttering a 'You can do it my dear'

"It hurts!" You cried out, yoriichi wiped your tears away as he gave you a kiss on the side of your lips "You can do it my love, just a bit more."

Yoriichi's cock finally entered your pussy as you are still grunting in pain trying to get used to his size, "Tell me when to move" yoriichi said as he tucked in some of the your hair behind your ears. His size was massive and this was the first time you had such a massive cock inside you. Sure michikatsu was big but yoriichi was even bigger compared to him!

You then gave him nod signaling him to move, he then started thrusting onto you while grunting "shit, I didn't expect you to be this tight", He then started picking up his pace going faster every second his heavy balls hitting you as the room was filled with your moans and yoriichi's grunts.

"you feel great y/n i-i can't get enough of you" yoriichi moaned, "Yori-" you were about to say something until yoriichi pulled you for a deep kiss, he then pulled away from the kiss saying "I love you Y/N"

You struggled to answer at first since yoriichi was hitting the perfect spot "I-i love you too yoriichi", With each hard thrust the both of you were close to having an orgasm, Having sex with your fiancé's younger brother was a fucked up decision but life is already fucked up anyways so what's the difference?

Atleast yoriichi knows how to be there for me in times of needs.

"I-I..ngh~" you moaned struggling to form a sentence from the pleasure so yoriichi answered for you "Close? Me too love." He expressed as he sped up slamming his gigantic cock onto your pussy walls completely destroying it.

You reached your orgasm moaning yoriichi's name out loud, Yoriichi was still aiming for his own orgasm so he was still slamming his hard cock onto your pussy.

When he finally reached his orgasm, he cummed inside of you which made you slightly moaned.

He then lay down besides you, the both of you are breathing heavily trying to catch your breath.

"that was amazing yoriichi." You praised him while he looked over to you giving you a smile "You did great aswell Y/N."

He gave you a kiss on the lips and you could feel him smirk against your lips.

You are no longer his older brother's

But his.

° That night, yoriichi helped you clean up yourself and he was the one who took care of the house while you are resting in your room.

He didn't want michikatsu to suspect a thing so he excused himself to leave early that morning before michikatsu returns and you said your goodbyes, kissing him on the lips before he left.

Michikatsu then returned that afternoon, immediately searching for you "My dear, I'm home!" He announced happily.

He expected you to hug him or greet him with a kiss but all he got was silence, he then went up to your shared bedroom and saw you sleeping peacefully. He never saw you sleep in the afternoon which was kind of odd but he figured that you just got busy earlier that day and went to take a rest.

He then sat beside your sleeping body as he tucked some of your H/C behind your ears 'You look as beautiful as the day I meet you.' he expressed while staring at you with eyes full of love and admiration.

You slowly woke up and you were greeted by a kiss on your cheek, you noticed that it was michikatsu, you didn't expect him to return today since he said he will be busy for the month.

"Dear, I have a surprise for you" He said, you gently yawned and rubbed your eyes still feeling your legs a bit sore from last night.

You responded in a sleepy voice "W-what is it?" He then chuckled at your expression, he finds it cute when you are sleepy.

"it seems that are too sleepy to even move so I'll carry you at my back c'mere" michikatsu said as he offered his back to you, you declined saying that you can walk yourself but he insisted so you just sighed in defeat and agreed to be carried on his back.

You find it odd on how he's being extra sweet today when he was literally cold towards you the past few weeks.

Did he got bored of his Secretary?

As you were getting closer to the destination your eyes got slightly hurt from the sunlight. So you closed your eyes in the mean time hoping that it would go away.

"look my dear, I bought you the car you always wanted." Michikatsu said as you slowly opened your eyes to see your dream car right right Infront of you

Your eyes widened at this and joy filled your body "Wh-what? You didn't have to! This must be expensive" he then chuckled "Don't worry about it my dear, this is just one of my gifts for your approaching birthday. I'm sorry if I got busy or cold towards you the past few weeks I just got stressed thinking about how to surprise you on your birthday and trying to finish all my works before your birthday so I could get a day-off for your birthday."

So that's why he was busy..but what about his Secretary?

"Also, my Cousin helped me with the all the gifts and planning hehe~" he said as he placed me down.

You tilted your head in confusion, which cousin? "who?"

"My Secretary"

Your eyes then widened when he answered your question, Did you misunderstood the situation? Or is he trying to fool you?

"she's your cousin? She doesn't look like you"

He then felt offended thinking that you thought of him as "ugly" compared to his female cousin, "I get that a lot."

He then showed you a childhood picture of him and his Secretary, you gently observed the picture and it was indeed the secretary you were jealous of.

"She also told me she's into girls so I didn't really bother introducing her to you because I'm afraid she might steal you from me" Michikatsu expressed with a sad face.

Wrong Move

This is why communication is important to avoid misunderstanding and such.

[twistedcrumbs2]

Just an intrusive thought to add to the series of random ideas that strike me throughout the day—this time while working out to the most chaotic playlist you can imagine.

A workout routine with Jack!

Maybe you’ve suddenly found yourself dropped into another world, surrounded by traumatized and slightly unhinged students (or completely unhinged, depending on how you look at it), all while trying to survive the chaos of an insane school semester. Naturally, you’ve barely had any time to care for yourself. Just maybe.

Then, during one of Professor Vargas’ motivational lectures—peppered with lines like “Exercise is essential for self-care! Just look at me!” and “A healthy mind lives in a healthy body!”—a thought crosses your mind: “Alright, one hour of exercise a day won’t kill me… probably.”

To be fair, realizing you can’t even chase Grim around the dorm without gasping for air and nearly collapsing was the final push you needed. Something had to change—and fast.

The problem? You have no idea where to start. After mulling it over, you decide to drop by the athletic club. Watching others train might give you a clue (or, let’s be real, trigger some anxiety—there are a lot of sweaty guys in short shorts, after all).

As soon as you arrive, the first familiar faces you spot are Jack and Deuce, who immediately look at you like you’ve just fallen out of the sky (which, admittedly, isn’t far from the truth).

After some chatting, you explain why you’re there. Jack, much to your surprise, seems more excited about your decision than you are.

And let’s be honest—given his physique, it’s no shock that the wolf beastman is the living embodiment of a gym rat. As you ramble about wanting to get into shape, his tail swishes back and forth, his subtle smile betraying just how thrilled he is.

— That’s great. If you need anything, just let me know, — he offers sincerely.

And, of course, you take him up on it. Jack is easily the most dedicated person you know when it comes to fitness, and more importantly, he’s kind enough not to expect something outrageous in return.

But it’s a terrible decision.

Not because Jack is bad at helping—quite the opposite. He’s an incredible instructor: patient, committed, and always willing to lend a hand. The issue is that you were expecting something easy. A casual evening stroll, maybe some jumping jacks. Nope.

Instead, Jack shows up that very weekend with a detailed workout plan, complete with an intimidating ABCD schedule (whatever that means), exercises with weird names, and—worst of all—one hour of cardio every day.

Yes, he genuinely wants you to run for an hour. Every day. You’ve seen him jogging past your window before sunrise, but you never thought you’d be dragged into it too.

To make matters worse, some of the exercises sound downright absurd.

— Bent-over barbell rows? — you ask, staring at the workout sheet like it’s written in an alien language. — Do we need to find a boat for this?

Jack chuckles softly and replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world: — No, just a barbell. I’ll show you.

The first few days are brutal. By 8 PM, you’re practically falling asleep on your feet, and your muscles are so sore that walking through the hallways feels like a challenge. But oddly enough, your mornings start to feel a little more structured. Despite the physical exhaustion, Jack’s company makes everything worth it.

During your sessions, you chat about all sorts of things. He even shares tips on improving your diet—always as gentle suggestions, never pushy.

It’s honestly adorable. Hard to believe this is the same guy who nearly kills you with his workouts.

Of course, there are moments of pure misery. Like the time he introduced you to burpees—an exercise that can only be described as modern-day torture. But in the end, the support and camaraderie you share with Jack turn the grueling routines into something almost… enjoyable. Almost.

Jack seems genuinely excited about your commitment. After all, what gym rat wouldn’t want a workout buddy? But it’s more than that. He enjoys your company and takes pride in helping you improve. He even goes out of his way to ensure you’re safe and don’t overdo it.

When you try to slack off—cut a set short or cheat on your form—he sighs heavily and says firmly: — You’re only cheating yourself, not me.

It’s giving strict dad energy.

Yet, he’s also incredibly perceptive. When you get frustrated or demotivated—like the time you stopped mid-run, gasping for air—Jack slows down and walks beside you, encouraging you to keep going at your own pace.

Beyond the workouts, Jack introduces small healthy habits into your daily routine. He reminds you to carry a water bottle, stretches with you before class, and even brings homemade protein bars. He insists they’re nothing special, but you’re convinced he blushed when you complimented how good they were.

As the days pass, you start to notice small improvements—not just in your stamina but also in how much easier your mornings feel. The group grows, too, with Epel, Sebek, and occasionally Deuce joining in. It’s chaotic but oddly fun.

Training with Jack isn’t just about getting fit. It’s about building a deeper connection with him. Because let’s face it—nothing bonds two people like suffering through a set of crunches at six in the morning, right?

Final verdict: 8/10 experience. Exercising is still a nightmare, but Jack makes it bearable.

[linorachas]

morning was made. | bang chan

ᦈ pairing — bang chan x reader

ᦈ genre — fluff, established relationship

ᦈ word count — 1.6k

ᦈ this was posted on ao3 loooong ago and i forgot i never posted it here lol. wrote this in 30 mins as a warm-up to get back into writing so it might be a lil over the place sorry ㅠㅠ no plot whatsoever just vibes in chan's arms

♬ now playing: morning was made (hush kids)

When you wake up, there’s a koala by the name of Bang Chan hanging off you.

The sun has barely risen, but the sky is painted a light blue which tells you that the morning was about to come. You blink blearily, barely even awake, but the puffs of Chan’s warm breath on your neck tickled and the grip he had on your waist was getting just a tad bit too tight.

“Chan,” you groan quietly, wiggling, but his hold on you doesn’t budge. If anything, it just tightens.

Chan grunts at your constant prodding, lips already pursed into a pout even though his eyes are still squeezed shut. His curls brush against your cheeks when he moves even closer.

“Chan, oh my god,” you laugh, slightly more awake now. You rub the sleep off your eyes, mentally planning how to escape from your boyfriend’s death clutch. “Baby, you gotta let me breathe.”

You manage to wiggle an arm free, using it to slide your hand through Chan’s hair and scratch at his scalp while continuing your calls. You were hoping this was enough to gently wake him up, but it seemed to do the opposite, because Chan just snores. Loudly.

So with no other option left, you tug. Hard.

“Ah!” Chan yelps, jerking his face away from your neck, yet his arms still don’t move an inch. He whines, eyes squinted. “Ow, Y/N, what was that for?”

You bite back a smile at his puffy face. “Let me move, please. I’m sure we’re both stiff from being in the same position for so long.”

You had both passed out early in the evening last night, exhausted after a day’s worth of activities. It was rare that the boys had a day off, much rarer when they could spend it with you, so you all made the most of it and jam-packed your day yesterday.

And as much as you all wanted to stay awake, the boys had a schedule today, and you were kind of dead on your feet. So by 9 pm, the lights were out, and you and Chan had crawled into each other’s arms and slept like babies.

But your early bedtime didn’t seem to be enough, because Chan stubbornly refused to open his eyes, even as he pushed his head into your palm. You soothe the pain in his scalp with the pads of your fingers when he whines again, and you apologize quietly with a kiss to his cheek.

This finally gets him to move though. Chan lies on his back, arms slipping away from your waist so he could stretch. You copy his movements too, mostly stretching your now free limbs, but you yelp when Chan pulls you back in his arms with a simple tug to the wrist.

He slides an arm under your neck this time, pulling you close by the shoulder. Weak as ever, you melt into his embrace easily.

Chan sighs after a while, eyes still closed. “W’time issit?”

“Early.” You lean up to press a chaste kiss to his cheek, to which he makes a noise at and snuggles closer. “Back to sleep.”

Chan makes an incoherent noise as a reply, and you watch fondly as his breath evens out in just a few minutes. Soon enough, he was back to snoring.

You envied that a bit, though. Once you were up, it was hard to get back to sleep. Even when sleep begged to pull you back to dreamland, your eyes still droopy, you didn’t want to waste the day, especially right now when getting a moment alone with Chan felt like it could only happen once in a blue moon.

So you were content to watch the rise and fall of your boyfriend’s bare chest, his steady heartbeat heard clearly from where your head was resting against his pec.

This, you think faintly, will always be better than a good dream.

But in the end, you still doze off. Chan’s warmth was lulling you to sleep, and you were helpless to the comfort that he provided. Your body was too relaxed to not succumb to the shackles of sleep, because you knew that here, in Chan’s arms, you were safe. There was nothing in the world that could hurt you and take you away from him right now.

When you wake up again, the sky is yellow, and you are still in Bang Chan’s arms.

You sigh, too content and warm and happy in your position. But you could hear some bustling outside— most likely Minho who tended to wake up early on days with a schedule— so you knew it was time to get up, no matter how much you wanted to stay in bed.

Chan’s grip on you was looser than it was last time, but it was you who didn’t want to move. You were far too comfortable and the kitchen was too many steps away and preparing food was going to take too long, but then-

Pots bang outside. Silence, then a muffled argument. You hide a snort in Chan’s collarbone.

Yeah. It was time to get up.

Speaking of Chan, he continues to snore away, legs tangled in yours as he clutches you to his chest. With a sigh, you gently squirm out of his hold, pressing a kiss to his chest as you begin to sit up. You stretch your legs with a groan, mentally preparing yourself for the cold now that you didn’t have Chan basically burritoed around you. You set a foot down on the floor, ready to leave-

-but then an arm wraps tight around your waist, dragging you back down on the bed with a tug.

Chan huffs against your neck. “Where’re you goin?”

You startle. “Have you been awake this whole time?”

“Nah.” Chan mumbles, but then pulls back to look at you suspiciously, puffy eyes narrowed. “Why? Were you doing something suspicious?”

“Yes,” you snort, but don’t elaborate further. Chan squawks when you try to get out of his hold again, and you half-groan and half-laugh when he refuses to budge. “Yah, let me go. I need to cook breakfast. Our kids are gonna wake up and start throwing tantrums soon.”

It’s silent for a moment, and you would have thought Chan had fallen back asleep if it wasn’t for the smile you felt pressed against your skin.

You blink. “What?”

“Our kids?” Chan repeats, and you flush a bright red.

“Yeah, well-“ You splutter, caught off guard. “Ou-our kids are gonna starve soon if you don’t let me out of this bed.”

Chan just shakes his head, messy hair flying everywhere. “Minho’s old enough to cook now.”

“And Minho’s going to break down this door and drag you both out of bed to help him cook if you don’t get up in the next minute!”

You and Chan startle at the voice just outside the door, unmistakably Minho’s. You both gape at the door.

“Were you just standing there and listening to us, you creep?!” Chan exclaims, and Minho scoffs.

“I was on my way to wake you so we can eat, but I had to stop and listen first lest I open this door to see your cock and balls-“

“Okay!” You scream, interrupting Minho before he could go on any farther.

“Two minutes!” Minho shouts from outside the door, banging it on twice for good measure. “And no funny business! Keep your dick in your boxers, Bang Chan!”

You feel your face heat up as you hear scandalized shouts from outside— a sharp “it’s six am! Six! ” from Jeongin, a cut-off “He’s getting some this earl-“ from Hyunjin— and protests from the others who have woken up as well.

Chan buries his squeaky laugh against your neck, shoulders shaking with laughter. You shove at his chest with a groan, though the corners of your lips are quirked.

He barely budges from your shove, but he pulls you close again like you’ve been separated. “Our kids are awake, it seems.”

“Awake and already this annoying. Let me go, Bang. I need to shove some food in their mouths to shut them up.”

Chan surprisingly relents at that, turning around abruptly and clutching the blankets to his bare chest. Cold air crawls up your arms, and you miss his warmth almost immediately.

“Fine.” You feel and hear Chan’s pout despite not seeing it, and you try in vain to suppress a grin. “Leave me here. Cold. And alone. I could die, you know. I guess you want me to die.”

You laugh, curling behind Chan’s back and sliding your hand up his chest, relishing in his shiver. “Come on, you big baby. Get up in five minutes and wake your other kids up. Long day ahead of you.”

You slip away after a prolonged kiss to Chan’s cheek, squeezing his bicep as you get up. You’re just opening the door when Chan says something unintelligible, making you halt.

“What was that?”

“Ours.” Chan repeats, and your heart skips. “Our kids.”

Though you knew he was teasing you for the slip, you still see the tips of his ears redden. The smile that blooms across your face this time can’t be stopped, and you’re positive your face is just as the same shade of tomato as his is, but you still tap the doorway, teasing.

“Five minutes then, daddy. Our kids are waiting.”

And like any unfortunate event, Hyunjin chooses to pass by at that exact moment, freezing in his tracks when he processes what he just heard. Your mouth snaps shut, and you close your eyes as you pretend the Earth swallows you whole. Chan peeks from behind the blanket and starts laughing.

“Oh my god. She does have a daddy kink!”

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR FIVE

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, harassment/cat calling, minors dni

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

→ wc: 6.1k+

→ a/n: shout out to @abibliophobiaa for helping me figure this chapter out lol.

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

5:00 ───ㅇ─────────────── 24:00

HOUR FIVE - 8:00 PM

Civility. What a fragile construct. 

You and Eddie are hyper aware of its presence as the minutes pass. It’s a glass wall between the two of you, offering false security and fragile mediation. When he brings up dinner, and there’s no sign of agreement any time soon as he wants the opposite of every suggestion you make, you catch your reflection in it, reminding yourself to carefully think over your words. Every insult manages to catch in your throat, to simmer until softened to something appropriate. And you know he’s doing exactly the same thing as his pauses begin to drag out between replies, as you lose count of the number of times he’s opened his mouth only to immediately snap it shut. 

It works, though. Even with the weight of the agreement in the room, the wall takes the pressure in stride. There’s not a single crack emerging. 

Eddie still sits on the couch with you, this time the TV is turned on to some cable show rerun that has turned into background noise for the two of you. 

He never moved back to the opposite end of the couch. One wrong move, and your thigh could easily press into his, sink into the warmth that radiates from him. It’s all you can think about as he is trying to convince you that the Lord of the Rings books are worth reading, especially if you enjoy the movies. 

If it were any other day, you wouldn’t have noticed when he cuts off suddenly. You would have stopped listening long ago. Which is a shame, not that you’d admit it, because he actually had interesting points to make. 

“What?” you scrunch your nose as his stare hardens across the room, at something by the TV. Suddenly, the almost-glare blooms into delight, and you can’t breathe. 

“We’ve managed to be civil for a whole forty-five minutes.”

You finally follow his gaze and realize he had been looking at the small cable box, blinking blue numbers on the front screen reading the time. 

“Oh,” you say softly, fighting a grin to match his current one, “Yeah, we have been. That’s gotta be a new record.” 

It hadn’t been easy, but it had been doable. Maybe the hours could continue to be less doable. 

“You know, I thought you would have told me to shut up about my nerd shit by now,” he muses, bringing a hand up to carefully rub at his stubbled chin, legs spreading a bit further as he remains reclined into the cushions beside you. 

His knee brushes yours. You still haven’t found your breath that had escaped you from watching his eyes light up in realization. 

“I came pretty close,” you tease and nearly lean in, nearly pressing your knee harder into his. 

It was becoming too easy to act this way with him. You try to think of a time you’d ever given this such room to breathe. But you draw nothing but blanks, save for the first night you’d met Eddie. A night that had been blossoming with buds of hopefulness and blind optimism that had been cursed to die on the vine. 

Although, maybe not all of them had died. There might have been a few dwindlers, and they might have found themselves finally watered after such a harsh winter between the two of you in the revelation of fragile civility these last forty-five minutes. 

“Was it when I went on my ten minute rant about how cool it would have been to bring up werewolves in the movies? Or was it my passion for Samwise being a singer?” your head falls back in gentle laughter, closing your eyes for a second. He goes as far as to nudge your shoulder with his own, “Come on, I’m serious! I do hear myself sometimes, you know. I know when I’m being Lord of the Dorks over here.” 

Your shoulder burns where he had bumped it. Not from pain. 

Your eyes are still closed as you shake your head, “No, no. I think I actually agree with the werewolves, but I’m still on the fence about turning the movies into musicals.” 

When you finally do open your eyes, head rolling to face him and press your cheek atop your burning shoulder, you find him staring at you. Which would have been fine, no big deal, if he was still grinning vibrantly. 

He’s looking at you with an unfamiliar emotion, an emotion you’d not only never seen him look at you with, but any of your shared friends. It’s almost as if he’s no longer in the room with you.

You’re immediately worried you’ve offended him, “Oh, shit. Are you into musicals? I’m sorry, I tried to get into them, but I just-”

“I am,” the emotion drains from his eyes as he snaps back to reality, “I… But I mean, I get it. Not everyone is into musicals, I was just a theater kid.” 

“A theater kid?” your worry is long gone as you sit up, looking at him excitedly, “No way. I would have never guessed that you, Eddie Munson, the most dramatic person I know, were a theater kid.” 

He looks down bashfully, and his curls form a curtain around his face. His dimples are effectively hidden as he shyly smiles, and you’re kind of glad for it. “Shut up. Buckley’s more dramatic than I am. Have you ever heard her go off on one of her rabies rambles?” 

“Of course. She was also a theater kid.” 

“Oh, trust me - I know. We’ve bonded.” 

The conversation dwindles, but the ghost of the dimples don’t. He tucks some of the stray strands of the curtain behind his ear, and you start to regret ever noticing the damn things. 

“We never decided on dinner, you know,” you blurt out and change the topic, because you desperately need something to distract you right now. You’re starting to believe you might prefer arguing with him to whatever storm was building beneath the surface of civility.

“Oh, shit,” he gasps, turning to look at the clock again, “You’re right.” 

Never thought I’d hear you saying that to me of all people, you bite back from saying. 

“Most places are closing soon,” he murmurs, more to himself than you, surely thinking back on the way you couldn’t come to an agreement earlier. If you dived back into that, you’d probably spend the rest of the night bickering. But then he lights up again, just as he had when he’d realized your record-breaking streak of civility, “Say, you like bar food?” 

—

“Eddie, I really can’t afford overpriced bar food!” 

“And I already said I’d pay for you.”

“What about our photo proof? We were supposed to send it ten minutes ago.” 

“You texted them mentioning we’ll be a little late with it, right?” 

“Yeah, but-” 

“Then it’s fine.” 

The entire ten minute walk from Eddie’s apartment to what he claims is his favorite bar in town had been filled with the endless bickering, still managing to be lighthearted enough to not cause any cracks in the civility. 

He’d chastised you about making excuses, and you hated him, because he was right. Every issue you’d brought up about going to the bar with him had been easily solved with one of his solutions. You were grasping for straws at this point.

Because you were nervous. Nervous that civility wouldn’t hold up in public, nervous that if alcohol was added to the equation that tongues would get too loose. 

But none of it mattered. When Eddie initially suggested going to the bar, he’d caught your smile at the idea and realized you two had finally found common ground. He was now a man on a mission. 

“I really don’t want you paying for me,” you huff as he holds the door to the bar open for you, motioning for you to enter before him. 

“It’s really not that expensive, you can pay me back later if you really want,” he waves off, “Buy me a drink or something while we’re here, even.” 

You’d always witnessed Eddie being generous with your friends, always known that he was altruistic as he’d offer to pay for people. Half the time, he never made them pay him back. All he cared about when with friends was everyone having fun. And you’d never been on the receiving end of that — not until tonight. 

He bumps into you when you stop just a few steps into the bar’s entry, glancing around the small room. It wasn’t much, two pool tables set up on the far end of the building, a full bar taking up most of the space inside. You could see some sort of jukebox sitting unplugged in the corner and several booths were occupied with patrons already. 

It was cozy. It wasn’t going out of its way to impress anyone, and it’s probably why you’d never come inside before. From the outside, you hardly were able to decipher it was a bar, especially in the darkness of the night. 

“Sorry,” you turn to apologize, his hands feather light on your biceps to make sure you didn’t stumble from the force of his impact.

He waves it off just as he had waved off your concerns of him picking up the bill for the night, focusing instead on your reaction, “You like it?”

“It’s… nice,” you offer with a shrug as he guides you to the bar. There definitely weren’t any open tables; it was a Saturday night, and even if the place was capable of giving off quaint vibes, there was an abundance of college students who had the same idea as you and him had. 

None of them were locked into the same agreement as you two, though. You were sure of it.

The bartender greets Eddie by name, beaming as he promises he’ll come over with his usual soon. 

“Wow,” you laugh, lifting yourself onto a stool beside him, “You weren’t kidding about it being your usual hangout.”

“I swear I’m not an alcoholic or anything,” he rushes out, “I just… I dunno. Like you said, it’s nice here.” 

You couldn’t believe it. If you dared to look into his words further, you’d swear that Eddie was trying to avoid tarnishing your view of him. He’d never cared about that before.

“I wouldn’t judge you,” you say once the two of you have settled into your seats. Stools were never going to be more comfortable than a booth, but it would do for the next hour. “If you were an alcoholic. I mean, we’re college students. Kind of part of the whole gig,” He looks at you and quirks an eyebrow as he grabs one of the menus from the sticky wood surface in front of you two, “Every college student can be promised three things: unimaginable debt for a stupid piece of paper, the ability to run off of far less sleep than anyone ever should, and a terrible reliance on alcohol.” 

He rolls his eyes and mumbles, “You’re funny.” 

The surviving buds on the vine nearly prepare to bloom, just about ready to untuck themselves from your chest and press against the glass wall of civility. 

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“That I’m funny,” your biting grin is infectious, “Tell me again and stroke my ego, big boy.” 

He flushes pink on the apples of his cheeks, bright and furious even under the dim lighting of the bar, “Oh, fuck off. I’m never complimenting you again.” 

Your newest enemies, those fucking dimples, and the way the blush spreads as he glances down at the menu suddenly become too much. The combination has the ability to choke you, to possibly make your heart stop, if it isn’t for the bartender finally interrupting the moment. 

“Hey there, Eds,” the man not much older than the two of you greets, looking at you with unbridled curiosity, “And… lady friend of Eds.” 

You don’t know why, but you tell the stranger your name. Sweet and low, soft spoken compared to the way you had just been blatantly teasing the boy at your side. 

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he chimes with the type of charisma you’re familiar with when it comes to the food industry. You didn’t make tips if you weren’t kind, if you weren’t borderline flirting with nearly every customer by overflowing with friendliness and compliments, “So, I’ve got your regular here,” he places a glass in front of Eddie, something dark with a few sparse bubbles, “What can I get for you, though?” he turns to you. 

You glance over at the menu Eddie holds, and he shifts it so you can see it better. But as your eyes glance over the drink options, nothing grabs your attention. 

“Full bar, right?” you feel a bit foolish as the man waves behind at the large wall filled with bottles of a variety of alcohol. Duh. “You know how to make an amaretto sour?” 

The man grins widely, nodding enthusiastically before turning to Eddie, “She’s got good taste. I’ll be right back with it for you, hun.” 

The moment the bartender leaves, Eddie is leaning in closer to you, mimicking you in a falsetto, “Full bar, right?”

His cologne is nice. Something spicy, almost musky. Fitting for him.

You don’t hesitate to shove his shoulder, “Shut up. We’re supposed to be civil, remember?” 

“Ah, I see,” his eyes mischievously glint, enjoying this bout of satirizing far too much, “You can tease me, but I can’t tease you. That sound about right?” 

“Exactly,” you sigh jokingly, unable to look at him, already knowing the smile he’s wearing, “Sorry you didn’t get the first memo.” 

He finally, finally, stops leaning in towards you, and carries the scent of his cologne with him. You decide to lock away that detail of him into the same eternal prison of your brain with the dimples. Another thing about him you need to forget after the twenty fours end. 

“My bad, sweetheart. At least I’m up to date now.” 

You ignore the vine as it tightens at the casual use of the nickname again. There’s no need to dive deeper into that reaction. 

“What’s his name?” you finally look at him, eyes catching on the slope of his nose and sharp jaw in the smoky atmosphere. 

“Who? The bartender?” you nod, and he takes a sip of his drink, “Frank. He’s really nice, looks a lot younger than he is, lucky bastard.” 

“What, you don’t think you’ll age so gracefully?” you’re back to teasing Eddie, because God, is it easy. It’s a perfect medium between the two of you. Still biting, still a little mean, but not harmful. It’s innocent and refreshing, breathing a new wave of novelty into your relationship, wherever it may currently stand.

“Who’s not aging gracefully?” The bartender, Frank, questions as he places your amaretto sour in front of you. You mutter your thanks, “Because if you’re talking about Eds here, you’re right. Think this guy has aged ten years in the six months I’ve known him.” 

Six months? You don’t know why you’re so shocked, but part of you had just figured he’d been coming to this bar for as long as he’d lived in his apartment. Which, to be fair, you didn’t know how long he’d occupied that space, either. It had to have been at least a year. There’s been no mention of him moving the entire time you’ve known him. 

“I have not,” Eddie defends himself, hand gripping his drink. 

“Have too,” Frank ends the argument there, not giving Eddie a chance for rebuttal before he lets his gaze go back and forth between the two of you, “So, any food tonight, or just drinks?” 

“Could we actually get an order of garlic parmesan fries?” Eddie is surprisingly polite, and looks at you after he’s placed the order, “If that’s okay with you?” 

You blink, taken back by his consideration, “Um, yeah. That sounds good.” 

Frank nods, “Fries. Got it. Anything else?” 

Eddie is still looking at you, subtly moving the menu closer to you, as if urging you to help yourself. You pick up the laminated paper, and your knuckles brush against his before you’re glancing over your options.

You curse yourself as your hands shake. You’re not nervous – why are they shaking? 

“Are your mozzarella sticks any good?” you finally ask, peering up at Frank.

“They’re excellent. Also, not to brag, but our marinara is the best in town. I swear it.” 

You look to Eddie, as if seeking out permission, and he nods ever so slightly, “I’ll take your word for it. One order of those, please.” 

“Of course. One order of fries and one order of mozzarella sticks coming right up.” 

With that, Frank leaves you and Eddie on your own again, somehow feeling secluded and alone even on the edges of the bustling room. It’s as if there’s a bubble around the two of you, unbreachable by the strangers that surround you. 

Your phone buzzing in your pocket catches your attention, just as it had done numerous times thus far this night, and you pull it out to see two new notifications from Steve.

STEVE-O: photo. 

STEVE-O: now.

You don’t realize Eddie was reading the messages over your shoulder until he suddenly chuckles, “Jesus, when did Harrington become so demanding?” 

“He’s always been this way,” you mutter as you quickly open your phone, the camera app already being opened from your previously provided evidence, “Consider yourself lucky to not be in the groupchat. His attitude grows tenfold through texts.” 

“Clearly.” 

You turn the phone awkwardly in one hand, choosing to go for a wider shot that captures the bar setting behind you and Eddie. He grabs his glass, holding up his drink as if he’s cheersing the camera. 

You’re about to take the photo, when Eddie suddenly sighs, “Oh, come on. Don’t leave me hanging.” 

His free hand nudges your own drink into your hand, and you take it without complaint. 

You both hold up your glasses, forcing mimicry of annoyed expressions directed at the camera and not each other. 

The moment the click of the photo being taken is lost into the atmosphere of the bar, chatter of nearby strangers and clinking of beer bottles together, Eddie’s attention is fully on you.

“To civility,” he says, moving his glass in a grandiose gesture towards yours. 

You take a second before you register it. You’re too busy mapping out his face beyond the dimples, beyond the wild curls that catch the bar lighting just right, all the way up to the hiding freckle beneath his right eye and the cotton candy shade of pink of his pursed lips. It’s as if you’re pressing your cheeks into the wall of civility between you and letting the glass fog over with your breath. As if you’re just now seeing Eddie for the first time, no cloak of hatred or distortion of annoyance to keep you from his memorizing features. 

You shake your head, try to physically rid your head of the uncharted thoughts before you clink your glass to his, “To civility.” 

—

Maybe civility isn’t such a fragile concept. Maybe, just maybe, it’s a reasonable foundation for yours and Eddie’s night. 

Over garlic parmesan fries and mozzarella sticks, and several refills of your amaretto sour and his Jack & Coke (you’d found that out when you’d ask to try his drink, and had grimaced at the harsh whiskey), you two practice the act of it almost flawlessly. 

Eddie tells you a bit more about the first time he’d wandered across this bar, how he’d been kicked out of a different one earlier that night and simply wasn’t ready to go home yet. Somehow, after the story, once he’s shed his leather jacket to drape over the back of his seat and you find yourself angling your body towards him more fully, the attention focuses more on you meeting the group. 

You both have to lean in closer to each other, what at the beginning of the night should have been too close for comfort, as the bar grows busier. You tell him about freshman year of college, that wretched 8 AM math class that’s only redeeming quality was bringing you and Steve together. He was better at math than you, or at least taking notes on the subject. Somehow, the two of you had ended up in an agreement of being ‘study buddies’, as Steve had nicknamed it. Two years later, after several more deliberately shared classes, Steve had finally decided to introduce the girl he’d been ditching their Thursday movie nights for to the gang. It had started with Robin – she’d been in a Psychology class with you and Steve – and all the pieces fell together from there. 

“I still can’t believe you and Harrington never… you know….” Eddie trails off and downs the last of his third Jack & Coke. When Frank motions from across the bar if he’d like a refill, Eddie shakes his head and covers the top of his glass with his wide palm. 

His rings glinted in the low lights, and your stomach did flips. You blame it on the fourth amaretto sour you were nursing. 

“Oh, trust me,” the alcohol has your lips moving more loosely, giggling between your words, “We definitely thought about it. Even got wine drunk one night our sophomore year and tried it.” 

“What?” Eddie exclaims, leaning so far into your space now that his curls brush your bare shoulders, “No way. No fucking way.” 

“Yes way!” your face grows pink, more from laughter than embarrassment, “It was awful! I mean, in our defense we were both drunk, but still. I just…” you sigh out, and lean back in your stool without even noticing that Eddie has his arm draped over the back of it, “We both realized we were way better off friends. I’m a better wing-woman for him now than some fling.” 

“Don’t let Robin hear you,” Eddie chuckles, popping a fry in his mouth before he relaxes back as well. His arm is still on the back of your chair. “You know, he did talk you up a lot before he introduced you to everyone.” 

“Yeah?” you raise an eyebrow. 

Eddie’s brows furrow as he nods viciously, “Oh, God, yeah. Had us all thinking he was just in denial about having a thing for you.” 

“Well, that’s embarrassing.”

“Nah. Only good things. Besides, once Robin met you? It was game over,” if you had been watching Eddie more carefully, you would have seen that unrecognizable emotion crossing his face once more, glazing over his eyes rather than the alcohol he’d consumed, “They really do love you, y’know?” 

You don’t know. Which is a shame. Because on your good days, you’d usually tell yourself that they do enjoy your company, that you do fit into the group. But doubt had an easy job of having its way with you when Eddie existed, when Eddie seemingly loathes you. 

Your silence answers his rhetorical-turned-serious question, and he’s suddenly leaning forward to catch your gaze, “You do know that… right?” 

Your shrug makes his arm fall off of your chair, not intentionally so. It had simply gotten closer to your shoulders with the time passing, and the movement makes it fall limply to his side. 

“Sweetheart, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Eddie groans in what you’re realizing is his usual, playful demeanor, “The entire group loves you so much, it’s irritating. Never shut up about you, inviting you to plans, all that shit.”

“You don’t,” your voice is a whisper. 

It’s the first time that either of you had so much as knocked on the glass wall of civility. A gentle tap of your knuckles against an easily forgotten barrier, but a knock nonetheless. 

“What?” Eddie squints, and he’s leaning in closer, and you suddenly feel suffocated again. His cologne is in your nose, his faded dimples are in your vision. You could count his eyelashes if you spared him a quick glance. 

But you don’t. You can’t bear to look at him, because the entire moment is becoming far too vulnerable. 

You clear your throat, “The entire group, except you, loves me. Which, I mean, I get. Not everyone is going to like me, and I’ve sort of been a bitch to you-” 

“You haven’t-” 

“-and honestly, I’ve really played into the fact that I annoy you so much this entire time. You hate me, I hate you-”

“I don’t-”

“-it’s fine.” 

Despite Eddie’s attempted interruptions, you manage to finish your speech, chest heaving by the end of it. He’s stunned, mouth opening and closing multiple times before he finally seemingly collects his thoughts. 

“Look, I know I’ve been an asshole, but I don’t really-” he starts, but you’re quick to cut him off. Unlike when he’d interjected and you’d ignored him, he lets you speak. 

“Eddie, you said you’d celebrate my death,” you smile sheepishly at him, and you can feel that glass barrier shaking. Bringing up something awful, something terribly mean from mere hours ago isn’t a gentle knock on glass. It’s a slapping of a palm, a dare for cracks to start appearing. 

His entire expression falls, “I… That was stupid of me to say.” 

“It was,” you agree, because you’re not sure what else you could say, “It was, but I get it. The feeling’s mutual and all, right?” 

Eddie is quiet. You almost miss his voice, even with all the other tones of strangers bouncing around you. 

“Can I ask why you hate me, though?” you try to keep your tone as light as possible, to not let this moment get any worse. You try to keep your fists from pounding on the glass of civility, “We’ve never really talked about it before. I know you have your reasons – I’ve got mine.” 

His jaw clenches. You can physically see his thought process. He’s probably got a million reasons, and right now, he’s just thumbing through them, trying to find the one that won’t break your agreement of being kinder to each other. 

“You…” he starts, and the wheels are still turning in his head, eyes looking everywhere but you now, “I don’t know, you just seemed… s-selfish.” 

You almost don’t see it – the first crack in the glass, the first sign of civility crumbling. 

“Selfish?” you echo back, crestfallen, nearly wounded. You attempt to hide it, to not show him that his words affect you, because you’d asked for this. You’d asked the damn question, fueled by liquid confidence, and he was giving it to you. 

“Yeah, just… Full of yourself?” his voice jumps up an octave at the end of his sentence, as if he’s unsure, as if he’s asking you if that’s the right answer. The crack spreads, and begins to distort your vision of him, “I knew you had been sort of popular in high school, and you carried yourself like those popular kids I knew. And… and…” 

His eyes finally stop fleeting from yours. He meets your gaze, and you know you weren’t equipped with strong enough armor to hide the wounds he was inflicting. He could see the bruises as his hits landed, accidental or not. 

“I just thought you were everything I’d always hated. So I hated you.” 

The crack splinters, and hairline fractures split the image of Eddie into unrecognizable pieces. The boy you’d grown accustomed to thus far tonight, the boy you’d grown comfortable with, is gone in your eyes. 

“So,” your voice is tight, and you know you won’t be able to keep up with eye contact, not when it all starts to sting so ardently, “You judged a book by its cover, and decided I’m a royal, spoiled bitch. Isn’t that exactly what everyone in high school did to you?” 

“How did you-”

“Steve told me. He told me about your reputation, about being a freak, everything.” 

The splintering has spread to his side of the glass, clearly, as you say the word freak. 

“Is that why you hate me?” his tone hardens, gaze no longer sympathetic. Not that you see the change. “You decided I’m a freak, too?”

“I never said that-”

“No? Sorry, I thought we were just putting words into each other’s mouths.” 

The bar is busy, and you wonder if the bystanders can hear the wall of civility finally shattering. You have no idea if any of the shards hit Eddie, but you can feel them dig into your chest, your arms, your stomach. Shards that remind you of what could have been.

Shards that remind you of what was lost because Eddie Munson had decided he hated you long before he met you. 

“You’re the one who hated me before you even met me,” you scoff cruelly. 

“I never fucking said that-”

“You did, though,” you counter, crossing your arms over your chest protectively, “You said so yourself. Steve mentioned I was sort of popular in high school, and you just- you just decided to shove me into a box of what I would be. Some girl you didn’t even know.”

“Well, pardon me,” he snaps, “I didn’t exactly have the best experience with the popular kids, but you should know that since Stevie told you everything, right? Hell, he probably mentioned it over pillowtalk for your one night together, right?” 

You were an idiot. You had let yourself forget that Eddie is not normally kind, that Eddie is not normally so trustworthy as he’s been the last hour. You’d let your guard down, and now, the ramifications were staring you down right between the eyes. 

“Fuck you,” you angrily spit, moving to stand up, “I told you that in fucking confidence, because I thought… I thought…” 

“You thought..?” he presses as you turn to face him, shorter than him now that you weren’t both sitting in the stools, “What? That we were friends?” 

Yes. Because for a moment, I thought we were becoming friends, like a fucking idiot. 

His chest is heaving now. Just as yours had during your rant to him, your attempt to soothe over the fact that he hated you. You regret it. You regret ever agreeing on civility. 

“My mistake,” you choke out, “It won’t happen again.” 

You’ve caught him off guard. Maybe he had been prepared for you to deny it, maybe he had thought you’d laugh in his face at the idea of you considering him a friend.

But you hadn’t. You’d just confirmed to him that you did have that moment of weakness. You’d admitted that yes, for a vulnerable moment, you’d considered him a friend. A confidant over sweetened alcohol, cheap bar food, and trust. 

He’d had your trust, and he’d now lost it. 

You don’t wait around to see how he takes the revelation. You’re already storming out the front door of the bar, grateful you can still remember which direction his apartment is in. You don’t care if he’s following you – part of you hopes he isn’t. 

Until part of you is. Because as you step out into the night, a few shadows against the brickwall are brought to life by your appearance. 

“Hey there,” one of the men call out, “What’s a girl like you doing all alone?” 

You don’t process that the man is talking to you at first, head down and anger flaming. 

“Hey, you!” There’s a sudden hand on your shoulder, making you jolt your head up, “Yeah, you. What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here alone?” 

His grin is sinister. Sickly sweet in faux honey, blonde hair swept back and breath reeking of rum. 

“M-Me?” you stutter, trying to take a careful step back, to get his hand off your shoulder. 

Your heart is no longer racing with fury. It’s pounding with fear. 

“Does it look like there’s any other pretty girls out here?” he slurs with a chuckle, glancing around to his friends.

You look around as well, and realize with sinking trepidation that there’s no one else out here, “No. But, uh, I’m good. I.. I’m not… interest-” 

“What’s your name, honey?” he leans in closer, and you can’t help but lean back. It makes his grip on you tighten. “I’m Jason. Are you all alone? Because, I’ll be honest, I’ve been striking out all night and would love to take a pretty thing like you home with me.” 

“I’m g-good,” you start again, “Please, uh, please let go-” you're shaking your head, trying harder to pull off his hand. 

“Oh, come on. It’d be fu-” 

He doesn’t finish his sentence. One second, he’s pressing too close to you, holding you tight enough to leave bruises as you’re cringing and suddenly squirming to get out of his grasp, and the next – he’s gone. 

“Get the fuck off her.” 

You’re still too shocked to move, glancing down at your shoulder that’s now red and sore. But you know that voice. 

It’s the voice that had just told you he’d hated you before he ever met you. 

“Hey, man!” The intruder, Jason, protests as he’s shoved harshly against the wall. “What the fuck?” 

You finally look to see what’s happening properly. Eddie isn’t facing you, his broad back and shoulders appearing menacing in the shadows as Jason sinks further back against the wall. 

“She’s not going home with you.” 

His tone doesn’t waver, even as you catch the clench of his shaking fist. 

Jason catches sight of you, still standing where he left you, and the nauseating smirk returns, “I think we should let her decide, shouldn’t we?” 

You see Eddie move to raise his fist, and your body finally unfreezes. In an instant, you’re at his side, and your hand wraps around his bicep to prevent the punch he was surely pretending to send Jason’s way.

“Eddie,” you plead, tugging him backwards, anger momentarily forgotten. He doesn’t look at you, but he immediately takes the arm in your hold and wraps it around you in order to tuck you further behind his body, away from the wide, drunken stares of these men. You hate it, but it makes you feel safer, even as you grip the leather of his jacket’s sleeve tighter, “Eddie, please, let’s go.” 

“So she’s spoken for?” Jason pushes his luck, still slurring his words. 

Eddie’s fist clenches again. Without thinking, your hand not on his arm reaches down to grasp his fist. 

Your heart's still pounding. You’re still trembling, shaken up terribly – he can feel it. 

“Please,” you beg one last time. 

This time, he listens. The fist unravels, and in an instant, he has your hand locked in his, palm against sweaty palm. 

He’s not as rough as you expect him to be as he’s dragging you away from the scene. You can still hear the cat-calls, the taunts, of the drunken men, but it only spurs Eddie to walk faster. You struggle to keep up, his long legs carrying him more easily through the long strides, but you don’t protest, eager to get away from whatever the fuck just happens.

Neither of you say another word during the walk to his apartment. Your shoulder continues to ache, your hand stays tangled in his, and you can still feel the prick of civility’s shards in your chest, lodged dangerously close to your vines and closing buds of hopefulness. 

Civility. What a broken construct. 

–

BIRDIE: they are literally on a date right now. 

JOHNNY: I’m not doing this right now. 

DINGUS: god, i hate to admit it, but rob’s right. are they at a bar right now? am i seeing that right?

BIRDIE: yes!! i called it!! i fucking called it!!! god, only five hours in and they’re already on their first date.

ARGYLE ​​😎: love is in the air my dudes

JOHNNY: @ARGYLE ​​😎Don’t encourage them. 

NANCE: It is NOT their first date. Eddie wouldn’t take her to a bar for their first date.

BIRDIE: hold on, how would you know what eddie would do for their first date? 

NANCE: He’d probably take her somewhere nice, like whatever this town’s equivalent of Enzo’s. 

DINGUS: when the fuck has eddie talked about where he’d take her for the first date? 

BIRDIE: nancy what the fuck do you know?

JOHNNY: Lol

NANCE: Forget I said anything. 

BIRDIE: nancy, please explain yourself immediately.

DINGUS: nance? when? the? fuck? 

NANCE: He was drunk, he probably didn’t mean it.

BIRDIE: NANCY.

JOHNNY: Now you’ve done it. 

DINGUS: NANCY.

ARGYLE ​​😎: does this mean what i think it means?

BIRDIE: NANCE. 

JOHNNY: Just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you? 

NANCE has left the groupchat.