#so observant <3 he was looking at everyone's faces and reading the room before he responded to ross

[meidui]

CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR (2016)

[darkmatilda]

𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: spencer had heard rumors that a few female students secretly had a crush on him, but he always dismissed it as a joke and never intended to engage in any kind of relationship with them. that is, until a certain bright and quiet one caught his attention.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: professor reid x student!female reader, spence's pov only, uni looks like a f1ucking hogwart just for the vibe, reader having some daddy issues and revealing some past experiences, father's death anniversary, trauma dumping actually but it's not a self-insert story i just really got into it lol, age gap, fingering, insane sexual tension during their convos, kinda socially awkward reader who's also an irony queen from time to time, talking, lots of talking blah blah

𝐚/𝐧: a special dedication to my beloved girlies who feel that if they ever crossed paths with spencer reid they’d be too stupid to talk to him. it's also a request i got from one of you <3 hope you'll enjoy it

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 8.9k

Dr. Reid didn’t notice her right away.

Alright, fine. Dr. Reid did notice her. His analytical mind placed great importance on everything happening around him. He observed the faces of his students, instantly committing their names to memory—he wanted to know who attended his lectures. A more accurate statement would be that, at first, he didn’t pay her any special attention.

She struck him as quiet. And she was quiet. Silent and observant—that was the impression he had of her. When he formed that opinion, he wasn’t thinking about her yet. While reading, he didn’t wonder whether the book he had chosen would appeal to her, nor did he consider which aspects of it might draw her into the depths of discussion, making her usually tightly pressed lips come alive with unceasing words. Arriving at the university with a briefcase in hand, his coat tightly wrapped around him, he didn’t fixate on the ever-thickening layer of snow or brush its delicate flakes from his hair. His mind was entirely absorbed by thoughts of whether her clothing was suited to the weather and if she might be cold. Most importantly, when he formed that opinion, his gaze, upon entering the lecture hall, didn’t immediately begin searching for her face—unassuming and half-hidden among the others—before he’d even greeted the rest of the students.

Because when he formed that opinion, she was just a student, like all the others.

His lectures with her group were held twice a week, at a time when everything outside the window slowly began to gray, and they usually ended with a sense of relief for all the students, as another day of study came to a close. Reid always stayed a moment longer in the room, ready to answer any lingering questions or offer help with any issues. These questions often repeated. Sometimes, when he felt particularly tired, he didn’t have to exert much effort in his responses. That didn’t mean, of course, that he was ignorant. It was simply that his lips seemed to know the right words; he didn’t need to fully wake up or concentrate.

It was the same that late November afternoon. She approached slowly, almost shyly, to his desk, waiting for the moment when everyone else would finally disappear through the door. As if she were embarrassed that her question might reach unwanted ears. He lifted his gaze to her, immediately noticing her retreat and uncertainty, and smiled gently, encouragingly, to embolden her. And the question she asked had the effect of caffeine injected directly into his veins.

His brain immediately sprang into action, so absorbed and genuinely intrigued. Surprised, even. He answered her question, of course, but when he felt the penetrating, eager gaze of her eyes on him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything he said was inadequate and couldn’t satisfy her curiosity. He even became somewhat stressed and lost his train of thought. A slight hint of amusement stretched her lips, but, luckily for him, she ignored it, sparing him any embarrassment. They discussed a topic unusually connected to the lecture, and he hadn’t felt so intellectually engaged in a long time, though it lasted only a quarter of an hour. Afterward, she disappeared through the door like everyone else, thanking him for the answer before she left.

He didn’t hide the fact that his thoughts returned to that conversation. And when, after another lecture, she approached him again in that same characteristic manner, he hoped she would pick up where they left off. That they would continue their discussion exactly at that interrupted point. But her question was about something else, something equally fascinating, and at that moment, in that instant, he completely erased everything from his mind that had come before, fully absorbed in what they were now discussing.

Slowly, it all stopped being solely about criminology lectures and started touching on every possible tangent, from literature to more mundane matters, like current events at the university. But no matter what they were talking about, he approached it with the same level of engagement. He was pleased that it had become their little ritual.

Being, let’s not shy away from the word, a genius, meant that it was hard for him to find someone on the same intellectual level. And he didn’t say this with disdain for others, absolutely not. Spencer always enjoyed those little chats with others, truly cherished the time spent with his close ones. He just sometimes needed that kind of intellectual stimulation.

With the second week of December, something changed.

It was probably something about her general mood. Well, this month was often exceptionally depressing for a large portion of the population, but it didn’t seem like that was the issue. She had once mentioned to him that she really valued winter.

 “Really?” he asked then, resting one hand on the desk. Usually, their conversations followed the typical, unspoken arrangement of their bodies in relation to each other. He, more relaxed, often prone to gestures, and she, much less expressive. Her hip didn’t tilt to either side, she maintained a straight posture, and liked to hold something in her hands—like a notebook. When she had nothing, her fingers gently brushed the edge of the desk. Spencer couldn’t help but constantly lower his gaze to her hands and analyze their subtle movements. When he spoke, they remained still, frozen in focus. When she spoke, they would move in fluid, wave-like motions to the sides. He tried not to stare too much, as he was sure that if she caught him, she’d stop. But he liked those moments of uncontrolled naturalness in her. “What do you like about it so much?”

Her facial expressions were fascinating. Complex, like the world depicted in some novel. At the same time, difficult to decipher; sometimes, he had to guess what some small gestures meant. She blinked rarely, and when she did it more often than usual, it seemed to substitute for a shrug or uncertainty.

“I think it’s mostly how short the days are. When one of them turns out to be a failure, you don’t have to wait long until the new one begins.”

“When a day feels like a failure, you don’t have to write it off completely. Maybe sometimes it’s worth trying to fix it, at any moment you find yourself in.”

“That’s very wise advice, professor. But not for me,” she scoffed. “When something goes wrong, I’d rather start over right away than linger in that bad streak. Even when I make a mistake while taking notes, I...”

“You tear the page out and start writing on a clean one,” he blurted out the end of the sentence, his back straightening slightly when he realized he had said it out loud.

He had noticed how she did that, not once or twice. However, he was slightly embarrassed by the fact that he had admitted to staring at her during lectures. And he didn’t do it on purpose! Most of all, not obsessively. It just happened that the longer they knew each other, the more their private conversations continued, the more often his gaze drifted toward her. Sometimes, while analyzing a topic, he was so curious about what she thought, specifically what she thought, that he simply couldn’t stop himself… although usually, he still couldn’t read much from her face.

At his observation, her hand resting on the edge of the desk froze.

“Exactly,” she admitted, giving him a gentle smile. He looked at her more closely then, noticing the slight radiance on her face. That expression suited her. It wasn’t as if she always wore a completely serious or sad face. More often, though, she hid her emotions instead of eagerly presenting every little feeling she had. She cleared her throat, and Spencer immediately dropped his gaze. “I hope the sound of tearing paper doesn’t throw you off rhythm.”

“Of course not,” he reassured her quickly. “Don’t even worry about it. The only thing that throws me off rhythm is conversations.”

“That doesn’t happen often, though,” she replied. “I mean, others don’t talk to each other when you’re speaking. It’s completely different in other classes.”

This comment surprised him immensely; he frowned and asked what she meant by it.

"Maybe it's just my observation," she noted at the start. "Maybe it's about the way you speak—you’re... you're very engaged in the topic, and listening to you is so pleasant that others don't feel the need to make silly remarks or interrupt. Or maybe..." She suddenly stopped, a tension flickered across her face, as if she desperately wanted to pull back from what she was about to say.

"Or maybe...?" He couldn't stop himself, so curious to hear the end of the sentence. Then he noticed her discomfort, her gaze fixed on the desk, embarrassment washing over her. His curiosity wasn’t worth making her feel that way, and he quickly scolded himself. "It's fine, you don't have to continue..."

"Or maybe I just think that others are quieter because of how focused I am," she blurted out in one breath, pressing her lips together in embarrassment. Spencer felt an unidentified shift in the rhythm of his heart, beating against his chest. "On you. On the lecture, of course."

"On the lecture," he repeated, his voice strangely husky. He swallowed, trying to clear it, struggling to find the right words. "I'm... I'm really glad that you find everything I say so interesting."

"Of course I do," she replied carefully. "Criminology is my passion, and it's the field I want to explore as deeply as I can. And you're a huge authority to me. Like, I’m sure, to all the other students too," she added hastily.

As December progressed, their conversations became a bit less lively and shorter. Or maybe it was just some mistaken impression of his? Maybe he had grown to like them so much and looked forward to them so eagerly that no matter how long they lasted, it would never be enough for him? He felt strange with such a thought and immediately reprimanded himself. He shouldn't be placing so much importance on his meetings with his student. 

She shouldn’t occupy his thoughts as much as she did.

Brilliant, now he was starting to pin all the blame on her. 

Pathetic.

Looking back, that day was exceptionally bright. Snowflakes fell relentlessly from the sky, twirling in a dance-like motion and tracing delicate patterns in the air. A thick layer of snow on the windowsills cast a white glow across the room and seemed to shield the interior from the intrusion of any potential darkness.

Spencer had promised himself he wouldn’t look at her the moment he walked into the room. And yet, he did. Though she might have seemed like a loner, she had a small circle of friends—three, to be precise. A quiet girl, a guy, and, finally, another girl who was their complete opposite, always seeming to voice the thoughts of their entire group aloud.

Before his arrival, they seemed to be discussing something. She was only half-listening, her eyes fixed on the book she was reading. When she did respond, which was rare, her lips barely parted. Meanwhile, as she turned the pages, her hands gripped them so tightly it looked as if she might tear them apart.

He mentally noted the detail, curious about what kind of book could evoke such emotions in her. He desperately needed to know the title. Or maybe it wasn’t about the book at all? It didn’t matter. He had to find out anyway.

Reid couldn’t make out the writing on the cover—simple and black, like some kind of journal. Throughout the entire lecture, it lay closed right under her nose. Craning his neck and trying to identify it he probably looked like a total idiot. It was only after some time that he reminded himself, sobered by the thought that, based on what she had once told him—and assuming it had been a sincere admission—he was, in some way, an authority figure to these students. He ought to focus on passing on as much of his knowledge to them as possible in return. 

When the class finally came to an end, everyone began heading for the exit. She usually packed her things at a very slow pace, making sure to be the last one in the room, apart from him. She wasn’t doing anything wrong; she had the right to stay and talk to her professor, but she still approached it with some caution. Maybe she didn’t want to raise the curiosity of her friends? In any case, that day she didn’t slow down as she made her way to his desk. She followed the other figures toward the exit, arm in arm with a friend who was saying something to her. Spencer was surprised to notice that she didn’t turn toward him even once.

Before he could understand what she was doing, he called her name. Loudly.

She wasn’t the only one who turned around, but she was the only one who stayed. He tried hard to read the expression on her face. She seemed a little distracted, her gaze moving from the door to him, and he began to suspect that maybe she had simply forgotten about their brief conversations. He deeply hoped that was the case. Not that she had any problems, or that he had said something she didn’t like…

“Yeah?” she asked, tightly holding a thick book against her chest. He still hadn’t figured out which one, and it still intrigued him. “Do you want to talk about something, professor?”

Reid suddenly realized in panic that he hadn’t prepared any topic. He had called her over spontaneously, not even really knowing why. Usually, it was her who approached him with a question, and the conversation would flow on its own… but the weight of her gaze left him no time to think. 

"Well..." he began, nervously swallowing and feeling like a small, pathetic boy. "Actually, no... actually, I just wanted to know... if you had any questions. About the lecture, I mean."

He leaned one hand on the desk, hoping he didn’t look as deeply embarrassed as he felt. What the hell was happening to him?

"I don't have any," she replied. Spencer almost sighed in disappointment, barely managing to stop himself. She had been standing very close to the closed door, turning toward it as if making sure no one was behind it. Then, suddenly, she timidly stepped closer to him. "To be honest, I wasn't really focused today. I guess... it’s just not my day."

 His brows furrowed in brief concern.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Do you need me to explain something in more detail? It's... really no trouble for me, and I don’t want you to fall behind."

"Please don't worry about it, professor," she assured him. Her fingers tightened around the book she was holding, and the sigh that escaped her lips carried with it a small... smile? "Thank you for that, but I'll just take notes from someone and catch up on my own. I don't want to take up your time..."

 "It's really no trouble..."

 "...And by the way... I don't feel too well. My focus is nonexistent so it wouldn’t make much sense."

"Alright," he gave in, and for a moment, they both fell silent. Looking at her face, he tried to find any signs of illness, a developing cold, or maybe the flu. She did look a bit pale. She shifted from foot to foot, and he realized he had been staring at her and quickly shook his head. "Sorry for holding you up. You should go and try to rest. Have…have something warm to drink. It will do you good."

She wasn’t gazing longingly at the door, impatient with his words and eager to leave, as he had thought she would. In fact... she seemed to be looking at him with a hint of hesitation.

"It’s not that... I can’t focus at all," she began. "It’s just that more complicated topics can’t settle in my mind. Related to studying, mostly. But that doesn’t mean I want to shut myself off completely. Honestly, I think I could use a bit of conversation..." A sudden laugh escaped her lips. "Sorry, really. I didn’t mean to bother you with... nonsense. I should probably talk to a friend, not a professor, if I just wanted to chat..."

She flinched, as if about to turn and leave—almost run away. Spencer straightened abruptly, wanting to stop her.

“No, wait—don’t go. You can talk to me. What is it? Is something bothering you?”

Her gaze wandered aimlessly around the room for a moment before she finally shook her head.

"Nothing specific. Stress, the end of the semester, you know. Everyone’s only talking about that, and I just want to think about something else for a moment. Anything."

"I completely understand," Reid admitted. Leaning back against the edge of his desk, arms crossed over his chest, he studied her more intently. A flicker of doubt sparked within him—was it really just that? Something inside him tugged, eager to uncover everything weighing on her mind and causing such a somber mood. But he knew her well enough by now to realize that a direct question would only make her retreat.

He paused, considering what he would want to talk about if he needed to distract himself from a troubling thought.

"Does... does literature fall under those complicated topics you can’t quite settle in your mind?"

She dropped her head with a sudden laugh. A fleeting sense of satisfaction washed over him, as if he’d just achieved some long-term goal. Odd, but pleasant.

“No,” she replied. “Literature is actually a topic I could talk about even in the middle of the night, freshly woken from sleep. In theory, at least. In practice, I’d probably start mixing up names so much you wouldn’t even know which work I was referring to. I mean, they wouldn’t. The person who woke me up wouldn’t know—I didn’t mean you specifically…”

This time, it was him who started laughing as she, embarrassed, tried to untangle herself from her own words.

"I got the general message."

"Thank God. You know, I've been thinking lately that if I just kept my mouth shut every time I said something stupid, I’d save myself from a ton—no, an enormous amount of incredibly awkward social situations."

It amused him that she had pointed out a problem he himself often dealt with. He opened his mouth to say something, but almost immediately had to close it again. He nearly blurted out that he found all her moments of embarrassment genuinely endearing and didn’t want her to hold back from speaking around him just out of fear of self-embarrassment. 

Before he could even decide if it was the appropriate thing to say, she spoke again.

“So… why did you ask about literature?”

He was so lost in thought that for a brief moment, he almost forgot that he had even brought up the topic. It wasn’t until his gaze once again landed on the book she was holding that he snapped back to reality.

“I spent most of the lecture wondering what you were reading,” he admitted, still standing with his back to the desk, leaning on it with his hands, trying to hide their brief, slight tremor. Maybe he had said it too directly… or perhaps it was just his usual tendency to overanalyze every word he said to her. Quickly, he added, “Because I’m sure I’ve never seen that book before. I don’t recognize the cover at all, although I know there can be different editions. What’s the author’s name?”

She gave him the name with a strange expression. Spencer furrowed his brows, but she beat him to it, speaking before he could say anything.

“That’s right, it’s my father’s book.”

Honestly intrigued, he tilted his head to the side.

"I didn’t know he was a writer. And... to be completely honest, I’ve never heard of him..."

To his surprise, she laughed. Not shyly and genuinely as before, but with a bitterness that lingered in her voice.

"It’s not that he was a writer. He just really, really wanted to be one. But no publisher was really interested in what came out of his office. Which doesn’t surprise me much. Anyway, in the end, he gave up and printed that one copy just to have something to proudly put on the shelf."

He felt that they had stepped onto some unstable ground, one that required him to tread carefully. Or perhaps even retreat if it might cause her any pain. And it seemed that it did. However, Spencer felt too concerned to pull back. 

“Why are you reading his book, anyway?” he asked cautiously. Her face remained expressionless, and he wondered if she even caught the gist of his question. Most likely, she did—without a problem—but he felt an inner need to add something more, to keep the conversation flowing smoothly instead of making it feel like an interrogation. “Maybe… maybe it’s just my completely wrong assumption—correct me if I’m off—but you didn’t exactly look… like you were enjoying it much.”

She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. She forced herself to stay calm, forced herself to appear at ease. But it was too late—the enigmatic shield that had protected her from all sides had been cracked, and her expression turned transparent, everything behind it 

"He's gone. Two years ago, in December," she admitted, her voice lacking overt despair, though tinged with the unmistakable weight of layered pain. She seemed uncomfortable sharing it—not with him as a person, but with him as her professor. "A few days before Christmas. Last year... I don’t know why, maybe just to torture myself, I started reading it. And this year, the same thing. The month started, and somehow, subconsciously... I just woke up with the book in my hands at one point. That’s... for context. Forgive me if this doesn’t interest you at all. I probably said too much…”

“No, you didn’t. Don’t think that,” he assured her, instinctively taking a step forward, closer to her, though he couldn’t quite explain why. The conversation had drifted into an unexpected territory, but this was exactly what he had wanted—to know what had been weighing on her. “At least… at least now I understand what’s been making you feel the way you do lately. I won’t keep catching myself trying to guess what’s behind it anymore. And I won’t worry so much, now that I know.”

“Worry,” she repeated immediately after him, before the echo of his previous words had a chance to dissolve into the void. Her tone was the kind used to point out someone’s grammatical slip-ups—sharp, quick, decisive. As if she simply couldn’t help herself.

Spencer froze in place, just one step away from her. Now that he was finally this close, he could have taken a proper look at the cover of the book she was holding, but suddenly, it didn’t matter at all. His focus was entirely on her—her words, her face, and the quiet weight of the troubles she carried.

He didn’t know what he should do, his hands falling limply at his sides. He imagined what it would feel like to gently touch her cheek—he could do it, all it would take was moving his hand forward. That was all that separated them. Just that small distance and some ingrained barrier in his mind, shaking its head in disapproval and conjuring painfully vivid images of her pulling away before his fingers even grazed her skin, leaving him as quickly as she could.

“It’s not that… reading this book is such a complete torment,” she began with a sigh, relaxing her posture slightly as his shadow loomed just above her. She held the book out toward him, so close that she didn’t even have to extend her elbow. She had clearly changed the subject. “You can… check for yourself. It’s decently written. At times, good. It has some insightful points. Page 814, for example. Verse 6.”

Surprised not only by the request but also by her precise instructions, Reid took the book from her without hesitation. It was incredibly thick and heavy, with no interesting illustrations on the cover, only the author’s name written in fancy font. Though his reading speed was impressive, instead of absorbing the information on the following pages, he focused on reaching the one she had pointed out.

The mentioned quote was underlined with a black line, as if drawn with a ruler.

"It is impossible to prove your loyalty under favorable conditions. For it to happen, something must shake your world, the walls of your home must begin to crumble, and challenges must materialize outside. Only then, in that most difficult moment for both of you, can you finally prove to the other person that you will never leave them, and that your love will never reach their back."

"I love this quote," she said before he could formulate any thought. Surprisingly, there was no trace of irony in her voice. "Honestly. It's accurate and aligns with my personal worldview. But at the same time, it amuses me incredibly..." She scoffed bitterly. "...That it came from the pen of a guy who, after sixteen years of marriage, got another woman pregnant. Oopsie. A bit of hypocrisy, don't you think?"

Completely shaken by the confession, Spencer placed his hand on her shoulder. He didn't care that she had said it all in a tone dripping with sarcasm, not in the form of a broken lament. He still felt that he had to, felt that he needed to offer her some form of support, even if it was as weak as touching her hand.

She seemed to be in shock. Those earlier words had almost escaped from her lips on their own, and she kept them slightly parted, as if hoping they would return. And when they didn't, she must not have expected his reaction. Or maybe she was counting on a response just as sharp as her tone, a snicker or a biting retort. Not a touch, not a tender furrowing of his brow.

Her bottom lip trembled, and her cheeks flushed with a delicate redness.

 “Sorry, really. Can I... can I open the window? I think I need some fresh air…”

Instead of responding, he guided her toward the window, his hand resting on her back, hovering just at the edge of touch. She closed her eyes, feeling the winter chill against her face, and sighed. Spencer, though reluctantly, stepped back a couple of paces, giving her space. But he couldn't stop himself from studying her face. He hadn't noticed it before, too focused on her mind, but now he saw that her face, her presence, was just as beautiful.

Was it just a simple statement of fact, or a thought that had emerged from the unpredictable corners of his inner self?

They spent a moment, maybe even a few minutes, in silence. After that, she hesitantly turned to him over her shoulder.

"Oh no, don't you dare apologize again," he warned, extending his hand in a firm gesture.

"But I should," she said. "You're my professor, and I just came to you and started unloading about my life. It's not even just inappropriate anymore, it's simply pathetic."

"As long as I don't consider it inappropriate or pathetic, then it isn't. And you place too much importance on the fact that I'm your professor. Maybe... it would help you if you stopped seeing me only in that context, and started... seeing me as, say, a friend. And if that's too much, then at least as a genuinely interested conversational partner?"

The corners of her lips suddenly trembled.

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"Well, I think we could argue about the definition if we wanted to."

“There’s no need for that,” she said, turning fully away from the window and leaning on the windowsill with her elbows. A few traces of a blush still lingered on her face, adding so much charm that Spencer’s thoughts began to wander in such a dangerous direction that he had to look away. “But… I need to know. Is that… what you really think of me? A conversation companion? A slash, a friend?”

“I’m not sure… if I understand,”

 One of her nails bent as she nervously tapped it on the windowsill.

 “I just want to know if you think of me as someone more than an annoying student who bothers you after every lecture.”

Reid was momentarily taken aback.

“You thought I thought of you like that?”

Unfazed, she blinked.

“You tell me.”

"He didn’t know how to put it into words without it sounding inappropriate. In the end, he decided to stop worrying about propriety and just be honest.

"Not once, since you started coming to see me, have I thought you were irritating. But more than once, I’ve thought that you’re truly fascinating, and I even... I even found myself eagerly awaiting what you’d want to talk about next."

Her head tilted slightly to the side as she listened to him. The old, familiar impenetrability returned to her expression—her eyes slightly narrowed, her lips... perhaps on the verge of an uncertain smile?

He never got the chance to find out. Immediately after his words, someone interrupted them, completely shattering the atmosphere inside.

"Are there any more classes here?" asked the man responsible for cleaning, peeking inside. "I thought they were over..."

"Because they are," Reid quickly replied, only now noticing that, indeed, darkness had fallen outside. Their classes had taken place in the afternoon, and the conversation had stretched so long that early winter evening had already begun. "We were just... just leaving."

"Well then, I guess goodbye," she said once they were outside. "It really got late, and I need to rewrite my notes..."

For some reason, he felt incredibly disappointed.

*

The last lecture before the Christmas break took place in a dreamy atmosphere. Everyone's spirit was already outside the classroom, far from criminology-related topics, surrounded by family and loved ones.

As usual, he couldn't stop glancing in her direction. He was incredibly pleased that nothing had changed since their memorable conversation, and their routine of chatting after every class remained untouched. Or perhaps something had changed? Their mutual ease with one another had grown, as had the range of topics they navigated. His impatience for their conversations had grown as well...

That day, he waited for her to approach his desk with her characteristic, slow, perfectly controlled step. He watched, almost hypnotized, as she did, adjusting her bag on her shoulder before standing up from her seat. But when she was right in front of him, one of her friends, the loud one, suddenly grabbed her hand.

"Don't tell me you're planning to bother him again," she scoffed. "We were supposed to go out and eat together before I head home, remember?"

"Oh," her friend hesitated, casting an apologetic glance at Spencer. They were too close for him not to overhear their conversation. He felt a selfish frustration rising within him. "Actually, sorry, I forgot. But...Can you give me a minute?"

Her friend rolled her eyes but nodded, and after a moment, they were left alone in the room.

"You're not staying to chat, or has my deduction skills gotten worse?"

"Unfortunately. I mean, unfortunately, I'm not staying. For long. I just wanted to... wish you a Merry Christmas."

Sometimes, when he talked to her, he forgot there was a world outside of their conversation, and that such a thing as months existed, and one of them was December. Christmas, right.

"Merry Christmas, to you too. I hope... I hope you'll have a really nice time."

He didn't know what else to add. Everything he said could lead to a long discussion, and outside the door, her friend was probably waiting for her to join her. So he stayed silent, a little awkwardly. She gave him an equally awkward smile. Awkward, but sincere.

Her feet shuffled in place, as if they wanted to stay in the room, not leave.

She waved goodbye once more to break the tension and disappeared through the door.

Spencer let out a heavy sigh. Maybe he should've said something. Suddenly, so many possible topics came to his mind. For example, the holiday party, the ball, organized by her department. Was she planning to go? What about Christmas itself? Was she going to spend it with her family? How was she feeling? How had her day gone? Did she enjoy the lecture? They were short questions, ones she'd probably answer just as briefly. He could have asked any of them.

But it was too late. They won't see each other until the beginning of the new semester.

He overanalyzed the interaction for a few more hours, later that evening, on his way to the university library. The corridors were almost empty; the students had either left or were attending the Christmas ball that had just begun. It might have sounded a bit serious and pompous, but such an event was indeed organized every year by a different department. It shouldn’t be confused with a student party, as formal attire was required, and the music was usually classical or instrumental versions of traditional carols. It was a way to thank the students, faculty, and university management for completing another semester.

He overanalyzed the interaction for a few more hours, later that evening, on his way to the university library. The corridors were almost empty; the students had either left or were attending the Christmas ball that had just begun. It might have sounded a bit serious and pompous, but such an event was indeed organized every year by a different department. It shouldn’t be confused with a student party, as formal attire was required, and the music was usually classical or instrumental versions of traditional carols. It was a way to thank the students, faculty, and university management for completing another semester.

Initially, Reid had planned to stop by briefly, but after feeling strange for a few hours and sensing a migraine coming on, he decided to skip it. He definitely preferred to spend the evening among the shelves and books. He rarely admitted it to others, but the reason he chose this particular university was not the salary offered, but the richness of their library’s resources.

He had hoped that spending time there would help distract him from a certain student, who had progressively been occupying his thoughts more and more. In fact, she already had a room in his mind. A room. A damn palace with seven bedrooms, each dedicated to a different day of the week. What he hadn’t expected, however, was to see her almost immediately after stepping into the library. Fast asleep in one of the corners, her face resting on a small table with four seats around it, only one of which was occupied—hers.

Reid couldn't help but chuckle at the irony of it.

Before he had a chance to think about it, before the thought even crossed his mind that perhaps she didn’t want anyone disturbing her in the middle of her late-night solo study session, he moved closer, carefully stepping so as not to wake her. It didn’t take long for him to realize that he could probably jump up and down, and it wouldn’t make a difference. Both of her ears were plugged with headphones, effectively shutting her off from the sounds of the outside world.

Despite this fact, he carefully sat down on the edge of the table to her left, so close that her limp hand, resting on it, ended up parallel and very close to his leg. First, he glanced at the textbooks spread out before her, then at the thick book by her father, the one she still read every day. Finally, his gaze fell on her—on that face, deeply asleep. Unable to resist, he lifted his trembling hand and gently tucked the strands of hair that had fallen onto her face behind her ear.

The moment his fingers brushed her skin, she jolted awake with a startled flinch. Spencer blushed, realizing only then what he had done. To avoid embarrassing himself, he quickly cleared his throat and spoke up.

“Sorry to wake you. But this probably isn’t the most comfortable place to nap.”

She straightened up, blinking in confusion.

“Did I fall asleep…?” Her gaze locked on him, and she shook her head, now fully awake. “Oh, I definitely fell asleep. I didn’t even notice you coming up.”

“Maybe I was sneaking around too much. Anyway, what were you working on before you passed out? Studying, reading?”

Still rubbing her tired face, she looked at her things.

“I guess a bit of both. I had some catch-up work I wanted to do. Then I decided I had enough, and my brain just couldn’t absorb any more new facts or information. So, I started reading.” She nodded toward the book.

Reid stared at her for a moment longer.

“You know… I’ve been thinking about it lately,” he began. It was a little hard for him to focus on speaking when she rested her chin on her hand, looking at him from beneath her lifted lashes. Her eyes were puffy, mascara slightly smudged under her eyelids, but she still looked… well, it was hard to put it into a single word. “About your dad’s book, I mean.” Actually, he'd mostly been thinking about her, but that topic had popped into his mind for a moment. “And that quote you read to me once. It seemed pretty good, and I’m surprised no publisher wanted to release it. What’s it actually about?”

He felt confused by the sudden amusement that appeared on her face.

“What’s going on?” He furrowed his brows.

She shook her head, trying to suppress her laughter.

“Just so you know, I’m not laughing at you,” she quickly reassured him. “It’s just when I imagined your reaction… okay, just listen. My dad’s novel is about a young student, a poor one, who, in a moment of desperation, decides to murder a woman from whom he borrowed money. And then for the next thousand pages, he alternates between hating himself and trying to justify his actions in his own eyes.”

Spencer was silent, his brows lowering more and more.

“Sorry… I really don’t want to accuse your dad of plagiarism, but this sounds like…”

“Crime and Punishment, I know. And it is plagiarism. Well, he preferred to call it inspiration, and, to be fair, not everything is the same. The story takes place in New York instead of Petersburg, the main character’s name is different, but everything else… it’s the same, only longer. Every chapter stretched to its limits, with reflections on every possible subject. It’s almost twice the length of the original.”

Not knowing how exactly to respond, he did what felt most natural. He laughed, and she followed with a quick chuckle.

“Sorry, this is so absurd. Why... why did he actually do it?”

“I ask myself that question every day, believe me. He was kind of a Dostoyevsky wannabe. On his desk, he kept a photo of me and a collector’s edition of The Brothers Karamazov. He even... he even tried to force me to study Russian philology instead of criminology, but, well… you can see how that turned out. And if this sounds absurd to you, guess what the main character’s name is?”

“You mentioned it’s different. But I have no idea, probably something more in line with American standards…”

“Oh, very much. Rodney Rozzleknock. Now I bet you’re not surprised nobody wanted to publish it?”

For a moment, they sat in silence, he alternately shook his head in disbelief and hid his face in his hands. This was probably the most absurdly funny thing he had heard in a long time, and if it weren’t for the actual version of the book they were talking about being right in front of him, he wouldn’t believe it existed.

"So that's why you know so much about Russian literature," he said. They had once had a brief conversation on the topic, and he had actually been impressed.

"It wasn’t knowledge I willingly acquired. And by the way, what are you doing here, Professor?"

He shrugged. She hadn’t used that title for him in a while, but hadn’t yet started using his first name either, and he wasn’t sure how to suggest it.

"I was planning to drop by the ball for a bit, but I decided I’d rather spend some time among books. Speaking of which, the ball. Didn’t you want to go?"

He assumed that she might be similar to him in that regard and didn’t really care for events like that. But, to his surprise, a certain, not so obvious expression crossed her face.

"Actually, I would have gone if I had gotten an invitation."

"I don’t understand," he furrowed his brows. "You don’t need an invitation. Your department organized it, you were all invited just by the fact of it.”

Her lips parted in shock, and a short Oh escaped.

"In that case... I guess it doesn't matter anymore. It's too late. My friend won't be there, the rest of my friends have probably already gone, and I won’t be able to find them in the crowd, and..." She sighed, a bit embarrassed. "And I guess I'm just kind of too shy to show up there alone."

Reid watched her in silence for a moment. A foolish thought crossed his mind. Foolish, but... was it really? He had no idea how she might interpret it, whether she’d even want to, or what she’d think of him.

“I’d be happy to... go with you,” he blurted out, nervously swallowing the lump in his throat as soon as the words left his mouth. His eyes stayed fixed on her, searching for her reaction.

And she... burst into laughter, probably assuming he was joking.

“Wait... seriously?” she asked, straightening her shoulders, her tone suddenly more incredulous. “But... how do you even imagine that? It’s already started, I’m completely unprepared, and it’s formal attire only…”

"I’ll need to change too. But it won’t take long, and the ball goes on late. We’ll only be a little late," he reasoned logically, realizing he was actively trying to convince her. He hated these kinds of events, but this was a chance to spend time together... Besides, he was doing it for her. Why should she miss out on something she clearly wanted to attend just because of a misunderstanding and a bit of shyness?

"Yeah... but I’ll still have to deal with everything else. I look—"

Before she could finish, he leaned in and gently wiped the smudged mascara from under her eye with his thumb.

"You look perfect. Just right for the ball. So?"

Her eyes widened at the gesture, and a sharp exhale escaped her lips.

“Okay. Okay. I think... I think we can do this... Why not? Just give me fifteen minutes. Thirty. Thirty minutes...”

As she spoke, she hastily gathered all her belongings into her bag, glanced at him for a brief moment, then disappeared in a rush, not even looking back over her shoulder.

Spencer, on the other hand, felt as though he had been glued to the table he was perched on. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest.

Did he just... ask the girl he liked to a ball?

And she said yes?

He still couldn’t quite believe it, even when, exactly thirty minutes later—almost as though she’d measured the time with a stopwatch—they met again at the entrance to the gymnasium, now transformed for the occasion.

The floor had been covered in polished wooden panels, and the walls were draped with light-colored fabrics, adorned with strings of glowing garlands shaped like snowflakes. In the corner of the room, a small stage, decorated with sprigs of evergreen, hosted a modest orchestra of students and members of the college choir, playing gentle holiday tunes live.

The scene was beautiful, almost magical, but Spencer only took it in once as they entered. For the rest of the evening, his attention was solely on her—because, once again, he couldn’t find the words to describe what he was seeing.

And that didn’t happen very often.

"Do you think... do you think any of the other professors might disapprove of you being here with me?" she asked hesitantly as they made their way along the edge of the gym, skirting the buffet and staying far from the crowd dancing in the center.

For a moment, Spencer didn’t process her question. He was too focused on the way her lips moved as she spoke, too focused on her. Shaking himself out of it, he replayed her words in his mind.

"I… uh… no, I don’t think so," he replied, stumbling over his words. "Why would they? We’re both adults."

She still didn’t look convinced. Her brow furrowed, her gaze darting between the dance floor and him. Her hand rested lightly on his forearm, keeping them connected in the growing crowd, though she kept adjusting her grip as if unsure about the contact.

When Spencer tried to pull away, thinking she might be uncomfortable, she surprised him by grabbing his arm again, more firmly this time. Her insistence sent a strange, electrifying warmth through him.

He sighed softly, acutely aware of how close they were now—so close that their hips nearly brushed with every step. "Besides," he added, trying to sound reassuring, "this is a ball. Everyone’s here to have fun. No one’s going to pay any attention to us."

She nodded, as if trying to convince herself of the same thing, though her gaze drifted once more to the couples twirling around the dance floor. He felt a pang of apprehension, hoping she didn’t want to join them. That would be a disaster—he’d only manage to humiliate himself in front of her.

"I’m not much of a dancer," he blurted out quickly. "Okay, that’s an understatement. I’m a terrible dancer. You’d… you’d really rather not see me try, trust me."

For a moment, she stayed silent, her expression unreadable. Then, a small smile tugged at her lips.

"I, on the other hand, am a pretty good dancer," she admitted, attempting to sound modest. But after a beat, she rolled her eyes at herself and added with a wry laugh, "Okay, fine—I’m very good. My dad was a Dostoyevsky fanatic, but my mom? She was obsessed with dance. She practically dragged me to lessons for years. She thought it was a terrible shame not to know how to dance—especially for a man. No offense, of course."

Spencer ducked his head with a soft laugh.

"None taken. Listen, I believe you're a fantastic teacher... but I also believe I'm a lost cause. I might accidentally step on your feet..."

"You should pray that I don't step on your feet," she retorted with a laugh, extending her foot and tapping the heel of her shoe for emphasis. "But I think you should at least give it a try. After all, it’s a ball."

Spencer looked at her for a moment, caught between amusement and mild dread, before finally shrugging with a resigned grin. 

Earlier in life, he hadn’t had many opportunities to dance, so he was relieved that the piece being played by the school orchestra turned out to be incredibly slow. He could only cautiously mimic her movements, trying not to hurt her. However, focus came with difficulty as his nostrils were constantly filled with the sweet, distracting scent of her perfume and her body itself.

“You’re doing great,” she whispered softly, briefly lifting her gaze to him. He stared at her face for a moment, so close to his, cursing in his mind when she lowered her gaze again…

All evening, he had to fight with himself to avoid doing anything foolish.

But when, at midnight, they found themselves in his office, it became incredibly difficult.

Especially when she was slightly leaning against his desk, just in front of him, and the blush of dance-induced fatigue covered most of her neck. He wanted to touch that particular spot on her skin, expecting the blood to be pulsing there very quickly.

Her breath seemed quickened too, and every sound that escaped her lips drew him closer and closer to her. To the point where he thought he might lose his mind.

“Thank you for tonight,” he said, hoping that if he focused on the words, on speaking them, it might somehow sober him from this state. “I really... didn’t expect to have such a great time at the ball.”

Speaking wasn’t helping; the way her gaze wandered over him certainly wasn’t helping. The way the dress fit her body... none of it was helping.

"I'm glad," she said softly, the redness now covering not just her neck but most of her cheeks as well. She took a deep breath, as if calming herself. "You know, I felt a little guilty because I had the impression that you went there just for me."

"Well, I considered going alone... earlier," he confessed. "But in the end, I changed my mind, and I'm glad I did, because otherwise, I wouldn't have run into you, and I wouldn't remember any of this so clearly. Thank you," he repeated, and before he knew it, he was standing even closer to her, closer than propriety would dictate. Unable to fight it any longer, he reached for her hip, hidden beneath the fabric of her dress. She sharply inhaled, seeming embarrassed by her own reaction. He started to pull back, but then she lightly perched herself on the edge of the desk... and his hand slid down her body, gently grazing her knee. “"Really, I would like to thank you..."

His throat went dry, a nervous sweat rose on his neck. He felt her knee, then her thigh under his finger, his whole hand under the fabric of her dress, heading higher and higher…but suddenly stopped, when her trembling hands began to untie his tie.

"Probably... probably you're uncomfortable," she explained, swallowing. She looked at the collar of his shirt, at the place where his hands were, but couldn't bring herself to look him in the eyes. "It's a bit... stuffy in here."

He could feel the moisture on his fingers even though his fingers didn’t even get inside. He hesitated right there, glancing uncertainly at her face. Her eyes were closed, and she was breathing heavily, exhales escaping her lips with a quiet hiss.

"Are you okay?" he asked, making sure. He didn't like the fact that her eyes were closed; he couldn't read many emotions from her face, and he needed to be certain that this was what she wanted. Her face didn't even twitch at his question. "I won't do anything more if you don't answer me."

She swallowed, their faces were inches apart, and he could see and hear it.

"What... what would you like me to answer?"

"Just that you want this," he whispered.

"I want this...Spencer."

It was probably the first time she addressed him by his name, but the state he was in didn’t allow him to trust his memory too much. He hadn’t expected himself to ever think like that. In any case, it acted like a catalyst for him. Barely had the last syllable left her lips, his finger sank into her. 

One, and soon after, another.

His name escaped her lips again, but this time, halfway through, it turned into a sweet, pleading moan. For a while, no sound other than their restless breaths could be heard in the office. Her moan tore through the surroundings, pierced the air, and lodged itself there forever. Just as it became lodged in his ears, tickling them from within. He wanted to hear it again...He quickly found the rhythm that most often caused it.

She spread her legs wider which allowed him to get closer, to gain better access. At first, both of her hands were gripping the edge of the desk, her knuckles almost white. With each of his movements, stronger and gradually faster, they began to loosen slowly, until they finally released completely. Surprised, she sighed, not knowing where to place them, and threw them around his neck.

“Is… is this how you’re thanking me for today?’ she asked, her voice high, he could barely understand her through the chaotic breaths. He was so focused that he didn’t even notice she had opened her eyes. 

Her beautiful eyes. So pleading, begging him not to stop.

"Are you taking this as a form of thanks?"

She nodded, and at the same moment, she closed her eyes again, tilting her head back. Spencer groaned at the sight of her exposed neck, the blush covering it. He leaned to taste her warm skin, pressing his lips against it, then sighed directly into her, as a shiver ran through her entire body.

He had a feeling that if one more sound escaped her lips, he would simply lose his mind. Barely managed to speak again, his voice completely out of place with the words he intended to say, so high, almost crying.

"That's... that's not enough to thank you, don't you think?"

taglist: @she-wont-miss @mggslover @kakamixoxo @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420 @wmoony @heddgie @khxna @marauder-exe-old @yujyujj @charleyreid @aristeia29 @kitty-kai @sp3ncelle @nightfullofparadox

[accioharrington9]

we can't be friends (but i'd like to just pretend)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

prompt: four times you spent a holiday with your best friend Steve Harrington and one time you didn't and missed him.

word count: 10.2k

warnings: friends-to-lovers, everyone can see it (including steve and reader but they're both kind of in denial), mutual pining, characters in their mid-twenties, fluff and (some) emotional angst, steve uses a cheesy nickname for reader, mentions of partying and alcohol consumption, some swearing, no use of y/n

notes: hi all, this is the first reader fic that i publish here, so bear with me, i tried my best <3 in light of the year-end celebrations, this fun little idea of a fic came to me and i decided to give it a shot, so i hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

🥂🥂🥂

“What are your resolutions for the new year?”

You looked up from your glass of champagne when Steve asked you that question out of the blue. You were both leaning against the kitchen island at Nancy and Jonathan’s apartment, distractedly observing your friends playing a drinking game you had both stepped out of.  You were glad to allow your friends their fun, but mostly, to have a reason to get some alone time, just the two of you. A silent agreement, as always.

“You know I don’t believe in resolutions,” you answered before bringing a flute smudged by your red lipstick to your lips.

“Oh, come on, kitten, humor me for a second.”

You raised an eyebrow at him while he waited for your response with a cheeky smile. You heard Robin burst into laughter from the living room, but you were too focused on Steve’s loose strand of hair and the woody scent of his new cologne to acknowledge it.

“Fine,” you obliged him. “Well, I resolve to quit drinking coffee, exercise more, and buy a new and well-functioning car.”

“You’re full of shit,” Steve laughed. “Like you’re ever going to get rid of Gina.”

“Of course I’m not getting rid of Gina, she’s my ride-or-die,” you said, referring to your personified old car.

“Yeah, emphasis on ‘die’ – you're missing a rearview mirror in there.”

You nudged him playfully, briefly losing your balance but Steve helped steady you immediately, putting a hand on your hips that hovered there longer than necessary. You chuckled for good measure but couldn’t help the heat that rushed to your face.

Everyone knew you and Steve had a thing for each other. It had been that way since high school – lingering looks in the hallway between classes, overly tactile during a mundane conversation, pretending to forget something at the other’s house to have a reason to go there again… Everyone knew it, was used to it, and never mentioned anything about it – you and Steve included.

Nothing had ever happened because the timing was always off. If it wasn’t Steve who was dating someone, you were; then you moved away to go to college, and when you came back to Hawkins after graduating, Steve had just left for an internship in New York. Eventually, you grew tired of the never-ending “what-ifs” and made your peace knowing that Steve Harrington would always be more than just a friend but less than a lover. A fine line you both tiptoed in and out of too much over the past eight years.

“What about you?” you eventually asked Steve. “You’re corny as shit, you must have a lot of them resolutions in mind.”

“I only thought of a couple, and they’re not that corny.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

Steve laughed again, running a hand through his hair as he reflected on what he’d say. You admired him while he did so. It was frustrating, still having that teenage crush on your longtime friend, not being able to let it go, not entirely at least. You sometimes wished you could be his friend the way Robin was to him, or Eddie was to you. It would make it all so much easier, so much less painful than this in two minds you were both stuck in, this blatant desire for more, this fear that it could all be ruined in seconds, poor decisions fragmenting the illusion of a blissful friendship.

“I thought about learning how to play the guitar.”

“Cliché,” you teased. “What else?”

You could see the turn the conversation had taken when Steve hesitated before talking – looked nervous, even.

“Moving out. Getting my own place.”

You stared at Steve, quiet. You couldn’t say you were surprised – he’d been roommates with Eddie since they both enrolled in community college a few years ago. Even after graduating and getting a job, they stayed that way, because it was simple; splitting the bills, having someone to talk to after a lonely day. But it could only work for so long. It was only a matter of time until one or the other got bored and needed a change of scenery. To you, it was no surprise Steve had that revelation first.

“You sound serious,” was the only comment you could express.

“Because I am,” Steve said. “I started looking at one-bedroom apartments to rent in the neighborhood.”

“Does Eddie know?” you asked.

Steve pursed his lips as he shook his head from left to right. You hummed and couldn’t help but look at the young man in question, with his curly hair tied back in a bun and his poor imitation of some football player his team had to guess the name of. You loved this friend group – you loved the dynamic, the hijinks, and the stability. You loved hanging out with Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan at Eddie and Steve's apartment. You loved everything about it and the thought of losing your bearings, of disrupting your habits, made you too sad for the 31st of December, five minutes away from another midnight of confetti, embraces, and promises.

“You’re the first person I told,” Steve eventually said, breaking the silence that had settled between you two. “I thought you could share some of that wisdom you have to advise me.”

You snorted, lazily knocking your shoulder against his arm. “You buttering up to me, Harrington?”

“Only if it’s working.”

You got lost in his beautiful brown eyes, aware of the subtlest things, like his pinky finger brushing your hand timidly, the mint toothpaste on his breath, or how perfectly he wore the sweater you gifted him. It felt so right, standing close to him and toying with the possibility of the unknown. It always did with Steve.

“Okay guys, it’s officially one minute away from midnight, gather ‘round!!” Nancy exclaimed, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention.

Reluctantly, you left the little bubble of peace and happiness you had created in the kitchen, Steve following closely behind. As you started counting down from ten, surrounded by all your closest and dearest friends, you only had eyes for Steve.

It had become a habit since you first celebrated New Year’s Eve with him years ago – you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d kiss you at midnight. It was a fantasy you’d entertained ever since you were eighteen, the final and first thought of each year that passed without ever becoming real. Each year, naively, you thought it’d be different. But each year, it was the same old song all over again.

As the clock struck midnight and cheers erupted among the friend group, you hugged everyone. You saved the best ‘til last, heart beating frantically as Steve wrapped his arms around you. You buried your face in his neck, getting drunk on his cologne – pathetic, disillusioned.

“Happy New Year, kitten,” Steve whispered in your ear before kissing your cheek – soft, tender, and terribly platonic, as usual.

“Happy New Year, Harrington,” you kissed his cheek in return, the trace of your lipstick leaving a mark on his skin like a temporary tattoo.

And you were too busy thinking about the undone to notice that this year, Steve held you in his arms a little longer than usual.

🌹🌹🌹

“Bro-lentine’s Day?”

“Is that one of those boys band they keep talking about on the radio?"

You held back a laugh at Steve’s question and Eddie’s comment regarding the odd suggestion Robin had just made. The four of you were waiting in line at a Wendy's drive-thru in Steve’s car, the crescent moon shining its feeble light in the night sky above.

“Why would you even think about spending Valentine’s Day with your loser single friends when you have a beautiful girlfriend you could shower with gifts?” Eddie asked, to which Steve, behind the wheel, concurred immediately.

“I mean, I obviously love you guys, but I mostly suggest that because Vickie’s working a night shift on the 14th and I figured it’d be nice to hang out together, the four of us, instead of just… I don’t know, being alone?” Robin admitted.

“Oh, so we’re your stand-ins?” Eddie exclaimed, feigning offense under your amused attention. “Classy, Buckley.”

“That sounds a hell of a lot like a pity party, Rob,” Steve pointed out.

You laughed along as Robin kept putting her foot in her mouth. It was often like that – Robin and Eddie gently bickering in the back seats while you exchanged knowing looks with Steve, in your designated seat at the front of the car.

The only difference was this time, when Steve searched for your eyes to have a silent laugh with you, you avoided his gaze, pretending to look in the distance, thinking about something you needed to say to him but couldn’t find the courage to.

“Okay, fine,” Eddie eventually yielded. “Let’s do this thing. But I have one condition – we go to Steve’s new apartment.”

“Excellent idea!” Robin exclaimed, enthusiastic.

“I told you guys, I’m not done unboxing my stuff, the place is a mess,” Steve argued as he started the ignition to move forward.

Robin rolled her eyes. “You say that like you have a thousand boxes.”

“It's his plethora of hair products - they take up a lot of room,” Eddie teased, which made Robin snort.

“You’re both hilarious, seriously, I can’t stop laughing,” Steve said with a straight face.

“So, it’s a deal,” Eddie said. “Bro-lentine’s Day at Steve’s new place – no, I’m sorry Rob, you’ll have to find another name, I hate how it sounds when it comes out of my mouth.”

“What do you think, babes?”

You only focused back on the conversation when Robin called your name, looking away from the constellations in the sky.

“Hmm? Oh, I’m sorry babes but count me out of this one,” you said with a sorry smile.

Robin laughed, thinking you were probably messing with her. Steve was driving slowly now that the line ahead finally seemed to clear.

“Right, because you have something better to do on Valentine’s Day, of course,” Robin joked while Eddie chuckled.

You tried not to take offense because you knew it was some innocent banter, but it didn’t stop you from frowning.

“Actually, yes, I do,” you contradicted. “I have a date that day.”

The car braked abruptly, causing a blast of horns from the vehicle behind and surprised yelps from the back seats.

“What the fuck, Harrington??” Eddie ranted. “That’s why I keep telling you you’re a shit driver, seriously, how did you manage to get your license, man?"

“Sorry, I got… distracted for a sec’,” Steve apologized.

You couldn’t bear to look Steve in the eye, so you toyed with the bracelets around your wrists and stared at your shoes, waiting for your friends’ reaction to the news.

“Is it someone we know?” Robin asked bluntly. “It’s the cute guy from the music shop at the mall, isn’t it? I knew he had a crush on you, you’re the only one who got Like a Prayer for half price.”

“It was… actually a twenty-percent discount,” you corrected, even though none of your friends cared about that information.

“Who even asks someone out on Valentine’s Day?” Eddie asked himself out loud. “We have three hundred and sixty-five days a year, why choose this nightmare of a commercialized day deliberately?”

“I think it’s cute,” Robin shrugged.

You attempted a smile, but it was nowhere near convincing. Robin and Eddie weren’t even paying attention to you anymore, discussing with each other the pros and cons of a first date on the 14th of February. You gathered the courage to look at Steve, decipher his expression. He might’ve been trying to get your attention a moment ago, but now, he was just staring in front of him, both hands firmly holding the lower part of the wheel.

“So, you’re really going to abandon me with these two idiots, huh?”

Your laugh at Steve’s rhetorical question was a mix of amusement and relief. If there was one thing that meant more than anything to you, it was the harmony between you two. You knew that as soon as you or Steve dated someone, that harmony was threatened. It had happened before. It was a fatality.

“You’ll be just fine,” you assured softly. “It’s just one night.”

Steve chuckled, finally making it to the pickup window. “Yeah, you’re right. Just one night. Easy-peasy.”

At that moment, you couldn’t have imagined that on the 14th of February, you’d find yourself knocking on Steve’s door at ten in the evening, makeup ruined by your disappointed tears, holding tight to your coat and shame in the cold evening air.

When Steve opened the door and saw you standing before him, he blinked at the unexpected sight of you sniffing and shivering.

“What are you doing here, kitten? Is everything okay?”

As soon as you heard Steve’s voice and the concern he displayed, it was out of your control – another tear rolled down your cheek.

“Oh no. Come here.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice- when Steve opened his arms at you, you dived in, letting him hug you tight, accepting his warmth and empathy.

“Dude stood you up?” Steve asked, voice muffled as his face was buried in your hair.

“Worse,” you said. “He was there.”

Steve huffed, because it could’ve been a funny anecdote if not for the dried mascara that ran under your eyes.

“So, we’re not going to the music shop again, huh?”

“I never said it was the guy from the music shop,” you pointed out.

“You never denied it either.”

You snorted and you felt Steve smile against your head. He was the first to part from your embrace, but you were under the impression he could’ve stayed like that much longer.

“What’s taking so long, dingus?” Robin shouted from the living room. “You need help with the pizzas?”

“It’s not the pizzas,” Steve retorted as you stepped inside the apartment.

Both Robin and Eddie turned around on the couch and looked equally surprised to see you there.

“Is it okay if I crash Bro-lentine’s Day?” you asked sheepishly.

“We’re not calling it that!” Eddie said in a singsong.

“You’re more than welcome to crash Bro-lentine’s Day, babes,” Robin told you while wrapping her arm around your shoulders as you sat next to her.

“I give up,” Eddie sighed before heading for the kitchen.

“What did the loser do to get you like that?” Robin inquired, touching your face where the tears had dried.

“Honestly, he wasn’t even that bad,” you explained. “He just… wasn’t what I expected. I guess I’m tired of getting my hopes up and ending up disappointed every time.” You paused, reflecting on that state of mind. “It’s stupid, I know.”

“It’s not stupid,” Robin contradicted with a sympathetic smile. “It’s Valentine’s Day, anyone would’ve expected a perfect date.”

“Hence why you don’t date on that doomed day.”

“Can’t you just let it go already, Eddie??”

You smiled softly at your friends’ innocent quarrel, and you realized in the end, there were no other people you’d rather spend the day of love and romance with.

So, you settled comfortably on the couch in Steve’s new apartment, surrounded by dozens of wrapped boxes and your closest friends with a glass of wine and a cheesy movie to watch, sharing the details of your date with them.

“Well, his loss, darling, not yours,” Eddie said in conclusion to your story.

“Definitely,” Robin nodded.

You smiled lightly and you thought maybe, just maybe, they were right.

“Why are you smiling like that, Harrington?” Eddie then asked.

“Hmm? Oh, no reason,” Steve answered casually before finding a tiny spot between you and Robin on the couch.

🎉🎉🎉

There was nothing more frustrating than being late to meet your friends and having your car’s engine make that hideous sputtering sound as you kept putting the key in the ignition without it ever starting.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you echoed in sync with the car’s noises.

“I see Gina’s being cranky today.”

You glared at Steve, sitting in the passenger seat and enjoying himself a little too much.

“It’s too hot outside, she doesn’t like it when it’s too hot,” you explained to yourself more than Steve.

“It’s the 4th of July, kitten. It’s always hot on the 4th of July.”

“Thank you so much for this enlightening forecast, Harrington, have you ever considered a career in meteorology?”

You bit your lip when you realized how harsh your comeback had sounded. You slowly turned your head to lay regretful eyes on your friend.

“Sorry,” you winced.

“You’re good. I think I know why Gina’s cranky today – she takes from her owner.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t bother denying it.

The sun was starting to set in a sky adorned with pink and orange hues only summer could take credit for. The air was hot, crickets chirping and bees buzzing while the whole town was already busying itself in preparation for the incoming festivities.

For the past six years, on Independence Day, you’ve met all your friends by the lake on the outskirts of Hawkins to have a barbecue with beers and watch the fireworks. It was a tradition you all honored religiously each Fourth of July.

Except this year, Robin was celebrating with Vickie’s family, Eddie was working at the music camp, which meant you were spending the evening with Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve, a group hangout that looked an awful lot like a double date, and it worked yourself up into quite a state.

“Did you get the Buds?” you asked Steve as the ignition still wouldn’t start.

“Packs in the trunk,” Steve answered straight off.

“And the blankets?”

“In the backseat.”

“The radio for the music?”

“Nance’s taking care of it.”

You fell back in your seat after failing one too many times to start the car and just closed your eyes, sighing heavily. You wiped your hands on your shorts, the summer heat getting the best of you, chest heaving and patience hanging by a thread.

“We can take my car tonight, maybe Gina needs the rest,” Steve suggested. It irritated you even more.

“We always take your car, tonight’s the one night a year we take mine,” you argued, putting the keys in the ignition again.

“We’ll take yours another time, then, it’s no big deal.”

“No,” you just said.

Without a heads-up, you got out of the vehicle. Steve followed you as you opened the hood to check the engine. You were rough in your endeavor, hair falling out on your face and hands quickly stained with oil.

“Why are you being so stubborn today?” Steve asked you, tone cutting sharp like a knife.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are! You can tell as much as I can your car’s not going anywhere tonight, mine’s parked right behind and ready to go, so why are we losing time for nothing?”

“She’s just being picky right now but I’m getting there. She needs a little boost and she’s good to go,” you insisted, wiping the back of your hand on your forehead before realizing it’d smudge the oil.

“Yeah, sure, at this rate, she’ll be good to go for Thanksgiving,” Steve said ironically.

You shut the hood close abruptly, shooting daggers at Steve as he stood in front of you with his arms crossed. He looked just as irritated as you did.

“You’re being an asshole,” you stated matter-of-factly.

Steve snickered, eyebrows raising like he couldn’t believe what he just heard.

“Oh, I’m the asshole in this situation? You’re a fine one to talk!”

“Are you seriously turning the tables on me right now?!”

“I’m not, you’re clearly in a mood today and you’re taking it out on me! Last I heard, I’m not a punching bag!”

Your face twisted into a scowl because Steve annoyed you a great deal, but mostly because he was right. You were far from being good company today, and today was meant to be fun, chill, eventful. You could blame it all on Gina, but you knew that was just the tip of the iceberg.

“I’m just saying I’m going to get the car started just fine, all I need is a few minutes to figure it out. And we’re already late anyway, they won’t hate us for the extra ten minutes,” you said as you opened the hood again.

“This is not about the car and we both know it,” Steve stated, sure of himself. Of course, he was – he knew you like the back of his hand.

You closed the hood as soon as you opened it, walking closer to Steve to face him properly.

“Maybe you should take it easy if you want her to work, you know,” Steve remarked.

“Why don’t you just say what’s on my mind, Steve? Since you apparently know it better than I do,” you hit him with your words.

“But that’s just the thing! I don’t!” Steve exclaimed, his voice raising an octave. “I don’t know what’s going on with you right now and you won’t tell me a goddamn thing!”

“You already know what’s going on with me, I made it perfectly clear – I want my fucking car to start so we can go and meet our friends, as we do every year!”

“And I made it perfectly clear that we can take my car, so why are we still arguing about this??”

“Because it’s the way things are supposed to be!!”

The silence that followed that revelation felt intrusive. You couldn’t wait for Steve to tell you off, to argue with you some more, but instead, he didn’t say another word and just stared at you, dumbfounded. It allowed you to reflect on your behavior of the past ten minutes and you immediately dropped your eyes to look at your shoes, ashamed.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked you then, voice softer.

You sighed and looked in the distance, avoiding his gaze.

“It’s the tradition. On the 4th of July, you come to my place to help me pack everything, we take my car to pick up Eddie and Robin on the way to the lake, we meet Nance and Jonathan there, then, you and Eddie set the barbecue while Jonathan and I take care of the music, and Nance and Robin lay the blankets to make us cozy. And we eat and drink until they shoot the fireworks from downtown – it’s how the day is supposed to go.”

“Right, and it’s how it’s going to go today,” Steve assured, confused.

“No, it’s not. Rob and Eddie are not there this year, and because of Gina, we’re late and missing out on the sunset.” You paused, taking a breath. “It’s what I look forward to the most. Watching the sunset on the lake with you guys. All of you.”

Steve relaxed his shoulders and breathed out like he finally made sense of the underlying problem. He stepped closer to you and his hand cupped your face, willing you to look him in the eyes.

“Okay, I’m going to take a wild guess and assume it has something to do with Nancy and Jonathan talking about moving to Chicago next year for Nancy’s job,” Steve said. “Am I boiling or getting colder?”

The rhetorical question elicited a weak smile on your lips.

“I know Chicago’s not that far from Hawkins, but… I like the way things are right now, you know?” you explained while Steve listened, nodding. “I like that we can hang out whenever we want to, show up unannounced at each other’s place, and whatnot.”

“You can still do that if they move to Chicago. It’ll just take you more than three hours to get there,” he teased you.

Steve did it – he made you laugh. “I’m not so sure Gina would survive the trip.”

“I’ll let you borrow my car, then,” Steve whispered, and even though you were bantering, it sounded like a promise.

You chuckled, the knot in your stomach coming undone as Steve put his thumb to your forehead, stroking where you had wiped the oil stain earlier.

“You look like shit,” he told you unceremoniously.

“And you’re a shitty friend,” you bit back, making you both smile.

Friend. The denomination never felt strong enough to define what you and Steve meant to one another. Yet, it was the only one you used, the only one that brought you comfort, especially in those blurry moments that kept you wondering why that boy had always been so sweet and kind to you, even when you felt undeserving.

You jumped at the sound of a car honking from the street, bringing you back to reality as you and Steve turned your heads to see what happened. You felt amused, and somehow relieved when you saw Nancy popping her head out the passenger window of Jonathan’s car like a beautifully staged interruption.

“Oh my God, you guys are late too?” Nancy shouted at them. “I told Jonathan to go over the speed limit, and as you can imagine, he was not happy about it.”

Steve laughed, and you followed suit because it was almost ridiculous, how perfect the situation had turned out. Sure, things felt different this year, with winds of change impending, and the future of your friend group unclear. But at least, you were all on the same page.

“While we’re here, get in the car with us!” Nancy offered, gesturing for you to come closer. “Maybe we can still catch the sunset.”

You exchanged an amused look with Steve, silently agreeing that your uncooperative car and your latest conversation would remain a secret you’d share only between you. Your friends didn’t need to know the reason why you were late.

So, you and Steve hurried to put everything in Jonathan’s car, climbed in the backseat, and made it to the lake just in time to admire the remnant of sunset and put everything into place to wait for the fireworks.

And as you put a blanket over your and Nancy’s shoulders, the fire crackling in the quiet of the evening around you, you couldn’t help but search for Steve’s eyes. He was already looking at you, sitting across the fire next to Jonathan. You smiled when you realized, and he winked at you, playful, secretive.

Maybe you were lying to yourself, in the end. Maybe you didn’t mean it when you said you liked things the way they were. Maybe there was one thing you wouldn’t mind changing, you thought as you looked away from Steve to look up at the fireworks now erupting in the sky above.

🎃🎃🎃

“I’m not sure I get it, Robin – who are you dressed as?”

“Are you seriously asking me that question, Nance? Marty McFly? Don’t tell me you still haven’t watched Back to the Future!”

“I didn’t have time.”

“In five years, you didn’t have time to watch a two-hour movie?”

“I work a lot, okay?!”

You were only half-listening to Robin and Nancy’s bickering as you finished getting ready for the Halloween party that your high school classmate Tina and her best friend Vicki Carmichael threw every year.

Usually, on the 31st of October, you would just crash at Steve and Eddie’s former apartment with the group, stuffing your face with popcorn and watching horror movies. But this year, the boys didn’t live at that apartment anymore and it was the last Halloween you’d all spend together in Hawkins before Jonathan and Nancy moved to Chicago next January. You all agreed it called for a memorable celebration, hence why you were now getting ready with the girls at your place.

“So, you mean to tell me you haven’t had time to watch Back to the Future, but you had it to watch all three Star Wars movies, judging on your costume?” Robin asked while Nancy grunted in frustration.

“I told you last week, me and Jonathan are wearing couple’s costumes – he’s Han Solo and I’m Princess Leia, obviously,” she explained while pointing at her long white dress and peculiar hairstyle.

“Couple’s costumes,” Robin repeated. “Kids these days, they’re just talking nonsense.”

“It’s romantic and fun, you’re just jealous you didn’t think about it for you and Vickie,” Nancy retorted as you were starting to think you were in the middle of playground taunts.

“Oh yeah, I should’ve asked Vickie to dress as Doc, it would’ve been crazy romantic,” Robin sassed.

Once the heels were at your feet, you turned around on your chair to stare at your friends.

“You two realize how stupid your fight is, right?” you chipped in.

“We’re not fighting,” Robin and Nancy said in unison.

You rolled your eyes and turned back around to face your vanity and finish your makeup, but it was too late – you had involuntarily drawn the attention to you.

“And who are you dressing as, hot stuff?” Nancy cooed while smirking at your reflection in the mirror.

You hummed the Dirty Dancing theme song to answer her question, and she nodded approvingly, taking in your pink dress and silver heels.

“I love it,” Nancy smiled.

“Thanks,” you said as you stood up. “And you two look equally great, so stop biting each other’s heads off.”

“So, if you’re Jennifer Grey, does it mean Steve’s dressing as Patrick Swayze? I could see him pulling that off.”

Robin’s question took you aback for it came out of nowhere. You gaped at her, face warm and thoughts racing.

“Hmm, no, he’s not. That’d… be a great couple’s costume, for sure. But we’re not a couple, so…” you stammered, awfully self-conscious.

“Well, yeah, but you might as well be.”

“Robin,” Nancy reprimanded her with warning eyes.

“What??” Robin exclaimed while you watched, confused. “It’s not like she doesn’t know what I mean, it’s been going on for years, this… whatever this is. And honestly, we’re all tired of pretending like we can’t see it.”

Nancy blushed, embarrassment written all over her face as she rubbed a hand over it.

“I don’t… understand,” you admitted, tugging at the hems of your dress to anchor yourself in the moment.

“There’s nothing to understand, babes,” Nancy said softly. “Robin was just joking. Right, Rob?”

Nancy was now glaring at Robin, who had no option but to concur. It felt like you were missing something there, and you didn’t like it. Were your friends talking behind your back? Were they annoyed at your relationship with Steve? Annoyed at the ambiguity, the unsaid, the attraction? Was it all that obvious as of late?

“I’m sorry, guys,” Robin said with a sigh. “I had a fight with Vickie earlier today and it messed me up a little bit.”

“Oh, babes,” Nancy softened, hugging Robin from the side.

“I know that’s no excuse for being a jerk,” Robin winced in your direction.

“You’re all right,” you said with a sympathetic smile, and both Robin and Nancy seemed relieved.

The three of you talked Robin through her problem until it was time to meet the guys outside. Nancy was the first to exit the apartment, but Robin lingered by the front door, hand hovering hesitantly above the handle. Eventually, she made up her mind and turned over to face you.

“I just want you to know that I’m really sorry for earlier,” Robin told you.

“It’s okay, Rob, I get it. You were upset about your fight with Vickie and said stuff you didn’t mean. It’s fine, it happens to all of us,” you said, wondering why Robin had felt the need to bounce back on that.

“No, but see, that’s the thing – I did mean it,” she contradicted. “I just didn’t say it like I should’ve.”

“And how should you say it?” you asked with a frown.

Robin looked uncertain now, fidgeting where she stood. You imagined that if Nancy were still in the room with you two, she’d probably give Robin an earful.

“When I said that we’re all tired of pretending like we can’t see what there is between you and Steve, I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” she elaborated under your undivided attention. “It’s just… We’re your friends, and you know, as friends, we want what’s best for each other, I’m sure you feel that way about us too –“

“Robin, cut to the chase, please,” you interjected before she could lose herself in her explanation.

“We just think if you two admitted what you’re both obviously feeling for each other… You could be very happy together. And the rest of us would be too because damn, we’ve watched it happen since high school and it’s about time one of you does something about it, babes.”

You stared at the door behind Robin, wishing to run away from this conversation that was too much for you to handle. It was the first time one of your friends confronted you on the matter, upfront, and you had no idea how to react.

“I’m not expecting you to say anything, don’t worry,” Robin added. “I just wanted you to know what everyone else is thinking. Do what you want with that information.”

You opened your mouth to respond but you heard the distinctive sound of Eddie’s van parking on the street, your sign that it was time to go and end this conversation for good. You rushed to the door, opening it before Robin could and hurtling down the stairs to some extent on your heels. Once you were outside, you breathed in slowly, calming down and processing what one of your best friends had just confided to you.

You and Robin met Nancy on the curb as Eddie slid the van’s side door open to let you in the backseats.

“Evening, ladies,” Eddie greeted.

“Wow, you’re Elton!” Nancy exclaimed after studying Eddie’s costume, a white ensemble with feathers and glitter that was the singer’s signature.

“You could get that but not mine?!” Robin exclaimed, almost offended.

“Move on, Rob, and let’s have fun tonight,” Nancy teased her while sitting near Jonathan, dressed in the easily identifiable Han Solo outfit.

Robin took the passenger seat next to Eddie, leaving you with no choice but to sit next to Steve at the back of the van. Of course. Almost like it had been on purpose, you thought to yourself.

You settled next to him and you were almost insecure, something you’d never felt around him. You resented Robin for not knowing best, and not keeping her mouth shut.

“Hey, kitten,” Steve welcomed you as you smoothed the edges of your dress.

“Hey, Harrington,” you said in return, attempting to smile at him.

You studied his costume as he studied yours. Aviator sunglasses on his head, green jumpsuit, sleeves rolled back under his elbows – Maverick from Top Gun. You'd gushed over the character when the movie came out, and you wondered if it happened to be a funny coincidence or if Steve had picked that costume on purpose.

“Baby,” Steve suddenly said.

“What?” you choked out with widened eyes.

Steve frowned. “Your costume,” he clarified. “Baby from Dirty Dancing, right?”

You processed the information and chuckled awkwardly, feeling stupid. You let Robin get in your head and you hated it.

“Right,” you breathed out as Eddie drove away.

Something passed in Steve’s eyes, and you were not sure what it was. Hesitation, desire, resignation… You watched and waited, fingers laced on your lap, heartbeat echoing in your ears.

“You look… very nice,” Steve told you in a hushed voice.

You knew neither Nancy nor Jonathan could’ve heard it – they were engaged in a vivid conversation with Robin and Eddie in the front of the car. It was an intimate declaration, meant for you and you only.

Your lips parted subtly, but Steve’s eyes caught it regardless. It did not soothe the rate of your beating heart.

“Thanks,” you croaked it, throat tight. “You’re not too bad yourself."

Steve smiled briefly, then did the strangest thing. He leaned in, his face awfully close to yours, and you thought; this was it. He was going to kiss you. Right then, right there, in the back of Eddie’s van dressed as the guy from Top Gun on the way to a Halloween party.

And as much as you wanted him to kiss you, it wasn’t how you wanted him to do it. Not the place, not the time. Maybe Steve realized it too because he moved away as quickly as he had gotten closer to you, clearing his throat and watching out the window like nothing happened.

The party at Tina’s villa was loud, messy, and packed with former classmates – some you were glad to run into, others you made a strong case of avoiding. You had a nice chat with your high school sweetheart, even though you could feel Steve’s eyes on you the whole time. When you couldn’t bear the weight of his yearning gaze, you took a sip of that rum punch Vicki Carmichael had made – a few times.

You fled to the bathroom around eleven to freshen up and have some alone time. You were reasonably drunk, but still conscious enough to notice someone was already in the room when you barged into it.

“Oh, so sorry, I didn’t know someone was in there –”

You cut the apology short when you recognized the person’s reflection staring at you in the mirror.

“Becky, hi,” you said, surprised.

The girl greeted you back, the sound of your name imperceptible amid the party people shouting in the hallway. Now, you were reasonably drunk and very uncomfortable.

Becky was the last girl Steve had dated. They had been together for two years and seemed happy until Becky broke up with Steve overnight. Everyone assumed she’d probably met someone else, but you always felt like that was too simple and there was another more plausible explanation.

“You okay?” Becky asked you.

“Y – yeah, I just needed to cool off,” you mumbled.

You assumed Becky would urge you to clear off and leave her be, but instead, she stepped aside to give you some space in front of the sink.

You closed the door behind you and stood in front of the mirror, silently watching Becky perfect the mascara on her lashes. You quickly gathered she was dressed as Madonna in the Material Girl music video.

“It’s… been a while,” you said to break that awful silence. “What are you up to these days?”

“Small talk, huh? I thought we were way past that.”

You chuckled, ill at ease and too drunk to have a proper conversation. Out of all the girls Steve had dated, Becky was the one who unsettled you the most. You never knew what to expect of her.

“How’s Stevie?” Becky then asked before reapplying some lipstick.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was Becky's inquiry, but something turned your stomach. You always hated it when she called Steve that name. It reminded you of a jealous version of yourself you’d rather leave in the past.

“He’s good,” you said casually, no matter your inner turmoil. “You know. Same old, same old.”

Becky’s lips turned into the semblance of a smile.

“I take it you two still aren’t together.”

You felt your heart drop at that comment. What did she mean, “still”? And what was up with everyone and their insights regarding your relationship with Steve?

“It sounded a lot less petty in my head, I promise,” Becky said when you stayed silent.

“It’s not that,” you replied. “I’m just… surprised you would say that.”

Becky sighed and turned around to face you. It looked like she was about to get a lot of things off her chest, and you were not sober enough for that.

“You know why I broke up with Steve?” Becky asked you, and she obviously wasn’t waiting for an answer. “Why all the girls he dates eventually break things off with him?”

You blinked. You didn’t want Steve’s ex-girlfriend to share that information with you. You had absolutely no desire to detain such knowledge. Yet, you shook your head, permitting Becky to say what she really thought, too curious to pretend you didn’t care.

“Because it’s painfully obvious he’s in love with you and we’re just here passing time until he finally has the balls to tell you.”

In love. You had thought about it all with Steve – he thinks I’m pretty; he’s attracted to me; he likes me more than a friend. But never in your wildest dreams had you dared fantasize about these powerful little words.

He’s in love with you, Becky’s voice repeated like a broken record on a loop in your mind. Taunting, hopeful, too good to be true.

You found yourself sitting on the bathtub’s edge, both arms at your side, speechless. Becky leaned against the wall across from you and chuckled like she'd just shared the funniest story.

“Don’t tell me this is shocking news.”

“I…” you started without finishing your thought. You were at a loss for words and your head started spinning, the fateful sentence seeping into your mind faster than the liquor in your system.

“Look, obviously, it wasn’t my place to tell, but you know, despite everything, I always liked you,” Becky confessed. “You were always nice to me, even though I could tell it was not easy for you.”

You lowered your eyes, apologetic. It was true – you had always been nice to Becky. After all, it wasn’t the girl’s fault if you had feelings you’d never dare confess to your best friend.

“That’s why I’m telling you,” Becky resumed. “I’m trying to help you two out. This whole faint-hearted act was probably cute when you were sixteen, but you’re adults now. Are you waiting for him to get married and start a family with someone else to tell him how you feel?”

The mere thought made your heart ache. You didn’t want to picture Steve married to someone else. It made you nauseous.

“Sorry, that was harsh,” Becky apologized.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked her in a whisper, feeling like your head was about to explode. “Why are you telling this to me and not him?”

Becky stared at you like you’d just said the most nonsensical thing.

“Because he’s an idiot and a coward. If you’re waiting for him to make a move, you’ll wait a long time, honey.”

You spaced out for a moment, and when you returned to your senses, Becky was gone, leaving you alone with your spiraling thoughts in that bathroom.

Becky was right. Steve was an idiot and a coward. The inebriation clouded all your good judgments, so you got to your feet and walked out of the bathroom to look for Steve. After everything that happened tonight, you were confused, upset, and even angry.

You found him outside by the pool, joking around with some guys from his old swim team in high school. You marched to him, bold and determined, and he didn’t notice you right away, so you hooked your fingers to the fabric around his arm and dragged him behind you. You ignored the guys whistling at you both or Steve protesting and asking what had gotten into you until you walked into an empty room on the side of the villa and closed the patio door behind you.

“Okay, what the hell was that about??” Steve exclaimed, his voice loud in the quiet of the room, away from the party noises and the music. “Have you lost your shit??”

“You’re an idiot,” you told him in an accusing tone.

“Tell me about it,” Steve sassed you.

“And a coward!”

“Oh, so you have a whole list, huh?”

“That’s what Becky said.”

Steve looked at you in silence, processing what you just said.

“Of course, you talked to Becky….” he sighed. “Let me guess – she said I stole her INXS tape? She needs to let it go, she clearly lost it, she can’t keep blaming me for –“

“I don’t want you to get married, Steve,” you interrupted him, blurting out what you had been obsessing about for the last ten minutes.

Steve froze and looked at you like you were insane. And you might just be, you realized. You took a step back, dizzy and embarrassed.

“I… was not planning on getting married any time soon. Where is that coming from?” Steve asked you, stepping toward you.

You bit your tongue, holding from saying another stupidity you’d immediately regret. Suddenly, your choice to confront Steve and isolate yourselves in a bedroom didn’t look like the brilliant plan it seemed to be five minutes ago.

“Forget it, I’m drunk, and I don’t know what I’m saying,” you stammered, head low as you walked toward the door.

“Hey,” Steve brought you short by taking your hand before you had the chance to leave. His touch was tender, your hand fit perfectly in his, and you understood what Becky meant when she said "still not together".

“Talk to me,” Steve urged, lacing his fingers with yours. It was unbearable, how natural it felt. “You used to tell me everything, and now, I have no idea what’s up with you anymore.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, wishing you could go back in time and stop yourself from putting the two of you in this awful situation.

“Come on, kitten, we’re friends, you can tell me anything.”

Friends. You loathed the word that normally comforted you. You couldn’t stand to hear it.

He’s in love with you. How could he say you were friends when he was the one you called first when your car broke down, when he’d snuck out of college to comfort you after you got dumped by your ex-boyfriend, when he drove you across the country to see your sick grandfather for the last time? How did he have the audacity to minimize what you meant to each other after taking such a significant place in your heart for years and years?

“We’re not friends,” you mumbled.

You looked at him and thought you could see heartbreak in his eyes. You’d hurt him. You’d hurt him badly.

“We’re not?” he asked, his voice breaking in the inflection.

You held your breath as Steve questioned you with glistening eyes. He didn’t understand what you were trying to tell him, and it was killing you.

“You know what I mean,” you breathed out, unable to say the actual words.

He’s in love with you. It was so simple. Why couldn’t he just admit it?

You’re in love with him too, why can’t you say it?  you admitted to yourself.

Because no, it wasn’t that simple. Steve wasn’t the only coward in this situation. After all these years, it was so scary to admit, even more to say out loud. How could you expect him to say it when you were terrified of doing it yourself?

Eventually, Steve let go of your hand, an almost insignificant gesture that shattered your heart into a million pieces.

“Actually… No. I don’t know what you mean,” he said, defeated, before leaving the room.

You did it. You ruined everything, you thought as you sat on the floor and cried your heartbreak away.

🎁🎁🎁

It was supposed to be the merriest day of the year, with children's laughter filling the air and countless presents to unwrap. Yet, your heart was not in it, and you had to hold back tears during dinner that night at your parents’ house.

You hadn’t talked to or heard from Steve in almost two months, and it was officially the longest you’d spent without seeing each other. The thought was excruciating. He was your best friend in the entire world, you were head over heels in love with him, and the absence of him was like gasping for air on the verge of drowning.

But today was a merry day. Today was all about spending time together, eating a nice homemade meal, and reuniting. So, you played the part – you ate dinner, played board games with your cousins, and chatted with your uncles and aunts. You did what you were expected to do, and nothing more.

When you returned to your place, to your sad and lonely apartment, you sat down on the floor, still in your red party dress, back to your couch with a glass of wine, and flipped through a photo album Nancy and Jonathan had given you for your twenty-fifth birthday.

It was a recollection of happy times Jonathan had captured with his camera throughout the years – from graduating high school to renting your first crappy apartment, taking your first trip to New York with the group, and celebrating various occasions with them.

You took the last photo from the album, holding it between your fingers to get a closer look. It was a picture of you and Steve on New Year’s Eve the year before. You were posing for the camera, smiling from ear to ear. You were looking at the lens, but Steve only had eyes for you, holding you in his arms with rosy cheeks. When you looked at it like that, in retrospect and from another’s perspective, it seemed so evident that the guy in the picture loved the girl posing next to him.

You were fully crying now, blurry eyes and stuffy nose in contradiction with the holiday spirit. You were about to put the picture away in the album when something in the back of it caught your eye.

There was a note in the handwriting you would recognize anywhere at any given time – Steve’s. Your heart skipped a beat. It had gone unnoticed the first time you’d looked through the album at your birthday party and none of your friends had mentioned a thing about it. You started to look at a handful of pictures to see if others had something hidden on the other side, but they were all blank. All except for one.

You took a deep breath, pondering. Maybe Nancy and Jonathan were unaware of it, but Steve not saying anything didn’t make sense. This note had been there, forgotten in an album gathering dust in your bookcase, for months, and it could’ve gone on for years had you not felt nostalgic on that specific day.

You wondered if you should read it or pretend you’d never seen it. It was only a few words; they were probably some meaningless inside jokes or more personal birthday wishes. But they could also be something more, much more.

You knew you couldn’t live with the uncertainty, so you gathered your courage and read.

Happy birthday, kitten! Don’t know if you’ll ever see this, but I want you to know you’re my favorite person in the entire world, and I love you. Yours always, Steve PS: stop being a sourpuss just ‘cause you turned 25

It had been there. Right there, under your nose, all along. Yours always.

Before you could think it through, your coat was around your shoulders and you were behind the wheel, ready to drive to Steve’s place and tell him how you felt. Screw the stability and the uncertainty – you loved the boy too and you needed to tell him tonight.

It was past midnight, the air was cold and the streetlights reflected in the puddles on the pavement as you drove a little too fast toward Steve’s building. Your heart was racing in your chest, anticipation mingling with excitement while you rehearsed what you’d say in your head.

You were going to confess your true feelings to Steve. Nothing could scare you anymore.

Except, perhaps, the ominous sputtering sound your car made when you tried to restart at a traffic light.

“No, no, no, no, no, come on, not now!!” you begged desperately.

The ignition wouldn’t turn over, and you could’ve screamed at the sky. Was it some sort of cosmic sign preventing you from making the biggest mistake of your life?

You got out of the car to check the engine under the hood. When you opened it, it did something it’d never done before – it gave off fumes.

You coughed violently as you stepped away from the car, looking all around you and realizing you were alone on the street in the middle of the night with a kaput car and wasted opportunities.

“This is a nightmare,” you told yourself out loud. “This can’t be happening to me.”

Your eyes burned as you were about to cry again, disheartened and pathetic. Then, some headlights on the other side of the road caught your attention.

A maroon car stopped next to you and turned the ignition off. You held your breath, recognizing the vehicle instantly and wondering if the universe wouldn’t happen to be messing with you.

The driver exited the car and eyed yours up and down before chuckling.

“I had a feeling Gina wouldn’t make it through the year,” he said.

You laughed, the sound choked up in your throat at the improbability of the situation. You couldn’t believe Steve was there, rescuing you even without meaning to, always being there when you needed him to, the constant one in your life. As luck would have it, you thought.

“What are you doing here this late at night?” you asked him.

“Could ask you the same thing,” he remarked with a smile.

You returned his smile, nervously fixing your hair. The wind was rising, and the air was filled with change and expectations.

“I was… on my way to your place, actually,” you explained, somehow shyly. “I wanted to talk to you.”

A few seconds passed until Steve spoke again like he was processing the information. “That’s funny, I was on my way to your place too.”

You swallowed, unable to stop hoping. “You were?”

“Yeah… Of course, I was,” Steve shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep, and I realized I never got a chance to give you your present because we weren't speaking to each other, so… Anyways, I can just give it to you now.”

“We’re literally in the middle of the road, Steve.”

He looked around at the empty and silent street for good measure. “Yeah, and it’s not like it’s rush hour right now, I think we’re good.”

You opened your mouth to retort but opted against saying anything else. It was your first interaction with him in weeks, it was out of the question to ruin it just to have the last word.

The young man got something from the backseat of his car and immediately handed it to you. You took it carefully, turning it over in your hand to try and figure out what was beneath the wrapping paper.

“I… don’t have your gift,” you admitted, crestfallen. “I mean, I did get you something, but I didn’t think to give it to you tonight.”

“It’s okay, kitten. Just open it.”

You complied, slowly unwrapping the paper with trembling fingers and shortness of breath as Steve observed quietly.

You were now looking at a book’s front cover, and it might’ve seemed unremarkable at first glance, but it was not some common paperback.

“First limited edition,” Steve explained, even though you already knew. “You talked about it at Eddie’s place a couple of months ago, that it was almost impossible to find today, and you’d love to have it. So, I went to every bookstore in town to ask if they knew where to get it, and one of them gave me their counterpart's number from England, they had to send it all the way here but… Yeah,” Steve concluded, face red and hands in his pocket. “I found it.”

You looked up from the book to lock eyes with Steve. He seemed expectant and abashed, almost anxious of your reaction.

“You went to all this trouble for me?” you asked in disbelief.

He pursed his lips and nodded as if it was that obvious.

“You’re well worth the trouble.”

All this time, you had expected blatant signs, big gestures, and declarations, when Steve had been telling you how he felt in his own way for years. It had always been there – in fleeting touches, longing stares, and understated actions.

“I read it,” you eventually confessed.

"The book?" Steve asked, puzzled.

“No," you laughed. "The note you wrote in my photo album. I read it tonight.”

You noticed the way Steve held his breath at that revelation. Suddenly, you no longer cared that you were standing in the middle of the road with your dead car by your side. Suddenly, all that mattered was the pretty boy standing before you and what you felt for him.

“It was corny, right?” Steve said with a nervous laugh. “I know you don’t like it when it’s corny but –“

“Can’t you just be serious for one minute, Harrington?” you cut him short with an amused eye roll. “I’m trying to tell you how I feel here.”

“I know,” Steve breathed out. “I’ve been trying to tell you how I feel for months now, but I never find the right words.”

In the elation of the moment, your words got a mind of their own, and you heard yourself saying: “Show me, then.”

Friends. A designation you held onto for the past eight years, a status that put things into perspective whenever Steve introduced a new girlfriend to the group, a word that freed you of your guilt when getting into relationships yourself, a term that helped you when you would yearn for something more, something you thought to be unrealistic and unreachable.

That word no longer held any power over you now that you were in Steve Harrington’s arms and he leaned in to seal his lips with yours into a long-awaited and overdue kiss, the promise of a cherished and beautiful future.

You'd envisioned the scene time and time again in your mind, but none of the imaginary scenarios your fantasies created could measure up to that kiss. It was sweet, yet demanding, like you were the air he needed to breathe. He kissed you like he loved - sincerely, tenderly, and intensely. You smiled against his mouth, and your heart melted when he did it too.

When you parted from him, lips swollen and eyelashes fluttering, you felt like everything was finally right and mourned the time you wasted being scared of changes.

“So… What now?” you whispered, getting a strand of hair out of Steve’s face to look at him better.

The boy held your gaze, enamored and enraptured like you’d never seen him before. You enjoyed it while it lasted because it was a momentary bliss until reality caught up.

“Well, first, we’re going to call a tow truck," Steve said as he entwined his fingers with yours. "And then, you’ll bid farewell to Gina,” he nodded toward the car.

Your heart tightened in your chest. You’d almost forgotten about your car. It was truly ironic, how you needed to say goodbye to your oldest partner while embracing a new beginning with your best friend.

“Can it wait until tomorrow?” you asked while batting your lashes at him.

“Hey, just because we’re going to make out a lot from now on doesn’t mean you get to do that,” Steve jokingly scolded you while gesturing at your face.

“Do what?” you asked, coy and amused.

Steve laughed and put his arm around your shoulders. “Come on, kitten, I’m taking you home.”

At first, it didn’t feel like much had changed between you and Steve. You were still teasing each other, spending time with the group before Nancy and Jonathan’s departure, and arguing about what car you should buy now that Gina was in a junkyard.

But things had changed for the better, and you realized it on New Year’s Eve when Steve kissed you at midnight, as he would for many new years to come.

❤️❤️❤️

[calypsocolada]

how they kissed you for the first time... ft. soshiro, gen, & kafka

authors note: kaiju no. 8 is addictive. i bought the first manga then proceeded to buy the next nine. i'm obsessed with these three <3

cw: light violence

wc: 2.8k

click here for my masterlist

“Burning the midnight oil?” A familiar voice asked. You practically jumped out of your skin as you spun around in your wooden chair. Vice Captain Hoshina was comfortably leaning against the door to the library, eyes amusedly taking you in. 

“Vice Captain!” You gasped, holding a hand over your heart as you quickly gathered up your things. “I-- I apologize, sir.” Hoshina chuckled playfully, pushing off the door as he approached your table.

“No need to apologize, cadet. But you do know sleeping is a part of the job too.”

“I know. I’m just… not tired. Thought I would study a bit.” You responded as Hoshina snickered slightly. He ruffled your hair.

“This late? You’re a real overachiever aren’t you?” He teases as you fix your hair, blushing slightly.

“I just like to be prepared, that's all.” You huffed slightly as Hoshina leaned against the desk beside you, he looked down at you.

“You say you’re not tired but look moments away from falling asleep.” He points out.

“Well… maybe it is getting a little late.” 

Hoshina chuckled again, that same smug look on his face. He nodded, a small hint of concern in his expression. “Yeah, it is. And you should be in bed like everyone else. Besides-”

He stood up straight and pushed himself off the desk, crossing his arms and towering over you for a moment. He returned to his playful smirk and spoke. “-We have drills tomorrow and I can’t have you falling asleep during it, can I?”

No, sir.” You responded, turning and hiding the blush on your face. He chuckled softly and gave you a smug smirk, he was an observant person so of course he saw your blush before you could hide it. 

“Don’t act so embarrassed, I’m just looking out for you.” He chuckled again and that damn smirk grew slightly.

“I’m going, sir.” You answered quickly, loading yourself with books. Hoshina watched you amused until you dropped one. He caught it with ease, cocking his head.

“Do you really need all of these?” He asked as you pouted slightly. 

“I only have the hold on these books for two more days.” You said as he sighed softly, reaching and grabbing over half of what you were holding. 

“Lead the way.” He said as you nodded your head, walking out of the library and down the dark halls of the agency. Your room was a short walk and when you arrived you quickly unlocked the door and Hoshina followed you in, placing your books on your desk.

“Thank you, sir.”

“It’s just us, you can call me Soshiro.” Hoshina said over his shoulder. You froze, staring at his back as he straightened, his eyes taking in your private quarters. You jumped when your door fell shut behind you and when you turned back Hoshina was looking at you. A smug and satisfied look on his devilishly handsome features. “Go on, I give you permission.” Your mouth goes dry, your lips parting but no sound comes out. He laughs then. He knew the effect he had on you, knew exactly the kind of attack he just dolled out on your nervous system. Hoshina, up to this point, had been nothing but mostly professional around you. The only thing unprofessional before was his constant joking but other than that he had been an angel. Kind of. But you on the other hand fell fast and hard. It was embarrassing and something you would try very hard to take to your grave. “Did I make you nervous?”

“What-- n-no. It’s just-- I’m tired, that's all.” You covered, albeit sloppily. Hoshina raised his head slightly, a brow quirking up.

“Well… I wouldn’t want to keep you from sleeping.” He says, there was a glimmer of something in his eyes as he walked towards you, you moved out of the way of the door and gave him a terse smile. He looked down at you. “You’re actually going to sleep, right? You won’t read those books once I leave?” He jests as you nod your head. 

“I’m going to sleep.” You affirm shakily. He was standing so close. You could move your hand a few inches and you’d be touching him. You could take one step and meet his lips with ease. You looked away quickly at that thought. Ashamed of where your mind could take you. 

“Good night.” He says softly, hand reaching for the door. You’re not entirely sure what came over you but he was so close. Just right there. And walked you back to your room, carrying your things, talked to you like that and you were so weak already for him. You kissed him. It was probably the quickest kiss known to man. You had just gently pressed your lips against his in a quick peck and pulled back faster than you’d ever pulled back. Your face was beat red.

“M-my apologies, sir.” You said, turning and moving away but he caught your wrist. 

“You call that a kiss, Cadet?” He asked and when your wide eyes met his he pulled you back to him and lowered his lips to yours.

-

Your breath caught in your throat as you stopped mid walk into the doorway of your boss’s office. To call it a disaster would be an understatement. For the past week you’d been on a much needed vacation. 

“Y/n?” A voice exclaimed, surprised to your right. You almost dropped your tray of tea. 

“Mr. Narumi, you startled me!” You gasped, turning.

“You’re back a day early?”

“Mr. Hasegawa asked me to.” You said, walking carefully over the discarded boxes of yamazon orders to place the tea on his desk. Gen’s jaw tightened.

“He did, did he?” He asks as you nod your head.

“Yes, sir. Would you like me to clean up your office a bit-”

“No. No, I will take care of it. You should be home, enjoying your last day of vacation.”

“It’s alright, sir,” You reach and grab a trash bag but Gen reaches out, hand gracing yours to grab it away from you. 

“I wanted,” He sighs. “I wanted to clean this place before you got back.” He mumbled, cheeks red in embarrassment. 

“I really don’t mind, Mr. Narumi, it’s my job to help you out.” You say and Gen shakes his head. 

“This is my mess, you can go home early.”

“I just got here, sir.”

“And I’m giving you the rest of the day off, as well as tomorrow. Both paid of course.” He says, crossing his arms. You stare at him for a moment, parting your lips but Gen just shakes his head. “Go on, enjoy it.” He says, turning to start cleaning up his own mess. 

“Alright, thank you sir.” You say, leaving the tray behind as you make your way towards the door, glancing back to see Gen dutifully shoving things into a trash bag. 

An hour later you knock on his door and when he opens the door you hold up take out from his favorite restaurant.

“Before you try and send me home I thought we could have lunch together.” You say and his eyes sharpen before he inevitably steps to the side and lets you in. His office is much cleaner and this time you walk with ease to his desk, he follows behind and grabs two drinks out of a fridge as you pull out the food. “It looks nice in here.”

“Can you pretend you didn’t see the mess this morning?” He asks as you smile.

“What mess?” You ask and watch his face relax as he grabs and drags his chair to sit beside you. 

“I… wanted you to come back unstressed from your vacation but Eiji just had to ruin that.” He says, taking a drink before popping open the container of his food.

“I’m not stressed.” You say, popping open your own container as you feel Gen’s eyes on you.

“Would you like the rest of the week off too? Paid of course.”

“No!” You laugh, shaking your head. “Seriously, sir, I feel fine. It was a good vacation, I feel rested and relaxed. Ready to work.” You say, taking a bite of your food. 

“Are you sure?” He asks as you finally meet his eyes, he looks so worried for you. You furrowed your brow.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, he looks back at his food. 

“You deserve better than to be my assistant.” He says and you pout slightly, tilting your head.

“What? I like being your assistant, sir.” You say as Gen sort of sighs, it was clear something heavy was weighing on him. You should’ve known he was acting strange from the first moment you talked with him.

“I don’t want you to be.” He finally says. You stare at him, shocked and slightly hurt. 

“Oh.” You say, the bite of food you were about to eat paused. “I… I apologize. Did I do something to upset you?” Gen’s eyes fly up to yours.

“What! N-no of course not, Y/n.” 

“I can speak with Mr. Hasegawa and have him transfer me to-”

“That’s not… I didn’t mean it like that.” Gen says, rubbing his forehead in a stressed sort of way.

“What way did you mean it, sir?” You ask. Gen looks down at his food, he then inhales deeply and turns towards you. You hadn’t noticed how close you two were sitting until right now. He was so close, his eyes soft on yours until they dipped low to your lips then snapped back up. Your stomach flipped at that little action. 

“I want… more.” He says and your lips part in surprise. 

“More?”

“More.” He affirms. “May I… kiss you?”

“Kiss?” You echo, eyes sort of wide. He reaches over and tucks your hair out of your face. 

“Yes. May I?” You can’t wipe the shocked expression off your face. Your lips barely form the word yes and he’s leaning in, hand sliding across your cheek to pull you to meet his lips impatiently. He wanted it and needed it.

-

You breathed heavily, staggering to the side, hand placed on debris to keep yourself standing. You were sure you were dead. The jaws of a kaiju opened up to swallow you whole but suddenly you were on the ground, dizzy and unaware of how you got there. But then you saw it. The infamous Kaiju no. 8. You watched as it killed the kaiju that had you in its clutches moments ago. You staggered back when the kaiju turned to face you, fear jolting through you as you fumbled over debris to get away. 

“Y/n! Be careful, you're injured!” The kaiju said as it ran over to you. You screamed, you didn’t know those things could talk! You scrambled to your feet, rushing and dizzily falling as you tried to get to the gun you’d dropped in your fight with the last kaiju. Strong hands gently grabbed you and when you turned you were face to face with kaiju no. 8. You screamed and threw a punch, connecting with its jaw but the creature just stared at you, seemingly hurt until its eyes connected with something behind you. “Oh… shit.” The creature grunted as you stared at it, shell shocked. It’s voice… somehow familiar. Your legs felt like jelly beneath you, the kaiju still had a tight hold on you as you glanced back. The creature was looking at its reflection? There was only so much strangeness you could take as your body practically shut down, the adrenaline that was fueling you moments ago drained out as your legs gave out and you fell backwards into the Kaiju’s arms. “Y/n! S-shit… we have to get you to the infirmary!” The kaiju expressed and in that moment, seconds before you lost consciousness one name left your lips.

“Kafka?” You breathed out completely dumbfounded.

When you woke up it was light, almost a blinding white. You blinked a few times, groggily yawning as you carefully sat up, your entire body ached as you gently stretched out your muscles.

“You’re awake!” A voice to your right exclaimed in a breathy whisper. You turned and there was Kafka, he dropped his coffee and dive bombed towards you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight bear hug. You grunted in surprise as he held you tightly, as if he was keeping you grounded from floating away and never being seen again. Your mind was still a bit foggy on things as you gently pushed Kafka back.

“How long was I out?”

“Days… at least two or three.” He answers, his face clearly worried. It was also clear he hadn’t slept, dark circles had formed beneath his eyes. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine… a bit sore.” You answered as he sat on the side of your hospital bed and sighed out in relief. 

“I was worried.” He said, forcing a small smile on his face. He was still worried as you winced slightly, pushing down your blanket and inspecting the bandage across your midsection. His eyes followed your movements and when you looked up at him he had this intensely worried look on his face. 

“I’m fine, Kafka.” You implored as his eyes snapped up to yours. He nodded his head and swallowed. 

“Do you… remember anything? Anything at all?” He asks. You blink a few times, pursing your lips.

“I remember you… being there? Did you save me?” You ask, trying hard to recall what exactly had happened. You retraced your steps as Kafka fumbled through his words.

“I--- yes-- I was… there… technically.” You remembered a kaiju swiping at you, you lost your gun in the scuffle. You recalled it grabbing you up and tossing you towards its open mouth but you never landed in there but rather on your feet on the concrete. You blinked a few times as things started to piece together. 

“I saw… kaiju no. 8.” You said and watched Kafka’s face go pale white. “It…” you trailed off when you remembered its voice, remembering it grab you as you passed out. Remember saying a name. “You…” Your eyes snapped to Kafka’s. He looked stricken, scared and caught all at once. “Kafka… you… you’re-”

“Yes.” Kafka breathes out quickly. Like he’d been dying to tell you. “Yes… that was me.. I’m-”

“A kaiju.” You finished his sentence unblinking. You swallowed as Kafka’s lip trembled and he gave you a curt nod of the head. He looked embarrassed and guilty. 

“I’m a monster… I wanted-- I wanted to wait until you woke up to- to turn myself in because I wanted… no I needed to know you were going to be okay. I needed to tell you that I-”

“Kafka,” You interrupted, shocked by this revelation. He looked at you with a pained expression. 

“I promise I’ll turn myself in I just need to tell you that-”

“No!” You jerked up, wincing in pain.

“C-careful!” Kafka admonished, you reached for him, barely grabbing his shirt.

“Don’t turn yourself in. I-- I don’t want you to.” You stuttered painfully. Kafka’s lips parted wordlessly. 

“What? I was sure you would want me to…”

“That’s the last thing I want.” You said, trying to wrap your head around this all. You tighten the hold on his shirt and look at him. “They would… kill you and turn you into a weapon, Kafka.” You say as Kafka looks down, nodding his head.

“I know that.”

“And you think I would want that for you?” You hissed as his eyes snap back up to yours, a shocked expression on his face.

“You… hate kaiju.”

“I don’t hate you. No matter what you are.” You said, yanking his shirt towards you as you wrapped him in a tight hug. “Don’t you dare turn yourself in.” You warned, he was stiff in your arms for only a few seconds before he completely melted, the fear and anxiety of you possibly hating him kept him up for days. He wrapped you in a hug and you felt him breathe out and relax, hands sliding across your back, gently gripping your shirt as he held onto you. You could tell then that he’d really expected a different outcome. He’d expected you to tell him to turn himself in. When you pulled back to say something his mouth pressed against yours, stopping your words and your thoughts. His arms were still around you as he kissed you tentatively.

[slytherinshua]

ᶻz　JUST FOR A WEEK　( 최수빈 )

      in which . . . your ex boyfriend helps you sleep just for a week. genre fluff , exes to ? , one bed trope , some itzy member cameos , soobin x fem!reader   cw exes sharing a bed obv , reader not over soobin at all (but he isn't over reader either) , this is just cute and fluffy , not proofread wc 881   request @soobchwe   note slytherinshua txt fic era plsplsplspls   net @kstrucknet @moadiarynet

Maybe your genius idea to not tell your friends that you had broken up with Soobin hadn’t been as genius as you thought. The original thought was to give yourself enough time to process the change before sharing. But now, swept away on an impromptu summer vacation, of which the beach cabin Yeji booked only had 3 bedrooms, you realized just how truly stupid that idea two months ago had been. Because of your failure to communicate your new relationship status, you and Soobin were expected to share a room. With only 1 bed. 

It couldn’t be that bad, right? You were still friendly with Soobin. Sure, there was a little bit of awkwardness in the air between you two every time you talked, but it wasn’t like you hated him. He was still the same kind, considerate, and loving man he always had been while you dated. He hadn’t changed, still treating you as gently as ever. 

It was especially clear that Soobin didn’t want to overstep your boundaries, knowing the scars from the breakup were still quite present. However amicable and “healthy” the breakup had been, you were still struggling to figure out your emotions after the fact. A part of you felt like it would’ve been easier to move on if you and Soobin hadn’t fit so well together. From hobbies, interests, likes, dislikes, food preferences, opinions— you matched up with him on almost everything. 

Everyone was able to see it. Yeonjun, Ryujin, Lia, and Beomgyu all agreed that you were a match made in heaven. Maybe your hesitance to tell them of your breakup had been for fear of shattering their excitement for you and Soobin. You knew they would ask why you broke up, and you weren’t ready to discuss the details. 

The past few weeks had been filled with a battle, trying to stop missing him as much as you did. Reminding yourself that the breakup was your choice, a chance to focus on yourself and get into a better mental headspace. You’d made significant progress. At least, you thought you had. Being around each other for even just one day on this vacation put you back at square one immediately. 

And now, rolling your suitcase into the bedroom you were expected to share with the man, a weight only settled in your chest, wondering how the hell you were supposed to survive a week in his presence. He came up behind you, backpack slung over one shoulder.

“Ah… You didn’t tell them, did you?” Soobin’s voice was smooth, posing the question to you in a relaxed manner. You shook your head.

“Did you?” 

“No. You didn’t seem ready.” 

Even the simple observation had your heart cracking slightly in your chest. You missed how easily he could read you, how he truly understood how you felt better than anyone. You missed him. 

“Should I room with Yeonjun and Beomgyu? I really don’t mind,” he offered immediately, seeing the apprehensive look on your face. 

You sighed. “No. They’ll catch on if you do that. It’s really fine. Just don’t cross onto my side of the bed, okay?” 

“Okay.”

You couldn’t fall asleep. You could barely even think with Soobin right there. He was facing away from you, head buried in his pillow, quietly breathing. From what you could tell, he wasn’t asleep yet. Yet he seemed so comfortable and calm that you were almost fooled by it. He had been so relaxed and unaffected by everything the whole day; your presence, sharing a room, sharing a bed. Every hurdle that seemed to knock you over bypassed Soobin with ease. You wondered if he was faking it like you or if he had truly moved on from you completely in just three weeks. Maybe you were the only one lingering onto feelings from the past in his presence. 

He shifted, turning over to face you and you froze. You didn’t remember when you had turned to stare at his back, but now that you were staring straight into his eyes, you wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. Exes definitely shouldn’t be this hung up, right?

“I can’t sleep when you’re staring at me like that,” he whispered.

“I can’t sleep with you that far away from me.” 

Fuck. 

“I-I meant that close to me. I can’t sleep when you’re that close,” you reiterated, silently begging that your awful coverup would work. You could barely make out him raising an eyebrow in the dark. 

“Are you sure? You always slept better in my arms.” 

He wasn’t lying. In fact, your sleep had been one of the things that had suffered post-breakup. It was hard to fall asleep and even harder to stay asleep with Soobin gone and your bed feeling so noticeably cold every night. 

His warm hand reached for your wrist, hesitantly grabbing it, giving you time to push him away. You didn’t. Instead, you let him pull you closer, until your head rested on his chest, the sound of his steadily beating heart faint in your ears.

“I’ll help you sleep soundly,” he mumbled. 

You held onto him tighter, feeling drowsy for the first time surrounded by his body warmth and comforting scent. Maybe you’d let him help you sleep. Just for a week. 

txt taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @90steele,, @ddeonudepressions,, @cham3li,,

@wolfmoonmusic,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,,

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[gold-dustwomxn]

mystified

summary: after sudden attacks on women around town, you take a self defense class. ellie, your long standing crush is the instructor

fair warning, future chapters will include discussions of abuse and other heavy topics. each part will contain its own warnings please read them! eventual smut

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

cw: small interaction with a scary man, smoking weed

fluff fluff and more fluff, a little angst. protective ellie makes an appearance

inhale, exhale. grunts and bodies slamming against gym mats could be heard outside the big double doors of ‘miller’s defense studio.’ news of women being attacked at night had been circulating quite loudly in your sleepy town. dad says you should attend the free session, be able to defend yourself if anything happens. only problem was half the town was in here and you fucking hated being around large groups of people. you had your pepper spray keychain on you at all times, did you really need to learn how to fight? yeah, probably.

one of the many annoying things about being in such a small town is knowing everyone. at least your best friend dina and her boyfriend jesse were here to soften the blow of all of this chaos.

sat on the sidelines, you observe everyone attempting to show off sloppy, embarrassing ‘defense’ moves. jesse spots you and obnoxiously yells your name across the gym. rolling your eyes, you make your way over to him and dina.

“hey, ___ you’re late and you’re not gonna like what I have to tell you,” he smiles nervously. darting your eyes from him to dina, you eye them warily, regretting coming here even more now. “well? spit it out jesse.”

“jesus ok. well since you’re so late, there’s no one else for you to pair up with-“ you cut him off, “oh? that’s fine I’ll just watch then.” him and dina look at each other before she looks at you cautiously. “well, the only other person who doesn’t have a partner is the instructor for today.” you squint your eyes towards the front of the room trying to make out who it is, and oh fuck no, it’s ellie. the girl you’ve had a crush on for quite some time.

“ha, no fucking way. you guys can just teach me later. I am not making a fool of myself in front of her and the whole fucking town. you know I hate being the center of attention and she’s gonna demonstrate on me to teach everyone!” you turn your body attempting to walk away.

dina grabs your forearms softly trying to chill you out with her witchy, calming demeanor. because seriously how is she able to do that with just her touch? “you’re gonna be fine, ___. just breathe. no one else knows what they’re doing either, that’s why we’re here. you’re not gonna look like a fool,” she nods at you slowly, “plus, jesse already told her you’d be her partner.” she gives you an apologetic smile.

“ugh. why can’t you be her partner jesse? she’s your best friend.” dina grabs jesse’s arm and nuzzles into his side with a gross, love drunk smile. “because, I wanna be with my man. sorry, babe but you can do this. you can shamelessly use this as an excuse to be close to her anyway” she wiggles her eyebrows.

“oh my god,” you scoff and roll your eyes, “you guys seriously suck.”

an ear piercing whistle startles you, nearly making you jump out of your skin, and the room goes quiet. “good morning everyone, I’m ellie. welcome to miller’s defense studio. today, I’m going to be teaching you guys basic self defense techniques. learning self defense is more than how to prevent an attacker from overpowering you, but also about keeping a clear and calm head in the face of danger and how to gain the upper hand..”

her introduction speech fades from your ears as you observe her confident demeanor. dressed only in a simple white wife-beater tank and sweatpants, she still stands tall with a commanding presence. her hair sits in a low bun at the back of her neck, tattoo on full display while her toned arms move animatedly as she speaks.

you blink a few times snapping out of it as dina taps your shoulder and looks at you. “what?” she nods her head at ellie who is looking at you, waiting for you to join her at the front. your eyes widen briefly, “oh fuck.” you mutter under your breath.

you quickly walk up to her in embarrassment and she smirks at you as if she knows something that you don’t. she puts her hand on your hip and leans to turn on the bluetooth speaker behind you. “hey ___” she whispers in your ear. goosebumps travel down your body. fuck, this is gonna be a long day.

after some basic blocking and hitting techniques, ellie decides to teach everyone how to throw an attacker over your shoulder. many cry of “what if they’re taller or heavier?” blah blah, doesn’t matter. next thing you know, ellie turns and steps away from you, grabs your arm, squatting and lifts your hips against her ass before pulling your arm forward, rolling you off her hips onto the floor, wind knocked out of you, hand now around your throat. you lay there stunned, out of breath as ellie’s face hovers close to yours. you take a small glance at her lips before looking up into her eyes and she smirks, also out of breath. fuck, you were caught.

with everyone now practicing the technique, she grabs your hand and pulls you up. “you okay? didn’t go too rough on you?” she places her hands on her hips and looks you up and down so quickly that you could’ve easily missed it if you weren’t paying close attention.

you laugh “no, no, I’m fine. that was pretty crazy. when did you learn how to do all of this shit? I mean, I knew joel had this place obviously but I didn’t know you were involved in it.”

“hm.. well, when joel adopted me I had some.. anger issues, getting into fights all the time. he eventually gave up on trying to ‘change my ways’ and decided to train me how to fight properly so I wouldn’t hurt myself.. tricked me into taking out my aggression elsewhere, so I guess he ended up changing me anyway..” she chuckles “but, yeah I don’t teach or join in on the classes, I do it on my own time. joel’s been booked up so he convinced me to do this for him.” she scratches the back of her neck sheepishly and blushes. you wonder if it’s because she told you something personal or it’s because it’s her first time teaching.

“well.. I wouldn’t have guessed this was your first time. you really know how to command a room. you’re a natural,” you smile at her shyly. “dunno know if I really feel prepared to come up against an attacker though, maybe you could teach me some more.” you mentally pat yourself on the back for your brave attempt at flirting.

she laughs, “oh yeah?” moving closer to you. you look at her briefly before looking away. “mhm!” is what you come up with. jesus christ. she laughs again and nods. “alright, I guess I can make an exception for you and give you some free lessons. I’m gonna go do the closing speech or whatever the fuck joel wanted me to do..” she looks somewhere behind you and her eyes widen. you follow her line of sight and see dina and jesse look away abruptly. okay, suspicious.

as everyone is packing up their belongings, you make your way over to jesse and dina. dina smirks at you, “so?”

“so what..?” you furrow your brows. “how’d it go up there?” before you can respond, ellie comes over and greets you guys. “ellie! ___ and jesse are coming over tonight, you wanna come smoke and chill?” she looks at you as she answers “yeah, sure” she shrugs and then looks over at dina and jesse, “just text me and let me know.”

as you walk to dina’s house, the cold bitter air of winter sends a chill down your spine. all of a sudden you hear a car pulling up next to you and a window rolling down. the sound of a man’s voice has your adrenaline pumping. walking away quickly, you put your phone to your ear and pretend that you’re talking to someone “hey! you think you can help me with some directions? my phone is dead and I’m lost.” your heart is racing and you click off the safety on your pepper spray. another car comes to a screeching halt behind you. a slam of a car door and quick footsteps has you looking back in fear.

ellie comes into your line of sight and puts you behind her, looking at the man with a challenging gaze “is there a fucking problem here?” you hear a flicking sound and look down, eyes widening when you see a switchblade in her hand. he skids off and she manages to take a picture of his plates, putting the switchblade in her back pocket before turning to you. she gently grabs your shoulders and looks at you in concern. “you okay? what happened?” she looks down at your hands and you hadn’t realized until now that you’re shaking. “c’mon.” she grabs your hand and leads you to her car, opening the passenger door for you.

“why are you walking around by yourself? jesus, ___ you could’ve been..” she looks away from you, cutting herself off and shakes her head, clenching her jaw. “I would’ve picked you up.” she starts the car, and pulls away from the curb.

“I know! fuck. dina lives so close I thought- yeah it wasn’t smart knowing what’s been happening.” she turns her head to look at you briefly, her gaze softening. “just text me or something next time okay? I don’t want you walking around by yourself, I’ll pick you up.” you nod and take a deep breath. “thanks for the save,” you laugh, trying to soften the mood. she, however does not laugh which makes you even more nervous. great, you think, I pissed her off. she glances at you, noticing your nervous fidgeting. she briefly squeezes your hand “it’s okay, I’m just glad you’re safe” she gives you a small smile. you feel butterflies in your stomach. the rollercoaster of emotions from fear to anxiety and now to the feelings ellie is giving you are a lot.

“I’m gonna stop back home to show joel the pics of the plates and tell him what happened so he can take it to the authorities or whatever. I don’t really wanna be the one talking to the cops. you want me to drop you off at dina’s first?” she glances at you. “no, it’s cool I’ll come with you.”

ellie’s house can be described as old and rustic. outdated wood paneling lining the walls, decor and photos that give it a country feel, the cozy smell and crackling sound of the lit fireplace flooding your senses.

joel greets you warmly. small town means he’s seen you grow up, being friendly with your parents. his demeanor is rough around the edges with a don’t fuck with me attitude, but also very polite and caring. you now realize how similar ellie is to him.

as ellie explains the fucked up situation which occurred minutes ago, your phone vibrates in your pocket.

dina🤍: dont kill me pls but I have to cancel tonight. my mom found out im failing stats and she’s on the fuckin warpath. ill make it up to u promise xx

me: fuccck i’m at ellies rn she saved me from some shit i’ll tell u ab it later but now i’m nervous help🥲 sorry ab ur mom i’ll pray for ur soul

you lock your phone and put it back in your pocket. the internal panic of now having to be alone with ellie settles deep in your gut.

ellie walks over to you “alright, joel said he’s gonna deal with it. you all set to go?”

“did dina text you? check your phone.”

you watch ellie’s eyes glide across her screen and it gives you a moment to ogle over how fucking attractive she is. her long lashes, sharp jawline and freckles more pronounced due to the soft glow from her phone emitting against the low lighting of the room. she looks up at you with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “uhh fuck, well, do you want me to take you home?.. or we can hang out here if you want.” she looks away from you.

“yeah, I’m down to hang” you smile at her. she gives a small smile back and blushes. alright, maybe she feels the same way I do. “okay cool, you wanna smoke and watch a movie?”

smoke hazes around ellie’s dim lit room and the movie in the background is long forgotten. you’re laughing so fucking hard with tears in your eyes, and you don’t know if it’s because you’re so high or if ellie is really that funny. “you really decked your foster sibling in the face because he borrowed your savage starlight comic ellie?” she scoffs and throws a pillow at you. “he did not borrow it.. he stole that shit and thought he could get away with it. can’t let people fuck around with you like that in the system. makes you an easy target” she takes another drag of the joint.

“uh-huh,” you grab the joint and take a hit “well, clearly these kids learned not to fuck with the big, bad aggressive ellie huh?” she laughs and rolls her eyes “oh my god, shut up, ___.”

ellie thinks about how she likes that you’re not taking pity on her for her fucked up childhood, and how it’s so easy to talk to you. it feels natural opening up to you, not being able to do that with other people, not even jesse. it makes her like you even more.

you groan as you try to peel your heavy, post high eyes open feeling warmth around you, inhaling a scent filled with clean laundry and a hint of woodsy cologne. you open your eyes and see a sleeping ellie, mouth slightly parted, breathing slowly. your eyes widen, realizing your head is on her chest and her arm is wrapped around you. you glance over at her clock that reads 3:54am. fuck, you don’t even remember falling asleep. you move slightly trying not to wake ellie to text your mom saying that you fell asleep at dina’s. ellie stirs and groans, pulling you closer to her. fuck it. you don’t know if this will ever happen again. you close your eyes and drift back to sleep.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Aemond is soon to be married to a political arrangement by their mother, so for his last unwed nameday, Aegon takes him to an elite brothel on the street of silk. He’s shy and doesn’t know what kind of woman he wants, so the owner of the brothel send him her most expensive girl to seduce him

A short little thing for Aemond (longer requests are coming, don't worry)

Warnings: 18+, prostitution,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Coming to the street of silk was Aegon’s idea. Unlike his brother, Aemond never visited brothels. They never appealed to him. He’d much rather sit in his chamber and read about the history of Valyria than bed a stranger for some gold coins. But Aegon insited that his brother needed to experience the ‘pleasure of fucking’ before he got wed to a highborn woman for the sake of politics. 

Aemond had never seen a more bustling place. The sounds of ambiance music, laughter and whispered promises filled the space, accompanied by lewd moans in some corners. Women were dancing and parading around scantily clothed as men were pawing at them. 

Holding back a grimace, the prince shifted his eye away from them. Despite his discomfort, he held no judgment for the people who made a living here. Not everyone was born in luxury.

Aegon nudged his brother forward. ‘’Pick the woman you want,’’ he urged as they entered.

Cloak still covering his head, Aemond gave him a quiet hum. 

They separated and ventured into the brothel. Women attempted to seduce him, attracted by his tall stature and youthful face, but Aemond politely rejected their advances, not interested.  

He spent a long time looking around, knowing Aegon would never let him leave the brothel without bedding a woman. 

Exploring further, Aemond followed a narrow hallway lined with makeshift rooms crafted from old sheets, offering a semblance of discretion in an otherwise open environment. The muffled sounds of pleasure emanating from behind closed curtains were more explicit, making the prince not want to take a peek. He wasn’t into voyeurism or exhibitionism. 

‘’Found anyone, brother?’’ Aegon asked after a few minutes, already having his own eyes on a few for himself. 

The taller prince shook his head. ‘’I have not…’’ 

Aegon pursed his lips, observing around them. There were women of every body type, age and hair color, why did Aemond have difficulty picking one? 

Then, it struck him. It wasn't a lack of options that troubled Aemond, but rather a mismatch of tastes. Perhaps he would prefer someone more elegant? Aegon searched for Maege, the owner of the brothel and asked if she had a higher priced woman for a special customer. The plump woman smiled, her eyes shifting to the white hair beneath his cloak. She nodded and Aegon handed her a few gold coins. It was much more than she was requesting, but he figured it would buy her silence too.

Maege showed the way to one of the private rooms of the brothel. They were expensive, therefore only used by exclusive customers. 

Aemond thanked Maege as she opened the curtain for him, and told him to get comfortable. The room was about the size of his bathing chamber and had a large canopy bed dressed in red sheets and cushions ornate of a gold trim. Aemong felt like he had been transported to a completely different brothel. Candles were lit on the cherry-wood tables, bringing light to the room. 

As he waited, echoes of other people's pleasure could be heard. Aemond tried to ignore them, telling himself that this will soon be over. 

After a few minutes of waiting, you pulled the curtain open slightly and slipped inside in silence. Maege had given you a couple of rules before she sent you to the private room. 1. Do not ask the customer any personal questions and keep the talking to a minimum. 2. Treat him with your best services. 3. Never mouth to others about his identity.

You assumed he was a Lord, a married man. Not the Prince Aemond.

You curtsied upon recognizing him, bowing your head before straightening up.  

Aemond glanced at you, his good eye surveying your figure from head to toe. Your hair cascaded down your back as if they hadn't been cut in years, rivaling with his own. Your body was covered by a long chiffon shift that didn't leave anything to the imagination. From the color of your nipples to the curve of your hips and even the slit between your legs. 

He inhaled a deep breath. A part of him wanted to dismiss you, or simply sit in silence for long enough to trick Aegon that he fucked you, but something about you was calling to him.  

‘’What do you want me to do, my Prince?’’ you asked, your peaked nipples poking against the thin, pale fabric. 

—

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[scudslut]

A New Years Surprise 🎀

daryl x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, poorly written smut, oral (fem-receiving), unprotected p in v, porn with some plot lol

a/n: i know i’m a little late but happy new years everyone!:) thought i’d start off on the right foot this year with some Daryl lovin<3 also don’t mind my writing i’m just getting back into it so i’m a bit rusty:/

“God, you’re such a dumbass,” you muttered to yourself, cringing at the reflection staring back at you.

Currently, you were a mess.

Tonight was Alexandria’s supposed ‘New Years Eve’ celebration, like we actually had anything to celebrate or look forward to.

There were always those few people you’d come across over the years, that had somehow managed to keep track of the time passed and as it turns out, Alexandria’s people were very serious when it came to sticking to the old worlds holidays and traditions.

Hell, they’d host parties and backyard shindigs on a regular bases, no prompt needed.

It was bizarre, and even after a full year living here, you still weren’t used to it.

Deep down, a small sliver of you agreed that it was something special about this place. That it somehow kept the hopeful humanity glimmering inside the residents. But the larger, much more sceptical side of you, couldn’t help but notice the flaws of the idea and the dangers of false hope.

Or maybe it was just because you looked fucking ridiculous trying to play dress up.

Either way, you hated the celebrations.

This one in particular though, caught you off guard.

You hadn’t payed much attention to New Years before the world ended, and just assumed that would be the same now; but when you caught wind of the party, you felt your stomach bubble in excitement.

And for one reason only.

Daryl.

You knew Daryl was an absolute sucker for dainty dresses and lingerie and you hadn’t ever gotten the chance to wear something like that for him. But a few days prior, you had stumbled across a small shopping mall on run and found this adorable matching light pink set and had to stuff it away in case the opportunity to surprise him presented itself.

Well, here it was.

And man was that excitement rapidly turning into a full blown panic attack.

Running your fingers through your hair haphazardly, you studied your appearance in the mirror.

You’d only so far put on the lingerie and a small black skirt and you already felt confined and self conscious. The straps weren’t sitting right, the cups of your bra were too big, causing weird awkward gaps.

Sighing, you close your eyes in defeat, resting your head in your hands.

This was just awful.

You could already hear the beginnings of the party going, music and laughter flowing in through your slightly cracked window and it only caused you to sink further into yourself.

You felt your mind slip into your self deprecating thoughts as you began to tune out the world around you, missing the soft creaks of footsteps on the wooden floored hallway.

The door of your shared room was wide open, as it was only the two of you that occupied the small house.

Daryl took you in for a moment, leaning against the doorframe observing your defeated aura silently.

He immediately knew what was bothering you, he could read you like a book at this point. He crept up behind you, gently touching your shoulder as to not frighten you from your thoughts.

Jumping slightly, your eyes flew open and landed on those deep familiar blue ones you adored, staring back at you through the mirror.

His natural scent caught your nose and your body subconsciously began to ease, slumping back into his chest.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you home so early,” you whisper to him as you notice his eyes drift down your body.

You wrap your arms around yourself, not wanting him to see your failed attempt at a surprise and be disappointed.

You should have known he’d be quicker than you.

“Not so fast, baby,” he says, catching your arms before they can fully shield your torso from him and twisted you around to face him.

“It’s nothing, really Daryl, I-I don’t even know what I was thinking,” you mumble feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

That’s when you notice the dark, lustful glimmer in his eyes and awed expression clear as day on his features.

Oh. He likes it.

Heat pooled in your stomach.

Daryl bunches the fabric of your dainty skirt in his hand contemplatively, drawing it up ever so slowly and tucking it into the waist band to keep you exposed.

You could feel his eyes wander your skin, like soft breathy kisses, from finger tips to the dip of your collar bones.

Your breathe catches as you feel the faintest pressure on your dripping cunt.

“This all fer me?” He whispers, slowly sliding his middle finger from the wet patch on your panties to the tiny pink bow at the hem.

He finger dips into the waist when he doesn’t hear your response, and snaps it back against your skin.

“Y-yes Dar,” you gasp.

Of course it was for him, you were his and he damn well knew that, but he simply couldn’t help himself from asking time to time.

He continued to toy with the bow thoughtfully, letting his finger tips graze over the sensitive skin there. Over your hip bones, stomach, and down to your inner thighs, never allowing too much pressure so it felt like soft tickles.

He enjoyed to watch you pant and writhe. Liked the way your skin would erupt in goosebumps every place he touched.

He was a hunter after all.

He could spend hours playing with every detail of you, work you up until you have tears welling in your eyes and your cunt was practically pulsing.

Though you’d beg and plead for him to stop, to give you what you need, he knew you loved it.

And so did he.

Daryl Dixon was a tease.

“Wanted to surprise you after the party,” you manage to squeak out and his gaze finally meets yours.

“Did ya now?” he mocks, walking you backwards till the back of your knees hit the bed and you take a seat at the edge. He looms over you, thumb grazing your bottom lip and you simply nod back at him.

“Well, ya can be certain there ain’t gonna be no party anymore,” he growls, staring you down like you had offended him somehow.

He harshly grips your hips, pulling them till your ass was practically hanging off the edge and drops down to his knees before you, spreading your legs to make room for himself.

All you can do is watch him, mouth parted open as he manhandles you however he pleases.

“And where did ya find somethin’ so pretty, hm?” he questions gruffly, once again rubbing his thumb over the wet patch forming on your panties.

You lean back on your arms, dropping your chin to watch his movements.

“I-uh, on a run the other day,” you huff, your words stuttering in excitement and anticipation.

Daryl only hums in response, as he dips his fingers and pulls them to the side, exposing you fully to him.

He barely gives you a second to register his actions before he’s dropping his head between your thighs, licking a long strip across your soaked cunt.

Your body jolts in surprised pleasure, your right hand flying to grip his soft brown locks as he laps at your clit.

Moaning loudly, your hips rock into him as he continues to lick and suck, lost in the taste of you.

“Oh god,” you whimper. Your arms are shaking behind you, ready to give out any second as you watch Daryl devour you like you were his last meal on earth.

He always looked so damn pretty, eyes closed and entrapped between your thighs.

He lifts his head, groaning at the sight of you and begins trailing kisses over your hips and down your inner thighs.

“Sweet girl,” he mumbles between kisses, “always thinkin’ bout me, huh?”

Your eyes roll back as you sink to your elbows, overwhelmed by the pleasure.

“Asked you a question, baby,” he nips at your skin causing a soft sting.

“Always Dar,” you pant, rolling your hips into him again. Your body was pulsing with lust and Daryl could sense how needy you were for him, like it had been weeks without his touch and honestly, it felt like that for him too.

He was about ready to cum in his jeans at the sight of you alone. Legs spread for him, pupils blown wide while you panted and moaned noisily just for him to hear.

Trailing his lips back up, he grips your waist stilling your movements, “What do ya need from me, hm?”

Your mind blanks for a moment, surprised by his uncharacteristic generosity. He was never this quick to give you what you need, always wanting to drag your pleasure for miles and miles until each pretty sound you could possibly make filled his ears.

“Come on now, or do you want me to decide for ya?” he asks again and you quickly shake your head, grabbing him by the shoulders and scooting back until you both were at the top of the bed.

As he lands above you, arms on each side of your head, you finally feel him and how hard he already was.

Rocking into him suggestively, “You know what I need,” you whisper.

Daryl groans from the friction, dropping his head to your shoulder and rutting into you further, chasing your movements.

You hadn’t seen him this worked up and responsive in a long time, and god were you loving it.

You pull his head up to face you and crash your lips onto his, hands finding his belt trying to discard him of it as fast as you possibly can. Daryl’s a panting mess above you, “Baby are you tryna kill me?” he groans when he feels your hands brush against his cock as you attempt to rid him of his jeans.

All you can do is whimper into his mouth as you struggle, and he kicks them down and off the bed.

He grabs you hands and pulls them above you, pinning them down as he begins to attack your neck with bites and kisses.

“Please Dar,” you whine, “need you now.”

“I know baby, I know,” he coos, attempting to soothe you as he draws your skirt and panties down your legs.

You begin tearing at his vest, needing to feel him closer to you, as close as he could possibly get. You feel him chuckle against you, “So eager for me, are ya?” as he lines himself up with your aching core, teasing you even more.

Taking him by surprise, you crush his hips into yours, filling yourself to the hilt all at once. You gasp from from the mixture of pain and pleasure, as Daryl all but whines into your mouth.

“Oh shit, fuck me,” he groans as he begins to slam into you at a bruising pace. You claw at his shoulders, rocking your hips to match his fast movements.

“Just love this cock, don’t ya?” he grunts, lifting one of your legs around his waist to drive into you even deeper.

You felt your brain cloud over, unable to think about anything other than him, drunker on his cock than you’d been from any night of drinking you’d partaken to in the past.

“Don’t go dumb on me now, darling. What did I ask ya?” he repeats, slowing his hips to sensual rolls, so it only stroked that cord in your stomach but kept it from building any further.

“God yes,” you moan, matching his slow but absolutely delicious pace.

Daryl is a groaning mess in your ears as your bodies dance a synchronized rhythm together, moulding into each other like pieces of a puzzle.

His hand snakes between you two, finding your clit easily and he begins to stroke you gently, allowing the fire in your abdomen to build rapidly.

“Oh Dar,” you moan and Daryl only picks up the pace, chasing after his own high to experience with you. Your clutching to him for dear life as he pounds into you quickly, grunting and groaning quiet praises about how good you feel.

You can tell he’s close when his hips start to stutter and shake, losing his rhythm slightly and you finally feel the cord break.

Your body floods with ecstasy, cunt pulsing around him causing his high to come crashing over him with you. Waves of pleasure wash over you as you both come down, his hips slowing to a stop.

He rests his forehead down to yours while the both of you struggle to catch your breath. You feel Daryl start to chuckle against you and your eyes lazily drift open, “What?” you mumble, running your fingers slowly down his back.

“Never was a big fan of surprises before, but ya can bet your ass I am now.”

[prodbymaui]

I Loved You (Dangerously)

drunk off that love, fuck my head up

PAIRING: lee jeno x reader

GENRE: infidelity

WORD COUNT: 1.8k+ words

WARNINGS: bulging kink, choking kink, strength kink (?)

SYNOPSIS: You're in a lovingly, domestic relationship with your boyfriend. Or so everyone thought.

A/N: first jeno fic, happy reading! please do leave your thoughts if you can! <3

Lively chatters, car honking, vendors selling. The sun has exchanged positions with the moon yet it is not the end of a day for the people of Myeongdong. The chilly breeze bites through your flesh, but you suppose you are to blame for not dawning a puffer jacket.

Steps quickening, your keys jingling in your hands as you head back to your apartment. Your phone pings and catches your attention, it displays an email from your co-worker but it's not what you looked at though. Eyes settling on the time, you glance where the picture of your lovely boyfriend smiling innocently and widely lies. A quarter after 8PM, he should be in his own apartment now.

Upon arriving, your doorknob twists easily, as though it wasn't locked. Did you forget to? You were certain you did before leaving. Carefully, you hold the door open, heart beating rapidly as fear creeps up on your spine. Am I about to die? Hopefully not. You have a lot of things on your bucket list and dying young isn't one of them.

The lights are on, and music fills the entire flat. That song is too familiar for you. Closing the door behind you, your eyes roam around, observing. Not even a minute and as if on cue, a man who wears the face of your boyfriend walks into your vision, seemingly fresh out of the shower. He then meets your eyes with no surprise.

''Great. You're home.''

You roll your eyes. Raking your eyes up and down on his body, heat burns your cheeks as you turn away, pursing your lips at the sight of water droplets dripping along his bare chest. You chuck your shoes off and head to the kitchen. ''Why are you here?''

You heard a scoff. Footsteps following your trace. ''Why not? I'm more comfortable here than at my own apartment.''

''Cut the chase, Jeno.'' You face him. ''What are you doing here?'' And when you only receive a grin from the man who's leaning on the wall, you sigh. ''Did you got fired again?''

''Ah.. you know me too well.''

Irritated, you shake your head and proceed to walk out of the kitchen but before you could, Jeno's already catching your wrist– preventing you from getting away. Tugging you closer, he offers a smile.

''Don't walk out on me now, babe.''

You click your tongue. ''Shut up.''

Chuckling, Jeno wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles his nose on the crook of your neck. ''So feisty.''

Jeno runs his palms on your side up and down as he plants sweet sweet pecks on the vastness of your neck. His kisses then eventually travels upwards where he connects your lips with his. What a lighthearted kiss turns into somewhat a desperate one, swiftly licking each other's lips before sucking on them.

''Fuck, I missed you–'' Grabbing the back of your thighs, Jeno carries you with ease as he transfers both of you to your bedroom, his body leading him despite the lack of vision. It's like telling him 'Worry no more about tripping, you've been here enough that I've memorized every single thing.'

Jeno is lying if he says it doesn't fuel the smugness in him.

He slowly settles you on the bed, hovering over you, gripping your hips as your legs circle his waist. Pushing his tongue in, Jeno licks every wall, every part that he can reach. A drool escapes the end of your lips as you share the messy kiss with Jeno, groaning when his boner rubs against your clothed core, putting pressure on your clit.

A string of saliva that connects your lips is the thing you see before your top gets taken off of you and your bra flies somewhere in the room, the only thing your mind could fully register is Jeno's tongue flicking over your nipple as he keeps his fingers entertained with the other. The air thickens, and suckles echoes in your bedroom.

Pleasure shoots up your spine as Jeno grinds, angle perfectly aligned for the head of his cock to nudge your clit. You whimper. ''Jeno, fuck...''

But Jeno's ears are shut the moment he takes your nubs in his mouth, eyes closed as he savors the delish before him. Tightening your legs, you move to press your core onto him harder, hands squeezing his biceps. ''Jeno, please..''

Jeno snaps out of his daze at the vulnerability. A music to his ears, his eyes darken, once again he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. You squeak, body jostling as your pants and underwear get ripped off of you, thrown carelessly.

His fingers trace the line between your pussy cheeks, dipping a little before bringing it to his mouth, licking your wetness– tasting you. Jeno moans, head cloudy. Jeno takes in the sight of you after opening his eyes that he doesn't even know had closed. 

''Please, Jeno..'' Breathing heavily, legs wide open for him, already looking so fucked out when he haven't even done anything yet. Jeno growls at the urge to eat you up, make you his.

Cupping one ankle, Jeno peppers kisses along your calves, eyes not leaving your figure. ''Tell me what you want. What exactly are you saying please to, baby?''

At this point, all your sanity had left you. Embarrassment? It was a thing of yesterday. Reaching up to Jeno, your next words snaps his patience. ''W-want your cock.. I want your cock in me.''

Smirking, Jeno pecks you again before going down on you, making out with your pussy as if it's your lips. His tongue wiggles, pulling out lewd moans from you, gripping the sheets in an attempt to prevent yourself from pulling his hair instead. Jeno flicks his tongue over your puffed clit.

''Fuck, Jeno–!''

A finger slides past your entrance, your walls engulfing the digit with warmth and velvetines. You're so fucking wet, there's little to no resistance. Another follows suit, Jeno scissors you properly all the while he enjoys himself in getting drunk from your essence and the music that is your explicit sounds.

Pulling his face away, his skin covered by your slick glistens under the bedroom lights. Jeno chuckles as your walls clamp around his fingers. He then curls them in an angle that prods at your spot sweetly, your back arches off the bed. Latching on your perky nipples, Jeno tugs his towel and gives himself pumps to tend his hard cock.

''Put it in..'' Jeno mumbles profanities seeing the desperation in your eyes as you stare at his angry leaking tip.

Before you could whine about the loss of his fingers in your, Jeno replaces it with his girthy cock, slipping inside as you moan in unison. Burying the rest of his cock, he presses your knees on your chest and starts a brutal pace that jostles your body to the headboard repeatedly.

''Jeno! F-fuck! So big.. it feels so good–!''

Jeno grips the top of the headboard as he madly drives his cock in and out of you, his eyes glinting with lust and something you couldn't decipher.

''When's the last time I had you like this?You're so fucking tight– you're suffocating my fucking cock. Look at that, baby. Look how your pussy stretches widely and sucks my cock inside. It feels good, huh?'' Jeno nudges your legs to a wide V, planting his foot on the bed as he gives it to you faster, harder, and deeper. 

Looking down, he notices a bump that continuously appears and disappears in sync with his thrusts, growling in realization that it's his fucking cock that cause the bump in your belly. Gripping your waist, Jeno slams your pliant body to meet the snap of his hips, your breast jiggles and Jeno will be damned if he resists the urge to feast on them. God, he's fucking crazy for them.

''Oooh shit! You're so big and so hard inside me– ah ah ah– fuck! More! More, please–''

Jeno hums against your ear. ''More? Does my girl want more?''

Drunk in pleasure, you nod absentmindedly, nails raking down Jeno's back, creating red lines all over his skin. He slams a couple more times before taking a pity on the headboard that hits the wall due to your vigorous fucking. Jeno groans, scooping you in his arms, and pins you to the wall before hammering his cock inside you. Biting the junction of your neck, Jeno laps the red beads that seeps past your skin. The graze of teeth on your skin itches in pain yet you crave for more.

Wet skin slapping bounce in the room, wanton moans escapes you as Jeno snaps his hips fiercely.

''Oh, god!''

''Yeah?'' Jeno licks your tears. ''You like that? You love getting stuffed full of my big, fat cock, huh?''

Pulling you away from the wall, your eyes roll to the back as Jeno's length digs deeper inside you, so deep that you could feel it at the back of your throat. You cling to Jeno, drools dribbling down your chin as carnal ecstasy takes over the entirety of your body and mind. ''I'm coming..''

Grabbing your ass, Jeno bounces you to meet his thrusts, parting your cheeks to slide even deeper. ''Come on my cock, baby.''

Strained moan leaves your lips as Jeno sucks the pathway of your drool, feeling himself get closer to climax as your walls clenches continuously around him, painting his cock white. Jeno pistons his hips violently, eyes shut close. And when your hand encloses on his neck and tightens just the way it sends him an irreversible euphoria, Jeno holds on to his strength as he shoots strings of white, filling you up to the brim.

Breathing heavily, Jeno brings you back to the bed, fetching the towel to wipe down your mess before laying beside you, hugging you from the back. His loving kiss on your shoulder is the last thing that registers in your mind before drifting to a slumber.

As Jeno combs his fingers through your hair, a smile unknowingly appears on his face. You look so beautiful like this. So peaceful. Sure, you can certainly protect yourself but it still makes him want to gatekeep you from the harsh world so that you're out of harm's reach. 

Though, Jeno knows it is impossible. The constant pings from your phone is a reminder.

JIHO: Hi, baby. I just got home! 

JIHO: Mom asked for help to look for Jeno because she received a call from his work telling to pay for the damages or sorts.

JIHO: Sooo sorry I didn't send you a text!

JIHO: Are you gonna sleep now?

But as long as you don't stop him from having you, Jeno supposes he can ignore the fact. 

The fact that you will never be his. And the fact that you're in this loving, domestic relationship with his twin brother.

[naylawritings]

HIIII!!! I saw the requesting process!

can I order

Matcha cupcake

kinder Bueno pancakes

watermelon slushie

Chai with milk

cherry green tea

Matcha latte

character -> oscar piastri

Thank you for the request! This is pretty mild for enemies to lovers, I hope you don't mind! There's also kind of a lot of background things, not just the smut, as I wanted to do a proper setting! Please feel free to let me know what you think!

cw: communication issues, 18+ content, rough sex (kinda), aftercare

Love, Nayla<3

You've known Oscar for a couple months now. You first met the driver at a casual party of a mutual friend. And for some reason, unlike everyone, you seemed unable to hold a civil conversation with him.

Maybe it was the way he looked completely uninterested, when you came up to him, to ask a simple question. Or how he was always calm, no matter the situation, no matter how you felt. You truly didn't know.

But the fact is, every chat, every even slightly pointed glance, the smallest interaction would ignite flames and fighting. And you didn't understand it. You didn't understand yourself and your feelings.

There you are, sipping a cola on ice, in a slight haze, as your eyes take in the stuffy room of a friend's apartment. The movement of the people dancing around seems slowed and a bit blurry.

You're not drunk at all, but rather detached. You've had a bloody awful day, after you had an argument with a family member. You wish to forget, to take your mind off things, to think about only the pleasant things.

It's honestly a perfect situation to get drunk and forget, yet you hold yourself back, knowing that this isn't the thing you should be doing. Moments like that always end up the same, with you barely able to walk, stumbling to your cold, empty apartment, having to clean your own puke the next morning, with a massive hangover.

The world around you seems to swirl, the seconds tangling together into minutes, as you sit alone, swirling the liquid in your glass. You exhale shakily, placing your heavy head on your hand. You close her eyes tiredly, before opening them and looking up, just in time to see him walking through the door.

You want to scoff seeing Oscar, his unnerving calm expression present on his face as always. His eyes meet yours, as if feeling your stare... Or were you glaring?

He raises an eyebrow at you, his face nonchalant as if in a challenge. You straighten up, pulling out of your haze, not willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you vulnerable.

Oscar almost rolls his eyes at your gesture, reading it correctly. His eyes soften slightly as he approaches you slowly. You don't take your eyes off him, having to look up more the closer he gets.

"Piastri." you say coldly, though your voice cracks slightly, indicating your slightly shaken state.

He observes you closely, his eyes narrowing knowingly, figuring out that you are not feeling too good.

"What's with the sour expression? You look unhappy, it's definitely not just because I'm here."

"Maybe it is." you mutter, but your eyes relax a little, as you give up on looking tough, knowing that he's got you figured out already. "Why do you suddenly care?"

Oscar pulls out a chair and sits right in front of you without looking away for even a split second. He takes in the way you're dressed, your expression, your hair, every single inch of you that he can see.

"Dunno. Maybe I just feel curious." he shrugs, with absolutely no shame, studying every single movement of the muscles of your face. "So? What happened?"

You exhale, giving up on trying to chase him away, knowing that while he usually looked like he didn't care about anything, once he settled on something, he stubbornly kept to it.

"It's not a good day for me." you say quietly, finally showing slight sensitivity, meeting his eyes, which soften slightly at your words.

"And so you chose to go to a party, instead of taking care of yourself at home?" he asks and although his tone sounds a bit scolding for some reason, for once it doesn't make you want to punch him in the face. His questions came off more as his way of showing concern.

You would like to keep believing he doesn't care. That he is completely insensitive to everything you feel, maybe even enjoys it when you're miserable. But in this moment, he's anything but that. Even though his words are reserved, the way his honey brown orbs follow yours makes your heart flutter a bit for some reason. His lips suddenly look more full than usual and oh, did he always have such a nice nose?

You open her mouth a bit, a little overwhelmed by those sudden thoughts. You quickly shake them off, trying to focus on forming a coherent response.

"I really don't want to be alone right now. The loud music and people are still better than sitting in my empty apartment right now. Even if it's not the best setting." you manage to say, taking a deep breath. "I didn't have any better ideas."

Oscar keeps looking at you, actually taking your words seriously. Seeing how you sit here, trying to handle your heavy heart makes him soften. He gets up and holds his hand out to you.

"Come on. You shouldn't spend an evening like that at a party. You can stay with me tonight."

Your eyes widen at those words. The guy who'd show disinterest in everything you said, who you'd fight with all the time, saying something so sympathetic? It feels unreal.

Your face heats up a bit, soft hints of a blush barely visible on your cheeks. You blink quickly, trying to calm down a bit, not able to look away from the man standing in front of you.

"We won't do anything you don't want to do." he says quickly, noticing your subtle reaction to his words. "I promise."

To hell with it.

You carefully take his warm hand and get up, stumbling a little, even though you are completely sober. Oscar immediately catches you, steadying you, looking down to meet your eyes, that are still wide.

Still in a slight daze, you let him lead you out of the party and walk down the street with you in the chilly evening air. You shiver a little, as you didn't bother to take a jacket with her.

Without hesitation, he takes his large hoodie off, and helps you put it on carefully, not saying a word. His scent immediately envelops you, as the fabric warms you up almost instantly.

He takes your arm gently and walks you through the empty streets. You press your lips together, utterly confused by the whole situation. Why did he start taking care of you like that?

"Thank you." you say quietly, not wanting to be ungrateful. A few hours ago you'd probably say that you hate his guts, but now... His actions leave you confused.

You walk in silence for a while, before finally stopping in front of his apartment door. For some reason you feel nervous, never having been to his home before. The whole evening made you doubt yourself and every single emotion you ever felt. Even though none of the things Oscar did were that big, they made you feel like a whole different person.

He glances at you and opens the door for you, actually acting like a gentleman for once. Or maybe he's always been one and you were just too busy focusing on his faults to notice? You really didn't know anymore.

He helps you to a seat, even though you are perfectly capable of walking by yourself and kneels down, carefully undoing all the little straps of your shoes. You feel her face heat up once more, looking down at the man on his knees before you, helping you with everything, without you even having to ask.

"Why are you doing this?" you whisper softly, looking at Oscar, who just got up and sat down infront of you. Your eyes are shining in the dim light, you is almost fascinated by the man and his doings.

"Because you need to be taken care of." He answers, softly, looking back at you, with something resembling determination in his eyes. "And I'll provide anything you need, so you can feel better."

Your breathing slows down a little, while your heart speeds up at that.

"Anything?" you whisper softly, your body almost aching to touch him, feel the warmth of his hands on your skin again.

Oscar nods his head and before he can say anything else, you lean closer, gently supporting his chin, while your lips touch his. Without hesitating, he puts his hands on both sides of your head, tangling your hair in his fingers as he takes the lead of the kiss.

You lean back after a few seconds, your breathing shaky, making eye contact with the aussie.

"Just tell me what you want me to do." he whispers to you, his eyes full of affection and warmth you didn't think he was capable of showing.

"Just... Make me forget about it. I want to feel you. Just you."

"Do you want me to be gentle?" he asks, assuming that you need only care and affection.

"The opposite." you whisper, making Oscar's breath hitch slightly. He gets up and lifts you up from the couch, twirling you around a bit, before rather quickly making his way to the bedroom with you. He didn't want to have you on the couch for the first time. This had to be more intimate.

He throws you down on the bed a bit roughly, crawling on top of you. You're still wearing his hoodie over your silver party dress, which honestly turns him on quite a bit.

"My beautiful girl." he murmurs, breathing in the sweet scent of your perfume, as he buries his head in your neck "All for me to have."

He places soft kisses on your jaw and quickly moves lower, to your collarbone, progressively getting rougher. He nibbles and leaves hickeys all over you, marking all the sweet spots that make you whimper and moan.

"O-Oscar." you stutter, gripping his muscular back a bit, before immediately releasing it as the sensations continue.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he asks quietly, a small smirk on his face "Tell me how it feels, honey."

You bite your lower lip softly at the nickname, not expecting him to get this intimate so quickly, but definitely liking it.

"Feels... Amazing." you whisper, which makes him continue. He takes his hoodie off of you, before lifting up your party dress. His lips curl at your underwear. It's a simple lacy set, nothing too fancy. He doesn't need fancy though.

"Light green, interesting choice." he teases slightly, undoing your bra and sliding it off, careful not to scratch you with the clip. He'd rather leave all the marks himself after all.

His hands move to your now exposed breasts, kneading them in a painfully slow way, before taking one of your nipples in his lips, sucking on it and teasing it with his tongue.

It makes you moan, which causes him to smirk against your breasts

"Eager, are we?" he mutters, his head buried in your chest. Without moving his face away, his hand goes lower, sliding under your panties and feeling your already wet core.

His lips curl at the fact that he makes you so wet, but he doesn't comment on it for now, slipping a finger into you, making more beautiful sounds come out of your mouth. He attacks your chest with his tongue and grazes it with his teeth occasionally, all while working on your slit.

It doesn't take long, before you are close. Your mouth opens slightly as you let out another whiny whimper.

"Oscar... I'm..." she stutters out, looking down at the man who's busy pleasuring her body.

"I know, pretty girl." he smirks "But I can't let you yet." he pulls away, leaving your hole empty for a moment.

He takes his shirt off, making your eyes drift to his muscular stomach. He can see you enjoying the view, which makes him smirk again. Soon enough, he is completely naked, just like you. Still on top of you, he positions himself in front of your entrance.

He leans closer, his mouth close to yours. His dick is of regular size, maybe just a bit bigger than most. Still, you observe him a bit carefully, knowing that you asked him to be rough.

"You can take it, I know you can, baby." Oscar whispers and begins pounding into you. His movements are quite quick, cutting your breaths short, as he thrusts away. You both pant and moan, feeling pure bliss. You never would have thought having sex with him could feel so exquisite.

"God, you're taking me so well" he murmurs, going faster, which makes your moans grow louder "That's right, let me hear your filthy whines."

You both finish at the same time, breathing heavily. He collapses on top of you, making eye contact.

"You did so good for me, pretty girl" he whispers into your ear and rolls to the side, laying next to you, as you catch your breath.

You look at him your eyes turning watery. You suddenly feel even more vulnerable, after sharing this intimate moment with Oscar.

"Why wouldn't you ever look at me? Why were you always so cold?" you whisper, not able to stop yourself from asking the question that keeps disturbing your peace of mind.

He looks back at her, his expression soft, but serious, he wraps his strong arms around you, hugging you tightly.

"Because you intimidated me. I don't think I have ever seen a woman more enticing than you. I don't understand it myself, but I cannot keep my thoughts away from you. And it scared me sometimes."

You don't say anything to his words. You didn't need to. You let yourself sink in the warm feeling of being cared for. You look up to meet his gorgeous brown eyes and peck the tip of his nose, making him smile widely. He immediately responds with a soft kiss, only on your lips. You nuzzle up against him, breathing softly.

Neither of you say anything, simply finding comfort in eachother's presence. Soon enough, your eyelids start feeling heavy and you feel yourself dozing off in his arms.

[heavenlyvision]

After hell freezes over

Word count: 16k

Pairing: Bi-Han x F!Reader

This part four to my 'When hell freezes over' series, read the other parts first, linked below :3

part one, part two, part three

A/N: This got way out of hand guys, I am so sorry. Thank you so much for your patience and kindness while waiting for this update !!! I love and appreciate you all so much!!! Also: LONGEST FIC!!!!

Summary:  The cat’s out the bag, everyone knows, and now you have to have a very awkward conversation and Bi-Han isn’t around to help. When he gets back, you try to offer him space to open up to you, but you have to do the same in return. Bi-Han makes you keep your word.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst (iddy bit), soft!Bi-Han (like so soft almost ooc), mean!Bi-Han, return of Jealous!Bi-Han, (minor) handjob, face sitting, face riding, man handling, p in v sex, squirting, clit slapping, titty play, no use of y/n, I think that’s all <33

Sore doesn’t even begin to describe how your body feels today, if you thought your muscles were achy the day before then you don’t know how to explain what this feeling is. Everything is heavy, but a satisfactory kind of heaviness. The kind where you’re so sore that just laying completely still feels like you’re about to ascend into heaven.

When you wake in the morning and reach out beside you, you find the bed empty, Bi-Han’s absence making the room feel so much larger. Your heart pangs a bit at the realisation, he didn’t even wake you. That, and he still hasn’t changed your bed sheets.

Rubbing at your eyes, you try to sit upright, body aching in protest. He certainly succeeded in his goal, there is no way you can train today, not in this condition. You rest your back against the beds headboard, considering if you really need to get out of bed yet or not.

The fact that you’re still naked is one of your biggest motivations for possibly moving. Just as you decide you should get out of bed, Bi-Han slides the door of your room open and slips inside, he’s making an effort to be quiet. But as he turns around to look at you, he notices your sitting form.

“You’re up,” he states.

“Very observant of you.” You have a bothered expression on your face.

Waking up alone after expecting him to still be here has upset you, which is even more annoying, because he is not obligated to stay. The sway he has over your feelings confounds you, he is one man, and yet, so much more.

“Are you… annoyed with me?” He asks cautiously.

“No.”

He raises a brow at you, “It seems like you are.”

You huff out a sigh, “I’m trying really hard to not be, because the reason is ridiculous.”

“And what is the reason?”

“When I woke up, you were gone.” You feel pitiful but you can’t help how you feel, and he makes you feel vulnerable.

His lips turn up into an amused smile, “That’s really cute.”

You frown at him, you aren’t trying to be cute, “I don’t like it.”

“Don’t like what?” He asks.

“How much I want to wake up to you in the mornings.”

His mouth twists, like he’s trying not to laugh, “Sweet girl,” he moves around the foot of the bed to stand beside you, “I went to get you some coffee.”

He lifts one of the two cups towards you, the cups you didn’t realise he was holding.

You pout a bit, feeling bad about being upset now, “That’s really thoughtful… thank you.”

Reaching for the cup, you hold it in two hands, enjoying the warmth it’s giving you. Bi-Han sits on the edge of the bed facing you. He’s watching you drink your coffee with kind eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into the lip of the mug.

He smiles into his own mug, “Don’t apologise for that,” he considers his words while he sips at his own drink, when he’s pulled away, he places the mug on the table beside your bed.

He continues to speak, “It is nice to know that you want me here with you.”

You tell him, “I always want you.”

He’s silent as he looks into your eyes, searching. You aren’t sure what he’s looking for but you’re starting to regret your words, maybe you shouldn’t have said that. Maybe he doesn’t feel the same. Your propensity for being honest possibly biting you in the ass. It isn’t the first time you’ve regretted your words as soon as you’ve spoken them.

But even though you sometimes regret your words, you always mean them. Which is why Bi-Han sitting stoically in front of you and not replying is making you feel… exposed, emotionally.

Bi-Han’s hand moves to pluck your mug from your hands, and then he places it next to his own on the side table. His action confuses you, are you being punished in a really specific and odd way? You look up at him, bewilderment clear on your face.

And then he’s suddenly grabbing you and pulling you into his lap, wrapping you up in his arms. His lips pressing soft and quick kisses to your face, on your cheeks, lips, anywhere he can get to. His unexpected display of affection drags joyful giggles from you.

“Stop, stop,” you’re still laughing as you protest against him.

He does eventually pull back from you and when he does you ask, “What was that for?”

“Felt like it.” Is all he says in return.

His feelings for you run deep but his actions speak louder than words. Last night showed you that he is not eloquent in speaking his feelings, it frustrates him how he can’t seem to find the right words, but he tries and when he can’t verbalise them, he shows you. And that’s enough for you right now.

You shake your head in disbelief, “Can you put me back down, my muscles are not agreeing with movement today.”

A large, arrogant smile grows on his face at this information, “No training today?”

“Try not to gloat so much,” you bop him on the nose with one of your fingers.

“Not gonna make that promise,” he replies as he moves you back onto the bed.

His eyes trail over your bare skin, looking at all the hickeys he left behind last night. You cover yourself with the bed sheets, he is not allowed to be horny again, he might break you.

You shoot him with a pointed look, “Stop it.”

His eyes look back into yours, “I am not doing anything.”

“Mhmm,” you hum back at him.

Moving from the bed, he gets up and pulls out a shirt and some underwear for you. He places them down on the bed in front of you.

“Thank you,” you say.

He grunts in response, he’s about to turn away but your hand shoots out and tugs at his, pulling him down. When he’s close enough, you lean up to him, taking his lips in a sweet kiss. One he happily accepts, his hand coming up to gently hold the side of your face. You go to end the kiss, but he pulls your face forward, reconnecting your lips for just a moment longer.

When the kiss does end, it’s on his terms. Standing to his full height again, he moves across your room and shuffles through your belongings.

“What are you looking for?”

He continues looking inside drawers, “Sheets, I said I would change yours.”

“Linen cupboard, next to the bathroom door.”

He grunts in acknowledgement; you take the hint and move off the bed. Grabbing the clothes and heading into the bathroom, while in there you decide to shower quickly, rinsing off the prior nights activities.

When you exit the bathroom, you notice that Bi-Han has changed the sheets for you, “Thank you for changing them.”

“I don’t know why you bothered, probably gonna ruin them again soon anyways,” he shrugs at you from his position on the bed.

You shake your head at him vehemently, “Nah ah, I need to heal, or you will break me.”

He rolls his eyes at you, like you’re being so dramatic, but you’re genuinely concerned for your physical wellbeing.

Bi-Han is sitting with his back against the headboard, legs spread out length wise on the mattress. As you approach the bed you climb over to him, straddling him and hugging his upper half. His arms come around behind you, holding you close.

“This is just cruel you know,” he huffs into the top of your head.

“I don’t know what you mean, I just want a hug.”

“Mm but I can feel the warmth of your cu–”

Cutting him off you say, “–You are insatiable, truly.”

“Your fault, truly.” He retorts.

You press your face into his chest, resting your forehead against it. Your body is fully relaxed against him, savouring the closeness and enjoying the intimate moment. You think Bi-Han gives the best hugs, his embrace holds you perfectly, always making you feel so secure.

Moving your head to the side so your cheek rests on his chest, you say, “How am I going to get out of training?”

“Tell the truth,” he shrugs.

“That is an awful idea, and you know it.”

“Well, whatever you decide, it will have to be soon.”

“Not helpful,” you complain.

You can’t see it, but you just know he’s rolled his eyes at you again, “Tell them you wanna meditate or some shit, whatever it is you spend hours doing at that rock.”

“That is helpful, albeit rude,” his idea isn’t a bad one though, you could just sit at the rock, Liu Kang doesn’t mind when you train like that.

His chest rumbles with an amused sound at your complaint of his rudeness.

“Before I forget, I have a mission to go on with Kuai Liang and Tomas, I will be gone for a few days,” he mentions it flippantly.

His attitude towards telling you irks you a bit, you look him in the eyes, chin resting on his chest again, “If you ever manage to forget to tell me something like that, I will hunt you down just to give you the silent treatment.”

He has an entertained smile on his face, “Then, I will always tell you when I have to leave.”

“Good,” you state, pressing a kiss to his chest before laying back down.

You end up falling back to sleep, laying against his body. You don’t get much more sleep, unfortunately having to start the day but you appreciate the extra half an hour you do manage to get. Especially since when you do wake up, Bi-Han is still holding you.

❆˖°

You’ve not run into anyone today; you sought out Liu Kang to inform him of your decision to meditate today and then came straight to the rock. Despite actively avoiding everyone, the turtleneck you wore yesterday has made a secondary appearance today, hiding the additional hickeys bestowed upon your skin. It’s hot when Bi-Han gives you them but people seeing them is so insanely embarrassing. One wouldn’t be that bad, but you have like 20 on you right now.

The pure volume of them is what has you hiding your body, it wouldn’t even matter if everyone knew you were with Bi-Han. The idea of them seeing visual evidence of how you practically let him do to you as he pleases in the bedroom would have you dying on the spot from mortification. But, you digress, hopefully they will heal while Bi-Han is gone, and you’ll be able to stop dressing in long necked shirts. Which seems feasible until you remember that he’s probably just going to mark you up even more when he comes back. Whatever, this is a problem for future you.

Right now, you should be focusing on your breathing, which is easy enough, you didn’t realise how much you’ve missed your enlightenment rock. It gives you the space to breathe and reconnect with nature, feeling the energy move through you. Time always manages to slip away from you when you come here, too engrossed in the way you feel, the things you can sense. The Earth speaking to you, it’s soothing.

Footsteps can be felt on the Earth behind you, and then you feel Bi-Han’s eyes on you. His presence has you smiling to yourself, but you don’t move, waiting for him to come to you. Which, he does, walking around you and standing directly in front of the rock.

Your lack of a response has him huffing out, “I know you know I am here. You always know.”

“And don’t you forget it,” you retort, smiling up at him now.

His face is stoic, but his tone is gentle, “I have to leave now, we should be back in a few days, maybe less.”

“Be safe,” you tell him.

The thought of not seeing him for a few days dampens your mood, you’ve been growing accustomed to his presence. You feel like he just left on a mission for Liu Kang, but you understand he is an important man with commitments he has to attend to. You’re just some girl he likes.

“Mmm, I’ll try,” he shrugs in response to your request.

You frown in disapproval at him, “Not funny.”

His attitude is dismissive, “I’ll be fine.”

“When you come back, I have something I want to show you.”

“And what’s that?” His expression turns suggestive.

Your roll your eyes at him, “Nothing like that.”

You go to lightly smack him on the chest, but he catches your hand in the air. Stopping it from making contact. His hand drops yours, both of his coming up to hold your face in his hands. His eyes look intently into your own, his really pretty eyes. You practically melt for him in his hands.

Your expression makes him smile fondly at you, “So sweet on me.” He observes.

“I’ll stop.” You threaten, you don’t need the attentive commentary on your feelings, it makes you feel open.

It makes you feel seen, the horrible ordeal of being known and all that. It’s attention you are not accustomed to.

“Don’t you dare.” He hums, looking at you, eyes sparkling as they flit over your face, your neck; he won’t say it but he’s sweet on you too. Maybe more than you are on him.

You want to retort back again, keep the back and forth going. Hoping to prolong this conversation, prolong being in his presence but he’s leaning down to you. His hands still holding your face between them, he immediately deepens the kiss. Tongue in your mouth, he’s insistent but not forceful. He kisses you with the force of all his feelings, telling you everything you need to know without him having to speak a word.

Your own hands grab onto his forearms, you’re letting him kiss you how he needs. He’s taking what he needs, and it has you sighing into his mouth. His lips always, always overwhelming you. One of his hands goes from your face and pulls at your sitting waist, trying to move you closer to him.

Arms looping around his neck and holding on, your body stretching up. Both Bi-Han’s hands hold onto your hips, as he pulls you into him. Lips never pulling apart for more than a second, he’s holding you to him now. You’re no longer sitting and instead pressed to him, arms wrapped around his neck, his own arms holding you up. Your feet are not even touching the ground, he’s holding you up effortlessly, keeping your mouth level to his.

His kisses are fatal, and full, and when he pulls his lips away, he rests his forehead against yours. You’re breathless, both of you are. And you’re trying to savour the moment, you rest your head on his shoulder, hugging him to you. He accepts the embrace and holds you tightly.

He speaks softly, “I’ll go anywhere you want, when I am back.”

You hum against him, “thank you.”

And then he’s leaving, taking Kuai and Tomas with him. You were his one and only stop before going.

You’ll miss him.

❆˖°

That evening at dinner isn’t the same, Bi-Han never offered much in the way of conversation, but it feels significantly quieter without him. He may not have spoken much, but his presence always said plenty.

Usually something like, “shut up, don’t talk to me.” or “don’t look at me, I don’t like any of you.”

It’s funny how much he puts up with you, when you think if anyone else mildly annoyed him, his instinctual response would be to punch them. Though, he isn’t sleeping with anyone else here.

Dinner is also quieter without Tomas and Kuai, at least verbally. They offered more words than Bi-Han, you find their differences interesting, they’re brothers and were raised together but something was different for each of them. There is so much that you want to know about Bi-Han, but he has a sad way about him, not obviously. Outwardly he comes across as angry, but underneath you feel a sadness and you wonder why. It’s something you want to ask him about but isn’t something you should ask about, some things can only be offered, not taken.

You’re deep in thought when your eyes catch on Raiden’s, he notices you coming back from your thoughts and offers a polite smile, one you return.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yup,” you nod at him.

This group makes you happy, you’ve never had much in the way of friends, so suddenly having a group of them is nice. Though, having people who care about you is an odd feeling, that’s not to say you haven’t had people care about you before, it’s just that in the past it’s been conditional or surface level. This isn’t that, everyone here is so genuine to you and sometimes it stuns you.

You’re pulled from your thoughts again, “What’s that, sugar?” Johnny asks from beside you.

You don’t know what he’s referring to, you turn to look at him, expression confused, “I don’t know?”

His smile is evil, his finger comes up and presses into a point on your skin, where your jaw meets your neck, just below your ear. Your blood runs cold and one of your hands comes up to cover it.

“It’s nothing,” your eyes are wide as you shake your head at him, silently begging him for discretion.

Johnny either doesn’t catch on or doesn’t care, “I know a hickey when I see one!”

Noises erupt from everyone at the table, Raiden chokes on his food across from you.

“What the hell, Johnny!” you huff at him.

You take it back; Johnny is the exception to the group and no longer a friend. His grin is large and mimics the Cheshire cat.

“Who gave you a hickey?!” Kung Lao yells out from next to Raiden.

You sigh deeply, of course this happens when Bi-Han is gone.

“Wait… is that why you weren’t at training today?” Kenshi asks from the other side of you.

He caught on quick, how annoying of him.

You’re holding your head in your hands, shaking it in exasperation. What did this night turn into.

When you look up again, you’re very obviously embarrassed, face contorted with your discomfort. The guys don’t notice, they’re all looking around the table, trying to find out who you’ve been sleeping with.

“This is none of our business,” Liu Kang interrupts, trying to be the voice of reason, but by the look he gives you, you can tell he wants you to tell him who you’re sleeping with. Such a gossip.

They ignore Liu Kang, and once they’ve determined it’s none of them, “OH MY GOD, it’s one of the brothers!” Johnny exclaims.

“Oh, well then obviously, it’s the scary one,” Kung Lao says.

You’ve still not said anything, you wouldn’t even know what to say. Bi-Han literally just left a few hours ago and now everything is out, because of him. You didn’t even know there was a hickey there, he would’ve seen it before he left too and just kept it to himself bastard.

“He does stare at her a lot,” Raiden notes, joining in.

“Et tu, Brute?” You complain.

He looks at you sheepishly, feeling bad.

Johnny’s hand comes out and shakes your shoulder, swaying you, “Is that why he looked like he wanted to kill me yesterday?”

There isn’t any point in denying… but you’re going to try anyways, “I don’t know what you guys are on about, you’ve all come to your own conclusions.”

You have a horrible poker face right now, being put on blast has you so embarrassed that any lie that you try to tell falls flat. Your attempt falls on deaf hears, they all shoot you a dubious look, even Liu Kang looks like he doesn’t believe you.

“I mean, he was especially murderous yesterday, he stares at you a lot, he went to say goodbye to you earlier.” Kenshi points out.

“How did you know he came to see me?” You ask, you wouldn’t think Bi-Han would tell anyone about that.

“I didn’t,” Kenshi has a supressed smile on lips, if he had fully smiled, it’d probably look as evil as Johnny’s. He’s proud of himself for catching you.

“Oh sugar, I am so sorry, you’ve just told on yourself,” Johnny’s hand is still on your shoulder, and he rocks you again.

You sigh and roll your eyes before smacking Johnny’s hand off you, “Not nice, Kenshi.”

“I am sorry,” he certainly does not look sorry, he acts better than Johnny but he’s just as bad.

Kung Lao interjects, “Okay, wait, for how long have you guys been,” he makes weird motions with his hands trying to finish what he means without saying it.

Lucky for him Johnny says it, “How long have you guys been fucking?”

“Johnny! Have some decorum,” Liu Kang chastises him.

Everyone else looks to you, all eyes on you, waiting for an answer to Johnny’s very invasive question.

You look up to the ceiling, hoping it might fall in on you and you can avoid all of this.

Raiden speaks to you gently, “You do not have to tell us anything if you are uncomfortable–”

“–Screw that! You have to tell us, he’s so… mean and you’re so… not!” Johnny interrupts.

“It’s been over a week, not long.” You say honestly, answering them will move this along quicker.

“Over a whole week, and no one noticed?” Kenshi says.

You clear your throat, “Well, Kuai knows.”

“You told him and not us!” Johnny is offended, “You aren’t closer to him than me, what the hell?”

“It wasn’t about choosing to tell him.” You shuffle in your seat, uncomfortable.

Kung Lao catches onto what you mean first, his eyes wide, “OH MY GOD,” he exclaims.

Raiden taps him, “what, what?” Kung Lao leans into him and whispers his suspicions to him, Raiden’s eyes also grow wide.

Liu Kang is shaking his head side to side from the head of the table, he knew immediately what you meant, he just doesn’t want to make this experience worse for you.

Kenshi and Johnny share a look around you for a few moments before their facial expressions also grow shocked when they catch on.

Johnny looks back at you, a hand over his mouth and one pointing at you, he’s being way more dramatic than necessary. But it’s what makes it so fun for him, the dramatics of an actor.

“You didn’t tell Kuai… he heard!”

“Yes, thank you for verbalising that, Johnny,” you sigh out.

Everyone is silent before he starts to let out stifled laughter, it’s apparently contagious because they all start laughing together. Everyone but Liu Kang but you know he’s enjoying this, his eyes bright and amused.

What a bunch of schoolboys, “Oh my god! Grow up!”

The laughter dies out slowly, “I can’t believe you guys, we are not friends anymore,” you pout out, “Especially you,” you target Johnny.

His hands raise up, “Hey! Why me specifically?”

“For not keeping your mouth shut.” You cross your arms over your chest.

Johnny’s smile grows even larger, if that’s possible, “Why are you wearing that turtleneck, sugar?”

You snarl at him, “I think you know why, sugar.”

Gasps comes from Raiden and Kung Lao.

Kenshi speaks next, “Jesus, did he maul you?”

Your head falls to your shoulder in a show of your own dramatics, “He might as well have.” You pick your head back up quickly, “It was Johnny’s fault!”

“How is it my fault?” His voice is offended, a hand falls on his chest.

“You flirted with me, it made him jealous,” you shrug.

Johnny pleads his case, “That wasn’t my fault! You’re hot and had your thighs either side of my head!”

“Don’t say that in front of him,” you tell Johnny sincerely, if Bi-han was here you’d genuinely be concerned for Johnny’s safety, “He already wants you dead.”

Johnny is flabbergasted, “HUUUH?”

“He actually isn’t happy with… any of you, not that he ever is,” you say.

“He tells you how he feels?” Liu Kang asks.

“He tries,” you nod.

Kenshi adds, “and he gets jealous?”

“Very,” you nod again.

“Dude, he LIKES you,” Johnny concludes, proud of himself.

“I know,” okay, you find this really funny, they think they’ve discovered something that you didn’t know, “He told me.”

“And?” Kung Lao probes.

“And, I like him too, which he also already knows,” you raise an eyebrow. You think they’re having a hard time grasping the fact that he talks to you and has told you how he feels.

“Woah, you guys have like… a full secret relationship,” Johnny remarks.

You confirm, it isn’t labelled but, “I guess so, pretty much.”

“I am stuck on him liking someone,” Kung Lao jests.

The comment pulls a smile from you because it is funny that of all people, he likes you.

“I mean at all, not just romantically,” He adds.

A chuckle comes from you at his addition.

“Well, I mean… if he was going to like someone it’s no wonder it’s her,” Kenshi says.

“That’s true,” Johnny replies.

They’re all nodding their heads in agreement; it’s making you feel bashful, “Okay, we can still be friends, since you all like me so much,” you say in a joking manner.

“Nice!” Johnny rejoices, to which they all join in the celebration. Their stupidity makes you laugh, you’re very fond of them all.

“He didn’t want anyone to know,” you tell them.

“Maybe he shouldn’t have assaulted your skin then,” Kenshi shrugs.

You decide to be a little bit mean; you turn to Kenshi and look him dead in the eyes, “You have no idea how bad it is,” you’re mostly joking but also yes, it is that bad.

Kenshi’s eyes get wide, and he tints pink as he understands the weight behind your words. It’s an amusing sight.

Johnny also catches your implication, “Holy shit–”

“–Are you going to tell him we know about the two of you, when he gets back?” Raiden cuts off Johnny, changing the subject, which you’re thankful for.

You shrug at him, “I’ll have to, I can’t lie to him, he always knows.”

“How cute,” Johnny has a sickening sweet lilt to his voice, mocking you.

You roll your eyes at him and push his shoulder, jostling him, “watch it Hollywood, you’re on thin ice right now.”

Tonight, has been, a lot, you couldn’t foresee this coming, but at least it wasn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be.

“Is he freaky in bed?” Johnny leans closer to you to ask, trying to be discrete; everyone hears him anyhow.

You take back your earlier statement; Johnny is making this about as bad as you thought he would.

Raiden rolls his eyes at Johnny, having saved the conversation from this direction only for Johnny to swivel right back around and hit you with this question.

You ask him, “Do you want me to answer honestly? Or are you just ribbing me?” You genuinely can’t tell.

“Of course, I want the truth,” he scoffs.

You pause, you don’t know what to say, “he’s hot.” You decide to be dismissive.

“Oh c’mon, that’s boring, I want something juicy!” Johnny whinges.

“It’s hot, he’s good…” You trail off, remembering how verbal Bi-Han is in bed, how much he talks to you, how much you enjoy it, you miss him.

Johnny boos at your non-descript detailing of your sex life.

“Johnny, go get laid,” you tell him.

A chorus of ‘oooooh’ erupts from the guys, rubbing your teasing comment in Johnny’s face.

“You all know far too much now anyways, any more information you want, you can risk your lives asking Bi-Han for.” You shut down all further questioning for the night.

You’re putting up a brave front but them asking Bi-Han directly will result in one of two ways, one: he kills them on the spot, or two: he gives far too much detail, happy to explain how well he fucks you, hoping to deter them from wanting you. It’s like the marks he left behind, they’re a sign of ownership, and you’re sure his words would reflect the same kind of intent. Especially after he got so jealous the other day. You’re just hoping Bi-Han’s aura is too threatening for them to even attempt at asking him something like that.

You aren’t sure if you should be concerned about everyone finding out or not, Bi-Han wasn’t exactly trying his hardest to keep your relationship on the downlow, but you also know he probably doesn’t want people to know.

Cause like he said, ‘two things can be true at once’.

❆˖°

The past couple days have been gruelling, the nonstop teasing from mostly Johnny but also all of them has been, exhausting. It isn’t particularly upsetting but it is almost constant, this is why you wanted to keep it secret. Not because of any grander reason, but because these guys are unbearable sometimes and you spend almost every day, all day with them.

Right now, you’re all having a break from training, standing in the open courtyard, you were all having a nice conversation but of course the subject of you and Bi-Han always comes back up. It’s like the go to topic when conversation dies down now.

Johnny is whinging again, “Come on, give us something! Or does he just lay there silently?”

He is pressing you about your sex life again, weirdly invested in the dynamics.

You shake your head at him, “Johnny I don’t know what makes you think I would give you explicit details about my sex life, it’s not any of your business.”

You really wish Bi-Han were here, dealing with this on your own is very difficult, you imagine it would be easier to cope if he were beside you. They should all be back later today, possibly the evening, you just have to field the questions until then.

“It’s a weird dynamic and I can’t picture it!” He is still pushing it.

“Why would you want to?” You ask him.

He’s being very dramatic, “Because it’s odd! Like a car crash you can’t look away from”

“Not comparable Johnny!” What the hell, your sex life with Bi-Han is not like a car crash.

“No but it’s like…” He’s clicking his fingers together trying to remember the term he is searching for, “morbid curiosity!” He snaps in finality, pointing at you.

You shake your head and groan, “Most people who experience that are also polite enough to not ask, be more like Raiden,” you point at Raiden, he’s standing across from you, he’s been very polite and not bombarded you with inappropriate questions.

You add, “Curiosity killed the cat.”

“Ah yes, but satisfaction brought it back,” Johnny concludes, his smile smug.

You stand there silently; you’ve decided to just ignore him now. Which of course, does not work, he is now poking at your side, repeating your name over and over.

“Come on, just a crumb of detail!” He huffs out at you before suddenly going quiet.

They’re all quiet and you know why, Bi-Han is behind you. You can feel his presence, looming over you from behind, he’s not looking at you. You assume he is shooting the others a killer glare.

“She is a sweet little thing in bed,” Bi-Han adds, his tone humourless, he’s pissed.

You gasp at his statement and turn around to him, you slap him on the chest lightly, “What the hell Bi-Han?!”

You look up at him with an angry expression, he’s still looking at the group behind you. His face as stoic as usual, his tone was angry, but his expression is blasé. He’s daring them to ask him more, he will answer and that’s a threat.

You look back at everyone, none of them want to talk, all a bit red in the face. They’re uncomfortable and shooting dirty looks at Johnny, who is looking away to the sky with an innocent expression on his face.

Spinning back round you look up at Bi-Han again and this time he looks down to you, his gaze immediately softening at the sight of you. He leans down and hugs you, one you accept because you missed him, even though he just made it difficult for your friends to look you in the eyes.

When he pulls back you go to turn around and apologise to the guys, but Bi-Han has other plans, he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, walking away with you.

You go to protest, “Hey! Wait–”

“–No,” he says, simply.

You can see the guys as you’re carried away, Johnny holds two thumbs up and has a huge smile on his face. You point at him, your gaze burning as you look directly into his eyes. Making a promise to get back at him for being so annoying and nosy.

As you walk through the grounds, you walk past Kuai, Tomas and Liu Kang, Bi-Han doesn’t stop walking, completely ignoring them.

“Hey guys, glad you’re back safe,” you say waving at them as you’re carried past.

Tomas has a confused look on his face as he waves back at you. Kuai’s expression a disapproving one, his brother continues to exasperate him, and Liu Kang just looks, exhausted.

You’re carried back to Bi-Han’s room, and once you’re inside he places you on the floor gently. Gaining your footing and stretching once you’re standing again.

You tell Bi-Han, “That wasn’t necessary, I would’ve come with you willingly.”

He changes the topic, “So they all know.”

You look as guilty as you feel, “Yes…” You say, Bi-Han gives you a stern look, but you continue, “…but actually, it’s your fault because they saw one of the hickeys you left!” You point an accusatory finger at him.

His face morphs into an expression of pride, wolfish smile present on his lips, “Good.”

“No, no, not good, and you know, it occurs to me that you would have seen it before you left and said nothing!” You point out to him.

“And if I did?” He shrugs at you, face dropping into a serious expression.

“No… mmm, no…,” you’re struggling to think of a punishment, there is only really one thing you can punish him with, “No sex!”

He’s quick to answer, “Okay, then I did not see it.”

His expression is definite, you know he’s pleased with himself, but he’s keeping his poker face on.

Your hands land on your hips, disapproving of his attitude, “Is this what you wanted?”

He looks upwards and to the side, pretending to think, “I can’t say I am particularly torn up about it.”

“You have no idea the torment I’ve had to put up with,” you sigh out.

He considers your words for a second, “Want me to kill them?”

“NO!” He knows you do not want that.

He smiles affectionately at you, “I am sorry I wasn’t here with you.”

“You should be,” you pout at him, you’re a little miffed with him right now.

And he knows which is why he hits you where you’re soft for him, “I missed you, sweet girl.”

You want to tell him you missed him too, but you don’t, instead you huff out, “I doubt it.”

He moves to you as he speaks, “Missed you, made sure we finished as quick as possible, just so I could see you again.” When he reaches you, he holds your head in his hands, his eyes soft as he looks into yours, “did you miss me?”

He’s trapped you, “Of course I missed you,” your response is mumbled out, begrudged with yourself for giving in so easily.

He smiles at you warmly, you look up at him, “Still annoyed with you though.”

He rolls his eyes playfully at you, “I am sure I can fix that.”

Leaning down he presses a single kiss to your lips; one you don’t return. He’s still holding your face in his hands, your own hanging limply at your sides. He grunts in disapproval at your lack of response.

“Kiss me back,” he demands.

You shake your head in response.

He huffs out an annoyed breath, “You’re not being very polite, missed you so much and you won’t even kiss me.” Your heart pulls in your chest and you almost give in.

He leans down and kisses you again, and again, and again. He keeps kissing you until you sigh against him, he takes the opportunity to enter his tongue into your mouth, finally able to kiss you properly. Your hands instinctually come up for something to hold onto, grabbing at the material of his shirt.

His own hands moving from your face down to your thighs, he picks you up and you gasp against his lips. Your inner thighs resting on his hips, your arms holding onto each other from behind his neck, the sudden shift shocked you and you’re holding tightly onto Bi-Han for balance.

“Relax, sweet girl, I’ve got you,” he nuzzles at the side of your face, inhaling your scent.

You take his lips back in yours, he turns the kiss dirty immediately. Tongue in your mouth, taking your breath away. He walks you both to the wall, and your back rests against it. His mouth never leaves yours, savouring the way you’re kissing him, enjoying the small sounds he’s pulling from you. His kisses are insistent, showing you just how much he missed you.

When he pulls away, it’s to look at your face, he’s taking in all your features and taking pride at the look in your eyes. It’s the same expression you always have when he kisses you, so soft for him, gooey eyed. His kisses take all thoughts from you, the only thought you have is his lips on your own.

“Ah there she is, my sweet girl, the one who’s so polite to me,” he hums, nosing at the skin of your cheek.

“Don’t be mean, not after kissing me like that,” you reply.

He laughs lightly and goes to place you back on your feet, but you cling to him, wanting a hug. He lets you hang on, but he sighs out in faux annoyance. You tuck your head under his, resting your forehead against him.

You mumble into his chest, “Still annoyed that you left me here to deal with them all.”

“Probably for the best, you are more patient than I.”

“Would’ve been nice to have you here, I was super embarrassed,” you shake your head into his chest.

“My offer to kill them still stands,” he’s joking, mostly.

Pulling your face from his chest, you laugh in response, “No, thank you.” It’s quiet for a moment, and then you remember, “I still have something I want to show you.”

He looks at you with a suggestive look on his face, “and what’s that?”

“Nothing like that,” you frown at him, he knows already, he’s just trying to get a rise out of you.

He chuckles at you and pecks your lips, “Show me later? After lunch?”

“Sounds good,” you smile at him.

His eyes glint with mischief, “There is something I would like to see right now,” he remarks, moving to the bed and laying you down on it. He’s on top of you, straddling your outer thighs, keeping you still underneath him.

“Bi-Han, do we really have time for this?” You ask, not completely upset with where this is heading.

He smirks at you, “I do.”

And then he’s pulling your shirt off, a gasp pulled from you as his head dips to leave more marks on your chest, lips trailing to your breasts. He sucks harshly against your soft skin, nibbling at the tissue on your breasts. He takes a nipple into his mouth and flicks it with his tongue, the stimulation has you whimpering, chest rising towards him in response.

His large hands grip you, holding your ribcage still as he works at your nipple, he parts from you, making a popping noise as he does.

“Got perfect tits, missed them,” he hums, moving to your other breast.

His mouth is cold, you think he’s doing it purposefully. Either way, its enhances the pleasure he’s giving you. One of his hands grabs at your other breast, fondling it, tugging at the nipple. The moans that want to escape are being held back only by sheer will, which is slowly falling away.

Pulling back, he sits up a bit, looking at your rapidly rising and falling chest. His eyes holding anything but pure thoughts, both of his hands grope at your tits, he’s toying with you. Enjoying your growing need for him, you go to say something about it, but his fingers start pulling at both your nipples, it has you sighing a moan and forgetting what you wanted to say in the first place.

He’s proud of himself, rendering you speechless just from the way he plays with your tits, and if he wasn’t touching you in such a divine way, you just might curse him out about it.

“Such a pretty little thing,” he coos at you.

“We have to go to lu–hah–nch,” you gasp out.

“In a moment,” he says.

It’s going to be more than a moment and you know it, just based off the almost feral look on his face, and by the way one of his hands leaves your chest to travel down your body. Cupping your pussy over your pants, he massages you before spreading your pussy lips to rub at your clit through the material of your pants. You squirm at the stimulation, huffing out quiet whimpers as he rubs at you.

He's about to say something, probably something obscene but it’s cut off by a knock on his door. A voice follows it, “Lunch is ready,” it’s Kuai’s voice, he sounds… weary.

Bi-Han rolls his eyes, you know he’s going to say something nasty so you cut in over him, “Thank you, Kuai, we will be there in a moment.” You keep your eyes locked with Bi-Han as you say it.

Kuai hums his acknowledgement and walks away.

You go to sit up, but Bi-Han places a hand on your sternum and pushes you back down, “Hold on, wanna look at you for a moment more.”

His words make your heart jump, but you tell him, “You can look at me plenty, later.”

Groaning, he pulls you up and off the bed, you smile up at him. Standing on your tippy toes, you give him a kiss and he hums into it.

“Watch it, I’ll keep you here.” He warns.

You giggle a little at his threat, it doesn’t feel intimidating at all, it makes you feel hot. Everything he does increases your temperature; it really is ironic considering.

He reaches for your discarded shirt, and you hold your arms up in the air, waiting for him pull it over your head. Instead, he stands there, holding your shirt and staring at your tits. Sighing at him you give him a ‘really?’ look. He does ultimately put your shirt back on you, he’s careful when he does. Not wanting to be too rough as he redresses you. It has you feeling weak for him, he’s always so careful with you, in little ways.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” he groans out, not looking forward to eating with everyone. He’d much rather stay here and have his way with you.

Taking his hand in yours, you both walk to the eating area together.

❆˖°

Lunch is… awkward. Everyone is side eyeing you and Bi-Han, he sat down beside you today. He doesn’t usually sit next to you, but now that everyone knows, he did. That introduced issues with the seating though, not the first ones to be fair. But Johnny and Kenshi aren’t allowed to sit either next to or in front of each other anymore, on account of their arguments that turn into kicking under the table.

So, Johnny is in his assigned seat next to you and Kenshi usually sits on your other side, but now he is sitting next to Bi-han. You can tell Bi-Han is unhappy with this, on all fronts, but mostly that Johnny is next to you. Though, if Johnny were to sit next to Bi-Han, you’d worry he’d say something to get bodily harmed, so you argued to keep him next to you. Furthering Bi-Han’s hatred for Johnny, but making Johnny feel special, which was not your intention.

But that is how you end up feeling very uncomfortable, the table is tense, and everyone is sharing looks with each other.

“Am I missing something?” Tomas says.

Oh God, no one has told Tomas, Johnny chokes back laughs beside you and you shoot him a look, telling him that he is specifically not allowed to tell him.

“We’re fucking,” Bi-Han says, motioning between the two of you.

Tomas has a shocked expression on his face, tinging pink as makes eye contact with you.

You have to take a deep controlled breath, your eye twitches with annoyance. Maybe it was better that Bi-Han wasn’t here the other night.

Head snapping to the side, you look at him, your expression one of pure anger, why would he say it like that? And why would he say it like that to Tomas???

He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t find anything wrong with what he said, “have been for a couple weeks.” Bi-Han looks up for a second, thinking, “in the courtyard, my room, her room..”

“Shut up, Bi-Han!” You say it in a hushed and urgent tone.

Johnny is trying so hard not to laugh but he finds what Bi-Han said so ridiculous and out of character that he can’t help but crack up.

Doing some more controlled breathing, you sit completely still and calmly say, “Johnny, if you don’t stop laughing, I am going to hit you.”

“Stop warning people, puts you at a disadvantage,” Bi-Han tells you, completely unbothered. You don’t think he realises he’s in trouble.

“I appreciated the warning,” Johnny interjects.

Ignoring the both of them, you attempt to control your blood pressure, how is this worse than the other night?

“Is that a comment from experience, Bi-Han?” Kuai asks.

Bi-Han looks at him, he doesn’t answer but his silence says plenty. Kuai looks amused at this development, finding it funny you tried to punch Bi-Han but gave him a warning first.

Kenshi adds to the conversation, “He’s right, if you actually want to land a hit, no warning.” He tells you.

“But that’s not nice, I don’t actually want to hurt someone,” you huff out. You give warnings for a reason, to give them a chance to correct the behaviour.

Bi-Han smirks beside you and says quietly, “sweet.”

Your lips downturn at Bi-Han, he’s made this much more messy.

“Was I the only one that didn’t know?” Tomas asks.

“Yes,” Bi-Han says, he continues to eat his lunch.

You tell Bi-Han, “You aren’t allowed to talk anymore,” Before addressing everyone, “I will talk, you will all listen.”

Everyone sits quietly, waiting for you, “Bi-Han and I like each other, we have been… together for almost a couple weeks now, I am not going to share intimate details of our sex lives,” you shoot Johnny and Bi-Han incriminating glances, “Tomas you are last to know, Kuai found out first and the others found out while you were gone.”

Tomas looks at Kuai, offended that he didn’t tell him about you and Bi-Han, you’d feel bad, but it wasn’t really any of their businesses anyhow. The only person you felt bad for was Kuai and that’s because he heard the two of you.

“We are adults, so I think we can all accept this and move on, yes?” You ask.

As you look around the table, they all share their agreeance, all except Bi-Han, who is still completely unbothered, eating lunch.

Liu Kang looks like he feels bad for you, “Your relationship is between the two of you, we will not pry any further,” he says very gently, trying to salvage the situation.  

“Yes, we are all sorry for being invasive,” Kung Lao says, very pointedly targeting Johnny with his tone.

“Don’t fault me for being curious! It’s an odd dynamic,” Johnny argues.

“It is not any of our business,” Raiden adds.

Bi-Han looks Johnny dead in the eyes, “She lets me do what I want, and she enjoys it, creams ar–”

“Bi-Han!” You cut him off, your face on fire. He looks at you, you have a very strained smile on your face as you say, “stop. talking.”

His eyes widen slightly, realising he’s upset you; he goes to speak more.

“No,” you say simply, shutting down further conversation. Your lunch has been finished and so you stand up abruptly, “Don’t follow me.” You tell him as you walk away.

Everything is silent as you leave, no one daring to talk.

Your plans for this evening have been ruined, you had something to show Bi-Han and you really aren’t in the head space for it now. In all honesty, you might be overreacting, but it doesn’t change how you feel right now, you need a moment to calm yourself.

❆˖°

Leaving the dining area has you feeling better, your skin felt like it was on fire. From both embarrassment and anger. You don’t know what was wrong with Bi-Han to be so upfront, the first time Kuai asked about your sex life he almost bit his head off and he didn’t even outright ask.

Now he is willing to tell everyone far more details – too many details. You need an hour or so, to process everything and calm down. Bi-Han knows how embarrassed you can get so it was unkind of him to be so blunt in front of everyone. The only thing you can think of is that he seemed a little on edge, maybe that’s why he said it the way he did but then why take it out on you?

The result is the same though, you’re upset with him. It was already uncomfortable for you, and you wanted him to help. It didn’t even seem like he tried to help, jumping straight to the nuclear option.

Going back to your room isn’t an option, you told him not to follow you, but you know he’ll be looking for you anyways. The first place he’ll look will be your room, then enlightenment rock, and probably most of the grounds. You decide to go somewhere he doesn’t know about, it’s a flower field that’s dead, has been all winter, the cold killing them and causing them to wilt.  

It’s where you wanted to bring him, but you decide to go there now, knowing it will take him a while to find you here. Biding your time, because talking to him right now won’t go well… for you. Talking things out directly after they’ve happened never ends well for you because if you haven’t had time to decompress, to get perspective, you might become overly defensive, or mean. And the last thing you want is to be mean to Bi-Han, not if he doesn’t deserve it.  

So, you sit in the middle of this flower field, allowing yourself to breathe in the air. What has happened, has already happened and you can’t undo it. But when you are ready you can talk to Bi-Han and try to understand how he was feeling in that moment. Sometimes you hate this about yourself, but you always think about the why. Why did he feel the need to say that, why did he choose that moment to say that, why doesn’t he seem to care, even though it embarrassed you.

Opening your eyes, you take in the flower field; it must have been so vibrant when it was blooming. It would’ve looked so, so alive. The beauty of nature and how flourishing it can look, how vivacious naturally occurring colours can be.

It never ceases to amaze you, when you think of how – just like people, nature needs the right environment to truly bloom and share its beauty with the world. You think Bi-Han is like a flower field, no one sees how beautiful he is, they don’t give him the right circumstances. But in small moments together, when you compliment him, or look at him with the most softest gaze, he blooms for you, and it is magnificent.

It takes him about an hour, but he does find you. You can’t tell if he’s pissed or relieved when he sees you. He walks right up to you, where you’re sitting in the middle of the flower field.

“I have been looking everywhere for you,” he says, straining himself to stay calm. Not wanting to worsen his situation.

“I know, I have been waiting for you,” you tell him, and then you pat the ground beside you, wanting him to sit.

He sighs but he sits down beside you anyways, “Why are you waiting for me in the middle of a dead field?”

“It’s what I wanted you to see,” you don’t look at him.

He’s looking at you though, intently, “Why would I want to look at a dead flower field?”

You smile to yourself, because yeah, who would want to look at a dead flower field. No one cares when the flowers are already dead, but when the time comes back around, this field will be gorgeous, and people will care then.

You ignore his question, instead asking him your own, “Bi-Han, you were rude tonight, and you embarrassed me, in front of my friends, why?”

“I… don’t really know, I was in a… bad mood and answered thoughtlessly, my intention wasn’t to embarrass you,” he’s struggling to tell you how he felt, this isn’t the type of confrontation he’s used to.

“It wasn’t your intent, but it was a consequence of your actions,” you tell him how it is. Sometimes people don’t mean to hurt you but that doesn’t change the fact that they did.

There is only one thing he offer you right now and he knows it, but you don’t really know if he’s capable of it. You think if this was anyone else, you wouldn’t hold their hand through this, but you don’t think Bi-Han is used to trying to make things better after he messes up. That and you think it could’ve been worse.

So, you ask him, “Why were you in a bad mood, Bi-Han?”

“I was… jealous, again,” he looks to the sky before continuing, “that Cage, he already pissed me off the other day by flirting with you, and then his invasive questioning of our sex life, and then he gets to sit beside you at the table, after being a little–”

“–Okay I can see that this is more of a culminative thing, rather than just earlier,” you gather pretty quickly he still isn’t really over what happened and everything else is just adding fuel to the fire.

You can understand his annoyance with Johnny, because you’ve been annoyed with Johnny, you just haven’t had the chance to properly ask him to stop, but you know if you do, he will. You’re going to have to prioritise talking with Johnny but that’s not to say all the blame is on him, Bi-Han still messed up out of jealousy.

“Tomas didn’t deserve being told like that,” you say, gently. You feel bad for Tomas, stuck in the crosshairs of Bi-Han’s anger.

He grunts at you, not agreeing but not willing to argue with you over it.

You sit beside him silently, giving him time to figure out what to say next. You can understand, kind of, how he is feeling.

He sighs beside you, “Will you look at me… please?” He asks tentatively.

Turning to look at him in the eyes you can see he does seem to feel bad about letting his anger get ahead of him.

“I misspoke and I am sorry,” it’s all he says, but it’s all you really need.

You don’t need him to overexplain himself, it undoes an apology in a way, trying to argue for yourself rather than just coping to your mistake.

“It’s not okay, but I understand,” you reply.

You both sit in silence again, you decide to break it with a joke, “You didn’t kill them, did you?”

He hums, “No, but I considered it.” He’s also joking, you think.

His hand moves slightly closer to you, you think he wants to touch you but is worried you’ll pull away. Shuffling your body closer to him, you take his hand in yours. He relaxes slightly at the contact.

“What did you want to show me?” He’s curious now.

You smile up at him, “If I show you this, you have to tell me something about yourself, it can be anything, but something no one else knows.”

He seems a bit hesitant, “Better be worth it.”

Letting go of his hand you adjust yourself so you’re sitting on your knees, turning to Bi-Han you see he’s watching you, “Don’t watch me, watch the flowers.”

He rolls his eyes, “There aren’t any flowers.”

“Just – watch,” you remark.

He huffs but looks out to the field, you turn forward again and place your hands on the ground. You focus your energy on the field, breathing slowly, you hear nothing – feel nothing. The field is dead, but as you release your feelings into the ground through your hands, you can hear the flowers sing to you as they come back to life.

Colours blooming all around you, the flowers standing tall as you thaw the Earth and allow the flowers to flourish. The sounds and feelings of the Earth coming back to life run through you, the afternoon sun hanging low in the sky falling on your face.

After the whole field is back to its most vibrant form, you sit back and look out at it. It’s not something you’ve attempted to do before, not on a large scale like this. You’ve brought back house plants and listened to the way the Earth hums, but you’ve never tried to bring back a dead field.

Looking over at Bi-Han, you see he’s looking out to the field, stunned at all the flowers you brought back in one go. You’ve not shown or really told anyone about your ability, only Liu Kang knows, and you didn’t exactly tell him. You don’t tend to tell people because it’s not something you feel is especially helpful in combat. Not like fire, or ice, you’re in tune with nature, you feel a deep connection to it, but it doesn’t go much further than that, as far as you can tell anyways.

“It’s beautiful,” Bi-Han says.

You ask, “Is it worth it?”

“Yes,” he has a small smile on his face as he turns to look at you.

Motioning for you to come closer, you move from where you are sitting and crawl over to him, flowers brushing against your skin as you do.

When you’re within reach he pulls you down to him and hugs you to his chest. You fall into his lap sideways, your legs over to one side as you sit on him, you look up at him but he’s looking out to the field. You tuck your head under his chin, ear resting against his chest. His arms are wrapped around you, holding you close as you sit on his lap.

He sighs from above you before speaking, “I trained hardest, out of Kuai Liang and Tomas… I was the eldest and next in line for Grandmaster… and I was pushed harder, given less leeway by my father. And I hold resentment towards them all, because I didn’t get the same experiences as them, I was being forged into the Lin Kuei’s weapon. They were children first and… they had each other.”

That’s the sadness you knew was there, the loss of a childhood, of brotherly connection, of any connection. This isn’t something you can relate to; you don’t know how to help him with this.

“I want to help… how can I help you?” You ask him, pulling back to look him in the eyes.

One of his hands cups your cheek, holding you tenderly, “You have been, you being beside me helps plenty.”

You lean into his hand, enjoying his touch.

He speaks, asking you, “Now you tell me something no one else knows.”

“I already showed you,” a small smile is present on your lips.

He isn’t satisfied with that, and you knew he wouldn’t be, “Doesn’t count.”

You huff out, “Mmm let me think.”

Leaning your head back on his chest, you ponder for a moment on what you could share with him.

“Sometimes, I worry that I am useless… like even when I try to be helpful, whether it be through my actions, insight, advice, anything… that it is not helpful. And I worry that I am only worthy of taking up space if I can be of service…” You pause for a moment before finishing, “I feel undeserving of the space I take up.” You bare your soul to him, because you truly feel that you’re not allowed to exist if you can’t offer anything in return.

His embrace tightens around you a fraction, “You are so useful, sweet girl and even if you weren’t, I’d want you all the same.”

His words effect you deeper than you would have expected them to, you tear up slightly at the affirmation that he wants you, useful or not. You tuck your head into his chest further, rubbing your eyes on his shirt to get rid of your tears before they fall.

Both of his hands pull your head back, looking into your teary eyes. His expression is so soft for you, filled with so much kindness, an expression you wouldn’t have thought him capable of a couple weeks ago.

“Sweet, sweet girl, my sweet girl,” he hums out, before leaning in and kissing you.

It’s a tender thing, he has no ulterior motives behind it, he just wants to gently kiss you. Wants to be connected to you. You accept the kiss, letting him do with you as he pleases, your mind filling with nothing but thoughts of how soft his lips are. How kind he is to you, how much you would be willing to sacrifice for him. Oh yeah, he’s stuck with you now, you think.

When you part from each other, he lays down on his back, taking you with him. You’re both laying on a bed of flowers, you roll off him and instead tuck into his side, he rolls to his side too, so he can look at you.

You tell him, “I think you’re a lot like this flower field, it’s why I wanted to show it to you.”

“And how exactly am I like a flower field,” he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Because, you’re beautiful when you bloom,” you say it with no shame, meaning every word spoken.

He looks a little flush in the face at your words, “kind words will get you into my bed.” He changes the subject.

You laugh at him but complain, “I have more questions.”

His head rolls back in an overdramatic way, he groans as he does, “Fine.”

“Favourite colour?” You ask.

“Blue,” he says.

You look doubtful of his answer, “Really?”

“Yes, what’s yours?” He turns the question on you.

Smiling at him you say, “The brown of your eyes.”

You’re mostly teasing him, but you also can’t think of any colour prettier than the colour of his eyes right now. The way the sun is setting is lighting his eyes up into a beautiful, honeyed brown and you think you could fall into them and die happy.

He rolls his eyes at you, “Flatterer.” He shakes his head at you, “Next question.”

“Mmm, who’s the smartest person you’ve ever met?”

He thinks on it for a moment, his face telling you that he doesn’t think he’s met any smart people, before his expression shifts as he has an answer, “My mother.”

That’s really sweet of him you think, he’s a mama’s boy.

“How about you?” He asks.

“Me,” you say, big smile on your face.

“What a cop out.” He complains but his eyes are alight with an amused look.

“I am asking the next question,” he says.

“Go ahead.”

You’re happy he’s actually getting invested in this little game, this is something you’ve wanted for a while now. Getting to know him is some of the most fun you’ve had in a while.

He considers what to ask, not realising how difficult it is to pick a question to ask off the top of your head, he eventually settles on, “What is your favourite feeling?”

“Oh, easy, earlier when I brought the field back it was silent because the flowers were dead but when I brought them back, it’s like they sing and the singing of life itself is beautiful.” You answer him enthusiastically.

You think about it for a moment more and decide to be very open, “And, when you look at me, it sends a shiver down my spine… that I’ve grown to enjoy.” The confession has you feeling bashful.

“That’s cute,” he pinches your cheek before the hand trails down your body and lands on your hip, gripping you there, “My favourite feeling is your tight little cunt wrapped around–”

“–Oh my god, do you think about anything else?” You exasperate.

His laugh is distracted as he shrugs at you, “Sometimes.”

You change the subject and ask him another question, “Favourite place?”

“Next to you… or inside you,” he changes the subject right back.

You groan at him and push him off his side and flat onto his back. He chuckles as he’s falling back.

The rest of the afternoon is spent together in that flower field, talking with each other and recounting old memories. Talking about anything and everything as the sun goes down. You think that this will always be one of your favourite memories, even if it did start with you being pissed off with him.

❆˖°

When you both return, you part ways, Bi-Han has to speak with Liu Kang and have a proper debrief about the mission. You on the other hand, want to shower and clean off the dirt and pollen on your clothes. Bi-Han promised to come to your room when he was done though.

On the way back to your room you, mercifully, don’t run into anyone and make it back without your mood being ruined.

The shower is such a welcome delight, cleansing yourself of the day and all the difficulties that came with it is a wonderful thing to be able to do. And when you’re done, you get to pamper yourself by moisturising and putting on comfortable pjs. It isn’t often that you get to wear some of your own clothes from before you were here, so it’s always nice when you get the chance to.

It’s also a bonus that you packed a matching set, ironically, it’s blue – you wonder if Bi-Han will notice or care. It’s very cute that his favourite colour is blue, something that you think, yeah is obvious but you didn’t know if he wore blue because of the Lin Kuei, his aesthetic, or if he liked it. Having him answer questions has given you some clarity and insight into him as a person and you feel so giddy about it.

You fiddle around your room, tidying away some of your belongings. Cleaning up the small messes that have been built up over the course of a few days. You’re stuffing around with some trinkets when there’s a knock on the door, it startles you and you fumble with the small jewellery box you’re holding, it falls onto the ground in front of the dresser.

You answer who you assume is Bi-Han first, “Come in,” you call out before ducking down to the ground.

On your hands and knees, picking up some of the jewellery that had scattered on the floor, you notice an earring slipped under the dresser and you arch your back, bending down further to reach under and get it, as your face gets closer to the ground to look, you realise a ring has slipped under further than the earring.

You can hear the door slip open and closed from behind you, “Are you kidding me?” Bi-Han groans out from behind you.

You hum in question at him, grasping the earring and then attempting to get a hold of the ring, it’s just barely out of reach.

Bi-Han comes closer, standing directly behind you, watching you struggle to reach the ring, “Great view,” he comments.

Ignoring him, you arch forward a tiny bit more and he whistles at you from behind, you roll your eyes at him and then your annoyance is replaced with a feeling of victory as you finally get the bloody thing out from under the dresser.

Sitting back up you lean on your knees, holding the two small pieces of jewellery up in triumph, you pack all of the spilt trinkets back into their box and stand up, placing it back on the dresser.

As you turn around, you’re met with the sight of Bi-Han in his night robe, his hair down, he seemingly has also just showered. Not to be overly dramatic but, you might die just from looking at him.

“Hello,” you say sweetly, enamoured by the sight of him.

He shakes his head at you, “Get everything from under there? Or is there more?”

“That was all of it,” you tell him.

He hums in disapproval, “That’s a shame.”

“How was the debriefing?” You ask, curious.

His expression turns annoyed, “Mmm, it was fine, rather not have gone, it was a waste of my time.”

“You think everything is a waste of time,” you jab.

He quips back, “Not true, you aren’t a waste of my time.”

“Flatterer.”

His expression turns mischievous, “And where will flattery get me?”

“Everywhere,” you give him an innocent smile, it doesn’t match the implications of your statement.

Moving closer to you, he grabs your hips, admiring the blue pyjamas you’re wearing, “You look good in blue, should wear it more.”

“I don’t own much blue,” you comment.

He shakes his head, “We’ll have to change that.”

Reaching up your wrap your arms around his neck, you want to kiss him but he’s out of reach and you’re stretched as far as you can go. He’s purposefully not leaning down, staying out of reach. It makes you pout at him.

“What? What’s wrong now?” He asks you, playing dumb.

“Will you kiss me, please?”

His head tips to the side, pretending to have to think about it, “Mmm, okay, since you asked all pretty like.”

He leans down and kisses you, effortlessly picking you up as he does. With his hold on your hips, he carries you over to the bed. When he reaches it, he turns around, so his back is facing it, he leans down and places your feet back on the floor. He continues to kiss you, it’s filthy, his tongue in your mouth, licking at you, his teeth nibbling at your lips. You gasp against his mouth as his hands come around and grope at your ass cheeks, holding handfuls of it.

Pulling back, he whispers against your lips, “I haven’t forgotten, you’re sitting on my face, sweetie.”

Your insides twist at his statement, you’ve never sat on anyone’s face before, you’re a little nervous about it. You want to protest but his hand slips inside your shorts to grip your bare ass, and he realises.

“No panties?” He asks.

You hum, “I didn’t ah, think they would be necessary?”

“Should’ve just been completely naked and waiting for me then,” he remarks.

“Thought you might like the blue.”

He groans in response, “and I do, but I’d like it better on the floor.”

He pulls his hair back into a bun as he speaks. The small act of him tying his hair back makes your desire for him grow.

Once he’s tied his hair back, he’s harshly tugging your shorts down, they slip down your legs effortlessly with the force he pulls them down with. You don’t get time to react properly, because he’s picking you up and chucking you down on the bed. A breath is pulled from your chest as you land on it, Bi-Han is crawling over top of you, he presses a tender kiss to your lips and then he’s manhandling you again. Rolling onto his back and pulling you on top of him as he does.

You’re straddling him in this position and he’s flat on his back. You understand now, he tied his hair back, so your knees don’t pull on it. You’re apprehensive, making no moves forward, much to Bi-Han’s dismay.

He grabs your thighs and tugs you all the way to his face, “Bi-Han – wait!”

A deep groan of protest is pulled from his chest, but he stops moving you, your cunt sitting so close to his face but not close enough for him reach, also to his dismay.

He has to put in a lot of effort to tear his gaze away from your wet pussy, “What’s wrong?” He huffs.

“I’ve never done this before,” you feel timid at your admission.

“Mhmm, thas fine, I’ll take care of you, just sit on my face and let me tongue fuck you. It’ll be good, promise.”

His words serve to set your face on fire rather than any comfort he may have meant them as. But his hands slowly stroke your thighs in a comforting manner, trying to get you to relax for him.

“’Kay, Mm ready,” you mumble out.

“’Atta girl,” He taps your thighs, letting you move this time.

Gently, you travel the rest of the way forward, your cunt right above his mouth, he doesn’t take his eyes off you. Appreciating the view, it makes you bashful, the way his gaze devours you whole, eyes filled with lust.

“Sit down,” he guides.

You lower yourself slightly, not sitting on him, scared to suffocate him. He let out a sound of disapproval, “Sit. All the way down.”

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” you protest.

“Trust me this is gonna do the opposite of that.”

You go to argue with him, “but–”

He lightly slaps your thigh at your objections, “–When I say sit on my face, I mean fucking sit on it.” He growls out at you.

You still have your reservations, but you sit down on him, it still isn’t your full weight, but your pussy is right on his waiting mouth. The feeling has a small sigh coming from your lips.

Bi-Han is growing impatient under you, and he rumbles into your cunt, he’s sick of going at your pace now. His hands wrapped around your thighs grab on and tug you down, a cry of protest is pulled from your lips but he’s stronger than you and he’s pulled you into a full sitting position on his face.

His tongue laps at you, the unfamiliar feeling has you shooting forward, hands grabbing at the headboard. Bi-Han moans out from under you, the taste of you, how wet you are, the smell of you, all adding to his own arousal.

He keeps licking at you, tongue entering your pussy hole, fucking up into you, his nose rubbing against your clit. The pleasure has you seeing stars, moans falling from your lips, ones that you aren’t particularly focused on right now. Too involved in the way Bi-Han is eating your cunt to remember to be quiet.

His hands move you back and forth, encouraging you to ride his face. Your thighs shake but you get the hang of it, starting to slowly grind back and forth on his face. The breaths coming from you are stuttered, catching on the moans and whimpers you’re letting out.

It’s loud and messy, the way Bi-Han eats you out, obscene slurping noises filling the room, your slick all over his face and between your thighs. As your hips gain more confidence, Bi-Han slips his tongue from your hole, flattening it against your cunt, letting you glide across it.

The new feeling has a particularly loud whimper pulling from your chest, he groans at the sounds your making, both your moans and the sound of your very wet cunt. This was all he could think about on the mission, and it was very distracting.

His hands stay on your thighs, helping your rock against his face and tongue. Your own hands grip the headboard tighter, your grinding speeding up, chasing your high that is right there.

Bi-Han groans into your cunt, loving the way you’re desperately humping his face. If you had any thoughts other than how good the pleasure feels, you’d be so embarrassed over how desperately you’re chasing your high. Using this beautiful man’s face to get yourself off.

His hands grab at your ass, spreading you cheeks and playing with the globes of your ass. Your moans increase in pitch and frequency, so fucking close, you just keep rutting against his tongue and nose. And when he hums and groans into your pussy again, you keel over, the force of the orgasm unexpected, a short cry pulled from your lips at the feeling.

Bi-Han encourages your grinding as you come down, licking up everything you gave him, the lewd slurping noises not stopping as he sucks at your cum. Eventually, you pull away, it has to be you that pulls away because Bi-Han would stay between your legs until the Earth imploded.

Shuffling back down his body, you sit on his lap, and he sits up, making sure you stay exactly where you are as he rests his back against the headboard, where you were just gripping. If you weren’t both so consumed by each other, you’d probably notice the light scratches your nails left in the wood.

Bi-Han has the most proud smile on his face, “perfect little cunt, always so sloppy and wet for me, could die between your legs and would die a happy man.”

You’re still a little fucked out from the orgasm he gave you, “Always say the most lewd things, Bi-Han.”

“Sue me for loving my girls pretty cunt.” He shrugs at you.

You crawl closer to him and press your chest to his, laying your head on his shoulder, “Thank you.”

He chortles at your comment, “For what?”

“Mm, good orgasm.”

“The day I don’t give you a good orgasm, kill me.” He says in the most serious tone.

You chuckle at him, he’s so silly, “Could never kill you.” You mumble against his skin, “Like you too much.”

He hums at your words, “Don’t tell me you’re already all fucked out?”

You shake your head, “Gimmie like 3 minutes.”

He huffs out an amused breath, but cradles you to him, hands stroking your back. As his hands move up and down your back, he decides he wants your top off and so he pulls it off. You let him, lifting your arms to make it easier for him.

Before you lay back against his chest, you pull his robe open to expose his chest, craving the skin-to-skin contact. You don’t notice but he’s watching you with so much affection, finding your movements adorable.

His hands hold onto your hips, giving you time to regather your faculties, but he’s growing impatient, as per usual. His hips rise slowly, mostly on their own accord, searching for your cunt. When he grinds up into you, his dick twitches in response, a groan pulling from him.

“Can’t wait any longer,” he declares.

He pulls your hips down to meet his, grinding your naked pussy into his dick, barely covered by his robe. Pulling away slightly, you untie his robe and open it properly, his cock pulsing and waiting for you.

Which you do make a comment about, “So needy, Bi-Han.”

“Don’t be a tease,” he grunts, not enjoying the switch in dynamic.

You hum out to him. Grabbing his cock, you leisurely pump it, giving him stimulation but nowhere near enough for his liking. His hand wraps around your own, tightening your grip under his, and he starts fucking into both your hands. His head tipping back against the headboard, groans and grunts slipping from his lips.

The sight is something to behold, your pussy drooling at the image of him fucking into your hand, head rolling back from the pleasure.

“Mmm, so pretty Bi-Han,” you comment, his cock jumping at the compliment, you smile to yourself at his reaction.

“Need your – ngh – creamy little – cu – nt – hah.” Words broken up by his gasps of pleasure.

You move your pussy right over his cock, his hand pulls away from yours in favour of gripping your hips, trying to hurry you along.

Your grip lets go of his dick, “Bi-Han, lemme do this,” you huff.

“Alright, jus – hurry up,” he groans.

Slipping the head inside is a whole ordeal, not having been fucked by him in a few days, you have to open yourself on his cock all over again. Moving down until you’re just taking the tip, Bi-Han sighs at the minute relief.

Your hole flutters on the tip of his cock, Bi-Han chokes at the feeling, “Ffffucken hell,” he grinds out.

You pull off him completely, before sliding back down and taking more of him. Bi-Han is biting his lip and clenching his hands into fists beside him, trying so hard to just let you do this at your own pace.

And you do take your own pace, pulling off him again but not sliding back down him, instead you lean down and spit onto the head of his dick, Bi-Han’s eyes watching you very intently. Groaning loudly when you grip him with your hand and stroke your spit up and down his length.

His cock wasn’t wet enough for you, but it is now, you reposition yourself and fuck yourself down onto him, nearly halfway. Your cunt spasming around his dick is like a gut punch to him, his self-restraint being tested in a very cruel way tonight.

Pulling up slightly, you keep him inside you, fucking yourself up and down on half of his cock, whimpers being ripped from your mouth at the way he fills you. Bi-Han has to tear his gaze away from where your pretty little cunt is sucking him in, afraid he’ll cum now, before he’s all the way inside. Not a fear he used to have but the way you grip him is so heavenly, he thinks he remembers, but then the next time he’s inside you it’s brand new again.

“Bi-Han, can you help please?” You ask, needing help getting to the hilt of him.

“Gods, fucken finally,” his voice is strained.

His hands hold onto your hips, picking your body up and down, helping you fuck down onto his cock. The way he manhandles you like a doll makes you dizzy. His grunts low in pitch as he fucks up into you, pulling you down at the same time. He’s still holding back, being as gentle as his resolve is allowing, not wanting to hurt you.

With Bi-Han’s help you take him completely, you’re sitting in his lap, taking his big cock, full to the brim of him. You slap his hands off your hips, wanting to do this yourself. He pulls his hands back, looking forward to you attempting to fuck yourself on his massive cock without his help, he knows, just like earlier, you will ask for help. Even if you have a very cute and determined look on your face right now.

Bi-Han’s hips twitch under you involuntarily, he’s needy, needs you to move, “C’mon sweetie, need yo – hah – u to move.”

“’ve never ridden someone before, gimmie a sec.”

A groan is ripped from his chest at your confession, his dick twitches inside you, loving the idea of being the first man you ride, his possessive streak making a return.

“Mm the first man you’ll ride, and I’ll be the – hah – fucken last too,” he says, grabbing your face in one hand, making you look at him.

His face makes your pussy clench around him, his eyes so needy, so possessive. The feel of your cunt makes him groan out. Hesitantly, you lift your hips upwards, leaving just the tip inside you before dropping back down all at once. It rips a moan from both you and Bi-Han, you almost go cross eyed, not expecting it to feel like that. He feels so much deeper than the other times, you feel so much fuller. Your cunt leaks around him an obscene amount, making a mess of his lap.

The absolute filth of the display makes you lightheaded, your eyes wet from pleasure and all you’ve mostly done is sit on it. Bi-Han’s ego grows tenfold at the sight of you, he’s going to make a smart-ass comment, but you lift all the way up again before dropping all at once. His moan is needy, so is yours.

You whimper as you keep that pace, slowly pulling up, leaving just the tip inside before dropping on him all at once, punching a moan out of him every time you do. All you’re really doing is working the both of you up, but you want to see if he’ll break, and he’s waiting for you to ask for his help.

Bi-Han is using every fibre of his being to hold onto his control, loving the way your face contorts as you spear yourself open on his cock. Loving your big wet eyes, you almost look like you’ll cry and it’s driving him feral.

His eye contact is so intense, you go to look away from him, but he tuts, “Ah, keep looking at me sweet girl, wanna see the moment – hah – you start crying from how good my cock fills you.”

You look back into his eyes, overwhelmed by everything. You stop your previous rhythm and instead hold him still inside you, clenching down on him. You can’t keep up that other pace, so you hold him inside you, and grind down into his pelvis, the contact on your clit has you gasping and fluttering around him.

Bi-Han’s head rolls back at the feeling, eyes going with it, his hips grinding up into your cunt. The sight of him alone has you deciding to cave, you don’t care anymore.

“Bi-Han, please… help.”

“Thank the – hah – ffffucken Gods!” He exclaims, gripping your hips tightly.

He plants his feet on the mattress and then he’s simultaneously pulling you up and down his cock and fucking it up into you. You actually do start crying from the pleasure, finally getting a consistent feeling of him moving inside you has you going brain dead. Eyes glazing over, still open but not seeing.

The image of your face switching into a fucked dumb expression and tears falling from your eyes brings Bi-Han immense satisfaction and pleasure, nearly blowing his load at the look on your face alone. The whimpers and whines coming from you not helping either.

Your nails scratch at his bare chest, your pleasured noises coming consistently, you don’t think you could speak even if you tried so you don’t even bother trying. Just let yourself get fucked down onto his big dick.

You’re cumming first, and you’re cumming hard. Pussy squeezing Bi-Han so tightly his pace slows, his need doesn’t though, he keeps fucking you through it.

He encourages you, praising you, “Look so fucken – hah – pretty cumming on my cock, Fffuck look at you – ngh.”

His thrusts neither slow down nor stop, he’s still fucking you like there’s no tomorrow, his cock aching with need, twitching violently inside you, his own thighs spasming slightly.

“Bi-Han you’re so – mmm – beautiful when you’re – hah – close, wanna put you – fffgh – in my mouth,” you tell him, making mindless horny comments as he gets closer to his own high.

“Oh – FFFFUCK!” He cums with a shout, it's sudden and catches him off guard.

Your mention of wanting to suck his dick arousing him to the point of orgasm, he grasps your hips and pulls you down, grinding you into his pelvis as he fills you with all his hot, sticky cum. The feeling of him filling you up making your cunt twitch around him, your thighs shaking.

He looked so good as he came, skin glistening with sweat, abs clenching as he twitched, his own thighs shuddering with his orgasm.

“You look really hot when you cum,” you inform him.

His dick jerks inside you at the compliment, “You look hotter.”

You lightly grind your hips down more, overstimulating him slightly, his response is a needy whine, his hands stop you from moving, “Gonna have to give me a second if you wanna go again.”

Moving forwards, you press your chest to his, skin to skin contact making your heart soar.

Humming you say, “Jus wanna keep you inside me.”

“Fucken – I truly think you’re trying to kill me sometimes.” He complains, though not really, he enjoys the things you say to him.

You press a kiss against his neck before you decide to give him a hickey, sucking into the pulse point on his neck, nipping at it as you pull away. Bi-Han doesn’t say anything and so you add another, to the front of his throat, and then one on his collar bone, and the other side of his neck. You keep sucking marks into his neck, chest, anywhere you can reach, when you’re finished, you lick up the length of his neck and take his lips in your own.

The kiss tastes like his skin and your cunt, he grabs the back of your head and shoves his tongue into your mouth. His kiss is fervent, filled with need and lust, you moan into it and his cock twitches to life inside you.

He grinds his hips up into you, but you refuse to move, keeping him still inside you, keeping yourself busy with his lips. He pulls you away with the grip he has on the back of your head, pulling you by the hair. You huff out at the loss of his lips.

“Now look what you’ve fucken done,” he says, referring to his painfully hard dick pushing up against your cervix.

You feel like you might melt around his cock, pussy creaming around him. You look him in the eyes, giving him an innocent smile but he knows better.

He pulls you off him, ignoring your whines of protest, and lays you on the bed, flat on your stomach. His hands spread your ass cheeks, looking at his own cum spilling out of your pussy hole. He groans at the sight, never not enjoying the image of you filled with his cum.

Grabbing one of your pillows, he lifts your hips and slides it under them, elevating your lower half slightly. He removes his robe completely, chucking it to the floor. Leaning down, he lays over your back, skin to skin, he enters you from behind in this position.

Fucking into you slowly, fucking his cum back into you. Your whines and sighs soft, enjoying the tempo he’s set. It feels intimate, his hands travel to your own, interlocking your fingers as he leisurely fucks into you from behind. Quiet groans and grunts falling from his lips at the feel of your slippery cunt. His cum is leaking back out of you onto the sheets.

His cock drags in and out of you at a slow pace, one that is pleasurable but as you get needier, you crave him harder, deeper.

Your need evident in your drooling cunt, lower halves getting slicker as time slips by, “More, please – hah – Bi-Han.”

“No, take it like this, greedy little thing,” he groans out from above you.

It feels like he fucks you like that forever, so close to the edge but never tipping you over it, his hands eventually travel back to your hips, he pulls your knees up so you’re resting on them and not your stomach. His pace picking up at the change in position, unleashing a punishing pace.

Skin slapping skin filling the room, along with the absolutely lewd, wet squelching sounds of your pussy. Getting fucked so well on him, fucking you back on himself, moving you how he pleases. Your face is pushed into the mattress and you’re dribbling against the linen, tears streaming down your cheeks again, the overstimulation almost too much.

Bi-Han is grunting and groaning above you, the most feral noises coming from him, you realise in this moment what he’s attempting to do right now, and you go to crawl away from him, not wanting to make an even bigger mess.

He growls out at you in disapproval, “You’re going nowhere – hah – sweet girl, gonna have you squirting on me again, ffffuck–”

“Mhmm, too messy,” you shake your head against the bed.

“You’re always messy, sweetie, got the creamiest ffffucken – ngh – cunt.” His words make your cunt spasm around him, “Ah, getting so fucken close aren’t you?” He observes.

You shake your head at him again but one of his hands comes around to your front and he lands controlled slaps to your clit, making your cunt spasm around him even more. One particularly firm slap to your clit has you cumming with a shout, the pleasure too much, making you tingly all over.

Bi-Han is ecstatic at the view of you squirting on his cock, it pulls his own orgasm from him almost as soon as it happens, he fucks you both through it, gritting his teeth against the force of his orgasm. Shouting expletives and your name in the same sentence, his own orgasm overwhelming him. He ends up freezing a portion of the beds sheets with his momentary loss of control.

You’re puffing against the bed, on the verge of passing out from your insane orgasm. Bi-Han pulls out of you slowly, careful with you as he separates from you. His eyes lock onto your cunt and the way it's spasming from your orgasm, pushing his cum out as it does.

He's mesmerised by it for a moment, using all of his remaining self control to not lean down and lick you clean with his tongue.

“You okay, sweet girl?” Bi-Han checks in on you when he catches his breath.

You nod your head, eyes closed, “Mhmm, might pass out.” You puff out.

He chuckles at you, enjoying the tear streaks staining your cheeks, and the absolute fucked out look on your face.

He tucks your hair out of your face and leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He leaves and comes back with a wet cloth, wiping up the mess between your legs. You’re mostly out of it but when you come back to, he’s redressed you in your blue pyjama set, he’s also back in his robe.

He’s lying beside you in the bed, carefully watching your face.

“Did I actually pass out?” you ask.

“Yes, was a little worried about you actually.”

You smile at him, “Cute.”

He rolls his eyes and pulls you into him, both of you on your sides facing each other, embracing. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“You’re changing the sheets this time,” he comments.

“Wrong,” you say.

He groans, “What’s in it for me if I change the sheets again?”

“I’ll give you head.”

He’s all too happy with that deal, “Done.”

❆˖°

Part five

A/N: Thank you so much for reading the whole thing! This update for some reason ended up being so long which is funny because I didn’t think myself capable of writing something this long when I first started writing, like 5k was a feat for me and now I’ve just dropped a 16k fic. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy it as much as the first three chapters!!! If you have any thoughts, feelings, questions, observations about the chapter, anything, feel free to message me! Requests are open and like usual after an update I will be working through a few of those before the next part <333

[mentally-gone002]

is it too early to love you? - part 3

(moodboard made by moi)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

summary: another case has reader flying to another city. she silently copes with not being in a relationship anymore but finds herself in spencer’s hotel room. 

a/n: i wrote all the parts so that’s why im releasing them so fast gang

————————————————————————

i woke up after my alarm. about an hour after. of course i woke up late the day after i was dumped. 

i quickly got dressed, made my hair look somewhat reasonable and then left, driving quickly through the morning traffic to get to work before i was late enough to make people worry.

but of course i was late, and it made people worry. 

as soon as i got into the roundtable room everyone’s heads snapped in my direction. 

“are you okay?” penelope was the first to ask, remote in hand as she was mid-brief with the rest of the team. her hand landed in my shoulder lightly.

i nodded at her and sat beside spencer like i always did. my lips pursed together in a smile as i looked at everyone apologetically. “sorry for being late. continue garcia.” 

she nodded, still worried, but she continued with the brief. 

“hey,” spencer followed on my heels after the brief. we had thirty minutes until we were expected on the jet. “are you okay? you look tired.”

i nodded at his observation. “i’m okay, spence.” i walked faster than him to stop at my desk to grab the go bag i have stashed there just in case i don’t bring my usual one. “back to back cases suck.” i sighed heavily to myself with a lean against my desk. 

spencer stood in front of me, just observing. his mouth opened like he was going to say something but he refrained, walking away to his own desk a few feet away. 

my fingers pinched the bridge of my nose, wishing i could look at him without being reminded that he was one reason my relationship ended last night. 

yesterday morning. 

i don’t remember what time. 

and those voicemails he’d left. they kept playing in my head.

the pocket of my jacket i still had on buzzed with an incoming call. i took it into my hand and read the caller name. 

james.

hesitantly i answered. 

“hey.”

“hi. i forgot something at your place so im coming by to get it.” 

i straightened up a bit. “i’m not home.”

“i don’t care, i can ask for a spare key or something.”

“it isn’t like a motel, the landlord isn’t always there.” i sighed in exhaustion. “i’ll leave the key on my desk here, you can come in and get it.”

“i don’t want to come into your work.” james sounded impatient.

my eyes traveled over to where spencer was staring at me. when he was caught he looked away. “i’m leaving for a case… again, so i won’t be in.” 

james is silent. “okay, fine. i’ll be there in five minutes.”

“okay, i’ll leave it under my mousepad. bring it back when you’re done.” 

“whatever you say.” 

and then the call ended. 

i groaned quietly in exhaustion and slammed my hand wrapped around my phone into the desk, sounding a loud thump through the bullpen. i got a few looks, which consisted of every set of eyes from the team on me, and i smiled awkwardly. my hand hurt from how hard i hit the table. 

“you alright over here?” morgan walked up to me in a slow stride. he had a look of concern over his whole face. 

i nodded. they were gonna pester me until they find out what happened and why i’m acting the way i am. “i’m good, morgan.” i assured him. 

he gave me that look of ‘i can see right through you’ but didn’t push me to say anything else. “we should start heading towards the jet.” 

i nodded and grabbed my bag, after taking my apartment key off of my keychain to leave it where i told james it would be. 

i followed close with morgan and the rest of the team behind me to the elevators. spencer silently walked to my side, so close i would bump arms if i moved at all.

the wait for the doors to open was making me antsy. i just wanted to be on the jet and get out of this city. 

the elevator opened after the usual signaled noise it made and james walked out of it. his eyes met mine and then went to spencer’s. i swallowed thickly. 

“key?” he asked. 

i gestured to the bullpen. “where i said it was.” 

he sighed, looked at spencer again and walked into the bullpen quickly. 

as i stepped into the elevator the team gave me a collectively strange look. 

“we had an argument last night.” i muttered, trying to ebb the tension they were making me feel. some of their faces softened at my explanation, but spencer kept on staring in concern. 

i avoided his gaze like the plague. 

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

spencer noticed i was avoiding him more than usual. the team noticed too. trust me i didn’t love the idea of being away from him. he’s amazing and brilliant and everything about him is just… 

my knuckles wrapped against the door of spencer’s hotel room. it was midnight, or later than that. 

i knew spencer didn’t sleep most nights since i had to double with him on one case and he stayed up until two in the morning working on that case. 

when he opened the door i quickly went inside, not even taking in his appearance or saying a word. 

“i didn’t think you’d be awake.” spencer told me. “what’s going on?”

i sat on his bed, shaking my head. “i’m sorry i’ve been avoiding you.” i looked up at him through my eyelashes, observing his late night appearance that was just plaid pants, a t-shirt and an unbuttoned knitted sweater. 

he shook his head dismissively. “it’s okay. we all have our own reasons for things.” 

i shook my head. “james said that you like me… or he guessed you do.” my voice was shaking and i didn’t know why. “we got into an argument about it last week after rossi’s party… and then i left for that case and when i got home he had packed all of his things and left.” why did i tell him all of that?

spencer lowered himself onto the floor so that he could see my face instead of staring at the back of my head. “he broke up with you because of me?” 

i shrugged. “you were one of the reasons… but it was mostly my job… and me.” i shifted my eyes away from him as the teary feeling appeared behind them. 

“why didn’t you tell me?” 

“because i didn’t want to.” i focused on him. “i haven’t even told my mom yet.” i scoffed slightly at myself as i hid my face in my hands. 

spencer wanted to reach out a hand as an attempt to give me some comfort, but he resisted. 

“i’m sorry,” i sat up and looked at something behind spencer. “i don’t know why i came here and just ranted about something you probably don’t even give a shit about.” i stood up from his bed and started walking to the door. spencer caught my arm with his hand to stop me. “what’re you doing?” i quizzed. 

he shook his head slowly, just staring me in the eyes. i stared back because i didn’t know what to do. his hand loosened and slid down my arm to hold my hand. “i’m sorry.” he stepped closer until we were toe to toe. 

i had to crane my neck to look up at him. he’s taller than james by a few inches. “it’s fine.” i whispered, watching him stare at my lips for longer than he should. i got that strange feeling in my stomach as we just looked at each other. 

spencer moved after some time, leaning down, almost in slow motion, and he kissed me. he kissed me and i kissed him back. 

in the middle of his hotel room. 

in the middle of the night. 

and i liked it. it made my head go quiet and my body feel all fuzzy. like there was tv static under my skin. 

but i pulled away in a rush. “we shouldn’t have done that.” i murmured, lips grazing his as i spoke. spencer breathed heavily and searched my eyes for something, anything that would tell him that i liked it. he must have found it because i didn’t even try to hide the fact that i did. and he took that as a sign to kiss me again. 

i hummed, slotting my lips with his again. over and over again, letting the taste of him corrupt my mind until i realized my hands were in his hair and his hands were on my waist, pulling me closer than what i thought was possible. 

“spencer.” i pulled away, moving out of his grasp. “i can’t…” 

he looked at me like i was the only girl in the world. but he nodded, understanding why. his hands fell away from me hesitantly. “okay… okay, i’m sorry.” he whispered. 

i shook my head. “it’s okay. i… i liked it.” i smiled slightly at him and walked to the door, leaving quietly to my own room. 

i didn’t know what to make of the night because so much happened. but i felt happy, for the first time in two weeks, so it was worth it.

and as much as i hated to admit that james was right, he was. because spencer wouldn’t have kissed me if he didn’t like me like that… would he?

[mydearestbeloved]

Chapter 15 when MC called Jinwoo is hilarious. I imagine that when the two get to the point in the story where they're in a relationship He would be so so scared whenever MC would be angry and go "Hunter Sung Jinwoo" bshsusjshhhhshw

EXACTLY! Just imagine:

_____

At a casual family gathering at the Sung household, the atmosphere is light-hearted, filled with chatter and laughter. The living room was always bustling this time around.

"Hunter Sung Jinwoo."

The moment your voice cut through the air; everyone froze. The temperature seemed to drop, and even the shadows lurking nearby tensed.

You stood in the center, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

Your husband, Sung Jinwoo—the strongest being alive, Shadow Monarch, defeater of countless enemies—gulped audibly.

"Y-yes, my love?"

The rest of the family quickly made their exit.

---

From a safe distance, the Sung family members observe the scene.

Park Kyung-Hye folded her arms, nodding approvingly. "That's my daughter-in-law."

Sung Il-Hwan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Dear, do you think we should...?"

Jinho scratched his head in confusion. "By the way, why does Noona call Hyung ‘Hunter’ when she’s mad?"

Kyung-Hye shook her head knowingly, smiling. "She’s got it under control."

"Beats me," Jinah replied. "Been that way since forever. Guess it's their thing.” She looked down and cooed, “Isn’t that right?”

“Baba!”

“Mm-Mama…”

---

Meanwhile, deep in the shadow realm, the shadow soldiers exchanged nervous glances, silently praying for their master. Silence reigned.

Munch. Munch.

All heads turned toward a certain silver butterfly, lounging in the air in her human form.

The shadows blinked.

Trick raised an eyebrow, mouth full of popcorn, like a chipmunk. "What?"

Beside her, her siblings continue the tea party, albeit their attention never left the system’s broadcasting screen. Red hummed, "The drama this time is rich."

---

You leveled Jinwoo with a final glare and deliver the verdict. "No cuddles for a week."

His face crumpled in horror. "Nae sarang! Anything but that!"

You spin on your heel and walked off, your pleading husband following right behind. "Next time, think before you leave the laundry undone, again."

---

Like a film reel snapping to a halt, you woke up with a start. The gentle flutter of your butterflies circling above, their soft hums a soothing melody.

"A dream...?" you murmured groggily, blinking at the sunlight filtering through the curtains. A lingering scent of roses in the air.

Red landed on your nose, silent greetings brushing against your mind.

"Good morning,"

What was I dreaming about again?

_____

May you enjoy this small treat :)

Happy reading, everyone! <3

[illiterateaffairs]

DISTRACTIONS III | YOU’RE KINDA CUTE

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T

word count: 5,528

summary: so you’ve just had a one night stand with one of the star footballers on the team you work for. you can be totally normal about it, right? 

A/N: ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO IS READING AND LEAVING THE NICEST AND FUNNIEST COMMENTS, I ADORE YOU ALL! this is kind of a long one, and i finally dip into jamie’s POV, which I’ll do more in the upcoming chapters. also as you can tell, this series takes place in season 3, but very loosely. like, roy is just going to have to deal with sharing jamie with the reader and not hogging him for training :)

distractions masterlist | previous chapter

Waking up the next morning is harder than you thought it would be. It's not because of the champagne flutes you were knocking back at Sam’s restaurant. In fact, you feel the most comfortable and well rested you have in a long time. It’s because of this that you absolutely loathe the idea of opening your eyes and getting out of bed when your alarm goes off at 7AM. Instinctually, you’re quick to turn off the grating noise, but when you begrudgingly try to sit up, you’re held down by a weight you don’t recognize. Opening one eye, you see it’s a person and their arm is wrapped securely around you. And not just any person; Jamie fucking Tartt. 

After pushing through your grogginess, you’re able to recall the events of last night; driving home with Jamie, kissing him and inviting him inside, sleeping with him. It was so out of character for you to hook up with a guy you barely knew. Sure, Jamie wasn’t a stranger and he wasn’t a complete jerk, but normally you wouldn’t even consider having sex until at least the third date. Not that you were planning on dating Jamie. That would be absurd. 

You didn’t regret it though. If there was one thing about Jamie’s reputation that he could be proud of, it was that he was indeed good in bed. Excellent even. It's probably why you slept so well last night. Even if Jamie came off as a bit self-centered, he definitely wasn’t when it came to knowing how to please you. 

Your eyes narrow, flashing back to a brief moment last night after the two of you finished round three. Did you say…thank you? God, you hope it was just something you thought in the haze of it all before falling asleep. 

Brushing past that, you angle yourself toward him more, as well as you can pinned under his left arm. Your eyes scan his face as he sleeps soundly beside you. He didn’t seem at all disturbed by your phone alarm a few moments ago. You’re not used to seeing the man so relaxed, because when you’re with him he’s either focused on playing football or annoyed with Zava. But right now he looks at peace. Glancing over, you also take note of his sleeve tattoo for the first time, tracing the designs on his arms lightly with your fingers. You’re once again confronted with the fact that you know so little about this man, and yet here you were in one of the most intimate situations you can be with a person. Observing his face again, you wonder what the two of you will do now. Jamie’s probably done this a million times, but you certainly haven’t. And you work together; you’ll see him everyday. 

You’re momentarily pulled from your anxious thoughts as Jamie lets out a long, quiet breath, but doesn’t wake. For a second, you’re distracted by how cute you find him in this moment. No. No. You are not getting attached to Jamie. This was a one time thing. That's all you wanted. That’s probably all he ever wanted. And you’re in no shape for a relationship right now. 

You take the risk to test just how heavy of a sleeper Jamie is, sliding out from beneath his arm. You mentally cheer when he just rolls over and continues sleeping. You quickly throw on a robe and some clean underwear before tiptoeing out of the room. In an effort to calm your nerves ahead of an impending conversation when he does wake up, you decide to make breakfast. Normally on work mornings you’d settle for something light, like toast or oatmeal. However, those meals will not take long enough to provide ample distraction from your racing thoughts. So, you decide in addition to toast that you’ll make some omelets. And bacon for good measure; Jamie probably likes bacon. You also wash some fruit because why the hell not. 

Everything is plated on your kitchen table when you hear movement from back in your bedroom. You’re pouring yourself a glass of juice when Jamie wanders into the room, buttoning up his shirt from last night. Before turning to face him, you psych yourself up and plaster a smile on your face. Be casual. However, once the two of you make eye contact, you both freeze and say nothing.

After a few seconds of silence that feel like hours, you force words to come out of your mouth.

“Apple juice?” Nice.

Jamie’s head jerks back in surprise, but a barely there smile forms on his face. “Apple juice? That’s what you’re offering?”

You shrug, deciding to push past how bizarre this is and try to roll with it, “What? It's the superior juice. Sorry I don’t have tea. I don’t really know how to make it- or care to- since, you know, it's disgusting.”

Jamie laughs softly, but gives you a curious look. You must’ve not done a good job at acting normal, because it seems he caught onto your nervousness, “You alright?”

You let your shoulders drop and decide to be honest, “I’m sorry, I just…I’ve never had a one night stand before.”

Jamie quirks an eyebrow, “You don’t say?”

You smile in spite of yourself, “I know, such a shocker, right?”

The footballer takes a moment to glance at the table behind you, “Well, first thing you should know is that most people don’t make breakfast for their one night stands.”

Despite saying that, Jamie takes a seat at your table and starts chewing on a strip of bacon. You roll your eyes playfully, but join him.

“I cook when I’m nervous,” not letting him linger on that admission you question him, “What about you? Do people usually stay the night after a one night stand?”

Jamie smiles through mouthfuls of egg and cheese. “Are you kicking me out?”

“No!” You assure too quickly, “I guess I’m just wondering what you’re thinking. And wondering how I’m going to look you in the eye at work to be honest. Like I said, I don't usually do this kind of thing.”

“I won’t tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about. And I promise it won’t be weird. We can just carry on and keep making fun of how annoyed Roy gets at Ted’s jokes.” 

You let yourself laugh as you push a grape around your plate with your fork. 

“But last night was okay?” Jamie asks, showing his first hint of unsureness, “It was good for you, yeah?

“Oh yeah,” you nod eagerly, touched that he was a little nervous too, “Last night was…really great.” 

“Good,” he smiles again, “Just want to make sure it was at least a step up from the last guy.”

You snort, “Try five steps. At least.” You turn back to Jamie and a satisfied smirk is growing on his face, “Oh, don’t let that go to your head. That is not a difficult accomplishment, trust me.” 

“Well, like I said, it’s good you left him.” You nod in agreement. 

The two of you chat for a few more minutes as you finish up your breakfast. You get up, wanting to grab a shower before work. 

“Can I walk you out?” you ask.

Jamie shakes his head, “I think I remember the way.”

You nod with a tiny smile as he heads toward the kitchen doorway, “So, I’ll see you at the club then later, probably?”

“You will.”

You bid each other a goodbye, but as you turn to put your dishes in the sink, Jamie speaks up again.

“Oh, and one more thing. You’re welcome.” Jamie shoots you a wink before leaving you alone. 

Fuck, I did say that out loud. 

You know you’re being paranoid but it feels like everyone is staring at you when you arrive at the club later that morning. There is no reason anyone would know that you hooked up with Jamie last night but you can’t help but feel your face get hot as you pass coworkers on your way through the halls. You’re so in your head that you fully run into Sam on the way to your office. You can hardly meet his eye as he enthusiastically greets you. 

“I hope you slept well last night.”

“What?” your eyes bulge in panic and you laugh awkwardly, “Why would you ask that?”

Sam gives you a weird look, “When you were leaving, you said you had been exhausted so I was just wondering if you were more rested today.”

You relax; you did say that. “Oh, right. Yes, thank you, I slept great last night. Amazingly. Not too amazing. Just a normal good night's sleep. Snug in my bed. Alone.”

Sam still seems confused by your energy, but nevertheless smiles again. He seems none the wiser as he jogs off to the locker rooms before training. However, once he’s out of your view, your eyes lock onto Rebecca’s who had been watching on from behind him. Her expression lets on that she’s definitely onto you. 

“Good morning,” she greets pleasantly, with a mischievous look, “Can I walk you to your office?” 

You don’t even try to argue as you lead her down the hallway in silence. You try not to roll your eyes as she makes a show of getting comfortable on the couch in your office. 

She wastes no time once you shut the door. “So, you had sex last night.”

You groan, lightly pressing your head to your office door, “How could you possibly know that?”

“I always know,” Rebecca shrugs, “You look a lot less tense today.”

You turn to her sharply, “You’re saying I looked tense before?” 

“Not in a bad way. You just look lighter today. And very suspicious.” 

You walk over to her, crossing your arms. “Okay fine. I slept with someone. But I’m not telling you who it was.”

Rebecca stares at you for all of five seconds before she says, “Jamie?”

You let out an exasperated sigh as you plop down on the couch, burying your face in a cushion, “How do you do that?”

The blonde woman gasps and sits up a bit straighter, “I was going to say it's a gift, but maybe it's a curse. Jamie was just a hunch, since he left the restaurant last night a couple minutes after you did. You actually had sex with Jamie Tartt?”

You peek out at her from behind the pillow, “Yes?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she sighs.

“What's so wrong about that?” you move to sit up, hugging the pillow to your chest. “I haven’t been with anyone since Mason, and the opportunity presented itself with Jamie. Don’t I deserve a good time every once in a while?”

“Of course but with Jamie?”

“He’s not that bad,” you protest softly.

Rebecca nods, “I know that. Jamie is a good guy. I just wonder if he’s good for you. When he was with Keeley-”

“Oh, my God, he dated Keeley?” you gasp, covering your face with the pillow again. Muffled you murmur, “Is she going to hate me?”

“No, Keeley will not hate you,” Rebecca assures, playing with a few pieces of your hair to coax you back up to her, “I’m sure she could care less what Jamie does. That’s my point - he was not a good boyfriend when they were together. 

“Well, that’s my point. I’m not looking for a boyfriend. It was just a one time thing. I just needed to distract myself from spiraling over Mason.” 

Rebecca still feels unsure, but she gives you a tight smile and nods. “That's fair.” She reaches out to take your hand, “I know you don’t like talking about it, but if you ever need to vent or talk through anything regarding your breakup, I’m always here. You know that I get what all that's like.”

You smile, giving her hand a squeeze. “I know. I appreciate it, but I think I’m alright for now.” 

“Good.”

“One more thing though. Can you not tell…”

“I promise I will not tell Ted.”

You grimace, “Okay, him too. I was actually going to say Keeley. I know that's asking a lot since she’s your best friend, but I don’t want to risk losing her friendship over a dumb one night stand.”

Rebecca gives you another reassuring smile, “I won’t tell her either.”

“Thank you.”

“Just call me Rebecca Welton: keeper of your secrets.” 

“Oh, my God, I am so sorry.” you sigh, “I need to stop doing things I don’t want other people to know.”

Rebecca laughs, squeezing your hand one last time before standing up, “You are fine. You’re young. You’re allowed to be messy and have secrets.” She smooths out her attire as she grabs the doorknob. “But you need to relax and stop acting so weird around the office. You had sex, so what? That's not a bad thing. You don’t need to shout it from the rooftops but you can be proud of it.”

“I’ll do my best,” you laugh. She nods encouragingly before heading out the door. 

You do feel yourself walk with your head held a bit higher after that. 

The rest of your work day goes a lot better. You help Rebecca with some paperwork, shadow the team during training, and round out the evening by having dinner in your office with Ted. The only time you saw Jamie was during their practice. He didn’t act out of the ordinary, so you didn’t either, both of you exchanging polite smiles like you always did. 

You don’t notice the way he looks over at you a few times between drills. 

Now you and Keeley were headed to the locker rooms, with coffees in hand, to assist Shandy with the Bantr video shoot. You’re proud that you play it totally cool and don’t manage to accidentally confess you’d hooked up with her ex last night. 

As if Father Time knew when you were coming, Jamie is the next player to hop in front of the camera. You smile unconsciously as he gets touch ups, before snapping yourself out of it to refocus on the conversation Shandy and Keeley were having. It was about Jamie of course. 

You start to find your cardboard coffee cup really interesting when Shandy comments on how attractive Jamie is. And you try not to sweat as Keeley starts listing off his red flags, only to follow up with comments about how he’s grown recently. You peak over at her as she looks at him on the monitor. Please, please don’t still have feelings for him. If you get back together I really won’t be able to look either of you in the eye. 

“He only thinks with his dick,” Keeley muses jokingly before continuing thoughtfully, “Yet, I don’t think he’s seen anyone in ages.”

You busy yourself by taking a sip of coffee so you don’t pull a face.

Shandy gives Keeley a look, “I just want to know if I can bang him, babe.”

You almost choke on your drink. 

“Oh,” Keeley manages a laugh, “I don’t know, you should probably ask him. It’s his dick.”

Shandy laughs along with her, nudging your arm. “What do you think?”

You try not to let your eyes become saucers. “Who, me?” She nods as if that's a dumb question - which it is. “I hardly know the guy. But like Keeley said, it's his dick. Consent is key.”

Shandy smirks, “Alright works for me. I’ll have to see what he’s doing later.”

You try not to be bothered by that. 

Later, Keeley and Shandy let you head out while they close up shop on the shoot. Most of the team has cleared out, but you say goodnight to the few players you pass on the way back to your office to pick up your things. You’re caught off guard when you find Jamie waiting in one of the chairs in front of your desk. 

“Hey, what’s up?” you ask curiously, shutting your door behind you. “Thought you left after you shot your promo.”

Jamie shook his head, “Nah, wanted to check on you first.” 

That makes you feel nothing. 

“Oh? Why?”

“I dunno. I knew you were feeling weird about everything this morning. Wanted to know how your day went.”

You smile softly at him, “I appreciate that.” You recall Rebecca’s pep talk this morning, “But, I’m feeling a lot better. In fact I feel great.” 

“Good, you should,” Jamie smirks standing up, “And just so you know, I had a good time last night, too. You were also much better than the last girl I was with.”

You almost feel flattered, before your face twists in disgust, “Please don’t tell me that girl was Keely. Not that I need to know where I stand in comparison to Keeley, because I really do not, but I do feel weird knowing you two used to date.”

While Jamie is amused by your nervous rambling, he also appears a bit dejected at the mention of his ex, “No, Keeley was not the last person I was with. You also do not need to worry about that. Keeley could not give less of a shit what I do anymore, I’m sure.”

Both he and Rebecca made a similar comment to that effect. You’re dying to know more but you know it's none of your business. So you give him a reassuring smile instead, “Okay, cool. How was the rest of your day?”

Jamie shrugs, “Not as good as it started,” he winks, “but alright I guess. Roy has me doing extra training between practices now.”

You ignore his cheeky remark, “Really? That sounds awful.”

“S’not so bad. If I want to be the best player on the team, I got to put in the work.”

You nod thoughtfully, “Well if it means anything, and I'm sure it doesn’t since I don’t know shit about football, but I think you’re already pretty great.”

An unfamiliar expression casts over Jamie’s face as he blinks at you. He awkwardly breaks eye contact before responding, “Um, thank you.”

“‘Course,” you let the silence blanket the room for a bit before you’re making a comment you know you’ll regret later. “So, I think you were right. Shandy definitely does want to take a bite out of you.”

Jamie lets out a surprised huff, looking back up at you, “What? Why do you say that?”

“She was really enjoying your promo video earlier.”

Jamie hums, nodding. “And what did you think?”

You shrug innocently, “I thought it was fine.” 

“Uh-huh. And if you saw me on Bantr, would you swipe right?”

“Not how that app works,” Jamie gives you a look and you give him one right back, “I think you already know my answer.” 

“Hmm,” he smiled, pleased with himself. 

“Would you-?”

“Swipe right on you? Thousand percent.”

“No,” you roll your eyes but bite back a smile, “On Shandy?”

“Oh.” he pauses, “Would it bother you if I did?”

You shake your head semi-quickly, “I’ll remind you, we just had a one night stand. I have no jurisdiction over any of your other nights.”

The side of Jamie’s lips quirk up, “Fair enough. Well, I will leave you to it then. I’d offer to drive you, but I have to meet Roy soon for another training session and he’ll be even more grumpy if I’m late.” 

“You’re going to train again?” you ask in disbelief as he opens your office door.

“Yeah.”

“God, I can’t even get myself to work out once a week.”

“I dunno, you were pretty athletic last night.”

You groan, shoving him through the door, “Okay, get the fuck out of here, Tartt.”

“I’m really glad we can joke about this.” 

“Get out!”

He laughs as he strolls down the hallway and around the corner, you unable to not watch as he goes. 

You can’t help but note he never confirmed or denied interest in Shandy. Once again, you try not to be bothered by it.

When you leave a few minutes later, though, you catch Shandy and Keeley in the parking lot, and note that Jamie’s car is already gone. This time, you try not to be pleased with this information. 

On Saturday, you join Rebecca and Keeley in a suite for Richmond’s match against West Ham. You learned this match was a big deal for two reasons.

One: Rebecca’s ex-husband, Rupert, owned the club. As soon as Rebecca introduces him when you run into him and his new wife, Bex, a chill runs down your spine. Even through forced pleasantries, he just oozes sliminess. 

Two: Their head coach used to be an assistant coach for Richmond; Nathan Shelley. A few weeks after you moved, Beard informed you that the man blew up at Ted for some reason. That was only after he leaked information to the press about Ted having a panic attack during the game. Beard made you swear you wouldn’t tell Ted that he’d told you this. Not because Ted wouldn’t want you know about his anxiety; you’d actually had a sweet conversation with him after the news broke last year, even confiding in him about your own mental health struggles. But Beard knew that Ted wouldn’t want you worrying about the Nate situation. So you promised his best friend you wouldn’t mention it. 

That still didn’t stop you from rooting for his- and Rupert’s- imminent demise. On the field, of course. 

You sneak away from Rebecca and Keeley to grab some locker room footage for AFC Richmond’s socials. When you arrive in the doorway, you look to Ted for a signal that everyone is decent before entering. The energy in the room immediately feels different than usual, especially following their win streak. You know they’re going into today’s game with something to prove. You knock on a locker softly to grab their attention and two dozen pairs of eyes land on you. 

“Hey boys. I don’t want to keep you, but would a few of you be open to doing some videos for our stories?”

A few team members including Sam, Zoreaux (who’s going by Van Damme now), and Jamie for some reason kindly volunteer, and you pull them off to the side. One by one, you have the boys record a video on how they’re feeling about today’s match, that you’ll post to Instagram. You don’t know if you do it on purpose or not, but you save Jamie for last. You hope he doesn’t notice the cadence. Now, just the two of you, he flashes you a grin before you record his segment. 

“Can I see?” he asks after you’re done, “Got to make sure you’ve got my angles right.”

You snort, but nod him over to look at your phone. You hold your breath momentarily as he leans in next to you. Nodding after the video replays, he turns to look at you, your faces inches apart.

“Looks good.”

“Yeah,” you breath out, “You’re a one take wonder.”

His lips turn into a smirk. Neither of you say anything for a while, as your eyes study each other's faces. You wonder what he’s thinking. You know what you’re thinking; his eyes are somehow really pretty in this terrible fluorescent locker room lighting. 

You blink for maybe the first time in sixty seconds as you hear Ted calling for the team to huddle up for a pre-game pep talk. 

“That’s my cue,” you whisper. “Good luck out there today, Jamie.”

His smirk melts into a genuine smile, “Thank you.”

You return the gesture before pulling yourself out of his orbit. You skip past the rest of the team, wishing them all luck. Beard and Ted give you nods and you high five Sam on the way out.

Back in Rebecca’s suite, you join her, Keeley, Higgins and some of Keeley’s coworkers. One of them turns out to own the company that finance’s Keely’s PR firm, Jack. After sipping on some drinks, your group settles into your box seats. You clock Rupert a couple boxes over. Glancing at Rebecca, you see that she’s noticed the same thing. You subtly squeeze her hand and lean over. 

“No matter what happens today, he’s still going to be the only loser between the two of you.” you quip softly. 

You’re pleased when you see her visibly relax. She gives you a grateful smile and squeezes your hand back. 

Unfortunately, her relaxed state doesn’t last very long. At half time West Ham is up by one. The match had been tough to watch. At one point, Richmond had the opportunity to score, had Jamie passed to Zava, but you felt your stomach twist when Jamie went for the goal himself and ended up missing. You could understand why he did it, but you wanted to see them win this game. You knew he and the whole team must be feeling the pressure three times as much as you were. You never thought you’d care this much about sports.

You and your friends try to make small talk while the teams regroup in the locker room, but everyone’s still feeling the stress of the game. Rebecca had even left to go who-knows-where to shake off her anxieties. Although, you get a moment of reprieve when Keeley asks Shandy if she’d gone out with Jamie yet, and the girl exasperatedly informs everyone that he turned her down. You manage not to outwardly smile. 

Everyone in your section is immediately alert a few minutes later when both teams start making their way back to the pitch. West Ham enters first, energy high, followed by the Greyhounds who look…less than thrilled. You can feel the tension radiating off of them from your seat, as they all seem to throw death glares at Nate. 

You’re not sure what happened in the locker room to cause this shift in attitude, but you hoped it meant they’d play tougher this half. 

Oh how wrong you were. 

The team was practically feral, pushing, shoving and literally throwing the West Ham players to the ground. You found yourself wincing on multiple occasions at the violence. You were shocked that even Sam was engaging in the aggression. By the end of the game, Richmond was down half their players and lost the match 4 to 1. 

You can barely comprehend what you just witnessed. After digesting everything, and hopefully giving everyone time to cool down, you let Keeley know you’d meet her and Rebecca out front, Rebecca having already vacated the suite, mumbling expletives in her wake. You head down to the locker room again to find the team in what could only be described as different states of denial. They also looked a bit…ashamed. 

As if sensing your presence, Jamie’s eyes snap up and land on your figure. Despite the fact that he feels like absolute shit right now, seeing you alleviates half of his stress. He nearly stands to meet you in the doorway, when Sam approaches you and you engulf him in a hug. Jamie’s nervous energy shifts into a feeling he doesn’t recognize. All he knows is he wishes there was someone that could comfort him after this loss, or any loss, really. But he doesn’t have the relationship with you that you do with Sam. Maybe if you got to know each other better, you’d consider him a closer friend; one you’d go to when you knew he felt shitty. One he could go to when he wanted to talk about something. Anything. But you weren’t those kinds of friends yet. He briefly wonders if you even consider him a friend, but he’s not lingering on that thought right now. 

He tries not to stare as you continue talking to Sam, before Sam leaves to hit the showers. You exchange what he imagines are words of affirmation with Colin and Isaac, too, before you’re heading back to the door. You pause and turn around again, eyes scanning the room before they land on his, as if that were their destination. He lifts his head out of its place in his hand. You only give him a sad smile and a head nod before you’re turning around again. You nearly run into Ted when you do. He watches as you and Ted exchange words briefly, before you squeeze the coach's arm and disappear around the corner. 

Jamie sighs. You’ve had sex with him and all he gets is a fucking head nod, while Ted Lasso gets a pat on the arm. 

He doesn’t think the day can get much worse, until Zava sashays into the room, with a disappointed look plastered across his face. He doesn’t waste any time hiding his frustrations with the team for their actions in the second half, as if he’s never done anything wrong in his life. Jamie rolls his eyes and heads to the showers himself. 

Jamie slugs through the rest of the evening in a daze. He barely registers going from the match to the bus, and then back to his home. He tries to find something on TV to distract himself from his anxious energy, but he can’t focus on anything. He briefly considers going out to some bar or club, but he’s really not in the mood. He settles on texting Roy to see if he’s up for a late night workout, but for some reason the guy chooses tonight to be a reasonable human being and tells Jamie to take the night off. 

He’s pacing around his living room when he gets one last idea. It's not a great idea, and he’s definitely going to regret it, regardless if it went well or not. But before he can talk himself out of it, he’s grabbing his keys and slamming his front door shut. 

You’re camped out on your couch as one of your favorite The Nanny reruns plays on the TV. You find yourself zoning out, though, replaying the events of the match. 

Sam had given you insight on what went down with him and the team. He informed you during half time, they learned that Nate had destroyed the Believe sign that hung in their locker room. While ripping a piece of paper hardly seemed like a reason to go full attack-mode, you understood when Sam explained that the sign, and Ted’s belief system, had been what began to unite them as a team a couple years ago. Your heart warmed at how much Ted clearly meant to Sam and the team, and while their methods may have not been perfect, you admired how protective they were over your uncle. 

You wonder how Jamie’s taking it. Even though you’ve become a lot more comfortable around him, you still felt awkward approaching him in the locker room in front of the team. But you secretly longed to ask how he was. Despite not knowing a whole lot about him, he always seemed especially attached to Ted, so you could only imagine how he’d taken everything this afternoon. Although, you don’t remember him participating in most of the fighting. He’d just played a bit more aggressively. 

You’re typing and retyping a text to Jamie, figuring out the best way to check in without seeming invasive. Before you have the chance to debate your words any longer, there’s a knock on your door. Your heart rate spikes. Who the hell would be knocking on your door at 10PM? You slowly approach the door, your mind making up some crap about London being a crime-free city to put your anxieties at ease. You quietly peek through the peep-hole. Letting out a loud sigh of relief, you unlock the door and pull it open. 

“Jamie, what are you doing here? Are you okay?”

The footballer gives you a once over before shaking his head decidedly, “No.”

Worried, you part your mouth to respond, but don’t get the chance when he’s suddenly cupping your face and kissing you, firmly but gently. Your hands automatically find his arms to steady yourself, as the two of you stumble further into your apartment. You kiss him back for a few more seconds, before parting slightly.

“Jamie,” you whisper in question against his lips.

“I’m sorry, I know you wanted this to be a one time thing but do you think you can make an exception tonight?” he breathes heavily, nestling his forehead to yours, “Today was shit and I just, I need…”

You nod furiously, not needing him to continue, “I know, it's okay.” You kiss him once, twice. “I can do a two-time thing.” 

He huffs out a laugh in relief before pulling you closer for an even more passionate kiss. He kicks your door shut before pushing you in the direction of your bedroom. 

Later that night when you’re both coming down from your highs, and Jamie’s laying on top of you, with his head buried in your neck, you hear him whisper cheekily, “Thank you.”

Leave it to Jamie to make you flush with embarrassment and laugh out loud, as your naked bodies tangle together. 

What a fucking prick. 

A/N: CAN’T WAIT TO HEAR WHAT Y’ALL THINK! also this gif, hello??

[malk1ns]

january 5 @ hurricanes, 4-3 OT loss

i cannot believe the season is halfway done. i can't believe i've actually written a fic for every single game, for forty-one games. that's crazy. thanks so much to everyone reading along, the comments and tags you leave really do encourage me to keep going—it's hard to work on a big project like this with no positive reinforcement! i love and appreciate you all <3

playing carolina might be boring AF but at least we got this picture of of it, hey? geno is so much bigger than sid it's truly ridiculous.

Sid isn’t very good at hiding what he’s feeling.

Zhenya knows about the narrative, how a Sidney Crosby quote is a lot of words but when you go back and actually read what he said it’s a whole bunch of nothing. That’s probably true; Zhenya doesn’t make a habit of looking up his teammates’ media spots. Answering his own questions and sitting for interviews is enough exposure to reporters, thank you very much.

But long before Zhenya and Sid spoke the same language, Zhenya was able to read Sid like a book.

Sid’s not subtle. When he wants something from you, you’ll know.

And when they’re getting ready to go out for overtime at the Lenovo Center, when Sid ducks his head and looks up at Zhenya through his eyelashes, Zhenya knows exactly what he wants.

It’s nice to catch up with Staalsy after they play the Hurricanes; frankly, it’s Zhenya’s favorite part about facing this damn team. Jordy’s waiting for them outside the visitor’s locker room after Sid is finally done with his cooldown, and they duck down a quiet hallway to chat. Partway through the conversation, Zhenya slings an arm over Sid’s shoulders, casual as anything, and smothers a smirk when Sid not-so-subtly tucks himself into Zhenya’s side.

Jordy doesn’t notice anything. He’s always been oblivious. It’s something Zhenya always appreciated about him. Kris gives them a hairy eyeball, but after so many years he knows when to feign ignorance, even if he’s far more observant than Jordy ever was.

Sid behaves himself on the way back to Pittsburgh. He keeps his hands to himself on the plane, sticking his earbuds in and zoning out on whatever podcast series he’s hooked on this month.

Zhenya taps his way through a few rounds of solitaire, nudging Sid with his knee when the plane begins its descent. When they’re deboarding and Sid makes to grab for his stuff, Zhenya bullies him out of the way, pulling both their bags down from the overhead compartment and slinging them over his shoulders.

Sid goes pink.

Their drive back to Sewickley is quiet, Zhenya navigating the dark streets carefully with one hand spread over Sid’s thigh. Sid’s parents are still in town, will be through the upcoming homestand, so Zhenya takes them up the hills back to his place, pulling into the driveway and throwing Sid’s Range Rover in park.

He crowds behind Sid as they walk into the house, dropping their bags as soon as they clear the threshold so he can get his hands on Sid’s hips, steering him to the staircase over Sid’s protests that they need another protein shake before bed.

(He refrains from making the obvious joke.)

Sid drops his feigned reluctance as soon as they get to the bedroom, turning in Zhenya’s arms and wrapping his arms around Zhenya’s neck, tugging him down for a kiss.

The first time Sid kissed Zhenya, it took both of them by surprise. It was Zhenya’s second year in the league, and not even any sort of special occasion—they’d just beaten Boston in TD Garden, a hard-won shootout on the first half of a back-to-back with travel in the slog leading up to their too-short Christmas break. He and Sid both had to do media, courtesy of Geno’s two goals and Sid’s three points, and they were the last ones in the locker room after they finally escaped to do their cooldown and get showered.

Zhenya was fumbling with his tie when Sid crossed the room, got up on his toes, and smeared a kiss across Zhenya’s mouth.

They didn’t talk about it for months. There were games to win, after all, and playoffs to push for. They were both determined to have a better showing than they had last season. It wasn’t until after they had to watch the Red Wings raise the Stanley Cup in their own building, after locker clean-out and the last media of the season, that Sid showed up at Zhenya’s door with a determined look on his face.

Their second kiss hadn’t been any more artful than the first. It didn’t take them long to get good at it, though.

Really good. They’ve taken breaks throughout the years, arguments and ego and fear of the future sending one or both of them stomping away from the relationship, and Zhenya’s seen plenty of girls stumble out of dark corners with Sid looking dazed with swollen mouths. He kisses like the world is ending, all-consuming and intense, and Zhenya’s more than happy to fall into it every time.

Sid doesn’t want to just kiss tonight, though. His hand sneaks down and squeezes at Zhenya’s dick through his dress pants, and Zhenya cants his hips forward, letting Sid grope him.

“Fuuuck,” Sid groans, pulling back and looking down between them. Zhenya follows his gaze.

Sid’s not a small guy. He’s broad, with thick arms and legs and big, capable hands, clever fingers that are adept at taking Zhenya apart. His hand on Zhenya’s dick where it’s straining at the fabric, though, looks almost small.

“Jesus,” Sid mutters, stroking a thumb over the head. Zhenya shivers as his dick twitches.

They’re clumsy as they undress, the late hour and a long, heavy game slowing their reflexes, but eventually their clothes are in a pile at the foot of the bed and Zhenya has Sid stretched out on the mattress, pinning his hands over his head with one hand around both wrists.

Sid takes a deep breath, testing Zhenya’s grip. Zhenya watches his throat bob as he swallows and tightens his thighs where they’re around Sid’s hips.

“You’re stay put,” he says to Sid, half an order and half a question, and he can see his words register, leaching into Sid’s body and dropping all the tension from his muscles.

Sid’s hard between them already, dick curving up toward his belly button and damp at the head, and when Zhenya curls his hand around it Sid gasps, craning his chin down so he can look.

Sid’s hands might be big compared to a regular guy, but Zhenya’s put his to shame, and Sid’s dick looks small in his grasp.

Zhenya knows that turns Sid’s crank, even though he’ll never admit to it. Hockey players are all the same, after all, and none of them are going to own up to getting off on their dick looking small, but Zhenya’s never needed Sid to actually say anything to know what he wants.

Sid likes how much bigger Zhenya is than him. He likes the way Zhenya’s hands span his waist like it’s dainty, the way he fits under Zhenya’s arm like Zhenya’s girlfriends used to.

He especially likes Zhenya’s dick.

Zhenya lifts up a little and shifts so that Sid can spread his legs, settling between them and rubbing his dick over Sid’s balls and shaft. Sid props himself up on his elbows, mouth open as he pants for air, hitching his hips up to meet Zhenya’s movements. 

Zhenya spares a moment for regret that they don’t have time to fuck properly until the homestand is over. Sid’s so tight, even after all these years, and sinking into him is the closest to a religious experience that Zhenya’s ever had.

He props his forearms on either side of Sid’s head, leaning down so he’s completely covering Sid’s body, pressing their chests together as he mouths at Sid’s neck. Sid always leaks so much, like the second he gets even a little worked up he’s ready to bust, which means they don’t need lube when they do this.

When they were younger, they used to get off like this every spare minute they had, sneaking off to spare rooms and rubbing up against each other until they came. It only took one instance of having to misappropriate a fancy hand towel in Billy Guerin’s guest bathroom for Zhenya to start carrying around a handful of tissues in his back pocket for quick clean-ups.

They usually take their time now, luxuriating in the privacy of their own homes and the improved technique that comes with experience, but sometimes Zhenya likes to make it quick and dirty, likes to get Sid panting and begging for dick underneath him.

Zhenya can’t give it to him tonight. The waiting will make it better when they have time, though.

Sid’s getting close. His thighs are trembling where they’re locked around Zhenya’s waist, and he’s tossing his head back and forth, little uh-uh-uhs pushing from his chest as he arches his back.

Zhenya pushes himself up a little and rests his hand on Sid’s neck, curling his fingers and pressing his thumb to the hinge of Sid’s jaw. Not much, not enough to actually do anything, but his hand looks enormous at Sid’s throat, and when he increases pressure the tiniest bit, Sid gasps and comes with a shout.

He’s still shivering through his orgasm when Zhenya drags his dick over Sid’s groin, smearing come into his pubic hair, and groans as he finishes on Sid’s stomach.

“Damn,” he says, rolling off to one side. Sid tucks them together, yanking Zhenya’s arm until his hand is splayed low over Sid’s belly.

It’s sticky and kind of gross. Zhenya rubs their come into Sid’s skin, ignoring Sid’s protest.

His hand really does look huge on Sid’s body. Normally he doesn’t think too much about it; he’s aware of how tall he is, how big his dick is, and those facts on their own don’t do much for him. He’s happy to go along with what Sid wants—seeing Sid get off on something is what gets him hottest.

Sid’s a grower, though, and when he’s soft Zhenya can cover his entire groin with his palm.

Sid grunts as Zhenya fondles him, wincing and over-sensitive, but Zhenya ignores it, rolling Sid’s balls in his fingers and palming his soft member.

Yeah, he sees the appeal.

[lodeddiperactivate]

I hate you more! | Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Author's note: So not sure if people still read Rodrick Heffley fics but I had this idea (and could not find something similar that's already written) where the reader decides to sabotage Rodrick from getting it on with Heather. Reader is at the top of the highschool food chain and is friends with Heather, but hates Rodrick so she sabotages him. A classic enemies to lovers!

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

You feel like you've been living a double life. You get straight As because, well, your allowance is tied to your grades. But what most people don't know is that you typically sneak out at night to hang with your boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend. You smoke, you party, you skip town without your parents ever knowing. But during the day, you looked like someone who goes to church every Sunday. In fact, you're quite impressed at how you're handling this double life. You learned, at a young age, that all there is to life is observing the people around you, and using those observations to your advantage.

Well, you thought to yourself, it's time to test these theories all over again as you move into a new town, new school, new classmates, and new friends. Unfortunately for you, your new neighbor doesn't seem to grasp the idea of a nice and quiet Sunday morning. You decided to pay them a visit, and maybe remind them that their garage isn't soundproof enough for the noise coming out of it.

You walked up to the door and gave 3 loud and firm knocks, waited a couple of seconds until you hear footsteps.

You expect the mom to open the door, which is why you brought cookies as a means to be a good new neighbor but you were greeted by a tall and dark-haired guy with eyeliner. He eyed you up and down in frustration before landing his gaze on the plate of cookies in your hand.

"What do you want?"

You forced yourself to be civil. "I just came here to give you cookies. We just moved in next door when I heard this sound coming from-"

"Yeah yeah, thanks for the cookies!" And with that, he slammed the door in your face. The audacity! You scoffed and started to walk away. The noise had not died down, and you walked away not believing how rude and ill-mannered your new neighbor was. God, if it means hearing this noise every weekend, you might beg your parents to move again.

~

First day of school. You were pretty confident with your social skills so highschool is a cake walk for you. Living a double life means you ought to know how to act in certain situations.

First period. You were introduced to the whole class. Your introduction was amazing. Everybody loved you. You had come into that room, dressed to impressed, and you even cracked a joke that made everyone laugh. Well, everyone except for your neighbor who's in all of your classes by the way. He was too busy talking about his band to basically anyone who's not deaf. What's worst is that you're sitting behind him.

Because of your peak social skills, you were sitting with Heather that day for lunch and apparently, they're at the top of the highschool food chain so that works for you too. You also learned that your neighbor, Rodrick, obviously had a crush on Heather. Since you sit behind him, and Heather sits beside him, you have observed all of the tell-tale signs that he's desperately in love with her. You smirked at the idea, and the endless possibilities of making his life a living hell.

~

School bell rang and everyone hurriedly packed their belongings. Heather asked if you wanted to go to the mall. You agreed and she told you to meet her upfront. Rodrick obviously heard this, and based from his expression, he was surprised that Heather and you are that close already. When everyone had left the room, you called out to Rodrick to set your plans of destroying his life in motion.

"Hey"

"Heyyy," he asked, curious why you were talking to him after he slammed the door in your face. He decided that it would be nice to at least be on your good side since you're friends with Heather so he started with an apology, "Listen, about what happened, I'm sorry but Sunday is the only time I can practice with my band. It's hard work, you know."

You smirked at his half-ass apology but mostly because you can see right through him, but you had a mission, "Oh don't worry about it! Actually, I wanted to tell you that Heather has a message for you."

As soon as you mentioned Heather's name, it was like something inside him had turned on. "Yes?"

"She's too shy to tell you this herself but she kinda has a crush on you. But she can't be too obvious because you know, in dating, guys make the first move, right?"

"Yeah," he said trying to comprehend every word you just uttered.

"Yes, so she doesn't want to go out with someone who did not officially ask her out. You know?"

"Yeah!" He said again as if he had solved a puzzle in his head.

"Okay, so tomorrow at lunch, why don't you "officially" ask her out?"

"Yeah?"

Jesus. You couldn't comprehend how slow this moron is in front of you. You were practically spoon-feeding him. You decided to repeat what you said just to make sure he gets it.

"Tomorrow. At lunch. Ask Heather out?"

"Yes. Okay, I can do that." He said trying to hype himself up.

You walked away feeling good about your plan when you decided to add one final touch to it. You looked back and called out to Rodrick.

"Oh, and don't forget, Heather looooves grand gestures!"