queerstudiesnatural

[prinvessdior]

Three times you ask Kinich for something and the one time he asks for something.

tags: first person soz, bff! Mualani, I forgot ab Ajaw lol, y/n has a vision, established relationship, first kiss, just cute as hell, ft. me trying to write romantic tension.

wc: 3.6k

a/n: idk,, i think he needs more fics but yes crossposted on ao3 still editing as well

feel free to leave me req or msgs for any charc <3!

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

I think this was the fifth time I had water up my nose this afternoon. Or maybe it was the sixth, definitely. My nose and throat burned as I gasped for air above the water. My surfboard flung up beside me with another slap of water to my face. I hoisted myself back up to sit over my borrowed board. Mualani let me borrow one of her old ones from childhood. Since I'd never been able to surf. I wrung out my hair over my shoulder. "This is so hard," I whined to Mualani who padded over on her own board over to me.

Mualani only laughed, laying down on her stomach, "You're doing fine for a beginner." I doubted it. "Keep practicing, maybe you could finally convince Kinich to come to swim." 

I snorted and rolled my eyes, "Yeah like that'll happen."  

Mualani giggled, "He's a lost cause. Maybe if you asked him nicely, he might change his mind," she teased, sending me a look with a knowing smile. 

"I don't think a simple 'please' will do the trick," I retorted, paddling my board backward in the shallows. "He'd probably just come up with some excuse like 'I don't want to get my clothes wet' or something, and then go back to what he was doing," I grumbled.

Mualani snickered. "He can be such a diva sometimes. It's like he's scared to have any fun. I don’t know how you can date a guy like that."

She was being dramatic. He wasn’t that bad. I’ve known practically everyone since I was a kid, I know the ins and outs. Kinich just.. more so liked to keep to himself. I didn’t mind it though it really seemed like we had just become really good friends now even after putting a relationship title on us. 

"Though I'm sure he'd do anything you asked," Mualani says with a nod

I quickly looked away.

"Don't be ridiculous," I mumbled, "Kinich doesn't listen to anyone, let alone me." I quickly looked away.

Mualani gave me a knowing smile. "Oh come on, don't pretend you haven't noticed the way he looks at you. That boy is absolutely smitten with you."

I tried to feign indifference, though my heart thumped in my chest. "He doesn't look at me any differently than he looks at everyone else."

Mualani raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious? He's practically drooling every time you're around. And he always insists on helping you with anything you need, no matter how menial."

I shifted uncomfortably in my waterlogged swimsuit. "That's just who he is. He's like that with everyone. He's just...a good guy." I don’t think I wanted to spill my guts with my best friend about my relationship just yet.

Mualani rolled her eyes. "You can be so clueless sometimes. Trust me on this."

I huffed, pushing my soaked hair out of my eyes. "Even if you're right, which you're not, I doubt he'd ever actually do anything about it. Kinich is too aloof to make a move."

Mualani smirked. "That's where I think you're wrong. I've seen the way he stares at you when you're not looking. That boy has it bad. If you ask me, he's just been waiting for the right moment.”

I narrowed my eyes with a laugh, "Sure, and dendro slimes will fly someday. Besides, I can't even imagine Kinich acting all romantic. He's too sarcastic and quippy for mushiness."

Mualani shrugged. "Maybe you should try giving him a hint then. See if he responds. I know he'd be all over you in a heartbeat if he thought he had a chance."

"I don't know, Mualani...he's always been so closed off. It wouldn’t feel natural."

Mualani grinned. "Well, you could always try being a bit more... flirtatious. Give him some nonverbal cues to let him know you're interested. A touch on the arm, a smile, a compliment, something like that. See how he responds."

"Yeah, nope," I said with a determined nod, I'd give up my pyro vision back to our archon before doing something as embarrassing as that.

“C'mon! What’s the harm in it?”

I gave Mualani a pointed look, “The harm is we’ve only been together three months.” 

Mualani groaned, “But you’ve been friends for years!” She emphasized by splashing me with water.

I splashed her back, “I don’t expect anything from Kinich, Lani, I’m fine with what we have now.” 

“Yeah, but, did you ask him that? Maybe he wants to be closer with you.” 

Okay, yeah maybe I hadn’t thought about that. I paused mid-splash attack. “Oh.” 

Another splash of water to my face, as I tipped sideways losing balance sitting on my surfboard. I tipped straight into the water making another splash for the seventh time. 

Mualani was laughing when I arose from the surface. “Just try it. It’s not like he’ll outright reject you.” 

I gave Mualani a glare, “I’m going to go change. I’m done learning today.” 

“Ouchie, you really know how to burn me.” Mualani sighs with a dramatic expression. 

“Insanity.” I mumbled padding back to the shore with my best friend trailing behind me. Still making dramatic plans about how to get my boyfriend to be more open. I was not listening as she rambled all the way back to my house. 

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

I liked living right beside the hot springs. Even the ones that weren’t heated were usually the ones I gravitated towards. Given that Natlan was already hot, I never remembered my normal body temperature being this hot before I received my Pyro vision. 

But right now, I think I was jealous of Cyro Vision users. Kachina had requested my help near her tribe. She wanted to collect flowers among herbs, and fruits for the traveler to help her gain enough confidence to enter into the night warden wars. 

But it was too hot, and I was craving a bath. Being drenched in sweat was horrible. I didn’t want to complain in front of Kachina so I continued to follow her, we’d strayed far from The Children of The Echo’s tribe. 

“Do you think this is enough?” I asked the smaller girl once we’d stopped near a stream. 

“Uh-! I-.. I think so!” Kachina reached her arms up to take the fruits nestled in my bag. I happily let her take it as I took a seat near the stream for a much-needed breather. 

“Great, I’m just gonna.. sit down for a while.” 

Kachina gave me a nod with a bright smile. Which in turn made me smile. I felt like a big sister whenever I was with Kachina. It made it better that she was so smart and easy to talk to. I closed my eyes as a gust of wind helped cool my sweltering face. 

Kachina sat down beside me, dipping her toes into the water. “Thank you for helping me today, I really appreciate it.”

I smiled, grateful for the respite. “Of course, Kachina. It’s the least I can do. The Traveler did so much for you.”

She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah, they really did. I wouldn’t have had the courage to join the Night Warden Wars without their support.”

We sat by the stream, the cool water lapping at my feet, and my mind drifted back to what Mualani had said the day before. Could it really be that simple? Just say please? I found myself lost in a whirlwind of emotions as the cool water of the stream rippled around me. 

“Y/n? Y/n!” Kachina’s voice broke through my reverie, pulling me back to the present.

”Huh.” I blinked, realizing she was talking to someone. I turned to see Kinich standing there, looking a bit awkward but smiling warmly. 

“Hey, Y/n,” he greeted, his voice a little uncertain. “Are you okay?”

I forced a smile, trying to shake off my embarrassment. “Oh, hey, Kinich. Yeah, I’m fine. Just, you know, dying of the heat,” I joked, fanning myself dramatically.

He chuckled, his eyes softening. “Yeah, it’s pretty brutal today.” He turned to me and narrowed his eyes. “Should you really be out here for much longer? You don’t look so good.”

Before I could respond, Kachina’s face fell, and she quickly apologized. “Oh no, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you weren’t feeling well. I shouldn’t have taken you so far.”

I shook my head, giving her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Kachina. I wanted to come out and help you. Really.”

She still looked worried, but I could see she was trying to believe me. I took a deep breath, deciding albeit hesitantly that if I were to test Mualani’s theory. Any time would be the best time “Kinich, could you please get me some water from the stream? I think it would help me cool down.”

To my surprise, he didn’t hesitate. Without a single sarcastic comment or playful tease, he nodded and walked over to the stream. The next thing I felt was the cool, wet rag on my forehead, and sighed in relief. Kinich's gentle touch was comforting as he helped me sit back down. My body was still cooling off from Natlan’s scorching heat.

"Thank you, Kinich," I said, looking up at him with a small smile.

He smiled back, though it was more a twitch of lips upwards, his eyes warm. "It was no problem at all. Just take it easy for a bit."

I nodded, leaning back into the grass. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kachina watching us. She seemed to be trying hard not to look awkward, and I couldn't help but find it endearing.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" Kachina asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

"Yeah, I think so," I replied, giving her a reassuring smile. "Just a bit... overwhelmed, I guess."

Kachina nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly. "You two are really cute together," she blurted out, then immediately looked like she regretted it.

Kinich chuckled softly, and I felt my own cheeks flush. "Thanks, Kachina," I said, trying to ease her embarrassment. 

She smiled, looking a bit more relaxed. "Well, if you need anything, I'm here to help."

"Thanks," I said, appreciating her kindness. "I think I'll be okay now."

Kinich gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "Just rest for a bit. I'll be right here."

I nodded, feeling a little lightheaded. Not from the heat though. As I leaned back, feeling the coolness of the rag on my forehead, my mind wandered to Mualani’s words. Maybe she was right.

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

A couple of days later, I found myself in Xilonen’s shop, surrounded by shelves filled with various trinkets and artifacts. The air was filled with the scent of herbs and old parchment, a comforting reminder of the past. Xilonen and I were busy organizing her shop, a task that felt both familiar and soothing.

“Thanks for helping out, Y/n,” Xilonen said, her voice warm. “I’ve been meaning to get this place in order for ages.”

“No problem,” I replied, placing a stack of scrolls on a nearby shelf. “It’s nice to catch up. We haven’t had much time together since the war ended.”

She nodded a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Yeah, things have been so hectic. But it’s good to see you. How have you been holding up?”

I shrugged, trying to keep my tone light. “I’ve been okay. Just trying to figure things out, you know?”

Xilonen smiled knowingly. “I get it. It’s been a strange time for all of us. But I’m glad you’re here. It feels like old times.”

We continued to work in comfortable silence for a while, the rhythm of our movements almost meditative. As we sorted through a box of ancient artifacts, Xilonen suddenly looked up, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “So, I heard a little rumor that you and Kinich are dating now. Is it true?” Probably from Mualani...

I felt my face heat up slightly but nodded. “Yeah, it’s true.”

Xilonen grinned. “I knew it! How’s that going? I mean, considering how Kinich… is.”

I chuckled, understanding what she meant. “It’s going fine, actually. He’s been really sweet and supportive. It’s still new, but we’re figuring it out.”

She nodded, her expression softening. “That’s good to hear. Kinich can be ahh.. how do I put this? Blunt? but he has a good heart.”

“Yeah, he does,” I agreed, feeling a warm glow at the thought of him. “He’s been really great.”

we continued to clean, the door to the shop opened, and Kinich walked in. His eyes immediately found mine, and he smiled warmly Again, just the hint of his lips turning at the corners. “Hey, Y/n,” he greeted, then turned to Xilonen. “Xilonen.”

“Hey, Kinich,” I replied, feeling a flutter of happiness at seeing him.

Xilonen gave him a playful look. “Didn’t expect to see Y/n here, huh?”

Kinich chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah, I was a bit surprised. What’s going on?”

Xilonen rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, so I can’t see my friend for a day? I asked Y/n to help me clean up since it’s been a while.”

Kinich nodded, looking a bit awkward. “Right, of course. Well, it’s good you both are here. I actually came by to let you know that someone from The Children of the Echos commissioned me for a project, so I don’t have much time to chat.”

“That’s great, What kind of project?” genuinely wanting to know

He shrugged, a small smile on his face. “It’s a bit of a mystery for now, but I’ll fill you in later.”

Xilonen smirked. “Always keeping secrets, huh?”

Kinich laughed. “Something like that. Anyway, I just wanted to say hi. I’ll catch up with you both later.”

It was the perfect time to test Mualani's theory further. I spotted an item on a high shelf that I couldn't reach and decided to ask Kinich for help.

"Kinich, could you please help me get that down?" I called out, pointing to a random scroll.

He stopped talking to Xilonen almost instantly and came up behind me. "Sure, what do you need?" he asked, his voice so, so close to my ear.

I pointed at the scroll again. "That one, right up there."

Without hesitation, Kinich reached over my head and grabbed it, his arm brushing against mine. He handed it to me with a smile. "Here you go."

"Thanks," I said, feeling a bit flustered by how quickly he had responded.

"No problem," he replied. "I have to go now, but I'll see you later." He turned to Xilonen and me, giving us both a quick nod. "Goodbye, Xilonen. Bye, Y/n."

"Bye, Kinich," we both said in unison as he left the shop.

As the door closed behind him, Xilonen turned to me with a curious look. "What was that? I've never seen Kinich act like that before."

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I don't know. Maybe he's just being extra helpful today."

Xilonen raised an eyebrow. "Extra helpful, huh? Well, whatever it is, it's definitely interesting."

I smiled,  Maybe Mualani was onto something after all.

“I should get going too,” I said, giving Xilonen a hug. “Thanks for today. It was really nice to catch up.”

"Oh yeah totally! I can handle the rest here. Also, come by anytime,” she replied, hugging me back. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“I won’t,” I promised, smiling as I headed out the door.

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

I found myself back at Mualani’s place, surfboard in hand and ready for another lesson. Mualani was determined to teach me how to surf, and I was equally determined to make her proud, even if it meant a few more wipeouts.

“Hey, ‘Lani!” I greeted her, adjusting my swimsuit as I approached. “Ready for another round?”

Mualani grinned, her eyes always sparkling with excitement. “Always! But first, tell me have you been messing with Kinich? He’s been super quiet. More than usual.”

I laughed, setting my surfboard down. “Really? That’s funny. I’ve been testing your theory. It’s been interesting, to say the least. I really don’t think he’s reacting. He’s doing things any normal boyfriend would do.”

She nodded enthusiastically. “You absolutely need to keep it up. Yesterday he looked like he was going to explode.”

I snorted a laugh Mualani clapped her hands together. “Alright, enough talk. Let’s hit the waves!”We headed down to the beach, the sound of the ocean filling the air.

As we paddled out, Mualani and I chatted about everything and nothing, enjoying the easy flow of conversation. Suddenly, someone from the tribe called out to Mualani, needing her assistance with something urgent.

Mualani sighed, giving me an apologetic look. “Duty calls. Just focus on balancing on the board for now, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Got it!” I called, watching as she paddled back to the shore.

Left to my own devices, I paddled out to the shallow part of the water. I stood up on the board, feeling the gentle sway of the ocean beneath me. Balancing was tricky, but I was determined to get the hang of it. I took a deep breath, focusing on keeping my stance steady.

The sun was warm on my skin, and the sound of the waves was soothing.

My balance wavered, and I tumbled into the water with a splash. As I surfaced, sputtering and wiping the saltwater from my eyes, I heard a familiar voice.

"Having trouble there?" Kinich asked, a teasing smile on his face.

I felt my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. "Maybe just a little," I admitted, trying to laugh it off.

He chuckled, wading over to me. "Here, let me help you." He reached out, steadying me as I stood up in the water. His hands were firm but gentle, and I felt a bit more stable with his support.

"Thanks," I mumbled reeling from the taste of saltwater, feeling self-consciousness.

"No problem," he replied, still holding my surfboard, "Everyone falls sometimes. It's part of the learning process."

I nodded, appreciating his encouragement. "Yeah, I guess so."

He handed me the board, his eyes warm with amusement. "Just keep at it. You'll get the hang of it."

The sun glinted off the water as I turned towards Kinich, curiosity, and anxiety bubbling with the ripples of the water.

“Kinich,” I called out, voice catching the wind.

“Would you help me with this, please? I mean, with keeping my balance on the board?”

His gaze softened, and without a word, he nodded. With practiced ease, he dropped the surfboard into the water, and it settled with a small splash. Approaching me, he placed his hands gently around my waist, lifting me as if I weighed nothing.

My heart beat wildly, like drums against my chest—not just from the thrill, but from the intimate touch. Kinich’s hands lingered longer than necessary as he steadied me on the board, fingers warm against her skin through the thin fabric of my swimsuit. His grip was firm, yet tender, as though he was acutely aware of his strength and its effect.

“This good?” he asked, voice low, almost a whisper. It sent shivers down my spine, as I nodded, unable to find my voice. So instead I nodded, slowly.

Once Kinich was convinced Ihad found my balance, he slowly let go. For a few moments, I managed to stay upright, it was my triumph. But the waves had other plans. The board wobbled violently beneath my feet, and with a startled yelp, I lost my footing. In the blink of an eye, I grabbed onto Kinich, pulling him down with me. We both plunged into the cool embrace of the ocean. Breaking the surface, I wiped the water from my eyes, only to be met with the sight of a thoroughly drenched and disheveled Kinich. My initial shock dissolved into a fit of giggles. 

“I am so sorry!” I gasped between laughs, noticing the way his usually calm demeanor was replaced with a mixture of surprise a cute scowl. “You look... upset.”

Kinich’s expression softened, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. “Upset with you? Never.”

His eyes held mine, a glint of mischief playing in their sunsets. “Actually,” he continued, his voice low and sincere, “since you’ve been asking so politely, I thought I might as well ask the same... Can I please kiss you?”

Time seemed to pause as his words settled over. The world faded around us, leaving just the two of us in that perfect, sunlit moment. I barely managed a nod.

Kinich's lips met mine with a tenderness that took my breath away. The kiss was soft, almost hesitant as if he was savoring the moment, afraid it might slip away too soon. His hands, still resting on my hips, tightened slightly, pulling closer but never forcefully. 

I felt the warmth of his touch through the cool water, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on my revealed skin. The world around us seemed to fade, leaving only the sensation of his lips on mine and the steady rhythm of our breaths mingling. 

As the kiss deepened, Kinich's hand moved to cradle my face, his thumb brushing lightly against my cheekbone. It was a gesture of pure affection, a silent promise of his care and respect. I responded in kind, my own hands finding their way to his shoulders, feeling the strength and warmth beneath my fingertips.

When we finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine, heavy breaths mingling in the space between us. Kinich's eyes searched mine, a soft smile playing on his lips. Before he frowned.

"Now please stop saying please," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the waves. "I can't take it anymore."

[skzstannie]

"Do you want to start over?"

SKZ-> Bang Chan x Reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, exes to lovers wc: ~4,100 cw: arguments, mentions of alcohol and Chan's drunk, use of Y/N (soz, I tried not to), reader’s a university student

summary: a fun night out leads to a much needed confrontation

A/N: Hiii! Some romantic angst for today with Chan. I'm on break for the holidays, so expect lots of fics during the next few weeks!

Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

"We have got to get out more! This is so fun!" your friend yells over the loud music playing in the bar.

The time reads 12:30 A.M, and as much fun as this is, you can't deny the fact you're getting tired.

"For real, I could go all night!" another one of your friends says, her arms swinging over her head to the beat of the music.

Your eyes widen at that- all night?

"Come on Y/N, dance! You don't even look like you're having fun." They grab your arms, swaying you back and forth.

You let them have their fun for a few more songs, allowing your whole body to feel the music.

The time slips away from you, the rampant atmosphere providing you a distraction from your drowsiness. Your alcohol intake is definitely a factor, as well.

Your phone rings in your pocket, bringing you back to reality. You unlock it to reveal Changbin's name. You haven't heard from him, or any of your ex's other friends, since the breakup. Not that you were expecting to, but it's definitely strange for him to be calling you now.

Figuring it could be an emergency, you excuse yourself from the dance circle your friends have created and step outside to take the call.

"Hello?" you answer, your voice timid.

"Hello? Y/N?" you hear from the other side. He sounds a little out of breath, a hint of panic coming through.

"Yea, Changbin, is everything alright?" you question, your concern growing.

"Um, kinda? I don't know," he responds, sounding distracted. He sounds distant now, like he's pulled the phone away from his ear.

"Where are you? Do you need help?"

"Well, I'm with Chan. We're in the park, just off your university campus. He's refusing to go home until he sees you. He's pretty wasted right now, but I can't get him to come home, so I figured giving you a call was worth a shot."

Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear Chan's slurred words in the background. "Is-is that Y/N? Let me talk to her."

"No, Chan, just sit back down." You hear some shuffling from the other side before Changbin's voice becomes clearer again. "Hello? Are you still there?"

You debate hanging up. This was not supposed to happen tonight. Your friends brought you out to forget about him, not go and see him all desperate and drunk for you. Somewhere in the back of your tipsy mind, you know you want to see him, to touch him one more time.

Your breakup was sad for both you and Chan. You were the one who ended it. It was nothing Chan did; you were just far too stressed with everything you had going on, and you didn't feel like it was fair to Chan. He was always busy with producing, and if he wasn't producing, he was in meetings or hanging with the boys.

You always had class and work, and you felt like you were starting to neglect your studies. With you nearing the end of your degree, entering your senior year a few months prior, that was the last thing you needed.

So, for the sake of both of your education and futures, you broke it off. It was sudden, and you caught him completely off guard with it.

You remember how absolutely heartbroken he sounded, the sounds of his choked up words forever tattooed on your brain. "What do you mean? Did I do something wrong?" He'd grabbed your hands, pulling them close to his chest. His heartbeat was erratic, similar to his breathing, and the tears welled in his eyes so fast you feared they'd spill over before you could even respond.

"I just think it's for the best," you had replied. You were cold and emotionless with it, trying to protect your own heart in the process of breaking his. You never did tell him why you were ending it. You were scared he'd call you ridiculous, saying that that's no reason to breakup, and that he could fix it.

That's not what you had wanted to hear at the time. You felt you were doing the right thing for both of you.

It had been months since then, and your heart never healed. You still loved him, but you were always too embarrassed to reach out. After all, it was your fault. You were the one who broke up with him, not the other way around.

You never heard from any of the other boys either. You knew they were a tight-knit group, so you assumed they hated you. You hated yourself too, in a way. You broke his heart into a million pieces and never even told him why.

You wanted him. You needed him, so so bad. You've been waiting for this moment for months. Sure, maybe you weren't expecting him to be completely wasted, but you couldn't let this opportunity slip. Your friends would be upset, probably tell you it was a bad idea and drag you home. That's why you weren't going to tell them the details.

"Where are you? I'm coming to get him." You hear Changbin's sigh of relief from the other side of the phone as he tells you exactly where they are.

You hang up and send a quick text to your friends who are no doubt still dancing up a storm inside the bar. You're brief with them, telling them something came up and you have to run home. You don't wait for their reply, hurrying off to hopefully fix the biggest mistake of your life.

~ ~ ~

"Y/N, thank God you came. He's been out of his mind for hours now," Changbin tells you as you walk up to them. You see Chan sitting on the park bench beside him, and his head whips up at the sound of your name.

Chan's eyes widen at the sight of you. He jumps up, stumbling a bit, but he's able to regain his balance. He's surprisingly quick in making his way over to you.

You can smell the alcohol on him from a few feet away, but you don't pay it any mind as he throws himself at you, his arms heavily hanging over your shoulders. "Y/N," he slurs, "You're here."

He sighs into your neck, his head leaning to rest on your shoulder. Your arms come up around his waist, holding him up. He's not putting all his weight on you, but you still struggle to keep him upright, his drunken state making it hard for him to stand straight.

You look to Changbin, your arms straining around Chan's body. "What should we do?" you ask him. You're not sure what the rest of Changbin's plan was. You come here to see him, then what? Take him home? Send them back on their way? You're not entirely sure which you'd prefer, to be honest.

"I wanna go home with you," Chan whines in response before Changbin has a chance.

"I don't know, Chan, I don't think-" Changbin is quick to cut you off.

"I'll help him to your place." He walks over to you guys, practically ripping Chan off you. He drapes one of Chan's arms over his shoulders, holding up most of his weight.

You stop and think for a moment.

What are you doing!? You can't bring your ex back home! Your tipsy, and he's absolutely wasted. Even if you were to ever reconcile, you certainly didn't want it to be under these circumstances.

"Changbin, I-"

"Nope, this is your mess, and you know you need to fix it." He starts to drag Chan in the direction of your apartment, Chan letting out incoherent babbles along the way.

You're still stood in the same spot, but you rush to catch up to them.

"Excuse me?" you let out in disbelief.

"You heard me," he sasses back, leaning forward to make eye contact with you around Chan's hanging head. "You know what you did wasn't right, and I know you regret it."

Your jaw drops. How did he know this?

"You can't just assume I've wanted to run back to him all this time," you rebut, draping Chan's other arm over your own shoulders to help him walk a little steadier.

"I'm not assuming anything. Your roommate told me. We know you've been just as much of a wreck as he has been."

You scoff but leave it at that. How could you argue when he knew? He knew that you've been struggling ever since, crying day and night. Embarrassment washes over your body, already planning out the conversation you'll have with your roommate about sharing your personal problems with your ex's best friends.

It's silent for a few minutes. You're nearing your complex now, the light from the streetlights dimming, transitioning into the light from your neighbors' porchlights.

"How much did she tell you?" You ask as the three of you approach your front door.

"Enough to know you need this just as much as he does."

~ ~ ~

You unlock your front door, Chan breaking free from Changbin's hold and stumbling into your apartment. You watch from the foyer as he trips over his own two feet, falling onto the couch. You allow your gaze to travel over to Changbin, assured that Chan will be staying in one spot for at least a few minutes.

"You ok?" he asks, his concern for you showing for the first time that night.

While your roommate never made it known to you, the boys had texted her just days after the breakup, asking what had happened. She had explained your side of things to them, and she made them promise not to tell Chan. She didn't want to meddle in your love life like that. As stupid as she thought you were being, it wasn't her place, or his friend's place, to tell him anything.

They agreed not to tell Chan anything, if and only if she agreed to keep them updated on you.

"I'm fine. Yea, this is fine," you rub your hands over your face, trying get rid of the tiredness surely covering your features.

"I'll text you guys tomorrow afternoon," he says, turning to head back to the front door. You follow him, seeing him out.

He steps outside, turning back around and catching the door before you can close it. "I know we sprung this on you, but don't stress out about it. Just do what feels right," and with that he turns and walks down the stairs, not waiting for your reply.

You slowly the close the door, allowing your back to slide down it. You sit on the floor, your elbows resting on your knees, palms holding your head up.

Your heart races knowing who waits for you in your living room. What do you say? Do you wait until morning to hash it out? That would probably be best, but what if he wants to talk about it now?

Heavy footsteps bring you out of your thoughts. Your eyes snap up from the ground, seeing Chan making his way towards you.

He clumsily settles himself in front of you, crossing his legs as he leans back on his arms, his palms resting flat on the floor behind him.

His eyes are glossed over from the alcohol, a lazy smile gracing his lips. "I've missed you."

Your heart flutters at that. You feel the familiar feeling of butterflies in your stomach, and you're not entirely sure how to respond. With the exhaustion from your night's activities taking over your body, all you really want to do is go to sleep. Your mind is not in the right space to have a conversation with him right now.

"What do you want me to say, Chan?" you let out a breathy chuckle, your cheeks flushing pink. As tired as you are, his words still have an affect on you.

"Preferably that you've missed me, too."

"This isn't the right time to have this conversation. You're drunk, and I'm tipsy and exhausted. Let's go to bed, and I promise we'll talk about it in the morning," you tell him, rising to your feet. You reach a hand out to him, offering him help to stand.

His face morphs into a pout, and he holds out his pinky towards you from his spot on the floor. "Promise?" his voice wobbles, tears springing into his eyes. He'd always been an emotional drunk, his vulnerable side surfacing at the mere sight of alcohol.

Pinky promises had always been your thing when you were together. Until this day, neither of you had ever broken one. It was honestly a really important part of your relationship. Your plans would fall through sometimes, or somebody would forget to pick up dinner, but if you guys pinky promised, you knew you could fully trust them. Him remembering this in his drunken state does something to your insides, pulling on your heart strings a bit.

You hesitate, taking your lip in between your teeth, but eventually latch your pinky onto his.

"Pinky promise."

~ ~ ~

"Alright, here's a couple blankets and a pillow. The T.V. remote is right there, and I'll get you a glass of water and some ibuprofen for the morning. Anything else?" You set the bedding onto the couch, smoothing out the sheet you had laid there beforehand.

"Hmmm," he hums, bringing his finger up to his lips, portraying a very exaggerated thinking face. "Will you stay with me?" He tilts his head at you, patting the spot beside him.

"I will not. I will be sleeping in my own bed."

He pouts at that, and you quickly turn away, fearing you won't be able to hold strong if you look at him much longer.

You get ready for bed, making your way around your apartment turning all the lights off. You flip the lights out in the living room, the television providing a soft glow to it's surroundings.

"Goodnight Chan, sleep well." You wait a few seconds for a reply, but all you hear in return is his heavy breathing, small snores escaping his lips every now and again.

~ ~ ~

You're awakened from your slumber at the sound of your door creaking open. Your head jumps off your pillow, abruptly sitting up in bed.

You let your defenses down upon seeing Chan's face, slightly puffy with sleep.

"Do you need something?" you ask softly. You glance beside you at your alarm clock.

4:43 A.M. Way too early to get up.

He doesn't respond, the only noise in the room coming from the sounds of his socks shuffling against your soft carpet. He makes his way to the side of your bed, looking down at you sleepily.

"Chan, go back to bed. It's too early." You roll back over, too tired to play any games so early in the morning.

It's silent for a moment, and you almost allow yourself to fall back to sleep, but you jolt at the feeling of your bedding dipping behind you. Chan pushes up against your back, moving you further away from the edge of the bed.

He slides underneath the covers behind you, his strong arm coming up to wrap around your middle, pulling you closer to him.

He's incredibly warm, and you can't help but cuddle into him further, feeding off the heat his body is providing you.

He lets out a long sigh, his breath blowing up against the back of your head.

You lay there, stiff as a board. Your mind wanders to all the nights spent like this when you were together. How nice it always felt to lay in his arms, comforted and safe. You breathe deeply, inhaling his woodsy scent you've missed all those months.

His breathing has slowed and evened by this point, and you're sure he's fallen back asleep. You do the same just minutes later, unable to resist the invisible pull of your eyelids, shutting them and allowing you to fall asleep once again.

~ ~ ~

You're eyes open and you're met with the bright sunrays coming through your window, making you squint. You feel around behind, the warm body next to you nowhere to be seen, leaving nothing but the cold sheets in his place.

You jump out of bed, scared he may have run off early in the morning. Scrambling, you throw on a hoodie from your floor and hurry out your bedroom door, rushing towards the living room.

You stop in your tracks when you get there, seeing him sitting on your couch, legs crossed over each other on your coffee table.

You stand there another few moments, waiting for him to see you. He turns his body, "Are you just gonna stand there?" he asks, the teasing evident in his voice.

You don't know what to make of all this. He should hate you. He should've left as soon as he felt well enough this morning. You broke his heart for God's sake. You broke his heart into a million pieces, and never even tried to put them back together.

You slowly make your way over to him, sitting beside him on your couch, making sure to leave a safe amount of distance between the two of you.

"Sooo..." you start as he clears his throat. You both laugh, the awkward tension slowly melting.

"You go first," you tell him. You weren't really sure what you were going to say anyway.

"I apologize for last night. From making Changbin call you, to making you take me home, to getting in your bed in the middle of the night. I'm sorry if I crossed boundaries, I mean, I'm sure I did," he looks to you for assurance that it's ok if he keeps going.

You give him a small shoulder shrug. You don't know if he really did cross any boundaries. He obviously didn't make you take him home. If you really didn't want him here, you would've told Changbin yesterday. As persistent as he seemed last night, you know he wouldn't have pushed that hard if you were truly uncomfortable.

"It's ok. I answered the phone call, I brought you here, and I let you in my bed. This goes both ways, and if I wasn't comfortable with it, I wouldn't have let it happen."

His eyes soften at this, his shoulders releasing the visible tension he's been holding there all morning. "Ok, good." He hesitates for a moment, wringing his hands in his lap. "I guess, I just wanna know why, ya know? Why did you end things the way you did?" His eyes meet yours, and it's hard for you to decipher the emotion behind them. Anger, sadness, regret- you're not sure. You're pretty sure they're all present to some degree.

You pretend to think, although you know in your heart you don't have to. You know exactly why you ended; if only you'd let him in on it a little sooner, it probably would've saved him a lot of heartache.

"I was overwhelmed," you pause for a moment, and he nods his head, encouraging you to keep going. "I had so much going on, school was hectic, my job had my head all over the place, and I felt like what I had left to give you just wasn't enough."

He doesn't say anything for a few moments, his eyes glued to his hands. "You could've just talked to me about it. I would've understood, and we could've figured it out." His voice comes out weak, like I've struck a nerve that was never meant to be touched, let alone toyed with and tore.

"That was exactly what I was scared of. I really thought that what I was doing was what was best for both of us."

"You don't get to make that call, Y/N," his words come out strong, his eyes finally meeting yours. "I loved you, and I still love you," he scoffs, "Can you believe that? After all the hell you put me through, I still love you." He gets up from the couch and begins to lightly pace in front of the T.V.

He runs hands through his hair, brushing it back from his eyes. Tears well up in yours, and you quickly wipe them before they even get the chance to fall. You don't deserve to cry. You did this to him.

"I'm so sorry," you choke out. "I regret it. I regret it all. I can't imagine how much I hurt you, but I know I did, deeply. I want to make sure you know that it wasn't easy for me, either. I haven't been myself all these months. I stopped going to my classes, and last night was the first night I'd gone out in months."

He stops his pacing, standing right in front of you. He just stares, and your emotions run wild when you can't decipher how he's feeling.

"I'm so sorry," the tears you tried to keep at bay flow freely down your face now, "If I'd have known what it would do to both of us, I would never have done it. It was a stupid, spur of the moment decision, and I felt like I had control. If I had the control, everything would be ok," your words break through your sobs, "but it wasn't ok, and I'm so, so sorry!" Your hands cover your eyes, your head bowing to your knees to hide your grief-stricken face.

He still stands there, in the same spot, just staring. You're too overwhelmed by your own guilt to notice him moving closer to you at a feverish pace.

He rips your hands from your face, pulling your wrist until you're standing in front of him. He forcefully grabs your jaw, bringing his lips to yours. The kiss is short, but you've never known such passion could be passed on through a kiss.

All the pent up anxiety and guilt melts between the two of you, your emotions mixing together like sugar and water, dissolving between the two of you until they're one.

He pulls back, his breathing quick. "I've been wanting to do that for so long."

You look at him, shock prominent on your face. "How can you do this?"

His eyes widen, scared he's crossed the line yet again. "What?" he stutters.

"Why don't you hate me? I expected you to yell at me, maybe even call me a few names. Why are you standing in my living room kissing me like all this never happened?"

"I could never hate you," his fingers run along your jaw before settling softly on your cheek. "As much as I’ve wanted to these last few months, just to help myself get over you, I could never. I've been going crazy without you."

"How could you forgive me, just like that?" You're confusion seeps through your tone.

"Because you're perfect. We all make mistakes, and I've had months to deal with this one. Now, knowing why you did it makes it all the easier."

You still just stare at him, almost expecting him to say "Just kidding", laugh in your face, and run out the door.

But he doesn't. He's still standing in front of you, holding your face so gently that you can barely feel his calloused hand, his fingers gently caressing your cheek.

"I know this is a lot, and maybe I'm crazy, but do you want to start over?"

Your confusion becomes more evident, your brows furrowing lightly.

"Let's redo all our firsts. Our first date, our first kiss, our first 'I love you'. I'm willing to move past this if you are."

His eyes are filled with hope, sparkling in the light coming in from the window.

"I don't know Chan..." you trail off, "I'm not sure I can ever forgive myself. I hate what I did to you, and I've hated myself ever since because of it. I don't know how to come to terms with your forgiveness when I don't deserve it."

"We can work through it together. I will be there with you every step of the way. I promise, pinky promise," he's persistent, his pinky reaching out towards yours.

You stare at his hand, remembering how nicely your hands fit together. That's how everything feels with Chan. Your body has always fit perfectly with his, your personalities meshing like nothing you've ever experienced before.

"So what do you say?" your gaze raises until it meets his, and you realize you'll never be able to say no to those eyes. "Will you go on a date with me?" His smile widens, his pearly teeth on full display.

"I think- I think I'd like that a lot."

[millerscoffee]

soft spot for trouble | hbf!javi

lit a cigarette and gave it a kiss.

6.3k | javier peña x f!reader

masterlist

rating: 18+ MDNI

warnings: dub-con: drunk sex, honey this is all S-M-U-T, husband's best friend, infidelity, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, squirting, piv (protected), brat tamer!javi, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, size kink, praise kink, this is just so horny, smoking (lots of it soz, and shotgunning cigarette smoke – OOPS). no use of y/n.

summary: javier peña is back from colombia and decides to spend some time with you and your husband, his best friend since college. after telling a story you know nothing about, an argument ensues between you and your husband, and you get drunk... both on whiskey, and on javi.

A/N: what can i say, i'm just the worst for narcos's very own javier peña and there's nothing you can do. enjoy!!!!! || [when you click keep reading you don't see the chalkboard i have stashed away stating "i will not make this a series" over and over 🤭]

"Bebita, I know your husband. He's not exactly notorious for making women cum. When was the last time he even went down on you?" Your cheeks absolutely flush at the tone of his voice, the truths he's spilling from his lips. Truths so intimate, you hadn't even told Gabbie about them. You swallow a knot in your throat. "Not saying it's me who should do that for you," finishing off his statements and drink Javi stands up, slipping on his leather jacket. "I'm saying I could." Stepping closer, he bends down to catch your ear. Goosebumps litter your skin as he whispers: "Could make you forget all about tonight." And you very much would like to forget all about tonight.

"Okay – okay! Would you have a threesome?" Your best friend is reading these conversation cards you got her some birthday ago, and you can hear her partner and your husband laugh amongst themselves.

A dinner party is going on at your house, and you and your husband have invited your best friend, Gabrielle, and her partner, Kris. Along with them there's your husband's best friend, Javier.

He was meant to bring a date, but for reasons that were more mumbled out of his mouth than spoken outright, they aren't here.

You're all sat around the dining room table with after dinner drinks and a game everyone agreed would be a fun way to end the night.

"Oh, gosh!" You laugh with Gabbie, both of you shaking your heads in anticipation of what would be said next.

"You gonna tell her or should I, pendejo?" Javi refers to your husband, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

The one you explicitly told him to smoke outside. You heard your husband, Julian, veto the request as you left, allowing the DEA to do what he wanted.

Julian undermining what you wanted... again.

"Tell me what?" You raise your brow, wafting smoke from your face dramatically as if to say, I told you not to do this. Javi doesn't seem to pay it much attention.

"Me and this guy...," in fact he points to your husband with the cigarette, flicking ash into the tray. You blink in annoyance.

"No! You didn't!" You gasp. Your mind races at the thought of them taking someone back to their dorm in college. You curb the ache that tempts your middle at thought of Javier and Julian sharing a woman between the two of them.

But that excitement is fleeting when a more sinister, grueling feeling creeps up your stomach.

"You're right. We didn't. Well, I didn't. I just played wingman. Julian here isn't as much of a saint as you thought." Javi says this to make you laugh, but it does the opposite.

Your eyes catch Julian's who now is looking at anywhere else but you. Knowing damn well before the two of you got married, this man prodded and practically bullied sexual information out of you.

Said it was only fair to know each other's pasts before making such a big commitment.

Within a sentence, a simple – stupid – game, the perception of your husband could shift before your very eyes. Your jaw ticks forward and you take a long, contemplative sip of wine.

"O-kay, let's just put these away," Kris muses, taking the cards in her hands.

"No, let's keep going," you antagonise. Your eyes become dull, tongue sharpening by the second. "I think Julian has a story to tell. It's good to know who you're married to."

You remember the way Julian said those very words to you while he was digging your own history of who you've slept with. Like a secret call directly to him... in front of everyone.

You can see Peña shifting in his seat out of your periphery.

"Well, it was in college," Julian speaks now after shooting the rest of his bourbon. His body language involving everyone in the story, but he finally has the courage to look at you. Somehow that hurts worse.

"There were these two girls at the bar we used to go to, and–"

That's when the tear spills over your cheek.

"Alright, I think she's heard enough." Javi's voice is low to Julian and your head snaps in the direction of him like a vulture who's making a meal of something dead.

"You don't get to decide that."

It's only when Gabbie whispers your name do you take heed. "I think we should leave you two to talk about this."

The guests in your home pack up their things until it's you and Julian. "I'm sorry, Jul–"

"Peña just go, man."

Javi nods sadly at your husband, his hand touching your shoulder as he slips out. He's the last one to go, and as the door closes it feels symbolic.

It's silent for a long time.

You go between wanting to cry, wanting to scream, wanting clarity.

Since your own husband didn't bother to give that to you.

"I never cared," you let out an uneven sigh, searching over your husband's features.

He looks defensive, annoyed and it's totally misplaced. You should be the annoyed one. You are the one who got betrayed.

"It never bothered me to tell you my partners. I agreed with you, even. That we should be open and honest to have a better relationship–"

"You really think you're in the position to be on a high horse when you fuck Javier with your eyes?"

It's deflective. A defense mechanism to take the heat off of himself, and unfortunately, it works. Your mouth is left agape.

"What the fuck do you mean?"

"I mean," he begins, tilting his glass to where Javi sat, "whenever this guy is over, I don't exist."

"This guy, is your best friend. Someone you've known way longer than you've known me. Excuse me for being hospitable."

"There's hospitality, then there's throwing yourself at the first man who walks through the door. It's embarrassing."

His words make you feel small for the first time in your relationship.

It causes a crack, irreparable in nature, and you feel a shift.

Because you don't cry, it makes you angry. Puts you back on track as to why you were having this conversation in the first place.

"Embarrassing?" You stand, wine glass in hand, "Embarrassing?! You just confessed something you knew would make me irate in front of our very best friends. Something personal that I should have known in private. You lied to me and you admitted it in front of people we care about. Made me look like a goddamn fool! Don't tell me about being embarrassed, you don't know the first fucking thing. Fuck you, Julian!"

You could throw the wine glass, but you decide to slam it down instead. Grabbing your purse, keys, and jacket to escape without letting him finish his thought. Door slammed. You've heard enough.

Mature. But you were pissed off, and you knew staying in a house that you made a home together wouldn't solve anything.

Maybe getting some fresh air would help.

Maybe walking to the bar in town would be even more helpful.

Your thoughts were swirling, clouding your judgement on the walk in, sneakers on. Your pleated white skirt brushes above your knees that paired with the black top that made your breasts look concealed more than shown off.

As if the forest green bomber jacket didn't help in making you look modest.

What the fuck did Julian know?! You weren't throwing yourself at anybody.

Because you were not thinking about Javi with his shirt off moments before the truth was told, and he did not infiltrate your dreams occasionally with sexual undertones.

It couldn't happen, and it was not happening.

You had been to this bar a few times before. It's dimly lit, a variety of music pumps through the speakers. There's plumes of smoke, and there's something about it that feels safer than when you experienced it in your home. Like a part of you enjoyed it.

Studying the room, you discover Javier Peña on a barstool, staring into his glass of whiskey. You knew Peña to play dirty, but there's something about the way he's contemplating – or at least looks like he's contemplating – that gives off remorse.

"Didn't know you could do that," you kid, taking a seat beside him. Your eyes scan over his jeans, the buttons undone from his red shirt. The way his chest and neck and NO – no!

"Oh, hey," and his dreamy crooked smile, puppy eyes. Jesus Christ, you needed a drink and fast. "Didn't know I could do what?"

"Think." You try to cheer him up, but it doesn't seem to work. You both keep doing that to each other tonight.

Instead, Javi huffs out a fake laugh through his nose and downs the rest of the amber liquid. His eyebrows flash quickly, showing hints of regret, "You're tellin' me."

"Hey," your say lowly, eyes softening at the signs of his guilt. It feels different from your husband's accusatory behaviour.

It makes you feel like Javi actually cared that he hurt you, or at least hurt his friend. You can see him run his tongue atop of his teeth through his lips when he looks at you. It makes his jaw jut out, strong and chiseled, and you fail at averting your gaze.

"You didn't know that I didn't know. It's not your fault. For either party." You reach out to touch the top of Javi's hand in a friendly manner, and you catch a glimpse of your wedding ring.

A twinge of guilt hits your gut, and you pull away from the warmth as soon as you land.

"You really didn't know?" Javi peers over to you before finding eyes of the bartender, holding up the number 'two' with his fingers.

"Not only did I not know, he insisted on knowing every person that I've ever slept with, where they live, and how many times. Yes you heard that correctly," you nod a thank you to both the bartender and Javi before taking your drink.

Whiskey's not typically your first choice, but it's like he knew you needed something stronger. It's not a typical night.

The alcohol feels good on your tongue, as if it washed away what you just said.

You conveniently leave out what your husband threw at you about Peña before you left. Tonight was awkward enough already.

"Mierda, what a fucking idiot." Javi snickers in disbelief, shaking his head.

"Yeah, I think you taught him some interrogation skills you didn't warn me about." You don't mean for that to come off so flirty, but you see Javier's face change minisculely and it makes your thighs to squeeze together.

"Didn't know I had to look out for you, cariño," he says, charm dripping from every syllable. He offers you a cigarette and it's hilarious, really – him handing this to you after telling him time and time again not to do it in your house.

Even more hilarious that you take it from him. He seems a little surprised by that.

You press the stick between your teeth when Javi has his lighter ready. Pour your stare into his as he starts your cigarette. Allow the inhale to sting your lungs.

You're very composed about it all, really. Really.

Exhaling the air from the side of your mouth, away from his face, you shrug slightly. "I guess you know now." Your words not making complete sense as you dizzy from nicotine, alcohol, and deception.

"Two women...," you trail off, focusing on the neon lights of the bar that create reflections on the shiny, hardwood floor. "Can barely satisfy one." You weren't saying it to chide Julian, you mostly said to to yourself, but of course nothing goes unnoticed with Peña, and he chokes a laugh.

It feels nice to hear a light sound in the midst of something so heavy that you can't help but partake in it, too. The two of you chuckling and you shake your head, taking another drag of the cigarette.

"Well, here's to the ones who can," Javi lifts his glass, and you do the same, just barely picking up what he's hinting while you down the rest of drink. Head swimming now.

The two of you sit in conversation as the piles of people in your town fill seats for a good ten minutes. Most of them know the both of you, and that keeps you on track. You abandon the butt of your cigarette in an ashtray that has at least three of Javi's since he arrived.

Kept on track because the more you drink, the more you realise you want to act on your impulses. Want to go against the things you were keeping yourself from thinking. To make some of those dreams come true.

"You know what your fuckin' problem is?" Javi starts, and it makes your blood boil. Breaks you out of your reverie.

"Maybe start that sentence off differently."

"No," he's quick to reply. So quick you don't notice you fold your own argument. "You're too uptight, that's your problem." he shrugs casually and you shove his shoulder lightly.

"Making it worse, Peña."

Javi brings his hand up to tap his index and middle finger at to the side of your head lightly.

"You're operating too much from here," his arm sweeps down, those two same fingers brushing against your panties from underneath your skirt. You jump back in your seat, gasping in response.

"Need to operate from here."

And there it is. It would seem out of place if it were anyone else but Javier Fucking Peña. Known for debaucherous ways. Known for his vices.

"W-what... what are you doing?" You stare wide, not quite sure you even felt what you did. It happened so fast that when you look around, no one saw a thing.

It wasn't as much of a record-scratch stop to them as it was to you.

You notice that you don't tell him to stop. And so does he.

"Bebita, I know your husband. He's not exactly notorious for making women cum. When was the last time he even went down on you?" Your cheeks absolutely flush at the tone of his voice, the truths he's spilling from his lips. Truths so intimate, you hadn't even told Gabbie about them. You swallow a knot in your throat.

"Not saying it's me who should do that for you," finishing off his statements and drink Javi stands up, slipping on his leather jacket. "I'm saying I could." Stepping closer, he bends down to catch your ear. Goosebumps litter your skin as he whispers: "Could make you forget all about tonight."

And you very much would like to forget all about tonight.

It's only when you stand do you notice how drunk you are. Not completely wasted, but not sober enough to make decisions with your brain. Exactly how Javi wants you. The walk to Javi's apartment is remembered in jolly splices.

---

Your mouth greets the shoulder of Javi's jacket playfully while he unlocks his door. You detect his aftershave in mix with the cigarettes, alcohol, and leather.

A whine escapes you and slick gathers in your panties, even more from the bar if that were possible. Especially when your noises and eagerness pull a baritone laugh from him, "Tranquilo, tigre."

He says that, but as soon as you've crossed the threshold of his door he has you against the other side of it. Fingers playing in your hair. Ever the gentleman, sliding off your jacket to put it... on the ground. Great. You like that jacket!

But you're just as careful and kind to his things as you tug on his belt. Your fingers playing with the brown leather and metal and finally, finally your mouths touch.

A sweet moan, high in octave and breathy, eases out of your throat and it's met with the gravel of his groan in the pit of his own. He feels and tastes nothing like your husband which makes it much easier to forget him.

Truthfully, he hadn't been in your mind since fresh air hit your face on the walk to Javi's.

Smoke, alcohol, and the faint likeness of gum moves over your tongue while your hands multitask in untucking his shirt from his jeans.

"That fuckin' easy?" He quips, but his breath as shaky as yours. Large hands palming the smushed shape of your breasts from the modest top, and it produces a whimper in the middle of your panting.

"It's that fucking easy, Peña. Could've been doing this a long fuckin' time, now." Your hands eclipse his, pushing them further into your tits in effort to obscenely massage them.

This stirs a groan from his lips. In awe of how in control you are like this. How it's different from the woman allowing her requests to be denied in her own home.

Javi disobeyed you on purpose at your house earlier, so maybe you could get it through your thick fucking skull that this is what you really needed.

To watch your desires bubble to the surface, and moreover to let them have space here. He wants you to act on them.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he rolls over the bone. Moustache twitching in a smirk, "Javi, baby."

To say you're wet now is an understatement. Your clit tingles with anticipation, thighs shaking without even being touched.

"Javi," you say it back to him, but it comes out more like a moan. A catalyst for a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth and brushing of his facial hair against the top of your lips while he towers above you. Palm flat against the door above your head.

Somewhere between that and undoing each button on his shirt, you end up in the kitchen – bent over the island. Pouting at not getting the chance to see him shirtless fully.

You shiver against the granite, claw at the edges of furniture for something to land on. To find purchase. A cheek is pinned against the cool texture and you choke a breath the second you feel air flow against your ass. Your skirt riding up just for Javi to view.

"Motherfucker," you hear Javi behind you. The tone amused, saturated in desire. That's when you get your first taste of relief.

The edge of his index finger runs between your legs, rubbing the obvious wet spot of your panties. Your folds, even through the fabric, wrap around the length of his finger from how deeply he's pressing against you.

It flicks a flame in the pit of your stomach and causes more hunger than relief. Your pores open from how hot it's making you.

"You get this wet for him?" Javi's simple question evokes a mewl you've never heard come from yourself. Your hips lift back and roll in need.

"No... no. J-just you, Javi. Just you."

"Just me," he repeats, head tipping to the side as he examines you.

How easy it is for you to handover claim of your cunt. It's instantaneous, him pulling your undies down. Wasting no more time in what the two of you came here to do.

The pad of his thumb collects your slick between your folds. From the top of your hole all the way to your clit at the bottom from how you're positioned, and you bite your lip hard. Cheeks flushed while your ass peeks out from your skirt.

"Is that because this is mine?"

You confidently say Julian has never talked to you like this. You don't think you've ever been addressed like this in your life.

Never been made to feel special in this way, or that your body was someone's because they wanted you. Not because they wanted to have some icky claim of you.

Even more, you don't feel guilty. Not yet, anyway. There's no time for it. No time to pretend from what you've wanted from the very moment this man, whose warmth now radiates behind you, entered the picture.

"It's yours," you say in a rush as your torso drapes and digs into the side Javi's kitchen island. Makes you think you'd say this even in a sober state. "It's all yours, Javi!"

"What's mine?" He's deliberate and torturous, and his voice alone could make you cum. Your ass pushes back languidly, giving him a good view to curse at under his breath, of your cunt and the velvet of your asshole.

"Me, Javi. I'm yours. Everything." Hot tears swell over your cheeks from how horny and desperate you feel. Like if you don't get him now, you could combust.

"Javi!" you gasp, rutting against the outline of his hard cock in his jeans when he grinds against you without warning.

"Get used to fuckin' saying that," he cautions, and it's cocky, but unlike all the other broken promises you've been given, he's true to his word.

Because he pulls away from you, and you're now his ragdoll – putting you wherever he wants. Hoisting you up on the kitchen island, and it feels cold against the heat pooling at your core.

Javi watches as you bring your bare feet onto the counter, leaning back on your hands, and spread your legs apart like he's being called for dinner. And, fuck, that's exactly what he wants.

Because as soon as you do that, as soon as he sees just how wet and pink you are at the core for him, he can't say no to you.

Not that he was ever planning on it.

"That's it, that's fucking it. Jesus fucking Christ."

You get a good view of Javi's chest all the way down to his stomach and jeans in their disheveled state from this point of view. The bulge of his cock difficult to hide in pants that tight, and you are grateful for it.

You shiver at a mixture of the view of him and the air against your soaked skin.

Your cheeks and lips are painted crimson when he pulls up a seat. He wasn't kidding. He was planning on eating you out, going down on you like you were his own personal meal – as if his eyes devouring you weren't enough.

Your manicured nailed comb his hair back once you get the chance to reach him. Feeling exposed, throbbing by the time you feel the smooth skin of his cheek proceed the inside of your thigh. He takes you in, marveling at the way your cunt pulses and clenches over nothing. Fluid floods right from the source. The way your clit peeks out from its hood, just enough that his teeth could brush against it.

It makes his mouth water, and yours too now that you think about it. Pressing slow, teasing kisses on your thighs you sigh in frustration and alleviation. You can't help but wriggle your hips up towards him. "Please," you whimper, and that makes Javi's eyes grow even darker if you could believe it.

"Please what?"

"Javi, please eat me out!"

He doesn't miss a beat. Using his nose and face to breach your folds apart, to take a mess even further, Javi digs in. His tongue flattens against your slick and your sounds are immediate. It's all too sensitive, too unfamiliar for you to fully register how to feel.

He was right when he called your husband out at the bar. Julian made sure you came, but it was rarely with his mouth. Most of the time you were left rubbing yourself off during sex.

So to have someone, to have Javi – your husband's best fucking friend, between your legs. Servicing you with the sluttiest smile on his face, you can't help but slump back on the counter.

To be under his stare is almost too much. Perfect and needy for you. You slip your eyes shut from the intensity.

"Eyes on me, princesa," Javi rolls off his tongue easily, the tip of it digging right underneath the hood of your clit. Making you gasp, eyes wide, popping back open to meet his gorgeous features.

"Did my pussy like that?" He hums in satisfaction, wrapping his mouth around the all-too sensitized nub before mercilessly sucking it.

This leaves you with your mouth hanging open, your eyes crossing as they roll into the back of your head. The same head that's now reclining in sheer ecstasy.

But Javi's quick to make his point as he goes off of you and replaces his sucking with a harsh slap to your cunt. It makes you spring up, makes you pay attention. You pout and writhe at his power over you.

"I said fucking eyes on me. Don't you dare think about anyone else."

"I-I," you try, you really try to say something, but you can't. It feels too good, and you're too drunk to understand you can't use your words right now.

So you comply, watch him as best as you can. Your mouth split open, eyebrows knit together. And he's kind in the way he goes right back – sucking on your clit like it's his fucking job.

Like he hasn't eaten in weeks, and you're sitting at his kitchen counter, on display.

Not using your brain to think, but using your pussy.

"JustyouJavi," you manage. It's slurred, but you manage it because while he's sucking on your nerves, he's rolling the edge of his tongue against it too. Methodical circles, a tempo to die for. Doesn't switch it up, or make awkward transitions. It's just right.

It's inevitable, screaming his name. Feeling your toes curl, the heels of your feet grind into Javi's shoulders. Damn near pornographic in the way you keen your mantra of: yeah, yeah, yeah. The ache explodes into an uncontrollable fit of passion as you gush all over Javi's mouth.

But as he pulls back, you see that it's not just his mouth that's coated. His cheeks, chin, nose. You're spilling down his neck. And he smiles at you like a blood-soaked lion polishing off its prey.

"I know what you can do, princesa," the sentence has far too many words for you to understand what's happening during your comedown, so that's why it happens as a surprise when you feel Javi's two fingers prod against your cunt.

Standing from his chair now, he pushes it back with his heel. Hand in a loose fist around your neck as he makes you watch what he's doing to you. "Don't fucking blink," he grits, and it makes you want him to tighten his grip. To be possessive while he fucks you.

Your head is slightly angled down while he starts. Eyes looking up, mouth wet but not as wet as Javi's and it makes you come apart to watch his skin glisten still from you. Index and middle fingers press inside your wet hole. His wet hole.

"Fuck!" You exclaim, slipping your top lip above the bottom, you open easily for him to plunge deeper, his fingers curling up with no trouble at all in finding that spongy spot of pleasure right at the tips of them. Your eyes gloss from how overwhelming it feels, the repetitions.

"You can squirt for me, baby." His echoes have you in a trance, but that request makes you nervous. "I've... I don't know how...," you manage the words and he massages your insides in a way that makes you discern you're being primed for something.

"You can do it," Javi leans down, and the encouragement makes your mind reel at how simple words can create such an affect on you.

"Pull my cock out and slip those pretty lips around it, hermosa. You'll forget about anything else."

A part of you isn't ready. To see his cock would mean that things were progressing, and if they were in a standstill you could soak up this moment for longer. But the way you can hear your cunt slosh in between thrusts has you curious if he actually could make you do this.

You look down first. See the bulge more prominent and close in his boxers from his unbuttoned jeans. Eager to break out, you pull the fabric down enough to send the leaking head of his cock to slap against his abdomen before it springs out in front of you to tease.

"Holy fuck," the moment before the freefall, your body becomes alert of the sheer size of him. It was even better than the dreams of you getting railed by him from behind.

You can't help but take a moment to appreciate this. To brush your face sluttily against the warmth of his cock. Your lips teasing him until the precum lands on your tongue and your jaw instantly burns from how sore it is to be open like that.

Saliva falls on your shirt, not yet found the time to take it off.

He tasted heavenly, your hand cups his balls while his moves from your throat to the back of your head.

And it's delicious to watch his face. The way his jaw relaxed open before grinding it back shut, exhaling sharply through his nose. Javi tests your gag reflexes then, gripping the back of your head and sending the shaft of his cock down your throat.

"Mierda," he falters in keeping both rhythms from how hot your wet mouth is. "Knew you could handle my cock, baby, but fuck."

Between the sounds of you gargling him and the squelching of your pussy he is relentless in using, your body is distracted and slack enough for him to pull out of you.

"Ay dios mio, bebita. That's fucking it, there you go." The way he's nodding, proud and spasming in your mouth has you cumming again. This this time clear liquid sprays from you when he tugs his skilled fingers from you and you vibrate such moans from Javi's cock he has to pull out to stop himself from cumming, too.

A wail replaces your moans as the sound of your voice is more prominent in the space. "Javi!" You can't help that you're crying obscenely now, tears flowing from the intensity and the treatment he'd been giving your throat. Mascara running down your cheeks.

---

"Good fucking girl, bonita." You don't realise it straight away from you cum-drunken stooper, but he's picked you up now. Showing you how strong his lean frame is by carrying you to his bed. Tossing you onto the mattress like it's nothing.

"All of this off. Now." Yes, sir. You bob your head yes frantically, knowing how fucked you must look. Mascara running, your panties... somewhere. Your skirt soaked from a new trick Javi just taught you.

You catch a glimpse of the man who did this to you, equally a mess. His hair in all directions, neck red as beads of sweat tempt his broad shoulders, and fuck, he was naked now. You don't mean to, but you drool – this time without a cock in your mouth – too fucked to notice, or care.

"Take a fuckin' picture, baby." Javi softens his knees to curve down at your ear, "Off. Last warning."

You begin to wonder what he would do if you didn't do as he said.

"And if I don't?" You challenge, a lascivious grin crosses your face and you raise a brow.

Mistake. Big mistake.

Because that makes Javi's grin fade. Ripples a new sense of foreboding into the air when he takes your skirt off just as easily and swiftly as he did your undies, but the skirt isn't unzipped so it bursts from the force and you yelp at the sensation.

"Javi, you broke my skirt!" You whine. Naked from the waist down he ogles you before tutting his teeth sarcastically.

"It really bothers me, hermosa," Your shirt is slung overhead and abandoned somewhere on the floor.

"Good girls don't talk back."

You can tell he's drinking you in from the moment he stands back, but he's pulling away more and more until you don't feel his warmth anymore and you realise the error you've made.

"W-wait... come-come back!" Your words dejected, giving him doe eyes as he mimics them way better than you could.

"Bad girls get punished. Rub your clit, get yourself off." It drives a pathetic sound from your mouth before you plead to him.

"Please, no. Please – Javi, Javi please. I'll be good. Please, Javi!" Sitting up, you beg him, undo the sheer bra so your tits pop out from it. Both of you bare in his bedroom.

You can see that makes his cock undoubtedly ache.

"Oh, querida. You're gonna have to do better than that." Arms crossed, he watches as you part your sticky legs, exposing your folds to him again and he hums in approval.

"Let me see how you do it."

You're so deep in it with him, it feels like you've been doing this regularly. How he knows your body, helps you discover little things you didn't even know you were into.

It relieves you to let out wanton moans, your fingers spanning your slick, opening yourself up on cue. Fingers roll, pinch, glide your clit in a hypnotic motion.

It sends you close to the edge, but you can't quite find it with the prospect of Javi inside you.

You keep staring at his cock.

The way precum collects at the head, the girth of him. You could only imagine how deep he would be. Unsure if you could take him all.

"I need you, Javi. Javi, please. Please give me your cock. I'm sorry, I wanna be your good girl!" Torture rocks your throat, and right before you force a dull orgasm from yourself Javi takes your wrist, pushing it away from your core.

"We have to use a condom, baby." It's his way of telling you yes, and you sit up zealously, understanding and willing to do whatever it takes.

Because in reality, he's right, and that almost causes you to stop. Like those dreams you have where you wake up and instantly flock to your husband. Overcompensating.

But this wasn't one of those dreams, and you wanted this so badly it stung.

Javi goes to his nightstand, slicking lube on his cock before sheathing it in the rubber protectant. You certainly don't feel upset that you have to use it, but it leaves you curious what his skin feels like slipped inside of you.

Already coveting his presence before it even began.

But that's the thing, there's no slipping here. When he comes around to make sure you're both lubricated enough for the barrier, you see just how fat his cock is as it bulges from the condom.

Your legs unfurl, chin lining forward as you watch him. Javi keeps you on your back for now, draping your legs over his shoulders. No, he doesn't slide inside of you, he stretches you to such completion your body pulses repeatedly, coming completely undone.

It almost feels too much at first, this position – as deep as it was, but the way you're groaning has you both believing you can take it. Just in time for your sex to push him out of you.

Your muscles all too tight, beginning to worry he's too big.

But that doesn't stop you.

"Mierda, you need it that fucking bad, bebita?" His words make you weak. Because immediately you go between your legs, inviting him back into the innermost part of you without him needing to do it himself.

Javi's lips crash against yours, taking time in burying himself all the way to the hilt. But he doesn't move a muscle.

He stays there, admiring above you. The way your mouth parts, nipples becoming alive at the sensation. "Eres hermosa," more of a mumble, his lips brush and decorate the inside of your calves. The tip of his nose slightly bending against the skin.

It starts to become unbearable, your hips shifting up, but you find it is working. That your muscles relax and are able to take. "I can take it," you incline, not noticing you're heaving shallow breaths until the words leave you in pieces.

"Can you?" Javi asks condescending, thumbprint teasing the split of your clit, rasping at the way you convulse your whole body from contact.

He can't take it anymore, your hold is too strong over him. Javi, compelled to fuck you, drives his cock in, proprietorial in its approach.

You're almost oversensitive, unsure of the statement you just announced because you find yourself swallowing hard, your throat dry. Fingernails claw at his forearms as his large paws grip your waist for leverage. Your pelvis bucking up because like his fingers before, his length is hitting your g-spot and it's too much – you have to screw your eyes.

But Javi doesn't reprimand you for it this time. Instead he hovers over you, sending your ass off of the bed and him deeper than ever before. Right against your cervix now. Causing your mandible to unhinge, pitiful sounds expel your lungs. It's just too good.

"You can take it, baby," Lustful words right there at your ear, you beg in way that makes you want more.

You stroke his hair, tugging the strands – scratching his scalp. His body mercilessly colliding with yours. All sweat and skin, balls eager to tap against the curve of your ass, and all of those sounds fill the room. The sounds of your sex.

"Javi, please. Tell me." It's magic, he doesn't hold it against you that you're not being completely direct. He's understanding, and wants this for you again. The gears connecting that you need to be talked and fucked through it.

"Tell you what, cariño? How I want you to cum for me?" His glistening covered brow presses against yours, hairs stick to both of your foreheads. "How I make this pussy feel so perfect you have to explain why you're limping tomorrow?"

Fuck, you're a mewling, writhing mess.

"Let go for me, ángel," his dark, pleading eyes invite you to jump over the edge, "That's it. That's fucking it, baby. Cum for me."

Your skin trembles like a live wire. He's pulling another orgasm out of you and you don't even know where it's coming from or how he could get you to do it again. But you are. It shows up in your fingers curling, your thighs fluttering until streams of your sex leak from around his cock in your climax.

You're speechless. Moans come from you, yes, but you're so fucked out there's no words that could be put together to describe how fucked you really are.

Your legs fall on either side of Javi's waist, and there's a moment of cognition as your hand reaches to touch Javi's face. "You are so handsome," it slips out before you can stop it, but you don't want it to. Your thumb finds the divot at his bottom lip. Recall the way he tastes of you now. The tops of your fingers stroke his clean shaven cheek.

A face so hauntingly beautiful for a human up to no good. You knew snippets of his past, but his pout nudging against your palm tells you more than any story. Lets you know exactly who he is. You knew the truth.

"Get on your back, honey." You encourage, coaxing his cock out of you – still hard and dying for release.

Surprisingly, he does what he's told, unable to stop himself from kissing your cheek and you swallow down words.

No need to complicate things further.

So you climb on top of him instead. "Shit, cariño. Look at you." That makes you blush, his warm and strong palm splays on top of your breast to brush a digit over your nipple and you shiver. Tentatively, you take him back in and make an oomph sound. He somehow feels deeper like this.

You're intentional in the roll of your hips, but the pace is far too slow for Javi. He needs you, needs the chase of something. "Let me," he grits, pulling your chest onto his and pins your arms behind you in his own bear hug.

The way he digs his heels into the mattress to fuck you, to use you to get himself off is borderline degrading but his quiet praises against your skin has you lit up again in ways you don't anticipate. He slaps your ass hard enough to leave a mark before petting where you connect. This leaves your sticky sweetness to cover his lap in no time.

"Hermosa, h-hermosa," his voice staggers at the shell of your ear, hips erratic while it feels like he's fucking you into oblivion. "So fucking good for my cock, pretty girl."

You have orgasmed so many times now it feels automatic when it happens again, but this time you take note of his arms tightening around you. A hand in your hair. "Just like that, just– fuck. Take it." It almost sounds like a resignation, but his waist pounds you both into another wave of pleasure until he emptied inside of you, filling the condom.

You both stay still. Spent. Relaxed. Eyes bleary, the two of you collapse into assuage.

A pile of shuddering, panting limbs tangle together in the wake of something devious and beautiful.

"Pretty, pretty girl." You hear him say into the top of your head. The hint of affection aches at your heart.

It's then you become acutely aware of how tight your wedding band feels around your ring finger.

---

Javi lights a cigarette in the middle of your afterglow, and it's intimate, him sharing it with you. You hold it, sobriety taking your head, and it frightens you when you don't pull away from him as you begin to think more clearly.

In fact, you roll onto your stomach. Body half-slung onto his, your tits pushed together perfectly as you sit up your elbows.

Taking the cigarette between your lips, you inhale, leaning to him as you push the smoke to billow into his mouth. He exhales the rest through his nose and your tongue tastes the plush lips in front of you because, fuck, it might be the last time you can.

"What do we do?" You ask after a while. It's quiet, and you give the stick back to him by dangling it between his lips.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing." His words muffled by it, he takes a drag before leaving it to burn between his fingers. He puffs the smoke away from you. "You stay with him, bebita. You work it out. And when you need to be fucked, you call me. When he's being a cabrón, you call me. I'll make you forget about him."

Your survey the curtains in his room, the blue glow of dawn tempting to bring another day forward. You don't like his idea, but that doesn't make it wrong.

"You mean you don't want to run away together?" You joke, your eyes conveying, no really it's a joke. I swear. And he runs his fingers across your cheek to pinch it lightly, lips pressing together when he shakes his head 'no'.

"You know we can't do that."

The words bring Julian back to life. Shows his existence in a way that doesn't make you want to push him away. Through the love Javi has for him.

Despite it all, love. A common goal the two of you have for the man who is probably worried sick over you.

Just before guilt tempts to wrap its vengeful claws around your throat, Javi stops it in its tracks.

"You took what you wanted. That's all."

You nod compliantly, not willing to argue in order to savour the moment. Your head brushes against his chest and you close your eyes. If only to capture this feeling a little while longer.

You allow his words to integrate, and swallow down the antagonist of his statement: that there was more you wanted. You were certain the chase of this, the irrevocable quench from throes you shared with Javier, would not just die down.

Terrible that you didn't want it to. You would take what you wanted.

[urhoneycombwitch]

in sickness, to cherish

foreword: so excited to release this lil’ babe into the world. PTSD and trauma healing is of special interest to me, I hope you enjoy 💖 (p.s. from my limited research I don’t think they would have used a heart monitor for low-risk patients but it is literally integral to my plot so I’m breaking my anachronistic purity rule. soz)

wc: 3k

cw: descriptions of seizure, PTSD + hospital/medical trauma for the whole gang, brief mention of non-consensual drugging, R is referred to once as “Mrs” & “girlfriend”, angst w/ comfort

___

The mounted clock on the wall of the dingy Hawkins Memorial waiting room ticks over to nine PM, a brutal reminder that time (for everyone else, at least) has not, in fact, stopped.

Nine o’clock. As you pace from one end of the plastic chair-lined aisle to the other, you run the numbers in your head, fingers spastic at your sides- it’s nine right now, and Steve was admitted just after six, which means they’ve been running tests for three hours, even though the charge nurse said it should only take one…

”You wanna step outside for a smoke?”

Eddie speaks up from his seat at the end of the row, catching your bleary gaze before you’re turning on your heel again to complete your looping track.

His voice cuts smoothly over the buzzing fluorescents, the old television in the corner droning with last week’s news cycle; it’s enough to disrupt Robin from her half-sleep against Eddie’s shoulder, blinking into consciousness and stretching her stiff limbs as you respond.

“No, thanks.” Your hands slip to the inside of your elbows, squeezing through layers of soft cardigan in a near-bruise, feet continuing the rhythmic pacing. “You can go, though- I’ll make sure Robin comes to get you if anything happens.”

Eddie clears his throat, sinking back into the hard plastic, rings clicking at the armrests. “Nah, I’m good without one. Just thought you’d want a change of scenery, maybe some fresh air would calm-”

“I’m staying here.”

There’s a sharpness to your voice, a rarity- Robin winces, fingers in her lap twisting and fidgeting as she tries to change the subject. “God, Steve’s gonna be spitting mad when he wakes up. He’s the most doctor-adverse person I know.”

Eddie latches on to this with a humorless chuckle- “Stubborn bastard. Wouldn’t let those lab goons go near him, even after last year-”

“Fuck.” The swear comes from the bottom of your toes, even as you swivel on the balls of your feet to loop back in front of your friends; their faces snap to you, a blur of motion as you pass them again- “You’re right. Steve fucking hates doctors. I should’ve-”

Your next breath comes stilted, fingers a vice-grip on your own arms as you pace, pace, pace- “I should’ve treated this like taking a dog to a vet. Crushed up some pills in his food, or something- he never listens to me when I nag him about his hearing getting worse- do you know how many meals, how many glasses of water we share, every day?”

From the corner of your hazy vision, Robin’s gone still and pale, her voice tremulous- “I didn’t mean to imply- this isn’t your fault, you know-”

But you’re not ready to hear that, guilt surfacing like a sick wave, tears pooling, moments away from spilling over, voice trembling with anguish- “Could’ve been so easy, tell him we’re going for a ride, load him up into the passenger seat, he goes to sleep and I could’a passed him right off to a doctor, to someone who could have prevented this-”

Eddie rises from his seat to stand in the middle of your path, hands lifting to soothe and appease, but you’re still in flight mode, like a bird beating its wings against the confines of its cage.

You flinch away from his touch, standing with your back turned to them both, staring out the dark window, unseeing. “You know what Steve said to me? Right before he hit the ground? He said, ‘Don’t panic, I’m gonna pass out, try not to let my hair get too messed up.’”

An edge of misplaced humor draws a dry laugh from your throat. The dark window reflects your own face back- tear-streaked, red veins encroaching on the whites of your eyes- as you shake your head in disbelief. “He made a joke. To try and distract me from the fact that he was about to hit the ground and go all… all spastic-”

Unbidden flashes of memory surge to the forefront of your mind: victims of last spring. Twisted forms snapped at the bone, Max’s arms and legs bent at horrifying angles, plaster casts from head-to-toe, freckled face still and sallow against the starch-white hospital sheets-

A leather-jacketed form in the reflection behind you, Eddie’s hand solid on your back against the shuddering breaths wracking all the air from your lungs. You don’t flinch away this time.

Your beautiful boy. Steve. With his eye-crinkling smiles and sharp wit and gentle heart, stiff as a board in the middle of your living room, eyes rolled back in his skull like a downed deer, unreachable, just three hours ago.

“I thought it was Vecna. It’s been so long but I thought he’d come back, somehow, I was this close to running upstairs and grabbing our Walkman-”

”But you didn’t.” The hand at your back is joined by another at your arm as Eddie pulls you to face him, his gaze locking on your own, brown eyes full of grave compassion. “You heard the nurse. She said tipping him on his side was the best call you could’a made, sweetheart- you saved him.”

”But I didn’t know,” you insist, “I didn’t know that’s what would help, I just did it ‘cuz I was worried he was going to choke on his own tongue-”

“Semantics. You intuited it, then.” One of Eddie’s hands leaves your arm briefly to make a dismissive gesture through the air- “Which, in my book, is all the more impressive.”

Unconvinced, your voice small and tightening along with your chest- “What if this happens again, and he’s alone, this time? What if he’s working one of his three closing shifts a week, without Robin- what if he’s driving?”

You can’t help the spiraling of your thoughts, what-if scenarios jumping in line, each one more horrifying than the last.

Robin rises to stand beside Eddie, opens her mouth- to deny, to comfort, it’s unclear- but is interrupted by a new nurse who’s just appeared in the doorway.

“Mrs. Harrington?”

This snaps you back to earth, a bit, another watery laugh as Eddie takes a step back, allowing you to swipe at the mess of tears on your face before turning to the nurse- “Yeah. As good as, I guess. How’s he doing?”

With a last look at your friends, the nurse leads you down sickeningly-bright corridors while reading from a clipboard- most of it’s medical jargon, your foggy brain struggling to keep up as you stay on her heels.

What you gather, as you’re led to his room, is nothing new- Steve’s had a seizure, likely due to the trauma his brain incurred from the ‘earthquake’ of ‘86, and it’s unclear what triggered it, or if it’s likely to happen again.

“We’re going to keep him overnight, just to monitor his condition.” The nurse stops at a door labeled Room 202, hinges squeaking as she pushes it open. “He was really lucky, this time. Must’ve had a good guardian angel looking out for him.”

Heart thrumming thick in your throat, you almost ask the nurse to wait, to give you a second- maybe a quick bathroom break to splash some cold water against the tear-tracks, or even an extra few seconds to pretend at being stoic- but she’s already ushering you in with a kind smile.

The nurse pulls the door shut, and you’re left alone with the boy in the bed.

He looks exhausted, dark circles pulling at the soft skin below his eyes, which are full of relief, trained on you as you approach.

“Hey, there’s my girl.” There’s a scratchy quality to Steve’s voice, on its way to being lost.

You were doing really well, no crying or anything, before he spoke. But hearing him, paired with the awful sight of a medical cord wrapping around the width of his broad chest, has your face crumpling in an instant.

“Oh, shit. Aw, honey. C’mere-” Steve reaches for you, halfway to sitting up off his supporting pillows, and you quickly close the gap, sitting near his hip on the bed.

“No, hey- stay down,” you chide through the tears, pushing at the shoulder of his white hospital tee. “Don’t put any stress on your body.”

“Cut the stress, she says,” Steve grumbles, leaning back against the stack of pillows but compromising by pulling you in closer. “My baby’s crying, and she tells me no stress?”

His left palm slips over your cheek, thumb swiping away tears, while his right hand- IV taped flat over the back of it- slides to rest on your waist.

”Gonna tell me what’s wrong, hm?”

Under different circumstances, you’d laugh at his question- christ, where did he want you to start: but with that amber gaze so full of empathy, desperate to fix what’s making you sad, you’re stripped raw with sincerity.

”I was just- I was so scared, Steve-”

Steve pulls your face towards his, needily, a breath away from begging for a kiss before you lean in for one.

He tastes salty, like sweat and tears, lips plush and softly seeking against the seam of your own. Between the kisses, he’s mumbling apologies, “sorry, so sorry”, broken by the need to be as close to you as all the medical gear will allow.

There’s a soft noise from the back of his throat, and you pull away just enough to bump your nose into his, hands running up to push through the soft strands of his hair.

Steve practically purrs under your touch; you’re careful not to disturb the tubing wrapping around the length of his chest, leaning your weight into his shoulders instead.

A vein of hilarity spikes as you remember Steve’s last words before he went under: and here you were, fingers pulling at his dark roots, breaking his one request. When you start to giggle, Steve’s eyes pop open, baffled, hair sticking up at the ends when your fingers leave his hair. Both hands now squeezing at your hips, he feels left out of the joke- “What?”

“I just- nothing. Never mind. I’m really glad you’re okay.” It’s the truth. You frame his lovely face with your hands, kissing his forehead once before sitting up fully. “I don’t wanna fight about it here, okay? Let’s just focus on you feeling better, and then-”

“See, now, wait a minute-” Steve holds up a finger to interrupt. “You don’t get it. I’ve been hoping and praying for hours now that my pretty girlfriend would come in here just so we could have a good fight.”

He tweaks at the skin of your hips (with the IV-hand, so you can’t just smack it away, dammit), smiling up at you far too dreamily for someone reclining in a hospital bed.

Settling against the length of Steve’s torso, your arms cross over his stomach just under the tubing as you start, carefully- “You know, Max had one of these- when she was in the hospital?”

”Yeah, you’re right.” Steve’s hands worm their way under both your cardigan sleeves, seeking out the comfort of skin like a magnet- “Think it tracks heart rate. Or something.”

“Mm-hm. And… you know how she had to go to physical therapy three times a week? For, like, half the school year?”

Steve’s thumbs swipe absently at your wrists, a line pinched between his brows, trying to piece together your angle. “…yeah?”

“Takes a lot of time, to heal from something like that.” Your eyes drop to his chest, throat swelling with the effort of holding back a sob. “And I’m just- just thinking of all the times you might be alone, and how we could have prevented this, and-”

“Hey, hey, hey- shhh…” Steve soothes, shaking his head. “Honey, it was inevitable, okay? Nothing we could’a done. The doc told me this shit can happen, like, years after a big event. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Fighting against the wall of emotion that makes speaking harder, you return his head shake, desperate for understanding- “But you can’t promise that, baby. You had a seizure- an actual, medical emergency, and… we don’t know if it’ll happen again.”

With a purposeful straightening of your spine, you state, resolutely: “I want a different promise.”

Steve presses the crown of his head back into the pillows, melodramatic, resurfacing with a tsk. “So stubborn. What promise you want, then, huh?”

”I want you to promise that you’ll see a doctor- a real one. A head guy. Not some… family medicine quack.”

Steve grins, charming even while unusually pale- “I love it when you talk medical, really gets me going-”

He decides to bail on the rest of that sentence when he sees the flare of irritation on its way to real anger in your face, raising both hands in appeasement- “Okay. Hey- I promise to see a real head doc. I don’t intend on putting you through this again.”

WIth a sigh, you surge forward again, mumbling “Thank you” into Steve’s lips, a kiss of relief and gratitude. Best news you’ve heard all day.

His groans vibrate through you, hands running down the length of your side, near the bottom of your cardigan; you squeak at the intrusion of his cold palms on the bare skin of your waist but they warm quickly, and you’re willingly distracted as his tongue presses against the seam of your lips.

Perhaps not exactly hospital-appropriate, but as it’s been an evening full of adrenaline-filled panic and heartache, you figure some making out might be a good cure for the both of you.

“Won’t scare you like that again,” Steve says, lips already pink and spit-slick, intense and breathless as he clings to you between kisses- “Gonna be okay. You saved me, angel. Love you s’much…”

Your hand, previously resting on Steve’s knee, automatically slides up at his words, notching into the soft expanse of his inner thigh over the thin sheets- “Love you too, so much…”

A bright, electronic noise jolts into frantic beeping- the monitor that Steve’s hooked up to is loud enough to startle you into sitting up.

There’s no time to process or even rearrange yourselves before the nurse from earlier bustles into the room to glare at the machine’s screen; best you can do is a swipe across your mouth, hopefully hiding any evidence of moments-ago spit-swappage as you stammer out, “Um, yeah, sorry- h-he was trying to sit up and that set it off, I guess…?”

Steve lies placid and amenable against his pillows, giving the nurse a gold-medal grin, which unfortunately does nothing to allay her suspicions.

“Uh-huh.” The monitor alarm is stopped short with the press of a few buttons, and she gives Steve a sideways look, clipboard tucked under her arm- “You ready for your other visitors, Mr. Harrington, or should I give you a few more minutes?”

“Bring forth the party, Patricia.” Steve folds his hands behind his head, wincing when his IV gets bumped but covering it with a wink.

Nurse Patricia leaves. You cover your heated face, mortified- “Oh my god. She probably thought I was giving you a handjob or something, jesus, Steve-”

He’s outright laughing at you now, unable to help it- “Come on, no she didn’t. And even if she did…”

Steve is momentarily distracted, frowning down at his chest, following the monitor’s line to the machine; you watch through cracked fingers, his face lighting up, triumphant. “See, I bet if we unplug it from the wall same time as disconnecting it from here, we might be able to fit a handy under the radar, after all!”

Robin and Eddie enter the room just as you’re swatting Steve’s shoulder; over your subdued and mildly horrified laughter, he groans in faux-pain: “God, you two got here just in time. She’s beating me up for no reason.”

As Eddie settles into the plastic chair under the opposing wall’s window, you scooch down the mattress, patting the side closest to Steve with an encouraging smile at Robin.

She takes the seat, appreciative, her clammy hand slipping into yours for support as she addresses Steve: “Y’know, if you did this to get out of doing inventory this weekend, you could just say so.”

“You caught me, Robs,” Steve says, thumbing over her knuckles fondly. “Finally gonna join my conspiracy to make Keith’s life hell?”

You’re about to cut in, emphasizing that no one else should be making any hospital visits, when a metallic screech has the three of you on the bed whipping around.

Eddie’s managed to crack the barred window- judging by the sound, it hasn’t been opened since the 70s. He freezes with all the attention, then speaks around the cigarette clenched between his lips, suave again- “Pardon the interruption. Anyone else care for a smoke?”

Everyone in the room blinks at him, in various stages of disbelief; Steve starts laughing, first, which gets Robin going, and eventually you, too, until Eddie’s grinning around the cigarette, lighter halfway to his mouth as he chuckles- “Well, can’t say I didn’t offer…”

Robin makes a comment about nicotine fumes, which quickly devolves into her and Eddie fiercely bickering.

The elevated chatter of your friends fades into the background as Steve takes your hand atop the sheets, head tilted to get you in his line of sight again- love you, he mouths.

Love you, too.

[nightlyrequiem]

hiya requiem !!

okay sooh kinda stupid request BUTTT can i request something along the lines of running a rival cartel against Val .. then she finds you sellin on her block and she thinks ur jist mad stupid because like?? ( ・－・)

butttt then when she messes ya up and like kidnaps you or wtv you're like 'i sold here for your attention not for money' yaknow?? (∩_∩)

then we just have confuzzled Valeria, pining 😞

soz if this is too specific !!! as always thanks soso much in advance :3

-🃏🌀⭐️

Hiya Jester!!

I love this request. Writing a dumb little lovesick reader inconveniences Valeria just to get her attention is so fun.

No worries! I actually super love when requests are specific!

Ugh. I need her to beat the living daylights out of me like literally

Tags/Warnings: WLW, Mentions of Drugs, Mild Violence, Mostly Lighthearted Stuff

Attention Seeker

"What do you mean nobody is buying from you?" Valeria growls dangerously. Scowling at one of her dealers as he shifts uncomfortably, not wanting to be on the receiving end of her fury. 

"It's not just me." He says quickly. "The others are struggling for customers, there's another cartel that just popped up - real small though, practically just a gang." He continues quickly.

"Why is this the first time I'm hearing about it?" Valeria snaps. There's a threat to her business and nobody thought to tell her? "Who is running it?" She demands. When she gets her hands on them, she is going to skin them. The audacity they have to encroach in on her territory.

"... I'm not sure, some woman." He replies quietly, he seems to relax a bit now that Valeria has someone else to be mad at. That's usually how it goes. People playing hot potato with Valeria's anger.

The presence of competition explains why the market has been dry lately. She's going to find her and crush her like a bug. Watch her insides spill out. Valeria turns back to the man. Face twisted into it's usual dark scowl.

"How did you find out who it was?" she asks impatiently.

"Well... she was the one selling." He admits. "I asked her about it and she said she pulled together a few people to start up a 'business.'"

Valeria looks at him blankly. "You were face to face with this woman and didn't think to kill her." She says, astounded by this man's incompetence. "Or at the very least bring her to me. You just... walked away."

The man grimaces and avoids her gaze. "She was very friendly, and open with information I didn't know what to do." 

"Get out."

Valeria sits at her desk rigidly. Limbs stiff with anger. For weeks she's been losing money and she had no clue why. Just to find out it's because she's being upsold by some... friendly woman? "Oh, I just pulled together some people for a fun business adventure selling hard drugs in someone else's established territory, hee-hee." Nobody just randomly wakes up one day and decides to form a cartel. Nobody can just do that. It takes intelligence, and skill, and power. Valeria worked her ass and tits off to get to where she is, and this woman thinks she can just stroll in like life is sweet? Valeria clenches her fists and takes some deep breaths.

Three days later she's prowling the block you were spotted on. She got your description from that dealer and now she waits. Her men wait in a black, nondescript car nearby, waiting for her signal. People go about their days. Families out on strolls with their children, paying no mind to the armed men around them. This is their normal. Anything else would only disrupt things. There. She watches you stride out from an alley. Valeria would have never been able to tell that you sell drugs. Yet there you are, paper bags clutched in one hand. You don't even notice Valeria as you walk by. Moving with a purpose. Intent to sell.

Valeria follows after you. You're so dumb that you don't even look over your shoulder. That's when she grabs you. She slaps a hand over your mouth and roughly drags you away. You attempt to struggle but Valeria curls her lip into a sneer at how physically weak you are. The car squeals up next to the both of you and the door opens, a large man bags your head and hauls you inside. Slamming the door behind him.

Your vision is obscured to beige blurs as your shoved to the floor. It's hard and cold. A place that never sees the sun. You try to stand when you get kicked in the ribs, sending you sprawling. Air is pushed from your lungs in a painful gasp. Another sharp kick is delivered.

"Stop!" You wheeze.

The bag is pulled from your head, allowing you to see the room and your attacker. It's Valeria, who looks nothing short then pissed. "Who do you think you are?" She snarls. Her foot lands painfully in your stomach and your vision swims. She grabs you by the hair and roughly tilts your head back to look at her. "Do you think you're smart? trying to sell on my turf? Stupid bitch."

"Valeria." You mumble. Body relaxing at the sight of her. She's even prettier up close. High cheekbones, the beginnings of crow's feet, dark eyes. What a woman.

Valeria is taken aback by your expression. Her brows furrowing at your lack of fear.

"Why the hell are you looking at me like that?" She asks sharply. Do you not believe she's a threat? "You aren't going to be so happy when I beat the shit out of you, coño."

"I can't believe it." You gush, lips twisting into a wide grin. "You noticed me!" Your laugh is piercing and ecstatic. Valeria lets go of you and takes a step back.

"What are you talking about?" Her voice is laced with frustration. You sit up straighter and smile at her like she just handed you a million dollars.

"I'm so happy to finally meet you!" You say. "I admire you so much. You're so strong, I mean, I don't know of any other woman who does something like this. Running a cartel? And using a fake identity? God, you're brilliant!"

Valeria stares at you, not even sure how to respond. Should she hit you again? "Why were you selling on my territory?" She demands. "You think you can just take my money like that?"

"Oh no, I'm not doing this for money." You shake your head, voice full of disinterest. "I tried to find other ways of getting close to you, but your people are so unfriendly. I tried to join your cartel but they pulled a gun on me and told me to 'get the fuck out of here.'" You explain. Just casually dropping this information.

Hearing that you wanted to be close to her raises major alarm bells in her head. She unholsters her pistol and aims at it you threateningly.

"Why do you need to be closer to me?" she asks. "You a fed?"

You frown. "No. I just really admire your work."

"I don't understand."

She stiffens when you stand. "I want to be just like you." You say. Your eyes dart over her face, drinking in her features like well-aged wine. "I want to apart of your life."

Valeria understands there may just be something wrong with you. she lowers her gun but doesn't drop it. Still not fully convinced you aren't a threat.

"You came here and trespassed... to get my attention. You wanted me to seek you out." She reiterates flatly. "Just to make sure I'm understanding correctly."

You smile and nod. Glad she finally gets it.

"Exactly." You reply calmly.

Valeria isn't sure how she feels about that. You're strange and not well, clearly. But she's never had someone so interested in her that they'd put themselves in danger just to meet her. It makes her feel powerful. In control. "Is that it?" She asks boredly. "You just wanted my attention?"

"Yes."

"Well you got it." She says with annoyance. Rebolstering her gun. "If I catch you selling drugs again, I won't hesitate to put a bullet through your head, do you understand me?" Valeria gets in your face, trying to intimidate you. Instead, she just witnesses your pupils dilating.

"Sure." You nod, sounding breathless. Valeria doesn't know if it's because you were kicked in the ribs or something else. "Do you want to go on a date with me?" 

Valeria recoils, expression souring. "No." She says bluntly. Turning away from you. She'll have one of her men relocate you.

"Please?" You plead, sounding pathetic. "Just one date? There's this amazing restaurant and lounge on fifth, I'll pay."

"I'm not going out with you." she grunts. She still hasn't called in her men.

"Then can I work for you? I have a way with people, I can make you so much money as a dealer."

That offer certainly piques her interest. You have a point, she thinks. You're pretty and friendly and she can see that doing well with drug addled clients.

She puts a hand on her hip while she considers your hopeful expression. Valeria imagines what it would be like to have someone so infatuated with her working under her. she'd have your guaranteed loyalty. A part of her also likes the way it feels.

"Fine." She relents. "But if you fuck up even once, you're gone."

You smile happily. Looking like an idiot.

[nhlclover]

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 | 𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐂𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘

summary: a rare spur of jealousy leads to misplaced anger against your boyfriend

warnings: slight angst, kissing, NOT proofread soz

a/n: he is doing so good in the tournament rn

word count: 1.3k

Being Rutgers girlfriend doesn’t demand much. He likes kisses, taking me on dates, and just simply being in each other's presence. However, being Rutgers girlfriend also means I double as a hockey girlfriend. This means attending all the games, being there so that he can vent about the games and being a motivational speaker. I truly didn’t mind it though. Getting to see him live out his dreams made it all worthwhile.

Tonight was another game, this one against Ohio State. Normally I attend the games alone and sit in a section separate from the student section. However my friends, after seeing a video from the UMich hockey account that showed Mark fighting another player, wanted to come and see a game. This also meant they wanted to sit in the student section so they could “be in the thick of it”.

We joined the sea of students, also dressed in blue and yellow. Some people around us had signs, most of them chirping the opposing team, Ohio State. When the boys skated out, the student section roared. People banged on the glass, pumping up the others while they did their warmups. The noise only slightly diminished as the game started, with chants starting every few seconds. By the end of the 2nd period, it was 2-0 for Michigan. The student section was slightly less rowdy, as people went to the concession stands.

“Okay, but number two was the best, right?”

The mention of my boyfriends' number made my ears perk up. I look at the three girls sitting in front of us who are the only possible owners of the voice.

“His last name was McGroarty, go look on Instagram.” One of the girls says.

I look at her phone, see her type in Rutger’s last name, and click on his profile. “He is so cute.” She squeals.

“I don’t see a girlfriend.” Another girl says.

With Rutger's newfound fame from being drafted by Winnipeg, to UMich and the World Juniors, we thought it best to keep our relationship just between close friends and family for the time being. It was good, for the most part, except when girls would assume he was single just because he had no posts about his girlfriend.

“You know, I heard they go to Milo’s frat’s parties a bunch.” One of the girls says. “You could try and find him at the party Friday?”

There’s a twinge in my chest and my ears heat up. Who are these girls to think that they can just get with my boyfriend?

I thankfully didn’t have to endure much of their conversation any longer as the boys skated out onto the ice to begin the third period. They finished the game, winning 3-1 with Rutger securing the win with an empty netter.

We get up, walking out of the stands to where Rutger and the rest of the team will exit the building from. We’re about halfway there when I realize the girls from earlier are walking to the exact same place. The twinge from earlier returns and a wave of heat takes over my body. My friends and I stop a few feet away from the girls, who continue to talk about Rutger, adding in a few comments about Ethan and Mark.

The door opens, a few of the guys spilling out. You spot Rutger walking out beside Dylan. Before you can even get to him, the girls from earlier are by his side. They ask him about the game, telling him how well he played.

“Are you coming to the party on Friday? Beta Theta Phi?” One of the girls asks.

“Um, not sure. Maybe?” He tells them.

“Well, I’ll be looking for you.” She smiles, walking off with her friends.

I expect the twinge to dissipate as the girls leave, but it stays. Rutger joins my side, tossing an arm around my shoulders. “Hey girls, did you enjoy the game?” He asks my friends.

“Yes, are you kidding? We saw two guys start swinging at one another then proceeded to fall on their asses. There’s nothing better than that.” Melanie tells him.

“You ready to go?” He asks me. I nod in response, saying goodbye to my friends.

Johnny joins us, walking back to their shared dorm together. I’m noticeably quiet on the short walk home, letting Rutger and Johnny talk about their game while I try to navigate what I was feeling. I felt as if I was mad at Rutger, but couldn’t figure out why.

We get in their dorm, both boys flopping down on their respective. “I’m absolutely wiped.” Johnny sighs, pulling out his phone.

Rutger has his arms open, waiting for me to climb in as I normally do. When Rutger notices my hesitation, he props himself up on his elbows and looks at me with a confused look on his face.

“I think I’m probably going to sleep at mine tonight.” I tell him, stepping towards the door.

“Woah, woah. Why?” He asks, climbing out of bed and walking towards me.

“I just feel like being in my own bed tonight.” I lie straight through my teeth.

“I know you’re lying, y/n.” He says. “You always stay over after a game, plus you love to stay the night because you get to wake up in my arms.”

“Well… I just want to sleep at my place tonight.” I tell him.

Rutger's expression turns from one of confusion to one of hurt. “Babe, talk to me. What’s up?”

I glance behind Rutger's shoulder, seeing Johnny looking at us rather than at his phone. Realizing that he probably should let us talk alone, he scrambles out of his bed.

“Yeah, I’ll just… go to Luke’s or something. Maybe I’ll have a sleepover with Fants.” Johnny chuckles, pulling on some shoes quickly. He slips out the door leaving us alone.

“Can you tell me what’s up now?” Rutger asks me.

I sigh, sitting down on his desk chair. I open my mouth to speak but putting my thoughts into words seems impossible.

“I was sitting in the student section and these girls in front of me were talking about you, calling you cute and stuff, and saying how easy it would be to get with you.” I explain. “Then they came to talk to you after the game and I hated it! I don’t know why but I absolutely despised hearing them talk about you.”

I finish ranting, turning in his chair to look at him, only to see a smirk on his lips. “No way…” He says. “You’re actually jealous.”

“What? I’m not jealous.” I say, crossing my arms on my chest.

“Oh yeah, you are. You’re talking about how much other girls crushing on me is bothering you. Plus you’ve got this brooding look and your eyebrows are furrowed and you’re kind of pouting…wait.” He says, stepping towards me. “Are you trying to turn me on right now? Cause it’s working.”

“Rutger I’m serious.” I say, wiping the grin off his face.

“Sorry, sorry. But you have nothing to be jealous of. I’m all yours and no one else's.” He tells me, coming over and grabbing my hand. He pulls me up from the chair, placing his hands on my waist. “Other people are going to find me attractive and that’s something that’s gonna happen. I mean guys look at you all the time.”

“Other guys don’t look at me.” I say.

“Yeah they do, I’m pretty sure Luca had a thing for you for the first few months we were dating.” Rutger tells me, making me laugh. “Don’t tell him I told you though.”

“We’re always going to find each other being jealous of people that are attracted to the other and that’s just something we have to deal with.” He tells me. “But as long as we both know we’re committed to each other, there’s nothing to worry about.”

I give him a soft smile at his words. I lay a hand on his cheek, bringing him down to me. I softly kiss him, hoping the gesture works as a way to tell him thank you for easing my worries.

“You know,” Rutger starts as we separate. “Johnny’s sleeping… not here tonight, so we have the place to ourselves.” I laugh as he pulls me over to the bed.

[god-has-entered-my-body]

ok so now that I’ve traumatised everyone I’m requesting 22 for mpind matty!!

I’m going to sleep let’s hope I don’t dream of ginger roots shaped like butt plugs because!! that would be horrible!! anyways mwah <3

-legend anon🩵

this is sooo old i hope u still wanna see it!! don't remind me of the figging thing im positively gagging and not in a good way. Anyways onto the actually blurb length blurb

22. "Mark me. Mark me so everyone knows who I belong to."

wc: like 1k?? not much, that's for sure

content warnings: not really smut but also kinda, use of the word juxtaposition (soz guys), marking, exhibitionism, sub!Matty, teasing, jealous girlie, typical MPIND Matty cockiness

You're overreacting, you know you are. It's not that serious.

But it is.

Matty stands there, surrounded by people, all of them listening to him telling a story, hands moving erratically to emphasize his words, pausing to let people laugh at his crude humour every few seconds, most of them too drunk to even realise what he was talking about.

That wouldn't be an issue, not normally. The girl next to him is the source of your feeling of unease, hanging onto his every word and getting a bit closer with every giggle, touching his arm while batting her eyelashes, looking up at him sweetly. Something inside of you stirs at the scene, and your legs carry you across the room in direction of Matty, not stopping to think for just a second.

Pushing your way through the circle of people surrounding him, muttering quiet excuses as you walk up to the center where he stood, wrapping an arm around his waist. Matty looks at you, and you take the opportunity to kiss him, right in front of everyone. The girl that was coming onto him visibly rolls her eyes, taking a small step back and turning her attention to her drink, downing it.

A smug smile spreads onto your face as he finishes up his story rather quickly, leaving out key details as you impatiently tug on his shirt, urging him to come with you. Excusing himself, he follows you keenly, knowing exactly what got you like this.

The sound of his back hitting the closed bathroom door is loud, the sounds of his slightly tipsy giggles only making you more aggressive, feeling him up as his hands settle on your waist.

"What do you think you're doing, letting her touch you like that?" you voice is harsh as your nails ghost over his neck, tracing down the hollow of his throat.

"Jealous, are we? Didnt take you for the possessive type." Matty's grin is teasing, and he purposely throws his head back, exposing more skin to you.

"Don't act coy, its pissing me off."

"I only have eyes for you, you know that." he puntucates his sentence with a hand on your chest, softly touching your tits over your top. His movements are measured, fluid, and driving you insane.

"She doesn't know that." you hiss, mouthing at the skin of his neck, nipping and biting it. Matty lets out a satisfied sigh, leaning into the familiar sensation. Your hands find his hair, tugging it back in that way you know he loves, a soft moan spilling from his lips.

"Show her who I belong to then, mark me yours." the way he speaks is low, challenging, almost mocking you for your reaction. You shoot him an annoyed look, his smirk only spurring you on. Your teeth graze over his throat, leaving deep purple hickeys all over his neck, no area remaining untouched.

His strained sounds as you get more and more aggressive make you smile, barely giving him time to breathe between hot kisses full of teeth and tongue, directly followed by those same lips back on his skin sucking dark marks into the skin.

The bright light of the bathroom perfectly illuminates your work, the contrast of the hickeys against his pale skin make your breathing get a bit more shallow than usual, a change that doesn't go unnoticed by Matty.

"Enjoying the view?" he sniggers, cocking his head at you. The expression on your face is one he knows and loves all too well. One of lust. Passion. Adoration.

"Cocky." you mumble, trailing your fingers over his collarbones, pressing down lightly, making him hiss in pain, a filthy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Wanna show me off then, have them all see what you did to me?"

"Don't act like that's only what I want," you pull at his almost fully unbuttoned shirt, toying with the loose buttons. "We both know how much you love belonging to me." Matty goes quiet, his rapid blinking telling you everything you need to know.

"Hm. I need you to answer me, love." you can practically see him light up at the use of the pet name you use sparsely, his eyes soft as he stares into yours, lips parted slightly.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" You taunt, letting your hands cup his face in a sweet manner, a delicious juxtaposition to the condescending way you're speaks to him. Matty takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly, tongue darting out to wet his lips. It's rare that Matty gets even the smallest bit shy, but fuck, do you relish in it when it happens.

"I want people to see me, see how you own me." he smiles down at you, his hands gripping tighter onto your waist, pressing your body flush against his. The soft rumble of his voice goes straight to your core, and you clear your throat, much to Matty's amusement.

"I'm yours." he adds, a delicate finger running over your bottom lip, smudging your stick lipgloss. His nails are chipped with purple nail polish, matching his belt perfectly. His fashion sense is one of the things you love about him, not matter how 'odd' or 'girly' other people find it.

"You're mine." you speak softly, the kiss following mirrors the tenderness between the two of you, your lips moving against each other with devotion, hungrily drinking in each others reactions as they came, echoing off the tacky blue tiles of the bathroom wall.

Matty is proud, grinning wildly as you exit the bathroom, his shirt completely unbuttoned, his jeans so low waisted in was bordering on obscene. The looks the two of you got were mixed.

Some people raked their eyes up and down his body, gaze flicking between you and him before it finally clicked, their head quickly turning away from your direction.

George sees you as well, groaning as he spots the obviously fresh hickeys from across the kitchen counter, clutching the liquor bottle in his left hand. Handing you a mystery drink, he says a few words into your ear.

"Do you have to do that here? I dont want to think about you and him getting it on." George visibly shudders at the thought, shaking is head as if to get the mental image out of it.

"Soz mate, but this is payback for having to listen to your relentless shagging on Halloween." A party Matty had thrown months back for Halloween had led to George hooking up with a girl from your form, the walls proven paper thin as everyone had heard everything. You cringe at the memory, the sight of a few hickeys paling in comparison the the torture you had to endure that night.

George rolls his eyes just in time for Matty to pull you away, wrapping a tattooed arm around your waist, playing with the mesh of your his top.

"Alright?" he asks, pressing an endearing kiss to the corner of your mouth, the smell of wine filling your senses. You nod, intertwining your fingers as the two of you wade through the crowd, and you spot the girl from earlier.

Your body moves faster than your head, and you grab Matty's lower back, turning him to face you. You can feel the girl's eyes on you as you kissing him messily, taking his lower lip between your teeth as he gasps into your mouth.

Her footsteps are aggressive as she walks away, muttering under her breath. You smile against Matty's lips, content with yourself. Finally, you let go of him, your hands lingering on his chest as you trace what you left behind, a hazy feeling clouding your mind.

"Got what you wanted?" his tone is provoking as brown eyes find yours, face flushing a gentle shade of pink. The music is muted as everything blurs around you, the only thing worthy of your attention being the person standing right in front of you.

"You know 'm not done yet." you lean in to him, bringing your lips up to his ear, your breath hot against his skin.

"Far from it, actually. I'm going to show you just how much you need me, no matter how convincing your little display of confidence might me, hm?" his breath hitches at your words, his eyes darting around the room at the dozens of people surrounding you, blissfully unaware of the filthy things you're painting his fantasies with, scenes playing out behind his eyes like a film.

"Meet me outside in five minutes. Say goodbye to your little friend for me, yeah?" with that, you leave him standing there, breathing unsteady and knees weak, threatening to buckle under him.

It doesn't take long before you have him shoved up against the hood of some random car, the darkness of the moonless night concealing you. Matty's moans are like music to your ears, your lips against his getting harsher as seconds pass, feeling for like hours.

"Please, take me home. I need you so badly, please darling, i'll be so, so good for you-" you cut him off his a finger pressed to his pretty pink lips. He wants you, he yearns for you. The way his back arches forward at even the slightest tells you everything you need to know.

Who are you to deny him?

[toomuchracket]

PLS PLS PLS GIVE US POLLY KICKING D WORD MATTY IN THE SHIN LORE AHHHHHHHHHHH *that’s me screaming at the top of my lungs omg*

buckle up, babies, it's lore time.

basically, on tour, when there's no show on a sunday (or even if there is, you'll do this before or after), you and the girls (polly and gabi, and if charli and mrs mac and carly are around they'll join in) congregate in someone's room to drink wine and eat snacks and gossip and watch a movie. sunday sesh. and you all agree to make a point of continuing it after tour each week or every couple of weeks, just for a catch up, alternating whose house you're all meeting at. the first sunday after tour ends, it's your flat at 6pm. cute, nice, fun.

unfortunately for you, quite literally as soon as the plane landed back in london, you and matty sped back to yours and have been holed up in the flat doing nothing but fucking (catching up on all the sex that was impossible to have on a packed tour bus), so fervently that to be completely honest neither of you have any idea what day it is anymore. so, yes, as you can imagine, sunday comes around, and you're practically none the wiser.

anyway, you and your boyfriend order a takeaway for dinner. the intercom buzzes, and nobody speaks, so you figure it's the food. matty - shirtless, literally wearing grey sweatpants and nothing else - says "babe, you get the plates, i'll go to the door for the food", and you - wearing underwear and one of his t-shirts - agree.

the door goes. matty opens it and goes into a coughing fit. because, as you've probably guessed by now, it's not the food at all, it's the girls. all of them. and they look HORRIFIED. carly nearly drops the literal box of wine bottles in her arms in shock, but gabi grabs them before they hit the ground.

nobody really seems to know what to say, until matty decides to awkwardly lean against the doorframe in an attempt to be casual and asks "so... what are you doing here?" - charli folds her arms and says "you answer that question first, healy", and he's like "um. hanging out". polly squints at him (she doesn't have her glasses on) and says "is your face wet? why?", and matty literally cannot resist smirking and saying "you're really asking me that? they could revoke your lesbian card for that, mate"; she scoffs and kicks him in the shin like "don't be such a twat" (but she does it harder than she means to and he's genuinely like "ow! pol!"), while the rest of the girls start groaning in exasperation at him being crude like "oh my god, i can't believe she's fucking you" and "give me strength" and "well, the slut uniform makes sense now" lmao.

meanwhile, you're back in the flat wondering why matty's taking so long, so you pad into the hallway like "baby? everything alright?", and when you hear what is unmistakably mrs mac screech "baby? what the fuck?" you blanch as you realise what day it is and run to the door to save your boyfriend from the wrath of the girls. like, you stand in front of him protectively (he puts his arms around your waist it's very cute) and muster up a smile like "hi girls. forgot it was sunday. soz. how are things with you all?", and mrs mac is like "don't deflect, sweetheart - explain. now", and you sigh like "you'd better come in. matty, babe, could you wait for the food while i talk to them for a second?", and he says "of course, darling", and kisses your nose to further noises of disgust (and an "awww!" from carly lol) as the girls make a beeline for the living room.

anyway, you're like "can i have two seconds to make myself presentable?", and charli's like "absolutely not. spill" - you take a deep breath, and you tell them everything. i mean, not the d word stuff, but the rest of it; you're like "first of all, just to preface, because i know you all worry about me - it's serious. very. we're in love, guys", and despite themselves everyone smiles. gabi's like "how long have you been, y'know, a thing?", and when you're tell them that it's been like 7 months "but we wanted to wait until tour was over to say, so nobody thought it was like, i don't know, just a fling while we were away together, or that he was taking advantage of me" they're all like "jesus. alright".

matty comes back into the room just as polly says "you've seemed a lot happier on this leg of tour, to be honest. so has he, actually", and he giggles when you quip "yeah, well, it's nice having someone to fall asleep with in hotel rooms. and the other stuff that happens in there". mrs mac takes a long drink of wine and winces as matty snuggles in beside you and digs into idk chow mein or whatever, and she's like "the realisation that all of your sex stories were about matty... i feel a bit ill. i should not have asked for details about the hot tub. or the time i caught you having phone sex on the bus. or the time i heard you through the wall and you told me it was the best sex you'd ever had. christ"; matty's like "best sex you've ever had? aww, babe", and you roll your eyes while he kisses your head but you smile and kiss his hand. carly giggles like "you guys are actually really cute, you know. adam thinks so too" - matty sits up straight like "carly you did not tell the boys please tell me you didn't", and charli's like "of course we did. had it in the chat before your girlfriend even appeared. also they're on their way over, squizz and john and all, so i'd put some clothes on unless you want them to rip the piss out of you even more than they're already going to". you giggle while matty groans and trudges off to get a shirt and some leggings for you, and on his way back mrs mac corners him in the hallway and says "you know i love you, and i'm actually really glad you're happy and you're dating someone who's not a dick. but i love her just as much as i love you, and i promise you that if you ever hurt her, healy, i WILL castrate you with a pair of nail scissors. got it?"; he's like "jesus alright. but i won't hurt her, mate. she's it for me, really. gonna marry her one day. m'serious", and she beams like "oh, that's lovely. still. i'm keeping nail scissors in my bag from now on. just in case" lol. but yeah! that's how everyone finds out about you and matty lmao

[kyungjuner]

thoughts on chael w/ a dacryphilia kink...

ANON. anon listen to me.

okay me i just know chael has a big dick look at the man.. thick cock syndrome! and with that i feel he has two main kinks: size kink and dacryphilia. (as well as spit but i will not be elaborating on this yet.. i want to talk ab lun8 and spit later) he just wants to see you cry and babble and lose your senses over how big he is and how well he fills you up.

he’s being a little more mean that usual, but you don’t question it, because it’s so good. chael is holding your hips so hard they bruise, his hips pushing into you at a speed you aren’t sure can even be considered human. you clench around him, and you hear him grunt your name in a low, sultry voice followed by a string of curses.

“fuck.. y/n please..” he groans, going somehow faster than before, tears brimming your eyes as the pleasure hits you like wave.

“ch-chael please- fuck! i cant- m’gonna cum!” you felt tears brim your eyes as one particular thrust from chael sent you overboard, you expected his hips to still but no. in fact, he saw your tears spilling out, and only went harder.

"hah.. i fill you up so good you're crying? feel so full you can't even think of anything but me, hm doll?" he taunted with a smirk on his face, his thrusts seemingly getting messier as he gets closer to release.

"chael- oh fuck! chael please.. please inside..." you cried out, overly sensitive yet still begging for his release in you. his last thrusts were strong, his final thrust drawn out as you felt his cum shoot into you as tears streamed down your face.

"so pretty like this baby, all fucked out and full of my cum" chael spoke quietly as he stilled inside of you, holding you close.

this ended so abrupt soz anon love u sm

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

OK SO THE BACKSTORY (sorry for any mistakes) They meet when they were young and he was just starting off as an assassin. The mission went really bad resulting in him and Lem having to separate for a bit and he got injured. Feeling like he was about to pass out from all the running, he hid in a allyway close to Cherry's apartment complex and that's how she found him. She helped him back to her place (even if they were suspicious of each other) and treated his wound. It was mostly silent, a "are you okay?" and "what happened?" but his answers were short. As soon as she finished, he slowly got up, thanked her and left, saying his brother will worry about him.

The night after, Cherry heard the doorbell ring. She looked out the peephole to see the boy she helped and another person next to him. Putting the door chain on, she carefully opened the door.

🍊: Hi. Remember me? 🍒: Hi, yeah, I do. 🍊: Right um, this is my brother Lemon. 🍋: Hey, you saved my bro last night. 🍒: [She smiled and waved at him] 🍊: We got some pizza. As a thank you.

After some thinking, she let them in. They sat in the living room, eating pizza and chatting. Lem tells her that they're assassins and she says she figured as much. Turns out Cherry's mother is actually a handler (like Maria) and knows a lot about the assassin job. Her mother even prepared her for situations, so she had a gun on her in case they tried something. After that night, they became inseparable and started working together. Eventually, Tan and Cherry caught feelings for each other and there was tension for a good couple of months until Lem got tired and set them up. Even though they go together on missions, she mostly works in the shadows. While these two are fighting a yakuza gang, she's sneaking away, gathering intel and stealing briefcases. Other times she has to act like a lost woman looking for help, or be scared and plead with a gang leader, earn his trust enough to invite her for a drink and make him spill some useful information.

(Sorry the convo between them is awkward, I think it fits since they just met)

—

I know you said you worked through your inbox pretty fast but I didn't want to overwhelm you. Also like I said, I have a fic, two drabbles and a hc saved in my notes so if I do send something in, first I'll have to choose which one :)

Also my bday is at the end of April but thank you angel !! 💗💗

— (+ STOP HE'S SO DOWN BAD 😭😭 ditch the phones, this man will send you a letter asking you to unblock him while he's on a mission on the other side of the country) 💺 anon

OMG????? LOVE IT SO BAD!!!! it’s so well thought out too!!! it all connects so perfectly. and that our mum is a handler ??!!? love it

will always be a sucker for wound cleaning🫠

ur very sweet, but not to worry!! you’re welcome to send in whenever 💓💓

😭😭😭😭 yess!!! he makes you promise not to block him while he’s away so that he can urgently talk to you when he needs to (like if something was to go bad, he’d want to talk to you one last time) soz bit angsty lmao

ALSO OMG I HAVE TO TELL YOH SOMETHING!!

I was listening to music and one came on and I thought HOLY SHIT, that’s tan !!? wicked game - chris issak. bc when you asked me songs all I said were artic monkeys ones lol

[prinvessdior]

Possibly a sneak peak of chapter four of HOFAH I need to change the title holy shit

This ends pretty abruptly bc it’s just a sneak soz ;(

I must've turned on my heel too quick because the next second I collided with a wall face first, though it wasn't quite a wall, more like someone.

Unceremoniously, I fell backwards from the impact only being caught with an arm looped around my waist, and a cup of.. something sweet covering my favorite jacket in its sticky gooey goodness. My headphones jostled off my ears to hang around my neck, faintly I could hear a Billy Joel song playing.

"Sorry— I tried to get you before you put on your headphones." the brick wall said, oh no that was totally not cute blonde boy from the café, he was frowning looking down at my chest, woah back up buddy. I followed his gaze and realized there was a ugly brown stain in my former pink favorite jacket. My favorite jacket that I'd saved up for a month for.

"Oh," I said dumbly, still caught in the surprise of literally running straight into this guy and spilling his drink all over myself

"Uh- well I was trying to give you your drink back that you left in the café but uh." Totally not cute blonde boy said and released me his frown deepening. I hadn't even ordered a drink for myself, did he go through the trouble of buying a new one and walking all the way here with it? The chocolate was still warm as it seeped through my jacket to my sweater.

"It's-its okay!" I stumbled out flushing from the cold. Yep totally.

"I didn't really like this jacket anyway." I lied with what I hoped was a convincing laugh.

he tilted his head to the side at me, "Are you sure? That looks expensive?" Damn, how good was he at reading through lies. I strained a smile.

"I mean yeah- but it's not a big deal really!" I shook my head already peeling off the stained material.

I shivered when the nippy air seeped into the fabric of my sweater, and I was pleasantly surprised to find a new, warmer jacket wrapped around my shoulders. Totally not cute blonde boy had taken his own hoodie off, it was emerald green, like his eyes. While he busied himself I took another glance at his viridescent irises. Yeah, they were perfect.

"Can't have a pretty girl walking around in the cold." Oh god he was a flirt, my heartbeat picked up and another flush rose to my cheeks. "But- won't you be cold?" I asked though I pulled the green fabric tighter around my shoulders, he shrugged, "I like the cold."

"Could I uh- maybe get your jacket cleaned or something? I feel bad for scaring you." He cleared his throat, I held my pink jacket dumbly in my hands.

"It's okay! I can jus—"

He held his hands out in front of him for my jacket and frowned looking down at me from under his fringe. This close I really got to see him, his blonde hair was wavy and I could spot some curls near the back, it was cut in a mullet style, I thought they went out of style years ago.. but he could definitely pull it off.

"I insist." he flexed his fingers and then I noticed how big his hands were. You think if he put his palm on my face it'd cov—

NOPE. Stop it right there brain you don't even know the guy. Against better judgement I placed my favorite jacket into totally not cute blonde boy's hands and he beamed at me, it was comparable to the sun. He took my jacket and neatly folded it beneath his arms, and he was gentle with things that didn't belong to him, someone help me.

"Can I get your number? So I can text you to give back your jacket." and he was smooth I think I might melt the snow I'm standing on. I nodded a bit too enthusiastically and opened my phone, clicking on new contacts and handing my phone to him. Our fingers touched when he handed me back my phone and I let my fingers linger.

“I’m sorry again about your jacket.” He spoke up after he watched me deposit my phone into my—well his jacket’s pocket, it was muscle memory alright, totally.

[attourney-at-lycan]

i’m on fire w/ these mfking garroth posts

but in the long post i mentioned how garte would scold garroth and vylad if they interacted w/ each other when they got older and i wna elaborate a bit on that just for self-indulgence

garte’s someone who values his family image a lot, it’s why after vylad was born, he rarely let zianna out nor vylad. and he’d refuse to let them both out at the same time. for zianna it was also a punishment for cheating on him, she ruined his perfect family plans and so now, to keep her from seeing anyone else, he made sure that he knew the movement of anyone who interacts with her. when other’s would ask abt zianna he’d just mention that she’s sick and suffering from depression after the death of her third child (yes, vylad is pronounced dead bc ppl would immediately figure out vylad was not their child if anyone saw). with vylad, it’s pretty self explanatory why he won’t let vylad out, and also he’s prone to get sick easily.

anyway- MY POINT IS! garte would rather make up some stories, prevent his own family’s happiness than lose the image of a caring husband and his family who seem to love him so much. (i’d explain why lying about zianna explains this but it’ll throw me off topic im sorry uiefgweu)

it doesn’t matter if the people he’s showing this image to is the workers in the castle or passerby’s, he refuses to lose this image, to lose all his hard work as the a powerful lord in control. THAT’S ANOTHER THING. he loves control, and seeing other people go against him just makes him lose his fucking mind

but YEAH- when garte sees his favorite son, his prized possesion even, interact with a child that isn’t even his own yet freeloading in his castle, it pisses him off. he doesn’t like it!! he tries to break it up and makes sure they do not interact.

i think this is why garroth and vylad split apart around this time. garroth feels guilty for interacting with vylad bc everytime he does, he reminds garte that vylad exists and tries to make vylad’s life impossible. i’m sure that garte even does this on purpose, to hit garroth’s weakness just to separate them, to keep them from interacting with each other.

i think this fuels kinda.. vylad’s sort of jealousy? garroth’s the golden child of the family, because of garte’s attitude towards him, both zane and vylad never get the attention they want from their parents. in turn, zane feels the need to impress garte more, to hopefully one day get his approval (which garte takes advantage of) and vylad just starts to hate garte as well, wishing he were dead and shit

and that’s............... all i have again- im literally making no sense bc im just spilling out all the thoughts in my brain- i feel like i was making a point then got derailed by another thought and then derailed again- it happens too many time im so soz

[honeypiehotchner]

you’re still a traitor (Hotch x Fem!Reader) — one shot

This is all angst because my brain wanted to write something based off “traitor” by Olivia Rodrigo 🤭🤭🤭

Warnings: angst, mentions of sex, mentions of excessive drinking as a coping mechanism, no happy ending (and no there won’t be a part 2 soz)

Hotch Masterlist || Main Masterlist

brown guilty eyes and little white lies i played dumb but i always knew

Your relationship with Hotch wasn’t even a real relationship. Not in hindsight, at least. At the heart of it, though, as it was happening, it felt real. It felt more real than anything you had ever experienced.

Nothing was glorified, over-exaggerated, or unnecessary. You’ve always been a straight-to-the-point person, and so has he, so it struck neither of you by surprise when you began spending nights together on cases.

The tension between the two of you had always been high from the day you started at the BAU. He blames it on the skirt you wore to the interview. You blame it on the way he looked you up and down every chance he got.

No wonder he didn’t look surprised to find you on the other side of his hotel room door.

That first night you had said something stupid, something about the girls being lame and going to bed early. But the truth was that they were raiding the minibar, and as much as you wanted to join them, you wanted to see Hotch more.

You knew he didn’t sleep much. It wasn’t hard to conclude, not with his recent divorce, late hours, entire pots of coffee to himself, and dark circles under his eyes.

Not to mention, of course, the small throw pillow and blanket that magically appeared on the couch in his office one day.

You weren’t surprised when he opened the hotel room door, still fully dressed, minus his jacket. You were barely a fourth of a way through your explanation for turning up at his door when he pulled you inside, lips bruising yours and hands gripping your skirt.

To him, it was always the damn skirt.

That night was the first of many. No one knew. No one knows now. Hotch continued to book you a room of your own, and you continued to spend your nights in his bed.

You mastered the art of sneaking to his room after everyone was in, and sneaking back to yours before anyone woke up.

Occasionally, you’d stay back at the BAU until everyone had left, just to spend a moment more with Hotch.

loved you at your worst but that didn’t matter

No one knows this, but you’re the reason his dark circles left. The reason he didn’t stay as late anymore. Because you always coaxed him away, wanting dinner, or even just company as you walked to your car (where you’d then ask for dinner, or rightfully point out that he’s already at the parking garage, so he might as well go home).

Dinner one night turned into almost every night, except when he had Jack. Sleeping in his bed once became almost every night, except when Jack wanted to spend the night.

A label was never spoken about, but you never felt the need to speak about it. As far as you were concerned, you were the only one he was sleeping with and vice versa. Why did a label matter?

That’s what you told yourself, at least. Labels didn’t matter to you. Exclusivity is all that mattered, and you had that. You thought.

You had suspected Hotch started seeing someone else. But all you had was a gut feeling, and a feeling isn’t enough evidence.

i kept quiet so i could keep you

Soon it wasn’t just a feeling. Soon Hotch didn’t want to go to dinner anymore because he was leaving earlier than you — earlier than anyone else. Soon he started actually leaving for lunch on his lunch hour, and that’s when the rumors started swarming.

“Okay,” Garcia ushered everyone over in the bullpen. “Is. Hotch. Dating?”

Rossi chuckled. “I. Don’t. Know.”

Morgan shook his head. “Nah, that sounds like he knows something.”

“Not really,” you shrugged. “Why do we think he’s dating someone?”

“Are you kidding me?” Garcia gasped. “He just left the building on his lunch hour! I’ve never seen him leave for lunch the entire time I’ve been here.”

“Me either,” JJ agreed, to your horror.

“Maybe it’s just something with Jack,” you shrugged again, not even aware of your defensive tone.

Prentiss narrowed her eyes. “Do you know something?”

“What?” You blurted, eyes wide. “No? Am I supposed to?”

“Answering a question with a question,” Reid pointed out lowly.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” you said. You grimace, thinking about it now, but you didn’t have any energy then to know it was rude. Or to care.

You were paranoid. Horrified. You were in Hotch’s bed two nights ago, and now he was leaving on his lunch hour, and you had no idea what for. All signs pointed right where the rest of the team was thinking, but the thought made you sick.

So sick that the next night, when you found yourself once again in Hotch’s bed, you brought it up.

You tried to be nonchalant. You don’t know where it went wrong.

ain’t it funny? remember i brought her up and you told me i was paranoid

“How was lunch yesterday?”

His eyebrows furrowed. Something you used to gaze at in awe, but in that moment it made you panic. “Lunch?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “You left for lunch and the whole team thought something was up.”

He merely hummed. Hummed. That was his reply.

“Emily thought I knew where you went,” you continued, tracing circles on your arm. Normally, you’d trace circles on his chest, but that felt wrong all of the sudden. “I told them I didn’t and they didn’t believe me.”

He chuckled quietly. “I went to lunch. That’s all.”

“With who?” You asked, far too quickly. Maybe that was your mistake. You were too accusatory too fast.

“Did it have to be with someone?” He retaliated, and looking back now, you see this moment here, this was the downfall.

“I mean,” you paused. “You normally stay in your office if you’re eating alone. I figured if you left then you were going to meet someone.”

“Oh.”

You hesitated. “Did you?”

“Yes,” he finally said, ripping the Band-Aid off once and for all. “Her name is Beth. But we’re just friends.”

You nodded. “You sure?”

He turned on his side then, facing you with his head propped on his arm. “Why are you asking?”

“Because I’m curious.”

“You’re never curious.”

“You never leave the office to meet someone for lunch.” Especially not a woman, unless for whatever reason, Haley wants to have lunch and brings Jack, but the last time that happened was seven months ago, back when they were still trying to be friends after the divorce.

“I’m allowed to meet friends for lunch.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” you replied, probably too harshly. “I just meant...I don’t know what I meant.”

you gave me your word but that didn’t matter

Weeks passed by and you watched Hotch leave every now and again to have lunch with Beth. He never explicitly told you that it was Beth he was meeting every single time, but you knew. You always knew.

Because the look he’d give you as he’d close his office door, phone in hand no doubt to send a text to her, letting her know he was on his way. The look he’d give you said it all.

You knew the end was coming. Truthfully, you knew the end of the two of you was coming from the first day he met her for lunch.

You had never seen him as happy as he looked when he came back. And with every lunch date, it got worse.

Yet, for some reason, he still invited you over. And for some reason, you still agreed without hesitation.

February came and your heart broke with it.

You knocked on Hotch’s office door, bag in hand, the question of dinner on your hopeful lips.

“Can we talk?” He asked, speaking before you had a second to breathe.

You nodded, stepped inside to your demise, not even bothering to sit down. You knew it wouldn’t take long, and it didn’t.

Two sentences. That’s all it took.

“I don’t think what we’re doing is something I want long-term — for me or for you. I think it’s best if we go our separate ways.”

For me or for you. He was always thinking of your well-being. It always annoyed you.

“Okay,” you had said, cracking a small smile to hide the pain. “Fun while it lasted, right?”

“Right,” he agreed. “Well, have a good night. See you tomorrow.”

You couldn’t hold the tears in and they flowed freely before you were even out of the bullpen. You were thankful everyone had left. Imagine the explanation you would’ve had to conjure up. The web of lies he would’ve forced you to spin in five seconds.

Instead, you had to spin an entirely new web. All to explain why you weren’t sleeping, why you were drinking more, why you looked like you had cried all night the next day (you said it was allergies and insomnia; Morgan was the only skeptical one, but he let it go).

it took you two weeks to go off and date her

The real ending came when Valentine’s Day arrived. You were foolish to think he’d spend it with you, but you still did.

The jet landed back in Virginia after a long case, and you thought for sure Hotch would tap you on the way off of the jet, ask you to dinner, then back to his place, just like you did last year.

But he had made plans. With Beth.

You were delusional to think otherwise, but still, his smile cut right through you when he told Rossi he had plans.

guess you didn’t cheat but you’re still a traitor

Derek, Emily, and Penelope wanted to go out for drinks and you were the first to agree, ready to forget the past year of your life.

Thankfully, you didn’t spill any secrets while drunk. You did confess to going through a breakup, but not with Hotch. No one will ever know it was Hotch. The “he” in question will forever remain a mystery to them.

Meanwhile, you watched Hotch fall deeper and deeper in love. He decided to run a triathlon, and he trained every morning -- with her. He left for lunch almost every day to go eat -- with her. He never stayed late, he always had plans -- with her.

He hardly ever spoke to you anymore. And you never spoke to him.

It became an unspoken agreement for you to leave finished paperwork on his desk without a word (if he was in there) or better yet, to drop it off while he’s at lunch.

You sleep in the hotel room furthest from his every case.

The seats next to him on the jet are off-limits and you’ve even gone to make a shitty cup of shitty coffee before to avoid him (and everyone knows you hate the coffee on the jet).

You somehow managed to never meet or hear about Beth until the triathlon — and you were apparently the only one who hadn’t met her yet.

Jack hugged her immediately that day. He had already warmed up to her and it made you want to claw your heart out.

Beth is nice. Beth is an angel. Beth is older, prettier, everything you knew Hotch wanted and wasn’t getting from you.

She shook your hand with a smile, none the wiser to the fact that you’ve slept with Hotch more times than you can remember. That your heart belongs to him even though you don’t want it to. Even though you want it back.

now you bring her around just to shut me down show her off like she’s a new trophy

Once you met Beth, it seemed like she was everywhere. Visiting the office, bringing Hotch lunch, bringing Jack in to visit, having coffee with Hotch in the cafe you used to frequent, at Rossi’s for family dinner nights. Everywhere.

Worst of all, at JJ and Will’s wedding.

You weren’t the only one to show up without a date, yet you felt like it. Especially when Hotch arrived with Beth on his arm, glowing like always, with Jack holding onto his hand.

You avoided Hotch all night — Beth too, but mostly him — yet he somehow managed to find you alone in the kitchen.

The wine was your saving grace of the night, and he happened to walk in as you were pouring another.

“I can hear your liver screaming from here.”

A poor attempt at a joke, really. Maybe it was funny. But you didn’t laugh. “I’ll survive” was your dry reply before downing half the glass.

His face looked softer, but you know now it was the wine in your system.

“You look good,” he had said. “How are you doing?”

You stared at him. “Fine. Thanks.”

You don’t know why he kept trying to have a conversation with you. You felt insufferable and you see now that you were, but it’s all his fault.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You chuckled dryly. “Not with you.” You paused. “How’s Beth?” Paused again, this time to bring the wine glass to your lips. “How’s a real relationship working out for you?”

Hotch’s face fell. “What we had was real. You know that.”

“I know it was,” you replied. “But do you? Do you really?”

He didn’t answer. His silence was all you needed.

and i know if you were true there’s no damn way that you could fall in love with somebody that quickly

You left him standing there in the kitchen without another word. You had nothing left to say to him, and he clearly ran out of words for you.

Derek found you halfway to the dance floor.

“Woah, I don’t like that look,” he said, taking the wine from you. “What’s going through that pretty head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you lied. “Let’s dance instead. Come on.”

You drug him away, meeting Penelope and Emily for the next song. You danced, you cried, you blamed the tears on the alcohol in your system. You slow danced with Emily, Derek, Rossi, narrowly avoided Hotch by swinging into Spencer’s fumbling arms.

No one knew. No one would ever know.

you betrayed me

[1025cherrystreet]

reasons

harry and y/n exchanging vows on their wedding day

a/n: i was listening to music and feeling real lonely tonight, so i basically just wrote everything i want to hear from someone one day :) i never know how to end stories, soz! hope y'all like it, any feedback is appreciated!!

warnings: none, just fluff <3

The white chairs are filled with their family and friends. Gemma, Michal, and Anne sit on the groom's side while Y/N's parents and brother sit on her side of the aisle in anticipation. They didn't expect to be the people who have big weddings, and it's not even that big, but everyone they know is in attendance. James Corden and his family are in the audience, Louis, Liam, Niall, Zayn, and their dates all sit to watch their friends get married. Smiles adorn everyone's faces as the couple take platform at the front while Jeff (who got ordained just for their wedding!) reads off statements of marriage.

Y/N's best friend Claude is her bridesmaid (or 'bridesman' as his boyfriend, Frankie, liked to call it) and Mitch stands next to Harry as his best man. Everyone in shades of beige and sage green as it's Y/N and Harry's favorite colors.

"Y/N you can start with your vows, now." Jeff smiles at her, gesturing with his head, signaling Claude to take her handwritten promises out of his suit jacket pocket and hand it to the bride.

She mouths a watery, thank you, to Claude before turning back to face her fiancé standing in front of her. Even on her wedding day, she gives a bashful smile to Harry before clearing her throat.

"Harry." She starts nervously, "You are my person. You look at me as if I hung the stars and I can only hope you know I feel as devoted to you as the moon. The way you shined your bright light on my life is something I will never take for granted. You are my every reason. You are my lifelong dream to go to Italy and you are the endless praises I've always craved." Her hands shake in both exhilaration and trepidation.

"You are good books on long evenings... You are flowers in the middle of spring, you're long night car rides with blaring music, and you are the smell of rain on a cool evening in June. You're the cold side of my pillow in the middle of a hot summer night... the feeling of warm sun-kissed skin from showering after a beach trip...and the split second of silence when it's raining as you drive under the overpass on the interstate... You are 'that part' of a good song and the moment it would rain at school and everyone would just stop and stare out the window," She says, stray tears rolling slowly down her face, trying to ignore the way she can feel everyone's eyes on them in that moment.

"You are a pinky promise I hold so deeply... You are laughing so hard to the point of pain and you're rediscovering bagels every five months." Y/N smiles and glances up at him from her paper just quick enough to catch his chuckle as he knuckles the trapped tears in his green eyes. The last line gaining laughs from family and friends in the crowd.

"You are all of my reasons to live, H. Both the big dreams I've had my whole life and the little things I appreciate in my day-to-day. Of all these reasons to live though, most importantly.. you are Harry. My Harry. There's not enough words in the English language to convey my love for you, but I would spend the rest of my life searching for the right ones if that meant I got to spend it with you." She pauses to look her love in the eye, Harry staring right back at her with so much adoration for the girl in front of him.

She looks back down at the papers, tears catching on the edges. "So, with that, I vow to be your person. I vow to be your every reason to live another day and every small encounter that brings you even an ounce of joy. I vow to be your best friend and your indescribable love, if that's what being your person entails. I will be anything you need and everything you want, if it means we could happily grow old together."

"I love you, Harry Styles... and I can't wait to be your wife." Y/N finally lets the tears flow freely from her eyes as she stares up at her soon-to-be husband, Harry raises his hand to gently wipe them from her face with a breathtaking smile on his lips.

Tears of his own fall down, Y/N reciprocating the loving action. The two of them smile at each other for a moment, taking each other in. Harry has never felt more loved in his life, feeling honored to even be that person to someone, let alone his girl. He takes her hand and raises it to his cherry stained lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

"That was beautiful, Y/N," Jeff whispers with a grin and turns to Harry, "Now, Harry you can now read your vows."

Harry drops her hand to retrieve the hand-written pages from his blazer pocket, quickly unfolding it and taking Y/N's hand once again. He glances at her before clearing his own throat and starting.

"Y/N, I want t'start off saying I love you. I love you so much it scares me."

"Y'have no idea what y'mean to me and what all y'have done for me. Y'keep me sane when my life tries t'drive me crazy. Y'make me feel normal when my job gets too much t'handle. You make me feel loved when it feels like everyone is out t'get me and y'make me feel like Harry when the whole world wants me t'be Harry Styles," He says, glancing up from the paper ever so often, his hands shaking in turn.

"I used t'resent being known as Harry Styles. My name became a bad taste in my mouth and sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I felt like Harry Styles always had t'be polite and put together and had no room t'make mistakes. It was exhausting trying t'be perfect all the time, I started t'lose myself... But you. You, Y/N, made me want t'become someone I wasn't ashamed of anymore. Y'showed me what it was like t'feel safe and content, and y'taught me t'never be anythin' but authentic because you said Harry Styles was just as capable at love and acceptance as Harry... You made me fall in love with myself again, and f'that I could never repay you. I love you so much that I can't even explain it, but f'your sake, I'll try, so here goes..." Y/N smiles at him with glassy eyes.

"I love how y'are so kind and loving t'everyone you meet. I love how you're a hugger from the first encounter and how y'always ask people if they are okay twice, just to make sure they know y'really care and will listen if they need it. I love how y'throw spilled salt over your shoulder and believe in the stars as some form of higher power. I love how y'decide to have a dance party two in the morning 'just cause' and sing songs at the top of your lungs f'the world t'hear. I love how y'have 86 spotify playlists because 'you need one for every memory or feeling'. I love when y'show me new music and bring me t'find a new appreciation t'my craft and others'. I love how y'look at the smallest moments in life and cherish them. I love how y'take nothing for granted and live everyday as if it's your last. I love how y'always choose t'view life for its beauty and child-like innocence, than for its deception and cruelty, first."

"I love you...Truly, Madly, Deeply," He chuckles out and Y/N laughs out loud, shaking her head at him playfully. Four loud wooo!'s sound out, the rest of their loved ones laughing at the cheeky reference. "I love everythin' about you and everythin' that has made y'who you are today...I love you, Y/N. My Y/N." He proclaims with a boyish grin.

"So, I vow t'be your husband always. I vow t'be your husband when you're angry at me f'messing up the laundry and when you're crying over not feeling enough f'people. I vow t'be your husband and love you when you get tired of rewatching The Notebook every time we have a movie night. I vow t'be there for you, even if you may not want me anymore-" She scowls and swats his arm for him even thinking that, making their guests let out a good chuckle.

"And, lastly, I vow t'be your best friend and lover 'til the day we die. You are not my Allie, you are so much better. You are my Y/N and I can't wait t'create my own movie with you."

Salty tears flow down their faces as they stare lovestruck at each other, the eyes of their family and friends all fade away and it's only the two of them in that moment. Hands intertwined, lost in each other's gaze, the only thing they comprehend is the, you may now kiss one another, that comes from Jeff's mouth.

'Awes' and coos sound from the crowd, Niall and Louis cheer the loudest, the other boys smiling at the newly-weds. Gemma and Anne are bawling their eyes out, just like Y/N's parents are. But, neither of them notice any of it as Harry wraps an arm around her waist, the other cupping her tear stained cheek and pulling her in to kiss her passionately.

[asmolemmeeatyouout]

Clearing out the drafts so

Random hc’s for the boys

That I don’t wanna even try organise

CW: one non graphic mention of gore

Lucifer has misophonia, he hides it well but does frequently bend/break cutlery because of it.

(Catch Satan chewing as loud as he possibly can)

👾Levia👾chan👾🥺😳😩😖😣🍥😓😥🤢🤢🤮🥉🥉🥉 texts 🐒😈📱 📲 like 👍 🤗💃 this 😊 😊 😊 🥵 🥵😣😣😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭😏😏🤯

(🙌 Yes 🙌 👍 👏 it’s 👋 🙋‍♀️ every 💫 💫 💫 text 🙈 ☺️ 🙈 . 🚫 No 🚫 you 👨 👩 cannot 👅👀👅 make 👉👈👉👈 👁👄👁him 🛑 stop 🛑😈👿😈 ‼️❕‼️🐠 (<Henry)

Will role play as Henry (the fish, specifically) while texting you when he’s too shy to ask you things, the only hint you get is him ending every text like with ALL the fish emojis. If you refer to him as Levi not Henry during this he will SULK.

Calls your texting dry af if you don’t send at LEAST four emojis with every message

The best subtle magic belphie has is his sheets are always crisp and new

Like every night is shaved leg fresh sheets night smooth

His magic only works on his sheets so he sneaks his other washing in with beels the lazy git

Beel knows he just doesn't care

Beel does the most laundry out of the brothers bc he eats in bed CONSTANTLY

(He also eats everything he spills but that's not gonna stop the spaghetti stains- or the punishment from Lucifer when he accidently swallows the sheet too)

Beel once chewed belphies hair in his sleep

This is the main reason the twins have separate beds

If belphies asleep somewhere and wants a cuddle he will just kidnap the nearest person if no ones around, this includes little d’s and lessor demons, his magic will put them to sleep fast enough it can’t be stopped

Asmo’s body changes with trends (its fucked that body types have trends), but the devildom is slower in its trend rotation which is why he’s currently obsessed with the 2000’s esque stature (give 👏 us 👏 fat 👏 asmo 👏! ! !)

Levi has the FATTEST ass around (and cute little love handles and a soft belly, boy sits on his ass all day no way he’s ripped)

(Still has demon strength tho, but his human glamour is much less intimidating than his true demon self (think @waltnut 's form hc’s)

Satan’s whole feather boa getup is literally a cat toy. He wears it to entice cats he knows it’s ugly.

Asmodeus will take and wear your clothing without asking. This includes underwear, I suggest you get a lock for your closet.

Beel has FRECKLESS HES A FUCKING GINGER GIVE HIM FRECKLES OR GIVE ME DEATH DEVS !,!

In line with this, the first time beel went to the human world he burnt tomato red under the sun. He was not aware sunscreen was a thing due to the whole perma night devildom thing.

Stoner! Mammon supremacy

(he also deals coke bc moneeeeyyyy) (lucifer doesn’t care as long as it’s not in the house, drugs aren’t a. Illegal in the devildom, and b. that harmful to demons, it’s also his most respectable way of getting Grimm considering all his other hijinxs)

Asmo once convinced Satan to wear a sexy cat costume for a Halloween party

Satan had a sexual-identity-furry crisis in the bathroom

Devildom clothing isn’t gendered,

Asmodeus has been banned from wearing skirts in professional settings due to uh *coughcough* “accidental” flashing. (The same with crop tops/bras/see-through shirts)

Mammon and lucifer are scary similar in some respects like:

Lucifers receiving love language is physical touch and BOY is he starved. Touch his head and he will full body shudder black out for a second. Most people assume it’s acts of service bc he’s so overworked but that’s his giving, duh. (Try touch his neck and your wrist will be broken before you get close)

It’s why he wears gloves everywhere (also bc scars from the war, but I don’t remember the @ I heard that from first and I don’t wanna steal :) )

Mammon’s receiving love language is also physical touch, lucifer’s pride stops them from helping each other.

Lucifer will mock you if you get too close to his insecurities as a defence mechanism, it’s why mammon refuses to hug him even though they both need it.

Mammon just flat out denies his needs and emotions (partially due to lucifer’s defence response, partly bc him&co being abs assholes)

Mammon and asmo share the same music taste (which is GAY pop -think rina sawagama comme des garçons, Britney, gaga, montero- (I’m sry I don’t know more pop))

Asmodeus is the ‘tell you things that you think are tmi or too personal but actually mean nothing to me’ kind of honestly dishonest so no one knows his true feelings/can hurt him (me too baby !)

Beel is the only brother open about his emotions because he’ll just eat you if you dare make fun of him

Mammon offers beel food on really bad days because he’s too afraid of being mad fun of to just ask for a hug and beel showers anyone that gives him food in affection

Asmodeus LIKES violence, he thinks blood and gore is sexy, but he keeps that side of him very private as to not taint his perfect image and lower his chances of getting laid

(there are rumours and myths about what the avatar of lust likes to do to people who truly piss him off, but they’re so far removed from the Asmodeus everyone knows and loves that no one really believes them. Which is just how asmo likes it)

ALL the boys are obsessed with touching/stroking your neck/nape because there’s so much fragility there and it’s a huge sign of trust for a demon

Mammon is always warm

Levi is always cold (blooded)

When Satan gets really angry, objects near him just burst into flames

Okay I’m done now, thank u for reading !! :)

*** think I tagged the wrong creator gonna go find the right url soz guys !! (But also do check out @decaffeinated-demons they’ve got super cool ideas)

[bbnibini]

Slow Dancing in the Dark (Barbatos)🎵

"MC has Hanahaki and Diavolo is worried why MC is coughing up petals, MC is reluctant to tell him why and goes to Barbatos for advice." (anon requester) AO3 vers.

The title was based on Joji's song of the same name, but this was actually inspired by Zack Tabudlo's song, Binibini (aka "Lady/Miss" in English and yes. My name is a pun of that). I was initially planning on making this Diavolo-centric but I can't resist the second male lead ✨A N G S T✨ I apologise if it derailed from the winning request but, I still hope you will enjoy this! ;;

addendum: I wrote this in the midst of a terrible writer's block so most of the lines here are just strings of ideas rather than a narrative soz;

It had not been the first time he ever taught anyone to dance. Yet…something about the stolen nights he had with them felt…different.

“Welcome back, MC.”

No matter the time they come to him, Barbatos would always find himself smiling at them. With a bashful expression, they would smile back and offer an apology for being late, mostly due to a protective Mammon breathing down their neck, or an anxious Lucifer who worried too much about their safety—he would smile back and say he did not mind, and would offer his hand for theirs to take.

“I’m bad at this,” they would say as he takes their hand and clasps it with his. At times, he places his palm on their back to soothe the ache they felt at every cough. They would miss a turn or two and lose cadence, only for them to look up at him and smile again.

With silence as their guide, their feet glided through the dance floor with leaded steps. His heart would stop at the sight of their hands covered in blood, petals of daffodils falling on the floor.

The words he had always wanted to say would lodge in his throat, unable to be uttered. He wondered if they ever knew.

The best he could do is to offer his hand, undoing the gloves blocking him from feeling the warmth of their own. Tiredly, they would rest their head on his shoulder and breathe softly.

“I’ll be okay.” They had danced through the same conversations for millions of times now—he knew it was a lie(of course it was)…but it still hurt to see them like this.

“Is that so?” He would say back, squeezing their hand as if letting them go for even a small moment would let them slip through his fingers. He refused to look at the future doomed to happen in eventuality—he denied its existence with all of its being. To change their future would be selfish. They chose to love despite it all, so he wanted to do the same.

🎵🎵🎵

The sight of their smile upon seeing his young Master was beautiful. They had carried out the pointers he had taught them in their impromptu etiquette lessons with poise and grace. As Diavolo guided them to the dancefloor, he dared not to close his eyes at the way theirs glowed and brightened when the prince took their hand.

He looked at his own hands—remembering the bloodied daffodils he had caught there last night. An ugly feeling started to knot in his stomach.

He would never know how much you’re hurting, if you would only—

He stopped thinking then and there.

Seeing the way they looked at the happy couple made all of his jealousy and its ugliness go away—the whisper of “Congratulations”, they said to them both, no matter how well-intentioned hid the heart that screamed for him to look their way. His own heart stopped once he sighted them coughing again. The composure he had thought he already mastered was lost entirely. He rushed towards them without rhyme nor reason, and ignored the concerned comments from the confused crowd. He took their hand and left, half-tempted to leave everything behind.

“It seems I’m running out of time,” They whispered at him, cruel yet kind.

Time? What irony. What was he, a demon of time worth if he couldn’t even save the one he loved?

But he will never speak of it. The feelings pouring out of his heart weren’t meant to be said.

It was a truth they should never know. It was the last act of kindness he thought he should give them so they could leave him with no regrets.

🎵🎵🎵

“Good evening, Barbatos.”

He was angry. Why were they here? What of the final moments they have left?

As if reading his mind, they smiled at him and offered their hand. “I wanted to dance with you, one last time.”

He bit his lip and forced himself to smile back. “May I take off my gloves?”

Cluelessly, they asked. “Why? I don’t feel cold right now.”

“I do.” He answered, feeling comfortably warm as he laced their fingers together.

They were thinner and paler than the last time he sighted them. The brothers were at a loss of the reason—Lucifer attributed it to a human world illness—terminal, with no known cure. If the eldest brother actually knew the truth, he never voiced it out, perhaps as his own way to show kindness.

“I snuck out…” They laughed. Barbatos couldn’t take his eyes off them, wondering if every step they take would be their last. “Lucifer told me to get some rest but…for some reason…”

“Reason?” He forced himself to say back. He squeezed their hands tighter as they made a turn.

“…I kept on thinking about our dance lessons for Lord Diavolo’s wedding.”

“MC—”

“I really am happy for them. It’s nice to see him smiling so brightly.”

“…Is that so?”

The sound of his name coming out from their lips made his heart clench.

“for some reason…I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

Ah. He was hopeless.

“Barbatos?”

He didn’t want to let go. If he did…

“Please let me hold you…for a little longer.” He couldn’t say anything more. If he did, the three words he had been holding back would come out of him next.

Do they know? Was he being obvious? Were they…finally looking his way?

No…the bloodied daffodils on the dancefloor said otherwise. They hugged him back with the laughable strength they had left. He sat them next to him by the grand piano, with their head resting on his shoulder.

“I don’t regret anything, Barbatos. It had been a great life.”

“What are you saying? You’ll live for a hundred years more.” They both knew it was a lie. The silence consuming them was being buried by the words they were hesitating to speak to each other. To utter it out would change what they had, and they both knew one of them didn’t have the time for it.

“Can you see it? The future I would have?”

“Yes…” he pulled them closer to him. “It’s a bright and happy one with the people who love you.”

“…that’s nice. Are Lucifer and the others in there?”

“Yes.”

“What about Mr. and Mrs. Diavolo?”

“Of course. With a cute nephew for you to spoil.”

He felt them take his hand, lacing it with their own.

“…what about you, Barbatos? Are you there in my bright and happy future?”

The warmth of their hand was disappearing, as well as their smile barely holding back tears. It took all of his being to respond.

“In each and every one…I will always be there with you.”

How could he have been so foolish? Why was he holding back all this time? The words he never dared to say were now spilling out as it tried to grasp the laughter they shared with him in their final breaths.

“I’m so happy…”

.

.

.

.

.

.

The final words they have spoken will always be there with him, scattering in his heart, like the gentle daffodils beating on their own.

“…in my next life, I wish it would be with you.”